Archive of Our Own ^beta

There are many ways in which slash (/) fiction begins to liken itself to godly power, and as a perfectly acceptable robot, YNBot knows this.

YNBot, however, sits idly by, examining the droplets of water as they fall from the ceiling into the ravenous hole of the TIMEHOLE. Oh, does the TIMEHOLE glisten in its terrifying splendor, slightly less red curves hugging the less red curves of the hole. If YNBot were any more brave than they already are they would jump in, but alas, a tiny hope-shaped voice in the back of their head tells them that that is a bad idea. And thus, they do not jump into the timehole.

YNBot chucks a baby into the TIMEHOLE. This baby is bug-like and nasty, and something inside them tells them this is not what a baby looks like, but it is a baby, so chuck away it goes. A strong robotic arm slams that baby right into the warp, making it cell 45, and another baby is flung out directly into their arms, this one cell 59. This baby has a doll, and YNBot cannot help a small sense of disappointment. They rub the doll against the child in trained fashion and toss the child back in to repeat the process, just to get cell 45 again.

This is the routine, day in and day out, or whatever can be considered as time in the cave zone. That baby is number 53, who they have thrown in countless times without much thought, never truly getting adopted. Sometimes snake babies show up, and this one registers as number 4F, because their own processors aren’t quite sure how to separate different breeds of babies. Number 50 is never quite far behind, because despite being what the TIMEHOLE despises the most, i.e a clone, it continues to exist as an affront to mankind. Or rather, trollkind? YNBot is not made to understand the concept of race, and thus, will ignore this quandry. The point is that things never stop from happening, and while they happen often, they happen in what can be considered as a grub shape. A grub-shaped time pattern, unlike linear time, because the TIMEHOLE proves linear time doesn't exist at this point.

However, on this ambiguous night day, something else comes through the timehole: there's BUTLERBOT, looking butler-shaped and filled with butler-shaped enthusiasm (for future reference, butler shapes are probably shaped like a wagon), and another vaguely familiar but not really robot. There are a lot of robots in the cave for some reason, and YNBot is not about to commit a racism.

Number 45 jumps back out from the timehole, even though it's been two weeks, but also not. Time, as previously mentioned, is grub shaped.

"Alright, fuckers, we're making a union," shouts the new robot, metaphorically kicking down the door, if there was one. For the purposes of the item called the "metaphor", this door has been kicked, and YNBot is looking down at the metaphorical door, while holding a non-metaphorical grub. The grub moves a little, not reacting to the sound of the door, which does not exist, but to the screaming. YNBot pats it.

The baby, not the door. As mentioned before, the door is not real, and cannot be patted. For future door-related metaphors, this should stay present.

With the explanation on metaphors deployed, YNBot feels fit to question the intrusion onto this perfectly public cave. However, they quickly notice that they have no mouth, as does the reader, and thus shortly sends a local message.

It does not take a long while for ButlerBot to respond, fake-blushing. It should be mentioned that it is not a real blush, because ButlerBot is a robot.

This perfectly makes sense to YNBot, and that is a perfectly sound reaction to what YNBot has said. BB is a very good robot.

This is just like in one of their japanese fanfictions. This would be good time as any to drop an "uwu" or an "AB-chan", but YNBot uses the last two transistors in their brain to resist the urge to do so. It works, sort of. YNbot recently learned that these sounds are frowned upon, and thus does not make them. Then again, they never could, for they do not have a mouth.

And that is the story of how YNBot suddenly became in charge of planning the perfect union.