#and connors poor family is so desperate for his memory to be something GOOD

[fizzseed]

this is insane actually

[justasuicidecase]

Guardian Demon

Fire engulfed anything it could reach with its blazing grasp. They burned everything Connor loved in front of his eyes, his childhood home, the markets he used to run around when he was younger, it was all gone in the matter of seconds. He forced himself to stop mourning over his memories as he made way towards the crumbling castle. Connor spotted a small figure ahead standing still, staring up at the shack engulfed in flames. His eyes flicked to the support beam of the hut behind the child. Time slowed as the beam broke and the crudely built shack began to topple onto the kid. The guard forced his legs to move faster towards the boy, heat building up in his armor from the proximity of the enemy’s fire and his pants. He swept the kid off his feet as he picked the child up by the torso and kept running. Connor heard the shelter crash behind them as he rushed towards the palace while holding the young boy in his arms. Metal boots pounded against the old stone steps as he moved to the hall leading to the royals’ chambers. Spotting more knights at end of the hall, Connor set the child down, “Go with those guards over there. They’ll help find your parents, ‘kay kid?” He nodded causing a small smile to appear on Connor’s face. Without a moment to spare, he darted towards the king and queen’s bedroom. He twisted the handle and pushed against the door; it didn’t budge. Connor looked down and noticed smoke coming out from under the door, he panicked as he began to put all his weight against it. Connor almost fell to the ground once he forced the door open. Smoke filled his lungs and stung his eyes while the knight searched for the royals. With tear-pricked eyes, Connor guessed what happened. The two were sleeping when the attack began. The enemy launched a large boulder, now occupying the space in the room, along with something on fire. They didn’t have anytime to fight or even prepare for their death. Slowly backing out of the room, Connor made his way to the young prince’s room. Questions circled around in his mind; Who would take over the throne now? The prince, their only child, was only six-years-old, far too young to rule over a kingdom. The queen had no family fit to take over, all either imprisoned or dead. The king’s younger brother would be the next obvious choice, if he hadn’t deserted from battle years ago. The familiar royal symbol etched into the prince’s door temporarily paused Connor’s racing thoughts. This door was much easier to open than the previous, which gave the guard some hope. Peeking his head in, his eyes instinctively scanned the room for any sign of the young heir. He found nothing. Worry gripped his chest as Connor threw the door open, desperate to find him. Deciding Ty was probably somewhere else, he ran back down the hall. Before Connor entered the throne room, he heard someone scream. Peaking his head around the corner, the guard spotted several cloaked figures standing around the dead bodies of the knights he saw earlier. “King Techno, I didn’t spot anymore enemies,” one figure reported to the other. The king walked towards the throne, he tilted his head down. Pale hands reached towards the now deceased king of the land’s crown, grabbing it and examining its shiny gold surface, one finger tracing the rubies embedded into it. Techno pulled down his head and placed the crown on top of his brown hair, a permanent sick smile pressed on his face. Connor gripped the hilt of the sword that hung on his hip. The knight’s eyes went to the exit, the open doors allowed him to see the roaring flames outside destroying everything in their path. No matter how much he wanted to kill every single person in that party, he couldn’t. It would be him against five trained killers, it would be suicide. “What do we have here, boys?” Connor watched as one man from the group drag the boy he saved from being crushed out of his hiding place. The men scanned the poor kid like a pack of wolves examining their prey. “I don’t know Sneeg, but is that a royal symbol I see?” the man who reported to the king replied. “You’re right, Poke! I think this is the little prince we’ve heard so much about!” Sneeg replied, roughly gripping the arm of the child. Techno stood with a hand on his chin, “Hm, I see that. What are you doing out here by yourself, prince?” Ty, staring at the dead bodies of his guards with red puffy eyes, didn’t respond. “Well, kid? If you don’t respond I will make sure you turn out like your friends over there.” Techno nodded towards the knights in front of them. Moments passed, the silence that filled the air became tense quickly. The royal broke the silence, “Well, I guess you asked for it. Get rid of him, boys. I wanna see what else is in here,” he sighed before standing up and walking towards the other hall. Without hesitation, Connor sprung out from behind the corner and ran towards the group with a drawn sword. Before the men realized he was there, the knight plunged his broadsword through one of their backs and out of their chest. Gripping his shoulder, Connor removed the body from his sword and sliced to the right, cutting the arm of another. He ducked as he turned towards the other, deeply slicing the other’s stomach. Blood seeped through his shirt as the assassin clutched his stomach and collapsed to the tiled floor. Pain shot through his leg once he stood up. A quick glance assured him of his assumption; one of the remaining two slashed his leg. Connor looked towards Sneeg and Poke standing several feet in front of him, his eyes looked around for Ty but the child prince was nowhere he could see. Sneeg grabbed a potion from his waistband, uncorked it with his teeth, and downed its contents. Before Connor could guess what the elixir did, both of the men charged him with their swords drawn. Unable to fend off both swords, Connor rolled to the side. He quickly stood up and cut Poke’s arm before Sneeg did the same to him. Wound burning from exertion, Connor brought his blade down as hard as he could on Sneeg’s arm. The man let out a deafening scream as blood spurted from the open wound; he stumbled back and applied pressure to injury. While Poke was looking at his companion in horror, Connor launched himself forward and sliced into Poke. He collapsed to the ground, Sneeg followed soon after. With a spinning head, Connor searched for the young heir. He found him cowering behind his father’s old throne, frail body shaking from fear and shock. The knight slowly limped towards the child, “C’mon, my prince. We have to get out of here.” Connor offered his hand towards the young boy. “Help me! Help me!” an unknown voice begged from outside Schlatt’s cave. Confused by the sudden guest, Schlatt rolled off the flat stone he called his bed and stood up, top of his horns scraping painfully against the rough ceiling as he did. The pleas continued as he sauntered towards the mouth of his cavern. The demon leaned against a strong stalagmite at the mouth, studying the pleading man in front of him. A man, dressed in battle armor of a knight with the royal’s insignia embroidered into the breast, leaned against the cave’s rocky front. He pressed one bloodied hand against the outside of his leg while the other held an item delicately wrapped in a blanket. “Can I help you with anything?” The knight’s helmeted head whipped towards Schlatt. Schlatt chuckled at the human’s fright. “Yes, please.” The knight set down the child he was holding, “I need you to take him.” Schlatt’s furry eyebrows rose at the request. The knight hobbled towards him before he could verbally refuse. In a low whisper, he begged, “Listen, I’m only asking you to take the kid. We both know I will not make it, not with this leg, anyway. Please, demon. Fulfill a dying knight’s request.”

They locked eyes for what felt like years, Schlatt staring into the man’s almost black eyes. He saw everything he went through, every injury he endured while training for his rank, the heartbreak of dealing with his and his family’s hardships, feeling utterly useless to protect those he promised to defend, seething hatred for the king that destroyed his home. Schlatt witnessed everything this guard went through, yet he fought. With nothing but pure admiration and respect, the demon nodded his head, “I’ll care for him, Connor.” Eyes brimming with tears, Connor nodded at Schlatt with newfound respect and extended a hand out to him, who copied the motion. Shakily, the knight called the child to them, “You need to listen to him as you would your parents or me, ‘kay?” he softly explained to Ty when he reached them. The prince looked between the men for a moment before gently nodding. Without another word, he walked towards the cave Schlatt called home. Schlatt turned his horned head back to where Connor stood moments before only to find air. It was a moment before he found the knight’s huddled figure on the stone ground several feet away from him. As he walked towards him, Schlatt could inspect the man closer. The setting sun left his still warm body without light. Looking out towards the sky, the warm colors blinded his eyes. Though they never met before today, Schlatt still felt as if he lost a good friend. Taking Connor’s weight in his arms, the demon carried him towards a lone tree a few feet away. He gently set the loyal knight’s body in a hole he had dug up some odd years ago as a desperate attempt to return to his fiery home that failed. Quickly freezing body now in there, he grabbed handfuls of dirt and threw them over the corpse.

[thenervousmedic]

A coffee a day... (Connor x Reader)

Note: Oof. This was certainly something to write.

Also! adding a ‘Keep reading’ line for all you poor phone users who have to scroll past all my rubbish <3

Not even 2k words, i’m so sorry, I feel a bit disappointed in myself, i’ll do better next chapter. ;w;

Chapter 10: Blinded by memories.

A rancid stinging assaulted your senses. The scent of blueblood intermingled harshly with old mould, the decay of the warehouse adding to it, a concoction of metallic burning and rotting wood making walking further into this place a nightmare. Unfortunately… the smell wasn’t the only discouraging thing adding to your growing anxiety. The thirium trail you and Connor followed had grown wild, unruly, with splatters covering the floor and smears trailing their way up the wall.

The warehouse was large… uncomfortably so. All the air in it sat still and quiet; not even the dust that hung in the atmosphere moved of its own accord. Your presence moving a small field around you, breathing life into a small bubble that surrounded you and your partner. Connor had already noticed the disgusted expression you wore. Taking light, slow, steps up a winding metal staircase as to keep your collective presence a surprise to the possible madman hiding somewhere in this building. The idea made your skin tingle from head to toe, seemingly forgetting the major downside of having a healing gunshot wound altogether.

The staircase wailed as Connor neared the top, his whole body stiffening while the LED on his temple flickered a shining yellow.

“Stay close.” He wasn't asking you, he was telling you, his voice low and grumbling as he tried to stay stealthy. The hand that held yours suddenly pulling away sharp enough for you to remember you were holding it to begin with. Slender fingers wrapping around something just behind his belt- a gun. A fucking gun, since when did he have that?

The upper floor wasn't as sparse as the open lower hangar. Boxes littering the hallway where several doors all lay open lazily, Old scraps of newspapers catching your attention for a moment.

That moment ended with a clattering. Something plastic and metal sounding as I'd it had been thrown across a room down the hall, your gut churning in response.

“Not good enough. No, not good enough. Again!” Chanted down the hall, drowning put your advancements as you perked up from behind Connors shoulders.

The voice was… Hmm. Familiar?

It was recognisable but you couldn't tell where from. Determined, self deprecating, dangerous. The ambition behind it housed frightening levels of perseverance. It itches at your ears, the tone like someone had drowned an android in hot oil then forced it to shout for hours on end, a hidden ember in your chest rekindling as it screamed again.

“It’s not WORKING!”

Connor’s arm hovered out in front of your chest, his gun hand firmly locked up in front of him, jaw tensed. Darkened brown eyes unmoving from the partially open door that the two of you now faced. Prickles of electricity ran up and down the hairs on your neck, like energy from behind the door was surging up your back.

--

With a swift, elegant, movement the RK800 kicked the door open wide, gun aimed out in front of him as he roared. “Freeze, Detroit police!” A flurry of scrap metal parts skidding across the floor. His whole body jolted back, suddenly feeling loose and wobbly at the sight in front of him.

Thirium pooled across the ground like thick, deep blue, rainwater. Remains of androids scattered haphazardly across the ground with some completely unrelated electrical circuits and components thrown aside into a hoard. It was enough to make Connor visibly recoil- his eyes widening to the carnage that was this butcher room. Some of the biocomponents he managed to scan weren't even recognisable from how far they had been mutilated and torn.

A figure stood before the two of you. Hunched over a table with its scrawny bone-like frame twitching and ticking with every nanosecond that passed by. Long draping blonde hair hung matted and clogged in blueblood as Well as other questionable substances. It's breaths ragged and out of sync. “Youuuuu.”

It felt as if every feasible sensor in Connors system had just been hit with sub zero temperatures. A solid wall of ice simultaneously setting itself up and shattering all at once. He knew the voice from… somewhere. He recognised this voice. “Put your hands where we can see them.”

With slow, sluggish, movements it shifted its weight. Raising both hands to above it's head while still glaring down at the scratched up table in front of it. It said something but it was much too quiet to hear over the thrumming of his own Thirium pump. “What?” You had asked curiously from behind Connors broad back, watching the monsters head whip towards you at the sound of your voice.

It seemed to hesitate but soon spoke up…

“Model RK800: 313 248 317 - 52…”

No…

“Execute B10C0D3 cache 794-C, authorization code 20019.”

Pain. At least the android equivalent of it. His gun clattered to the floor, firing off an unexpected shot at the impact- The suspect and yourself flinching at the sound before they quickly grabbed something and fled.

Connor dropped to his knees, both hands clasped roughly at either side of his head with a desperate cry. Eyes forced shut while he grit his teeth without thinking. Bright flashing enveloping his vision with images and sped up recordings that would be been nonsense to a human mind. Information flooding into his system like a hurricane.

--

You lunge forward before instantly doubling back on yourself as Connor collapsed to the floor instead of giving chase. Feeling every muscle in your throat and chest constrict at the guttural wail he screamed out. Whatever was happening it was hurting him and you had to stop it. You had to.

“C-Connor! Connor are you alright? What's happening-?” Panic strains through your words, the shakiness of your hands making it difficult to place them firmly on his shoulders, kneeling down in front of him with a furrowed brow. His whole body was tensed and rock solid. Arms shaking from the force they pressed onto his head.

Ignoring the sounds of your enemy's footsteps sulking out as he got away, you put your hands over Connors, trying to get him to look at you. “Hey, hey it's alright, it's ok. You're going to be ok.”

--

His systems blared and barked at him. Warning signs, update progress, and ‘unauthorised access’ all leading to an overwhelming mess of incomprehensible data. The sweet sound of your voice feels distant, as of his head had been shoved underwater, just barely mashing to pry open a painfully squinted eye to look at you.

He grunted, taking in deep shuddering breaths that helped to focus in the blurred video that repeated before his eyes.

A family. They were going out for… something. The car it… it tipped. He could feel the shards of glass as they tore through his skin. The yelp of his partner as her head collided with the dashboard- the sky turning on it’s head as the car rolled violently.

“Hey, hey it's alright, it's ok. You're going to be ok.”

He swallowed. Feeling his synthetic lungs hitch every few breaths. The warmth of your hands on his own bleeding through the chilled sparks that ran through his sensors. “Y-Y/N I… I can’t see-” He choked out, vision still engulfed in white. Dragging his hands away from his head, your own leading them down in front of the two of you. Holding him gently. “You… Alright. Ok, that’s fine, that’s ok.” He would’ve enjoyed the soft chuckling that rumbled from you if it wasn’t for the heavy alarm it was trying to mask. “You’ll get your vision back, I promise, ok? Just… Just uh- Hey, uhm, here-” His thirium pump almost stopped once your hands disappeared from his own, a frozen fear-like response shattering his resolve. Looking wildly around for you despite not being able to see. Flinching when you did eventually come back to him- your arms wrapping under his to help him stand. The thirium that coated the floor dribbling down his trouser legs from where his knees had sat in it. “I’m still here, i’m not going anywhere.”

--

Hank growled as his phone sang merrily at him, sat in his car with the windows tightly shut and the heater on, warm air humming softly from the vents. Unknown number… Hank doesn’t get many phone calls, especially not ones from strangers. He debated over ignoring it, listening to the call tire itself out, or simply declining the call. But curiosity was a dangerous thing. Who was even calling him? Why were they calling him? It’s worth at least hitting the answer button to find out. Not like it’ll kill him, right? Sigh *Click. “This is Hank, what do you want?” “Hank?! Hank, oh thank god, I thought maybe your phone was on silent or-” A strong primal impulse rattled Hank’s brain- worsening the aftereffects of his Hangover with a splitting headache as he rushed to sit upright. “Whoah, kid, slow down. What’s wrong, are you hurt?” “What? No, no, i’m fine. It’s Connor…”

“Connor?… where are you?” Something distant pulled at the back of Hank’s chest. His head and heart arguing inaudibly over the feeling that tried to grab at them both. Concern. Empathy. Whatever you wanted to call it. This walking tin can was going to give him a heart attack. The roar of the car engine sputtering and gurgling as he stepped on the gas. Tires grabbing tiredly at the road beneath them to pull the car forward. “Keep talking slugger, what’s going on over there?” “Uh, the uh, warehouse. Um, ssssecond left from my apartment, northeast of the precinct I think. It’s the big abandoned one with ‘Greymann gravel.co’ on the front.” “I know it. Vaguely. What’s wrong with Connor?” “H-Hank i’m so sorry it’s my fault, we went after this… ‘thing’ and it’s blinded him somehow. I don’t think it’s permanent but he’s worse than a bat right now, I don’t know what to do.” “Is this ‘thing’ still around?” A gritty anger rested at the edge of his voice. “No. They got away.....”