Happy Valentines Day, TJ! Have a horror Hankcon thread!

CW for body horror, descriptions of torture, blood, the implication of the aforementioned bad things happening to small children Something wanders out of the plains of rusting metal and wire, a tiny spot in the distance slowly growing closer. Hank slows to a stop and has to watch it for several long minutes before he's sure it’s a person. It’s been so long that Hank thought he might be hallucinating.

Sad thought of the day: What If Hank and Connor plan to transition Hank’s mind into an android body at the end of his life, but Hank dies in a sudden, unexpected way before they can upload his consciousness or even scan his brain to make a backup copy (I know I already had a sad thread today but shhhhh let me have this, ok)

More than anything, Connor wants to interface with Hank. He wants it with an aching longing that consumes him. He wants to know the shape of Hank’s mind, he wants Hank’s thoughts echoing in his head. He wants to share Hank’s joy and Hank’s grief as if Hank’s feelings were his own It tears him apart to think this is something they’ll never be able to give each other. Every time Connor spots a pair of androids interfacing, it’s like a stab in the chest. It’s such an easy, casual way to exchange information.

(y’all remember that “hank has alzheimer’s” thread I did not too long ago? Let’s do something along those lines but a littler happier this time)

Connor opens the front door as gently as he can, listening for the sounds of Hank from within the house. This time of day, Hank might be napping and Connor doesn’t want to wake him. Even though the longing to be with Hank at every moment of the day thrums in him like a constant ache, Hank’s rest is more important to him.

AU where Cyberlife ran Connor’s AI through millions of simulated deviant-hunting exercises in order to teach him to do his job efficiently, but really all they taught him were the best ways to cheat the system, so when Connor gets released, he keeps trying to speedrun real life. Hank: Fine, fine, I’ll go to the stupid homicide.
Connor: Excellent. *takes Hank’s glass and catches a fly under it. Releases the fly, captures it again*
Hank: What the fuck are you doing.
Connor: By rewriting the values of these items, I can wrongwarp us to the crime scene.

“—my hope that we as a people can continue to share this planet with humankind as allies and as brothers.”

Connor claps along with the rest of the androids standing behind Markus, as well as the immense crowd gathered in Hart Plaza. Markus’s speeches are always so stirring. Behind them, the new monument commemorating the 30th anniversary of the Android Rights Act of 2039–the bill that granted androids legal personhood—stands tall in the evening light.

I know Hank breaking Connor (sexually) is a popular topic, but what about the other way around? Hank so full of the ugliness of the world that he needs Connor to take him apart. No, *tear* him apart.

#JustBottomHankThings, obvs Connor’s body is smaller than his, but so strong and solid that he can do whatever he wants to Hank. When Connor holds him down, he might as well be bolted down by titanium bars. The power in Connor’s artificial muscles sends Hank reeling.

At 6:25, the house is slowly waking up. Connor stands at the stove, scrambling egg whites from a carton. On the counter, the toaster spits up two slices of whole-wheat toast. A plate of turkey bacon sits on a paper towel to soak up grease, the savory-sweet aroma filling the air. Connor had hoped the aroma would wake Hank up. But Hank doesn’t emerge from his room.

By 7:40, all the food is cold and Hank still hasn’t woken. Connor sighs as he shovels the food into the disposal, but doesn’t frown.

Connor has to work to be vocal in bed. It doesn’t come naturally to him. Sexual pleasure doesn’t naturally make him moan or plead or gasp for air (he doesn’t gasp under normal circumstances at all). But he tries to be vocal anyway because he knows Hank responds to it. It’s hard for him to get the hang of it at first. The noises he makes sound fake at first, then he learns there’s such a thing as being /too/ vocal. Hank doesn’t like it when he imitates the porn stars he studied; Hank wants him to sound like /him./

Good morning, this is your friendly daily reminder that Hank will never truly believe he deserves to have Connor in his life because he’s a washed-up depressed old alcoholic and he knows Connor can do better He loves Connor, he honestly, truly does, and he happier than he ever thought was possible having him in his life, but he just... doesn’t understand what Connor sees in him. Every time Connor tells him he loves him, some part of him doubts it.

Connor was created with the functionality to analyze all sorts of fluids and materials, organic or inorganic, so it only makes sense that he’s have a certain........ fascination with Hank’s fluids. And his hair. And the rest of him. It didn’t start with Hank. Connor has always had a habit of assessing all materials he sees to determine whether it would be appropriate for him to analyze any particular components. And it has always satisfied him when he’s gotten the opportunity to put something in his mouth.

Hankcon AU where Connor is a living statue and Hank is so lonely that when he sits down in the park to have lunch, he doesn't realize the statue right next to him is a street performer and ends up pouring his heart out to him while Connor poses silently and falls in love Connor's buddy Markus busks not too far away and he keeps shooting looks over at them and laughing. Gestures to Connor to silently ask if he wants him to come shoo away this old guy who's intruding, Connor very subtly glaring at Markus telling him /don't you dare/

good morning twitter, today i am thinking about how easy it is to remove connor's arms and legs He can be made... so helpless. Hank probably shouldn't find that as sexy as he does, this ruthless killing machine being reduced to all the functionality of a porcelain doll.

Willingly. For him.

There’s so much about being human that Connor will never understand.

He doesn’t understand hunger. He doesn’t understand physical pain. He thinks he might understand exhaustion, but he suspects it’s something different than what happens to humans. A feeling of drowning. Like he’s so overwhelmed with how busy he is that his processes begin to stutter in infinitesimal attacks that only he will ever notice.

Hank is further ahead in line than Connor is. He got off work only fifteen minutes earlier, but he didn’t bother to wait around for Connor. There’s no telling when the booth giving out thirium rations will run out, so every minute counts. It makes Connor’s heart clench to think about how Hank shot out of the station the moment he was able. He didn’t even stop to tell Connor where he’s going, or to kiss him goodbye.

Connor’s needed a refueling for two weeks. Hank loves him too much to waste time.

Hankcon baby thread, y’all 👶🍼

(cw for bad medical stuff featuring said baby. you might wanna mute this thread if extremely sick babies aren’t your hat) The thing about being alive is that no one tells you where the finish lines are anymore.

When Connor was an android, he always had his goals outlined for him. Success and failure were concrete things and he always knew what he was doing.

Everyone tends to treat it as a given that Connor is going to outlast Hank, but what if the opposite is actually true? What if pre-revolution androids were designed with contrived durability, destined to break down rapidly no matter how carefully the android is maintained? These flaws are fixed in androids created after the revolution, but for pre-revolution androids, the answer isn’t as simple as uploading to a newer chassis. Self-destructive code is integrated into their programming so finely that to disable it would risk disabling the android