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#bodyswap AU
thlayli-ra · 1 month
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I am utterly obsessed with @comediakaidanovsky 's theory that Drew McIntyre's body is currently possessed by MJF. Just imagining all the torment he can unleash on Punk now that he's so much bigger and stronger than him. 😮‍💨
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
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bodyswap (steddie)
So, they beat Vecna. Nancy shoots him full of lead, El tears him apart from the inside, and Steve and Robin burn this version of the Creel House down with him in it. It’s over. It’s finally, finally over.
Steve ignores the reopened wounds in his side, racing to get back to Dustin and Eddie before the gates close forever. The ground rumbles again and all three of them stumble, Robin taking his hand and yanking him along when he falters. 
“You can pass out when we get topside!” She screams at him, and he tries to give her a thumbs up before he wraps that hand around his bleeding torso.
They get to the trailer park, but Dustin and Eddie aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Steve almost rips Robin’s arm out of her socket when he turns around and runs. 
“Dustin,” he bellows. There are dead demobats everywhere, and the mass of them on the ground thickens in a particular direction. He heads that way with a sinking feeling in his gut. “Dustin! We need to fucking move!”
“Steve!” He hears Dustin wail, and all self preservation leaves him as he bolts, landing heavily on his knees at Dustin’s side and immediately checking him over for injuries.
“Are you okay?” He gasps, holding his tearstained face in his hands. “Where are you hurt? Show me.”
Dustin shakes his head, crying harder, and that’s when Steve notices the limp body right in front of him. 
Eddie coughs up blood. “Wow, Harrington,” he grins, “nice to see that you care.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” It’s bad. Steve goes into preservation mode, stripping off his jacket and shirt and using them to press down on the many, many bites littering Eddie’s body. He senses Robin and Nancy catch up behind him, and hears Nancy gasp.
“What do you need?” She asks, dropping down on Eddie’s other side.
“Robin and Dustin need to find a new way to get through the portal,” he says, looking over at them. “I can’t carry him and use the rope.”
“Rope’s gone, anyway,” Dustin mutters. “He cut it.”
“You cut the rope?”
Eddie shrugs as much as he can. “Seemed..” he coughs again, red and wet, “…like a good idea…at the time.”
“Stupid,” Dustin corrects angrily. “It was really fucking stupid.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Nancy says frantically. Robin nods, and takes Dustin away swiftly. Steve files Dustin’s limp in the back of his mind for later. “What do I need to do?”
“Help me keep him from bleeding out,” Steve says as he gathers Eddie into his arms. Eddie turns and nuzzles his face into Steve’s chest. It’s weird, but at least he’s alive to do it. “I might need help walking, too.”
“Right.” She examines him worriedly. “On three?”
He heaves Eddie up on the count of three, and Eddie whines, long and pained. “Sorry,” Steve gasps, the wounds on his side tearing. “Sorry.”
“S’kay,” Eddie mumbles, closing his eyes. He doesn’t open them again, and Steve jostles him.
“Hey, no passing out on me, got it? Keep those eyes open for me.”
The last thing he can remember is feeling Eddie’s blood mixing into his, their open wounds pressed together. Then he blacks out.
He wakes up in a hospital bed.
Dustin is beaming at him, teary and happy like Steve’s never seen him before. Not even when he agreed to play one campaign with the scoops troop, and admitted at the end that Dungeons and Dragons wasn’t that bad. Too much math and writing and thinking for him, it made his head hurt, but not, like, awful. 
Steve thinks he’d wake up in a million hospital beds if it meant Dustin always smiled like this. 
“—Robin’s with Steve, we’ve been taking shifts. Well, the rest of us have. She hasn’t actually left his side. He’s woken up a couple of times, like you, but you both fall right back asleep after,” Dustin’s saying, and Steve blinks, foggy. 
“…Steve?”
“Yeah, he collapsed after he carried you out. Went septic, because he didn’t take care of himself again like an idiot and his bites got infected.”
“Wait,” Steve says. “Is there another Steve? Were you hiding another Steve behind my back? Where’s Eddie?”
Dustin stares at him. “You are Eddie.”
“S’not funny, Henderson. I just woke up from a fuckin’ coma, I don’t need this shit right now.”
“Did the bats eat your brains?” He demands. “Shit, do you have brain damage? What’s wrong with you?”
Steve pouts. “That’s not funny, you know I do.” Dustin’s seen him through his fair share of migraines, knows more about what to do and what exactly causes them than Steve, probably. The perks of getting your ass kicked in front of the smartest eighth graders on the planet.
“They gotcha on the good stuff, huh kid?” A man says from the other side of his bed. Steve whips around, only just realizing that this guy is also holding his hand. There’s multiple hand-holdings going on here, which he knows is normal for hospitals but doesn’t know why this random stranger is doing it. Does he know Dustin? Is this the other Steve?
“Who’re you?”
He looks hurt by this, which makes Steve feel like a monster. But his brain won’t work, he’s definitely high on some kind of painkillers, Dustin is being confusing, and he’s tired. 
“That’s your Uncle Wayne,” Dustin reminds him. 
“I don’t have an uncle,” Steve replies, frowning. His parents are both only children, as far as he’s aware, and they don’t have any friends that would call themselves his uncle. Still, the name sounds familiar. “Doesn’t Eddie have an Uncle Wayne?”
“What the hell are you going on about?” Uncle Wayne asks. 
“You’re Eddie,” Dustin insists, confused and somewhat panicked. Now he knows how Steve feels. 
“No I’m not.” Steve scowls, sick of whatever game he’s playing to fuck with Steve’s head. “I’m Steve.”
Dustin’s eyes widen, and Steve gets the sinking feeling that something is very, very wrong. 
The door slams open.
“Dustin!” Robin hollers, eyes wild. “Something is wrong with Dingus! That’s not my dingus!”
“Robbie!” He says excitedly, and tries to sit up. Which goes poorly for him. Ow. 
She looks at him, and a diamonds worth of emotions crosses her face at once. “…Steve?”
“Yes,” he cheers. At least someone knows who he is. 
“How did you know?” Dustin demands. 
“I’d know that drugged up puppy-dog look anywhere,” Robin replies, eyes still on Steve. “Plus, there’s a guy in Steve’s body trying to tell Nancy what kind of campaign he could make out of this.”
“My body?” Steve asks, horrified, just as that Wayne guy says, “Now hol’ up just one second—“
Robin pulls a compact mirror out of her pocket and approaches the bed with caution. 
Wayne is ushered out, still loudly demanding answers for what the hell is going on with his nephew. Steve wishes he had them. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Robin says with a grin. “This is great.”
“Literally how,” Steve deadpans. 
“Well maybe not great for you, but I’m about to have the time of my life. Eddie, quick, say something nerdy.”
“What,” Eddie says flatly. It’s weird to see his expressions on Steve’s face. His face shouldn’t look like that, shouldn’t move like that. 
“C’mon,” she urges, “I wanna hear Steve’s voice talk about dnd, or your shitty music, or the moral majority.”
“Hey!” Steve objects. “We do talk about the moral majority.”
“Yeah, but we’re always serious about it. I wanna hear Munson give one of his tabletop speeches.”
Eddie looks baffled, which looks so different from the face Steve makes when he’s confused. It’s got the bare bones of it, but the finer details are off, trying to use a face that isn’t his. It’s creepy. Robin must agree, because she shudders a little. 
“You, Steve Harrington, talk about the moral majority?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended, at the same time Robin says, “Oh, you should hear him. It’s incredible.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie answers, and Steve huffs, throwing his hands up as much as he can when he’s stuck in a hospital bed. Which means he basically just makes a little gesture and hopes it gets the message across. 
“I don’t see what’s so shocking about it! A bunch of assholes declared that my kids were in a cult. They were going to hunt you down. Why would I be on their side?”
“I dunno, Stevie,” Eddie says, eyes glinting. “I guess it’s just a shock to me that the straight, rich-boy jock would have something to say about it. What’re they teaching you in those churches?”
He can’t quite stop the grimace that flashes across his face, meeting Robin’s eyes almost on instinct. Eddie’s eyebrows jut up. 
“What’d I say?”
“I haven’t been to church in two years, man,” Steve admits, avoiding the other glaring assumption. “Once you have to save the lives of kids from monsters that shouldn’t exist, God doesn’t really seem that great.”
It was for the better, really, that Steve had given up. No amount of praying or bargaining made him forget how Jonathan Byers’s hand felt in his as they ran for their lives. It didn’t stop the monsters from coming back either. 
Still, he hadn’t really stopped believing until Robin came out to him. He looked at her, this scared, brave girl who spit in the face of their torturers, the girl who Steve was pretty sure was his best friend, and quietly came to terms with the fact that if she was going to hell, there was never a god to begin with. 
Robin had cried when he told her that. 
Eddie is staring at him, eyes wide and searching. It keeps tripping him up, how different his own face is when someone else is wearing it. 
“You’d think seeing hell would make anyone a believer,” he says, voice wry. “You keep surprising me.”
Steve fidgets, staring down at his legs. “It was just…it was always a lose-lose situation, you know? Either I stop going to church and go to hell, or I do what they want and end up there anyway. I can’t be what they want me to be, so why even try? There’s no point.”
When he looks up again, he meets Robin’s eyes first. She looks achingly fond, smiling at him as she gives his hand a squeeze. He gives a small smile back, and looks at Eddie. 
He’s wide-eyed, surprise coloring every inch of his face. Or, well, Steve’s face. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, that’s— that's exactly it.”
“Dude, does Jonathan scare you?”
“What?”
“Your body, like, goes haywire around him. He checked my—your—the injuries I’m currently sporting and I thought I was gonna die.”
Steve’s face heats up. “I’m not scared of Jonathan.”
“It’s ok, Steve, you can tell me the truth,” Eddie says, only a little bit of mockery in his tone. “I’ll protect you from Big Bad Byers.”
He closes his eyes in mortification. “I’m not scared,” he stresses, “of Jonathan Byers.”
“Really? Because I wasn’t joking about thinking I was dying. Your heart goes crazy around…him…” Eddie trails off, eyes widening as he clocks the blush spreading down Steve’s neck. 
Fuck Eddie’s pale skin, seriously. Steve’s tan enough that people barely notice, but Eddie seems like he spends a sunny day sitting in his room working on song lyrics or campaign notes. He wants his fucking body back. 
Shit, he’s in Eddie’s body, and Eddie just found out he’s queer. He’s a queer man in Eddie’s body. He’s going to think Steve’s some kind of perv, or using his dick, or…or…
“Byers?” Eddie finally says. “Of all the men in the world, Byers is the one you pick?”
Steve’s eyes pop open from where he’d squeezed them shut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
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demetera-kaziaik · 28 days
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Day One: Bodyswap!
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oldmannapping · 2 months
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Ficlet: Bodyswap (Dick-Jason and Tim-Steph)
Based on my own prompt, which wouldn't leave my brain.
This is a body-swap fic with only the awkwardness. None of the bonding. Just the weird uncomfortable parts. Okay maybe a little of the bonding.
Excerpt:
Across the Cave, a furious voice echoed off stalagmites and startled several bats.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME?!”
An indignant, and equally-bat-startling voice immediately responded.
“Why AREN’T you?!”
It seems there was an impasse.
It’s a tale as old as time. Batfamily meets warlock, warlock fumbles a spell, warlock disappears in a cloud of smoke, Batfamily realises they’re body-swapped…
You know. That old classic.
WARNINGS: Mentions of menstruation, mentions of sex drives and sexuality, swearing
Across the Cave, a furious voice echoed off stalagmites and startled several bats.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME?!”
An indignant, and equally-bat-startling voice immediately responded.
“Why AREN’T you?!”
It seems there was an impasse.
It’s a tale as old as time. Batfamily meets warlock, warlock fumbles a spell, warlock disappears in a cloud of smoke, Batfamily realises they’re body-swapped…
You know. That old classic.
Dick and Jason were glaring at each other. Themselves. Each other, in each other’s bodies. You've got it, it's not your first rodeo right?
It’s been three days since the unfortunate warlock incident. As well as Jason and Dick, Tim and Stephanie have also been body-swapped in a move that seemed particularly designed by the spell/universe to cause maximum rage to Steph and mortification to Tim.
Jason and Dick have refused to allow the team to be locked down because Fuck Off, You Can’t Tell Me What To Do (Jason) and Bruce For The Good Of The Team We Need Some Space Because If We Murder Each Other It Will Be Bad For Morale (Dick).
Bruce might have held out for longer but Alfred’s visiting family in England and without his arched brow of British judgement, Bruce tends to let his children pick whichever course of action seems like it will cause the least about of hassle to Bruce’s personal routine.
He didn’t love them in the Cave 24/7 either. He’s had to ship Cass and Damian off to one of his nicer safehouses because having to manage four moody, hormonal, body-swapped vigilantes was hard enough without the mental load of school pickups and packed lunches. He misses Alfred. He’s hiding in his office at the moment, getting more Wayne Enterprises work done than he has in years.
Jason and Dick, and Tim and Stephanie, have spent three days in each other’s bodies, absolutely not patrolling or going anywhere that they’re likely to be recognised, but exercising and getting coffee and generally behaving like prisoners on day release. Zatanna has assured them that these sorts of spells usually fizzle out after less than a month, so it’s just a waiting game.
Apparently, they are bored. Apparently, they’re getting on each other’s nerves again.
Jason, in Dick’s body, has just raked his hands through his hair and pulled it nearly hard enough to rip it out.
“Why are you so HORNY ALL THE TIME!?” he has bellowed.
Dick’s reaction is to pull Jason’s body to its full height in indignation. “Why AREN’T you?” he shouts back.
Jason is at the end of his rope. “Everyone you see!” he says, pointing a finger at Dick. “I was just going for a fucking RUN. I just wanted some exercise, because this fucking body can’t go three minutes without goddam MOVING. And it just wouldn’t SHUT UP.”
He’s so mad. He continues: “This fucking body checks out EVERYONE. You’re constantly just sizing people up and thinking about boning them. ALL THE FUCKING TIME.”
Dick is also mad. “That’s not true!” he rebuts. “I notice people! We’re trained to be observant! Yeah, one of the things I notice about them is attraction. That’s NORMAL. That’s what people DO. At least I’m not thinking about the best ways I could incapacitate some poor 15-year-old barista.”
Jason flares Dick’s nostrils. “I do NOT think about hurting kids.”
Dick scoffs. “No, you think about hurting EVERYONE. Everyone you see is a threat. How could I take this person down? Am I stronger than this person? Is that lady hiding a gun in that baby stroller? All day long! You think that’s normal? You think that’s better than noticing if someone’s attractive?”
“It’s more fucking useful, especially in our line of work. You think you’ll ever save the day with a heroic boner?”
“Oh my god stop talking about it!”
“I wish I could stop THINKING about it! I had to SHOWER in this goddam body. Do you know how hard it is to ignore someone else’s boner in your shower? I nearly punched myself in the dick, pun fucking intended.”
Dick makes Jason’s teeth grind. “Do NOT break my penis.”
Jason points at Dick again like he’s a giant disobedient dog. “I will get your FUCKING nipples pierced if this body has one more hard on. I’m not fucking around.”
Dick flails Jason’s huge arms. His fluid, lithe movements look very out of place on a muscle-bound heavyweight. Almost campy. “I have literally ZERO control over that right now. You realise that right? You realise you sound ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who conditioned your body to be like this. Make it stop!”
“I don’t know if you forgot about this part of puberty or if you were just too busy being angry and emo and FARTING to notice, but boners are a fact of life, suck it up.”
“Firstly, some of us actually eat vegetables - YOU need more fibre in your diet, Grayson, don’t get me started on that – and secondly, sorry I didn’t condition myself to repress freakish amounts of lust. I must have been too busy DYING and being RESURRECTED and BRAINWASHED BY THE LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS.”
“Oh my god WE GET IT, YOU DIED. You cannot use that to win every argument. Stop being so angry in my body, I can feel how gross and grouchy yours is all the time and I don’t want you infecting mine.”
“That’s funny, since I’m probably keeping your body the cleanest it’s been since you were fifteen, you horny maniac.”
“There’s a difference between feeling attraction and acting on it! It’s NORMAL to notice people in a sexual way! Don’t shame me!”
“Stop saying ‘attraction’, this is not attraction, this is Ivy-level mind-fogging crotch-throbbing run-ruining-“
“Just because all YOU think about is violence and murder, don’t get mad at me for having a sex drive!”
“I’m not mad at you for having a sex drive! I’m mad at you for making ME have your sex drive!”
“I didn’t cast this spell!”
“I know!”
“There’s nothing wrong with being sexual and expressing it with whoever I want, as long as they’re consenting!”
“I know! I support you! I couldn’t give a fuck who you bone and I don’t want to think about it, but I support it!”
“Good!”
“Good!”
Steph and Tim are standing a few feet away, watching hypnotically. Steph uses Tim’s bony elbow to nudge him in her ribs. She whispers something to him and he snorts a laugh, then freezes.
“Um,” he says in Steph’s voice, expression tight. “I think you might need to teach me how to use a tampon. Or, uh. Sanitary pad. Whichever you’re most comfortable with. Or. Um. Maybe your body just peed? Many women develop incontinence after childbirth, so it’s fine, I just. Uh. I just want to know what I’m dealing with here.”
Steph gapes at him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She grabs her phone and swears when the fingerprint ID doesn’t work. Jabbing in her PIN, she swipes to her period tracker app. “Fuck. Un-fucking-believable.”
Ten minutes later, Steph and Tim emerge from the Cave’s bathrooms with grim expressions, not meeting each other’s eyes.
Tim, valiantly trying to remain scientific, offers, “I didn’t know it smelled different than normal blood.”
Steph digs Tim’s nails into his palms. “Stop talking.”
Tim cannot stop talking. “I just mean. I’ve been around a lot of blood, but never, you know. That kind of blood. And I never thought about how, in its basic composition, it’s not just blood, it’s also endometrial cells and cervical lining so of course it would be different.”
“Stop. Talking.”
Tim is a nervous talker. “And also, good idea on using the gloves and applicator. That way I didn’t have to touch any, um, you know, touch your, touch you when I was doing the. Yeah. Not that it would be gross or bad to touch you, I mean. You’re very. Great. And women are. So brave. Every month. But it’s just. You know. It’s not. I mean you consented, but in this situation, is it really consent, since this whole thing is kind of coercive, since you don’t REALLY have control over your-“
“SHUT UP!”
Dick and Jason raise their heads like meerkats from where they’ve ended up facing off with their phones, stubbornly shout-reading each other google search results for “normal male sex drive” and “how do I know if I’m asexual”.
“Everything okay over there?” asks Dick, Jason’s deeper voice carrying easily across the Cave.
“Fine!” say Steph and Tim in tandem.
“Totally natural and normal!” adds Tim helpfully. “We’re totally comfortable. We’re blossoming. We’re very healthy.”
Steph groans. “I cannot believe I used to date you.”
Part Two
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meebles · 11 months
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A snippet from my Codywan Bodyswap!AU that I’m working on:
Obi-Wan grunts, blinking as he comes to. His vision swims before it snaps to a sudden clarity. All at once, he realizes three things that are very, very wrong.
First, and most worryingly, he cannot feel the Force as he normally does. He’s not completely cut off, but only just.
Second, he’s certain he was in his quarters when he dozed off. Now he finds himself in a rarely-used storage room deep in the Negotiator’s sublevels, where the men keep their homebrew that Obi-Wan definitely doesn’t know about. He’s slumped against a wall, with the majority of Ghost Company peering down at him in various states of confusion.
Third, is that he’s certain his men just called him Cody.
“What… ?” he starts, staring down at his cuisse-clad thighs. Frowning, he moves to trace a finger across the stripe of gold paint running across the right, only to blink down at a hand that isn’t his own.
Ah, Sith hells.
“I think you should come to medical,” he hears Scabs say, and Obi-Wan agrees, but first they’ll have to go find—
“Oh, Force, Cody— ”
He ignores the odd looks the troopers give him, the reality of the situation suddenly gripping him like a vice. Cody, thrust into his body, but his mind untrained and unused to sensing the living Force that surrounds them—
“Scabs, I need you to get a sedative and meet me at— at the General’s room,” he states as he fully gathers himself upright, adjusting for his new center of gravity.
His CMO blinks at him. “What— the General? What are you— ?”
“I’ll meet you there and explain, just, please. A sedative,” he manages, already opening the doors. He looks back for a split-second to see Scabs nod in affirmative, before rushing out of the storage room.
Unfortunately, his own quarters are entirely on the other side of the venator. He runs past a few troopers, who startle at his haste, but he just calls back an all clear and doesn’t stop running, he needs to get to Cody—
After what feels like a tenday on a blessedly empty turbo-lift, Obi-Wan finally makes it to his quarters. He punches in the override and the door slides open, revealing the exact sight he feared— his own body, hunched over on the floor, clutching his head as he shakes—
“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling beside him, and Cody jolts, staring up at him with trembling eyes.
“Vod?” he asks in Obi-Wan’s voice, before his eyes widen impossibly further when they land on the scar at his temple, his own scar. “What is— augh!”
Obi-Wan curses under his breath, catching Cody as his eyes roll back, body slacking. He pulls him into his lap, resting his head as gently as he can against his armored thighs.
“Cody, my dear, it’s me, it’s Obi-Wan,” he says, holding Cody’s quavering form as still as he can. “Just focus on me, focus on my voice, just my voice, right here, with you.”
“Can’t— ” Cody spits out, head shaking. “It’s too much, I can’t— ”
“Shh, I know, I know. I’m so sorry, just try for me, please? Just try, it’s just me and you here together, no one else, just us… ”
Obi-Wan keeps muttering what’s probably nonsense, but he needs to give Cody some sort of anchor, something to focus on instead of the thousands of living souls he can suddenly sense aboard the ship, something present and definite in the entirety of the Force that he’s now privy to.
Cody groans, pressing himself further into Obi-Wan’s lap. “Please, make it stop, make it stop— ”
“Cody— what happened to the General?!”
Obi-Wan looks up and sees Scabs in the doorway, and bites back a sigh of relief. He’s about to explain when his medic is suddenly kneeling by his side, shaking his head.
“Fuck— that machine, it worked, didn’t it?” he says, opening his supply bag.
“Yes, it did.” Why the effects were so delayed, Obi-Wan has no idea, but right now it doesn’t matter. “And Cody— he’s not used to how my body senses the Force, it’s too much for him all at once.”
“I understand,” Scabs states, prepping the sedative. “Hold him steady, please. Bare his neck.”
Obi-Wan does as he’s told, chest clenching as he stares at Cody’s unseeing eyes. It’s a terrible solace when Scabs injects the needle and seconds later, they fall shut.
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zoeyhorse · 10 days
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Body swapped Twilght and Trixie
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lulublack90 · 19 days
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Prompt 8 - Bodyswap AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 8, word count 1209
CW- Cronic Illness, Child Abuse (Not described, but you know what's happened).
Sirius and Remus regularly bickered. It drove their other friends mad. Remus thought Sirius was a spoilt rich boy brat, and Sirius thought Remus put on how sick he felt because he loved the attention that came with it. 
The bickering got so bad one day that Remus shoved Sirius, and Sirius shoved him back. James had to come between them and break up the fight. Remus’s eye was swelling shut, and Sirius’s lip had burst open. 
“I wish you two could walk in each other’s shoes for a day. Maybe then you wouldn’t bicker so much.” They scowled at each other until it was time to go home. 
Remus awoke the following morning feeling better than he’d ever felt before. He stretched, and nothing hurt. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open onto an elegantly decorated room. 
“You are late for breakfast. If you are not presentable at the table in five minutes, there will be consequences!” A woman who wasn’t his mother screeched through the door. 
He got up and opened the ornately carved wardrobe. The clothes inside were not his and most definitely wouldn’t fit his tall frame. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed a perfectly ironed shirt and held it up to his body. He used the mirror on the back of the door to see how it looked. He dropped it on the floor. The reflection staring back at him was not his own. 
Sirius had never slept worse in his life. He felt like he had the flu. His joints ached no matter what position he slept in. The sun shone through too-thin curtains, stopping him from falling back to sleep. A gentle knock came at the door as it slowly opened. 
“Good morning, darling,” A sweet honey-haired woman cooed at him. “I’ve got you tablets and some toast. When you’re ready, I’ve got porridge keeping warm for you. Don’t rush, though, my love.” She opened the curtains and planted a kiss in his hair before she walked back out, closing the door behind her. 
Sirius panicked. Pills? What pills could he possibly need? He jumped out of the unfamiliar bed and rushed into the little bathroom across the hall. He stared at the boy in the mirror above the sink, higher up than he was used to. His hands came to his face, and so did the reflections. He pinched himself hard. It hurt a lot. So he wasn’t dreaming. 
“Sweetheart, there’s a phone call for you.” The woman’s sweet voice called through the door. 
“C-c-coming,” He stuttered as he stumbled to the door. He took the portable house phone from her and put it to his ear. “Hello?” He said into the receiver. 
“Sirius!” 
“Remus!”
“What the hell is going on?” They said together. 
“Are you in my house?” Remus asked.
“I think so. Do you have blue striped bedding and a yellow lamp?” 
“Yes! And do you have a ridiculous wardrobe and an insanely gigantic bed?”
“Does it have green bedding?”
“Yep.”
“Oh my god, Remus! What the actual.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. His fingers came away too quickly. Remus’s hair was a lot shorter than Sirius’s. 
“Your mum seems like a lot,” Remus tried to make light of it like he always did. “Apparently, I was late for breakfast. I didn’t even know that was a thing. Now, I’m meant to be self-studying. Then there’s a Latin tutor. Sirius, I don’t speak Latin!”
“Yeah, she doesn’t abide laziness. Your mum seems lovely, though. She brought me toast and some pills. What are they for?” Sirius followed Remus’s example. 
“Oh, you need to take them. Believe me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” Remus warned. 
“Sirius, where have you gone?!” Sirius heard his mother’s voice over the phone and flinched. 
“Remus, you need to hang up now and go do whatever it is you were meant to be doing.” He couldn’t help the touch of panic in his voice. 
“What are you on about? I’m only on the phone.” Remus chuckled back at him. Sirius heard his mother’s heels click against the hardwood flooring. 
“Remus,” He whispered in a shaky voice. The line went dead. 
Sirius knew what was about to happen to Remus, and he wished he could take his place. He snatched up the pills off the bedside table and swallowed the lot. This he could do for Remus, at least.
Mrs Lupin beamed at him when he walked into the kitchen. 
“Oh, love. You look a bit pale. Why don’t you go snuggle up on the sofa, and I’ll get you some tea? She fussed over him all day, making sure he was comfortable. He had full control over what they watched on the TV, and she never uttered the word homework. He was glad he didn’t have to do too much, as his body felt so delicate. Plus, with the bad night’s sleep, he was exhausted. “How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” She asked when it began to get late. 
“Yeah, Mrs—Er, yeah, mum. That sounds perfect.” He smiled at her.
He asked to go up to his room after they’d finished eating. 
“Of course, you can silly. I don’t know why you’re even asking. Oh, don’t forget to take your evening pills before you go up,” Sirius did as he was told. The stairs were hard to get up. He was out of breath before he’d gotten halfway up. 
He spent the next hour doing all of Remus’s homework for him. By the end, he just got into bed and passed out. 
When he woke again, it was morning. His alarm was blaring next to his head, and his emerald sheets were wrapped around him in a tight ball. He could feel the bruises. She’d proper walloped him this time. He wondered if Remus had talked back at her. 
He got ready for breakfast, but before he could leave his room. Regulus came in. And for the first time in years. He hugged Sirius and hurried back out when Walburga’s shoes clacked across the hallway floor. Monday couldn’t come quickly enough.
Remus, for once, got up early and arrived at school before any of his friends. He watched the town car pull up and deposit Sirius and Regulus onto the curb. 
Regulus hugged Sirius and disappeared off into the building. Sirius and Remus stared at each other. Sirius moved first and gently wrapped his arms around Remus, knowing now how much that body ached and why he needed the extra care the school gave him. Remus gripped him as tight as he could. He’d had no idea how bad Sirius had it. His parents made their lives look so perfect. 
Sirius sucked in a breath when Remus squeezed against one of the bruises. 
“Oh, shit, Sirius. I’m so sorry.” Remus panicked, loosening his hug. 
“No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Sirius knew how much effort Remus was putting into that hug. 
“Aww, isn’t this sweet?” James smirked as he walked up to them. “Nice to see you hugging rather than fighting.” Sirius and Remus looked at each other, smiling happily at each other. Finally, they realised there was so much more to each other than they ever could have guessed.     
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spilledkaleidoscope · 7 months
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in the body swap au do you think harry's paralyzed jaw gives kim a hard time? i mean harry's had pretty much his whole life to learn how to work with it and it still affects his speech patterns and stuff, so i assume kim's affected by it even more
Interesting thought! I guess that's how it would happen and everyone around them would just assume the slurred speech means he's drunk. But I mean, Harry might be affected as well because how he *doesn't* have to compensate for the paralyzed jaw. Combine that with attempting to do Kim's accent and that's a whole mess too
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spilledjelly · 3 months
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Welcome to:
Scar royally fucks up and managed to body swap all the other hermits
Here we are starting off with Kermumbo
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flowerbloom-arts · 24 days
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Based on a Sniff/Snufkin bodyswap concept I made ages ago.
I would argue that Sniff and Snufkin are selfish in a similar amount but fundamentally different ways. Snufkin would rather retreat within himself and abandon his friends when it's convenient to preserve his own comfort while Sniff is willing to use his friends as a means to an end. Sniff literally sells out Moomintroll in the first comic strip story while Snufkin tends to run away when the Moomins come across something he doesn't agree with, that's the point of difference
Sniff has a goal he'll do anything to achieve and Snufkin would rather preserve his own comfort and lend a hand when it's easy for him, that's an ambition vs inertia dynamic.
And Sniff in some stories does what he does, atleast initially, as a way to help Moomintroll most of the time, but eventually it devolves into him simply serving himself. The evolution of his character motivation in Moomin and the Railway is the perfect example of this.
And Snufkin's only point of activism/goodness besides his kindness towards Moomintroll and occasionally children and some others is his anti-park keeper terrorism which, in the book as far as I remember, didn't explicitly have a noble goal to begin with like 2019 tried to give him with the whole "nature shouldn't be privatized" motive
Sniff wants some sort of change, even if it's just for himself most of the time, and Snufkin actively works to keep the status quo (atleast that he agrees with) alot
Ambition vs inertia.
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characcoon · 11 months
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“I say we use this thing before we think too much about it.” Donnie shakes the dodecahedron. “So we can pretend nothing has happened and spend the next couple of weeks avoiding each other like the Plague.”
Change of Perspective - Chapter 24
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augustjustice · 3 months
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"Steddie Bodyswap" for wip weekend please!
Thank you so much for the ask, and about one of my pet projects, too! 🖤💛
“Have fun at school today, Robs, Eddie spaghetti! Ace those tests, don’t take any suspicious looking candy from strangers,” Eddie sing-songed, wagging a finger at them in a parody of scolding suburban parenthood, and, oh, clearly he thought he was goddamn hilarious. 
While Robin’s brow wrinkled in amused confusion, Steve discreetly shot him the bird. 
Eddie’s only answer was to grin, sending him a knowing wink. “All I’m saying is...try not to do anything I wouldn’t do!”
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bad-tf-fic-ideas · 4 months
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(101) After a very very secret tryst, Megatron and Optimus Prime swap bodies. They have a rushed conversation and agree to keep it to themselves while they find the stupid artefact that did this to them.
Megatron must practice being kind to his Autobots, and that's bad enough, but Optimus Prime is probably going to be assassinated by the weekend.
However, the important part about this fic is that it alternates between the points of view of Megatron or Optimus and the points of view of their various subordinates while they each flex their dubious acting chops.
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moxx-n-angel · 1 month
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What I thought when I saw "Swap Mode" (edited by me)
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oldmannapping · 2 months
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Fic: Bodyswap (Part 2)
Part One
Based on my own prompt about wanting a body-swap fic that dealt with the gross embarrassing parts.
This has expanded into something more than I intended, but I can't stop writing.
It's a Dick-Jason, Tim-Steph bodyswap. There is literally no plot. They're body-swapped and trying to deal with it, that's it. No pairings, past Steph/Tim.
It's crack treated like crack. It's two parts for now but I might add more. Warnings for language, discussions of menstruation, discussions of sexuality.
EXCERPT:
“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”
Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.
Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.
“Timothy.” Somehow, she makes Tim’s voice growl almost as low as Batman’s. “PMS is not JUST anything. When women say that they are tired. Sad. Having cravings. Not themselves. We are not just making excuses to lie in bed and let the patriarchy win.”
Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.
Bruce rubs his forehead, eyes pinched closed. He’s only been in the Cave for six minutes and he’s already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
“So you can read each other’s minds?” he clarifies, still not opening his eyes.
“No,” Jason snaps derisively.
“Not really,” says Dick dick-lomatically. (Duke used that word ONE TIME and no one has ever let it go.) “It’s more like… familiar thought patterns? I’m still me, with my memories and thoughts, but I’ve got Jason’s… knee jerk reactions. His instincts. It’s hard to describe.”
“I haven’t noticed anything like that,” says Tim, peering at the older men with curiosity. “I haven’t run too many experiments yet though. I’m planning all sorts of cognitive testing and brain scans but I’ve been really foggy-headed and haven’t been able to put it together like I normally would.”
He frowns. “Now that I think about it, maybe that’s a symptom in itself. Could it be that the spell actively smothers attempts to break it? I was writing a program to analyse the results of some basic nerve conduction studies yesterday and I got so tired I had to have a nap. When I woke up, I was ravenous and completely forgot about the studies. This is fascinating. Bruce, is there any precedent for spells that are self-protecting like that? This could be something we should consult Zatanna about, or maybe even Constantine…”
“Yo, Boy Genius,” interrupts Steph, clicking Tim’s fingers in front of her own face. “That wasn’t the spell. Brain fog, fatigue, increased appetite? Congratulations, you’ve just discovered PMS.”
Tim is aghast. Jason has barked a surprised laugh and Dick and Bruce seem baffled.
“That, that can’t be right,” Tim insists. “You don’t understand Steph, I was operating WAY below my usual capacity. This wasn’t just a little brain fog. I was having a hard time with codes that I’d normally be able to do in my sleep. I forgot the word for “synthesise”. I took a two-hour nap then ate half a rotisserie chicken. I threw my keyboard across the room and then cried when it broke.”
“That was my chicken,” says Dick in a small, sad voice. Jason’s body needs a LOT of protein.
“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”
Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.
Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.
“Timothy.” Somehow, she makes Tim’s voice growl almost as low as Batman’s. “PMS is not JUST anything. When women say that they are tired. Sad. Having cravings. Not themselves. We are not just making excuses to lie in bed and let the patriarchy win.”
Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.
Steph’s not done. “We are not weak. We are not hysterical, moody hypochondriacs with wandering wombs. We are experiencing the VERY REAL mental and physical and emotional effects of our bodies preparing to have a BABY and then overhauling itself by EJECTING AN ENTIRE BABY HOUSE out of our vaginas.”
She’s still not done. Tim’s trying not to breathe in case that makes her angrier.
“I’ve gone on patrol with a heat pack strapped under my costume. I’ve sat exams on days when I can’t remember which bus I usually take. I’ve cried in the bathroom at work and wiped my eyes, reapplied my mascara, and gone back out there because I’m a fucking woman and that’s what we’re doing every single freaking day while you assholes are telling us that we’re biologically designed to earn 35% less than you.”
Tim opens Steph’s mouth and all the other men in the room know that whatever he's about to say is going to be a mistake. “I don’t think women should earn less than men,” is what he lands on.
Bruce decides to speak up before Steph can reply. He's very brave. “So we can reasonably assume that the spell isn’t actively trying to prevent anyone from breaking it,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it doesn’t transfer thoughts and memories, but engrained thought patterns and autonomous reactions.”
Dick is very happy to be back on topic. “Yeah, basically.”
“What are some examples?” asks Bruce, walking to the Batcomputer and pulling up a spreadsheet.
Jason and Dick glower at each other silently, not wanting a rehash of their previous argument. This whole situation was dignity-shattering enough.
Dick coughs. “Jason and I have noticed,” he says carefully, “that we have each other’s automatic reflexes to situations. I’ve noticed that my aggression levels are up. I’m always wanting to scan the room for a threat. Jason’s noticed similar things about my body’s reactions.” He hopes that’s enough detail.
Bruce hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think it’s just your bodies,” he muses, typing rapidly. “It could be your brains – your actual, physical brains, not your consciousness or whatever’s been transferred by the spell. Brains like patterns and routines. It makes them effective. It seems that while your consciousnesses have been transplanted, the structure of each of your brains has remained unchanged.”
“Has anyone studied this before?” asks Tim, pulling up his phone and tapping away. “It makes sense but I’ve never heard of body-swapping having this particular wrinkle before.”
“It sounds like your bodies’ hormone levels remained the same too,” says Bruce awkwardly, glancing at Tim-in-Steph’s-body’s abdomen with faint alarm. “Of course, we’ll need to run further tests but that shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve already been taking daily bloods…” He hums again and opens several more browsers, muttering to himself.
-_-
“TESTING!” booms Bruce’s voice suddenly, two hours later. He looks around. He is alone in the Cave. He presses the intercom. “Alfred, could you gather the kids and tell them- Dammit!” He misses Alfred so much. Bruce sighs and dials Dick’s phone, calling his children back to the Cave.
Once they’re assembled, he starts again.
“TESTING.”
They’re standing in a circle on the mats. Jason’s pointedly holding his phone where Dick can see the screen as he scrolls through nipple piercing and tattoo websites. Dick is trying to focus politely on Bruce. Tim and Steph are glowering grumpily next to each other.
Bruce ignores their moods. He claps his hands. He’s excited for testing. Testing is one of his favourite parts of weird magic times.
“Dick!” he says, pointing. “Unlock Jason’s phone.”
Rolling his eyes, Jason locks his phone and hands it off to Dick. Dick starts to hold it up to his/Jason’s face when Bruce says, “No, with the PIN. Don’t think about it, just see if you can do it with muscle memory.”
Dick looks back to the phone and stares for a beat. Then, his thumbs move rapidly to swipe through a nine-digit code. The phone unlocks.
“Motherfucker,” Jason swears, grabbing his phone back.
“You didn’t know the code before now?” confirms Bruce. Dick shakes his head. “What is it?”
Dick frowns, then shrugs. “I have no idea. My thumbs just-“ He mimes typing on a phone. “It was too quick for me to catch all the numbers.”
“Fascinating.” Bruce is so excited to add to his spreadsheet. He pulls something out of his pocket and throws it to Steph.
She catches it automatically. “Okay? We know we all have good reflexes?”
“You caught it with your left hand,” points out Bruce. “Even though that meant you had to reach across your body. Even though you, Stephanie, are right-handed, this body is not. This body’s brain and mind are still wired to have Tim’s reflexes even if you’re the one in conscious control.”
The four affected youths eye each other warily.
Bruce pulls out a folder. “I’ve printed some pictures to show you. I want you to give me your automatic reactions to these images, don’t overthink it.”
He goes through both benign and personal pictures. It turns out that seeing Dick’s favourite food makes Jason’s mouth water. Seeing Steph’s old childhood toy gives Tim, in her body, a jolt of nostalgic nausea even though he’s never seen the tatty bear before. (“How do you even have a picture of Mr Huggins?” asks Steph. “Creeper.”) Seeing a playground makes Tim’s body anxious and Jason’s body prickle with protective anticipation.
They all thoroughly agree that Bruce is weird for making them do all of this and then immediately disband to run secret individual experiments on their own.
-_-
“This body!” snaps Jason. “This body is so NEEDY!”
Dick groans. “What now?”
Jason paces restlessly. “First it needs to move all the damn time. I always thought you were fidgeting and doing handstands off tables and shit to be annoying, but you really can’t help it.”
Dick shrugs. “It’s been kinda weird to be in your body and not feel like that. I keep thinking I’m forgetting something but it’s just that I haven’t moved in a while and usually that’s a problem. No wonder you don’t mind long stakeouts.”
“No wonder you hate them,” Jason agrees. “It’s not even that this time. It’s this weird, like, almost itching. Like a shortness of breath. You’re not allergic to anything are you?”
He stalks over to his own body and frowns up at his own face. “Huh,” he says. “You’re not afraid of me. Zero fear response. You’re an idiot.”
Dick rolls Jason’s eyes. “Yeah yeah, you’ve very scary and edgy. Such an ambiguous anti-hero. Dear me, I hope he doesn’t snap one day. Etcetera.”
Jason shoulder-checks him (ineffectively) and storms over to where Tim and Steph are sending each other triggering images over text to see who will break first. Steph’s just sent Tim a picture of a happy family on vacation with the caption “not u lol” when Jason reaches them.
They stare at Jason blankly as he gets up in their personal space. They’re used to Dick being close to them so it doesn’t feel weird, but they know it’s JASON, so it IS weird. Jason grabs Steph-as-Tim’s arm and holds it for a moment. He grunts and releases it. He turns to Tim-in-Steph, an odd look on his face. He reaches for Tim’s arm but the movement seems to get away from him and he ends up grabbing Tim around the shoulders with one arm, holding him in close.
“What are you doing?” yelps Tim, struggling briefly.
“I have no idea,” says Jason, who seems equally baffled but isn’t letting go.
“Holy moly,” says Steph. “You two are tragic. Dick’s body needs a HUG, morons.”
Jason and Tim freeze. They simultaneously realise that this isn’t a strange new grappling move. This is a hug. Oh no they’re hugging. They don’t hug. They’re not huggers.
Dick snickers, coming over to view the scene. “I could have told you that,” he informs Jason.
“It’s not allergies?” says Jason, shuffling around to look at Dick without letting go of Tim. “Your body wanted a HUG? What are you, a toddler?”
“Hugs aren’t childish,” scolds Steph mildly, taking photos on her phone even though they will never capture the true awkwardness of a Tim-and-Jason hug. “Heaps of people need touch to feel good. Hugs, cuddles, patting a pet, whatever. Dick’s a hugger, you already knew that.”
“I knew he liked hugging, I didn’t know he needed it to live,” bites Jason, trying to appear nonchalant and cool while embracing Tim to his chest like a doll. “Why is this body hugging you? Steph, I mean. Why not just go for the closest person?”
Steph and Dick roll their eyes. “Jason, when was the last time you and I hugged?” Dick asks. Jason glowers.
Steph nods. “Dick and I hug all the time, dude. You two aren’t cuddly. That’s cool. Whatever. Tim lets me use him as a pillow at movie night so I’m happy. Dick’s body probably feels more comfortable with mine than the others here.”
“Plus, girls are so nice for hugs,” Dick adds. “So nice and soft. So snuggly and safe.”
That does it. Tim and Jason break apart and swiftly put eight feet of space between them. The incident is swiftly added to the Never To Be Spoken About Again list, which is growing longer by the day.
-_-
The end? To be continued? Who even knows.
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meebles · 7 months
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Last Line Challenge
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).
Tagged by @frostbitebakery thank you!!
Meant to do this earlier but I was waiting for bodyswap AU inspiration to hit and it finally did :D
This is much more than a last line, so I'm also counting this as one of my WIP poll results. It's a direct continuation of this Codywan Bodyswap!AU snippet found here
The way Cody comes awake— terribly slow and sluggish— is how he knows something is very wrong. By nature, he’s a light sleeper. Hard not to be, when one is fighting a galactic war. So once Cody fights through the haze of his mind to find his wits, he understands the haze itself means he’s drugged up, which can only mean he’s in the damned medbay— He blinks open, suspicions confirmed by the bright white, sterile lighting that’s nearly blinding him. He grunts, turns his head, and— Oh, no. It shouldn’t be so disconcerting, staring at his own face. Theoretically, he does so every day of his life, probably at least a hundred times a day. But there’s something so wrong about staring at that scar on his temple, the armor markings— his markings, perhaps the only thing that’s ever been truly his— staring at them through this strange, warped perspective— It comes back to him, suddenly and severely. One minute he’d been drinking with other officers down in storage, and the next he was— well, he couldn’t recall where exactly, the only thing he remembers is what felt like a thousand other people inside his head, so many feelings and emotions and sensations rushing through his mind, an overwhelming bombardment that was too much too much too much— And then, Obi-Wan. He remembers initially mistaking his voice (Cody’s own voice) for another vod, until it so clearly and obviously Obi-Wan. Like a beacon in the mist he’d been there, offering a guiding hand, trying to help him, talk him through. In the moment, he can’t say it was very effective, but looking back through the thick, harried confusion, he more than appreciates the effort. And now, as he looks up, he recognizes that distinct expression of Obi-Wan’s concern— it’s one he’d recognize anywhere, even now, on a completely different face.
Tagging (no pressure ofc): @ferretrade @insertmeaningfulusername @afoundling @dontbelasagnax @happybean17 @foreverchangingfandomsao3 @elismor @petrifiedforests @thebrainofoctavian @mxopifex @lttrsfrmlnrrgby @jedi-enthusiast and anyone else who wants to!
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