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swordsandholly · 10 months ago

Text

Fancy

Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.

Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.

You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.

The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.

It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.

“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.

You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.

“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?

There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in it.

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hurtspideyparker · 8 months ago

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Avengers Beach Day !

Tony is under a large beach umbrella, sat on a comfortable chair in bright red swim shorts and a flowy floral cover up. He has a large cooler with drinks, sandwiches and pickles. Also chips. Pepper is beside him reading a book about sustainability.

Natasha is in a simple black two piece swimsuit with large sunglasses, soaking in the sun.

"If anybody stares at my ass I will drown you and make sure your body never washes ashore," she warns as she lays out a towel and stretches out in the sun.

Peter and Thor are the first in the water, but only after Steve makes sure everyone has sunscreen on. "The water actually amplifies the harmful UV rays, so you should reapply in an hour. Don't worry, I'll remind you."

Peter and Clint tell Thor about chicken fighting, which delights him, and they are able to convince Steve to join so they can play. Peter sits on Thor's shoulders, and Clint on Steve's. It takes 4 rounds before Clint realizes Peter is cheating by sticking to Thor so he won't fall down. Peter and Thor switch places, but Thor still wins every time because well... muscles.

Bruce sets himself up on a blanket with a book but ends up falling asleep within twenty minutes. He sleeps for 2 hours and gets severely sunburnt.

Sam and Bucky sit down in two matching chairs a respectable distance apart, sunglasses on. Bucky is completely still for so long that Sam peeks over to see if he's asleep, his body casting a shadow over the soldier.

"Sam, I swear to god."

"Alright alright just checking, don't get your panties in a twist!"

Steve ends up floating around in the water peacefully, spread out like a starfish, while Clint and Peter show off their underwater handstand abilities to Thor. When Thor tries one for himself he ends up kicking Steve in the face. Peter and Clint can't stop laughing while Thor apologizes.

Natasha eventually joins the boys in the water, in which Clint begs her to play chicken with him because "all these guys are cheating super freaks!"

Natasha gets on Steve's shoulder and Clint on Thor's.

Natasha wins every round.

Clint grumpily complains about losing for the next half hour until he's distracted by food. (Tony makes fun of him for being such a loser on the ride home and Clint doesn't stop talking about how all his friends are freaks for the next 3 days).

Tony calls everyone in for some snacks and drinks, and Peter shakes his wet hair out all over Tony.

"Hey, hey! Watch where you shake that thing, I will hold your sandwich hostage!"

"You can't go to the beach and not get wet Mr. Stark, you're so spoiled. I barely talked you out of bringing that big ugly tent, it was practically a house."

"That's it. Thor, have another ham and cheese," he says as he tosses the sandwich to the god.

"No wait I take it back! Thor stop that's mine!"

Afterwards Peter finds a spot with damp sand to start building a castle.

"What are you, five?" Sam asks.

"Hey! I just found these old buckets on the shore and thought it would be fun."

"Mhm, keep telling yourself that boy scout."

"Like you could do any better!"

They stare at each other for a moment.

"Imma 'bout to whoop your ass so hard kid," Sam says as he snatches a bucket from Peter and gets to work a few feet away.

Bruce rolls over in his sleep like a gas station hot dog. His other side gets sunburnt.

"Kid, I'm ready for a swim. Kid?"

"Not now Mr. Stark, I'm in a sand castle building competition!"

Tony stares down at the teenager with his wild curls covered in sand, filling up a neon pink bucket.

"... move over. Where's your moat? You can't expect to win without a moat."

"The water just absorbs back into the ground," Peter says with a frown.

"Hm. We need insulation. Go back into the water and get stones and kelp. And driftwood for the drawbridge. How much time do we have? Can I get my tools?"

"Hey!" Sam yells, "you can't have help! And definitely no genius engineering toolkit."

"Fine, no tools. But I'm allowed Mr. Stark! Just get someone to help you too," Peter replies as he runs off into the water.

"Son of a- Barnes! Get your ass over here! We need to teach this spiderling some manners."

"You should reapply your sunscreen," Steve says while hovering near Natasha lying on her towel.

"Touch me and lose your hand."

"Tony, the sun's going to set soon, let's go for a nice walk down the beach."

"Not now Pepper, I gotta finish this brickwork," he says with his face millimeters from the sand as he chisels.

"I wanna go for a romantic walk with my partner. The sunset doesn't wait for anyone, even you Tony Stark."

"Mhm, sure after I finish this battlement."

Pepper huffs.

"Whatever, I'll just go with Natasha."

"BRUCE, YOU DIDN'T REAPPLY!"

"Wuh- ow, OW OW OW OW OW OW-"

"Okay, times up!" Peter announces.

Tony, Bucky, Peter and Sam all stand up. They step back, scrutinizing each other's work.

"Well obviously ours is better. We have a functional drawbridge," Tony is the first to point out.

"You guys are such freaking nerds. Ours is prettier, and taller. Buck found these beautiful baby conch shells," Sam points out.

"We need judges. Thor!" Peter calls out.

"Let's stop here for a second, I need to buy some aloe vera," Natasha points out as she and Pepper pass by a small street of local shops near the beach front.

"Oh, are you feeling burned?"

"No it's for Bruce."

"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen him much today."

Natasha keeps her smirk to herself, purchasing the soothing lotion before heading back out to the street.

"Maybe on our way home we can get some ice cream," Natasha says as she points out the shop. "Bet Cap would like some butter pecan."

Pepper giggles.

"Ah, finally, Nat! We need a third judge for our sandcastle competition," Sam waves her over as she and Pepper rejoin the group.

"You have Bruce, Thor, and Steve, what do you need me for?"

"Steve is corrupted!" Peter chimes in.

"He's a partisan of the veteran best friends party. For all we know Bucky used his secret Cap knowledge to rig their castle to the ice pop's liking," Tony explains.

Peter sets his glare onto the man in question, "bet you just go crazy for conch, don't you Steve."

"I'd really rather not be apart of this conversation," Steve tells them.

Bucky turns to the women. "Thor voted for us, and Bruce voted for them. You're the tie-breaker Nat."

Natasha hands the bottle of lotion to Bruce who thanks her sheepishly as she steps up to the castles. She circles them slowly, ducking her head and taking in every crevice.

"Functional?" she asks, pointing at the drawbridge.

"Yes ma'am," Tony smirks.

She steps up to the opposing castle.

"You buy these?" she points to the sea shells adorning the castle.

Bucky lifts his chin, "nope, swam for em. All the work was my own, just short of evicting the previous tennants."

Natasha nods before stepping back.

"I've made my decision. The winner..." they all hold their breath, even Pepper and Steve who have no stakes in the the competition.

"Is Tony and Peter."

Cheers errupt, along with the very loud complaining of the two losers.

"Oh come on man! Ours is bigger, and prettier!" Sam protests.

"Oh really Sam? Is size all that matters? Stark's is functional. I don't know about you but I like a little personality beneath the pretty pretty decorations."

Peter pumps his fists in the air with a "woohoo!" before launching himself at Natasha in tight hug.

"I knew I liked you," Tony interjects as he joins the pair's hug, placing a kiss on both Natasha and Peter's temple.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the gesture and hides an affectionate smile.

"Yeah yeah," Natasha chimes, "let's get out of here so you can buy us ice cream."

"What are you gonna go for Rogers? Butter pecan?"

Natasha and Pepper snicker at Tony's comment as they collect their own ice creams from the worker; a chocolate peanut butter cone and a raspberry and lemon sorbet respectively.

"Tony..."

"No, no, I got this. Butterscotch? Rum raisin? Pistachio?"

"I'll have you know my taste buds are very modern. Peter showed me this Thai place and now I'm a regular."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Tony says while grabbing his coffee ice cream.

"Kid you're making it too easy. You are genuinely a freaking toddler," Sam says when he spots Peter licking a bubblegum ice cream cone.

"If having a personality is childish then it's no wonder you got cookies and cream, ahembasicbitch." Peter coughs the insult out.

"How dare you, you overgrown Little Tikes ad-"

Bucky licks his mint chocolate chip ice cream contentedly in the back of the shop while he watches the others fight.

"What do you think they're on about now?" Clint asks from his left.

Bucky glances at the bubblegum cone in the archer's hand.

"No clue."

"AHAHHHAAH"

"What! Vanilla is the best flavour!" Steve tries to argue, although Tony's own laughter rings louder than all other conversation in the room.

"M-modern taste buds AH haha-"

Bruce watches with awe and slight concern as Thor happily licks his 3 scoop tall rocky road contentedly.

"You hungry man?"

"Aye, I do enjoy the mallow."

Bruce watches the tower lean in every direction, almost falling several times and looking more dismal with every lick.

He almost says something, but Thor always angles the cone perfectly just in time to save it. Instead, he watches silently while scooping a spoonful of cookie dough from his cup.

It seems they got the rest of their bickering out at the shop, as with tired and heat-soaked limbs they pile onto the jet for the ride home.

Tony looks back like a mom driving a mini-van.

"The baby's asleep," he smirks at Pepper who looks back at Peter.

The teenager is dead asleep, mouth wide open and head resting on Natasha's shoulder. She glares when she catches Tony's eyes on the pair and he looks away, glancing at the other passengers.

"I could've sworn Bruce's whole schtick was green. Is he rebranding to red?"

Steve looks over at Tony with a shameful pout, "he forgot to reapply."

Tony quirks an eyebrow but doesn't comment, settling back to cuddle with Pepper.

"Mission success," he whispers into her hairline with a soft kiss.

#marvel mcu #irondad and spiderson #the avengers #peter parker #tony stark #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #thor odinson #bruce banner #sam wilson #pepper potts #clint barton #avengers #mcu #marvel #this is the beach episode in the anime #pepperony #marvel fanfic

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incorrectbatfam · 10 months ago

Note

Ooh can we get headcanons for the batfam going camping?

Duke: Yo, Bruce—

Bruce: One second. Hey, Kate, where are you putting the grill?

Kate: As far away from you as possible.

Alfred: Likewise with the ingredients. We have a limited supply unless one of you plans on hunting.

Jason: *cocks his gun*

Damian: Only cowards kill animals. A true Robin uses his natural birdlike instinct to forage for edible plants.

Duke: Guys—

Steph: Last time we did that I ended up with a rash the size of New Jersey. Count me out.

Bruce: We packed enough. No need for hunting or foraging.

Cass, sadly: But I want to slurp river.

Selina: I'm not chaperoning if you do. You know how cats and water are.

Duke: Uh, guys—

Cullen, scratching a mosquito bite: Can someone please pass the bug spray?

Kate: It's in Bette's car and she's still at the last gas station.

Barbara: What about sunscreen? The UV index is off the charts.

Selina: I think Luke took when he went to the information center.

Carrie: Just stick next to a more enticing target.

Carrie: *crouches in Dick's shadow*

Dick, flipping his hair: What can I say? I'm irresistible.

Helena, annoyed: Are you just gonna stand there and look pretty or are you gonna help me pitch this tent?

Dick: I'll look pretty, thank you.

Harper: I got it, Helena. Boys, amirite?

Duke: Seriously, guys—

Bruce: Everyone, quiet!

Bruce: *does a headcount*

Bruce: Where's Tim?

Duke: Dangling off a cliff.

Bruce: WHAT?!?

Duke, shrugging: That's what I've been trying to tell you.

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paluding · 10 months ago

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MODDERS WANTED!

Maxis lost and found: Sims 2 werewolf faces?

Nope, I didn't use any custom face templates or sliders to make this render. This werewolf face IS in the game! Once again, nothing to download here, at least not for now. Hopefully we can make this an actual thing. All the details and research under the cut 🐺

So I was digging through the Pets EP files the other day for a project I had in mind when I found these meshes:

The "Arch" in the name caught my attention, because that's how the CAS face templates are named as well, so when I loaded the preview I found these really cool werewolf faces!

That got me thinking… this was probably intended for the werewolf transformations, right? Looks like the devs scrapped this idea on the final Pets release. @/hypersaline already restored the werewolf fangs, and I was wondering if it would be possible to restore these faces too.

Are "temporary face sliders" overlays even a thing in this game? The closest interaction I can think of is the Plastic Surgery station and its preset faces for the failed surgeries, but those just create a new face in the genetic data of the Sim, which is permanent unless the player gives them another plastic surgery session. The ideal thing would be morphing the face with these "sliders" when they transform into werewolves, and then remove them once they go back to their human shape.

Anyway, I figured I could extract the meshes and see if I could preview the faces in Blender just to showcase them. The files are pretty broken, they don't even have a UV map and the vertex order is all over the place. So after some tedious vertex snapping shenaningans I kinda remade them in Blender. Here's how they all look, compared to the base second face template in the game:

Adult Female Face (afArchLycan):

Adult Male Face (amArchLycan):

Teen Female Face (tfArchLycan):

Teen Male Face (tmArchLycan):

No elder faces as far as I know, and obviously children werewolves aren't a thing in the vanilla game.

The modding skills needed to restore something like this (if it's even possible) are way out of my scope. So yeah, if any modder knows a trick or two about how to implement this face transformation back in the game and feels brave enough to give this a try, please count me in! My DMs are open. I'll be more than happy to help with anything I'm able to on the meshing department 🙇‍♂️

Until then, at least here's a showcase archived of what could have been for Sims 2 werewolves 🌝

#maxis lost and found #ts2 pets #I've wanted something like this for werewolves for so long #but honestly I don't have much hope for this actually happening #who knows! now it's out there let's see what happens

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yeet-me-dad-dy · 2 months ago

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The Arcane - Chapter Three - Blood and Bone

Summary: It's time for Viktor's first proper visit with his new doctor.

Characters: Viktor x Male Reader (Doctor Raven) x Jayce (eventually)

Warnings: Blood, needles

Words: 1,638

Viktor returned to the lab by noon, his approach heralded by the gentle click, click, click of his cane as he walked. With your exceptional senses, you could hear him exit the elevator and make his way down the hall. His footsteps, his breath, his gentle heartbeat…

The lab door opened with a hiss, and you turned to greet him with a smile. The heavy bags beneath his eyes were still dark, but his eyes themselves shone just a bit brighter. He’d also showered and changed his clothes, by the look of things.

“Afternoon, Viktor.”

“Doctor,” he nodded.

You invited him to sit in the chair near the chalkboard, where you would take a few samples of his blood.

“Sleep okay?” you asked as he sat heavily and you gathered your equipment.

“Well enough, with a mind as busy as mine.”

You chuckled. “I know what that’s like. Did you find something to eat?”

“Yes, an apple. To keep the doctor away,” he smirked.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smile.

You set your supplies out on a little metal table and rolled it and a chair of your own over to Viktor.

“Do you want to keep me away, Viktor?” you asked as he offered his arm to you.

He thought for a moment before replying with a soft, “no”.

“I would certainly hope not,” you smiled softly. “I would miss your company.”

“Already?” he asked sarcastically as he watched his blood fill a vial. “But we barely know each other, doctor.”

“All the same,” you chuckled.

A crease formed between your brow as you switched the first vial out to fill a second.

“Your blood is a strange color. Almost purple.”

“I noticed.”

You hummed, thoughtful.

“Do you have your medical records?” you asked.

“No, but you may be able to get them from my previous doctor.”

“And where is he?”

“The Undercity.”

You paused and looked up at him.

“The Undercity?”

He nodded.

“He was the closest to home.”

“I see…”

You didn’t realize that he was from the Undercity. It didn’t make a difference, but it could explain some things.

“Where in the Undercity?” you asked, as you finished up the second vial and hooked on a third.

“Mmm, I’d have to show you.”

“Would you?” you asked.

“Sure,” he nodded. “We can go after we’re finished here.”

“No,” you said, perhaps a little too hastily.

He tilted his head, curious.

“I can’t go during the day…”

He regarded the heavy curtains drawn over the big windows. His eyes went wide with realization.

“The sun.”

You nodded and unhooked the third vial, then removed the needle from his arm and pressed a cotton ball to the site. Instinctually, he held it in place while you grabbed the bandage.

“So vampires really do turn to ash in the sunlight, then?”

“Not immediately, but yes.”

You wrapped up his arm, disposed of the needles and your gloves, gathered the vials of his blood, and took them to each of their testing stations.

“The sunlight burns, quite literally,” you explained. “It’s more than a sunburn. Only a few moments in the sun can put me out of commission for quite some time.”

“There is so much misinformation surrounding your kind, I wasn’t sure if that one was true.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

"UV sensitivity... interesting..." he mused.

He was as curious about you as you were about him. There was a brief lull in the conversation while you scribbled some notes in his file and he considered your unique "condition".

“I would like to do a physical examination, if you don’t mind,” you said finally. “To make sure you’re in good health otherwise.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

You asked him to remove his shirt, and turned around to locate the stethoscope. When you turned back with the device in hand, you were caught off guard by the metal corset covering most of his torso.

“Does that come off?” you asked.

"With a bit of difficulty, yes."

He stood while you helped him remove the corset, and then took a moment to get a good look at his crooked spine. You ran your fingers gently over it, tracing the curve. What he was currently wearing was keeping it from bending any more, but it wouldn't fix the problem. You, however, might be able to. With his help, of course.

"You need something better than this," you told him.

"I... have been working on a design," he told you hesitantly. "A brace that will bolt to my spine, with a removable chest piece. But I would need a doctor to perform the surgery to put it in place."

"I can perform that surgery," you said as you gestured for him to sit back down and pressed the stethoscope against his chest.

You didn't actually need the stethoscope in order to hear his heart and lungs, but it was helpful at pinpointing certain sounds in certain locations.

“Deep breath,” you ordered him, and he obliged. “Another.”

He didn’t like the tone in your voice. Soft, but mixed with concern. You moved behind him to listen.

“One more.”

When you finished listening, you moved away to scribble more notes. He waited patiently.

“Your heart and circulation sound good,” you began, leaning back against the blank chalkboard.

“I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

“Your lungs don’t,” you said plainly.

He nodded.

“They don’t feel great either.”

As if on queue, he wheezed out a cough.

“You grew up in the Undercity?” you asked. “What is the air like down there?”

He scoffed.

“I grew up near the fissures. ‘Toxic’ is the only appropriate word.”

You cast your gaze downward, and a cold chill crept up Viktor’s spine. And then you were in your chair in front of him again, gazing at him with those deep ruby eyes. You rested your hand gently on his knee.

“I am your doctor, Viktor. My specialty may be blood, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the skills required to tend to the rest of your needs. I’ve spent the better part of my six-hundred years studying medicine, I’m going to do everything I can, use everything I’ve learned, to help you feel better.”

He was caught off guard by your conviction and the intensity of your gaze.

“I… I know you will, Doctor.”

“Good,” you smiled, and hopped to your feet, and he couldn’t help but notice just the slightest jerk in your hip, as if moving caused you pain. You didn’t pay it any mind, however, so it was an observation that he silently filed away for later.

“Can I take a look at your leg?” you asked.

“Of course.”

You averted your gaze while he stripped down to his underwear. There was a small bed on the opposite wall, and from it, you handed him a soft blanket, blue one one side, red on the other. He placed it in his lap. It wasn’t a hospital gown, but it was better than nothing. Your touch was gentle as you felt around his leg, cold fingers ghosting over his skin. He shivered.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “Probably should have put gloves on.”

“It’s alright.”

You felt each side of his knee, and then asked him to slowly extend his leg, feeling for the movement of tendon, muscle, and bone beneath the skin. You checked his ankle and toes as well, and then asked him to stand so you could check his hip. He left the blanket on his chair and stood before you. You wheeled your own chair around to his side, and he jerked slightly when your hands found him again. He was used to this kind of treatment after a lifetime of doctor’s visits. But this was different. Your touch was firm, but gentle. Caring. He had felt like a burden with his previous doctor, who had terrible bedside manner. With you, though… You touched him like he was made of porcelain.

Your hand drifted backward slightly, and you squeezed, just a bit, as you asked him to rock his leg backward. Then, it traveled forward, in the crease between his inner thigh and crotch. He held his breath as he gently swung his leg forward. And then your touch was gone and you were rising from your chair. You leaned past him, so close, to grab the blanket and return it to him. Your scent lingered when you walked away. You scribbled some more notes as he sat back down, and he found the sound surprisingly comforting.

“I need to get some scans,” you said. “Your lungs, spine, and leg. But we don’t have the equipment for that here, so I’m going to have to consult with someone at the hospital. While we’re waiting for them, I’ll work on your blood. Oh, and your leg could use a brace as well. If you fell like taking on some homework, you could design yourself one.”

He hummed thoughtfully, and you turned back to see him huddled up in the blanket.

“Oh, uh… Sorry,” you chuckled. “You can get dressed.”

He would have offered a snappy comeback, something about liking seeing him with no clothes on, but he was distracted. His skin felt like it was buzzing everywhere you’d touched him. Wordlessly, he got dressed while you organized the newest notes into their place in his file. He noticed the way your gaze flicked toward him every now and again. You couldn’t help it. You found him infinitely fascinating, not because of his blood or his bones or his fancy mechanical braces, but because he was him. Because he was Viktor. Handsome, kind, brilliant Viktor.

“These tests will take some time,” you told him. “I expect Heimerdinger will need you to get back to work, but, if you ever need to come into the lab, for anything at all, you’re more than welcome. The door will remain unlocked.”

He smiled as he finished buttoning up his vest.

“Thank you, Doctor. Your kindness is much appreciated.”

“Of course.”

He lingered for only a moment before turning to leave. The door opened with a hiss, but your voice stopped him.

“Oh, and Viktor?”

“Hmm?”

You smiled.

“Have some lunch. Doctor's orders.”

#my writing #arcane #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x male reader #viktor x male reader #viktor x reader #vampire reader

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