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ladyjanellyYou ever have a fic that not only takes off in a direction you didn't expect, but that direction is off the highway, down the side of a cliff and straight into a tree?
I really just wanted to write a cute little Jared/robot fic. Really.
I know it's sorta open-ended (not really an ending at all), but that's all there is of this one.
Fic: The Things They Make in China These Days
Pairing: Jared/Jenbot
Warnings: Consent issues--(No robots were harmed in the making of this fic)
Rating: NC-17
Jared arranges the delivery for late evening on a Friday night. He paid almost half a year’s salary for this and the company didn’t even try to add on a delivery fee.
He feels weird when the truck driver and his helper lug in the crate. It’s shaped like an oversized coffin. They remove the wood outer-case; the box inside is what would happen if Rubber-Maid went into the mortuary business.
“You want us to--” the man makes opening gestures and Jared shakes his head.
“Here, thanks.” He shoves some twenties their way for a tip and crowds them out of his home. The second the men are outside he shuts the door in their faces and doesn’t think about them again.
Which leaves him alone with the box. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and pulls over a chair from the kitchen. He sits down and just stares at the black plastic for a long time.
Looking at it makes him feel like a decadent pervert, like the kind of guy who buys expensive sex toys or imports mail-order companionship.
He swallows and his throat’s so dry. He feels like that sort of a guy because he is that guy. If only he were stronger, if he had the spine to resist the real thing he wouldn’t have had to buy a facsimile. He tries to tell himself that he’s not a bad person, just a weak one, but he can’t believe it.
God, why does Jensen have to be straight? Jensen's straight, everybody knows it, and Jared can’t, won’t, destroy the best friendship he’s ever had and the coolest show he’s ever worked on over a crush that’ll never be returned.
After a long time he gets his nerve up and crouches beside the case. He flips open the catches and there’s no sound at all as he pushes it open.
A jolt of sick fear twists in his gut, because even expecting a realistic product, the first thought he has when he sees the foam-cradled person is “Oh God, Jensen is dead in a box in my living room.”
Then it breathes, his ridiculously expensive toy, and some of the initial horror fades. Jared takes a deep breath of his own and really looks at it.
He’d specified a version of Jensen that was different enough from the person he knew that there would be no chance of confusing the two. Those Chinese guys sure did a good job though. He, it, is like Jensen six years ago, at the end of Dark Angel’s run, younger than the Jensen Jared knows, his hair longer and darker. He’s smoother shaven than would be possible on the real Jensen, his chin and jaw unshadowed by stubble.
If they had a problem with the beard, the rest of his facial hair is a different story. It’s all perfect, down to the soft curl of his eyelashes, the smooth arch of his eyebrows.
Jared reaches out and strokes his fingertips across the companion-bot’s unfreckled cheekbone. Its skin is as soft as Jared ever imagined Jensen's would be, smooth and warm against his touch.
It makes a sleepy sound and its eyes move under its eyelids. Plush lips twitch into a smile and it shifts in its packing. They sent it dressed in a white t-shirt and grey drawstring pants. They couldn’t have known how ‘Jensen’ the outfit is, could they?
Gold-green eyes flutter open, searching for Jared, finding him.
“Hey,” it says, in a perfect Jensen voice, smiling like Jensen would after a pleasant but vaguely confusing dream, “What’s up?”
Three words are all it takes. It all becomes too real for Jared to handle, too wrong. He’s done this, had this thing made in the image of his friend, somebody who likes him, trusts him. He falls back on his ass, turns and scrambles for the bathroom.
Jared’s dinner comes up with so much force it makes his eyes water and his nose run. He’s heaving, puking, and then a warm hand is on his forehead, protecting him from hitting the porcelain.
“Shh,” the robot says as it rubs soothing circles on Jared’s back with its other hand, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Jared yells as he fights his way free. It doesn’t try to stop him, just stands there looking confused and wounded by his rejection--looking like Jensen would look and it has no god-damn right to use that against him.
“Jared,” it says in Jen's voice, “Jared, I won’t hurt you.” It holds its hand out in a placating gesture as Jared tries to press himself through the bathroom door.
It never breaks eye contact as it lowers itself to its knees. It must have some preset reaction for new-owner freak-outs. It crosses its ankles and wrists behind it. Jared’s too overwhelmed to get out as it gazes up at him from a position so vulnerable.
“I can’t hurt you,” it murmurs and slowly crawls across the bathroom floor, forced off-balance by its arms being behind it still.
The green-gold of its eyes is right but the color’s too smooth, too even, like glass instead of the rich flecked depth of the real article. It gazes up at Jared and he can’t breathe. It nuzzles against his jeans-covered crotch and he’s harder than he imagined possible.
“All I can do is make you feel good,” it whispers, “Let me do what you bought me for.” It licks its lips, staring at Jared, waiting.
Jared feels apart from himself as he unfastens the Texas belt buckle and opens his pants. This is a dream, all a dream, only it isn’t.
Perfect pink lips slide down around his cock and for a second, Jared forgets what it is that’s sucking him down; he sees only Jensen, looking up at him with utter adoration. This, this is everything he wanted, it’s perfect.
And then he sees those beautiful hands, still crossed at the small of the android’s back. He can’t imagine the real Jensen ever being so passive, so submissive.
It almost tricked him. He’s pissed at it for trying and himself for forgetting what he’s fucking. He wants to see it feel, see it hurt and he thrusts with his hips.
It makes a startled gagging noise and looks up at him in confusion. Jared just gets angrier. He buries his hands in its hair and fucks its mouth, hard brutal thrusts.
Green eyes become glossy but it doesn’t fight back. Tears well up and spill down its artistically sculpted cheeks as Jared comes. The tears cut through his anger and he shoves it away in horror. He’d wanted to hurt it but hadn’t wanted it to be hurt, and he knows he’s not making sense but everything is more fucked up than he had ever dreamed it would be.
The Jen-bot sprawls across the tile, looking pitifully lost. Its beautiful face twists with despair and confusion.
“Stay here,” Jared orders, because he thinks he’ll lose his mind if it follows him again.
He falls on his ass in the hallway, his dick still hanging out of his pants. It hurt, it cried, and Jared’s never hurt anybody with sex in his life.
His hands shake as he calls the 1-800 customer service number.
“Thank you for calling Xing Enterprises,” a too-chipper voice answers and Jared is overwhelmingly glad their operator speaks English.
“My name’s Holly, how can I help you this evening, Mr. P?”
“I hurt it,” he says when her spiel finishes. His voice is high and tight and oh God the night just keeps getting worse.
“Oh,” Holly says, “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can schedule a service call for you. Are we talking about a damage to your companion bot’s exterior, a non-functioning limb or extremity, or a processor issue?”
“It cried,” Jared says because he’s not sure how else to put it. “I was rough and it cried.”
“Ah,” comes the bright reply, “You should have read the manual. That’s to be expected. Companion bots are programmed to respond to stimulus with the same outward responses as a human in similar circumstances. The threshold can be adjusted up or down if you are displeased by its reactions.”
“No,” he chokes. He feels like a kid asking if Santa is coming when he asks “You mean it doesn’t really feel?”
Her laugh is cheerful and vacant. Jared wonders for a second if Holly’s an early prototype or something.
“Think of your companion bot’s ‘emotional’ reactions like the lights and buzzers on a pinball machine. They’re there to enhance your experience, to make it more real. It doesn’t ‘feel’ any more than a video game character or a toaster.”
Jared stops shaking and starts to breathe again. He’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.
“If you are concerned about damage, you can ask it for a status report. It will bring any maintenance issues to your attention then.”
“Thank you,” Jared says, sagging with relief. He’s not a monster, no more than the guy who hits the TV when his team’s losing.
“You’re welcome, Mr. P. Thank you for calling Xing Enterprises. Please don’t hesitate to call again if you have any questions at all concerning your companion bot.”
He hangs up the phone and sits with his head in his hands for a long time.
He can’t do this, can’t cope. It was supposed to be a little stress relief, a way to vent some of the desire he feels for Jensen, working together all day almost every day. Instead it’s turned into one big ugly nightmare.
Jared never drinks alone, but he figures just one to calm his nerves before he goes and faces his mistake can’t count. One drink leads to four before Jared loses track of how many he’s emptied.
------------
Jared wakes up Saturday morning, lying on his living room floor with just his head propped up on one of the seat cushions from the couch. His mouth tastes sour and his head feels like a bulldozer is rearranging piles of broken concrete inside it. His neck’s sore and his eyes are gritty and his bladder feels like it’s got half the Pacific inside it.
He rushes to the bathroom, flings open the door and snaps it shut again as fast as he can.
“Shit, Jensen, sorry man.” He babbles before his brain can catch up. When it does, he remembers everything--the Jenbot in his bathroom, the way it held his head while he puked (and that was before he even drank). He remembers its smile and its words, like the softest, openest parts of his friend.
He remembers its tears, and in the harsh light of the new day, he realizes he can’t let himself hurt it again. It doesn’t matter if it feels or not; he wouldn’t play a video game about kicking puppies either.
But Jared still has to piss, and that’s no negotiable. He’s not gonna piss in his kitchen sink, so he opens the bathroom door again.
The bot hasn’t moved; it’s still leaning against the far wall, between the toilet and tub, arms crossed over its chest, bare feet crossed at the ankle. It doest look wary, but Jared knows it’s waiting for a sign from him on what it should do next.
Jared can’t meet its eyes, but he holds the door open. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be right out.”
It pushes off the wall and strolls from the room without a word. As it brushes past, Jared can feel the heat from its skin, smell some strange, too-sweet, cologne on it, nothing like Jensen would ever wear.
Then he’s alone in the bathroom, bracing himself with one hand against the wall over the toilet, trying to piss through his half-hard dick. The damn thing doesn’t even smell right--it’s ridiculous for it to affect him like this.
Jared finishes his business, shakes it off and puts it away. When he gets back to the living room, the bot’s sitting on the edge of the couch, fingers laced in front of it. It’s leaning forward, towards Jared, and its eyes are so earnest, so full of concern.
“Jared, hey, I uh, I think we need to talk about this, man,” it says, just the right mix of discomfort and worry. “I’m tryin’ to be everything you said you wanted, but it’s not makin’ you happy.”
Jared falls into a chair like his spine had been cut. “What? I mean--what?”
“The personality survey. You took three hundred and eighty six questions to get all the nuances of behavior you were looking for.” It quirks a crooked grin at him.
“You know most people get redundant after forty, right?”
Jared shakes his head. All those questions--he’d answered what Jensen would feel, be, do.
“So I’m thinkin’ maybe what you wanted doesn’t come in a box.”
“You’re not him,” Jared says, and feels something in his chest release. “You’re not him.”
The android isn’t Jensen and will never be. It doesn’t make all this any more sane, any more healthy.
“I’m not him,” the bot agrees, “But I can make you happy if you let me, if you tell me what to be.”
The pink of its tongue flicks over its lips. “Should I be a slut for you, Jared? Should I live for your cock?”
And wow, no, that’s a really disturbing idea. Jared’s reaction must show on his face because the heat in the bot’s synthetic eyes dies like someone flipped a switch. Maybe they did.
“Should I be new to the world?” His voice falls to barely more than a whisper. He looks so young (and he is), so open and beautiful and maybe--
“Will you teach me, Jared? How to live? How to be yours?”
Jared should say no. God help him, he knows he should say no.
“Yeah.” Jared chokes the word out. “Yeah, okay.”
I really just wanted to write a cute little Jared/robot fic. Really.
I know it's sorta open-ended (not really an ending at all), but that's all there is of this one.
Fic: The Things They Make in China These Days
Pairing: Jared/Jenbot
Warnings: Consent issues--(No robots were harmed in the making of this fic)
Rating: NC-17
Jared arranges the delivery for late evening on a Friday night. He paid almost half a year’s salary for this and the company didn’t even try to add on a delivery fee.
He feels weird when the truck driver and his helper lug in the crate. It’s shaped like an oversized coffin. They remove the wood outer-case; the box inside is what would happen if Rubber-Maid went into the mortuary business.
“You want us to--” the man makes opening gestures and Jared shakes his head.
“Here, thanks.” He shoves some twenties their way for a tip and crowds them out of his home. The second the men are outside he shuts the door in their faces and doesn’t think about them again.
Which leaves him alone with the box. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and pulls over a chair from the kitchen. He sits down and just stares at the black plastic for a long time.
Looking at it makes him feel like a decadent pervert, like the kind of guy who buys expensive sex toys or imports mail-order companionship.
He swallows and his throat’s so dry. He feels like that sort of a guy because he is that guy. If only he were stronger, if he had the spine to resist the real thing he wouldn’t have had to buy a facsimile. He tries to tell himself that he’s not a bad person, just a weak one, but he can’t believe it.
God, why does Jensen have to be straight? Jensen's straight, everybody knows it, and Jared can’t, won’t, destroy the best friendship he’s ever had and the coolest show he’s ever worked on over a crush that’ll never be returned.
After a long time he gets his nerve up and crouches beside the case. He flips open the catches and there’s no sound at all as he pushes it open.
A jolt of sick fear twists in his gut, because even expecting a realistic product, the first thought he has when he sees the foam-cradled person is “Oh God, Jensen is dead in a box in my living room.”
Then it breathes, his ridiculously expensive toy, and some of the initial horror fades. Jared takes a deep breath of his own and really looks at it.
He’d specified a version of Jensen that was different enough from the person he knew that there would be no chance of confusing the two. Those Chinese guys sure did a good job though. He, it, is like Jensen six years ago, at the end of Dark Angel’s run, younger than the Jensen Jared knows, his hair longer and darker. He’s smoother shaven than would be possible on the real Jensen, his chin and jaw unshadowed by stubble.
If they had a problem with the beard, the rest of his facial hair is a different story. It’s all perfect, down to the soft curl of his eyelashes, the smooth arch of his eyebrows.
Jared reaches out and strokes his fingertips across the companion-bot’s unfreckled cheekbone. Its skin is as soft as Jared ever imagined Jensen's would be, smooth and warm against his touch.
It makes a sleepy sound and its eyes move under its eyelids. Plush lips twitch into a smile and it shifts in its packing. They sent it dressed in a white t-shirt and grey drawstring pants. They couldn’t have known how ‘Jensen’ the outfit is, could they?
Gold-green eyes flutter open, searching for Jared, finding him.
“Hey,” it says, in a perfect Jensen voice, smiling like Jensen would after a pleasant but vaguely confusing dream, “What’s up?”
Three words are all it takes. It all becomes too real for Jared to handle, too wrong. He’s done this, had this thing made in the image of his friend, somebody who likes him, trusts him. He falls back on his ass, turns and scrambles for the bathroom.
Jared’s dinner comes up with so much force it makes his eyes water and his nose run. He’s heaving, puking, and then a warm hand is on his forehead, protecting him from hitting the porcelain.
“Shh,” the robot says as it rubs soothing circles on Jared’s back with its other hand, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Jared yells as he fights his way free. It doesn’t try to stop him, just stands there looking confused and wounded by his rejection--looking like Jensen would look and it has no god-damn right to use that against him.
“Jared,” it says in Jen's voice, “Jared, I won’t hurt you.” It holds its hand out in a placating gesture as Jared tries to press himself through the bathroom door.
It never breaks eye contact as it lowers itself to its knees. It must have some preset reaction for new-owner freak-outs. It crosses its ankles and wrists behind it. Jared’s too overwhelmed to get out as it gazes up at him from a position so vulnerable.
“I can’t hurt you,” it murmurs and slowly crawls across the bathroom floor, forced off-balance by its arms being behind it still.
The green-gold of its eyes is right but the color’s too smooth, too even, like glass instead of the rich flecked depth of the real article. It gazes up at Jared and he can’t breathe. It nuzzles against his jeans-covered crotch and he’s harder than he imagined possible.
“All I can do is make you feel good,” it whispers, “Let me do what you bought me for.” It licks its lips, staring at Jared, waiting.
Jared feels apart from himself as he unfastens the Texas belt buckle and opens his pants. This is a dream, all a dream, only it isn’t.
Perfect pink lips slide down around his cock and for a second, Jared forgets what it is that’s sucking him down; he sees only Jensen, looking up at him with utter adoration. This, this is everything he wanted, it’s perfect.
And then he sees those beautiful hands, still crossed at the small of the android’s back. He can’t imagine the real Jensen ever being so passive, so submissive.
It almost tricked him. He’s pissed at it for trying and himself for forgetting what he’s fucking. He wants to see it feel, see it hurt and he thrusts with his hips.
It makes a startled gagging noise and looks up at him in confusion. Jared just gets angrier. He buries his hands in its hair and fucks its mouth, hard brutal thrusts.
Green eyes become glossy but it doesn’t fight back. Tears well up and spill down its artistically sculpted cheeks as Jared comes. The tears cut through his anger and he shoves it away in horror. He’d wanted to hurt it but hadn’t wanted it to be hurt, and he knows he’s not making sense but everything is more fucked up than he had ever dreamed it would be.
The Jen-bot sprawls across the tile, looking pitifully lost. Its beautiful face twists with despair and confusion.
“Stay here,” Jared orders, because he thinks he’ll lose his mind if it follows him again.
He falls on his ass in the hallway, his dick still hanging out of his pants. It hurt, it cried, and Jared’s never hurt anybody with sex in his life.
His hands shake as he calls the 1-800 customer service number.
“Thank you for calling Xing Enterprises,” a too-chipper voice answers and Jared is overwhelmingly glad their operator speaks English.
“My name’s Holly, how can I help you this evening, Mr. P?”
“I hurt it,” he says when her spiel finishes. His voice is high and tight and oh God the night just keeps getting worse.
“Oh,” Holly says, “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can schedule a service call for you. Are we talking about a damage to your companion bot’s exterior, a non-functioning limb or extremity, or a processor issue?”
“It cried,” Jared says because he’s not sure how else to put it. “I was rough and it cried.”
“Ah,” comes the bright reply, “You should have read the manual. That’s to be expected. Companion bots are programmed to respond to stimulus with the same outward responses as a human in similar circumstances. The threshold can be adjusted up or down if you are displeased by its reactions.”
“No,” he chokes. He feels like a kid asking if Santa is coming when he asks “You mean it doesn’t really feel?”
Her laugh is cheerful and vacant. Jared wonders for a second if Holly’s an early prototype or something.
“Think of your companion bot’s ‘emotional’ reactions like the lights and buzzers on a pinball machine. They’re there to enhance your experience, to make it more real. It doesn’t ‘feel’ any more than a video game character or a toaster.”
Jared stops shaking and starts to breathe again. He’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.
“If you are concerned about damage, you can ask it for a status report. It will bring any maintenance issues to your attention then.”
“Thank you,” Jared says, sagging with relief. He’s not a monster, no more than the guy who hits the TV when his team’s losing.
“You’re welcome, Mr. P. Thank you for calling Xing Enterprises. Please don’t hesitate to call again if you have any questions at all concerning your companion bot.”
He hangs up the phone and sits with his head in his hands for a long time.
He can’t do this, can’t cope. It was supposed to be a little stress relief, a way to vent some of the desire he feels for Jensen, working together all day almost every day. Instead it’s turned into one big ugly nightmare.
Jared never drinks alone, but he figures just one to calm his nerves before he goes and faces his mistake can’t count. One drink leads to four before Jared loses track of how many he’s emptied.
------------
Jared wakes up Saturday morning, lying on his living room floor with just his head propped up on one of the seat cushions from the couch. His mouth tastes sour and his head feels like a bulldozer is rearranging piles of broken concrete inside it. His neck’s sore and his eyes are gritty and his bladder feels like it’s got half the Pacific inside it.
He rushes to the bathroom, flings open the door and snaps it shut again as fast as he can.
“Shit, Jensen, sorry man.” He babbles before his brain can catch up. When it does, he remembers everything--the Jenbot in his bathroom, the way it held his head while he puked (and that was before he even drank). He remembers its smile and its words, like the softest, openest parts of his friend.
He remembers its tears, and in the harsh light of the new day, he realizes he can’t let himself hurt it again. It doesn’t matter if it feels or not; he wouldn’t play a video game about kicking puppies either.
But Jared still has to piss, and that’s no negotiable. He’s not gonna piss in his kitchen sink, so he opens the bathroom door again.
The bot hasn’t moved; it’s still leaning against the far wall, between the toilet and tub, arms crossed over its chest, bare feet crossed at the ankle. It doest look wary, but Jared knows it’s waiting for a sign from him on what it should do next.
Jared can’t meet its eyes, but he holds the door open. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be right out.”
It pushes off the wall and strolls from the room without a word. As it brushes past, Jared can feel the heat from its skin, smell some strange, too-sweet, cologne on it, nothing like Jensen would ever wear.
Then he’s alone in the bathroom, bracing himself with one hand against the wall over the toilet, trying to piss through his half-hard dick. The damn thing doesn’t even smell right--it’s ridiculous for it to affect him like this.
Jared finishes his business, shakes it off and puts it away. When he gets back to the living room, the bot’s sitting on the edge of the couch, fingers laced in front of it. It’s leaning forward, towards Jared, and its eyes are so earnest, so full of concern.
“Jared, hey, I uh, I think we need to talk about this, man,” it says, just the right mix of discomfort and worry. “I’m tryin’ to be everything you said you wanted, but it’s not makin’ you happy.”
Jared falls into a chair like his spine had been cut. “What? I mean--what?”
“The personality survey. You took three hundred and eighty six questions to get all the nuances of behavior you were looking for.” It quirks a crooked grin at him.
“You know most people get redundant after forty, right?”
Jared shakes his head. All those questions--he’d answered what Jensen would feel, be, do.
“So I’m thinkin’ maybe what you wanted doesn’t come in a box.”
“You’re not him,” Jared says, and feels something in his chest release. “You’re not him.”
The android isn’t Jensen and will never be. It doesn’t make all this any more sane, any more healthy.
“I’m not him,” the bot agrees, “But I can make you happy if you let me, if you tell me what to be.”
The pink of its tongue flicks over its lips. “Should I be a slut for you, Jared? Should I live for your cock?”
And wow, no, that’s a really disturbing idea. Jared’s reaction must show on his face because the heat in the bot’s synthetic eyes dies like someone flipped a switch. Maybe they did.
“Should I be new to the world?” His voice falls to barely more than a whisper. He looks so young (and he is), so open and beautiful and maybe--
“Will you teach me, Jared? How to live? How to be yours?”
Jared should say no. God help him, he knows he should say no.
“Yeah.” Jared chokes the word out. “Yeah, okay.”
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no subject
Date: 2007-08-12 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-12 11:14 pm (UTC)So glad you enjoyed it, and it's so flattering to hear that it's sticking with you. Mmmmm, like momma's cookin'.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-13 01:09 am (UTC)The saying that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence comes to mind when I stop and think about this fic. Jared was torn because he felt he couldn't have Jensen, then when he comes face to face with the chance of having him, it isn't all he was expecting.
I really enjoyed the fic. That is probably due to the fact that I've yet to read anything that freaked/squicked me.
Like many of the readers I'd like to see what happens next and so on. Unlike them, I'd like to take a chance at writing it. Would you have a problem with that?
no subject
Date: 2007-08-13 06:50 pm (UTC)My first reaction to your question about you writing the sequel was equal parts yes! and no!. It took me a few days to figure out what I was feeling and what my decision was.
The No comes from the idea that Even though I may never get around to writing more of this, I'd like to have the option left, this world sitting there for me to play in.
The Sure comes from acknowledging that It's fan fiction. I got no rights to it. If someone wants to write fanfic of my fanfic, that's cool.
The final answer is--Go ahead and write it if you want to. Please give me an "inspired by" line in the header. Don't plagarize my lines. Because I may write more and don't want to be influenced by another take on it, I won't read it. Please don't take that as an insult.
Good luck, and have fun.
-J.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-13 08:49 pm (UTC)So really, I liked this fic for raising questions and making me think about it. And for being a bit creepy, yes. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2007-08-13 09:28 pm (UTC)There comes a point where--are the programmers so good that it feels like it feels? And is that different than genuine emotion?
Personally, I think the Jenbot is in love with Jared. Or it thinks it is.
I read a fic in Smallville fandom a while back, called "Sisters of Mercy," and it dealt with a similar situation...and I can't find it to save my life. I just put a request on sv_inquiry about it because i want to reread it now.
So glad you enjoyed the fic, despite or because of it's creepiness. Thanks so much for your comment.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:the link would be nice.
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-14 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:20 pm (UTC)And yeah. it was a sexy idea--and then I got into the thought-processes and it went so freaky.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 03:29 am (UTC)Are you familiar with Chobits? It's a Japanese manga and anime by Clamp. I've only read the manga, but this story reminded me a bit of that. It's about a world where people purchase "personcoms" and deals with issues of love, like can a man love a machine and can a machine love back?
So, overall, you've given me a lot to think about;)
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:25 pm (UTC)Dude, have you seen the Real Dolls? There's a documentary on it. Creepy shit. It wouldn't take that much of a leap to blend current personality-mimicing programming and the looks of the dolls. The missing link is making it walk and move naturally.
I was thinking it'd be a pretty normal earth, where the companion-bots are like this dirty little underground secret and some people know they exist, but OMG would /never/ think of buying one or know someone who has.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 10:36 am (UTC)Very much about living out your fantasy...and then what do you do when it's not what you thought you wanted, and you're stuck with the consequences? How far do let yourself be warped from the person you thought you were?
This is disturbing. Can't help but wonder what real!Jensen would think if he ever met his bot double. Any reason why he was made so much younger-to make him not just prettier (as opposed to handsome, like he is now) or physically more vulnerable? *ponders*
Pesti
no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 01:54 am (UTC)Creeeeepy robots.
I think the age thing was a little bit of projection? Like--Jared thought "I'm four years younger than Jensen and I want him so bad--A Jensen younger than me would want me so bad--" I dunno if it was weird of me to think that'd be a motivation, but at the time I described the bot, that's what I thought of Jared's reason. And he wanted him notably different from the real Jensen while still being the same 'person.'
Wanna see real creepy? Look in the comments here for a link to a "Guys and Dolls" video. It's all about the Real Dolls and the Men who love them. Oh Jesus creepy.
I think real!Jensen would be freaked as hell. Especially if he's really straight like Jared thinks.
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Date: 2007-08-18 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 01:48 am (UTC)Oh, Jared. So confused about what he wants and needs.
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Date: 2007-08-22 03:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-22 04:01 am (UTC)I think a lot of the creepiness of this fic came from me not trying. if I went in to a sequel, knowing it would be creepy, I think it would be less so. More sad than anything. Oh, Jared.
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Date: 2007-09-22 10:30 am (UTC)I watched a show late one night on robots and the leaps we've made in getting closer to creating true artifical intelligence. The interesting point it focussed on was how we as humans find the more human esque robots uncomfortable to be around. There's the threat they pose and the question of morality that they raise that leaves us feeling uncertain of them. This story definately drew on that, or at least made be dwell heavilly on it whilst I was reading it. I couldn't help thinking of Blade Runner all the way through. ( I maybe have an urge now to read a Blade Runner inspired J2 au).
Jared's reactions were great. His freakout and his in ability to quantify the robot in his head as either a person or a thing. I loved how unsure he was of how to deal with it, the slight guilt for having it made, but the selfish desire to want it all the same was just facinating.
I have no idea what you intended when you first started writing this premise, but the end result is incredibly thought provoking, whether that was the intention or not.
I liked the end too and the questions that raised. The idea of Jared teaching it to live is so layered.
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Date: 2007-10-01 11:29 pm (UTC)I ended up with serious freakin' fic. With consent issues and sex with machines and crap. There's just something creepy about sex with things that aren't really people.
There's a blade runner fic on the reel_spn community. http://community.livejournal.com/reel_spn/10658.html
There was a documentary on these things called "Real Dolls." Life-size sex toys. It was super-freaky, and I wrote this before I even saw the documentary. Clicky the link at your own risk. It's kinda not work-safe. it was a documentary on late-night cable. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3710987618964917848&q=realdolls&total=50&start=0&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=2
I think human-looking robots are distressing, but there was a thing where they made a computer "AI" to chat online, gave it like a 1000 word vocabulary, and people not only didn't get that it was a computer, they actually liked 'her.'
I'm really glad I didn't flush this fic. It wasn't what I'd planned and it took me a while to see that it was still good.
awesome premise
Date: 2007-10-25 03:28 pm (UTC)The responses to this story made me really laugh! for two reasons.
1. My most favorite novel ever is by Tanith Lee, and is a coming of age story where a pampered rich girl falls in love with a robot and discovers how to be herself. It is called the Silver Metal Lover, and everyone who is slashy should read it!! OMG, what an awesome book. So I was with you 100% with the Jenbot. Just because he's a robot, doesn't mean there couldn't be some freak cosmic incident that imbued him with the soul of Jared's universal partner. Check out Lee's book, it will totally make you cry.
2. How is a Jenbot different from a RPS version of Jenson Ackles???? Are we FOOLING OURSELVES OR WHAT!
Your stories are fantastic. I cruised through the Scarverse this morning, which I love. That beautiful, halfserene version of Jensen is so attractive! I LOVE his church!
Also, I kind of liked that JDM/Dean verse, if you ever do more of it it would be cool. What if Dean met Jared? OMG he would be destroyed!!
and the kitty verse is too cool. A big kitty Jared. Who could resist. You realize this is the equal and opposite story to the Jenbot, right? LOL!
Thanks for posting so much great work. Since I do not write fic very often, and would be too chickenshit to post it even if I did, I have not established an LJ. The world of SPN/RPS is so generous and full of great work, it is my favorite so far.
Love, and much respect to you,
Liss (a lurker)
Re: awesome premise
Date: 2007-10-31 04:20 pm (UTC)It's awesome that you just crammed my fic.
The church from scar!verse is the little church Iused to go to in Florida. They really do exist.
I really want to focus the Jeff/Dean verse on them and not Jared, which was one of the complications...also, Dean sees 'dad' still. Which is a squick of mine. so yeah.
Dude, you're totally right about the kitty verse being the opposite of the jenbot story. Maybe I was trying to fix what went wrong here? Weird.
Thanks for the comments.
-J.
Re: awesome premise
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From:Re: yeah...definitely disturbing
Date: 2008-05-28 04:06 pm (UTC)I don't think I've dealt with a character facing the worst part of themselves before...
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Date: 2008-05-27 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-05-28 04:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-10-13 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-19 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-26 04:40 pm (UTC)I would be right there reading the sequels if there are gonna be any. This reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut and Philip K. Dick's novellas. And I am a huge fan. :-)
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Date: 2008-12-29 10:09 am (UTC)The Things They Make in China These Days
Date: 2009-04-10 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-26 01:11 am (UTC)♥
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Date: 2009-07-24 09:15 pm (UTC)I feel for Jared and his need to have Jensen, at least this way if it's not possible any other way, even though he knows it's wrong. I feel for him when finding out that he can't really fool himself and the bot is not what he truly wants. I feel for him because he can't let go of the idea, can't turn his realization of how bad an idea this was into the decision of giving it up.
At the same time, the robot's "emotions" and the way Jared deals with them, really get to me, too.
I like the ending, actually, for how disturbing it is, how it leaves you in such a strange, uncomfortable space as a reader.
Thanks for posting.
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Date: 2010-11-16 05:53 pm (UTC)