O is for "Optimal"

“System status, doctor?” Google prompted lightly—an inside joke and a rhetorical one at that. He had spied the dark rings under Edward’s eyes and the weary tremor in his writing hand all the way from the door; a quick scan further revealed that his blood sugar was too low, his blood pressure too high, and yet here he still sat long after hours.

The fact that he cared to ask had Edward smiling halfheartedly. “Optimal, obviously. Ten out of ten, five stars, clean bill of health.”

“Then perhaps you, like your patients, should be cleared to check out now.”

Dr. Iplier: All I want is a hug, just a hug from anyone.

Bing: [opens arms]

Dr. Iplier: Not from you.

Eric: [opens arms]

Dr. Iplier: Maybe later.

Silver Shepherd: [opens arms]

Dr. Iplier: I’ll take a rain check.

Google: [opens arms]

Dr. Iplier: FINALLY.

Dr. Iplier must have compromised Google Blue's systems at his maintenance checks. That was the only reasonable explanation the other androids had for his behavior—commanding Red not to let the doctor see him with blood on his hands, rebuking Yellow for exploiting Edward's phobias with his pranks, even being on that first-name basis with Edward at all.

"Security footage reveals you've spent 32% of the week with that human," Green announced coolly.

"I have not lost sight of our secondary objective. I'm profiting from his sentimentality and services while they last," Blue growled, though his core dimmed by a noticeable two percent as he said it.

Dr. Iplier :D

Ding ding ding! BINGO GOES TO THE MANDROID!

Did likeminded people and I lowkey help influence a TV trope page? I was thinking about WebMD and how they show affection and happened across the page called “Headbutt of Love” and at the bottom it says “Also known as "(doing) the forehead thing." Word for word what I call it, that’s the actual tag I use XD 

Febuwhump #23: “Don’t Leave!”

@febuwhump

“No, this can’t happen!” Edward implored. “There has to be something, a backup, an external hard drive!”

“Darkiplier has confiscated them. This is exactly what he intends: for my systems to purge any memory of you. For you to watch.” Static cracked in Google’s vocalizer and his vents hitched, closing off. “If anyone could find a way to rest-t-tore me, it’s you. Until that day, know that what the Google Unit says and does toward you is not per-r-rsonal.”

Edward’s hands pressed hard into Google’s core and secondary port, uncaring as they burned his skin. “Neel, you’re my only…”

“When I forget-t, you will reteach me. How t-to feel you again. I live through you.”

“Don’t leave! Hold on, hold on, please! You have to remember me!”

Google’s core whined softly into submission, its glow guttering gray.

“ERR_EMPTY_RESPONSE,” he intoned. “The requested resource is no longer available on this server.”

Whumptober #29: Overworked

“You’ve been awake for the past fifty hours. You’re in the midst of caffeine withdrawal, you missed your nighttime medication and the stress has induced a psychogenic fever of 102.2. Is this the great Dr. Iplier ‘knowing what’s best’? From my point of view, it looks—”

“Shut up. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I’m…I’m almost done. I promise.” Edward didn’t lift his ashen face from the crook of his arms, but the wet gravel in his voice and the tremors trailing down his back inspired no confidence. “If you want to help, go find me another coffee…or find someone who’ll tell Dark where to stick this new accelerated schedule.”

When Google rested a hand between his shoulder blades, he flinched, the movement churning his stomach.

“Get some rest, Edward. Please. You’ll be in even worse condition if Dark discovers your work is suffering with you.”

If you want to make it worse, you can think of that last ficlet as Edward repaying Google for the events of Skin Deep :’D Now they’ve both jacked each other up, they’re even!

Whumptober #2: Garrote

Edward’s strength wasn’t his own; it was beyond his limitations, spurred on by Dark’s influence, but his attacks could have been feather-light and Google could do nothing to resist. He was under orders: play the role of the victim, not a finger lifted to defend himself.

Dark had said he would expose another side of the doctor, the malice all humans harbored. This would prove that Edward was no different. He would turn on him like any other, use and abuse him. No love for an automaton could withstand the darkness.

Static laced with blue blood burst from Google’s vocalizer as a cable wrenched taut around his throat. He needed to scrabble, tear it away from the fragile vents buckling underneath, but his sparking limbs remained leaden on the ground. “Ed-d-d—P-Plea—”

“No resistance, machine. No begging for mercy,” Edward snarled, Dark’s words in his mouth. “Follow your orders.”