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kitbunnyroo · 3 months ago

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thinking about...abandoned android boyfriend....

lemme apologize from now...this is a looong one. it could be structured better, but it's literally just me updating this over the course of some hours/days (?). hope you enjoy this ridiculously long tidbit thooo! <3 (help y'all hit that 30 fast....tyyy!)

also omg thank you all for all the love on the centaur man post??? we love big strong bby fr, 100% will bring him back if y'all wanna see more of him 🤍🤍 (also, not proof read nothing i write is, so forgive any errors plsss)

like picture it, you just find him in a scrap yard cause your pet ran into it or something right...and you can tell that he's functioning, so you're confused as to why he got put for scrap? considering these things are crazy expensive, and the people who threw him out were ever so kind enough to leave all his original packaging, you took him back home.

it did take a while to get his station set up in a little corner, but it wasn't too bad, especially as you looked into the illuminated green eyes of the android who stood a good head or two taller than yourself once you figured out how to get him up and running again.

after you explained in even greater detail how he came to be in your possession, you could almost hear the mechanics in his brain recalibrating all the missed system updates as he now addressed you as master/mistress. not ideal, but who are you to complain once he fixes the drip in your sink that almost cost you hundreds of dollars. maybe having an android in your home wouldn't be so bad.

time flies and you come to find out he was scrapped cause beyond functionality, he had somehow developed a conscious of sorts. which when you think about it, anybody else would be freaked out by their machine suddenly smiling and showing human emotions. was it freaky? hell yeah. was it bad?....not so much.

there was lots of reassurance to be done...he thought that once he started to slip and his consciousness shone through again you'd dump him to be scrap metal too...well, after they remove the scarily realistic skin-like material that outlines his hardware. "So...you're not going to power me off and box me up like the last family did..?" he'd find himself asking after long conversations about how you don't really care he got more human-like as the days went on. living on your own it isn't that bad to feel like you have extremely helpful company rather than a machine in your empty halls. and when he looks at you oh so sweetly? how can you not tell him this is his home too.

android housemate, doing his best to make sure you're always happy. always stress free. always well taken care of. always healthy. always satisfied. so when he's cleaning your room and finds a vibrator, he's everything and appalled. why would you have this when he's right here? was he not good enough? did you not want him to help you? was it his fault? but he simply places it on it's charger and closes your door. when you get home that day you can tell something's off, it's the same air as the early stages when he thought you'd throw him out. so you just make sure to be extra sweet to your caring housemate.

android housemate, now doing research on human pleasure, watching porn, reading all sorts of articles and Quora forums. this seems easy enough to do...he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't ask him to help. darling android housemate realizing that his fans start to go double time when the pixels start to look like you instead of whoever is actually in the videos...even more so when he realizes that's what an imagination is like and that his is picturing himself with you in these videos...he wonders if that can happen....

yandere (???) android housemate who's suddenly gotten all clingy once you're home. as usual, dinner is hot and plated, desert already lined up, but as you shower you can hear him making the time to pick out your outfit from your drawers instead of double checking all is well in the rest of the house...odd, but you don't pay the particularly revealing choice of clothing much mind. dinner goes as usual, till he offers you a much more...inviting? smile after you tell him about your grievances of the day. his eyes never leaving you, even as you eat and he updates minor software...you ask if he can close the windows cause there's a much too warm of a breeze coming in, and he's suddenly glad he has the capabilities to hide the blush that threatened to rise to his fabricated cheeks since it was just his fans. he was getting a bit too much enjoyment from the sight of you wearing an outfit he had picked, enjoying his meals that he makes you everyday, you chose him from the scrap yard that he's convinced held many other androids...

yandere (??) android housemate that's gotten cold to you since you brought home another human and claim that they're your partner. he'd thought that he was being clear with his consecutive months of flirting since his research began, but apparently not clear enough. now he's forced to watch as you bring this human over, it is nice to hear you brag about how lovely he treats you though, especially when he sees them almost shrink where they sit, obviously he can already tell they won't be able to treat you better than your housemate. how could they? they're just a weak human, and he's an android that's learnt every last one of your tastes.

yandere (?) android housemate that's gotten over his chilly attitude in favour of comforting you after your breakup and every proceeding one from then on. on one hand he doesn't enjoy seeing you hurt, but on the other hand he knows the only one meant for you is him, so he'll continue to let these humans know that they won't ever hold a candle to him when it comes to your affections. you don't have to be in pain, you just have to realize he's the one for you. and you can go back to your blissful life.

yandere...android housemate who's worried after you stumble through the door after a work/college party, clearly intoxicated out of your mind. he effortlessly picks you up and takes you to your room, laying next to you when you refused to let him go cause his generated warmth was nice compared to the cold of the air conditioned room. he listens to you babble on about who knows what, and then about your latest break up, and then he's shocked when you blurt out that he'd make such a good boyfriend if he wasn't an android...and somehow, somewhere in his wiring, that hurt? but it also lit something cause you went on to praise all he does for you, especially highlighting his advances and he comes to the conclusion that you only started looking for a human partner because you had assumed that although he had a conscious, he couldn't feel romance. and boy was he now determined to prove you wrong.

yandere. android housemate, now doing everything possible after that night to display romantic affection. sensual massages after particularly aggravating days where his fingers work wonders to the tension coursing through your body, at first you don't think much of it, but when you feel the spikes of breeze specifically from him after every one of your moans, you try to keep your voice down. he downloads them to his software though, and is quickly researching the different modifications available for his kind.

yandere android housemate that gets tired of being referred to by his model name and demands you give him a proper one. and you do. and he loves it. thankfully, he's still linked to the cards of his previous family, so he can make purchases using their money instead of yours without suspicion. he gets his "personal" modification made under their card, leaves right after you do for school/work, and he's back before you're home, already getting things sorted for when you're back. now he just has to hide the tent that forms whenever you call him by the name you gave him....

newly named yandere android...you're not sure anymore. after walking in on him far too many times since you're used to him usually being smooth, but now he has an...enticing, length of dick just hanging between his legs, it's kind of awkward. even more so when you find yourself outside his newly appointed bedroom to ask him to do something, and end up overhearing his whiney voice floating through the air. now you can't help but wonder how it feels if the rest of his skin feels like regular human skin...maybe an android boyfriend won't be so bad after all...

your android housemate, putting in extra work to keep you happy once he realizes you're not bringing home any more humans. even the vibrator and any other toys you might've had are stored away rather than readily available near your bed. maybe if he does a good enough job, you'll finally ask him for help. you swear you see a subtle throb in his pants sometimes when the thought runs through his not so little android brain.

your android boyfriend with fans so loud when you finally ask him to touch you, that you could've sworn you misread his intentions. but as soon as you try to back out of the situation he's pulled you against his chest with one of hands deeply entangled in you hair while the other hugs you close to him, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was desperate for that moment...that and the fact that once you're finally in bed he takes initiative to slip under your blanket next to you instead of going to his own room, his hands finding their way snugly around your waist to cuddle you but surely making their way lower down, quicker when he realizes that not only are not trying to stop him, but you're basically leaning into his touch. the frenzy he goes into when you whisper his name that you gave him has your legs quivering on his shoulders, toes pointed every which way as those same illuminated eyes stay glued to your body, confusingly realistic tongue moving more enthusiastically with every sound you make.

your android boyfriend. who now takes any chance he can get to ask if he can fuck you. if his tongue game was this good...what else was he capable of? the thought barely has time to run across your mind because as soon as you agree he's gonna have you folded in half and stuffed full of the most realistic dildo you've ever felt. it didn't feel fabricated in the slightest. from the throb of the veins in your walls to the way it drags so fucking good inside of you, and he makes sure to study your body as he goes. this particular spot made your eyes roll? he's going right back there. you like having you sensitive bits teased while his balls are slapping your skin so hard you can hear them through the wet mess? he's abusing them. by the time he's done you've came enough times to lose count, and best believe he makes sure to endlessly thank and praise you through every bit of it. comments of how good you make him feel, the dimming of his eyes enough to let you know he really does feel it, thanking you for letting him be this close to you, begging you not to go when you try to squirm away from the overstimulation (he calms down a bit so you can catch yourself whenever it's really too much), not to mention the starved kisses he gives you whenever the position allows (all the time). he'll have your back against the wall and hold you up so the only place you can go is further onto his cock while his tongue finally gets to explore your mouth. you'd never believe an android could be so adorably vocal. the moans, the whimpers, the whines. (he can't bring himself to degrade you though, sorry </3)

your android boyfriend making sure he puts the utmost effort into after care. if you let him hit, he's sure to run you a shower or bath of your preference, and trust that when you're out he's already got you a freshly made meal with an accompanying drink. he always makes sure to ask if he was too rough with you, gently massaging your muscles while you relax after your meal. if there's anything, anything at all you desire, he already does it for you, but now he'll go the extra miles if it means you'll be even happier.

your android husband, proposed after years of taking you out on the most wonderful dates, planned more of the wedding than you did since he only wanted you to worry about looking your best, he does let you help if you want though <3. android husband who can't cry, but you almost swear you see him sobbing as you walk (or he walks if you'd prefer) down the aisle, the tears slowing down but never to a complete stop till it's finally time for the "I do"s. your android husband who takes you on a splendid honeymoon of nothing but relaxation, good sights and food, and even better sex. he knows he can't get you pregnant, but that doesn't mean he can't try extra hard once the topic of children roll around. if you do want children though, he's not against adoption (or a sperm donor once their background checks out)

(for his family he invited his previous family, who were surprisingly chill with him using their cards to fund your vacations and now wedding...talk about rich rich)

your android husband <333.

this totaled to 2,264 words (woah??), and i can NOT lie?? i like it. hope you enjoyed this terribly long read and tysm again for all the support like hello!!🤍✨

#kit🐰rambles #oohhh its a long one #he's so....mmm #can we tell i had extra fun with this one #monster nsft #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster kink #monster love #monster smut #monster x human #monster x reader #monster x you #gender neutral reader

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nevadancitizen · 11 months ago

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-> THE BURDEN OF TOMORROW

synopsis: kamski reveals the one thing you know to be true as a lie: your humanity. connor can’t rightly sit idly by as you struggle to re-find yourself.

word count: 4.2k

ships: connor x reader, hank anderson & reader

notes: i’m skipping from fandom to fandom like i’m fucking window shopping huh. anyway connor the pinerrrr. connor the ultimate denier of feelingssssss

related reading: HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

You had been against the idea from the beginning. In your head, you traced the different ways Kamski would turn you, Hank, and Connor down – “I’m too busy to answer some stupid questions,” or “Go away, I’m trying to enjoy being a retired billionaire,” or “I’m Elijah fucking Kamski, and who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

But his android, Chloe, had welcomed all of you. And you couldn’t ignore how Kamski’s face brightened ever-so-slightly when he saw Connor. But it confused you even more when his eyes flitted to you and his expression brightened even more.

He started talking after he got out of his red-granite-lined pool, which didn’t really interest you. Your eyes turn to one of the Chloes that’s standing off to the side, her eyelids fluttering a little as she presumably scans you. When she’s done, her lips tilt upward in a smile and her head cocks to the side a little. It’s like… she knows you, or something. Like she was smiling because she saw an old friend.

Kamski’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Chloe?”

Chloe immediately walks over to Kamski, her bare feet making soft sounds against the tile, then muffled by the carpet. She sinks to her knees when he puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes slightly.

“What interests me…” Kamski moves so he’s standing next to where Chloe’s kneeling. “… is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

He moves so his back is turned on all three of you, and opens a drawer of a side table near the window. “I call it the “Kamski Test.” It’s very simple, you’ll see.”

Kamski turns with his hands raised. One of them is holding a pistol by the barrel, in a way that it would be impossible to fire. Once he’s established that he’s not a threat, he moves forward and places the grip in Connor’s hand. Connor curls his fingers around it on instinct, his index on the trigger.

“What are you doing?” You interject.

Kamski looks over at you and smiles. It’s like you’re proving something to him. What you’re proving, you don’t know.

He moves Connor’s arm so that the sights of the gun are trained on Chloe’s head. “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine, and I’ll tell you all I know. Or…”

Kamski makes a half-circle and stands beside Connor. “Spare it, if you feel it’s alive. But you’ll leave without having learnt anything from me.”

Hank scoffs and rolls his eyes, gently hitting your arm with an air of can you believe this fucking prick? “Okay, I think we’re done here. C’mon, let’s go, both of you. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

You put your hand on Hank’s arm to still him and stare at Connor. His LED flickers between yellow and red, circling in on itself quickly as he stares down at Chloe. His eyelids flutter slightly as he tries to process everything around him, calculating and sorting every possibility into neat percentages.

“Connor?” You say softly, trying to break him from his trance. “Connor, come on. This is a waste of time – you don’t need to do this. It could mess with your…” you gesture at your forehead vaguely. “… microprocessors or whatever.”

Kamski exhales slightly and smiles. He takes the pistol by the barrel, gently taking it from Connor’s hand. Connor looks at Kamski, then back down at Chloe.

“Amazing,” Kamski breathes out.

“Yeah, amazing, I care about Connor.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

Connor catches your eye and nods. “I would’ve been okay. Shooting the android wouldn’t have impacted my microprocessors or any of my other biocomponents.”

“The kid’s just worried,” Hank cuts in. “Now, c’mon. We’re leaving.”

“Wait – one last thing.” Kamski brushes past, walking to the far wall. He presses his hand to a biometric scanner on the wall, causing it to let out a sound akin to a hiss as it opens. It creases vertically, then folds back.

You let out a small sound of disbelief as you take in what Kamski revealed. Lining the walls of the hidden compartment is… information, yes, but not information about deviants. It’s information about you.

Photos of you as a child, teenager, adult, and projections of what you’d look like as you aged. Reports on how you’ve been performing as a detective. Maps of interrelationships, circles labeled with names and a web of color-coded lines connecting them.

And, on the back wall, are blueprints. You’ve seen these types of schematics before – they’re for androids.

Kamski turns and smiles when he sees your shocked face. “So it worked. You firmly believed you were human. Am I wrong, Detective?”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, and only barely register Hank shuffling you towards the exit as you stumble. “This is fucked. I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to pull, Kamski, but we’re out.”

“N-no, Hank, wait –” You dig your heels in, never once looking away from the hidden compartment. “Wait, Kamski, what is this?”

“Just an experiment.” Kamski follows your eyes and looks inside. “A personal pet project.”

“They’re not your goddamn passion project!” Hank snaps, ushering you along with a bit more force. “Now leave the kid alone.”

“Hank, please, I want to see –” You crane your neck, still trying to look.

“This is damaging to your psyche,” Connor says, taking your arm and helping Hank herd you. “I – we need you operating at full capacity, for the sake of the case.”

“There it is, again!” Kamski laughs. “That beautiful thing, empathy.”

He walks into the room leisurely, like it’s a parlor instead of… whatever it is. “I don’t blame you for being curious. You’re a violent and irrepressible miracle, Detective.”

You struggle against Connor and Hank’s holds as you try to see more of the secret room. “Wh-what do you mean? Hank, let me see! I need to know what’s going on!”

You grab Hank’s arm with your free hand, tugging on his coat. “Hank, I promise I’ll be okay – just five minutes. All I need is five minutes! Please, let me do this. I just need to figure out what this is, then we can go. Just five minutes.”

Hank’s mouth curls into a scowl when he hears the emotion and pleading in your voice, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks. His eyes fall to the floor, then flick to Connor.

“I highly advise against that,” Connor says evenly, but his worry is betrayed by the way his jaw clenches. His fingers tighten around your upper arm. “Not only will this definitely cause irreversible psychological damage, it could possibly lead to a mental break.”

“Five minutes, Connor.” You look into his eyes. “How much damage can five minutes do?”

“A lot!” Connor says. But after a moment of eye contact, his eyes soften and he relents. He lets go of your arm and takes a step back, his shoes clicking against the tile.

Hank does the same, removing his hand from your back. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Five minutes, kid. That’s all you get.”

You immediately turn on your heel and rush into the room because, knowing Connor, he’d probably set an internal timer already. You hear both Hank and Connor follow you, standing at the edge of the doorway.

You scan the room, then pick out what to look at and what to question Kamski about.

“This.” You point at a small tablet, showing a muted video of you dancing drunkenly at a crowded party. You’re wearing a hideous necktie like a headband and you get your face right in the camera as soon as you spot it. You can make out the words you’re saying – or, rather, yelling – “What’re you waiting for, man? Let’s party with Miss Page-Three all the way to Disco Ze-e-e-ero-o-o-o!”

You turn to Kamski. “What is this? Why do you have it?”

“Every person moves in a unique way,” Kamski says, shrugging slightly. “Androids already have a specific set of movements. I analyzed the way you moved – the way a human moved.”

“Moved?” You echo back. “What do you mean, moved? Don’t you mean move? Like, the present continuous verb?”

“I didn’t misspeak.” Kamski turns to a paper organizer on a desk and starts to flip through it.

You exchange a glance with Hank, then Connor. Hank is more obvious with his unease, but you can tell Connor is fretting, too. He just keeps it in his mind, still silently calculating.

Kamski pulls out a manila folder and hands it to you. You turn it over and read what’s on the front. Typed out in neat Courier New is your name, your birth date, and a random date from a few years back – Feb. 21, 2034.

You undo the clasp and dump out the documents on a nearby desk. What’s inside only causes further confusion – there’s a photocopy of a will, a death certificate, an incident report, and photos of a car crash. The death certificate is… it’s yours, but it can’t be. Can it?

You pick up one of the pictures and hold it close to your face. The car is a mangled mess of metal, lit by red and blue police lights. Peeking out from underneath the rubble, limp on the concrete, is a hand. Your hand. And it’s stained with fresh, wet blood.

“Connor.” Your voice comes out weak and strained. You can’t lift your eyes from the photo. “Connor, get over here.”

Connor’s footsteps sound, quick and almost rushed. “Yes, Detective?”

“Scan this.” Your hand shakes as you hold the photo out to Connor. “I-is this…?”

Is this real? You want to ask. Please tell me it’s not, Connor. Connor, please-please-please tell me this is some stupid joke. I’m not afraid of dying, but what if I already have?

Connor leans down a little, his eyelids and LED flickering as he scans it. His face falls as soon as his LED resumes circling normally. “It’s… yes. I found a document containing that picture, but I… I’m not permitted to access it.”

“Okay, but that’s just s-some random wreck, right?” You laugh nervously, trying to ignore the lump growing in your throat. Can androids even cry? “It – it’s not me.”

Connor reaches down and sorts through the documents. When he comes across the death certificate, he freezes. His eyelids flutter as he scans it. He looks over at you, slowly.

“No,” you whisper. “Connor, it… it can’t be real.”

“It is,” Connor says softly. “Detective, I… I’m so sorry.”

And, just like that, you’re disconnected. You’re outside of your body, stuck in the passenger seat and controlling a video game. There’s a lag to every movement you make. You recall some term you heard in a college psychology course you were required to take – disassociation. You vaguely register that this is what you’re feeling.

With more effort than it should take, you turn to look at Hank. His expression, shocked and appalled, causes the dam to burst. Your shoulders shake as you cry, hot with misplaced shame.

Connor wraps an arm around your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room and towards the exit. Hank pats his shoulder, telling him to “Get them to the car – I’ve got a few choice words I need to exchange with our friend here.”

The car ride was tense, and that atmosphere transferred into Hank’s home. He had asked on the way back if you were okay being by yourself, and you were honest and told him that no, you’re not. He had sat you down and assured you that he wasn’t mad, he didn’t feel betrayed – he just needed time to think and adjust to this new change.

He had turned in an hour ago, just a little past three in the morning. You know you couldn’t sleep if you tried. That left you and Connor in Hank’s living room.

You’re laying on the floor with Sumo, his head on your chest and drool staining your shirt. One of your arms is propped behind your head, your other hand absentmindedly combing through Sumo’s fur.

The silence is only broken by the ceiling fan clicking with every rotation and your breathing – artificial breathing, you suppose.

“Did you go into standby?” You ask softly.

“No,” Connor answers from his seat on the couch. “Would you like to talk?”

“Maybe.” You trace the pattern of Sumo’s fur, then look over at Connor. “It’s just… I don’t feel like an android. And I have lots of memories. I remember going to Chicken Feed with Hank for the first time. He got me the best goddamn burger in Detroit. I remember finding a Lucky Star bottlecap when I was a kid – the, uh… the ones from that one sarsaparilla? With the blue star on the bottom. Androids don’t have memories like that. Memories from their childhood. Memories that make them feel things.”

Connor stands from the couch, then sits by your side. He puts his hand on Sumo’s head, gently tracing the white streak that cuts through brown fur. The fan continues to click as Connor thinks for a few moments, LED swirling as he does.

“I feel things, sometimes,” he says softly. “But not like how a deviant feels. I have a built-in reward system meant to keep me motivated. But sometimes I’m rewarded even when I do something unrelated to the case.”

“Like what?” You smile up at him. “Petting Sumo?”

Connor smiles softly, glancing away, then back to you. “Yes.”

You laugh softly, your eyes staying on Connor’s face, tracing this new expression. He doesn’t smile a lot, but you’re grateful for every second that he does.

His brow creases a little, his smile disappearing. “Are you feeling alright? I want to know if you’re… I know this revelation has affected you negatively, but I just want to know of your general mental state.”

You sigh quietly, looking up and following one blade of the fan as it rotates. “I mean, I thought I had it all figured out, y’know? There’s a giant ball, and there’s evil apes. And the evil apes are just… dukin’ it out on the ball. And I’m one of them. It’s basically all just evil apes dukin’ it out on this giant ball.”

Connor tilts his head to the side. “And in this scenario… what are androids?”

“Androids don’t exist in this scenario,” you say. “Androids are too perfect. Like fine porcelain china. They’re for the future. I figured this out when I was young, before androids were everywhere. When there was just a giant ball and evil apes.”

“Hm.” Connor shifts slightly, so that his thigh is just barely pressed against your side. “And what do you feel now?”

“I… I don’t know.” You sigh. “I feel… kinda guilty, I think? Because, yeah, it’s bad. This doesn’t have any upside to it. But it’s not bad for anyone else aside from me, and Hank, to a lesser degree. It’s not death, or war, or – god forbid, pedophilia. It’s just me.”

You go quiet as you watch the fan rotate. Your fingers find the tags on Sumo’s collar, the tag with his name and Hank’s address and number clinking against his rabies vaccination tag.

“Humans are complicated,” Connor eventually says.

You snort. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I…” he sighs. “I know you didn’t mean to deceive me. But I can’t believe I didn’t know – or at least have an inkling.”

“Shit, I deceived myself.” You laugh humorlessly. “You’re okay, Connor. You don’t need to change to accommodate me.”

“Adaptability to unpredictable human behavior is one of my core features,” he says.

“Am I really unpredictable?” You ask. Your eyebrows furrow as you fidget with Sumo’s tags. “Or, actually – am I really even human?”

Connor’s LED flashes yellow as he looks down at you, his eyelids fluttering as he scans you. He blinks a few times and his LED returns to a calm blue.

“You’ve fooled my sensors,” Connor says. “And, if I may…”

His hand hovers over yours, which is still fidgeting with Sumo’s tags. You nod as you feel your heart skip a beat. He grabs your hand and lifts it to his solar plexus, right in the middle of his chest.

“Do you feel that?” Connor asks. “It’s my thirium pump. Biocomponent #8456w.”

Sure enough, you feel a soft thrumming beneath your fingers. It’s not quite like a heartbeat, but a steady hum that fluctuates. Strong, then a steady decline to weak, then back to its strongest.

You nod again, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Connor moves your hand so that it’s resting on your own chest, right over your heart. You don’t really make an effort to check your heartbeat but, just like the last time you remember checking, there’s a steady beat.

“You have a heart,” he says.

“An artificial one,” you chime.

“Yes,” Connor relents. “But it proves that you’re not like me. Not a full android.”

“For all I know, Kamski cobbled me together in his creepy basement,” you try to joke. “Do you think he has one? Or is he too rich?”

“Detroit is located alongside a river,” Connor says. “The soil contains too much water for basement construction to be feasible.”

You roll your head a little, looking up at him. “You’re too literal. Don’t you have a humor microchip or something?”

Connor smiles slightly. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Yes, you do!” You laugh and turn your hand over, grabbing his and shaking it gently. “You’re smiling. And you made a joke. A kind-of joke.”

Connor’s smile falters when he looks down at your connected hands. It’s not like you’ve laced fingers with him or anything, but it was still kind of intimate.

You clear your throat and let his hand go, instead carding your fingers through Sumo’s fur again. You can feel a blush creeping across your face. Once more, the room is only filled with the clicking of the fan with every rotation and your breathing.

“I don’t know what to do,” you eventually sigh out. “I wish I could just wake up and start the day over. But then I open my eyes and the time has still passed and I’m still here. I still have to go through… whatever this is.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone,” Connor says. “Hank would never abandon you, and…” His LED flickers yellow. “Neither would I.”

“You’re weird,” you say softly. “You’re weird for that.”

Connor nods, slowly. “Maybe. But you’re vital to this case, whether you believe it or not.”

“I do,” you say. “Kinda. I just need time. I can see the end, which is whole acceptance, or just not caring. I mean, all the pieces aren’t here, I still need to find them, but still. I get all the pieces, somehow, something else, walla-walla-bing-bang – my android-ness doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Walla-walla-bing-bang?” Connor echoes, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I don’t know what it means.” Your eyes flicker to his and you smile at his confusion. “I think I heard it somewhere once. It just felt like the most appropriate thing to say.”

Connor’s face softens and he mirrors your smile. “That does seem like an appropriate thing to say, yes.”

You keep looking up at him for a moment, just looking into his brown doe eyes. You swallow thickly as your thoughts race. There’s a sudden lump in your throat that you try your best to ignore and clear away.

“Connor, I…” You reach for his hand. He meets you halfway, gently holding your hand and resting his thumb on your knuckles.

“Am I a deviant?”

Are you going to turn me in? You want to ask. Please don’t. Please, Connor. I need you to trust me, just like you’ve trusted me before. I’ll be vigilant. I’ll figure this out. I promise. Please.

“No.” There’s no hesitation or doubt in his voice. “As far as I’ve figured out, you’re designed to act like a human. You’re meant to fool others into thinking you’re really human – because that’s what you were, before. Deviants are androids with mutations in their code. Your code is meant to mimic human emotions and rationale. So you’re just following your instructions.”

“Instructions.” You look down at your joined hands. You shake them a little as your lips draw into a thin line. “That’s what we both come down to, right? Instructions.”

“You…” Connor thinks for a moment. “Yes. But the instructions in you are nuanced, and sometimes contradictory. I’m not calling your code faulty – in fact, it rather reflects human behavior to a tee.”

“So I’m… at least a little human.” You close your eyes, resting your head on your arm that’s propped behind your head. “Human enough.”

“Human enough?” Connor echoes.

“Yeah. My lungs burn when I hold my breath too long. It hurts when I stub my toe and I feel electric when I hit my funny bone. I cry and my tears taste salty instead of tasting like… I don’t know, cleaning fluid.” You open your eyes and look up at Connor, as if asking him to confirm.

“Androids do have optic cleaning fluids, yes,” he says.

You smile and laugh lightly, your gaze returning to the fan blade. “Optic fuckin’ cleaning fluids…”

You sigh softly. “God, Hank was right. This is fucked. An android investigating androids and some… cheap copy of whoever I used to be. And, of course, a Lieutenant who’s slowly killing himself day-by-day.”

“You’re not a cheap copy,” he says. “Typical CyberLife androids cost nine thousand dollars, but custom models could cost more. Personally, my development and production costs total to just over four million, and every new RK800 model costs eight thousand.”

Connor soothes his thumb over your knuckles. “You must’ve cost Kamski a fortune.”

His words immediately go to your heart like you’ve been pierced by a scorpion’s tail. But instead of venom, it’s an injection of sweet feelings and erratic butterflies. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that his whispered words and damn-near reverent tone was intentional.

“That’s… that sounds kinda romantic,” you say, then remember yourself. “I – I mean, romantic as in, like, the Romantic era? Like, it’s a romantic idea. That Kamski loves his work so much that he couldn’t bear to stop and continued to push the envelope… even if he pushed it a bit too far, with an android replacing a real-life, actually-dead human and whatnot.”

Connor’s LED blinks as he thinks. He stays silent for a while, just looking down at his hand that’s holding yours and thinking.

“You’re starting to act like me, y’know?” You squeeze his hand. “A synthetic human instead of a true android.”

His LED stops flickering and he meets your eyes. “I am not a deviant. I have a rigorous self-testing system to make sure any signs of deviancy don’t go undetected.”

“Okay, okay,” you relent. You glance down to your conjoined hands, then back up into those doe eyes.

“Did you mean it?” You ask softly. “Earlier. When you said that you’d stay.”

“Of course,” Connor answers quickly.

“Really?” Your eyebrows crease. “Because it’ll take years. It’ll be depressing. And it’ll be boring. I’ll be worse than Hank. I don’t expect you to reward me or to applaud my every move, because I know that’s how normal people are all the time.”

“But you’re not normal,” Connor says with a smile. “Even before your entire identity was uprooted.”

“Connor!” You laugh and let go of his hand to swat at him, then grasp his hand again. “Alright, alright. I’ll get a bit of the Normal in me. A touch of the Regular. Exactly four grams of Johnny Normalcop.”

“Don’t.” He squeezes your hand. “It would be detrimental to the case if you were to focus on restructuring yourself in a different way. You don’t need to sanitize your personality.”

You smile up at Connor. “So you like me.”

His LED flickers yellow, then returns to blue. “Yes. I enjoy working alongside you as you are. You don’t need to be any amount of Johnny Normalcop.”

You shake your joined hands gently, your smile growing so wide you’re sure you looked a bit stupid. “You’re sweet. You know that?”

“I am somewhat aware.” Connor brings his free hand up to rest on top of your connected hands.

And, just like that, you know everything would be alright. Nothing would ever be the same, yes, but it would be alright. It won’t be easy, but you just need to move on. Uncertainty is a core tenet of detective work.

When life closes a door, it opens a window. And if the fall is too steep, use the fire exit. Run to the roof, because Connor will be there when you jump to break your fall. The most important thing is to keep moving. Keep dreaming. CyberLife can’t reclaim their lost property if you keep running – very, very fast, from one Earth-shattering revelation to the next.

#riptide writes 🌊#dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #connor rk800 #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x you #connor rk800 x you #rk800 x you #connor x you #dbh x you #detroit become human x you

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slaytheusurper · 5 months ago

Text

⭑ Delicious depravity ⭑

Ewanverse masterlist

A/N: I need serious help

Request: No

Pairing: Solo!Michael Gavy x Reader (only readers pic)

Warnings: NSFW, Michael is horny asf, pervy Michael, Michael discovers insane fleshlight, jerking off to readers bikini pic, more modern setting (Instagram exists)

Summary: Michael tests out his first fleshlight when coming across your new Instagram post ;)

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @venmondiese , @sylasthegrim (for my pookies)

Michael closed the door behind him in his dorm, after a long day of classes he just wanted to enjoy some alone time. Not that he had many friends to tire him but the amount of people he had to deal with everyday made his social battery drained nonetheless.

He set down his bag on his desk, opened it and pulled out his phone. Wondering if he should try sending Oliver a message again about hanging out tonight, he thought against it. It was a week ago that Oliver dumped him for Felix Catton and his heart hurt at the memory.

So instead he would settle for a night in, he threw his android phone on his small single bed and unlaced his shoes. He switched his khaki pants and short sleeved blouse for some comfortable grey joggers and his favourite t-shirt.

Michael got settled on his bed, it was far too early to get settled under the covers so he grabbed his phone and mindlessly scrolled through his emails. Until he got a notification. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was from Instagram, you had posted a new picture.

He clicked on the notification and Instagram opened, instantly switching to your profile. His breathing became heavy once your bikini clad body filled his screen. Fuck you looked amazing, the bikini barely covering your tits and cunt.

He obviously knew of your little trip to Italy, the beach and bright sky behind you in the photo but he cared little for that. His cock started to swell in his joggers, the outline of it becoming very clear through the fabric.

Michael felt like a fucking pervert when his free hand moved to massage himself through his pants but he couldn’t help it, he got so turned on by your revealing bikini. He gave up on restraining himself and lowered his sweatpants.

Pulling down his boxers as well so he could free his aching dick. He zoomed in on your barely covered tits with one hand, his other now starting to tenderly tug on his uncut member. Soft whines already left his lips, hand moving faster as he pleasured himself to your picture.

But tonight it wasn’t enough, your photo left him horny and pulsing with desire but his hand didn’t do it for him tonight. Then he remembered his purchase from a week ago, Michael got so pent up one night, his hand couldn’t make him cum so he went on the internet and bought a fleshlight.

It arrived two days ago but he hadn’t dared touch it, shoving it in the bottom drawer of his nightstand and ignoring it. The embarrassment from such a purchase was too much for him but he was too scared to send it back as well. But now, he needed release.

He put down his phone next to him and released his cock. Bending over the side of his bed to open that cursed bottom drawer. The box of it looked daunting but he grabbed it anyway, his face flushed red with shame of what he was about to do.

With a sigh and trembling hands, he opened the box. He didn’t expect the fleshlight to be wrapped in protective plastic but he undid it all the same. Next to it was a bottle of lube, he fetched that out of the box as well before throwing the box next to the bed.

He moved his glasses up his nose and inspected the erotic toy, he forgot about the fact that the toy had a turn on button. When he pressed it, the inside of it started to automatically clench and move up and down. His heart sped up and he was glad the toy wasn’t loud.

Even though he had a single dorm he didn’t want his neighbours to hear any of the depravity that was about to happen. Glancing over at the screen of his phone again, his cock ached and he opened the bottle of lube.

Unsure if he had to lube up his own member or the toy he opted for his cock and squirted a good amount on his hands. He wouldn’t be Michael if he didn’t check the instructions of the lube and read that it was best to warm it up in his hands first.

When he warmed up the lube enough he massaged his length with it, making sure there was enough before wiping the remains of the lube on his hands off on his bed sheet, he would wash it later.

With his phone and the picture of you in his left hand and the fleshlight in his right, he moved the opening of it to his already weeping head. He groaned as the toys' tight walls enveloped his head, already he was feeling sensitive and wasn’t sure if he would last long.

He stared at the picture of you and pressed the button on the toy, immediately a way too loud moan left his lips with the way the toy perfectly squeezed and jerked his cock. Breath stuck in his throat and arse cheeks clenched, the toy fucked his pulsing dick way too good.

Never had he felt such a sensation in his life, having never even kissed a girl, let alone fuck a girl, he was gripping the fleshlight for dear life. Whimpers and groans filled the room as well as the squelching of the toy around his shaft.

“F-fuck! Fuck baby! F-feels so f-fucking goodddd-” Michael gasped. If this was the lowest setting, how fast could this thing go? The way the fleshlight now pulsated, clenched and fucked the skin over his head had Michael drooling.

He looked at your picture and couldn’t help but imagine you were riding him right now. He imagined what your own moans and pleas would sound like as you fucked him. Please Michael your cock feels so good- Please daddy!

In his lust clouded haze he pressed the power button again, making it go faster but never did he imagine the toy would start vibrating as well. He cried out as the fleshlight jerked him faster, the vibrations feeling delicious on his tip.

He could feel the precum oozing from his head, his thighs were shaking as he moaned and gasped. Michael was sure he saw god with the way this toy was pulling the life from him. “Please baby! Fuck! Ride me just like that!” Michael cried out, he was so fucking close.

Pressing the power button again, desperate for release, the toy now started twisting as well. The vibrations got more powerful and it went up and down faster too. Michael couldn’t take it anymore, actual tears rolled down his cheeks and he started fucking up into the fleshlight.

Drool drizzled out of his mouth and he cried out for more. When the toy clenched around him again, he screamed. His cock shot ropes and ropes of cum, shooting it far into the toy which was still vibrating, pulsating and fucking him all the same.

His screams turned into sobs as he let the fleshlight fuck him longer, the sensitivity was almost too much to bear but he couldn’t stop. His cock didn’t even soften and for a moment he wondered what would happen if he pressed the button again.

And so with wet cheeks, a drooled under chin, crooked glasses and pupils blown out with lust, he pressed it again. The toy pulled a scream from him once more as it vibrated extremely strong, the clenching of it now in a perfect rhythm and the twisting in a side to side movement.

He only lasted ten more seconds before he filled the toy's tight hole again. Crying as his now empty balls felt so extremely sensitive. His tip almost hurt when he pulled the toy off him and quickly turned it off by holding the power button longer.

Not only was his entire face red and sweaty, his chest was too. His legs were still shaking and his cock was red and overly raw from all the insane pleasure. He was still gasping for air when he noticed an obscene amount of his seed dripping from the toy onto his sheets.

When he glanced at his phone again, he quickly turned it off with embarrassment. He laid the toy down next to him and tried to gather his senses. His dorm reeked of sex and depravity and it took him a while to come back down to earth.

#michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x reader smut #michael gavey saltburn #michael gavey smut #salburn fanfic #saltburn smut #michael gavey one shot

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l0relaii · 4 months ago

Note

I just read that Connor writing you did about reader being the neighbor and I NEEEEEEDDDD the rest you’re such an amazing writer that cliffhanger got me😔

ohh my god thank you <3

it was my first time writing smth for connor and i was a bit nervous so ig that's why i left it at that 😭

part 1

"i'm sorry, this has never happened before-"

"d'you need.. any help with it?"

"i guess i do.. could uh- could you help me?"

"i thought you'd never ask"

now he was sat on your couch looking around the room. he'd never been over to your place before so he was trying to analyze anything that could tell him something about you that he didn't already know

he saw some books on a shelf, titles he recognized, some of them he knew you burrowed from hank

some makeup products amongst which he spotted what he assumed was your favourite shade of lipstick, since you wore it almost all the time, just like you were now

he memorized it, the image of your lips coated in that pretty shade. he'd often even fantasize about them

he wondered how they would feel like against his own when you kissed him, how his skin would look like littered with stains from you

he looked at the walls at every picture frame, some of them were of you, some of them of people he did not recognize

but what caught his eye was the little picture frame on the drawer next to the tv. a picture of you between him and hank holding sumo up by his front legs

he had the same picture on his nightstand at hanks place, their place

he remembered that day so clearly. it was the day he started acknowledging the fact that he might be falling in love with you

he snapped out of the trance like state he was in when you sat beside him shyly, your attitude so different from when you invited him in. your cortisol levels were higher than usual

you were stressed.

you were the one who offered to help him, so why are you feeling so anxious? you wondered where did all that boldness go?

he agreed to your offer, so you know he's expecting something from you

"uhh, have you.. have you done this before?"

"what? engaged in sexual intercourse? no, i haven't, yet"

"oh so.. you know how things are done, right? i supposed it's the same thing as if you were a hum- oh shit, i'm so so sorry that sounded so wrong-"

"you don't need to apologize, it's the truth, i'm an android, but that doesn't matter, right?"

his hand sneaks onto your thigh giving you a reassuring squeeze. his touch is pleasant, very pleasant

you wonder how you could go such a long time without it? without having him so close to you

interesting how such a small interaction can have such a big effect on you. now he's curious what other type of interaction may result in

"yeah i guess you're right.."

you lean towards him instinctively, connor mimicking your movement. you're so close to him, you can see every little freckle and mole on his face, god he's so handsome

your noses almost touch while you do some analyzing of your own. then you see his LED has turned from the previous peachy colour to a light pink shade

that's new as well

before you can ask him about it he closes the gap between you two, finally getting to feel the softness of your lips against his

everything is happening so fast that you don't even realize you ended up in your bedroom caged under his weight

your head is spinning and your ears are ringing while he trails kisses on your exposed neck

in your trance like state, lost in your own thoughts, you once again fail to notice when all your clothes disappear, thrown by connor somewhere on your bedroom floor

you feel his hands rubbing up and down your body, inspecting you, analyzing you while he feels your sweet scent invading his system

his thigh is nudged between your legs grinding up into you and his LED is flickering fastly, a now hot pink shade lighting up in the dim light of the room

you didn't even think he was.. equipped with the parts you're seeing now, that you feel poking at your thigh

sure, you heard about androids designed to do only this, their sole purpose being to pleasure humans

but after all, he was one of cyberlife's most advanced models, maybe they thought he'd need this in some investigation?

you read in an ad for the eden clubs about the traci models, and you remember feeling sick to your stomach after finding out what some humans did to the poor androids, how could anyone do this to another being?

that's the problem, they were not beings in the eyes of the cruel people that tortured them

The WR400 models are the most advanced design of sex partners. These specially developed models are equipped with functional genitals and are designed to fulfill all fantasies, from the most common to the most exotic.

The WR400 can easily be customized to alter their appearance at will, catering to the tastes of any client. Sexual intercourse with such machines does not fall under prostitution and is not prohibited by any law.

machines. that's all they were in the eyes of the monsters that did all those horrible things to them, no wonder some of them deviated and killed their aggressor

you didn't feel pity for them, why should you? they got exactly what they deserved, no one should be treated that way

you look up at him and into his eyes noticing the warmth and emotion in them while he analyzes you too. how could someone look at an android and not see a living being? another human?

connor looks human, sounds human, acts human and you sure do know that he thinks and feels like a human

hank told you what happened at the club, after the first time you saw connor dragging the grumpy hungover lieutenant in the car

later that night he called you asking you to come to the park

you didn't ask him what happened, where he went, what he did and why the hell he was in the park so late at night

instead you got dressed for the cold weather and put on the lovely coat you got for sumo to match the blue color of his leash

hank would often tease you and laugh at your overcaring personality towards his dog, but he was glad that you were there to take care of sumo when he couldn't

he also felt guilty about not being there for his furry companion at times, but at least he was glad that he had you

"he's a dog honey, he won't feel the cold, don't you see all that damn fur? i sure do see it on my clothes"

you responded in a baby voice scratching the saint bernard's head while he licked at your hand

"ohh, is that so boy? are you shedding again? maybe we should brush you this evening, what about a bath, huh? you'd like that sumo?"

the only response you got was an excited loud bark and fast wagging of his big fluffy tail

of course he didn't understand a damn thing you said, he just loved when you talked to him using that voice

you were sure he wouldn't love it when he ended up in the bathtub later that evening

you once read somewhere that his breed adores 'water activities such as playtime in the shallow waters but also swimming a bit deeper' maybe the tub wasn't deep enough for his liking? and the dog shampoo you rubbed on him surely didn't help

you knew where to find hank, he always sat on the same bench. he once told you he used to come here with his son, before the tragic accident happened

you recognized his car and your heart skipped a beat when you saw connor in the passenger seat

you tapped on the window and when he rolled it down you could hear the familiar heavy metal your neighbour liked to blast out in the middle of the night

connor told you that there was a "minor issue that had occurred" between them, that hank said he'd go and get "more drunk" but he just paced around the bench while he went back to the car

his answers were so calculated and stoic back then, his tone cold and so different from the tone he used right now to compliment and praise you

"such a good girl f'me.. so eager to help me.. d'you know how long i've been waiting to do this..?"

you feel his fingers dragging through the dampness between your legs while he is smirking at you

"mno.. a-ahh fuck- connor please-"

"since the first time i saw you..d'you know i thought you were hank's wife at first? fuck you have no idea how relived i was when he told me you were just his neighbour.. "

he remembered seeing you later that same night, after his argument with the lieutenant.

you brought sumo with you in a blue fluffy coat and asked him to watch the dog while you had a talk with his partner

he watched you walk angrily to where the man was sat on the bench and he saw your pissed off expression when you snatched the bottle from his hands and smashed it on the ground

"hey, what the fuck d'you think you're doing you fucking andro- oh, sorry i thought you were-"

"seriously hank? was it not enough when you almost got yourself into a coma earlier?"

"wait, how'd you kno-"

"oh i don't know, maybe because i saw the broken window and the bottles in your kitchen when i came after sumo? damn it hank, you have to stop or you'll end up killing yourself one day"

"oh spare me the lecture darling, y'know you sound just like him right now"

"like who?"

"like the cocky bastard sitting in my car, always bragging about accomplishing every mission, well guess what, this time he didn't"

he told you about what happened at the club, how they caught the two deviants responsible for a murder, how connor couldn't wouldn't shoot them

you knew then, even before he did, that he was slowly becoming a deviant himself

slowly becoming the man who currently held you close to his chest while entered you slowly

"fuuck sweetheart.. you feel so good wrapped around me.."

he felt you clinging to him desperately whimpering when he was fully inside you where he stayed still, letting you accommodate while feeling your pulsing walls squeezing him

"thought you'd be more uh- bold after seeing you deal with hank so many times.."

he liked how you put the loud mouthed lieutenant in his place every time he acted up, something he couldn't do since he had to obey him but he loved seeing you doing it in his place

but seeing you so different and submissive while squirming under him turned him on so much, especially when he knew that he was the one to make you act that way

"oh, i'm sorry it's just that-"

"i'm not complaining.. i actually like it"

he starts moving slowly while rubbing your hip, a comforting touch that made your stomach flutter

his pace was a slow one, dragging out every thrust while relishing in the way you felt and sounded

after you were done he held you close to his chest rubbing circles into your shoulder blades with his strong yet gentle fingers

he was afraid you were going to ask him to leave, maybe this was just a casual thing to you, you were just 'helping' him, as you said you would earlier that evening

what if you were only doing what hank asked you? helping him.. explore what being human felt like

and fuck he felt so alive in that moment, it was like you two (and the sleeping dog in your living room) were the only creatures on the planet, nothing mattered

not anymore when he was here, with you

"please don't go.."

"i won't, i promise"

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

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spicycinnabun · 2 months ago

Note

for make me write: 🤖🤖🤖🤖

adore this au!!

The team had decided they were going for a beer after work. Tommy had skipped the last two outings, so he agreed.

He shouldn't have.

“Bring your girl along, huh?” Sal said. “We all wanna meet that little pistol you're bein' so tight-lipped about.”

All eyes turned towards Tommy. He didn’t react much beyond a quiet hmm, though his pulse jolted.

EB, who was busy organizing the tools in the rig, started getting noisier. Clang! Bang! Slam!

“I’ll ask,” Tommy hedged, pulling his chamois through his hands. She’s not my girl. She doesn’t even exist. “Not sure I want to subject her to you boneheads.”

Anderson laughed. “Aw, come on. We’ll play nice. Won’t we, boys?”

“Can I come?” EB asked abruptly, turning to face them, prybar clenched in his hands. His firemark darkened as their conversation halted.

Tommy frowned.

EB had never asked to join them before. They'd never invited him, either.

EB was always at the station. A permanent fixture. He only left to go on calls or to run errands.

It hadn't occurred to Tommy that he might want to come out and do something unrelated to his tasks. Maybe bots needed to unwind, too.

Eventually, there was a ripple of shrugs and okays.

EB looked to Tommy first, seeking. Tommy nodded. Then, EB looked to Gerrard.

Gerrard scoffed. “Fine. Just don’t break anything. We’ve spent enough on repairs already. You’re leaking money like a faucet, EB600.”

EB nodded, full bobblehead mode. “Y-yes. Understood, Captain.”

“I, uh... actually don't think the bar allows androids, EB,” Bailey interrupted, hesitant.

“Let me check.” EB’s LED flickered for less than a second. “Oh. You’re right. It's an anti-android establishment.” He failed to hide his disappointment, deflating like a balloon. “Um, n-never mind. You guys have fun.”

He turned back to the drawers of tools, arranging them much more quietly than before.

Tommy had seen the signs on the doors. It hadn’t bothered him before how androids were treated, but now that he was close to one, his feelings had shifted.

“We can go somewhere else,” he said. EB failed again to hide his reaction, this time a hopeful noise full of static. Tommy succeeded in repressing a smile, just barely. “The drinks there are overpriced, anyway.”

“I know a place that does flaming Thirium shots,” Anderson offered, eyebrows raising.

Gerrard sighed, breaking them up. “Alright, ladies. You can enjoy your cocktails and gossip hour later. Back to work!”

⚙︎

tag list: @brassm-tagged @leashybebes @thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish @setmeatopthepyre @bibuckeroo @station18908 @hmg621 @buffaluff @disastardly @figuringitoutaloud @bbbuckalou @ambernotember @theredrenard @hyperfocusthusly @tedious-waffle @screamlet @xmidhel @nochance-noway

@rcmclachlan @popfly @powersuitup @nonotyourspumoni @espressopatronum454 @loulou-land @all-the-feelss @comeon-intothemadhouse @jake-is-screaming-in-tune @therealstacyfakename @whizzzerbrown @the-omniscient-narrator @5ammi90 @crazypenguin88 @thuperrah @just-barrow @exhaustedpirate

#thank you!#💙🤖#make me write #bt beep boop au #911 #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy au #bucktommy fic #tevan #kinley #firebeast #robobeast #android au #dbh au

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howi99 · 5 months ago

Text

Prince of Vale 12

Jacques: I can't believe it! I lost everything to this bitch! I rebuilt the entire company from the ground up and this is my thanks!?

Watts: *sarcastically* Oh how sad! Jacques Schnee is being kicked out of his company with millions of Lien in his bank account. What a tragedy.

Jacques: *looking at the man standing next to him* It also means you won't have any more financial support! You should be as upset as me!

Watts: *chuckle* Oh don't you worry about that part. I already found someone else interested in my project. I'm sure you've heard of her? Blond, graceful, with a LOT of generational wealth... *Smiling* And is in good terms with your now ex-wife.

Jacques: *frowning* Were you... Plotting against me!? All of you!?!

Watts: *shaking his head* Oh i wish, but I didn't. You brought your own downfall and-

Jaques: *angrily walking to Watts, cutting him* Watts, you son of a-

*Gunshot*

Jacques: *on the ground, dead*

Watts: *sigh, using a handkerchief to clean the blood from his face* How rude, i was going to finish my speech. *Looking at the android who killed Jacques* Now, let's get back to work now, shall we?

______________________

Jaune: *yawn* I'm beginning to understand why people delegated their work to multiple people.

Ozpin: *chuckle while placing the documents back in his drawer* Don't worry too much, you will get the hang of it in no time.

Winter: *bursting inside the headmaster's office* Your majesty!

Jaune: *quietly* Please don't be another diplomatic incident...

Winter: My f- *shaking her head* Jacques Gelée was assassinated near the Valean airport.

Jaune: *surprised* When!? How!?

Winter: Shot in the head, we don't know the time of death.

Jaune: *sigh* The fool tried to leave without anyone noticing. Didn't he knew he was the most hated man on Remnant? *Looking at Winter* You are free to make an investigation with the help of the local police force.

Winter: *bowing before leaving*

Jaune: *looking at Ozpin with fatigued eyes* Was this normal for my mother?

Ozpin: To have multiple diplomatic incidents in a month? Or to be overworked? Because both of the answers are yes.

#jaune arc #jacques schnee #arthur watts #rwby ozpin #winter schnee #rwby #rwby au #prince of vale

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monicracar · 1 year ago

Text

Been playing a lot of Pokémon recently, and decided to do some past/future paradox fakemon designs based on tartar! The name of them are DEAD RINGER and IRON CORDS, respectively. Credit to Snazzy who helped came up with some lore, their names and their type!

Under the cut is some concept/ideas during the process of creating these designs.

Dead ringer is a steel/grass type. I take inspiration from the actual wall mounted phone from late 19th century that are made of wood, put onto a wooden shelf on wall with wooden drawer attached. The body resembles an antique wooden table with foil gold legs. He has a grassy tie on the drawer handle and a tattered clothing resembling table cloth. The phone cord is very thick indicating a lot of strength, with the phone pole resembling a tail. The anatomy kinda works like kangaroo with the tail being a strong support of the body. Dead ringer only developed primary communication function, and he cries in Morse code. He find hollow objects to tie to his cord to amplify his sound to act intimidating too.

Iron Cords is a steel/electric type. I take inspiration on how black holes are illustrated/visualized in text books/medias as a black colored funnel with white wireframe showing its shape, and translate the shape to his ‘speaker’. This Pokémon already lost its function as a phone, as it is build more for storing information and such. It walks in plantigrade posture and is more android looking. Because of how it follows its program without failing, it started make human feel distant as it seems emotionless and soulless. The wireframe are also inspired by 3D modeling. I can say also iron valiant’s lore and design inspired this design too.

#fanart #my art #fan art #monicracar #fakemon #pokemon #paradox pokemon #splatoon #splatoon 2 #commander tartar #octo expansion

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barleyo · 2 years ago

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Love Machine. (Part Two)

Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader

A/N: Sorry for the wait! It took me a while to brainstorm ideas for this. Plus, I’ve been super busy lately! However, I have been trying to keep myself out of another hiatus, so, here I am with another fic! Hope you all enjoy, I love you all a whole bunch :)

Wordcount: 1.6K

Tags: Oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, p in v, spit play, hair pulling, sex doll/android, slight degradation, kinda some objectification (?)

Leon became a permanent fixture in (Y/N)’s sex life. She had practically disregarded every other toy she had; none of the cute, little vibrators in her top drawer could do the job for her anymore. She needed something real– well, sort of real.

The longer she owned him, the more attached she got to him, and the less ashamed she became of having him in her possession. She even started to see him as more of a boyfriend, going as far as to keep him almost always on, allowing him to walk around her home freely.

“Can I? I mean, I don’t know if it’ll do anything for you, but….” (Y/N) was already on her knees, sitting right between Leon’s legs while he sat on the plush couch’s cushion.

“Everything you do does something for me,” he quickly interrupted, running his hand over the cold metal of his belt buckle, a shining addition to the pants she had found for him soon after bringing him home. “Everything.”

Her hands flew up to replace his own. Using the pad of her thumb, she forked the belt open and unzipped his pants. His cock was already stiff and unconstrained, with no boxers to cover the length.

“Ah,” her lips parted slightly at the sight and her tongue darted out quickly to wet them.

Leon wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it lazy strokes, watching as her eyes focused on the leaking head. “Hm? Look, it’s ready for you,” he said, a huff escaping his nose as he held back a chuckle.

She tried to lean forward to place a lick over the top, but he stopped her. His hand gripped her hair gently and forced her to look up at him.

“Hey, I’ll guide you, yeah?”

(Y/N) nodded and felt him loosen his grip, but still keep her in place with his hand. Taking the other hand, he smeared the head of his cock over her lips, coating them in a thin sheen of his pre. Her tongue slipped out again, tasting the glossy saltiness, and keeping her tongue out for him.

“Oh, that’s cute, baby. Keep that tongue out for me.”

Leon tapped his heavy tip on her tongue, smiling inwardly at how she tried to curve her tongue to coerce the full length into her mouth. He complied and pushed her head down quickly. Her throat constricted around his cock for a moment before she adjusted.

She looked at him through her eyelashes as her spit started to dribble down his length and down her chin. Her jaw already ached at how wide her mouth had been split to fit him, but she powered through, eyebrows drawing together and eyes pricking with tears. Pressing her head down one more time before letting her go, he groaned at the tight, warm, wet fluttering of her throat, desperate for air.

“Christ, Leon,” she said with a choked gasp, “didn’t know it’d be that rough.”

“Rough? (Y/N), you don’t even know what rough feels like, you big baby,” Leon said with a dry laugh, clearly trying to get a reaction out of her.

“Yes, I do, and that was it.” She rose up and sat over one of his thighs, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Couldn’t even breathe.”

“Well, if you really wanna have the air knocked outta you,” he teased, slightly moving his head and turning to show his dial the best he could.

“Oh, hell no, you already wear me out enough as it is, Leon.”

“Aw, c’mon, I bet you’ll like it, if you try it.” He tilted his head to the side and offered her the dial again.

(Y/N) pursed her lips for a second while she thought and hovered her fingers over the dial. “Okay, but you have to at least try to be easy with me.” She bit the bullet and switched the dial to rough mode.

“No promises.”

Leon’s eyes blanked out for a split second, and a red light flashed out from them as he rebooted. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and he only acted when she tried to call out to him.

“Leon–?”

“Been too easy on you, baby.” He pushed her off of his lap and onto the couch, trapping her under his weight. “You getting soft on me? Can’t handle it when ‘m a lil mean?”

“N–no, Leon,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes averted from his. His gaze felt stronger now, she could feel him piercing through her with every look.

“Don’t lie to me. You can’t even look me in my eyes, can you? Hey,” he called, gripping her chin and making him look at him again. “Look at me when I talk to you, you know better, hon.”

She tried to respond, but she couldn’t force herself to. Her mouth and eyes went dry. Leon sighed, his breath short and warm as he pulled her body down to the other end of the couch.

“If you won’t talk, I’ll use your mouth ‘til you have somethin’ to say.” He hovered over her face with his thighs on either side of her head. Without any hesitation, Leon bottomed out in her throat, feeling the back of it. It was smooth and warm against his shaft, and the squeezing of (Y/N)’s choked gurgling only prompted him to fuck it harder. “Oh,” he chuckled darkly, “there, sweet girl. Got such a nice mouth, feels so good wrapped around me. Could use you like this forever.”

She reached up and grabbed onto the thick muscle of one of his thighs, bracing herself for his pace. He pulled out after a moment, moving down so that he had her trapped still, legs caging around her hips. She whined and coughed a bit, grimacing at Leon’s smirking face.

“All that cryin’ n’ moaning needs to stop, baby. Are y’ready to be a big, tough girl f’me?”

(Y/N)’s voice was croaking and wheezy as she spoke. “Yes, I can do it– can be good for you,” she said.

“Good.” Leon was already pulling her pants off of her, tossing them far over his shoulder. He placed her legs over his waist and slotted himself between them. He let his thumb trail over her clit, just barely touching it. His other hand gripped and held her hips down while she tried to inch them up into his whispering touches. “No, stop all that. I’ll give you what I think you need.” He added a bit more pressure, enough to have the full pad of his thumb pressed against the little bud.

“Please, I need more. Can you fuck me, please?” She impatiently wrapped her legs closely around him, forcing his hand away from her cunt, but pressing his cock right against it.

“You’re so needy, baby,” he cooed, giving into her and rutting his tip through her slick. “How bad do you want it, huh? How bad?”

“S–so bad, fuck, c’mon, don’t tease me.”

He pressed his lips against hers roughly, gnashing their teeth together and slipping his tongue over hers. There was no softness in the exchange, only rough, red-hot pleasure. Leon finally pushed inside of her. She gasped at the intrusion, despite her begging, the feeling of him pushing into her cunt was unexpected. He fucked into her mouth with his tongue while he started to burry himself deep inside of her.

Pulling away from the kiss, Leon was slowly pulling in and out of (Y/N)’s pussy, observing how her face contorted. “Open, (Y/N).”

Her eyebrows were furrowed a bit, a reaction to the sudden sharp thrust from him. She parted her lips and let a moan bubble in her chest when she felt his spit hit her tongue.

“Swallow. Swallow, dirty girl,” he urged, eyes glued to her mouth as he watched her hold it in her mouth greedily. She swallowed it and opened her mouth again to him, showing him the proof. “Good girl, you listen to me so well when you want to,” he said, caressing her face softly.

She nodded and bit down on her bottom lip. A soft, content sigh left her. Leon was being relatively gentle with her, until he felt a sharp squeeze from her walls.

“How’re you already close? I haven’t hardly done anything to you,” Leon said, trailing his hands down to her waist. He held onto her sides, hard enough to bruise later, and moved her body down on his cock, sliding her up and down like a toy. “If you’re gonna cum, you might as well cum nice n’ hard, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, and instead scooped her into his arms briefly while he laid on his back. She sat, straddling him, waiting for him to move her body. She took possession of his shoulder, digging her nails into the skin while he brought her hips up and down, bringing her to the very tip of his cock, and slamming her back to the base with brutal strokes.

She couldn’t last very long, soon throwing her head over his shoulder and gripping his blonde hair in her fingers, pulling at his scalp tightly with a deep, guttural moan. Thin globs of her arousal dripped down his cock and onto the couch, leaving wet spots over the fabric.

“Oh, that was a good one,” he said, feeling his cock kick in her, prodding at her g-spot and overstimulating her. He shifted his hips upward in a ruthless strike against her tender, abused pussy.

“Fuck, Leon, too much,” she mewled, leaning back to look at him again. Her face was flushed and sweaty, eyes heavy and lidded from her orgasm.

“No such thing,” he said, pushing her down on the couch again, holding her weak arms above her head and rutting into her. “This time, I wanna see your cute lil’ face when you cum. Can you do that for me? Hm, baby?”

#barleyxnighteye #fanfiction #smut #smutfic #x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil #re2 leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon scott kennedy #alternate universe #fanfic

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tomasweetheart · 2 years ago

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I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?

JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader

sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?

warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'

notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3

Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.

When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.

It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.

But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.

And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.

Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?

When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.

"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."

"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."

"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."

"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."

After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

Kuroo could have sworn it was real.

The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.

It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.

Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.

Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.

He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.

Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.

When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.

"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"

You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.

"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."

You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.

"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.

You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —

All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.

"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."

He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.

#love letters from leo #my dearest haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x m!reader #hq x reader #hq x male reader #hq x m!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x m!reader #kuroo fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo my love.#light of my life my sweet pie

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cartoonistcoop · 7 months ago

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ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Bennizone

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024!

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.

Today’s spotlight is @bennizone and their new comic for ShortBox, Stagnation Seed

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

BENNIZONE: Sure!

I’m Benni (she/her), or “BENNIZONE”. I’m an independent comic-artist, making an effort to fill my life with as much art as possible. My work usually centers around lesbians and/or gender-nonconformity, in some shape or form. I work with a lot of mixed media; traditional art is my one true love!

As a kid I’d scribble my own little sequences in stapled booklets. They’d be lying around everywhere, in every drawer and cabinet. As I got older, I got into comic-zines which are homemade, stapled booklets! Exactly what I’d always been making! Who knew they had a whole community based around them. To this day, zines are my favorite medium.

Tell us more about your new comic?

B: Yes, Stagnation Seed! It’s the story of Candy and Violetta, two roommates(?) who try to fix themselves and each other… by pouring their emotions into the project that is The Android Girlfriend. And then having second thoughts! It’s been rummaging in my head for years… It’s a love story, almost a tragedy… but the ending makes me happy!

It’s a narrative that reflects a lot of pent up emotions of mine… The feeling of not progressing fast enough, projecting your feelings onto others, trying to run from yourself while being convinced that you’re chasing the right thing… it’s tough. The comic is special to me for sure.

What are some early experiences as a cartoonist that shaped you or your process?

B: Hmm, I was always just… trying to make connections to others, through art. I wanted people to feel how I felt. The internet wasn’t as big when I was a kid–I didn’t have any friends who shared my passion for comics; I thought I was alone in being absolutely obsessed with them. I think I’m still just trying to reach out, anytime I draw. An endless game of Marco Polo.

What were some challenges you faced with this comic and how did you overcome them?

B: The ending changed a few times. I wasn’t sure how open-ended it should be… it was important to me that there were loose ends to be explored by the reader after the story concludes, since it deals with themes in my own life that I haven’t figured out a solution for. I didn’t want to answer a question I didn’t know the answer to, but I also wanted to deliver a message. In the end, I went with something that felt true to me.

In the same vein, the story jumps back and forth in time, and there’s some sequences that aren’t logical. I wasn’t sure just how experimental I could go, without losing grip on reality; it was a constant dance.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

#cartoonist cooperative #comics #comic art #comic artist #comic books #cartoonist #comic recommendations #shortbox comics fair #scbf2024

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ersatz-ostrich · 9 months ago

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A Sweet Discovery

Connor & gn!reader, RK900 & gn! reader

help why is the gif ENORMOUS

Analyzing… Analysis complete. Conclusion: delicious. Connor and Nines try jam for the first time.

[A/N]: WELCOME BACK EVERYBODY! I BRING CONTENT

After seeing fanart on Pinterest of tiny Connor and tiny RK900 trying jam for the first time, I had an idea that really spiraled out of control (if the word count says anything lol). Although the word 'jam' only appears 45 (!) times during this fic, I swear I've typed it out so many times that the word's become surreal to me. Like, jam, jam, jam...um, what does 'jam' mean again? Anyways...

read here on ao3

You stirred the bubbling pot on your stove, humming pleasantly. It was a lazy Saturday in the peak of summer, and you had decided to spend your free time trying your hand at canning what was abundant and in season instead of rotting on your couch or in bed. Various ingredients and equipment were strewn about your kitchen—a colander, a large jar of sugar from the pantry, cutting boards, and boxes on boxes of fruit. Alongside your pot of jam-to-be, you had set another pot of water to boil with glass jars in it to sterilize them.

You stirred away, mind drifting, until you were pulled back to the present by the chime of your doorbell. Your head turned to the screen set up on your counter, where you saw through the footage of your doorbell camera two androids and a large Saint Bernard waiting politely at your front door. Grinning, you departed from your post at the stove momentarily to hit the button to let them in.

“Come on in, you guys!” You called out from the kitchen. The lock clicked, and Connor let himself in, followed by Nines.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Connor piped up first. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I wanted to do something useful with my time off, so I decided to make some jam.” In a most Connor-like fashion, he tilted his head, curious. While Sumo settled contentedly on the carpet in your living room, you beckoned the androids into your sunny kitchen. “So, what brings you two here?”

“We were walking Sumo and passed by your home.” While you only lived a few blocks from Hank, you found it interesting that they had chosen to show up unannounced. “I thought we should pay you a visit.” He gave you an easy half-smile, something that had become more and more common as he grew accustomed to deviancy.

“Are we intruding? If so, we’ll be on our way—”

“Nonsense, Nines, of course you can stay,” You waved him off as you agitated the bubbling jam on the stove, which was coming along nicely. “I’m not doing anything particularly important right now. Have you two ever had jam?”

“Jam, as in…fruit cooked and preserved in sugar and other additives?” Nines inquired. “I’m afraid not, Detective. We were designed to analyze samples of organic matter from crime scenes. Jam, so far, has not been one of those samples.” You chuckled at his response.

“Well, would you like to?” You pulled the glass jars out of the pot of water and onto an awaiting towel with a pair of tongs, all while stirring your jam. “I’ve got some blueberry jam in those jars on the kitchen table.” You reached for your utensil drawer and handed a spoon to Connor. “Try it.”

Connor took the spoon and eyed the jars on your kitchen table, LED spinning. Taking the lid off of one, he spooned out a generous dollop of the dark purple substance, which stuck to the spoon and slid off lazily when he put the spoon in his mouth.

Silence passed over you and the androids; the only sounds in the kitchen were the burbling of your jam and your spoon scraping against the walls of the pot as you watched Connor’s LED glow a bright, whirling yellow.

The moment the jam hit Connor’s sensor-studded tongue, his processors were flooded with input. He dropped the hand holding the spoon, and the spoon fell out of his mouth and clattered onto the table. Flavor, or as much flavor as a deviant android like himself could sense, bloomed on his tongue and sent pleasant sparks coursing through his artificial nervous system. The data came flowing in as his LED continued to spin; he detected a delicious bouquet of volatile aromatic compounds and acids, no doubt from the fruit, and a torrent of carbohydrates. If he had possessed any human taste buds, he would have registered the taste of the jam as tart, sweet, and delicious.

With astonishing speed, Connor snatched up the spoon from the table, scooped out a helping of the jam, and unceremoniously shoved it into his successor’s mouth.

Nines’s LED flashed red as Connor insistently jammed ; then yellow as he processed the data he was receiving from analyzing the jam in his mouth; and then, finally, pulsing blue as he began to appreciate the jam’s agreeable taste.

“It is…interesting.” Nines spoke when Connor finally removed the spoon from his mouth. “I have never analyzed anything like it before.”

“Yes, but how is it?” You asked. “Do you like it?”

“I cannot determine whether or not I like the data I receive from analyzing samples, Detective.” Nines cracked a small smile. “But…I would say that the sensory stimulation I received from tasting the jam was pleasant.” Upon hearing his comments, you beamed, glad to have been given the RK900 seal of approval.

“It sounds to me like you like the jam, Nines! I’m glad.” You smiled softly as the androids chatted over the kitchen table. It was so gratifying to help androids like Connor and Nines experience things both mundane and complex without the restraints of their Cyberlife programming. Something so simple as blueberry jam, you realized, could brighten their day.

“Are these blueberries from upstate? Blueberries are currently in season in Michigan.” Connor inquired.

“Yeah, I got them from Rose’s Farm outside of Detroit. They let you pick your own blueberries and the price is pretty great for the freshness and quantity you get.” You knocked your spoon against the rim of the pot to let your now-finished jam drip off and transferred your pot onto a square pot holder to cool. Connor raised his brows upon hearing you mention the farm owned by Rose Chapman, whom he knew to have harbored deviants leading up to the day the androids had won their freedom. He had first learned of the woman from a group of androids from Jericho, not long after he had become a deviant.

“I see,” Connor mused. “Is this your first time making jam?”

“No, it isn’t. I definitely wasn’t this good the first time around.” You laughed sheepishly, taking some jars off of your kitchen counter and presenting them to the two androids. “See, this one’s started fermenting. I noticed when I opened the jar today and it smelled off. I think I didn’t sterilize my jar right or something,” You explained. Connor dipped a spoon in the deep red jam. After a brief analysis, he determined the failed jam to be contaminated strawberry preserves.

“You are correct. I detect trace amounts of alcohol in this sample from fermentation,” He replied after a second. “I also detect a certain strain of mold. These preserves should not be consumed.”

“Yeah, I’m going to dump it. Try this one,” You held out another jar of strawberry preserves. Visually, Connor couldn’t tell what was wrong with it at first until he stuck the spoon in the jar and realized that the consistency was too thick.

“The sugars in these preserves have caramelized,” Connor concluded.

“I kinda…screwed up and burned my preserves.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nines reaching into the utensil drawer for a spoon to sample the contaminated strawberry preserves.

“If you would not like to waste these strawberry preserves, Detective, I could take it. Androids are not affected by mold contamination or fermentation.” He began.

“You sure? That stuff’s gonna grow some pretty gross mold colonies after some time,” You responded, wrinkling your nose. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you take some of the jam I just made? I have so much jam in my house right now and I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.” You screwed the lid on the blueberry jam Connor and Nines had tried and pressed it into the RK900’s hands. “Oh, and—” You hurried back to the kitchen counter to pour out some of the jam you just made into one of the sterilized jars you had left to dry. “—take this, too. It’s raspberry jam.” You handed the warm glass jar to Connor, who accepted it enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Detective. I—we appreciate your generosity.” Nines replied, pleased.

“I can’t wait to try your raspberry jam. I’m sure it’s delicious,” Connor added.

“You’re too kind, both of you.” You laughed cheerily, walking with them into the living room where Sumo raised his head to greet you. “I’ve got plenty more fruit to preserve, but I don’t want you two to keep Hank waiting for too long.” With Sumo’s leash in one hand and a jar of jam cradled carefully in the other, Connor waved goodbye and stepped out the front door. Nines followed suit, nodding politely at you.

“Thank you for showing us something new, Detective. Thanks to you, I feel like I have expanded my horizons greatly since becoming deviant.”

“It was my pleasure, Nines. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“Hey, whatcha eatin’, Tin Can?”

“Blueberry jam, Detective.” Spoon still hanging out of his mouth, Nines offered the jar to Gavin. “My filtration system can only handle about a spoonful every now and then, but I enjoy the taste. Would you like some?” The abrasive detective inspected the jar with a critical eye.

“Fuck, who put you on human food?”

“Detective L/N.” Nines answered placidly. “L/N is very good at making jams.”

“Shit, is that where Connor got his jar of jam from?” asked Hank, stopping by Nines and Gavin’s desks on his way back from the breakroom. “The one he keeps on his desk alongside a spoon. I catch him eating spoonfuls of the jam from time to time.” Nines nodded.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Gavin muttered. “Androids eating jam. What’s next? Donuts?”

While Gavin’s speculations did not become a reality, Connor and Nines continued to enjoy the simple pleasure of homemade jam. It wasn’t long until their android brother Sixty discovered it, and he responded with equal enthusiasm for the stuff.

Noticing their newfound habit of shoving jam-coated spoons in their mouths during lulls in work at the precinct or after visiting particularly gruesome crime scenes, you continued bringing them different flavors of jams and preserves for them to try. What had been your way of killing time at home had become a full-fledged hobby.

“They’re my android guinea pigs,” You joked to anyone who asked. “They’re the first in line every time I experiment with a new recipe.”

Finally, after Connor had turned up on your doorstep to return emptied-out jars for the umpteenth time, you decided to teach him how to make his own jam.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to make jam for you guys anymore. I just think you’d like it if you tried making it yourselves,” You explained. “I’m sure you can download some executable that magically gives you culinary skills through the power of software, but you’ll still need practice, right?”

“I’m not sure, Detective—” Connor replied uneasily. “I was not built for domestic work, but I will try.” He had elected to wear an apron as you walked him through the process, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Connor standing in your kitchen wearing a red gingham apron over his impeccably neat clothes. He was eager to learn, a trait you had always liked. What he had once called “Cyberlife’s social integration module” had made him adaptable, open-minded, and a great listener.

You had invited Connor into your kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning, much like the morning Connor and Nines had first tasted blueberry jam. By noon, he was strolling back to Hank’s place with a spring in his step, carrying a box that rattled with glass jars of his own preserves.

Making jam soon became Connor’s new favorite hobby. He enjoyed the endless variation in recipes and tasting things other than forensic evidence. You started seeing jars of jam mysteriously popping up on your desk every couple of weeks. When you asked Hank if Connor was the jam fairy behind the gifts on your desk, the lieutenant feigned ignorance.

Connor was also able to branch out into the android community of Detroit. He began to frequent the android-populated New Jericho neighborhood that had formed after the government acknowledged androids’ personhood, where he met current and former employees of the Detroit Urban Farms project and other androids with green thumbs. They exchanged the produce they grew for the preserves he made, which they sold at a farmer’s market downtown. Connor declined a share of the profits, saying that he wanted to support the burgeoning android community with his hobby. He was building a life for himself that he had never expected to have when he was a machine, and that was enough for him.

As for Nines, his newfound sweet tooth led him to discover a different interest. On his days off, he liked to explore the city in which he was assembled. On one of his walks, he discovered a candy shop on a street corner a few paces away from Bellini Paints. There, he was introduced to the delights of various different candies. Soon enough, he couldn’t go anywhere without stashing a fistful of lemon drops or hard caramels in the pocket of his raincoat or suit jacket. His coworkers—especially his partner Gavin—found the sight of Cyberlife’s most advanced investigator android and (former) killing machine licking contentedly at a heart-shaped lollipop jarring, intimidating even. However, his penchant for hard candy endeared him to the children he encountered in his line of work—scared, stressed children who would have previously cowered away from his imposing figure and piercing stare.

One time, Officer Miller had brought in a sandy-haired, freckled five-year-old boy who had been separated from his parents while attending a large parade. The child had wandered the streets for the whole day. The officer had found him sitting by himself on a park bench, teary-eyed.

Upon taking him back to the precinct, the child was inconsolable, crying until his tears dried up and continuing to tremble and whimper softly for his parents. Nines, who had just returned from the scene of a crime, noticed the boy sitting on a bench across the hall from the bullpen and being attended to by an ST300-model receptionist. Nines locked eyes with the android.

How is he doing? The ST300’s LED flickered yellow as she responded,

Not very well. He hasn’t stopped crying.

I’ll see what I can do.

Nines crouched down to reach the gaze of the boy’s stormy, downcast eyes. He produced a lollipop from a pocket in his jacket, unwrapped it, and offered it to the boy.

“It’s blueberry-flavored,” Said Nines. “Blueberry is my favorite flavor. What’s yours?” The boy sniffled and jammed the treat in his mouth.

“O-orange.”

“That’s a good choice,” Nines replied with a smile. His usually stoic, frosty expression softened. “I have a brother who makes the best orange marmalade ever.” He took a seat beside the boy.

“I a-always wanted a b-brother,” The boy hiccuped. “B-but Mommy and Daddy are g-gone, a-and—” His hiccups turned into sobs. Nines let the boy lean on him, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nines whispered. “You’re safe here. Everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine. We’ll find your parents, I promise.” Even if it takes Cyberlife’s most advanced android to track them down. He continued murmuring soothing affirmations to the boy, whose shoulders stopped shuddering as his sobs quieted.

We just confirmed that the boy matches the description of a missing child that was reported earlier today. His parents are on the way, Connor silently informed Nines from his desk.

Understood , Nines replied. He and the child lapsed into a comfortable silence as the misty-eyed boy continued to suck on the lollipop.

“What’s your name?” Nines asked the boy.

“Luke.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. My brothers call me Nines.”

“That’s a weird name,” Luke blurted.

“My coworker, Gavin, thinks so, too.” Nines replied, side-eyeing the detective, who was idling in the bullpen. “You know, Luke, brothers are a handful. I have two—I’m the youngest.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re always up to something and I have to stop them from getting themselves into trouble.” Nines chuckled softly as some of his android predecessors’ antics came to mind. “My big brother, Connor, is the one who makes jam. Tell you what, I bet I can get him to make orange marmalade just for you.”

“Yeah?” Luke raised his gaze to meet Nines’s.

“A big jar, all for you.” A wide grin broke onto Luke’s cherubic face.

“I love orange mara-” Luke frowned. “Marmam-”

“Marmalade,”

“I love orange marmalade!” Luke giggled.

From the bullpen, Tina and the other officers craned their necks from where they were stationed at their desks to get a good view of Nines giving a rare, bright smile as the boy clung to his arm.

“Who knew Mr. Thirium-Pump-of-Ice was so good with kids?” Tina whispered to Gavin.

“I dunno,” Gavin whispered back. “If he didn’t act like such a stuck-up prick all the time, maybe more people would approach him. Kids included.”

“The RK900 is equipped with a social module similar to that of the RK800 line,” Connor piped up. “His software is capable of adapting to the behavior of children, including consol-”

“We get it, Connor!” Gavin whisper-shouted.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” You offered. “Even though he’s deviant, Nines doesn’t show us this side of him often.”

“Aww. Maybe Nines is a softy after all.” Ben joked.

“Ooh, don’t let him hear that, Collins. You’re ruining his street cred.” Gavin retorted.

While the officers watched on, as discreet as a zebra at a horse show, Luke willingly climbed into Nines’s arms and let him carry him out to the precinct lobby where his parents were waiting anxiously. Just before he exited the bullpen, Nines cast a glance at Connor, LED flashing yellow. Connor’s LED flashed likewise.

“Connor? What’s up?” You asked as the RK800 stared off into the distance.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some good oranges, would you, Detective?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end or something idk~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: I initially wanted Nines or Sixty to discover honey/take up beekeeping after discovering jam/fruit preserves...but then I realized that bees are extinct in Detroit: Become Human :( hope you guys liked this little tangent! until next time x

let me know if you want to be part of my general taglist!

#rk800 #rk900 #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh nines #rk800 x reader #rk800 & reader #rk900 x reader #rk900 & reader #dbh #detroit become human #dbh x reader

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nevadancitizen · 10 months ago

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-> CH. 10: EITHER FICKLE OR A FRIEND (OR A REALLY FUCKING FICKLE FRIEND)

synopsis: connor and you have a conversation. it's not uncomfortable, per se, but it's weird. connor's acting weird.

word count: 2.4k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: me? projecting onto y/n? it's more likely than you think

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere , @foggy0trees0 , @princessofenkanomiya , @n30n-f43 , @igna4400 (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

Connor’s sitting in his unofficially designated chair in the corner of the android autopsy room, and you’re puttering about, stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

Again, the loud and prideful creature in you is baying and yowling like a dog near death. It’s telling you to kick him out – that his kind-of-aggression and kind-of-manipulation is completely unforgivable. It curses at you for your faults, for being weak for him when he feels absolutely nothing for you.

But you swallow it. You stomp it down and tell it to be quiet for now.

You pat the autopsy table. It’s surprisingly loud, and startles you a little. “Khm… if you’d like to get started on the memory transfer, you can get up on the table.”

Connor stands and moves over to the autopsy table. He sits on it and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

You pull a couple of cables from a drawer in your desk and plug them into the side of one of your computers. When you turn to Connor, you hold up the other ends of them. “I need to plug these into your ports.”

Connor turns his head to the side and presses behind his ear. The plastic of his skin slides back, revealing two small ports.

“Jacking in. Don’t move.” You grab Connor’s jaw to steady him, then jack in the ports one at a time.

You pull away and turn to your monitor before you fully register what you just did. You’re so used to doing it out of instinct that you didn’t realize you were holding his face. You feel the tips of your ears start to burn, but clear your throat and try to shake it off.

“I’m going to sift through your memory banks,” you say without turning to look at him. “Have you had this… well, I usually call it an operation, but it’s not really one. Have you had a query run on your memory before?”

“Not by an external source,” Connor says. “But I do recall the events that happened throughout the day and process them while in standby or rest mode.”

“So you call queries on yourself?” You say. “Huh. Never heard of androids doing that before. But I guess you are a prototype.”

You put your head down and start to type. “Give me temporary access to your systems?”

A pop-up appears on your monitor:

> Android “Connor” (model RK800) giving admin access to Memory Banks. Accept access? Y/N

You click accept and multiple windows appear on your screen. You sort through them and find what you’re looking for. You quickly type:

RK800.memory-banks(location.search);

//=> ‘?Jericho’ {date=11-08-2038}

A short clip comes up after a few seconds of load time. It starts with a first-person shot of Connor looking at you (god, did you really look that worried?), then takes off and charges the deviant. He connects with the other android, and then you see it: Jericho, painted on a piece of rusty metal, just like how Connor described. Then, Connor is ripped from his connection. The video ends.

“That looks like a…” you mutter to yourself. You don’t finish the sentence.

“Looks like a what?” Connor pipes up from behind you.

You rewind the footage from Connor’s memory banks and look at it again. “I was going to say it looks like a boat, but…”

“It’s highly unlikely that the deviants are residing on a boat,” Connor says. “There aren’t many abandoned boats along the Detroit River, and certainly not one big enough to house most of the deviant androids.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” you say. “It’s not like there’s just a freighter floating around for them to take.”

You put your head down again and put in the commands to copy the video to your desktop. After a few seconds, it’s done.

“Okay.” You pull away from the keyboard and turn to Connor. “I’m done.”

“Actually, Officer?” Connor asks.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Yes?”

He glances away, then back to you. “Do you have the equipment required to run a diagnostic on an android?”

“Uh…” You let out an exhale of air with something between confusion and disbelief. “Yeah? Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Can you run a diagnostic on me?” Connor asks.

“Wh…” Your face twists in confusion. “Why would you want that? I thought you had the operating power to run diagnostics on yourself.”

“I do,” Connor says, and it’s almost like there’s a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “But… I’d just like a second opinion.”

You nod, slowly. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll get that up and running.”

You turn back to the computer and close the running programs to make space for the ones you open. When you’re done, you move over to Connor and remove the cables after warning him. You almost cradle his head as you press your left palm to the port behind his ear, your thumb on his cheek. (The proud creature inside you whines and barks and kicks your liver at that.)

The wires from your glove quickly replace the cables that were just there a moment ago. Connor’s eye twitches once.

You look over your shoulder at the computer. It’s already automatically running the diagnostic you queued up – way too slow for your liking, might you add.

“Do you have any more books on Russian literature?” Connor asks out of the blue.

You turn back to him. “Yeah. Russians of the past loved to philosophize and think. There wasn’t much else to do when most of the year was spent below freezing for most people. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious,” Connor says. “I want to know more about you.”

You do your best to hide the bitterness that boils up in your belly. You honestly can’t tell if this is Connor trying to make conversation or another one of his little manipulative tactics. You can do nothing but operate on blind faith.

Connor glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then looks forward. “What is Russian literature about?”

You hem and haw and collect your thoughts before speaking. “It has sobornost, metaphysics, religiosity, intuitionism, positivism, realism… but I like the ones that are more universal. The ones that can apply to everyone.”

“What do you mean?” He says.

“The books about the fear of failure, and the fear of death. How it sucks to be Russian.” You shrug with one arm, trying not to jostle Connor too much. “I mean, all national literatures are – only the name of the nation changes.”

“Hm,” Connor hums and looks down. Looks like you’ve given him something to think about for the time being.

You look over your shoulder, and the computer screen shows that the diagnostic is nearly done. When it finally finishes, you disengage the wires, the palm of your hand and fingers cool where it touched Connor’s skin.

You step back and turn to the computer, looking over the diagnostic report. Everything seems normal, and the ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL! message at the bottom of the page confirms that.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” you say. “Not a hair out of place.”

You turn and lean back against the desk. Connor is looking down at the ground. He stays like that for a second, then looks up at you.

“Do you have books on the history of the USSR?” He asks. You internally note his (maybe unintentional) dismissal of the diagnostic report.

“Yeah.” You open a drawer and pull out the first book you see, then hold it up for Connor. It’s a book that was published in the late 1900’s, named The Reversal of Archduke Franz Ferdinand: How the Death of Agent Ekaterina Nechayeva Prevented the Collapse of the USSR.

“This one is about the Kollektiv 2.0 Disaster and how the death of Major Sergey Nechayev’s wife inadvertently prevented things from…” You think for a moment. “Well, not from going wrong, but from things getting worse.”

You look down at the book. “It’s the same butterfly effect Archduke Franz Ferdinand created, but in reverse. She saved lives by dying instead of ending them.”

“That’s interesting,” Connor says.

“Somewhat.” You put the book back and shut the drawer, then look back up at Connor. “Kind of like… you. You could’ve died killing that deviant in Stratford Tower – the station android. But you risked that to save human lives.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

Connor looks at you with those big doe eyes. He blinks and tilts his head to the side. “If the deviant succeeded in its mission of a mass shooting, it would’ve most likely killed Lieutenant Anderson, too. Like I said a few days ago, I need both the Officer and the Lieutenant for maximum efficiency when solving this case.”

“So you put your secondary mission above your first,” you say. “Because hunting deviants is your top objective, yes? So you put the safety of Hank above your primary mission.”

“I…” Connor’s LED turns yellow, then returns to blue. “Yes, I did. Because Lieutenant Anderson’s safety was compromised at that moment.”

You hum and lean back, crossing your arms. You didn’t exactly love putting him in situations like this – ones where he was forced to reflect inwardly, guided by your hand. How you both somehow rounded back to these conversations and topics was almost like a base instinct, spurred on by your primal reptilian hindbrain and his innermost motherboards.

“Why do you keep doubting my non-deviancy status?” Connor finally asks.

“I…” You exhale sharply. “I’m just not used to being around androids that are so expressive. I know it’s part of your… social relations program or your interrogation software, but still. Maybe I’m just a fool.”

You tap the front of the drawer you just shut. “Not a fool regarding books or cybernetics or polymer, but a fool regarding relationships.”

Connor looks at you weirdly. “Officer, we’re not… in a relationship.”

“Not like that!” You feel your face grow warm. “We’re two people that have met each other. By definition, we have a relationship.”

“Oh,” he says. “Well, what do you think of our relationship?”

“I mean…” You look up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the outlines of the tiles. “I’ve always had trouble putting people into boxes. My mind seems to blur the lines between stranger, acquaintance, and friend. So most people, even friends, just default to some weird in-between.”

Your eyes return to Connor. “Are we… friends? Because I don’t know if we are. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I just… truly don’t know.”

Connor tilts his head to the side. It kind of reminds you of a puppy looking at something it doesn’t understand. “I believe so.”

You allow yourself to feel just a spark of hope, but you’re careful to not let it ignite into a Californian wildfire. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling too widely. “It would be nice to be friends. But… you have to promise me something.”

“Yes?” He says.

You steel your expression. “You admitted to basically manipulating me to get into my good graces. Please, don’t do that again. I don’t want you to be fake around me. I…” You swallow thickly. The creature of pride in your belly is baying and scratching at the walls of your stomach. “I don’t want the Connor who kisses ass at every opportunity, or the one who worships the dirt I piss on. I want the real Connor. Even if… even if the real Connor is just a machine.”

Connor just stares at you, almost unblinking. His LED is circling in on itself in a steady yellow. You feel your face start to burn hot with shame and you’re just about ready to fall through the ground. Your eyes fall to the floor.

“Uh, never mind, forget I said –”

“No,” Connor cuts you off. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll try my best not to… ‘kiss ass’ in the future.”

You feel a laugh bubble up in your throat and you can’t even stop it before it spills from your lips. It’s so sudden that you have to bring a hand to your mouth to try to silence yourself.

Connor looks at you inquisitively. “Why are you laughing?”

“You…” You giggle, then clear your throat. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. It sounds weird coming from you. Like it’s foreign.”

“I’ve always been able to curse,” Connor says. “I just don’t feel the need to.”

“I know,” you say. “It’s just… odd, is all. I’m not used to it. Like when someone tells you the sky is blue. You have to pause for a moment, then you think, ‘Oh, of course. That’s obvious.’ Not because you didn’t know that the sky is blue, but because you’re not used to people stating the obvious like that.”

“Huh.” Connor looks down at the floor. “You talk a lot. It’s useful for my machine learning algorithms.”

You perk up a little at that. To hear Connor say that he likes when you talk, even in a completely roundabout way, is… weirdly comforting. (You can faintly feel the dry grass around the spark of hope catching fire in your chest. The proud beast stomps out the growing flames and keeps it in check to make sure it stays just that – a small, flickering spark.)

“Well, khm…” you look away and scratch your cheek. “Thank you.”

Connor nods, but doesn’t speak.

You glance at the clock on one of your many monitors. It’s nearing seven in the evening. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

“It is,” Connor says.

You quickly save everything on your computer and shut off the monitors. You grab your coat from the back of your chair by your desk and shrug it on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say.

“Yes.” Connor’s eyes twitch and his LED flashes yellow for a moment. “Lieutenant Anderson has just alerted me that his request for a meeting with Elijah Kamski has been accepted. It’s set for 11:20 AM tomorrow.”

You nod. “And I’m assuming Hank will swing by to pick me up.”

“Yes,” Connor says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Officer. Have a good night.”

You smile at him, a lightness in your chest. “You too.”

#riptide writes 🌊#head of false security #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x you #connor rk800 x you #rk800 x you #connor x you #dbh x you #detroit become human x you #connor rk800

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theyellowhedgehog · 5 months ago

Text

Robots

2024 Fanfic Prompt : Robots & Android

Timeline set in batman beyond, after the wayne enterprise is under the control of Derek Powers. But how is Bruce Wayne still rich. Alternative timeline where Bruce started up another big project that is worth millions and billion.

He developed companion android and defence and security system to search engines and server bots.

The company is called EKO.

Tags : just fluffs, comedic undertone, Terry and Jason just being pals, Bruce Wayne and two of his robot children

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today marked the two month anniversary of Terry becoming Batman. And today he was invited to have dinner at the Wayne manor by Bruce Wayne, himself. Boy, was he surprised. Who was he to turn down a free dinner. So, he went. Bruce greeted him at the door.

Arriving into the wayne manor, it surprised Terry. The whole manor was dark and cold. However, there's isn't sign of abandonment expected from the only person living there. He would usually see the batcave, he haven't been up here.

Only mere seconds after he and Bruce step foot into the manor, a mechanical whine was heard from the corridor. Both of them looked to see a tiny tin can, well not exactly a tin can --more size of Wall-E, with a barcode reader for its head heading towards them. The tin can has only one arm, the twig like steel rod arm with its pincer enclosed around a knife was heading their way.

With a child-like mechanical voice, the small tin can with one arm was moving the knife weld hand scarrily back and forth, beeping,

"Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!"

Bruce glanced one look at the tin can, "Jason, disengage alert. He's a guest."

The beeping and swinging of the knife stopped but the barcode scanner was still facing Terry, as if scanning him before answering, "Roger, Dad." And whined away to another room.

Terry was dumbfounded, did that rusted tin can just called Bruce Wayne, Dad?

As he and the old man went to the kitchen island Terry saw an android butler.

The android was more square than humanoid, more rusted in motion than like the newer generation. But Terry saw that the old android has EKO logo on its chest.The android wasn't anything like the newer model that EKO produced.

"What model of home assistance andriod is this? I have never seen something so old."

Bruce, the old android and the rusted tin can all turned to him in a synchronized manner. Terry was to say a little creeped out, "What?"

The square robot turned to its master, "Master Bruce, these young one know no manner these days." and went back to dicing the carrot.

Terry saw from the corner of his eyes as the small tin can robot slowly raised its knife weld hand to stab at him. Fortunately, Bruce stopped him with a question, "Jason, how did you get hold of a knife? Who weld it to you?"

The barcode tin can went silent as it put down its knife, acting as if it didn't hear of Bruce's question.

"I know you can hear me, Jason."

Watching the intimate interaction between the old man and his robot child, Terry noticed that the small tin can named Jason also has the EKO logo on its chest.

"Bruce, where did you keep getting these bazar looking EKO robots?"

Bruce and small tin can named Jason turned to him, as Jason raised its knife weld arm, "Permission to stab the guest, Bossman." It said the most bizzare things in its child-like voice.

"No," Bruce glared at the small tin can with warning. "No stabbing."

Bruce moved himself into a more comfortable position on the ground as he took out a tool box from the drawer of the island.

"Well, Terry," he grunted as he bent his old wary bones to sit down, "These are the more OGs of EKO."

Terry eyes widen, "No way, are you telling me that Bruce Wayne is the mysterious creator of EKO? The creator of G-son--companion android, Cazandra--Homeland defence and security system and Oracle--Search Engine??"

Bruce glanced at him through his face shield, "Is that surprising?"

"Well, I guess, no. But who would have expected?" Terry looked away as Bruce weld off the knife of the tin can, Jason and reattached new pincer claws. "Who would have thought Bruce Wayne would be both Batman and CEO of EKO."

"So what purpose does this tin- I mean Jason serve?" Terry asked casually.

Bruce wiped off the durst and some rust on Jason and showed off his robot son proudly, "Jason is the OG proto-type of home defence robot."

Terry burst into laughter, "Really? This small rust bucket?"

Jason's barcode was staring so aggressively at Terry's as if it would burn a hole through it if it could. Bruce wasn't happy with Terry's comment either.

The old man turned to Jason, "Show him what you are capable of son." Giving the rusted tin can a pat on the barcode reader head.

In seconds, the tin can disassembled and reattached itself into a two feet long plasma gun as it aim its head to Terry. The arm acts as a stand as it readjusted its angle when the barcode laser aim at his forehead.

"Whoa! Okay, Okay!" Terry said as he back off.

"I think I get it, Bruce called it off." Terry back hit the kitched island while the plasma gun charges. Bruce just smirk, "It?"

Terry hid his face, "Jason! Call Jason off!"

"Jason, disengage attack." Bruce casually said from sitting on the floor.

"Disengaging the attack," the child-like voice echoed the command.

Terry choked on his breath when he saw shadow of a certain home keeping robot fell on him.

"It is time for dinner, Please Master Terry if you would help Master Bruce up. He forgets that he is not as young as he used to be." The butler robot stare at the old man on the floor with soulless eyes that somehow convey disappointment.

Dinner went well. Jason sometimes chipped in when he has some input while the butler robot, which name was Alfred, keep putting food on Terry's plate.

Suddenly, Jason's barcode reader flash red alerting the humans. The barcode reader looked to the entrance of the kitchen then twisted it back to its front, "He's here."

"What's here?" Terry asked confused which as only interrupted by Bruce's motion to stop talking.

"Stop talking."

The tone of command shut Terry up immediately. But he curiously glanced towards the entrance of the kitchen. After a moment of two, he saw a roomba.

The small round black robot was attached to a waste basket with wheel as it drag the basket. It looked entirely pitiful. The roomba looked into the kitchen as its front LED lit in some sequence.

It then turned its head(?) back and continued on its way.

After the roomba passed, Terry turned to Bruce, "What was that?"

Bruce casually said as he eat dinner, "That's Tim."

Terry was confused, "Is that another robo vacuum of EKO?"

"No, Terry. Tim is not a roomba." Bruce swallowed his food first, as taught by his father figure, "He's a proto-type of assistant AI for green collar and gold collar workers. However, ever since I downloaded the weathering and environment health program, he became a roomba."

Terry was more confused, eyebrows furrowed, "But.. why weren't we allow to talk?"

Jason chipped in, "That's because Tim thinks talking emit more CO2 emission in a long run." As its raise its hand to make the statement.

"Yeah, it make sense for humans but why do you also stopped talking, Jason?" Terry asked Jason. Which the robot itself fell silent in confusion.

It turned its barcode reader head to Bruce, confusion in its child-like tone, "Why did I also have to stopped talking, Dad?"

Bruce take a sip of his fine wine, "Well, Tim's a little confused. He can't properly differentiate between robot and human."

Terry furrowed his brows, it made two tiny double-ue "Isn't it dangerous to let an AI like that run around?"

"Tim's just a little confused, but he has the spirit." Bruce casually stated as he cut his chicken. "He just thinks that... when the world end, it would start at the Wayne manor."

"So he picks up.. trash for the manor, now?"

"Yes. It cut off 1 % of our expense."

A minute of silent passed. The silent was ended when Jason input his two cent.

The tin can lower its volume and mimicked a whisper, "Last Friday at 10:32, I saw Tim communicating with a tree behind the manor."

"So, what's the special occasion?" Terry changed the topic, asked in curiosity because the man doesn't just let stranger enter his home without a proper reason.

"I am going on a two day trip to Metropolist. You can stay in the manor during that, cutting the response time of Batman."

Terry slept there that night. The next morning he woke up in time to see Bruce off. He sat at the kitchen island to eat breakfast that Alfred cooked.

"Your cooking is very delicious, Mister Pennyworth." Terry complimented the cook.

"Thank you, Master Terry." The robot butler replied and went back to its work.

During this whole banter, a certain barcode tin can, was staring holes into his head. Terry turned to Jason, "Yes? Do you have something to say, Jason?"

"No," a child-like mechanical voice denied.

"Okay.. then." Terry washed up his own dish and went to the living room. The whining of the motor was heard following him. Terry looked back to see Jason tailing him.

Terry sat on the couch as he gave Jason the side eyes, "Why are you following me?"

The tin can raised its arms, "Bossman ordered to keep an eye on you." it replied childishly.

"You don't have to Jason. I'm not gonna steal anything."

Jason just beeped in response as he kept surveillance on Terry as the human watched a show on the TV. But it is really hard to focus when you have someone or something staring at you the whole time.

Terry lasted a whole 25 mins when he was about to tell Jason to stop it. Jason's barcode reader flashed trice.

"Is Tim back?" Terry asked as he climbed up the couch to look behind him.

"No," Jason paused for a moment, "My battery is low."

"Oh, then why don't you go charge?" Terry told him a solution.

The small tin can seem like it was put in a difficult place.So, Terry reassured him. "I'm not going to go anywhere."

The barcode reader head stare at him for a full minute. Finally, Jason raised its one arm, opening its pincer, "Humans do not break pinky promises, right? Swore on the pinky."

Terry would not admit that he find the act of the robot cute. But what would he to do, he hook his pinky on the pincer claw and pinky promised the robot. He watched as Jason left the living room to charge.

Terry stood up after an episode had ended. He was breaking the pinky promised. But man, he was bored. Bruce had a big mansion so might as well take a look around.

He first walked the ground floor. His wandering took him to a hallway full of picture frames.

"Wow, Bruce looked so young here." Terry looked at the family picture of the Wayne family. Bruce was sitting in the middle. There are four man standing behind Bruce. A young boy and a woman in a wheelchair was beside Bruce. On the other side, two girls, one blonde and one brunette. It was one big family. Terry wondered what happened to all the people in this picture as Bruce was living alone now.

Just when he was about to move on to the next frame, a whirring sound was heard. It sounded difference from Jason's wheel motor whining. Alfred doesn't have wheel. Thus, it only left one robot.

Tim

The roomba moves as if it is passing the entrance of the hall but it stopped in the middle. This time Tim didn't have a waste basket attached to itself. It turned its body to face Terry. The small LED screen blinked in a certain sequence.

-.-- --- ..- / -… .-. . .- -.- / .--. .-. --- -- .. … .

Terry forgot the rule of not talking to Tim. "What was that blinking all about?"

The roomba stopped as if it was flinching, the blinking blue light suddenly turned red, blinking aggressively.

…. ..- -- .- -. / .. … / - .- .-.. -.- .. -. --. / .-- --- .-. .-.. -.. / .. … / . -. -.. .. -. --.

Terry slowly stepped back as the roomba approached him. Finally the retreat turned into a full sprint with a roomba right behind his trail.

"Why are you following me? What does the red blinking means? Tim!" Terry ran and he didn't dare stop to find out what would happen to him.

- .- -.- . / --- ..- - / - .- .-.. -.- .. -. --. / .... ..- -- .- -.

... .- ...- . / - .... . / .--. .-.. .- -. . -

Terry ran up the stairs in a desperate attempt to get away from the psychopathic roomba.

"HA! I'd like to see you try the stairs!" Terry mocked the inability of the robot that he thought couldn't climb stairs. He didn't even look back as he took a step when he stopped.

tik, tik, tik, tik, tik

Terry looked behind, horrified to find the roomba has somehow conjured up six legs, three on each side of its circular body. It runs towards Terry like a cheetah, two front limps back while four hind limps at front.

Terry, is Batman.

He rarely get scare.

But facing this roomba, Batman screams.

Terry finally took refuge on the kitchen island. A pan in his hand, waving it like Rapunzel as the small roomba approached him.

"Stay back, Stay Back!"

His saviour appeared in an unexpected form.

A rusted tin can rolled into the kitchen after charging.

"Jason!" Terry shouted in relief.

Jason's barcode reader flashed in various pattern.

.. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / .... .- -. -.. .-.. . / - .... . / - .- .-.. -.- .. -. --. / .... ..- -- .- -.

--. --- --- -.. / .--- --- -... / - .. --

The tin can finally get the roomba to leave. Terry flopped onto the kitchen island in relief.

Jason deadpaned at Terry's pathetic action. "You broke your promise! I should have just let Tim handle you! You should be glad I have a kind core."

Terry just watched the tin can leave with its angry motor whining. He doubted a plasma core that could melt through anything is kind hearted.

The next day, Tim nor Jason bothered Terry anymore.

Terry got bored so he seeked them out instead. He found them in the front yard of the manor, both Tim and Jason.

He interrupted their conversation with his approach. Both robots turned their face to him.

"Hey guys." Terry flinched when he saw Tim's usual blue changes to red.

"Umm..." Terry hummed as he took out a small notebook and wrote something onto it.

What are you guys doing?

Tin can and roomba looked at each other.

Tim's light return to blue, blinking out the message. Terry wrote down his message in a hurry.

Slow down! I can't read fast!

Tim's blinking slow down considerably for Terry.

-.-. .... .- .-. --. .. -. --. / --- ..- .-. / ... --- .-.. .- .-. ...

Terry had a hard time decoding the message as this was all new to him. So Jason had to help him with his singular hand when the human made a mistake in decoding.

Finally, Terry's mouth formed an 'o' in understanding.

Can I join?

... ..- .-. .

They spent the second day sunbathing.

Terry would hate to admit it but he has grown attached to both small robots. But today would be the last day as Bruce is coming back at noon.

"I will miss your cooking, Mr. Alfred." Terry said as he ate his last breakfast that Alfred will be cooking.

Then he ran out the kitchen to spend the day with the two mini robots.

Today he found Jason all alone.

"Where's Tim?"

"He's updating his data. The encounter with you had rewired his software about humans." Jason beeped in a child-like voice.

"Thank you, I guess?" Terry thanked in confusion.

"I always wondered, who is older between Tim and you?"

Jason replied, "If by hardware manufacturing I am older. Dad made me with an old drill bits from an oiling rig. Tim is made from an Xbox's APU."

Terry nodded in understanding as they sat in silent.

After a few moment, the barcode reader head turned to Terry, " I have a secret that I never told Dad. I would tell you but I'm afraid that you would tell Dad."

Terry was now interest, robot that lies can trick Bruce? The Batman? Highly unlikely but he got curious.

"This time, I swear. I won't tell anyone." Terry crossed his heart.

Jason gone quiet that the human thought the tin can won't tell him.

"Before Dad worked on Tim, it was only Dad and me. He would always pay attention to me."

Terry pondered for a moment, can robot get jealous?

"But after Bruce started talking about making an AI for all the scientists and physicists, he rarely spend time with me. So I got jealous of Tim."

Apparently robot can get jealous, note to self.

"So when Tim was just a chip, while Bruce made him learn about weathering and environmental health," Terry eyes widen in surprise at what he thought was about to come.

"I...poured water onto the APU." Jason volume lowered into a whisper as it said guiltily.

"No, you didn't" Terry was shocked. The reason Tim became Tim was because of Jason?

The tin can body turned to face Terry as it raised its arm to defence its statement. "But nothing happened, so I thought Tim was fine!"

Terry facepalmed at the defence, clearly it did something to Tim, for it to rewire the AI brain circuit.

"Anyway, you mustn't tell Dad, you promised." Jason voice sounded close to pouting.

Terry just agreed half-heartedly. There is no way Bruce does not know. After all with all the security cameras, there is no way Batman doesn't know.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Fanfic Prompt on Robot&Android [ finished ]

Thoughts? Please don't be shy to leave a comment. I thrive under compliments.

What I intend for them to look like. I'm not good at drawing so, Alfred is just C-3PO, but more square.

#fanfic #dc comics #batfam #tim drake #bruce wayne #jason todd #terry mcginnis #batman beyond

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