#Frosty Spy

[onlythespiesappearhere]

Old TF2 Freaks Spies OCs

Red the name is Eater Spy and the Blu one name is Frosty Spy...

I might redesign them.

[greasby]

its strange what desire will make foolish people do

[froyocorp]

tf2 voiced things have a constant rule thats 1) everyone can voice scout perfectly and 2) nobody can voice anyone else perfectly

[r3dcherri3s]

Annoying ?

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem! reader

warnings: angst, uhhh arguing and uh that’s it? I think idk

word count: 1.7K

The briefing room buzzed with the usual hum of pre-mission activity. Natasha Romanoff, poised and stoic, stood apart from the chaos, reviewing the details of their latest assignment. Her piercing green eyes scanned the screen, not missing a single detail.

Just then, you walked in, your heart skipping a beat as you spotted Natasha. Despite her cold demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

You couldn't help but admire Natasha from a distance. The Avenger was everything you weren’t—strong, confident, and breathtakingly beautiful. Every time you were in the same room, your heart would race, and you’d find herself gravitating towards Natasha like a moth to a flame.

But the widow was always cold and dismissive. No matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation or offer a kind gesture, Natasha’s responses were curt, her demeanor frosty. Yet, you just couldn't stay away. You kept hoping, kept trying, believing that maybe, just maybe, Natasha would warm up to you.

“Hey, Nat,” You said cheerfully, sidling up next to the spy. “Need any help?”

Natasha barely glanced at you. “I’ve got it covered, Y/N. Go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

Your smile faltered, but you refused to give up. “I can be useful right here,” you insisted, your tone light and hopeful.

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Just stay out of my way,” she said icily, turning her back to you.

Undeterred, you continued to hover, your presence a persistent, gentle reminder of your affection for the redhead. Natasha sighed inwardly, irritated by the distraction. She had a job to do, and your constant attempts at getting close to her were becoming more than a nuisance.

The tension in the room was palpable as Natasha’s icy demeanor clashed with your unwavering cheerfulness. Before things could escalate further Steve entered the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He glanced between you and Natasha, sensing the tension but choosing not to comment on it.

“Natasha, Y/N,” Steve called, gesturing for the two of you to follow him. “We’ve got a mission. Briefing starts in five.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha, her expression unreadable, before following Steve to the briefing room. Once there, the rest of the team was already assembled, eyes focused on the mission details displayed on the screen.

Steve began outlining the mission, his voice steady and authoritative. “We’ve got intel on a HYDRA base operating out of Eastern Europe. We need to infiltrate, gather information, and neutralize any threats. Natasha, you’ll be leading this one.”

Natasha nodded, her usual confidence evident. “Who’s my partner?” she asked, her tone neutral.

Steve’s gaze shifted to you. “Y/N will be your partner for this mission.”

You saw Natasha’s jaw tighten, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you serious, Steve?” she asked, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. “I can’t do my job if I’m babysitting.”

Ouch.

Your heart sank, but you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to show how much her words stung.

“Natasha, Y/N is a capable agent,” Steve said firmly. “And this mission requires both of your skills.”

Natasha looked like she was about to argue, but she bit her tongue, her eyes flickering to you and then back to Steve. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

Before Steve could respond, Natasha turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there awkwardly. The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances, and Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t take it personally, Y/N,” he said softly. “Natasha’s just… complicated. She’ll come around.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely convinced. “I’ll do my best, Steve.”

“I know you will,” he replied, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just be patient with her. She’s not used to letting people in.”

With a final nod, you left the briefing room, feeling a mix of determination and fear. You knew earning Natasha’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but you were committed to proving yourself.

As you made your way to the gear room, you found Natasha already there, checking her weapons with exact precision. She didn’t acknowledge your presence, her focus entirely on her task.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the ice. “Nat, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Just get ready for the mission.”

Swallowing your retort, you set about preparing your gear in silence, the tension between you almost tangible. Once you were ready, you glanced at Natasha, who was already waiting by the door, her expression cold.

“Let’s go,” she said curtly, not waiting for you to respond before heading out.

As you followed her to the jet, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to break through the walls she’d built around herself. But despite the challenges, you were determined to try. For both your sake and hers.

Once aboard the jet, you took your seat, the hum of the engines filling the silence between you. Natasha was focused on the mission briefing displayed on her tablet, her face a mask of concentration.

This would be the mission that would change everything.

Inside the dimly lit warehouse, your nerves got the best of you. You stayed close to Natasha, perhaps too close, clinging to her for reassurance. The air was thick with tension, the sound of distant footsteps echoing through the vast space. Your heart raced, your breath shallow as you tried to focus.

At one point, your distraction caused a near-fatal mistake. You stumbled over a loose cable, sending a clattering noise through the warehouse. Natasha’s eyes widened, her reflexes kicking in as she grabbed you and pulled you behind a stack of crates.

“Stay quiet,” Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of urgency and concern. She peeked around the corner, spotting a guard approaching the source of the noise.

Your hands trembled, your grip tightening on Natasha’s arm. You felt a wave of guilt and fear, knowing you had almost jeopardized everything.

Natasha’s gaze hardened for a moment, silently she swiftly moved into action. In a blur, she disarmed the approaching guard, her movements precise and lethal. With a final, quiet thud, the guard was incapacitated, and Natasha dragged him into the shadows.

“We can’t afford any more mistakes,” Natasha murmured, turning back to you. “Stay focused, and follow my lead.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to calm down. You know you messed up big time, it was only a matter of time before Natasha starts screaming. You couldn’t let your nerves get the best of you again—not when everything depended on both of you succeeding.

——————

When you both finally made it back to the safe house, Natasha snapped.

“For god's sake, Y/N, can you just stop being so damn clingy? You're a liability! Do you even realize how close we came to dying because of you?”

Y/N stood frozen, Natasha's words cutting deeper than any knife. You had never seen Natasha this angry, this harsh. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced them back, nodding silently.

“I’m sorry, Natasha. I’ll… I'll leave you alone.”

——————

For the first time, you actually meant it. You resolved to give Natasha the space she clearly wanted.

The days that followed were torturous. You avoided Natasha at every turn, no longer seeking her out, no longer lingering in her presence. Whenever you both crossed paths, your eyes would drop, and quickly make yourself scarce. The once vibrant and dynamic energy you brought to the base faded, leaving a void.

Natasha noticed the change immediately. At first, she relished the silence, the absence of your constant chatter. She had thought that without your questions and observations, she would finally find some peace. But soon, the quiet became unbearable. She found herself missing the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved, the way your laughter echoed through the halls. The base felt colder, emptier without your presence. The missions were devoid of their usual spark, and Natasha’s own resolve began to waver under the weight of your absence.

Natasha’s frustration grew each day, her thoughts consumed by your absence. Her attempts to focus on her work, to drown out the gnawing void, were futile. Every corner of the base held memories of you, memories she could no longer escape. After a week of this torture, she couldn't take it anymore. Storming through the corridors, she finally reached your room and burst inside without knocking, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Why the hell are you avoiding me?” Natasha demanded, her voice edged with a desperation she could no longer hide.

You looked up from your bed, startled and confused. “What? You told me to leave you alone, Natasha. I’m just… I’m doing what you wanted.”

Natasha’s eyes softened for a moment before the frustration returned. “I didn't mean forever! You’ve been acting like I don’t exist.”

Your anger flared, a rare sight. You stood up, facing Natasha head-on, your voice trembling with the force of emotions. “You said I was a liability, Natasha! You made it clear you don't want me around. So why are you here now, yelling at me for doing exactly what you wanted?”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Natasha’s face crumpled with guilt. “Y/N, I—”

“No, Natasha. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like crap and then get mad when I try to give you what you want. Just… just leave me alone.” Your voice cracked with the effort to hold back tears, your pain and frustration spilling over.

You turned away, shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion. Natasha felt a pang of regret so deep it nearly knocked the wind out of her. She had never meant to hurt you like this, never meant to push you away so completely. Her own fears and insecurities had driven a wedge between them, and she now stood on the precipice of losing one of the most important people in her life.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it.”

But you didn't respond, your silence more telling than any words could be. Natasha left the room, her heart heavy with remorse. She was determined to make it up to you, to show you that you weren’t just an annoyance, but someone who meant more to her than she had ever realized.

part 2 ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

[purple-writer8]

Heather - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“But I watch your eyes as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky… she’s got you mesmerized. While I die.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, oblivious az

1.2k words

Masterlist :)

Crushing on the shadowsinger was a bad idea, you knew that since the moment you joined the Inner Circle centuries ago. It was a family, and familiar dynamics could very well be affected by your stupid little crush, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating for him.

You were a master of lies, Azriel’s second in command as Spymaster— you were good at being a chameleon— at lying. So you’ve spent your entire life in the Inner Circle, lying to everyone, hiding your feelings for Azriel because surely you were not worthy enough for the shadowsinger. 

He was one of the strongest warriors in Prythian, the only current shadowsinger, an Ilyrian. You… you were just a sneaky thief turned spy. A lesser fae from the Winter Court, with eyes so white, you were terrifying to your enemies. Fingertips so cold, that with enough conviction, whatever you touched turned into frost. 

You weren’t enough for Azriel, or anyone really. The High Lord had found you three hundred centuries ago, you had somehow snuck into Hewn City, and then you had stolen heaps of artifacts and sold them in the Winter Court for profit. You were stealthy and quick, something he had appreciated when Cassian and Azriel finally brought you to him.

Rhysand gave you two choices: to be handed over to Kallias as a criminal, or stay in his court and serve him— because he was sure you would excel as a spy. In exchange, you got a family, gold, clothes, and a warm bed. It was a no-brainer for you.

Azriel and you were a dream team and with time, your feelings for the shadowsinger went from admiration to adoration. Who wouldn’t adore him? He was perfection, he was everything, and he was the love of your life— you weren’t his, though. 

You had never expressed your feelings because, frankly, you were not sure that you could handle rejection. So you pined and loved him in silence, hoping that one day a miracle dawned on him, and he would somehow fall for you— a frosty lesser fae. You knew you two were not mates, but cauldron, you could wish and yearn. 

It was more than wishful dreaming, though sometimes you thought that just maybe— maybe he reciprocated your feelings. He was so kind to you, so doting, so careful.

Though, that all stopped when Elain Archeron dropped into all of your lives. You liked Feyre, and loved Nesta— but Elain, you hated her. The middle Archeron was perfection, everything you were not. She was soft, kind, beautiful, High Fae, and… Azriel liked her.

You knew it was bad that you hated her for being of his interest, but you had never once claimed to be a good person. Two years into her arrival and you could not stand the likes of her. 

You were sitting in the River House, playing board games with the Inner Circle, Nesta, and Lucien. Much to your delight, Elain hadn’t joined. It was the beginning of winter in the Night Court, and though you were made of ice— you weren’t immune to the cold. You shivered as you laid down one of your cards, and it caused Cassian to laugh at you.

“You turned my room into ice last winter solstice, and now you shiver?” He teased you, making you roll your white eyes at him. “Should’ve brought a coat,” Feyre taunted you, and you nodded. “Guys, I really thought it wasn’t as cold,” you chuckled, rubbing your cold as ice hands together to get some warmth, which was to no avail because there was no warmth inside you. Frost appeared in your hands at this action, causing you to groan. 

 Your heart stopped, though, when you felt a warm sweater wrapping around your shoulders. Your eyes flickered to Azriel, who gave you a small smile, “thank you,” you said softly.

 “It looks better on you than it does me,” the shadowsinger shrugged, his shadows coiling around your frozen hands, trying to warm you up. You smiled, about to answer, but his eyes snapped away from you, as did his shadows. Your eyes followed his gaze, meeting with Elain as she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. Your heart dropped, she was a sight for sore eyes, a sight for Azriel’s eyes. 

 She had him mesmerized, and you felt like you wanted to die. Inching away from Azriel, you continued your game, dropping his sweater unto the couch behind you. You were an ice fae, you could manage. 

When dinner came around, you were quiet all through the affair. You seethed in silence as you watched him drape the very same sweater he had given you, over Elain’s shoulders. The cold pulsed through your veins, and soon your utensils were turning into ice as you watched the scene unfold.

Elain told some story about her up-and-coming garden, and you got the urge to go and freeze her flowers to death. Obviously you did not. She was an angel, a good person. 

You kind of wished she were dead. You reprimanded your mind for being so evil. How could anyone ever love you? You were terrible… and not even half as pretty as Elain. Your thoughts were dark, and your heart made of stone-cold ice. Love was not something you would ever get. 

After dinner, you seethed outside. The snow that fell over you felt like fire on your skin, and you could feel your fingertips freezing as they created small snowflakes. “Come inside, it’s so cold outside,” that husky voice you worshiped spoke from the from door, causing you to turn to him.

His shadows rushed to you, swirling around your body to shield you from the snow. You turned away from Azriel, not wanting him to see you in your essence. Your veins shone black underneath your pale skin, your eyes glowing white, while ice slipped from your fingers and wrapped itself around you. 

You heard his footsteps crunching in the snow, then large wings wrapped around you in a protective manner as he towered over you. “Don’t look at me,” you mumbled, your eyes casting downward, not wanting him to see your eyes.

“Why?” He asked softly, scarred thumb wiping away frost that had gathered on your cheek. Then it clasped around your chin, tilting it upward so you looked up at him. 

His hazel eyes skimmed over your face slowly, “what’s wrong?” He asked softly, making you tilt your face away from his grasp. “Don’t.” You stated. You wished he knew, wish that you had been obvious enough, because you were so tired of pining for someone who did not love you back. 

“What?” He asked, a puzzled look happening upon his chiseled and devastatingly beautiful face. “You gave her your sweater,” you did not care how preposterous you were being, you couldn’t hold back. You had enough of this. 

"What? It’s just a sweater, does it matter?” Azriel asked, his shadows coiling around his ear to whisper in his ear. Jealous girl, jealous fae. 

 “You like her better.” The jealousy was pouring out of you, manifesting in ice that crawled all over your body. 

 “I can’t keep wishing I was Elain.” 

-

Part Two

Author’s Note:

IK the elain/azriel x pining reader is done a lot butttttt i love this song and i wanted to write my take on the triangle with heather as inspiration!

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe

[thexfridax]

D.E.B.S. at 20: a Queer Cult Classic

Bessie Yuill Photo: Sundance/WireImage

There is a secret film hidden within the shadowy sapphic corners of Letterboxd. Some call it escapist trash, some call it an underrated cult classic, fools call it a male fantasy. It calls itself D.E.B.S. As other early-2000s chick flicks like Charlie’s Angels and St. Trinian’s have been reevaluated and embraced for their candy-floss aesthetics and campy wit over the years, the lesbian community was quietly reclaiming its own equivalent with 2004’s D.E.B.S.

The precursor to contemporary high-concept lesbian films like Bottoms, the spy flick is filled with something that queer female moviegoers still often yearn for: fun. That includes Jordana Brewster and her era-defying eyebrows as the impeccably named supervillain Lucy Diamond, John Woo–style fight scenes that parody the action genre in the same way as Charlie’s Angels, and a cheerfully cheap aesthetic where spies run around in plaid schoolgirl skirts.

D.E.B.S. was written, directed, and edited by filmmaker Angela Robinson. While “unapologetically queer” might be an overused phrase, it does apply neatly to Robinson. The Chicago-born director’s first project was a short film called Chickula: Teenage Vampire, calling on the long history of vampiric queer women that began with 1872’s Carmilla.

Her love of playing with genre led her to later put a lesbian spin on the movie musical by writing the underappreciated Girltrash: All Night Long and exploring polyamory in a period biopic about the creators of Wonder Woman, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women. On the small screen, she also burnished her lesbian credentials by working on several episodes of The L Word.

When D.E.B.S. started life as a short film, Robinson described it as “a story about a trio of superspies who are all chicks. I love all the comic-book characters: Charlie’s Angels, Batman, Josie & the Pussycats … But I always wanted them to be gay and they never were, so I wrote my own.” Success at Sundance led to Sony snatching the short up and deciding that D.E.B.S. should be a full-length feature.

Two decades later, the joy of this movie lies in the details. The tone is immediately set by a gravelly voice-over telling us that there is a secret test hidden within the SAT to recruit young female superspies (and establishing that, like Bottoms, this is a film aware of genre archetypes and willing to push believability). Our main character Amy (Sara Foster) is an academic overachiever — like many lesbians overcompensating for their perceived failure to live up to social norms. Her perfect score on the secret SAT test makes it even more scandalous when she falls for the aforementioned supervillain Lucy Diamond.

Queer friend groups may delight over the nostalgic frosty eye shadow and lip gloss worn by the D.E.B.S. (which stands for “discipline, energy, beauty, strength,” naturally) at all times. Flip phones, CGI holographic screens, and Goldfrapp’s appearance on the soundtrack will also remind you that you’re watching a film made in the early 2000s. And many will squeal when they spot Holland Taylor, over a decade before she came out, as the academy’s head.

Admittedly, the special effects are goofy enough to cross over into comedy, especially when our girls are abseiling into a restaurant or climbing walls with plungers, and the lighting could be charitably described as resembling teen soap operas of that era. But the chemistry between Amy and Lucy is crackling enough that YouTube compilations of their scenes have racked up hundreds of thousands of views online. Their fun enemies-to-lovers plotline begins with the pair pointing guns at each other and quickly progresses to a whirlwind romance (the other D.E.B.S. think Amy’s been kidnapped and launch a national manhunt, just as many friend groups have had to organize rescue missions for lesbians on weeklong first dates).

You could argue that espionage serves as a metaphor for the closet and that Amy is such an effective spy because she’s used to lying to herself about her sexuality. But that almost seems like too much weight to put on this meringue confection of a genre spoof: Its campiness liberates the characters to inhabit a fun, exaggerated universe with no serious homophobia or consequences. Guns are used, but the so-called superspies have such consistently terrible aim that there are no real casualties. And Lucy Diamond’s supposedly nefarious crimes are all reversible — the murders pinned on her are revealed to be misunderstandings, and she returns all of her stolen goods in order to win Amy back.

When this live-action Totally Spies with a lesbian twist debuted, it only made $97,000 and was dismissed by critics. But there were enough moviegoing gays impressed by its snappy dialogue, fun romance, and stunning supporting cast (including Meagan Good, Jimmi Simpson, and Devon Aoki with a French accent) for its reputation to grow online over time. In forums and YouTube comment sections, young girls were asking, “Are there any lesbian films where they just fall in love and have fun and don’t die at the end?” Their answer was D.E.B.S.

[prickly-paprikash]

There are two ways I see that SpyxFamily can go with the Authens.

Ever since we've been introduced to the world of SxF, last names have always been an indicator of who exactly it is we're dealing with.

The Forgers are literally a Forged Family. No-brainer.

Yor and Yuri Briar: both beautiful people but with sharp thorns to protect themselves and one another. Their coloring and their characters are related to Roses and Yor is literally Thorn Princess.

Fiona Frost: Ice Cold. Frosty Exterior. Snow Queen. Warm and melty and obsessed on the inside.

Franky Franklin: Frank, honest and blunt. He's always up-front with Twilight since the beginning. Franklin also comes from the word francos meaning 'free'. He's a free agent, allied with Twilight but not with WISE, since he is an Ostanian. He's also the first true free-thinker, holding no allegiance to any state but cares genuinely for the people around him.

The Desmonds: meaning South Munster, one of the provinces of Munster. While it doesn't necessarily have a defined meaning, it is said that the lucky number of this name is 11, and Damian is ranked 11th amongst 228 students for the exams. Neat.

So Authens, right? Sigmund and Barbara Authen. If Loid, Yor, Anya and Bond are a forged family, then Siggy and Barbs are an authentic one from the getgo. Ever since the introduction of these two, everyone has both been over-the-moon and skeptical. It's nice to add new members to the family in this show. It's nice to see a foil (and an insight into the future for them) to Yor and Loid, where the elderly couple are genuine in their love, while Twilight and Thorn Princess still struggle with what exactly their fake relationship entails. Sigmund and Barbara trust one another completely, while the Spy and the Assassin still have ways to go on that front.

Now, Anya is being tutored by Sigmund, a former University Professor, Lecturer and Neurologist. Similar to Loid in a way, who moonlights as a Psychiatrist. The Authens aren't just being shown as a "what could be" for Loid and Yor as a couple, but as parents and mentors as well as seen in this chapter.

Both Loid and Sigmund get into Spy Wars for the sake of educating their students. The difference however lies in the way they go about it.

Loid reads and watches the entirety of Spy Wars to show that he is a good father with a pulse on what his daughter likes, as well as an avenue for him to teach Anya since she responds well to the show. But Loid only memorizes the show and tries to brute force (relatively speaking) Anya's education with it.

Like... making a fake episode of the show just to try and make Anya interested in her studies.

Sigmund on the other hand really sparks a love and understanding for the material itself.

Loid tries to force Anya to see the value in education through cold logic and goal-oriented thinking. Anya should study to Prevent War from erupting between Ostania and Westalis. Sigmund guides Anya into seeing the worth of education by itself. The joys in learning for learning's sake. Loid tries a surface level approach, where Bondman's adventures are hamfisted edu-tainment. He thinks that since Anya likes Bondman, she'll be tricked into learning by using Spy Wars as a coat of paint to mask a really boring lecture.

Sigmud correctly identifies what Anya loves about the story itself, and then uses those elements to relate to classical language.

Loid and Yor are committed to their duties, but it doesn't necessarily bring them joy. To keep children safe and happy, Twilight will lie and Thorn Princess will kill, but their personal satisfaction isn't something they bother about. Sigmund, on the other hand loved his job. He loves teaching. He loves the altruistic element to it—cultivating minds, helping them along to their full potential, but he also has a personal joy in teaching.

Another thing is that Loid loves his family, but doesn't know he does and can't spit it out. He can come off stoic and cold. Sigmund readily shows his appreciation for his wife and for his new student Anya.

What troubles me now is what happens next.

Authen does mean authentic. I have no doubt that Sigmund authentically loves his wife. His love for his research is also authentic. His passion for teaching is authentic. His admiration for Anya is authentic.

But what's the context of this authenticity?

See, the first route is that Sigmund really is just a good guy. A simple, kind, brilliant man who probably had a hand in building Project Apple from the ground up with the goal of improving people's minds, starting with dogs. Maybe it was co-opted by corrupt officials, twisting it into a monstrous organization willing to harm children and animals to realize their goals for a powerful human weapon. A weapon that became Anya Forger. Sigmund and Barbara leave, aid in the war effort for civilians and victims, and make a life for themselves in Berlint. I do believe this might be the likelier option.

But what if the contrast between the Forgers and the Authens is taken to the extreme?

The second route takes advantage of the inherent and subtle darkness in SpyxFam. This manga is just a bundle of gooey joy, but that happiness successfully hides the brutal truth of the world. Every character in this show is touched by war.

Anya and Bond are intended as living weapons. We tend to forget about this since Anya is a goblin child and Bond is floofy goofball.

Twilight and Yor are orphans of war, turned into the most powerful soldiers on each side. We forget this since both are idiots when it comes to anything each other and their family.

Handler is a level-headed badass who radiates older sister vibes for everyone who works under her, and she genuinely cares for her agents. She's also a depressed wreck who barely functions outside of work and constantly relives the loss of her husband and daughter.

The Blackbells? Posh rich folk, right? But their money comes from warmongering. Martha, the kindly mother-figure/butler/security for Becky? A veteran of war. The seamstress who is fond of Yor? Most likely an anti-authoritarian activist, since Loid clocked her immediately as being arrested for political activity. Maybe a former Red Circus member. Bazooka Bill? Funny kid who hit puberty way too early and has a hilarious deep voice. He's also being groomed to be a venerated soldier at the age of six by his father, who has most likely committed war crimes.

SpyxFamily is genuine in its joyful moments. But it barely hides the darkness that constantly lingers. War is a shadow that haunts these bright pages, and it always recontextualizes the zany adventures our family goes on.

What if the Authens are like that?

Everything about them is authentic. But they're also twisted. An authentic love for neuro science can lead to an obsessive march towards human weaponry. An authentic desire for world peace can mean that the end justifies the means, even if that means a telepath that could, theoretically dominate an entire nation. An authentic love for his wife could lead him to hiding everything from her.

What if Sigmund Authen is authentic in every aspect of himself, and is still a man with a dark agenda? That would perfectly contrast Loid, a man who has faked every single element of himself down to his own name and identity, but has never once strayed from his goal of ensuring a bright future for the strangers around him?

What I'm saying is that it'd be really cool if Twilight, a living lie made human who will commit to any deception for the sake of children's safety and happiness would be heavily contrasted by Sigmund Authen, a man who lives so authentically to his creed that he is willing to put children in harm's way for the sake of World Peace?

With the upcoming chapters clearly focusing on Anya and her past, wouldn't it be cool to celebrate Spy x Family hitting 100 chapters by revealing more and more of its dark, haunting, war-torn world after more than a hundred chapters of Spy Family antics?

Uh... Anyway, here's Comedy by Gen Hoshino.

[partycatty]

Hear me out bi han with a figure skating reader?..

YAS i actually have two other requests for the same thing! u guys r so cute i love ur lil ideas :))

bi-han > foolish

how it goes when you're an elegant skater and he's a stoic ninja!

warnings: u almost die, controversial bi-han character writing?

notes: this reads like a barbie movie it's a little corny, also i imagine his frost/ice shoots out like elsa LMFAO like all beautiful n shit when he's not trying to spear someone w an icicle

masterlist <3

•when i say bi-han is absolutely horrible at verbalizing his romantic thoughts, i promise with my entire being that i mean it.

•so it comes to nobody's surprise when all bi-han can do is watch you as you glide across the ice like a gorgeous fairy, eyes closed and completely encapsulated in the movement. he was supposed to be scouring the land for raiden and kung lao to confirm their whereabouts, but he stopped when he heard your pretty humming and scraping of ice. all he could do was stand atop a roof and observe you quietly, suddenly feeling a little warm, which was completely out of character for the cryomancer.

•your skates were handmade and your movements weren't professional. you learned through VHS tapes and magazines growing up, and you wanted nothing more than to leave fengjian and make it big in the olympics.

•each time he returns to fengjian to spy on the farmers and report back to liu kang, he's sure to stray from the path when nobody is looking, and checks on the frozen pond to see if you're skating. something about it entrances him. perhaps it's because he uses his ice for dominance and strength, while you submit your entire life to the deadly pond in such a beautiful display of grace.

•it takes him several visits to actually approach you, and it was entirely unintentional. you had actually fallen into a thin patch of ice, your leg trapped in a jagged part and effectively sucking your leg into the freezing water. he leapt from the rooftop and revealed himself to you. while he may not be the best at encouraging words, he's great at barking commands. so, in his all-ice-knowing voice, he tells you how to save yourself step by step, since you seemed entirely clueless about this incredibly important survival skill.

•your nerves got the better of you as you cry out and squirm, and the ice cracked even more. bi-han let out a growl of frustration with the situation before stomping across the ice to you. you wanted to shout out and tell him to stand back or he'd make it worse, but the words get caught in your throat when, with each step, his footsteps spawned large swirling waves of frosty ice, effectively repairing the cracks around you.

•bi-han doesn't outstretch an arm, he just stands menacingly - and silently - over you as you whimper in pain. saving yourself, you use his thick arm as leverage and hoist yourself out of the water, and he barely flinches at your soggy weight.

•"you... you did that," you say incredulously and out of breath, pointing at the intricate patterns along the ice top. bi-han's eyes follow your point and he exhales before turning back to you. "with the ice... how?"

•"you were foolish," he replies coldly, though you sense a morbidly caring tone in his voice. "stay near the shore. you'll lose that leg if you're not careful. no more skating then."

•your hand is on his chest as you regain your balance, and your eyes fall to the emblem on his uniform.

•"how did you know i was skating?" you ask, with a smirk teasing your lips. bi-han tenses up at your question, looking away momentarily. he would literally rather die than admit he was staring at you, and you sense that, so you move back to the emblem.

•"you are in a clan," you mutter, reaching to trace it. "what are ninjas doing in fengjian?"

•instinctively, he snatches up your wrist and holds it in the air, warning you silently not to touch it. but even so, bi-han's lips part for a moment, his eagerness to speak to you overtaking his stoicism. he covers his mouth and furrows his brows. something about your gentleness, your kindness, causes him to desire to match it. your sweet eyes looking into his, you tilt your head and he nearly collapses.

•he decides not to answer your question, and you assume whatever it is is a private matter. perhaps the whispers in madam bo's restaurant might offer an explanation later.

•"well... thank you," you thank him gently, with your arm still in his grip. it's evident that... he doesn't scare you. in fact, you're fascinated by this man. everyone knows everyone, so who could this big yummy scoop of ice cream be??

•"don't thank me yet," he replies, eyes looking down at the ice and back to the shore. "with me. come."

•you do an awkward combination of skating and walking beside bi-han as he leads you back to the snowy shore. his hand rests on your back, full palm taking up a great amount of space on your back. you shudder at the thought.

•"may i thank you now?" you ask with gentle playfulness, smiling up at the ninja before bowing out of respect. "you saved my life, sir. the least you can do is tell me your name."

•"bi-han," he finally replies, his lips in a firm line. "don't make me save you again. be smart. be vigilant."

•his lecture halts when he hears his brothers call for his name in the echoey distance. he shares one last glance with you before walking off into the village alleys, and you're utterly dumbfounded. did that actually happen, or was that a weird hypothermic hallucination? do those even happen?

•before the lin kuei end their exploration of your village, bi-han decides to leave one last lesson for you at your doorstep. how he even knew where you lived baffled you. but, the uneasiness went away when you opened the hastily put together box, and see a brand new pair of ice skates, the blades frosted with the same beautiful pattern you saw on the ice that day.

•never again did you get near the thin points of the icy pond. and, every winter after that, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you in the distance as you improve your flips and pivots using your gorgeous skates. and you're pretty sure the lin kuei's business in the village ended quite some time ago...

[isnotwhatyourethinking]

The Warrior & The Healer - Chapter 3

Cassian x Winter Court Healer Reader

Summary: Y/n's healing powers are unparalleled, a gift from the Mother that she wields with precision and care. Sent to Velaris under the guise of a diplomatic mission, Y/n is secretly bound by a darker duty—spying for the Winter Court's ruthless war general, Isarn, to protect her imprisoned mother. But as she works to heal the wounds inflicted by Hybern, a chance encounter with a certain Illyrian warrior changes everything.

Word Count: 5.8K

A/N: sorry this took so long, I had to organize an auction T.T though I loved loved loved diving more into the plot and introducing new characters! hope u like this one, angst and all xx

Warnings: girl can't catch a break, angst, mentions of family abuse, blood, violence, waterboarding, language if you squint, some fluff at the end, sorry if I missed anything!

All ACOTAR rights to the genius of Sarah J Maas✨

Upon arriving at the Winter Court, I was greeted by a too-familiar frigid air that clung to my bones, making me long for the warmth of Velaris, and by a structure before me that loomed like a minatory giant, challenging me with its sheer presence. 

The Hailstone Citadel stood majestically atop a rocky hill, its towering spires piercing the frosty air. Constructed around a grand meeting hall where the leaders of the Court gathered for official events, and made from spotless white marble with delicate veins of silver, its walls shimmered like freshly fallen snow under the pale winter sun. The battlements, adorned with intricate carvings of long-forgotten runes, were fashioned from pale blue quartzite, their surfaces glistening as if perpetually coated in a thin layer of frost. 

Inside, the grand halls were lined with smooth alabaster, casting an ethereal glow that mimicked the natural luminescence of ice. Blue calcite pillars rose to support the vaulted ceilings, their icy hue deepening the castle's wintry ambiance. Even the floors, polished to perfection, reflected the cold beauty of the surroundings, with inlaid designs of glacial stone that told tales of ancient winters. 

I stared at the mythical beasts that welcomed me, standing as majestic statues at the base of the blue pillars, symbols of the Winter Court’s strength and ferocity. Great white glacial bears, their fur eternally pristine like the marble walls, were carved to perfection. Snow griffins and frostfang wolves, their watchful gazes following my every move, guarded the halls with silent vigilance. They had always made me feel so small, as if they might jump and shred me to pieces at any second.

The entire structure exuded an icy aura, both in temperature and in its hauntingly beautiful design, perfectly encapsulating the essence of my court. I was caught off guard by the subtle shudder that thought caused.

As I made my way to the tactical wing, I felt a shiver run down my spine, and not just from the cold: a large group of soldiers greeted me with their imposing presence. Isarn might be playing the role of a vigilant warlord, but the overabundance of soldiers spoke volumes about his paranoia. Still, they were a formidable sight, their uniforms a mixture of elegance and intimidation. Each soldier wore a long, icy blue tunic of thick wool embroidered with delicate silver snowflakes. Over this they wore white, fur-lined cloaks, fastened at the shoulder with silver clasps in the shape of direwolves—the well-known beast form of our High Lord. 

Trying to shake off the thought of what Kallias would do to me if he discovered what I was doing, I shifted my attention back to the formation of the soldiers, the details of their armor gleaming in the pale light, silver breastplates intricately engraved with frost patterns and beasts, polished to a mirror-like finish that reflected the icy surroundings. 

I slightly nodded at the formation, heading to Isarn’s office. I raggedly filled my lungs and held my pendant before walking into my cursed fate. No fear. One deep breath. No hesitation. Another deep breath. I knocked once announcing myself, and opened the door.

❄❄❄❄❄❄

Isarn's office bore none of the elegance of the grand halls of the Citadel. The walls were adorned with detailed maps of Prythian, some marked by battle plans. Shelves lined one wall, filled with tomes on warfare, tactics, and the history of the Winter Court. Weapons of all kinds—swords, daggers, and axes—were meticulously displayed, the room was lit by a single obsidian chandelier, its dark crystals casting sharp light across the space. 

In the corner, a fireplace donned with a shiny grease black tile crackled with blue-tinged flames, the firelight casting eerie, flickering shadows across the room. The hearth was decorated with carvings of snarling beasts, and despite the warmth it provided, the fireplace only seemed to add to the cold, merciless atmosphere. A large desk dominated the center of the room, made of dark, polished ebony that looked almost black in the dim light. Behind it sat a high-backed chair, its design as austere and commanding as the man who occupied it. 

Despite his stature, the General's presence was overwhelming, his authority radiating with sheer force. He was a short, chubby male with skin so pale it almost appeared gray, the black ponds of ink he had for eyes missing nothing—a cold, calculating gaze that seemed to see through any facade. His gray hair, balding at the crown, was meticulously combed straight and sleek in a strict military fashion that only added to his stern demeanor. Dressed in the immaculate regalia of a warlord and topped with a prominently displayed black onyx blade, he projected an aura of intimidation and behest. I loathed this visit, though I was looking forward to hearing news of my mother.

"Sit down", he commanded in his screeching voice. 

"I’d rather stand", I spat back. An evil smile crossed his features. 

"Y/N… You’re in no position to negotiate, and I’m not in the mood for insubordination. Sit. the fuck. down". 

Prick.

My back tensed as I reluctantly sat in one of the chairs located in front of his desk, hands still in my pewter cloak’s pockets. 

"I hope, for yours and your mother’s sake, you’re not wasting my time."

I nervously looked at his chubby hands, adorned with rings shaped like bears, tapping rhythmically against his desk. Every other plump finger was wrapped in a band of platinum, a showy attempt to command respect, as if a reminder of his authority had to be displayed at all times, I thought. 

"The Night Court is heavily secured since Hybern’s attack," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "Thanks to the Ancient One’s powers and the Cursebreaker defending the city, Hybern did not stand a chance." 

Isarn’s expression remained inscrutable as he leaned back in his chair, calculating. "Go on," he pressed, his voice a dangerous murmur.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the pendant around my neck grounding me. "Amren’s powers are… unlike anything I’ve ever heard of. She can seamlessly control mind and body, the Cursebreaker herself was impressed by her skills."

"What about that winged bastard? Did the treacherous High Lord reveal anything useful about their plans against Hybern?" he said in a mocking tone, each word a poisonous blade cutting through the tension in the room. 

I hesitated, the memory of Rhysand mentioning a book to Feyre flashing through my mind. I knew, I knew this was wrong, and I hated the thought of putting the Night Court at risk. But the desperate need to gain leverage gnawed at me. No, I couldn’t reveal this information before negotiating my mother’s release. "Where is my mother?" I asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Isarn’s eyes narrowed, and he stood, moving around his desk with the grace of a predator. "Information first," he said, his voice unyielding.

A power struggle unfolded as he circled me, each step calculated. "Your dear mother is expecting you to fulfill your side of the bargain." He hesitated for a second, carefully measuring his next words to avoid giving anything away. "And the Night Court is not your concern," he added with a tone of casual malice, as if the subject was of little importance to him. 

Interesting.

In a blink, he was beside me, and before I could react, I felt the cold touch of his onyx blade at the nape of my neck. Isarn was faster than I had anticipated, his military training evident in his swift, lethal movement.

I summoned a burst of chilling force to my upper body, just in case, trying to remain grounded. 

"Tell me… what you know," Isarn demanded, slowly pressing the blade harder against my neck.

I felt a warm liquid trickle down my back—he had pierced my skin. The pain was sharp, but the realization of my vulnerability was even more cutting. My wound was healing quickly, though the gash hurt like hell. 

He kept pressing with intent and what felt like... pleasure? I fought back tears until they finally broke. 

"I heard Rhysand and Feyre talking about a book the Ancient One is working on. It could be a weapon, I don't... I don't know anything else." 

Isarn’s smile was victorious as he released the blade from my neck. "A book?" His eyes gleamed with greed. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?" he taunted, his voice mocking and triumphant. Then the bastard licked my blood from the tip of the blade, never breaking eye contact. Repulsive, dishonorable, evil shred of a male. 

I forced a gag down my throat and kept an impassive expression on my face to avoid giving him a reaction, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I was disgusted, enraged, frustrated and tired. How much longer did we have to put up with this prick? From the moment I was recalled from the Boreal Retreat to the Citadel a few weeks ago, Isarn had made it his personal mission to humiliate me every chance he got. The Commander, Gods only knew how, had managed to convince Kallias to assign me to aid the Night Court, so I hadn't even had time to delegate my duties, and I often wondered how my patients at the Retreat were doing. 

Fortunately, a knock on the door interrupted my torment.

"Sir?" A soldier peeked his head in with hesitation and fear. He had been summoned by the Commander but clearly did not want to disturb him. He knew better than that.

"Alfson. Take the lady here to the lower chambers. Make sure she sees how her mother is being well cared for." Isarn snarled with disdain. Then he pinned me down with his resolute obsidian eyes as he reclined on his desk, their fixed stare anchoring me in place. 

"We are done here. You're to remain in the Night Court until I say otherwise, and you better not try any funny business." He tapped the ebony with his fat fingers, emphasizing the last three words. "I've got eyes and ears everywhere."

"I've got eyes and ears everywhere," I scoffed in my head. Honestly, what was his interest in the Night Court? 

What is your endgame, Commander?

A surge of strength coursed through me, a defiant fire igniting in my chest. While my resilience had always been a silent force, manifesting through actions rather than words, this newfound courage startled me. 

Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth.

"You mean Hybern’s?"

His head suddenly snapped up, a shadow crossing his face. Without warning, his hand lashed out, striking me across the face with a force that sent me reeling. The sting of his platinum rings bit into my skin, and before I could even touch my cheek to ease the pain, his gaze shifted to the soldier. With a slight nod and a silent command in his eyes, he conveyed his next order.

A sudden, searing pain exploded at the side of my head, and my world turned black.

The barren, snow-covered ground crunched beneath our feet as we searched for anything to stave off our gnawing hunger. It had been two weeks since my father had left us to fend for ourselves, his absences a common trial we had learned to endure. The biting wind whipped through my thin clothes, but I barely felt it, my focus solely on survival. 

I ran ahead of her, a small figure stood out a few meters away in the sea of whites and grays around us.

“Mama, look!”

We had stumbled upon a rabbit, its fragile body barely clinging to life. I looked at my mother with young, inexperienced eyes, searching in hers for an answer to the rabbit's pain, though knowing this could be our dinner. 

She knelt beside the animal, examining it with gentle hands despite the harshness of our surroundings. Her eyes, a blend of resolve and sorrow, met mine with a weight that belied her calm exterior. She cupped her hand on my left cheek, a mother's heart breaking at the lesson she was about to teach her little girl. 

"You must choose," she said gently, her voice trembling yet firm as strings of mist came out of her mouth. "Help it get better, or let it go peacefully. The decision is yours, my love."

Her tone carried not just the necessity of our survival, but a plea for understanding. 

I hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on my small shoulders. The rabbit's labored breaths filled my ears, and I felt a pang of empathy for the creature. But the growling of my stomach and the desperate look in my mother's eyes forced my hand. With trembling fingers, I reached out, knowing that this choice meant survival.

I closed my eyes for a moment, gathering my strength, then made the call. 

I snapped the flimsy neck, ending the rabbit’s suffering to provide us with a meal. The act felt heavy, its significance settling deep within me.

My mother’s gaze hardened as she stroked my hair and looked into my eyes. 

"You did good. Sometimes we must do not what our hearts desire but what our needs demand, without fear nor hesitation” 

Her words replaced the feeling of guilt and grief, they had etched themselves into my soul, becoming a cornerstone of my resilience and determination.

I bolted upright on the cold stone floor, my mother's voice echoing in my mind. The nightmare, the memory, had faded, but the longing for her warming presence remained.

As my senses returned, I realized I wasn't in my bed but in a dark, dank dungeon. The chains binding me were a deep, otherworldly blue, shimmering faintly in the dim light. Each link felt like liquid metal solidified into an unbreakable structure, wrapped tightly around my wrists and ankles. The subtle chill from their touch seeped into my bones, sapping my strength with powerful magic. 

I groaned as I tried to reach for the back of my head where an intense headache originated, pounding behind my eyes, likely from the blow Alfson had delivered in Isarn’s office. My vision was still blurry, but as I blinked rapidly trying to clear my sight, the full extent of my situation became painfully clear: I wasn't healing.

I struggled against the chains, my movements slow and sluggish. Each effort to free myself only seemed to tighten their grip. Panic began to set in, my breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. Then, amidst the silence of the dungeon, a familiar whimpering voice reached me over the ringing in my ears.

Across the cell, through the dim light and shadows, I saw her. She was huddled in a corner, her once-vibrant form now frail and broken. 

No. No, no, no–

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the horror of her imprisonment. Isarn hadn't been keeping her in some quarters as I had hoped; all this time, she had been held captive in a dungeon cell. 

"My child," she murmured. 

It pained me to hear her voice barely audible carrying the weight of all the suffering she had endured.

"Mama," the call came from the bottom of my heart, out to my lips, hoarse and desperate. The sight of her, more than the chains, more than the cold, more than the headache, shattered my core. I fought against the bonds with renewed desperation, my mind racing to find a way to free us both. A thousand questions swirled in my mind, and I could see the same confusion and urgency reflected in my mother's eyes.

I breathed, trying to keep my voice steady, "I've been out assisting the Night Court."

Her eyes widened, a spark of shock briefly flickering through her weariness. I wanted to tell her everything, about the beautiful city of Starlight, the people I had met, the mission I had undertaken, about my mate, but there was no time. The sound of boots echoed faintly in the background, so I continued.

"Mama, I’ve been well, but I can't talk for long," I said, my words hurried. "They're coming."

She nodded, understanding the urgency. Despite her frail state, she reached out to me as if she could hold my hand from a distance. "Bjorn," she said, her voice dry and raspy, "he's been aiding me."

Bjorn. The mention of his name brought a flood of emotions. My uncle, my mentor, the one who had always been there for us. While my father abandoned us, Bjorn had stepped in, teaching me everything I needed to know to survive in this frozen hell. As the Captain of the border forces with the Autumn Court, he had been a figure of fortitude and tenacity, walking alongside me every step of the way, from treating soldiers in makeshift tents to becoming indispensable to the court. He was more of a father to me than my own ever was. 

"He sneaks in when he can... Isarn still doesn’t know," my mother continued in a whisper, forcing a gulp. "He doesn’t know you’re related. It’s our only advantage."

I nodded, tears welling in my eyes. The thought of seeing Bjorn again gave me a glimmer of hope. I had kept it together up to this point but gods knew I needed a lifeline. 

"Do what Isarn says for now, my love. Find Bjorn. He’s been looking for you, too."

My mother fought a cough, struggling to talk. As her eyes met mine, I silently pleaded with her to stop, to save her strength, but she pressed on, defying my unspoken request. 

"He mentioned tensions at the border are growing, and that he’s been looking for a way to undermine Isarn's influence, to exploit his vulnerabilities."

The sound of boots grew louder, the guards getting closer. Panic surged through me, but I held on to my mother’s words. "We’ll get through this," I promised. "I'll find Bjorn." As soon as Isarn grows bored of this hissy fit and sends me back to Velaris.

The Mother must’ve heard my prayers, as two soldiers finally approached the cell’s gate, each carrying a large bucket filled with what looked like water, and two thick linen cloths. This couldn’t be good.

"Rise and shine, ladies," one of them sneered.

Fuck, how long had it been?

The soldiers walked into the cell with a menacing air. "This is a mercy from the General, a little reminder." one of them said, his words dripping with that characteristic malice of Isarn’s personal guard.

Before I could react, they grabbed us and forced us to the cold stone floor. The first splash of icy water hit my face like a thousand needles, the shock making me gasp for air. The cloth was pressed over my face, and the torture began.

I struggled to breathe as they poured more water on me, each inhalation bringing it into my lungs. Panic and pain overwhelmed me as I heard my mother's muffled cries close by. I fought against the restraints, desperately trying to break free, but the chains held me fast.

Just when I thought I would drown, they stopped. I laid there, coughing and gasping for breath, my body trembling. The soldiers laughed, their eyes savoring their making.

"If you don’t comply with the General’s orders," one of them said, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "or if you dare to question him again, he will personally stab you both with faebane, bathe you in cold water, and leave you out to freeze to death."

The other soldier removed the dark indigo bonds and spat on my face.

“Scum.”

But I ignored it all as I crawled towards my mother, every movement a struggle. "Mama, please," I begged, "stay with me."

Darkness was closing in, my strength fading. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was my mother’s frail form, her eyes filled with love and desperation. 

I drifted in and out of awareness as rough hands grabbed me, dragging me out of the dungeons. My body felt heavy, my limbs barely responding. Through blurred vision, I saw the dimly lit corridors of the lower levels of the Hailstone Citadel pass by, the cold seeping into my bones.

"Keep moving," one of the soldiers muttered, his grip tightening on my arm.

They hauled me through a hidden exit at the back of the citadel, into the freezing night. The biting wind stung my face, jolting me closer to full consciousness. They dragged me into the bailey, the snow crunching under their boots, until they finally dropped me unceremoniously onto the ground.

I laid there, shivering, hardly breathing. I had to move. Summoning the last of my strength to heal the tightness in my muscles, I pushed myself up, staggering towards the stables I knew were nearby. Each step was a battle as I reached a horse conveniently saddled, its breath visible in the cold air. I had always prided myself on being self-reliant, I’d been taught to never depend on a male for strength or comfort. But now, as my body temperature kept dangerously dropping, I found myself wishing for Cassian’s warmth, his strong arms wrapping around me. I held onto that feeling for solace, while focusing on mounting the animal. 

I urged the horse south, towards the Autumn Court border where I knew Bjorn was positioned. The ride was a blur of icy wind and snow-covered trees. I fought hard to stay awake and to listen to the rhythm of the horse’s gallop—it was the only thing keeping me from slipping back into unconsciousness.

When I finally reached the border at dawn, the outpost where Bjorn was stationed came into view. It was a watchpoint where the soldiers of the Winter Court kept an eye on the shifting lines between territories. Tents erected around a tall brick structure dotted the landscape as far as I could see, blending into the snow-covered ground.

A soldier approached as I dismounted, recognizing me from past encounters at the recovery camps. "Y/N," he greeted, his voice filled with concern as he saw my condition. He helped me unmount, his hands steadying me as I stumbled. 

"I have urgent business with the Captain," I muttered as I could.

The soldier nodded, understanding the urgency. "This way."

He tied the horse to a post and guided me through the site as I made my way to Bjorn's tent. The sounds and faces of the outpost, once familiar and comforting, now felt distant and blurred as if they were fading away. At last, we arrived at Bjorn's tent. The soldier stepped inside first, clearing his throat before speaking, "Captain, someone’s here to see you." I followed, my legs barely holding me up.

Bjorn turned around, shock registering on his face when he saw me. "Y/N," his voice broke, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and worry. 

I couldn't contain my tears any longer. I ran to him, collapsing into his embrace. He wrapped me around tightly in a fatherly comfort I had longed for since I left for the Night Court.

As we stood there, memories of our time together surged through my mind. I recalled the countless hours we spent in the training grounds, his voice calm and steady as he instructed me on how to hold a blade, how to keep my balance even on treacherous ice. He drilled me in the military structure of the Winter Court, ensuring I understood the hierarchy and strategies that could one day save my life. 

His patience never wavered as he guided me in harnessing my healing powers, teaching me to channel my energy and focus it precisely where it was needed. Every lesson, every word of encouragement had shaped me into who I was today. He had been there for me in my darkest moments, offering his support and wisdom when I needed it most. Our familial tie was forged in those early days of hardship, and it had only grown stronger over the years.

"I thought I'd lost you," Bjorn whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I pulled back, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "My mother…" I pleaded, "she needs help."

Bjorn’s face set with resolve. "We’ll take care of her."

He turned and called for the soldier who had brought me to the tent. As the soldier approached, Bjorn drifted to his work table, quickly scribbling something on a piece of paper. He handed it to the soldier. "Take this to Eirik," he instructed. "He’ll know what to do."

The soldier nodded and swiftly left the tent, leaving me sighing with a sense of relief. Bjorn finally faced me, studying me with worry. 

"I look like hell, don't I?" I managed a weak smile.

Bjorn chuckled, a soft, affectionate sound. "You always did have a flair for understatement," he teased, his teal blue eyes scanning me for injuries. He quickly urged me to sit, gently helping me as I sank onto a nearby stool. As he helped me remove my wet cloak, no longer pewter but a light charcoal due to all the dirt, and my boots, he gazed at my wrists where they were still hurt. My powers were almost depleted.

When he took off my boots, he noticed the bargain tattoo. His lips pursed. "Your mother told me about..." He pointed at the tattoo with his chin. "When you left... I couldn't, I haven't forgiven myself. I should've been there for you. I'm sorry." 

I reached out for his arms, like I always did many, many times when I was younger and none of this mattered. 

"You had no way of knowing, and I won't let you carry the guilt of Isarn's doing," I whispered in our embrace.

I took a deep breath and slowly let go, still holding his hands. "I was in the Night Court, sent to work as a healer, but I was spying for Isarn. He..." I looked down at my wrists, cuts from the chains still open, "did not hold back when I returned. The moment I mentioned the King of Hybern, he snapped. I don't get it, why is he so interested in the Night Court?"

Bjorn's face hardened. "Because he’s an ambitious prick. I have spies within Isarn’s close circle. He's working with Hybern. He’s promised him the Winter Court in exchange for his help." 

He saw the blood leaving my face as my heart sank, waves of blame and dread suffocated me. 

Dear Mother. What have I done?

"Is that even possible?"

"The fool is a loyalist. He’d gladly sell his own pathetic life to bring back the days of human enslavement."

Weariness was creeping in. I hadn’t slept all night, though the gravity of the conversation was enough to keep my mind alert. 

"It gets worse," Bjorn continued. "Isarn plans to help Hybern destabilize the Night Court by kidnapping the Cursebreaker. Apparently Hybern wants to use her powers against all humans down the Wall, though we still don’t know how."

"Feyre... But why would Isarn do this?" 

Despite his cruelty, Isarn was a military commander through and through, his loyalty to the Winter Court woven into the very fabric of his being. Betrayal felt out of character.

Bjorn's eyes locked into mine, his demeanor to the brink of desperation. "Isarn has long harbored resentment towards Lady Viviane for commanding the Winter Court armies during Under the Mountain. He felt..." 

The soldier that brought me to the tent interrupted, bringing two steaming bowls of stew, the savory aroma filling the tent. 

"This might not be a feast, but it'll keep you going," he remarked while he offered me a shy smile, approaching me with a bowl.

Ever the overprotective parent, Bjorn grabbed both from his hands, dismissing the soldier with a nod, and continued. 

"He felt small and undermined—no surprises there." He winked at me conspiratorially. I would have laughed at the joke if the guilt within me wasn't drowning me.

"Especially after discovering Lady Viviane's leadership role. His supposed captivity by Hybern was a ruse; he was collaborating with them all along."

I felt a sickening twist in my gut. I lowered my head into my hands, resting them on my legs, overwhelmed by exhaustion and frustration, and unable to process any more information. Telling Isarn about the book had been a mistake. A grave mistake. But I couldn't burden Bjorn with the weight of my call, I'd rather keep him focused on my mother's well-being. Then there's the safety of my mate… I had to fix this. I knew what I had to do. 

"I have to go back to the Night Court." I uttered with a stammer. 

Bjorn's eyes blanked with a resolve that startled me, he’d seen right through me and instantly knew my intentions. He stood up and started pacing around the tent. 

"If you plan to share any information about Isarn and his plans with the Night Court, you need to be prepared, Y/N.”

He was right. If I approached Rhysand and Feyre, laying out everything I knew about Isarn while also proposing a solution, they could not only be warned but might also offer resources and intelligence to our advantage, in a joint effort. A pang of gratitude hit my core when I realized that, in the rush of the moment, Isarn wasn’t too specific with the terms of the bargain. 

A fool, indeed. This might just work. 

I felt a hint of pride in my chest.

"Not bad for an old captain," I winked at him, and replied with a smirk when I shared my conclusion. 

"I'll need to devise a plan that ensures Isarn can't retaliate. If I can present them with a strategy to counter his, they may be able to support us."

Bjorn agreed, his expression serious. 

"Exactly. They have as much at stake as we do."

He slowly leaned towards me, placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes, his gaze full of emotion. I knew this moment would come once more, the moment we part without knowing when we’ll see each other again, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. It seemed like all we had now were these fleeting moments, and there was still so much I wanted to share with him.

"You can do this, Y/N. But remember, you must keep up the facade with Isarn until the very end. Any slip, and he will come down on you hard. On both of you.”

"I understand," I said firmly, taking his calloused hands in mine. 

Then he searched my eyes for the tenacity he'd taught me to maintain in these situations, and found another emotion seeping in instead.

A longing for the male I'd been relentlessly pushing away, leaving him behind at the Night Court.

"Alright, spill it, child. What’s going on?" Bjorn pressed, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated, my thoughts a whirlwind. I wanted to tell him about Cassian, but how could I explain this to Bjorn when Cassian himself didn't know about the mating bond? Not that I was planning to tell him either. 

The risk of exposing such a deeply personal truth made me feel incredibly vulnerable. Still, I wanted him to know. I needed his guidance and support, now more than ever.

"I..." I started, struggling to find the right words. "There’s someone at the Night Court. Someone... important to me."

Bjorn's thick eyebrows burrowed, but he waited patiently for me to continue.

"I think... I think I've found my mate. He's very well known and a person of trust in the Night Court. He doesn't know though, about the bond."

Bjorn's lips drew a line. 

Oh, Gods. 

I hadn't been this nervous since the first time I met Kallias. I forced a swallow down my throat and continued, the words coming out of my mouth in a hurried tirade like a child who had been caught being naughty.

"I cannot, will not risk this mission for a male I barely know, though," I continued, determination hardening my voice despite the pounding in my heart. "There's too much at stake, and I need to focus on what matters now."

Bjorn’s lips twitched, and for a moment, I saw the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. 

"So, you’re just telling me now that you found your mate?" he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "And here I thought you were keeping all your secrets from me."

Despite the tension, a small smile crept across my face as I lowered my chin and looked at my bare foot. "It's not like that."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I know, child. I’m just teasing. But seriously, a mate? And an important one in the Night Court, no less,” his hands reaching his hips. “You sure know how to pick them."

I mentally sighed as all the light-hearted taunting eased some of the anxiety gnawing at my insides. 

"I didn’t exactly choose this, you know." 

Bjorn’s expression turned more serious, though the warmth didn’t leave his eyes. "I admire your determination, Y/N. And I’m happy for you, really. But you need to be cautious. Especially if he’s a significant figure in the Night Court."

He elbowed me with complicit eyes, "Can I know who this significant other, I mean, figure is?"

I rolled my eyes, tempted to fall into more of his tease but instead I hesitated, thinking about the answer. 

"You’ll know, Bjorn. In time. If everything goes well after Isarn is dealt with. For now, we move forward with the plan."

Bjorn nodded, understanding the boundary. "Fair enough. Just promise me you’ll be careful. And be smart. Remember your training."

"I promise," I said, knowing that I would cling to those words when the moment demanded it. I stood there for a moment, trying to hold on to this precious instant with him. His concern for me was evident, and it mirrored the worry I felt for him. 

"Good," he replied with a reassuring smile. Bjorn’s blue eyes softened as he pulled me into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of mist and pine enveloped me, grounding me in the moment. 

“Please be strong, petal,” he murmured, his tone carried a hue of anguish. I nodded against his shoulder, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall upon hearing the affectionate nickname he’d given me since I was a child. “I will.”

We pulled back slightly, our hands still clasped together. His rough palms were a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I looked into his eyes again and recognized the unspoken devoted love that had always been there. 

"This isn't goodbye," I said softly, squeezing his hands. "Please keep her safe. Who knows, the next time we meet I may bring some allies, Mother willing."

"I'll hold you to that. Now go," he held my chin up gently, with a caress. "Go back to the Night Court and show them what you're made of," his eyes shone with affection. 

With a final nod, I gathered my now somewhat-dry cloak, and some clean clothes and supplies for the journey he'd packed for me. 

Before I walked out of the tent, he called after me.

"He better be good with a sword."

I hid a grin, knowing the answer. "Something like that."

taglist:

@bravo-delta-eccho @yamisuke @randomperson1234sblog @anxious-cactus @lilah-asteria  @darkbloodsly @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden

dividers by @estrelinha-s

[thespaceyace]

[SXF AU] This frosty duo is here to blow you into chapter 6 ‼️

While they don’t actually interact in this chapter, these two are certainly more than meet the eye and carry their own fair share of magical secrets and powers that are not for the faint of heart ❄️

[fillingthescrapbook]

Let's Talk About: Fantasy High Junior Year and Stress Tested

Brennan Lee Mulligan is an evil son of a genius.

I have been waiting for this episode forever--like, a whole week--and it did not disappoint. Starting with a return to assembly. Confirming the conspiracy that the Rat Grinders were setting them up.

Side note: I really do think the Rat Grinders are working for something or someone who is (or who are) also meddling with Interim Emergency Back-Up Principal Grix.

The mandatory drug testing at school that IMMEDIATELY netted the kid who called out Aguefort Academy becoming a police state in freshman year was a deliberate choice that I feel like Brennan, knowing how easily distracted his Intrepid Heroes can be, planted for the viewers to pick up on. And unleashing this after a "speech" from Agent Clark that ended with an extra distracting "until doppelgangers burn your nest!"? Yeah, I smell Brennanigans.

Quick break: I just want to say that Murph plays Riz's paranoia so well. Ally's quick moves to shenanigans is on another level. And Zac immediately taking a stress token for Gorgug feels extremely correct. That said, I feel like there should be a mechanic where Gorgug gets stressed so much that he channels the tokens into a rage that impresses Porter.

Also: the rolling graphics on the left side of the screen, for the tracks that our intrepid heroes are rolling for, look so cool. The stress levels on the right look great too, but they are stressing me out.

Now; I am really liking Yolanda Badgood, the cleric professor. I am not liking, however, the fact that Brennan is making her so likeable. And so friendly. And so helpful. Because I am now fearing for her life.

Emily's bits about Fig not knowing where to go rings differently for me, having seen the pre-season interview where she admitted that she wanted to play a new character. That she wanted to keep the happy ending Fig already got in Sophomore Year. I have to confess: I also actually really like this new aimless track for Fig, and it's showing in Emily's gameplay how she is also realizing new things about her character as Brennan showers her with more choices to make.

The one bad thing about the downtime episode, in my opinion, is that the time we spend with each character feels so little. Especially with how much time is passing in game time. I wanted to see more of Adaine's relationship with her sister, and maybe see a friendship blossom with Oishyn. But Siobhan is, rightfully, concerned about Adaine's finances so she has to prioritize her job and her academics. I needed Gorgug and Riz to get more updates about Frosty Fair before it happened--but, obviously, the had personal stuff they needed to deal with first��and Frosty Fair is already happening next episode--

Honestly: Brennan did a wonderful job with the down times for everyone. And every member of the Intrepid Heroes utilized their down time well.

I just wanted more because I'm very greedy and I love these characters to bits.

Speaking of bits:

With two Nat20s in a row, I would say that Gorgug really is the greatest wizard of our time.

"Get your best pair of Badidas and we'll see what that body does" is an s-tier Brennan-liner.

Riz using the celestial spy stuff he got from his dad is AMAZING.

And Brennan is enjoying handing out the stress tokens too much. Zacky even points it out.

Can't wait for next week!

[mermaidsirennikita]

Do you have any queer historical romance recs? Are there any upcoming 2024 queer historical romances that you’re excited for?

Absolutely, I have recs! As for 2024 books, I'm currently most looking forward to You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian, which is an m/m romance set, I believe in the 50s, set around the world of baseball.

I also just read A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland (out 4/9) which I SUPER recommend if you want a f/f romance set in the 1800s, with a touch of fantasy. It's about a prickly midwife who finds this mysterious woman in the middle of the night, literally about to give birth. She helps her, and her husband turns out to be a local fisherman. But... something isn't right... both with the husband, and with his wife's origins. And when the husband realizes the women are falling in love, he only becomes more possessive. I promise it's romantic and has an HEA and doesn't feature overwhelming sadness (there is domestic and sexual violence alluded to, but it's brief and off the page).

As for historicals otherwise...

M/M

We Could be So Good by Cat Sebastian--set in the same general era and space as the 2024 release, I think, about a pair of reporters slowly and sweetly falling in love, especially after they become roommates (and they were ROOMMATES).

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by KJ Charles--about a guy who moves to the marshland after he becomes a baronet, and has to take care of his estranged father's family left behind. He finds out there is a crime family of smugglers controlling the area, and he rats on them after seeing something sus... But when he goes to testify, who's there to stop him but the guy who he used to anonymously hook up with! JOSS DOOMSDAY. Joss Doomsday is amazing I love him. Super sexy, funny, and definitely focused on a side of England you like, never see in historicals.

The Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel by KJ--the standalone followup to the last book. In this case, another title is inherited, and this time the lord's this gruff former soldier. His cousins or something contest his inheritance, and he hires this young, charismatic secretary (especially important because our lord has a hard time reading, which I felt was done in a really touching way). Anyway, the sexual tension boils over and they start hooking up on the low, but there's a SECRET. (Also, the lord is very like "I'M ABUSING MY BOSSLY POWER" while the secretary is like "I mean... abuse it some more.....")

Band Sinister by KJ Charles--kind of a queer sendup of gothics, this is about a young guy whose sister is like, always spying on their scandalous neighbors who hold orgies and shit for the sake of writing her novels. Then she breaks her leg and ends up laid up in the orgy house, and he rushes over like NO ORGIES FOR HER, but he realizes the group of friends is actually super cool, especially the verrrry siiiiiilky smoooooth one who's just soooooo suave. So good, and especially interesting in that, while I would definitely not call this a poly romance, it does explore the complexities of open relationships and polyamory.

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian--Kit is a retired highwayman running a cafe, and suddenly this vERRRY pretty nobleman comes in flashing his very nice ankles and asking Kit to steal this mysterious book from his dad. Kit refuses, but agrees to teach Percy how to steal. Both are great, but omg PERCY is AMAZING. He's kind introduced as somewhat like... conventionally more on the femme side, but he's like a secret swordmaster, and also takes the lead with Kit sexually a lot. One of my favorite moments in this book is when he's blowing Kit and Kit thinks he's gone too deep and is like "SORRY" and Percy rolls his eyes and makes Kit grab his hair and start facefucking him lmao. Also has nice demi rep in Kit.

Something Fabulous by Alexis Hall--A frosty duke proposes to a woman he was always supposed to marry, and she subsequently goes on the run. He then has to pair up with her dramatic, fanciful twin brother. It's a really funny romcom, with a ridiculous duel that had me wheezing. Plus a semi-cultlike group of lesbians? Also, enthusiastic ass eating.

F/F

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera--A cold vamp widow wants this business deal with a fun and flirty heiress, and the heiress agrees to make the deal... If the vamp agrees to show her LESBIAN PARIS. Hot, and both of the leads are Latina.

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall--Adding this even though it definitely has a good dose of fantasy, because it's like... Jane Austen meets a Midsummer Night's Dream, with an emphasis on the fairies. This young deb ends up hexed so her dress is unraveling at a ball, and as she hurries into the pushes, she meets the mysterious Lady Duke, who's rumored to have murdered her brother and father. They begin this push and pull of seduction. It's both funny and kind of dramatic.

Trans/Nonbinary

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall--the standalone followup to Something Fabulous. The runaway fiancee's ex, the genderfluid Peggy, is roped by said ex into attending an opera. The ex wants to seduce Orfeo, this gorgeous castrato soprano, and when they open their mouth to sing Peggy, who's very gruff and in control typically, faints. Orfeo is naturally like "WHO'S THAT" and begins pursuing Peggy rather than the ex. One of my favorite books, so funny (at one point they accidentally incite a gay orgy) with a hint of melancholy and great sex. Also, it has one of the most unique sex scenes I've ever read.

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian--a bisexual marquess makes a new friend in this young dandy in town. They kiss, and he thinks his friend is going to blackmail him... But the friend, Robin, turns out to be chamber maid in disguise! Except they're actually not a man or a woman, and don't want to live as a woman. It becomes as an FWB thing, but naturally our romantic hero falls in love and things become Fraught. Has one of my favorite "resentfully horny" moments, when Alistair is watching Robin from across the ballroom, and they pull a glove off with their teeth, and he's like "THAT IS IMPROPER" and wants to fuck them so bad.

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall--Viola faked her death at Waterloo in order to live as her true self. Years later, she's pulled into helping her old best friend, the Duke of Gracewood, who's suffering from a chronic injury and severe depression following the battle. At first he doesn't recognize her... at first. Has an absolutely INCREDIBLE moment of recognition, and I really like that it's this romping old school type romance with a trans heroine.

Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa--this one is actually a YA Pride and Prejudice retelling, highly recommend if you're open to it. In this case, the Lizzie character is actually Oliver, a trans boy, and he and Darcy fall in love--molly houses are included in this, which I really like. It's not super about historical accuracy, which I personally dgaf about, and it's very sweet and funny and warm. Also, the author is a trans man.

Queer Polyamory

Scandalous Passions by Nicola Davidson--FFM. A king's former mistress is sent away because the queen hates her, and is also asked to care for the king's ward. She and the ward begin to give in to their attraction, and at the same time their escort is this much-feared knight (who's really quite subby) who's been in love with the older heroine for years. And then he begins falling for the ward as well.... Super sexy medieval, with Dom/sub overtones.

Their Marchioness by Jess Michaels--A playwright is asked to a marquess and marchioness's home... Turns out he and the marchioness were in love before she was forced to marry the marquess. Fortunately, she and her husband are now very much in love, and he's basically gifting her a tryst with her old love for her birthday. Then he joins in... and it begins being more than sex. Has some bi awakening stuff.

M/F with Bi leads

The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes by Cat Sebastian--a standalone followup to Kit Webb. Percy's stepmother Marian is having a correspondence with a blackmailer, who unbeknownst to her is her odious husband's secret son. He ends up falling in love with her as they go back and forth with letters, so when she ends up in trouble and on the run, he comes to "save" her, only to find that Marian ain't that girl. Both leads are bi, and the sex is really cool and interesting because Marian doesn't like penetration due to trauma surrounding her pregnancy and labor. So she penetrates him (among other things) instead.

Hugo and The Maiden by S.M. LaViolette--a successful sex worker ends up being transported and washing ashore after a shipwreck. He's very snarky, but finds himself up against the vicar's uptight and uncompromising daughter--but he still has enemies lurking. Hugo is openly (for the day) bi and services both men and women. I really liked that even as he fell in love, his bisexuality wasn't like this background thing--he sees a guy he likes at one point and is basically like "if I wasn't taken......."

Any Duke in a Storm by Amalie Howard--a spy (who's also kind of a lady pirate) ends up being attracted to her super rakish and slutty first mate. She's bisexual, and one of the women on her ship is her former hookup (still her friend), which I like.

Melissa and The Vicar by S.M. LaViolette--a madame goes to a small village to recuperate and de-stress, and ends up falling in love with a virginal vicar she's so sure she can't have. Melissa is bisexual, and I thiiink a woman she used to be involved with is on the page? Her hero, Magnus, kind of has a "oh shit am I bi?" moment when Melissa tries to fake him out by pretending she's hooking up with Hugo. To be fair, everyone wants to fuck Hugo.

In Which Margo Halifax Earns Her Shocking Reputation--a scandalous woman begins chasing her sister (who ran off with a Bad Man) along with her brother's best friend, who's secretly in love with her. Margo is bi, and her relationships with women are one reason why she's considered scandalous~.

[hellizens-aa]

"There sure do seem to be a lot of babies around today..."

Does he wish he had one? Yes.

Will he mention that? No.

[gm-warlic]

DragonFable Timeline

Hello again my friends! Now that Book 3 is complete, I am back with an updated timeline complete with holiday events! It isn't perfect, as I am missing the most recent holiday events (really hoping I can fit those into Book 4 or the space between Books 3 & 4), but I think this is a pretty accurate timeline overall, perfect for all those wanting to play the game all the way through now that Book 3 is finished.

(One thing to remember is that not all holiday events happen exactly on the holiday itself, and not all are explicitly a year after the last event. I have placed certain holiday events in the same year where it makes sense to do so)

Book 1

Year 1

A Hero is Born Bored

Oaklore

Falconreach

Undead Assault

Sepulchure's Flying Fortress

Ice Dragon War

Frostval Chapter 1: A Frostval Tale

(This technically isn't actually the holiday itself, but instead the event that leads to the Frost Moglins creating the holiday, so it does not necessarily have to happen at the same time of the year as the holiday. After all, Jesus wasn't born in December)

Dragon Egg Saga

Robina→The Hatching

Sunbreeze Grove

DragonLord Training

Willowshire Burns

Amityvale

Haunted House

Crystal Clear Lake

Graveyard (Meet Artix)

Sir Ano's Quests

Beach Invasion 

Amityvale 

Vampire Tower

War at See

Mogloween Chapter 1: First Mogloween

Saving Lymcrest

Thankstaking Chapters 1→3

Sunbreeze Grove

Titans of BattleOn

Frostval Chapter 2: Out in the Cold!

Year 2

Wind Orb Saga

Water Breathing Potions

Nythera Saga

Stocking the Shelves→It's Elementary!

Wind Orb Saga

Pirates vs Ninjas War→Sepulchure

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 1→2

Lucky Day Chapters 1 & 3

Nythera Saga

Potion Mastery

Darkness Orb Saga

Save Moonridge!→Moonridge: Saved!

Light Orb Saga

Meeting Zhoom→Dynasty Tomb

Darkness Orb Saga

The Outcast

Nythera Saga 

The Storm→The Storm War

Darkness Orb Saga

The Gate Keeper→Extra Credit

Light Orb Saga

The Sandwich→Death From Below!

Ice Orb Saga

Mogloween Chapter 3: Mogloween Theft

Archknight

Thankstaking Chapter 4: Gooble-ocalypse

Energy Orb Saga

Frostval Chapter 3: Lumps of Coal!

Year 3

Fire Orb Saga

A Letter From Home→The Ultimate Weapon

Vilmor Saga

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 3: Change of Heart

Lucky Day Chapter 4: (Somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge)

Fire Orb Saga

Going East→Epilogue

Water Orb Saga

Mogloween Chapters 4→5

Tomix Saga

Highway→Museum

The Clashening

Thankstaking Chapter 5: Welcomegiving!

Nythera Saga

Into the Void→Face Your Destiny

Tomix Saga

Penitentiary→The End?

Darkness Orb Saga

A Dark Letter→Memory-Demons

Tomix Saga

Meeting Aegis→Soulweaver Training

Frostval Chapter 4: Frosty Reception

Year 4

Earth Orb Saga

Dravir Siege→Gorgok?

Spy Saga

Earth Orb Saga

Guardian Tower?→The Whole Truth

Nythera Saga

Know Your Nature→Embrace Your Destiny 

Earth Orb Saga

The Temple→Hidden Blades

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 4: The Greatest Hug of All

Lucky Day Chapter 5: Unlucky Escape

The Final 13th

Between

True Mortal: The Rise of Nivalis

Alexander's Saga 

(Not when the events actually occur, but when you should play the questline)

Book 2

Elemental Dissonance

Introduction: Flames in the Dark→A Brief Respite

Mogloween Chapter 6: 48 Weeks Later 

Elemental Dissonance

To Atrea→The Hunt Begins

Thankstaking Chapter 6: The Biggest Thankstaking Ever!

Elemental Dissonance

Appointment

Frostval Chapters 5→6

Year 5

Elemental Dissonance

North→The Merge

Between  

Thankstaking Chapter 7: Good Gravy!

(Yes, this is while the Hero is frozen. But these events actually don't need the Hero to be present to happen exactly as they do, and the feast has character models from both Book 1 and Book 3)

Book 3

Year 5/13

The End of Magic

Hero is Thawed→Player Hatching

Ravenloss

To Edelia→The Headmaster

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 5: The Threat List!

Calamity

13th 13th

Popsmashed

Ravenloss

The Gnomes Gnow→Autumn Wind

The End of Magic

The Rose Tree→Sands of Eternity

Ravenloss

Desert Night→Tithril

Blood and Roses

Full Moon War→Swamp Lake

Ravenloss

Deep Void→The Codex

The End of Magic

Discover Sulen'Eska

Song on the Wind→Dancing Breeze

Calamity

Forest Hunt→The Evil Artifact

Mogloween Chapters 7→8

Thankstaking Chapters 8→10

Frostval Chapters 7→8

Year 6/14

The End of Magic

Smoke in the Trees→Chains of Command

Blood and Roses

Neron's Request→Blood Patrol: Weres

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 7: The Love Ship

Lucky Day Chapters 6→7

Ravenloss

Into the Ynnungaap→Epilogue 

The End of Magic

Haven on the Horizon→The Siege of Haven

Calamity 

Serenity Before the Storm

Mogloween Chapter 9: Candy Troubles 

Calamity

The Valtrith Tomb→Breaking Down

Thankstaking Chapter 11: Attack of the Filler Golems!

Blood and Roses

The Locket→Blood and Roses

Frostval Chapters 9→10

Year 7/15

Calamity

Shattered→Ashes

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 8: Bubble Trouble

Lucky Day Chapter 9: Cysero's Golden Eggs

The End of Magic

One Step Forward→Trust

The Shears

Oculus Tower→ Shear Destruction

Ravenloss

Just Chillin'

The End of Magic

Melissa→ A Day for Farewells

Calamity

Madness→ Weal

The Nest

The Nest→ Leaving the Nest

The End of Magic

Unbound→ Timelines

The Thorns

Dark Devices

The Nest

Epilogue

Mogloween Chapter 10: Bubble Trouble 

Calamity

Corruption→Epilogue 

Thankstaking Chapter 12: The Felonious Five

Frostval Chapters 11→13

Year 8/16

The End of Magic

The Tournament of Champions

The Thorns

Enigmatic Epidemic→Artifact Heist

Six Heroes

Return to Lymcrest→The Burning Village

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 9→11

The Maleurous

Sinnocence→Remthalas

The Thorns

A New Student→Theano: A Thorn's Story

The Maleurous

Mr. Nameless

Ravenloss

Secundus

The Maleurous

Archive E-189-L

Six Heroes

The Apprentice→ ANOMALY 

The Maleurous

The Angel of Azaveyr→Myalos

Mogloween Chapters 11→15

(Time in Apsaydaaun is stated to move differently than on Lore, so these could all feasibly happen in the same month)

The Maleurous 

Iconoclasm→Reality

The Thorns

Fear

The Maleurous

Epilogue: Remembrance 

Thankstaking Chapters 13→14

The Thorns

Fortress of Thorns→Epilogue: Loose Ends

Frostval Chapter 15: The Great Giftnapping

Year 9/17

The End of Magic

My Spot→Khvorost

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 12→13

The End of Magic

A Petal Falls→Plans Entwined 

The First Weaver

Introduction→Father of Mine

The End of Magic

Out of Control→Sunfall: Part 2

Mogloween Chapter 17: The Ebil Dread

(Technically this would be partway through Storm in the Night, as I imagine it as the Hero stopping in Falconreach on their way to Doomwood, but the quest skips from talking in Swordhaven to arriving in Doomwood)

The First Weaver

From the Citadel with Love→Marzanna

The End of Magic

Storm in the Night→Broken Circuit (Part 1)

The First Weaver

The Beginning of the End→The End of the Beginning

The End of Magic

Broken Circuit (Part 2)→Of Duty and Dragons

Thankstaking Chapters 16-17

The End of Magic 

Speaker and Slayer→Reasons to Fight

Frostval Chapter 16: The Grand Snowfight

The End of Magic

Into the Unknown→Awakened Depths (Epilogue)

Frostval Chapter 17: The Reindragon

Year 10/18

The End of Magic

The Point of No Return (Part 1)→The End of Magic (Epilogue)

I hope you enjoy the timeline! (It took a lot of work to put together) Battle On!

[zomboivex]

Aha theory time (half cracked because I’m at work and can’t actually scrape the details but I needta get it off my CHEST)

Hyde is the spy that Taiga is referring to.

Why?

Campus hangout with Taiga he states “don’t fuck with me” to Hyde.

Hyde also pretty much is friendly to MC right off the bat.

But he’s hiding something (and not just his eyes y’all).

I just don’t trust any staff at Darkwick at all.

Hyde is also overly friendly but makes calculated choices on his part. (Especially with this new chapter).

And even Sho seems frosty towards his own brother. Granted- that could be for a multitude of reasons (of which being a younger sibling could def do)

Speaking of- secret missions? Hmm…….

Interesting way to end there…

Anyways .

I’ll elaborate further

And also leave you with a crack theory that I have 0 backing on-

But I think Hyde is the reason both Sho & Leo made demon pacts (and survived and came to Darkwick). My gut just tells me.

Gonna scream into the void now while I furiously writhe in pain at work

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange identity reveal? I was reading Spy x Family when I thought of this, so that's the background/setting I was thinking of initially, but it can definitely be a superhero thing too. Or whatever other idea pops into your head. I'm always excited to see what you come up with!

I read the top of the wikipedia entry for Spy x Family, but that setup is not working for me here, so instead we’re going with some classic “Iron Man is Tony Stark’s bodyguard” shenanigans. 😀

Uh, this got… more than a little out of hand. This has many themes in common with other drabbles, but now it’s 1360 words long. Enjoy?

Under the read more for length.

-

Tony stares stubbornly at Steve, who is rubbing his eyes with the kind of exhausted exasperation that has become his hallmark around Iron Man.

“Iron Man, you were unconscious,” Steve says. “After being electrocuted. You need a real medical check.”

“The armor has medical sensors,” Tony insists. “It says I’m fine. I can answer questions for a neurological exam. That’ll have to be good enough.”

Steve gets that stubborn look on his face. The one that no one wins against. Fuck. “You’re benched until you get a real medical check.”

“How about if I get checked out in my civilian identity?” Tony suggests.

“We have no way of verifying that you’ve done that,” Steve says. “And while I hate to say you’d lie, I can’t dismiss the possibility after this conversation. I understand your hesitation about revealing your identity, but your life is at stake.”

“It’s really not,” Tony mutters. He’s fine. But he can tell that Steve isn’t going to budge on this, and he wants to be off the bench sooner rather than later. “Fine. Call Strange, then.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Doctor Strange? He’s not a practicing physician.”

“He’s kept his certifications, though.”

“And he hates you.”

Stephen hates Iron Man. He’s quite fond of Tony Stark, though. They’re… friends. He’s asked Tony on half a dozen dates, which Tony has been forced to turn down because he refuses to lie about something as important as Iron Man to someone he’s dating. It’s made for a lonely couple of years. At least if he has to reveal his identity to someone, he might get a date out of it. If Stephen forgives him for lying. If he can get past Tony Stark being an Avenger in general (apparently they make a lot of work for the sorcerers; something about the barriers between dimensions) and Iron Man in specific, who he’s always hated the most. 

“Then you’ll know he’s being honest when he clears me,” is all Tony says aloud.

Steve still looks baffled, but he makes the call.

Tony’s expecting Stephen to be angry when he arrives. He may keep his medical certifications up to date, but he doesn’t work as a doctor and he’s sure as hell not on call for the Avengers. But when he arrives he’s crisply professional, if frosty. He’s even wearing a lab coat over street clothes. He locks the exam room door behind him, which would be odd except that he follows it up with, “Armor off.” Tony hesitates. Stephen’s expression tightens. “Captain Rogers indicated you were willing to be examined,” he says sharply.

“This is kind of a big deal,” Tony snaps. “There is literally no one living that knows who I am.”

Stephen blinks. “Surely Tony knows.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah. About that.” He issues the command, and the helmet retracts. 

Stephen stares. And stares. And there it is. There’s the anger. “You utter fucking idiot!” He shouts. “What the hell are you doing risking your life in that goddamned tin can?! Don’t you know what a catastrophic loss it would be if you died out there?”

Okay, Stephen is yelling, but it seems like… good yelling? “I’m saving people,” Tony argues.

“You save plenty of people as Tony Stark!” Thank God the soundproofing in this place is spectacular; Stephen doesn’t lower his voice one bit. “So why do you insist on ruining your own life with this, this,” he waves his hand inarticulately at the armor still covering Tony to the neck, “bullshit.”

Okay, that’s enough. “Iron Man is not ruining my life! It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!”

Stephen's expression shifts from furious to incredulous. “The best thing?” he demands. “The best thing? What about the 100 million dollar donation to spinal cord research? The Foundation that helps people rebuild after things like alien invasions when their insurance won’t? What about the shield you invented that makes it possible for people with sensitive implants to get an MRI safely, or the modular smartphone that doesn’t need to be replaced every two years? What about the scholarships you’ve endowed?”

“Stephen—”

“Are those not big enough in scale?” Stephen demands. “How about the clean energy technology that looks like it might stop global warming in its tracks? Is that enough? Is one planet not enough? Do we need to talk about the international collaboration that you started to combine Earth’s resources with alien technology to turn us into an interstellar civilization before another interstellar civilization can dismiss us as barbarians—”

“I’m not the one who decided none of that counted!” Tony shouted over Stephen. It stops the tirade, at least. Tony blows out a hard breath. “The guy who donates the 100 million dollars isn’t the hero,” he goes on. “That’s the guy who makes the discovery. The Foundation isn’t celebrated for the people it helps, it’s critiqued for the ones it doesn’t. The MRI shield, the smartphone… people like them, but they’re advances that ‘were always coming’. Or maybe ‘were overdue’. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing. Of course they’re worth doing.” Tony retracts a gauntlet and rubs a hand over his face. God, he’s tired. “I just… I wanted to be the hero for once,” he admits. It sounds so fucking selfish. “Tony Stark could never do enough. It always had to be about the money for them, even when it really wasn’t about the money for me. But Iron Man… No one wonders what his ulterior motive is when he does something good. They just cheer.”

Stephen sighs and hitches himself up onto the medical bed next to Tony. “Do you know why I hated Iron Man so much?”

Tony grimaces. “I always figured he was just too… blunt instrument for you.”

Stephen snorts. “Hulk and Cap are far more blunt,” he says. “Iron Man at least has precision weapons to go with the punches. No. I hated Iron Man because when the suit failed somehow Tony got the blame, but when it worked, Iron Man got the credit. Iron Man made everything you just explained worse, not better.”

There’s not really a counter argument for that. It’s true. Except, “Nothing was going to make that better,” Tony says. “Nothing could. Not until I’m dead, anyway.” He half expects Stephen to go right back to haranguing him for risking his life. 

“Speaking of which, I’m meant to be making sure you’re not dying now,” Stephen says. He stands and moves to face Tony. “Come on. Get the rest of the armor off.”

Tony obliges, and they proceed with the rest of the exam in silence. 

Near the end, Tony looks over Stephen’s shoulder rather than meet his eyes and says, quietly, “I’m not going to stop.”

“My initial reaction aside,” Stephen answers, just as soft, “I never thought you would. I know as well as anyone how this life becomes a part of you.” When he finishes the exam, he steps back. “You’re fine.” 

Tony nods and puts the armor back on. It’s never been so quiet between them before. His chest aches.

When he’s got everything but the helmet back on, Stephen stops him. “Is this why you always said no when I asked you out?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Didn’t seem right to lie like that to my partner.”

“Right.” Stephen nods firmly. “So will you go out with me now?”

Tony perks up. “You still want to?”

Stephen gives him a look. “You have not had a personality transplant,” he says dryly. “So yes, I still want to.”

Do not push your luck, Tony tells himself. He says it anyway, “Thought the lying might be a bigger deal.”

“Everyone keeps secrets,” Stephen says. “But the secrets that a friend will accept are different from the secrets that a partner will accept. You’ve already demonstrated that you understand that.” Tony grins and Stephen shoots him a look. “We will, however, be having words about you assuming I’d react like anyone else in your life.”

Tony swallows a laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I should have known you’d be exceptional.” 

“And don’t forget it,” Stephen says, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.