solani-ao3

[solani-ao3]

Absolutely amazing art! Thank you so much!!!

My friend and I very much enjoy reading the fics that @solani-ao3 cooks up, and their latest fic, "Before the Hour," has been absolutely amazing! So, I had to make some art for the fic. >w>

[solani-ao3]

That's a lot of words for someone calling my friend and I unemployed

[solani-ao3]

New work Before the Hour is up!

[solani-ao3]

This is the longest Harley fic I've ever written and it's not even done yet

[solani-ao3]

Before the Hour (collab) - excerpt

*Written in collaboration with Dovey (@prototype1006defense) . This particular scene was written by her

“Do you really think that we all just started hating you the moment you became 1354?” Bruno asked. “Or do you think that was the moment we all finally got to act the way we really wanted around you?”

Harley just crossed his arms. “Talk all you want. You just reveal more of your own slimy, ungrateful character and the rest of the louses in this lab.”

“Well, I guess that’s how it would look to you. With your ‘lack of humility’ and all.” White countered coldly.

Elliot stiffened. Was Bruno… quoting… his… no, that couldn’t be right.

Sawyer flinched but retaliated as hard as he could. “I repeat,” he hissed. “Do you have any practical purpose to lecturing me about… about…” his voice grew slightly smaller, though Elliot was sure it wasn’t conscious on his part, given how he was still doing everything in his power to be intimidating. Strong. Composed. “That.”

What scientific document could possibly have the power to invoke that reaction from The Doctor? But, Elliot told himself, it couldn’t be his letter, either. He didn’t know why the thought had even occurred to him. Maybe because White seemed to have been quoting it a moment ago? But either way, surely the document held in White’s hand, held up to Harley’s face so that he needed to keep it in his vision in order to keep his eye contact with White, could not have been the letter Elliot slaved over.

Elliot’s letter hadn’t worked. Harley had none of his apologies and gentle overtures, the lesson the letter brought. And when they had met again, well… he hadn’t acted like a man who had learned anything from his expulsion from the program.

Anyway, Elliot had slaved over it, taking every precaution to make it as gentle and kind as he possibly could. There was no way his letter could have any effect on Harley, good or bad. At least, that’s what it seemed.

Elliot couldn’t see White’s face at this angle, but he could hear the smugness in his reply: “Wouldn’t you like to know? I just might, but if I did, I wouldn’t be at all obligated to tell you. I am the Head of The Secondary Laboratory after all. And if I didn’t? Well, who cares? As long as I get my work done, who cares if I use the most advanced tool at my disposal for some downtime?”

“I care.” Sawyer asserted. “And no matter what I am, where would you be without me?”

That actually gave Bruno pause, and Elliot was surprised at how pleased he was at Sawyer’s win, albeit small.

“I think I would be right where I am.” Bruno snapped defensively. “They don’t just hand positions like mine out to anyone. And they don’t do what they did to you to just anyone. Not anyone we actually respect or care about. Can you name anyone who truly feels either of those things towards you? And don’t name someone who didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Why do I have to answer that?” Harley asked, trying to sound calm. “This doesn’t sound research related at all.”

“Again, Dr. Sawyer, it-”

“I’m not answering until you tell me. Is this work related?”

White’s shoulders bunched and his voice became annoyed. “You know what? Fine. Be that way. Disobey me. But I don’t even have to check in your mind to know you know I’m right. Nobody has ever cared about you.” A pause. “Alright, perhaps that’s not quite right.”

Sawyer stood up a bit straighter, looking pleased. Letting his guard down.

“Nobody,” White said, with a deliberate, meaningful glance at the document, “Who’s ever gotten to know you cares about you.”

[solani-ao3]

harley sawyer more like harley see-a-therapist

Petition for Harley to see a therapist even if we have to drag him kicking and screaming

[solani-ao3]

*inhales deeply* ahhh I just love the smell of depressed computer man

Smells like... horrific unresolved trauma!

[solani-ao3]

[AU]

Worst Kind of "Good"

something very short with Harley and Prototype because I wanted to draw Prototype. that's all

haha father and son arguing

[solani-ao3]

Shut Down - excerpt

[solani-ao3]

New work 'On the Edge' is up!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65973733

[solani-ao3]

New work 'On the Edge' is up!

[solani-ao3]

I just wanted to say that I love your PPT fics you're like one of my favorite authors! The way you write Harley Sawyer and Elliot Ludwig is so heartbreaking yet absolutely beautiful at the same time

You do Harley Sawyer angst like no one else!

Aw thank you so much! 🥰 I'm happy to hear you enjoy my works!

[solani-ao3]

Maybe the real friends we made was the doctor we lobotomized on the way

😆 that's funny

[solani-ao3]

Silence of the Cell - excerpt

The door slammed open.

Harley flinched at the noise. His voice box let out a small, garbled noise of panic.

Leith was angry. Leith only ever came to visit him when he was angry.

He hoped it was blind angry. The kind where Leith came into the cell to beat him personally. The kind where he forgot Harley was not flesh and blood anymore, but metal and wires. It hurt less that way. One of the few benefits of this grotesque, robotic body he'd been put into. Leith's beatings hurt less than when he'd been human.

He hoped it was not controlled anger. The one where Leith used the console at his disposal to hurt him. Where he took his time dialing up the pain to unbearable levels, making Harley think he couldn't hurt any worse only to take the agony up another notch. Behind the console, Leith had all the power. Had direct access to Harley's nervous system, to his mind. Could hurt him so badly that Harley felt like he could die, wished he would die, but never did. Left to shriek and writhe and sob on the floor, his malfunctioning voice box emitting screams and desperate, unintelligible pleas for an end that Leith would never give him. Leith would never kill him. Even if he was a failure.

He hoped it wasn't one of those days.

It was.

When it was finally over he was a sobbing mess on the observation room floor. His entire body ached with the ghost of the agony he had just endured. He felt like dying. He wanted to die. He wanted all of this to be over for good.

Harley expected Leith to leave. Leith never lingered. He came, he vented his anger at him, and he left. Only to return the next time something set him off and he needed to hurt Harley to get his rage under control. He didn't expect the door to open instead. Didn't expect the sound of footsteps approaching him, or the soft hands that stroked down his arm, came to cradle the side of his screen.

“I'm sorry, Harley.” Leith whispered, and Harley couldn't stop himself from shuddering at the sound of that voice, no more than he could stop the soft whimper that escaped his malfunctioning voice box. “I had to hurt you. I've spoken to White this morning, and you know what he has told me? You're a lost cause. Your brain won't fully adapt to your new body. You won't regain your speech. You won't relearn how to write. He says it's a miracle you can even still understand spoken language! And all that wouldn't have mattered if we just had access to your mind. But alas, the damage is too great for our computers to be able to read your thoughts, to extract the information we need.”

Leith breathed a heavy sigh, thumb gently stroking over the edges of Harley's screen, making Harley reflexively shut his eye at the close touch.

“You know what he suggested? He said we should put you back on the operating table, Harley. He said we should put you out of your misery. We should strip you apart for parts, figure out what went wrong so we may avoid the same mistake in the future. You will never recover, you will never again be useful to us. He said our best course of action is to let you go like the rest of the failures.”

‘Please tell me you said yes,’ Harley thought, quaking beneath Leith's touch. ‘Please… I can't take it anymore… please tell me you're letting me go.’

Leith grinned, and Harley's nonexistent heart sank.

“I told him to go screw himself. You're mine, Harley. I was the one who brought you back to Playtime. I was the one who gave you your position of Head of Special Projects. I made you. Everything you've achieved is thanks to me. You owe everything to me. You belong to me. Did you really think I would let go of you so easily? Like Elliot had?” Leith laughed, an unpleasant, nauseating sound. Making Harley shudder and attempt to cringe away in revulsion. “Never.”

[solani-ao3]

Man and his colorful son

[solani-ao3]

The Cost of Failure - Chapter 4 excerpt

[solani-ao3]

I imagine eventually Harley or Elliot may want to say something that can’t be expressed with the flash cards and it’ll be interesting seeing how they work around that

Eventually, yes.

There will be a lot of things both of them will want to say to each other, including a conversation they'd want to have that's long been overdue. They're both extremely smart people and will find a way though.