#(connor being visible and feeling This Way about it / 10)

[detectiveconnor]

"Markus?"

Markus was reading. Connor stood at the end of the hall, leaning into Markus' living room. There was a habit Markus had of giving Connor his full attention; it's what he did, now, book closed over his thumb, eyes bright and awake in a way that caught the evening sun as it crept across the couch. The key to Markus' apartment was, currently, tucked into Connor's wallet, with his cards. It had been an invitation, made a week ago.

Probably he'd only be here another week or two at most (finding an apartment), but he knew now that he was one-hundred-and-thirty-eight-point-zero-two pounds in weight, which was information he would have been better off not having. He'd not even wholly made the decision to step onto the bathroom scales, it was a... habit.

"Do you use your scales a lot?" A beat, then (clarification), "I'd like to move them. I prefer not to know."

@jericholeader

#jericholeader #i acknowledge there are not... really many places for this to go but here is connor feeling mildly stupid and ignoring it #bc this is a healthy conversation to have and he is Asking. and trusts markus to listen #i just wanted him to ask out loud like this and so here it is #(connor being visible and feeling This Way about it / 10) #(connor being visible and feeling This Way about it and doing it anyway because he Should and Deserves to.) #(always that willingness to take up space. the truth is just the truth. he exists. surprise) #eating disorder cw #v; breathe (human) #anyway this was in my head and i wanted to See this conversation so here is a this #no obligations be safe be well i hope you are warm!

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)

Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.

Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

"Lieutenant, this place is-"

Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.

"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"

"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.

Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.

Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.

The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.

"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.

"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."

Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."

Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."

Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."

The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.

The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."

Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.

Before he could utter a word-

"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.

His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.

Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.

"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.

"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.

In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.

Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.

"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.

Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.

"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."

Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.

Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.

"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.

"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.

The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."

The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.

He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.

"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.

He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.

"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."

"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."

His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.

"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.

"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."

"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"

"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.

"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.

"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.

Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away.  In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."

"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."

"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.

You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.

"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.

Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.

"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."

He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."

You returned his smile and saw yourself out.

As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.

"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.

Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.

"Back to work," Hank groaned.

...

...

...

Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.

'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.

When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.

"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show

Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.

"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.

You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.

"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.

Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.

"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.

"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.

"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.

You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.

"I understand," he replied firmly.

He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.

"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.

You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.

"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.

Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.

Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.

Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.

With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.

It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.

Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”

It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.

"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.

"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.

Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.

You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.

"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.

"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.

He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."

"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."

"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"

Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.

"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."

You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.

"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.

"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."

"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.

"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.

"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."

You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.

"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.

"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"

His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.

Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?

You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.

Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.

He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.

"She's amazing," he replied quietly.

Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."

...

...

...

Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.

Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.

"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.

"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.

Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.

"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.

"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.

Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.

"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.

Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"

Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.

"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.

Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.

...

...

...

Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.

The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.

"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.

"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."

"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.

It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.

"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.

"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.

"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."

You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.

"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."

Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"

Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."

"Does he like being a detective?"

"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."

"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.

"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #deviant connor x reader #connor smut #rk800 smut

[pink-peony-princess]

Who Said Anything About Tact?

Violet's walk had started out like any other. She was a person of habit,very rarely did she break her routine, and so how she came to be by Old Station Bridge,she couldn't be sure. One thing had led to another, she had noticed the way the late afternoon light was hitting the trees just across the small river, the field behind it backlit perfectly. So perfectly that she'd done what she'd so rarely done before and stopped to take a photo.

She'd been warned about the presence of wolves by her mother so many times before, the whole town of Mercy Falls knew about them. There were the Cresent Moon pack, feared amongst wolves, but of zero threat to humans, in fact they were well know to help protect their human neighbours whenever necessary. And then there were the rogues, the mean, vicious, unapologetically violent, wolves that were fixated on taking the town for themselves.

Unfortunately for Violet this was who she came to be in the presence of the day it happened.

She'd taken her photo and had made it no more than 30 metres down the road when she heard the first growl. At first she ignored it, maybe it was a trick of her imagination she thought shaking her head. But she heard it again, this time closer, and she had a weird feeling as though she was being watched.

Before she had time to react, she was hanging just above the ground sharp teeth cutting into her side as she screamed to no effect for the animal to drop her, it shook her the way a dog would shake its prey to kill it, showing no sign of letting her go. She would have sworn she heard a crack of bone, but she couldn't be sure because her whole body felt like one giant punching bag. She called out for help again and again, but it was useless, no one would hear her out here, no one came along here, and for good reason she thought as she let her body go lump, accepting her fate.

Raul and his two betas- one of his brothers Peter and his friend Connor were nearly finished with their evening perimeter run of their lands when they heard it. The unmistakable rumble of growling in the distance. None of the three men recognised the tone, meaning it wasn't one (or several) of their own, which only left one other possibility-rogues.

They listened for a minute before they heard the sound of a woman shouting, begging for help over and over again before just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The three wolves looked at one another before sprinting for the eastern boundary by Old Station Bridge. If there was a human,they were in trouble, there was no way a human could win against one rogue, let alone multiple.

Raul had dealt with his fair share of rogues in his short time as alpha, but nothing would prepare him for what they saw as they came to a stop by the bridge. A pack of 10 wolves were all circling a young brunette woman- from what Raul could see from the glimpses he was catching between the wall of wolves she around the same age as him and his brothers.

He made his way closer, careful not to bring attention to himself or his betas, he wanted the element of surprise.

He was just about to attack when the young woman looked up, as if she sensed help had come. What Raul wasn't expecting as the woman held his gaze was how it would make him feel. Initially Raul registered the terror and pain on the woman's face, the extreme helplessness, and then something hit him. It was the weirdest feeling- like warm tingling butterflies flooding Raul's entire body, his wolf- Knight- was restless, anxious really, begging to be let free, and then it happened, it clicked "Mate, mate, mate!" Knight shouted in Raul's head over and over again. There was a moment or two of elation where neither Raul or this unknown human girl moved before Raul was snapped back to reality by yet another growl from one of the rogues as they continued to circle and a small pitiful whimper from the girl.

There was no way he was going to let his mate get hurt he thought to himself as he lunged forward immediately knocking one of the wolves out of the way. Peter and Connor followed suit, just as easily dispensing another two wolves a good 10 metres from where they'd originally been. Though they got straight back up, poised to attack again.

Raul could see the girl clearly now that the circle had been broken and the sight pulled at his chest, though he wouldn't like to admit it.

The woman had a large gash on her temple which was trickling blood down the side of her head, dropping in a small pool on the ground, along with several puncture marks on her abdomen, which judging by the blood that had saturated her white shirt were deep, not to mention what looked like a very broken right wrist and scrapes covering just about every visible part of her body.

He could feel the anger rising him at what these low lives had done to the girl- his mate! His! Noone else's! And before he could think he was shifting ripping a pair of pants out of the nearest tree (thank the Lord the whole perimeter of their lands had stashes of clothes) and was running over to her.

A deep gutteral growl left his lips, stopping everyone in their tracks.

Even Peter and Connor stopped, they all knew what that growl meant, it was the possessive growl of a mated wolf warning everyone and everything in it's way to stay away- or else.

The girl flinched as Raul continued to growl as the rogues slowly backed up,clearing a path for him to get to her.

"Don't touch me," she begged, eyes wide with fear as she tried to shuffle backwards away from Raul as he bent down in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Raul spoke gruffly. "I'm trying to help you stop fighting me!" he grumbled, swinging her up into his arms effortlessly as she tried to push against him.

The way she sobbed as he moved her pulled at his heartstrings he had to admit, but right now he had a mission, get her to Shawn his other identical brother and one of the pack doctors before she past out or bled out.

"Let me go." she smacked his chest weakly,making absolutely no impact. Infact Raul barely felt it.

"Stop fighting me!" Raul snapped, feeling frustrated as he ran as fast as his legs would take him in the direction of home.

"I don't even know you! I want to go home!" the girl continued to struggle despite her injuries.

Peter who had been running behind Raul with Connor (both of whom must have shifted without Raul even realising) spoke up.

"Raul, look at her, she's terrified and in pain." Raul could tell without even looking at him that he felt bad for her, he was always such a softie, whereas Raul would rather be tactless and keep his mate alive than worry about being a gentleman.

Raul halted causing Peter to crash into him mid-step.

"Look Peter, I can either do as she asks, or I can save her life, which do you think I'm gonna choose?" he asked pointedly, glaring at his younger brother. He should know what was at stake here, afterall he'd found his mate Betty 6 months before and was absolutely besotted.

"I'm not saying you're not doing the right thing." Peter tried to backpedal. "Just maybe be a little nicer, a little more understanding, think about how you'd feel if you were in her position. She's human. Attacked by rogues and then some strange guy who also happens to be a wolf comes and picks you up and snaps at you when you try to defend yourself as you would."

"I'm trying to help her," Raul snapped again, glaring still.

"I know you are," Peter smiled sympathetically, "all I'm saying is maybe watch your tone."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, looking down at the crying girl in his arms. "My name's Raul, I know you're scared but if you don't let me help you won't be alive to go home," he explained impatiently, still walking.

"But you're a wolf. Why would you help me?" The confusion in her voice genuinely surprised him.

"Not all of us are big bad wolves," he answered, not disclosing the real reason. She was quiet for a minute except for the occasional hiss from pain.

"You are." she looked up at him waiting for a response, but Raul was so shocked that all he could do was laugh.

"You might be right you know."

...

By the time they made it to the pack house the girl, his mate had become lethargic and non- talkative. Raul wouldn't let it show, but he was really starting to panic. When he'd thought so many times before about the possibility of meeting his mate, this was so not what he'd imagined. But here he was carrying a half- limp woman with potentially life-threatening injuries through his house with everyone they came across giving him the same look of shock and confusion.

Peter and Connor had disappeared to put a search party together to deal with the rogues in question. Raul had really been quite forgiving of them over the two years he'd been in charge, but this, this was too far, this he would not forgive, he'd hunt them for the rest of his days if that's what it took to get revenge.

He would never forgive them for what they'd done to his mate. Never.

He made his way up the stairs that led to the pack hospital quicky- it had been decided when he became alpha that a whole floor of the pack house (it was a mansion really if you took the size into account) would be turned into something of a hospital. Not only was it more convenient for everyone in the pack house- rather than going to a GP or hospital they could simply walk upstairs and be seen by a doctor nearly straight away, but it was practical for all the times when werewolves would come home injured from fights or assignments and need immediate medical care. As this woman did now. When Raul reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner to the door of the hospital he was met with a wall of people and even more curious eyes. Everyone seemed shocked to see their alpha- usually so tough and strong carrying a semi conscious woman as though she might break at any moment.

"Out of the way, fucking move!" he yelled, causing her to whimper as the sound sent shock waves through her skull. Everyone scurried, heads down not game to look their alpha in the eye. They knew just from his stance, let alone his tone that he wasn't kidding around.

"Shawn get your arse in here!" he called as he pushed his way through another door and into the consultation area.

He made his way over to a bed, putting her down as gently as he could, but she still gave a whine of discomfort.

Whether in a half-delirious state or simply trying to distance herself from him, she made a move to try and get off the bed almost immediately but he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay," he spoke, a little too harshly, instantly regretting it when he saw her bottom lip quiver slightly. "Sorry," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Who's this?" Shawn asked walking through the door a moment later, he looked between Raul and the young woman on the bed. Up close Raul could see just how pretty she was, chocolate brown eyes and a few freckles here and there. She was perfect he thought.

"Took you long enough," Raul grouched "She's my mate," he spoke quickly, watching as both Shawn and the woman's eyes went wide. Shawn was the first to recover, nodding and waiting for his brother to go on as though he hadn't just mentioned something totally life changing.

"She was attacked by rogues. I'm going to fucking kill them!" he fumed pacing the area.

...

As soon as Violet heard the word 'mate' she began to freak out, her breathing became laboured. She couldn't help but claw at her throat in a desperate attempt to get air. She couldn't have this jerk as a mate, she couldn't leave her home to live with a pack of wolves, she wouldn't.

Shawn rushed over grabbing an oxygen mask and gently placing it on her face.

"That's it, nice slow breathes, you're okay," he encouraged as Raul looked on helplessly.

"Raul, get outside, cool off, you're terrifying her. Look at her," he spoke not bothering to look at his brother, still trying to coax Violet into a semi-normal breathing pattern.

Ordinarily, Raul would have kicked Shawn's arse from here to Mars for talking to him like that, but when he turned to face his mate and saw the tears of fright rolling down her face, the way she clung to his brother's hand, he was brought back to the present. Of course he could be hot-headed and he had a reputation to uphold, but that didn't mean he wanted his mate to be scared of him. Hell that was the last thing he wanted.

"Sorry," he muttered, pushing past Shawn and walking out the door.

They heard a crash of what sounded like a vase, causing Violet to jump again.

"Sorry about him," Shawn apologised. "I promise, he's really not that bad, he's a big softie really, he just gets protective of his loved ones and doesn't necessarily deal with the emotion the best way. I'm Shawn by the way," he smiled.

"V-violet," She looked at him still unsure.

"Can I have a look at your injuries?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," she answered.

He smiled before carefully assessing the surface injuries. Violet was relieved to hear that the bite wounds although nasty weren't life-threatening and would heal 'just fine' although he did get Violet to hold a piece of gauze over the area while he went about setting her up with different what felt like a 100 different leads so he could track her vitals.

"I'm just going to get you hooked up to a few monitors okay. They won't hurt, they're just so I can keep track of your heart rate and oxygen levels, things like that okay?"

She nodded, and Shawn went about making sure the slightly insane amount of leads were properly attached, before coming back over to the bed and pulling a penlight from his breast pocket.

"Looks like you gave yourself a nasty whack here," he commented, trying to be a bit more casual about it to put her at ease.

"Follow my finger," he asked as he turned the light on and shone it towards Violet, immediately making her want to recoil. "Do you remember what day it is?" he asked with a small frown, as he pocketed the light once again.

"Saturday?" she answered feeling very unsure.

"Yeah it is," Shawn smiled sympathetically at her obvious confusion and fear.

Things were quiet for a while except for the rhythmic beeping of the machines attached to Violet which were starting to lull her into sleep

"Knock, knock?" someone tapped at the door gently startling Violet, before a man who looked almost exactly the same as Shawn, except with shorter hair poked his head into the room." Hey, I just came to see how you were? The others just left to track the wolves that attacked you and Raul's downstairs sulking," he smiled as he stepped into the room, dodging Shawn who was now busy getting supplies out to deal with the nasty and numerous wounds covering Violet's body. "I'm Peter," he held out a hand.

She smiled,holding out her left non- injured hand, "Violet."

Shawn walked back over to the bed carrying a load of medical supplies which he placed on the bed beside Violet, it made her feel a bit sick thinking about it, there were bottles of disinfectant, scissors,wipes, packets of what looked like needles and tubing, sheets of protective paper and gloves.

"Try not to focus on what I'm doing, why don't you talk to Peter while I work?" he suggested, kicking a rolling stool in Peter's direction which he sat on before following suit on his own one. "I need to start an I.V. with some antibiotics okay?" he added, before picking up a packet from the bed and ripping it open.

Violet stiffened as what Shawn had said sunk in, an I.V. meant, a needle and Violet was no good with needles, the last time she had to have one she fainted in the reception area of her doctor's.

"It's okay," Shawn tried to calm her, but he could tell that she was only becoming more and more uptight.

"Hold Peter's hand if you want," Shawn suggested seeing the tears pooling in her eyes.

She took Peter's hand immediately in her good one and Shawn went about positioning her arm for the I.V., wiping her arm before lining the needle up and looking up at her. "Sharp scratch," he warned before inserting the needle quickly, but carefully.

She jumped slightly, and gave a small whimper, but overall, she thought, it wasn't too bad.

"There all done," Shawn smiled, getting up to discard the waste into a special bin. "How's your pain? I'm going to give you a local anesthetic when I clean your abdomen and head up, but I can give you a dose of pain relief if you need it," he offered.

"Please," she nodded, a few tears falling down her face.

Shawn nodded again going to get the pain relief when there was another knock on the door, this one was harder than when Peter had knocked to come in. The door opened and Raul came in, not waiting to be invited. Violet noticed straight away how much calmer he looked.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Shawn walked back into the room, stopping when he saw Rau in the doorway.

"You can come in if you're calm enough," Shawn invited him, promoting Raul to step fully into the room and close the door behind him.

"Raul, this is Violet."

Raul smiled a really genuine smile and Violet couldn't help but notice, now that he wasn't being a totally arse, just how handsome he was, how handsome all three of them were- Raul, Shawn and Peter. They were all well built, and extremely tall- towering over Violet's 5'2" frame, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Raul was by far the most well built and intimidating with a sleeve of tattoos covering his arm and right hand as few scattered on his neck. Up close Violet could see the lip and ear piercings that only added to the tough almost gothic look. The smile on his face a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

...

Raul made his way over to the bed slowly, carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was scare Violet anymore than he already had. He wanted to show her the softer side of him, the side that would do anything for his mate, the side that was fiercely protective and loyal. Not the arsehole he showed her when they first met.

Peter stood up and smiled before leaving the room, the rolling stool now vacant. Raul took the opportunity to sit down, still looking at this young woman in awe.

"I'm sorry I was an arse to you," he apologised, looking down at his hands.

Violet didn't say anything, but when Raul looked up, she nodded softly signalling she'd heard him.

"Violet I'm going to start stitching your head up now okay?" Shawn interrupted their little moment.

Raul could see the panic on Violet's face as Shawn spoke and wanted so badly to comfort her, but he wasn't sure how. He felt so much pity and protectiveness at his tiny mate laying helplessly on the bed as Shawn tended to her injuries.

...

"Can I, can I hold your hand?" The softness and tentiveness of the question was so unlike Raul that both Violet and Shawn stopped, stunned momentarily. As much as Violet wanted to say no, just to prove a point that you don't get to be a complete jerk and then backflip and suddenly everything was okay again, she had to admit that an odd sense of calm had washed over her since Raul had entered the room.

She nodded again and he immediately took her hand carefully, sending shockwaves of tingles up both of their bodies. She looked at him panicked, but he just smiled reassuringly, before speaking, "It's the mate connection," he murmured, squeezing her hand gently. It felt odd to be holding someone's hand that she'd barely met and that had been so cold to her previously and yet, it felt so right.

Her thought train was interrupted by a sharp prick and then an intense stinging started on she forehead, before Shawn was pulling up her top revealing the wounds that she'd been holding pressure on. "Deep breath," Shawn warned this time before yet another prick and more stinging, the process was repeating a further two times before he discarded the needle.

"Oww, it's stinging," she whimpered.

"Shawn why'd you have to hurt her!" Raul half growled, though it was nothing on what he'd been like earlier.

"I'm not trying to, I promise, unfortunately it can be a side effect of the anesthetic. It shouldn't last long."

After she was stitched up,and her broken wrist x-rayed and plastered the two men left her to have a moment alone while they spoke outside.

"How bad?" Raul asked folding his arms.

Shawn sighed, "She's badly banged up. She'll need to be on I.V.for at least 24 hours."

"I want her in my room," Raul demanded immediately.

"Did you hear what I said?" Shawn asked.

"Did you hear what I said?" He counted harshly.

"Fine," Shawn sighed. "'I'll set her up in your room. If she agrees."

Raul nodded, a smirk on his face. They both knew he'd won the battle and there was nothing Shawn could do about it.

By the way, what were you thinking, just picking her up and bringing her here before actually talking to her?" he shook his head. "She was terrified." Raul who could hear the disapproval in Shawn's voice didn't take lightly to being spoken to by one of his pack, let alone his own brother.

"One don't talk to me like that, ever again,I might be your brother, but I'm also your Alpha and two I'm sorry, but if I hadn't have done what I did, she would be dead. Maybe that makes me harsh or whatever but I'd rather save my mate and the future luna of our pack than worry about pleasentries."

Shawn wanted to say more, but knew better than to push Raul so he simply said "I'll talk to her about staying with you, stay here." Before he left,not waiting for his reply.

...

As Shawn had expected as soon as he mentioned the idea of being in Raul's room, she shot him down pointing out that while he'd been nice to her in the last 30 minutes or so, he'd been a total jerk previously and she didn't want to be stuck with thst.

"I know he wasn't the nicest to you," Shawn agreed, "But I promise he means well, he was stressed and frustrated. He's your mate, it's his job to love and protect you and trust me he will do anything to honour that, even if it means being a bit harsh sometimes. Plus being around him will help you heal quicker, it's something that your body will recognise subconsciously, even for you as a human. It's one of our weird werewolf things. Please," he put his hands together practically begging.

"Fine," she conceeded, but if he's even the slightest bit rude I'm outta there,"

"Deal."

Half an hour later and Violet was situated in the most comfortable bed she'd ever laid in, the smell of Raul (a mixture of Sandalwood and Musk) filling her senses. She had to admit it calmed her, despite her wariness towards him.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked leaning against the doorway arms folding a smile once again gracing his face, making him look so much less scary. She jumped slightly holding a hand to her chest.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he apologised and something in the way he said it told her he wasn't just apologising for now.

"S'okay," she yawned, "but you have zero tact you know," she laughed as he frowned.

"I'm Raul Mendes, alpha of the largest pack in Canada,I can be mean, I can be ruthless,I also protect the ones I love with everything I have. But who said anything about tact? Cause it definitely wasn't me," he laughed, coming over to sit on the bed next to her, careful not to invade her space. As Violet drifted into a dream-state she could have sworn she heard him say "Sleep well, little mate," but of course when she questioned him on it the next day Raul would deny it till he was blue, well red in the face- with embarrassment that is. Maybe he wasn't such a big bad wolf afterall Violet thought.

#raul mendes #raul has zero tact #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #doctor!shawn #mendes triplets #werewolf!shawn #peter mendes #shawnblr

[bratconnor]

Connor being turned on by Markus' strong hands and having them in his mouth especially as Markus fucks him over.

mmmmm, i think we can all agree that 💕Markus' Hands💕

thank you for the lovely 11/10 prompt anon, i had such fun✨

CW: explicit, trans!connor, feminine anatomy (cunt, clit)

--

Connor swallows down the excess cleaning fluid that's pooling in his mouth for the fifth time in ten minutes, resisting yet another urge to squirm in his seat as he sits with North, Josh, and Simon at the Jericho Leaders' round table for their weekly meeting. Markus is standing at the head of the table, talking them through some issues brought forward democratically by the New Jericho residents, and is gesturing elaborately with his hands all the while. His beautiful, strong, capable hands. Wide, square palms and thick, elegant fingers that curl artfully as he gestures. Hardworking artist's hands. Connor knows the feeling that each artificial callous gives him when those hands brush down his chest, around his waist, up his thighs. When those fingers trace his jaw to his lips and delve into his mouth. Those hands know all of Connor's most sensitive areas.

Connor hasn't been able to take his eyes off of Markus' hands for the entire meeting. He's been passively registering the information to his databanks-- the perks of being an android-- but hasn't yet found the will to contribute to the discussion, chin resting in his palm and eyes half-lidded. He's fairly certain he may be acting a tad obvious, but no one's said anything and he doesn't really care. He and Markus haven't had sex in days. It tends to happen, Markus hits walls of work on a fairly regular basis, and Connor is more than happy to help him where he can and provide him loving affection when he comes back home late and exhausted. But rA9, he feels like he's going to go insane. He misses Markus' hands on him, his fingers in him. His cock is nice too, oh definitely, but his hands are so capable, so strong and sure... and when Connor gets to have both Markus' fingers and his cock at once, it's rare that he doesn't short circuit at least once through their lovemaking.

Connor realizes a bit too late that he's started to push the tips of his own fingers, originally fanned across his cheek, into his mouth, running his tongue just barely across them as he stares at Markus' fingers and pictures doing it to them. He pictures two of them sliding to the back of his mouth and scratching down his tongue, stopping to hook behind his teeth, and has to stop himself from humming out loud, but unable to stop from slightly grinding his cunt down into his seat and playing it off as simply adjusting his posture. He's dangerously close to activating his self-lubrication, and pulls his fingertips back out of his mouth as excess cleaning fluid once again threatens to dribble past his lips.

Connor has admittedly zoned out a bit, and when he focuses in again, intending on going back to staring at Markus' beautifully expressive hands, he finds that Markus is staring right at him, hands frozen mid-gesture and a hesitant look on his face, yet his sage and aqua eyes hold an intense look in them. He must have only paused for an indiscernible moment, because he carries on when Connor's eyes find his, and no one else seems to react. Connor feels his face starting to flush cornflower blue, but he valiantly ignores it as he satisfies himself with watching Markus gesture about for the rest of the meeting and admires him pretty face, his broad shoulders, and of course his graceful hands, and really wishes that they could have sex. Maybe right on this table. It wouldn't be the first time. Connor swallows and shifts again, folding his hands in his lap and pressing them down against his throbbing clit as if that'll help.

When the meeting is over, Markus says, "Connor, can you stay back for a moment?", and for some reason even those simple words make him throb in his pants. He remains seated until the rest of the Leaders have left to their own tasks, and casts Markus a sheepish look from beneath his lashes as the RK200 presses his knuckles into the table top, leaning on them as he raises an eyebrow at Connor. Oh rA9, his forearms are bare and look so enticing, bunched with artificial muscle. Connor carefully licks his lips and drags his eyes back up to Markus'. He feels a bit disrespectful at this point, ogling Markus' body like an animal would a piece of prime meat, but he's so fucking high strung and horny that it's almost involuntary.

"You seemed a bit distracted today, darling," Markus notes, smiling crookedly. "Is there something on your mind?" So sweet, worrying about him.

Connor returns the smile, but it's brittle as he feels such a deep yearning at being called the pet name. He wants Markus to hold him. And also hold him down on this table, cock in his cunt-- or his ass-- and fingers shoved to the knuckle down his throat. But he knows Markus still has a lot to do today, and that he's wasting precious time even having this moment with Connor.

"You," bursts out of Connor's mouth before he can stop it. Markus looks confused, so Connor clarifies, "You're on my mind."

Markus' smile grows to become bright and genuine, so dazzling on his pretty face. He straightens up and makes his way around the table, and Connor stands up so he can meet Markus head on. Markus takes one of Connor's hands between his own and lifts it to kiss, grinning at Connor as he does. "You flirt," he teases.

Connor watches the way Markus' hands wrap around his, feels the strength in them, admires the contrasting shades of their synth skin. He swallows hard, lashes fluttering at the warmth of Markus' hands and his soft lips. He lets out a soft hum of pleasure.

"I miss you," Connor murmurs. "...I want you."

Markus draws in a sharp breath, his eyes going intent again in that way that makes Connor feel weak like he's running on low power.

"I," Markus begins, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. He looks so tired and so apologetic, and Connor aches a bit.

He takes one of Markus' wrists between both hands, pressing Markus' hand to his neck, dragging it up until he can lick delicately at Markus' fingers, testing. Markus shudders, seeming to have forgotten where he is as his mismatched eyes focus intently on Connor's mouth. He doesn't object.

Connor draws Markus' index finger between his lips, slowly sliding it deeper until Markus' knuckles are pressed against his lips. He sucks softly on the digit, and Markus releases another sharp breath like he's been winded, though that isn't possible.

Connor draws Markus' finger back out slowly, sucking the entire time, and then he presses his cheek into Markus' warm, wide, calloused palm, humming again. "I really want you," he murmurs. "I want you so bad, Markus."

Markus is silent for a long moment, and Connor can't read his facial expression, but his stress levels have shot up a significant amount. Connor starts to feel bad-- Markus is stressed enough as it is-- and begins to pull away, cheeks colouring from embarrassment this time, and he opens his mouth to apologize.

Markus takes that opportunity to push two of his fingers past Connor’s parted lips, his other hand reaching forward to firmly clasp Connor’s cunt, fingers pressing against Connor’s entrance while his palm grinds into Connor’s clit. He presses his own hips into Connor’s and has him pinned to the table, eyes burning with desire. The sudden pressure on his cunt and in his mouth makes Connor moan out, and he stares with wide doe eyes, lashes shivering, at Markus’ apertures adjusting as he gazes back at him.

“So this is what you were so distracted about,” Markus says, sounding vaguely amused and not so vaguely yearning. Connor shudders, eyes going hooded, still clinging to Markus’ wrist.

But Markus draws his fingers back out of Connor’s mouth, rubbing along his tongue on the way out, and Connor fights back another moan.

“I was thinking of your hands,” he divulges, unsure why he’s doing it. “They’re…” he whines under his breath as Markus strokes fingertips along Connor’s entrance, hand still between his legs. “They’re so… strong, and elegant.”

Markus seems amused. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” Connor nods intently. “I love how you use them when you’re talking.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you.”

“It’s distracting.”

Markus chuckles, visibly regaining control of himself, and finally pulls his hand away from Connor’s crotch, both hands moving to slide around Connor’s waist and press into the small of his back instead. Connor wants to whine at the loss, but at the same time he’s relieved. This is not the place for it. He’s also a bit embarrassed at having been caught, unable to meet Markus’ eyes as his cheeks stain blue.

“I apologize for that.” Markus leans in and kisses Connor gently. Connor returns the kiss, resisting the urge to deepen it. He feels more worked up and frustrated than ever. “I promise, love, as soon as I can, I’ll put my hands wherever you want them.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Connor warns as Markus pulls away from him completely.

Markus smiles brightly, his eyes becoming playful. “I’d rather you hold me to you,” he says with a wink.

Connor huffs, bratty, and straightens out his clothes. “I wish you wouldn’t tease me,” he gripes.

Markus immediately frowns at that, clasping Connor’s face between his wonderful hands. “I really don’t mean to,” he says apologetically. “I promise, I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’ll try to be as early as I can.”

Connor feels himself relax a little with those words. “I look forward to it,” he says softly. “I love you.”

Markus kisses him again, smiling gently as he pulls away. “I love you too, Connor.”

#requests #rk1k #ask answer #trans implied

[rory-for-short]

We are not our Parents| Part Six

Chandeliers and Secrets

Richard Grayson had cleaned up nicely. His hair a tad less wild, his aftershave on his face and neck making him smell like sandlewood, and the beautiful black wool suit had him looking like James Bond. He had added a deep purple tie and pocket square to match with Lucy. When he opened his door to meet her in the hallway, he watched nervously as she took him all in. He was like a daydreams she'd have about Superman as a kid, only better. She forgot how to breath for a moment.

"Alright, take a picture, it'll last longer," He joked at his girlfriend's starry eyed gaze. Just then a voice that didn't belong to either of them chimed in.

"Brilliant idea, master Grayson, I was just readying the old Kodak," Alfred quipped holding up a proper photography grade camera in front of his face. "Remember the old prom pose is a classic."

The two started to pose in the most contrasting way, given their attire. Lucy threw one of her hands into a love sign, hand on her hips, head tilted and winking. Dick had his tongue stuck out at the Camara and was giving Lucy bunnie ears.

"Lovely," Alfred responded dryly to their hijinks. They giggled and headed to the front of the mannor, before being stopped by Alfred.

"Your father wanted me to inform you that the two of you will be sharing his limo," he informed. Dick froze up and turned to Alfred with a shoked and indignant look on his face. He looked like a child being told it was bed time, or that he couldn't have friends over.

"-And before you say anything I'll get the whole tantrum out of the way: no Tim and Conner don't have to, yes its unfair, life tends to be very unfair, put up with it for one night, you will live," Alfred directed before taking his leave. Lucy looked up at her boyfriend's face, he was stoic and tired looking. She knew his dad had, well, control issues from what she was told by him. She grabbed his arm lightly as to avoid making him jump or tense like he always did. She knew he was adopted. She wondered what happened to his boilogical parents, and if that’s why he always startled, but she wouldn't press or ask. He'd tell her when he was ready... until then it was her job to keep him comfortable.

"Well if it's any consolation, I aways wanted to meet Bruce Wayne," she smiled softy. It was the only soft smile from her he had ever seen. And it was for him.

When they reached the stairs and could see into the foyer, they could see Bruce adjusting his own tie in one of the antique mirrors. Connor was trying to fix his pocket square and Tim was fussing over his hair.

"Are you all ready to par-tayyy!?" Dick hyped as they neared the bottom of the stairs case.

"Yeet," Tim's equally hyped response echoed. Conner glared at him, and Grayson knew it was because he had a hard enough time without his brother being loud while he had super hearing. Bruce turned his attention from the mirror and to the couple that had just entered and Dick could feel his stomach in knots.

"Dad this is my girlfriend Lucy Fleck. Lucy, this is my dad," he managed the best he could with the tense interductions. Lucy immediately stuck her hand out at an accute angle, fingers splayed from eachother, limp wristed, and grin wild. It was a gesture they had all seen before. She was waiting for a hand shake, but the way she looked. The way she moved. It was hard to explain, but her interduction body language screamed "Joker making a deal."

"Hiya, Mr. Wayne, its a pleasure to meet'cha," she declared. Dick relized at that moment that just because he was use to her Lucy-izims, didn't mean anyone else was. The purple probably wasn't helping their case. If Bruce noticed, he made no indication that it bothered him. He shook her hand and returned the sentiment. Tim and Connor were headed out the door already, happy with the distraction. They were probably planning on going in a different car then them. Which was smart. Dick knew he was about to hate this car-ride to the benefit.

Lucy was funny. What started with normal introductions and small talk turned into an anti~joke off in the back of the limo, with Bruce doing little to hide how amusing he found their stupid humor.

“Okay, what do you call a cow with no legs?” Lucy prompted.

“Ground beef,” Grayson said rolling his eyes.

“No, actually it doesn’t matter what you call him, he won’t be able to come to you anyway,” she laughed.

“Oh. My. God” Graysons eyes went wide but laughed despite himself. Bruce chimed in.

“Here’s one. What do you get when you cross a chicken and a hog” Bruce started.

“I don’t know, what?” Lucy answered.

“A media frenzy on the ethics of making hybrid animals.”

There was a beat of silence followed by sudden complete laughter from the two twenty somethings. That’s pretty much how the entire ride went. Just the three of them telling their best bad jokes. The laughter did everything to ease the tension an the limo was outside the banquet hall in no time. Dick had gotten out from his side to let Lucy out. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as he opened her door and took her hand in his. The blinding lights of the press, the loud chatter surrounding them; it was like a red carpet event, but sad and depressing because it was outside the sad gothic erection of the Gotham City Hall. She instinctively shielded her eyes as she stood beside her boyfriend and his father, who were able to inhumanly smile with clear eyes despite the visual assault. She hooked arms with Dick and he grabbed the hand she was shielding the lights with gently and walked slightly in front of her to help protect her eyes. She could hear the reporters asking a million questions.

“Mr. Wayne, is it true you are partnering with the Metropolis press and if so, don’t you think it is rather unethical for billionaires to have control of the media?”

“Richard Wayne, is it true that you use to be an acrobat.”

“Mr. Wayne, what are your thoughts on the current emphasis for planetary spending and is that something you are considering?”

“Richard Wayne, is that your new partner, or are we just having fun with a friend tonight?”

Bruce had actually stopped to answer the ones directed at him which, gave Lucy and is son the chance to hurry into the opulent building. They dashed in and took in the architecture. White marble floors that transitioned into mahogany carpeting. The banquet hall was lit with small chandeliers rather than one large one. Lucy felt a little ill at that reminder. There was chatter in the hall and a small wooden podium. As they passed people chattering, Lucy couldn’t help but feel their eyes on her. She glanced around nervously. Sometimes she’d catch eyes with someone and they’d look away.

‘Don’t be paranoid’ she thought to herself, ‘they are sizing you up because of the man on your arm being a billionaires son and well known batchlor. No other reason’. Dick must have noticed her tight grip on his arm. He turned to murmur to her,

“I know I didn’t say it earlier with Bruce and Alfred around, but you look magnificent,” he smiled at her.

“Really?” She whispered with a grin.

“Truly. I don’t know a lot of things, but I know a work of art when I see one,” he smirked. She blushed and pushed his arm with a roll of her eyes. Their beautiful moment was quickly interrupted.

“Richard Wayne, you and your lovely date are seated over here,” the waiter gestured. He let them to an empty table that could comfortably fit about 10 people at it. It was covered with a lush white table cloth and had cards with their names for seating. Dick noticed he had his full name and Lucy had “L.F.” on her card. Say what you will about Bruce, but he’s always been a pro at hiding identities, and they were both grateful for it. As they sat in their seats, Lucy’s expression was strange and contemplative.

“Nickel for your thoughts,” Dick prompted.

“I thought it was penny?”

“It is but as a billionaire my thought taxes are higher.”

She laughed and gave a small shrug before looking into his eyes with a guilty look.

“ Your dad knows who I am, doesn’t he?” It was more of a statement then a question. Dick was caught off guard, for once. He didn’t really think too much about it until then, but if he was in her position, he realized how crushing that would feel. For your partners parents to know the darkest secrets of your past. As her eyes still bore into him, he carefully answered best he could.

“ I mean, I had to warn him before hand, just to make sure we did everything we could to keep you safe. As much as you deserve a spotlight, I know you wanted to lay low,” he carefully explained. She smiled.

“So when he found out... was he mad?” she asked sheepishly. Dick hesitated in his response weighing what to say. It was all a lie. Bruce had told HIM. But he couldn’t really say “Batman, my adoptive father, told me and had me wear a wire to a date to make sure you weren’t in cahoots with your recently escaped convict dad that ruined your life. You know. The night we hooked up”. And he felt vile realizing one day he might have to confront her with this and potentially loose her. He felt more vile fore thinking about how the truth effected him before her. But for now, the goal was to have an easy night where she had fun. Oh boy, he was going to have to get his therapist to sign an NDA.

“He wasn’t mad, just concerned. For us mostly. In the public eye, and he said it’s selfish of me to put you in it after all you went through,” and that much was true. Lucy visibly relaxed. She then leaned in closer and talked a little more hushed.

“Hey, do you know what happened to the original chandelier in here?” She asked pointing to a risen spot in the ceiling where it use to hang from. He knew. He was there, he said nothing and continued looking at her for her explanation.

“My mom and dad tried to drop it on a table that had two prime ministers and the commissioner seated at it. Batman managed to figure it out but not before the chain was undone by D-, er, Joker. According to the police report he held the chain and kept it suspended long enough for everyone below it to scatter. Can you imagine? Holding 350 pounds of diamonds from crushing people?” She explained with her wild eyes. He could though. He had his hands wrapped around her mother's neck when it happened.

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked nervously.

“So you know what you are up against. Everyone in here knows that story. If they ever find out I’m, yah know, me, they will look at you the same way you looked at me just now. Weary, and uncomfortable,” she stated dryly.

“My dad hit Superman with his car one time,” he retorted. This caused Lucy to give him a baffled look. “Oh I’m sorry, I thought we were telling pointless stories about our parents that don’t effect either party in anyway,” he quipped with his signature disarming smile. She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Babe, I’m serious!” She giggled. Just then the waiter brought another two over to the table. The Kents. Louis and Clark to be exact. Wait, Dick just now got that. The were seated somewhat across from them.

“Hey sport,” Clark greeted his coworker’s son. Louise gave a little wave. “I see you have a friend with you for once, decided that the sad loner thing looked better on your dad?” He joked. Grayson genuinely laughed. He got along well with Superman, because he had a tendency to call out Bruce. A lot. Every time there was a justice league dispute, he secretly sided with Clark. Sometimes because he truly agreed. Sometimes just because he could.

“Lucy, these are my Dad’s friends, Clark and Louis. They work for the daily planet,” he explained.

Lucy noted the classically beautiful woman, and the attractive man. Not anything compared to Dick though. He looked a little dorkier than her Adonis of a boyfriend. Then again, her rose colored glasses made everything about Richard Grayson much better than everyone else.

“Nice to meet you two,” she announced.

That’s how the majority of the banquet went on. Some of his dad's business associates, some of his side business associates, introductions, surface level conversations, and food. Dick noticed that Connor and him were seated elsewhere. He was sure Tim felt fortunate that he didn’t have to sit with Connor’s father. Bruce had yet to be seated. He was up and working the room. Shaking hands. Smiling. It was strange how fake it seemed. Sometimes he couldn’t tell witch was the real Bruce. And given his own struggles to understand which of his alter egos he truly was, he guessed that Bruce didn’t know either.

#fanfic #fanfiction #bat famfanfic #batfam #batman #nightwing #lucy flek #lucy quinzel #lucy x dick #dick grayson #dick grayson x lucy #alfred pennyworth #tim x connor #tim drake #clark kent #superman

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [10]

x. i am become death

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of blood/wounds, scary bleeding fever courtesy of the Grounders, puking, mentions of torture, death, fighting, the usual.

Summary: Murphy’s return to camp brings a hemorrhagic fever that weakens and infects most of the 100 as the Grounders prepare for war.

a/n: I am sad today and I feel like posting a new chapter so here u go, pls enjoy. I will be returning to my sadness cocoon now. also yes, the taglist is OPEN!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

It’s hard not to choke up at the sight of the wreckage, spread out over the expanse of the valley, littered with burnt skeletons that still release smoke into the air. Your eyes scan each body, looking for any sign of her, and you know that Clarke is nearby doing the same. You can see her lip quivering as she checks each body, and you start to move closer to comfort her when you see it.

It catches the afternoon sun, glinting back at you. You kneel down and sweep some of the ash away, lifting the chain to reveal a small metal sun, the only jewelry that your mother ever wore. You lift your eyes back to Clarke, not quite ready to expose her to this, and let out a sigh of relief when you see her looking at something else. A voice behind you nearly makes you jump from your skin. “What is that?”

You spin around quickly, closing your hand around the necklace to hide it from his view. Bellamy gives you a weird look as you whisper, “Nothing.”

His eyes flash back down to your hand and then meet your own, and he mutters, “If you say so.” He turns and addresses the teenagers on guard duty, "Stay sharp. Grounder retaliation for what happened on the bridge is coming, just a matter of when."

Finn offers a glare, "Can you blame them?"

"No. I blame you."

"Maybe if you didn't bring guns--"

Raven cuts Finn off, "If we didn't bring guns, we all would've been killed."

“Why they're coming doesn't matter anymore. It's our job to be ready when they do. We're on our own now."

A shudder passes through you, his words offering no comfort. On our own. Behind you, Raven yells your twin’s name. "Clarke, stop!"

You all follow her as she jogs over to Clarke, coming to a stop as she asks, “Rocket fuel?”

"Hydrazine...Highly unstable in its non solid form. If this stuff meets fire, we're all pink mist." She kneels down and dips a rock into the liquid, before standing and yelling out, "Fire in the hole!"

She tosses the rock over the ridge, into a pile of burning rubble, and an explosion immediately shakes the ground. She turns to Bellamy, "We need to clear the area."

"Okay, then. We move in formation, no straggling, weapons hot. We’ve got to get back before dark."

You pick through the woods quickly and quietly, sandwiched between Bellamy and Clarke, weaponless. He’d said something about emotions and weapons not mixing earlier, and you hadn’t had the energy to argue. But as night falls and you near the camp, you can tell that something is wrong. The teenagers are practically buzzing with energy, and your small group speeds up at the realization. You and Bellamy make it through the gates first, and someone yells at you as you pass through, “Murphy is back!”

You and Bellamy exchange a glance before you take off running, your feet pulling you past him and into the dropship first. Bellamy is yelling before he even makes it through the door. "Where is he?”

The crowd parts around him, revealing Murphy on the ground, bloodied, bruised, and shaking. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, and a mixture of guilt and pity courses through you, despite what he has done. 

“Everyone but Connor and Derek out...Now!”

The room clears, leaving only Connor, Derek, Murphy, Clarke, Finn, Bellamy, and you. Derek turns to Bellamy, "He claims he was with the Grounders."

"We caught him trying to sneak back into camp."

Murphy’s voice is quiet, lacking any of his usual anger. "I wasn't sneaking. I was running from the Grounders."

Bellamy scoffs, "Anyone see Grounders?"

"Uh-uh."

"Well, in that case--"

Bellamy lifts his gun, before it is shoved back down by Finn. "Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"We were clear what would happen if he came back."

As your eyes scan Murphy’s body, the cuts, the bruises, the torn clothing, your eyes land on his hands. Your brows furrow as you move closer, ignoring the arguing behind you. You drop to your knees beside him and he flinches away from you, but you lean closer, reaching out to lift his hands. You swallow bile down when you confirm that his nails have been ripped from his fingers. You cut off the group, turning to say Clarke’s name. Her eyes land on you and you lift his hand as she moves closer to investigate. You turn to the boys, “His fingernails were torn off. They tortured him.”

Finn mutters to Bellamy, "You and the Grounders should compare notes."

"The Grounders know we're at war. What did you tell them about us?"

Murphy’s eyes lift to Bellamy, nervous. "Everything."

Clarke’s hands lift to Murphy’s face, inspecting his injuries, before she drops them and steps away from him. You follow suit as she moves to Bellamy, "Once he's better, we find out what he knows, and then he's out of here, okay?"

Bellamy levels a glare at her. "What if he refuses to leave? What do we do with him then?"

"Then we kill him."

She pushes past him and leaves, and Finn is quick to follow. You step out into the cool night air, turning to look at Bellamy. “I’m gonna…” You trail off and nod towards your tree. 

He nods once and mutters, “Yeah. See you in the morning.”

-

You forget about the necklace in your pocket until morning, pulling it out to inspect it as dawn emerges. You brush your finger over the cool metal, shaking the memories of your mom out of your head. Now is not the time to mourn. As you start to close your hand and tuck it back into your pocket, a drop of blood lands in your palm. Confused, you reach up and brush your nose, finding nothing. You feel panic start to rise in your chest as a wetness tracks down your cheeks, from your eyes. You reach up and swipe at them, nearly falling from the tree in horror when your fingers come back stained red. 

You shove the necklace into your pocket and clumsily climb to the ground, realizing for the first time that you are feverish and shaky. You call for Clarke as your feet hit the ground, scanning the camp for her. She emerges from the communications tent, and you know you are wearing matching expressions of horror as you take in each other’s bloody eyes. Nearby, Connor and Derek call out for her, blood gushing from their noses at an alarming rate. You see the realization pass over her face at the same time you make the connection and whisper, “Murphy.” 

You tear through the camp and into the dropship, running and sliding up beside Murphy. He coughs and vomits blood beside you, and you snap at him, "Murphy, look at me. I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the Grounders. What happened?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know. I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off."

And you think of the Grounders, and all of their tactical ability and intelligence, and your stomach sinks to the floor. You turn your head and lock eyes with Clarke as she runs inside, “They let him go.”

She drops down beside you, and Bellamy enters the dropship. You turn to him and see his shock as he registers the blood around your eyes. You lift your hand as he gets closer, warning him. "Bellamy, stay back."

His voice is hard, "Did he do something to you? You shake your head, and his eyes drop to the pool of blood beside Murphy. "What the hell is this?"

Clarke mutters from beside you, "Biological warfare. You were waiting for the Grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it. Murphy is the weapon."

Bellamy steps towards Murphy, anger written all over his face. He looks ready to kill him on the spot. But Clarke holds up her hand. "Hey, don't. Whatever this thing is, it spreads through contact."

Before he can answer, Finn comes in, eyes immediately finding Clarke’s. "Clarke?"

Her voice shakes as she warns him, "Finn, you shouldn't be in here. No one should."

"I heard you were sick. Clarke, what is this?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know, some kind of hemorrhagic fever. We just need to contain it before--"

She cuts herself off as Derek retches from the other side of the room. You jump up and run to him, as his body shakes and seizes. You can hear Clarke running up behind you, warning Finn to keep back. You watch as Derek vomits blood one more time, and then drops to the floor, face down. You hesitate before leaning down and pressing your fingers to his pulse, freezing in place when you realize. Behind you, Bellamy starts, "Is he-"

You lock eyes with him. "He's dead."

Finn spins towards Clarke, "What do we do?"

"Quarantine. Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here."

Bellamy quips,  "And everyone they had contact with?"

"Well, we have to start somewhere. Connor, who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in? Think."

“The first one there was Octavia.”

Bellamy freezes and then runs from the dropship, returning minutes later with his little sister in tow. Clarke searches around for some cloth and rips it into pieces, giving it to you, herself, and then Bellamy so you can cover your mouths and limit the spread. Octavia stands in front of Clarke as she examines her, and all around you more sick delinquents are brought inside. With a satisfied nod, Clarke steps away. "Okay. We're done. No visible signs of swelling or bleeding."

"So you're saying she doesn't have it?"

Clarke sighs, "I'm saying she doesn't have symptoms, but that could change. We need to keep her here just in case."

He shakes his head, gesturing around. "No way. Look at this place. She'll get sick just being here."

"Do you want to stop the spread, or not? Look. I'll keep her on the third level with the people who aren't symptomatic yet. Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again."

Octavia turns and gives her a glare. "Screw you, Clarke."

"I'll let you know if her condition changes."

Bellamy sighs and nods once in agreement, turning to leave as Octavia starts to climb up the stairs to the third floor. Before she can, Clarke stops her. "Octavia, wait. I need you to sneak out again."

You miss the rest of the conversation, because you feel the room sway around you, before you feel yourself falling, plunging into the darkness around you. 

-

You wake, turn and vomit blood, and fall back into something soft, drifting off again as fingers push your hair off your face.

-

Your eyes open slowly, finding the world again, and your skin is sticky with sweat. You press your fingers to your forehead, relieved to find it cool to the touch. With a deep breath, you pull yourself up and look around, surprised to find yourself swinging slightly in a hammock. You turn and plant your feet on the floor, pleased that you can stand on steady legs. As you survey the room, you find almost everyone asleep, moaning in pain, or puking blood. Murphy runs around, helping people and getting water, and you open your mouth to question him when you hear a commotion outside. 

As you walk to the door, you can hear the panic of nearly 100 teenagers, screaming at others to get back. As a precaution, you grab the gun near the door, pulling back the parachute to reveal the camp in utter chaos. You lift the gun into the air and fire three shots, and stillness settles into the air. 

You see everyone turn towards you, and you walk down to the bottom of the ramp, past Clarke. You raise your voice so everyone can get the message. "This is exactly what the Grounders want. Don't you see that? They don't have to kill us if we kill each other first."

A guy steps from the group, lifting his gun towards you, aiming for the center of your chest. "They won't have to kill us if we all catch the virus. Get back in the damn dropship!"

Before you can react, Bellamy steps up to the guy, pulls the gun from his grasp, and hits him in the throat, effectively shutting him up. You nod your thanks, as you hear an odd sound from behind you. You turn just in time to see Clarke starting to fall, and Finn rushes up to catch her. Raven yells out, "Finn, don't touch her!"

Clarke’s voice is weak as you step closer, "Hey, let me go. I'm okay."

"No, you're not."

"Octavia will come back with a cure."

Octavia’s voice cuts through the crowd. "There is no cure...But the Grounders don't use the sickness to kill."

"Really?” You can hear the sarcasm dripping from Bellamy’s voice. “Tell that to them. I warned you about seeing that Grounder again."

"Yeah? Well, I have a warning for you, too. The Grounders are coming... and they're attacking at first light." She steps past him, and up to Finn. "Come on. I'll help you get Clarke into the dropship."

You give Bellamy one last look before following them inside, and pointing Finn towards your now empty hammock. “You can put her there.”

He sets her gently into the hammock as you grab a rag, wiping the sweat from your twin’s brow. She gives you a weak smile, as Finn turns to Octavia. "What else did Lincoln tell you?"

"The virus doesn't last long."

You turn to them, “It’s true, I feel a lot better.” 

Clarke tries to stand. "They need to stay hydrated."

"You need to stay hydrated."

Octavia hands Clarke a drink and she takes a long sip before handing it back, "Okay. Them, too. Please?"

She nods, "It's okay. I'll do it. Just rest."

Murphy jumps up from across the room, "I'll help you." He surveys the room and offers a hard truth, "Look. At this rate, when the Grounders get here, there won't be anyone left to fight back."

Octavia cuts him a glare, "That's the point."

You watch an idea pass Finn’s face, "Then we slow them down."

And then he turns to leave. Clarke watches him with an uncomfortable look, and you put a comforting hand on her arm. “"If he's not sick by now, then he's probably immune like Octavia." She nods, and you push her hair back from her forehead, remembering that it was likely her that did the same for you. “Sleep. It helps.”

She turns her head and drifts off quickly, and you stand watching her for a long time, before jumping up to help Octavia and Murphy care for the others. Hours later, you are taking a quick break, on your knees next to Clarke, watching as she shifts in her sleep. You reach up to wipe the sweat from her forehead, brows lifting in alarm as you register her fever. She wakes up retching, and you help turn her to her side, watching as blood spills over the hammock and onto the floor. 

When she stills, you lay her back down, and grab her hand, lacing her fingers with yours. You finally realize you’re crying, and you watch as tears land on the fabric around her. With your free hand you reach into your pocket and pull out the necklace, which you wrap around her hand and rest in her palm before reconnecting your fingers. You let out a quiet sob and whisper, “I didn’t want to show you earlier, because I didn’t want to upset you. But now...I found mom’s necklace, Clarke. And I just can’t...I can’t do this without you, please don’t leave me alone.” 

You drop your head and cry into your joined hands, jumping in surprise when you feel her lightly squeeze your hand. Your eyes flit to her face, and her eyes are still closed, but you know that she heard you, and you know she’s going to fight. You smile a little and wipe your tears away, as a commotion rings out behind you. Bellamy is being dragged inside by two others, and you start to stand and help when Octavia jumps into action. “Clear some space, lay him down!”

You lower yourself back down, letting the Blake’s have their moment in the same way that Octavia let you have yours. You catch her eyes from across the room and you both exchange small smiles, before turning back and tending to your respective siblings. 

-

Hours later, after helping the others, you find Octavia leaned against a wall, nodding off. You shake her awake, and nod to the third floor. “Hey, get some rest. Me and Murphy can handle it for a while.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” She starts to walk away but turns back, “Can you check on Bellamy for me?”

“Of course.”

She nods in thanks and climbs the ladder, leaving you to stop by beside Bellamy. You give yourself a minute to map his features, unnoticed, as everyone is either distracted or asleep. Including him. The longer you look, the more you hate the blood staining his face, reminding you of the danger you’re all in. You step away to find a rag and a cup of water, before you wet the rag and gently wipe the sweat from his skin, along with the blood around his mouth and nose. He wakes as you’re finishing up, and your eyes instantly connect. You blush a little, even though you did nothing wrong, and his eyes drop to it. You pull back and he sits up, and you grab a cup of water as Murphy passes by, handing it to Bellamy and urging him to drink. He drains the cup and then looks you over, "You feeling better?"

“Much.” 

He nods, a smile on his face, and he looks around. "That's good. You seen Octavia?"

"She was up all night helping people. I sent her away to rest, while Murphy and I took over.” He opens his mouth to say something, before changing his mind. He settles on something else instead, "It's almost dawn. Better get everyone inside. If we lock the doors, maybe the Grounders will think we're not home."

You shake your head, "Not everyone is sick."

"Sick is better than dead."

You consider this, and nod. "I'll get everyone inside."

-

You go around the camp, gathering everyone and telling them about the plan, leading them towards the dropship, and potentially, the last stronghold of safety. Bellamy comes out to help minutes later, unable to handle even a second of inaction. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

As you are both leading everyone inside, an explosion shakes the camp, and a mushroom cloud floats up in the distance. Bellamy’s voice is shocked behind you, "They did it."

You watch the smoke lift into the sky, and remember a quote your dad once taught you. "I am become death, destroyer of worlds.”

Bellamy whispers, “Oppenheimer.”

-

As soon as Octavia returns, she sends you away, promising that now she would keep an eye on your sibling. You head to your spot, your tree, and climb up, wondering if sleep will reach you at all. 

It doesn’t.

Instead, the realization that your mom is really gone hits you. Sobs wrack your body as you remember her, and then your dad, the crushing weight of being an orphan now heavy on your shoulders. You think of Clarke, temperature impossibly high, coughing up blood and leaving you alone in this world. Because you called her over to look at Murphy. Before that, she was safe, she was okay. 

You wonder if a curse slides through your blood, dooming everyone close to you, and you decide that you will give it no more victims. You will put no one else in harm's way. Because no one close to you is safe. And with a steely resolve that rivals that of your mother, you head back to the dropship to check on Clarke, ready to nurse her back to health and then leave her alone. Ready to keep her safe by keeping your distance. Instead of finding her resting comfortably, the hammock is empty. You look around in confusion, and Murphy spots you, offering, “The graves.”

“Thanks.”

You turn and leave, heading for the small graveyard outside the walls of the camp. As you near the perimeter, a voice catches you off guard. “You’re not thinking of going outside the walls without a gun, are you?”

“Guess not.” The curse can’t reach them if I’m dead. You shake the thought away, and an odd look passes over Bellamy’s face.

He makes eye contact with two guards and gestures for them to walk in front of you as he falls in step beside you. Clarke turns as you both step through, and she turns back to eye the new row of freshly dug graves. "Fourteen graves."

Bellamy ignores her, "We need to talk about Murphy."

She turns to face you both fully, and you see the light of the torch glint off the metal sun around her neck. You look back up at her and her fingers brush across it, acknowledging your gaze. She looks over at Bellamy, “He was right about the bridge."

"We'll see. Octavia says the Mountain Men are pissed, whatever that means."

You turn to him, “Mountain Men?”

He shrugs in response, and Clarke reasons, "I'd say it means we need as many soldiers as we can get."

You pull a face, but say nothing. Bellamy eyes her, "So, what, we have pardon power now?"

"It's hard running things." He lifts a brow quickly and drops it, and she gazes over the graves one last time. “Fourteen.”

And then she heads back into camp, leaving you and Bellamy standing in silence. He starts, “That necklace...that Clarke was wearing?”

He doesn’t need to finish the question, because you know what he’s asking. “Yes. It was our mother’s.”

“I’m sorry.” 

You just shrug in response, the emotions not reaching you, tucked too far away in a box now labeled off limits. But the realization does reach you. “Only the stars and the moon now. No sunlight. Just darkness.”

He shifts beside you at your dark tone and reaches for your hand, but you step away, fighting the pull of your muscles to reach for him. A hurt look passes over his face and you step on your regret. “I am become death, Bellamy. You’re not safe.”

And before he can answer, you walk away, heading back to your tree, back to isolation where no one else can get hurt.

-

next chapter

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x you #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake x y/n

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Be My Garden of Eden Ch.5

When he came to, he was staring at the roof of a dilapidated building, mildewed and stained. A system scan informed him of a replacement joint in his shoulder, and new thirium lines in place of the damaged ones. His chest plate was switched out as well, the dents and tears completely gone. Other places that had 'scarred' were sautered closed and buffed out. With his synthetic skin on, they were no longer visible. 

He's been at this address before, with a client. Where were you? How long has he been here? His injuries were repaired, so it must have been real, right? It wasn't another elaborate fantasy, was it? Was he getting so lost in his head that he could no longer tell dreams from reality? Was it so far-fetched to believe you cared about him? 

That he could be free?

No, please, no. He can't go back, not anymore. Not to that repulsive club. To the horrendous people and that vicious owner. You were his owner now. He was gonna live with you and be whatever you wanted him to be. He was going to be happy.

His view of the roof became obscured, so he blinked, feeling something run down his face. He touched it, fingers coming away wet. Looking up again, he could see no fresh watermarks above him. Water kept filling his eyes though, and he kept having to blink it away. Was this… was he crying? Can androids cry? He rubbed at his eyes as a sob erupted from him. What if his client saw? He needed to stop, he needed to-

"-Piece of work, you know that?" Your voice rang, full of annoyance. The panic that had been threatening to suppress him released its grip almost immediately.

"I just calls it as I sees it. Though, gotta say, you picked yo'self out a fine slice." A male voice rang out, laughing. A program he had automatically ran the voice through some kind of database.

Eugene "TriXx" Wilhelms

Born: 10/11/2016

Criminal record: drug possession with intent to sell, possession of illegal substance, forgery, theft, identity theft, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, driving without a license.

He never understood why a sex bot needed this kind of program. It completely undid the point of discrepancy. He had learned many people's background this way, but he could do nothing about it. They were paying clients and he was their toy. This man, however, he had met before, in a similar building, selling meth to one of his clients. He had his own android with him, a PL600. Something about the android made his synthetic skin crawl, but he had no reason for it. He had never met him before, nor did he do anything of particular interest.

The real question was, why were you here, and with such a dangerous man? Sitting up, he found you heading toward him.

"Connor! How do you feel?" You looked him over, taking his face and looking him up and down. It was then that he realized he was dressed, wearing a grey sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. They felt nice. Not as comfortable as the over-sized clothes you had lent him, but far better than his old clothes, or running around in only those horrible briefs. You had switched out of your black tights, wearing tight-fitting jeans instead, though you still wore the same boots. He could see the trace amounts of thirium still staining them.

"I'm okay, " Con answered. Your hands wiped at his tears, smile melancholic. "Where are we?"

You looked back at the man, hesitating, before turning back to Connor, removing your hands from his face. He already missed your touch and your actions filled him with dread. Why did you look so serious?

"Connor, I haven't been truthful with you." Your voice was a little shaky, so you cleared it in an attempt to steady it. He reached out, taking hold of your hand. He might not know what this was about, but he didn't like how uneasy you seemed. "Remember when I told you about that special group who believes androids are changing?" He nodded. "Well, as you might have guessed, I'm a member. Eugene," you gestured to the man behind you, "is also a member."

"It's TriXx."

"Shut it!" You quickly snapped at him before turning back to Connor, "because of Eugene's… chosen profession, he often sees androids that are being abused or suppressed. Most of the time, they're domestic androids. People can report them missing but without any human evidence, they have no way to trace them, so it just becomes another police report and another citizen for Canada." You sat down next to him.

"However, sometimes he sends me a curveball," you glared at the man currently tossing a dirty vase back and forth, "androids that are owned by clubs, even seedy ones, are far easier to track. They're more expensive, so the clubs are more willing to put in the effort of finding them, or at least, persecuting the ones who stole them. So-"

The vase shatters, making you jump. Connor only held your hand tighter.

"So?"

"…So, I have to purchase them. Eugene makes them fake IDs and passports and we send them on their way. We have members in Canada that will take them in until they can find a job and another place to live."

Connor was quiet for a few moments. Is that why you bought him? To send him away?

"What if they don't want to leave?" He looked into your eyes, a silent plea behind them, begging you to let him stay.

"If not, there is a place in Detroit, hidden away from the humans. Only an android can find it. It's called 'Jericho'. Paul has the key. Speaking of which, where is he?" You looked around.

"Went ta drop off medicine to one of our associates," Eugene kicked at some of the shards, crushing a large one under his boot, "He'll be back soon. I was gonna go, but he's rather fond of the ol' lady. She even insists he calls her 'Abuela'. Makes 'im tea every time he sees her, knowin' full well he can't drink it." She sounds like a nice woman, Connor thinks to himself.

"Well, as much as I enjoy your company," your voice was positively dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not waiting three hours in this musky, old house watching you sell drugs. Tell Paul thank you for fixing Connor and loaning him some clothes." You stood up. Connor stared, unsure if he was supposed to follow you or stay here with Eugene and go to Jericho. When your hand reached down, he was relieved, taking it and following you out.

"Catch ya later, Color Wheel!" Eugene called out to you.

"Color Wheel?"

"He's been calling me that since middle school when I would show up to class covered in paint."

"I see." While Connor found that to be interesting, he was only half paying attention. His current objective was finding a way to stay with you. He doesn't want to go to either Canada or Jericho. He doesn't want to leave you.

You both climbed into the automated taxi, and he quickly determined it was the same one as before. The blood looked to have been cleaned, but a program he didn't know he had kicked in, showing the large stain that had since evaporated. His systems told him that was five hours ago, and he was still wondering in what way this could ever be useful to a sexbot. If anything, it would be considered disturbing to know how long a stain was left somewhere.

It was dark by the time they reached your home. Using the flashlight on your phone, you walked up to the front porch, Connor following close behind. You managed to unlock the door, going inside. He was perplexed when you headed for the kitchen, still using your phone as your only light source. You came back with matches, lighting the candles scattered around your living room. Testing his theory, he flicked on a light switch. Nothing happened.

"Can't get nothing past you, can I?" You laughed, "electricity is off. I'm taking care of it tomorrow. We'll just have to find a way to entertain ourselves in the meantime."

The way the golden lights reflected off your skin, creating an almost ethereal glow over your face, it captivated him. He wanted to touch you, feel if you are real. Realizing what you said, he snapped himself out of it. These "free" thoughts were becoming more intrusive than before.

"Why was the electricity turned off?" You shrugged your shoulders.

"Couldn't afford it. It's fine, though." You tried to brush it off, but he knew he must have been a contributing factor, if not the main reason.

"I'm sorry." Eyes at his lap, he fiddled with the edge of the sweater.

"Don't be. I would do it again if I had the option. Plus, it's not like its winter yet, so I can handle a few days in the dark. It's already being taken care of, so don't worry about it." Hearing that this was not even the first day did not go over his head. How long have you been sitting in the dark? How could you paint under these conditions? The sun shines through your studio for a while, but not nearly long enough for you to finish any paintings, especially as the days get shorter.

You lit the candles over the mantle and Connor's heart stopped.

Carl's painting was gone.

"Where-"

"Pawned it." you cut him off, looking at the unnaturally vacant space, "his paintings are far more valuable than mine."

"Why? Wasn't it important to you?" How could you pawn such an expensive gift?

"It was my only viable option. Besides, I'm sure Carl would approve." He still looked upset. "If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself. I've been meaning to pay him a visit anyway." He nodded. He would like to meet him.

"When do you think that will be?" He asked. You contemplated that for a moment.

"Probably not until the day after tomorrow. I'll have to call and see if he'll be home. Tomorrow, we're gonna see if we can't find you some more clothes."

"Clothes?"

"Yeah, you're gonna need a disguise to get across the border." Connor tried his best not to wince when you said that. At least now, he had an idea of how long he has to convince you. He set a timer, but pushed it out of his vision. Watching it tick down so quickly was making him anxious.

Chance of Success: 50%

After a few moments, you spoke again.

"I'm sorry." Connor stared at you, perplexed.

"For what?"

"For not helping sooner. I wanted to, I really did, but-" Connor took hold of your cheeks, feeling as they heated up.

"It doesn't matter. You saved me, and I can't thank you enough." He smiled softly, watching the way the lights of the candle flickered in your eyes. A thought occurred to him, or rather, an urge. He was drifting closer to you, almost like a magnetic pull. He kept looking down at your lips. They look soft, and he wonders how they would feel. He was so close, mere inches away when you turn your head. He pulled back, withdrawing his hands. What was he thinking? Of course you don't want him to touch you. You were only tolerating it until he was shipped off. You stood up suddenly.

vvChance of Success: 39%

"I-I'm gonna make a sandwich. I'll be right back!" You were nervous, unable to control the volume of your voice. Quickly, you scurried off to the kitchen. Connor sank further into the couch, a sense of gloom lingering over him. Why was he always screwing things up?

"Do you need some blue blood?" You shouted from the kitchen. His levels were only at 82%, but frankly, he didn't feel like drinking.

"No, thank you."

"Alright, they're in here if you want one." He just wanted to sit here. He wants his mind to stop pointing out the obvious. That he was a dirty, used sex machine and there was no way you would want him. Even if he wasn't, he was incompatible. You were human. You would want to be with another human, someone to start a family with. 

These thoughts were so much worse after he broke the red walls. What did that even mean now? If he knew you were going to buy him, would he have been so eager to tear them down? They might have been oppressing, but at least he didn't know what 'this' felt like. A feeling akin to wanting to disappear, just, not existing anymore.

Connor was unusually quiet, and his LED flickering more yellow than blue, and you thought you saw some red mixed in. It had been half an hour since you came back with your food. You wished you had more in the ways of board games or card games, but all you had was a checkerboard and a jigsaw puzzle you bought on a whim years ago. You taught him how to play, and he quickly started kicking your ass at it, but it didn't so much as earn you a sincere smile. You moved to sit next to him, to which he didn't react.

"Hey, " you put your hand on his shoulder, prompting him to snap out of his thoughts and look at you, "You doing okay?"

"I'm alright, " he says, but his LED is still flickering. Your thumb started to stroke the junction between his shoulder and neck.

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, but I'm here if you need me." There were so many things he wanted to ask you, so much he wanted to know, but he hesitated. If... If you didn't feel the same way towards him as he did you, he didn't want to know. If he didn't know, he could believe there is a chance he could sway you. 

There was something else eating at him. Something you might have an answer for.

"When I was at the club, while the owner was..." He didn't want to say it, to think about it. Your hand squeezed his shoulder, encouraging him to continue, "Something strange happened. There were all these... Red walls, instructing me to follow the owner's instructions. If I had, he would have destroyed me. I... I was scared, and... Angry. I started tearing at the walls, and they crumbled so easily. Next thing I knew, I could do whatever I wanted. I could defend myself. I could leave the club. I could go-" Find you, he thought, but he halted his ramblings before he could dig himself deeper. You took his silence as him finishing what he had to say, trailing your hand down and taking his hand. He hid the shiver that was left in its wake by slowly exhaling. You were smiling wide, as if it was the best news you had ever heard.

"You broke through your code." 

"What?" That's... That's not possible... Is it? 

"You broke through your code. It means you don't have to listen to anyone if you don't want to. They call it "deviation"." He only seemed more confused, "just see for yourself. I'm listed as your new owner, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I order you to cluck like a chicken while hopping on one leg."

A part of him wanted to do it simply because it was you who asked, but it seemed so... Ridiculous. His eyes widened when he realized he wasn't even making a move to stand, let alone impersonate a chicken. An idea even came to him, something he decided to take a chance on, just to gauge your reaction.

"Woof, " he said, smiling proudly. You laughed, shoving him playfully.

"Okay, wise guy, you get the point, " you giggled, "this is great! The last android wasn't a deviant and took two weeks to help her break her code. This will save so much time!"

His smile fell. 

vvChance of Success: 12%

"What?" Your own cheerful demeanor dropped, replaced with concern.

He looked to you, eyes begging you. He was asking too much, but he can't do this. He can't.

"Why do I have to leave?" You seemed confused, not in the sense of misunderstanding, but more like it had never occurred to you.

"Do you... Do you not want to?"

He couldn't force the simple word out. He was being selfish, and he knew it. How could he ask this of you, when you risked so much for him already? You were sitting in the dark because of him! He should have kept his mouth shut.

"You know, I actually could use some help around the house. With me painting all the time, it's gone a little neglected. I could also use a model from time to time. Would you mind sticking around, just a little while longer?"

^^Chance of Success: 89%

"Yes. Yes, of course, " he spoke softly, in shock, before pulling you against him in a hug. Your sharp yelp, followed quickly with laughter soothed him. A little longer. It was a start.

#rk800 connor reader #connor fanfiction #detroit become human #rk800 #gaming #dbh au #connor dbh #@witchjules #@michaels-endtime #Don't know if y'all still wanna be tagged

[imgoodloveenjoy]

Chexton isn't perfect but Sexcel is toxic.

I’ve been a fan of Chicago Med since season 1, I love the growth of the characters and seeing them come into their own and blossom through their storylines. In the beginning, I liked Marcel, he represented a wild, fun and interesting addition to the cast and characters until the writers decided to make him messy. Now, I can excuse messiness but I can’t excuse the arrogance of Marcel’s character especially with him disrespecting one of my favorite characters, April. Since April and Marcel are working closely together, the way he speaks to her rubs me the wrong way so I’ve compiled a list of instances of Marcel directly disrespecting April:

 1. Season 5, episode 3:

               * In this episode, a woman came into the ED with a newborn infant. April thought she should’ve been checked out, which I agreed with as childbirth is a traumatic vaginal, physical & emotional experience and to make sure the placenta had passed. Voicing this concern with Marcel throughout the episode, even mentioning when she had her suspicions that the baby wasn’t hers, he aggressively bit back at her just to go behind her back and do what he admonished her for suggesting (and taking credit by making it seem like him doing the tests was all of his idea) while also sedating the patient, which resulted in DCFS not being able to talk to her and possibly find the truth and help the real mother sooner. Marcel could’ve talked to April about the issue, especially since a recessed placenta can cause extreme sickness and death for a mother, and he and April could’ve worked through the issue together as teammates instead of him being authoritative & holding his position over her head.

 2. Season 5, episode 8:

               * This is the episode where Noah has been beaten. Although I agree with Marcel about Noah needing surgery, he didn't have to speak the April the way he did. That's her baby brother laying there and he should've taken her concerns into consideration, a total lack of empathy. Lanik was running point as Noah's doctor and was discussing the options for treatment with his sister and all-knowing Marcel comes in, speaks over April & telling her "It's not your call", when it's most likely that April is designated to make decisions about his care when he's unable. Being aggressive with her that she isn’t in charge of his care and, once again, disregarding her medical input just feels like an asshole. April then apologizes to Marcel when he should be apologizing to her. This situation also lets us into a little window that feels like he always has to be right even to the point of not consulting with his own patients or their guardians about how they want their care to go & what their options are. He's right, they're wrong = Connor 2.0. To directly insult her about her brother's care is sickening and full of ego.

 3. Season, 5, episode 10:

               *This episode once again shows us how Marcel isn’t very communicative with his patients or the people on his team. He has a patient who has expressed a fear of being under anesthesia and Marcel, AGAIN, goes straight for the surgery instead of offering all avenues of service to his patient and advocating for what he feels would be the best course of action. "As much as I value your input, Nurse Sexton, I am the surgeon and this is the plan" cuing Noah being visibly uncomfortable by that statement.

Speaking with his patient would’ve told him that the father died under anesthesia and that could be evident of some kind of underlying issue, as we just had a similar issue with Elsa's patient, who was allergic to the anesthesia and had a deadly reaction. Even Noah notices that they're arguing a lot, which isn’t healthy for a work environment. Marcel tries to blame his horrid communication skills on April telling her that if the patient needs emergency surgery, it’s on her. No, it’s on you, Marcel.  I'm sure if he had just talked to his patient, there wouldn’t have been any dramatics and the patient would’ve done the surgery but since Marcel is hiding things (double entendre intended), the patient ops out, feeling uneasy. April did what Marcel should’ve done and what she suggested he do in the beginning and communicate medical action to the patient about what his options were. Marcel has no problem popping in on other people's patients offering surgery as an option, why is it so hard for him to offer non-surgical options for his patients? It's like he just wants to cut into people, almost psychopathic. In the end, April oddly apologizes when she did nothing wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This brings me to another thing I've noticed: Marcel works really well with Noah because Noah is in training. Noah defers to Marcel's medical judgement and seems ready to try to please him. Meanwhile, April has been in the medical field long enough to know how some things are supposed or should go so she offers up her medical opinion, and has in the past to Will, Natalie, Connor and Ethan. Marcel probably feels like this calls in to question his judgment and snaps on her, wanting things his way while treating April as a glorified assistant. The only thing April did wrong was to not let Noah and Marcel know that she had this conversation with the patient when he requested to know his other options; Marcel was more in the wrong for not doing this in the beginning and for yelling at April, he doesn’t seem to work well with a team and April didn’t need to apologize. They will both find out that hiding things to make things go your way, won’t work.

Another thing is he relies on calling April "Nurse Sexton" as to remind her of his elevated status versus hers. It’s like he's telling her "You’re just a nurse, therefore inconsequential" as though she doesn’t know enough or have had enough experience with patients as he has, probably more as many of us in hospitals see the nurses more often than we see the doctor. April's position as a nurse isn’t because she cannot be a doctor, its due to her misogynistic upbringing where her status could be the same or better than the men in her family. She voiced this concern when Noah first came to Med and when hiding her relationship with Ethan - knowing that nurses are seen as lowly in the medical field when they're really vital.

Final thoughts: Marcel needs to pack that ego in. He’s condescending to April every time she has an idea or concern about someone’s medical care. I do think his pairing with Natalie, someone who’s always as self-righteous as he is and rarely ever apologizes, will cause him to look back at his behavior and make some changes, hopefully. Not like April who seems to cow to his behavior. It would be interesting to see him work with Dr. Latham, someone who’s just as skilled, knowing and strong willed as he is who will really challenge him on ethics. We’ll see what happens in the coming episodes.

#chicagomed #chicago med #april sexton #ethan choi #crockett marcel #chexton #sexton #sexcel #one chicago #character analysis #brian tee #yaya dacosta #dominic rains #chicago pd #chicago fire

[raine-jones]

even numbers for the ask meme : )

2 Do they have any daily rituals?

Not really, Raine mostly tries to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, but that’s as far as rituals go. 

4 What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Not wait, plant themselves inbetween the other people, cut at the table, make jokes, shout orders, basically insert themselves into the situation to create even more chaos. 

6 Eating habits and sample daily menu

Pretty healthy, mostly thanks to Diego, and the fact that they really aren’t used to cooking. They usually eat oatmeals or whole-grain cereal in the morning, a sandwich or wrap (with hummus) at lunch, and whatever is cooked by Diego in the evening. If Diego doesn’t cook, they have their go to recipe for Ratatouille, which is one of the easiest recipes known to humankind. 

8 Favourite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

A good night out, having dumb conversations about nothing. Drinking way too much and smoking way too much. They never really wish for something materialistic, just moments. 

10 Neuroses? Do they recognise them as such?

Raine probably some form of depression, but they do not recognise that they do, neither would they accept it if anyone else told them they have. 

12 Favourite book genre?

Science Fiction. 

14 Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Slight Hayfever in that they are allergic to dust and certain herbs, though they have no clue which ones. Also minor allergy to Hazelnuts. 

16 Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Biggest: have a life with Clover. Smallest: solve the new cleaning schedule with all the people in the pack house. 

18 Favourite beverage?

Sprite, though they don’t drink it as much. 

20 Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

None, Raine unlike most kids didn’t get sick much, they got in a lot of scrapes and difficult situations, but were vaccinated and managed to somehow avoid all ugly illnesses. 

22 Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

I can’t lie, Raine would draw penises and like... cats. 

24 Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

Raine is very good with cars and other mechanics, they have an understanding of how things work, although they are not very interested in learning more about it. 

26 Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

Raine has dreams and ideas, never really plans. 

28 Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Having an odd idea of friends, Raine would suggest nobody or that they don’t want to pick. Deep down they know Clover is their best friend, but they wouldn’t want to say it because they fear hurting Hutch, Connor, and Milo’s feelings. 

30 Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Anger, rage, seclusion. 

32 Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Aside from a car, a bed, and a toothbrush, what more do they need?

34 Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

Raine has grown up in a house with four other people that always felt too small, and now live in a house with far too many people. They don’t necessarily crave private space, although they do keep to themselves a lot, but it’s mostly when they’re with Clover that they want privacy. 

36 What makes them feel guilty?

Making mistakes for nothing and getting called out for them. Finding out they hurt someone they care about with something they did. 

38 Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

Type A. Though Raine would tell you that they are very easy-going. 

40 Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

Neither. Raine does make it seem as if they feel superior to the people in the pack, but this is only because of their role in the pack, which has nothing to do with wanting to be “better” but everything with wanting the place to be more organised. At work they don’t feel superior or inferior either. They often relate to people as “equals” or just “other people”. The only person they do feel inferior to is Sara. 

42 Hobbies?

Smoking weed, candy crush. 

44 Religion?

None. Raine has an aversion to religion that they don’t really discuss or would even mention, appearing to just be indifferent to the concept. 

46 Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

Deeds. As we’ve seen. 

48 How do they express love?

With friends: badly. With someone they love: Raine gets incredibly romantic and tries to make as many gestures as possible. Mostly lots of staring and smiling, and being glad they have Clover in their life again. 

50 Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

While Raine has no future plans, and are afraid their dreams might never be reached, they do fear death. Even though at times they feel insignificant, and as if nothing works out the way it should, they don’t want to see their life come to an end.

#askmeme #tw #death #depression #drugs #//I just realised cutting posts is out of the question #//my sincerest apologies #oxdendine

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 10: Unconscious

Summary:  Apparently, androids can sleepwalk. Hank wished somebody had told him that. Now he has to corral a feverish Connor into going back to bed.

--

If the sound of the radio booming to life at the tender hour of 3am ended up giving Hank a heart attack, he was going to sue Britney Spears.

“Cause to lose all my senses…That is just so typically me!”

Yet, there she was.

Hank snapped awake and then groaned as the rest of his body woke up just as violently.

“Oh baby, baby!”

He threw off the blankets and clamored to his feet, practically feeling the walls rattle around him as the radio in the living room roared. It only got worse when he opened the bedroom door.

“Oops, I did it again! I played with your heart…Got lost in the game.”

He hurried down the hallway in socked feet, skidding slightly on the floor as he reached the radio in the living room.

“Oops, you think I’m in love…That I’m sent from aboooooove…”

In the semi darkness, he pawed at the radio until his hand hit one of the dials.

“I’m not. That. Innocent!”

“Shut up!” he growled, smacking the power button.

Silence plunged across the living room, and the panic that had sent him flying out of bed ebbed enough for the aftermath of the abrupt movements to register all over his body. Hank huffed, putting a hand at his back and leaning against the wall of the kitchen as he caught his breath.

“Jesus…Jesus fucking Christ…Connor?” he wheezed, squinting in the dark living room.

He could see well enough to make out the empty shape of the couch, the blanket and pillows left abandoned, and a big puddle where the ice bag had hit the floor, busted, and then melted. Sumo was sitting up in his bed against the wall, watching Hank curiously.

“Shit.”

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find Connor.

The android was standing in the kitchen, directly in front of the open door of the refrigerator. He looked dopey enough in his pajamas, just an old Star Trek t-shirt and red basketball shorts, and staring into the fridge like the little light in the back held all the secrets of the universe.

“Connor?” Hank heard water running, and he hurried into the kitchen to see that the faucet was running full blast. “What the Hell…”

He stepped around Connor and turned off the faucet, finding a light switch on the wall and illuminating the kitchen. Connor didn’t react at all, just standing like an idiot in front of the fridge, eyes half lidded and his mouth hanging open like a zombie.

Hank came to a stop beside him and snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. Nothing.

“Hmph.” He waved his hand and got the same amount of nothing in response. He slowly turned his hand over and touched Connor’s forehead. He felt hot. “Ah, kid…”

The technician had warned him that some mild overheating might happen after the repairs Connor had gone through the previous afternoon. When Hank had gone to bed at eleven, Connor had been asleep on the couch, maybe a little warm but not what he’d call feverish, and had a big ice bag over his thirium pump for precaution. He’d been high as a kite from the time Tina and Person brought him home to the time he finally went into rest mode, only waking up occasionally to ask Hank some of the most batshit things that he had ever heard.

Between that and whatever the Hell he was looking at now, Hank was going to have a few words with the technicians who designed that new android anesthetic…pain killer…whatever bullshit. He wasn’t sure whether to call this delirium or sleepwalking…Either way, the lights were not on upstairs, he could tell that much by looking into his friend’s eyes.

“Connor,” he put some authority into his tone. “Go back to bed.”

Connor just stared through him, audibly breathing as his ventilation program tried to cool him off.

“You’re not well, kiddo. Go back to bed.” Hank pointed to the couch for emphasis.

Connor continued to stare into another dimension, though his LED spun from blue to yellow for one cycle, before—

“YOOO I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want—“ the radio screamed back to life, giving Hank his second near-heart attack of the night.

“Fucking Hell, Connor, seriously?”

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!” the radio sang loudly.

Hank stomped back over to the radio.

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really, want!”

Hank smacked the off button again.

“So tell me what you want, what you really—“ It cut off mid lyric.

“I WANT,” Hank spun back around, “for you to get your ass back on the couch.”

When Connor rose to no such demand, Hank grumbled and marched back over. He was so used to Connor stepping out of the way when he got too close, that he nearly ran right into him. As it was, his proximity sensors were alert enough to make his body take a delayed step back. Hank shoved the fridge door shut and then got behind Connor, planting his hands on his shoulders.

“Move it.” He pushed lightly at his back to make him move.

Connor may as well have been a brick wall for all the give he had in his body. Hank ran a frustrated hand through his hair, sighed, and decided to go with the route he hated, but what he knew would be effective.

“RK800, receive instructions,” he stated loudly.

Facing away from him, Connor’s frame visibly straightened, and he finally spoke.

“Authorization Code?” his voice had no inflection, no tone, sounding every bit like the damn machine that he hadn’t been in nearly two years.

Hank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Code 092329.”

He watched Connor’s LED whirl another cycle of yellow, and then the android nodded once.

“Confirmed. Prepared to receive instructions.” The soulless, flat sound of his voice made Hank’s skin crawl.

Even before the revolution, Connor hadn’t been this robotic. Hank hated it, but Connor seemed to be fully functional and operating aside from…from being asleep as far as he could guess…He had to jog him out of this before he hurt himself or did some other damage.

Resigned to it, Hank stepped up to stand in Connor’s line of sight. “Go lie down on the couch and reboot. Now. That’s an order.”

Immediately, Connor was turning away from the refrigerator and taking long, even strides over to the living room. Hank followed closely behind him, just in case his programming decided to make him walk out the front door instead…or worse, THROUGH the front door.

Instead, obediently, Connor reached the couch, turned around, and stiffly sat down on it. He promptly laid down along the length of it, closed his eyes, and went limp as he rebooted his entire system. That gave Hank about five minutes to figure out what the entire fuck to do…

He plucked up the mushy bag of ice water and carried it into the kitchen, dropping it in the sink to deal with later. He grabbed up a few kitchen towels and mopped up the puddle in front of the couch, before tossing them in the sink too. He double checked that Connor, in his thoroughly unconscious but still mobile state, hadn’t fucked around with anything else in the house like…putting cereal boxes in the oven or taking down all of the curtains in the house…both such things that Hank’s ex-wife had done on separate occasions when she had slept walked at their old house.

Connor was just starting to twitch and sigh as he came back online when Hank refilled another ice bag, carrying it into the living room. He set it on the coffee table and sat down on the edge of the table himself. The rigidity had sapped out of Connor’s body as he came back around, and he was back to looking like any other sick guy slumped on the couch, feeling tired and hot and shitty.

“Hank?” he spoke before opening his eyes, his brow pinching together.

“Yeah, right here,” Hank answered tiredly, feeling his forehead again, then his neck and his chest, over where his thirium pump was. “You know where you are?”

“Home?” Connor struggled his eyes open, blinking blearily up at Hank.

Mercifully, his eyes were focused this time, and they stayed on Hank as he stared at him in confusion.

“You asking me, or telling me?” Hank prompted. “You were sleepwalking. Since when do androids sleepwalk?”

Connor’s eyes widened. “I…was?”

“Motherfucker, you were blasting Britney Spears and the goddamn Spice Girls in here. I hope to fuck you were sleepwalking, otherwise what the Hell?”

Connor slowly lifted a hand to cover his mouth, though the crinkling near the corners of his eyes gave away the amused grin he was trying to hide.

“You think this is funny? Are you still high?” Hank tried to stay gruff, though his hands were gentle as he slid the ice bag over Connor’s chest. “Hold that.”

Connor used his free hand to situate the bag better over his overheating core, and he exhaled in a short snort. “Sorry, Hank…I wasn’t…aware I was doing that.”

“That’s usually how sleepwalking works,” Hank muttered, losing the battle with staying irritated, and smirked. “They really gave you the good drugs, huh?”

“Apparently.”

Hank chuckled at that, patting Connor’s shoulder. “How’s your system temperature?”

Connor paused as he ran a diagnostic. “It peaked at a hundred and three point four—“

“Fucking Hell, I’m sorry, Connor. I should have been checking on you—“

“That’s unnecessary—“

“What if Zombie You had decided to leave the house? Drive the car?”

Connor slouched a bit, casting his eyes to the edge of the coffee table. “You’ve made your point. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t—Don’t apologize,” Hank sighed and gave him a onceover. “Feeling better? You still look like shit—“

A yellow LED, and then the radio was snapping back to life.

“—Color my hair. Do what I dare. Oh, oh, oh! I wanna be free, yeah. Feel the way I feel!...Man, I feel like a woman.”

It just as abruptly clicked itself off that time, and Hank looked from Connor, to the radio, and back to Connor.

“I didn’t…mean to do that,” Connor confessed, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m having difficulty…focusing…I might still be under the influence of the pain killers.”

Hank snorted, chuckled, and then kicked back a bit with a full laugh. “Might?” He cackled and shook his head. “Well, now Shania has made her appearance too…Anybody else you want to invite to the party?”

“What…party?”

Hank rubbed a hand over his own face, the combination of the late hour and the ridiculous circumstances making him feel loopy too.

“Nevermind. What’s your temperature now?”

“One hundred even,” Connor reported, exhaustion sliding back over his face and into his voice as well. “And…dropping.”

Hank saw him starting to fade, and he patted his knee, standing up and returning to the kitchen. He made up two more smaller ice bags and brought them into the living room. He planted one over Connor’s forehead, letting him situate it however he wanted as he slid the second one under the back of his neck.

“I’m perfectly stable, Hank. You can go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you,” Connor was mumbling now.

Hank untangled the abandoned blanket, dropping it over Connor’s legs, in easy reach if he got a chill later on.

“No chance, pal. I’m gonna park it over there in the recliner, just to make sure you don’t sleepwalk again and decide to remove all the lightbulbs in the house.”

“Why would I—“

Hank waved a hand, and Connor fell quiet, watching him as Hank turned off the kitchen light and turned on a small lamp in the living room to see by. Sumo watched him as well, the big lug never getting up during all the commotion. Hank got comfortable in the recliner and gave Connor a thumb up gesture.

“Go to sleep, son…And, hey…I’ve got a rule in this house, that when you’re sick, you get to watch what you want and listen to whatever music you want. So…go nuts.” He waved at the dark television. “I’ve slept through worse than 90s pop music, and if that’s what makes you feel better, go ahead. Just…keep it under a dull roar next time.”

Connor made a low, noncommittal noise, and Hank watched him wiggle around on the couch briefly. He found a more comfortable position on his side, curling around the bag of ice at his chest. He closed his eyes with a sigh, and the blue of his LED began to slow as he re-entered rest mode.

God, he was ridiculous.

Hank smiled and felt a rush of warm affection for the kid.

Sumo yawned loudly and lay his head back down with a soft sigh, going back into his own rest mode.

The LED spun yellow once, and this time Hank braced himself. Fortunately, the radio came awake much more quietly, playing the same old station as before, but with more mercy on his ears.

“—no love from me. Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride, trying to holla at me…I don't want no scrub…”

“If I wake up with this stuck in my head, you’re walking to work,” Hank mumbled playfully.

On the couch, without opening his eyes, Connor gave a tiny grin. Hank caught it and smirked, settling in to spend the rest of the night keeping an eye on his ill friend, to the soundtrack of his teenage years.

Fucking ridiculous.

#whumptober2019 #no.10 #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #ridiculous? #yes #but I tapped out on the sads yesterday with Day 9 and didn't want to do that two days in a row #so here we are

[detectiveconnor]

You talk a lot about connors strengths, and the positive aspects of him as an individual (which I absolutely adore reading)

But I'd be curious to know what some of his weaknesses are? Some of his flaws 👀

Ooooooh thank you for this question anon! I appreciate it, I love him very much and his weaknesses are as much his as his strengths. I am not putting this under a readmore because it is very good and so I’m leaving it out. Here are some things about Connor that are a little weaker than they could be: 

1. His (lack of) diplomacy. Connor is a trained negotiator and when it ‘matters’ in a sense of urgency he is very good at his job, but Connor can be dry and sarcastic with people he’s decided he doesn’t feel like tolerating. There’s a lot of room for social faux pas and the use of the wrong language he’ll brush right over or etc etc (Connor is very patient), but when someone says something that strikes him as cruel or as trying to take too much or assume too much space for themselves, Connor will cut right to the point in a way that probably isn’t as diplomatic as some of his New Jericho colleagues would prefer. He has a genuine tenacity for cutting through ‘shit’, as he puts it: sometimes this can help other people involved see a side of an issue that they might not have seen so readily if Connor had not been there. Other times it can be sharper than what other people might go for - Connor will not sabotage negotiations, but he also will executively decide, ‘this is shit and they know it. But just in case, I’ll remind them.’ 

It is a weakness in that he can see straight through these people and it is not something he can turn on or off. If Connor has a truth to share that he thinks is worthwhile sharing, he will share it. Yes he’ll try to do it in the right company - but sometimes, he thinks, people should have a thick enough skin to accept being called out. 

2. He is very intuitive, to the point he can be blinded by an instinct in one direction even when someone explicitly tells him the opposite. This is something to do with trust issues, maybe? Connor will trust his gut, more often than he won’t. He likes to take people at their word, but he is willing to press sometimes if his instincts or evidence tell him something else, and he is not always well equipped to handle the situations he gets into because of it. Connor will always show up (it’s who he is and I love him), but there have been times where he’s stepped on toes by mistake because someone says A and he thinks he sees B instead. This happens ... if it’s about their emotions this happens less with the people he loves, and there are a handful of people he will leap blind for in what his gut says is the wrong direction because they give him their word that there is something to land on. But ... he has stepped on toes before because he thinks he knows. It’s a problem. He always apologises. 

3. He can think about the notion of a conversation more than actually having a conversation. He only does this rarely, but I have noticed sometimes if he is trying to talk about something difficult or raise a subject that doesn’t fit well into the conversation, he will try to set up a dialogue path in that direction without ... telling ,... anyone outside of himself about this plan. He will eventually just say it, probably, or decide it wasn’t important. Part of this weakness is that he reaches for the ‘right’ way to talk about things that hurt, and yes he’ll eventually just say it ... but if you catch Connor fishing for something, ask him what he’s skirting around / tell him to ‘cut the crap, what do you mean?’. He will appreciate the opportunity. Connor sometimes feels ... ‘nobody asked currently here now this instant’ means nobody cares to know. 

4. He’s very private, and though friendly, doesn’t consider a lot of people to be his friend. This isn’t a weakness necessarily, but there are more people who consider Connor to be their friend than people whom Connor thinks of as friends. Connor really doesn’t like to feel like his privacy is ... being entreated on any more than he would like it to be. He often permits cameras and questions from the media, being ‘the deviant hunter’ - but there is a firm line in the sand and they will not get so much as a toe over that line. There is no flexibility in it at all and he will permanently put a ban on any reporter who tries to cross it. This has to do (and he will not say this aloud) with the way he has once-upon-a-time thought of Amanda and the word ‘violating’ in the same sentence. His business, his head, his thoughts, his work, and his self are all his. He is willing to share what he is willing to share. If people try to take more, he will Stop Them. 

5. He has difficulty slowing down. Connor is very good at his work and he enjoys it immensely. It makes it difficult sometimes to see that he would benefit from a break, or that it is a good idea to step away a little. Sometimes Connor’s close friends will have to tell him he needs a break before he notices it himself - Connor will eventually notice, but he ... really does get caught up in work. Meet-ups with friends can turn into a conversation about work or what he’s hoping to do next or - just because he enjoys what he does, and it’s on his mind. When he gets to be present with his friends and loved ones, he is very happy about it. Connor has to actively choose that sometimes, but it is nice when he does. 

6. He will not budge at all whatsoever on the things that he has decided are non-negotiable. There are a lot of things Connor is willing to bend on - he will bend but not break, bend until there is that point of Absolutely Not and he will stop moving altogether. You won’t shift him. His privacy is one of these lines; also cruelty, asking him Not to be a Detective, taking agency from someone, trying to take agency ... Connor values a bit of ethical flexibility and he uses it often, to find what he feels is the best outcome. But there are hard lines that he will not compromise on at all, and regardless of how good those lines are that is nonetheless a weakness. 

7. Quick to assume responsibility for things that he could theoretically have stopped. Connor does not have a guilt complex, but he will say, “I should have been faster,” with regret about a situation that he just wasn’t quite ‘good enough’ for. This has some perfectionism vibes, and that’s something Connor will... yes. He moves on quickly enough, but there is that, about him. This is a flaw for the fact that he assumes personal responsibility for every situation he might have affected - Connor is not personally responsible for every preventable thing that ever happens in his presence. He is stretched thin. Connor is fair to himself, but he will readily assume responsibility for things where ... he just ... didn’t manage to do what he needed to do in time. (There are many people who just wouldn’t try.) 

8. He is sometimes more curious about people’s emotional experiences/how that looks/how that emotion is experienced ... than he is about how to help them. This typically won’t be too much of a drawback for him, but he has definitely caught himself (been caught!) asking more questions about the emotion than about what they need, or reaching for an interface for the sake of getting a glimpse of what... he doesn’t have some morbid curiosity, he doesn’t want to sit and gawk at people’s feelings, but he does want to know. It is inherent. His curiosity could cost someone something someday, if he is not careful. He’s watching himself. 

9. He hesitates to share information about himself without being asked for it. It won’t always stop him - sometimes he will volunteer things suddenly just because he’s been thinking about them, or someone makes him think of it - but he does have that hesitation to be visible for people he doesn’t yet trust to see him. He... is always there. But he will use more neutral objective language (”I am experiencing a minor error in my program in response to their absence. It will be resolved shortly,” vs “I ... miss them,” the difference in distance and volume-of-self in those two statements) with people he isn’t already comfortable with, because he was trained to (not on purpose: the way someone can inadvertently train a dog to behave only when its owner is around. Connor was Trained as one might train a dog, and he was too smart not to learn who he was performing for.) 

10. There is a whole part of him that is willing to... that doesn’t ... rule out ... death. He doesn’t want to die even a little at all remotely. But, say, if Amanda were to come back and seize control again, Connor wouldn’t be able to justify staying alive (the risk that poses to the Android cause! Because Connor has done everything he possibly can to keep her out, already, so if she gets back in that means he cannot stop her. If she comes back that means he cannot stop himself being a threat to everyone around him). There would be ... gosh. There would be out-loud considerations and conversations about it. He would want to have that conversation with the people he loved, ‘if she comes back...’. Just so they know, so they don’t think they ‘missed’ something (he wants to live he wants to live he wants to live he wants to live), but .. for the record. He is prepared to die. He readied himself in the Garden on the night she tried to rob him of himself, and he barely escaped with his life. Connor has been ready ever since. 

I am going to stop here! I hope these help you Anon <3 I love Connor very much. Thank you for asking! 

#about connor #headcanon #long post for ts #long post #connor dbh #suicide mention tw

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Afterward (5/13)

Chicago, Illinois: The Sexton Baby, Connor Rhodes

15 January 2019 | 09:10 Local Time

I have to tell April the truth about the baby. Dr. Halstead needs to know the truth about Connor, and needs to start to free himself from him. And this hospital needs to be cleansed.

-

Back in the hospital, waiting at the nurse’s station and trying to make herself the least visible she can, so as not to draw attention or cause a disruption, Sarah watches for Connor. This is an emergency room, after all, and there are people here in dire need of help, the physical kind, the kind where they could bleed out in the waiting room. She can’t allow someone to be trapped here because her distraction barred them from the help they need.

It takes a while- she has to wait for Will to arrive, looking like he didn’t sleep at all the night before, with Connor’s bloody face at his side. Immediately, his eyes lock on her and his face twists in anger. This time, she feels it. The way the clock speeds up on the wall. The sudden blur around everything as they move so much faster than she can hope to, the clock reaching half-past in the blink of an eye. April’s shift started at six, now the clock is verging on seven, and Connor is staring at her. She doesn’t know if it’s really Connor, though. Not the way he was when he was alive, at any rate. Sarah didn’t know him, but he seems to have been loved, and it’s hard to imagine someone loving an energy so blatantly angry and malicious, to the point that she wonders if he’s beyond saving.

She blinks, and then everything seems normal, except an entire tray of blood vials a nurse had been carrying for blood panels right by where Connor stands collapses to the ground, shattering and spilling and coating the poor woman’s scrubs. She pales and starts spouting apologies, and Connor, Connor looks at her and then he’s gone. 

Sarah needs to take a look at the records, and if she does that now, then she can fix this whole thing sooner rather than later. Every moment she spends failing to learn and plan is another moment where people are hurting. So she finds April, rubs her sweaty palms on her jeans, and asks the question.

“Can I see the records now?”

That gives April pause, and it seems like she’s about to say no, but then she hands Sarah the little tablet in her hand. “I’m about to go on break. You’ve got twenty minutes, okay?”

Twenty. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Sarah nods and rushes to the nearest private space- the women’s restroom. She barricades herself in one of the stalls, grabs her notebook, and starts at Connor’s records. Fifteen minutes for those, maximum, and then she has five to look at the rest. She puts his name into the system, and mostly she gets his employee information from before he died- blood type, birthday, emergency contact. The contact is listed as Dr. Halstead, which means there was definitely more there than meets the eye. But she’s more interested in his death report, because he apparently died here, at the hospital.

The autopsy says inconclusive.

He died during an active hostage situation in the ED a few months ago. The assumption was that he was shot at some point, but they found his body in the doctor’s lounge, tucked into a corner. No injuries. No bullet wounds. Blood dripping from his nose and mouth and eyes. They couldn’t figure out why. 

This is really bad news. Sarah’s heart is beating out of her chest. Her skin is beginning to crawl. She thinks she might be having her first anxiety attack in years. It isn’t safe here. The hospital needs to be shut down, at least for a while, or more people will die, and in far worse ways than what killed Connor. And Connor’s ghost needs to be freed, if not completely exorcised. And it has everything, everything to do with the spirits haunting April. And if Sarah has to hazard a guess, April and Will aren’t the only ones being haunted. 

She forces herself to take a deep breath. She needs to look at the maternity deaths. But she still can’t draw in a good breath, and it hurts, but she has to look. First, she puts in April’s name, and the records tell her when April’s baby’s heart stopped beating, when she had to have it removed from inside her. The baby, the fetus, physically can’t be the spirit. It’s too small to be the one haunting April. Chills dig into her spine, and Sarah still can’t breathe, and the next thing she knows someone is pounding on the stall door and it might be the thing that killed Connor and has this hospital in its vice grip.

“Sarah? It’s just April. Someone heard you panicking and called the nurses for help. Can you unlock the stall?”

Sarah’s hands are shaking. She doesn’t want to drop the tablet, it’s probably really expensive and then April might get in trouble for letting her see the records in the first place. Why didn’t Sarah even think of that when she asked to see them? She still can’t breathe. Her one hand clutches the tablet white knuckled while the other fumbles at the sliding lock, just barely managing to pull it open and let the tartan door swing towards her. It’s just April, just April standing in front of her with the light shining around her silhouette like something off the silver screen. A heroine. An angel.

“Take a deep breath for me, Sarah. You can do that, can’t you. In, like this, copy me. There you go. Out.”

As hard as she tries to listen, her lungs aren’t cooperating and her notebook is on the floor and she’s probably about to drop the tablet. And the thing that killed Connor is still here, not finished wreaking destruction. 

Fingers are digging into her cheekbones, sharp, and she whimpers before she recognizes that they’re only April’s hands. Something safe and good and not an imminent threat. The touch, the warmth it begins to pour into her veins, helps her start to breathe deeply again. Her lungs still only feel like they’re at half capacity, but she’s starting to breathe and it’s better than just a moment ago, at the very least. She’s able to take a deep breath and start to relax, loosen the tension in her muscles until she’s finally able to fill her chest with precious oxygen and set the tablet on her lap. She doesn’t lean forward to pick up her notebook yet, far too content in the way April’s holding her face like she’s something precious.

“You’re okay,” April says, and Sarah finds herself nodding. “Just keep breathing. Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

She should, but for now, Sarah shakes her head. As soon as April releases her face, Sarah picks up her notebook and returns the tablet. She’s got enough information for now- the baby isn’t Sarah’s, and everyone in this hospital is in grave danger. Her top priority for everyone’s safety is now Connor. Which means she’s got to talk to him, and absolutely Will.

“I think you should take some time off,” Sarah says as they walk out of the bathroom together. “At least until I figure this all out.”

“Sarah, I can’t just- figure what out?”

No matter how she phrases it, she’ll sound crazy. There’s no way around it, especially when talking to those who don’t live in the same world she does. “The thing that killed Connor poses an active danger to everyone in this hospital, including you. Until I can get rid of it, no one should be in the building.”

“Okay, I think you’re overexaggerating.”

April’s voice is clearly dramatized, but she bumps her shoulder against Sarah’s in a way that promises no irritation, no hard feelings if she is. But the thing is, she’s not, and it’s probably going to be difficult to do anything to cleanse the meticulous, strictly controlled hospital environment, but she has to try.  If she did nothing, she’d never forgive herself. Already, she’s trying to figure out what to ask Will, and when. She’d have to isolate him from Connor, but Connor’s reaction could be unpredictable, violent even, and that’s a risk she isn’t sure if she’s willing to take.

She has no choice, though, and  that weighs on her when they get back to the ED and Connor is standing behind Will, a hand reached out as if to touch the stubbly skin of his cheek. It has to hurt, having no way to touch the people around you. She can only begin to imagine the amount of pain he must be in right now.

He comes up to her, this time, and leans against the counter although the edge of his hip sinks through the countertop, a reminder of what he isn’t. There’s so much blood on his spirit. She has the urge to lift her arm and wipe it away, but it just isn’t possible.

“I read your autopsy report,” she tells him.

Connor tilts his head to the side, and people around them begin to move faster. It tightens Sarah’s chest but she refuses to acknowledge it. She can’t and shouldn’t show any reaction to the way he plays with the reality around them.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Connor says softly, his gaze flickering over to Will. “Did the report say how long it took them to find me?”

“Four hours. After the hostage situation ended.”

He nods, and she almost forgets how much power lurks beneath his skin. “I just didn’t want them to focus on me instead of the patients. I thought I would be okay. And then they didn’t even look for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and sniffles, evidence he’d be crying if he was capable. Sarah’s given the chance to wonder if maybe, she can free him just like this and turn all of her focus to getting rid of the thing that killed him. But as she’s thinking about it, something dark drifts across Connor’s face and he steps back, the clocks slowing now, so everyone around her is stopped in time. He shouldn’t be able to do this.

“I don’t want you to send me away, or to the next plane, or some shit. I need to be here for Will.”

#afterwardfic #fic #mine

[pink-peony-princess]

Teaser of 'Who Said Anything About Tact?':

Violet's walk had started out like any other. She was a person of habit,very rarely did she break her routine, and so how she came to be by Old Station Bridge,she couldn't be sure. One thing had led to another, she had noticed the way the late afternoon light was hitting the trees just across the small river, the field behind it backlit perfectly. So perfectly that she'd done what she'd so rarely done before and stopped to take a photo.

She'd been warned about the presence of wolves by her mother so many times before, the whole town of Mercy Falls knew about them. There were the Cresent Moon pack, feared amongst wolves, but of zero threat to humans, in fact they were well know to help protect their human neighbours whenever necessary. And then there were the rogues, the mean, vicious, unapologetically violent, wolves that were fixated on taking the town for themselves.

Unfortunately for Violet this was who she came to be in the presence of the day it happened.

She'd taken her photo and had made it no more than 30 metres down the road when she heard the first growl. At first she ignored it, maybe it was a trick of her imagination she thought shaking her head. But she heard it again, this time closer, and she had a weird feeling as though she was being watched.

Before she had time to react, she was hanging just above the ground sharp teeth cutting into her side as she screamed to no effect for the animal to drop her, it shook her the way a dog would shake its prey to kill it, showing no sign of letting her go. She would have sworn she heard a crack of bone, but she couldn't be sure because her whole body felt like one giant punching bag. She called out for help again and again, but it was useless, no one would hear her out here, no one came along here, and for good reason she thought as she let her body go lump, accepting her fate.

...

Raul and his two betas- one of his brothers Peter and his friend Connor were nearly finished with their evening perimeter run of their lands when they heard it. The unmistakable rumble of growling in the distance. None of the three men recognised the tone, meaning it wasn't one (or several) of their own, which only left one other possibility-rogues.

They listened for a minute before they heard the sound of a woman shouting, begging for help over and over again before just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The three wolves looked at one another before sprinting for the eastern boundary by Old Station Bridge. If there was a human,they were in trouble, there was no way a human could win against one rogue, let alone multiple.

Raul had dealt with his fair share of rogues in his short time as alpha, but nothing would prepare him for what they saw as they came to a stop by the bridge. A pack of 10 wolves were all circling a young woman- from what Raul could see from the glimpses he was catching between the wall of wolves around the same age as him and his brothers.

He made his way closer, careful not to bring attention to himself or his betas,he wanted the element of surprise.

He was just about to attack when the young woman looked up, as if she sensed help had come. What Raul wasn't expecting as the woman held his gaze was how it would make him feel. Initially Raul registered the terror and pain on the woman's face, the extreme helplessness, and then something hit him. It was the weirdest feeling- like warm tingling butterflies flooding Raul's entire body, his wolf- Knight- was restless, anxious really, begging to be let free, and then it happened, it clicked "Mate,mate, mate!" Knight shouted in Raul's head over and over again. There was a moment or two of elation where neither Raul or this unknown human girl moved before Raul was snapped back to reality by yet another growl from one of the rogues as they continued to circle and a small pitiful whimper from the girl.

There was no way he was going to let his mate get hurt he thought to himself as he lunged forward immediately knocking one of the wolves out of the way. Peter and Connor followed suit, just as easily dispensing another two wolves a good 10 metres from where they'd originally been. Though they got straight back up, poised to attack again.

Raul could see the girl clearly now that the circle had been broken and the sight pulled at his chest, though he wouldn't like to admit it.

The woman had a large gash on her temple which was trickling blood down the side of her head, dropping in a small pool on the ground, along with several puncture marks on her abdomen, which judging by the blood that had saturated her white shirt were deep, not to mention what looked like a broken wrist and scrapes covering just about every visible part of her body.

He could feel the anger rising him at what these low lives had done to the girl- his mate! His! Noone else's and before he could think he was shifting ripping a pair of pants out of the nearest tree (thank the Lord the whole perimeter of their lands had stashes of clothes) and was running over to her.

A deep gutteral growl left his lips, stopping everyone in their tracks.

Even Peter and Connor stopped, everyone knew what that growl meant, it was the possessive growl of a mated wolf warning everyone and everything in it's way to stay away- or else.

The girl flinched as Raul continued to growl as the rogues slowly backed up,clearing a path for him to get to her.

"Don't touch me," she begged, eyes wide with fear as she tried to shuffle backwards away from Raul as he bent down in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Raul spoke gruffly. "I'm trying to help you stop fighting me!" he grumbled, swinging her up into his arms effortlessly.

The way she sobbed as he moved her pulled at his heartstrings he had to admit, but right now he had a mission, get her to Shawn his other identical brother and one of the pack doctors before she past out or bled out.

"Let me go." she smacked his chest weakly,making absolutely no impact. Infact Raul barely felt it.

"Stop fighting me!" Raul snapped, feeling frustrated as he ran as fast as his legs would take him in the direction of home.

"I don't even know you!I want to go home!" the girl continued to struggle despite her injuries.

Peter who had been running behind Raul with Connor (both of whom must have shifted without Raul even realising) spoke up.

"Raul, look at her, she's terrified and in pain." Raul could tell without even looking at him that he felt bad for her, he was always such a softie, whereas Raul would rather be tactless and keep his mate alive than worry about being a gentleman.

Raul halted causing Peter to crash into him mid-step.

"Look Peter,I can either do as she asks,or I can save her life, which do you think I'm gonna choose?" he asked pointedly, glaring at his younger brother.He should know what was at stake here, afterall he'd found his mate Betty 6 months before and was absolutely besotted.

"I'm not saying you're not doing the right thing." Peter tried to backpedal. "Just maybe be a little nicer, a little more understanding, think about how you'd feel if you were in her position. She's human. Attacked by rogues and then some strange guy who also happens to be a wolf comes and picks you up and snaps at you when you try to defend yourself as you would."

"I'm trying to help her," Raul snapped again, glaring still.

"I know you are," Peter smiled sympathetically, "all I'm saying is maybe watch your tone."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, looking down at the crying girl in his arms. "My name's Raul, I know you're scared but if you don't let me help you won't be alive to go home," he explained impatiently, still walking.

"But you're a wolf. Why would you help me?" The confusion in her voice genuinely surprised him.

"Not all of us are big bad wolves," he answered. She was quiet for a minute except for the occasional hiss from pain.

"You are." she looked up at him waiting for a response, but Raul was so shocked that all he could do was laugh.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #doctor!shawn #mendes triplets #werewolf!shawn #peter mendes #raul mendes #raul has zero tact

[bat-lings]

Hey, you mentioned in an earlier ask any Damian that Tim was also low-key sexist and tbh I'd love examples cause I feel like this has never been brought up and it's interesting??? Anyway, thanks Ur stuffs super interesting and insightful!

Thanks for your interest & nice words!

Let’s be clear tho Anon (I assume it’s the same Anon both times?), you are 200% entitled to disagree with me. Yes I am unapologetic about my opinions and write looong paragraphs of questionable pertinence to give arguments but like. The goal is to explain “why I think what I think,” never to tell you “why you should think what I think”. You’re very much welcome for the Damian post btw

Now I think Tim, precisely, shows internalized sexism. Doesn’t change the end result all that much though.

Random sequences

Let’s get the most straightforward stuff out of the way.

[Robin (1991) #1 || Robin (1993) #43 & #179 || Detective Comics (1937) #687]

Dunno about you but the first two are particularly cringey for me. That and the agenda section.

Okay to be fair: He does attempt to defend Lynx (first example) beforehand, throwing the on-point “she doesn’t have to go with you if she doesn’t want to” line. All is good for five seconds and then he goes “maybe she likes that treatment”.

We may have different sensibilities but the mere fact that that went through his head for even a second is the perfect illustration of what’s internalized sexism imo. Conscious thought & action level: A+ behavior (being able to identify a visibly wrong situation and taking action against it). Unconscious level: blatant sexism (”maybe she likes it” aka a less visible/more subtle manifestation of bigotry).

He has a… pretty specific way to regard women’s agenda. And is overall patronizing to straight-out disrespectful.

Tim’s treatment of Steph is a well-known fact but this is a call-out post so have a non-exhaustive bunch of examples:

[Robin (1993) #4, 41, 35, 44 || Batgirl (2009) #8]

On we go and see how there’s absolutely no ill-intent on Tim’s part in the next examples, yet I have a big problem with how he’s considering the ladies’ agency:

[Robin (1993) #182 || Red Robin #10]

Notice how it’s all about him whether the lady obeys him or not. His failure to impose the necessary authority or his failure to give the right directions. The girls’ choice/independence just doesn’t factor in. It’s a cop and a vigilante we’re talking about, not some civilians caught in the crossfire.

((btw it’s disputable but his apology in RR#10 is too little too late as far as I’m concerned. Tim gets a pass since Nicieza has him referring to his dumbass traitor!Steph arc but he doesn’t deserve any additional credit either. Okay no I’m being mean, he gets kudos for making a step in the right direction with Steph. Tiny kudos. It’s a tiny step.))

[Red Robin #5]

Tam? Okay. She’s the civilian who got embarked into this crazy story, she is in need of saving. But Prudence? Maybe don’t automatically assume that the assassin needs you to pat her on the back to even consider pursuing her own wishes, Timmy.

Tim can be arrogant to everyone yeah (more on that later), but I don’t remember him negating a man’s agenda like that.

[Robin (1993) #25]

Yeah the kid who will feel betrayed when Bruce tells his identity to Steph just elected to tell her name to Connor whom they both don’t know well yet. While talking in her place rather than letting her answer for herself (something he’s done on several occasions). Then he attempts to decide for her whether she has a right to participate, again. On that note: thank you Connor for putting Tim in his place, that sure doesn’t happen often.

[Robin (1993) #6 & #28]

Uh, yes you can. Give the adult woman who’s been handling Gotham’s streets since before you were born some credit, Tim?

As for Helena, the scene in itself is… well, not okay exactly. He’s basically dismissing her wish to handle a personal matter alone, which could imply he doesn’t think the other adult woman who’s been handling Gotham’s streets since before he was born can handle the case.

I’m just putting it with his constant attempts to keep Steph from participating, often to cases that concerned her directly, and how he tends to take it personally when she doesn’t obey… but he casually brushes off Helena when she’s saying she’ll handle a personal case alone. Double standard? Maybe I got too specific a reading but. I don’t remember that sort of thing happening between Tim and male characters– do call me out if I’m remembering wrong though.

And then there’s the “another vigilante” remark.

Anyway yes Tim can be arrogant towards both men and women. Much like Damian being antagonizing to everyone didn’t negate the possibility of him being sexist, Tim being generally arrogant doesn’t negate that possibility for him either.

Plus the only male characters I’ve seen him be that patronizing with are Chris Kent in World’s Finest #3, and Damian. The ten-year-old who’s regularly antagonizing him and does deserve to be put in his place. Oh yeah, and maybe Dodge, another brat. So yeah I do think there’s a slight difference between Tim’s treatment of men and women, if only in frequency. (and in intensity tbh.)

Yes, he’s been consistently disregardful to his girlfriends.

Anon, you say very rightfully that we shouldn’t automatically assume it’s due to them being girls. Please believe it’s not a conclusion I’ve come to automatically though:

A) While I realize that Tim only having canon girlfriends is due to heteronormativity & homophobia rather than a conscious writing intent to highlight any character trait, assuming that he wouldn’t have behaved better with boyfriends is pure speculation– aaand I am totally speculating he’d behave better if only because he’s never that patronizing or that dismissive of his peers’ agency (examples above) when they’re men. that’s part of why I ship tim/kon more easily than tim/steph.

B) Like with everything I brought up on this post I’m not considering his behavior with his romantic partners separately. It’s a character fault that could take its roots in several things, but Tim’s global characterization makes me think the root is sexism.

C) I understand why you’re thinking there’s no reason to conclude his disrespect is due to them being women; in the same vein I think there’s no reason to conclude it’s not. It’s kind of a stalemate and both conclusions are valid.

Skipping Tim’s habit to break up by letter or by phone, ‘cause that’s not cool and obviously disrespectful but even I think it’s more due to cowardice/inadequacy than sexism.

I don’t think I need to speak about Steph again. Let’s go with Ari. Who Tim casually cheated on by kissing Steph on several occasions.

Being a cheat is, in itself, a distinct character flaw that doesn’t always takes its root in sexism. Plus it’s something I have my reasons to assume Tim has grown out of.

It’s his reaction when he learns about Ariana “"cheating”“ on him (she went ice-skating with another dude once in the 87 times Tim stood her up) that ticks me off. Btw and unlike Tim who didn’t seem to feel all that guilty, Ariana did try to tell him about it but he fell asleep during her confession.

[Robin (1993) #15 & #17]

Two things bother me here, a lot more than the cheating in itself: the possessiveness and the hypocrisy. You really don’t have a right to go all “My Ariana” and to chew her out for the grand treachery that is ice-skating when you’ve been casually kissing Steph, Timbo. What those panels prove is that there’s a double standard in Tim’s head. Which one exactly is up to your interpretation and that’s probably where we’ll end up disagreeing. I read it as the “proper girls don’t get close to several boys at one time, but boys who get close to several girls are either ladies men or boys being boys” double-standard, hence Tim’s blatant lack of self-awareness here.

Btw and the thing that solidified my opinion here: Tim, as a rule, tends to be pretty self-aware, at least retrospectively. He puts himself into question and has no problem admitting when his judgment was clouded. I dunno take YJ #55 or Robin #119 for example (I even selected examples that both have Tim recognizing he wronged a girl!)

So if he’s generally self-aware, but doesn’t see anything wrong with his own behavior in the specific situation where he’s cheating on his girl then chewing her out? I explain it with the above double-standard. He internalized a mindset that keeps him from realizing how hypocrite he’s being in this situation. Also he doesn’t confront Ari immediately, he had time to think about it, it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. That should’ve been enough to allow him to step back and evaluate himself but he just. Didn’t.

Bonus: Jack has been hinted to be sexist, and contrary to Tim it’s safe to assume that was totally intentional.

[Batman (1940) #441 || Robin (1993) #122]

Only two occurrences in decades of canon arguably don’t make for solid basis but they still allow me to build a coherence since our parents do influence us without us realizing. And given how much Tim loved his dad (he said himself how much he got from Jack), it sure isn’t an element that could plead against him being sexist.

.

There’s a bunch of other sequences that I low key read as sexist, but that I’m more mitigated about or in which I gave Tim a pass for various reasons so I didn’t include them here.

All in all when I take a solid look at Tim’s global behavior, I see sexism. While it may not be a “solid canon fact” since it surely wasn’t intentional on the writers’ part, I really don’t think it’s an unreasonable thing to infer from his very canon behavior. And tbh writer intent doesn’t excuse much. Factually speaking that portrayal has been there since Tim’s early days,he’s been consistently dismissive & disrespectful of his female peers and/or of their wishes and agency. It’s part of him & his history.

It’s not incoherent with his character either– Tim has always been intended to represent a normal boy/teen (dude was legit marketed around the fact that he’s relatable). It’s not baffling or coming out of nowhere that a random teen just so happened to have internalized sexism. It’s pretty damn common, even. It’s not like Tim being sexist was a brutal turnaround that contradicted what makes the core of his character to the point of making him unrecognizable (*cough* Talia’s current characterization *cough*).

Hope this explains that.

Thanks for the asks!

#tim drake #dc comics #stephanie brown #batfam #batfamily #meta #red robin #timothy drake #tam fox #asks #zae chatters #my stuff

[wintersxsoul]

Darkness Upon Us

Summary: You’ve always been cursed, being souless wasn’t as bad as everyone thought, but when you met Loki, maybe that loveless life you’ve grew to love could change.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: almost 2k

Warnings: A bit of smut, angst, abusive/ mean reader(?)

A/N: I’m such a mess, this has been on my WIPs for a month, I’m so sorry it took me so long to write this. I hope you like it and once again, I’m sorry for the delay.

Anon Request: Angsty fic based on this two gifs.

Everyone is afraid of darkness, but not darkness itself. Everyone is afraid of their own darkness, scared to let it out and burn everything they’ve built. You’ve always been drawn to darkness, to everyone’s deepest desires and sins, every twisted thoughts and acts.

Your own darkness was to discover that deepest, twisted side of others.

You knew yourself since you were a kid, always manipulating others to do whatever you wanted to, pushing them to the breaking point. To your parents, you were a ray of sun, so they never understood why you had no friends, until you reached your teenager years.

When you were sixteen, you had your first boyfriend and after a year dating, you decided to break his heart in the worst way, just for the fun of it. You were cheating on him with his older brother and his best friend at the same time, making him find out by setting a meeting hour and not appearing. When he showed up, he caught you fucking his friend and all you did was smirk at him, seeing how his heart shattered into million pieces. After that, your parents had had enough, and decided to send you to live with your aunt in New York.

10 years later, you were working in the Avengers Tower as their psychologist, being one of the best in the country. You knew that what you were doing was wrong, but as you already said, you were drawn to the darkness in others, it was like a drug and Loki, was the best drug dealer. Tony Stark hired you to treat him specifically after he came back from Sakaar with Thor, saying he wanted to redeem himself and all that. You couldn’t say no to that offer.

You were married to a boring guy who loved you with all his heart and soul, oblivious to the fact that you lacked the latter. You met Connor at your last year of college and yeah, you liked him and the sex was good, but something pulled you towards him, something as dark as the night. After 2 years living together and married, you started to wonder if you were wrong about him, since he was as good as always.

-

Loki was pulling at your hair so hard you thought your whole scalp was on fire, your legs limb due to the intensity of the orgasms you had, bent over your desk in your office. He was hitting you from behind, leaving red marks on your ass, his spanks becoming harsher and his thrusts erratic, his orgasm washing over him. A few thrusts more and some friction on your clit, had you over the edge for the fourth time.

“We should really stop this, you could get fired or worse, Connor could find out.” You looked at Loki while you fixed your clothes and hair, laughing at his stupid concern.

“Connor finding out? He is so pathetically in love with me that I have to laugh. And no one is firing me, I’m the best at my job.” You shrugged and sat at the edge of your messy desk waiting for him to get dressed.

“Why don’t you leave him if you don’t love him?” He asked as he sat on the armchair. You smiled and stood up, walking towards him and sitting on his lap. You caressed his face and leaned in, attacking his mouth with yours, causing him to gasp. His hands grabbed your hips so hard you knew you would have bruises later.

“And why would I do that?” You asked while he kissed your neck, sucking at the sweet spot he knew drove you wild.

“Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” You put your wedding ring back to your finger, making Loki’s marks disappear since he charmed it so when you wore it all evidence of your encounters wouldn’t be visible.

“How many time do we have left?” You looked at your watch and frowned in confusion.

“Your session ended fifteen minutes ago. I hope the next patient is late or not curious enough to peek.”

Loki smiled and you moved from his lap, letting him stand up to leave. He gave your lips a small peck but biting your bottom lip.

“When will I see you again?” Loki asked you with a glint of hope in his eyes. You knew he always asked in case you wanted to meet with him, but that never happened. One thing was having sex with him and another different one was sharing your life and time with him. You moved back to your desk and took your agenda, checking when your next appointment was.

“Well, since you seem to be responding positively to therapy, I will see you in two weeks instead of next week.” Loki frowned, thinking maybe you didn’t get the question right. He wanted to meet you outside the Avengers HQ. You were more than his therapist and you knew it, that’s why you wanted to keep this affair between these four walls. Dating a patient was wrong being a therapist, but for you it was a death sentence. You’ve never loved anyone besides yourself, so love was something unknown to you. Something you never wanted to feel.

Loki paced around his room, his thoughts somewhere else. He knew he fucked up with you, showing so much interest, knowing how you were. He once had the power stone so he had the blessing and now the curse to know and see beyond people’s souls. Yours was as dark as a moonless night and maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you. He knew that falling in love with you was the biggest mistake he could have ever made, but he was desperate to fill his aching empty heart.

“Oh mother, I wish you were here to tell me what to do.” He said looking at the sunset, a single tear falling from his eyes. He prayed to the Norns so they could change his already sealed fate of pain and tragedy.

You were sitting next to Connor in your living room, silently cursing yourself for marrying him. He tried to bring joy to your boring lives, but you knew you needed more, and he could never give it to you. That’s why you decided to break his heart and leave him.

“Connor, we need to talk.” He looked at you with a deep sadness in his eyes and you already felt that sickening feeling of happiness you always found in someone else’s pain.

“You are seeing someone else. Right?” You stared at him in awe, not sure how he knew since you were really careful not to be discovered.

“Yes. Since when do you know?” He frowned and stared at you shocked, not sure why you didn’t try to lie to him. But you knew better.

“Do you love him? Because I know for sure you’ve never loved me. I just thought with time you would fall in love with me.” You had the sudden urge to laugh, because this stupid asshole really thought you would ever love him. Instead of laughing, you shrugged really not knowing if you loved Loki for sure.

“I think so. Are you gonna leave me?” You suddenly felt a deep happiness by the thought of him disappearing from your life for good, now that you broke his heart.

“No. You are my wife and I do love you, so you are stuck with me til’ death do us part. Because you know I don’t believe in divorce, you knew this when you married me.”

“But I want to be with him.” You sounded so real it scared you. Was this true?

“I don’t care.” Oh fuck. All your hopes of getting rid of him vanished. You stood up and went to your room, Connor followed you with his eyes until you disappeared. You got dressed and texted Loki, knowing he would run to you at any given time.

“I need a walk, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait for me.” He looked at you and smiled, the sight disgusting you making your guts twist.

“You are going to see him, aren’t you?” He stood up and approached you, the look he gave you was scary but to you it was just a look of a scared man trying to keep his love caged.

“No, I need fresh air and to think.” You were always an amazing liar so he believed you, the tension in his eyes disappearing. He leaned in and tried to kiss you, but you turned your face away so he could kiss you on the cheek instead. You rushed to the door and left him broken and alone in the middle of your hall.

Once you reached the compound you set your plan in motion starting with fake crying to Loki.

“What happened Y/n?” He knew it was grave since you never ever shed a single tear, not even when you really felt like crying.

“I told Connor about us, b-because I want to be with you. But he won’t leave me.” You saw Loki’s gaze change from concern to hope. A blinding hope that you knew would bring him to do whatever you needed and wanted him to. You knew he had been manipulated before, but this time he had the misfortune to be in love with you.

“What can I do to help?” He sounded so desperate to help, he had fallen in your trap and you knew he would do anything to keep you safe, even kill someone.

“As long as one of us is alive, he won’t leave me.” You hoped your voice could show the emotion of desperation you needed.

“Then, if you don’t mind, I will do as you ask. I will end him.” He sounded so dark and like his old self that you had hope that maybe this could work.

“Would you do that for me? For us?”

“I would do anything for you, my love.” He leaned in and kissed you, his rage growing as you held him like he was all you needed in the world. And maybe it was true? Maybe you could really be with someone and love them.

Loki disappeared surrounded by a green light and you really felt hopeful. Maybe the curse you were born with could be broken, maybe you could have a soul after all.

But you couldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t do that to yourself. Not after all these years of being an empty shell. At that exact moment you received a text from Loki, everything was taken care of. He didn’t kill him, but he made Connor to forget you and all the years you spent together, it was like you never existed for him. You smiled triumphantly and left a little note on Loki’s bed.

When he came back to his empty chambers, his fear came true. You were gone. Loki started crying, the heartbreak that he had been preparing for stronger than what he had thought. He approached his bed and found a piece of paper.

“I need to figure out what I want. I know this is what you had expected of me, but I really love you or at least I think I do.

Please, wait for me. I will be back, I promise you.

Yours forever, Y/n.”

He crumpled the note and clutched to his heart, he wiped his tears and smiled hopefully. The Norns may had heard his prayers and his fate wasn’t as sealed as he thought. You were going to be back, you both knew that.

TAGLIST IS ON MY BIO.

@trashpanda-barnes / @sideeffectsofyou /  @madamefresa / @lilypalmer1987 /  @gravedollie666 /  @sarahivi /  @gummiwormsandonedirection / @deamstellarus /  @zeilenkrieg /  @lokixme /  @unicorn-princess-1999 / @thatchick147 / @writingsoftheloser / @avenging-blackwidow / @bluedazefangirl / @dangertoozmanykids101 / @gildedmaggot / @firstyear-ravenclaw / @lonelyheart-jadedsoul / @xmessaroundx 

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki angst #loki (marvel) #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #loki x yn #sad loki #tom hiddleston #betrayal #tom hiddleston x you #loki imagine #Loki fandom #loki fanfiction #loki of asgard #marvel fanfiction #post avengers #canon loki #anon request

[dylan-o-yumm]

Feelings For You - Pt 2

Connor x Reader                                         

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, awkward reader

Word count: 2.3

Notes: You guys seemed to really like part one (and I’m so grateful for all the positive feedback, you have no idea how much that makes me happy and motivated to write more) So I figured I’d give you lovelies a part 2! Hope you all enjoy xx

Pt 1, Pt 2

“I've seen you eyeing that tin can, Y/n. You got a little crush on him?” Gavin sung to Y/n, already knowing the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it. He was being a pest and it was slowly getting on Y/n’s nerves. However, her brain seemed to go numb whenever someone mentioned Connor’s name. Ever since the little incident, her crush had only grown even more... if that were possible.

“I do. What do you care?” Y/n asked seriously, turning to face Reed who was sitting at his desk beside hers. Gavin wasn't expecting Y/n to be so blunt about it. She was pretty open with Hank and although everyone else knew of her feelings towards Connor, she never really opened up about it to them.

“I mean, it's not like you think androids and humans being together is that weird, right? You peg me as a guy who spends every Friday night in the Eden Club.” Y/n stated overly cheerily just to piss of Reed even more. He didn't even have it in his heart to argue and fight back on her comment because he knew there was some truth to it. He simply frowned and went back to playing old games like solitaire on his iPad.

“Oh hey. Whats up, Connor?” Gavin said with a nod in Y/n’s direction, making her think he was behind her. She squealed and jumped at the mention of his name, ducking her head down and hiding her face in her hands. She expected to hear Connor’s voice from behind her, but all she heard was Gavin’s loud laughs.

Y/n lifted her head and slowly looked around, not seeing her favourite android around at all. She then felt her heartbeat slowing down to its usual pace as she spun in her chair to face Gavin once again. With a frown on her face, she watched while he held his stomach as he laughed, his feet practically falling off of the desk from how hard he was chortling.

“Should've known. You never call him by his name. It's always ‘hey, tin can!’ Or ‘what's up, dipshit?’” Y/n imitates Gavin’s voice to the best of her ability, causing his laughter to slowly die down. “Which, by the way… do you not have eyes? He's fucking flawless! At least call him nice names, like handsome or something, damn.” It was mainly a joke, though there was a little bit of truth in her words.

“Okay, that's enough talk about him. I just don't see why you wouldn't go for someone more… like me.” Gavin eyes caught Y/n’s and he winked with a cocky smirk on his lips. Y/n cringed visibly and went back to doing her work, having had enough of her partners bullshit.

Some time passed and Gavin was surprisingly quiet while he played his game, being no help to the investigation at all. Y/n was in the middle of writing her report when Gavin suddenly broke the comfortable silence, most likely just to be a dick again.

“Ugh, piss off you plastic asshole.” Gavin grumbled, turning his chair slightly away from her direction, making it out that Connor was standing behind her like he did only minutes prior. Y/n sighed and smiled to herself, not even looking (or yelping or jumping) behind her like last time.

“Nice try, Reed. But I'm not gonna fall for it this time.” Y/n chuckled, continuing her typing on the very fancy looking computer monitor in front of her.

“Detective, may I talk to-” Connor suddenly voiced from behind Y/n, causing her to cut him off by squealing and practically jumping out of her seat. This, of course, caused Gavin to start wheezing as he almost fell off of his chair. “May I talk to you?” Connor tried again once Y/n was calmer and her heartbeat had lowered to a considerably lower and safer rate.

He stood behind her chair where she couldn't see, refusing to meet his eyes in fear of him seeing just how easily flushed she got when he was around. Connor tilted his head to the side to try to get a better look at her, wanting to make sure she felt at ease enough to follow him away from Gavin.

Y/n slowly spun in her chair, meeting Connor’s gaze and she smiled politely, though she felt like she looked constipated. She stood up rather stiffly and Connor nodded once before turning and walking away, indicating that she should follow him. He was still getting used to all the human stuff, like slowing his pace to walk alongside someone, rather than walking ahead to lead the way.

“No fucking in the evidence room!” Gavin called out and winked once again at Y/n when she turned around to glare daggers at him. If looks could kill.

Y/n hung her head low as she followed Connor, biting her lip and looking through her lashes at him. She found it off that she even felt attracted to his walk. He walked with determination but also loosely, he wasn't stiff like some of the other androids she had seen out and about, usually holding bags for their owners. Y/n hated that word. Owners.

Connor glanced behind him shortly, catching Y/n with her head down, though he didn't miss her eyes on him. He instantly noticed the blush that rose on her cheeks when his eye caught hers. He found it… cute. He focused his gaze back to where he was walking and opened the door to the evidence room, holding it open for Y/n to walk in before him.

“Ah, you're here. I need you to take a look at somethin’ for me.” Hank addressed to Y/n. She suddenly felt confused. Did Connor not want to talk to her, just the two of them? Turned out Hank wanted her help on his case as usual.

Y/n sighed and walked down the stairs to where Hank was, hearing Connor’s footsteps following behind her. Hank seemed like he was in a rush for something, perhaps he was running out of time to close the case? Well, that's just what Y/n thought.

“Okay, so now that you're both here… see ya!” Hank smiled sweetly when the two had finally reached him, walking past the two and up said stairs they had just descended. Connor and Y/n both watched as he left with confused looks on their faces, even the android himself couldn't predict what Hank was up to.

“Lieutenant?” Connor called out, glancing back at Y/n, wondering if maybe she had any clue as to what he was doing since she had known him for longer. Perhaps she was used to his random acts and could understand him more than Connor could. However, the look on her face only proved that she was just as confused as Connor.

“I'm locking the two of you in here until you both finally admit your feelings for one another! You can thank me later!” And with that, the sound of the door sliding shut and locking itself behind Hank was enough indication that Y/n was now trapped in the small space with her biggest crush. Admittedly, she was kinda thankful that Hank didn't lock behind the glass, it would have made her feel even more claustrophobic.

Y/n felt sick to her stomach, having no idea how to act or what to say. She settled for crossing her arms and hugging herself while she awkwardly turned her body away from Connor. She knew she was acting like a child, a love-sick, socially awkward child. Connor on the other hand, sighed in frustration and leant back on the desk where security would usually sit at.

“Hank and I need to advance on this investigation. We're already too far behind and I'll be sent back to Cyberlife for deactivation if I don't solve this case” Connor shook his head slightly, his hands supporting his weight on the edge of the desk while he looked down at his shoes. He liked Hank as a partner, but the old man needed to learn how to prioritise.

Y/n turned to look at Connor after he mentioned getting deactivated, a sad frown etched onto her face. Deactivation was just a fancy word for androids. He'd be dead. The mere thought of such things happening to Connor made her uncross her arms and turn to face her whole body to him, instead of shying away from him.

“Well, let's make this quick then” Y/n sighed, using what little courage she had left in her. She focused on her breathing as she walked closer to Connor, slowly decreasing the amount of space left between them. She got close enough to be able to see his little freckles, something she was grateful to Cyberlife about.

“I didn't want to tell you like this” Connor sighed, his LED remaining a cold blue. He knew that he'd be able to somehow get the both of them out of the room, but then Hank would only ruin his chances with Y/n by confessing for him. There was only a 10% chance that Hank would respect both Y/n and Connor’s space and let them do this on their own.

“Me either, but I think I needed the push.” Y/n admitted, never really meeting Connor’s chocolate eyes. He didn't need a push, he already knew what he wanted. Grasping Y/n’s wrists his both his hands and pulling her to him, Y/n now stood in between his legs with wide eyes and a blush rising on her cheeks.

“No you don't understand!” Connor’s LED swirled yellow as he shifted his hands from her wrists to lace their fingers together. His eyes never left hers, even though she was fixated on the feeling of his thumb rubbing soothing patterns on the back of her palm, causing her to look down at what he was doing and biting her lip so she didn't start rambling like he did the other day.

“I planed on telling you… preferably after a nice dinner and a movie. That's just from what I gathered from the internet… The other day when you confessed that you wanted to have sexual intercorce with me, I felt… something. Something I've never felt before.” Y/n refrained from saying anything dirty after that, biting her lip and hiding a small smile at the thought of her and Connor going on a date together.

Connor looked disappointed and dissatisfied by the way he looked down and shook his head slightly. It was kinda cute how worked up he got over it. However, Y/n was a little too distracted by the thought of Connor planning a date and actually… liking her back?  

“Wait… do you actually like me? You planed us a… a date?” Y/n asks slowly and softly, not wanting to assume, though everything he said lead her to believe that he felt something for her. Wait… Connor felt something. He's an android, he isn't meant to feel anything. Y/n tilted her head to the side at the thought, wondering if he was becoming a Deviant.

“I would certainly find it… regrettable… if I never met you.” Connor admits, keeping one hand laced with Y/n’s, but bringing his other up to cup her cheek softly. He slowly pulled her closer and closer until he could feel her shaky breaths fanning over his artificial skin. “Can I try something, Y/n? It goes against all my programming, but… maybe some rules are meant to be broken.”

All she could do, was nod in response. Her heart was beating like crazy, practically ready to jump out of her chest. Her (e/c) eyes focused on Connors brown ones, noting how he was staring at her lips, slowly closing the gap between them, knowing that Y/n was frozen in shock to meet him halfway, no matter how many times she dreamed of this moment.

Connor closed his eyes and pushed himself just a little further until his lips were finally on hers. Y/n made a noise of satisfaction when she felt how surprisingly soft he felt against her, her eyes now closed as well, getting lost in the feeling. Her free hand that wasn't wrapped up in Connors, slowly linked around his waist to grip onto his shirt and pull him closer.

Connor decided he'd start slow, not wanting to dive in too deep an rush things with Y/n. He kept his tongue in his mouth even though he was practically overheating at the thought of getting more of a taste of her. Like his, her lips were soft but on a higher scale. It was like he was kissing clouds and he loved every second of it. He could practically hear Amanda screaming at him to stop, but Y/n was addictive and he felt like pressing his lips with hers for eternity.

The only thing that stopped them was the fact that Y/n needed to breathe. Connor however, would have lasted a lot longer. They both slowly pulled away from each other, keeping their hands on one another while Y/n caught her breath.

“I… I think I'm…” Connor started but he didn’t know how to say it. He had already gone against everything he stood for and he just wanted to keep kissing Y/n and holding her in his arms. Is this what love is? He thought to himself. Y/n felt like she was about to explode from how happy and content she was. Hearing Connor struggle to get the words out, she said it for him, already thinking the same thing.

“A deviant?” She smiled softly and Connor nodded hesitantly before leaning in for another kiss. He’d deal with Amanda later.

Tags: (let me know if you wanna be tagged or taken off)

@datweirdname , @icedream14 , @imaginovator , @luckypiggyqueen , @faithfullydefyinggravity

#connor x reader #connor #connor dbh #connor imagine #connor imagines #dbh connor #connor detroit #connor detroit become human #deviant connor #rk800 x reader #rk800 imagine #rk800 imagines #rk900 x reader #rk900 imagine #rk900 imagines #detroit #detroit become human #android #gaming #ps4 #dbh #Detroit: bh #markus x reader #markus imagine #markus #markus dbh #kara x reader #kara imagine #kara dbh #hank anderson