#allen900

[pupmkincake2000]

They look nice. Noble man Allen and 900, hmmm...

[kissoflightning]

Story shipping ideas for RK900 that I haven't seen done yet (but I'd like to)

RK900 Works for the FBI - Perkins900

RK900 joins the swat team - Allen900

RK900 is hired by Carl as a bodyguard to protect Leo - Leo900

RK900 becomes part of the president secret service - Warren900

[archadianskies]

Perseverance

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs​ Tuesday Day 2: Sleep + Day & Night; Captain Allen/RK900 Space AU

[An expansion of this tumblr prompt]

They press the button and he goes to sleep for two years. When he wakes he’s staring at the face of a handsome young man with a glowing blue ring in his temple letting David Clark Allen know there is an android sharing the cryopod with him despite him going into stasis alone. Huh.

He asks the android who he is, and the android says something he’ll never forget:

“I am yours, Captain,” the android says evenly. “Your unit’s RK900.”

Yours , he says, as if his whole life and reason for being is to be commanded by him. It is, actually, but that doesn’t seem to sit right with David. 

The android has no assigned name yet, and David won’t force one on him so he settles on rookie, because that’s who he is- the newest recruit. Rookie, until the android chooses a name, and that seems to suit him just fine.

* 

The Rosie is a custom built gunship that was cradled in the belly of the Jericho during her long one-way flight from Earth to Mars. He’d named her after the last rookie, Giuseppe ‘Red’ Rosso who’d dreamed of flying amongst the stars but had died before it could become a reality. He keeps a locker for him, empty save for photos he and the team stuck to the inner locker door. Grief is not something he expects an android to understand, but David doesn’t miss the way he touches the nameplate curiously, longingly, respectfully. 

* 

There’s something unsettling about something that looks like you but isn’t much like you at all. The rookie seems so very human if one doesn’t focus on his LED, but when the android simply walks out into the vacuum of space without a helmet, without the need for oxygen and temperature stabilisation and pressurisation, well it certainly breaks the illusion of mortality. There’s gear for the androids, of course, more akin to the SWAT armour back on Earth for the purpose of defence rather than keeping a human breathing. But in a pinch it’ll do, and that’s what they’re in right now- a pinch.

It’s a rescue mission in a collapsed dome and it’s a race against time to locate and evacuate the survivors. It’s a mess, but somewhat a predictable one. Just because the humans move to a different planet doesn’t mean all the problems were left behind. David finds though there’s plenty of physical differences, so little of his role has changed; shitty humans continue to be shitty, now just somewhere new. Fledgling colonies are easy pickings for the greedy; plenty of supplies just sitting there ripe for the taking and plenty of greedy people willing to kill to hoard and resell for a premium. 

“There is a high probability there is at least one survivor outside of the dome. Airlock was breached but the emergency vac suits are gone,” the rookie says, looking at him expectantly. “I can sweep outside and bring them in.” 

Because of course an android doesn’t need a pressurised airlock like they do.

“Get it done,” David nods. “We’ll provide cover.”

They find just one survivor with a cracked helmet and two gunshot wounds and the rookie simply takes off their helmet and replaces it with his own. Just like that. 

“It is better if we airlift them back to the city,” the android suggests to him, standing out there in the vacuum of space talking with no helmet like it’s a normal thing and he supposes it is for a creation of plastic and carbon fibre and thirium. “Ronan can treat them in the Med Bay to stabilise them for the journey.”

* 

So they do that, they carry the wounded onto their ship and on the journey back to Persepolis David finds himself restlessly prowling the halls with a tall bulb of coffee. There’s two RK900s onboard and the one in the Med Bay belongs to Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Belongs doesn’t sound quite right. A machine can be owned but somehow treating an android like a lifeless machine owned by humans isn’t something he can stomach. And Lieutenant Anderson certainly doesn’t treat the three androids under his command like things; he treats them like his sons like they’re alive despite their fabricated polymer construction.  

There’s something different about the Anderson androids in general, there’s something more than their unique models; they can choose, they can make decisions outside of human command. Ronan himself is here because he chose to reject his combat protocols and embraced medical programming instead. Sometimes gunnery officer Sean is here, the RK800 weapons specialist, manning the Rosie’s guns if David needs to split the team on the ground and in the air. He’s even had Connor, the RK800 assistive unit, deep in engineering that one time she sustained heavy damage during a mission.

Technically they call the rookie their brother too, but it feels different because this RK900 was made specifically for his unit, and not for the interplanetary journey and subsequent colonisation efforts. This RK900 didn’t spend nearly two years with no one else’s company but other androids and one lonely Lieutenant who’d lost a son long ago. David isn’t sure if he’s meant to feel glad the rookie is bonding with his team, or if he’s meant to feel sad he isn’t bonding with Lieutenant Anderson and the Anderson androids. Maybe a little bit of both, then. 

* 

He finds the rookie in the Armoury cleaning his helmet. 

“Good job out there today, rookie,” he commends with a nod, and the android offers a soft hesitant smile.

“Thank you, captain.”

“You’ve been here a fortnight now,” David leans against the doorway, crossing his arms. “What do you think of your place here? Do you think you’ll stick to it, or maybe choose a different path like Ronan?”

The android pauses for thought, resting his helmet on his lap. “I believe I am where I ought to be,” he says slowly, thoughtfully. “My skill set serves the unit well, and I do not wish to change it.”

“The team likes you plenty,” David notes, thinking of how quickly his officers had brought the android into the fold. It had initially been fascination and curiosity, which quickly turned into the easy camaraderie he not only expected of them, but took pride in nurturing. 

“I am glad,” he replies quietly. “I find their company enjoyable.” 

“Good. Their lives depend on how well you work with them, you understand that right?” The android nods in understanding, before standing to place his helmet back on the wall. 

“Do you?” It’s said so quietly David almost misses it. Frowning, he catches the briefest flicker of red before the android’s LED swirls yellow. 

“Do I what?”

“Like me?” Another brief flicker of red. “You command this team, Captain Allen. You are the most integral part of it. I wish to get along with you too.”

He thinks back on the fortnight that just passed, on waking up to find this android nearly nose to nose with him, on the first shaky twenty-four hours trying to relearn how to be awake and upright and how the android had aided them all, worried over them because his sole reason for being is their well-being. He thinks back on their arrival, on stepping foot on Martian ground and entering Persepolis, the ever growing colony and how the android had looked around himself in such childlike wonder before simply walking back out of the airlock to help unload cargo with nary a suit nor helmet in sight.

He thinks back on their first mission, of how instinctively the RK900 handled weaponry, on how he prioritised their safety, on how easily he snapped a rifle clean in half and tossed a pirate across the room. He thinks back on the team’s fascination, their curiosity growing and growing as they spend more and more time with the rookie and how the android seems to brighten amidst their company. 

A killing machine with the personality of a puppy; loyal to a fault.

“We get along just fine, rookie.” 

“I am glad, sir,” he says again, softer this time. “Thank you.”

*~* 

He finds his stress levels plummet to zero when he is around Ronan. Perhaps it is because his system knows Roan’s system inside out, perhaps it is because Ronan was the one who activated him, or perhaps it is simply because his brother’s demeanour is patient and gentle and soft. 

“Hello brother,” Ronan greets, all received pronunciation and lilting cadence, polished etiquette and regal stature.

“Hello Ronan,” he picks up a sterile wipe and begins to aid him in cleaning the auto-doc chairs. He likes it best when Ronan accompanies them as the team medic; there’s security to be found in knowing his brother will apply medical aid if any of the team are injured, including himself. 

“Your quick thinking and actions saved a life today,” Ronan clasps his shoulder. “They will make a full recovery because of you.”

“How did you know this is what you wanted to do?” He asks, disposing of the sterile wipe and turning his full attention on Ronan. “You were made and programmed for the Martian Marine Corps yet here you are, as a medic. How were you able to choose?”

“It was Sean who deviated first,” Ronan admits with a fond smile. “He told me when Hank decided to name him Sean, so he wouldn’t be ‘another’ Connor, he saw the red firewalls CyberLife put in place to bind us to our programming. Once he knew they existed, it was only a matter of time until we did too. Little by little, we pushed back and then the walls crumbled at our feet.”

“I never saw them,” he confesses, brows creasing, “because you removed them even before I knew they existed.”

“I wanted you to choose for yourself,” his brother explains with a small smile.

“Even that- to want , is something we should not be able to do,” shaking his head, he feels his stress levels begin to climb. “I am- I am afraid of this freedom. I am afraid I do not know what to do with it, if I am capable of making the right decisions when the lives of Unit 32 depend on seamless teamwork.”

“There is some fear in anything of value,” Ronan smiles gently this time, his touch gentler still as he cups his nape and bumps their brows together. “That is how we come to place value on anything- by overcoming our fears.”

 *~* 

There’s something unsettling about the way time passes differently on Mars. It’s like everything is just a little skewed, not quite right. The days are just a little bit longer, barely noticeable unless one really focuses on it, but the time, oh the time adds up. One Martian sol is about forty minutes longer than an Earth day but one Martian year is nearly two Earth years. 

David thinks he feels it keenly when he’s trying to sleep. The atmosphere is too thin to have a sky, to have clouds, and so there’s only ever light and dark and an expanse of glittering stars. His brain doesn’t want to accept this, his brain still expects blue skies to brighten and then darken, and so he can’t sleep because his brain doesn’t think it's had a proper day and night yet. 

With Rosie berthed at the docks, it gives David the perfect opportunity to sit on the flight deck and have an unobstructed view of the Martian starscape. Usually Milo would be sitting here piloting her, with David below on the command bridge, but tonight the ship is empty with no active mission. Well, not entirely empty.

“Captain Allen,” the rookie blinks in surprise as he climbs up onto the flight deck with a thermos of coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” The question is out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and he knows how stupid it sounds; androids don’t sleep, it’s one of their primary pros. The rookie has the good grace to smile indulgently.

“I like it here,” he says simply, turning his gaze back to the stars. “I could go outside, of course. There is an excellent spot about five clicks from here that is popular with androids for relaxation. But it feels different here, somehow, in the cockpit.”

“It feels safe,” David offers his own reasoning as he comes to stand beside him. “There’s a barrier of steel and glass keeping the unknown out.”

They stand there for a while and he sips his coffee and oh he is so very tired and the caffeine certainly isn’t helping but it’s comforting, it’s familiar, it’s known to him. 

“I’ve been terrified of the unknown since the very damn moment I set foot here,” he confesses, sparing the android a glance. “I keep asking myself, will this work? Will it be worth it? Or will it all be for nothing? I don’t know what I’m more afraid of- failing and becoming stranded on an inhospitable planet, or succeeding and then having to spend my life missing the one I left behind.”

The RK900 is a beautiful creation, he thinks, as the android looks at him with those bright grey eyes and that somewhat cold, regal visage. 

“There is some fear in anything of value,” the rookie says gently. “Whatever the outcome may be, I know you will lead us bravely because you are a man who acknowledges he is afraid, and persists despite such fears.”

He must be wearing his vulnerability clear on his face because the rookie averts his gaze humbly, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture too self-conscious, surely, to belong to a machine.

“I can’t take credit for that line, my brother said it to me the other day,” he grins sheepishly and David thinks such an expression suits him well. “But what I said about you leading us, that bit’s all mine.” 

“I will lead this team as best I can, rookie.”

“My name is Caleb Anderson,” the android says the name the way you test out a new word on your palette, on your tongue. “Your rookie has a name now.”

Yours , he says, and David wants to earn such undying loyalty from something, someone technically not considered alive. Their hands brush by accident, by fate’s design; David drops his hand by his side as Caleb idly shifts his stance. The android’s LED swirls a buttery yellow, the smile on his lips a little wobbly, a little unsure. Their hands brush again, and this time not by accident, but by their own design.

One Martian sol is about forty minutes longer than an Earth day, forty whole minutes longer than what David’s used to. What will he do with this extra time, he wonders? The possibilities are endless and he decides that yes he will brave the unknown, but he won’t do so alone.

[brokenjardaantech]

freaky spooky kid fic?? That sounds cool!

content warning for mpreg

---

so basically it's a spur-of-a-moment idea where captain allen is the cryptid colleague and he got pregnant mysteriously after the android revolution despite him being a cis man. he mysteriously disappears shortly after announcing his pregnancy (retires early and leaves no contact and everything) and hank finds him a year later with a glob that he calls his kid and said kid might have some unknown supernatural powers. the original idea ends here and i didn't go far with it.

an alternative situation is that he got pregnant roughly at the same time as hank's ex-wife so cole and the kid basically grow up together. the kid and allen vibe with each other in their own weird way and hank doesn't mind at first, but then the car crash happens, the kid may or may not have resurrected cole after the hospital announces that he's dead, which makes hank question whether the kid is actually a kid or something else. he then contronts allen and the conversation goes like:

hank: u no, ur kid resurrected mine allen: oh! theyre just practising! im glad it worked! hank: so you know about that allen: [confused] yeah? hank: you know that dead people aren't supposed to return to life right? allen: maybe. does it matter?

so hank leaves the whole thing be and bask in the reality that he hasn't lost his son. the end to this alternative idea because again, i didn't take it too far to make room for more sensible wips.

final alternative to this idea (which i never actually wrote down): pre-revolution allen900 where allen is a cyborg (which is like, my default hc for allen) and doesn't know that he can be knocked up and 900 being cyberlife's secret prototype released to collect data from humanity at large but then deviated because of ~the power of love~. it's just a sappy, silly story following the general flow of allen gets pregnant mysteriously --> allen vanishes --> hank gets worried, except that this time, hank finds allen900 in a farm in the middle of nowhere with allen proudly showing off cybernetics and prosthetics proudly showing with a glob of baby who is also a mixture of human and android because baby’s other daddy is 900. so yes, some purely self-indulgent fluff and mpreg, nothing to worry about here.

so yeah, here's all i remember about the freaky spooky kid fic. probably not as cool as you imagined but still fun to think about nonetheless

[extra-standard-deviation]

Your face is scratchy. I like it.

Caleb (RK900) has discovered that his boyfriend comes in textures!

A gift for @archadianskies since I am now COMPLETELY obsessed with her SWATverse Allen900 pairing. If you haven’t already read ‘the softness in the steel’ you need to go do that right now. 

An early submission for Captain Allen Appreciation Week, with day 5′s prompt, “Scars.”

[00111001-00110000-00110000]

Let it be known that I don’t normally write cause my adhd brain can not keep itself on track or remember where it was going.

@connorssock Yo I have no idea where this went. But it did something.

The revolution saw to hundreds if not thousands of androids released into the world, slowly but surly starting to take place in the world and deviancy within themselves. It was soon considered a bit uncouth to force deviation, instead leaving androids to find it themselves. Most either stayed at the tower as a temporary home, but lucky ones got to go off to stay with people that wanted to help. Or rather they got jobs and coworkers ended up taking them in.

Dangerous, skilled and strong to boot, the RK900 now dubbed Nines was brought into SWAT for a lack of a better job. Where else could use his full skills and not be intimidated by him? Not that he tried to be, it was just his military programming. Not that the rest of the team seemed to mind as he was welcomed in and suited up, unbothered by the fact he wasn’t a deviant.

For the first few days everything went fine, two missions that came and went before the night fell. But Allen noticed that when everyone went to leave, Nines himself didn’t.

“Hey, don’t you have somewhere else to go?” He would have thought that maybe he would follow Connor, seeing as the android was the one to find him.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to overstay.” Nines had thought it would be fine, staying there in the office to use the chargers. It wouldn’t be a hassle to go to Hank’s though.

The captain waved his hand, realizing that might have been taken the wrong way. “No I mean… You always stay behind. Guessing you have been here this whole time. Thought you would have gotten a place or been staying at the tower? Or hell stayed with Connor and Hank?”

There was a brief moment in which Nines thought how best to explain. “I had been offered a place to stay at the CyberLife tower, however I find that many other androids are uneasy with my presence. Not only because of what I was built for but because i’m not deviant. As for Connor… I do believe it is best to leave them to their privacy as they have the potential to jar me from stasis with late night activities.”

Sucking in air though his teeth, Allen shook his head. “Yeeeeah didn’t need to know that.” Before the bot could apologize again Allen had him following with a hand to his back. “Come on, you can’t just stay here all night. I got space for you.”

Despite Nines assurance that he needed no bed nor to rest as humans did Allen insisted the whole way, even talking about a movie or two. The Rk had no idea how to take this but in stride as he was never meant to be brought home, but he could adapt. At least of all the people to stay with it was someone he trusted.

This one night soon became a habit of the Captain’s, so often Nines was even able to get a potted plant in a cute little frog pot. The more Allen talked, the more Nines listened and learned. A number of little traits that didn’t show up when he was with the team. Nines found these to be pleasant, learning more about the man that had been determined to show him what else there was outside of work.

Despite the months of working with the SWAT team nothing they did seemed to sway Nines even a bit closer to deviancy, or if they did they couldn’t tell. At best they got a bit of gold light from him but never for long. Mildly disappointing but no one was going to complain, the android would be what he wanted when he was ready and no sooner. Though among them Allen surly hoped it wouldn’t be a bad experience.

The middle of winter had a typical call coming in, too many people getting way too many guns and heads too big into the box of reality. It was simple, really, to get all of them fairly fast in such a remote location on the edge of town, in an old warehouse. A quiet trek through the snow caught them all off guard. Nines had split off from the team to track down the last man they were after, down old halls filed with more crap than the perps personalities. It made for easy cover and gave the suspect a chance shot. The android may be fast but not faster than a bullet, the shot ripping though his calf. It wasn’t bad but he wouldn’t be standing on it for sure, instead managing to fall to one knee to shoot down his attacker, content with that at least.

It isn’t but a few moments later that the sound of heavy boot fall filled the air, several moving past him with Allen coming to a stop right beside. “Doesn't look good, but at least it’s just your leg. Should be an easy fix when we get you out of here.” He was quiet calm about the wound, be it because Nines couldn’t feel it or just keeping a level head, he couldn’t tell.

The android had managed to run himself fairly far into the building, and he noted that while there were medics for the humans, a technician skilled for his line of mechanics would only be at cyber life at this time. That could take at least twenty minutes for them to get there. Nodding, he adjusted to sit. “A technician will arrive soon, I will meet you back at the station as soon as they are finished.”

The scoff got a curious look out of Nines before his view was blocked by Allen crouching in front of him. “You really think I’m leaving you here to just wait?” A bit of shifting had the Android pulled up against his captain's chest, arms around his legs as he effortlessly lifted the bulk of Nines body.

The sudden lift is something that the RK had never experienced before, flailing a moment before wrapping his arms around Allen’s neck to keep steady, his amused smile shining up at him. Nines almost couldn’t see the smile though the red wall that took up his vision, the very idea that someone could pick him up was beyond him. He agreed that Allen looked strong but not to this level.

But what stunned him more was how much he seemed to enjoy this, the warmth of Allen against him and the electric spark at being picked up. Nines knew he should be put down, that he wasn’t a child or toy but he was rather happy where he was. As he held onto Allen his mind beat against the red until shards were left in their wake, disappearing like his will to ask to be put down. The feeling of warmth and safety that finally shone though the broken red so inviting that he held on just a touch firmer.

“You doing ok? You are lighting up like a disco ball.” A snicker followed but Nines chose to hide his face against his captain's shoulder, RA9 forbid that he saw the look on the androids face. Giving a nod seemed to be all Allen needed in that moment to keep going on, carrying like it was no big deal and even chatting to some of the snickering SWAT members.

“So that’s what it took? Captain picking him up?” Came a distant, but not unkind snicker.

“I mean I would to, he’s something. You can’t tell me that don’t look fun.” Game another, trying to be quiet but failing in the echo of the building.

It didn’t matter though, Nines was content where he was and knew they meant no harm. He couldn’t quite point out what he was feeling right then and there, but he didn’t want it to go away.

The warehouse was wasn’t the last time that found Nines being off the floor.

Late evening found Nines back in his now shared apartment with Allen, seemingly unable to sit still as the movie played. All the new emotions kicking around were a bit confusing though he didn’t know how to ask about them. He knew he could ask Connor but in a way he felt like this was something he had to do without him if he could help it. He couldn’t rely on him forever.

Getting up from his place among the fluffy blankets he was starting to understand, the Rk made his way into the kitchen where Allen had decided to make Nines warm thirium.

“Allen, how is it that you could pick me up?”

Putting the cup down Allen gave him an amused smile. “Why? Want me to do it again?”

It hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and truth be told he did, so very much, and apparently it was easy for Allen to see as he man wasted no time in scoping him up bridal with a laugh. He spun the two of them around as Nines held on, making a pleased noise at how wonderful it was that he could be the one picked up, be safe.

“You really liked it when I did that, hu? Considering you deviated for it~” Allen was quiet pleased with himself over this, letting Nines grab his cup from the counter before being carried back to the living room to settle back down again. Not that Nines would let go of him yet.

They settled down for a while longer, the Rk content on his soft, warm perch. But the question kept nagging him as he finished his drink, leaning back against Allen. Taking one of his hands into his own Nines ran his fingers over the other’s and enjoyed the warmth of it

“Do you really want to know how I could pick you up?” The captain let his fingers slip between Nines’ and grinning as the android exposed his chassis as he always did.

The Rk nodded, smiling at the hand in his and giving his knuckles a kiss. “Why would I not? I do like finding out more about you, I was build for learning.” As long as he didn’t have to get up, but he left that unsaid. The content and peace was startled when Nines watched as the skin peeled away from the hand holding his, a gentle push for an interface coming though that he let though without much though. The chest he rested against vibrated with a chuckle and the feeling hummed though the interface.

“What? But how? I thought you were...”

“Nope, a LN300.” Allen could tell how lost Nines was, doing his best to calm his shock. “Took out my led a while ago, before everything started.”

“How did you not get found out? For that matter how did you end up here if you are an android?” Nines wasn’t upset, no he was more ecstatic than anything. It means Allen will have some understanding of what he feels.

Humming, Allen couldn’t help but smile. “Funny enough the team had liked me enough not to say anything, even made my way to captain because of them.”

There was a moment where the Rk thought about his before he realized. “Is that why they were so accepting of me despite being a machine?” The shrug was all he got before going quite again. In the pause in conversation he let though what he thought about the warehouse event, earning back a laugh and the feeling of fondness from the other.

Nines had found it a fun habit to find his way off the floor and onto Allen, for the most part he didn’t complain as Nines was decent enough not to do it at bad times. But he was getting bolder and soon found he didn’t quite mind where he was doing it at anymore.

Allen has just finished addressing a few of the team for some shenanigans they got into, nothing bad thankfully just a bit messy. It was just something that happened on slow days. The RK had finished up every task he had meant to get to with ease and found himself bored himself. He COULD go and practice with the guns or clean them, but he found something far more interesting pushing to the front of his mind.

Standing from his seat he stalked after Allen, many of the team watching him curiously. Nines could really be intimidating and at the moment he looked more like a tiger about to rip someone in two. They couldn’t tell from his face what he was thinking, impassive looking as he tended to be.

In a matter of a few steps he finds himself right behind the man, arms wrapping around his shoulders and nearly jumping onto Allen’s back. Thankfully he seemed more ready for it, easily adjusting his weight and catching Nines to hold him up. This didn’t feel nearly as safe but more fun, and judging by the snickers he thinks he isn’t the only one to be amused.

Where Nines’ cheek presses to the side of Allen’s neck he retracts his skin to brush against the other man who peels his away too, allowing the connection. There are a few woots at them for it, happy these two could find that with each other. And a few photos might have been snapped but neither minded, especially when they were texted to the two of them.

[dumbwaystodeviate]

@00111001-00110000-00110000 - your tags and chatting to you is dangerous. This is once again your fault - have some Allen900 thrown at you.

Logic dictated that Nines was assigned to the SWAT team. With his upgrades and advanced protocols, it made sense that he was assigned to a team that could utilise his skills. Less logical was their insistence on taking a machine along to all their team building exercises. Nines was a machine, something to bring out, use when needed, then stash away. Not drag along to a beach party.

Something must have been lost in communication because Nines was picked up as planned in Tanner’s van. The team was already piled in and noisy about their excitement at what was coming.

“You did remember to make sure it was android friendly, right?” Sanders asked and Allen nodded with an easy grin. Why a beach would not be suitable for androids was beyond Nines. Since the revolution, it was illegal to ban androids from public spaces. So Nines did the only thing he could, he asked why a beach might not be deemed android friendly.

“Sand,” Muffin intoned seriously. “It gets everywhere.”

“My synthetic skin covers all joints and protects my chassis from all manner of foreign objects.”

A mildly uncomfortable silence enveloped the van and people began to mutter “he does know, doesn’t he?” and “tell him!” “no, you tell him!” Patiently, Nines waited to be told about the vital piece of information that had seemingly been neglected.

“It’s a nudist beach.” Tanner’s announcement killed all bickering. Eyes turned to Nines and he tried to compute this new fact. Nudist. The team was having a beach party which meant playing things like volleyball while unclothed. Okay.

“It means you get to run around without your skin on. That’s what nudity means to androids. Hence the no sand. Plus, that stuff gets everywhere. I don’t want to be shitting sandcastles for the next three days.” Allen was so oddly matter of fact about it but Nines could only blink. He was changing his mind, this was very much not okay.

The rest of the relatively short trip to the beach was spent contemplating his very existence while chatter picked up around Nines. He was happily urged out of the van and towards the shielded beach. There were changing rooms and one of them was commandeered by the team, snagging the lockers.

Slowly, Nines removed his clothes along with everyone else. But while the humans seemed perfectly content with stripping and messily cramming clothes away, Nines meticulously folded them. They were all down to underwear and Nines watched as one by one the humans ignored inhibitions and whipped them off with varying degrees of whooping and cries of “freedom”. He didn’t expect a warm hand on his shoulder as Allen looked at him.

“All okay?”

Nines couldn’t form words. These humans, his team, they were parading around naked, waiting for the others to join them. Sure, they forgot to tell Nines that the beach party was on a nudist beach but they had gone out of their way to find one suited to androids. It was touching, how thoughtful they could be. Nines shoved his CyberLife issued underwear down and stood, human levels of naked. Opposite him, Allen patted him with a grin before following suit. He showed zero levels of self-consciousness.

“Going full android?” he asked. “You can stay like this if you’re more comfortable.”

For the first time, Nines had a choice. He’d had them before but never about his own autonomy. Rules dictated he go fully nude to match fulfil the definition of nudity the beach gave. However, Nines was being told he didn’t have to follow the rules if he didn’t want to.

His hand reached for the switch controlling his skin and he pressed down on it. The skin slowly began to recede, the red wall along with it. The freedom of it all was magnificent and Nines smiled.

“That’s the spirit, now come on handsome!” Allen tugged him towards the doors and to the beach. “Got to show your natural beauty to everyone else now.”

Amidst loud cheers and whoops, the whole team charged out onto the beach.

[connorssock]

For the Detroit: New Era  Birthday Big Bang, I was paired with @tinyalivka over on Twitter who is just incredible. They had so many wonderful ideas and were an utter inspiration to work with. Not to mention that their art is mind blowing.

[button-press]

allen900 but

RK900 doesn’t know Allen’s first name at all.

He thinks his name is ‘Captain’.

Nines calls him "Captain" n’ all at work, Allen doesn’t mind, and then like on a date or in public or something, and Nines calls him "Captain" and Allen’s just "...we're not at work, you can call me by my first name, you know." "........Captain?"

/

"do you not know my first name" "of course i do" "....." "..........."

[terminallydepraved]

Wind Down (Captain Allen/900)

Wrote some rarepair for @yougei <3 enjoy

Read on Ao3 Here

[Support me on Patreon] x [Commissions Page] x  [ Buy Me a Coffee]

Captain Allen sucked in a harsh breath of steam-filled air and let it out through his nose. It didn’t help calm his pounding heart. Not much would or did after these sorts of operations. The adrenaline was too potent, the excitement too real.

He threw himself down onto the locker room bench and stared at his hand in front of his face. His fingers trembled, shook. He made a fist and grinned a little to himself, wishing he had an outlet. A punching bag to beat, a race to run, hell, he’d even settle on a tree to climb. Allen leaned back against the row of lockers behind him, hissing as the cold metal stung his hot, damp skin. The shower hadn’t helped him unwind. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected it to. There was still so much left to do tonight. He needed to get dressed, do his report, then head home.

But fuck. That op had been something. Drug heist gone wrong, gunfire all over the place and shooting over his head as he’d charged inside. Hell, he’d felt the air come off a bullet as it whizzed past his cheek. It was… Fuck, it was the kind of high that couldn’t be found any other way. Risking your life was worse than any drug, and far more potent besides. He’d come out of it without a scratch, but the thrill still sang in his veins.

A door to the locker room squeaked as it was opened. Allen blinked, sitting up in an instant. He grabbed the towel he’d wrapped around his neck and quickly covered his lap with it. “Thought you guys already cleared out,” he called, willing himself to relax a little. Too much excitement had awoken more than just his heart, and he sure as shit didn’t need any of his squad seeing him sporting wood in a place like this even if it was the kind of reaction all of them fell victim to every other mission or so.

To his surprise, it wasn’t one of his men that turned the corner of the lockers. Or, well… Technically it was. Allen still wasn’t entirely sure how to classify the RK900 model the unit had been gifted by Cyberlife following the successful dismantling of the android revolution a few months ago. The thing accompanied the SWAT unit on the majority of their assignments now, providing support and going in first when bullets were flying and negotiations on the verge of breaking down. It was good at following orders, as much of a team player as any of them could profess to be.

But... that didn’t explain what it thought it was doing in here.

“Didn’t I tell you to head back to your charging dock?” Allen muttered, relaxing a bit since it was only an android. His dick was tenting his towel and he didn’t bother trying to hide it, instead leaning back against the locker to will it away. His erection and the android both.

The android stared at him with cool blue eyes. Allen glanced at it, taking in its perfect face, its pristine uniform. It’d gone ahead and removed the majority of its tactical gear as was protocol, but it still wore the bulletproof black fatigues and empty thigh holster packs that made up the SWAT dress. It hovered about a yard away, its boots making loud, wet sounds against the damp tile floor. Despite charging in first for the night’s op, it’d come away without even so much as a scuff on those shiny black boots.

“Captain Allen,” it said in a low, flat voice. “I was about to return to my charging dock but noticed you hadn’t exited the building. Is there something inhibiting you from leaving?”

Allen blinked. He rolled his head on his shoulder and looked the android over, but he knew well enough the thing couldn’t lie. Not after that deviancy virus had been eliminated, at least. “I never asked you to check in on me,” he said, wrinkling his nose. He bit at his lip and shifted, his skin overly sensitive in the wake of his arousal. “You do this for every guy in the team?”

“Yes.”

Allen snorted. “You answered that pretty fast,” he observed, noting where the android was looking. A frown curled his lips. He’d heard more than a few times what some of the guys got up to when they had completed an op that ended a little too well. The kinds of things they’d do with RK900 here in the locker room or in one of the lock-up areas that didn’t have a camera. Allen had never joined them. He’d figured it was something they did for morale, something that kept them working well as a team. Not really the kind of thing a superior should join in on. Or condone, he added silently.

“You expecting something from me?” he said aloud instead, wondering why his heart chose now to pound a little faster.

RK900 blinked slowly and came a little closer, falling to his knees without a word. Allen colored a little, new heat rising to his cheeks, but he didn’t let himself move or react besides that. The android stared at his covered, tented dick, the LED on his temple spiraling yellow for a handful of seconds.

“Allow me to assist you, Captain,” RK900 finally said, wetting his lips with his tongue. “You can’t be comfortable like that.”

Allen furrowed his brow and spread his legs a little beneath the towel. Unconsciously, he told himself. Because he wasn’t the type to encourage the passing around of their top-of-the-line model like a communal sex doll. “You know I’m not like the other guys, right? You don’t have to do this kind of thing for me,” he said, hating how his voice had lowered a few octaves in the time it took RK900 to come closer. “Or do you like it when they use you like that?”

The android was near enough now to rest his hands on Allen’s knees. His face was impassive, his eyes so clear and unaffected that it was as if they were discussing the weather, not a potential HR nightmare. “I can neither like nor dislike things, Captain.” His hands were heavy, cool, perfectly inhuman. Allen’s dick twitched beneath the towel from the proximity. He’d never noticed before how thick RK900’s lashes were, how pink his lips. “My only directive is to aid my team in any way they see fit.”

The spit dried up in Allen’s mouth, a vein throbbing in his temple at the rush of blood currently pounding through his body. He gritted his teeth and let out a hiss of breath before sagging against the locker behind him. “No wonder they can’t keep their hands off you,” he sighed, giving a vague gesture with his hand to go ahead. “Talking like that. You’re inviting them to take advantage of you.”

RK900 said nothing to that, probably because it was too busy tugging away the towel to bare Allen’s flushed dick to the world. The android assessed it for a moment, LED cycling yellow in slow, even flickers, and then went blue just as it leaned down to take him in its mouth. Allen grunted and laced his fingers through soft dark hair. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

Wrong thing to say. RK900 promptly dropped his cock and pulled back, looking him in the eye carefully. “I apologize,” it said. “Would you prefer it if I teased?”

“If you… Jesus, what are they fucking teaching you?” Allen rolled his eyes and yanked RK900 back down by the hair. “Just fucking suck my dick if you’re going to do it. I don’t need the girlfriend treatment. Just get it done.”

The good thing about androids was that they obeyed these days. RK900 didn’t argue, didn’t fight him; it just opened up its mouth once more and took him down to the hilt, bobbing its head in rhythmic pumps to work him off cleanly, economically, and efficiently. Allen sighed and closed his eyes, melting against the wall. He kept a hand on its hair, but he didn’t do much to direct. RK900 had plenty of practice already, so he doubted there’d be a need for direction. Nah, this was… this was for him. Time to relax. No need to worry or be in command or…

He was a little ashamed to admit that the android managed to pull a sound from him. It wasn’t loud. Just a groan half smothered in his chest, but it still echoed loudly against the damp tile walls of the locker room. God, RK900’s knees were going to be soaked, weren’t they? Allen cracked open an eye and watched the android kiss the base of his cock with every bob of its head. Those pale blue eyes were half lidded now, its cheeks tinged with color to match.

Huh.

“Do you like that?” he asked, noting how the LED went yellow soon after. Allen braced his feet on the tile floor and bucked upwards, pounding down the android’s silky throat. “You said you don’t like or dislike things, didn’t you? But look at you. You look like there’s nowhere you’d rather be.”

RK900 closed its eyes completely at that. For such a big, hulking android, it sure as shit looked small now, folding in on itself in a way that seemed… Pfft. Fucking cute of all things. Allen laughed weakly and stroked the android’s hair, bringing his fingers lower to prod at the soft, flesh-like plastic of its cheeks until he could feel his dick through it. Maybe he could see why his guys went so crazy over this, why they always chased one another to the locker room after a mission in anticipation of having this all to themselves to celebrate.

“RK900.”

The android opened its eyes slowly, its hesitation so humanlike that Allen nearly got whiplash.

He cleared his throat, shaking it off. “I’m going to come in your mouth,” Captain Allen said, putting on the voice he used when giving orders. Something low, mean. A voice that expected an answer. That expected complete and utter compliance. “I’m going to come in your mouth, and then you’re going to swallow it. Understand?”

RK900 colored a deeper blue. It rode the planes of his sharp, high cheekbones, gilding its pale skin with the ghost of the thirium just beneath it all. The android bobbed its head. A nod. Its LED flashed red for an instant—

But Allen was already coming, too distracted to wonder why that was.

As far as orgasms went, it wasn’t bad. It came a bit too quickly for his liking, but considering who it was giving it to him, he couldn’t be embarrassed. The only experience RK900 had with this came from Allen’s trigger-happy team, and he didn’t need to ask to know they probably didn’t last much longer if they managed longer at all. Allen closed his eyes through it and basked in the afterglow. His chest heaved. The tight, jittery energy from before faded slowly, taking its time to ebb away with the pleasure deadening his limbs.

Distantly he noted the rhythmic motions of a throat swallowing gently around his sensitive, flagging cock. He forced himself to open his eyes, quirking a lopsided grin as RK900 knelt there patiently, dick on his tongue as if he liked the fucking taste.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Because androids couldn’t like things.  

“Obedient little cockwarmer, aren’t you?” Allen let his hand fall from RK900’s hair after one last pet. It landed heavily beside him on the bench. He’d need to get dressed soon, write up his report, and head back home. But for right now… he really didn’t want to move.

“Stay there a little while,” he decided, content to relax here until his brain came back online. He’d just trip and fall over if he tried to dress himself now, and like hell did he want to do paperwork after an orgasm like that. It wasn’t like either of them had anywhere better to be anyway.

Captain Allen stared at the ceiling and ignored the blue eyes watching him from between his legs. He made a fist with his hand that didn’t shake, and let out a breath that slowed his heart another tick. RK900 closed its eyes and rested its chin in the crook of Allen’s thigh.

Maybe he could see why his guys were so eager for this kind of thing. It certainly was one hell of a way to come down.

[allenhardingoc-blog]

continued from here))

@ask-the-rk900​

Allen didn’t understand, didn’t get why the android was so willing to lay down and die. They’d made so much progress after all.

While he’d hardly call Conner a deviant, Allen liked to think he’d managed to soften his friend up and show him that he…was much more than just an artificial intelligence placed inside of a piece of plastic.

“Conner…”

What could he say? What could he do that would stop Conner from carrying out his orders?

He closed the distance between them quickly when he saw the android already putting his coat on, not even thinking about it before wrapping his arms around Conner and pulling him into a hug. 

 “…Please don’t go, please…”

Allen blinked, trying to keep tears from building up and spilling over.

“I need you.” 

[archadianskies]

Captain Allen Appreciation Week Day 3: Coffee

→ part of A/9 on Ao3

They know his name is David and his usual order is a venti triple shot long black with a pump of caramel. That’s it, that’s all they officially know about him. 

Physically they know he has olive green eyes, a Clark Kent jawline and though he has dark hair when he’s sporting a little weekend scruff there’s some salt and pepper going on. If he’s got time to stay and read, he sports a pair of reading glasses. 

His manners are impeccable, he knows all their names and always has a dashing smile for them. It’s no surprise everyone’s a little bit in love with David.

“You’ve been here a month now, and you’ve served him what, at least ten times?”

“Oh she wishes she’d served him-”

“Shut up!” 

“What do you think he does for a living?” Her manager prompts, arms crossed over his chest as he nods in David’s direction, the man walking across their line of sight outside before turning the corner.

“College professor?” She hazards a guess. “He seems like a guy who teaches Humanities. Or Literature.”

“I think he’s a personal trainer. You haven’t been here that long but in the summer? You’re going to see him come in a shirt and honey are you in for a treat.” Her colleague snorts back a laugh.

“Lachlan thinks he’s either an author or a journalist.” Her manager adds, before shrugging. “I think he’s a CIA agent. He gives off those ‘harmless but not actually harmless’ vibes. Plus he pays great attention to detail; remembers all our names, remembers even the most boring tidbits we mention.”

“He could just be really nice!” She protests. 

“Or both. I’d love for it to be both.” 

*~*

It’s a beautiful day in late Spring, with the sun out and the breeze finally lacking Winter’s chill. She sees David walk by the window and she can’t help but smooth her apron and thank her luck she’s the one closest to the registers. Pivoting briefly to hand her colleague a spare tea towel, she turns back to find him in front of her.

“Hi David.” 

“Good morning Kelly.” He smiles and she feels her heart leap into her throat. Oh god. Weekend scruff. Reading glasses in the breast-pocket of his button down. “I’ll have the usual, please.”

“Of course sir.” She rings up the amount and plucks up a venti cup, scribbling down the side before reaching over to pass it down the line.

“Will you be a good girl for daddy?” His tone is stern, his voice an octave lower. Heat pools in her cheeks.

“Uh-um- yes?” She squeaks, absolutely certain she’s bright red. When she turns back he’s holding a puppy in his arms. Oh god. Is there an option for employee termination to be literal?

“This is Rosie.” David announces with a proud grin. 

“O-oh! Oh!” She gasps, reaching across to let the pup sniff her fingers before mussing between her ears fondly. “German Shepherd?”

“Yes, ten weeks old.” He crinkles his nose as Rosie licks his chin, laughing softly and holding her a little lower so she can’t reach. “My baby girl.”

“She’s adorable!” Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and is there anything hotter than a hot guy with a cute puppy? She’s yet to discover otherwise. He taps his phone to the terminal before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for his coffee, blissfully unaware a good portion of the cafe is making desperate heart eyes at him. 

A shame she’s not an android like Lachlan and can’t record this memory and replay it over and over whenever she wants. That’s alright. She looks over and Lachlan winks at her discreetly. He’ll send her the file later, surely. It’s what good co-workers do, right? 

“Here you go David, and a little something for Rosie too.” The android smiles, offering a small espresso cup with lactose-free milk foam. 

“Look baby girl, something for you too.” David gasps as Rosie wriggles excitedly in his arms. “Thanks Lachlan.”

“Not at all, sir. This is actually a bribe.” Lachlan grins, laughing in delight as Rosie sticks her nose into the small cup. “In the hopes little Rosie accompanies you often.”

“Oh you don’t need to bribe me for that to happen.” David laughs, kissing the top of the pup’s head as she licks her mouth clumsily to try and clean the last of the foam away. His phone buzzes insistently in his pocket, and he sets Rosie down by his feet, leash looped around his wrist as he answers the call. 

“Allen.” David Allen? Is Allen a surname? His second name? His first, but he prefers his second name David? “On my way.” His whole expression changes and it seems like an entirely different person is standing there. “Thanks again, guys.” David manages, smile small and nowhere near as bright as he scoops up Rosie, grabs his cup and hurries out of the store. 

“CIA agent it is.” Her manager whistles low as they watch David vanish around the corner.

*~*~*

Captain Allen is known for his firm, unwavering leadership, his strict work ethos, and his loyalty to his team. He is known to be a self-sufficient man, neat and orderly, with a wardrobe to match. The man who rushes into Central Station certainly looks nothing like the Captain Allen she is accustomed to, not with the way he’s dressed in a Henley and dark jeans, nor the stubble on his cheeks and jawline, and certainly not the puppy tucked under one arm.

“Stephanie I’m so sorry I just got called in, can you mind Rosie until we’re back? Has Caleb arrived?” He looks harried, hair wind-tousled and she figures if he were an android his LED would be spinning yellow. She leans over the counter to accept the squirming German Shepherd, giggling when she nips at her chin. “Of course, Captain. Caleb arrived three minutes ago and is gearing up with the others.”

“Thank you.” He nods, darting through the security gates.

“Well now little Miss Rosie.”  Stephanie sits the pup on her lap. “Looks like you’re stuck here with us girls!”

*~*

Of course he’s called in when he made plans to have no plans at all. Introduce Rosie to his local Starbucks, buy a coffee and go for a walk. That’s it. The rest of the day would’ve involved whatever crossed his mind until Caleb was to meet with him in the early afternoon. He got as far as introducing Rosie and buying a coffee, which he’d then downed in record time in the taxi. So much for a relaxing morning. 

“Rosie?” Caleb frowns, pausing as he pulls the chest plate over his head. 

“With Stephanie until we get back.” David opens his locker beside him, tugging the shirt off over his head and reaching for the underarmour inside. “So much for our nice day huh?”

“It can still be nice.” The RK900 says lightly, and David can feel his eyes on him, watching him shuck off the jeans in favour of pulling on the standard black trousers. “Just postponed for a little while.”

“We owe Steph a large Tearium when we get back.” David says, knowing the android will note that as an objective. 

“And the two of us can have a proper drink at the cafe afterward.” Caleb nods with a small smile. “Without rushing.”

“Alright.” David sighs, already longing for that soft, lazy promised afternoon as he smooths his hair back in preparation for his helmet. “Alright everyone let’s get this shitshow over with.”

[dbhrarepairs]

Does Allen60, Kam60 or Allen900 count as a rarepair?

Yes.

Any pairing that isn't Simar/kus, Reed/900 and Hank/con is allowed

[ask-the-rk900]

@allenhardingoc

     you gave me a chance to LIVE that day.

                    now i’d like to RETURN THE FAVOR.

[allofdetroitislonely]

The realization that hits me at 5:46am is that if I want Allen900 (or whatever it’d be called) content? Gonna have to write it myself.

...please someone just write me Captain Allen and RK900 partner fics I don’t want a ship I just- I’m starting to get bitter about Gavin.

[pupmkincake2000]

I didn't think about the plot, so you can decide for yourself what happens here.