#except hank and connor

[connorgavinarmy]

"Connor is a polite, people-pleasing, poor little puppy"? Hmm...

I've been assigned this mission, Lieutenant. I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working.

Listen, asshole. If it was up to me, I'd throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty.

...This is the most "polite" option for this scene (the others being asking Hank to resign from the case, or straight-up threatening him). 😂 I'm rather curious what would have happened if Chris hadn't come in time to inform Hank about the AX400 sighting. My take is... Yes, he's polite. Yes, he tries to be pleasant. But he ain't a poor little puppy. Despite the puppy eyes which he uses as a weapon. I would think that "kindness" is at Connor's core, seen in how he has the option to save Dewey and pet Sumo (kindness towards animals who can't give back to his mission). And he's canonically able to say appreciative things to Hank "outside of his programming". So his kind and polite demeanour is not just his Social Relations Programme running. At the same time, he can weaponise his kindness too, like during the interrogation, or when he reminded Hank about the drink he bought to bargain for more time. Get in the way of his mission? Man's gonna push you 'til you move, no matter what. Including slapping your drunkass face and ruthlessly pouring cold water on you to sober you up.

📷 (c) ClancySPCS

[sunwarmed-ash]

Survived a mother fucker of a migrane yesterday, so im celebrating watching one of my fav dbh vids my partner @tentoriumcerebelli told me about 😍

If you haven't seen it yet, go watch it, youll LOVE IT!

And if HAVE seen it,

Theres another 20 that I wanted to add but theres only so many options lololol tell me your favs!

[sunatsubu]

"And who might you be?"

--------

Vox Machina screenshot redraw, except I made it hankcon vampire AU

[agent-47023]

Detroit secret endings basically say you played the game wrong

[friends-arent-electric-blog]

You liked that Connor wearing Hank's skin, huh? How about the opposite?

[nothinggathers]

I am trying to think of a pairing in this fandom where one is not at least responsible for the death of the other in any given route and I am coming up empty...

... No, wait! I got one!

Reed900! They never actually meet, and one of them has 0 dialogue or presence outside of the garden in Connor's head. So if we ignore Gavin's repeated threats and potentially successful attempt to kill Connor, and the alternative where Gavin is rendered unconscious for long enough that it indicates possible permanent brain damage, and how the RK900 is just Connor with blue eyes and a few upgrades... there we have it. The only permissible DBH ship.

how can you ship rk1k when connor brutally murders markus at one point, which also looks super fucked up considering that connor is white presenting & markus is black presenting 😔 /gen

Come on bro, almost all the characters brutally murder each other if you choose so.

Enemies to lovers is extremely popular trope, it's not that deep

[lonely-cowboy]

HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER

YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD

MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME

requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)

with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace

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framed

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”

“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”

Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth. 

You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him. 

But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.

“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.” 

Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.

Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.

Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.

Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.  

You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?

Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.

You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”

An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.

“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.

Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure. 

When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words. 

“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.

From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.

“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”

The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.

“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”

Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.

“Okay…?” you prompted.

“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”

Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.

“I… make you happy?” you clarified.

“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”

With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.

“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”

You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.

“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”

Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”

“It certainly did.”

[connorology]

thinking extra hard about the hank and connor hug scene today. after everything the first person connor seeks out is hank…hank’s nervous demeanor just before connor walks into frame…the way neither of them really know what to do upon seeing each other again except to smile quietly at each other…hank’s instincts telling him to pull connor close…and connor’s allowing him to be held with a loving touch for the first time in his entire life…AND the fact that not a single word is spoken between them during all of this yet you can feel the tenderness is just the cherry on top…..OUUU i feel crazy

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

just like heaven | connor, rk800

ART CREDIT: @possumy (Original post) a/n: hi everybody happy april im happy to still be here my detroit become human hyperfixation is alive and well. also so much love to @possumy if you see this and want me to change the header, i will!!! please just send me a dm/ask!! your art was just perfect for how i was imagining connor to look in this fic and its just. i am obsessed with it your art is so lovely. and one more shoutout to this post by @salt-and-a-dash-of-pepper made that sort of inspired this fic. warnings: cursing, kissing, connor being autistic and also learning emotional regulation, connors first relationship, fuck gavin reed, Gavin is awful to Connor and is weird to reader, canon typical violence, connor snaps at reader, connor is so awkward, mostly canon accurate, established relationship, bridge to terabithia, hank is hank, lots of complicated emotions lots of connor learns how to be a person, uhhh i guess thats it wordcount: 3.1k summary: connor feels a lot of strong emotions and has no 'emotional regulation' feature. pairing: deviant!connor, rk800 x gn!reader now playing: just like heaven - the cure "show me how you do it/and i promise you/ i promise that I'll run away with you/i'll run away with you"

The one thing no one ever tells you about being a deviant is that you need to learn emotional regulation, you know, that thing that small children learn in elementary school?

…Well maybe someone did tell Connor, given how long he spent hunting deviants before becoming one.

But with the revolution and the high stakes scenario surrounding Detroit, he sort of.. skipped that step.

Now, as the dust settles, he’s… adjusting to his new life. And there are so many things that are new-- 

Including emotions. He never imagined feeling the sort of things he does now..

So, here’s an incomplete list of the emotions that Connor deals with after becoming deviant.

--

Anger

He can’t help himself. He can’t control it.

Gavin Reed is just so fucking annoying.

And he can’t figure out why—

Androids are on their way to becoming human’s equals. Sure, they’re not there yet because humans are in fact self-righteous creatures who are very stubborn, but slowly, more and more are becoming increasingly tolerant.

Except for Gavin. He still hates androids. Especially Connor.

And all he wanted was to make you a coffee before you got out of your meeting with a witness, a human with a sharp disdain for androids. Hank had gone with you to ask the right questions.

So, he went into the breakroom to make you a warm drink..

That’s what boyfriends do, right?

“What’re you doing, bolts?”

Even at the sound of his voice, a pang of agitation ran through him.

“I’m making coffee for—”

The cup is smacked out of his hand and into the nearby sink before he can fully turn around.

Anger immediately starts to build in the pit of his stomach.

“Androids don’t drink coffee,” He reminded, “Androids don’t eat or drink anything. Stop fucking pretending you’re like everyone else.” He spits, and Connor takes a moment.

He inhales, remembering your advice.

Just ignore him, Connor. He’s a dick who just wants to make you feel as worthless as he does.

“It’s not for me.” He starts, turning now to go make you another cup of coffee, but before he can turn, Gavin grabs his shoulder to turn him again.

“Who’s it for then, Bolts?” He asks, and he steps closer to Connor, his face closer to his. Connor’s cheeks twitch, resisting the urge to scrunch his nose at the smell of cigarettes that wafts off him. “Hank?” When Connor doesn’t answer, Gavin’s face lights up in realization.

“Oh, it’s for your little crush. What a pair you two make.” Gavin scoffs. “For a bot, you have good taste. I might just have to show them what a real man could—”

Connor can’t help himself. He shoves Gavin back a bit. It makes Gavin laugh.

“I’ve been waiting to beat the shit out of you since you attacked me in the archive.” He says, swinging a punch Connor’s way before he can even react.

-

You thought your session with the witness was going well. Then, from outside the interrogation room, you heard shouting. You glanced over to Hank, your movements coming to a stop.

“Uh,” He clears his throat and stands up, nodding you over to the door, “We’ll be right back, Ma’am.” He says to the witness.

Your stomach fills with dread, hoping Connor was able to stay out of trouble (Yeah, right.).

You see the crowd gathering around the breakroom, and before you can even ask yourself who this fight could be between.. Gavin Reed is thrown across the precinct, and you realize who the other person in this fight is.

Hank realizes it too as Gavin gets up and quickly runs at Connor, as they start to hit each other, fighting like two hormonal, angry teenagers. It’s certainly what Connor feels like in this moment. Well, it would be, if Connor was thinking about anything except seeing Reed’s blood splattered across the precinct floor.

Hank looks to you and before you can register his strides towards the fight, he says,

“I’ll get Reed, you get Connor out of here.”

You’re the one who wanted to date him, remember?

You shove through the crowd, pushing big burly cops who should definitely break this fight up cheer—They’re either cheering for the long overdue ass-kicking of Gavin Reed or the annoying android that won’t seem to quit.

You move to Connor as Hank pulls Gavin back, face bloody but no longer throwing punches—Still hurling insults.

“Connor!” You raise your voice as best you can, and you even hear a few giggles from behind you. To your coworkers, it sounds like a cat trying to bark. Connor takes a step towards Reed but the sound of your voice pulls him out of this trance.

His head snaps towards you, and you can see the way he’s panting; Not from exhaustion. Androids don’t run out of breath.

Connor’s chest is falling dramatically, up and down, because of the hot anger that flows through him. Blue blood runs down his face, staining his shirt. His knuckles are wiped in Reed’s blood, and he turns towards you with such anger.

And then he blinks, his LED blinking yellow. But he’s still angry. All you can think to do is grab his wrist and pull him away to one of the bathrooms.

Connor leans against the sink, just breathing heavily. He doesn’t say anything as you slip off his jacket, and then his tie. You untie it and run it under warm water in the sink. He’s still seething as you use the tie to wipe away the blue blood from under his nose, dripped down his lips, down his chin and neck.

“What happened?” You ask after a moment.

Connor’s LED flashes red and his grip on the sink tightens.

“What do you think happened?”

A frown tugs on your lips.

“I think you let Reed get to you.”

Connor’s LED blinks red again.

“Get to me? He was fishing for a fight, and I just—” He feels his anger bubbling again. “I couldn’t take it anymore—”

You believe him.

“It’ll get easier,” You start, and Connor just shakes his head.

“Stop it,” He turns from you, pacing around the bathroom.

“It will, he’ll get tired of it, and—”

“You don’t know that!” He snaps, raising his voice at you.

You freeze. So does Connor.

Your name tumbles from his lips, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’m sorry,” Connor says softly, “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I just.. I got so angry, and I know that’s not an excuse, I just..” Connor’s shoulders finally slump, exhaustion taking over his anger. “I can’t stand the way he talks about you.”

The two of you look at each other, both of you looking for the other to break this silence with sage words of wisdom.

But, neither of you find the words.

Instead, you just step forward and wrap your arms around him, and he doesn’t hesitate to hug back. Connor inhales and exhales deeply. He’s found these hugs to be the best solution to these intense outbursts.

-

Sadness

Fridays become movie night.

You, Connor and Hank order a pizza and longue on the couch, Sumo at your feet. When movie night first started, Connor challenged Hank to be sober for it. So, he no longer drinks on Fridays. But, in exchange for his sobriety, Hank challenges Connor to experiment with showing affection for you.

It starts with making you tea or snacks, but slowly, you find yourself with his arm around your shoulder, or his hand intwined with yours.

That doesn’t really affect this story, but you think about it every Friday night.

Tonight, you’ve chosen to watch this old movie your mom always put on for you as a kid—Bridge To Terabithia.

Connor enjoys it more than he thought he would, but then he gets towards the end. His face falls when he sees the solemn tone the main character comes home to after a day at the museum.. He feels this.. horrible sadness, and he’s not sure when he starts to cry..

All he knows is that he watches the last few moments of the movie with tears running down his face. He glances to the side and notices your eyes on him. A wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feels like he’s done something wrong by crying at a stupid kid’s movie.

That feeling goes away when he feels your head leaning on his shoulder.

-

Jealousy

Another emotion Connor just cannot help but feel.

He’s not stupid—You’re gorgeous, of course people are going to flirt with you! The worst part, in his opinion is the fact that you don’t even seem to notice it.

You’ll go out to dinner, and the waitress will give you a free dessert.

You’ll get phone numbers from witnesses.

And worst of all?

Gavin loves to flirt with you.

Connor is just sitting at his desk, painstakingly waiting for you to step out of the interrogation room where you’re helping interview a perp for a case Reed’s working on. He knows you have no interest in Reed. In fact, you really fucking hate Reed, the way he tortures poor Connor. But even more than that, you have no interest in Reed because you are utterly devoted to Connor, even if he doesn’t see that.

His head picks up when he sees you and Gavin leaving the room, talking by the doorway. What were you two talking about?

And Connor is very bad at social cues, so he squints, trying to analyze your body language to gauge what you’re feeling in this moment.

Hank is talking about—Well, Connor doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he stopped paying attention to the subject matter a couple of minutes ago. He’s trying to assess how quickly he can cross the room and rip Gavin’s hand off as it lands on your upper arm.

“And then, I said—” Connor is up and moving as Hank talks, “Connor, what the fuck—Oh, god,” That last part happens when Hank realizes what has grabbed Connor’s attention.

“Detective Reed,” He starts, and to you, it feels like he just shows up out of thin air, “I believe I heard Captain Fowler was looking for you.”

Reed scoffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, bolts?” He rolls his eyes, “Guess I should see what the old man wants.” His eyes flicker to you, glancing you up and down, “See you later, hun.”

Connor recognizes the pet name. Pet names. A very human quirk that Connor cannot seem to get the hang of. But, he can certainly try, no?

An arm is wrapped around your shoulder, but because Connor is not a physically affectionate person, your face twists in confusion.

“Goodbye, Detective.” His head tilts towards you, “Would you like to get lunch.. darling?”

You smile at his awkwardness.

“Sure. Lunch sounds nice.” And you let him walk you out of the police station, not even sure where the two of you were going to lunch. But as soon as you’re out on the street, you have to mention it, “I didn’t know you get jealous,” you tease.

Connor blinks, his LED light flashing yellow.

“It wasn’t—” He shakes his head, “I’d hardly call it jealousy.”

“Oh yeah?” You wonder, “Then why’d you come interrupt me and Reed?”

“Well, you were clearly uncomfortable,” He starts, and then he takes a deep breath, “Besides.. I’m your boyfriend. Not.. Gavin.” Connor says his name with disgust.

You just giggle.

“I think you’re cute when you’re jealous.” There’s no bite to your bark—You really do love your oblivious, amazing boyfriend. Why would you complain that you have someone as handsome and as kind as Connor being so unknowingly jealous?

You decide to ignore the way his ears flush blue. Or at least, you decide not to tease him about it.

-

Yearning

This one’s my favorite. It’s Connor’s favorite. It’s bound to be your favorite.

Office parties at the DPD always get a little too out of hand.. the vicious mix of ego and alcohol is always a dangerous equation.

But, Ben Collins is a friend of yours, so you and Connor showed up to his retirement party. They decided to host it at the police station, pushing the desks to the back so they could have a makeshift dance floor.

Everyone is dressed nice—Mostly in suits, but now, with the night winding on, everyone’s taken off their jackets, loosened their ties..

Connor’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the first two buttons of his shirt are undone. He looks.. so fucking good.

You’re socializing, having had a drink or two, your hair messier than it had been when you came in. You’re just talking, but when the person you’re talking to leaves, Connor approaches, a smile on his face.

Your handsome— No, gorgeous—No, Pretty boyfriend with those beautiful eyes of his. You know Connor doesn’t really believe in more than numbers and science—psychology over astrology type of guy, or at least, as far as he’s expressed.

But you thank your lucky stars that you have him in your life, but if you told Connor that you’d guess he’d just scrunch his nose and ask what astronomy had to do with the two of you meeting.

(“I’m just thankful for it. I mean what are the odds?”

“Considering I was designed to be a detective where you work, to be your partner? Rather high, I’d say, but if you’d like the exact number, I could run a calculation.”)

You grin.

“Hi, pretty boy,” You coo, just a little tipsy. You watch as he blushes, a deep blue creeping onto his skin.

“Hello,” He says softly, unable to tear his eyes from you. “Are you doing okay?” He rubs your arm gently, his thumb brushing back and forth a bit. You just smile wider, blushing just as much as him.

Maybe it’s the fact that everyone here is too drunk to notice, or maybe it’s just that he feels this deep, crushing affection for you. Like he needs to be as close to you as possible. He’s not sure why, but he can’t find it in himself to deny it or push it away.

He his hands find yours, and just for a moment, Connor thinks about retracting the skin on his hands, a sign of intimacy from Deviants, but he gets too scared.

Instead, he begins to assess the risk of various spots.

Everyone’s in and out of the restrooms, you can’t go there. It seems wrong to drag you to the evidence room or even the interrogation room.

Connor glances back to the desks behind you. How no one’s paying attention to them. How even if they were, they’d be too drunk to care.

So, he leads you by the hand over to a particular desk he’s looking for, before patting the desk.

“Here, sit.”

You raise an eyebrow. Your eyes flicker down to the name on the desk, and you smile.

“Connor—”

He just looks at you, waiting. But you can see the corner of his lips twitch up as you sit right on Reed’s desk.

“Isn’t it normal to engage in a bit of friendly practical joking?” he asked, and he steps towards you, his hands landing on either side of you on the desk, caging you in. You just smile and your hands rest on his shoulder.

“You’re going to, what, prank Reed by making out with me on his desk?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice.

Connor’s LED flickers pink, and then stays that color as he leans in, his nose barely touching yours. He’s just close enough to feel your warm breath against his lips.

“There’s nothing wrong with some harmless fun..” He mumbles, “We’re all friends here, right, Detective?”

Your heart thumps.

And maybe it’s the alcohol, but all you can to think to say is,

“You and I were never just friends, Connor.”

Something about your words recall memories of his—

Meeting you for the first time.

Saving you instead of catching a deviant.

He thinks about sitting with you on the steps of your porch, sipping hot tea, and listening to the sound of rain hitting the roof above him, your body leaning against his.

He wasn’t even a deviant at that point.

So yeah. The two of you were never ‘just’ friends.

But instead of justifying your claim, Connor’s resolve diminishes, and he presses his lips against yours, and for a rare moment—it’s all worth it.

All the hate he experiences from humans, all the hot, dangerous anger he can’t keep down, the horrible shame, the deep, overwhelming sadness—

It’s all worth it for this moment, when he feels truly alive.

He deepens the kiss and doesn’t stop you when he feels his hand on his jaw, then barely brushing past the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t know what he wants, but he knows he has to get as close to you as possible.

His hands wander, his fingertips just barely dipping beneath your top—

And just the tips of his fingers retract his skin, white fingertips brushing against your skin. He can’t help it. He pulls away from the kiss and begins to kiss your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your neck—

Each kiss is precise, calculated by him to elicit the reactions he knows you’re capable of, trying to satisfy the hunger he finds himself unable to conquer.

Connor had always considered himself an expert on Deviant Behavior—But you, the way you tug on his collar to bring him closer with one hand while playing with his hair with the other, and the vague, fuzzy-at-the-moment memory of you holding your umbrella over Connor’s head, one of the first true kindnesses he remembers—it makes him realize that he knows nothing about deviant behavior or the concept of desire.

But when the sound of small gasps leave your lips, quiet, only for him to hear over the loud music and people laughing, crying, yelling, singing, and the feeling of your warm skin beneath his ivory fingertips, Connor realizes he’s more than willing to educate himself.  

Properly.

Thoroughly.

He decides to make it his mission.

And Connor always accomplishes his mission.

[starryeyedstray]

(cough) I just realized smt, whenever Connor is connecting to an android or receives a case via digitally, he blinks and twitches rapidly—

^ (like in this scene-)

^ (and this scene with Hank.)

I don’t really have a built up expectation in my head but I was hoping maybe you could come up with one :> (edit: thought I could upload this anonymously 😭)

hello hello, tyvm for the ask bc i indeed have some thoughts about this very thing~!!!

so before we dive into headcanons, let's get clear about what the game's canon proposes. this rapid blinking by connor occurs first when he shares his authorization with the st300 and again when he receives a report at chicken feed. so we can extrapolate when he's sending and receiving data remotely, he exhibits this behavior.

do other androids exhibit this behavior when doing something similar?

not really. clearly the st300 receives the authorization, she barely bats an eye. when markus remotely pays for the paints at the store or calls the police, he doesn't blink like this either. when kara orders parts for the dishwasher the only thing blinking is her LED. so clearly, this is a connor-specific reaction to remote data transmission.

do other androids exhibit this behavior at all?

yes actually! the jb300s connor is interrogating at stratford tower rapidly blink when conducting a diagnostic scan. now, what can we presume from that information? well, a full diagnostic scan is quite an intensive process. for computers, it can take awhile because you're having to parse through all the data on a computer. for something as complex as an android to do it in a few seconds, it would take a massive amount of processing power.

i think the rapid blinking may be a byproduct of androids having their processors overclocking (basically going on overdrive). either it's a sort of glitch/bug that manifests itself when an android is processing a lot of information rapidly or it's a feature cyberlife included as a visual cue for humans to know that the android is in the middle of processing something and unable to respond until whatever it is processing is completed (kinda like a loading screen except the visual cue is the blinking).

according to this assumption, connor would exhibit this behavior when his processors are overclocked. but the thing about connor is that he's supposed to be cyberlife's most advanced prototype, right??? so why is he blinking like crazy over simply receiving and transmitting data that doesn't phase a st300?

it's because he's a prototype.

and as much as cyberlife touts him as being super advanced, i headcanon that cyberlife cut a lot of corners too. how else would they just have 10 bodies of this supposedly expensive android ready to go in case he got destroyed?

i think the r&d put into the rk800s was expensive and his software is super advanced, but his hardware... not so much. sure he's got the fancy mouth sensors for crime scene analysis, but just look at connor. he's clumsy (did you see him tumble through that window?? how badly you can fuck up his qtes???) he's constantly fidgeting with a coin for calibration purposes. basically they have this super advanced cpu but it's being bottlenecked by the rest of his hardware.

so what's that got to do with his blinking?

i just think connor's physical body can't keep up with his processing power so you get weird glitches and artefacts that don't show up in other androids. sometimes that shows up in needing constant calibration of his fine motor skills so he doesn't fuck up during combat. and sometimes it shows up in unnecessary blinking for a rudimentary data transfer. he's not quite at home in his body. it's new and his motor drivers don't move as fast as his processors think. he's out of sync with himself so he's not quite the perfect murderbot he's supposed to be (this is also the reason why i think markus who's lived in his body for so long can kick his ass despite being an older model)

at least that's just my headcanon! i could probably yap all day about stuff like this but i've yapped enough. thanks for the ask! love answering questions like this. apologies it took so long i wrote like 80% of this answer and then i disappeared from tumblr for a bit and forgot this was sitting in my drafts. sorry!

[thiriumhound]

uh. ummmmm

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

ok tbh i interpret post-canon as a world irrevocably changed so i can’t see him in evacuated detroit really having a job at all. he and the other humans are just tryna survive (has everyone forgotten the water cuts, school closures, blackouts etc? the entire country is falling apart now that androids aren’t running shit, do people seriously think shit’s just going back to normal after a month??)

ik im the odd one out there though, so... in a world where shit goes back to normal? god idk. in the economy cyberlife’s created it’s not like he can just casually get a job in whatever the individual writer decides he’s into outside of police work, but again that’s addressing the collapse of the country that everyone’s ignoring. so gardening, maybe? he does have a lot of little potted plants, and it might be good for his mental health to take care of them. maybe connor recommends it to him. the issue is again no one would be buying the stupid plants when they’re all too focused on tryna figure out how to live when no one has the expertise to fill the ESSENTIAL jobs androids had, and companies’ budgets are now based around the idea that they don’t have to pay workers anymore so they can’t feasibly rehire any humans left that DO know what to do- but WE’RE IGNORING THAT.

i guess im kinda converting myself to the other side of fowler letting him keep his job out of a ridiculous amount of grace again....... that “can’t you back me up this one time” line always gets me cause there aint no way hank kept his job for the past couple years with his alcoholism and rampant skipping and lack of motivation to do literally anything to contribute to investigations for any reason other than fowler backing him up for the past YEARS lmao

anyway assuming i’m catastrophizing and actually the country pieces itself back together just fine, i’d go with gardening. i guess. really it just depends on how the individual writer interprets him and his likely hobbies. either that or any basic or odd jobs he can get ahold of- do you know how many jobs todd bounced between before being forced to settle on drugs? >_> becoming lieutenant from such a young age probably means that’s all he had going on, so it’s not like hank’s likely to have some secret degree up his sleeve...

Folks who oppose the headcanon of Hank being back at DPD post revolution, can you please share your alternatives?

[connorgavinarmy]

HUMANS canonically able to defeat the ✨state-of-the-art detective android prototype✨ in a 1on1 FIGHT if the player misses the QTEs, but shhhhh.

Detective Gavin Reed, DPD Homicide

Lieutenant Hank Anderson, DPD Homicide / Android Investigations

Captain Allen, DPD SWAT Unit 32

This US ARMY guy

Not the Connor canon I embrace (I prefer the 'ruthless fighter who can drop any human despite being polite and kind on the daily except when challenged by Gavin Reed'), but dang the possibility of Connor being defeated 1on1 by these guys says a lot about their combat skills.

📷 (c) ClancySCPS, b8y with no life, CINEMATIC GAMING

[rk80jacks]

silly silly ramble below!!! :)

ive been really thinking about connor today and especially how he’s very dog coded.

not in like the: “awww he’s sooo cute” golden retriever way but in the like.. specially trained, incredibly intelligent police dog way.

(im sure this has been talked about like a million times already but whatever)

the way police dogs seem very serious and strange compared to other dogs. the way they were trained with serving people through violence or sniffing out clues but despite that have no other purpose.

the way connor doesn’t know anything except cyberlife and doing his job. doing what he’s been programmed and told to do. he has no other purpose. the way during the chase scene with kara hank has to tell him off and come to his senses in a way that felt like someone telling a dog to heel. even him full speed chasing kara and alice felt like a police dog running them down.

or how dogs key trait is their unwavering loyalty to its owner, not realizing that their beloved owner could be abusing them. how connor put his trust in amanda and cyberlife.

in the way that a dogs owner is their entire life. and they put full trust in them. connors whole life was cyberlife and fulfilling his job, not realizing who could be impacted in the process.

[dbh-rambling]

I’ve already written about the Kamski Test in another post, but this is one of those subjects where different parts of it jump out more as you go, so here’s more. 

Today’s rambling: Kamski and Hank have no idea what they’re doing but they act like they do, and they don’t stop to consider that they don’t.

Does anyone remember the part at the Eden Club where Connor has no easy way to test for deviancy on the spot? How there’s no flag that anyone can bring up on a debugger and go ‘Aha, a deviant!’, there’s no concrete answer. Despite this, Hank and Kamski both act like this Kamski Test is miraculously capable of doing that, even though the test basically says ‘Quick, Connor, let’s blackmail you into shooting this girl and then form opinions about your worth as a person over it!’

Anyway, they buy into it. If Connor doesn’t shoot, then Kamski is thrilled, and he waves the words empathy and deviancy around with relish. Hank hurries Connor out protectively in front of him, and when they talk outside his tone is notably speculative and pleased.

If Connor shoots, Kamski’s tone switches hard from enthralled to disappointed, and he declares Connor to have shown no empathy. Hank, meanwhile, is furious. Chloe showed no emotions except pretty smiling and Connor visibly struggles during the test, but Hank’s focus is entirely on reeling over Chloe’s death and accusing Connor of being a machine.

Hank actually holds on to this test even on into the next Chapter, where he can bring it up after they talk with Fowler. Hank will follow the steps of the Kamski test, looking at Connor’s actions, and evaluating them for their empathy.

(If Connor didn’t shoot Chloe) Hank: When you refused to kill that android at Kamski's place... You put yourself in her shoes. You showed empathy, Connor. 

(If Connor saved Hank from falling) Hank: When I was hanging off the roof, back at the urban farm, you let that deviant go in order to help me. You put my life above the mission. You showed empathy, Connor. 

(If Connor protected Hank from shooting) Hank: Back at Stratford Tower, when that android was shooting at anything that moved... You protected me... You... Risked your life to save mine. That showed empathy, Connor.

No one stops to question whether or not Connor wants to participate. Kamski came up with a test, they accept between themselves that it’s valid, and that’s the end of it. While Hank does tell Connor not to complete the test when it gets to the part that involves shooting the Nice Girl, Connor had already been showing stress and trying to divert things before this point, and Hank doesn’t actually intervene on either android’s behalf.

TL;DR: the humans in the room decide to give their android a half-assed five minute test for sentience, and then both completely buy into their own speculation.

[reedeemable]

Ok weird reed900 idea but imagine Nines replaces Connor, not in a bad way but Connor is out of commission for whatever reasons and Nines has to take his place, again for reasons. No one knows, except for Hank and Fowler.

Nines completely assumes Connor's identity, this includes his facial features (same eyes), same clothing etc.

The only thing that he can't copy completely is Connor's personality. From time to time, Nines' own personality shines through but everyone around him just assumes that this is due to his newfound deviancy.

Nines had been instructed to steer clear of Gavin, not just because Gavin heavily dislikes Connor but also Gavin is a good detective and he might notice Connor acting weird. Well, he does.

Gavin doesn't know why but Connor has become easier to tolerate. Not in a friendly way but he no longer fake smiles at Gavin, is not as much of a pushover as before and actually engages Gavin, giving back insults just as good as he gets them.

Gavin realises in horror that he is actually starting to feel attracted to Connor but that can't be right because he wanted nothing to do with him and he wanted to ice that fucker as soon as he met him but now, Gavin can't help but help but stare at him and fantasize about kissing that smart mouth off of his face.

Gavin isn't the only one catching feels. Nines genuinely befriends Gavin and goes out of his way to spend time with him, despite Hank and Fowler's protests.

Nines is the one to make the first move. He knows that it is extremely stupid but one day they're on a case together (Nines volunteered to be Gavin's partner when he needed one, again against Fowler's orders) and he just can't hold it anymore. Nines kisses him.

Gavin lets it happen, despite his confusing feelings but when he opens his eyes, all he can mutter is "what the fuck?" because staring back at him isn't Connor's usually annoying puppy dog eyes but cold, icy grey eyes.

Turns out Nines' passion and emotion stemming from his first kiss causes his disguise to glitch out.

[bleakbronze]

There are several key steps to immediate treatment of a gunshot wound.

First and perhaps most importantly, contact the relevant authorities. Then, your priority until emergency medical care arrives becomes stopping the bleed. If the wound is on an extremity, you must tie a tourniquet as close as you can to the juncture of limb and trunk — it should be tight enough to hurt. Check to see if there is an exit wound. If not — using a piece of gauze (or whatever fabric is available) pack the wound tightly. Again — it should hurt. The more gauze you can pack into the gunshot wound, the better chance you have of helping the bleeding to clot. Finally, apply pressure. Do not ease off. Do not give in. Hold.

Connor knows all of this. Does it all automatically, without question and despite protestations from Hank.

That's not the hard part.

The hard part lies in the precious minutes of waiting. The time between Connor first pressing his suit jacket hard against the front of Hank's shoulder and the arrival of paramedics.

Connor listens to the emergency services operators as he applies steady, consistent pressure. The ambulance will be there in five minutes, but when you can process at the speed that Connor can, every second gives you enough time to imagine just how many things can go wrong in each of those minutes.

"I'm fine, Con," Hank says, trying again to push himself past a kneeling Connor and climb his way up to his feet.

"No, Hank, you're not." Though he's not usually one to flaunt it, Connor is a lot stronger than Hank. And with Hank's injury, it takes little effort to press harder against Hank's wound, pinning him back down. "You're in shock." It's clear to see it in Hank's face, too. His breath is coming in quick, short pants, and he's blinking like he can't pull anything he sees into focus.

Connor grabs Hank's wrist again. The shift in position pulls a groan and a swear through Hank's clenched teeth.

"Your blood pressure is beginning to drop." The data floods through Connor's HUD, numbers flashing red and insistent, everything telling Connor that Hank is dying. Underneath the speckles of his own blood, Hank's face is pale and pinched, each muscle in his body tensing as his systems try their best to preserve themselves.

Connor doesn't care that the guy got away. Doesn't care about the sirens and the tires that scream past them only a few feet from where they lie together on the sidewalk. All that he cares about is the hole in Hank's shoulder and the heart beating in his chest.

"Connor," Hank says, and his voice is deflated, all the air and life in it whispering out.

"Yes, Hank?"

Connor stares at each slender line that traces across Hank's face, each one a mark of what's happened to him. What new lines are digging into his face right at this moment through each cut of pain?

Each of Hank's breaths as he prepares to speak is a crackling rasp.

"It hurts," Hank finally says, and Connor's not sure he's ever heard Hank's voice this soft.

"I know it does," he lies.

Connor doesn't know, not really. How could he? The machine of his body can compute, process, do it all — except know what this means for Hank. And it frustrates Connor so much that he nearly eases up on the pressure at Hank's shoulder to bury his face in his hands and scream. But all he can do — what he must do — is keep exactly as still as he was designed to be.

His notion of pain and Hank's are entirely different. The discomfort that Connor feels when he loses function of a biocomponent is nothing compared to a mangled nerve endings, metal encasing itself in delicate flesh, feeling one's own bones as shrapnel tearing you from the inside. Connor's been broken before, but, no, he'll never know this. Even if he wishes he could. Wouldn't that be so easy? He'd give Hank every ounce of thirium in him, every last biocomponent that kept him running if it meant Hank lived. But right now, all he can do is press tighter and tighter against the wound until the tips of his fingers are wet with the blood that soaks through his jacket.

He wishes he could do anything.

"The ambulance will be here soon. What do you need, Hank?"

There are a few short, hiccuping breaths before Hank can reply.

"Just stay," Hank says. "Stay here."

Connor smiles — as much as he can right now. "I can do that."

How desperately Connor wishes he could hold Hank right now. He can't, though; the pressure against his wound needs to be steady and consistent.

So, instead, Connor leans in slowly. Hank's tired eyes track him through clenched brows, as Connor closes in on him, and finally, Connor brings his lips to Hank's temple, soft and careful.

The skin is so warm. It's terrifying to think of it getting any colder.

Hank hums at the contact, the closest he's sounded to pleased since before they even got here, and Connor stops kissing him if only to see his face again.

(He doesn't realize until he's pulling back that he's kissed Hank precisely where an LED would be.)

Deep brown meets ice blue and even with the pounding of feet, the screaming of sirens, the rush of cars, the reverberations of far-off gunshots — when their eyes meet, the world goes so, so quiet.

It's there, on the ground together, that an ambulance light finally flashes against them, and for a moment, just the briefest fraction of a second, the blood that soaks through Connor's jacket and coats his fingertips is erased as the whole world is tinted red in the ambulance light's glow.