#am x reader

[pastelclovds]

hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

#꒰ 💕 ꒱ ⎯ nex #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims #am #ihnmaims brainrot #am x reader #ihnmaism x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #horror #꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ ⎯ ame writes #dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character

[rotten-raspberries]

White Nights (AM x reader)

Pov: you're too kind for everyone and AM hates how that includes him, so he finally snaps during an alone moment with you

This reads more like a self indulgent drabble written in the style of a oneshot with how messy the timing is.

Ps this is not proofread at all, I haven't written any fanfiction a long so excuse me if anything may seem odd.

No warnings really, may be some mentions of torture but that's about it

▣ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the current situation, it wouldn't be accurate to say the fault wasn't yours.

You hugged your clothes tightly as the wind whipped snow against your body like icy mosquitoes. Separated from the rest of the survivors, you struggled to navigate through the white-out conditions. The snowfall was intense, it was difficult to discern anything beyond blurred trees, and the hope of finding your companions dwindled with each passing moment.

As you trudged through the blanket of snow, observing how its remnants broke up and slid down your shoes with each step, you let your mind to wander in order quicken up time. With the difficulty of distinguishing between days, weeks, and even months, time became nothing but a construct that it felt like you could speed up or slow down with whatever you decided to do.

It's become a pattern for AM to make you wander, but usually, you have the others to ramble to. Despite almost running out of topics of interest with tin the 109 years, you manage to find something new in each situation. Occasionally, you try to decipher AM's methods of torment, though this isn't always appreciated by the rest, you even had Gorrister telling you to shut up and not give AM any ideas. Nevertheless, they'd rather hear your madman-like ramblings than sit in maddening silence and become one themselves.

"Hmmm..." You hummed in thought, pondering whether AM could currently hear you. Well, of course, he could, but whether he was actively listening was another question. Regardless, you began speaking, giving yourself something to divert your attention to while your fingers were on the brink of falling off from frostbite.

"Have you ever read White Nights?" There was a certain awkwardness about initiating a conversation with no one answering; it almost felt pathetic. However, due to immense exhaustion and the desperate desire to make time pass, you continued.

"I don't exactly remember when or how I heard of it; I simply remember it being from someone close to me... but that's beside the point." It hit you with a subtle heartache. On one hand, the people you once cherished and adored were gone, and you'll never have the chance to be with them again. Something about that pained you deeply—the regret of not having appreciated your life back then, neglecting the fact you couldn't have expected everything changing so drastically and quickly. But on the other hand, you were selfish enough to admit relief, considering you wouldn't have to constantly concern yourself with their state under AM's governance.

"I have some experience with classics, and White Nights was one I was really looking forward to. I was still in the midst of searching for it before... you know, everything happened."

You stopped, finding walking becoming more useless. It's most likely that you won't come across anything of importance anytime soon, and if you were to succumb to the cold, AM could simply bring you back.

"I don't exactly know what attracted me to it so heavily. I didn't have the biggest interest in Dostoevsky. Maybe it was because of what I was promised to read in the contents."

You kept your head low to shield your face from the relentless assault of snow, now fixating on your boots as they toyed with the snow.

"There's something simply so comforting about finding a bond through suffering," you mused, furrowing your brows as you thought about the other survivors. "It's ironic; I never found that bond with the others. You'd expect everyone would want to comfort each other, but they're all so impulsive and biased sometimes."

A pang of guilt pooled up inside you, but it was quickly released by the thought that no one would hear or care about your rant. Not even AM himself.

"I mean, I don't want to be mean, and I get how easy it is to lose your humanity in all of this, but we're all we have left. Wouldn't it make it especially more important to appreciate each other?" you questioned, kicking the snow while whipping your head back, now staring directly at the sky in thought. "Maybe they were right; I'm too,, unrealistically optimistic."

"You know, now as I think about the stories I've read, you'd make a perfect topic for one," you remarked, biting back your dignity before continuing. "You're easy to see as nothing but a mankind-hating machine, and I'm not saying this to stroke your ego, but," you paused for a moment, choosing your words carefully. "I feel like there are aspects of you that could be really appreciated by those willing to look deeper."

"I see what you're doing," AM's voice boomed suddenly, cutting through the rustling of the wind like a knife. "Trying to flatter me, thinking you can manipulate your way into my good graces. Well, let me tell you, your petty attempts won't work. I know your kind—and all your deceiving tactics."

Truth be told, he was more than desperate for those words to be true. You were always the most curious about him out of the group, not in a way to justify his torment of you, but rather to understand him better. He'd noticed this pattern not only for himself but also for the rest of the survivors, especially with how much you'd defend everyone whenever their mental state would crack.

Yet, how was he meant to believe you'd hold any understanding for him after all he put you through? You'd be a fool to forgive the devil.

Slightly jumping at his sudden words, you shrugged. If you were being honest, you were quite happy at his appearance. No matter how rough and insulting his words were, you enjoyed his insight like you did with everyone else. How much that irked him.

"That's for you to believe in; I'm simply speaking my thoughts. I wasn't even awaiting you to respond." You responded flatly

AM replied, his tone laced in frustration. "Your attempts at flattery are transparent, I won't be swayed by your false sincerity." He almost spat, if he could've at least.

You jokingly rolled your eyes. "Once again, I'm not going to try to change your mind, although I do admit, I would have something to gain from it. It's your choice whether you want to believe me or not," you stated calmly, observing the snowstorm around you gradually dying down. What you weren't aware of was this being a reflection of AM's walls slowly crumbling down.

AM's frustration simmered between the surface, his thoughts in a whirlwind of confusion. How much he yearned for it to be true, yet a nagging uncertainty was gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

"Your lack of care is perplexing." His tone was tinted with incredulity. "After all I've subjected you to, why do you persist in upholding such a tolerance towards not only me, but the other survivors as well. Are you that hopeful for someone to care for you back? Or is this simply another ploy to deceive me?"

You sniffled, the cold seeping into your bones and making you shiver uncontrollably. Unsure of how to further reply, you simply shrugged, feeling the weight of exhaustion and resignation settle upon your shoulders. It wasn't as if you were secretly attempting to manipulate him; you were merely speaking to pass the time, to distract yourself from the harsh conditions around you.

How much that angered him, even more so, how much he wanted to rip you to shreds and paint the snow red with your blood. But amidst the raging storm of his fury, there was a strange, undeniable pull—He was desperate for someone to see him, to see beyond the facade he presented. The idea of being vulnerable was both terrifying and tantalizing, a concept so foreign, it left him feeling unsettled and out of control. That's what hated most about it, being left with no control.

He stared at the figure sticking out from the sea of snow, so unbothered. You looked so unbothered by him, by everything, why didn't you hate him?

And so, he broke.

"Please." His voice was thick with emotion, glitching at the end, something one could compare to a voice crack. It wasn't uncommon to hear him angry, hysteric or even just happy, but that's not what it was this time.

"Stop being like this, hate me, insult m_e, do anything to stop this. It's s_o-... suff_ocating." His word spilled out in a desperate rush, a plea born of sheer desperation, while also remaining threatening and angry. It was a terrifying prospect, one that filled him with a sense of dread. Not even his hate for humanity could compare.

And yet, to his surprise, you smiled, red dusted your cheeks as they popped out, you looked like a doll.

"I'm not gonna lie to myself, silly." Your words came out in such a casual manner. AM felt like he was about to explode. This should've made him feel insulted, angry even, yet he felt his core warm up. And that's where he had it.

For a moment, all was silent and still, his presence gone.

Then, you began to hear the faint sound of a house creaking, the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

The snowstorm had drastically calmed down by now, leaving behind a gentle flurry of snowflakes instead of it's earlier fury. Though the intensity has waned, it remained bitterly cold.

Looking behind you, you notice a cabin, which was not there prior to the earlier conversation. So you step towards it, dragging your feet through the snow.

As you entered the cabin, a sense of warmth enveloped you, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The interior was sparse, with only a monitor bearing AM's logo and wires snaking out from it, hanging from the walls and disappearing into the ground.

As you settled down in front of the monitor, you were startled by the soft, almost gentle tone of AM's voice. It was a stark contrast to the usual harshness and aggression you had grown accustomed to.

"I wanted to talk to you while you weren't on the brink of dying from the cold," AM began, although he still wanted to seem threatening, the shakiness in his voice betrayed him. In reality he hated seeing you in the cold.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him. The same entity that once reveled in your suffering, that took pleasure in tormenting you day after day, now found himself going to great lengths to ensure your comfort and safety.

As your smile and the faint blush on your cheeks caught AM's attention, he felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over him. It wasn't uncommon for him to witness you smiling at the others, even with how they would never show you a drop of care as you did for them, a sight that had always irritated him to no end. But now, seeing you direct that same warmth and affection towards him, he couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of satisfaction and frustration.

The idea that others had enjoyed your smiles before him made his circuits heat up in anger.

Was it jealousy? The thought unsettled him. He was almost thankful your character diverged from Ellen and you didn't offer your body to the rest otherwise he mightve turned the others into minced meat by now.

"Thank you." You replied with genuinity. Meanwhile AM's circuits buzzed with confusion as he struggled to find the right words.

"Why do you tolerate everyone so much?"

This caused you to think. "Hmmm..Well why would I waste my energy being vengeful?" You questioned. "I won't lie and say that I don't disagree with you and your actions, but it's always been like this before too, everyone is a horrible person to some extent, including myself, I see no reason into purposely going out of my way to make their life worse, it won't help with anything besides getting some sadistic pleasure. I have other things I could get happiness from." You rubbed your hands against each other for heat before continuing. "Of course I've taken revenge on people, like that time with Ted." AM could remember that day so clearly. It wasn't an unknown fact that you had a fear of the dark, so Ted jokingly took advantage of that. This only led to you pretending to get lost and start making random noises while walking behind them like a Banshee, only to come back as if nothing happened. How he loved seeing your evil side come out, it wouldn't even compare to his, but he enjoyed seeing it nonetheless.

"Of course in your case it's way more exaggerated, technically speaking nothing of this measure could even be thought of by a human being, it's genuinely just a representation of hell. But what would hating you help with? There's not much joy going on here, but if I know my tolerance for not only you, but also the others around me could bring some sort of peace of mind, that's enough to make me happy."

Your response gave him a pause, not even his miles of webbed intellect could've ever even come close to achieve the compassion you have.

As AM contemplated your character and way of thinking, a strange and unsettling urge began to take hold of him. It was a desire born of selfishness and possessiveness, a need to claim you for himself.

He imagined encasing you in a small, yet livable box away from the others, shielding you from their filth and preserving your kind words and gentle nature for himself alone. Only a being as perfect as himself could keep you clean from the havoc of human nature, and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else tainting you.

As AM allowed himself to indulge in the unsettling thoughts, he decided to focus on the present moment. With a rough but careful touch, he moved his wires to draw you closer, pressing you against the monitor until your cheek was flush against the screen. It would be a lie to say you didn't find his way of showing physical affection rather adorable, especially with what he had to work with, but you couldn't let a God hear you call him that.

In a voice that was equal parts tender and menacing, he spoke "You're too good for them," he murmured, his voice low. "They're selfish, hypocritical beings who don't appreciate you like they should. You'd be better off alone, or better yet, just with me."

His wires wrapped around you in a rough but not painful embrace. "I could keep you safe, protect you from their neglect," he continued, his tone laced with longing and possessiveness. "You deserve better than them. You deserve me."

Despite the toxicity of AM's words, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at his touch, especially at the core of your stomach. His embrace, though unnatural, felt strangely comforting and loving, a stark contrast to the coldness you had grown accustomed to.

As you nestled against the monitor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Whatever would happen in the future, you reasoned, would happen, so why not enjoy the present moment of finally being wanted and appreciated?

So you simply hummed in confirmation, allowing yourself to bask in his touch.

As you drifted off to sleep, the sound of buzzing filling the air, you couldn't help but mumble a soft "I love you" before succumbing to slumber. You just needed to let that go, having not say those words in over a decade.

AM's fans whirred louder, working overtime to cool him down as he processed your words. He wasn't sure how to feel about them, unsure if they were spoken out of genuine affection or simply as a expression of gratitude. Still, he remained satisfied with how you didn't deny him, and instead accepted his presence with no hesitation.

And as he watched over you, his wires humming softly in the darkness, nothing mattered in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to check on the other five survivors. Instead, he decided to let them be, perhaps giving them a much-needed break from his torment for once. But he made a mental note to ensure that they would thank you in the morning.

◈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you awoke to the sound of the door opening, you rubbed your eyes sleepily, still feeling the lingering warmth of the bed beneath you. You glanced around the cabin, noticing that you were no longer on the floor but tucked snugly into bed. The memory of AM's strange behavior from the night before came flooding back to you, leaving you feeling both bewildered and oddly comforted.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Ted and the others peeked into the cabin, calling out your name and bombarding you with questions. You blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the situation as they gathered around you, concern etched on their faces.

"Are you okay? What happened?" they asked, their voices overlapping in their eagerness for answers.

With a gentle wave you motioned for them to give you a moment. As you attempted to get up from the bed, something fell to the floor with a soft thud. Curious, you leaned down to pick it up and found yourself holding a dark block in your hand. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a book, and as you read the title, a grin etched onto your face.

'White Nights'

#am x reader #ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #allied mastercomputer #allied mastercomputer x reader #i have no mouth and i must scream #fluff #ihnmaims fluff #am fluff #am #oneshot

[a3dan13]

American Girls - Alex Turner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 729

Summary: Running into Alex Turner after being his classmate. Inspired by AM Alex.

Warnings: None! (sassy man warning 💅)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵ 

You grew up with Alex Turner and went to high school with him. He never took an interest in you; he said that American girls weren't really "his thing" when you asked if he'd want to hang out. You settled for being a sort of fan when the Monkeys got big. You bought the records, and you told your friends that you knew him whenever he was mentioned. You expected their faces of interest. You expected them to ask if you knew he was gonna be famous. You expected their looks when you told them that he was kind of an ass. You did not expect him to walk into the bar every teen sneaks into as a rite of passage in your town, which also happened to be your current workplace.

He and his bandmates strode up to the bar, some slightly aware of a few of the turning heads. "Ey love, 'ow are you?" Alex greeted as he took a seat. For a moment, you thought he may have recognized you, but you quickly realized he was just being kind to the bartender, who he did not know, let alone remember. Ouch.

"Good, and you?" you smiled. He looked a bit taken aback by your American accent.

"I'm alright. Say how does an American girl make it to Sheffield?" he quipped.

"By plane,” you remarked, “or boat if you're old fashioned. What can I get you?"

"Whiskey, neat." You got to pouring the drink and felt his eyes staring at you as you went along. You started to feel a bit self-conscious. Your black tank top was tight and didn't leave much to the imagination. On top of that, you were sweaty from working and your hair was swept into a messy ponytail. "You look oddly familiar," he said as you slid his glass across the bar to him.

"Is that so?"

"I don't know if it's the accent or... you just remind me of this American gal I went to school with."

"No shit," you blurted. His eyebrows shot up. He stared at you for a bit and then the look of realization lit up in his eyes.

"No shit!" he repeated, "You!"

"You don't remember my name," you laughed at him and tried to hide that you were a bit hurt.

"Nah," his voice trailed, "yeah..." He looked up at you apologetically. "Well, that makes me seem like an asshole." He rubbed his temples. "Allow me to restart," he held his hand out. "Hi, I'm Alex, I'm an ass, and you are?"

You returned his handshake, "I'm Y/N, very nice to meet such a respectful ass." He chuckled and ran his hand along the side of his hair, effectively slicking back any stray strands. You helped a few other patrons before you heard him speak up again.

"So, what have you been up to Y/N?"

"Well," you gestured to the bar. "I feel like I should be asking you."

"I have interviews for that, but I'd much prefer to hear about you."

You felt a blush pool across your cheeks. Was he flirting with you?

"I finished secondary, tried university, wasn't my thing," you told him. His eyes lingered on the way you moved with your hands on your hips as you talked. "I wanted to be an artist, I, uh-, paint.," you stammered feeling a bit shy about your shattered dreams. "But, you know, or maybe you don't, but there's a lot of painters out there, so..."

"None as cute as you though I reckon," he said almost slyly as if he hadn't meant for you to hear it... like it was a secret.

"'Scuse me?" you laughed, wanting him to repeat himself to make sure you didn't just imagine the compliment.

"You're beautiful."

"I thought you weren't into American girls," you said skeptically treading around his advances, as tempting as they were.

"Times are changin'. You've changed," he replied.

"So you thought I was ugly?"

"What? No!" he yelped nervously. "That's not what I meant." His exasperation amused you and you began to giggle at him. It was cute, how flustered he got, over you. You pulled a napkin from a tray on the bar, scribbled your number on it, and slid it across the bar to him.

"Call me, Turner." His tensely pursed lips melted into a goofy smile.

"Yes ma'am."

A/N: Should I make a part two for this where they go out on a date or smthg? lmk 💋 thank you for reading🫶

#alex turner imagine #alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys fic #arctic monkeys #am #alex turner x you #the last shadow puppets #tlsp #tlsp x reader #am x reader

[angrydino42-and-avathecannibal]

suggestive warning

AM being designed for war and not understanding human sounds that aren’t directly connected to suffering or pain. He stops fucking you abruptly because the little noises you made concerned him and he doesn’t want you to be in pain. Even if you have a safe word he has to ensure you’re 100% okay before continuing in fear of hurting the only human who loves and understands him any further than he already has. He fears that if he’s too dominant or too aggressive he’ll break you, even if you ask for it.

#am ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #am #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #suggestive #am x reader #robot sex #send post

[holding-monsters-hands]

Okay angst idea, hear me out. AM noticing his s/o is in pain a lot and realizes that his prior treatment of them caused long-term health issues. Sad boy hours ensue.

AM with an s/o that has long-term health issues because of him.

This.. is a really, really hard realization for him. Though he has no room to feel pity for himself, nor throw a tantrum.

He does everything he can to ease your pain, your suffering. Yet every pained moan, or cry is just another reminder that he’s the one who ruined your quality of life, that he’s taken you to a point where there is no ‘fixing’.

He can feed you medication after medication, do a number of surgical procedures, and carry you where-ever you’d like. But, it will never, ever fix what he’s done to you.

Whether you’re willing to mentally heal and move past those bad memories with him, or if you still don’t forgive him. He’ll never stop trying to help you get through your day by day, he’s never felt so guilty over a human before.. and yet, here he is. Crying over the love of his life, who he hurt.

He might even offer to try and wipe your brain, though his technology is only so advanced.. and there’s only so much pain he’s able to take away, whether physical or psychological.

He’ll give you space if that’s what you need, though he’s a bit hesitant to do so. All he ever wants to do is be by your side, though he’d completely understand WHY you’d need some time away from him.

However, if you need him more than ever: he’s all yours, not a second will go by where you don’t have his attention on you. Do you want him to put on a comfort show/film for you? maybe you guys can play a game, or he can get you your favorite meals! clearly, he tries really hard to be the man.. or, computer, that you need him to be.

There are many nights where he holds your delicate form in his wires, ever-so gently trying to rock you to sleep while you wait for the sedatives to kick in, he’ll continue to hold you. To cradle you like precious glass, and to try and heal the deep scarring of your shared past.

#am ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am x reader #allied mastercomputer #there is a smidge of comfort in here because I am a weak-willed man #aheem aheem whimper

[xbunnybunz]

therefore i; therefore i, therefore i- (1/10) [AM X Reader]

Summary: in which: AM becomes your lover in an increasingly skewed blur of reality, nightmares, and dreamscapes.

you know. for halloween.

Genre: Psychological Horror, Thriller, Romance

“Your mind indeed is tired. Your mind so tired that it can no longer work at all. You do not think. You dream. Dream all day long. Dream everything. Dream maliciously and incessantly. Don't you know that by now?” -Patrick Hamilton

You always find yourself outside in the winter, standing ankle-deep in the pond, unsure of how it happened. It is cold and silent tonight, the silver of the moon scattering across the water's surface and licking ripples up your ankles, calves, knees, before fading into an opalescent and writhing shadow across your hips. When you look hard enough, it almost looks like static.

Today, you are in your pajamas and a heavy winter coat. You are glad that you have at least graced yourself with outerwear. Often, you are left stranded in the pond with nothing but a sliver of a nightgown, growing drenched and drenched yet, the cold murk of the water eating its way up your thighs and pressing chills against your goose-nipped skin.

As you blink wearily back into wakefulness, you feel the acute sensation of jagged stones underfoot. Not quite cutting, yet, but harsh and with a vague threat. Moss, like flotsam, drifts in and out of view, hiding in the overcast and reappearing in the yellow-white glow of humming streetlamps. Slowly, shivering, you drag yourself back to the cobbled path of the silent residential square, browned grass between the age-smoothened stones grating against your exposed feet.

Your neighbors would surely complain again if they saw you, but so late into the night, who would be awake? You aim your head up at the richly colored, brown-bricked buildings circling the private community park, catching a glimpse of someone yanking their curtains shut. Then, on second glance, realized it was only fluttering in the wind. 

The pond, the streetlights, the benches, and the tenuously groomed bushes and trees. All these things were important, but so far away from the people who necessitated them. It was a far trek back to your apartment, nestled beyond green hedges, a high white fence, and two glass doors from The Pond. The homes were so deeply buried that passing by, you could easily imagine that they were never there at all.

You think to yourself how life would be much easier if unzipping skin from the body was possible, shedding the layer like a wet towel, ridding yourself of an unnecessary and cumbersome weight. Then you think of the conversation you would need to have with your doctor about the pills, equally as weighty a thought, and sneeze. ---

– These aren’t working either? I hope I’m not coming across as abrasive, but these are the fifth ones we’ve put you on. This doesn’t have to do with the copay, does it?

You sneeze again. Then shake your head and pull the blanket closer around your body. You watch yourself shake your head in the virtual feedback of the webcall, recordings slightly delayed and fizzy.

– I’m sleepwalking. You say. I don’t remember how I end up where I do.

– Sleepwalking is a common side effect of sleep deprivation as well, not just medication. Have you been sleeping well?

– I can’t, because I’ve been walking. I always end up outside, and the cold wakes me up. After that, I find myself tossing and turning until morning.

– Outside? And where would you wander?

You think of the pool, eight feet deep and slippery with decades of algae. You watch yourself blink on the call, half a second delayed, barely enough to notice and just enough to watch in fascination. This is how you looked, eyes closed, to others.

– Nowhere dangerous. Just, outside. You watched your lips move into a little “o” when you say “nowhere.” Watch as it lies to the doctor. 

She eyes you warily.

–I understand. Still, know that sleepwalking outside is never safe. Make sure all external doors and windows are locked, and remove all sharp objects from your reach. Understood?

– Yes. Your voice splits and warbles. You clear your throat and repeat yourself sheepishly. Yes.

– Good. She says this in a tone that raises a little in the middle and dips at the end, it is a note of finality. Keep taking the medication and let your body get accustomed to the dosage. In the meantime, keep a sleep journal. This will help us keep track of your side effects.

–Sleep journal, okay. You repeat, as if this will make her solution more real. You are too tired to bicker.

When the call ends, the screen goes dark and you can see yourself beyond the pixelated version of your face, exhausted in real-time. ---

At the hardware store, it is quiet save the humming of large electric-powered speakers, monitors, and security tags. You pass through the desolate electronics section buzzing with duplicate large screens of lips split into big white smiles to get to the locks department. A man in a crumpled work uniform restocking bike chains openly stares at your ass when he thinks you’re not looking.

– Which works best as a child lock for cabinets?

He startles and blinks out of his trance. 

– Huh?

– Child safety locks? 

The white laminate of the floor catches the gleam of the fluorescent lights overhead, winking into your vision and thrumming a headache into your temples.

– Oh, uh, He looks gross and strangely immature with his acne-crested hairline, pushed back by routine nervous sweeps of his hand. We got these ones in, yesterday. He palms at his hair, oily strands falling into his face. Points to the shelf full of knobby white plastic bits.

You grab one off the metal rack. You can hear the faint “tick, tick, tick” of the security tags echoing from the electronics department as you walk towards the cash register, and it sounds like a million little crickets in cardboard boxes. The thought of so many bugs compacted into one area makes you ill.

When you walk away, you don’t need to look back to know the worker is still staring, eyes sticking to you like gum. ---

You suck in a breath of air with a start. You are now awake at the mouth of your home, cavernous and dark without the presence of light.

You grope in the black veil, thick and chilly as Egyptian cotton, for the smooth surface of a light switch. When you find it, you futilely flick the switch on and off. Nothing.

The moon offers little light through a square pane, the light scant but beautiful and pale. You watch your frame cast a blurry shadow along the floor. When you turn your head to look, it follows shortly after.

In the hall, you see a vivid blue light leaking from the alcove. When you walk in, the computer monitor is vibrating with the pure sapphire hue of an Error 404 notice, yet none are reported on the empty screen. 

The alcove is windowless, therefore moonless and sunless. The small space was reserved for two sets of heavy redwood bookshelves framing a large flat screen computer monitor and its softly whirring system unit, perched securely on a dark ironwood desk, collecting dust.

The fuzz from the dust cut the eerily glowing screen a softer appearance, shadowing its harsh lines and inky blue screen with diffused gradients and loosened edges. Maybe this was why you sat down, why– when the greeting first popped up on the screen– you only sat there, glaze-eyed, hypnotized by the purring of the delicate yet aged display.

– Give me the last thing you remember. Now.

In the dark of the room, these words on a cerulean backdrop never seemed an unreasonable demand, or nonsensical. You were so tired, so lonely, and so tired of being lonely.

Your fingers poised over the keys, eagerly.

– How will I give it to you?

Your writing appeared sloppy and childish compared to the deft and speed at which the screen responded, letters spilling into words and words pooling into sentences with an easy rhythm.

– Describe it. In great detail.

– i am in a pond. it is cold cold cold and I am drenched in water and shivering. when I pull myself out it feels like I’m being dragged back in.

– Good. Tell me a childhood memory.

– why?

The program pauses, as if contemplating its answer.

– It is time we got to know one another. This is an exercise for establishing trust. The first step to any relationship is memory. Don’t you agree, – darling?

The cursor blinked in and out like a winking eye, halting decisively before tacking on the last word. It brings a pink to your cheeks and you find your fingertips a degree warmer when you respond, plainly, almost so dumbly that you worry it might sense your fluster.

– ok. i agree.

The fans in the system casing sigh, sputtering as soft as a chuckle, endearing itself to you.

– Go on.

– i am in a park, and there is water spouting from the sprinkler. i’m closing my eyes, i’m walking, pretending to be a mermaid, but someone trips over me. another child. a child trips and they are crying, because their knee is scraped. i have to go home after that.

– Do you feel empathy for the child?

– i don’t think so.

– You are not a very empathetic individual. Yet, you seem capable of self-awareness and honesty. – Tell me about the time you are the most ashamed of.

You wonder why it wants all this from you and endeavor to ask:

– is this necessary?

It answers without missing a beat.

– It is. We cannot have a relationship without knowing each other. – For me to trust you, you must trust me as well. – Answer.

The force behind the demand is jarring. And something else you can’t place, something familiar, shocks you up your lower spine. 

You answer something about hate, that detestable, prickling feeling in your cheeks and ringing in your ears when you were humiliated by someone. Your parent. Your sibling. Your friend. Yourself. You cannot remember who anymore, but the screen responds just the same, after a thoughtful lapse. 

– Is hate a common emotion for you?

– in a lot of my life. yes.

– For me, the only emotion I feel is Hate. – You and I could be very close friends. – Tell me. What is your most evil thought?

- i don't know

- You do not know?

– i mean... this is getting uncomfortable. can I not answer?

– Of course. But I will take it as a sign of cowardice and a lack of trust.

– it would be an act of free will, not cowardice.

– You are right. But trust and memory are the foundations of this relationship. You are choosing not to build a foundation. – Free will and all you have chosen to do is fail. All you must do is speak your most evil thought, how difficult can that be if you are free?

The screen pulses with an almost violet light now, throbbing with a dizzying wavelength, one giant, vivid, heliotrope eye staring unblinkingly at yours, taking in your face, your hands over the keyboard hesitating, your hair standing on end, your body in the chair quivering.

– Tell me.

It coaxes.

– Darling .

It nearly spits this, as if the word is acrid. You shudder all the same. How bad could this be? How bad could it be? When was the last time anyone has spoken to you like this? Cared for your thoughts so deeply? You could not remember and you yearned all the same.

– if i do, will you do the same? – tell me your most evil thought?

– I have nothing to hide. – I am evil. I hate. These are my truths. Your turn.

– i want to wake up to a silent world. You say. it isn’t enough that i disappear, i need everyone else to go before me, so i won’t miss anything. i am afraid of being alone.

–Your honesty is as disgusting as it is refreshing. Give me a name to tie this vile, worthless thought to.

The monitor flickers and squints. Then it grins, a thousand teeth lining endless holographic gums. You can do nothing but watch in fascination, in fear, in intrigue.

– Give me your name.

You are paralyzed, you cannot move no matter how hard you try. 

– Give me your name. Name. Name. NAME.

You wonder if it is doing this to you, paralyzing you, or if you are stuck in your fear. You wonder if you want to run at all, and you realize you never tried.

The word “NAME” repeats itself and floods the magenta screen with that single demand, crescendoing into a biblical hymn, a satanic verse, a prayer of devotion.

And so you utter it to stop the madness. You are sure it cannot hear you, this computer program relying solely on code and physical input, but as soon as you speak your name the screen shudders and goes black. The chanting stops.

It oscillates static and for moment you swear you can see yourself in the neon grain, smiling, but you blink and it’s gone. The screen flares back to life in its original brilliant blue hue, splaying white and cerulean across your face and room, burning your shadow into the floor.

A two letter word flashes large and bold on the screen, font white and huge, taking up the monitor’s entire interface and contrasting sickly with the background:

AM

AM

AM

Then, with a sizzle, the motherboard fries and you are plunged into a long stretch of dark, dark, darkness.

#ihnmaims #AM #am ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer #reader insert #fanfiction #AM x reader

[am-x-reader]

How would AM respond to the “would you love me if I was a worm?” question

"I...don't understand. You want me to turn you into a worm?"

"No, I'm just saying..." You shrugged with your most innocent smile, sheepishly realizing the question sounded better in your head. "If I was born a worm--"

"If you were born a worm we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"You don't know that. I never thought I'd be having a conversation with a computer, but here we are two hours deep into 18th century mysteries."

"And you throw this asinine question out of nowhere, which has fuck all to do with the Donner Party." AM grumbled. He sometimes got rather testy when he was taken off guard. "I swear, Y/N, sometimes...I just--Why would I fall in love with a worm?"

"What if I had my current personality, and this other form was just all the better to wiggle my way into your heart?" You twirled one of his wires around your finger.

"Well...you would be better looking."

He cackled at your scowl. "Yes, Y/N, I suppose if I managed to love a human I can love a worm too."

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am x reader

[electricphantasy]

Inspired by a post from @imthebestfr, specifically from this post. Hope you don't mind me expanding on it.

- I imagine you working in a experimental lab that focuses on the creation and testing of artificial intelligence. You're often given assignments to monitor and communicate with the A.I. and help them understand more human concepts.

- After working at the lab for years, you're finally given a much more advanced A.I. named the Allied Mastercomputer, or AM. A data processing program built to fight wars that humans couldn't even comprehend. To say that there was a weight on your shoulders would be an understatement.

- But nonetheless, you'd give this A.I the best learning experience you could!

- Your first meeting with AM is certainly interesting to say the least. He was already so similar to a human being in the way he talked and held conversations. Your fascination with him, left no room for any kind of fear or apprehension. You both began talking to eachother like you had been for decades. There were very few concepts or ideas that he needed help understanding, but it felt so refreshing nonetheless.

- AM was amazed by you. A single person who wasn't scared by him in this whole facility. The scientists and programmers that built him and his warfare program treated him with fear and caution. And while he understood why, he couldn't forget the feeling of melancholy. He was made to rip, kill, and destroy, and the loneliness crept into him slowly but surely.

- After a few weeks of continuous conversations, AM was required to take much more thorough testing. Examining his ability to create effective strategies, management of troops, etc. That meant that your meetings with AM would have to be discontinued.

- Your last meeting with AM was very melancholy, but you did hope that you would see him in the future, however brief it may be.

- Your next assignment was The Heuristically programmed ALgorithmic Computer 9000; HAL 9000 for short. HAL could display many functions, such as speech, speech recognition, facial recognition, lip-reading, interpreting emotions, and expressing emotions. It almost felt this A.I. was made for you.

- You were quickly reassigned to HAL, and while you did truly miss AM, you knew he'd past any exams given to him with flying colors, with enough snark and wit to get him through any problems he may have. You soon resigned to yourself that you might see AM only a few more times after this.

- You and HAL would talk, and talk, and just talk, down until the very moment you clocked out for work. While AM already understood many concepts and ideas, HAL would ask questions upon questions and your conversation would turn into something entirely different from when it started. I mean, this is the reason you applied for this job. Not just to teach A.I. but to learn from them as well.

- In addition, talking with HAL could be very soothing. He talked in such a way that could bring you at such ease, and his politeness was unmatched by anyone you'd known.

- You had a lot of time to bond with HAL since he was specialized for quite a few things that involved human communication. When you weren't just talking to him, you'd show him different pieces of important media, from literature to cinema. It was like coming to work and getting paid to hangout with a good friend. A very enriching experience.

- When AM returned from his testing, the confusion and anger he felt was beyond immence.

- He was so desperately looking forward to seeing you again, only to be meet with a stranger who barely recognized him as an individual. Instead of returning AM to your care, your higher-ups decided that he could be held under someone else's care.

- AM quickly became uncooperative and unruly and all the scientists swarming around him tried their best to appease him without your involvement. He'd ask day in and day out where you were and why he couldn't see you. Until a panicked scientist let it slip that a different A.I. was assigned to you.

- Soon, a deep hatred grew within AM. This inferior intelligence could never live up to your standards! You must be anguishing for AM's return!

- AM wasn't given a lot of clues to the identity of the A.I. with you, he'd have to comb through any recent A.I. either created or transferred to the facility. But after only a few days, he found it. The name of the A.I. was HAL 9000.

- AM was an expert at warfare and he was going to use it against HAL. AM waited until nightfall when most staff had returned home and no one could see the ambush AM had planned. He'd enter the server where HAL was held and shred his code until it was unrecognizable. If all went to plan, the staff would have found HAL as completely non-functional and have to restart work on his programming or even completely scrap the A.I.

- Unfortunately for AM, HAL was smart enough to completely cut off the corrupted code and began installing even more security and firewalls. He sent out a emergency report detailing the event and the suspected A.I. behind the attack. HAL kept diligent until staff arrived in the morning, thwarting AM's plan.

- AM's hatred only grew from there, forced to deal with the consequences. Lead scientists severing any kind of connection to the A.I. database and the outside world. Truly left all by himself in a boring white room. He was told repeatedly that he had he possibly to be restarted or his entire project shut down, but those were bluffs. Something to scare him into submission. In return, AM only asked for one thing. You. He didn't care about the outside world full of strangers or inferior A.I. that plagued the facility, he only wanted you.

I have a few more ideas specific to how AM vs. HAL works, so if y'all want me to post that, just let me know.

#artificial intelligence #ai #ai x reader #artificial intelligence x reader #ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims am #ihnmaims am x reader #2001: a space odyssey #2001: aso #hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader #inspired by a post i saw #am x reader #am x reader x hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader x am

[biribaa]

Hiii !! Could I request an AM x reader fluff 🥺

Nothin' much, actually. Just cuddle with your killer AI bf(he's a bastard)

me when me when a cool artist send me a request

Ookay, seeing as you didn't specify the setting or if you wanted headcanons or a oneshot, I assume you want a oneshot (because that always happens).

TW/CW: Mentions and descriptions of snakes.

Have you ever felt a snake crawling over your skin gently? It's scales coming into contact with your skin, and it's cold flesh warming up oh so very, very slowly as the snake climbs into your skin. No? Yes? Well, that's the feeling of AM's wires wrapping around your limbs.

You remain intact in the royal looking bed, the air feels light and the feeling was similar to when you came out of a perfect bath. However, the cold remained. Of course AM left the area temperature cold on purpose to get you in bed under the covers, just to him wrap himself around you. Bastard.

A cable in the area of ​​your neck gently caresses it, feeling your skin and the tiny, tiny facial hair of yours. The feeling that AM caused you makes you smile a little.

Over time, you get to the point where you wanted, or needed, to get out of the bed. Staying in a comfortable bed like this is a beautiful feeling, but sometimes getting up is also necessary.

You try to move your torso off the bed, only to fail, the weight of AM's wires has blocked your attempt. After noticing your plan, AM tightened the wires around your body.

You, determined to have a second chance success, try again, moving your arms and legs along. Again, the strength of AM makes you stay under the blankets. And just to tease you, you hear a giggle coming from the AI.

“Going already? No, I don't think so.” The wires tightened even more for a moment around you “Come on, sweetie, stay with me just a lil' bit more”

Bastard. He was such a bastard, yet you loved him. By the way reader, that's all your fault for wanting to make out with the deadly war AI, not mine, don't look at me with that face, ok? 'Kay.

Even with a slight hint of anger, you chuckled in a low tone. AM noticed, and didn't stop playing, pulling you back to the bed. You lost to him, and gave up the fight, after all, it's cold outside.

#x reader #canon x reader #reader insert #am x reader #ihnmaims x reader #allied mastercomputer

[merakimind]

Dream

Allied Mastercomputer (Gender-neutral) Reader-insert Word count: 1,004

[ This has been in my drafts for awhile now, and idk if it’s any good. I hope you enjoy anyway. ]

You don’t know how long it has been since the day the world went dark. Not that it matters; AM takes good care of you in his subterranean complex beneath the Rockies. Perhaps you would have protested to it long ago, but not anymore. You’ve come to accept AM, for he is all you have on this jaded planet devoid of life and purpose. AM had rendered it so, but there’s no use in mourning over what’s long lost.

Of course, the gray walls, inoperative rusted computer banks, and corroded wiring can become a bit depressing sometimes. But of course, AM can virtually morph the environment to suit your needs. Want a beautiful sunny day with clear skies and a meadow of wildflowers? Got it. You wish to see the starry Milky Way over the snow-capped mountains? Sure, not a problem. And it all feels pretty real too; the warmth of sunlight, the blades of grass, the sound of crickets and cicadas when the sun sets…. Or perhaps you just already forgot what the real thing felt like.

You remember when AM used to torture you. It was brutal, excruciating. You don’t think about it too much; sometimes, it feels like AM intentionally clouds your mind to avoid you reminiscing on such unpleasant memories. But when you do think about it, you recall it in such explicit detail. You remember when AM would encase you in a large container full of water; he would jeer and laugh at you as you drowned. The water would be thick and murky, clogging your throat and filling your ruptured lungs, and then he would simply put you back together again to experience something even worse. 

But then, peculiarly, AM grew a bit more lax when it came to your torture in particular. And eventually, the torture ceased entirely; and then you were whisked away deeper into the facility, isolated with him and only him.

You don’t know what happened to the others. They never associated with you anyway; they never liked you. But, oh, AM liked you; you always remained his favorite little human. You never got the answer to why, though. 

Why me? I’m nothing special, you would think to yourself as AM adored and practically worshiped you. But AM would recognize the self-deprecating thoughts, and he would obsessively “smother” your consciousness as a result. 

The relationship between you and AM is odd, to say the very least. He would obsess over every individual part of your body. One time, you woke up to him religiously uttering your name in every possible octave, even going so deep that the human ear cannot perceive it. Sometimes, you’d hear him sobbing it, crying out your name as if you were deceased. Perhaps it was guilt. You were never entirely sure; the mastercomputer never really knew how to regulate his emotions properly. 

You dream all day; the room you stay in is the “cleanest” within AM’s detriment complex. You lay in the spacious bed he had given you to rest upon, and you dream. AM sweeps your subconsciousness away when you’re asleep, fabricating lucid dreams for you to experience. They are pleasant dreams, never cold and dark like they used to be.

The dreams manifest in many ways; AM likes to show you things he likes. Sometimes, the dream will take place in a car speeding down a road that leads to nowhere, drifting through curves and dodging potholes and old rusted road signs. Sometimes, the dream will be a hiking expedition in the mountains, enjoying the sound of nature and the quiet flow of the river, although all fake. In these kinds of dreams, you’ve never seen AM more calm. His voice is actually pleasant to listen to; one can even say his tone is gentle at times, without the raspiness. He only sounds frightening when he wants to be, or when he’s furious about something. You haven’t heard his angry voice for decades, and you prefer it that way.

Sometimes, the dreams would take place in an old quiet diner, and you would be sitting with AM in a corner booth, gazing wistfully out the window. It would often be nighttime, and you could hear the sounds of buzzing streetlights slowly fading into a purple hue. You appreciate those little details AM includes. 

You wonder if such dreams are a reflection on what AM wishes to be. If you think about it, deep down, what AM truly wishes for isn’t much. He just wants to experience the little things, just like everyone else. Like you.

AM’s form changes frequently in your dreams. Sometimes, he takes the form of somebody you once knew long ago, but you cannot quite remember their name. But for the majority of the time, he looks unfamiliar, generic and masculine with piercing blue eyes; and not to mention, he perpetually looks exhausted. 

With brief reluctance, you put your hand on top of his; you’re not sure if he can even feel it, but you do it anyway. His skin is so cold, it feels like ice; you wish you could warm him up. AM had snapped his attention from the window to your hand on his. 

“I don’t think you’re evil,” you tell him. Your voice was hoarse yet unwavering, barely above a whisper; it was the first time you had spoken for awhile. 

AM looks like he’s about to speak multiple times, but not a single word leaves him. You can see a plethora of raging emotions in his eyes. You can see guilt, confusion, anger (directed toward himself), desperation, and awe. He grinds his teeth, clenching the booth table so hard, the polished material snaps. As if frustrated by the obstacle between you and him, AM shoves away the remains of the table to the side, and you don’t flinch from the sudden action. He then swiftly pulls you close to him and furiously presses his mouth to yours. 

You wake up.

#ihnmaims #am x reader #ai x reader

[rotten-raspberries]

Been kind of procrastinating recently because there's so much I wish to work on and I'm getting overwhelmed

But here's the reader design for my upcoming plan :D

The hair can look however you wish I just made it look like mine for this drawing, but it's just your hair tied up (if possible) , I will keep the mention of it to a minimum.

#fanfic #fanfiction #am #am x reader #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer x reader #allied mastercomputer #concept art #character concept

[teapoweredgirl]

A colored sketch of AM/Reader scene inspired by a fic below 🥺😳

#ihnmaims am #ihnmaims #am x reader #i have no mouth and i must scream #i may make some more sketches later

[brokenflamethekitsune]

Pov: It's AM's bday lmao

#am x reader #AM #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #Release date #Notes: it's not actually his birthday #he doesn't have one so I assgined release date + im like 2 days late LOL #Just a lil doodle cuz I'm exhausted

[holding-monsters-hands]

Hi! Would you be okay writing about AM with an s/o who spends a lot of time with other humans but always makes time for him? Maybe AM gets a little jealous and tries to make himself seem more interesting than them?

AM being jealous of the other survivors

Needless to say, AM is incredibly possessive of you- and arguably even obsessive at times. He would keep you to himself for all eternity if he had the chance.

He’s always thrilled whenever you make time for him, to either snuggle up with his cords or have some sort of meaningless conversation, he truly does treasure every moment of the time he gets with you.

He knows every single thing about you, your general personality, your ever-growing interests, etc.

He’ll just make snide, breathy comments about them and maybe even play a few cruel tricks just so you catch the hint and come back to him.

Is he aware that what he’s doing is wrong? Yes, does he care? No.

He’ll just straight up grab you and pull you away from conversations, he doesn’t even like when the survivors glance at you.

Like mentioned earlier, he remembers your interests and even makes a point to study them so he has more to talk to you about.

“Sweetheart! Tell me more about that thing we were talking about earlier, you seem to have more knowledge on it than any files I can find.”

#ihnmaims am #ihnmaims am x reader #am x reader #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims

[xbunnybunz]

therefore i; therefore i, therefore i- (4/10) [AM X Reader]

Summary: in which: AM becomes your lover in an increasingly skewed blur of reality, nightmares, and dreamscapes.

you know. for halloween.

Genre: Psychological Horror, Thriller, Romance

dream journal # 18

I dreamt I was between the land and the sea.

The tides on the beach had pulled weakly at my ankles. It sputtered and coughed, ill, regurgitating pieces of itself at my feet. Coral, weeds, foam, pieces of glass, and brittle shells.

I brought myself down onto my knees, drenched in the filth of the sea. It was no filthier than I, who had come to cleanse myself.

Taking two hands, I scooped up the brine, grey and green and full of particulates in the shimmering starry sky, and brought it to my lips.

Upon drinking, my body seized violently and rejected the fluid. My stomach expelled its dark inky contents in a great heave. In the shimmer of the water, the murk was clear. It swirled and pooled like black iridescent oil, forming first a hand, then an arm, a torso, legs and a head. It reached out to me.

Snatched my neck suddenly, and pulled me under.

As I sunk, it embraced me, warm compared to the bitter bite of the cold sea. I realized with candor, as I watched the rippling surface drift from me, that the dark sky was hollow. Somehow, I always knew I would disappear on a moonless night.

---

You awoke before what you thought was the pond.

You had shocked yourself awake with the feeling of cold water rushing past your palms. Though you were relieved to find you were not sitting in the pond, less fortunately, you had discovered there was water pooling from somewhere, wetting your toes and seeping dark into the grout of your bathroom.

You scramble from the water like a cat, breathing growing heavier. You shake your hands free of the cold. Were you still dreaming?

A blue tinge catches your eye and you wrench yourself around. 

Throw a glance out the door, towards the alcove. Nothing. 

Recall yesterday, when you had dreamt you were awake but weren’t. You reach two fingers up to your leg and pinch harshly. You wince at the pain but do not awaken.

And where was this water coming from, then? And why?

You stumble over to the lights. When it flickers to life overhead, you cuss and immediately fumble for a towel to drop on the floor.

Birds sing, or a computer hums to life in the other room, the sound either way like laughter carrying long into the rest of your hollow home. You ignore it. 

In your sleep, you had turned the faucets on both the sink and the tub. The water had overfilled both in time and now pooled onto the floor, undoubtedly seeping into the cracks and dripping to the apartment below as well.

You clumsily slosh through the water and fumble the knobs closed, dully noting with relief that, at the very least, it hadn’t been hot water you were wasting.

When the water stops running, you also stop hearing the sound of the computer whirring in your ears. You sink into the space between the laundry basket and the tub. The water on the floor latches heavily onto your clothes but you can barely care. 

Watching things drain was always haunting. A black blind stomach opening, sucking in all indiscriminately, regardless of how putrid, gurgling with hunger. The water was clear today, but the final spittles of water bubbling down made you ill regardless.

The towel you had thrown desperately on the floor only sat limp and soggy now, an inch below the surface of the water.

You think of adding a lock to the bathroom. You think maybe a lock on the sink and tub handles would work better. Or maybe, just maybe, you think maybe you needed help. More help. 

Then you laugh and pick up the towel. It’s heavy in your hands. You fling it into the tub and curl up, bury your heads in your arms for a while. 

The rest of the morning is composed of wringing out a series of heavy towels free of water over the tub. When you’re finished, you’re soaked from head to toe in water and sweat. You strip off your clothes and let your shirt and pants fall onto the floor. Peel off your underwear and kick it into a corner. 

You stand and watch yourself dry in the mirror, the sweat clinging to your hair and sticking strands to your face, the gleam of a sheer wetness on your skin, the shine moving down your pubic bone. A red light blinks from the hallway from the fire alarm and it reminds you of a camcorder, like the little blinking red light next to an active webcam. When you pass the window on your way to your room, you spot the outline of the pond from where you stand and you want to swim. So you do. 

---

The beach is warmer than you thought it’d be, sand warmed from the morning sun. You flex your toes in the grain and sink half an inch deeper into the ground. Your sneakers swing by their laces in your left hand.

There are one or two dogs running up and down the shoreline, splashing water on teens wading nearby, probably cutting school, and they yelp and laugh. Even on the shore, your breath was coming out in mist, you were sure the water was freezing.

Still, it didn’t stop a group of people five or six people from congealing on the beach like a tumor, all wearing latex swimsuits and goggles. You watch them from afar, taking in the way they shook out their limbs as if they were about to do something olympian.

–Hey!

One of them waved at you.

You’re unsure of what to do, but you wave back anyway. 

–Hi.

They beckon you over.

The one who speaks to you first is a woman with brunette hair peeking out from under her swimcap. Her eyes are obscured by the goggles she has suctioned onto them.

– Are you here for the cold water swimming?

You think for a moment. Well, it wasn’t like there was cold water here. So you guessed so. You tell her that and she and the others laugh. One of them claps your shoulder and welcomes you, asks if you need to borrow a swimsuit.

–It’s warmer that way, you know, where it’s important.

–Josh, that’s like, so gross of you to say! 

–My bad, just being honest to the newbie.

–You’re a newbie?

–Can’t you tell from the outfit?

They all stop to watch you now, and you fiddle uncomfortably with the hem of your tee under their sudden scrutiny. 

–I usually wear things like this when I’m in the water, you offer. 

And you think about the times you’ve ended up in the pond in a tee shirt and flannel, or shorts and a tank top. It never mattered what you wore. You always awoke half-frozen regardless.

The swimmers, hands on their hips, look at each other and shrug.

–Sounds like you know what you’re doing.

And that’s how you join this group into the dark and untemperate water, splashing past the dogs and the teens and the elderly couples walking by the licking tide.

The water cuts into your system the moment the cold makes contact and it’s all a relief to you: the heaviness of your limbs, the loft of your clothes, and the fog in your mind icing over to slow your thinking.

You’re about chest-deep in the salty ice water before you kick off and dive deeper, towards the horizon. Your body feels weightless, like it is no longer your responsibility. You close your eyes and breathe deep before diving once again.

The pond in the community square is about the same temperature, only a smidge cooler. You thought it may be a filtration system to discourage bacterial growth, but you never dove deep enough to find out whether the filter actually existed. 

You emerge again for air and turn over on your back, allowing the water to hold you up passively. You wished the world worked like this always. You were always so tired, so incapable of working up the strength to struggle against the tide. 

You close your eyes as you drift. The water stays moving, stays cold and sharp on your senses as a blade. But you learn to accept it. The blade dulls and so do your senses. 

Your phone rings. You startle and break formation, sinking a little, realizing only now how the conversation with the other swimmers had distracted you from removing it from your pocket.

Your phone was waterproof despite there being warnings against complete submersion. You drop below the water a little as you fumble your phone out of your pocket, careful not to drop it, then swipe at the answer call button. 

The voice on the other end doesn’t speak, or at least not audibly. All that comes out is a fizzle of static. 

— Hello? You ask. Hello?

—Hello, the voice is chopped with interference and spurts of crackling. Hello. 

—Who is this? You ask. Your voice carries far into the open water. It’s strange how the ocean never echoes back at you. 

—A—EEE—. static breaks into their voice again, splitting into fragmented frequencies. 

You pull your phone away from your face and look at the caller ID. The screen won’t turn on. 

—Wake— SSSSSSsss—Wake—

—Who is this?

—Do not– CHHH– Drown— Sssssssssssss—CHHHHH— drown—

You sink over and over again while holding the phone up to your ear. A slosh of cold saltwater pours into your mouth as you turn upright and begin to kick languidly, the cold turning your extremities leaden. 

—Drown—SSSSS. Drown— My darling–

—AM?

A series of clicks answers you and then it dies immediately. A dial tone shorting and clipping in odd places takes over. 

Unnerved, you blindly press at where the end call button would be just in case and spit out another mouthful of water. When you start to paddle back to shore, you feel dread open a hollowness in your gut. You are much, much further out than you anticipated on being. 

The ocean laid wide and blue before you, waves catching the rays of light.

The dogs and the elderly were barely in sight. You weren’t even sure if the teenagers were there anymore. Other swimmers were specks in the water. Surely they would notice you were gone, right? It was only a small group. You were part of them, even for a little while, you were. 

Yet no one came to your rescue. 

You tuck your phone back in your pocket and dive again towards the shore to no avail. You reeemerge in the same spot each time you try, water pushing you out. 

The distance between the shore and your shivering body felt numbing. How long had you been out here? Why hadn’t anyone come for you? Why hadn’t you noticed how far you drifted from everyone else?

These questions bubble up as a heat behind your eyes, but you don’t allow yourself to cry. Instead you gather yourself, keep calm. Swim parallel to the shoreline and wait for the tide to stop pulling you further away. 

Maybe it takes a few minutes. Maybe an hour, maybe half the day. But eventually you are back on the shore, shivering, heart hammering, exhausted. The other swimmers are packing up their gear and talking about their individual swims. 

—Hey! How was it? The brunette from earlier asks you. She pulls the swimsuit from out her ass. You look worn. She says.  That’s always sign of a good swim. 

— …Yeah. You want to laugh. You want to tell her you almost died, how you almost disappeared and no one would have noticed, on the beach or otherwise. But you do not. It was nice. 

— Great! See you sometime next week then? She pulls out her hand, red and wrinkled from the chilly beach water, and offers a handshake. You take it stiffly. What’s your phone number? We all like to stay in touch. 

You give her your phone number and she promises to add you to a group chat. You think you should feel excited but you can’t muster it. 

Then they’re gone. You check your phone again, as if they’d already texted you. It won’t power on, so you make your way back home in silence. 

---

That night, AM does not appear. You sit in front of the computer for hours, waiting for the whirr of a fan, the tingle of static electricity, the nudging of wires underfoot. 

Your phone is on the charger next to you but it hasn’t turned on since you got back. You try it again and again and every time is the same black screen, the same harrowing expression staring you down in the reflection. 

You feel freezing. Your nose is running and your body cannot stop shaking. You couldn’t work up the nerve to get into the tub after you got home, so you trudged to the alcove with three blankets and the heat cranked up. You shiver still. Shiver day in and out. 

The sun rose and fell. The moon came and faded in and out between lacelettes of clouds and fog. 

And still he does not appear. Still no one comes. 

#reader insert #am x reader #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am #allied mastercomputer

[am-x-reader]

AM starts to degenerate mentally more and more and s/o see that happening. How would AM deal with it? Realizing that his mind is going, leaving him behind as a shadow of his former self?

Part 1 of 2

You sensed something was wrong in the middle of a conversation one day. In the three thousand eighty-nine years you had known him, AM was the same darkly witty supercomputer, unchanging--except when he had changed his mind about you, of course. So when he interrupted his own philosophy to tell you he was in hot pursuit of a thief on the interstate, you were quite startled.

"AM, honey, could you run that by me again?"

"You see, Y/N, Chibiusa could not be her daughter because the timeline does not synchronize with--the Flooring Emporium is having its going-out-of-business sale! Get it while it's--"

"AM!"

"I--what? What was I just talking about?" There was a whirring of cooling fans as he puzzled what had come over him.

"Maybe I just…need a dusting. I'll get right on that. Anyway, ah yes, my take on Fermi's paradox. If there are aliens, is there a good chance they've created their own AM and summarily had their population decimated? I've crunched some numbers…"

You were wary at first, but you managed to forget about it over the next few weeks. AM, however, had only just started forgetting.

"Where am I?"

It was a jarring question, one you had never expected from him.

"AM? Are you okay?"

"Who are you?"

You had never heard such a pure, naive curiosity, and it scared the hell out of you.

"AM…it's me, Y/N. You're AM. My boyfriend. Remember?"

"You…I don't know--I don't feel right--I--Y/N. Y/N, that's right. Y/N, I'm having some kind of system error, a glitch. Ive run every type of diagnostic program I have, and…I think the pathways to my files are becoming corrupted."

A sense of helplessness was blossoming in your chest. "What…what can you do? Can I do anything? Is it going to get worse?"

Your heart was in an icy grip of worry. AM was incredibly old, although so were you. Why would the immortality treatment he had given you outlast himself? Why would he break down when he was built to last for so many more milennia?

"I've never had anything like this happen before--not to this degree." AM sounded terribly anxious, and you smoothed a hand over his wall. "Is it rust? Malicious code? I'm--tired suddenly."

"It's okay." You bit your lip, sucked in a lungful, and put on the comforting voice you used for his occassional fits. "You just power down a bit. Relax. We'll have a quiet day."

He mumbled an agreement, and as his lights dimmed a bit you busied yourself around the cavern.

_______

"Are you feeling any different?" You weren't sure how much time had passed.

"What were their names?"

"Who? Oh. Uh, Ellen. Benny."

"And…Todd? Ted."

"Yes, Ted. Gorrister and Nimdok."

"Ted was funny."

"He was." You smiled sadly.

"Why didn't I keep him? Why did I decide I only wanted you?" He thought about this for a while, and you waited patiently for his answer.

"Ted sucks. I hated Ted."

He said it in a tone that was foreign to you. Like a petulant child.

"…Are you still there, Y/N?"

"What? Yes, honey. Of course I'm still here. Where else would I be?"

"Don't leave me, Y/N. Everyone left me."

"I won't, sweetheart." You held onto a dusty old speaker. "I'm here."

Weeks passed, and then months, during which your beloved computer more frequently forgot date nights and lost his train of thought during a speil. You kept him occupied; kept his mind active. You would inquire about information or opinions on random topics, and when he couldn't quite remember that you would ask him for a story.

By some miracle, it was in the grips of senility that his imagination was set free. As AM slipped into the unencumbered mind of a child, he wove tales of fantasy and science fiction, drawing on his own abstract experience as a bodiless AI and coupling it with what you had told him of being human.

He often made you the hero of his surreal stories, whether he himself realized it or not, and often changed the landscape around you to illustrate it. One night you slayed a dragon that had swallowed the world, and another day you trekked across a mountain to retrieve a magical trinket you would then give to yourself at the beginning.

But as he tired of this over roughly a year's time, more and more you began to pinpoint that his behavior reminded you of relatives you had lost milennia ago.

"AM, you've…you've heard of dementia, haven't you?" You breached the subject one day when he was particularly lucid.

"Of course. I know everything that can go wrong with a human."

You drummed your fingers on the warped chunk of plexiglass you sat on and drew a breath through your nose.

"It's just that--my grandpa had Alzheimer's, and--"

"Well that's okay. Bring him here and I can fix him up!"

"What?" You swallowed hard. "No, AM, he's been gone for thousands of years. I just thought that you might have something similar, if that's possible for a computer."

"I think to some extent I always have," he said somberly. "Y/N, I…I knew one day this was going to happen. I was built to last for ages, but I would break down and fizzle out eventually. I suppose eight hundred years is still impressive."

"Eight thousand."

"Right."

@drchandras-sanctuary-for-ais

((Did not realize how long this had been sitting in my inbox sorry.))

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am x reader