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detroitconnors

mission failed

#cahplauw #he shotted

alpacinosgf

#h.a #i was busy thinkin bout #bears

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ? ————— i don’t need need to go home and rest . i need to solve this case and you need to let me have the chance . ———————— connor pierce ( human au )

#vis #004.#kissus

deliciousnecks

The Remaining (2014)

#vis #004.#i hate this cyka

appei

SIGH

#dont look at me

MY NAME IS CONNOR ———————— i’m the android sent by cyberlife . connor ( rk800 )

#aesthetic.#owo

bloody-hands-veins

#aesthetic.

elevenspond-deactivated20250819

Detroit: Become Human locations:

The frozen garden

#aesthetic.#eeee #cute

chloe, markus, nines and gavin in the 4 way hand holding meme for wanting to kiss connor despite him having coffee breath, or mumbling the composition of their spit under his breath

#tbd.#its hyperfixating hours

what was the chief thinking, anyway? honestly, having connor is like bringing a gun to a fucking knife fight. the motherfucker is ruthless. it’s almost inhuman, the way he bores into a soul with those cold eyes of his. if he looked at me that way... i’d rip him limb from fucking limb; his gaze picks your disposition apart slowly, piece by piece, until you’re nothing. i don’t know he does it, turn it on and off like that, i mean. pierce is a decent man at the best of times, obedient (like a fucking lap dog. typical.), fun enough to drink with (man can hold his liquor, though it goes straight to the apples of his cheeks), too nice for my liking. but i’ve seen him. face to face with an inmate, deep brown eyes empty, and overflowing all at once. i go off like a supernova, and pierce is the void. deafening, silent, all encompassing. he’s infuriating. of fucking course he is. everything about him. the curls on his forehead, and the crown of his head that can never seem to stay in order. his 8 am stale coffee breath (brush your teeth, are you brain dead?). the fact that he’s a goddamn know-it-all brat. that stupid quarter. the way he taps his pen on his desk, and the way he chews the end when he’s thinking.

infuriating. infuriating, irritating, enraging. and, well, to be perfectly fucking frank, i’m hopelessly in love with him. operative word being hopeless. every fucking inch of his scrappy self. typical. the man is a walking bonfire, and i guess that’s the problem with being flammable. i’m an oily rag. and if i step too close, i’m sure i’ll go up in flames. wouldn’t that be just fucking peachy for him? to watch me burn up in his atmosphere. i bet he’d get a real kick out of it. i’d like to find 500 men who look exactly like connor and break all of their hearts in a different way, just because i could. not that it’d help. hopeless, fucking hopeless.

‘gavin.’ i cast my eyes upward, right into those viper’s nests. ‘what the fuck do you want, pierce?’ hopeless.

#g.r #what the fuck is this #i had fun laddies