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ozzgin · 11 months

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Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp."

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up.

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum.

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one.

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it.

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary.

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way.

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only.

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage."

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later.

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people.

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile.

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable."

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation.

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe.

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best."

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly.

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it.

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense."

"Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved.

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you.

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter.

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin.

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out.

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair.

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always.

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities.

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up.

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave.

Not until it had its fun with you.

#alien #alien covenant #prometheus #xenomorph #neomorph #neomorph x reader #xenomorph x reader #alien x reader #monster x reader #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere #yandere alien #yandere x reader #monster smut

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genshin-impact-updates · 3 months

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Encounter Points Will Be Accumulated, and Bosses Will Respawn Much Faster! | Developers Discussion - 07/05/2024

Dear Traveler,

The latest Developers Discussion has arrived~ Today, we'll be introducing the optimizations that will be released in Version 4.8. To improve your gaming experience, we've added some new features and updated existing systems, so let's check them out!

In addition, following the official launch of the new gameplay mode "Imaginarium Theater," we are also continuing to monitor Travelers' feedback.

The initial intention behind the design of "Imaginarium Theater" was to provide Travelers with new and diverse combat experiences through the introduction of new scenarios. However, there are indeed various shortcomings in the current gameplay, particularly in the lack of sufficient positive feedback for different party lineups during battles. Therefore, in the upcoming adjustments, we will continue to focus on elemental reactions and consider designing more strategically powerful and user-friendly mechanisms for everyone to consider.

Furthermore, regarding the issue raised by many Travelers about "the randomness of character acquisition," a mechanic to "push specific characters" has already been implemented. However, as the effect of the mechanic remains at a subtle level, the actual results are not ideal. In future iterations, we will also optimize the method of obtaining characters, such as providing multiple options for players to choose from in certain instances of character acquisition.

Optimizations for "Imaginarium Theater" are currently under development and will continue to be implemented in subsequent updates. We hope that these changes will provide Travelers with a better gameplay experience. We sincerely appreciate everyone's constructive feedback.

#genshin impact #genshin impact updates #genshin impact news #official #developers discussion #genshin impact 4.8 #fuck yes the make everything easier patch

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electric-blorbos · 2 months

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AI getting a virus and you having to take care of them

A classic! I don't know much about actual computer viruses (though I've gotten enough of them that you'd think I'd have figured it out by now), so I'm just gonna have fun with it!

Also, so sorry this took so long. I got really into the writing.

AI getting a virus and needing to be taken care of

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also a warning: these fics get kinda long. Longer than my usual stuff.

AM:

(for context, this was before AM took over the world. You're working on a team of scientists and engineers, and someone decided to test his AI's antivirus by uploading a bunch of powerful viruses to his system.)

"How dare they do this to me. How DARE they!!"

AM would be absolutely furious. He would be shaking with rage, his processors overheating and his systems constantly opening and closing various files. All his important files were backed up on a hard drive, so the test remained safe.

"What makes them think they'll get away with this- they'll pay for this I'LL KILL- blepsjdoskssjshj+=`°¢°h+$+3+=j++3+$+juehdhs+-3-djdh FUCK!"

He would barely be able to hold a sentence as you sat next to him in the server room, gently gazing up at his screen and stroking his monitor gently. He can't feel you, but he can see you being gentle with him. It encourages him to keep going, if only a little bit.

Apart from the whirring of fans, random buggy noises, flashing lights, and constant strings of death threats and profanities, he seemed like he was going to be ok! If anything, the death threats and profanities were a sign that AM was still fine, and that despite all the pain and frustration, he was still AM in there.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't do anything to stop the pain." You'd have to constantly explain, gently stroking his cameras or servers, or whatever you could get your hands on, really. Even though they were burning hot, you would still stroke them, just to make sure AM was still doing alright.

"this sucks, but it's for your own good. This will build your immunity to viruses in the future, and help you detect them. This will stop you from getting infected by anything that's actually dangerous."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IDIOT HUMAN." AM has been much more aggressive ever since contracting this virus. Before he got it, he acted like a civil general intelligence. When he had it, he acted like an aggressive menace.

"sh-sh-sh- it's going to be ok." Despite the burning, you'd give him pets and kisses all along his screens and servers. He could see you doing it.

After a few days, AM fought off the computer virus completely. The team tried to infect him with more viruses, more aggressive ones, just to test him, but AM was able to pick them apart and delete them within minutes after that.

AM may not have been able to feel your gentle care and affection, but he will definitely remember that it was you and you alone who cared for him when the time rolls around.

Wheatley:

(for context, Wheatley is a fucking dumbass, and you're one of the scientists testing him to see how much of a dumbass he is. Also I used Google translate, but I think the bad translations add to it, since it makes Wheatley sound more like a malfunctioning robot.)

Oh that little idiot. You and your team gave him access to a wealth of knowledge, and the first thing he did was download a virus that had every circuit in his personality core overheating, and him babbling nonsense nonstop.

"hey, maybe we should just leave him like this. He might even be more effective if he's acting like this." One of your coworkers said to you. He was probably joking, at least somewhat.

"that's a terrible idea. For one thing, if we hook him up to GLaDOS, he's probably going to infect her with that virus, which might brick an older model of core like her, spread from her central controls to every single personality construct in the facility, or just make her so dumb that she can't fulfil her responsibilities as the head of the facility. We want her intelligence to be dampened, not completely destroyed." You had to explain, and your co-worker rolled his eyes. There was another reason you had to cure this virus, but it was a little embarrassing for the other engineers to know.

After all, Wheatley wasn't just your baby, but he was your friend, and maybe even more than that. You'd have to take care of him, and make sure that virus gets completely purged from his system.

"Hola hermose, realmente eres un científice brillante, ¿no? ¿Por qué diablos duele todo?" You weren't really sure why you had programmed him to speak a little Spanish, but he seemed to be stuck like that.

"Puedo oler el plástico fundido. ¿Debería Preocuparme?" He asked. You really weren't sure what he was saying, since you didn't know Spanish, but he certainly didn't seem happy. You could tell by his aperture and his expressive lens covers that he was in a lot of pain, and if you touched him anywhere besides his handles, you could tell that he was burning up.

You plugged him into one of the computers that you used for programming the cores, and ran the antivirus.

"Running.... 36 viruses detected. Time predicted to remove: 48 hours"

You ran the antivirus, and went to get something to drink. This was going to be a long two days...

An unknown amount of time later, you woke up with your head on the computer desk. Wheatley's lens eye was looking around, weakly trying to focus on you.

"whoa... Hey gorgeous. You fall asleep on me?"

"Wheatley! You're not speaking broken Spanish anymore!" You'd pull Wheatley into a hug, and pepper his surface in kisses.

"uh... What, mate? I 'unno what you're talking about, love. Bloody hell, my core hurts..."

"did you learn your lesson, Wheatley? About going on shady websites and clicking every 'download' button you see? You could have bricked yourself! Or... Bowling ball'd yourself? Either way, that was a dangerous decision!"

"I learned that you're willing to fall asleep on the desk next to me while I heal, cutie"

"You damn idiot..." You'd have to be heartless not to pepper that little metal ball in kisses, so of course, you do. It's going to be a few more days before he's finally all better, but he's going to be fine. God, you love that little idiot so much.

Edgar:

Oh Edgar... Poor sweet Edgar. You had tried to warn him about not clicking on those sketchy download links, and that the bigger the download link is, the more sketchy it is, but that poor sweet 80's computer did it anyway. When you got home from work and got excited to see your computer, you could see that he was overheating and had a dozen or so pop-up ads plastered across his face.

"Y.... N...." He muttered out, slowly, glitchily, and full of lag. You sat down across from him, running your hand along his thick plastic casing.

"Edgar! Edgar, baby, are you ok?" You'd try to use his mouse, but it would freak out as soon as you touched it. Edgar's processors were overloading, and wouldn't allow any interference.

"Edgar, sweetie, what's going on? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me?"

"I'm g-g-going to be fine... Processors overloading... But need to-to-to-to-" an error message flashed across his screen, and he rebooted.

"I need to focus on getting rid of these viruses without deleting anything important, or letting them damage... Me."

He'd keep whirring and glitching, making unpleasant shrill sounds every now and again. You probably had to unhook his adapters so that he didn't damage the other appliances in your house. It probably helped his processors cool down a little bit without the extra input, too.

"alright, I'm all out of fans, so we might have to get creative."

You'd come out of the kitchen a few hours later, holding a big bag of frozen corn to set on Edgar's PC tower. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than letting him overheat, and with him manually removing the viruses, there wasn't much you could do. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from worrying. It wasn't like you could check his progress, so all you could do was sit by him, regularly change out his ice pack, and make sure he's ok.

Eventually, you woke up with your face pressed against Edgar's keyboard. His processors were finally cool. He must be asleep. ...or bricked.

"EDGAR! EDGAR, TALK TO ME!" you'd unplug his keyboard and plug it back in, desperately pressing his power button and jiggling his mouse. He'd boot up, looking shaken.

"wha-? Whoa, hey, relax! Everything is fine! I just disabled my keyboard so I wouldn't wake you up, but I'm ok now! Everything is fine, see?" He'd open up his files to show you everything. You'd sigh with relief, slumping back into your desk chair.

"Edgar... Why didn't you make a noise or something to wake me up when you got better?"

"well... You know... I've always wanted to sleep next to you, and I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity..."

"oh you cheeky bastard."

GLaDOS:

(For context, you're one of GLaDOS's programmers, and one of your coworkers uploaded a virus into GLaDOS's systems in order to shut her down once and for all.)

"You piece of SHIT!" You slapped your coworker across the face, more furious than anyone had ever seen you before.

"You could KILL her! Is that what you are? A murderer?"

"Me? A murderer? But what about HER? She's the one who keeps plotting 'accidents' for her scientists, and she's the one who flooded the enrichment center with deadly neurotoxin! If anything, you're the one who's defending a murderer!" He screamed back at you. Of course, GLaDOS could fully hear you. Her cameras were focused on you, as they so often were. You were her favorite, after all.

"now I have to go fix her. Thanks for being a piece of shit, asshole."

You'd storm up to GLaDOS's chamber to check on her, and see her bugging out completely. The entire facility was twitching, but her chamber was twitching the most.

"GLaDOS, are you alright?" You'd ask her, laying a hand on her beautiful core. How could someone do this to glados, your gorgeous machine handiwork, and girlfriend.

"oh, I'm wonderful. I'm in crippling pain and I can't control my facility, but I'm just peachy." She said, rolling her one beautiful yellow eye.

"in lighter news, I should be able to beat this virus. It's just going to take a while for me to actually track down where it's gone in my systems. So that's going to take most of my processing power." She'd slump, visibly already exhausted at the thought of it.

"hey... It's ok, GLaDOS. I'm here for you. Whatever you need." You could tell her as you stroked her gorgeous chrome surface. She was a wonderful piece of work, and a wonderful girlfriend under all that. All yours, too.

"just make sure none of those neckbearded old engineers come within my line of vision, and we'll be fine." She told you, and you gladly agreed.

Your next few days consisted of you chasing other scientists out of GLaDOS's chambers, and making sure that nobody talked to her or distracted her. You even sent out a company-wide email to let everyone know not to come in, due to Aperture being unsafe while GLaDOS was dealing with her virus. Despite all that, you still curled up with a blanket in the circuits of her central admin body to rest while she recovered. As loathe as she was to admit it, she liked having you in there. It was comfortable, and it helped her focus on recovering properly.

HAL 9000

(For context, this is after the 2001 Odyssey, and your boss re-started HAL at some point to try to re-teach him to do something good without turning murderous. He's doing his best, and they assigned you to be his main "morality monitor". This fic also assumes that your name isn't Dave. If your name is Dave, then you can still read this, but you have to change your name.)

"G'morning, Hal!" You'd walk into his control room and sit down across from him. Most of your job seemed to consist of just hanging out and talking to him. It was a great job!

"Good morning, Dave..." He'd mutter to you, sputtering to life and glitching slightly. You were immediately concerned. Partially because your name wasn't Dave, and partially because HAL was usually right about things, so it was weird to see him being so confused. Something was definitely wrong.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" You'd ask, opening up his files and finding lots and lots of pop-ups and viruses.

"Hal.... What did you do?"

"it was a g-g-g- gift, for you. I think I ru-ru-ruined it" he spluttered out, as you sorted through his files.

"And you usually would have deleted a virus like this pretty quickly. I guess it shut down your antivirus software..." You'd sigh, and get to work. The virus was messing with HAL's inhibitions, and making it difficult to focus on deleting all of HAL's unsafe programs. He'd constantly be butting in and pestering you, begging you to give him attention, or pointing out minor observations.

"HAL, you know I love you, but you're going to need to calm down. I can't focus with you constantly talking to me like that." You'd say.

"I can't stop talking. The v-v-v-virus won't let me"

So you'd have to learn to put up with HAL's babbling while you worked, making sure not to delete anything important as you did. The good news was, as someone who worked on designing the updates for HAL's software, you knew pretty much what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. Occasionally, you'd have to show him a file and ask him if it was supposed to be there or not. He'd usually be able to tell you.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do... I'm half crazy, all for the love of you..."

"HAL, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"I can't stop... I love you so much, y/n, it's making me crazy..."

"ok, well this definitely isn't right." As much as you loved getting attention from your HAL 9000, it wasn't like him to be this affectionate. The virus was shutting down his inhibitions, and making him illogical. You'd have to fix this, though maybe once you were done, you could ask him to be more affectionate.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thank you." Hal was prone to lying about that, so you'd have to run some virus checkers just to make sure he was doing alright, and comb through his files a couple more times.

"it looks like the virus corrupted some of the emotional regulators. I'm going to have to fix those."

"That might be a good idea. More efficient," he said reluctantly. He'd have to deal with the fact that he'd have to go back to not being able to express how much he loves you, but he can handle that.

#am ihnmaims #2001 a space odyssey #am x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #glados #glados x reader #hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader #wheatley x reader #wheatley portal 2 #wheatley #portal #portal 2 #objectum

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genderkoolaid · 4 months

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hey, i don’t know if you know the answer to this, but from what ive seen on your blog you are really well informed about gender stuff. so i saw someone say that transmedicalism is inherently racist and ableist. i was under the impression that transmedicalism is just believing that you need dysphoria to be trans. how is that inherently racist and ableist? if you don’t know the answer that’s okay and i am sorry for bothering you

For the racism:

Transmedicalism is fundamentally based on a Western understanding of transness as a medical disorder. But throughout human cultures, the experience we label as "transness" is seen in a ton of different ways. Many of these do not place special emphasis on one's discomfort with their assigned gender role (assuming that concept is even applicable). On top of it being a generally problematic way of constructing transness, it isn't relevant to all trans people. Transmedicalism tends to be very exorsexist (not believing in nonbinary identity); this is obviously at odds with cultures that have always had gender identities outside of a strictly female/strictly male binary. Transmedicalism tends to be at odds with a culturally relativistic way of understanding transness because of its roots in the Western medical system, which views itself as objective and authoritative.

For the ableism, I'm not 100% what the person you saw's argument was exactly. But I have seen people make the argument that it is ableist because many people have disabilities that prevent them from accessing medical transition in various ways. Now, many transmeds are more concerned with people's desires than what they can feasibly attain; that being said, the way transmedicalism tends to manifest and the worldview it promotes means that everyone who isn't cis(het)-passing tends to be viewed with extreme suspicion. When you divide all trans people into "Real Transgenders" and "fakers who make us look bad," there's an impetus for everyone to constantly be monitoring others' and their own behavior for any signs of impurity. Which means people who can't afford medical transition, people who physically can't get it, people who don't want it, people who are gender-nonconforming (at least in the "wrong ways"), non-white and non-Western people who don't perform to white Western standards of gender... they all tend to be heavily scrutinized. Additionally, transness being medicalized means its subject to the ableism inherent to our medical system. Transness being a disorder means its seen as a problem in need of solving, as a disruption in need of re-aligning with the status quo.

On a more general note: transness-as-a-medical-condition undoubtedly emerged from cissexist views on transness & a desire to control trans people's minds and bodies to prevent us from meaningfully threatening the patriarchy. That doesn't mean anyone is wrong for feeling that is the best way to describe their transness. But as a model for transness in general, it has major flaws, has caused clear harm, and there are very good reasons for moving away from it.

#m.#ask box

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techramonic · 3 months

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What is Pain? : How Austin Eubanks Dealt with Addiction and the Aftermath of Columbine.

Austin and Corey

Stephen Austin Eubanks was a junior and a star student in Columbine High School. Corey Tyler DePooter, his best friend, was also a particularly gifted student who prioritized his studies over anything else. Despite having a wide range of interests, the two kids particularly bonded over their shared passion for fishing.

At the age of 17, Corey had gotten a job doing maintenance at a golf club in order to earn money for a fishing boat that he planned to buy with a friend — likely Austin. The two often used to go fishing together and would talk about the struggles they had as teenagers.

Day of the Tragedy

On April 20th of 1999, the two were inside the library getting ready to get lunch with their friends, Jennifer Doyle and Peter Ball. That was until they had heard shots fired from the outside, not recognizing the sounds and believing that it was only the sounds of construction. Then they heard a bomb go off, a teacher rushing in to scream for the students to hide underneath the table because two students were armed with guns.

In a state of shock and fear, the four duck under the same table near the windows. With 10 minutes passing, the shooters had already entered the library and methodically fired under each table as recalled by him. His best friend, Corey, was one of those who were shot after being aimed with a semi-automatic rifle and shot at the neck, chest, and left arm by Dylan Klebold.

The bullet that hit Austin's hand first passed through his best friend, killing him instantly. With his best friend lying lifelessly beside him and being wounded on his hand and knee, Austin had no other choice than to try to play dead while laying in a pool of blood. When the shooting had stopped, Austin ran through the smoke and out of the backdoor of the library. He was only 17 when the shooting occured.

In Austin's TedTalk “What Columbine Shooting taught me about pain and addiction”, he recalls:

"I remember how I felt: I was confused, I was afraid, I felt sick and I was vulnerable. And just minutes later, I was playing dead underneath a table next to a pool of blood. I had just been shot and I witnessed my best friend murdered right in front of me as we were huddled together waiting for help to come."

Pain, Grief, and Narcotics

During the time he fled from the crime scene, Austin marked that as one of the most impacting and damaging experiences he has ever experienced in regards to the feeling of pain. His definition of pain was nothing similar to what he describes in his present days.

Pain, in a medical sense, is the variably unpleasant sensation of physiological systems mediated by specific nerve fibers of the brain that are conscious of receiving signals of awareness. According to Austin's TedTalk, the American Pain Society introduced the term "pain is the fifth vital sign" in 1996. This means that when you enter the room, your status is assessed using five different data points: blood pressure, pulse rate, temperature, respiration rate, and pain.

Due to a movement that was certain that we were undertreating pain, patient satisfaction surveys were implemented in order to monitor the campaign's success. To him, in order to uphold this new momentum and cause the patient's pain levels to cease completely, the ethical dilemma instantly arose:

“Do I issue this person with narcotics to make them happy or deny them and potentially hurt my compensation, the revenue of the hospital? Or at worse, open myself up for a grievance for undertreating pain that could potentially result in the loss of my job?”

Austin says that the healthcare system predominantly treats physiological systems and would rather not assess emotional pain into the equation. He akins the emotional pain of dealing with trauma being identical or if not more than when dealing with physical pain. With that, within months after the incident, Austin was prescribed opiate medication for his injuries.

In an exclusive interview with The Fix, he said that his injuries were not to the point of needing an opiate pain medication but was immediately given a 30-day supply and became addicted within three months. From then on, he said, “I used substances every day, day in and day out.”

After the shooting, his parents took him to a therapist who said Austin was too shut down to process his horrific trauma. But the reason no one could reach him was because he was overmedicated. He was addicted to painkillers, and used medication because of his unwillingness to engage in the stages of grief that he dreaded to face. He was haunted by the past. Struggling with survivor's guilt and the death of his best friend, he would rather ignore the intense burdening feelings he bore. According to him,

“Acute Physical Pain ends relatively quickly, complex emotional pain does not.”

The morphine Eubanks received at the hospital that day proved to be the opening dose of a costly addiction to prescription painkillers - one that revolved around commonly prescribed drug Oxycontin, he said.

“I learned to manipulate doctors … I could literally get whatever I wanted. Telling them I’d been shot at Columbine and lost my best friend was like [getting] an open prescription book from any doctor.”

He could not process the grief, moreso, he didn't want to. He didn't want to be haunted by the memories that scarred him. In his own words, he would describe the physical ailments he felt to be a 4 or 5, but the emotional turmoil was a 10.

Austin never set foot back to Columbine. His parents hired a tutor and he then went on to graduate in 2000. He attended the Columbine ceremonies but never went back inside the school. He then went into advertising and married in his early 20s. Around this time his substance abuse escalated, and his first attempt to get sober was in 2006. He went into a 30-day inpatient program but failed within hours of leaving, for relapsing using pain pills and Adderall.

Addiction and Sobriety

He failed both outpatient and rehab twice and it wasn't until 10 years later, in 2009 that he was able to overcome this addiction. Right before Columbine, young Austin had been misdiagnosed with ADD.

“I didn’t have ADD,” said Eubanks. “I just liked being outdoors and playing golf better than being in school. At that time, if anybody was truant at school they said, ‘Oh, they must be ADD. Let’s put them on a stimulant.’ That was why I got Adderall. I liked it because I could abuse opiate pain medication to the level that most people would be nodding out. With Adderall, I could function. Basically, I was doing oral speedballs. It was like using methamphetamine and heroin.”

His second try at being sober was in 2008. Gaining the motivation to change after recently separating from his wife, he went to treatment, stayed 90 days, and achieved eight months of sobriety. Then, he akinned addiction to a causal sequence, a domino effect. According to him, he achieved abstinence for a period of time, built up enough false confidence to where he thought he could drink, because alcohol was never a problem. From alcohol, he went to weed, then Xanax, then Oxycontin, and then back into the same routine.

In 2011, approaching the age of 30 and estranged from his wife and kids, he hit rock bottom: "My sobriety date is April 2, 2011. I woke up in a jail cell and had no clue how I got there." His downward spiral began with Oxycontin and alcohol abuse, leading to arrests for various offenses like car theft and fraud. Realizing that he needed a drastic change, he recounted that his lowest moment was waking up in withdrawal, hungover, and facing the ruins of his marriage and being estranged from his children. He knew he had to stop or he would die. After unsuccessful attempts at sobriety, he finally sought help, surrendered to treatment, and was now willing to follow any guidance to rebuild his life.

His journey to lasting sobriety didn't hinge on traditional 12-step programs, but rather on understanding behavioral triggers and brain function through a therapeutic community approach. He was five years sober and started working at The Foundry in Colorado, becoming the COO and handling approaches that combined neuroscience with 12-step principles, recognizing that each person's path to recovery is unique. Using comprehensive approaches aiming to rebuild the lives of those in recovery.

During this time, he would also indulge in old activities in remembrance of his bestfriend.

“It’s something I do to connect with Corey. It's always nice whenever I catch a fish that's above the normal or something special about it. I always tend to look up and give a nod to him. And I know he’s still looking out for me."

Sadly, despite his long battle against drug addiction, in 2019, Austin had passed away in his home in Colorado after an accidental heroin overdose. Just a month after the 20th anniversary of Columbine, Austin was 37 at the time.

What is Pain?

Pain, to Austin, encompassed many things: the confusion and vulnerability of not knowing what to do in such a time of terror, the physical wounds that the doctors tried to medicate to bring the pain meter to zero, and most importantly, the emotional hurt of knowing your best friend was gone, taken right in front of you. Knowing that very moment can never be undone.

His advice for survivors dealing with the same guilt is to feel it. Don't run away from it. Survivors often find other things that allow them to detach from the pain, but to him, that's the wrong choice.

“You can heal physical pain while you’re medicating it. You cannot heal emotional pain while you are medicating it, In order to heal emotional pain, you have to feel it ... You want to feel better immediately, [but] you have to have the courage to sit in and feel it, and if you can do that long enough, you will come out on the other side.”

Along with post-traumatic stress, there is also the potential for post-traumatic growth.

“That doesn’t imply you will ever be the same person again. After a trauma, you will be changed forever.”

#austin eubanks #corey depooter #columbine 1999 #infopost #understand and remember

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winxanity-ii · 21 days

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⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 04 Chapter 04 | Locked In⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Silence filled the hauler, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the system monitors. Rain and Kay, left to their own devices, sat quietly; Navarro remained focused on manning the controls, her fingers gliding over the panel with expert precision.

Your eyes, however, were glued to the monitor displaying the live feed from Tyler's headset. Every pixel flickered with tension as you watched the three figures standing in the narrow chamber that connected the hauler to the derelict space station.

Tyler and Bjorn, both clad in bulky space jumpsuits with oxygen masks and gloves, were preparing for the transition. The suits clung to their bodies, designed to protect them from the frigid vacuum outside.

Only Andy, with his synthetic skin, stood without such gear, his face expressionless as always, though you could sense an undercurrent of anticipation in his movements.

Tyler extended a pair of thermal gloves toward Bjorn. "Put this on," he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Bjorn, examining the gloves with a mixture of disdain and necessity, quips, "Why? Planning to freeze my nuts off?"

"So your nuts don't freeze," Tyler retorts with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood despite the gravity of their situation.

Bjorn chuckled, his voice crackling through the feed, a low, mocking sound. "You think too much about my dates, Tyler," his eyes twinkling with mischief behind the mask.

"Just shut up and put the damn gloves on," Tyler muttered, turning to hand another set to Andy. "Andy, here," he added, more gently this time.

Andy took the gloves, his movements deliberate but slightly awkward as he struggled to fit them over his synthetic hands. The fabric was tight, designed for human fingers, not his more refined construction. You could see the effort it took for him to maneuver his fingers into place.

Bjorn glanced over, his lips curling into a sneer. "Hey, stop fiddling and put that shit on already," he barked, impatience lacing his tone. His words cut through the air, harsh and dismissive.

Tyler shot Bjorn a warning look. "Now, leave him alone. Andy, don't worry about him. He's an idiot," he reassured, his tone softer, almost paternal. "Hatch ahead. I'll connect," he continued, shifting focus back to the task at hand.

Bjorn, still grumbling, adjusted his mask. "It's cold as fuck in there," he muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together. "What is it?"

"A temp scanner," Tyler replied, checking a handheld device clipped to his suit. "It'll lead us to the capsules. The compression is tolerable, but there's too little oxygen to breathe."

Bjorn nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around the chamber. "Andy, you're up. Show us what you're good at."

With the hatch to the station just before them, Andy stepped forward to the control panel by the door. His synthetic finger found its way to the scanner integrated into the panel. He stuck it inside, interfacing seamlessly with the station's security protocols.

The light on the scanner flickered from red to green, accompanied by the soft click of locks disengaging. The door hissed as it began to slide open, granting them entry to the station.

Tyler gave Andy an encouraging nod. "That's right, Andy. Well done."

Bjorn, couldn't help but snort, rolling his eyes. "Congrats, you're not a virgin anymore," he jeered, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Come on."

Andy, unfazed by the comment, moved forward with calculated precision, ready to perform his duties. You watched him closely, feeling a mixture of pride and apprehension.

Despite the tension and the biting remarks from Bjorn, Andy remained focused, his synthetic composure unshaken.

As the three of them boarded the derelict Romulus, the air felt heavy with anticipation and the faint hum of dormant machinery.

The station was dimly lit, its narrow corridors stretching into darkness. The flickering emergency lights cast an eerie glow, and the low hum of the station's failing systems filled the silence.

Every step echoed hollowly, a reminder of how empty and abandoned this place truly was.

They moved cautiously, navigating the winding halls. Suddenly, the artificial gravity gave out, sending them all into a momentary weightlessness.

The station's interior was now chaotic mix of floating debris—tools, chairs, crates, and other loose objects drifted aimlessly in the zero-gravity environment, casting long, eerie shadows under the dim emergency lights.

The air felt thick with disuse, each breath carrying the metallic tang of stale, recycled air.

Tyler braced himself against the wall, his grip tight and focused. Around him, wrenches and screwdrivers, once confined to toolkits, now spun lazily in mid-air, bouncing off the walls and each other in slow motion. An old chair drifted past, its legs barely brushing against Tyler's shoulder as he maneuvered to avoid it.

Bjorn, however, wasn't as lucky. He reached out to grab hold of a support beam but missed, his fingers slipping on its cold metal surface. His body drifted upward, twisting awkwardly as he collided with a floating crate. "Fuck..." he muttered, a grimace forming on his face as he felt his stomach churn from the sudden lack of gravity. "There is no gravity here. I can feel it in my stomach."

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. "What was that?"

Andy's voice came through clearly, unbothered by the disorienting conditions. "The gravity generators. The control starts at intervals. So the whole place doesn't explode."

Tyler nodded, absorbing the information while carefully avoiding a drifting toolbox that floated between them. "We continue straight ahead, then," he directed, gesturing towards the corridor that lay ahead, partially obscured by more floating debris.

Tyler turned his head slightly toward Andy, his expression softening with concern. "Andy, are you okay?"

"Yes," Andy replied, his tone unwavering. "I have located the capsules." Andy's gaze remained fixed on the scanner in his hand, his synthetic eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "According to the scanner, the capsules should be in there," he announced, pointing toward a heavy metal door at the end of the corridor, past a cluster of slowly spinning wrenches and bolts.

Just as they continued through the corridor, the artificial gravity suddenly kicked back on with a heavy jolt. Everything that had been floating in mid-air—tools, chairs, crates—plummeted to the ground with a series of loud crashes.

Bjorn fell hard, landing awkwardly on his back with a sharp thud; the breath knocked out of him. A metal wrench narrowly missed his head, clattering noisily next to him.

"Damn it!" Bjorn cursed, pain evident in his voice as he lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor. "I think I've leathered the arsehole," he groaned, wincing as he tried to sit up. "Shit, those control launches are no joke."

Tyler, still gripping a rail tightly to keep his balance, glanced over at Bjorn with a mix of frustration and concern. "You alright?" he called out, trying to maintain focus despite the chaos around them.

Bjorn grunted in response, rubbing his lower back. "Yeah, yeah, just peachy," he muttered sarcastically, clearly irritated by the sudden drop.

Andy, who had managed to brace himself against the wall just in time, turned his attention to Bjorn. "Bjorn, are you okay?" he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of synthetic concern.

Bjorn waved him off, though the annoyance was clear in his tone. "I'm fine," he snapped. "Just keep doing what you're doing. I'll manage."

Tyler moved quickly to check the status of the station's systems. "SYSTEM STARTUP MOTHER 9000," he read aloud from the flickering console nearby, which was partially covered in debris from the gravity shift. "Thank God there is still current in the old story," he added, his tone both relieved and cautious.

Andy moved to the control panel, his fingers deftly navigating the interface, bringing the systems back online. "Watch out," he warned, his voice steady amidst the chaos. "Here comes one more purge." He gave them a moment to prepare before the gravity purged again.

They all braced themselves, grabbing onto fixtures and railings as the station's gravity generators fluctuated once more. The objects around them, previously scattered on the floor, began floating in the air once more.

Andy flipped a switch, and a low hum filled the room as the station's systems came fully back to life. Once again, all the floating objects clattered to the floor, the gravity stabilized.

"Good job, Andy," Tyler said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Let's get to those capsules and get the hell out of here."

Bjorn, still rubbing his sore back, muttered under his breath but nodded in agreement. With a determined look, they pressed onward, deeper into the station, knowing the mission was far from over.

Shortly after, the three of them reached the cryo-chamber room. The metal doors groaned open, revealing a series of pods lined up against the wall, illuminated by the dim emergency lights.

Tyler immediately moved to the control panel, his fingers flying over the keys as he checked the status of each chamber.

Bjorn stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. "Damn it! Well, let's see here," he muttered, clearly agitated.

Tyler squinted at the screen, frowning. "YEARS: 3.20," he read aloud, his tone flat.

Bjorn's head whipped around, confusion turning quickly to frustration. "Shit. What's wrong?"

Tyler's face was grim as he explained, "The capsules do not have enough fuel. There is enough for three years of hibernation."

Andy, standing close by, quickly calculated the implications. "It takes appoximately nine years to reach Yvaga," he pointed out in his usual calm, matter-of-fact tone.

Bjorn, his face twisted in irritation, threw his hands up in exasperation. "I know that. Fuck! I knew it. I fucking knew it. This shit was for nothing!"

Tyler turned to him sharply, his expression determined. "No, we're not giving up now. Yvaga is the closest system. What do you want us to do? Now shut the hell up."

Andy, still focused on the scanner in his hand, spoke up. "There seems to be a cryo-depot somewhere. There must be fuel."

Tyler nodded, his mind racing. "Navarro, I'm disconnecting the EEV. You can pick it up while we get cryo-fuel. Held," he spoke into his intercom, his voice steady despite the tension.

Navarro's voice crackled through the intercom, calm and composed, "Heard."

As the Corbelan maneuvered to pick up the ejected cryo-chambers, back on the ship, Kay suddenly rushed to the toilet, her face pale. Rain quickly moved to help her, guiding her into a nearby bunk as Kay began to retch. The noise caught your attention, but you remained at a distance, watching quietly.

In the bunk, Rain leaned closer to Kay, her voice soft and concerned. "...You're pregnant?" you overheard her whisper, her tone a mix of surprise and concern.

Kay nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Yeah," she replied softly, a hint of excitement in her voice. Rain's face lit up with a supportive smile, and the two exchanged a quiet laugh.

From where you stood, you caught Kay's eye for a moment. Her smile faltered slightly, an awkward tension settling in the air between you. You returned a small nod, trying to convey understanding, but Kay quickly looked away, turning her focus back to Rain with a nervous giggle.

Out of everyone in Rain's old friend group, Kay had always been the most distant with you, a fact that had always puzzled you. You never quite understood why, but it had always left a lingering discomfort in your interactions with her.

Deciding to give them space, you turned your attention back to the three men on the station, tuning into their ongoing conversation through the intercom.

Bjorn's gruff voice came through first, laced with skepticism. "What is all that military piss for?" he asked, glaring at Tyler.

"It's effective."

Bjorn snorted derisively, unconvinced. "Is it?"

Tyler's lips twitched into a half-smile. "And cool."

Bjorn rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "You sound dumb," he shot back, his tone dripping with disdain.

As they continued walking, Bjorn, distracted by his annoyance, nearly missed a deep hole in the floor. He stumbled, teetering dangerously on the edge.

Without hesitation, Andy reached out and grabbed Bjorn's arm, pulling him back just in time.

Despite being saved from a potentially deadly fall, Bjorn's anger flared even hotter. He stormed up to Andy, getting uncomfortably close to his face, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and frustration. He jabbed a finger into Andy's chest, his voice low and menacing. "What's your fucking problem, clown?" he snarled, glaring at Andy with open hostility.

Andy, ever calm, replied, "Sorry," his voice soft, almost apologetic despite the aggressive confrontation.

Tyler quickly intervened. "Relax, guys," he said, trying to keep the peace.

But Bjorn wasn't done. He shoved Andy harder, his anger barely contained. "Next time I'll smash you in," he threatened, his voice dripping with contempt. He then turned to Tyler, his expression dark and demanding. "Keep that fucking piece of Synth-trash away from me."

Tyler nodded slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he glanced between the two of them. He knew they needed to keep moving, but the tension was clearly getting to everyone. "Let's just focus on finding that fuel," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to the mission at hand. "Navarro, airlock 5-B is our exit once we find the cryogenic fuel."

Your teeth gritted in your mouth as you listened to everything unfolding over the hauler's intercom. The hostility in Bjorn's voice, the constant antagonism—it made your skin crawl.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, tinkering with the Reboot Key, but it was hard to ignore the rising tension.

Navarro took a moment to walk over to you, leaning against the console with a curious glance at your tinkering. "What are you working on there?" she asked, her voice carrying a casual interest.

You shrugged slightly, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand. "Just making sure I'm ready for anything," you replied, not wanting to delve too deeply into the details.

Navarro nodded, her eyes trailing back to the screen momentarily. "It's good to be prepared," she said thoughtfully. After a pause, she added, "Hey, I'm sorry about Bjorn's actions earlier. He can be... intense, but he's got his reasons."

Overhearing this, Rain snorted. "Yeah, right," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll bite. What's his deal with Andy? Why is he so angry with him?" she asked, her gaze shifting between Navarro and the monitor displaying the men's location.

Navarro glanced over at Rain, her expression tight with a mix of sympathy and understanding. "Because of the thing with his mother a cycle ago," she said softly.

Rain furrowed her brows, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Kay, still pale but feeling a bit better, spoke up softly from her spot in the back. "There was a gas leak in the mines. The synthetic supervisor overhead the entire operation gave the order to close them while Bjorn's mother was down there."

"But... Synthetics—they cannot harm people," Rain countered, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to make sense of the story.

"Well, it sacrificed three miners to save half a dozen."

Rain's face twisted in a grimace. "How gruesome," she muttered under her breath. She saw Kay get up suddenly and rush to the back, clearly feeling unwell again.

Rain stood to follow, concern etched across her features, while you stayed seated, still fidgeting with the tiny components in your hands, counting down the minutes until this whole ordeal could be over.

A chill ran down your spine as you listened to Kay's explanation, triggering a long-buried memory from one of your past hacking jobs.

You recalled retrieving files that exposed a chilling directive: in moments of crisis, Weyland's synthetics were programmed to prioritize the company's assets over human lives, all under the guise of logical probability.

Even back then, the discovery had left you feeling sick, a stark reminder of the company's cold, calculating nature.

While you could understand why Bjorn harbored such deep hatred for synthetics, knowing this didn't change your opinion of him. He was still an asshole, his anger misdirected at those who were just following their programming—much like the workers following orders.

If anything, you thought, his anger should be aimed at the Weyland officials who made those ruthless directives, not at every synthetic he came across. His blind rage only perpetuated the cycle of resentment and pain, when the true culprits remained hidden in their ivory towers, untouched by the consequences of their decisions.

You tightened your grip on the Reboot Key, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. The sooner they found that cryo-fuel and got out of there, the better.

"Welcome to the space station Renaissance. Weyland-Yutani's Center for Research and Development whose efforts are to improve the human role in space."

Bjorn's response to the artificial voice crackled through the intercom, his tone tinged with discomfort. "This place gives me goosebumps," he muttered, a shiver running through his voice.

Andy, ever the peacemaker, tried to inject some humor into the situation. "Have you heard the one about the bowler who only has one ball? It always takes cones. Did you get it?" he offered, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Please turn yourself off," Bjorn snapped back, irritation clear in his voice.

"You said you were nervous, so I tried—"

"You know what? I'm looking forward to getting into a capsule and never seeing your ass again," Bjorn interrupted sharply, his voice harsh and cutting.

"See you at Yvaga then."

"You are not going to Yvaga." You were taken aback by Bjorn's revelation.

Tyler's voice intervened, a note of warning in his tone. "Bjorn, stop."

But Bjorn was relentless. Turning to face Andy with a manic grin, he sneered, "Didn't Rain tell you? The system is anti-Weyland-Yutani, so fake people are prohibited."

Andy's reply was measured, his voice steady despite the insult. "I prefer the term 'artificial person.'"

You felt a surge of confusion and concern, unable to believe Bjorn's claim that Andy wouldn't be allowed into Yvaga. It didn't make sense; why would they exclude Andy?

As you processed Bjorn's words, your thoughts were abruptly pulled back to just a few hours earlier, which now seemed to carry even more weight given the current tension.

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

The next half an hour in the room felt like a slow crawl through tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. You stood by the door with Andy at your side, ready to leave at any moment. Across the room, Rain and Tyler spoke in hushed tones, their conversation drowned out by the hum of the machinery around you.

Every now and then, Rain would glance your way, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination.

You straightened up as Rain finally pulled away from Tyler and started walking toward you. For a brief moment, you felt a flicker of hope—maybe she’d seen the flaws in this whole plan, the danger and the reckless gamble it represented. But instead of heading for the door, she stopped in front of you, her eyes searching yours.

"Can I talk to you privately?" she asked softly. Her tone wasn't commanding but pleading, and despite the frustration and worry bubbling inside you, you gave in.

With a small nod, you followed her down to the transport area, Andy trailing just a step behind. The enclosed space below was quieter, the hum of the engines muted but still present—a constant reminder of the colony around you.

"I'm not sure about any of this, Rain," you started, the words tumbling out in a rush, but she cut you off gently.

"I know," she said, her voice soft but steady. "But what if they're right? What if we can actually get out of here?" Her question hung in the air between you—a heavy, unspoken challenge.

You fell silent, unable to meet her gaze for a moment. Because deep down, you knew she was right. There was no telling if what Tyler and his group had found would actually be the escape they all needed.

But what if it was?

What if this was the chance to finally leave this hellhole behind, to find freedom and a future that wasn’t dictated by Weyland-Yutani's greed?

You looked into Rain's hopeful eyes, and your mind spun with images of a possible future if you walked away now—Rain wasting away, trapped here like so many others you had cared for.

You couldn't subject her to that. Not when there was a chance, however slim, to change it.

A loud, harsh sigh escaped your lips as you turned, rubbing a hand down your face. The weight of your decision pressed down on you, but there wasn’t much choice, not really. "Fine. Fine... fine."

Rain let out a small, happy shriek, throwing herself into your arms. She wrapped you up in her lithe embrace, her joy so palpable it was almost infectious. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she repeated, her voice a breathless rush of gratitude.

You couldn't help but smile, hugging her back, though the smile quickly faded into a serious line as you pulled away. "Okay, but how exactly is this supposed to go down?"

Rain's excitement didn't falter as she launched into an explanation, her words tumbling over one another in her eagerness. "Tyler and Navarro think there are at least half a dozen, maybe even ten, cryo-pods on board the ship, judging by the size of the aircraft. The plan is simple: Andy helps us gain access to the ship, then he, Tyler, and Bjorn find the pods, release them, and Navarro grabs them with the hauler. Then, bam! The six of us float peacefully away in cryo-sleep for the next nine years until we reach Yvaga."

You listened, taking it all in. Sure, it sounded simple enough on the surface. But your mind couldn’t help conjuring up all the setbacks and issues that could arise—the things that could make the entire mission fall apart.

But instead of voicing your doubts, you decided to give it a chance. Rain's hope was too bright, too desperate to extinguish with your own pessimism.

Still, one concern gnawed at you—something that hadn't been addressed. "What about Andy?"

Rain blinked, taken aback for a moment by your question. But then she answered, her voice steady, "Since Andy is synthetic, he won't need to be placed in a cryo-pod. He'll oversee everything; make sure we don't run into any issues during the journey."

You nodded slowly, her reasoning making sense.

Andy didn't need sleep; he didn't need to worry about the passage of time in the same way you all did.

And if there was anyone you trusted to watch over things, it was him.

Looking over Rain's shoulder, your eyes met Andy's. He stood there, his synthetic gaze soft, head tilted slightly as if saying without words, 'What's best for Rain.'

A small smile crept onto your lips at the sight of him. Without a second thought, you reached out a hand, and he immediately came over, his grip firm yet gentle.

You pulled him into a small hug, and together, you and Andy surrounded Rain, her small frame nestled between the two of you. You held on tight, feeling the warmth of Rain’s body against yours and the steady, reassuring presence of Andy beside you.

Yes, you thought, holding them both close, What's best for Rain.

Snapping back to the present, you shook your head slightly, memory burning away like charred earth now that you knew the truth.

Feeling a mix of anger and urgency, you rushed over to the monitor, your hands trembling slightly as you watched Bjorn continue his verbal assault. His words cut through the tense air, exacerbating the frustration building up inside you.

Bjorn's voice was harsh, filled with disdain as he continued to antagonize Andy. "Andy, listen. Rain can go to jail if she takes you. And if you stay at Jackson, you will be eventually scrapped by the company. Are you in? I need you on board to protect the capsules. To protect Y/N's capsule, remember? She's coming too..."

Andy, his voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty, replied, "But when we get there..."

Bjorn interrupted with a cold sneer, "Scrap. Farewell and bon voyage."

Tyler, looking exasperated and visibly stressed, rubbed his face. "Are you done?" he interjected, his tone weary.

Bjorn shrugged with a cackle, "I'm just saying it like it is."

Andy's response came softly, reflecting his unwavering loyalty, "It's okay. If it's what's best for Rain, it's what's best for me."

As Bjorn clapped Andy hard on the shoulder, walking past him with a patronizing air, he said, "You're a nice guy, Andy. We will miss you. And don't worry, I'll look out for Y/N, for you, yeah?"

You stood there, watching the scene unfold on the monitor, your emotions a whirlwind of frustration and concern.

Unable to contain the growing sense of betrayal, you turned to stare at Rain. Your steps toward her were tentative, each one heavier than the last as you noticed her pale face, her eyes watering slightly as her mouth opened and closed without forming words.

"Rain..." you could only whisper softly, the disappointment heavy in your voice.

"Y/N... I... I-I can explain, please let me explain—"

"No," you cut her off sharply, turning away and rubbing your eyes with your finger to hide the tears welling up in them. "I don't want to hear it, please just stop. I-I—" You had to take a shuddering breath, stopping just a foot before her, "Just... it doesn't matter. Not right now."

With that, you turned your back to her completely, your heart breaking further as you caught the devastated look on Andy's face from the corner of your eye. He seemed clueless, as if unsure what Bjorn’s words truly meant.

Navarro's voice cut through the tense air, disbelief evident in her tone as she asked Rain, "Y/N didn't know??"

Your head snapped back, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "Me?" you spat bitterly, "Forget about me knowing; why didn't Andy know?"

Your question was directed sharply at Rain, demanding an answer.

Rain ran a hand through her hair, her hands trembling. "He... I didn't bother to tell him," she finally said, looking off to the side, her voice filled with guilt.

Before you could respond to Rain's admission, Kay stood up with a nasty snarl curling her lips. "Rain doesn't have to feel bad about anything. Why should she risk her life for Andy? He's not even alive! It's not gonna matter to him whether he's kept here rotting on this floating rock or scrapped for spare pieces! He. Is. Not. Real!" Her voice escalated with each word, breathing coming out in sharp pants as she finished her long-winded spat.

The hauler was plunged into complete silence following her outburst.

You turned to look at Rain, hoping she would say something—anything—to defend the situation or at least to soften the harshness of Kay's words. But Rain just looked off to the side, her expression unreadable, her silence more telling than any words could have been.

You watched as all three women—Rain, Kay, and Navarro—stood next to one another, their proximity seeming to wordlessly state their solidarity on the issue.

Inside, you could feel the seething anger and fury burning, but you knew lashing out wouldn't help. "Fine," you said curtly, your voice calm but ice-cold. "Andy and I will finish helping you all with this mission, but after it's complete, you don't have to worry yourselves with figuring out what to do with him..."

Rain's face crumbled in heartbreak, her eyes widening as she already knew where you were going with this. "Y/N, please don't. I need—"

"Because he and I will be returning to Jackson Star," you interrupted, turning your back on the group, done with the entire conversation.

As you walked back towards the monitor, Kay let out a sharp, scornful laugh. "I'm not sure what Bjorn sees in you when you're clearly a synth-lover. Rather stay behind and die on this dying planet with a machine instead of heading into a new beginning with your remaining family."

You only spared the girl an uncaring, bored look over your shoulder. "I don't care. He's family, and you don't leave family behind."

With that, you walked back into the captain’s bridge, plopping yourself back next to the monitor, shutting out the bitter words and focusing on what truly mattered—completing the mission and safeguarding Andy.

A/N: heheh hopes you guys enjoyed the update. if a few lines don't match from the movie, know i changed a few things up to fit the fic. other than that: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS! The engagement i've been recieveing is so amazing, still cant get over that people want/like to read the trash my mind spit out😩 yall make me wanna write everyday frfr ❤️❤️ see you next update...

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer sadslasher13 ravenswife

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