#wip: congratulations it's a metaweapon!

[suzukiblu]

Ooh, "congrats it's a metaweapon" is great, I'd like to see more if I may~

“He means a cell,” Match says, eyeing him dubiously. “Obviously. Because words mean things.” 

“You’re too fucking mouthy to not have free will,” Superboy says, clenching his fists as his eyes narrow at the directors and his hair gets all tangled up with his tactile telekinesis again. “Which is the only reason I’m only gonna rip these fuckers’ nerves out.” 

. . . Match does want to know if they can actually do that. 

It’d be useful information to have, that’s all.

[suzukiblu]

Oooh, can I request more Congrats it’s a metaweapon for WIP Wednesday?

That doesn’t actually sound very different from the concept of being “grounded”, but also Match hasn’t actually been conscious long enough to have been briefed on which containment cell is even meant for– 

“Cell?!” Superboy demands, and, well. So much for him not being as angry as before, Match notes. Though he has absolutely no idea why that statement made that happen, of all things. “The fuck do you mean by ‘cell’?!”

[suzukiblu]

congratulations, it's a metaweapon! for WIP Wednesday please! I can’t get Kon’s line from the very first post out of my head: “That’s the whole thing with kids, right? You want them to be better than you.” ?!?!?! Immaculate and immediately brainworm inducing, 15/10 have and will read again

Superboy isn't as angry as before now, though, so if the Agenda intends to kill him . . . well, this would be the time to take advantage of him being unprepared and less alert and his blood not being up. Not being as primed for a fight, Match means. 

“Subject Match, quit humoring Superboy,” Alpha says, looking exasperated. It's not exactly the kill order Match was expecting. “Just–go to your containment cell."

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97; a bit more of "congratulations, it's a metaweapon!" behind the cut.

“Beta!” Alpha snaps too, but Beta just disappears out the door without so much as glancing back at a single one of them. Match glances towards Superboy, wondering, again, what the hell she’s thinking. What she knows–or thinks she knows–that no one else here does. 

Maybe not no one else, Match thinks briefly, still looking at Superboy. 

Superboy still looks furious, is the thing, his fists clenched at his sides and TTK tangling his hair. Match doesn’t feel any trace of it coming out any further from him, but . . . 

The “nerves” comment is definitely still in his head. That comment, and how quick Beta was to head for the door. That’s all. 

Superboy isn’t on record as having done anything that violent before. It’s almost definitely a bluff. 

But it also seems like a very specific bluff, so maybe it’s not. 

“The project isn’t going anywhere,” Alpha says, glaring at the door Beta left through like it’s somehow the problem. “Spence, get Superboy either contained or dead. Subject Match, you��” 

“You’re not in charge of him!” Superboy barks, clenching his fists tighter. “And if you give him one more fucking order, I’ll make you fucking regret it!” 

“He is, in fact, in charge of me,” Match says in exasperation. Alpha and Gamma are a majority against Beta, so it’s not as if he’s going to ignore them just because she’s giving contrary orders to theirs. He is wary of why her orders are so contrary to theirs, but it’s not his place or position to wonder. Not his concern. 

“He is not,” Superboy says. “He's just a prick who thinks he can enslave you!” 

“It's not slavery if I don’t have free will,” Match reminds him dubiously. Superboy scowls at him and folds his arms. 

“Really, ‘cuz you sure sound like you’re picking who you wanna listen to right now,” he says. “Seems kinda ‘free will’ to me.” 

“I'm not picking. I'm only meant to listen to the Agenda's orders,” Match says, exasperated again. He was made to listen to the Agenda's orders. They made him to listen to them. There's not another option.

‘Don't be a brat about this,” Superboy says, his scowl darkening. “Or, I dunno, I'll ground you.” 

Match stares blankly at him. He cannot even fathom the logic behind that “threat”.

“I need a bigger gun,” Spence mutters. Match doesn’t point out the lack of functional weaponry in the room. It’s screamingly obvious, for one thing. He does wonder where Spence thinks she’s getting that “bigger gun”, though, and why Alpha didn’t order him to contain or kill Superboy. That would make more sense, given the weapons issue. 

Or it should, anyway. 

“Good luck with that,” Superboy says dubiously, then looks at Match again. “We’re going home now.” 

Match–pauses. Frowns. What the fuck does he mean, “home”? 

“Those aren’t my standing orders,” he says reflexively.

“Have you eaten?” Superboy asks, frowning back at him in–is that concern? That cannot be concern. Even Superboy cannot possibly be that stupid. “Did they feed you anything?”

It’s been about five minutes of actual consciousness and Match is already having the weirdest and most ridiculous existence that any metaweapon has ever had, he’s pretty certain. Actually, he’s definitely certain. What is wrong with this idiot? 

“This is idiotically off-topic,” he says. 

“Maybe we could get takeout or something on the way home,” Superboy says, frowning to himself now. “Do you know what anything tastes like yet? Is that a thing?” 

Match's standards for “weirdest and most ridiculous” are definitely being tested. 

“I wouldn't trust your assessment of my necessary caloric intake and nutrition if my entire existence depended on it,” he says dubiously. 

“Maybe we could get you a smoothie,” Superboy says, still frowning. “If you haven't had solid food yet, I mean. Probably be easier on your stomach or whatever. I was not smart enough to start with smoothies, it sucked.” 

Match stares blankly at him and strongly considers just killing him now, orders or not. Is this what existing is always like? Because this is stupid. Like . . . so, so stupid. 

He didn’t ask to exist, but he especially didn’t ask to be based off a fucking idiot. 

He’s seriously questioning the Agenda’s judgment in gene donors, at this point. Really, they didn’t have any better options for this project? 

Match finds that hard to believe and frankly he’d like to see the shortlist. 

Purely Kryptonian DNA is too complex for current human technology to reproduce, he knows, but they could’ve made him from . . . he doesn’t know, Supergirl, at least. She’s also a Kryptonian-based genetic experiment with very useful powers, and also telekinetic. And a shapeshifter with a berserker form and the capacity to turn invisible, on top of that. Those make for a much more useful powerset than just tactile telekinesis on its own, which is much more utility-based. He’d have been much more useful having been cloned from her. 

. . . not that Match would be any version of “himself” if he’d been cloned from her, obviously, just . . . 

That would’ve produced a better-suited clone for the project. That’s all. Obviously. So that’s what the Agenda should’ve done. 

Obviously. 

“It was whatever,” Superboy says, looking a little embarrassed. Match looks at Alpha and Gamma, really hoping to get the kill order already. That’s what he was made for, after all. He’s a weapon, not–“Anyway, I know better now, so I’ll make sure shit like that won’t happen to you, okay?” 

Match is not that, definitely. Not something that needs . . . whatever, exactly, Superboy seems to think he needs. He’s a superior specimen; an upgraded version. Superboy is just scrap DNA, now that he exists. 

He doesn’t understand why Superboy doesn’t understand that. 

It’s blatantly obvious to everyone else in this building, after all. 

. . . or Match thought it was, before Director Beta told him to leave with his “father”.

He still doesn’t understand why she did that. 

[suzukiblu]

Congratulations it's a metaweapon pls!!

"We're leaving now," Superboy says.

"You're not going anywhere, Superboy," Director Alpha says icily.

"Tell that to your fucking nerves," Superboy snarls, baring his teeth with another growl. "You hurt my kid. The only reason I'm not ripping you assholes into genetic scrap material is because he's five minutes old and I don't wanna freak him out."

Match narrows his eyes in irritation, insulted that Superboy thinks he'd be "freaked out" by a bit of creative maiming. He's a weapon, and no one builds a weapon that isn't going to be able to handle that kind of thing. He was thoroughly desensitized to violence and death and torture and gore when the Agenda was programming him, and he'd hardly be any more bothered to see it in person as opposed to just inside his head.

Not that he's actually going to let Superboy murder anyone in a position of authority with the Agenda, obviously–that'd go against half the point of his existence–but still.

[suzukiblu]

“Heard it through the grapevine” by Creedence Clearwater Revival for the congrats it’s a metaweapon (because Kon “heard it through the grapevine” and is “just about to lose (his) mind”)

“Director Beta!” Spence says furiously. Beta just very calmly turns her back and walks away from all of them, heading for the exit. She’s the coldest and most collected of the directors, always. Always deliberate; always careful; always precise and aware and prepared, and fearless in the face of consequence.

And she is absolutely running for her life right now, Match realizes. 

What the hell?

There’s nothing in his education uploads that implies Superboy is dangerous enough to invoke a reaction like that in Beta. In anyone. There’s no kills on his record. No maimings. Not even any particularly vicious fights that weren’t proportionate-level responses to life-or-death situations triggered by people of appropriate power levels trying to kill someone else. The directors were certainly prepared to anger and upset someone of his power level. 

So why is Beta retreating like she thinks he’s a genuine threat just because he’s trying to claim Match should belong to him? How is that even relevant, much less important?

[suzukiblu]

happy wip wednesday!! i would love to see more of congrats its a metaweapon or weird kryptonian bonding rituals 💕

"Subject Match isn't your child, it's our weapon," Director Gamma says, looking dubious, which is an objectively correct statement but just makes that idiot Superboy growl again. Beta looks tense, curling her fingers in on themselves, and doesn't say anything.

The growling is a very, very strange sound.

----

Superboy is fast, fast enough that Clark has to actually try to keep up with him, and Clark feels an odd rush of ecstatic energy chasing after him. Superboy darts around an office building and loops his way up a skyscraper, and Clark could cut him off or intercept him, but watching him fly ahead excitedly is just . . . 

He just loves it. Superboy looks so happy, so pleased, so excited and delighted, and Clark . . . 

And Clark feels less strange and alone than he has in a long, long time.

[suzukiblu]

Congrats it’s a metaweapon for WIP Wednesday!!!

"Keep talking like that and I'm gonna make you fucking sorry," Superboy growls, the sound of his voice going still lower and more resonant, 'til it fills up the whole shattered room like a struck bell. Match has the most irrational thought of his life, which is the urge to put a hand on the other's chest and feel that growl vibrate through his diaphragm.

He has no idea where that one came from.

[suzukiblu]

Ooh "congrats it's a metaweapon"; I love him being all protective. Also, the sheer inanity of the bad guy going "no you wouldn't do that because SUPERMAN would never", ESPECIALLY when the character has just shown off a power that Superman doesn't have (making it clear they are NOT the same person).

Match has never heard anything like Superboy's growling, but finds it oddly difficult to ignore. It sounds . . .

He isn't sure how to describe how it sounds. Layered, like more than one set of vocal chords is making it, though he's perfectly familiar with the structure of their shared anatomy thanks to his information uploads and knows Superboy only has one set. And it's not familiar, because again, he's never heard anything like it or been informed of anything like it in his uploads, but it feels like it should be familiar, somehow.

Which is even more idiotic than Superboy is, because Match can't "feel" anything. He hasn't been designed to. He doesn't even want to.

Not that he was designed to "want", either.

[suzukiblu]

Holy shit that snippet :o more of congratulations, it's a metaweapon please

Director Beta looks slightly ill, for some reason. Alpha and Gamma just look incredulous.

"I'm not your 'kid'," Match says in exasperation, folding his arms. "I'm not even a kid, I'm a weapon."

Superboy growls at Spence and the directors, for some reason. It echoes very strangely in the lab.

Match really doesn't know what's wrong with this idiot.

[suzukiblu]

Congratulations, it's a metaweapon for WIP Wednesday ?

"You do realize I'm going to murder you," Match says. "You're aware that those are my current orders?"

"You're my kid," Superboy says, shooting the directors a dubious look. "They're not in charge of you." 

"Every single syllable of what you just said was wrong," Match says in disgusted exasperation, idly wondering if this is a migraine. Is this what migraines are? "And even if it weren't, the Agenda's custody would absolutely supercede yours anyway. You're not even a competent commanding officer, much less a competent guardian. So yes, they are, in fact, in charge of me."

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

interdimensional kidnapping via Robin

the one where Clark is trans but Kon isn't

omegaverse nursing

weird Kryptonian bonding rituals

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

snippet from "congratulations, it's a metaweapon!":

"Okay," Superboy says, his eyes still just barely narrowed, and then the whole room shatters.

Actually, "shatter" might not be a strong enough word, given that the floor and walls are all effectively gravel now and all the furniture is in pieces, as well as all the guards' weapons and body armor, and the directors have all been dumped on their asses.

Huh, Match thinks, tilting his head. Well, the Agenda didn't teach him how to do that.

"That's my kid you fucks said all that shit to!" Superboy snarls furiously, his fists clenched. The directors look alarmed, all three of them scrambling to their feet in an undignified rush. Spence looks bewildered. The guards look like they want to run for their fucking lives.

Match has no idea how Superboy got his TTK to do that so quickly and efficiently, and immediately wants to know.

"Don't take the stupid option," Spence says, narrowing her eyes at Superboy. She shifts like she's going to reach for the gun on her hip, but the holster is empty and the gun itself is in pieces on the floor, so Match assumes it's just an instinctive gesture.

"I could rip all your nerves out right now," Superboy says flatly, glaring back at her, and the guards all make some very alarmed noises. Match tilts his head the other way consideringly. Hm. That's a creative idea. He'd just have gone with causing a stroke or heart attack, probably. "You're touching the same floor as me and you can't fly. You couldn't do shit to stop me."

"Is that what you think?" Spence snorts dismissively, which isn't much of a bluff. "You wouldn't even if you could. Superman doesn't maim or torture, and you're no different."

"That was before you miserable pieces of shit told my kid he wasn't a person," Superboy hisses, baring his teeth at her. "So why don't you fucking try me, Spence?"

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

gentle princely caretaking

YJ accidental baby acquisition

the wet nurse omegaverse

weird Kryptonian bonding

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

snippet from "congratulations, it's a metaweapon!":

"You'd be like my kid, man," Superboy says, and Project Match . . . pauses, and tilts his head.

"What?" he says in utter mystification. He knows he's an improved experiment and Superboy is therefore inferior to him in every possible way, but that sentence is something only an actually insane person would ever think, much less ever say.

"They made you from me, so you're my kid," Superboy says reasonably, as if that is at all reasonable. Match stares blankly at him. Then he looks at Spence, and then the directors. None of them look any less mystified than he currently feels.

"I'm superior to you," he reminds Superboy, narrowing his eyes at him. "An upgraded model."

"Well, yeah, I'd hope so," Superboy says with a shrug, gesturing at him once before folding his arms. "That's the whole thing with kids, right? You want them to be better than you."

Match is officially certain that this idiot is insane. And also stupid.

[suzukiblu]

Ahhhhhhh, loving “congratulations it’s a metaweapon”! WIP Wednesday for that please? 🙏

"You're a pathetic child who doesn't understand his situation. And if you think you know anything about being a father, you've got another think coming, Superboy," Spence says coldly, her eyes still narrowed. 

"I'd worry more about his miserable bastard of a gene donor's ‘understanding’ of fatherhood," Beta mutters under her breath, low enough that Spence doesn't seem to hear her. Match . . . frowns. What does that mean? Superman isn't a parent and neither is Westfield, who's dead anyway, and Superboy doesn't have any other gene donors. Match doesn't know who she'd be referencing or what their "understanding" would entail, much less what it would have to do with what Superboy's doing right now. 

It almost sounds like she means one of them is somehow concerning as a parent and she's concerned about Superboy behaving similarly to them, but . . .

Superman and Westfield aren't parents, though. Are they? And even if they were, what does Director Beta know about them?

[suzukiblu]

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!, please it’s so interesting

"Bold words from an obsolete experiment," Alpha drawls, his lip curling derisively. 

"As are his claims to ownership of our property," Gamma agrees dryly. 

Beta still doesn't say anything. Match is starting to wonder why. 

"Don't call my kid fucking property, asshole!" Superboy snarls, clenching his fists again and visibly bristling. Very visibly–his costume is too tight to show any effects and he isn't wearing the standard jacket, but his hair is starting to float directionlessly. "And I already told you to stop talking like that!" 

Match is also wondering about the floating hair, under the circumstances. That seems to imply either an impending attack or a struggle with restraint, but no one else in the room seems concerned by that possibility. 

Director Beta, maybe. She still looks wary. 

Match doesn't know why, though.

[suzukiblu]

For WIP Wednesday: Congratulations it's a metaweopon!

“I said what I said,” Beta says, sparing Gamma a cool look. “Don't make a fuss about it.”

“You just told our newest product to go AWOL with an idiot teenager and you think I'm making a fuss?!” Gamma demands indignantly. Beta looks momentarily exasperated, then makes a show of brushing a bit of gravel off her jumpsuit.

“Match's father has made a perfectly reasonable request of us,” she says casually, though she's back to watching Superboy with the same wary eyes despite her tone. “And I'm not fool enough to deny it.”

“Are you insane?!” Alpha says. “We've spent months preparing this project, and you're going to throw it out over the delusions of an obsolete model?!”

“Shut up, both of you,” Beta bites off flatly, then gives Superboy an ice-cold but perfectly polite smile. “Thank you for your time, Superboy. Spence, please see our guest and his child out.”

Match has absolutely no idea what's happening here.