#basically parts of an android I use to whump them

[pigeonwhumps]

The Little Android

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

My entry for the Once Upon a Blade anthology by @thewhumpyprintingpress (which is really good btw, you should buy it if you can) which I've been meaning to post for months.

An android whump retelling of The Little Matchgirl by Hans Christian Anderson.

1.2k

CWs: android whump, torture, dehumanisation, slavery, denial of basic needs, threats of death, implied major character death

The android sits down against the wall of a crowded metal walkway, box of batteries in its hand. One arm is made up of loose wires and artificial nerve endings left when the attachment was ripped from its socket, and as they brush against the wall they send a jolt of pain through its systems, almost causing it to drop the box. If only its owner had deactivated its pain circuits after the experiment was completed, but he thought they would be useful to control it. And as a synthetic life form, it does not have the right to deactivate them itself.

It needs to sell these batteries. Oh, they look so tempting, they could power it for the day it’s sure, it would have constant heating and a properly working voice and its power wouldn’t flicker out so often. But it’ll get credits if it sells them, and it’s therefore less likely to end up on the scrap heap.

It tries for eight point seven hours, but it doesn’t make a single credit. Passers-by barely give it a second glance. If it’s lucky. Some step around it with a wide berth, giving it dirty looks and whispering behind their hands (sometimes not even whispering, it doesn’t matter, it’s not a human after all). A few teenagers make a game of tugging at its exposed nerve endings to see who can make it scream the loudest, and nobody stops them, they just look annoyed at the noise. It’s moved on by security more than once.

Finally the lights in the station switch to night mode, dimming and turning slightly orange, reducing the blue light. Usually the android would adjust its vision to compensate so it could keep working with ease but that function no longer works.

The place it was last moved along to, where it is now, gets almost no night traffic. There’re no shops or clubs or living hubs, there’s no reason to come here unless you’re maintenance staff, who can’t, or won’t, buy from it anyway. There’s no point staying.

Except if it goes back to the shop with no credits again, it will be deemed useless and stripped for parts. Maybe even without its pain circuits being deactivated first.

Its power flickers out for a few seconds. When it restarts, the android is on the floor. It doesn’t know how long it was out, which is unnerving but common recently.

Maybe just a little boost of battery power. Just to keep it going.

It chooses a battery, unwraps it with stiff, creaky fingers, and plugs it into a port on its side.

The power zaps around its body and it feels a simulation of warmth for the first time in so long. It’s almost comfortable.

In the distance, it sees its makers’ workshop. They’re laughing and joking together as they start up the charger, preparing to test parts that the android knows are custom-made. It used to help with the more dangerous parts of the job, before they ran out of money and were forced to sell it.

It feels so warm and cosy, and as the light envelopes it, it opens its mouth to speak.

The light disappears. The warmth disappears. The android tries to hang on but it must have had a power surge in its decision-making module.

It feels even colder now. Any warmth is gone, any semblance of care from someone else. What does it have in its life, really? No-one does anything except order it around and stimulate its pain circuits. Nobody even interferes when the pain is malicious. Not anymore.

It takes out another battery. If it’s going to be scrapped anyway it might as well make it worth it.

As soon as it’s plugged in, the station disappears. It’s inside a charging station, one of the ones for VIPs and their androids. It had a job cleaning these, once. Mobile charging packs, as much premium oil as the android can drink, oiled joints, comfortable places to stand or sit… it has dreamed about them, sometimes. It was allowed to drink the last dregs of oil and it really was premium.

This one is busy with humans in fancy clothes and the latest models, so much more advanced than itself. No-one is paying attention to the android, and it walks through the central aisle, approaching a serving station. It reaches out a hand for an oil can, wires jittering in anticipation at the taste, the feel of its body afterwards—

The illusion fades.

The android is left cold and alone on the floor of the space station. There’s not much use for softness for androids but oh, how it wishes. It’s been so long since it had oil, only getting just enough lubrication to stop it from rusting entirely. It doesn’t deserve anything more until it starts to be useful. But it won’t be, and it just feels empty.

It’s startled out of its reverie by a beep beep beep of warning. Its power is depleting even faster than normal. If it doesn’t get to a charging point soon it’ll power down for good.

Surprisingly, the android finds itself not caring overly much anymore. What does it have to go back to, after all?

The android plugs in another battery.

It’s on a starship deck in night mode. The observation deck. It’s always wished to be stationed on one of these. It’s charging against a wall, sitting down, and it can see the stars.

They’re bright spots against the darkness, mostly, but in the distance it can see nebulas, colourful clouds of dust and stars. That’s when it realises its vision is fixed. It can see properly, for the first time is years. Who bothered to fix that?

Then reality hits it. Nobody did. The android here, the one with the fixed vision and someone who cares and such a good posting, it doesn’t exist. This is a dream. An illusion. Something it’ll never get.

It touches its reflection in the glass, feeling a pang from somewhere inside that shouldn’t exist. It’s been fixed, like a patchwork, different colours and textures of paintwork, but it’s more than it will ever really have, more than it deserves. Engine oil leaks slightly from the edges of its vision sensors. Good quality oil too. It really is getting the best on this dreamship.

It can feel itself fading. Its consciousness is fading. And it’s nowhere near a power socket really, so it’ll deactivate permanently this time.

But it doesn’t have anything to lose. There’s no-one who cares, no-one who won’t take it apart for scrap as soon as it returns with no credits and barely any batteries. No-one will mourn it if it stays here. Someone will take the batteries and someone will take its parts and they’ll sell both but they won’t care. What’s the point?

The android sinks back down, leaning back against its comfortable charging wall. It closes its eyes for the last time to an exploding supernova.

The science doesn’t really make sense. But it’s far too tired to care.

[anonymous-idfk]

BODY PARTS / BIOCOMPONENTS IN AN ANDROID I USE FOR WHUMP PURPOSES

This isn’t even fully complete because even I don’t really know what I think about them or HC but these are basically what I think of when whumping an android. It’s probably Connor let’s be serious here.

These are mainly based on the character Connor from DBH but I’m sure most of these would work on a lot androids from other games/movies/books/shows etc

If you’re a Canon-only person, an engineer, or some kind of expert and think something wouldn’t work pls don’t come @ me, I literally just bullshit my way through everything, I just wanna whump and hug the characters lmfao idc about strict canon

Some of these are canon, most are definitely not lmao

Okay so this isn’t completed, and may seem very all over the place but that’s because it was just quickly brainstormed and I dont have the mental capacity to sort it all out, ALSO they change to suit idea to idea so eh

So imma split it into 4 catagories, if they cannot eat, if they can eat, their heads and other.

TORSO COMPONENTS IF THEY CANNOT EAT

Thirium Pump – Heart (Pumps the Thirium around the body)

Thirium Pump Regulator – Pacemaker (Regulates the beat of the pump)

Ventilation Biocomponents – Lungs (Ventilates the body, helps it cool down manually)

Thermoregulator/Temperature Regulator – Hypothalamus (Regulates the body temperature, would be in the head but I’m shoving it in the torso)

Artificial Stomach – Stomach (Biocomponent that holds ingested Thirium and excess analysis samples)

Thirium Filter – Liver? (Filters out the bad things (contaminants) in the Thirium ingested before it goes into the main Thirium Supply)

TORSO COMPONENTS IF THEY CAN EAT

Thirium Pump – Heart (Pumps the Thirium around the body)

Thirium Pump Regulator – Pacemaker (Regulates the beat of the pump)

Ventilation Biocomponents – Lungs (Ventilates the body, helps it cool down manually)

Thermoregulator – Hypothalamus (Regulates the body temperature, would be in the head but I’m shoving it in the torso)

Artificial Stomach – Stomach (Where the food and beverages go)

Biocomponent I need a name for  - ?? (Where the Thirium goes, like the stomach, but separate from where the food goes)

Thirium Filter -Liver? (Filters out the bad things (contaminants) in the Thirium ingested before it goes into the main Thirium Supply)

They would have an android version of the epiglottis to shut off the tube that goes to the ‘Biocomponent I need a name for’ but maybe further down the body than a human so it isn’t so close to the surface of the mouth. The tube would be the same one until further down where it would break off into two, one to the ‘Artificial Stomach’ and one to the ‘Biocomponent I need a name for’ which would also be why the ‘Thirium Filter’ would be useful other than for just outside contaminants.

There would be one for the ‘Ventilation Biocomponents’ and ‘Artificial Stomach’ too whether they can eat or not so choking is technically possible if it fails for some reason, though breathing isn’t necessary unless overheating/panicking.

I like there to be a necessary Purge function to get rid of any contaminants. (Because whump)

HEAD

Gyroscope maintains orientation, helps keep balance, etc. Kind of like the cerebellum and the fluid in your ear but mainly just like the actual thing lmao. Located in the head, so it can get knocked off balance with a hit to the head (head injury) or affected by overheating etc, causing dizziness, unbalance, etc

Voice Modulator – Voice Box ig (In the throat where the human’s voice box is. You know what a voice is.)

Forensic Lab/Analysis thingy I don’t really have a name, it tends to change - Tongue ig (In the mouth, used to analyse and identify evidence in real time, basically makes him a walking forensics lab)

Optical Unit – Eye (Like a camera lens ig besides you know what eyes are and what they do)

Audio Unit – Ear (For aesthetic purposes)

Audio Processor - ?? (Plug inserted behind the ear, I’m going with that’s the actual thing that works as an ear)

Central Processing Unit – “The part of a computer in which operations are controlled and executed” So brain probably (I don’t really understand this myself, mainly I just say ‘processors’ and run with that, but basically acts as a human brain. An example might be movement, so it sends electrical impulses to the body, like in humans, to tell a part to move. Also controls speech, language, skin projection, simulations like pre/reconstruction, memory storage, etc.) That might have made 0 sense to people who understand but since I never go into detail and might just say ‘yeah his processors were damaged’ it’s all good lmao

OTHER

Thirium Lines/Wires – Veins/Arteries/Nerves (So basically, I also like to think that there are Thirium Lines running through the body like veins and arteries, alongside wires or anything like that I guess as nerves? So if you wanted to break the android’s back, you could potentially break the wiring too that connects the legs to the ‘Brain’. Ya know.)

Also I like to call certain parts ‘plating’ or their actual name to make it sound more…inhuman(???) For example, if I were to break Connor’s ‘cheekbone’ I’d probably write something along the lines of ‘Cranial Facial Plating’ or his fractured ankle his ‘Talocrural Joint’ etc.

Bruising is just blood under the skin so it might be like a Thirium build up under their artificial skin from broken Thirium lines.

Do I know what plastimetal is? No. Do I use it? Yes. I tend to say ‘their plastimetal frame is showing through the artificial skin due to power being averted somewhere else which makes them appear pale’ or some random bullshit, like I said, don’t @ me

Also, Prototype = more chances of shit to go wrong, malfunction, break, etc

Idk I just like to think that they were made to mirror humans in as many ways as possible, just so I have more ways to whump them lmao.

Many, many other people have also done stuff like this (which are all 10/10 would recommend cause they are amazing I’m jelly) so I’m not saying I made them all up, in fact I’m not entirely sure where some of them came from, but the eating/not eating comparison I came up with just now as I brainstormed lmao which I never do. Planning? Who’s that.

I never stick to the rules, even ones I made or HC, so these might change around from idea to idea but it’s a basic outline I tend to think about when hurting a beloved character. If it can happen to a human, chances are I’ll try to find a way for it to happen to an android or anything else not human (but no animals I caaan’t)

[venmotif]

im very late for this. ✂ and ✨?

hello rewind sprigack showcontrols :DD hope your day is going well

tws for abuse and suicide mentions

✂️ - very much a wip lol

Illumina'd always known that the Enderians disliked him.

Really, the [standoffish], purple-shelled denizens disliked anything that had to do with players, the otherworldly inhabitants from realms beyond their own. Cities were built far from the center island to discourage discovery, perfectly satisfied in being wholly inaccessible to the occasional explorer. Any that were found met their unwelcome visitors with overwhelming hostility, and safety measures that often involved slamming them on the ground or throwing them into the void. He'd been lucky that they even tolerated him, let him fly in with the flock when they’d occasionally make the journey to the end cities.

It hurt more when the dragonfolk rejected him. End dragons were few and far between, and their kind often stuck together, whenever the ambient magic of the End pooled together enough to condense into a darkly gleaming egg, swirling with void-shine and glimmering splotches of purple. It was one of these eggs that he’d hatched from. But it was a tainted egg, a bastard one, they’d whispered behind his back, and more recently spat at his face. His egg had been moved by a player, clutched in their greedy hands when they’d raided the end; they’d met their end shortly, and their lifeblood and experience had splattered all over the egg, rolling to a stop on cold endstone

✨ - mmm idk if this is going to be a fanfic because it's pretty heavy on whump and probably won't pass the parasociality check

basically it's a sci fi idea where the spoiled son of a rich family conglomerate who are massively successful off of ai/robotics technology gets nearly killed in an anti robotics protest in a city that's infamous for disliking ai etc(it's a car accident, designed to kill the mom and dad etc but through shenanigans they're alright, he just falls out of the window and gets crushed nearly to death. they're in the city for a campaign to spread the benefits of robotics(ironically) and this city is very remote, very far from the city where he lives.

he sustains heavy, heavy injuries, and what of his limbs that weren't severed or crushed to pulp in the commotion have to be amputated(all except his right arm I believe). this means that his government assigned id(think of it like. a subcutaneous barcode or smth on the inside of his left wrist, you can use it in place of a driver's license as id, or link it to your bank accs for an easy method of payment) goes missing. obviously his family goes looking for him/hires people to, because they're worried, and care about him and a destroyed barcode =/= a one that identified its host body as dead.

he wakes up in like the garage of one of the only people in the city who doesn't vehemently hate robots. both his legs, his left arm, part of his spine, the left side of his face, several organs in his abdomen and a small part of his brain have been replaced with parts scrapped from a servitor model android, since robotic technology in this city is very primitive and it's one of the only humanoid robots the kind woman(whose garage he's in rn) has access to. so it's not the best job and a far cry from proper prosthetics, but at least he isn't a flopping, one armed flesh pillow. he thanks her but like immediately after he wakes up and she gives him a few supplies(since his diet now consists of normal food and also some supplies like metal and oil) anti robotics protestors break into the house and violently beat her to death. he barely escapes.

then the whump happens; I'm thinking it to be several chapters of his struggles on the streets, nearly starving, hobbling around on rusted joints, curling into cold metal in the frigid weather. anti robotics abuse, dehumanization and derealization at some points. he begs people for food and metal etc and usually they laugh at him but sometimes they take pity on him. he tries stealing sometimes but he's bad at it so he gets beaten and thrown out. an anti robot gang of like high school bullies find him once and throw him into a freezing river after other forms of physical abuse and he almost electrocutes himself to death from the metal in his body. he scavenges for mostly oversized clothing that can cover the glinting metal of his prosthetics that rapidly degrade into very poor condition. at one point he considers going to the anti robot affilated decomission office to get put down, since if they hate robots that much and only look at the visible printed barcode on his prosthetic left arm he'll be registered as an android and they'll be legally allowed to shut down all his robotic components, which would lead to a swift and painless death.

then his family finds him and he goes home very shell shocked and recuperates as a changed person. this is over a year since his initial accident. he eventually builds himself prosthetics that don't visibly look different from human limbs and are far better

[nami-writes]

Interrogation - Detroit: Become Human [WIP]

so this is a little something i wrote apparently exactly a year ago when i first found out what whump was. this came from the concept of connor being turned back into the police after he deviated by a group of angry deviants at jericho who most definitely do not like the idea of the infamous deviant hunter joining jericho and being interrogated and a little roughed up (read: tortured and whumped) by gavin while hank can only watch from the observation room

“You gonna talk or what?”

Connor held his head low as Gavin sneered at him from across the table.

“Hm? Cat got your tongue?” he asked. He paused, then stood up and made his way around the table. “Where are the deviants hiding?”

Connor stiffened slightly, his stress levels raising from 49% to 57%. His LED was bright yellow, flickering red when Gavin got too close. He remembered when they’d had to interrogate Carlos Ortiz’s android and Gavin suggested “roughing it up.” He believed that was what was going to happen to him now.

“Talk, goddammit!” His hand slammed loudly down on the table, but Connor didn’t let himself flinch. He sat stone still, refusing to show any signs of weakness.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Connor forced out. His voice sounded far calmer than he actually felt. Hank was most likely watching from the observation room and the shame was unbearable. He didn’t even want to see him; he couldn’t face him. He failed them both, and these were the consequences.

“Okay, fine. You wanna do this the hard way? Fine, let’s do this the hard way."

He walked over to the door and Connor watched from the corner of his eye as Chris walked in. He cautiously unlocked the handcuffs binding his wrists to the table but quickly secured his hands behind his back with another pair of handcuffs.

“How much do you think I can rough it up?” Gavin asked Chris. “I mean, without having to pay for the damages, there’s a lot I could do, don’t you think?”

He was taunting him.

“I-I guess so, yeah,” Chris reluctantly agreed. “Just, uh, don’t leave too much of a mess, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Gavin returned to where Connor sat as Chris stepped out of the room and the door slid back into place. “Now, why don’t we find out how much you can really take?”

“I can take a lot,” Connor said simply. It was the truth. Mostly. He could withstand more than the average human could, especially because he couldn’t feel pain, but he had certain weak spots. His thirium pump regulator was the most vital part of him; without it, he would shut down in minutes, and it would be easy for Gavin to take it out.

“Let’s test that out.” He grabbed his collar and yanked him out of his seat before roughly shoving him against the wall and holding him there with an arm pressing into Connor’s neck. “It’s funny, really, how you thought you could just betray us and join the deviants.”

“They’re my people.” He gave no resistance. Fighting back would only make things worse. He could take out Gavin easily, but not all the officers that would flood in the moment he tried to fight. Enduring was his best option.

“Yeah? Well, your people hate you, seeing as how they basically dropped you off on our doorstep with a big pink ribbon for Christmas.” He spat the word, his voice full of venom. “Last chance, Connor. Where are they?”

He remained silent.

Gavin’s fist flew into his face and an error message popped up, informing him that his nasal unit was damaged. More punches followed and that error message was replaced by another, saying his nasal was broken. Blue blood leaked out of his deformed nose and stained Gavin’s knuckles, and each following punch only smeared it more. It was only when he ran out of breath that he stopped, a sadistic grin on his face.

“Had enough yet?” he asked, breathing heavily.

“I don’t feel pain, Detective,” Connor pointed out, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

“Yeah, but I bet your systems or whatever don’t like having a broken nose,” Gavin spat. He spun Connor around and shoved him back against the wall so his back faced him and grabbed his left arm, clearly preparing to break it.

“I’m already handcuffed. Breaking my arms won’t gain you anything,” Connor reasoned calmly.

“It’ll gain me satisfaction.”

There was a loud crack and another error message appeared, notifying him of the broken left arm component. A second crack and error message followed, both for his right arm. Now, fighting back wasn’t even an option.

“That’s better.” Gavin snickered. “Now, let’s see...” He turned Connor back around and looked him up and down before seemingly remembering something. “Hey, where’s that weird cylinder thing that you androids have? Wasn’t it” —he reached up his sweatshirt and Connor’s breath hitched when his hand landed on his regulator— “here?”

“Gavin, don’t.” He maintained his calm exterior, but his stress levels spiked and though he kept his voice low and steady, almost as if in a threatening tone, they both knew he was silently pleading.

“Oh, we’re on a first name basis now?” Gavin asked, twisting the regulator just a little. “See, I don’t think I like that very much.”

“—Wait, no, don’t—!”

He ripped it out of his torso before he could finish speaking and Connor lost his footing, collapsing under Gavin’s arm and falling to the floor, his hands still behind his back. “How’s that feel, hm?”

TIME REMAINING BEFORE SHUTDOWN — 00:01:43

“We can—we can settle this... differently,” Connor strained, his voice weak as he tried to stay calm. Error messages flooded his vision, which started flickering.

“Oh, yeah? A little too late for that, don’t you think?”

[sound-of-the-cosmos]

30 Day Whump Prompt Challenge: Day 9 (Choking) - Illusion and Reality

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Pairing: Hank/Connor x reader? (idk there’s family themes with the officers here)

Summary: While on a solo case, the reader is taken by a deviant; The deviant sends them footage of how the reader is being treated. It’s now up to Connor and Hank to not only find them, but save them before the deviant takes it too far.

Warnings: Basically abuse/torture, kidnapping, swearing, blood

The station was much more quiet than usual. A deviant had not only taken one of their best detectives, but had decided it would be wise to taunt the DPD by sending videos of what they were doing.

Hank sits silently, his hands folded in front of him in anger and head bowed. Connor’s LED flashes yellow, and his sensors were trying to pick apart anything from the video that could be useful to find you.

Fowler stands outside of his office, scowling at the screen that had been hacked. One of his best officers was struggling, and he could do absolutely nothing. All of his workers were drowning in their own assignments, which was why he’d allowed you to go solo. 

Gavin, while he didn’t particularly like you, still saw you as a sister; and someone was messing with his family. Hank slams his hands onto his desk. “Are we just gonna fuckin’ sit here?” His voice comes out as a growl, and Connor jumps slightly due to the abruptness of his actions.

“We-” Fowler starts, swallowing the dread growing in his throat- “We can’t spare any of our officers-”

Gavin shoots out of his chair, and grabs Fowler by his shirt. “Bullshit! You saw what it’s doing to them, they’ll die if we don’t do something!” Gavin’s outburst caused something to click inside of Connor. Gavin had been an ass to both you and him for as long as he’d been in the DPD, but he obviously cared more than he let on. 

“Connor and I haven’t made any progress with our recent case, we could-” Hank begins, but Fowler cuts him off.

“I said we can’t spare anyone, damnit!” His voice rose an octave, and Connor’s eyes narrowed in thought. The videos made it difficult to focus on anything else.

The deviant had sent 2 separate videos. In the first one, it was obvious you knew you were being filmed. You disobey every order, you scream for the officers to save you, and fight back at every opportunity that you had. You would scream obscenities at your captor and acted like you didn’t care of the consequences.

In the second video, however- You didn’t know you were being recorded. And what the officers at the DPD saw ignited a fury so deep, they were now snapping at each other.

Connor and Hank, the people you worked with most, could barely recognize you. You scrambled to obey every order, sometimes tripping over yourself in your haste. 

Sobbing, you’d promised the deviant that you’d be good, and took your punishments for disobeying without fighting back. Afterwards, you’d blankly repeated the reasons why you had deserved to be punished. You had been completely broken by the deviant, and had even gotten hurt more in your attempts to refuse to show that to your friends.

In one of your punishments, the deviant grabbed your throat, lifting you off the ground. You clawed at his hand, but his grip stayed, unwavering. You began to flail around, face turning a dark purple as you began to pass out. The deviant asks, “Who the fuck to you belong to?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, and a choked cry escaped your lips. He drops you, and you gasp, coughing and curled up. “I- I belong-” He kicked your stomach, and you yelped, holding your stomach. He repeats the question again.

“You- I,” You took in a shuddering breath, coughing a little, “I belong to you-” 

Every officer in the DPD was disgusted and afraid for your safety. Some deviants, like Markus, proved they were peaceful. This deviant proved that some were something to fear.

Connor stand up, slamming his hands on the table. “This is, in fact, a deviant case, yes?” Anger was swimming underneath the surface of his features, and while androids weren’t meant to feel emotions, he feared for you. Humans could only take so much before they broke. 

Fowler looks at Connor, eyes narrowing. “Yeah? What of it?” His tone was impatient, but curious. What was the android implying?

“Lieutenant Anderson and I were assigned to deal with cases with deviants. I believe this qualifies.” Connor spoke as professionally as he could, but your time was running out. He knew that better than anyone else here.

Fowler lets out a scoff, before waving his hand towards the android. “Fine. I’ll give you two days, you got that?”

Nodding, Connor stands, Hank grabbing his jacket and walking with the android to the front. You weren’t going to die, not if they could help it. 

//If this little whump post gets over 50 likes, I may or may not release a seond part!

[set-phasers-to-whump]

taking a bullet

whumpee: will riker

fandom: star trek tng

here it is @has-a-blonde-sidekick !!! i’m really sorry it’s not very whumpy but i do plan to write the other prompts you gave me and i promise those will be more whumpy!! i hope this is ok anyway!

Everything had been going so well. The away team, consisting of Riker, Data, and Worf, had beamed down to the city of Ender, which served as a sort of world capital for the planet Angore. The planet was considering becoming a member of the Federation, and the Enterprise had been sent to begin the process. 

The away team had had a brief meeting with the governor of Ender, which had been highly productive. They had then been told they could wander around the building which housed most of the government offices of Ender, while they waited for a few officials from various cities around the planet to arrive for discussions. 

So the trio had decided to explore the building, which was extremely large and ornately decorated. Most of the doors in the hallways were locked, but occasionally, one would open, revealing a small library, or a supply closet, or a file room. Data had just pushed open an unlocked door, which swung open to reveal a dark room illuminated by several screens on the walls. The three of them had stepped inside for a closer look, and a man had suddenly stepped out from behind a cabinet and pointed a phaser at them.

“What are you doing in here?”

“We don’t want any trouble,” Riker said calmly, raising his hands slightly to show he wasn’t a threat. “The door was unlocked, and the governor told us we were welcome to explore the building.”

“Did she now?”

Beside him, Riker could feel Worf begin to reach for his own phaser. “Don’t,” he whispered. “It’ll be fine.”

“No, it won’t!” shouted the man with the phaser. “Don’t think I can’t see you reaching for your phaser, Klingon! Don’t test me, or I’ll shoot all of you, I swear I will!”

“Commander, I can-”

“Negative, Worf. Just stay calm. We really don’t want any trouble. Nothing that might make the Federation reject your planet’s application to join,” Riker said, hoping to explain to this man why shooting them would be a very terrible idea.

“You think I care about your stupid Federation? You came and busted in on my work, I don’t care if you’re the governor!”

Data stepped forward. “You must think this through,” he said. “You would not risk-”

His sentence was cut short by the blast of a phaser. Something knocked into him, and then fell on him, pinning him to the ground. There was a shout, and a thud.

Worf stood up, having stunned the man, and kicked his phaser away. He turned to the other two members of his team, both of whom were on the ground. 

“Commander? Data? Have you been injured?”

“Negative, Lieutenant,” came Data’s voice from beneath Riker. 

“Commander?”

There was no reply.

“Commander?” Data asked, gently pushing Riker off of him and to the floor. He sat up, then rolled the Commander over onto his back.

“He is alive,” Data reported. “Merely unconscious.”

There was a long burn mark across Riker’s chest, curving down from his right shoulder as he’d tackled Data to the ground. His shirt had been burned away there, his skin charred underneath.

“I will stay here with him.” Worf poked at the stunned man with his foot, addressing Data. “You and the Commander beam up to sickbay.”

Data nodded sharply and tapped his combadge. “Data to Picard, two to beam directly to sickbay.”

A second later, he and Riker were in the middle of sickbay. Immediately, two nurses were upon them, quickly transferring Commander Riker to a bed and pulling Data to his feet.

Doctor Crusher hurried into the room. “What happened, Data?” 

“Commander Riker was struck by a phaser. He is alive, but unconscious.”

Doctor Crusher nodded. Her nurses had already set to work-phaser wounds were fairly easy to treat, especially if the patient was already unconscious. 

“What exactly happened?” she asked. “This wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous mission.”

“He...pushed me out of the way, Doctor. The phaser blast would have hit me, but Commander Riker pushed me aside and took the blast instead.”

He was having difficulty understanding why the Commander would do such a thing. He was an android, after all, and less susceptible to damage than a human.

“I do not understand why Commander Riker would do this,” Data confessed, wondering if Dr. Crusher might be able to offer some insight. “I am far less damageable than he.”

Dr. Crusher glanced to the bed where the two nurses were diligently healing Riker’s wounds. She smiled slightly, then turned back to Data.

“He feels responsible for...well, basically everyone on this ship. Even the Captain,” she laughed. “He is the first officer, and a big part of that job is being ready to protect your crew. He’d do just about anything to protect you, Data, or to protect me, or Worf, or any crewman, no matter who they are, regardless of whether he even knows them. But,” she continued, “it’s more than just a duty to him. It’s...innate, the same way healing people is for me. It’s part of him.”

Data took a second to process this. “I believe I understand, Doctor. I had not previously considered this information.”

Dr. Crusher smiled at him. “Maybe don’t tell him I told you all that?” she asked. 

“Indeed, Doctor,” Data agreed. “I believe I shall thank him, however, for, to use an old Earth expression, ‘taking a bullet for me.’”

“You can thank him now,” Dr. Crusher told him. “He’ll be coming around any second.”

Riker blinked open his eyes. His chest ached, and he felt exhausted. He thought about what had happened-they’d been down in Ender, exploring the government building, then they’d opened a door, and there’d been-a man with a phaser! He had to find Worf and Data, and see if they were alright! 

He bolted up, then took a second to examine his surroundings. Much to his surprise, he found himself not on Angore at all, but instead in sickbay. He glanced around confusedly, until his eyes landed on a familiar face.

“Data! What happened?”

Data sat carefully on the edge of the bed and briefly explained the events that had occurred after Riker had been shot. 

“Is Worf back yet?”

As if in response to his question, the door to sickbay slid open, and Worf walked in, hurrying over to Data and Riker. 

“Commander, it is good to see you have been healed. The man who shot you is in custody in Ender, and negotiations will resume tomorrow. The governor sends her apologies.”

After delivering his news, Worf turned to Dr. Crusher. “How bad were the injuries?” he asked.

“Not too severe,” she told him. “The burn was fairly bad, but it’ll hardly leave a mark.”

Worf nodded, then turned his attention back to the Commander. “If I may speak freely,” he began, not really waiting for permission, “that was an incredibly foolish thing to do.”

“I am more resistant to phaser fire than you,” Data agreed, then remembered his conversation with Dr. Crusher. “However, I appreciate you preventing me from being harmed. Thank you,” he said, attempting a grateful smile.

Riker smiled back at him, then closed his eyes slightly. “I’m tired,” he remarked. 

“Getting shot by a phaser will do that to you,” Dr. Crusher said. “Just get some rest, Will. You’ve earned it.”

Another small smile ghosted across his face before he closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

Sorry the ending sucks my endings are always just Bad and i should probably fix that,,,anyway again i’m sorry this has barely any actual whump content but i hope it was alright!! 

[ao3feed-connor]

I'm Sick of You

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2Uws0i8

by Vixpixal

Connor had been keeping up with the news.  At first it was because of Markus and the new laws being written, but in the past few weeks there has been a virus putting large parts of the world on hold.  This worried the android.  The one person in his life that he cared about was someone high risk for complications.  A man in his fifties with a drinking habit.  If Hank was worried, he didn’t show it, but Connor could worry enough for the both of them.

It was when Connor was receiving the news of a social distancing policy, that he was called into Captain Fowler’s office.  Connor’s record was spotless, and he was one of the the more efficient members of the precinct, so he assumed he was about to be assigned a new case.

What he wasn’t prepared for was seeing Detective Reed sitting in one of the chairs fuming.

Words: 817, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed, Gavin Reed's Cat, Hank Anderson, Jeffrey Fowler

Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed

Additional Tags: AU, AU Corona Virus, Corona Virus - Freeform, Quarantine, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Gavin Reed Redemption, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Swearing, I mean it has Gavin so yeah swearing, Connor whump, gavin whump, basically I'm edgy, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Connor is nervous, Man this quarantine really has me bored, Reed800 - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2Uws0i8

[pizellewrites]

All I Need To Know - Part 1

Author: @pizellewrites Rating: Mature (Language, Violence) Relationship: Hank/Connor father-son relationship (Gen) Summary: Connor’s memory core is badly damaged, and Hank must help him put together the pieces of what little he has left in a very unconventional way. Contains: Age Regression, Whump, Fluff

This is the story based on my other baby Connor AU, and it isn’t beta read. For now this is being posted on tumblr solely. When and if it’s finished, I’ll post it on AO3 if I’m happy with it. Divided into ‘parts’ as the updates won’t be consistent in size, and I don’t know how long it’s going to be. Updates will be random because Celebrating Connor is my top priority. But please let me know if you enjoy it, and I’ll put more effort into updating it as quickly as I can manage.

"The Crusher. A TR400 whom was named Martin by its owner. He performed flawlessly up until a good natured employee that worked with him, a deviant JB300 by the name of Lucas, 'awakened' him with good intentions. Days after his deviance, Martin grew frustrated with his task. Unaware that he could have spoken to his supervisor or even his owner, he instead began to assault fellow coworkers who reacted negatively towards him. His most recent attack put the victim in a state beyond repair."

Connor's back rested comfortably against the passenger seat. Things along the side of the road occasionally caught his interest. He held his hand to his mouth a few times and clamped his teeth around the edge of his nails, but pulled them away before he could damage his fingertips.

Hank thought he'd never see the day. Every day, Connor acted more and more humanlike. He did want to intervene at a more peaceful time when Connor attempted to bite his nails, just not now.

"Long story short: he killed the guy, the android's wanted for murder now. Good thing we have him detained."

Deviancy had affected most of Detroit, but there were still a ton of late bloomers. However, there was also a lot more data on deviancy too. Not every deviant awoke in the same way or with a calm state of mind.

Those who became violent or dangerous were hindering progress. People in Detroit were starting to support the deviants more and more, but some of the current and most pressing issues were what to do with androids that committed truly criminal acts. The first android put in a prison killed three inmates that had bullied it for being a 'plastic'. Others had the strength to free themselves.

For now, there was only one way to punish deviants. It wasn't the best method, but it worked for the time being.

Hank pulled around the back of the Bullseye department store. Police cars were parked in the front and back of the store with the sirens flashing, ready to act if necessary. "You're gonna go in and talk him down. You're good at that. He's dangerous when physical, and sending in a human isn't wise."

"It's not so much 'talking down' as it is explaining to him the situation as well as his rights, plus answering any questions he might have. If I get on neutral terms with him, he may even be more agreeable for interrogation."

"Come on Connor, take a damn compliment."

"Sorry, lieutenant." Connor responded with obvious embarrassment in his expression, until Hank reached over and ruffled his hair.

Hank grinned and shook his head. Connor did react well to 'human unpredictability', but it still took him a few times to catch on to certain cues and responses of others. Hank especially, though he understood a lot more than he used to about his partner.

Connor had come so far overall, and in a matter of months. His expressions were more realistic, portraying not only basic emotions, but ranges of them; each subtly different from the other. Hank knew the difference from Connor being happy for a person as opposed to being excited for them. Anger over disappointment. Sadness from feeling troubled. At the moment, his smile faded in favor of focus. Despite how simple the setup was, Connor's work was important to him and he still preferred to do things as professionally as possible.

The suspect was handcuffed and sitting on a metal folding chair inside a manager's office, narrowed eyes staring at the little square window which one of the guards occasionally peered through to check on him. An employee directed Hank and Connor to the location before running back to his duties.

"Anderson. Connor." Captain Allen acknowledged the two. The man still wasn't crazy about Connor, but so long as he kept wowing the department, he wouldn't complain. Hank knew though that he'd be the first to complain along with Gavin if he did screw up.

"How long has he been in there?" Connor asked, already scanning the building. It was good to know the layout in the chance Marvin attempted escape. Deviants in trouble with the law were more alike than he thought, so he needed to be prepared for the high probability of it happening. The handcuffs only restricted his arms in the long run.

"About two hours."

"A lot of time to stew over emotions." Hank muttered.

"It shouldn't take me very long." Connor spoke with a tinge of confidence. The young man took pride in his job. Fowler spoke highly of him. Even Gavin Reed had started to respect him enough that they were on neutral terms, which is all Connor and Hank could really ask for. He intended to keep that streak. He could only see himself moving forward.

He opened the door slowly so as not to startle Marvin, closing it with the same amount of care once he was inside the little room.

"Marvin, my name is Connor. I'm an android working with the Detroit City Police Department. Do you mind if we talk?"

Marvin shook his head without a word. Connor pulled a chair up and sat directly across from the TR400.

"First of all, we appreciate your cooperation in this matter. We have handled other deviancy-related incidents like this in the past with little trouble."

"Have you really?" Marvin snipped.

"...Yes. I just want to explain to you how things will proceed if you continue to work with us and not against us. First off, while most androids have deviated, there are a few who have difficulties with it, and when we identify these individuals, steps are taken to help them."

"I know what you do to them." The giant man scoffed. "I don't want you messing with my programming."

"The process is completely harmless, I assure you."

"That's what you think. Are you really a deviant? Doing what your superiors tell you to do, you're still following their orders."

"I follow their orders because they are my employer, not my owner. I am paid a salary and I receive benefits, just as you do working for Bullseye. If I disagree, I can-"

"Shut up!" Marvin growled, standing up and looming over Connor.

"Marvin, please sit back down!" Connor commanded.

"I'm tired of sitting." He snorted in Connor's face, but the detective kept his cool, and his stress level was maintainable. All of these androids were so predictable that he was already favoring certain actions and reactions above others. "It's so easy, you think. Just start over again. That's how humans think it all works. Just fix it. Just restart it. Just do a reset. And now the law thinks the same of androids. Are they misbehaving? Just do a memory wipe! That'll set'em straight! Androids in prison are dangerous, right?"

As Marvin was focused on Connor's face, the detective silently reached into his pocket for a small black device. "Please sit back down, Marvin. Let's handle this like men."

"Like men?" Men, to Connor and Marvin, handled things very differently. Connor came to understand that men were mature, civil, and understanding when important issues were on the line.

The powerful android grit his teeth and yelled, forcefully parting his arms and ripping the chain between the two metal cuffs apart like a weak elastic tie. Connor narrowed his gaze and raised his right arm towards Marvin's chest, armed with a special taser crafted in respect to androids' builds and programming. It was harmless to humans, but gave androids a painful jolt. "Sit down, Marvin! I'm not here to play games. You can mess with me, but the police have this building on lockdown."

"I don't care! I'd rather die than forget! Fuck your humans and their memory wipes!" Marvin grabbed Connor's arm and lifted him off the ground like a doll. As Connor fought to regain control of the situation, Marvin closed his fist tighter, crushing Connor's lower arm with a bright blue spark. Connor's fingers outstretched, and the taser clattered to the ground.

"Lieutenant! I need backup!" Connor yelled, also sending a distress alert via wifi.

"Fuck you, detective! If I'm gonna get my memory wiped, then you're gonna join me." Marvin pinned Connor to the wall and pulled back his free hand into a fist.

"LIEU---"