#corsorpeli

[raayllum]

me watching them make soren as hot/slutty as possible. the sorvus and sorpeli shippers say thank you

[jelicatessen]

Look. I don't have context. Who is at war? Is there a Helen and Menalaus equivalent? Who dragged Opeli off and where? But in my head, Soren is sulking and refusing to send Katolan soldiers back to war until Corvus is begging him to do something because the soldiers of the Five Kingdoms are dying and someone needs to help. And Soren gets that, really he does, but what kind of message does it send? Will the Agamemnon equivalent think he can just keep taking what he wants? But Corvus says he'll do it, he'll wear Soren's armour and lead their troops so they can help without breaking Soren's oath and it works! Morale is great!

And then. Well. You know the rest.

[artemx746]

”what if canon sorpeli?” “What if canon sorvus?”

personally I’m praying for canon poly

[sorinethemastermind]

Inspired by @raayllum's fic-athon back in October, I introduce to you... The Review Fic-Athon 2.0!!

Now if you didn't participate in their's, lemme explain. Through this little fandom event you can get ficlets in return for writing reviews on IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes! Most episodes and seasons have a surprisingly low number of reviews and it's an easy way to boost the show's rating on Netflix. Anything for Arc Three, amirite or amirite?

I'll be using the same rules as Raayllum's previous fic-athon, so here's how it works.

✩ Rotten Tomatoes: you can't review individual episodes, only seasons. So if you review all 7 seasons you get 1 ficlet, written by yours truly!

✩ IMDB: you actually do review the individual episodes, so for each season's worth of episodes you review you get 1 ficlet.

⋆｡°✩ Make sure to leave star rankings as well!

Making the show trend on IMDB or giving it higher Rotten Tomatoes ratings will make people more likely to see it, and therefore more likely to binge the show! Which is super vital to us getting Arc Three, especially in the first 28 days after the show's release. And even if there is an episode / season you're not as big a fan of, giving them all the same 5 star treatment (or 10 star, on IMDB) can really help boost the show's rating. #anythingforthesaga!

Once you've written your reviews, send me an ask with proof (like saying "I left reviews on Season [blank] under username [blank]) or via screencaps. And then I'll write you a fic!

I'll write just about anything [except smut]. It can be fluff or angst, canon ships or rarepairs! Also doesn't have to be shipping related at all. So happy reviewing. Let's get us that saga!!

[raayllum]

The finale coming in clutch with a peak Opeli characterization moment that also doubled as Sorpeli and Corsorpeli moment(s) was a beautiful unexpected treat lemme tell you

[jelicatessen]

198.

It's not one of Soren's better decisions. Certainly not one of his wiser ones. If anything, it's a decision borne out of stupidity and alcohol, and Opeli is simply there because she always is.

She deserves better than this. How many times now has she offered him her counsel? How many pots of tea have they been through talking about his problems, his mistakes, his neverending unresolved trauma? How many times has she brought him out his self pity with the promise that he is and always has been good?

Can she still say that now?

He certainly can't.

She dresses quickly, her face red with shame for more reasons than one. She's still a cleric, after all of this; she still has vows that she's supposed to keep, and she knows everything because he'd told her everything, and he'd still offered her a drink, and then another, and then another after that. She won't even look at him, which is the least he deserves, because he'd known too: all the things she never let herself say, all the feelings she'd buried for his sake, because he was happy, or at the very least, he thought he was, and now...

"Are you angry at me?" he asks at last.

"I'm not the one you should be asking," she says shortly.

"Opeli, I—"

"Don't." She scowls at him and the hurt in her eyes knocks the wind from him. There is anger there, and disappointment, and a hatred for herself that should entirely be for him. "Don't," she says again. "This never should have—how could I have done something so stupid—?"

"This is my fault," he says quickly. "It's all my fault, you shouldn't—"

"I still did it, didn't I?" she snarls. "I consented. I did it knowingly, knowing that you and—" She swallows. "I have to go."

"Opeli, wait—"

"Don't." Her voice breaks. Her eyes flash. Something rises in her throat and dies before it ever leaves her lips. She turns to go. "Corvus can never know."

Soren winces. "He won't."

She doesn't look at him. Then she leaves.

The door slams behind her and the silence, the solitude, is somehow worse. Soren squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands.

Things between him and Corvus have been tense for months now, and he'd been drinking because they'd found something else to fight about, some other stupid reason to disagree. Opeli had only wanted to check on him, and what had he done?

He supposes he's beyond forgiveness now. From both of them.

Two people. Two relationships. Destroyed by his stupidity in a single night.

The dawn is harsh. He wonders how he is supposed to face it after this.

[jelicatessen]

I don't go to the fandom anymore but the corsorpeli polycule has some mad Iliad vibes and I will admit that I've had some Thoughts about it

[jelicatessen]

Oh boy oh boy if you're taking ficlet requests, how about Opeli making sure Soren doesn't collapse of exhaustion while he's supervising rescue efforts and providing aid in the aftermath of Sol Regem's attack?

193.

It's all kind of a blur afterwards. Soren chalks it up to being exhausted from, well, everything, but it's not like there's been time to rest between it all anyway. There are too many wounded, too many dead, too few supplies to share between the too many refugees, and he has enough to deal with without the grief creeping along the edges of his mind, waiting for him to feel it and to process it on top of everything else. The physical labour is hard, but he's used to that. The emotional labour...

Well. It can wait.

So he heads out to the castle ruins with different groups of soldiers and volunteers to salvage what little they can. He moves rubble and bodies and supplies, helps pitch tents and herd children, tends to the wounded with the limited training he has. He's worn thin and he knows this. He hasn't slept for more than a couple of hours since the attack and he knows this too. He knows because Opeli keeps telling him to rest and Corvus keeps telling him to sleep and they're just as tired as he is, but neither of them stop, so why should he?

It's been a week. A little more he thinks, but he doesn't really know because the days have started to bleed to into each other and the rise and fall of the sun doesn't really mean anything in light of everything that's going on. He knows that the others had all come back the morning after the attack, and he knows Ezran had given the order to move everyone to the Banther Lodge after a couple of nights at the temples, but beyond that, all Soren knows is the ache in his muscles and the precarious uneven rhythm of his next step, and the one after, and the one after that.

He's sitting by the fire tonight. There's a pile of damaged armour beside him that he doesn't really know how to repair but the blacksmith didn't make it and the Banther Lodge works, but they're still sitting ducks out here. Damaged armour won't do them any favours. There's no room to lose anybody else. He's fixing the leather in a bracer when they find him, Corvus and Opeli, both tired, both weary, both obviously concerned.

"'Sup," greets Soren absently.

Corvus and Opeli glance at each other.

"We've been ordered to rest," says Corvus.

Soren snorts. "How's that going for you?"

Opeli twitches her lips. "I can't refuse an order from the king," she says drily, "but more importantly, neither can you."

Soren pauses in his work and raises an eyebrow.

"You need to rest," says Corvus, taking the bracer from him and shoving the pile of armour over with his foot. He takes a seat next to him without waiting for an invitation and Opeli does the same on his other side, already frowning at the bandage she'd placed over the cut on his forehead.

"You've split your stitches again," she says, her disapproval obvious.

"I'm fine," mutters Soren. He tries to snatch the bracer back but Corvus holds it purposefully out of reach.

"You need to rest," says Corvus again, tossing it back into the pile and kicking the whole stack of it further away. "We all do," he adds pointedly to Opeli, who wrinkles her nose petulantly and draws her knees to her chest.

"I'm not arguing," she mutters. "But whether or not we do relies on Soren, doesn't it?"

Soren stares at them both. Corvus actually smirks.

"We made a deal with Ezran," he says somewhat smugly. "I don't need a break—"

"Yes you do," snorts Opeli.

"But I wouldn't take one unless Opeli took one—"

"And I won't take one unless you do." Opeli gives him a look then, her usual stern-faced glare laced with something stubborn and a little sour, but something hopeful too: an opportunity to rest mandated by someone else that she won't feel guilty for taking. "So whether or not we get to take a break is up to you, really," she says.

Soren pauses. Then he scowls at them both. "That's a dirty trick."

"It's pretty fair actually," says Corvus, stretching out beside him. "You need to rest, Soren. If not for yourself, then for the people who care about you."

"And you do have people who care about you," says Opeli. "You must know that."

There's another pause. Corvus leans into him on one side and, hesitantly, Opeli does the same on the other, their warmth a comfort against the evening cold, their weight a ward against the feelings he isn't quite ready to feel.

He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, it's dawn. The morning is quiet. The fire is out. Corvus has shifted so that his head rests on Soren's shoulder and Opeli has tucked herself under his arm in her sleep. The blanket draped over them is scratchy but warm.

Soren lets himself go back to sleep.