So I thought I’d give y’all some previews of the five fics I’m working on since I can’t focus today so I might as well do something:

Red Fairy!Tony and Blue Vampire!Steve (Modern Magical AU; magical creatures have colour types that dictate different features):

“Is this true, Fury?!” Tony flew into the room as soon as Coulson opened the office door, coming to flutter in front of the man, furious. “Did you enlist a goddamn leech onto our team?!”

Fury slowly blinked his one eye as he stood, needing to look up at the red fairy who was buzzing in front of him. “We enlisted a vampire, yes, Stark, and it’s none of your business who or what I choose to add to the team.”

Tony buzzed higher, hissing, “It damn well is my business as the only magic bearer on the team and you hired a goddamn blue vampire!”

Fury narrowed his eye, replying, “No one else on your team seems to have a problem with his colour orientation.”

“That’s because they’re not at risk. If he were damn red you know it’d be a problem.”

“You, yourself, are red, fae Stark,” Coulson added evenly, “And you’ve defended its importance repeatedly.”

“Because red attack magic comes in damn handy when you want firearms and repulsors,” Tony protested as he twisted in the air to glare at him as well, “A bit less so when it makes you a bloodsucker.”

“I am sure that you won’t be at any risk, Stark,” Fury said, rubbing at his temple as he sat back down, “Your red magic will be safe.”

“He is a blue vampire. They feed off magic,” Tony stressed as he spun again, “Do I really need to explain how this is a problem? Do you know how often fairies are put at risk by magic feeders?”

“Most fairies are,” Fury countered, “red ones are not. Apparently fae attack magic is not an appealing food source.”

Tony leveled him with a hard flare, then spun around to Coulson again, saying, “There’s got to be some kind of discrimination in that statement.”

Coulson gave a small shrug of his shoulders, answering mildly, “But it’s true, Fae Stark. Other fae denominations have been recorded as more popular when it comes magic consumption, particularly white and pink. Red fairies are rare enough as it is. The other more… delicate colours seem to be more alluring.”

“Or,” Tony contested, “maybe it’s because a bunch of healers and love workers don’t know how to fight. There’s nothing wrong with the allure of red fae magic.”

“Are you arguing that you should be more targeted, Stark?” Fury said, eyebrow furrowed.

“I’m saying,” Tony hissed, “that I will still be at risk because you think that having a defensive powerhouse is more important that another team member’s safety.”

It was then that Tony felt the shift in the air, as if the energy around him suddenly stilled and the warmth in the room dropped by degrees. In the doorway was the impressive form of a broad shouldered, pale skinned blond.

The man was perfectly collected and still, as he were a living statue. He spoke calmly, “I can assure you Mr. Stark, you will not be in any danger from me.”

Tony’s eyes went huge, and he finally landed on the carpeted floor. He looked quickly between all three other men before coming back to the cold bright blue of the blond. “Captain America?! That’s the blue vamp you got?! You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It was unmistakingly him. Tony had seen his father’s photos, had had posters of him plastered on his wall as a hero worshipping child and awkwardly hormonal teenager.

It was hard to miss the obvious features that Tony hadn’t cared about when he was younger, but were noticeably distinct of blue vampires. He had square features, like that of his jaw, and the wide set of his shoulders and broad chest. He was not at all built sharp or lithe like his red blood-drinking counterparts. Even the points of his fangs, still sheathed, were the shortest and least pointed of any vampire type, hardly noticeable when not bared. Finally, like most supernatural folk, there was the small, subtle point of his ears, even subtler than Tony’s own.

It was, in the general public opinion, a less threatening and more reassuring build, with blue vampires often being employed in positions of defense or security. For Tony, it set him on edge, like he was an unbreakable statue that could come to life at any moment, and move faster than he could blink.

Tony’s wings fluttered nervously, wanting to stir up some movement from the odd stillness about him. His senses were completely on edge, knowing that the calm control of the other man was hiding something being very subdued.

Captain Rogers broke the stillness softly with a small smile, saying gently, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark. I knew your father.”

Any starry eyed delight from meeting his childhood hero vanished in a second, and Tony felt his stomach drop. “Oh goddesses no, I am not working with him.”

Keep reading

Throne of Thorns

[Demon!Tony AU drabble. Warnings: sortofchildeath. General lack of empathy. Sorry.]

His suit is perfect. As is his hair, his posture, and his wolfish grin. He makes them swoon and babble, all but falling at his feet with raw desire to please him.

Because he was their king.

Not the king they needed, no, but the king they craved. The king who walks across their backs, kissing babies and women and, oh yes, sometimes men. He kisses everyone who catches his eye and is deserving enough.

Tonight, no one is deserving, but they still bask in his presence and every excuse to touch him is made. A stumble, a simple brush of their fingers across the back of his hand as they reach for their glass and it’s pathetic, hilarious.

He loves it. He breathes it in, feeding off of their hunger.

And as the lights of the innocent go dark across the city, Tony Stark tosses his head back and roars.


Keep reading

The 100 Words that Make the English - Tony Thorne

I tend to fold over the corner of pages with nice bits on when I read books. This book has 6 folds, all within the first half - making the latter half a bit drier. Overall I quite enjoyed it, but none of the words Thorne chooses go into a huge amount of depth and it wasn’t as English-y as I’d hoped.

Favourite quotation - “‘my dear old crumpet’ surfaced as an innocent [Ed: chyeah right] term of (male to male) endearment in the vocabulary of Bertie Wooster”