#robot writes

[paris-in-a-whisper]

A Beatles movie script written by a robot

[static-electric-dreams]

The elders say it appeared on our land on the seventh sun of the Coldest Time.  We were a prosperous people, living peacefully of the land, taking only enough to feed ourselves.  We scavenged foods from the lands, from the plants and the castoffs from the Old Ones, too large and ancient to notice.  Some of us worshipped the Old Ones for their benevolence and mercy in providing us with food and shelter through the works of Their Hands.  The Old Ones rarely paid attention to our prayers.  Or, maybe they did, and we just didn’t like their answers.

Back to the Thing.  It didn’t look like anything anyone had ever seen; it did not resemble the structures we built for ourselves, or the ones we had seen in old books, in tales of the Old Ones and our own ancestors.  It looked impossible, and smelled rancorously sweet, like pure honey.  Its walls extended up, up, up into the sky, smooth and white as riverstone, and broke into large doorways on each side.  No one knew what to make of it at first; an emergency meeting was called to discuss the Thing.

“Something must be done!” the people clamored.  “Is it safe?  What of the children?”

Big Tall, right hand to the Queen, approached with arms outstretched, eyes slowly traveling over the crowd.  Everyone hushed under the gaze of his dark eyes, his stern face.  He waited for total silence before speaking, his voice loud enough to ring through the chamber, loud enough to reach the Queen in her quarters nearby.  “We understand your concern,” he said, speaking, as always, for himself and for Her Majesty.  “We know that you are frightened.”

“What is it?” cried a voice.  It was Nimble Legs, daughter of Many Mother.  She stood tall, cupping hands around her mouth so her voice could reach Big Tall on his platform.

“We do not know,” Big Tall hummed.  “But we must find out.  We will send our finest soldiers to investigate it, and they will report what it is and if it is safe.”

So it was done.  Big Tall sent out his soldiers: Sharp Teeth, Strong Grip, and Keen Eye.  They gathered themselves, spoke gravely to their families, and left the city, off to investigate the Thing to see what it was and what It wanted.  Sharp Teeth took the lead, fiercely protecting his comrades; Strong Grip traveled in the middle, placing a hand on his comrades here and there to assure them that they were safe; Keen Eye walked behind, looking out to be sure that no one would attack her and her comrades from behind.  

It was the beginning of the Coldest Time; the three soldiers protected each other not just from predators, from the creatures of the night, from the perils of travel, but from the chill itself.  Their line grew longer and shorter as they nestled together for warmth and safety, whispering reassurances and questions into each other’s ears.

“What do you think the Thing is?” asked Keen Eyes.

“I think it’s a hoax,” Strong Grip said haughtily.  “I think it never existed in the first place, and those who saw it, perhaps were confused and truly saw a large stone or an early snow.”

“I trust Big Tall,” Sharp Teeth said.  “He has never steered us wrong before, and so I don’t intend to steer him wrong.  We must find the Thing, approach It, and find out what It wants.”

The others could not argue with this; the trio continued in relative silence, protecting each other against the cold.

They arrived at The Thing before sundown.  It was so imposing, even in the waning light; it cast a shadow upon the Three Brave Soldiers, and, brave as they may be, they were afraid.  After a short silence, Sharp Teeth spoke up.  “Come on, soldiers.  We have a mission.”  With that, he stepped up to the Thing and moved toward one of the doorways.

Keen Eye looked behind her, and all around her, before urging Strong Grip inside after Sharp Teeth, and then following herself.  The interior was dark.  But they could all smell the sweet scent, like honey in a flower, like milk and sugar.  What had before registered as overwhelming now seemed enticing and beautiful.

Strong Grip spoke first. “Is it food?”

“It smells like food,” Sharp Teeth agreed.

“Is it safe?” Keen Eye asked.

“Someone should taste it,” Sharp Teeth said.

The three looked between each other in the dim light.  In the end, it was Sharp Teeth who agreed, arguing that he was the strongest--even stronger than the mighty Strong Grip--and would be most likely to survive if poisoned.  He scooped up some of the sweet goop in a hand and touched it to his lips.  The others watched as he slowly took some into his mouth, holding their breaths as he tasted it.  No one spoke for several minutes.  Finally, Sharp Teeth spoke.

“It is delicious,” he said.  “And I feel fantastic.  We should bring this back to the city, to share with everyone.  This year, no one will want for food.”

The other two shouted with joy; they gathered up as much of the Stuff as they could and marched in their line back to the city.  Big Tall was waiting for them on their return.  “Well?” he demanded.  “What have you learned?”

“The Thing is full of delicious Stuff,” Sharp Teeth cried.  “We brought it back for everyone to try.  But even our strong and many arms could not carry it all; we need help transferring the Stuff from the the Thing back to our city.”

Big Tall smiled and nodded with joy and satisfaction.  “You have done well,” he praised them.  “Place the Stuff in the main chambers for everyone to eat, and I will send more with you to harvest it.”

So it was done.  The three soldiers soon became many, traveling back and forth from the Thing to bring its bounty to the city, where Big Tall encouraged its citizens to eat, drink and be merry.  Everyone gathered for a feast, eating the delicious, sweet Stuff until their bellies were full.  Big Tall had a generous portion brought to the Queen, but She refused.

“I do not eat anything I have not seen before,” She droned.  “You may consume this Stuff, but I will stick to what I know.”  Big Tall gave Her his respects and his apologies, quietly eating Her portion instead.

Everyone had a wonderful and prosperous evening, full of laughter and merriment.  They soon retired to their beds, heavy with sleep and laughter.

Many did not awake.  Those who did felt sick and disoriented; Big Tall, sweating and staggering, went to find the soldiers who had brought the Stuff.  “We are betrayed!” he cried to them.  “You have killed us!”

Keen Eyes knelt by the bodies of her fallen comrades, weak and sick herself.  “I am sorry,” she rasped.  “We took and ate from the Thing and we felt no ill effects!  We wanted only to share with everyone!”  But as soon as she said it, Keen Eyes too fell to the ground.

Big Tall was distraught.  He moved from home to home, checking on his subjects.  Many Mother had fallen ill; Nimble Legs had died.  All those who Big Tall had known and cherished eventually fell until he, too, succumbed to the poison.  He expired on the steps to the Queen’s chambers.

It was a massacre.  Anyone who had eaten the delicious, sweet Stuff perished within the next sun.  The Queen mourned quietly, but knew She would have new subjects before long; She always did, and She had outlived many others before, relying on Her noble, queenly wisdom and Her unique position of safety.  

Now, seasons later, as we hear the story of the fallen city and the Thing that destroyed it, we remember never to eat from the foreign, from the gifts of the Old Ones.  We sometimes see Things ourselves, or perhaps The Thing, monolithic, uncaring, and terrible.  We remember our fallen ancestors; we remember our Queen and Her Infinite Wisdom.  Yet we all await the day that the Old Ones leave us a gift we are too foolish, too curious to resist.  This, warns the Queen, will be our downfall.

We await it.

[singing-robot]

Toriel asks Sans if he and Papyrus can babysit Frisk for the day.

“It is not my child I am worried about, it is others who may wish them harm,” she says.

Sans, who is pulling at least one double shift since his fourth job gave him the day off, says, “yeah, sure. it’ll be fun.”

He relays this to Papyrus, who has a council meeting and a press conference scheduled for the day. “WONDERFUL! SURELY THE HUMAN WILL NOT BE THE ONLY ONE BENEFITTING FROM THIS ARRANGEMENT.”

Neither brother communicates his plan for the day, since they both believe that the other slacks off at home while he is working hard all day. They communicate so little, in fact, that neither brother notices the other leaving for his day of work. And Toriel drops Frisk off, who goes inside and spends many hours alone in a dangerous house of wonders.

The problem is only made known when Sans and Papyrus arrive to their front door at the same time.

[robotsnchicks]

Read Gimme the News On Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1960

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Doctor Castiel, Patient Dean, Medical Kink, Prostate Exam

Summary: Dr. Novak crosses his arms and glares at Dean from across the room. “If you think there’s a foreign object lodged in your rectum then I suggest you go to the emergency room so they can take an x-ray and properly address the situation.”

Dean sucks his lower lip in and then releases it into a pout. “Aw c'mon doc. I’ve got a ten dollar copay here. If I go to the hospital I’m looking at a couple hundred minimum.” He spends some time admiring the strong length of the doctor’s hands. “Besides I’d much rather have my favorite doctor’s fingers in me than some stranger at the ER.”

This is a gift for my friend @thedumbscientist who shares some of my favorite kinks. Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it! <3

Also using this to fill the patient/caregiver space on my card for the @deanandcasbingo

[transversal-callum]

Sassy Gay Glimmer

[Can also be seen on AO3]

It is dawn at Bright Moon. The crickets are now starting to stop chirping, though they still are rather loud.

Adora and Catra can be seen standing next to each other, holding hands and saying their sad goodbyes. Just as they are seen leaning in for a kiss..

"WHAT. WHAT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Adora and Catra quickly jerked their heads back, screeching in shock. Turning around slowly, they stared at the dumbfounded princess of Bright Moon, eyes twitching.

"Uh, we WERE going to kiss until you decided to SCREAM at the crack ass of dawn!" Catra huffed, tail lashing in frustration at the rude interruption. Adora still looked like she was recovering from the outburst, her face bright red as she still remembered the taste of Catra's breath. She struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"Glimmer, I swear I can-"

Glimmer whirled on her, not giving the new She Ra a chance to finsh her words. "You LOVE her? You fought her SUNDAY, it's barley THURSDAY MORNING!" she snarled, still ruffled from lack of sleep.

The member of the best friend squadTM then fumed at Catra.

"Slow down. crazy Horde Commander, slow down! And keep your undone clawed hands away from Adora!"

Said Horde Commander huffed and grabbed an outraged Adora's hand again, squeezing it tightly. "Love makes you crazy, GLITTER." she sneered.

"Yeah, I would say so...!" Was the ice cold response.

Catra's eyes widened in fury at the jab and she took a step forward, ears flat on the sides of her head. "Wanna say that to my FACE, princess sparkles-"

Adora's other hand quickly flew up to cover Catra's mouth, allowing Glimmer to go on a rage fueled rant. Catra let out a muffled yowl of fury, struggling in Adora's powerful grip.

"Catra, Catra, where thou art thou Catra?" The rebellion princess yowled, her face twisting in clear disgust.

"TRANSLATION?" she quickly continued, voice seething with harsh sarcasm.

Adora can be seen clinging onto Catra's legs in Glimmer's mind, getting dragged along by a shocked and annoyed Catra.

"DESPERATE. DESPERATE. I AM REALLY DESPERATE!"

With a huff, Glimmer turned around, clearly done with her mini rant. Catra had given up at trying to make Adora let go, settling with muffled profanities and curses that would have made Hodak and Shadow Weaver blush.

Adora felt annoyance pool in her like water. Glimmer didn't have the right to say who or not to fall in love with! If she wanted to be with Catra, so what? It wasn't like she was going to DEFECT. Gods no, she was She Ra now! And She Ra didn't abandon her friends!

'Well, I DID abandon Catra....' the blonde thought sadly. Shaking her head to clear the damp thoughts, she addressed her best friend with an anger edged voice.

"Glimmer, I am an almost grown women!"

"I think YOU are 14 and you're an idiot!" Said girl retorted almost instantly.

Catra was now struggling to make Adora remove her hand from her mouth again. "MPGH!"

"Look at your life, Adora!" Glimmer yowled. "Look at your CHOICES! I mean, have you even SLEPT with this girl?!?"

Adora was quiet for some moments before suddenly gaining a smug smirk on her face. She let go of Catra, who gained a familiar evil expression as well.  

The She Ra's chest puffed proudly as she proclaimed her next words.

"I DID."

Glimmer was stunned. She had no words. Her form flicked. Eyes twitched. Adora and Catra shared a smug victory kiss before looking back, clearly eager to see the intruder's reaction.

Glimmer took a deep breath. And then, out of nowhere-

"OH MY GODS, GOOD FOR YOU!"

Glimmer quickly teleported and gave Adora a high five, a big smile now on her face. She put both arms around the couple's shoulders.

"Let's get out of here! My mom would KILL me if I let another Horde soldier in Bright Moon again so soon after the battle. Remember when she saw you for the first time Adora?"

"Oh yeah!" Adora laughed. "And she was SOOOOO mad. I honestly was terrified at first-"

"Come ON, you stupid princesses! The smell of sunshine and rainbows is KILLING me right now!" Catra loudly growled, seemly not impressed at the display at all. Her expression changed when Adora leaned heavily on her, making sure her 'annoyingly intoxicating scent' wafted all over her girlfriend.

Glimmer, Catra and Adora walked away from Bright Moon, arms linked together tightly, Catra's loud purrs fading into the distance.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .

Some time later, Glimmer was on top of Bright Moon with a horrified expression crossing her sleep-deprived face.

"She is a STUPID BITCH....." Glimmer whispered.

 Her head fell onto her chest, quickly being taken into the warm grasp of sleep moments later.

[singing-robot]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The first of my reached goals!!! I plan for the chapters to be short and possibly dull because I’m just feeling some things out and getting back into the swing of writing. But!! If you were curious, here it is! Some light reading to pass the time :) 

[static-electric-dreams]

Oh to have the cursed task To kill the son of God, To be the end of all the years Of service, thirty-odd. To be a dozenth of the fold Yet fated to betray; To lust for silver more than He Who seeks to guide the way. Imagine waiting, on that night, To kiss the Savior’s cheek And showing all your holy friends The eternity you seek. And yet, you sit, that fateful night Of that, the Supper Last, As He who teaches, He who loves Deems you iconoclast. You argue for the show, of course, Although you know it’s true; He says someone will cause His death, And His eyes look at you. Imagine being Pilate, then, Asleep at three am While hoards of Jewish protesters Demand you kill this man. Imagine trying to be fair, To let this man go free; Imagine how they clamor now To nail him to a tree. You wash your hands of this charade, As you return to bed So centuries of liturgies Can curse your Roman head. The prophecy must come to pass For any chance of hope-- The Christ fulfills His from the cross, And Judas, from his rope.

Judas’s Lament