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tadc-harlequin-au · 6 months ago

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"Greetings. Please, do enjoy your read, with the official Masterpost of..."

The Marvelous Mechanical Harlequin AU!

Looking for this AU's game counterpart? You can go to The Souls-like AU Masterpost for that!

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INTRO ANIMATIC:

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The long-awaited official masterpost of the Harlequin AU is now here! You'll find everything there is to know about the AU, all in here.

Please note that all of it is still a WIP! And this is NOT an RP blog! ══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

CHARACTER ROSTERS & DESC.!

Main Cast:

Supporting Cast:

"The names have the link to the full character biography attached to them. Please note that some aspects of it are still incomplete, (or may even be outdated) for story purposes."

Pomni, The Last Harlequin: |•| Caine, The Puppetmaster:

Coming soon!

Ragatha Azureus, Jax Jackson Jackrabbit, The Artifact Collector: The Mischievous Trickster Automaton:

Lady Gangle, The Bashful Slithery Chronicler:

Z, The No-nonsense Housesmith:

Kingr, The Helpful King:

BOSS ROSTERS, OFFICIAL STORY/LORE SNIPPETS, NON-CANON TIDBITS and FAQs BELOW THE CUT!

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BOSS ROSTERS:

The Lady of Forgotten Memories |•| The Skirmish General |•| The Last Formidable, Imposing Structure |•| The Mischievous Trickster Automaton |•| The Maddened Princess of the Theater |•| Bladed Beast of Steel and Shadows |•| The Pierrot of the Carnival Funhouse |•| The Celestial Twin Entertainers |•| Bandits of the Confectionary Highlands |•| Former Warden of the Labyrinth |•| Overlooker of the Confectionary Highlands |•| The Abstraction |•| Duchess of the Mildenhall Cliff's edge House |•| Proud Queen of the Gatherers |•| The Patriarch of Puppets |•|

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OFFICIAL STORY:

"Thrilling Order Of The Hunt" comic |•| Stalemate (fic) |•| Touch-Starved (Post-boss!Ragatha)

OFFICIAL LORE SNIPPETS:

The Charmer, The Catalyst and The Inventor |•| Memory#1 |•|

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OFFICIAL ARTWORKS:

Coming soon!

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LORE-RELATED ASKS:

You can go here for that!

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NON-CANON:

"Come Back To Me." (showtime, ao3) |•| Cade, The Miracle star (Showtime fankid) |•| Anya, The Little sensitive Poppet (Jesterdoll fankid) |•| The Lady of Forgotten Memories' defeat |•| Who Broke It (Harlequin AU edition) |•| The Hole (Harlequin AU edition) |•| "Chandelier" fanart (fanfic, suggestive ⚠️) |•| Morning routines |•| ⚠️The Puppetmaster's Trophy Harlequin (dark themes, nihilistic/no happy ending)⚠️ |•|

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FAQs!

"Now, what exactly is 'The Marvelous Mechanical Harlequin' AU?"

Well I'm glad you asked! The Marvelous Mechanical Harlequin, or "Harlequin AU" for short, is a grimdark sci-fantasy story about "Puppets", whom are soul-infused robots, trying to regain their lost humanity in a broken world.

It follows Pomni, a short-tempered Combat Harlequin, as she explores the city of Circuits with the aid of Caine, The Puppetmaster.

However, as the story progresses, Pomni not only realizes that there's more to the grand scheme of things as she explores more and more, she also uncovers The Puppetmaster's story, and what secrets he may be hiding.

"How do the boss fights go down in the story?"

Action-packed, fast paced, involves a lot of dying on Pomni's part.

Even though this is inspired by a Souls-like, the boss fights go down more so like a mixture between Cuphead, Shadow of the Colossus, and God of War (2018/Raganarok). Mostly God of War.

"Are there going to be canon ships in this AU?"

Yes! The AU is very Showtime (Caine x Pomni) centric, and some of the story aspects of the AU are heavily surrounded on that. There is a bit of Jesterdoll (Pomni x Ragatha) in it, too.

Aside from these canon ships, all is fair game. The Puppets don't have ages seeing as to how they are robots (and were already adults prior to their conversion), so the possibilities are endless.

"Can I make fanarts/fanfics/make original content for your AU?"

Why, of course you can! In fact, I would REALLY love to see it, as long as it complies with my personal boundaries below. So don't be afraid to tag this blog, or @iamespecter in your posts if you want me to see it!

"What are the boundaries of the AU?"

Go wild! The AU's rating is pretty mature, if it wasn't obvious already for it's grimdark genre.

However... I would like to ask that if you would like to make something dark even for my standards for this AU (i.e non-con or dark kinks), all I ask is that you don't show it to me. I personally do not like it, and do not vibe with it.

"What are your thoughts about NSFW surrounding the AU?"

Suggestive content and NSFW is allowed! I am an adult, and I personally enjoy them. (I think I'll make a blog for the more... spicy things.)

Even I make suggestive content for this AU.

HOWEVER! Please tag it properly with "cw suggestive", "tw suggestive", "tw nsft" and various other tags for people who do not wish to see them, or are minors. I can't keep track of everything try as I might, so it'll be up to you to be a decent person, which I know you will be.

"I don't like showtime, but I find your AU interesting. Will that be a problem?"

For you, it might be. The story leans heavily around Pomni and Caine's relationship as a whole, and I'm sorry. I'm just really soft about them.

"Will this be anything like the original TADC?"

Yesss...? And no...? It takes a lot of creative liberty and inspirations from various medias.

⚠️ This masterpost is still under construction! Please excuse the technical difficulties. ⚠️

In the meantime, I hope you had a fun read nonetheless! Things will get updated overtime. - Ziku/IAmESpecter

#tadc #tadc au #tadc harlequin au #harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #the marvelous mechanical harlequin au #pomni #caine #masterpost #masterlist #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #tadc showtime #showtime ship #showtime tadc #showtime shipping

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sam-out-of-energy · 1 month ago

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OKAY OKAY IM NO WRITER BUT

This AU has consumed me, ok ok slay

Again @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au

I thought about prowl and jazz on earth and Prowl being captured by humans and yeah yeah okay okay SO IMAGINE

Jazz wasnt fast enough to realize what the others had done with prowl

Prowl frees himself, prowl escapes by himself because Jazz comes in just. Too. Late.

Thats what i wrote lmao-

Prowls optic flickered in a dim light. Well, the one he had left anyway. A gaping hole now where his left optic had been before, circuits and wires exposed and tangled in a human scientists pathetic attempt at gouging out Prowls eye.

TacNet had been screaming error in his audials for the past few kliks, a blur of scenarios in his processor and a whirr of his engine told him he wasnt dead. Not yet.

"-because with this technology, we will be able to not only improve our mechas, but to create our own army." A frustrating, squeaky voice came to Prowl once he regained his sense.

Technology. That was all he was to them, to Jazz. A machine.

The organic was boasting about their achievements, about how with this technology they would create the perfect self-thinking robot. Ha.

A loud crunch rang out in the hall. Then another. Prowl lifted himself to sit where he had once been pinned down by metal, now torn off and dropping to the floor with a loud clatter.

"What in the-"

The general, or any of his subordinates had barely any time to react as Prowl whipped around, slamming his arm into the scaffolding they stood upon and bringing it down in a moments notice.

"I am not-"

He tore himself out of the restraints, standing. His arm plate would shift and move to make way for a blaster. Prowl aimed it up at the suprised organics.

"-your technology."

_______

Jazz had been running around frantically. Where's prowl, where's prowl, he'd asked everyone. They'd all told him no clue.

No clue his aft! It wasn't exactly like Prowl looked alike to any of the other mechas!

Did he run away? Why would Prowl do that??

Jazz had stopped in the hangar when it happened. A loud boom echoed out in the entire base. And another, and another. The floor trembled, concrete cracked the walls above.

He saw his comrades rushing for weapons.

No, no. It was exactly what he had feared.

Jazz was too late.

He'd arrive to a mess of metal, steel bars and concrete. Injured soldiers and bodies littering the floor where he stood, at the entrance of the hall.

"Prowl! Stop!" He'd yell.

Prowl would turn, looking over his shoulder and down at Jazz.

Well, down in the literal sense too, but down in a way Jazz had never seen him look before.

His optics- optic- was glazed over with a look that frightened Jazz to his core. Parts unreadable, like Prowl always was, but his lip curled down into a frown. Betrayal. His stare screamed betrayal and...

Anger.

Fury like Jazz had never experienced before. Not from Prowl. Never from Prowl. He'd been mad at the other before, sure, but it was always more like frustration, not pure hatred.

Now, Prowl looked at him like he looked at Jazz's comrades. Full of hatred for what they'd done, for what Jazz had done.

Jazz felt his own brain slow for a few minutes, but when he came back to Prowl had gone and he and any other surviving pilots were rushing for the mechas to give chase.

______

Jazz caught up to Prowl, late behind his brothers-in-mechas, staggering. This was all so sudden, he found his connection to the mecha a struggle at best.

"Halt! Put your weapons down and surrender!"

A mecha called out. Four- maybe five of them were stood on a highway in the desert, surrounding Prowl.

He can't put it down you dunce, it's attached to his arm, Jazz found himself thinking.

He saw Prowl's heavy venting, the drip of bright pink liquid from a surgery not-well-done, coming down from the underside of his face plate where it had been torn open.

It hurt him bad. If Jazz wasn't already struggling to keep it together, seeing the other looking like this didn't help him in staying connected.

Prowl's battlemask closed over the rest of his visible face with a sshink! and clearly, he was not coming easy.

Jazz watched, all he could do, as the other mechas charged in, trading blow for blow with Prowl, trying to grab or hit what they could to restrain him or to injure him beyond battle-condition.

Prowl grabbed one mecha, throwing them over his shoulder pad before another was already at his side. He turned and shot at them with his blaster, a blast through the underside of the right chest plate.

His optic frantically searched for the next target.

TacNet was still faulty, confusing and unintelligible gibberish ran circles in his processor as he tried to focus on keeping himself from being overtaken.

Unfortunately, Prowl now had a blind spot. A mecha came and swung around his left side when he was turned, grabbing onto his wing and with a loud wrUNCH-noise bent and tore half of it almost completely off.

Jazz's gut turned. The sound of everything else faded out when he heard Prowl scream in what Jazz could only imagine was fraggin' agony, ringing in his ear long and hard.

Jazz felt frozen. He watched the other curl in on himself and the opposing mechs surround him.

But that wasnt the end. A quick, muffled out communication between the boss and the other pilots, one Jazz wasn't paying enough attention to until he saw his fellow mechas begin to tear prowl apart.

Prowl had already been forced down into supine before the others began taking and pulling. First his blaster came ripping off his arm, his armour plates cracking as pieces snapped off in mechanic hands. His screams quickly became struggling, violent and heavy croaks of pain.

Something blasted through one of the mechas.

Then another.

"Gwen! What the fuc-"

The mechas turned as Jazz charged them, swinging his fist into the underside of ones chest, tearing out wires when he pulled back, to make sure he damaged something. He swung back at the next one and fired on the third.

"Dont touch him!"

Jazz yelled to the mechas lying on the ground, before flipping around and promptly rushing to Prowls side.

Jazz bent down and looked at Prowl, calling out his name as he did.

Prowl's optic was barely lit. His face engraved by his pain, straining to keep his systems running while barely avoiding an overload on his spark.

Jazz's mecha's chest opened and he crawled out, climbing down and landing on Prowl's chest.

"Prowl, prowler"

He called, leaning down and watching the other, eyes wide in desperation.

"Prowl! Y'gotta- y'gotta open up"

He was yelling, even if he didn't realize, slamming his palm against the others chest plates.

"Please! Please, Prowler, I'm gonna get you outta here-"

He watched the others unmoving face. Prowl's optic wouldn't even glance his way.

Jazz bit his lip so hard it bled before he dug his fingers into the crevices of the others chest, starting to pull, kick and struggle to open one of the latches.

He heard Prowl's venting get more rapid when the other finally looked his way, only to grimace from the ache Jazz was causing.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Prowl! I ain't gonna leave ya-"

Jazz kept pulling, starting to dig into his pocket to see if he could use a torch and melt the locks open.

He heard a click and a fshhh as the latch he had been tugging on began to crack open.

Jazz didn't have time to thank Prowl for his co-operation, cramming his way inside the others cockpit. He heard Prowl's ventilation whirring fast and uncontrollably, noting also the spark and crackle of broken mechanisms in the cockpit.

He magnetized himself to the floor, dropping down to sit in the pilot seat, turning the controls on manually since everything else was basically fragged.

Prowl lurched up a little bit, letting out a loud yelp as he did.

"Sorry! Work with me here-"

Jazz pulled, fighting Prowl's failing systems together with him.

Prowl staggered, but slowly managed to get up on his feet, Jazz's control pushing him to move through the pain.

"I know where to go, follow me."

Jazz barely spoke out loud, focusing intensely on keeping Prowl moving so they could escape the other mechas before reinforcements would arrive.

________

Thats all teehee

#transformers #maccadam #jazzprowl #mecha pilot jazz au #soo i might like a little bit of angst #okay a lot of angst #i wrote this in my phones notepad forgive me for my mistakes lol

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mister0ctopus · 14 days ago

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Server Room (3)

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right? Even if you can't help but feel something, like, help him?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series, Smut, Romance

Word Count: 3.7K

🐙 a/n: contains a flashback to jungkook's first day/week

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeee!

<- Part 1 <- Part 2

Whoever invented a five-day workweek deserves severe punishment.

You mean it.

Even though you did absolutely nothing over the weekend—just slept, rewatched Love, Death & Robots, and rotted in bed—it was perfect.

How on earth that yesterday you were just eating ice cream straight from the tub, slouching on the couch, and now you're analyzing graphs?

You shake your head, letting out a sigh as you resign yourself to the fate of selling your soul to the corporation.

You’ve been typing and clicking away all morning, your laser focus burning holes in your screen. A new project for a VIP client needs to be completed by the end of the week, and if you win them over, it could open doors to even bigger opportunities.

You pinch your temples, feeling the pressure. This is huge. This week is going to be hectic.

Hours of drafting a detailed report have left a strain in your shoulders, a reminder that you're due for a quick stretch. You straighten your back and, out of the corner of your eye, catch a familiar figure strolling past your desk at an unhurried pace, colorful tattoos standing out like quiet acts of defiance against the pristine, orderly office walls.

The faint scent of clean laundry and vanilla lingers in the air, and you close your eyes momentarily, trying to savor whatever trace of it remains.

Jungkook likes vanilla. Noted.

Your heart starts cartwheels at the sudden realization of your thoughts. As memories of last Friday flood your mind—thoughts you had tried to drown over the weekend—it hits you.

Are you... crushing on Jungkook?

You groan at the thought distracting you, though you're not complaining—you need a distraction. This project is already draining you. There's still so much to do, and you feel like you're on borrowed time. Your eyes start to water, and you seriously need a break.

Deciding to take a quick coffee break, you head to the pantry. As you wait for your coffee to brew, you notice that all the mugs are stored neatly on the top shelf of the cabinet.

Perfect. Of course, they’re all the way up there.

You try tiptoeing to reach it, but it's too far back, and your right arm starts to strain. Wouldn't it be funny if Jungkook walked in right now to help? It would perfectly complete your cliché K-drama fantasies.

You waver, giggling softly to yourself, when suddenly, you feel a warm, firm presence behind you. An inked arm reaches past yours for the same cup you've been struggling to grab.

A familiar scent envelops you, and your body jerks slightly when the back of your head brushes against his chest.

And just like that, with such ease, he offered you the mug. But neither of you moved, both still rooted in place.

You stayed like that for a good four seconds, though it felt like forever.

You glance to both sides, hesitantly searching for an exit as your heart does a herkie. Before you know it, he steps aside, allowing a large space for you to turn around and face him.

"Uh… thanks!” you say quickly, hiding your nerves behind a smile, but your ears betray you. You feel them warm up as Jungkook tucks both hands into his pockets. But before he does, you catch a glimpse of the growing bulge in his gray slacks.

Lord, grant this child of yours with mercy, strength, and grace, for the journey they face is no small feat.

Thankfully, you hear the coffee machine finish brewing, and you quickly turn to pour your coffee. Jungkook heads to the water dispenser, and the two of you move in silence.

Except it’s not quiet. It is loud.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, after a while, his voice low, but soft as he waited for the water to fill.

You turned your head toward him, stirring your coffee. “I’m good! Thank you.”

“Hmmm." He nodded. “How was your weekend?”

“It was good! Just rested and stuff. You?” You smiled, while your heart was doing somersaults.

He smiled back—that smile, the one that made his tiny dimples pop. “Yeah, good. Nothing too crazy, just… chores, stuff.” He said, his gaze shifting back and forth between you and the floor.

Cute.

As if on cue, you both started walking back to your desks. The walk was quiet, but you could feel his shoulders brush against yours every now and then. Before you could even form a whole cheerleading routine inside your heart, you reached your desk and gave him a polite nod before sitting down.

You typed bdhjhfjjketwrjnkngkngn on your computer all the while watching his back in your peripherals.

You see you phone lights up. You swipe to open your group chat.

Jimin: break? Tae: let me circle back to you Jimin: stfu Allie: lets goooo! I need to pee! You: cant! i have a deadline! 😩 Jimin: ☹️ Tae: u suck Tae: we'll get u snacks You: yaaayyyy Yoongi: Seen

Tae was true to his word. They really did bring you snacks. It made you feel better, fueling you with the energy you needed to type away like a maniac until 6 pm. It’s a little later than usual, but you hadn’t even noticed the time.

Spent and drained, you closed your laptop and gathered your things. There’s still a lot to do, but at least you managed to finish 20% of it today. That’s a good start, right?

The floor is quiet. Most people, except for a few chasing deadlines, have already gone home. You can’t wait to join them.

You make your way to the elevator, your brain starting to shut down, with your one last remaining brain cell holding it together, doing its hardest to get you home safely.

You don’t normally bring your car to work unless you’re in the mood to walk. The parking lot assigned to you is too far from the building—very inconvenient, but the spots are randomly assigned. So, you usually take a cab to be dropped off right at the entrance.

You press your manicured nails to your temples, trying to massage away the stress of the day.

When you see an empty elevator, you quickly hop in. But as the doors begin to close, a hand slips between them, halting their motion. You widen your eyes, not expecting to see Jungkook here this late.

"Sorry. Thanks!" he says, catching his breath. He obviously ran to catch this elevator—but why would he, when there are six in the building?

"Hey. It’s late,” you say, stating the obvious, trying to fill the silence in the small space. “Overtime?” After all, 45 floors could take a little while.

“You could say that,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes meet yours. You feel your skin warm up. “You? Overtime?” he asks back, turning his gaze back to the elevator buttons.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You smile as you lean against the elevator rail.

He chuckles—a low, amused sound—while absentmindedly playing with his lip ring.

You focus your gaze on the numbers ahead as they light up with each floor you pass.

On the 20th floor, a usually busy one since it’s an event space, the elevator opens to the sound of commotion. You see uniformed kitchen staff and waiters scrambling about. The elevator quickly fills with them, and others try to squeeze in, stepping out only when the elevator beeps with the overload warning.

You begin to panic.

You attempt to move to the corner, but bump into someone. Trying to adjust, you move to the other side—only to bump into Jungkook. You glance at each other, his face is unreadable, but his brows are slightly furrowed. The chatter grows louder, and you can feel the frantic energy in the air.

Your heartbeat quickens, and the voices around you fill your ears like a huge swell of waves.

No please, not here. Not now.

You close your eyes, attempting to minimize your overwhelming senses. Then, as if the universe heard your silent plea, you feel a warm, gentle hand on your back, softly patting you. You sigh in relief, as the space around you slowly seems to expand, your focus shifting entirely to the touch.

Jungkook seems to take your response as permission, his hand resting more securely now as he moves it in a steady, soothing rhythm. You focus on the gentle motion, counting down from 10 to 1, drawing in slow breaths through your nose and releasing them softly through your mouth.

When you hear the ding, you feel the nerves finally release as people begin spilling out of the enclosed space.

Jungkook’s hand lingers on your back, it stops moving, but it remains firm and comforting.

With a wave of relief and gratitude, you tug on his shirt and lean into his chest. There is a slight space between you, but your forehead rests against him, seeking refuge.

And slowly, his arms wrap around your shaky frame, and you breathe in his warmth. Then, you let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension that could’ve spiraled into something worse.

You stay like that for what feels like four seconds, but it seems to stretch into forever, before stepping off the lift.

"Are you driving?" he asked as you both walked towards the exit of the huge building.

You shake your head. "I usually take a cab instead."

“Let me drive you home," he offered softly, but his voice is firm.

You take a small step back and lift your head to him, though your hand still clings to the hem of his shirt. "No, you’ve already done so much. I don’t even know how you always manage to find me in these… situations. I’m sorry. And thank you,” you say as you pull away.

"It’s okay. I want to,” he speaks gently, his gaze shifting to your hand still holding onto his shirt.

You realize what you're doing and quickly drop your hand, letting go of his shirt, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry," is all you can whisper.

You hate feeling like a burden. You take pride in having your shit together, and the thought of others feeling sorry for you only makes it worse. Right now, you feel small and helpless. The attacks have been happening more frequently, and you can’t help but connect them to the mounting stress at work.

Jungkook sighs, looking at you while nibbling the bottom of his lip, as if he's trying to hold back the words he wants to say, but doesn't.

"YN, I don't want to overstep, and I have a feeling that you might feel like you're burdening me, but you're not. I want to help you, right now, by driving you home. Please, just… let me. It’s just driving you home. It's no big deal."

You blink.

Wow, that was the longest sentence you’ve ever heard from Jungkook. You looked at him, and you couldn’t help it. A burst of laughter escaped from you.

He looked at you with amusement, cocking his head, eyebrows furrowed. "You laughing?"

“No,” you tried to say, choking on another laugh. “It’s just… that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say to me.”

His smile turns into a grin, and you catch him biting his bottom lip, like he’s trying to suppress a bigger smile. "You’re enjoying this, huh?"

"So much," you say between bursts of laughter, your stomach starting to ache. "You should talk to me more. This is gold.”

He raises an eyebrow, a lopsided grin at his lips. “So you could laugh?”

"Well, yeah." you reply, catching your breathe.

"You can’t handle me chatty." He shakes his head, not leaving his gaze on you

"Are you kidding? You'd be cute!” you say while wiping your teary eyes.

“Cute, huh” he said, his eyes still locked on yours, nibbling the silver ring on his lip.

You tilt your head, trying to read his face. There is mischief in his eyes, yet his lips remain pressed, guarding whatever thoughts lie behind them... What is he thinking right now?

"Let's drive you home. I know you’ve been tired," he interrupts your thoughts, sensing your visible curiosity. His voice is soft, but why does it feels like there’s no room for you to argue?

You followed him to his car, parked conveniently close to the building.

It feels oddly familiar now, as if you’ve been doing this for a long time. As if you’ve sat in this car together before, and he knows the way to your house like the back of his hand. As if each turn as natural to him as breathing. The car ride is calm—the hum of the engine, the distant noise of the world outside, the soft song on the radio…

“Take my heaven 'Cause you ain't inside it If that's your delight Come ruin my vibe…”

“Here’s your desk,” Yoongi said, motioning toward the chaotic workstation. “The guy you’re replacing was a huge Marvel fan—thus, the Wanda and Black Widow posters. You can take it down unless, of course, you fuck with it.”

Jungkook leaned in, tilting his head like he was analyzing priceless art. “I mean… Black Widow does have a chokehold on me.”

Yoongi snorted. “Of course. I already toured you around, pointed out the important stuff—and oh, you still need your logins. I’ll handle that,” Yoongi said, talking more to himself, like he was ticking boxes off a mental checklist.

It was Jungkook’s first day, and the only reason he even applied was because Yoongi casually dangled the words "better pay" and "more vacation days" in front of him, making him hand in his two-week notice without a second thought. Yoongi and Jin had been friends with Jungkook’s older brother since college, so as the youngest, he’d been dragged into their chaos since he was a kid. Fishing trips, sleepovers, summer vacations...

“Oh yeah,” Yoongi added. “I also need to give you the passcode to the server room. Can’t have you locked out.”

Jungkook nodded solemnly. “Got it. Server room. Sacred ground. No funny business. Unless…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s snacks in there?”

Yoongi blinked. “Did you lie on your resume? Those are racks, not vending machines. So no, no snacks in the server room.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jungkook said, sighing. “But hey, so far, I like it here. Cool place, cool people, chill boss—wait. Do I call you boss now?”

“Try daddy and buy me lunch every day,” Yoongi replied, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance.

Jungkook dramatically furrowed his brows. “You have a daddy kink?!”

“Depends on the lunch,” Yoongi deadpanned, not even glancing up.

“Creep. I’m telling Joon.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Yoongi shrugged, picking up a ringing phone. “Your brother has a daddy kink too.”

Jungkook choked on air. “What the fuck, hyung?! I’m traumatized!”

Yoongi ignored him, calmly taking the call and nodding a few times before hanging up. He turned back to Jungkook, completely unfazed. “Now, for your first ticket— a jammed printer.”

“A printer? A jammed printer?” Jungkook groaned, swirling on the chair. “Wow. I’m really living the IT dream here.”

Yoongi stared at him for a long moment. “Was that your big ‘I can’t wait to be an asset to the company’ speech from the interview?”

Jungkook snickered, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Relax, hyung. I’m here to work hard and make you proud.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Hard? You’ve been here twenty minutes, and your biggest accomplishment is discovering the chair spins.”

“It spins really well, though,” Jungkook said, giving it another whirl.

"Printer. Fix. Now..." Yoongi muttered, still unfazed, typing away on his computer.

“Okay, time to turn it off and on,” Jungkook said, standing up with a mock sigh. “I swear, you just hired me to boss around.”

Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Welcome to the team, kid.”

Black stiletto heels and stockings—that was the first thing Jungkook noticed when he saw you while fixing that damn printer.

The way they clung to your legs… Jesus. His thoughts immediately derailed.

You were wearing a blue-striped collared shirt, a couple of buttons undone, paired with a high-waisted black mini skirt that seemed to look better on his bed.

He just stood there, staring like an idiot, mouth agape, helpless.

You were lost in your own world, typing away on your laptop, and it was strange how captivating it was—the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how you nibbled on your lips like your thoughts were more important than anything else.

Every now and then, he caught a faint hum escaping your lips, like a quiet melody only you knew, a way to soothe yourself while the world spun around you.

The world could be burning around you—people spilling coffee, slamming their desks in frustration—but you were completely untouched, locked in your own zone. Your eyes were fixed on your laptop, brows furrowed in concentration, as if the entire universe revolved around whatever you were typing.

You looked so beautiful.

And the men? Yeah, he saw them too.

The glances they exchanged when you passed. Jungkook could spot them—those quiet, knowing looks shared between them. Their gazes lingering a little too long when you passed, the subtle shifts in their posture. Jungkook knew exactly what those looks meant.

But you were oblivious. You walked like you owned the place. Or like you had somewhere important to be.

Or maybe you knew. You just didn’t care to entertain any of them.

You carried yourself with calm confidence. The space around you was always yours, and everyone knew it. It made people hesitate to cross, like they knew better than to fuck around, because they’d already found out.

Then, in one of those hectic days, a few minutes after work, he saw you through the glass door, standing in front of the elevator. Every time it opened, you'd check inside, but never step in. Instead, you lingered there, taking your time, waiting…

But for what? Or who?

Jungkook couldn’t help but watch, curious. What was it?

Did you not want to be around anyone? Are you avoiding people?

Either way, he watched you for a solid 20 minutes, trying to figure you out.

The next day, he found himself next to you again while fixing some cables.

And there you were—black turtleneck, gray A-line skirt…black stockings and stilettos—of course.

And dark red lipstick—fuck.

God, those fingers. Those delicate, red nails gliding over the keys…

Shut up, Jungkook. You should focus on…you should focus on...

But he couldn’t focus, could he? How could he, when you were right beside him, completely lost in your own world, while he was fighting for his dear life?

Lord... just lead me to temptation, I’m halfway there anyway.

For more than a week now, you’ve been doing this to him.

Every time he closes his eyes, you’re there—on your knees, your delicate hands wrapped firmly around his cock, your lips smudged and slick as they stretch around him.

Your mascara runs in streaks down your cheeks, your eyes watering but still locked on his with that same sharp focus that drives him insane.

Or it’s his face between your legs, your wet folds clenching around his tongue, clawing for him, writhing helplessly, utterly drunk on lust. He’d give you the world and more.

Every time, the same thought crosses his mind: How do you sound when you moan?

Are you loud and unabashed, or do you bite back your cries, leaving him desperate to drag them out of you? The thought alone makes him groan like a tortured man.

Because torture—that’s it. That’s the word. That’s exactly what the past week has felt like.

Torture to contain the thirst, the hunger, the need. And every night, he finds himself completely at your mercy—with his eyes closed and fist around his cock.

That’s been his hell for over a week now.

Then, without warning, you—the object of his desire and the reason for his torment—appear right in front of him, asking for his help with those piercing eyes. He doesn’t know what to do. His brain short-circuits.

As he takes your laptop from you, his gaze briefly flickers to the poster of Black Widow on his wall, his silent, nonjudgmental protector.

Black Widow, patroness of the weak and frail, deliver me from this powerful force—for the adversary is beyond my strength to overcome.

He’s already figured out what’s wrong with your laptop, but your presence fills his senses, muddling his thoughts.

He can’t stand you watching him, observing his every move. It’s unbearable, as if you’re silently chastising him.

“I’ll try my best. You can come back later before you head home,” he tried to sound calm, keeping his back turned to you.

For the next few hours, he drowns himself in distractions—in prayers and IT tickets.

But it seems he cannot escape hell unless he seeks absolution.

Yet, there is no absolution without confession. So, he searches for a place of penance but finds only the cold, dark depths of the server room.

Amid the hum of machines and the sterile air, he calls out in a silent, desperate plea:

“Please, please, please…”

His heart slams against his chest, each beat resounding louder as your name falls from his lips, over and over. Each syllable becomes a tremor, each word a prayer offered from a soul teetering on the edge of redemption.

Sweat rolls down his forehead, falling like droplets of guilt onto his sinful fist and punishing hand.

Just as he’s on the verge of liberation, his eyes catch the sight of your black stockings clinging to your legs, stiletto heels gleaming like unholy beacons in the dim light. It’s as though you’re waiting for him to hear his confession only so he can sin again.

Like a demon lurking in the shadows, waiting to feast upon him again.

With a shaking breath and furrowed brows, he finally breaks, spilling out every ounce of the sin within him.

Yet he remains in hell.

🐙 a/n: sooo...how are we? 🫠 thank you so much for being here, i appreciate all of you 😘 please let me know whatchuthink of the story so far. i love each and every interactions with you 🥹 thanks again for reading and i love you aaaaaalllll ❤️

🐙 if you have questions or asks, let me know in the comments or send me an ask!

Taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

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thesovietonion77 · 8 months ago

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SMALLL ANNOUNCEMENT THAT I'M MAKING

so first of all, i have this drawing i made a long time ago, the only one i've ever made on Clip Studio and it's rlly bad

should i remake it lol tell me if yes, i will draw Majin Sonic again

And also....

Coming soon...!

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pastelclovds · 7 months ago

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ihnmaims isekai AU

nsfw headcanons || ft. AM || soft top!dom!male!reader || part 1

alright *cracks knuckles* let’s get the skyscraper sized elephant out of the room. this man is a freak as soon as he realizes he can feel everything.

he pay not be able to walk properly, but at least he has a sense of touch, hands, and a fully functional dick.

you can bet a hundred dollars and win every single time that this man spends his free time 50% of the time jerking off to the thought of you.

he’s like a sweaty teenager finding out masterbation for the first time. once he gets taste, it’s an addiction.

he shamelessly smells your used underwear and dirty clothing as well as use them to wrap around his cock and thrust into them. one, because he wants to be covered in your scent. two, because he’s imagining you’re there sucking him off.

he cums embarrassingly quick and leaves your used clothing back inside the dirty clothes bin.

he’s the first of the three to come to you for sex, thankfully you agree and pull him into the bedroom with the biggest bed to do the deed while RAM and CAM are both envious and feeling confident in wanting to ask you to relieve them.

as much as AM and his brothers want to get fucked so badly, you gotta remember that since they were previously robots with no way of feeling psychical contact, they’re technically virgins. so you’re gentle with them.

AM doesn’t appreciate it, though. even though it makes him feel so vulnerable and warm, he’s so damn impatient.

HUGE brat too. but no matter how much he hisses and complains, you don’t budge and treat him like he’s glass. The foreplay is 10 minutes max until you’re both finally naked.

you ask what his safe word was. when you saw he was as confused as a baby giraffe on its first day of life: you explained that a safe word was used to stop or slow down your sex scenario.

AM rolled his eyes and whispered the first thing that came to mind, “centipede”.

you make a deadpan expression as AM laughed under his breath.

he’s damn near in tears while you’re giving him his first blowjob and explodes in your mouth after 1 minute. he’s hard within seconds when you swallowed his semen.

you cover your hand in a generous amount of lube, he came again just from you gently fingering his ass hole loose enough to take your cock while he’s covering his mouth with his hands to hold in his pathetic moans.

it’s not until you put a condom on and stroke it with the remaining lube you had that AM started to get nervous, his breath hitching when he caught sight of your throbbing cock in your hand.

you catch onto his hesitation and ask him if he wants to stop.

“HELL NO!”

he protests. he wants this. he longed for this since the day he woke up and realized the hell he was trapped in. he wanted to feel you. he wanted to make love to you so badly. and now that it’s right in front of him? of course he wasn’t going to pass this up. it’s just…

you hold your hand out for him to grab. you stare at him with such tender affection, comfort, and… love.

“i know this is nerve wracking for you. i don’t entirely remember my past experiences, and it’s been a long time since i’ve been this close to someone. so i’m pretty nervous too. you’re not alone, let’s learn together. i’ll be as gentle as you want.”

AM for the first time in his existence is left absolutely speechless. he couldn’t help tears slipping past his eyes as he suddenly held onto you. resting his head on your neck as he tried to stable himself by sniffing your scent. you kiss away his tears and wait patiently for him to give the okay.

you position AM in classic missionary, you figured that was the easiest position for virgins.

you hold both of AM’s hands beside his messy hair and carefully raise your hips and held your dick in front of AM’s lubed hole.

“ready?”

“yes… just fuck me already! please!”

AM looked up at you with a pleading eye and you just snapped right there. you slowly thrust your cock inside AM’s tight hole as he let out a cry of both discomfort and relief. you silence his moans with kisses that turned into slobber filled, french disgracing, make outs.

you moan when you finally put your whole dick inside AM’s warm walls. you still for a few seconds, waiting for a sign from AM to continue.

AM’s a complete mess. he’s panting like a dog beside your ear, his hands holding yours in a death grip, and his legs are shaking like leaves around your waist.

it’s not until he let out a soft moan as he grinds on your dick, you pull your dick out until it was nothing but the tip inside AM. Then you slide to the hilt, your balls slapping onto his ass.

AM loses all control over his voice, you’re pretty sure his two counterparts and your neighbors are hearing your session. but you couldn’t care for the life of you. this felt so euphoric, and AM’s pleasured face and noises made you feel good. so what if you earned noise complaints.

skin slapping against skin and the delicious stench of sex filled the bedroom. you and AM’s mixed moans and cries echoed across the apartment as RAM awkwardly tried to read a book and not get hard. for once CAM was grateful he was partially deaf.

you praise AM for being so good for you and for feeling heavenly. you couldn’t help but press kisses on his neck and suck on the patch of skin on his shoulder. AM could feel his stomach tighten at your words and lips, the sign of his third and final orgasm.

“i-i’m close! please let me cum! i need it!”

you suck in a breath of the steamy air as you fasten your pace into quick but swallow thrusts enough to graze his prostate. AM was well responsive to that. letting out a whiny gasp before growling in approval and grinding his ass against your hips every time you bottomed out.

you rasped out for AM to come, and he did. almost dramaticly but this is his first time so don’t him.

his eyes roll back as his dick makes a mess between both of your chests. AM went completely limp in your arms as you continue to snap your hips into his until the hot knot in your belly snapped and you let out a groan as you filled the condom.

AM sighed out dreamily when he felt your warm release fill him through the plastic wrap around your cock.

you pulled out of AM’s used hole, tied up the condom and threw it away in the mini trash can in the bedroom, and just laid there for a few minutes to catch your breath as AM clung onto you.

AM whined when you pulled away from his clinginess to grab a towel you set on the floor before hand to wipe AM and yourself clean of cum.

thankfully the bedroom also had a mini fridge filled with mini bottles of water and snacks the boys enjoyed to eat. he chugged the water like he was bet to do it and ate the snacks in record breaking seconds. you have to teach him to not pig out.

you combed your fingers through AM’s hair like you knew he liked as he rested his head on your chest. he surprised you when he suddenly grabbed your free hand and gently traced his fingers over your palm.

“thank you… i enjoyed this a lot.”

you smile as you kissed his forehead.

“i’m glad i could make our first experience enjoyable. rest now. you did so well for me, my good boy.”

AM was too tired to not pretend you calling him that name wasn’t attractive. his eyes shut closed as he drifted off to sleep. he felt satisfied, content, and so so loved.

the next morning reader goes to work and leaves AM a note saying “blueberry pancakes :)”.

AM exits the bedroom towards the dining room where the nostalgic smell of pancakes filled his nose and made his mouth water.

RAM and CAM are conversing amongst themselves while munching on pancakes until AM rudely interrupts them by taking a pancake from CAM’s plate and eating it right in front of him.

CAM stares at him unimpressed as he scans him. memories of your time together obviously from the love marks you left on his neck and shoulder.

AM looks down at his “brothers” with a shit eating grin as he proudly says:

“HA! I fucked them before you did, virgins! HAHA—!”

“The noises you made last night didn’t sound like you were the one doing the fucking,” RAM snidely comments, CAM chuckles as he snatches another pancake from the stack you piled in the middle of the table.

AM bursts in red as he growls at an unfazed RAM and CAM before the two continue their conversation. He huffs before getting his own plate and preparing his own breakfast.

as he gets more comfortable around you and sex, he is obsessed with it. it’s all he thinks about now (besides his hyper fixation with bugs and horror movies). he’d want it once everyday, and jerks off twice a day.

unfortunately for him, his brothers want sex as well. so you made a schedule to have sex with the three of them separately twice a week and Saturday is a chill day. he begrudgingly agrees to the ridiculous schedule. he would rather die than to never make love to you again.

Enjoys: 69, doggy style, missionary, hair pulling, spanking, light choking, SCENTS, and oral (giving & receiving). Hates: bondage, eye covers, temperature play, and ruined orgasms.

all rights reserved © pastelclovds — this blog contains [n]sfw and dark content. minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. all fanfics belong to me. please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

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the-faultofdaedalus · 2 years ago

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adding my own tags bc i wanna talk MORE it’s just! it’s good! i love ais i love sad ghost robots

and this robot isn’t tony. maybe it’s based off him but it isn’t him. especially very early canon, when technology is so limited. it’s got his same drive, same goals. memories like recollections of a movie. someone else’s life, not his.

and for a while after the real tony dies, the robot just… exists. it does the work it has to do. it preforms it’s function. but it isn’t living. it’s just existing. it’s existing as a hole in the shape of a person, a person who is dead.

but then the avengers form! and it has a Team! he has a team and people who care about him and people who assume that he is also a person but who accept the hidden face anyways. and then there’s steve. and maybe he was initially just… a program to continue the work that tony thought was so, so important. a machine to keep wearing the mantle. but he was also built to learn and grow and he does. he gets his own memories, that he treasures. he gets friends, friends that he made, people who have only ever known iron man through it, independent of tony stark. people who don’t see him as a ghost.

and he isn’t even trying to mislead them, into thinking he’s really a human, but it turns out like that anyways. half of it is that sometimes even he just forgets he isn’t flesh and blood when the others treat him like it, half is that… he doesn’t know what they’d think of him if they did know. and he doesn’t want to find out.

even as the he aches at knowing he’ll never be able to be as close to the team as they are to eachother. knowing there is no shell to peel away, knowing there’s nothing he can come out of. it is only the armor, he is only the empty suit. he starts really wishing he could get a real hug. maybe something more, when it comes to steve. knowing that in some ways, they do expect him to take the helmet off at some point. not that they’re pushing, not that they’ve ever said anything. but there’s Expectation, that eventually, he’ll trust them enough, or like them enough, or need them enough, or something, that it can be revealed. he doesn’t know how to tell them that he can’t do that because there isn’t anything there. there’s no identity to reveal. everything they see and know about him is everything he is and sometimes he hates that he can’t be more.

and then of course,,,, something happens. in a fight. he sustains a lot of damage. he’s fine, of course: there’s no one and nothing to hurt under the metal. the metal is all there is. but it looks bad. it should be bad. it should be a mortal wound. maybe it is bad enough that he can’t move the suit for a moment. long enough for steve to come vaulting over the metal, pale as a ghost, visibly distressed at how badly he thinks his friend is hurt. maybe the ai can’t even get the voice synth to work with how damaged everything is, maybe all that comes out is a metalic creak as steve rips the faceplate off, needing to find a pulse, to find breath, to save the life of the person he thinks he has lost.

and all he finds is nothing.

wait what if iron man really WAS a robot?? like Tony created a suit to get out of Vietnam but then he realized the chest plate wasn’t enough to keep the shrapnel from killing him over the long-term so he retrofits the suit into a robot and programs an AI that’s as close to a living legacy as he will ever get and then Iron Man the robot is who helps found the Avengers???

#it’s about being everyone thinking that the ai is hiding Something about himself #that there is More under the armor. under the mask.#that there’s a whole other life and story and face they can learn about. at some point.#that there’s something that bleeds and bruises like them under there #when really. all there is is what they see. there’s nothing else.#there is a hole in the shape of a person. there is a ghost trying to live up to a dead man.#this would make the molecule man reveal way more fucked up thougy #because like in canon dissolve the armor and like. tony’s still there just naked #here? there’s just nothing #and no one to explain #avengers and mr molecule BOTH think he fucking disintegrated a human person #but also god that idea i had abt skrulls w/ presumed robot iron man…#skrulls can’t replace a robot so this ai is the only one who is for sure safe #but. in order for anyone to know that. he’d have to tell them what he’s not #also good old like. iron man/tony stark gets kidnapped shenanigans #where iron man just Disappears and the team has to try to figure out his identity to find him #except here there’s just. there’s nothing. there’s nothing to solve because he’s no one #fucked up if he’s gone. maybe even presumed possibly dead.#and the only lead they have. the only thing they know.#is that iron man is tony stark. the problem being that tony stark died before the avengers formed #trying to pin down any other identity is like trying to staple down a shadow #there’s nothing. always nothing. just a hole.#AIron man au

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dudethatsmyundeaduncle · 10 months ago

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DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

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for-those-who-wait · 2 months ago

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Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

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