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tisfan · 6 years

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Make his Mark

Title: Make his Mark Collaborator: @27dragons & @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: O4 - Marking Ship: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Major Tags: Sex, Anal Sex, Semi-public Sex, Marking, not your father’s coffee shop AU Summary: When the tabloids report that Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes’ marriage is going to end in divorce any day now, the queue starts forming to ”comfort” Tony. Bucky wants to make sure everyone knows that Tony is his.

Everyone. Word Count: 2,880 Created for @mcukinkbingo

A/N: We would apologize for hijacking the People Magazine meme, but we’re not actually sorry. Also, this story takes place in the Communal Kitchen AU, somewhat after Long Winter, but you don’t need to know anything about it, except that Bucky and Tony are married.

Everything below the readmore, for smut

There was nothing finer than looking up at Tony, straddling Bucky’s thighs, glistening with sweat, each muscle outlined with golden candlelight, as Bucky very slowly pushed up into that heat. They had the penthouse to themselves, all the kids were gone, and half of the Avengers with them. With relative privacy and the assurance of no interruptions, Bucky had taken his husband to bed, with the intentions of staying there for most of the evening.

Tony raised up, then rolled his hips as he sank back down, shuddering with the sensation. He put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders to change the angle and rocked again, humming with the shifting position. “Article in today’s People says you’re not in love with me anymore,” he mentioned.

Bucky choked and spluttered, then groaned as that changed the way they were fitting together. “Tony, I am literally balls deep in your ass right now,” he pointed out. He flexed his hips, fingers gripping Tony’s thighs. He clenched his jaw in an effort not to spill over right away; his dick often seemed to have an urge to make a point, somehow.

“Mm, yeah, I noticed that.” Tony dug his toes into the mattress for balance and pushed back onto Bucky’s cock even harder than before. “But do you still like me?”

Bucky slid an arm around Tony’s back and before he could protest, rolled them over until he was on top, sliding even deeper with each thrust, as if he could permanently become one with his husband. He leaned in, until his mouth was hovering mere millimeters away from Tony’s. Until speaking brushed their lips together. “I am so into you, baby,” Bucky said, “that nothin’ gonna pull me out.” He demonstrated, by way of pushing Tony’s knees back until they were practically touching his ears.

Tony’s breath caught and his hands clenched in the sheets. “Glad to h-hear it,” he groaned. “Oh, Christ, yes, right there, more.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, rocking with him, stroking Tony with each heartbeat, kissing him thoroughly. He was going to come quicker; driving down into Tony’s lithe, beautiful body always drove him wild. “You know I love you.” He balanced on the metal arm, getting a hand between them to tease Tony’s dick. “Don’t you?”

“Course I do,” Tony panted. “‘M just sayin, the press is at us again. And you know-- oh! Oh, yeah, sweetheart, just like that -- you know what it means when that happens.”

Bucky almost snarled; settled for purring in Tony’s ear, instead. “Means some stupid, mislead idiots with delusions of adequacy are gonna come crawlin’ out of the woodwork, hopin’ for a bite of Tony Stark.” He nipped at Tony’s throat, down to worry at Tony’s collarbone, sucking up a red mark. He ran his thumb back and forth over the crown of Tony’s cock, smearing precome around.

“God, it should not be so hot when you get possessive,” Tony swore. “You know I don’t want anyone else, baby.”

“I know,” Bucky said, and he did, he knew that. Tony had never even had to prove himself to Bucky; they’d held each other’s lives and hearts and heads since they practically met. He didn’t have doubts. “Jus’ don’t like ‘em circling around you like blowflies. You’re not someone’s prize.” He sucked in a breath, thrust in, and twisted his wrist at the same time. “You’re mine.”

Tony threw his head back on a cry and came, spilling over Bucky’s fist to splash across his stomach. “Yours,” he gasped. “Always.” He reached up to curl his fingers into Bucky’s hair. “And you’re mine. Moy soldat.”

Bucky arched, that squeeze and heat, so perfect… he gasped for air, everything clenching down, and then-- “Oh, god.” Deep and molten and shivering, Bucky let it go, pleasure zipping from nerve to nerve as he came, crying Tony’s name. He chased after his breath for a bit, heart throbbing painfully in his chest, practically squashing Tony while he recovered his wits.

“Do I like you,” Bucky said, rolling over and spreading out over as much of the bed as he could get, trying to cool down. “What idiocy. Of course I like you. Like you, love you, want you, need you. Everything. All of it. There aren’t even words.”

Tony sighed in satisfaction. “We might have to put on a show for the press again,” he said. “Since it seems to be a slow news week.”

Bucky rolled up onto his elbow. “What a hardship.”

Really, as Tony got older, you’d think the number of people trying to hit on him would decrease. Sure, he was pretty fit for his age, still a billionaire, still a celebrity superhero, and there were always going to be people who found that attractive; Tony had long since resigned himself to the occasional offer from a fan with little to lose. But since the latest round of the gossip rags proclaiming that Tony and Bucky were going to call it quits Any Day Now, it seemed every third person he met was trying to get into his pants.

Bucky hadn’t even left Tony’s side for five minutes at the last event they’d been at before some society darling had pressed up against Tony’s side and offered to help him through those lonely nights.

Honestly, the woman was lucky that Bucky had only flayed her with words on his return; Tony was pretty certain he’d been mentally doing much worse.

Tony didn’t know where the gossip sites got their speculation from. It’s not like they’d stopped being affectionate with each other -- the kids were forever complaining about it, actually. Which only made them do it more, because it was funny. But apparently, that was too subtle. They were going to have to take things a little bit farther to get the message across.

Bucky, who normally contained himself to shooting at bad guys, and the occasional knife fight when one got too close, switched it up a bit and picked up one of the Not-Quite-Doombots (Tony didn’t know what they were, but they weren’t Doom’s robots, those things were dangerous, these were more like knock-off, dollar store bots. Annoying, clunky, and prone to malfunctions. The Avengers were only called in because there were so many of them) and threw it.

The ‘bot crashed into a nearby coffee shop and sent patrons screaming away. The way Bucky glared at the shop, without paying the least bit attention to the scrap metal he’d just failed to recycle, made Tony wonder if the collateral damage was a little more directed than usual.

But that was the last one. Nothing was still standing that wasn’t wearing signature colors (and the bystanders, who were by-fleers). Bucky took two running steps, hit a park bench, and leaped, getting an arm around Tony and practically tackling him to the ground. It was a good thing Tony had all sorts of shock resistance built into the armor. As it was, the fall jolted his breath out of him and Bucky thumbed the helmet’s release and was kissing him before Tony could recover his air.

“Mph--” Tony tried to say, then gave up and kissed his husband. It was shorter than usual, because air was a thing, and Tony hadn’t started out with a full breath. “Fighting knockoff Doombots gets you hot and bothered now?” he teased.

“No,” Bucky said. He nuzzled at Tony’s jaw. “College girls daring each other to flash Iron Man when he flew by kinda pisses me off, though. That one in th’ blue shirt left her damn brassiere on the table.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “No subtlety at all,” he complained. “Think it’s time to do something about this mess?”

“Mmmm,” Bucky said. He rolled to his feet and offered Tony a hand up. Steve was squawking over comms about the cleanup. Bucky made a face, tugged his earpiece out and threw it over his shoulder. “Fight fire with fire.” He lifted Tony up, armor and all, kissed him again, like they were in some sort of romcom and the wreckage of the street was a field of flowers.

Tony returned the kiss, with interest. “Have I mentioned before how hot it is that you can manhandle me in the suit?” He grinned down at his husband.

“You an’ the suit don’t even weigh what Thor does,” Bucky said. At Tony’s dubious look, Bucky added, “we did ‘get help’ last fight. It was fun.” He turned and carried Tony right back to the coffee shop, which was abandoned and ruined. Bucky took particular pains to step on the lacy bralette laying, forgotten, on the floor. He pushed into the back office, depositing Tony on the desk and swept it clear of rubble.

“Really?” Tony asked. “This is your choice of location?” He didn’t waste any time unfolding himself from the suit. He glanced up at the security camera in the corner and shot it with an EMP blast. There was a limit to how much evidence he wanted the press to get their hands on.

“Smells better than a broom cupboard,” Bucky said with a shrug. “An’ if someone’s gettin’ naked about you in a coffee shop, it’s gonna be me.” He worked open his armor one handed. “Gonna be a quickie. Once I’m outta this shit, I don’t like t’ put it back on until it’s clean.” He licked his way into Tony’s mouth, one hand sliding down the underflight suit until he reached Tony’s hip. “But I’ll make you feel real good, baby.”

“Promises, promises,” Tony taunted, groping down the front of Bucky’s armor and generally interfering with Bucky’s attempt to get it opened, until he got his hand on Bucky’s cock. “Already hard for it? You sure it wasn’t the ‘bots?” Tony grinned impishly until Bucky growled and leaned in to kiss the smirk off his face.

“Maybe a little bit th’ ‘bots,” Bucky said. “It’s nice t’ cut loose an’ not worry about hurtin’ people.” He groaned, pushing against Tony’s hand. “Gonna be even quicker than a quickie if you keep doin’ that.”

Tony was pretty sure Bucky would be able to manage a second round if he did shoot off quick, but it was also a pretty good bet that Steve or someone else would come looking for them if they were missing too long, so they probably didn’t have time for two rounds.

Tony wasn’t completely hard yet -- he wasn’t as fast on the draw as Bucky -- but the warm press of Bucky’s body and the firm stroke of Bucky’s hand as it slipped into the suit was getting him there pretty easily. “RPF,” he murmured. “Coffee shop AU.”

“Look at you, baby,” Bucky crooned. “Love it when you’re all sweaty ‘n dishevelled.” He rubbed Tony’s shaft with the heel of his hand, fingers teasing at his balls while he taunted Tony with more kisses, his tongue flicking over Tony’s lips in quick, heated strokes.

Tony groaned and tipped his head back, tugging Bucky’s mouth toward his throat. “Oh, yeah, yes, Bucky...”

Bucky fastened his mouth on Tony’s throat, a sharp nip and flare of pain as Bucky sucked all the blood to the surface, tonguing the spot when he was done. He rutted against Tony’s thigh, hips moving urgently. He kissed Tony again, hard and quick, then pushed him a little higher on the desk until he was sitting on it, Bucky tucked in the vee of Tony’s legs. “Gonna eat you right up like an ice cream.” Bucky slid to one knee, matching actions to works and took Tony down to the root in a single motion. His mouth was a hot, slick inferno and his tongue worked at Tony’s skin with skill and agility.

“Oh Christ,” Tony gasped. Quick, indeed; there was no slow savoring here. Bucky worked him with raw, ruthless efficiency, proving just how well Bucky knew Tony’s body. He clenched his hands in Bucky’s hair, hanging on for dear life. “God, Bucky, yes...”

Bucky slid two fingers into his mouth, teasing at Tony’s cock, his tongue working in between them, then, slippery with spit, drew them back, along the crease of Tony’s thigh until he was pressing at the entrance to Tony’s body, a quick little caress and tease, circling and encouraging Tony to thrust up, into Bucky’s mouth. The noises he was making were obscene, slick and wet, moaning almost continuously.

Tony whined and pushed up into the welcoming heat of Bucky’s mouth and throat. He shuddered at the sensation, and Bucky pressed one finger into Tony’s hole, not far, just enough to stretch and burn a little. It was enough to tip him over the edge. He cursed and jerked and then came, shooting down Bucky’s throat in a warm wave.

Bucky licked and tormented him through the aftershocks, until Tony was weakly batting him away, overstimulated and jittery. Bucky licked at his lip, his mouth red and swollen and used looking, face pink, hair sticking to his forehead. “You are utterly, utterly wrecked, babydoll,” Bucky said, smug jerk that he was.

“You’re not much better,” Tony retorted. He gingerly tucked himself back into his undersuit. “Do I get a turn at wrecking you next?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, eyes flashing eagerly. “Wanna feel you, baby, your nice warm skin. Got a hand for me?”

“For you, sweetheart, always.” Tony dragged his hand over Bucky’s cock, teasing a little before wrapping firmly around it. He kissed down Bucky’s neck, sucking at the skin. “Think if I work hard enough at it, I can give you a hickey that’ll last long enough for some pap to get a picture?” he wondered. He sucked a little harder, pulling the soft skin between his teeth.

Bucky groaned, pushing into the pressure of Tony’s mouth, head falling back in supplication. “Don’t know that I even care,” he said, “damn, that feels good, Tony, oh, oh, yeah, like that, baby.”

Bucky might have started their tryst as a possessive marking of territory, but once he was into it, Tony was his sole focus. It was a little humbling, sometimes, the raw, naked longing that Tony could see in Bucky’s every movement. From the way he shuddered under Tony’s hand to the savage wantonness of his cries.

“That’s it,” Tony coaxed, working his hand faster, rolling over the tip to spread precome down Bucky’s cock. “So gorgeous, so perfect for me. Come for me, sweetheart, I want to feel you coming.” He licked at Bucky’s neck, the salty tang of sweat and skin, and if he hadn’t just climaxed, he’d be getting hard again.

Bucky rolled up onto his toes, fucking up into Tony’s hand. His fingers clamped down on Tony’s shoulders and he let his mouth drop open, all the stress and worries dropping off his features until they were smooth and relaxed. His eyes fluttered shut and then, “Oh, god, Tony.” His hips stuttered, pistoning wildly, two, three strokes. A soft sigh and he arched into it, painting Tony’s belly, hip, and the thigh of his flight suit with come.

Tony stroked him through it, peppering his face and neck with kisses. “So wonderful, so beautiful,” he murmured. He nosed at Bucky’s temple, dropping a soft kiss there. “Now who’s wrecked?” he teased.

“One ‘a these days,” Bucky said, huffing out a breath, “I’m gonna make you carry me.” He shuddered, resting his forehead against Tony’s shoulder for a long moment before yanking his tactical pants back up around his hips. He tucked himself in, belted the pants, but left the shirt open, showing off his chest, and a few round, red bite marks.

Tony found some napkins to wipe up the mess and then got himself back into the armor. He left the helmet off; the tender spot on his neck where Bucky had sucked a hickey would probably show nicely, and it definitely wasn’t a combat injury. “You want me to give you a lift back up to the ‘jet?”

Bucky took a step back, his knees obviously shaky. “Yes, yes, I would like that,” he decided, firmly. “You can sit with me on th’ way back to the Tower. I don’t think we need an aerial escort today.”

“Your wish is my command.” Tony caught Bucky’s hand in his -- he couldn’t feel it through the gauntlet, but it was nice anyway -- and led the way back out into the street. He caught Bucky around the waist. “Hold on,” he said. He waved at a returning bystander, giving their cell camera a bright press smile, and then took off, Bucky’s arms twined around his neck.

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked, as they landed in the ‘jet.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky said. “Just needed a hand with somethin’.”

Steve took a step forward, as if concerned, then his nostrils flared. “Buck!”

Jessica Jones, who was stripping out of her armor with very little regard for modesty, looked up. “What?”

“You can’t smell that?” Steve grimaced. “Really? Really, Buck?”

Bucky’s mouth twitched until he was forced to duck his chin to hide a wide grin and flushed cheeks. “Really.”

Tony dropped onto the bench beside his husband. “No need to get excited about it, Cap,” he said, probably more smugly than he should. “It’s just a little territory marking.”

#mcukinkbingo #tony x bucky #winteriron #marking #possessive bucky #communal kitchen

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alternativewinxcontinuity · 6 years

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Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost

This was supposed to be crack, it didn't turn out that way and I am so, so sorry.

'Clean' Edit - the other version of this post is only a few lines different, nothing plot related, but some characters made assumptions that I felt warranted a trigger warning.

Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost (part 01)

Winx Pilot Episode AU

Bloom turns a corner and heads to the beach, Stella deals with the fall out.

If you go down to the woods today

Gardenia : Earth

Bloom fought back tears as she rode away from Mitzi, trying not to let the bully know she'd gotten under Bloom's skin. From the basket of her bike, Kiko made a worried, inquiring noise.

“I'm okay Kiko,” dashing away a tear that escaped her eye, Bloom checked the traffic and turned the corner, heading to the beach.

Deep in the wooded area of Gardenia's largest park, a magical battle was taking place. Or it had been.

As a young blonde woman struggled against the hold of several ghouls, a large yellow ogre picked a glowing staff off the ground, holding it aloft triumphantly. The young woman screamed at him, her voice muffled by a ghouls hand, her attempts weakened as she finally reached her limit.

Tears slipped from her eyes as the ogre opened a portal, summoning the ghouls to him as he stepped through, her staff clutched in his hands.

Freed at last, the young woman scrambled to her feet, on her back small wings fluttered, her feet left the ground and she flew across the small distance, crashing into a tree as the portal closed just before she reached it. With a weak cough, she fell to the ground, her form glowing as she lost consciousness, her clothes changing, her hair spilling loose from its ties.

Alone in the park, the injured fairy sleeps.

Stella woke to cold and pain, shivering at the base of a tree. Her eyes darted around the clearing, looking for any sign of... anything. Foot prints from the ogre had left shallow indents in the ground hidden by the grass. Not that she could see much of anything in the post dusk gloom.

Using the tree to get to her feet she staggered. Across her skin small scratches from the ghouls claws stung, bruising was beginning to spread from where she'd been hit, and from where she'd hit the tree.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she winced as her ribs protested, then refocused, calling to her magic.

“No,” she'd drained herself nearly dry trying to fight off her assailants, she barely had any energy left to burn. “Okay, okay,” she said to herself to try and focus her thoughts, “I just, need to figure out where I am.” Stella slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

Her very broken phone. In the dark of the woods, the Princess of Solaria swore. She knew next to nothing about electronics, past how to find the 'on' switch. She'd need help to repair her device.

Which meant finding people.

She tilted her head back and eyed the stars which were beginning to litter the night sky. She shivered again as a cool night breeze rustled through the trees, its cold fingers caressing her bare midriff and arms.

The stars above were unfamiliar to her, not a single constellation rang a bell. Stella swore again.

'It's fine,' she told herself, 'I can... I... it's fine, I'll be fine, just... find some people.' Calming herself as best she could, Stella opened her mind to the Voice of Nature. She was no plant fairy, but the Fairy of the Sun and Moon was more than capable of hearing the Voice.

She just hadn't practised in several months, since the last time she'd had to for class before her... expulsion. She'd certainly never done it with such low magic reserves.

The Voice in the woods was sluggish, sleepy, as though it wasn't used to whispering in the ears of fairies. 'People?' it said, 'yes, there are people, this way. And this way, and that way as well.'

“Great,” Stella hissed, annoyed at the Voice of Nature's unhelpfulness. 'Well,' she thought, 'at least I know it doesn't matter which way I go, as long as I go, there will be people.'

Steeling herself, Stella took a few steps forwards, stumbling and falling as her ankle gave way. With a cry she hit the ground, knees and hands stinging at the impact. Whimpering she rolled to her side, turning to sit on her behind so she could check her hands and knees, barely visible in the dark. Her ankle throbbed, and Stella recalled the too tight grip of a ghoul in the same spot.

Stella swore for a third time, then a fourth and fifth, and kept swearing for a long, long minute.

She should have been at Alfea by now, enjoying her school bed in her nice, warm, well lit dorm, not injured in some dark, cool, back of nowhere woods.

Her next breath was shaking, like the kind that came with tears. 'Crying solves nothing!' she berated herself, untying her wedge sandals. She could either stumble around in the wedges, or she could risk going bare foot, and given the state of her ankle, she decided bare feet would be the lesser of two evils.

If she'd had more magic, she might have conjured one of her suitcases from its carry space and pulled on some flats, and put on a jacket, but the way she was feeling, even that would dry up her barely there reserves, and she'd be worse off than before.

Standing again, Stella began to walk, her limp far less noticeable without the sandals now dangling from her fingers. As she moved through the trees she mentally berated herself.

Why hadn't she just accepted the royal escort, why had she'd decided to go alone?

But she knew why, she'd chosen to teleport herself with the Staff of Solaria. A near instant transportation which had been hijack mid- transit. Something which should have been impossible.

After a long few minutes, Stella spotted lights through the trees, golden glowing lamps which, as she drew closer, she could see lined a walk way. People walked here and there, though only a few. Judging by their manner of dress, Stella thought they might not feel as cold as she did. As she walked further from the tree line, the people turned to stare at her, a few making aborted motions as if they wanted to approach her but decided against it. Self conscious, Stella wrapped her arms around herself and kept walking.

A woman made her way over to her, a man trailing a fair way behind.

“kbem, nladjb anvu ksadbvlw?” Stella stopped, looking at the woman with confusion and mounting dread. The woman looked standard, but the language she spoke wasn't translating. The possible reasons for that were few, and Stella could only think of two: she didn't have enough magic to operate the Universal Translation Spell (which was the magical equivalent of land-dwellers breathing), or she was on a world that had been cut of from the rest of the Magical Dimension for so long, the UTS didn't have an up-to-date vocabulary for it.

Both scenarios were terrifying.

“I'm sorry, I don- I don't understand,” Stella's voice cracked slightly as she was struck by just how lost she was. The woman didn't seem to understand Stella's language either, but she smiled kindly and held out a jacket, Stella wasn't sure what the woman was doing, and just stared at the coat. The woman frowned when Stella didn't move, Stella worried she'd committed a serious mis-step, but a look of realisation passed across the woman's face, and she pulled the jacket back, point to Stella and made an exaggerated shivering motion, rubbing her arms, and held the jacket out again.

Stella realised she herself was shivering heavily, and that the woman was offering the coat to keep warm. With a grateful “thank you,” Stella took the coat and slipped it around her shoulders like a cape, holding it closed with one hand.

The woman pointed to Stella again, speaking as she did, then pointed to herself and a bench nearby.

She began repeating the series of motions when Stella got it. 'You and me, let's go sit.' With a hesitant nod, Stella began moving towards the bench. As the two women went, Stella noticed the man who'd been trailing the other woman, standing nearby and talking quietly into a mobile phone.

'Well, at least I'm not in a no-tech world,' Stella mused, clutching the jacket a little tighter around herself.

The bench they sat down on was just to the side a pair of lamps, the area well lit. Stella took the chance to check her hands, which were smeared with green from the grass, though the skin didn't seem broken. Sweeping the side of her long skirt to the side, she grimaced, the hand print of the ghoul was clear and dark on her skin.

The woman spoke again, indicating between them, but Stella had no idea what the woman wanted now. The woman tried again, the words sounded... different. Not just different words but... something about them didn't sound like the words the woman had been using thus far. It happened several times as the woman tried to communicate, and finally Stella got it.

“I'm from Solaria, do you speak Solan? How about Dimensional Standard? No chance you know Arcane Royal? Oh, what about Old Fae? No? Urgh, I don't no any other languages well enough to matter!”

The duo ran out of languages to try, and Stella felt like crying. How could she be this far from anything familiar?!

The call of a male voice made her look up. The man on the phone was waving people in their direction.

Stella almost laughed. It seemed at least one thing was familiar, even here on this strange world, she could tell some of the people coming over were medical professionals. The rest she thought might be some kind of guard, though civilian, royal or military she couldn't say. But all of them were women.

Sitting in the sterile room in a white gown, Stella was mortified. When the medical and security personnel had arrived at the park, she'd been happy, because she was in pain and cold and lost and had thought they'd be able to help her.

And they had, for the most part. With some of the most non-magical tech she had ever seen. Everyone had spoken to her in low gentle tones, several people had been brought in to try new languages, and some of the law enforcement agents had taken photos of her.

Stella was sore, and tired and so low on magic that it made her feel gross, and she was sick and tired of being poked and prodded.

Her clothes had been taken away, from her wedges to her headdress, and the medical staff had begun giving her strange looks, whispering in harsh tones to each other, almost excited.

Stella was beginning to get a bad feeling about everything.

She'd finally begun picking up a few words here and there, the UTS took far longer to work on new languages when people were talking at her rather than with her or, more commonly over the last few hours, around her and moving in and out of the room so often she couldn't get a decent conversation to happen in range.

When the men in suits showed up though, she didn't need to understand their words. Greed leaked from them with terrifying intensity. They looked at her like a thing rather than a person.

One of the nurses, the kind one who'd brought Stella a second serving of bland food despite the doctor's disproving frown, stepped between the men and Stella, waving a clipboard full of paper work in their faces and speaking over them as loud as she could.

One of the law officers stepped forward, demanding I.D., and one of the men in suits pushed back his fancy jacket to reach a wallet. Stella froze, her stomach plummeting.

Stella wasn't stupid, she'd seen plasma blasters and laser rifles and slug throwers before. She wasn't stupid, and the design might have been completely alien to her, but she knew a gun when she saw it. While the man handed over his I.D. Stella tugged on the sleeve of the nearby nurse and made a squirming motion, pretending like she had to pee really badly. With a beckoning motion, the nurse directed her to a door just down the hall. One of the men moved to stop her, but the nurse held up her hands and planted herself firmly in his way, say something firmly.

Stella could only make out a few words, something about 'peeing in the car'?

Letting out a slightly hysterical snort, she slipped into the restroom and away from the men in suits. The restroom had several stalls, which would work in Stella's favour, as long as she didn't over do it. Taking care of business first, because she kind of really did need to go, Stella summoned one of her suitcases from its carry space and opened it open on a closed toilet lid. It wasn't the one she'd thought it was, but it would have to do.

Quickly, she dressed in long pants and a long sleeved top, finding her pair of emergency flats at the bottom. Going commando was not ideal, but for now she needed to conserve as much magic as she could and she still had a cosmetic spell to cast. Snagging her pair of light reactive glasses before shoving her case away, she peeked out of her stall to check for witnesses. Seeing no one, she stepped across to the sinks, rinsing her hands a final time and patting them dry before focusing on her hair.

Changing hair colour was one of the first transformation spells Wizgiz taught students at Alfea. Stella was a pro at cosmetic magic, but even so, there were ways to lessen the magical requirements of the spell. Rather than change her hair completely, Stella let the natural echo of her father's genes take over, the deep ginger of his hair spilling through her own golden locks.

With quick hand motions, Stella twisted her hair into a stylishly messy braid, performing the little hair twist she'd learnt to lock the plait in place without a hair band, and slipped her glasses on. Technically they were sun glasses, but with their light reactive properties, the lenses only darkened in the sun.

Stepping back Stella smiled, she looked different enough from herself that she should be able to walk right past every one with out being stopped.

Staring her reflection in the eye Stella said “you've got this.”

As much as she'd like to stay and receive medical assistance, every fibre of her being was screaming at her to run, that the men in suits were Bad News.

Straightening her back, Stella left the restroom, walking calmly down the hall, barely sparing a glance at the men in suits who were still waiting for the blonde in the hospital gown to come back. No one spared Stella a second glance.

Cloud Tower : Magix

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” Glass shattered as a white haired witch let loose a blast of energy, rage contorted her face as she glared at the ring before her. Nearby by, two other witches were watching her with a hint of fear, more afraid of her rage, than they were angry at the ring.

“NOTHING!????? HOW!? This trinket is useless to us!”

“Icy-”

“WHAT!” The brunette flinched back slightly.

“The Ring of Solaria is still really powerful-”

“But it's not the Dragon Fire!”

The witch in red leaned forward, “but maybe we can use its power to find the Dragon Fire?”

Icy eyed her thoughtfully, a malicious grin forming on her face.

AO3 Part 02

#Winx #Winx Club #Winx AU #Winx Club AU #Pilot episode AU #Princess Solaria AU #Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost #clean edit #Winx Alt Con #Winx Alt Alt Con #Stella #Winx Club Stella #Stella-centric

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trulycertain · 7 years

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The Shield Raised Masterpost

May also be of interest: The Great Big Masterpost (everything I’ve ever written on Tumblr) The Armour masterpost (F!Amell/Alistair) The An Unquenchable Flame masterpost (F!Trevelyan/Cullen) The Knight Shop masterpost (multi-writer modern AU)

Shield Raised is a series of drabbles about my stoic, awkward Trevelyan, Gal, and his romance with Dorian. a.k.a., “A Marcher nearly-templar, a Tevinter altus, and a slow understanding.” The Inquisition-era ones (though not the pre- and post-game ones) are collected on AO3 here.

Pre-Inquisition

sans peur et sans reproche: Basically, Gal’s angsty backstory. Chantries, angry young men and controlling mothers.

Haven

Rejection: The Herald has barely spoken since he arrived. (Josephine, Gal and the beginning of a tentative friendship.)

Futures: Dorian thinks the supposed Herald of Andraste is rather… odd.

The Measure: Dorian, Gal and a slow understanding. Also Dorian working out. Because apparently that’s important?

Drinking with the Tevinter: The Inquisition isn’t happy having someone from the Imperium in its ranks. Gal feels rather differently.

Questions and Answers: Gal gets upset and a bit drunk and finally opens up about his past. That’s pretty much it.

pictures in the snow: The attack on Haven and Gal’s apparent death.

Skyhold

Crossing: Turns out Gal’s alive. Cue Skyhold, UST and a step forwards.

Mamihlapinatapei: Promptfic. Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.

Sweet Nothing: The companions attempt to be helpful because the UST is getting painful to watch. Gal and Dorian do not appreciate it, but it gives them food for thought.

Liminal: Dorian tries to deal with being chucked into the Fade, and then with his father, and lines are crossed. Angsty as hell, even by Shield Raised standards.

Out Of My Head: Post-Last Resort Of Good Men. Dorian gets drunk, tries not to snog Gal and is homesick.

Answers: In which they finally spit it out. Only took them 21k.

Rumours: A revised and improved rewrite of “Answers.” Blech, kissing.

Attachment: Some fluff, some angst, some snogging. In the aftermath of That Kiss, Gal and Dorian try to work out what this thing between them is.

Truths: Homesickness, making out, and Dorian playing the “what, of course I’m not falling for him, what do you mean I called him amatus, I don’t even know what that means” game.

Promises: “Wishing but wondering, wounded and wistful. What if he doesn’t want me after?” A seduction, and Dorian waiting to get his heart broken. As usual.

the light of day: In which all the companions have an opinion. Of course.

Chess: Gal gets trounced at chess by a twelve-year-old. Oh, and he and Irene talk about happiness.

Pretexts: SFW, despite subject matter. Gal attempts to find time to do some “paperwork.” Said paperwork has a moustache.

Gifts, and surprises: Two short drabbles for the prompts “Did you do this?” and “So uh. I noticed you’re kinda naked. Is that intentional, or… ?” Gal and Dorian attempt to be spontaneous, with varying levels of success.

Sers: SFW, but written for #sexlaughterhonesty Week and the theme “coitus interruptus”. In which a messenger is privy to too much.

A Request: Short snippet. Josephine and Gal, pre-Winter Palace.

Formality: Why they got scruffy!Gal at Halamshiral, despite Josephine’s wishes.

A letter found on the Inquisitor’s desk: For the Dragon Age 100 prompt “Family.” Gal and an old friend from the Chantry days.

The Golden Floor: Halamshiral fluff, and why dancing can sometimes be an act of bravery.

Kohl: The adventures of Gal and Dorian and their battles with eyeliner. Does a little bit of timeline-hopping.

Mornings: On waking up together and Gal’s ridiculously large bed.

Mutual Domesticity: “You didn’t think I lived in leathers, did you?”

Maps: Short promptfic for “kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.“

Dignity: Very daft fluff. Gal’s battles with the Helm of the Inquisitor. And prima sandwicha.

Ironically, Zombie Spider: What it says on the tin. Dorian really, really needs to stop idle magic experiments.

For Now: The Arbour Wilds fallout, and the “I’m going back to Tevinter” conversation. Angst, 5.1k.

“So if Gal’s 'amatus’, what does he call you?” Very short headcanon drabble thing.

Post-game

A Problem: Spans from shortly after their meeting to post-game. About 7k. Dorian and his struggles with The Dreaded L Word.

The Hangover: The big “we survived” celebration. Gal finally gets truly, astonishingly drunk, and emotional honesty happens. Much to his horror. Also: sorbet.

Malapert: Promptfic. Malapert - Clever in manners of speech.

“I love you” - said loudly, so everyone can hear

The Trespasser hair: Short, silly headcanon drabble.

Trespasser

Worst Case Scenario: Angsty AU drabble where Trespasser was even more difficult for Gal and Dorian. I let these two be happy sometimes. I promise.

Green: How Trespasser actually went. Truthfully, it’s not much less angsty than the AU.

Post-Trespasser

on the turning away: Leaving, and coming back.

Depth Over Distance: Gal, Dorian and managing the long-distance thing. Partly epistolary. Also, the return of Erren.

The Trespasser hair, part two: Gal has opinions on long-haired Dorian.

“I love you” - said as a thank you

Pain: Gal gets another tattoo. Dorian has… thoughts on it. Written for a Dragon Age 100 Challenge prompt.

A Question: What it says on the tin.

AUs

it’s running you with red: A short, miserable red-templar!Gal drabble.

Birthright (AO3): Another of the not quite fairy tales: the Cinderella AU no-one asked for. In a world where things happened slightly differently, Dorian takes a masked ball as a chance to covertly investigate this Inquisition he’s heard so much about. It’s only one night. Not much can go wrong. Can it? (Spoiler: The answer is yes. Or it can go very, very right.)

“Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.” (All things change, and we change with them.) For a prompt. In which a time travel experiment goes wrong and Dorian ends up meeting a very sad eighteen-year-old stuck-in-the-Chantry Gal.

Reprise: Or “the one where Gal freaks out and breaks up with Dorian in Trespasser because he is an idiot, and they have to sort things out nearly two years later.” Ten-parter (there is a lot of mess to sort out). Over at AO3 | On Tumblr: Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | Angsty extra drabble | 9 | 10

That very silly modern AU where they met at Yvaine’s wedding

Antivan Brandy: “I’d make an excellent spy. Charming, handsome, perfect teeth and hair…”

july forever (AO3): These visiting Tevinters are going to be fundamental for trade. The Trevelyans' son is under no circumstances to do anything stupid or inappropriate to embarrass the family, like seducing any of their foreign guests. Unfortunately, said Tevinters' son has rather different ideas.The "angry young men have a doomed summer romance" AU.

The Knight Shop stuff (modern-ish fluff-ish AU)

Terms & Conditions - The problem with distinguished old houses is that they tend to fall down around your ears when ignored for a decade. Dorian needs a handyman (possibly a whole squad of them). Gal is... well, a one-man most-of-a-squad. Or a knight.

Revenge - Gal’s all pink round the edges due to the Shop’s newest customer. Time for Alistair to tease him relentlessly about it. “I didn’t know ‘seventeenth-century villain’ was your type, but whatever works for you…”

“The washing machine broke, I almost lost my keys, the car got dented, and a wasp got into the house and hijacked the bedroom for four days! Four. Days.” Promptfic. The Knight Shop AU I will someday write properly with these two.

A to B - That time Dorian ended up on the back of Gal’s bike. Yeah, really.

DELETED SCENES

The First Round - Very important shirtless *cough* plot.

Happiness - Gal, Irene and a game of chess

Graphic depictions of cuddling

If asked, “When did you first fall in love?” both Gal and Dorian will struggle to answer the question.

OUTTAKES

Tru and Gal get a pint together, part one

Tru and Gal get a pint together, part two

“Only one orgy?”

Very, very bad jokes

HEADCANONS/COMMENTARY

Gal headcanons and history

More headcanons/extra info on Gal

Why Gal is called Galahad

Half-asleep Gal

Haircanons - Gal’s “phases” after DAI

Ten questions for Gal

Pros and cons of dating Gal (what pros?)

Gal and romance

Gal vs. TVTropes

Gal/Dorian couple-y silliness

Gal, Dorian and the bedroom (not quite as unsafe for work as it sounds)

Erren headcanons and info

Dorian headcanons (very general, but might tell you a bit about how I write him)

Dorian totally had a punk phase (Knight Shop/modern AU, I guess?)

Shield Raised and horses

Chev Trev The Horse

#masterpost #my fic #shield raised #dorian x inquisitor #gal trevelyan #dorian pavus #dragon age inquisition #dragon age

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