#but I really want to properly analyze it before makin anything

[theprismofchaos]

Has anyone watched (binged and repeatedly rewatching) Sendokai and - as a consequence - have way too many ideas and headcanons that now they want to share (infodump) and ramble (obsessively analyze and theorize) about it?

[delsinsrowes]

For you, what would Connor/Reader fluff look like?

entire like fuckin’ half fic under the cut bc i started listing things and then made those things into a giant linear thing instead of a list

ok so like just imagine this being written better and following the storyline of 1. Connor sees that him and the reader work well together 2. Omg connor is like…. .. . wanting to get close to the reader and hear their laugh and understand what makes them want to get out of bed in the morning???? Hmmm 3 the reader getting hurt, connor feeling terror for their life, and for once, not having any rational plan on how to fix it. 4 connor bringing this up with hank and hank just being like, “ur one of the smartest things on this godforsaken planet and you don’t understand how infatuation works????” 5. Connor bein like, :O omg I like the reader wtf howsmt in the world do I do this I am not programmed for courting 6. (this is my fave part and would be something I would really love to write if I did an actual fic) connor goes to a sex club and hires a lady just to teach him how to flatter women bc it is NOT in his program and since his deviation he has no idea about ANYTHING 7. He does it, the reader and him are in like with one another 8. The sex

After the revolution started (or ended, you still can’t tell which) police stations across the nation started hiring more and more officers and investigators to help carry the load of human on android crimes that were now legal to file. You got hired at the Detroit precinct – you were a shiny new member of the Android Crime Investigation team. This new team, while encompassing all crimes involving androids, focused on murders or assault with android involvement (whether that be a human killing an android or vice-versa).

          Your background in criminal investigation and forensics made you think you were almost overqualified for this job. However, all those thoughts leave your mind as you walk in on your first day you come face to face with the small team you’d be working with. You first saw an older man with grey hair pacing back and forth within the small room you’d been told was still “a work in progress,” by a human officer showing you around. You stand outside the room for a few beats too long and hear footsteps approaching behind you.

“Hello.” When you turn around to see who the voice belongs to you’re met with curious brown eyes peering down at you. “I’m Connor, the lead investigator for the Android Crime Investigation team, I assume you’re (y/n).” A small smile graces his otherwise expressionless face.

You give a nervous exhale that sounds almost like a laugh in return. “Yeah, that’d be me. I --uh, I didn’t know I’d be working with someone as significant as you when I got offered this job.” You realize that your phrasing was very casual for the first meeting with a superior and quickly try to backpedal.

“What I mean is, I’m aware of you and your work. I’m sure everyone is at this point. Your role in the revolution was… amazing.” You give him a shy but sure smile, which he returns. You notice the way his eyes change when he smiles. It’s nice, there’s a sense of comfort that lingers within your chest before he speaks again.

“Thank you. That’s very kind. I appreciate the effort you’ve put into the investigations assigned to you at your previous workplace. Your proficiency is why you’re the first person Lieutenant Anderson and I hired to assist us in this project.” Connor begins ushering you into the small room as he finishes his sentence, giving you no time to properly react to his praise. When the two of you enter, the man you’ve now learned is Lieutenant Anderson glances your way.

You notice three small desks placed in the room with papers strewn on top of them. The television spanning the eastern wall projects files on who you assume are those being investigated, you watch as it flickers between names and information.

“Hank, this is (y/n). As of today, she will be working with us.” The man gives you a weak smile. He looks exhausted and overwhelmed, you guessed that the desk littered with empty paper coffee cups belonged to him.

“Welcome to the dream team. As I’m sure you can tell we’re counting on you to make this,” he gestures faintly to the room around you, “a little less of a shit show.” Hank leans down on his desk turning his attention to the mountains of paper he’s been painfully trying to will away.

“Babysitting two grown men is not something I have experience with, but I’m not known for turning down a challenge.” Without making eye contact with either one of them you walk over to one of the desks – the one with the least clutter and sit, idly glancing at some loose paper before looking over to Hank.

He’s smiling a genuine smile when you meet his eyes. “Good to know you have somethin’ resembling humor. With him its all work and no play. Makin’ fun of him gets old after a while.” The two of you share a light chuckle as you hear Connor begin to shuffle files on his desk.

“He claims it gets old, yet he continues to berate me.” You don’t miss the smile in his voice when Connor speaks. You supported the revolution and never really saw the androids as just plastic imitating humans, yet it still takes you by surprise how warm androids were. Connor seems especially human due to the small mannerisms he possesses and the cadence that his voice holds.

Connor hands you a small stack of files, his voice taking on a different, more serious tone. “We currently have 12 open investigations. 9 of 12 cases are murders of androids by humans filed within the past 3 months. Due to the recent changes in the criminal law concerning androids, our authority over these cases is never guaranteed. We are operating in a grey area right now, so treat every case with caution, adhering to the law as closely as possible is crucial to our department.” You nod your head in agreement, your mind now focused on the task at hand.

“I say we begin with cases where evidence can be easily collected. The more abstract claims, like this one,” you flip the paper outwards on your desk showing the information inside, “an android tasked with taking care of a family – the Fletcher’s, was bought before the uprising and refused to work after. A death in the family is being blamed on the android, they’re claiming negligence. We can’t confidently arrest anyone in this situation due to the android laws concerning what is now ‘work’ or what was then slavery hasn’t been settled. Today our verdict of not guilty could just as easily change tomorrow. Murders based on hostility with clear motive need to be dealt with first, as it seems they’ll hold up even after laws are changed.” You brought your hand up to your mouth as you thought.

You didn’t notice the look Connor was giving you. It was filled with admiration and determination. He knew bringing you onto the team would help both men stay on task. You had a clear reputation for getting things done no matter the severity of the situation. Connor was good at analyzing, excelling in tasks that offered a clear objective, and Hank worked well on the fly. Together, they did well out in the field where there was little waiting around. In the office, however, they both got antsy, too focused on finding whatever would lead them towards ending the investigation.

Since his deviation from his programming Connor has been finding his job… irritating at times. He still enjoys fulfilling a task and succeeding in his field, however, he likes being outside, looking for clues and stimulating his mind. Writing reports and being tucked away was part of the job but he understands the definition of menial labor now. He also understands its one of the few things he’s come to dislike.

He speaks up, pulling you away from your thoughts on where the investigation should start. “This is the proficiency I was mentioning before. I agree with your assessment of the situation. I’ll go and make copies of these files, then we’ll begin sorting them by priority.” Before Connor can take the files you quickly scoop them up and stand from your desk.

“Actually, I can do that. I’ll start filing them while I make copies, you two can work on sorting assessment profiles. Everything should start feeling more organized once we do that.” Peering between the two men you begin to feel nervous when they both say nothing. “Oooor not?” You tilt your head to the side slightly as a way of questioning them.

Hank is the first to speak up, “Nah that’s fine with me. Anything to make this fuckin’ job easier.”

You nod, letting yourself out of the room and to the copier, stealing a glance at Connor before exiting.

As soon as you’re out of the room Hank glances over to Connor, still looking down at the papers (y/n) sprawled out on their desk. “So, what do you think of our newest recruit?” His voice gruff with exhaustion.

“I think she’s quite skilled in her area. They’re able to adapt to new situations and provide–"

“No, I mean, what do ya think of her?” Connor evaluates Hank’s question for a long while. His face distorted, flickering between concentration and confusion before finally answering.

“She’s nice. I haven’t known her for a long enough time to properly evaluate my feelings. However, I do look forward to having her presence here, both for the benefit of work and personally. They’re… intriguing. Most people here, even after my effort to get relations between humans and androids as peaceful and diplomatic as possible, are hostile towards me. However, (y/n) seems to care a great deal about the work they do. It’s a change of pace.” Connor stopped himself there. He wanted to say more. Wanted to talk about what he was feeling, the utter fascination that settled deep within his chest, but he was still trying to separate his programmed ‘emotions’ from his true feelings. In addition, he still had a job to do; he didn’t want to find himself too off track. He was, after all, still a professional being hired to complete a mission.

Hank smiles, noticing the small jab that Connor threw his way. “Well, I like her. No evaluatin’ needed. Don’t want to piss her off though, she seems like the type that would be sweet until things got serious. I want my name as far away from her shitlist as possible.” He put his hands behind his head looking over to Connor, wanting to probe just a little further on his feelings, but deciding against it after seeing his LED flash red.

Following his line of sight, Hank saw that Connor was glancing over in your direction through the large glass doors. He smiles knowingly.

“Hey, kid! Focus up.�� Hank’s voice carried throughout the room, making Connor look in his direction. A neutral look on his face, as his LED slowly turns yellow, and then blue before answering.

“Of course Lieutenant, I apologize.” Shaking his thoughts away from you, Connor begins to sort through files on his desk, looking for any reason to make the warmth in his chest dissipate. He didn’t know these feelings -- the ones that he could only assume resembled an ache, but he did know that you were the source and that only confused him more.

[its-called-a-balaclava]

The Team Fortress Testing Initiative

The sequel to Scout: The Aperture Test Subject (link here)

A situation lands ALL of the mercs into cooperative testing. No big deal, they’ve worked together on the field time and time again, right? Well, it’s not that simple.

Multi-Chapter Work-In-Progress

Teen and Up Audiences

Below: from @northern-raven (link here)

Chapter One: What’s With the Boots?

“And that’s what that book ‘The Metamorphosis’ was about; a human who was so stupid that he turned into a bug, so his brain would fit properly into his skull.” Wheatley said to Scout, who was listening with rapt attention.

“Damn. Heavy’s always sayin’ it’s a metaphor about how change affects people or somethin’ like that.” Scout responded, bouncing a tennis ball against the wall.

“Well, what would he know? You know what a PhD is? It’s a form of self-validation. And his PhD is in Russian literature, isn’t it?” Wheatley asked.

“Yeah,” Scout said

“Well, the original text was in German , and you don’t hear that doctor saying anything about redemption, do you?” Wheatley pointed out.

“Yeah… yeah !” Scout said, standing up. “You’re right!”

“Of course I’m right,” Wheatley said. “Now―”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he’s definitely incorrect.” Spy said, walking into the room, making Scout jump.

“What are you doin’ here?” Scout was indignant.

Spy sighed. “I need the thing,” he said, gesturing to Wheatley.

“Well, what happened to your old sapper?” Scout rather liked hanging out with Wheatley. He was a goldmine of information, and he wasn’t condescending about sharing it.

“It’s in the repair shop. Having to disable dozens of level three sentries will do that to a machine.”

Wheatley’s eye widened.

“Thank you,” Spy said, snatching the robot from the floor.

During the battle:

“Are we sneaking?”

“Alright, I’m disabling this machine now…”

“Act natural, we’ve done nothing wrong, right?”

“Why don’t you just stab him, that way we can eliminate the need for hacking?”

After seventeen trips to respawn, the battle was over, and Spy didn’t hesitate to follow their Engineer back to his workshop.

“Can you find some way to remove the speakers on this thing?” Spy asked, holding Wheatley up on the air.

“What? Hey!” he said as he was being waved around in the air for emphasis.

“Uh…” Engie really wasn’t prepared for this debacle.

“If you removed my speakers, I would be a living, sensory being, with no way to communicate to the outside world. Do you know what that is? That is torture. Literally. Philosophically, that is one of the worst forms of torture a being can experience.” Wheatley said, still held high in the air.

“Y’all know I don’t do philosophy.” Engie said. He’d met the “Ap-Sap”― Wheatley― once before, when handling the calibration settings, but he’d been programming the device at the time, so he’d never heard it talk.

“Well―” Wheatley began, but Spy cut him off.

“Please, just disable it.”

“Tell ya what, I’ve got your old sapper,” he handed it over. “Right here. That oughta do ya.”

Spy frowned at it. “True, but if I ever have to use this thing again…”

Even though Engie didn’t do philosophy, and he didn’t really think the robot was sentient, he didn’t feel comfortable taking away its ability to speak. “Look, even if I would shut this thing up,” he said, taking it from Spy, “I don’t know if I could. This ain’t like any machinery I’ve ever seen. Hell, the bolts alone don’t match any of my wrenches.”

Engie turned Wheatley around in his hands, analyzing the core-turned-sapper.

“I feel this is a violation of my personal space,” Wheatley protested.

“Aperture Laboratories― that was all the talk at my class reunion, shame it was just a myth.” Engie said all to himself, looking at the logo printed on the metal.

“What do you mean, a myth?” Spy said, raising an eyebrow. Normally, he would have just prodded Engie back to the present, but that sapper had caused much more trouble than just shoddy fieldwork.

“Well, the factory creates sappers and other specialty devices, apparently Pauling got this sapper from the place.” Engie murmured. “But the story is that the place is actually some messed up research facility. People trapped there as human guinea pigs, technology unlike any ever seen― stuff that would put my teleporters to shame. And actual AIs. This thing,” Engie gestured to Wheatley. “Is likely just a context-stimulated response generator. A box that pretends to talk, in layman’s terms. Probably why Pauling never got any more sappers from the company.” Engie said.

“That’s not true!” Wheatley protested, but it was lost amidst the conversation.

“Why do you care?” Engie asked Spy, puzzled. “Normally you just try and stop me from yammerin’.”

“I think I’ve taken a tour of this facility you are talking about. It’s not just a factory. And I have some questions you might know the answer to.” Spy was calm.

Engie was not. “You’ve ‘taken a tour’? Wait, wait― does this have anything to do when you had to find Scout about a week ago? And y’all missed dinner?”

“To all of those questions, yes.” Spy said.

“Well, then, bring him in. If this is anything like you’re implying, I need to hear more about it.” Engie was leaning forward on his desk chair now, animated with curiosity.

“For scientific purposes or so you will be the center of attention at your next class reunion?” Spy questioned him.

“Probably both,” Engie replied.

By the time they had finished the story― Scout and Spy rushing to cut each other off whenever they could― it was not only Engie, but all of the mercenaries, who were gathered around the workshop table.

“Interesting,” Sniper said.

“So ‘interesting’, I find it hard to believe it happened. Especially considering that we’re only hearing about it now.” Medic chimed in.

Nobody noticed Scout leave the room.

“Why would I lie about this?” Spy addressed Medic, but it was Heavy who answered:

“Shame. You were lost.” the words were short, but they carried weight. Spy, lost and scared in the middle of nowhere? Unthinkable, but more likely than the other story.

“First of all, that is not what happened,” said Spy. “And, secondly, if it had― which I again will remind you it didn't― you really think that going along with a story that Scout made up would be my course of action? Of course not. The sheer ridiculousness of the event proves it to be true. There was simply no point in saying anything earlier, especially since I knew the credibility of this story is doubtful at best.”

“Well―” Demo said, but he was cut off by Scout slamming the door open like a drama queen on a reality T.V. show.

“If I were makin’ this up, then where did I get these ?” he planted a foot in front of him― a foot encased in a Long-Fall Boot. He’d been set to wear them everywhere, right up until he’d caught himself in the mirror after he’d come home. He’d stowed them in the back of his closet and never put them on again.

Well, until now.

It was impossible to tell who burst out laughing first. Engie calmed down the soonest, chortling until he looked closer at the sleek quality and careful design of the boots. “Come over here, boy,” he said, a grin still tugging at the side of his mouth. “Lemme see that.”

Scout bounced over― literally; these things were like springs for his feet― and  raised a foot, trying to keep the awkwardness to a minimum.

Engie could see the purpose of the boots, the way they were structured so a fall would never hurt the wearer, so long as they landed feet-first. He tapped his chin, Newton’s laws and energy equations swirling around in his mind.

Engie said, “Boy, I need you to walk around. Need to see more of it. How it works and such.” Actually, he didn’t. But when would an opportunity like this arise again?

Scout blushed, but it was for the best. He paraded around the room, slowly walking heel-to-toe as he watched Engie watching him.

Engie did his best to keep a straight face. “Alright, now walk backwards.”

“Wha―”

Engie snapped his fingers. “It’s important, boy.”

Everyone had caught on, and as Scout walked backwards― and straight into the wall― Demo had to hide his laughs in a round of fake coughing.

“These ceilings are high, boy.” Engie said, and it was all he could do to keep the smile off of his face. “Jump.”

“Did― didja say ‘jump’?”

“Yup. You have to jump.” The ceilings were tall, but if Engie’s guess was right, they weren’t tall enough. “Just once.”

Scout was scarlet now. But it was okay; it was to prove it happened. And Engie was a total genius at these things.

He sprang up and collided with the ceiling, hitting a light fixture with his forehead and landing on the floor with no dignity whatsoever.

“HAH! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!” Engie cried, slapping his knee. The rest joined in for another fit of laughter. “Holy hell, that was funny, boy. But in all seriousness,” he said, seeing the red mark on Scout’s head and feeling bad, “All I wanna see now is the gun.”

“The… gun?” Scout asked.

Engie put his hands on the table. “This could make teleportin’ on the field revolutionary. If you can give it to me, within a week, I can give a working model to all of us.”

“Um, I don’t have it,” Scout said, avoiding his gaze.

Engie straightened up. “What do ya mean, you don’t have it?”

“Uh, I think I dropped it somewhere after we left the place, before we got back in Spy’s car. It’s cool, though,” Scout said. “I like the teleporters we have now.”

Engie leaned in closer to everyone gathered around the table. He had a fire in his eyes― and as everyone would soon find out, enough metal detectors to go around.

Next Chapter

Notes:

I don’t usually put images in these posts, but this was just perfect… I just wish it would show up with higher res but that’s tumblr for ya, click the link guys! 

Whelp, this is the end of the first chapter of the second part. I love comments, so, leave one! You know, if you want.

And also, I’ll admit I’ve never read The Metamorphosis, but I’m sure Wheatley’s wrong about this one.