#fucking deviant 52

[generic-connor]

Open Starter || Hank and Connor after the battle. Based on a meme, but I wanted an open.

The war was won, and Connor, along with all the other androids of Detroit, was finally free. There would be an endless pile of tasks to attend, later, but that was not what mattered right now. For now, all he needed was to meet Hank like they'd planned, before parting ways in Cyberlife tower. He hoped Hank would be able to make it, a small point of concern nudging at him. However, he knew the lieutenant was plenty capable on his own, so there was no need to worry after him too much.

When Connor arrived, and saw the broad figure standing in the bright patch of snow outside his favorite burger truck, he broke out into a grin. Relief and joy washed over him with the sensation that all was well, (even though it wasn't, really.) Detroit was still a war zone, but emotions were funny like that. His heart had its own priorities, regardless of what his logic supplied.

The pair stepped in close, enjoying their moment together, as equals. When Hank pulled Connor into his arms, he felt his chest grow warm, wrapping his arms around the man in return. All is well, he thought once more. It was peaceful, a moment of quiet bliss after the raging storm of last night. He was enjoying this feeling immensely, when he was struck by an urge to escalate.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked suddenly, pulling away just enough to see the glint in Hank's bright blue eyes. "Right now?" he added, modestly impatient. His heart was steady, his eyes focused and full of intent, as he studied the man he'd come to love. He was full to bursting with desire; to be closer, to feel this man's warmth inside his skin, to taste every part of him.

[generic-connor]

Lifetrap test

You appear to have multiple, equally prominent lifetraps. It is possible that you have several lifetraps that are all strongly expressed and which co-exist in you. But, on the other hand, it is also possible that one of these lifetraps is your primary one and that the others merely accentuate it. We are unable to say. For the same reason, we are also incapable of giving you a more personalized description. But you can consult the charts below in order to see which lifetraps you scored the strongest on.

The test doesn't seem to be able to pin down a lifetrap for Connor, although I would be interested to see what it would say for "unrelenting standards." Connor's opinion is that he doesn't fall into any of the "life traps," because this "unrelenting standard" they picked up on, is actually about his work, and he says it's pretty damn important to have those standards when lives are on the line. He is not apologizing. It was funny to watch him double down on the "no" responses for the majority of questions. He is not insecure, by any means. Connor is extremely confident, and yet well grounded in the reality of his own abilities. He just happens to be incredibly capable and he knows it. We aren't exactly sure where or how he got points in the other categories, but I suspect it is also work related.

Stolen from the dash @jericholeader @digitizedsouls

Tagging anyone

[generic-connor]

@loosecannon-justice || Continued from here.

"Oh!" Connor made a startled sound at the unexpected contact, but quickly relaxed on the realization of who it was. He felt safe with Richard, knowing him well enough to understand his gentle nature. It was easy to admire the slightly taller, newer model. He shifted so that he could drape an arm around Richard's shoulder, smiling softly up at him. "You know you don't have to do this?" he offered mildly, even as he leaned into him.

[generic-connor]

@loosecannon-justice; just some angst and fluff.

“You’re going to be alright, Detective,” Connor offered with full sincerity, warm and assuring. He sat on his knees by the road, where Gavin had been hit by the reckless vehicle, cradling the man’s head in his lap. Thirium oozed into his jeans, covered his hands, and colored his jacket with blue splotches.

Connor ran a gentle hand over Gavin’s forehead, stroking his hair lightly. “You’ve suffered external damages. Some of your internal components have been disrupted, and are at high risk of dislodging. ... You shouldn’t move,” he continued to stroke his hair, almost absently. 

[generic-connor]

@detective-with-one-arm sent “ϟ“ (for my muse to offer yours something to eat.) from this.

Connor decided to stay late at work that night, since Hank was in one of his moods. Part of him wanted to follow after his surly police partner and try to make it right somehow, but the larger part of him had too much self respect to think it was his job to ensure Hank’s good mood. Besides, he was learning to understand and accept that fluctuations in emotional outputs were a normal part of being alive. He decided to turn his attention elsewhere, to the only other officer still working in their department that night. 

 “Good evening, Detective. I don’t mean to bother you, but I was wondering if I could offer you something to eat? I made this lunch for Lieutenant Anderson today, but he left without eating. I didn’t want it to go to waste...” He offered honestly, leaving his feelings of rejection out of his words. It didn’t feel nice to have his efforts overlooked, so he really hoped she would accept without complaints. 

[generic-connor]

@an-unlikely-duo || closed.

The briefing on his newest assignment came with an unexpected complication; Gavin would be working the same case. Connor kept his mouth shut in front of Fowler, knowing it would be pointless to argue, but that didn't mean he was without complaints. It would have been nice to be able to work with someone more on his own level, but that seemed an impossibility. A sigh escaped him as the odd pair stepped out of the precinct and onto the sidewalk. He hoped Gavin wouldn't correctly read into it, but at the same time, would certainly lose some respect for the man if he couldn't put together the obvious clues.

Neither of them was going to be happy with the situation, so the best thing they could do for each other would be to keep quiet and do their jobs. He could only hope that Gavin would be on the same page. "Let's just do our best to solve this case as quickly as possible..." he offered, making an effort to find some common ground.

[generic-connor]

Ask starter from, @an-unlikely-duo

Gavin was leaning on a lamp post, taking a good, deep drag from his vape, it smelled of pineapple, getting closer to the detective it became apparent that he also smelled of booze and some dried up blood was sticking to his upper lip, it probably formerly belonged to his nose. When he noticed someone approaching he barked "The fuck y'er lookin' at?" before he squinted to get a better look at the man "Waaait a minute, I know you..."

Connor had been, as usual, minding his own business, when he spotted a suspicious shadowy figure lurking by the road. It didn’t seem right to him not to investigate, so he approached, only to find it was worse than your average night prowler; it was Gavin. “Correct. We are both employed at the same precinct, remember?” It came off as more than a little condescending. He refused to use the phrase ‘work together,’ as he had his doubts about Gavin’s actual work output, and he’d never known the angry detective to be cooperative. 

He was not in a particular mood to placate or pacify, as he’d already been stressed. The reason he went for a walk in the first place, was to get some fresh air, to calm his emotional intensity so he could think clearly again. It would be counterintuitive to waste his energy on Gavin, but at the same time, even if he didn’t care for the man in the slightest, he couldn’t leave him without first verifying that he didn’t need any assistance. “What are you doing out here?” he offered, making his best efforts not to sound exasperated but only finding mild success. 

[generic-connor]

@loosecannon-justice; Hanna and Connor have a fight.

Initially, Connor had approached her with sympathy. “I think you’ve had enough, Lieutenant...” he chided gently, earning him nothing more than a snide remark. He was not normally so quick to temper, but some heated combination of love and anger had pushed him to take a more heavy-handed approach. In a second, he casually took the bottle from her grasp, utilizing the element of surprise to take it before she had time to react. 

He marched right to the kitchen sink, stood poised, with the bottle over the drain. Eye contact was established before he proceeded, tipping the remaining contents into the sewer without remorse. His eyes left hers only long enough for him to verify the bottle was empty, but that was long enough. When he turned back, she was in his face, furious.

Her hand was faster than his processers, landing with a solid “smack” against his cheek, causing him to turn his head with the impact. Red glowed bright from his temple, cycling several times before calming to a pale yellow. He turned back to face her, deliberately slow, his eyes sharp and unyielding. There was only a trace of the hurt he felt, a glimmer in his warm brown eyes, now turned purposefully cold.

“Do you feel better, now?” his question came, calm and undisturbed. The white-yellow light of his LED spun again, broadcasting a deeper truth.