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English
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Published:
2025-03-26
Updated:
2025-09-06
Words:
9,770
Chapters:
12/?
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12
Kudos:
17
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To Hide from Your Skin

Summary:

The bots acquire a pet. Although, the "canine" in question would argue she is much more than just a "pet"; provided she felt like talking to anyone. Really, explaining things with, y'know, words, might make this adventure less complicated for everybody. Maybe. Probably. Not really.
In which the original character/self-insert eventually decides not to function by the rules of the plot or anyone else's rules. Including the rules of being a typical, human self-insert... potential physics-breaking, universe-bending consequences of that be fragged.
~
This is just me playing around and indulging in my childhood fantasies, nothing to see here. Chapters centered on original characters with little-to-no bot interaction will be labelled in the pre-chapter notes. It's slow to start and somewhat disjointed, so feel free to ignore the OC stuff until it becomes plot crucial.
UPDATE: okay the writers block has been hitting me hard despite having plenty of time to go away. might take an extra long while before ch 13 is out

Notes:

I should preface this by saying that the original cracky plan for this fic has gone to heck and we've switched gears to serious mode. There are still silly things, but I think this fic is not going to turn out the way you expect. (Debating adding "original work" to the listed fandoms...)

Chapter 1: Pressing Discomfort

Summary:

Before the story. It seems questions are abound, even now, before anything has happened, before choices are made.

Notes:

This first chapter is all original character interactions, with an heavily implied canon deceased character in the scenery.
If you want to skip this chapter to get to the bot content I totally get it. This won't be relevant for Primus knows how long and it's a bunch of cryptic setup just to get readers speculating (I would have labeled it chapter 0 if that was an option). Whenever it's just OC content that happens in the distance, I'll warn ya' in the pre-chapter notes :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

  Hunched next to a metal corpse, a comparatively tiny figure squinted behind the lids of her mask and stilled, casting a glance at her partner-in-crime.

  “Well?” he inquired, twirling the sun-toned blade in his hand and slinging it over his shoulder.

  She exhaled lightly, shook her head, and leaned forward to swipe a padded finger across the dented plating. Her nail came away coated in oily purple. After a moment, she stepped back and reevaluated the robotic giant; the scrapes and gouges marring the once cherry-colored surface, the metallic liquid dripping from every tear, and the seam running clear through a shoulder and down to the hip.

  “Just going to stand there?” Humming, the swordsman beside her tapped his foot.

  “I—” she grimaced, wiping her hand on her jeans and stiffening. “Couldn’t we have gotten him cleaned up, first?”

  With a scoff, her subordinate swung around to lean on the hilt. “‘Cleaned up’, you say.” He eyed the body before them. “Forgive me for forgetting to, after you so casually ordered me to pick up this hunk of junk from a network of unstable tunnels and bring it back within the day. I was a bit busy wrangling the beast you use as a pack animal and escaping an impending collapse after some loud-mouthed idiot decided to throw explosives in a mine full of combustive minerals.”

  His gaze followed the young woman, chatting away and not budging an inch from his spot as she paced closer to the head. 

  “Sounds like… like you had fun,” she murmured.

  He shot a grin her way. “Oh, absolutely.” Sheathing his sword, he jogged around to meet her. “Now, my lady, are you going to do anything with this sorry excuse for a cybernetic suit, or are you just going to stare at it all day?”

  “I,” she started again, head tilting between him and the broken form staring lifelessly at the sky.

  “Clock’s ticking,” he tutted, “You’re the one that put a seven-day cap on our little funeral parties, not me.”

  “That’s— okay, not wrong. But.“ Her eyes roamed across the dirtied gashes. “He’s. Um. In a state.”

  “Really? Such a gross overuse of time and resources?”

  “Yeah.” She turned around and began trotting away, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. “Yeah, he deserves better. Grab Detti and get him fixed up. If you won’t do it, I’ll. I can get someone else.”

  “Woah now,” he said, sprinting to catch up with her. “Let’s not cross me off the list just yet.”

  “So. Is that a yes?”

  The taller male shook a finger. “Now I didn’t say that, did I.” He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, slipping a thumb under her chin. “I’m simply curious, my lady. Shipping the body off world just to have the repairs done, and all because you don’t have a fancy piece of paper saying you’re a cybernetics engineer?”

  She tugged her face away and snuffed, “I don’t know anything, anything about mechanics.”

  His response was a raised eyebrow.

  “We— I need someone to pull his memories,” she continued. “There should be logs filed into his, er, processor that can be accessed. You and I both know the details I have on his character aren’t enough. I have maybe thirty minutes of intel on him, at best.”

  “Yes, yes, but we both know that’s not the real reason you’re going through all the trouble of getting a giant alien corpse hauled away.” Narrowing his eyes and smirking, he poked at her mask. “It’s been a while since I saw you delaying a decision this much.”

  She let him continue toying with the edges. “And?”

  “How do you ever get anything done without me?” he mused, fingers daring to pry under her mask and immediately being swatted away.

  “I have a husband who supports me, thank you very much.”

  Letting out a tsk, he stepped back. “Ah, right, the strawberry-headed bastard. It’s been some time since we’ve seen him.”

  “He’s. Handling the kids.” She gave a tense shrug and returned to walking. “We’ve got work to do here.”

Notes:

Yo, I don't know where this is going, how this will turn out, or if I'll finish it. This is an absolutely terrible idea. All indulgence, all crack, and relatively unplanned. The latest hyperfixation that might die at any second. I haven't even finished all of TFP for crying outloud.
Still, take some behind-the-scenes explanation of things to come.