#dbh story

[jotunkhiicha]

If I had a nickel for every time I created a ginger character who swears, and has a harsh temperament to cover trauma, I’d have two nickels.

“Live or Be Killed Trying.”

While the sun shines in the sky, at its highest at noon, Fran presses her back against the centre fixture in the bullpen. “Fuck!” Is all she can say when the shooter fires some more bullets, catching the terminal on her desk and it rains glass shards around her.

From where she sits and behind the centre fixture in the precinct, she can see Chris tucked behind his desk, desperately trying not to be seen, but it feels like only a matter of time before he’s found and killed.

A palpable fear is evident in the precinct as the scent of death carries heavy in the air like methane; it coats the floor and sucks into their brains when they breathe in that musky, iron scent of blood and the strange acrid scent of Thirium. It lurks and only pounces as the shooter steps forwards, onto the glass shards to announce themselves in this horrific landscape.

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Fran curses at whatever fortune has befallen her. “Of all the fucking days…” She grumbles as she leans to the left to see where the shooter is, only to be shot at when her ginger locks fall into the light, “Shit!” She recoils.

“Don’t fucking move, Fran!” The shooter yells at her as they begin to stalk forwards, slowly approaching where she hides.

The detective furrows her brows and tilts her head as she, gingerly, slides across the floor to be as far away from the attacker as she can be. “Do I know you?” She calls back, her hand splayed flat against the floor as she balances her weight on it, pushing herself up onto the balls of her feet.

“Do you know me?” The attacker parrots back with a demented laughter while they yank off their mask, revealing their brown eyes, freckled features and doe eyes, “You destroyed my dad’s life, Fran! You and your fucking sister who shit all over my life and made him kill himself! So, yeah. I hope you know who I fucking am!” She hoarsely yells back, the clacking of the gun audible as she lurches forwards with it.

Fran’s eyes widen as an older case of hers is reborn before her eyes and the resolution twisted beyond recognition.

“Gwen…” She whispers to herself as the memory unwinds and she recalls that toxic regret, as if it everything was all her fault and there wasn’t a single thing she could do to fix it.

The truth of it all comes spiralling down like an avalanche from above, and Chris can only look at his coworker in confusion at the attackers words. He’s always known her to be untouchable, a mystery that seemed to have all the answers but took far too much to unravel, so none ever tried. She’d push people away and lament when they’d slip from her grip, so who is this reflection of her past—a lost totem that stands as a final vestige of a poor choice, or the fragmented remnants of a life she no longer leads?

Fran gestures for Chris to make a break for it and leave her alone with the girl, her two fingers guiding him over to the entrance where thirium erupts from the androids on standby. Their eyes meet and she nods as she bites her lower lip in trepidation; the fear of imminent death seems far too strong for even her to mask.

“All you care about is your money! You don’t care about the normal people who have to graft, steal, beg and sell themselves for a few extra bucks so we can fucking eat!” She presses onwards, approaching the centre of the bullpen now.

With the opening, Chris crawls behind her before he dashes out into the lobby, running for the entrance with his radio to his lips.

Fran purses her lips and clenches her fists. “Gwen, I’m going to tell you something you’re not going to like.” She looks around the corner to see Gwen looking in the opposite direction, waving her gun around as she surveys the area.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut your fucking mouth! Don’t pretend you know me! You know nothing about me! I’ve done things that would shock you!”

That familiar indignant defiance, all of it reminded Fran of who she once was; a young girl full with rage who wielded a loaded revolver and just wanted her life to be normal.

Memories of a time she buried far beneath the surface come up like smoke from a burning forest, revealing that she’d not run far enough from it to avoid being consumed by it. The pain ignites the foliage in her mind, setting ablaze unfamiliar pathways that have been cut off—severed—from her mind, forcing her to look upon these imperfections with her rapt gaze.

“You’re just like me, Gwen, but don’t become me.” Fran solemnly says as she moves to stand, her hands raised while she turns to face the young girl brandishing a rifle, “Don’t be anything like me.”

When they look at one another, their eyes meet as equals who have suffered and wished to purge the source of their emotional conflict. There’s a sort of twisted clarity in there, like a clearing in a dense thicket. It wasn’t comforting, it only served to show how devoid their futures could be if they didn’t fill the void that has been created by traumatic memories. It seemed as though the detective had made it past her failures, her regret and her emotional turmoil as she gazes beneath, looking down upon Gwen as she struggled through the marsh of misery.

“I was just like you ten years ago.” Fran murmurs as she steps closer, her shoes crunching on broken glass, “Just someone who wanted revenge for what she’d been through—someone who wanted the world to make sense.”

Gwen screams and shakes her head as her tears begin to find their form on her lashes. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stop trying to talk to me!” She whimpers as she half-heartedly waves the gun at the detective.

Fran halts and lowers her hands, not to yield, but to comfort the wounded animal. “Gwen, I know you’re scared and that you just want control of your life back,” She takes one more step as Gwen’s fingers go lax and she sniffles while a gut-wrenching sob becomes a mewling scream, “But this won’t fix that—I promise you. It’ll just make that hole seem so much larger, and there’ll come a day where that hole becomes your life and you can’t get out.” She whispers as she steps ever closer, but the young girl doesn’t try to stop her, she just bawls.

Gwen cries louder, surrendering to her grief. “I just want it to be over.” She pleads with whatever gods are watching, begging her heart to relinquish its agony.

“I know,” Fran murmurs as she reaches for the barrel of the gun, delicately easing it from her grip, “I know you do.”

Slouching, Gwen drops the gun and the detective pulls it completely out of her hold and she slides it across the floor. As it clatters, Fran pays the gun no need and pulls the young girl into her embrace, allowing her to scream into her black vest top as she grasps her red, plaid blouse to anchor herself to the real world.

“I know...”

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[sisyphusunderthesun]

Endless love

[silna-pdf]

Prototype

[scipunk]

Detroit Become Human (2018)

[3hoppingfrog3]

Good ending for DBH au just dropped!

[bisexualcherdegre]

D:BH Rarepairsweek 7 | @dbhrarepairs

Day 1 - North/Kara

[glass-noodle]

Is Gavin going to end up meeting Nines in your au? Just asking for a friend 👉👈

it’s possible 👀

[iwonderwh0]

I hate how they made deviants act like cult-members instead of a movement motivated by the common goal but didn't expand on that cultishness either. The difference would be that in a political movement, as opposed to a cult, some members wouldn't really like Markus and would be openly disagreeing with him on some of his tactics, but could choose to stand with him regardless as they're working towards the common goal. We see something like this with North and Josh, but the rest of the deviants? Just a crowd of followers that seem to be ready to roll with anything, comply to any order without objections, and even though I get it that it was a lot easier for the writers, FUCK if it isn't detrimental to the main point of "androids are living people with their own opinions and not machines that need a master to function".

I mean, it could actually be really cool if they could lean into that cult thingy entirely instead too. I mean, full cult fuckery with Markus utilising RA9 obsession by claiming himself to be RA9 himself as a choice made in order to gain more trust that can lead to either this absurd level of obedience from deviants in case Markus's choices are turning out well, or instead the one that can backfire BADLY with him loosing all the trust completely and perhaps even getting himself harmed by deviants who believed him the most and got harmed due to that blind faith as a consequence of that. I mean, it would be fun. It would make deviants look like they all actually have their own personality and not just machines who got their default master reassigned to Markus instead of themselves.

In short, if it looks like a cult – it might as well be made into an intentional choice of the narrative with according consequences. If it's not a cult – it shouldn't fucking look and behave like one and the distinction should be made clear.

[technosmutekk]

Ok dbh has its (big) flaws but starting the game with such an intense life or death hostage situation, while the player isn’t even used to the game mechanics and lore, is so cunt

[leelany-world]

House with a view

A case has brought Hank to a strange house, he doesn't even know exactly where he is, as he slept in Ben's car the whole way.

He wanders around, mostly to escape the commotion of a bloody homicide, and ends up in the basement, which has a direct view of the water. He rolls his eyes at the extravagance, wondering how anyone could build such a large aquarium in their house. Turning, he notices movement in the corner of his eye, but it's gone when he tries to see something in the dark water. It must have been a fish, he thinks. That’s when he realizes that the dimensions are too large for an aquarium; the house must be built next to a large body of water, and this room has a direct view of it.

Hank is about to leave when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he feels he is being watched. His eyes scan the room for cameras, but there aren't any. Hank shakes his head, it must be the alcohol, his nap in the car must have been too short to clear the alcohol from last night. 

As he takes one last look out the big window, his heart stops. A man is staring at him from outside—a man with a fish tail.

Hank tells himself that he should definitely stop drinking if he starts seeing mystical creatures. Mermaids—merman? he wonders—don't exist. Or do they?

Connor has always been too curious for his own good. His brothers keep telling him that sooner or later he'll get into real trouble. But he doesn't care. He loves to watch people, and this structure that the humans had built to observe underwater life is perfect for that.

The usual humans hadn't shown up for days after Connor had watched them fight, so he became curious when a new human suddenly appeared.

He had never been this close to the building, but something draws Connor to this big, sturdy man. He had never seen such a sad-looking human before. Sad and lost—and Connor wants nothing more than to see him close up, to make him happy. When he thinks the human is busy with something else and obviously distracted, Connor swims closer to the glass when the human suddenly turns around again.

They stare at each other. Connor studies the human very closely, taking in every detail of his face and body, while Hank obviously can't believe his eyes and doubts his sanity.

"Hank?" Ben's voice booms from the hallway, interrupting the moment.

"In here!" He turns to ask Ben if he's seeing what he's seeing.

But when he turns back to the window, there is nothing there but the dark water.

"Stop drinking, Hank," Ben advises, patting him on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Hank huffs. With one last look into the darkness, he was sure he saw glittering blue scales hiding behind a rock.

Bloody alcohol.

(Right?)

3D models by by DazCover on RenderHub (Connor) and Zeppersart on Twitter (Hank)

[the-ineffable-wanderer]

DBH fic writers and readers on AO3 be like.

DON'T KILL ME.... I love love love good Connor fics too. I am very self-aware. His story is excellent and, well, he arguably "becomes" human the most. Give me that sweet, sweet fanfic where he tries to have emotions. It's just kind of funny, isn't it?

Alternative version under the cut.

Looking at you, Reed900 enjoyers (including me). Haha

[lilshifting]

i shifted last night💪💪

story

it’s not anything special, but i have a turtle, and her filter wasn’t working and y’all i was MAD.

so i unplugged it and i was like “whatever bro i’ll deal w it tmr”

i wake up and it’s running perfectly, not extra noise, no leaking, like?? all i said before i went to sleep is “i’m shifting tonight, and i hope that stupid ass filter works when i get up” 😭😭 so no, it wasn’t a shift to any of my drs but i’m not complaining ts is REAL.

[sunatsubu]

y'all are KILLING me with so many amazing mermay hankcon AUs, now all I wanna do is draw fanart for them instead of working on my own thing for mermay. Hope you don't mind these rough sketches inspired by your awesome AUs @glass-noodle, @maddsmallow!! inspired by glass-noodle's merman connor, janitor hank AU

inspired by maddsmallow's android mer connor and organic mer hank AU

[stiwfssr]

[scipunk]

Detroit Become Human (2018)