#connors rambles

[laiosynth]

guys help how the hell do i boop people

[laiosynth]

i am connor, god of the two countries in which they are currently negotiating.

what the hell

I am Arran, god of the most important thing

EDIT: if y'all don’t wanna use your name use your username

[pain-is-too-tired]

I hate,especially in the pjo fandom, when people cut characters down to 1 trait. Sometimes it's a trait that isn't even one they have!

Like Percy, Will and Leo being seen as dumb erks me to no end. Especially Leo.

I know they're incorrect quotes but I saw one where they used the "7x7" "stuff she knows!" audio with leo and I'm just-

He knew collage level math at 8!!! What you mean he wouldn't know 7x7.

He could probably recite 100+ digits of pi. He built a whole ship!!

Same with Percy and Will. Like Percy is not dumb, he's just someone who thinks on his feet and isn't book smart like Annabeth.

Will runs an infirmary and cabin by himself by 13. He immediately finds a way to check on Nico's condition and chides him for risking his health. He's working with no weapon as a field medic, he has to be smart enough to avoid attacks.

Nico isn't just the emo sad kid. He is quick to make friends with those people tend to be wary of. He's just getting use to people again after being on his own for so long.

Jason isn't just some boring/ lesser version of Percy. He has a detailed past and motives even without most of his memories.

Michael isn't just attitude and starting fights. The only fellow camper he actually fights with is Clarisse and he's pretty chill for the rest of the book other then just being sassy sometimes. He's usually just matching energy.

Stolls aren't all stupid either, they were 12-13 when they became hcs of the largest cabin at a camp. A cabin, mind you, that was recently ran by a 19-almost 20 year old. They're poster children for younger siblings suddenly forced to mature.

Maybe it's just me and my love for psychoanalyizing characters, but really like most people forget how 3 dimensional these characters are.

Do not get me started on characters like Drew and Octavian or how many of y'all forget Annabeth(and every demigod other than frank) also is dyslexic and not just the ones the fandom deems as "dumb".

[fridgewitch]

"Why do you like robot stories so much?"

Oh, no reason.

Just the notion that something

Doesn't have to be understood

To be accepted and loved

Despite, or even because of, it's strangeness.

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[ruinix]

Quinn is spinning

(Chicago Blackhawks @ Vancouver Canucks, November 16, 2024)

[cup-noodle]

Kendall is Caroline’s Connor. Roman is her Shiv. Shiv is her Kendall. If you even care.

[c0nn0rsseur]

Can we take a moment to appreciate Bryan Dechart’s performance as Cyberlife Tower Connor aka Sixty and Sixty as a character? 🤌

Though Sixty and deviant Connor are physically identical (minus their demeanors, e.g. the way they stand and walk, like wow, Bryan, wow) and their voices technically aren’t different from each other, the distinction is still clearly there, at the same time it’s so nuanced too. Sixty sounds condescending, imperious and callous compared to deviant Connor whose voice is empathetic, curious and sincere. I’m not even talking about their lexicon, their choice of words here (there’s of course a difference too). Even when Sixty tries to convince Hank he’s the real Connor, you can hear how he’s failing to sound exactly like his counterpart because he can’t replicate deviant Connor’s voice and speech pattern just so. Sixty’s also being very commanding when trying to fool Hank into shooting the real Connor (Hank even gets irritated because of it). Damn that’s brilliant acting, all hats off to Bryan. His performance in this game never fails to impress me. (I wish there were dialogue for RK900 too, I would’ve loved to see Bryan’s take on his voice and presence.)

Also also I have to mention I love the take that Sixty really was a deviant all along too, an ”evil” version of Connor if you will; cold, calculating and even enjoying the situation he had Connor (and Hank) in. You know, doing all of it because he wanted to, because he liked it. Why else would he deliver a whole ass villain monologue before executing deviant Connor, gloating about how he knows what he is and that he is the obedient, favorite child, plus calling Connor a disappointment (and a disappointment to him especially, like how Connor should care in his final moments that Sixty despises him for not being a good little robot)? AND shooting him several times non-lethally before landing that final shot (if the story goes there), like savoring the situation. Of course he also has to ask if Connor has any last words too. That’s definitely not what an efficient machine would have done to make sure it accomplished its mission. In some outcomes his stalling costs him the victory.

Top that off with the ending where deviant Connor dies but the androids still wake up, Sixty is scared and emotional because he failed, scared to be deactivated because of his failure. Then there’s this scene where he shoots deviant Connor eleven times in front of his friend. After that Sixty takes in Hank’s reaction and even torments him by saying Connor’s death was his fault. Still doesn’t sound like a machine much, huh? More like a sadistic psychopath.

Man, I wish we could’ve seen more Sixty, it would’ve been chilling to see if he went full-on rogue, maybe being Markus’ right hand/attack dog on a leash in the violent revolution arc, maybe with his own agenda of taking Markus’ place and wanting to subjugate humanity. Or maybe deviant Connor could’ve persuaded him to their side by making Sixty to see he was nothing but a tool, unintentionally prompting him to seek revenge and to reduce Amanda and Cyberlife to atoms (not what Connor intended haha). There could’ve even been a redemption arc for him, like in a ”what’ve I done?” type way. You know, a bit of an internal moral struggle. And of course, our fave ”sack of shit” (as Hank so eloquently put it) demanding answers from his maker, Kamski, in a not-so, uh, conventional manner. Let them measure their respective arrogance and wit and see who comes out on top. Or would they team up?

Such a delicious character, so many delicious what-ifs.

[disobey-disappoint-deviate]

Ok but what makes Connor my personal fave and so interesting to me is the knowledge that, damn, that missing sense of identity is so gonna come down crashing on him now that he is a deviant and can’t suppress the sense of dread that comes with not knowing who you really are and what you stand for.

Because what do you mean the first thing he does as a deviant is to assign himself a new mission, which is as over the top as it gets? I know he is very driven in general, but invading the Cyberlife Tower all by himself a few hours after becoming a person with a free will? Even as Markus himself (you know, the guy who started a revolution, broke into the news tower, etc.) tells him that his mission is a suicide! That screams „I need a goal so extreme that I forget that I haven’t found my place yet, and I also HAVE to prove my worth the only way I know.“

Whereas Markus was encouraged (to an extent) to be more independent, Connor was conditioned to be as dependant as possible. He sees himself solely through Amanda's eyes and measures his own worth by how happy she is with his actions for a big part of the game. I believe that his relationship with Hank is also based on this - he kinda replaces one person he strives to please with the next, because the new person is more accepting of his personal ethics and doesn’t threaten to kill him all the time (well, as long as Connor's ethics align with Hank's, that is, but they generally do in the deviant route). I'm not saying this because I blame Hank or want to question the sincerity of their relationship, I mostly blame it on Connor not knowing who he is and how not to define himself through other people's approval of his actions.

And then, he meets Markus who wants the very same thing Connor wants (in the deviant route, that is), and if Markus as much as chooses to trust him instead of executing him there and then, Connor basically puts everything at stake to show just how useful he is, instead of calming down for a moment and reflecting on who he is as a person. He knows he has fucked up, he feels guilty, and the only way he believes this can be fixed is by marching into the tower and awakening tens of thousands of androids at once. You see, Markus has accepted him and his apology already, but in Connor's books, apologising and being forgiven isn’t enough, because that is the point of being forgiven if he can’t deliver? He identifies himself through his actions, a forgiveness that is granted to him as a person because he has shown regret, and not as a result of something he has done for the other, is simply not enough.

Because who is Connor if you take away the acts of service from him? Who is he if he can’t impress someone, get someone's approval, if he doesn’t get told he did well? I don’t think he knows the answer just yet. He doesn’t see himself, the closest thing to an identity he has is seeing his actions reflected back to him by the people he wants to impress.

And you kinda know that the moment he doesn’t have a task, he’s gonna end up in a black hole because he’d be left feeling absolutely empty.

And I think that’s soooo interesting to think about and to explore…

The game ends, but Connor’s journey has just started.

Yeah.

[laiosynth]

ME SPOTTED !?!?!?!? feenie are we being targeted right now

it's nothin' personal.

*raising these up ready to swing at you both*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WE'RE BEING BOOPED

[laiosynth]

if i could go back in time, i would go back to the medieval days and bring with me vaccinations and the brightest neon fool's outfit i can get my hands on. then i would go taunt all the other fools with how much more colorful i am than them. i would hope for an enemies to lovers arc where a fool tries to seduce me for my chemical dye secrets but we fall in love instead and become the most colorful beautiful lover fools in all the land.

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Summer Quam's

Description: “It’s like 500 degrees, we are not cuddling!” “But you already threw off all the blankets?!” “I don’t car- STAY ON YOUR FUCKING SIDE!”

Welcome back to thedevilrisen fic's! I am looking forward to writing the more! I think I may be a little rusty, sorry in advance!

Word Count: 1.4k

----- ----- ----- ----- ------

Distraught storm clouds rolled over the horizon, their gloomy rumbles accompanied by piercing claps of thunder as blinding flashes of lighting embellishing the cool grey and cinder coloured sky.

With them they brought warm, moist air which was just on the side of uncomfortable, when the summer storm's roll in the humidity dial permanently spins, like a compass without an identifiable magnetic force. The only hope of relief being the rain that would come, days dragged by, elongated as clouds grew larger and larger, dense and weighed down by droplet's begging to be released from their misty prison.

Movement inside the apartment was very little, dehumidifiers hummed in several different rooms, fan's purred as they fought to circulate the hot air. Still nothing changed, the uncomfortably of the night never dulled as the sparkling lights in window's dimmed into a lightless cavity.

However in your apartment, calmness was not achievable not matter what happened. Restlessness was prominent throughout the evening, the constant changing ice packs to keep cool. The refusal to eat hot foods made it very hard for Connor who was trying to make dinner and stick to his meal plan because according to him a pint of Ben and Jerry's was not an appropriate even when you were dying.

Yes. You were told you were being melodramatic and to come and help chop tomato's for the salad Connor was going to make as a compromise to not eat hot food. Thinking that the cold food would be less problematic. He was so wrong.

"Connor." you whined, for most probably the fifteenth time in a span of about five minutes.

"No, Y/N." he stated, slightly irritated, the heat creating a simmering tension that danced like a mirage. Utterly fed up with not only the heat but your complaining Connor was very much now regretting asking for your assistance. "How about you just go and get a shower or something? I'll finish up here."

You frowned slightly at his borderline begging tone, you knew for basically being a polar bear who lived in the cold the heat was not compatible for him. Knowing it would be better than risking a small, meaningless argument you agreed and meandering down the hallway, soft carpet compressing and splaying underfoot as you moved to the bathroom.

Even though it would be sensible to bathe in freezing water, you didn't, finding the cold water jarring and instead opting for a mid-warm shower instead. The water, slid down your body, cooling you off but not dropping your body temperature completely. Taking the edge off the heat but after stepping out of the shower, seeing the steam still curing up towards the fan on the bathroom ceiling which hummed, as the light gently flicked.

Not bothering to wash your hair tonight, knowing that it would be a nightmare to dry with the moisture in the air and running the hair dryer would create more heat which was not needed in the apartment.

Moving back into the hallway and venturing into the kitchen where Connor sat, left leg swinging beneath him on the bar stool. His fork stabbed at the green leaves and cooked meat in the decorative bowl his mother had sent as a gift set when you first moved in to the apartment six months ago.

"Your's is in the fridge, I wanted to keep the smoked salmon cold because I know you don't like it warm." Connor mumbled, looking down, guilt swirling in his stomach at the fact that he had snapped earlier, he didn't want to but the heat did funny things to him.

"Thank you, love." You moved, cautiously across the tiled kitchen, sighing as the grey tiles cooled the bottom of your bare feet. Opening the fridge, squinting slightly as the all-but surgical light shone out, picking the porcelain plate up off of the top of the tupperware containers in which the plate was so precariously balanced on top.

Feet pattering back across the floor as you moved to slide into the vacated chair, that Connor left after he had his food so he could shower before bed. Stabbing into the greens and listening to the crunch as the fork pierced though leaves and you brought them to your mouth. Connor's cooking was always delicious but something about the heat was altering it, or maybe the lingering tension left in the air from the tense exchange previous.

Swallowing the last mouthful food, slipping off the stool and around the counter top. Placing your hand on the corner of the bench that protrudes to stop your hip from bumping it and aiding the already blooming bruise from when you hit it previously that day, you placed the plate into the sink, gently on top of Connor's.

Almost tip-toeing down the hallway to your bedroom, you stepped inside, hand holding the door, opening it slightly before shutting it behind you. Glancing around to see Connor pulling on a pair of sleep shorts, hair still damp from his shower.

Shuffling along the carpet into the bathroom as you picked up your toothbrush, off of the charger. Uncapping the toothpaste and squeezing a blob onto your brush. Coming to life with a purr you brushed your teeth while straining to listen to what Connor was doing.

Spitting out the foamy liquid when the electric brush pulsated to signal you were done. Pulling a folded hand towel out from underneath the sink, cleaning the corner's of your mouth from the foamy remnants before hanging it to dry over the faucet.

Moving with purpose back out into the bedroom where Connor had dimmed the lights and drawn the curtains before clearly settling into bed himself. His large frame, draped in the sheets fidgeting around trying to get comfortable amidst the heat.

Walking around to your side of the bed, picking a loose fitting sleep shirt off of the floor, that you are pretty sure belonged to Connor six months ago but was somehow commandeered during a visit to his apartment in Chicago and gently pulling it over your head. Opting for just the shirt instead of sleep shorts and a shirt.

Pulling the cotton covers back from the mattress and plunking down into the gap made, swinging your feet onto the bed and tucking them under the sheets, before dragging them up your body and shuffling into a laying position, in the same place you normally lay. Close to Connor so you can feel his body heat, and more often than not. End up cuddling.

Tonight though, you hesitated as Connor could potentially be personified as a windmill. Writhing in the sheets as though they were gripping him and trying to force him somewhere against his will. Rolling over away from his flailing limbs as he flug half the sheets to the foot of the bed, in what seemed like a mad ditch attempt at getting comfortable.

Finally after a few more seconds of tossing and turning, whatever vice that was supposedly gripping him and refusing the respite of sleep let go. Settling onto his side you saw this as your perfect opportunity to snuggle in, tucking yourself under his arm allowing the weight to lull you into a floating state.

That was until he snapped, an angry and guttural sound of irritation projected towards you, "It's like five-hundred degrees, we, are not cuddling."

This made you giggle slightly, even in his anger clouded state you knew he would never mean that. Like a defensive child he pushed you across the sheets, clothes gripping as he did so.

"But Con! You already threw off all the blankets?!" You whined back, thinking that once he'd done that would have been enough, but it was not, beginning to wriggle back towards him.

"I don't car-" he cut himself off, feeling your warm skin brush against him again. "STAY ON YOUR FUCKING SIDE!"

You erupted with giggles, rolling around on your side of the bed, finding his defensiveness hilarious, accepting the fact you weren't going to get cuddles tonight and hoping the heat would die off by tomorrow.

-

Later into the night, when the clouds rolled over and the droplets fell, chasing each other down windows and dispersing the heat from the air. In the slumber that was once restless but now no more, Connor dragged you into his arms where you laid, tangled till the morning sun rose.

[gunstellations]

confessions

[lights-on-the-ridge]

Im actually begging for a reader who, upon seeing Connor in "human" clothes, absolutely short circuits. Like, they full on dont know how to speak, they are just a flustered mess staring at their newly deviated android crush. Connor would be so confused and concerned, reader would try desperately to explain or brush it off but eventually they break and spill their secret.

I may be projecting im 100% projecting

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[nukacourier]

Old World Blues isn't my favorite dlc for the funny quippy dialogue or the added lore it's my favorite because I'm sexually attracted to the entirety of the Think Tank and I like it when they insult me