#i don't want to be hater but my lord

[lisa-and-shadow]

Have you ever read a book and felt dumber afterward? Are you a monsterfucker? Then, do I have the book review for you.

A werewolf/vampire/kraken/dragon with anger issues and no sense of boundaries chases his mate (a Sookie Stackhouse ripoff) in Honeysuckles by January Rayne.

I forgot to mention hybrid boy rips out no less than 5 men's hearts in defense of his beloved mate. But their blood tasted yucky, and hers was sweet. Like Sookie Stackhouse.

[galadriel-blue]

Why is the TROP fandom so toxic all of the sudden?

(Rant in the tags and spoilers for S2 E7 of TROP)

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Kataang || Survivor

[sysig]

Some days you just have to scribble (Patreon)

[welcome-home-official]

RE8 has, so far, been the only fandom in which the *fandom* was so bad that it drove me away.

[chewysgummies]

Dead ass, just thought about killbot 86 & sharp sight having a couple goals where they both hate on the main protagonist duo💖✨

[lambilegs]

✮🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺✮

striking a deal (sevika x reader)

contains: sevika being a jackass (what's new tho I still love her), gambling, reader sort of being a hater against gambling due to the negative impacts its had on their friend, enemies-with-a-bit-of-desire sort of vibe going on, reader is called a "girlfriend," very sfw, not much explicit romance and just a bit of flirting + attraction

a/n: hiii pookies so this is my first fic for miss sevika!! I hope it's accurate to her character and you all enjoy <33 would love to hear what y'all think hehe

art: four gentlemen of high rank playing primero

✮🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺✮

"hey, do you know where I can find sevika?" you tentatively ask the bartender. he's some nervous looking kid who's probably going to quit after two weeks of witnessing the shit show that is the last drop since vander was killed.

not that you can blame him. you rarely frequent this part of the undercity, avoiding it for both the sake of safety and your own sense of sanity. you couldn't stand half the crap that went down here -- all the drunken fights, the sloshing of alcohol spilling and soaking through nearly every visitor's clothes, the lewd public displays that sent your face burning and ducking down -- and, of course, the gambling.

the damn gambling you had been imploring your friend, zafar, to put aside for almost half a year now. ever since he had lost his younger sister to an "intervention" enforcers had made at a party a year ago, every bad habit of his that had once been a small spring in the ground, roots shallow, had blossomed into a rotten, ugly plant that had spread faster than the blink of an eye could capture. you tried to be there for him, you did, but you also had your own family to take care of, and with his new friends being nothing but a bunch of enablers, he had now landed himself into a world of debt.

why, you ask? he had made the stupid decision to play with one of silco's little henchmen, sevika, whose reputation at cards is so notorious that even you've heard of it from your dinky little corner, far away from this place. you had heard rumours of her, some admiring, others downright terrifying. her help in smuggling shimmer, the ass-whooping she did for silco, how she was a constant presence when it came to the drug lord. that was enough to drain you of any admiration you could've beheld for such a strong woman. you had seen what shimmer did, the power it had in crumbling people's bodies, mental states, and their ability to keep living. you don't approve of anyone who's involved in the horrors of it.

the only reason you're here now is because zafar came to you sobbing this morning, grief heavy in his eyes over the money he had lost. he claimed sevika cheated it out of him, and while you still aren't sure as to how true that is, you'd at least try to set the record straight with her. you want to do something, anything, for standing around and watching zafar self-destruct no longer feels like a valid option. you promised him you'd try to see if you could convince her to return his money, under the condition of him avoiding gambling as best as he could and beginning to work part-time at the shop where you worked so he could have a more reliable source of income.

you can only hope this shitty plan will be in your favour. already, your stomach is tightening with anxiety, the knot circling and circling to bulge against your gut and make you slightly nauseated. but, you try to, at least physically, keep your cool, schooling your features to be calm, levelled and devoid of any jitters or twitches.

the bartender cocks his head to a dark corner near the jukebox. "right there. why, you've got business with her?"

a spring of irritation flickers through you at his prodding. the less he knows, the better. "in a way." you nod your thanks, then make your way to her.

you had seen flashes of sevika before. rallies, protests, gang fights. a blur of dark hair, a murky red cape and swinging fists. that's all she ever was to you. so, now, to behold her in her full state, feels... intimidating, to say the least. she carries herself as though the rickety wooden boards and worn out hinges of this place are her prized palace and she's the hailing king, rightfully seated on her throne. her dark lips are twisted into a leering smirk, haughtily bringing her cigar to them and taking a prideful puff from it. you swallow hard. you're definitely out of your league.

you linger nearby, watching through the crowd and awaiting an opportunity to approach her. when the men around her slam their palms down on the shared table, groaning and shutting their eyes in clear loss, her arm tossing towards them cockily, you stiffen up. you have an opening.

as the losers begin to file away, shoulders slumped in defeat, you can't help but feel a twinge of pity for them. everyone in this city struggles, one way or another. to have those struggles tied off with a loss in poker is a downright cursed fate. you try not to meet their eyes, sliding through the sweaty bodies until you reach her table.

you pause in front of her, hands twiddling as she collects the coins. you wait for her to look up, and when a few seconds pass and no such thing happens, you clear your throat.

eyes still casted onto the table, she speaks. her voice is like sand that's fallen through the surface of the ocean, rough and textured, impossibly deep and smooth. "you waited your turn long enough. what do you want?"

you flinch. "waited my turn?"

she tilts her head in the direction you came from. "you were lurking there. just watching, or is there something you need?"

jesus, and here you had thought you were at least a bit subtle. "oh, I--"

"didn't think I'd notice you?" she scoffs, scooping up the coins and pouring them into a small sack. "you almost fell head-first when bunny-face bumped into you."

your eye nearly twitches. "okay, well, good observation, I guess." honestly, it's impressive. you had expected her to be all brawn, no brain. "I'm here to talk to you about something."

her eyes finally meet yours. they're nearly silver, a dark grey that flashes under the colourful lights. her gaze is piercing, punctuated all the more by her dark eyebrows that are drawn in curiosity. "make it quick."

that's all you need. "okay, well, my friend, zafar, gambled with you last night."

"okay."

"well, you won, and took a bunch of his money." you wobble on your feet, hesitation seizing at you due to the accusation you're about to lay out. she could probably snap your neck in less than a millisecond. you've heard of her ability to totally crush any enemy designated to her by silco. definitely not a person whose bad side you want to get on. hopefully, nothing of the sort will happen if you express yourself in enough of a civilized way. "he, I don't know if it's true, but he says you cheated." you avert your eyes, the hand in your pocket gripping tightly onto the handle of your dagger. you haven't had to use it, not yet, at least, but in the undercity, it's better to be safe than sorry. and, frankly, you're expecting the worse from her.

which is why you nearly flinch when the corner of her lip twists up, and she says, "a common scapegoat for losers."

protectiveness immediately kicks in, searing through your body and urging you through your fear. you know it's hypocritical, considering you, too, don't fully believe him. but, still, you at least know his character, whereas she's just riding off her assumptions. "he could just as well be telling the truth."

"oh, yeah? is that why he sent his little girlfriend to save his ass?"

gross. the insinuation feels nearly as offensive as her insults towards him. "I'm not his girlfriend. and I volunteered to come here myself."

her eyes flicker up to you, and you rear back when they linger on your face, skimming over your features before settling back down to the table. "and while that's nice, and well, pretty stupid of you, I didn't do any cheating. anything he lost was because he couldn't play his hand well."

you grit your teeth together. "I'm not stupid. I just came here for a friend."

"a friend who clearly is a sloppy poker player and likely to lose to anyone who has the playing ability of a child." she snickers, and you catch sight of the split between her two front teeth, a little gap protruding. you force yourself to meet her eyes. the last thing you'd want is for her to catch you staring at her mouth.

what's worse is that you can't even argue back with her on this. for all you know, zafar very well may be a shit player. probably is, in all honesty. it wouldn't surprise you -- he always was impulsive as hell, and you wouldn't bat an eye to discover that challenging sevika had been an in-the-moment decision of his. but, you know what he's been through. you know how down in the dumps he is financially, and just how desperate he's gotten. his mourning has only made it worse.

"okay, well," you trail off, not really knowing where to continue. you didn't really lay a plan for yourself, and now that she's swiftly shut you down in a manner which you have no rebuttals for, you're not sure how to proceed.

"was that all?"

"no." you force your shoulders to straighten, hoping you sound somewhat firm, maybe even dignified. "is there any way you can return his money? he's been through a lot this year, and--"

she cuts you off with a bark of laughter, the raspy noise of it harsh and grating to your ears. the anger it's stirring in you probably isn't helping either. "okay. listen, friend of...?"

deadpan, you respond, "zafar."

she nods. "yeah, whatever his name is. this game comes with risks, and one of them is losing all your shit if you play with no tact."

you suck in a sharp breath at the condescension in her tone. "I'm well aware of that. but, listen, he's had a hard time of it lately, and--"

"and what? we've all had a hard time of it lately. if he chose to put his life's worth on the table, that isn't my problem."

"I'm not saying it is, but c'mon, can't you have a little empathy now and return his money?" you stick an incredulous finger at the table. "you have enough as is! no need to drain every zaunite of their hard-earned money before you're satisfied."

her eyes flutter in what seems to be exasperation, but you firmly planted, both on your feet and in your stance. physically, you can't do shit against this mass of muscle. but, maybe, just maybe, you can verbally get somewhere.

she stares up at you, elbows propped on her knees. "if it's so hard-earned, why did your friend gamble it away? are you asking me to return someone's money because they were an idiot?"

frustration begins to gnaw at your stomach, a burning sensation swarming through your insides and making you tense up. "I'm telling you, he's not in his right mind right now. things have happened in his family lately, and it's been hard for him."

"are you forgetting where you live? things happen in every family here. being smart is how you survive. if your friend can't do that..." she shrugs, continuing to sweep the coins into the opening of the sack. "then, that's not my problem."

"being a decent person helps in surviving in this place, too. being there for each other and our community. don't you care about that?"

her movements halt for a second, eyes flicking between you and the table. you nearly crack a grin and do a little rejoicing dance. bingo.

you add a sticky sweet tone to your voice, pleading and coaxing. you've heard she frequents babette's brothel, and if that's any indication about where her romantic interests lie, maybe you'll be able to woe her into complacency. "c'mon, I promise, he'll never gamble with you again, and if he does, take anything and keep it. but, please, just this one time, help him out, hm? do it for him, do it for your people."

her face, which was stoic only moments ago, shatters into a loud round of laughter, her palm smacking against her knee. "I gotta hand it to you, the 'for your people' thing was a nice touch." she stands up, and you try not to blink too hard at the sight of her towering over you. jesus, she's gigantic. no wonder people are scared shitless of her. no wonder you were scared shitless of her. "now, be honest. was the money yours? boyfriend left you and stole from the cookie jar? told you you had to come and get it back yourself?"

the more she talks, the more you get the sense that to her, this conversation is simply something to toy with, and just engage with as a playful little pastime. it only causes more anger to ooze within you, fiery and hot within your guts, like lava. this isn't a game. this is about people's lives, people's financial sustenance. she must earn a decent amount of time for her work for silco, and yet here she is, milking the people of zaun who don't know any better or who are too entrenched in their habits to put a stop to their gambling.

you want to make a jab at her that's as harsh as the blow to your ego was. it might risk you a limb, but you're praying the surprising amount of calm she's shown so far is a sign that your safety is secure. "you know what? I was stupid for coming here in the first place. to think one of silco's little servants would actually have a moral compass."

unfortunately, her irritatingly cool collection not only keeps your physical wellbeing in check, but does the complete opposite to your pride. for all she does is stare down at you, the long, blue scar seeping through her cheek curling as she chuckles, the noise husky and rough, like crushed velvet. "ouch. good one. anyone else might've gotten offended by that." her stormy eyes skip to your lips for a split second. "quite the mouth you have on you."

what the fuck is that supposed to mean? is that a pass or a genuine comment on your temper, which is very much flaring up? either way, you're determined to try harder to goad her. "yeah, well, I'm sure it has no impact on you, right? after all, you spend your days contributing to half the shit going down in this fucked up city."

her jaw suddenly clenches, mouth pressing together. you would've thought someone in this business would be a bit more discreet with the physical manifestations of their moods. but, sevika is like an open book, grey eyes wide, and eyebrows sunk down, her newfound disdain clear as day. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"the shimmer," you answer, squinting at her, praying the expression conveys how stupid you think she is. "your little boss has just tossed it to this city and watches the damages of it unfold without doing shit. wasn't his glorious plan to make this city a better place, not fuck us over even more?"

"the shimmer is helping," she retorts, her voice harder than before, lined with a firm pressure that had been absent in her prior teasing and casual dismissal. "we have something that topside could only wish for, something that gives us an advantage."

"an advantage?" you laugh bitterly. the injustice of it all, the agony you see your people in everyday -- it all floods your insides, wracking you from within. "it's been years since it's come about, and nothing has changed. piltover is still on top, and in addition to that, they have hextech." you make sure your eyes pointedly lock onto hers, hoping she feels every single fibre of your rage. "just admit it. you guys haven't done shit."

"and what exactly are you doing?" her voice is lowered to a heavy whisper, and you feel the noises surrounding you two melt away into a light, background buzz. the iciness of her voice feels almost worst than any other stupid tone she's taken since you started interacting.

"something you and your boss don't seem to be helping at all with." you give her a tight-lipped smile, your gums aching with how hard your teeth press in together, the disjointed shapes of them uncomfortable and crooked as they mash at the edges. "trying to survive."

her nostrils flare, her burning glare pulsing through the barrier of your skin and making your insides turn from the onslaught of anxiety that enters. god, will she unleash some goons on you now or something?

"sevika!"

you jerk at the sudden sound, whereas sevika simply blinks down at you, gaze unrelenting. "what?" she calls out.

uncomfortable at having her eyes still pointed at you, you turn to the voice, seeing a man with small, rectangular glasses hanging off his nose looking awfully mopey.

"you promised us another round," the guy wails, tossing his hands in the air.

you swallow hard at the silence that ensues, still feeling her stormy eyes hooked onto you. after a moment, she says, "maybe later."

the man's shoulders sag as he heaves a dramatic sigh, turning to who seems to be his friend, whimpering, "she's too busy with her date."

you grimace at the mistake, though the disgust you feel at it is fused with an irritation directed at the way your stomach spins at the word 'date.' you're not stupid -- sevika is, objectively, pretty attractive. hot, some people might say. but, jesus, she's a bitch too. and working with silco, which makes for a very unappealing combination.

"come on," she drawls out. you turn back to her, the anger from before now replaced with a wide smirk, one sharp eyebrow lifted up inquisitively. "I can't be all that bad, can I?"

you roll your eyes. this conversation has strayed too much as is, and you're not about to let it tiptoe off into flirtatious territory. "are you going to give my friend back his money or not?"

"hm," she ponders, and lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. you can immediately catch a whiff of the falsehood in the gesture, and tap your foot, waiting for her to just solidify your assumption. "no, I won't. but, do give him my regards."

you grunt, shaking your head. despite your expectancy of it, you can't help but feel a stone of disappointment sink through the waters of your body, falling to the bottom with more impact than you'd like. you shouldn't expect anything of her, there's no reason for you to feel disappointment. your expectations shouldn't have gotten this high in the first place. "of course. have a good day."

as you whirl around to leave, she grabs your forearm, callouses brushing against your skin. "hey, I just turned down a poker game for you."

"uh, yeah, and as a reward, you get a departure from me that doesn't include a kick to the shin." you snatch your arm from her grasp, trying to direct your thoughts to her shitty words as a desperate attempt to ignore the warmth in your stomach. "you're welcome."

with her snarky laugh ringing in your ears, you practically dash to the door, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

it's awful, but at the opening, something in you whispers for you to look back once more. it's okay -- it's reasonable, right? you barely frequent this place, anyone would want to catch one last glance at such a notorious woman in your city, no matter how degenerate and callous she is.

the only con to this is as soon as you find sight of her through your tentative search of the crowd, she's already staring back at you. at being caught, you internally cringe, the feeling only intensified by a tenfold when she tips her head at you with a grin.

ugh. never again.

two weeks later, you find a crisp envelope laying out on the mat outside your front door. in neat, cursive writing, it reads:

A thank you gift for the free business consultation. Do with it what you will. Whether you or someone else needs it. - S

[siffrins-therapist]

🦇 ernrenephandre follow

lordjosephandreispoterianfightme reminded me of THIS batshit ask I got last year, so ofc I now need to inflict it on all my new followers uwu

I'll also go ahead and link my (very correct) meta post about Lady IJK's characterization, and since xe reminded me of this ask, here's Lord's post about why Issue 43.5 should be considered canon, despite what de Plume's forward says. Enjoy!

🫛 howaremysweetiepees follow

[Image description: Screenshot of an anonymous ask sent to ernrenephandretruther that says "Jsyk just BC you're the Savior of Vaugarde, doesn't mean anything you say about The Cursing of Château Castle is canon. Even though de Plume wrote Issue #43.5 with that Thank You in the forward, doesn't mean anything. They just wanted to appease your headcanons about that stupid side character rejoining the team and getting Lady Irene-Janine-Karine all weepy BC you can't handle the complexities of her character!!! I'd say stick to ao3 but if the events of 43.5 are anything to go by you're crab at planning anything, let alone writingg a full meta post or fic. So maybe just stick to your pilgrimage or whatever and spare the rest of us your fangirling." Ernrenephandretruther replies "2/10 anon hate. Too long-winded, de Plume themself says 43.5 is non-canon, and anon, I cannon (sic) stress this enough, I AM NOT MIRABELLE CHEVALIER. I AM LITERALLY MWUDU AND WAS TRAVELING IN KA BUE AND BAKTAN DURING THE FREEZING THERE ARE PICTURES ON MY BLOG, FEATHERS AND THREAD!!! End description]

Didn't like 90% of TCoCC blogs get that copy-pasta last year? Damn, I can't tell if anon's just salty about H. Mirabelle getting a whole-ass book written as a thank-you (FOR SAVING A COUNTRY, WHICH THE AUTHOR LIVES IN, ANON, MAKES CRABBING SENSE TO ME THEY'D WANT TO THANK HER), hated 43.5, or just another Lady IJK white knight who thinks any criticism of her characterization is a direct attack.

🦇 ernrenephandretruther follow

Probably all 3 ngl

🎃 changeoffates follow

Great Change I got the same anon! It's been sitting in my inbox for a year! I am still flabbergasted!!

And jw OP but why's your language set to Poterian?

🦇 ernrenephandretruther follow

Believe me, I'm still confused!

And I'm transferring to university in Poteria so I've been studying the language. I took it in school with Vaugardian but I'm kinda rusty :/ The only reason I know Vaugardian still is cause of ernrenephandre porn LMAO

🧂 lordjosephandreispoterianfightme

Anyone else get this ask since this was posted two days ago???

#fates and wells anon maybe learn to let go or w/e #i dont go here but ist that one of your Change teachings or something? #pretty sure your still going through it and should talk to someone not send out copy-pastas #tbh p sure anon is just a savior mirabelle hater idk why her antis are so fucking annoying #dont you all have anything better to do????

103 Notes

🌠 loop-garou follow

If staff could stop terming me that'd be great

🥐 mysiblinginchange follow

u've literally been posting pictures of squiggles that give everyone a headache????

🌠 loop-garou follow

Skill issue.

382 Notes

☕ hauntedteacup

So was that list where people were trying to figure out which ao3 account belongs to the Savior deleted or...

#cuz i have a theory #dm me if you're interested i don't want to risk getting flagged or something

2 Notes

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Gonna kms that saviorship fic got so popular it was mentioned in the newspaper

🐌snailsforthesnailgod follow

OP don't you live in Ka Bue?

🎭 anguished-actor follow

So you understand my astonishment and horror

🌠 loop-garou follow

Here's the link to the fic for the confused people in the notes :)

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Your never satisfied until my activities page is unusable

🌠 loop-garou follow

You're* :)

#didnt someone print out and bind a bunch of copies of that fic? #and handed them out at cons? #not shocked it got mentioned in the paper ngl #there's even rumors h. euphrasie owns a copy

729 Notes

⚔️ saviors-of-vaugarde-news follow

The latest report from Dormont's House of Change states that people staying there are still seeing ghosts, but most recent accounts put these ghosts mainly in the corridors and common areas. They are no longer being seen in the dorms and classrooms, and reports are becoming few enough that Head Housemaiden Euphrasie told journalists she believes the ghosts should fade by next spring. However, she does admit that she isn't sure why the ghosts have remained for as long as they have but refused to comment on where her first estimation had come from.

-mod castle

🧭 saviorodilewhiteknight follow

"ghosts" when only savior siffrin's ghost is the only one being seen at the house

🏴 chess-cheater-deactivated

Someone posted an explanation here. Basically tl;dr it's Time Craft crab

🧭 saviorodilewhiteknight follow

they fucking got them

#does anyone have screenshots of whatever was in #the link chess-cheater linked? #it's gone now :/ #notes say claude hacked the site and deleted it

2,003 Notes

🧨 defender-offender

Everyone that asks me about Mirabelle is getting blocked. Leave her tf alone, she's been through enough without everyone trying to dig up her meta essays and fics.

#stasis and stagnation i'm this close to deleting everything #claude.exe

638 Notes

🐚 shesellsseashells follow

Disclaimer: I know Savior Siffrin never worked for the K*ng and that Savior Odile didn't actually believe this theory, this is a poll for fun.

#savior posting #voted for he forgot

4,218 Notes

🪭 justafan follow

So. Uh. Anyone else hear about that game coming out? The one about Vaugarde's Saviors fighting the King?

🥚 notreadytohatch follow

Didn't the dev claim to be a vessel for Vaugarde's change god?

🪭 justafan follow

Yeah but. Yeah not touching that one.

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Theres gonna be a what.

#hooboy idc what the game looks like i'll be making popcorn for all the discourse that'll be popping up #is there a kickstarter i wanna donate

🌠 loop-garou follow

🧨 defender-offender

How many accounts do you have?????

🌠 loop-garou follow

You're the one flagging me?? 🥺🥺🥺

🧨 defender-offender

I don't care enough to bother.

🧨 defender-offender

I'll tell everyone to leave you alone if you tell me one thing: Are you the one who gave Euphie a bound version of that fic?

🌠 loop-garou follow

DM me and I'll tell you :3c

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Stars, I swear if that was you...

#this... this is like #proof loop-garou and/or anguished-actor are the saviors #right??? #i'm not insane??? #like it makes sense right??? #and who tf is loop??? who is that in the picture?????? is this some joke from one of the saviorshipping fics?? #are they loop-garou's sona??? #and i swear to change if i only get a bunch of asks that only say 'tee-hee'...

958 Notes

[lolazoel]

Merlin's Titles!

(How accidentally revealing your status as a king and god may help you marry your boyfriend)

Perchance I read too many fanfics but, consider, if Arthur and the knights have found out about Merlin's magic but unaware of the extend. Let's say... they know he's a warlock and dragon lord. You know what? For the fun of it, let's make it Merthur too.

Imagine a scene, Arthur's at a banquet, already king, not married to Gwen, Lancelot is alive. The knights are joking around, drinking, Lance goes up to Gwen and Merlin who lean against a wall, chatting. Lance asks Gwen for a dance. She blushes and lets herself get dragged away. Gwain takes her place, flirting with Merlin who snickers. The song ends, Lance and Gwen return, grinning and in love. Gwain pushes himself off the wall.

Gwaine: Well, now that Gwen is back she can take care of your tasks for a moment, right?

Merlin: *nods*

Gwaine: *bows* allow me this dance, Lord Merlin?

Merlin: *blushes* That's not my title...

Arthur (who came up to them because he got jealous and also wants to ask Merlin to dance): Oh? What is your title then?

Merlin: *blushes harder* really?

Gwaine (who orchestrated the entire situation): of course, Merls, you gotta tell us the full title. How else would we know how to address you?

The room: *slowly getting quieter as more and more people listen in on the king's conversation*

Merlin: *groans* i hate you

Arthru: spit it out. Don't pretend to be interesting.

Merlin: Fiiiiineeee... Well, we got Merlin Ambrosius, Lord of Dragons... I think after Nimueh I also got Master of Life and Death... according to prophecy also Emrys, King of Druids, God of Magic... *he smiles at Arthur* and completion to the once and future king

The room: *blue screening, buffering, very silent*

Arthur: *kisses Merlin*

Gwain: Lance... did you know Merlin's a god?

Lancelot (very glad he made friends with the kid who almost got eaten by a griffon): I didn't even know about the Life and Death part... though it makes sense... his mortality was always unsure

Geoffrey Monmouth: *frantically searching for laws that make hurting Merlin illegal and make a marriage between Arthur and Merlin legal.*

According to the law loopholes define Merlin as a genderless entity, therefore marrying a god is actually legal. Attacking a noble, especially a Lord and King, is super illegal, making Merthur legally supported and haters imprisoned or dead.

I just really like the thought of Merlin revealing his titles like a collection of scout badges... especially because I hc Arthur to have a competency kink, so finding out his boyfriend technically outranks him is a turn on. Don't tell me i'm wrong, you all saw the show. Arthur definitely has a thing for powerful people

[isa-beenme]

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight

Sooo... Who could guess I am a big hater of how SJM made all of Rhysand's effort to change his Court, useless? 😁😁😁😁

Here we also dive a tiny bit into the past of miss gurl let's hug her collectively

Warnings: Use of Y/N, ACOTAR rewrite, female main character, 2% book following I'm destroying the original story atp, mentions of PTSD, mommy issues, daddy issues, lots of trauma, mentions of war, Rhysand 😚

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight - Masterlist

Chapter 10: Cold

A few weeks had passed when the Night Court finally sprang their trap. Azriel’s network had been flawless, and Lucien’s deception had worked perfectly. Tamlin’s forces, along with a significant number of Hybern’s soldiers, had walked straight into the ambush.

The battle had been quick. The Illyrians overpowered them with precision, and before Hybern even realized what was happening, their troops were bound in magic-dampening chains, kneeling before the Night Court’s generals.

Tamlin’s soldiers had cracked easily. Cowards, the lot of them. They’d spilled everything they knew. From Hybern’s plans to their next movements, even details about where the rest of Hybern’s forces were hiding. Hybern’s soldiers, however, had been harder to break. They were loyal. But not unbreakable.

You were still absorbing the news when Rhys brought you to the interrogation chambers. You expected Azriel to be inside, coaxing the truth out of them in his cold, merciless way. The way the rumors had been tailored for him around the Continent. But instead, you were met with a sight that startled you: Azriel standing in the corner, silent, unmoving, while two other spies worked in his place.

You frowned as you stepped closer to Rhys. “Azriel isn’t doing it?”

Rhys crossed his arms, his violet eyes scanning the room. “No. I didn’t want him to.”

You glanced back at the spymaster. He was listening, his shadows curling around him like a second skin, but he wasn’t the one delivering the pain.

Rhys sighed. “Azriel has done more than enough in his life. The things my father made him do…” His jaw clenched. “He doesn’t need to relive those memories. So, many decades ago, he trained a small group of trusted individuals to handle the worst of it. They are mostly from the Hewncity, they like what they do. Azriel only steps in when he wants to. Mostly when it’s personal.”

You blinked, processing that. “So, all this time… I thought Azriel was still the one—”

“He listens,” Rhys cut in. “He gathers the information, watches through the shadows. But he doesn’t have to be the one with the blade in his hand anymore. Unless he chooses to. We decided to let this information out for… you know, reputation and the likes of it. It's easier to fear only one person and not expect more.”

Your throat tightened. The idea of Azriel being forced into that life again, forced to become the weapon Rhysand's father had trained him to be… You were grateful. Grateful Rhys had made sure he never had to relive that unless he wanted to.

Rhys must have noticed the shift in your expression because he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Come,” he murmured, “let’s get some air.”

☆

He winnowed you to a quiet clearing in the forest, far from the war camps, far from the screams echoing in the underground chambers. A picnic had already been set up. Rhys must have planned this beforehand.

He sprawled onto the blanket, arms behind his head, watching you as you settled beside him. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The sounds of the forest surrounded you, birds chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze.

Then, softly, you asked, “What other changes have you made?”

Rhys turned his head, his violet eyes locking onto yours. “You mean besides making sure I don't become my father?”

You nodded. “You’ve been High Lord centuries, Rhys. And I know you’ve changed things, especially reading all the reports we've been receiving the past months. But I want to hear it from you.”

His gaze softened. He reached for your hand again, threading his fingers through yours. “Alright,” he murmured. “I’ll tell you.”

As the evening sky stretched into twilight, the peaceful sounds of the forest surrounding you and Rhys settled into a comfortable rhythm. Rhys' eyes stayed on you as you relaxed beside him, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“I’ve been High Lord for over three centuries, and in all that time, I’ve tried to push for changes that matter. The end of wing clipping was one of the first steps, but it wasn’t easy. Some of the old males that used to do the clippings are still alive, so it's harder to convince the newer generation that they're wrong. Some still hold onto that hateful tradition, the belief that clipping female wings makes them.more obedient. But I’m hunting them down. Slowly, but surely, those who do it for pride are being removed from positions of power.”

You squeezed his hand in acknowledgment, and he continued, his voice steady, thoughtful. “As for the warriors... I've made it clear that every male and female has a choice. No one is required to fight if they don’t want to. Of course, most of the males still take pride in their warrior status, but the decision is theirs. And now the females have the same freedom.” His gaze softened as he looked at you. “It's important for everyone to know that their worth isn’t tied to what others expect them to be. You’ve seen it with Feyre. She didn’t have to fight, but she chose to. I want everyone to have the same choice. Even if that means changing centuries of tradition.”

You nodded, appreciating the way he spoke with such conviction and care. “I’ve seen that in action already,” you said softly. “I've received letters from the commander of the female division. The fact that she's able to learn and decide for herself… it’s really different from how things were before.”

Rhys smiled, leaning back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him. “And there’s still more to come. Every war camp is getting more investment, more resources, but they have to follow the rules. If they don’t, they lose it. This is how we’ll ensure we keep some semblance of order in place when everything is so chaotic. Plus, we’ve been working on mapping fatherless and motherless children. Cassian’s past doesn't need to be repeated, most of those kids don't have the same strength or luck. We can’t let them grow up without guidance, without structure. The future depends on how we raise these kids.”

His words were a weight, a reminder of the trials and tribulations he’d faced over the centuries and the legacy he was trying to build for the future. You could feel the love and hope in his tone as he spoke of the children.

“And what about the Court of Nightmares?” you asked, the mention of it bringing a slight frown to his face. You’d notice the changes there based on how polite Keir tried to be in his reports, the subtle shift in how things were being run.

“That’s a more complicated matter,” Rhys said quietly. “The Court of Nightmares... it’s still a dark place, but it’s not the nightmare it once was. Yes, there are still terrible people there, but there are also many good ones, merchants, artisans, people who have nothing to do with the cruelty of the court’s history. Those people are protected, but the ones who still live in the shadows, pulling the strings of violence, they know the rules. They lock their games inside the mountain and leave everyone else out of it. Let them play their games as long as they stay there. We play along, obviously. They know we are not the cruel crazy people they see there, but at this point I think they just enjoy the show. They think they are degrading me but the whole act turned out fun for me too.” His jaw tightened as he spoke, but his voice was calm. “The important part is that we’ve made it clear. If someone crosses the line, it’s dealt with. There’s no tolerance for cruelty against innocents anymore.”

You thought for a moment before speaking again. “Velaris, though... it’s completely different. When did you open it for the rest of the Court?”

Rhys' smile returned, more fond now. “Velaris is a city that represents everything we’re working toward. Open, free, thriving. It’s only open for the Night Court citizens right now, but we’re slowly working to integrate it with the rest of Prythian one day. We trade with every city, every faction, bringing in the resources we need and giving out what they want. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

You could see the pride in his eyes when he spoke of the city. “There’s still a lot to do, of course,” he continued, “but I’ve tried to do my best. To change things where I can. It will take time, but I believe we’ll get there. And it helps to have you by my side. To know that you’ll be here with me as I keep pushing forward. And also, a few Lords were getting mad at me for not having a wife and ensuring heirs. I guess that's a problem I can solve in a few years too.”

You breathed out a laugh but didn't deny him. You met his gaze, the sincerity in his voice settling deep within you. The weight of his words, the burden he carried for centuries, was something you understood now more than ever. You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as your fingers lingered on his skin.

“You’ve done more than enough, Rhys. And I’m here, always,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with a pride that mirrored his own.

Rhys’ eyes softened as he stared at you, a smile curving on his lips. “I know. And that’s what keeps me going.”

The sun had set, casting long shadows over the blanket as the quiet of the forest embraced the two of you in peaceful contentment. You leaned into his side, letting the stillness of the moment wash over you, grateful for the changes that were being made, for the future that was being shaped, and for the love that had flourished amidst the chaos.

Rhys’ expression softened as he looked at you, his violet eyes searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and concern. The two of you had been sitting in silence for a while, the peacefulness of the moment lulling both of you into a comfortable quiet. But then he spoke, his voice gentle and earnest.

"Tell me about your childhood," he asked. "What was it like for you, before all of this?"

For a moment, you hesitated, the memories rising like a tide, bringing with them a heaviness you didn’t always like to face. But Rhys’ steady gaze gave you a sense of safety, a quiet encouragement to speak your truth.

You let out a breath, looking at the few stars above, feeling their stillness against the turbulence inside. "It was... hard," you said finally, your voice low. "My mother... she was a very dictatorial person. She had this vision of who I was supposed to be, who I had to become. Sometimes, it bordered on cruelty."

Rhys’ brow furrowed, but he said nothing, just letting you continue.

"She hated that I was half-blood," you said, the words bitter in your mouth. "She made sure I knew that every single day. It wasn’t just that I wasn’t pure fae, it was like she couldn’t stand the reminder of what I was. My father’s blood in me was something she despised, and she would say terrible things... about how she wished my father had never made her pregnant, that I was a burden she didn’t want, that I was ‘the mistake’ she’d never planned for."

You swallowed thickly, pushing down the emotions that tried to rise. Rhys was still listening intently, his expression both pained and supportive, urging you to go on.

"She tried to 'fix' me," you said softly, the word ‘fix’ carrying all the coldness it had been intended with. "She wanted me to be perfect for whatever purpose she saw fit. Training me in everything. Music, art, history, fighting, hunting, speaking… everything. I had to be the best at all of it, at everything. She wanted me to be some sort of weapon. A perfect, molded piece to be used for war, politics, balls, anywhere I could be useful... but never to be anything for myself. She wanted me to disappear into the shadows of existence, to never be seen for who I truly was. She never wanted me to be just a half-blood, just an accessory to whatever plan the world had for me. No… she prepared me to not be overpowered but, at the same time, not grab the spotlight."

You fell silent, the weight of the memories threatening to choke you. Rhys reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle, the touch grounding. His voice was steady when he spoke again.

"You had to carry all of... all of those expectations and cruelties?" he asked softly, his voice filled with disbelief, as though he couldn't quite imagine the depth of what you’d endured.

You nodded slowly, the ache in your chest growing heavier as the words spilled out, as if they had been waiting to be spoken for far too long.

"I was never allowed to be myself. I had to be everything for someone else, never for me. I was trained to be a tool, something to be used in whatever way would serve her... and when I wasn’t perfect, when I didn’t meet the impossible standards she set, she’d remind me of how worthless I was. A mistake. A half-blood." You shook your head, the frustration from years of it building in your chest. "I never knew who I was meant to be, only what I was supposed to do."

Rhys was quiet for a moment, the weight of your words settling between the two of you. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet but firm, tinged with an anger you knew he held for anyone who had treated you that way.

"That’s not who you are," he said, his tone resolute. "You are not a tool. You are not a weapon for someone else’s cause. You're more than all of that. You always have been."

You met his eyes, feeling his sincerity wash over you like a balm. A small part of you, a part that had long tried to be buried, wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was more to you than what you'd been trained to be.

"Sometimes I don’t know who I am," you whispered. "Not really."

Rhys’ expression softened, and he leaned closer, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "Then let me help you find out," he said, his voice gentle but insistent. "You don’t have to be anything for anyone anymore. You can be whatever you choose, whoever you want to be. I’ll help you figure that out, one step at a time."

The sincerity in his voice struck deep. For the first time, the idea of being more than what had been drilled into you began to feel possible, like a faint but steady light in the darkness.

"I’ve seen what you’re capable of," he continued. "Not because you were molded into it, but because you are already so much more than what anyone has ever told you. You are strong. You are smart. You have a heart that is bigger than most. A human heart."

You held his gaze, the walls around your heart finally beginning to crack, just a little. For the first time, it didn’t feel like you had to hide, or be perfect, or be something you weren’t.

"I just want you to be happy," Rhys said, his voice soft now, as he placed his hand on yours. "And I want you to know that you don’t have to be anything for anyone ever again. You only need to be you."

You squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of his words, the warmth of his promise. You could feel the quiet relief spreading through you as the weight of your past began to shift, if only just a little.

"I’ll try," you said softly, the first glimmer of hope beginning to take root.

Rhys smiled, his gaze never leaving yours, his fingers brushing over your knuckles in a tender gesture. "That’s all I ask. You don’t have to have it all figured out. But I’m here, and I always will be."

In that moment, with the stars above and the night stretching around you, the weight of your past seemed a little less heavy. Maybe, just maybe, you could start to carve out a future that was all your own.

As the words about your mother lingered in the air, the complexity of your feelings weighed heavily on you. You exhaled softly, a faint sadness in your eyes, as you looked at Rhys. "She was cruel, yes. But at the same time... I think she always wanted what was best for me, in her own twisted way. She pushed me hard, sometimes in ways that made me feel small, but I know she believed it was for my own good. She wanted me to be perfect, to be everything, so the others wouldn't have a reason to put me down because of my blood. In a strange, broken way, she cared for me."

Rhys' gaze softened, his expression understanding. "I can relate," he said quietly, the pain in his voice evident. "My father... he was cruel too. But in the end, he thought he was doing what was best for me. It didn’t excuse the way he treated me, but it made me understand, in a weird way, why he did what he did."

You nodded, the sorrow mingling with a strange sense of understanding. "I grieved for her, you know? Despite everything. I loved her, even if she was everything I feared and resented. Losing her... it was hard."

Rhys reached out, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. "I understand. It’s complicated, but that’s what family is, isn’t it? It’s love and pain all wrapped up together."

A sudden thought made you smile, and you leaned in closer to him, brushing your lips against his cheek softly. You wanted to show him, in your own way, that everything he had done, everything he was, meant something to you. "One kiss," you whispered softly, as your lips brushed against his cheek. "For every little thing you’ve changed in me. For every way you’ve made me feel seen."

His eyes softened, and he let you continue, not speaking but understanding your intent. You kissed his forehead, your lips lingering there a moment longer. "For every way you’ve made me feel heard, even when I was lost in my own pain."

You trailed a kiss to his lips, gentle at first, a simple brush of affection. "For making me believe I could have a future," you whispered against his lips, before moving down to his neck, pressing another soft kiss there. "For making me feel safe when the world has always felt so dangerous."

Your hands reached to his chest, brushing against the fabric of his clothes before planting a kiss over his heart. "For showing me that I can trust again, that I don’t have to hide who I am." You moved to his ear next, your lips tracing its edge. "For being patient with me, and showing me that my heart has worth."

Finally, your lips touched his hand, your kiss delicate and full of admiration. "For everything you’ve done for this world, for your people, for the ones you love. For proving that it’s never too late to change and to fix things."

Rhys watched you with a soft smile, his eyes dark with emotion. And then, as if drawn by the same desire, he began to kiss you back, his lips pressing gently against every part of your body that he could reach. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your lips, your neck, and every place where he had witnessed the strength of your spirit, places where you had shown him who you really were, free from expectations and from the past.

His voice was low, almost a growl, as he whispered against your skin. "One kiss for every part of you that refuses to let the world break you. For every time you chose to be yourself, no matter the pain."

The warmth of his touch, the softness of his words, and the tenderness of his kisses filled you with an overwhelming sense of connection, like something deep inside of you was finally being healed.

Eventually, the two of you broke apart, both needing to breathe, though you remained close. Rhys chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair as he looked down at you. "You know," he said, his voice filled with affection, "we’ve spent so much time kissing that we’ve forgotten about food."

You laughed, a sound that felt foreign and free coming from you. "I suppose so," you said with a teasing smile. "But I think I could go without it for a while."

Rhys shook his head with a smirk, pulling the food toward you both. You sat back, letting the laughter linger between you before the conversation shifted to more mundane matters. But even as you ate, you were keenly aware of the intimacy that had passed between you.

And as you sat together, sharing a meal, there was one unspoken rule you both knew you had to honor. Neither of you passed food to the other, there was no accidental sharing that might ignite the bond between you too soon. You both knew that the moment would come when you were ready to accept it, to claim it fully, but not yet.

For now, it was enough to simply be in each other's presence, to share small, beautiful moments that built a foundation for something even deeper. And that, for the time being, was all you needed.

☆

Cassian had returned from Illyria a few days ago, vibrating with excitement, even if the situation wasn't the best. Rhys had told you Cassian always came back from the camps with his energy renowned. The moment he stepped into the training ring where you and Rhys were lounging, his sharp gaze landed on you. He walked with his usual swagger, but there was something else in his expression, a certain hint of curiosity.

"So," he drawled, arms crossed over his chest. "I hear you’ve been trained. Ever fought before?"

You raised a brow, amused. "I have."

Cassian smirked. "Then I think it’s time for a test."

Rhys chuckled beside you. "Cassian, I don’t think she needs to prove—"

But Cassian ignored him, already stretching out his arms, rolling his shoulders. "Come on, sweetheart. I just wanna see where you're at. We’ll keep it simple. Just me and you."

You stood, stretching a little, rolling out your wrists. "Fine."

Azriel, who had been quietly observing, leaned against the railing of the training ring, his shadows curling around him. "This should be interesting."

Cassian grinned, twirling a practice sword between his fingers before tossing one your way. You caught it easily, spinning it once in your grip.

"Alright," Cassian said. "Come at me."

You tilted your head. "Are you sure?"

Rhys let out a low laugh, recognizing the glint in your eye, but Cassian only grinned wider. "Give me your best shot."

You didn’t hesitate. You surged forward with speed that Cassian hadn’t expected, forcing him to block at the last second. The force of your strike sent him back a step, and his grin faltered slightly. He adjusted, attacking with a quick sequence of slashes that you dodged with practiced ease, deflecting each one with a sharp clang of metal against metal.

Rhys and Azriel watched intently as you fought, their amusement turning into intrigue. Cassian grunted as you landed a hit against his ribs, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to prove a point. He barely had time to react before you twisted away and struck again, forcing him on the defensive.

"Alright," he muttered, shaking out his hand. "Maybe I underestimated you a little."

You smirked. "You think?"

Azriel finally spoke. "What if we made this more interesting?"

Cassian looked at him, then at Rhys. "You want in?"

Rhys grinned, standing. "Why not?"

And just like that, the game changed. Now it was Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel against you. Rhys had barely raised a hand before you attacked. You moved fast, too fast to what they were used to. You feinted toward Cassian before shifting at the last second, sweeping Azriel’s legs from under him. He caught himself with his wings, barely avoiding a full fall. Cassian lunged, but you anticipated it, twisting under his arm and elbowing him in the ribs before blocking Rhys’s incoming strike with the flat of your blade.

"Mother above," Cassian muttered, rubbing his side.

You danced between them effortlessly, your fighting style sharp, efficient, and familiar.

"She’s almost fighting like an Illyrian," Azriel noted, breathing slightly heavier than usual as he dodged another hit. His eyes narrowed. "Where did you learn that?"

You deflected Cassian’s sword and flipped back to create some space. "My mother trained me," you said simply.

Rhys shot a look at Cassian. "It makes sense. She wanted her to be prepared for anything. And since Illyrians are known as the best warriors, why not use their techniques?"

Cassian exhaled, rolling out his shoulders. "Alright. But there’s one thing we haven’t checked yet."

You raised a brow. "And that is?"

Cassian suddenly lunged forward again, this time using his wings to gain extra speed. You barely managed to sidestep, but then Azriel was behind you, and Rhys cut off your escape.

Pinned. Or at least, that’s what they thought.

At the last second, you dropped low, sweeping your leg out and taking Rhys’s feet from under him. He grunted as he hit the ground, and before Cassian or Azriel could react, you winnowed behind them, kicking Cassian square in the back before grabbing Azriel’s wrist and twisting it behind him, forcing him to yield.

Silence. And Rhys groaned from the ground. Cassian turned, rubbing his spine, while Azriel simply let out a long breath, clearly impressed.

"You have got to be kidding me," Cassian muttered.

Rhys, still flat on his back, just laughed. "I think we just got our asses handed to us."

Azriel gave a small nod. "Definitely Illyrian training."

Cassian narrowed his eyes at you, then let out a low, appreciative whistle. "I’d love to know who exactly trained you because I need to hire them for the camps."

You sheathed your sword and smirked. "You’d have to raise them from the dead for that."

Cassian shook his head, but a grin spread across his face. "Alright, alright. I admit it. You’re terrifying."

Rhys finally sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "That was unexpectedly humbling."

You grinned, offering him a hand. "Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll go easy on you next time."

Cassian laughed. "Oh, I like her."

Azriel just gave you a long, considering look before murmuring, "I think we all do.

You stretched your shoulders, rolling out your wrists as you met Cassian’s gaze. He was still catching his breath from the last fight, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Another round?" he asked, tilting his head.

You smirked. "Unless you’re scared."

Cassian let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, I like you even more every second." He cracked his neck, stepping back into position. "Alright, sweetheart. Let’s see what else you’ve got."

Azriel and Rhys exchanged glances before shrugging and taking their places beside him. Three against one. Again. You lunged first.

Cassian blocked your initial attack, but you moved too fast for him to counter, slipping under his defenses and landing a sharp elbow to his ribs before twisting away from Azriel’s incoming strike.

As you moved, you spoke. "My mother had an estate near the Illyrian Steppes," you said, ducking under Rhysand’s outstretched hand. "She used to help females who ran away from the war camps."

Cassian grunted as he barely dodged your next hit. "Your mother?"

"She was cruel," you admitted, spinning away from Azriel’s shadows. "But she wasn’t evil. She saw what was happening to the females, and she decided to help them."

Rhys aimed a kick at you, but you sidestepped effortlessly. "And how does that tie into you knowing how to fight like this?"

"There was a male," you said, stepping into Cassian’s space and sweeping your arm up to block his next attack. "One of the few who actually helped those females escape. My mother made a deal with him, he would train me, and in return, she would continue helping those who fled."

Cassian’s brow furrowed as he adjusted his stance. "So he taught you the Illyrian way?"

"Not exactly." You ducked under Azriel’s punch, spinning behind him. "He taught me how to beat Illyrians."

That made them all pause for a fraction of a second. You took advantage of that hesitation. You winnowed behind Cassian, kicking the back of his knee to force him down before using his shoulder to launch yourself up and over Rhysand, landing lightly on the balls of your feet.

Cassian cursed. "What do you mean ‘beat Illyrians’?"

You smirked. "You fight full force, power, brute strength, reinforced defenses." You dodged Azriel’s blade with ease, twisting around to block Rhys’s next move. "But I’m smaller. Slimmer. That means there’s less of me to hit."

Rhys narrowed his eyes. "So instead of matching an Illyrian in force, you use speed?"

"Speed, angles, redirection," you clarified, sidestepping Cassian again. "I don’t hit where you’re strongest, I find your openings and hit where you’re weakest."

Azriel suddenly changed tactics, dropping his stance to try and grab you from below, but you saw it coming. You twisted mid-air, using his shoulders as leverage to flip behind him, landing softly.

"That male trained me to exploit Illyrian weaknesses," you continued, parrying Rhys’s strike. "Your wings, too big to move quickly in tight spaces. Your center of gravity, higher because of your muscle mass. Your attacks, strong, but predictable. Illyrians fight like battering rams."

Cassian grunted, rubbing his ribs. "And you fight like a fucking dagger."

You grinned. "Exactly."

Azriel, to your surprise, let out a quiet chuckle. "No wonder we can’t pin you down."

Rhys shook his head, amusement in his violet eyes. "I think Cassian just found his worst nightmare."

Cassian groaned. "Remind me to never underestimate you again."

You smirked, adjusting your stance. "Don’t worry. I’ll remind you every time I knock you on your ass.”

You barely had time to recover before launching into another round, dodging Cassian’s relentless strikes as you explained further.

"Illyrians are powerful, but after learning your ways it becomes predictable," you continued, parrying Azriel’s blade before flipping over Rhys’s sweeping kick. "Your wings are an advantage in the sky, but on the ground, they slow you down. If someone knows how to use that against you—" You feinted left before slipping behind Cassian and jabbing at the soft spot near the base of his wing. He hissed and stumbled forward.

"Shit," Cassian muttered, shaking it off. "That’s a dirty move."

"You should teach it to your soldiers," you countered, stepping back. "Better they learn it from each other than from an enemy on the battlefield."

Azriel, observing, nodded in approval. "What else?"

You dodged a punch from Rhys and continued, "Illyrians tend to overcommit to an attack. You strike with force, assuming your opponent will buckle, but if they evade too fast, your momentum leaves you wide open. Instead of lunging full force, feint more often, leave room to recover if you miss."

Cassian frowned. "We usually don’t miss."

"You usually don’t fight someone like me," you shot back with a grin. "And you probably won't for a while. But someone will figure this out one day. Better to be prepared."

Cassian smirked, clearly impressed. "I’ll make sure the war camps hear about this."

Rhysand was about to respond when a voice echoed across the training ground.

"RHYS! CASSIAN! AZRIEL!" All four of you turned as Morrigan sprinted toward you, her golden hair wild, her face twisted with urgency. "Hybern attacked Adriata" she shouted. "Tarquin is begging for help”

For a single heartbeat, everything was silent.

Then Rhysand was moving. "Get the others," he ordered. "We leave as soon as possible.”

☆

The moment you arrived in Adriata, the scent of blood and smoke filled your senses. What should have been a thriving city of shining white stone and flowing canals was in ruins. Buildings collapsed, homes burned, bodies — Summer Court soldiers, civilians, and Hybern’s invaders — littered the streets. The sea raged against the shore, as if mourning the destruction.

Azriel barely took a second before vanishing into the shadows, his siphons glimmering as he gathered intelligence. Rhys turned to you, his violet eyes dark with fury.

“Assess the battlefield,” he ordered. “Tell me where we hit first.”

You scanned the chaos before you, breaking it down into patterns of movement, weaknesses in the enemy’s formation. Your mother could be as cruel as she wanted, as restraining as she could, but she always taught you how to find your enemies weakest points.

“Hybern spread their forces too thin trying to claim multiple areas at once,” you noted, pointing to a key road where a large group of soldiers were forcing civilians into a corralled area. "They're using that plaza as a control point. If we take it, we cut them off from their strongest foothold."

Rhys nodded, already barking orders. “Darkbringers! Secure the plaza and eliminate all Hybern forces. I want no prisoners. The rest of you, clear the civilians and get them to safety!”

A low murmur rippled through the ranks, Night Court wasn’t known for aiding other courts. But when Rhysand’s power flared, swallowing the battlefield in darkness, the hesitation vanished. The army surged forward, weapons drawn.

You turned to another front where Hybern’s forces were moving toward the palace. “Az, I need your spies to take out the commanders. Without orders, their soldiers will fall into chaos. They are killing machines, but they don't use their brains as their own.”

A flicker of shadow, and he was gone. Then you saw Tarquin, standing at the city’s edge, trident in hand, watching your forces winnow in. His face was wary, unreadable.

But then he heard Rhys’s voice booming over the battlefield. "Take Hybern down. Protect the civilians. Leave no survivors among their ranks."

Tarquin’s surprise was brief. Then, with a roar, he raised his weapon, and the sea itself answered. A wave crashed into the docks, swallowing Hybern’s reinforcements whole. Just then the battle truly began.

You darted forward, slicing through Hybern soldiers as the fight spread. You moved through the fray like a ghost, reading the battle as if it were a book laid open before you. Hybern’s forces fought with brute force, but they were slow. Sloppy. You took down a general with a precise strike to his exposed side, then winnowed just as an arrow flew past where your head had been.

A soldier lunged at you, sword raised, only to be blasted into oblivion by a dark tendril of power. You turned to see Rhys hovering above, his wings spread wide, darkness writhing around him as he cut through enemy ranks like a god of death.

Not far away, Azriel emerged from the shadows, blood dripping from his blades, his expression unreadable as the enemy commanders fell.

Then Cassian’s forces arrived, Illyrian wings blotting out the sun. The tide of battle shifted. And Hybern was about to regret ever setting foot in Adriata.

Taglist: @rcarbo1 @raisam @itsinherited @romantic1stories @nebarious @mystirica-18 @willowpains @xelladarlingx @lucilia9teen @lifetobeareader @hjgdhghoe @carmenadkins78 @ireadsstuff @oiolabomdia

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her [and i do], i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear]. and all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.

[lucelute]

I have never understood the people who hate on other people's favorite ships or characters. Stop hating.

While I have been fortunate to find such a petty hater, I have seen a lot of people who have.

Like, I don't understand the hate some people apparently have for Mel?? Sir, she comes from a war country in which the strong order around or kill the weak, and just one woman that has what? 2, 4 years on Piltover trying to survive and maybe be able to go back home supposed to do against the whole of Piltover high society?

Like, yes, as the richest woman in Piltover she could have helped the undercity, and she did benefit from the system that put a lot of people down. We are not going to say she didn't, because she did, but people forget that she was banished from her home at a young age. While I don't know her exact age, she seems to be around the same age as Jayce and Viktor, who, when we first met them, were around their mid-20s, as at the end, they were in their early 30s. You may dislike her or some of her actions, but she was a foreigner in a strange new country that seemed to share most of her views.

Jayce's journey was actually nice to see. He went from a middle-class scientist with dreams to do good to a semi-high-class councilor corrupted by high class and political greed to just a man that wanted what was really important and try to make his wrongs rights.

I would also go batshit crazy if my mom died a tragic death in what was an entirely avoidable issue(if Piltover had actually done his job as a government, I will die in this hill.) and then be manipulated by a woman that seems to be giving me support, giving me tools to better myself, and power that my grief filled mind probably shouldn't have, it doesn't excuse her war crimes and I won't, because girl, you really had to poison the air of a whole city with shitty ventilation?

But, to be fair, every character in Arcane had their not-so-very-stellar moment...

Vi fucked a cop and then after the breakup went emo, Jinx did a lot of questionable things, Viktor become a cult leader, Vander almost killed his twink, Silco became a drug lord (with a drug that was basically the only medicine Zaun could afford), Heimerdinger had more years than anyone to fix the 2 cities and did nothing, Singed also did a lot of questionable things, and Ekko is the best boy.

PSD: If you don´t like a ship, move on, you don´t have to send hate to people who do.

[rocketbirdie]

thought dump about the mh wilds beta below the cut. I am playing in japanese with english subtitles on PS5; I play solo; I am, to nobody's surprise, maining the lance. Thought and opinions are in no particular order and kind of not fully coherent:

Settings stuff:

Even the largest HUD and text sizes are too small. Not everybody has a huge honkin screen. That being said, the accessibility settings that DO exist, I am very happy with. I was pleasantly surprised to see an option for dark background behind captions, which goes to show just how goddamn low the bar is LMAO

Slightly related: Sunbreak spoiled me rotten by letting me have total control over which HUD elements are on the screen at all.

PLEASE for the love of all that is good in this world, PLEASE LET US GET RID OF THE RADIAL MENU in the full game. I am the #1 radial menu hater of all time and I do NOT want it hijacking my camera movement.

Thank you capcom for letting me use O=confirm in a world where playstation stubbornly adheres to its pretentious little X button <3

General gameplay stuff:

Where are the ridiculous hairstyles. These people all look too Normal. TEETH OPTIONS????

NO MORE GENDER LOCKED BULL SHITT YEEEEHAAAAW

The story and characters are boring as dirt which is par for the course for MH, but man is it a teensy bit embarrassing how hard they're trying to push it.

THE WORLD FEELS SO ALIVE!! I love seeing packs of both small AND large monsters living in their environments. Everything is so detailed and the map is immense, but not so huge that it's completely overwhelming.

Giving the hunter and palicos voice lines is an affront to gog.

Slinger. eeeugh. It's fine I guess, I just would rather not have it at all. I am a cultured hunter who prefers to fling hot dung with my bare hands

Oh Sweet Lord They're Making Me Pick Dialogue Options In A Monster Hunter Game

WHYYYYY with the always online thing? what is the obsession with this from triple-a devs???? "Online single player" should not be a thing, let alone the last option on the list. What happened to just single player. NO I DO NOT WANT TO USE AN SOS FLARE. Hello can anyone hear me

They did confirm that there will be a pause button in the full game. Right? God I hope so

HOOO BOY I hope they do some major adjustments to the Seikret movement in the full release. Even with the discrete analog stick movement setting on, it's so uncooperative at times. HATE how hard the game tries to make automatic movement happen. I want manual control at all times, and auto-running is not the convenience they think it is. Frustrating enough that I found myself avoiding riding the Seikret on some hunts.

I understand wanting to have a seamless open world experience but man... the lack of any strong distinction between hub and quest, and the fact that you don't just automatically return to the hub after the hunt, is really screwing with my head. It feels wrong and not in a "just give it some time you'll get used to it" kind of way.

LANCE:

Lance feels pretty good in this game!! The shield is very reliable even without any relevant armor skills. I love the finishers they added to the end of the classic 3-poke combos. Gives it just the right amount of extra zest without going overboard.

i won't lie though. i miss sunbreak lance's stupid overpowered shield hop -> leaping thrust combo. even if it's probably for the best that it's gone :(

Counterattacking feels off?? Like it's hard to tell when an attack just connected with my shield, there isn't a strong enough punch to it. Is this the "floatiness" that people were complaining about in the last beta test? Because I totally get it.

Also I have never had any trouble in any prior MH game with cancelling out of the dash attack. Why is it suddenly SO difficult to stop dashing. Petty whiny add-on: let me do the shield dash instead pleeeease pretty please

Combat in general feels kind of weird... I think it's because of the emphasis on realism? I'm perfectly fine with sluggishness in my monhun weapons, but this just feels bogged down. Thought I was going crazy until I tried the hunting horn (another main of mine from GU and Sunbreak) and sheathe->normal running was significantly faster than self-improvement's running speed, which is.... yikes............

side note: gypceros is just as obnoxious as he has always been! A+

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[pastelalleycat]

free pass to talk abt anything you want

Oh! Uh... hmm.

Gender.

Normally I don't like "man in a dress" scenes because they're so often played for laughs at the ridiculousness of the scenario- why would a man ever wear a dress unironically? he's supposed to be the tough one, etc. etc.- but this scene from "The Date"... oh boy, this scene was executed perfectly.

[PT: perfectly. End PT.]

Wander isn't made to wear a dress against his will. He bursts onto the scene in full Southern belle style, acting about as cutesy and flirty as a lovesick admirer can get. He is so incredibly comfortable acting the part of a woman and at no point does it feel like he's making a total fool of himself. He's making a fool of Lord Hater. He's doing a freaking drag performance in a kids show and everyone's just vibing with it.

And this isn't the only time he wears a dress! Though this is by far the most major time he appears femininely (at least in S1, I haven't seen S2), there are small moments in other episodes where he dons a wig and/or dress.

One of my earliest Gender memories at age 5 or 6 was wanting to be Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty. I wanted to have the 'fit and the cape and the sword and battle Maleficent to save the princess. I wanted to bend down on one knee and kiss Aurora's hand. Having been raised conservative Christian, this memory is super comforting because it assures me I'm not faking. I've always been genderqueer, I've always been bi, I was just very sheltered and discouraged from expressing or appreciating that.

I'm a uterus-haver and have euphoria in wearing masc clothing despite not being a man. Wander has euphoria in wearing fem clothing despite not being a woman. We are both genderqueer in my book and I love that so so much.

[unaloid]

WOY au notes

this is my swap au, if you haven't seen it, you can look at #swap au on my blog 👍

back then, i wrote down my thoughts on the characters new personalities and dynamics. but i didn't end up posting since i just kept editing it. so here is what i wrote!

~~~~ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ~~~~

basically i aim to keep the core personalities of the characters the same, even if they swap roles they are still themselves inside wherever i can help it. find a similarity between the characters and lean into it!

DOMINATOR: dawdle, name change suggested by @/kradeiz. i love it so much.

she is not 1000 years old, she is not a legend. she is just some immature woman who stole a hat. because she likes to take things 💚 she was down on her luck after fleeing her old galaxy for hat crimes, so wander helped her and quickly realized someone needs to keep her out of trouble. wander worries a lot for her when she goes off on her own.

she is selfish and tends to "look out for number one". she doesn't understand being told "no" and thinks, well i want it, so its mine.

when you watch episode "the prisoner", you don't get the sense that wander is being cruel in the episode. but if dom did the same thing, she would be laughing at him. if hater confessed his love to her, she is still laughing her ass off. she is a force of chaos more than anything.

WANDER: even while taking og!sylvia's role as a "toughguy", he is still 1000s years old and "the legend". he is wander the travelling hero who has saved many planets from villains, and will always lend a helping hand to those in need.

he is small but a good fighter that can take down a big opponent with tricks. wander and dawdle travel on his motorcycle, with which he has beaten many villains by challenging them to a race. wander offers a defeated villain his mercy, he still reforms people, its a bit of tough love ^_^ on the bike, dom holds onto his back or later he gets her a sidecar.

wander doesn't like to leave dawdle alone, he is always thinking of worst case scenarios

SYLVIA: "lady haymaker"! but i will still call her sylvia.

watchdogs had a lightning on their hats to match hater, so sylvia's army have a feather on their helmets to match her! the knight theming came from this. plus she is like a big dragon, so knights seem thematically appropriate. all she needs is a princess. her army call her "milady" instead of sir, and dawdle might call her "lady".

she is similar to og!hater in that her rage gets the best of her, so she wrecks her own plans often. why does she want planets? i guess she deserves some respect after always being shoved down by her family.

lady sylvia is bigger than normal, so she is taller than both hater and dom while standing up!! she needs an extra power, too, so she has fire breath!

dawdle is super annoying, she needs to be stopped, and stop saying we are friends and stop trying to ride my back. but maybe we can harness her chaos and use it for evil.

HATER: "sir hater". sylvia's minions are little skeletons called boneheads, but hater gets to be second in command because he is the biggest and strongest. his incompetence ruins things just as often... i originally thought, "they are like pinky and the brain," where sylvia is more competent and its hater who brings her down. but really, its more fun if they are both failing in different ways.

hater is bossed around by sylvia because she is bigger than him. he takes great pride in representing the army, being the best at what he does and being told "good job". it hasn't occurred to him that he could get recognition elsewhere, he wouldn't even know where to begin as a solo villain.

yupppp he likes dom. how conflicting, he's battling a lot of emotions when he's assigned to go capture and destroy her. she can often just talk him out of it bugs bunny style, running mental laps around him. she treats him cruelly and just finds the whole thing very funny.

PEEPERS: lord peepers.. maybe he should have a cooler name but i like to keep it simple. it takes a lot for me to change names lol.

he made it to the top due to being smart and nerd brain. i have the least to say about him because... you get it right? you can look at him and understand everything. its peepers if he was successful as a solo villain like he always wanted to be.

his suit is a big robot that he pilots, and its the big reveal that he's just a little guy in there.

i said this before, but sylvia does not want him. plots from the show about hater wanting dominator, can be supplemented by dawdle trying to be his friend. she thinks he is sooo cute and doesn't understand why she can't do whatever she wants. that's why she goes into his ship in this version of "my fair hatey" and they have to rescue her

SIDE CHARACTERS?????

the way i did the main characters was by lining them up in order of screentime and shifting to the right. there needs to be an end of the list so that the last character can swap to the front. i like that no one "trades" with eachother one-for-one like most swap AUs do, it changes the dynamics between characters more dramatically!

so if i wanted to add side characters, i'd pick the next group of 5 (or more or less) by screentime and do the same thing. i'm not a big side characters girlie tho, i prefer to only focus on the main characters, so i was not rly concerned with this at all lol. but there is a "right" way to do it, and i don't rly want to calculate all dat

(the only side characters i really like are major threat and emperor awesome)