i wanted to share an update regarding Unbound. due to increasingly infrequent updates, i thought it only fair to confirm that i've decided to put the project on hiatus until further notice 💔
[detailed explanation and general yapping in the cut]
this was NOT a decision i made easily. i love the original story so very much. more than our parts is extremely important to me, having been the springboard for meeting and befriending some truly incredible people
exploring it again from nines' pov has been an absolute blast in its own right. ive grown extremely attached to him as a character, dubious "canon"-ness aside, and would sooner dry swallow an anvil than half ass ANY stories with him at the helm
but unfortunately, ive hit a bit of a creative wall, and i don't want to reach a point where i'm forcing myself to write rather than enjoying the process.
going into 2026, i want to make space for other creative projects that have been calling to me for a while: including other fics (both dbh and non-dbh), art and some original writing which im really REEEALLLYYY excited about!!!
i know this may come as a disappointment, and i just want to say that i really appreciate all of your patience, support, and understanding 🫂 thank you all so VERY much for sticking with me: i'm not going anywhere, just shifting focus for a bit
((also, deliberately referring to this as a hiatus rather than a cancellation. as im not saying ill NEVER return to the project. it's not gone, just resting for now ❤️))
hi everyone <33 i have fallen on some difficult financial times, made worse by some unfortunate news i recently received, and i thought it would be worth throwing it out there that i accept donations on ko-fi <33
as a show of gratitude: if you diiiiid donate and wanted to throw out a fic request, i would gladly honour it 👉👈 i have a donation guide on my ko-fi, this may cover shorter oneshots (2-4K), longer oneshots (4-8K) and a limited number of multichapters (maximum 20K)
i am open to pretty much any ideas you might have in terms of ships, nsfw content, ocs, x reader, etc!! other fandoms as well (potentially, it just depends on how familiar i am with them 🙏)
if you are interested, but want to check something first, please feel free to dm :)
Facing the mortal consequences of a reckless charge into danger, Gavin fears this may be the end. His only regret: he will never see Nines again, never get the chance to say or do all the things he wished he could. As he drifts into increasingly elaborate fantasies, glimpses of reality shine through—offering a reason to hold on.
But how much of what he sees (be it comfort or bloodshed) is real, and will he get the chance to say goodbye?
A More Than Our Parts 'What If' Oneshot // AO3
Pairing: Reed900
Tags: Fight Scenes, Hallucinations, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Whump, Loss and Mourning, Open Ending
Warnings: Violence/Injury Detail, Major Character Death sort of
‼️ LATE FIC SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MORE THAN OUR PARTS ‼️
Gavin had been able to fire a shot at his captor, but it wasn't enough.
He’d been too weak, hopelessly disoriented and beaten within an inch of his life. The bullet was fired blindly, embedding itself in the other man's leg. Slowing him down, but ultimately achieving nothing, only making him angrier.
Retaliation was swift, with a bullet aimed far more decisively, piercing through his chest.
Shit —
His knees buckled, and he collapsed against a nearby wall. Wheezing breaths through a deflating lung, as adrenaline surged in his veins. The world began to fade around him, but Alex ensured he’d be seen.
Gripped by the back of the head, Gavin was forced to look up. The muzzle of the pistol was shoved callously between his eyes, so hard it notched a groove in his skin.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.”
The cold steel was dragged downward, tracing the line of his nose. Its movement was slow, no doubt intentionally, a ploy to aggravate heightened anxiety. This was before it was shoved full brunt into his mouth. Clattering against his teeth, catching spongy flesh, as Gavin reeled in shock.
He coughed around the intrusion, the exertion burning , like molten lead in his shattered torso. Even amidst a barrage of brutality, this action managed to stand out. It felt more…personal. Invasively so.
He knew what it was. A final act of humiliation, some demented power play fueled by moralistic mania.
“Any last words?” Alex asked, a sadistic grin tugging his lips.
Gavin couldn’t respond; the bastard knew this. Unable to do anything else, he glared through the growing fog. Adamant that his eyes spoke, with due conviction, the resentful words he was unable to vocalise.
Yeah. See you in Hell, motherfucker.
Then, he heard it.
A voice.
It was distant at first, but rising quickly in cadence and urgency. Footfalls accompanied it, charging a course down the corridor towards the warehouse. The door then swung open, sending shockwaves through the room as it struck a wall.
It was difficult to grasp how much time was passing. Everything was becoming hazy, dreamlike, but the intruder soon showed themself. They had emerged from between the shelves, coming face-to-face with Alex—as well as his altar.
It was a twisted display, one he’d constructed to showcase the fruits of his ‘labour.’
Across the crimson-draped table stood the effigy: a jumbled mass of limbs and biocomponents, cruelly wired back into an android. Its eyes bulged, its mouth frozen wide—as though mid-scream, pleading for help that had come too late.
The stranger failed to react. There was no sign of movement, despite the breakneck speed at which they'd appeared.
This led Gavin to consider that his eroding mind was playing tricks, mirroring the macabre mannequin in a phantom duplicate. But through the shadows, bleeding inward from the corners of his sight, he could still make out distinctions.
Strips of blue. An LED, vibrant and alert, cycling red. The distinctive black and white panelling of an all-too-familiar jacket.
…Nines…?
In his mind, the address had been pitiful. Caught between a plea and a prayer, fractured under the weight of fatigue.
No actual sound emerged. Not that it mattered.
Even if he had been able to bypass the encumbrance of a punctured lung, the loaded firearm shoved in his mouth would have silenced him. Reaping nothing but ammunition for an already stocked Alex. Something to dangle in his face before cruelly snubbing him out.
It would have been all the worse, all the more humiliating, if the RK wasn't actually there. A hopeful manifestation; the promise of water in a barren wasteland.
It seemed more likely than the alternative.
After all, Nines had removed himself from the narrative. Divorced from his life, in what proved to be a deeply misguided attempt to keep Gavin safe.
He had to give his mind credit. It was proving surprisingly generous in offering up empty comforts. The promise of seeing his Dad again, as well as the reconciliation of whatever he'd had—or was beginning to have—with his partner.
Then, something strange happened. His hair, which had been balled so possessively into a fist, was unceremoniously released. The gun was also wrenched from his jaw, removing the post that kept it upright, letting his head flop.
His face struck the concrete, skull rattling from the impact. Gavin doubled over, as blood was propelled from his wheezing lips, collecting in a pool beside him. He was fast exhausting the strength needed to stay awake.
But then Alex spoke, with disquieting relish, almost like hunger:
“Welcome home, RK900.”
It was enough to pierce the veil of delirium, as burning skin turned cold. His eyes widened, lids pinned in place, insistent that he remained conscious.
Nines was there—actually there , he’d come for him.
But this inspired a new kind of agony, beyond that igniting his tortured nerves. This was exactly what Alex had wanted. The reason why the detective had been so callously tossed aside. He had never been the prize—merely bait. It had always been Nines, the RK900, intended as the final jewel in his cobalt-stained crown.
Gavin considered the effigy. The peculiar positioning of the hand, hovering over an empty chest. A cavity left purposely vacant, waiting to be filled.
He attempted to call out again, to implore Nines to leave , but even as he fought through the heat, all that emerged was a puff of smoke. A small, pinched wheeze, just enough to attract his attention.
The android looked across the warehouse, turning rigid in horror. His trembling lips parted subconsciously, as though desperate to say something . But whatever it was remained contained. Now was not the time, not with the festering mound of filth blocking his way.
With his jaw snapping back into place, forming a snarl, Nines raised his revolver. Pointed it squarely at the Reaper, as he spoke in a low, commanding growl:
“Detroit Police. Stand down.”
Alex, in an astonishing feat of hubris, laughed . An awful, grating noise, like rusted nails dragging across the concrete walls.
“Now, why would I do that…” He stepped back, nudging his captive with the heel of his boot. “When I’ve got you precisely where I want you?”
Gavin could feel the pressure, leather striking a shattered rib, but pain barely registered. His body was finally beginning to numb, granting him some blessed relief.
Nines watched on, expression darkening in line with his tone. It emerged louder this time, distorted by anger, as well as the frenzied electrical charges which rippled from it.
“Stand down now . Or I’ll shoot.”
“I highly doubt you will.” Gavin felt the weight of steel return to his body. This time, crushed to the back of his skull. “I am not about to forfeit, machine . Surrender all my work, my sacrifice, when I have come so close to fulfilling His will.”
“Just think about this, Alexei,” a new voice interjected. Less vicious than the RK900, but just as forceful. “Don't do anything stupid.”
Gavin was left confused as he attempted to focus on the scene. Decipher the trembling waves that bordered it, and through amorphous blurs, discern shades of colour…
“Listen, dirtbag —If you kill ‘im, this is gonna be a hell of a lot worse for you.”
Bright ones. Offensively garish.
So much that he could only think of two dipshits who’d be caught dead wearing them.
Gavin would have laughed if he’d had the strength, because it really was impressively stupid. The DPD’s golden child, charging blindly into what might’ve been the world’s most obvious trap—and dragging his geriatric partner along for the ride.
Of course, this wasn't totally fair. Gavin had charged first, leaving Connor little option but to follow. Nines would never have forgiven him otherwise, had he not attempted to negotiate, to spare Gavin the final consequence of his recklessness.
This seemed to be what was happening now, but the approach being taken remained unclear. While still able to hear , the sounds in the room had lost definition. Merging like a rush of water, babbling and indistinct.
The interference cleared, but it didn't appear Gavin missed much. Whatever was said had gone down as well as expected.
Alex was chuckling again, cruel and biting, making clear that attempts at persuasion were utterly pointless. “I hadn't expected you to join us, RK800—but you're a welcome bonus. I'm sure I can find room for you in the collection.”
“Over my dead body .” The words propelled viciously from Hank's lips, far more ‘promise’ than they were ‘turn of phrase.’
Because he meant it. After all he had been through, Gavin was sure of that. He would gladly centre himself in the line of fire, laying down his life, if it meant defending his newfound family.
Alex appeared intent on testing this, as with a hum of consideration, the pistol redirected. “If you insist.”
The lieutenant was not given a chance to prove himself. Nines had burned down the wick of suppressed rage, igniting a powderkeg of unbridled fury.
In a flurry of movement, he lunged forward. His gun was abandoned in favour of pinning the killer to the ground, their bodies striking it with a deafening thud.
Alex resisted, clinging to his own weapon with spiteful persistence. A shot rang out, bullet skirting through the air before bouncing off a nearby wall.
He wasn’t able to fire a second time. As he attempted to, his hand was trapped in a vice-like clench. The bones were compressed, slowly and methodically, until no longer able to withstand the pressure.
They snapped like twigs, sharp and sickening, as Alex wailed in pain. The pistol collapsed from his mangled hold, and if Nines had been thinking, it would have been knocked cleanly out of reach.
But he wasn't thinking—his actions were devoid of any logic or reasoning. It was different from the soulless aggression Gavin had witnessed a few days prior, when the RK900 had reset. It was primal. Savage. A wild beast, intent on tearing its prey apart with nothing but tooth and nail.
The scene played out like a movie in an overcrowded theatre. Crucial steps were missed, obscured from view, with Gavin too weak to lean forward or tilt his head.
Through fractured glimpses, he saw the blood—blotching the concrete, spreading out in a widening fan. Alex had wriggled around enough to feel out his weapon, securing it in his uninjured hand. He didn't waste time attempting to shoot. Instead, aiming the butt squarely at the android's temple.
The impact was only enough to stun, but this was all he needed. He pulled his knees upwards, kicking squarely into the android's gut. The resulting propulsion caused him to topple backwards, at which point the man reversed their positions.
Connor, unwilling to risk shooting into the frenzied jumble of limbs, moved closer to assist. He attempted to isolate Alex, who was now striking Nines repeatedly against the head. Synthetic hair and skin receded, revealing a narrow crack in the chassis.
To Gavin, his skull may as well have been shattered. A sickening panic gripped him, made all the worse as blue mingled with red in the surrounding splatter.
He couldn't just watch , weak and powerless, as Nines was brutalised inches away. And so, he attempted to level his palms, pushing against the concrete in hopes of supporting lax weight. Through virtue of sheer determination, his body started to lift.
Except it didn't feel right. His hands had failed to make sufficient contact, the skin free of notches when inspected…
“It's okay—Reed—got you—”
His head was elevated, a feat he had failed to achieve for several minutes prior. Something that required support.
Alex .
But this was impossible. The man in question was still in front of him, writhing and screeching on the floor like a rabid animal.
This touch was different. Clumsy, but gentle. Gavin only caught snippets of what the person was saying, but there was a sense of genuine concern for his grievous state.
A hand was moved to his chest, pressing down, attempting to form a makeshift seal. “You're going—stay with—”
It seemed a pointless delay of the inevitable. Duct tape applied to a torn air mattress. Gavin could no longer feel pain, just a vague suggestion of pressure as the digits pushed deeper.
His breaths were slowing, emerging as shaky, discordant shudders. He fought to stay awake a little longer. Grappling for confirmation that Nines was okay. That he'd gotten the upper hand on his assailant, and would soon walk out of the warehouse safe.
He couldn't die here. Condemned to the ranks of his slaughtered contemporaries. He needed to win this.
He—
There was a pull in his chest, like a cord of elastic snapping in two. A final gasp escaped his lips, choked and shuddered, before the world faded.
***
He stayed there for a moment, drifting through space. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced: a departure from lucidity, but distinct from sleep.
It was disquieting at first, but the more he adjusted, the more serenity he found. Peace in isolation.
But it didn't last long. He was ejected from the vacuum, dumped back unceremoniously into the cold, filthy warehouse.
Except this time, the distortion was gone. Sounds and sights emerged crisp, distinct from one another. Gavin didn't stop to question why , as a clattering noise alerted him to the struggle still ensuing.
Alex, having collapsed against a nearby rack, was pulling himself to his feet. He expelled a deep, guttural snarl before charging ahead, lunging viciously at the androids.
He was the picture of insanity, wild eyes bulging, dark hair plastered to his burning face. Any blows were evaded effortlessly, to which he grew more belligerent, desperate .
Abandoning any notion of honour, he reached for the floor, retrieving a pipe that was abandoned earlier. The first weapon used on Gavin, responsible for the sizable gash in his head.
It proved nowhere near as effective this time, knocked from his grasp before he had a chance to raise it. For all his talk of human superiority, the belief that androids were a flawed imitation of his Creator’s ‘perfect’ design, he was getting his ass handed to him. Pulled from his almighty pedestal by the ears.
As Gavin watched him flounder on even ground, a chuckle rumbled from his lips. But it felt strange, detached, like the sound had emerged from above...
Then, he looked down, realising that his return to reality had not been definitive. Gavin faced himself, the full scope of his broken body, hanging limp in Hank's arms.
What the fuck.
“It's over, Alexei!” Connor called out, pulling attention away from the unsettling snapshot. “There's no sense fighting this. If you come quietly, cooperate with arrest, then it will make it easier for everyone.”
Alex was muttering under his breath. The same three words chattered repeatedly, like a demented mantra. “He will strengthen. He will strengthen. He— ”
It was pathetic. Watching him cling to the warped delusion that this might somehow save him, miraculously renew his dwindling energy, turning the tides of a battle lost.
Staring at Connor, eyes gleaming with murderous intent, he made another advance. Nines nudged his brother aside, obstructing the path, as he reached forward and restrained the man by the base of his jaw.
Momentum was grounded as Alex seized, before writhing around in a vain attempt to escape. Nines did not yield, just looked on with cold, pitiless eyes. Their sheened grey was a honed blade, poised to thrust forward, delivering justice for all the lives the monster had taken.
The Reaper was forced against the table, a candle knocked loose in the struggle. It caught on the end of the velvet draping, igniting a small blaze. No one noticed, although Alex still managed to capture its light. Held fiercely in his gaze as he hissed at Nines:
“You are an abomination .”
A fist collided with his contorted features. The nose was flattened, bent to the side at an unnatural angle, streaming like a faucet. As Alex reeled back, howling in anguish, he must have understood.
He had lost; a reality even the deepest, most gnarled roots of his psychosis could not shield him from. But he would not accept this gracefully. Rather be dragged kicking and screaming into oblivion, than throw up his hands and admit defeat.
And so, he callously set alight any mercy Nines might’ve shown, as smoke began to rise at their feet.
“This changes nothing.” The tirade was fractured, broken up by repeated strikes to the face. “You'll never know life. Just an empty mockery.”
Nines was lost in a trance. His knuckles glistened like rubies, catching the light of expanding flames, until he opted to unclench them.
“Damnation will come.”
The warehouse was becoming hot—oppressive—as Gavin felt the burn nipping at his skin. Curiously, the walls themselves appeared to be yielding to it. Melting away like molten glass in large, viscous globs, until a blink cleared the illusion.
When focusing back on Nines, he noted the hands which had formed a tight seal around Alex’s neck. Robbing his ability to speak, with the only sounds audible now splutters and wheezes, as his lips turned blue.
Connor attempted to stop what was happening, to spare his brother the ultimate consequence of his frenzy. But Nines did not listen; too far gone.
He stared into Alex's horror-struck eyes, projecting every ounce of the hatred his victims had been forced to endure in their final moments. Pressing down until the gluttonous pit, which had swallowed so many lives, was sealed.
Permanently.
With the job complete, Nines jerked back, leaving Alex slumped on the table. His jaw was slack, blood-filled eyes staring at nothing, partially protruding from the mottled canvas of his face.
What began as a flicker of heat had amassed into a raging inferno. It chased gossamer drapes affixed to the shelves, engulfing them in flames. It wasn't long until the ‘masterpiece’ was crumbling to ash, poised to take its creator with it.
Nines did not shift, just watched on. Staring into damnation, as fire began to lick at his heels.
Gavin attempted to move forward, to pull the RK to safety, but his position held firm. As though he were still anchored to the empty husk lying beneath him.
One that Hank was speaking to frenziedly. Tapping its shoulder, trying to goad some form of response. A single, conclusive trace of life—enough to spare him the hopeless futility of attempting compressions on a shattered chest.
A rattling sound rewarded the efforts. Weak. Shallow. Enough to make the man stall. He gripped the body’s shoulder, leaning in—uncertain if it had been a breath, or dead air escaping the still-intact lung.
Gavin could feel a shift. A sudden ripple of sensation, permeating numbness. The binds on his ankles tightened before pulling down, fast and dizzying, through blinding white.
***
When his eyes opened, echoes of the void persisted. Flakes of sleet which danced sporadically through his vision. Once cleared, he began to hone in on the details of his surroundings.
The fire was gone.
Indeed, the altar appeared untouched, columns of wax still mounted securely to the table. Alex was nowhere to be seen. It was only through further inspection that he saw him lying on the concrete. Splayed out, face first, but unquestionably alive—evident in occasional groans and spasms.
Connor was craned over him, applying cuffs to his wrists. Hank was there, too, pacing fractiously across the room, radio pinned to his ear. He lamented the lack of reception as his partner responded. Presumably, to inform the human that he’d already signalled for help.
Gavin paid them no further attention, far more concerned with the tight, shaky breaths breaking across his face.
“No, please.”
The source became clear as he glanced up, meeting sights with the person holding him. Nines had lifted him from the ground, half-draped across his lap. It was an unsteady foundation, shaken by tenuously suppressed sobs.
He was running a hand across his face. Nervous and featherlight, like the man was made of porcelain. “Sooner, I could have gotten here sooner, I…”
But the surface was already chipped, fractured beyond repair. Nines knew this. Evident in the deepening pools of moisture collecting in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
“Just breathe; keep breathing for me. You're going to—” The sentence was aborted, and he tried again, attempting to construct some semblance of comfort.
The words soon splintered into nonsense, frantic and incomprehensible. Then, he stopped lying, tears no longer able to be suppressed. They flowed freely down his cheeks, as he collapsed under the weight of his anguish.
Nines sobbed , unchecked and unrestrained, as though already mourning.
The sound would have ripped Gavin apart, were there anything left to tear. There was still a sting, though, a bitterness which sat on his tongue. Knowing that this might be the last he saw of him, the real Nines, beyond the fantasies conjured by his dying brain.
Perhaps death would be kinder, grant the luxury that life had refused: Time.
Just a little more time.
“I'm sorry, Gavin.” A forehead was pressed to his own, as a second hand cupped his face. It was an action so tender, so filled with genuine sorrow and devotion, that it said everything he needed to hear.
Despite this, Nines spoke anyway. A shattered proclamation, delivered through a long, shuddering breath:
“I love you—
Please don't go .”
Gavin wished, more than anything, that he could reach forward. Cradle trembling hands with his own, and tell Nines how much he had wanted to try. That he would’ve waited forever, if it meant a chance at them.
He just wished that “forever” had been longer.
Then he felt another yank, pulling him away. The last threads of his sentience were unravelling, with no promise he'd return a second time.
Nines began to dissolve, lost to a reel of scorched film—and then he was gone.
heeeelllllooo everyone, i am delighted to say that i now have a complete draft for the final chapter of A Long Way Down!! hopefully itll be beta read and ready to post in the next few days, thank you all for being so patient <33
Writing update: The first chapter of a brand-new side project, A Long Way Down, will be dropping soon (likely within the next few days) so keep an eye out!!! 👁️
More Than Our Parts has officially hit 1000 kudos on AO3!! THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has read and supported this fic. It genuinely means so very much to me ❤️❤️❤️
a bit late on the celebrations but EYYYYYY ao3 is back!! (i have had a crazy couple of days and scarcely noticed that my husband had gone to war)
ill be clearing through that inbox soon, i promise. big slobbery kisses as always to all you beautiful commenters 💋💋
also, i can officially confirm i have a new reed900 multichapter in the works!! ive learned from past mistakes and will try to have a few chapters drafted before i start uploading. for this reason, chapter one may not drop for a while, but i hope you enjoy it when it does :33
i will admit it's a bit...different...to what you're used to seeing from me. it might not to be to everyone's taste. but here, have a minimal context poll to give you a clue:
hey everyone, progress is going well with the next unbound chapter!! predicting to have it posted no later than next week :]
i have to make a confession though. recently i played dispatch and its got me a little obsessed...
question is, would any of you be interested in seeing the smutty flambert oneshot i plan to drop?? (see also: reed900 except one of them has fire powers) or would that be one for the alt account
YESSSS <33 I have played Dispatch and would greedily consume
Never played Dispatch, but here for the smut in any universe
EHHHH, I'm really just here for the sexy robots. One for the alt mayhap!!
