#Tactician's Edition

[isagrimorie]

Star Trek Voyager, 4x08 - Year of Hell, Part 1

Captain Kathryn Janeway as a Brilliant Tactician, part 1, 2, 3 (version 1) (version 2)

[fore-seer]

this is the FINAL version im never remaking my main awakening file again <- probably lying

[neckromancy]

Spent way too long editing outfit colours in-game, but we chillin'

Figured I'd mimic the way I never know how to pose for a photo IRL either

[fable2]

About to duel orin in honour mode everybody please wish me luck. My durge is a wizard and I am so so so scared

[heartsiebyul]

Hiii 😁😁😁, are your requests open? If it is, can I request all characters of TWST x Famous Author of many genres reader? Reader is a girl in this, she's famous but she's shy whenever some of her fans come up to her in public, but she tries to be confident. The TWST characters are big fans of her books. If you can't do all the characters, it's okay! You can just choose whoever character you want. Thank you beh! 🥳

જ⁀➴ Twisted Wonderland x reader!

Twisted Wonderland characters paired with a Famous Multi-Genre Author Reader who is renowned for writing across genres like fantasy, horror, romance, and mystery. Each character is a genuine fan of your work and has their own unique reactions.

featuring — Rook : Idia : Azul : Leona : Vil : Jamil : Riddle.

──── ──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Rook Hunt

Rook had always believed that beauty could be found in all things, and your words were his latest obsession. He'd devoured your fantasy novels, lingered over your tragic romance, and even praised your horror stories for how they stirred his "âme artistique." When he spotted you at a cafe, casually flipping through a gardening magazine, his gasp of delight drew the attention of half the store. “Auteur extraordinaire!” he cried, approaching you with such dramatic flair that you nearly dropped your coffee. You tried to put on a cool smile, but your flushed cheeks betrayed your nerves. Rook, of course, found it "ravissant."

When you stammered through your thanks and tried to regain composure, Rook leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “You do not need to pretend with me, monsieur auteur. I have seen your soul on paper—it is bold, honest, and magnifique!” You were so startled by his sincerity that you laughed awkwardly, covering your face. Rook simply beamed, already pulling out a copy of your latest thriller for you to sign. “May I request a personalized dedication for the hunter of beauty?” he asked, and despite your embarrassment, you wrote a message that made his heart flutter more than any poem.

Idia Shroud

Idia had known about you before you were famous. He’d followed your early blog posts, your serialized horror chapters on underground forums, and even coded a private fan wiki dedicated to analyzing your worldbuilding. When your romantic sci-fi series became mainstream, he nearly combusted with conflicting emotions: pride that his favorite author was getting the attention you deserved, and terror that other people might talk to you in public. He never dreamed he’d actually see you at a game launch event, let alone find himself standing next to you in line.

You didn’t notice him at first—too busy shrinking into your hoodie as fans approached for autographs. But then Idia blurted out a line from one of your darker fantasy books—a line only a real fan would know—and your eyes lit up. “You… read that one?” you asked, visibly surprised. Idia nearly short-circuited, mumbling something about being a long-time supporter. When you offered him a signed copy of your newest book, he hesitated, then pulled out a dog-eared, annotated edition of your debut novel. "This one… means a lot," he said quietly. You smiled warmly, and it took every ounce of his will not to scream.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was first drawn to your books because of the meticulous structure of your mysteries. As a tactician and businessman, he admired how you constructed plots like deals—layered, calculated, and sharp. When he hosted a private reading club at Mostro Lounge, he made sure your work was always on the menu. He finally met you after sponsoring a literary charity event, where you were a guest speaker. You arrived looking nervous despite your fame, eyes flickering with panic when cameras flashed. Azul, ever the gentleman, offered you his arm and led you inside with a charming smile.

“Confidence is like ink, isn’t it?” he said smoothly once you were seated. “Even if you feel like you're running out, you can always dip the pen again.” You laughed shakily, clearly trying to hold it together as another group of fans approached. Azul shooed them away politely, giving you a moment to breathe. “I must confess,” he added, “I keep a signed copy of The Merchant’s Veil in my office. That negotiation scene? Inspirational.” His praise was so earnest that you couldn’t help but grin, blush and all. He offered to collaborate on a new themed drink menu for your next fantasy release—and how could you say no?

Leona Kingscholar

Leona wasn’t a reader—not until one of your high fantasy books was left in the lounge and he picked it up out of boredom. One chapter in, and he was hooked. The warring kingdoms, the morally gray antiheroes, the sharp political intrigue? It reminded him of home. Now, he secretly waits for every new installment, claiming he’s “too lazy” to get excited but tearing through your books in one sitting. When he caught sight of you at a rare book fair in Sunset Savannah, trying to sign autographs while avoiding the crowd’s full attention, he raised a brow and approached with his usual swagger.

“You don’t look like the confident genius your books make you out to be,” he drawled, slouching next to your table. You chuckled nervously, muttering that you weren’t good with people. “That so?” he smirked. “Could’ve fooled me. Your war scenes feel like you’ve lived ’em.” You blushed, trying to downplay it, but he just leaned closer. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the hyenas swarm you. Just sign my copy and you can hide behind me for the next hour.” You laughed in relief, and Leona shrugged. “Least I can do. You got me hooked on reading, after all.”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was skeptical at first. A celebrity author writing romance and fantasy? He assumed it was another trend-rider. But when he read Silver Ash and Crimson Vows, he was stunned by your elegant prose, your nuanced characters, and your themes of self-worth beneath fame’s glittering surface. He became a devoted reader—though he’d never fangirl publicly. When he met you backstage at a charity fashion gala, you looked lost and overwhelmed by the attention, gripping your phone like a lifeline. Vil noticed instantly, striding over with composed grace.

“Deep breaths,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “They admire your brilliance, but don’t let them drown your voice.” You recognized him immediately and fumbled a compliment, flustered. Vil only smiled. “You don’t need to perform for me. I know authenticity when I see it—on stage and on paper.” He asked you thoughtful questions about character symbolism in your romance books, subtly shielding you from cameras with his poise. “Art deserves to be nurtured,” he added, and you realized that behind his perfectionism was a kindred spirit who truly respected your work.

Jamil Viper

Jamil grew up craving escape—so when he discovered your stories, he devoured them in secret. Your psychological thrillers and complex protagonists spoke to him in ways he couldn’t voice. He hid your books under his mattress, annotating them late at night while pretending to sleep. One day, while chaperoning Kalim to a public festival, he spotted you trying to deflect a swarm of fans with an obviously forced smile. Jamil, sighing, pushed Kalim away and approached you with a calm, protective presence.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he murmured, handing you a cold drink without asking. “I’ve read your interviews. You hate crowds.” You blinked at him in surprise, touched by his quiet perceptiveness. He didn’t gush or ask for a photo. He just said, “Your words helped me breathe when I couldn’t. Thanks for that.” You nodded, too moved to reply. Before leaving, he offered you a worn paperback of your earliest novel—scarred with years of re-reading. “This one? It saved me more than once.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle discovered your work through your historical fantasy novel, The Hollow Prince, and was immediately enthralled by the richly layered themes of legacy, loyalty, and rebellion against unjust systems. It mirrored his own personal journey so closely that he read it three times over and annotated every page. He admired your sharp prose and the way your protagonists questioned traditions without discarding honor. So when he heard you were attending a literary symposium, he made immediate arrangements to attend—under the guise of “academic enrichment.”

You were visibly flustered in the crowded hall, trying to smile for fans while glancing longingly toward the exit. Riddle, noticing your discomfort, approached with precise steps and an empathetic gaze. “You don’t have to force a brave face,” he said gently, offering you a glass of water. “Your books already show your strength. You don’t need to prove it in front of strangers.” You blinked, stunned by his unexpected kindness. When he pulled out his well-worn copy of The Hollow Prince, marked with color-coded tabs and notes in elegant script, your smile turned genuine. “You helped me understand myself better,” he said quietly, cheeks tinged pink. “So let me return the favor by making this moment easier for you.”

📚 Books Credited to Original Authors (Pretending Reader Wrote Them):

1. The Hollow Prince (inspired by “The Bear and the Nightingale” by Katherine Arden)

2. Silver Ash and Crimson Vows (inspired by “The Cruel Prince” by Holly Black)

3. The Merchant’s Veil (inspired by “Six of Crows” by Leigh Bardugo)

4. The Kingdom’s Debt (inspired by “A Song of Ice and Fire” by George R.R. Martin)

5. Whispers in the Fog (inspired by “Rebecca” by Daphne du Maurier)

6. Starcrossed in Dystopia (inspired by “The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins)

7. Fractured Wings (inspired by “If We Were Villains” by M.L. Rio)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[thehumantrampoline]

Everybody's always talking about how hard it is to write "geniuses" when you're not one. But geniuses aren't hard if you're talking about the logical chessmaster tactician kind, or even the intuitive kind. Those types are characterized mostly by always thinking "ten moves ahead" or whatever, or understanding things at a glance that others wouldn't notice.

But you're the writer. You know ALL the moves in advance, presumably, or you can anyway (harder to write a genius without an outline) and you already understand how your world works, you don't have to intuit anything. You get to slip the cheat sheet to your genius. You don't have to work from beginning to end like geniuses do, you just have to solve the maze backward. This is always the easiest way to write mysteries or conspiracies, and also Sherlock Holmes style deductions: determine the answer, and then come up with ways somebody would get to that answer. It's easy for your genius to plan for every eventuality when you control the eventualities, or can go back and write their plan for them in on the edits. "Genius" is a concept created by their ability to adapt to or control the circumstances, and you're the one writing the circumstances.

Geniuses are easy. SPECIALISTS, though. Specialists will have you with ten wikipedia tabs open watching your fifth video essay on relativistic physics and crying.

[elissastillstands]

Mods (my sense of dignity) are asleep, time to post "Minthara/Tav as vintage romance covers" edits.

I spent my teenage years pilfering books from my older cousin's huge collection of romance paperbacks, so this is a hit of nostalgic, self-indulgent silliness (nothing but the best for MY romance hero, the centuries-old paladin of vengeance). Thank you to @aristenfromwarsaw for the beautiful screenshots I used in these!

To match the edit, there are some fun and fluffy headcanons about Minthara and my Tav below the cut.

Tav's name is Hasdrubal. She and Minthara do not have a portmanteau, but these are their relationship monikers in my head:

H&M: for when I think I'm being funny

Vengeance and Devotion: because Hasdrubal is a paladin of devotion

Nemesis ad portas ("Vengeance at the gates"): Nemesis is the embodiment of vengeance in Graeco-Roman mythology, and Hannibal ad portas ("Hannibal at the gates") is a phrase used in Roman writing to signify imminent danger. For context, Hasdrubal is, historically speaking, the brother of that same Hannibal, the Carthaginian general who fought against Rome in the Second Punic War (a.k.a. the guy who crossed the Alps with elephants).

They are both exactly 5'2". If there's any height difference between them, they had to go to the effort of putting it there. Someone has to be standing on a crate.

They aren't overly affectionate in public, but they do things like helping each other buckle on their armor, using each other's weaponry, and sharing food at taverns. Hasdrubal in particular eats anything that Minthara puts in front of her, and Minthara lets her order her drinks. Everyone else soon realizes this is sappier than any display of PDA.

They love a sparring match. They love a brawl. They love to recreationally duke it out and pull in the other melee fighters in the party, either to referee or to make it a full bracket. They are single-handedly keeping the potions stores in Baldur's Gate afloat.

Hasdrubal is as much of an idealist as it is physically possible for her to be, and Minthara is deeply pragmatic and focused on outcomes rather than means. There are some things about which they will argue until the heat death of the universe. And alongside this, they share fundamental beliefs in duty, responsibility, and the importance of community—which lets them build a foundation of mutual respect, even when they deeply disagree.

For the timeline that is my tactician run, they both multiclassed into other charisma casting classes. Minthara tapped into sorcerous arcana that she could only access after leaving Lolth’s direct control and being freed of the Absolute, and Hasdrubal pacted to a general of Asmodeus as a way of interfacing with her own Infernal heritage. However, they are still first and foremost paladins, and their relationship is deeply and paradigmatically paladin4paladin. In all things, there is reciprocity.

Hasdrubal is in her 30s, a third of the way into her lifespan. I like to headcanon that Minthara is about halfway through her lifespan, which for drow is about 350, equivalent to ~50 for a human or tiefling. A fantasy lifespan difference is always bittersweet, but the bright point for the two of them is gleefully speculating on what it’ll be like in a few decades, when Hasdrubal starts to go gray and look older than Minthara. Once again, in all things, there is reciprocity.

Hasdrubal is trying to learn Undercommon in the most careful and universally respectful way possible, which Minthara has a hard time reconciling with the customs of Menzoberranzan. Minthara is learning Infernal, but she gravitates towards high religious and philosophical texts which Hasdrubal is unfamiliar with (she and her family are second and third generation Baldurians; she has spoken fluency in Infernal but not reading fluency). They spend a lot of time talking about the features of language and what language means to them.

Minthara plays the spider lyre, but most of the songs she knows are hymns to Lolth. She’s too proud of her past life in Menzoberranzan to let them go, but she hates the thought of singing praises to the Spider Queen. Through talking about the hymns and what they mean to her with Hasdrubal, she finds a way to sing them on her own terms.

Hasdrubal gets Minthara to do the fantasy equivalent of a stand-up open mic. Minthara is, against her own better judgement, very, very good at it.

[vivsinkpot]

Plotting vs Discovery Writing: Should You Plan Your Story or Wing It?

Ah, the age-old writer’s dilemma:

Do you map every scene like a tactician drawing battle plans — or dive in with nothing but vibes and a chaotic sense of adventure?

Here’s a breakdown of the pros and cons of both approaches — and why the real magic might lie somewhere in between. 🖋️

Plotting (Outlining / Planning)

Pros:

✔️ Clear direction – You know where you’re going. No getting lost in the woods.

✔️ Foreshadowing magic – You can plant clues, callbacks, and payoff arcs with confidence.

✔️ Fewer plot holes – A roadmap helps spot inconsistencies early.

✔️ Less panic during writing – You’ve already solved some of the hardest narrative problems.

Cons:

✖️ It can feel rigid – The story may resist your outline or outgrow it.

✖️ Planning fatigue – You might lose momentum before the writing even begins.

✖️ Less room for surprise – Characters can feel boxed in by pre-decided fates.

✖️ Too much structure can kill discovery – Sometimes the magic is in what you didn’t see coming.

Discovery Writing (Pantsing / Writing as You Go)

Pros:

✔️ Creative freedom – You’re exploring in real time. Characters can surprise you.

✔️ Organic pacing – The story flows from instinct and mood.

✔️ Emotional authenticity – Moments feel raw, fresh, and true to how they unfolded.

✔️ Writing is more exciting – You’re discovering the story as a reader would.

Cons:

✖️ You might write into a corner – Plot knots are harder to untangle without a plan.

✖️ Revision may be intense – You’ll likely need more editing to fix structure, foreshadowing, and pacing.

✖️ Themes may be muddled – Without direction, your story can lose its core.

✖️ Momentum stalls – Getting stuck is common if you don’t know what happens next.

The Hybrid Approach (A Little Bit of Both)

Plot the skeleton. Discover the heart.

Many writers outline broad strokes (major beats, ending, key twists), but leave space to discover the emotional or interpersonal journey as they write.

You might:

Write a chapter, then outline the next.

Plan major events, but improvise how characters get there.

Start as a pantser, then reverse-outline what you’ve done.

There’s no “right” way — just the one that keeps you writing and enjoying your craft.

Final Thought:

Plotting is a compass.

Pantsing is a storm.

Every writer’s ship sails differently — but the goal is the same: reach the end, and love the journey.

[beeluckylucky]

Michael Morningstar

The Great Prince of Heaven

Saint Michael, The Archangel

He is the most powerful angel ever created and the right hand of God. He is considered a symbol of faith, balance and justice. In heaven he is the Highest authority after God. He is respected and trusted by all in Heaven.

In terms of personality, Michael is compassionate, loyal,  intelligent, honest, kind, patient, and has a calm demeanor. As the general and prince of the heavenly host, he is a firm leader and always tale wise to decisions (or he tries to), he is also a great tactician and a skilled commanding officer. As the oldest of his siblings, he feels deeply responsible for all of them and always tries to show them genuine affection, because he cares and wants them to know.

Despite being sympathetic towards humanity, he does dislike sinners and has no hesitation when it comes to delivering his frightening judgment at those who failed to choose the right path.

And even in Heaven, when he usually shows and feels more calm, he would not doubt to put anyone in their place if it means assuring the safety of his children.

He has a scar on his chest from his fight with Lucifer when he was cast out of Heaven.

(Edited)

[jinnaizaemon]

Nintama Starter Kit

This post aims to nudge you in the right direction for Nintama related resources. Please understand that since no medium in the franchise, be it the manga, anime, musicals, etc, is licensed in English, any rip and translation you find online is the work of fans. The same goes for any watch guide or meta post. Fandom is a collaborative effort and you are very welcome to join in and share your own resources to share with everyone. Again, because the show isn't licensed, we rely on unofficial rips to access the franchise - I can't make large archives publicly available because I don't want NHK castle to raid us. It won't be as straightforward as a Netflix playlist and you will have to click around to find things. Don't pass links on widely shared social media like twitter and don't repost videos to Youtube and such. Please understand that the more we centralize things, the more vulnerable we become, so let's exerce caution and keep things low. My posts don't need to circulate.

A watch guide to get into the franchise and give you proper context for "The Strongest Tactician", the latest movie in the franchise.

Tasogaredokijou, our fansub group, releases new episodes in English weekly. We reblog others' fansubs too.

Tasogaredokijou's translated episodes index.

Tasogaredokijou's tag centralizing other people's subs. (if we missed yours and it's not MTL, please let us know so we can reblog it too.)

Tasogaredokijou's Discord server. There's a resource channel with archives. We regularly stream yet unreleased episodes and movies in English.

A guide to help you find specific episodes.

A guide to help you match manga chapters and their anime adaptation.

Ars-vanitas' index of subbed episodes.

Hemu Hemu Latino, an inactive fansub group who released episodes subtitled in Spanish, as well as episodes of the Spanish (from Spain) dub.

Unofficial English wiki. Not updated for a long time, but still a treasure trove of info. Feel free to contribute there!

Unofficial Japanese wiki. Also not up to date, but extremely helpful.

Nintama's dreamwidth community.

Tasogaredokijou's dreamwidth mirror.

Nintama subreddit.

A guide to popular hashtags and etiquette in Japanese fandom.

A guide to platonic pair tags on Pixiv dictionary.

A guide to ship tags on Pixiv dictionary.

Cool blogs to check out for infos, guides, meta, etc:

Rogumi

Zenpouji-isaku

Komatsudaya

Doisensei

I hope this will be helpful to you. I might come back to this post and edit it if more relevant links come up!

[isagrimorie]

Star Trek Voyager, 3x26 - Basics, part 1

Captain Kathryn Janeway as a Brilliant Tactician, part 1, 2, 3 (version 1) (version 2)

This battle is often overlooked but I think this is also an amazing showcase for Janeway and the Voyager crew.

Voyager was up against 4 large Kazon (formerly Trabé ships). Significantly larger than Voyager many times over. Janeway's other talent is bringing together all the suggestions her crew threw together and executing it.

In this instance, using deflector and holo-technology to create ships to draw fire from Voyager.

Plus Janeway's job is to time their attacks precisely. One of the first example of Janeway having nerves of steel. She had to be patient and not let the distance or number of her enemies spooke her.

Voyager was winning the battle against the big Kazon-Nistrim ships-- until the moment their Kazon prisoner blew himself up, sabotaging Voyager.

(Honestly, I wish they repeated this tactic in other battles because it worked really well).

This is just a taste of the war leader Janeway becomes.

[fore-seer]

we persist

[noneatnonedotcom]

not as sick just as bored.

same rules as before, this time we're making a DC superhero. lemme know how strong you think this guy would be.

Etiquette: (100 cp) "You are instinctively knowledgeable about the etiquette and deference that must be shown in any martial art or martial culture. You are aware of faux pas or mild signs of disrespect and will subconsciously avoid making them. You know how to show respect as well as where and when it is best to show it without being considered a sycophant or rude. So long as the culture is rooted in combat and discipline, you will never offend someone unless you actively seek to do "

"Army Defying: (200cp) "You cannot be overwhelmed by mere numbers. If an enemy would not present a threat to you in a one-on-one battle, then any number of similarly skilled foes are equally useless in the face of your martial prowess."

In for a Penny, in for a Pound of Flesh: (200cp) "Training? Guns? Numbers? All is for naut against true battle experience. You have no issue taking on entire armed groups on your lonesome. The more you kill, the larger groups you can take on, and the stronger individuals you can challenge. With a few wars under your belt, taking on a small army or a stone-skinned monster is child’s play "

Instant Ninja: (100cp) "Blending in is all well and good, but if there are security cameras around you'll feel a bit out of luck. You can't do anything, act out or you'll expose yourself. Say you do wanna act though, but aren't in disguise, what are you to do? Upon purchase, you become incredibly skilled at whipping up ""ninja"" themed disguises using only what you have on hand or find in your surroundings. Disguises usually consist of masks, flowing scarves and tactical wrappings that help pull the look off. These improvised disguises are surprisingly effective at keeping your identity secret, with a single flaw that may expose you to the especially observant, your footwear. Something about your shoes leaves them the only thing people will be able to recognize in and out of your disguises, if they ever saw them to begin with."

Angel of the Battlefield: (400cp) "Just being a leading star in the medical field isn’t enough to change the world, not when you have to do it from the front of a battlefield too. While you are most certainly at the front of the pack in terms of medical skill and knowledge of your time, at least as far as Nightingale’s time, your talents are more notable than that. A superb instinct for all things relating to medicine, it allows you to easily master techniques and technology even centuries advanced from your time if you can gain access. Even without access, advancing medical knowledge comes smoothly and quickly to you, accelerating the speed of new discoveries greatly.

Medicine becomes widely applicable in your hands, in some ways superhumanly so. Your knowledge makes you a lethal combatant even with limited combat training, innately understanding the most efficient ways to move your own body, the most vulnerable vital points to strike and how to greatly reduce damage with the right block. Your treatments become applicable on all targets, even against what seems like common sense, as you can stitch up the wounds of spiritual beings with no more difficulty than a flesh and blood human. Even non-humans take only a small time to study before you can effectively understand and begin treatment. While this talent does not directly boost the power of healing magecraft, your knowledge and the skill it lets you use those spells with make you a far superior wielder to most."

edit: forgot the free roll

Philosopher Kings: (free, 100cp) "The greatest kings and military leaders were more than just warriors and tacticians. They were men of incredible fortitude beyond the simple body, with wills to push forward against the impossible for years at a time, so that they could grasp victory. They were more than fighters, with experience as philosophers or explorers that they bent towards their goals of conquest. You’re not a great king yet but you share those beginnings. You’ve got a will like a wall of diamond, incredible hard and near impossible to break or bend. You might not last forever against everything but it’ll take a damn lot to make you bend the knee by choice. Your childhood, where you found that will, was spent not just on military training but also in another field of life of your choice, such as exploring distant lands for years to experience new cultures or spending time as a notable teacher of the arts at home, which has given you a wide array of minor skills and experiences that aid you in finding creative solutions to your enemies."

he spent his childhood learning the law

the basic concept is simple, a frontline doctor who's able to keep up with and heal the heavy hitters of the JL something like a batman but one devoted to keeping his allies in the fight rather than planning up grand strategies to take on the bad guys, that being said he is still growing with every fight, and he can easily ignore fodder. that being said just starting out he's got no combat training and will need someone to help get him started. at least he knows how to do the basics like throw a punch without hurting himself.

@howlingday @heliosthegriffin @weatherman667 how well do you think this hero would do in the DC universe?

[poutysprouty]

THIRST TRAPS FROM THE UNDERWORLD

masterlist

TRACK: SUGI

Stage Name: Sugi Birth Name: Suguru Geto Position(s): Producer, Vocalist, Creative Director Height: 185 cm (6'1") Nationality: Japanese Representative Emoji: 🖤 Fan Facts: - Known for his deep voice and calm, composed presence during interviews. - Produces most of the group’s darker tracks. - Always has his nails painted with black polish. Somehow his polish never chips. Won’t answer questions about what brand he uses. - Wears incense-infused bracelets. Rumor has it they're hand-made in Kyoto. - Shares mysterious glances with Satoru on stage that spark endless fan edits.

Demon Idol!Suguru who wakes slowly every morning. He stretches like a cat before sitting up in a bed of rumpled black sheets, surrounded by handwritten lyrics and charm-infused amulets.

Demon Idol!Suguru who lights a cigarette while still in bed every morning. Not because he needs to, but because the smell reminds him of rain and battlefields. He watches the sky change from ink to grey outside his window and murmurs the first line of a new song, already knowing it won’t leave his head for days.

Demon Idol!Suguru who doesn’t speak unless there’s something worth saying. In interviews, he leans back and answers just rarely enough to keep people hanging off his every word when he finally does speak. In rehearsals, he’s sharp with corrections but soft in tone. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t need to. Even Sukuna listens when Suguru critiques a beat drop.

Demon Idol!Suguru who is a tactician. Every stage, every step, every syllable is calculated. His past as a demon enforcer taught him precision, loyalty, and the cost of mistakes. He was once the Demon King’s favored tactician, known for turning wars with a single command. Now? He writes verses and watches the horizon for signs of collapse.

Demon Idol!Suguru who plays the piano late at night, alone, in a quiet room full of low lamps and incense. Satoru sometimes finds him there and leans on the doorframe with that crooked grin, and teases, “Trying to seduce me with minor chords again?” Suguru smirks without turning around. “You’re the one who keeps showing up.”

Demon Idol!Suguru who doesn’t fight unless there’s no other choice. But when he does? He’s damn near surgical. The others destroy with fury or flair. Suguru erases, like pulling threads from a tapestry. The last time a demon threatened Satoru during a solo shoot, it didn’t survive long enough to scream.

Demon Idol!Suguru who keeps an old note tucked in his wallet. It’s from a child he saved decades ago without meaning to, before he and the others rebelled. The boy had no idea Suguru was a demon. He called him an angel. Suguru never saw him again. But he still carries the folded paper. When things feel too heavy, he runs his thumb along the worn edges and reminds himself why he turned his back on Hell.

Demon Idol!Suguru who is the only one who reads the fine print of the contracts. The managers leave the paperwork to him now. He’s caught five clauses meant to bind them magically to the agency. When Nanami realized this, he didn’t ask questions. He just nodded. “Make sure we don’t get screwed.” Suguru had replied with a small smile. “We won’t. Not while I’m around.”

Demon Idol!Suguru who doesn’t call what he feels for Satoru love. Not out loud. It’s more like a gravity, a pull he’s never bothered to resist. They balance each other. Satoru makes him laugh. Suguru grounds Satoru when the chaos gets to be too much.

Demon Idol!Suguru who is the first to sense the veil thinning. His wards start to pulse. He wakes with nosebleeds and fragmented dreams. He doesn’t tell the others yet. Instead, he draws new sigils in salt and ink, places them beneath their beds, and starts writing a new song.

Demon Idol!Suguru who reacts to the news of the survival show with skepticism. “A distraction,” he says flatly, folding his arms while Sukuna scowls. “Or a trap.” But Satoru’s already pulling up the cast list, saying it might be fun. Suguru watches him with a flicker of something warm in his eyes. “If you get assassinated on camera, I’m not healing you this time.”

Demon Idol!Suguru who stays behind after the meeting, studying the show’s details while the others bicker. He knows better than to dismiss coincidences, especially now. A co-ed idol show debuting in the exact timeframe the seals are weakening? No such thing as luck. He’s halfway through building a protective ward matrix when Satoru barges in holding a tablet and acting like he’s in love.

Demon Idol!Suguru who doesn’t expect much when Satoru tosses the screen at him. “You gotta see her,” Satoru says, voice unusually serious. Suguru sighs, leans back, presses play. The performance is decent. But then she steps forward. Luna. Her presence shimmers like she’s full of magic not yet awakened. Something deep in Suguru’s chest goes still.

Demon Idol!Suguru who rewatches the clip in silence. Her voice awakens something long dormant inside him. Not demonic. Not divine. Something else. She’s not just an idol. She’s a thread in the tapestry. A variable he didn’t account for. And for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t know what that means or what to do about it.

Demon Idol!Suguru who finds Satoru later and hands him back the tablet. “You were right,” he says simply. Satoru grins. “I’m always right.” Suguru arches an eyebrow. “She’s not what she seems.” “Is anyone?” Satoru fires back, nudging his ribs. Suguru lets the smile linger this time. “This show’s going to change everything.”

Demon Idol!Suguru stands on the balcony that night, watching the city flicker beneath clouds. He traces her name into the condensation on his glass. “Who are you?” he murmurs to no one.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

On the left, Fraz-Urbluu, demon lord of illusion and deception. Size and weight unavailable, as reality itself is at his whim. He has innate magic to basically control all of your senses. He can create things and terrain that your brain treats as real and make the whole area seem to be whatever he needs. He can even make you forget something or try to gaslight you with a fake memory. He can terrify, grapple, even make temporary clones of anyone he sees. He's also an architect! Also, note there's no magic domination, his charms are through skill. Frequently tricking even demon lords who KNOW what he's about! In the past he's shown to court clever and creative individuals, so if you're chosen I'm sure it'll be a ride of your life!...but not one in your control.

Bael, The Bronze General, Duke of the third layer of Hell! 8 feet (2.4 meters), telepathic, can transform into other humanoid species, make illusions, mentally dominate creatures, turn invisible, and fly! Also supernaturally frightens anyone nearby, though he can turn that off! He's a brilliant tactician, a terror on the battlefield, but is actually happy to show mercy. He's a straightforward guy with a skill and interest he likes, but is frustrated because he can't seem to rise in rank. He's just too naive. Most people know he'd be a much better choice for ruler than many of the actual archdevils, but prefer having someone less competent on the throne they're trying to steal

EDIT: WHOOPS, SWAPPED THE OPTIONS! MY BAD! It's fixed now though, sorry if you had to re-vote

[chairofchaos]

Letters of Love: Part I

Pairing: Azriel x Eris

Summary: “The love story of Eris and Azriel Vanserra is a tale for the ages. Their story is best told through their letters to one another and their family in the first year of their mated union. In this new newest edition, their letters are joined by excerpts of Eris Vanserra’s journal entries, as newly released by the Vanserra family.” - from the summary, “Letters of Love”

A work in which Eris and Azriel’s slightly tumultuous love story is explored through interviews, letters, and journal entries.

Rating: Explicit (not in this chapter so much, but in later parts definitely)

Word Count: 8.5k (roughly)

A/N: Got an idea, had a breakdown, bon appetit! We’ll call this my contribution to @azrisweek for Contact Day. If formatting is messy, it’s because I wrote and edited this entire thing on mobile in the span of 24 hours.

A HUGE thank you must be extended to @ninthcircleofprythian, to whom I dedicate this part of Letters of Love. This is entirely owed to her ideas. Thank you especially for accepting my all-caps freak outs that have spawned 8,500-odd words in the last 24 hours. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for your ideas, and your support of my insanity. Enjoy, have a gold star, and enjoy the extra thousand words of Eris’ journal at the end!

Letter from the Editor

Eris and Azriel Vanserra, the famed High Lords of Autumn, were not always the lockstep, solid foundations we now think them to be. This new edition of Letters of Love is the story of two great tacticians, strategists, and politicians from two previously antagonistic courts, and their journey from enmity to long-lasting marriage. The new inclusion of journal entries recently released by the Vanserra family adds a new dimension of personal thoughts by the Heir of Autumn.

The compilation of letters and anecdotes contained herein were requested by Eris Vanserra toward the end of his life. He wished to have something to pass on to his children as a reminder of the great love that he and Azriel had shared, and all that had transpired in the first year of their life together. It is no doubt that the volume was also of some comfort to him at the end of his life. The loss of his mate some hundred years earlier had significantly weakened the Vanserra heir. Their three children acknowledged after Eris’ passing that the loss of Azriel had been one from which their father never truly recovered.

Other volumes will contain details of the years following their mating ceremony and the immediate challenges they faced upon being mated, but it is this one that their eldest son Carmine assembled at his father’s request. The letters, generously provided by the courts of Autumn, Night, and Day, continue to paint a vivid picture of the High Lords in the tumultuous years following the war with Hybern, the birth of the Cauldron-born Archeron High Ladies and their own mates, and the defeat of Koschei. It was in that final conflict with Koschei that Eris Vanserra became High Lord of Autumn. Whether it was a blow dealt by the heir or by the death god himself, we will leave to you to decide, as its relevance to the subject matter contained within is only passing.

It is our hope that this new edition of Letters of Love is as enthralling as the ones which have come before. May your fires be warm, and your shadows a comfort.

***

Introduction from the First Edition

By Carmine Vanserra

Dear Reader,

Within the pages you hold are the proof of my fathers’ love for each other. Their life together was a happy one, though it was frequently troubled. It is no secret that for a great many centuries they were no more friendly than two bucks fighting over some perceived slight in the forest. The love that grew between them with maturity and age gave significant weight to that excellent phrase of Ms. Sellyn Drake: “The line between hated and love is a fine one, indeed.”

I would be remiss not to acknowledge the origins of this book. It was my father, Eris Vanserra, who requested its compilation just three years before his death. Greatly weakened by the loss of his mate some years before, he found himself more prone to reminiscing about the events of life. The love he had for my father Azriel was, to him, the greatest of all the happenings in a centuries-long life. It was their story which was told to my siblings and I at bedtime; their tales of misadventures and romance which in turn encouraged our own hearts to love.

Despite these joys, the truth must out. Their life was not always a happy one. This small volume tells but one fragment of their story. Perhaps other writers and historians will have opportunities to explore the full history of their life. It will not be me. This assignment, which my father set me to centuries ago, inspired a great many works and my own life’s work of the exploration of the true romances of history. It was this initial work which inspired the birth of my own publishing house, Leaf Bridge, and to write my many books. I would find it the greatest personal failing if, as I now depart from the ink scented office of my printing house, I did not publish the work which inspired this building and the work we do in it.

With the full consent and understanding of my siblings and other relevant parties, I am thankful to offer you at last the full story of my fathers’ love.

I must extend my gratitude to Lord Nyx Moonbeam, whose initial hesitation easily gave way to understanding and even joy upon hearing what we sought to do with this published edition. Nyx, my most beloved friend and confidant: as these letters and this story have graced our personal libraries and lives for centuries, I hope it will so grace the homes and hearths of your court. May it bring them the same joy and richness of life that it brought us.

I must thank also my cousin, Lady Flora, whose permission of access to the libraries and records of Day Court has been indispensable. I am especially sorry that your mother did not live to see the volume in its published format, as she was instrumental in the early research and saving of the letters contained within. It is very likely she saw me write this letter some time ago. Only she could know, so thank you, Aunt Elain.

One last thank you to the living must be extended to my eldest sister. Lady Arbora, without your arduous notes, Symphonia recordings, and truly obsessive nature for details of the smallest order, we would have no record of many of Papa’s thoughts and feelings of these early years. The transcripts of your thorough interrogations of both Father and Papa made it possible for this volume to tell a complete story using their words. Annoying as I may have found your obsession when we were young, I now realize that we all owe you the deepest debt of gratitude, and none more than I.

To the deceased: Aunt Feyre, Uncle Rhysand, Uncle Lucien, Aunt Elain, Aunt Nesta, Uncle Cassian, my brother, Ash, and to all of those whose names have been forgotten to time and ignorance, we the living offer you our heartfelt gratitude for all you made possible for Eris and Azriel.

Eris and Azriel, my fathers. To you, we offer the greatest debt of thanks. May this collection bring you honor and peace.

***

LETTERS OF LOVE

Day One

Letters:

Dear Lord Eris,

You are cordially invited to visit Rhysand and I at our home in Velaris this week-end. There will be a small tour of the city, if you wish it. Dinner will be provided. Please arrive at 4.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Feyre

***

Dear Lady Feyre,

I look forward to attending. What further details can you provide? And please, stop calling me Lord.

Sincerely,

Eris Vanserra

***

Transcript from Interview:

Arbora: What did Aunt Feyre say when you asked her that?

Eris (amused): Arbora, I have told this story before.

Arbora: It’s not funny, Father.

Azriel: It’s a little funny, sweetheart. Go on, Ere.

Eris: Well, she told me that dinner would be at 6 in the River House. It would be my first visit where I was allowed to see where your aunt, uncle, and cousin actually lived.

Arbora: That would be Uncle Rhysand, Aunt Feyre, and Nyx.

Eris: Yes.

Arbora: Anything else?

Eris: Yes. She let me know that Cassian and Nesta would be out of town, though Azriel would likely be in attendance along with their immediate family. She also provided some details about where exactly to winnow, though I can’t say I really remember those.

Azriel: You were to winnow to the outskirts of Velaris near the base of the House of Wind stairs. Rhys was supposed to bring you the rest of the way. I changed it to see how you would react.

Eris: I’m sure you’re right.

Together, Azriel (normally) & Arbora (mockingly): I usually am.

[all laugh]

Azriel [with affection]: Smartass.

Arbora: Sorry, Papa.

Eris: We love you. Though that’s all the time we have for tonight, I’m afraid.

[End Interview]

Day Two

Letters:

Dear Azriel,

I’m sorry for writing, though I will admit I was hesitant to wake you. My powers are drained, as are Rhys’. We’re fine here, but we’re going to need to do some more work in Windhaven before returning and I doubt we will be home in time for dinner. It’s unfortunate, since Eris is expected, but Rhys and I don’t want to share with him exactly what’s going on.

Will you take over the dinner? Nuala and Cerridwen have the meal fully in hand. He’s to winnow to the base of the House of Wind, though you could write to him with other arrangements. I also offered him a tour of the city, which I planned to do myself. Perhaps the Rainbow would be a safe bet?

I don’t want to put you under any stress. Delegate your other things, please. We’d like this relationship to continue between Night and Autumn, so consider this your top priority until the end of the night.

Thank you, Az.

Love,

Feyre

***

Dear Feyre,

Not to sound too much like your son, but, do I absolutely have to? Will it be just the two of us for dinner? You do remember the first time you saw Eris and I go at each other’s throats, yes?

Love (though I’m not happy about this),

Az

***

Dear Azriel,

You do sound remarkably like Nyx when you ask things like that. Though it could be said he sounds a bit like his father, though don’t tell Rhys I said that.

Yes, it will just be the two of you. Nesta and Cassian are still on the continent. Amren’s visit with Varian began today, and since they haven’t seen each other in a month, I would suggest avoiding the apartment at all costs. I’m not sure why you would care for her backup with Eris, but just in case you were desperate? Don’t go to her. Everyone else is here, as you know, and very needed. If it wasn’t for Eris coming, I’d have you here, too. As I said, Nuala and Cerridwen are taking care of the meal, so you’ll just need to handle the tour and making sure you’re back in time for dinner.

I remember that meeting well, thank you. Do me a favor and let’s try not to have a repeat. I promise you a huge favor when we get back. Name the price. I’ll even see if I can get Rhys to leave Nyx in your care for a day without interruption. Exercises in trust, and all. Speaking of, let’s attempt to not repeat history. Please keep in mind the importance of this visit for the relations between our court and Autumn.

With love, even when you aren’t happy with me,

Feyre

P.S. - Brother, I owe you. Though I can’t say I’ll hand over my son for a whole day, no matter how much I love and trust you. I love him more. I’d miss him. Be civil. Send us a report once it’s over. And whatever you do, don’t hit him first. - Rhys

***

Dear High Lord and High Lady,

It is with great pleasure- fuck it I’m not writing this formally. You both know I don’t like writing these. If you hate it, give the writing job to someone else. I’ll train them if it means I don’t have to do this anymore.

I changed the location of pickup to see how he would react. It didn’t seem to bother him one bit. Probably because he knew I was just trying to annoy him a bit. I picked him up at the border of Night instead, and teleported him to the River House. I figured we could start a tour from there.

From the River, we walked through all four palaces. I gave explanations of why they were called what they were, and their wares. He called the bridges “unique” and “beautiful,” and couldn’t seem to stop staring at the cliffs. He seemed almost enamored with them.

He had very little to say about Velaris otherwise, though he asked any shopkeeper we came across questions about their wares or other things to engage them in conversation. He almost seemed like he was genuinely curious. He bought one or two little things in the Rainbow.

Dinner was uncomfortable. With just the two of us, the River House dining room felt opulent, but we persisted. We kept conversation to a minimum. Nuala and Cerridwen excelled, as usual, and he spoke to them briefly following the meal, in which he sang their praises.

When dinner had finished, I offered him a look at the portraits in the main hall or the gardens outside. He chose portraits, so I let him wander the entryway. He stared at them. For some reason, mine seemed to be of particular interest. Feyre, it occurred to me that he may actually make a good subject for a portrait if relations are ever good enough and you could convince him to sit for you. My shadows had nothing to say in his favor or to his detriment, though they did seem to like swirling around his chair during dinner.

I took him outside the city again, and he winnowed home. Nothing notable. He seemed peaceful. He didn’t mention your absence- thank you for not leaving that explanation to me.

I’ll see you soon.

Azriel

***

Dear Azriel,

Thank you for the visit today. It was delightful to see the city in the evening, and to be able to walk its streets for the first time. Please extend my thanks to Rhysand and Feyre. Their home is lovely, fitting for a city like Velaris. It truly is, as my brother said, a Court of Dreams. I am grateful to have been able to experience all of its beauty in the evening light.

Thank you also for your courtesy in sharing the history of the the city and the previously secret history of the Night Court. It was a privilege to hear, especially since you clearly have extensive knowledge on the matter.

Sincerely,

Eris Vanserra

***

Lucien,

I have a matter of urgency to discuss with you. Please come tomorrow morning.

Eris

***

Eris,

My mate is days away from giving birth. Forgive me this frankness, but I’m not leaving her for a minute and I don’t want you here until this is all over. Write to me instead. Whatever it is can’t be that bad or you would have just showed up.

Lucien

***

Lucien,

I had a visit to Velaris yesterday. It went perfectly, from a diplomatic standpoint, though the only one present was Azriel. Everyone else had been called away to an emergency in Windhaven. I received no explanation for the extent, or the nature of the issue, but I believe it to be extensive. I was invited to explore the city. Azriel was beside me, or close behind, through the whole city. To his credit, he spoke well of the city and its history.

At one point, I was in awe of the cliffs and mountains- you’ve been there, so you know how impressive they are. The way the city is built into the hills is truly incredible. I was looking up while walking, and I tripped on a cobblestone. (I wouldn’t tell you that unless it was incredibly important, and trust that given the circumstances, you will never mention it again.) Azriel caught me by the wrist and the upper arm and hoisted me straight again.

I cannot believe what I am about to say, but I believe Azriel is my mate. The second his hand was on mine, I felt a tug in my sternum pulling me towards him. He gave no indication he felt it.

Luc, my hand burned when I pulled away from him. It was like his hand had lit me on fire- and not the kind that can be controlled, not even by us. I had to flex it to get the feeling to go away even a little. It grew in awkwardness from there. I had the good fortune to be able to hold my tongue, unlike you, so if I hid it well, he won’t know.

I do not know what to do. Please, I have never asked you for anything more valuable to me than this.

Eris

***

Eris,

Elain says to come over. We have tea. Apparently babies like drama too. Helion is aware you’re coming, but not why. Pack a bag so you can stay the night. And Elain says to be nice to me or she’ll tell you something horrible that may or may not be true.

Lucien

***

Luc,

I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please ask your mate to never do that again. The last horror was enough to keep me awake for two days.

Eris

Transcript from Interview:

Azriel: The shadows brought me the letter. At the time, the standard was for one or two of them to place letters on the counter for me to deal with them. But this one, not marked as urgent or hasty, arrived in the morning the day after Fath - I mean, Eris, had visited Night.

The shadows had brought me his letter from the night before as well. I chalked it up to it being a professional correspondence and after reading it, sent it to Rhys and Feyre to pass on his gratitude at their hospitality and the loveliness of their home. The shadows did seem uncharacteristically eager.

[End Interview]

Day Three

Letters, Part I:

Dear Azriel,

You are invited to join me in Autumn this afternoon at 3 for a tour of my orchard, with dinner to follow. The orchard is the source of the fruits for the cider you enjoyed on your last visit. I thought you may enjoy seeing it, and wanted to return the hospitality you offered me in Velaris.

Please let me know if you are able to come.

Sincerely,

Eris Vanserra

***

Dear Eris,

Thank you for the invitation. I will come.

Sincerely,

Azriel

***

Rhys,

I’ve been invited to Autumn for a tour of Eris’ orchard. I accepted because I knew you would tell me to. I’ll be gone this evening.

Azriel

***

Azriel,

Good. Keep us updated. And please wear something nicer than leathers.

Rhys

***

Rhys,

I have just returned from Autumn. You’ll be pleased to know I wore sensible boots with a nicer pair of pants and a crisp white shirt. Not that it really matters.

I have no words for what happened. Please understand this is only being sent to you because I may have royally fucked up and wanted you to know in case it affects court relations.

I went to join Eris for the tour of the orchard. It was exceptional. Beautiful. Well organized. We were walking side by side down the rows. Eris was explaining the trees, the cultivation of their apples, and the importance of keeping the varieties separated. We moved into a neighboring field with smaller trees, and the rows were closer together. It got so narrow I moved to let Eris walk in front and his hand brushed mine. Well, really his signet ring brushed my hand, and I jolted and almost fell into one of the trees.

Rhys. I don’t even know what to say but… it felt good. It felt like warmth wrapped around my heart and PULLED. I don’t know how else to explain it. I didn’t know what to do. I balked and immediately shot into the air then let my shadows carry me back here. I don’t think I know what to do. Fuck, I said I wanted a mating bond. This feels like a cruel joke.

But what if there’s a reason? What if it’s good? What if I just ran and fucked things up so badly that he never wants to speak to me again? I don’t even know if he noticed what made me run- he didn’t look surprised. He just looked stoic, even as he watched me fly away.

What the fuck do I do? Why HIM? I don’t know where to go from here. I’m sorry if this creates problems for you.

Azriel

***

Azriel,

Unfortunately, you have to go fix this. I don’t know what he felt, whether he felt it or not. I care, but as High Lord, you know I can’t put this over the court relations. You abruptly leaving a diplomatic exchange is something I can’t explain away or excuse. Go fix it. Tomorrow at the latest. We’ve spent years working with Eris in order to improve our relations. I’m sorry, Azriel, but I cannot allow this, no matter how personal, to interfere with that tenuous bond.

Rhys

***

Azriel,

Rhys shared your letter with me. I helped him write his letter, but wanted to add a few things. Do what he said though. I agree we need this connection of courts. You will need to address this.

To the personal aspect: I won’t say congratulations, though I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. Nesta is always commenting on how the line between love and hate is razor thin or something of that nature. I think it’s a quote from one of her books. It’s proved to be true a few times, I think.

Azriel, you have to try. If the Cauldron thinks Eris is the best one for you, you owe it to yourself to try. You’ve frequently noted to Rhys and I how happy we all are. Offer yourself that same chance. If you don’t try, you will likely come to regret it. I hope you will go to him, not just to fix things for us, but to see for yourself if there is the chance of affection and love.

All my love,

Feyre

***

Feyre,

Tell Rhys I’ll go. After all the things I’ve said to Eris, how could he love me? How could he forgive me that? I cannot see how it would be possible. I will fix what I can. I also won’t pretend to have any hope here.

Azriel

***

Azriel,

You do remember how my courtship with Rhys started? I despised him. I hit him over the head with a shoe. He had done things with and to me under the mountain that he regretted deeply. We got over it. If we could, so can you two. I also notice that you are concerned only with what you have done, not what Eris has done to you. From my understanding, your relationship to this point has been equally antagonistic. I wonder if he may be having the same self-deprecating thoughts?

Feyre

***

Feyre,

Yes, I remember. But throwing a shoe at someone is a little different than telling someone you have proof of his efforts to kill his father and you won’t hesitate to use it if it means Beron removes Eris from the equation. Not to mention the knowledge that I threatened him with exposing his mother’s affair with Helion if he stepped out of line not long after that.There’s no coming back from something like that.

Azriel

***

Az,

All you can do is try. Go. Fix it. You can do this.

Feyre

***

Lucien,

He found out. We were walking to the dinner table- I hadn’t mentioned the bond yet, or that we’d eat dinner in the orchard. Our hands brushed and it must have snapped for him. He nearly took out one of the trees. I think if he hadn’t stabilized himself with his wings he would have.

He flew away. I’ve never seen such a look of panic on his face. One or two of his shadows lingered reluctantly- I wonder what they know, if their will is separate from their master’s or if there was some part of him that wanted to stay and that will kept them there a moment or two longer. He glanced over his shoulder as he left. I couldn’t even see his face.

Regardless, he is gone. I don’t expect him back. I can’t push him to return. I can’t imagine after these years of enmity that he would bother. I can’t even blame him for it. We’ve said despicable things to one another. I’ve threatened his family more times than I can count. I’ve dressed his brothers down publicly, decade after decade, sometimes to their faces, sometimes behind their backs. It’s a tenuous starting point for even court relations, let alone a mating bond.

I cannot imagine that this would work.

Eris

***

Eris,

Elain says you deserve to try. I am inclined to agree. You meant to talk to him, so invite him, clearly this time. Clear intentions. You do still have dinner on the table, don’t you? You never ate well when you were nervous.

Lucien

***

Lucien (and Elain, apparently),

I suppose it can’t hurt. He’ll probably show up at some point anyways. Might as well try to temper the reaction however I can.

Eris

***

Dear Azriel,

I am writing to inform you that I was aware of the revelation you have just experienced. The bond snapped for me yesterday when you kept me from falling in Velaris. I wasn’t sure how you would react, or if there was any possibility of affection. I also knew it would be easier for you to leave from here, as you just did, than it would be for me to walk out of Night without you.

If you would like to discuss this, I will be in the orchard. I had planned to share what I knew with you at dinner, and had dinner waiting on the table here in the orchard. It is just a few rows away from where we were. If you would like to join me to discuss this, I will be here until midnight. If you decide to join me some other day, please write first. I’d prefer to have this conversation in private, to allow us to speak freely without concern of courts or politic.

If I may be so bold, I hope you will come.

Yours,

Eris

Entry from the Journal of Eris Vanserra:

He left. I hadn’t realized how hopeful I was until he was flying away. I couldn’t see his face except in that one last glance over his shoulder- not granting me even one last look at the beauty contained within. It was too much to hope for. I suppose 24 hours of hope is all I could have hoped for. I’m sitting at the table now, wishing he was across from me. Lucien was right. I haven’t touched a bite. I feel too sick to even try.

It was foolish of me to dream of him last night. I stood on the balcony before I even retired, thinking of the way he had looked at me before he realized. Did he notice the unguarded open stares I couldn’t help but look at him with?

I can’t say it hadn’t occurred to me before: the way he might look leaning in to kiss me, the way he would have held me. It is not a possibility I had even considered until last night.

Last night, walking in Velaris, it was all I could do to focus on the people around us, the city noises. He was beside me, calm and less menacing than usual. He was a good guide. He knew the answers to every question I had. But the bond snapped and I found that I wasn’t surprised at all. I hadn’t realized how much affection had grown on my part in these last years, how much I admired the way he is.

If walking around Velaris was hard, dinner was agony. I could look across the table and see him, see his shadows swirling around him. I could feel them watching me, feel them darting around my chair as if they were nervous to get too close. But Azriel seemed calm, unaffected. He hadn’t seemed to notice any change in me.

Lucien convinced me to invite him today. I agreed. I’m going to kill my brother for that. What an idiotic idea. Here I am, alone.

The shadows lingered as Azriel left. They curled in my hair and around my wrists and ankles, and brushed against my cheek. They had never been so brazen with me. They were cool, like little brushes of a breeze against my skin. I can’t bear it. I couldn’t bear it when they disappeared with him. It was a loss I didn’t expect. It hurt more than I have the words for, losing that lingering fragment of him.

I was going to tell him. I didn’t know what else to do. So I’m sitting here at the table where I had hoped to confess. If I had held it in I could imagine the rage he would fly into when he found out. It would not have helped for there to be secrets. Not about this. This table, this entire meal is pointless without him here. It’s no use pretending I’m not breaking at this loss of a chance. The bond is eerily still. I do not dare touch it in case it shatters to pieces.

I will wait. Just like I said. Likely for longer than I said. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to let this go. I just hope he will forgive me for loving-

Transcript from Interview:

Azriel: The note he sent me made it easier to go back. I felt better knowing he knew. Somehow that made it easier than if I had had to break the news to him myself. I didn’t hesitate long after getting it. It was probably half an hour before I got the courage to show up. It was nearing sundown and I didn’t want him to give up.

Arbora: How did you feel?

Azriel: Anxious. Mostly because it could go so sideways for so many reasons. I didn’t know what to expect.

Arbora: Walk me through the evening.

Azriel: I teleported to where I had left from. Since I was right back where I was before, I just had to follow Eris’ footprints through the trees to find where he was. He was sitting with his back to me, scribbling furiously in his journal. I didn’t know that at the time, of course. But I noticed he was writing like it would kill him if he didn’t.

It wasn’t easy to walk up to him. The second he heard me he slammed the journal shut and stood. I don’t think I had ever seen him this disheveled. His hair was unbound, and he looked shocked I had even come.

Arbora: Who spoke first?

Azriel: He did. I didn’t know what to say. He seemed to regain some control and he asked me to sit. I think of the two of us, he was more worried about the personal. I had come with the intention to repair court bonds. He didn’t seem to care about that as much as the personal.

Arbora: How did the conversation go?

Azriel: I think he started. He told me how he had realized. I interjected to talk about-

Arbora: [interjecting] Papa. Details, please.

Azriel: Right. Sorry, sweetheart. [sighs] He explained the way the bond had snapped when I had grabbed him to keep him from falling. He told me he knew it was a surprise, but that he didn’t mind. He started to let me know he didn’t expect anything from me but that he wanted to be clear he was open to exploring it and I just… exploded a little. He seemed too calm, too steady. It was as though he was suppressing everything just to control what he could. It unsettled me.

I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem interested in talking about what this might mean for his court, and I told him so. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look he gave me. He hadn’t met my eyes since he started talking, and in hindsight, I think he was probably fidgeting with his jacket cuffs under the table. You know how he does that in meetings when he’s anxious.

But he looked at me, really looked at me. He paused, and just said, “You cannot expect me to put my court first in this conversation. Not when you’re sitting in front of me. Not when I haven’t breathed easily since yesterday.”

It… [lengthy pause] It broke me, a little bit. He had never been so open, so directive in such a vulnerable way. It shook me. I don’t think the night would have gone the way it did if we hadn’t had that moment.

Arbora (quietly): Keep going.

Azriel: He waited while I gathered some thoughts and pieced together a sentence or two, telling him I was sorry I had left the way I did. That I was surprised, and alarmed. I told him what Rhys had said, that I had to come back to mend things between the courts, to repair anything that had been broken. And when I saw how it seemed to hurt him, this implication that I was only there to fix things, I admitted that I had wanted Rhys to force me back.

It was true. I did. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but if Rhys hadn’t have forced me back I would have run and kept running. But I admitted it to Eris. Somehow it was easier to admit to him than to myself, and to tell him how it scared me because I recognized what a monumental thing this was. It must have been the right thing to say, because he looked more relieved than hurt after that.

He asked me frankly if I wanted the bond. I told him honestly that I thought I did, but also that I was nervous about what it may mean. I asked him if he wanted it, and he just pursed his lips and looked away. I waited him out. I thought it was the only way he would answer me. But he didn’t, verbally.

Instead, he shoved about a million emotions down the bond- relief, anger, pain, desperation, sadness. So much sadness. It wasn’t mournful, it was more… desperate. He’ll hate that I said it that way, but that’s what it felt like to me. It was agonizing, to sit there, feeling what he was feeling. I was taken aback by the strength of his emotions, and found my own deepening in kind.

“I want this. I want you,” he finally said. His voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear him.

“Are you certain?” I asked him. He said he did, and I think I nodded in response. Your father hardly told me anything after that. He asked me if I was willing to try, to give it a shot. Then he offered me dinner.

I didn’t think about it before accepting. I didn’t even consider that this meal could be acceptance of the bond. I’ve wondered since if he knew what he was doing. He insists he didn’t, but I am not entirely sure I believe him.

Arbora: Would that be something he would have done?

Azriel: It’s not out of the question. I’m sure you’ve noticed your father is a tricky male, Arbora. It’s one of the things I continue to be surprised by- and amused. Make no mistake, I love his trickery. It’s endearing. It always has been, if I am truthful. Something about the way he schemed to make his court a better place…

Anyway, his argument is usually that since he didn’t make the food and he didn’t intend it at the beginning that this would be food to offer as an offer to accept the mating bond that he didn’t even consider what might happen, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have at least hoped.

Arbora: How did you feel when you realized?

Azriel: I felt peaceful. I think that’s what made me realize most of all, that he seemed pleased but surprised, and nervous about what I would say. I just felt peace. It was as though I knew it was right, even in the face of all the challenges it might present.

There’s no denying I’d considered what he would be like before. You’re an adult, I’m going to say this even though it’s a bit… risqué. But I’d considered what it would be like to bed him. And there was always more to that than just fantasy.

Arbora (sarcastically): Thanks for that.

Azriel: No problem. I’ll spare you the details. The realization was like making a breakthrough in training- the way you’ve fought to gain a skill, and then all at once, it clicks and you realize you can do it. It was like that. I didn’t see my feelings until all at once, they were there, big and powerful.

Arbora: Following that realization, what did you do?

Azriel: Arbora, after you just thanked me for holding details you may wish to rephrase that question.

Arbora: Ah- Okay. Um.

Azriel: Don’t worry. I’m teasing. We went to Eris’ private residence. He winnowed us. We took a couple of minutes to just let the people we needed to talk to know that we would be unavailable for the next few days. And we talked. A lot. Admittedly, probably more than most newly mated couples. Though I assume most of them would have had head conversations before hand.

Arbora: What did you talk about?

Azriel: The past. We discussed the things we had said to one another. The insults we had traded and threats we made. We also did typical newly-mated things. Again, I won’t lie to you. You asked for unabridged honesty. So we rotated between bed and living room, dining room for brief meals before sitting on the couch and talking, then moving back to the bedroom. It was six days of torture, because we had so much to talk about but it wasn’t what we really wanted to be talking about or doing, but it was things we had to get out of the way first. We wanted to enjoy it.

Arbora: Can you expand on that?

Azriel: Well, the things we talked about were unpleasant. They were emotional. Highly charged. Occasionally, Eris would step out for an hour, though he swore it was the last thing he wanted to do. With Lucien unavailable to help, he wanted to keep things under control in the court and since he hadn’t given the full reason for his absence, he didn’t want to draw too much attention, so there were a few meetings he said he absolutely couldn’t miss. It was a bit brutal.

Arbora: What was the reasoning behind keeping it quiet?

Azriel: I was spymaster of Night Court. He was High Lord of Autumn, and in the grand scheme of things, relatively recently crowned. Night and Autumn historically did not have a good relationship, and our immediate families had been the poster child for that dysfunction. It could have been a disaster if we had publicly stepped out in those first few months.

Arbora: How did your families take it?

[End Interview]

Letters, Part II:

Feyre,

I’m going to ask you to share this with Rhys. I can’t do it myself. I don’t know how to explain the events of the last 4 hours.

I’m mated to Eris. It was quick, and sudden. I’m happy about it. I need a few days. I won’t disclose anything that could put Night in danger- I hope you both know I would never do that. I’m sure he’ll be equally careful with Autumn. And we’ll need to talk about all of this. I know it complicates things. I’m sorry about that. But I can’t say I’m sorry we’re mated. It wouldn’t be true.

Thank you, and Rhys, for pushing me to come. I’m very grateful that you did.

Love,

Azriel

***

Azriel,

Well. I suppose now I can say: Congratulations! I’m glad you’re happy. I’ll let Rhys write you himself once I tell him. He’s with Cassian now. I’m assuming you’ll want to tell Cassian yourself, so I won’t trouble you with that.

Enjoy your time. I’ll make sure no one bothers you. And say hello to Eris for me.

Love,

Feyre

***

Cassian,

I wanted you to hear it from me. I’d appreciate it if this could stay between us- Rhys and Feyre know, and you can tell Nesta once she promises not to tell the other Valkyries.

I’m mated. It was almost as much a surprise to me as I’m sure it will be to you. My mate is Eris. Yes, that Eris. Yes, I am aware that he is High Lord of Autumn, and that we have had several very public fights. Yes, I do remember what Helion said about “being his new fantasy” and I also remember you teasing me about it afterwards.

I am sure you have about as many questions as I do right now, so let’s just leave it at that for now. I’ll be gone for the next few days. When I come home, I’ll answer as many questions as you want.

Azriel

***

Lucien,

Thank you for your advice these last few days. I’m going to take a few days off. Write if Elain has the baby. I’ll be otherwise occupied, but I’ll come when I can. Azriel and I will be at the Acorn in case of emergencies, but if anyone asks, you have no idea where I am.

Details to follow.

Eris

***

Dear Eris,

You forgot to include me in the salutation again. Don’t forget, I see things you don’t. It’s your duty as my brother-in-law to keep me informed, especially while I’m on bed rest. It doesn’t matter how much I see, I still want to hear every detail from you when you two are done with your little getaway. How you ended up going from pining agony (don’t bother pretending otherwise) to very near mated bliss in three days will be a tale for the ages. And a vespertine confession of feelings? Very romantic.

Lucien says congratulations. I’m sure he’ll write later. Feel free to ignore him. It can be his turn to be ignored, for once. He’s running himself to the ground trying to keep me comfortable when all I really want is to have him next to me until I have this baby. Anyways, tell Azriel we say hello. You’ll have to come for dinner soon and introduce him to the baby. I’m sure he or she will be here by the time you two can make it to us.

Affectionately,

Elain

***

Dear Elain,

I’m assuming you’ll have heard from Lucien, but if you have no idea what I’m talking about, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious.

Love,

Feyre

***

Dear Feyre,

Oh I know very well what you’re talking about. Not to mention, I knew before they did. Pesky stubborn males. I told you to keep Cassian and Nesta away. Aren’t you glad you did?

Elain

***

My tricky sister,

You’re just as bad as them when it comes to being pesky and stubborn. Don’t forget the promises you made me in order to convince me to keep C & N away. Thought I can’t say I’m disappointed with the result. Azriel wrote me- he seems glad.

Love,

Feyre

***

My equally tricky sister,

I won’t forget my promise. You were always going to be a godmother, though, I don’t know why you didn’t consider that I would make you one in the first place. Of course, with Azriel now mated to Eris, the godfather is now up for debate…it might please Lucien for his brother to be involved. (Kidding. That was already decided, too. It’ll just be one more way to keep Eris close and involve him in the family. Be happy. And don’t tell Rhys yet.)

Azriel is more grateful than he has likely let on. Don’t bug him too much if you can help it, and once your powers are recovered, don’t let Rhys egg him on.

Love you more,

Elain

Entry from the Journal of Eris Vanserra:

My god, he is a good lover.

***

Day three since we were mated. I love him. I love him so much. It’s been agonizing, and beautiful. I wish I had known how much I would feel from him down the bond. The bond is alive. It’s spinning, twining us closer at every moment. I told him I had a meeting, which is true. I just am taking ten extra minutes to write, to remember this feeling.

Azriel is everything I hoped my mate would be. Male, for one. But he’s gentle. He’s kind. He’s passionate about his family, and his court. He’s protective of them, too, and already that protectiveness has extended to me.

I went to get a new glass of water last night after he had fallen asleep, and when I turned from the sink, he was standing in the doorway looking concerned as he scanned the room.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His brows were furrowed, and I found myself admiring the wrinkle that made between them. When I nodded, he relaxed, but huffed grumpily. “I was worried when you were gone,” he admitted. He crossed to hold me, pulling me against his bare chest. Azriel apparently likes to be naked. A lot. I don’t mind. Not at all.

I told him I was fine and that I was sorry to have worried him. He just tangled his hands in my hair and pulled my head from his shoulder to kiss me. And what a kiss it was: firm, gentle. Teasing, then sweet. This male is addictive. He should be illegal. And he’s mine. My mate. My love.

I told him yesterday that I had been in love with him for longer than I could say. He admitted he hadn’t acknowledged it until the bond snapped, but part of the reason he ran was because it was forcing him to confront things he already knew. He apologized extensively for the threats, but seemed even more apologetic about the antagonism he had displayed. He blamed it on an abundance of feelings he didn’t know what to do with. I would say that it was a bad excuse, but since it’s the only one I can think of to excuse my own behavior, I said nothing. We always did rile each other more than anyone else.

Still, each conversation, each apology, each remembrance of ways we had wronged each other brought up things we weren’t proud of, and with it, floods of emotions we had to handle. I don’t think either of us were expecting to burst into tears when Azriel confessed how a few months ago, he had started having nightmares about the way he threatened me at that High Lords’ meeting and the look I had in my eyes- “as though you expected it. As if you thought you deserved it,” he said.

We’re falling apart a little bit. But we’re also putting each other back together. That’s not to say I don’t feel awkward half the time. I don’t know him, not really. Every kiss, every whisper of affection comes with the knowledge that I don’t know what his favorite color is (it’s yellow) or that I didn’t even know until this morning that his mother was alive and a part of his life. He wrote her a letter, telling her he would come visit in a couple of weeks. He didn’t mention whether he wanted me to come with him, or if Rhys would even allow me into Night. Frankly, I wouldn’t know if Azriel even knows if he wants me there.

Still, every kiss… When I winnowed us here two days ago, I winnowed us to the outskirts of the Acorn house lawn. He looked at it and understanding rang in his eyes: this was a place I kept quiet. His wings tucked tight into his back as he looked at me, waiting for me to lead. So I did, walking across the lawn as leaves crunched beneath our feet, disturbing the serene silence of our stowaway.

We reached the door, and I found him hovering over my shoulder as I opened the door.

He choked my name, and I spun, worried someone was there, that we would be disturbed before we had even had the chance to know each other. Azriel was looking at me, heat in his eyes. His jaw twitched, and he opened his mouth to say something before slamming it shut again. He looked so beautiful- the darkness of night falling around him, the last hints of light peeking through the leaves and the membranes of his wings.

How had I never noticed how beautiful his wings were? I stared at him openly, admiring him, and found myself thankful for the fact that this male stood with me, on the doorstep of my home. I almost said so, but he moved first.

His hands cradled my head so gently I wondered if he was scared of breaking me, and then he kissed me. His hands didn’t stray as he tilted my head to deepen our kiss, guiding me backwards with little pushes of his chest against my hands (I couldn’t help but let them wander- how he kept it together I have no idea) until we were inside. He pulled back, wild hazel eyes darting between mine as he reached back to close the door without even looking.

I don’t know if it’s the wings that make him so aware of his surroundings. Regardless, his eyes didn’t even leave mine. “May I?” He asked softly. It took me a solid ten seconds to realize his hand had come to settle over the buttons of my shirt. I nodded silently, and he lost no time in removing it, kissing me with renewed vigor.

I could hardly breathe, finding myself completely at a loss for words. Simply kissing him is addictive, but this complete contact, the sounds he made, the slow stroke of his hands down my sides was taking all I had to not collapse completely into him. The loss of his lips from mine was like losing air, like drowning in need. All the while, his desire, his love, poured down the bond. When he pulled my shirt all the way off I nearly died at the way his eyes roamed over me. He reached for my hands, stilling their wandering over his shoulders and back.

His groan and the way he pulled me back into him made me nearly feral, and I didn’t wait for him to protest before I made easy work of removing his shirt. I am sure I was less than gentle. He didn’t seem to care.

And he is a good kisser, but like I said yesterday… he’s a damn good lover.