#and that Liriel is better

[tiny-huts]

Controversial take but Eilistraee fans try not to be annoying for a day challenge. 0 days since our last nonsense

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 11: A New Ally

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. (with updated upload schedule) ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.3k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ You come to forge a bond with an unlikely ally.

You were caught in a state of reverie as you walked from your room to the sick hall. Helaena had joined you that morning to break one another’s fast. Amara and Liriel were off their duties for the day and Helaena insisted she get you ready. The princess had become oddly invested in what you wore as of late. Likely her way of trying to spend more time with you. Though, if she asked, you would gladly just sit in silence with her if she wanted; it was always comfortable to do that. 

When she left, you were put in a dangerous position. Whenever you were not occupying your mind with work or talking to friends, your thoughts would drift towards Aemond. You would wonder what he was doing and immediately scold yourself. You had no reason for the sudden change in thoughts nor did you wish to even investigate why. It was better to constantly keep your mind occupied to avoid the real truth that hovered on the edge of your consciousness. 

So, when you walked into the corridor outside the sick hall to start your rounds, you were met with immense displeasure - and slight buzz - at seeing Aemond standing just outside the open doors. 

He had his arms clasped behind his back and appeared to be waiting for something. You walked closer and he turned upon hearing you approach. 

“Is there anything you need, your grace? I believe Daeron is in the laboratory.” You questioned. 

“I wish to be filled in on the patients. Seeing as my brother is occupied, I believe you can handle it.” Aemond informed you. Inside your mind, you cringed. Of all the things that would help you take your mind off that very elf, having him visit your place of work was not in the cards. 

“I was just about to make my rounds,” You walked into the hall with Aemond trailing behind. There was a station that the other healers used. In it were the aprons and supplies needed. You tied it around your waist and loaded various tonics, bandages, and herbs into the allotted pockets. All the while Aemond watched you get ready. 

“Is there a reason his grace wishes to invest himself in our research?” As you slipped the last of your needed supplies into the apron, you looked up at Aemond to find him already watching you.

He adjusted his stance from one foot to the next and scanned the large hall with his eye, “I’ve suddenly developed an interest in it.” You could not quite decipher the tone in his voice. Daeron never mentioned Aemond caring too much in this process other than occasionally asking for any significant updates – of which there was never much at all. 

You then gestured to the vast hall filled with rows of patients on cots. The space was illuminated by the large chandeliers and lanterns strung about. You wondered if you would ever get used to the perpetual darkness – a constant night – caused by the elder trees. It was uniquely beautiful, a mix of both eerieness and otherworldly sights.

“I must admit, my expertise when I came was largely on the taint’s effects on nature. Daeron has helped extensively in teaching me the physiological effects,” You began to walk. Many patients were in a deep sleep, so you would check over their body for any signs of symptom intensification while informing Aemond of all you could think about, “The taint infects them through contact with body openings. The speed at which it burns through the body varies and we have yet to figure out why.” 

You made sure to pace away from any of the patient's range of hearing. You leaned closer to Aemond, suddenly overcome by his increasingly familiar scent of burning wood, parchment, and spices. 

You made sure to keep your voice down, “That sectioned-off area at the end of the hall is where the late-stage patients are. Nothing seems to ease their pain and the visual effects of the taint are intense. They typically only have a day or two before…” Your voice trailed off and your face scrunched up in slight pain. Despite working under these conditions for a little over two weeks, you would never get used to the tug at your heart when seeing patients die.

Deciding it was best to move on, you went about treating other patients. All the while Aemond hovered close, occasionally exchanging words with the patients. Many of them were elves from the outskirts of the kingdom and rarely saw the king, so it was rather exciting for them to see him. 

Your mood took a turn for the better when you arrived at Lyra’s cot. She shot up in bed and reached out for you with an excited look on her face. She called out your name and let out a heartwarming giggle. 

“How are you, sweet girl?” You questioned as you sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m feeling better than I was yesterday,” She replied, “How is Lady?” 

You pulled the small doll from one of your pockets and positioned her to face Lyra. One of your hands gently picked up the arm and had the doll make a waving motion towards her. Lyra giggled and brushed the doll's hair with one of her hands. 

“Well, Lady has been an incredible help with my work. She likes watching the potions brew in my laboratory. I have also taken her on a few walks in the garden by my room.” You informed her. In the moment, you forgot about Aemond who stood close by and watched your exchange with Lyra. 

Lyra looked over your shoulder and her face paled, “Y-your grace.” She moved to bow but groaned in pain. You stopped her from moving and eased her back to lying down. You looked back at Aemond and tilted your head as if to order him closer. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed but still had a tenseness in his shoulders. 

He seemed to be at a loss for words to address such a young girl being condemned to a death bed, so you spoke up, “The king is here to check in on everyone. He cares deeply for his people and worries if you are all being treated well.” 

Lyra handed the doll back to you and addressed her king, speaking your name first, “She helps me whenever I need it and does the same for everybody else. She’s my best friend.” You sucked in a breath and tried to fight back the tears that pooled in your eyes. Aemond cast a glance towards you, something brewing behind his eye. There was a slight twitch of his right brow as he regarded you.

The sound of boots hitting hurriedly against the floor distracted you. Daeron came rushing down the aisle and stopped by the bed. His chest heaved and he took a moment to compose himself. You stood up from the bed and moved to rest your hand on his shoulder as he coughed. Aemond’s eye once again zeroed in on your hand and you quickly rescinded it from Daeron’s shoulder. You did not want him to get the wrong impression again. 

“The…” He wheezed to catch his breath, “The potions. They’re more successful than the previous ones.” 

His words seemed to catch you off guard and you grasped both of his shoulders, not caring about how it is perceived, “What?”

Daeron reciprocated, his hands resting against your shoulders. He looked into your eyes, “It is not a complete solution, but is damn well close, you genius.”

You jumped back and turned to Lyra, “Darling, I must go, but I will see you later. Then, we can talk about our plans for adventures.” You bring back a previous topic that you had been reluctant to do so again. On a previous visit, you did not want to give her hopes up for a cure but did express your want to take her to visit many places. Perhaps, now, you could fulfill that wish.

“Your grace,” You turned to Aemond, “Forgive me but I must head back to the lab with the prince,” 

The king made a quick motion with his head in dismissal, “I shall not keep you.” 

You and Daeron then shot away, dashing down the centre aisle and towards the laboratory. Emotions bubbled through your body. If Daeron was correct, then the progress made from the potions could be enough to narrow down the possibilities of a cure. 

In this kingdom and its resources, you had made more progress in such a short period than you ever had in your years of past research. It was more exhilarating and rewarding than ever.

It was pure exhaustion that led you to leave the laboratory in the late hours of the night. Daeron had shown you the progress both of the brews made on samples of plant matter. It only paused the deterioration of the taint, but did not get rid of it completely. Regardless, it had been a massive breakthrough. More pots had been made, with some of the other lesser elf healers coming to aid in the creation of them. 

If all went well, those potions could be tested on some of the willing patients late into the next day. Then, with the gods willing, the possible success of the plants can be seen in the body and distributed to the patients to stop them from getting increasingly ill. They would still be sick, but at the very least it would not lead to death. You and Daeron would be given more time to find a cure without the burden of losing patients.

You stayed with the healers in the creation of the potions, but Daeron had made you go after the fifth time of almost collapsing due to exhaustion. You were reluctant but acquiesced. It was, with great misfortune, that a particular elf interrupted your path. 

Criston Cole stood in your way. His armour reflected the torchlight from the walls. You could see the bitter smirk on his face and the intense malice reflected in his eyes. 

“I heard you’ve made some wonderful progress.” He taunted. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. While it was a habit Aemond had, Cole’s attempt at replicating it came across as juvenile. No ounce of command in the king’s presence could ever be mustered in an elf like Cole. 

You put up a strong resolve and prepared to take his pointless insults. While he had only ever directly talked to you in your first week while you were in the garden harvesting herbs, there were occasional moments when the two of you would be in the same area. He had, even from far away, made it easily known that he harboured a great feeling of disdain towards you. 

“We have indeed,” You paid extra care in reminding him that it was not solely you who had worked on the cure. No victory belonged to a single person in this fight. 

Cole got closer, his taller figure imposing, “Ah yes, how could I forget? My apologies, I do not know why I was so foolish to believe your kind could make such a feat.” 

He tried to get under your skin, but you would not let him, “No worries, Ser Cole. I do not blame you for forgetting such a simple thing, with all of your… overwhelming duties on the council.” You stood on the tightrope between civility and discourtesy. 

His eyes narrowed and you could tell his temper had flared. He then stood chest to chest with you and raised his arm. You stood with your shoulders straight, willing to take whatever he threw at you. Cole would not have you act out in violence towards him. Despite having made incredible progress here, your record was not entirely clean since your run into the woods. If you chose to attack an elf – especially a council member – no amount of advocacy on Helaena’s, Daeron’s or even Aegon’s account would save you from harsh punishment. 

As Cole narrowed in to strike you, a voice interrupted, “I hope I am gravely mistaken for what I am witnessing.” 

Aegon came forth from a corner at the end of the hallway. This time, at least for you, his state of appearance was new. He wore slightly better clothing and appeared to be in no state of inebriation. Was this all a dream or some weird hallucination? Was Aegon… sober?

“Pardon, my prince?” Cole questioned. 

“I said,” Aegon repeated as he came up to the elf and stood directly in front of him, blocking you slightly, “I hope I am gravely mistaken that you, an esteemed member of my brother’s council, were about to hit a lady.” 

Cole almost seemed to crumble. He took a step back and plastered on a fake smile. He laughed nervously, “My prince, that is absurd. I was simply pointing her towards her room.” 

“She needs directions in an area of the castle she has frequented for a few weeks?” Aegon raised his eyebrow in a challenge and turned back to you who stood behind him, “Is this true?” 

You looked at Cole and the face he gave you was full of agitation. As much as he mocked you, your answer could decide what would happen to him. If you admitted that he was going to strike you, his punishment could be severe – which is why there was an almost pleading look in his eye. It was incredibly pathetic that you almost felt bad for him. Almost. 

However, it would best keep this under wraps so that possibly in the future, he could owe you, “No, my prince. I am simply exhausted and disoriented. Ser Cole was helping me.” 

Criston deflated slightly, a breath leaving his mouth. Aegon turned to the elf and received a nod of confirmation. You could tell by the look on his face that he did not believe it in any way but nodded his head. 

“Ah, well then I shall escort her to her room. She will not need your help anymore, Ser Cole.” Aegon’s tone got harsher by the end of his words. He hooked his arm through yours and began to move you down the hallway, not even staying to acknowledge any more words from the elf. 

Once the two of you were carefully sequestered in your room, Aegon spoke again, “I have no idea why you would ever cover for such a lowlife craven bastard.” His words seemed to shock you by their intensity, but you could not argue against them. You did not know that Aegon harboured such resentment towards Cole. You thought that perhaps he may be jealous of Cole’s seat on his brother's council. 

“What is Cole’s problem?” You asked. 

Aegon went to the pitcher and cups on the table in your living space. He took the wine and poured himself a drink before settling comfortably into your plush cushions. He waved the cup around in his hand, “I do not even think the gods know.” 

You huffed out a small laugh and sat on the couch across from him. He quickly poured you a cup and you took it with grace. Elven wine had grown on you despite its strong nature and you found yourself preferring it over any of the wines back home. It was an observation you found yourself making a lot; how you tended to prefer things here than back in your home kingdom. 

The two of you spent a good while drinking and conversing in small talk. However, you glanced at the table you broke your fast at and saw your father’s journal lying there. You sat the chalice down on the low table between the couches and sat up from your relaxed position. You clasped your hands together. 

“Aegon?” You got his attention. He turned and saw your serious posture and expression and mimicked it, though more comical in the way his body swayed. “What do you know of Lake Rosmagne?” 

He seemed taken aback for a moment, as if surprised you did not ask an intense question given your serious nature, “Can’t say it is of particular importance. It is a lake associated with light magic, but most of the lakes in our borders possess magical qualities. Why do you ask?” 

You bite your lip and contemplate confiding in him. While not as trustworthy as Daeron, you did not feel like this was something to inform him of nor was he always willing to go along with your ideas. Helaena may not give you the answers you seek in her attempts to keep you safe; something you did not blame her for. 

Aegon on the other hand, does not hold the same intense desire to protect you as Helaena does. He lacked the restraint and composure of Daeron. For a while, he was the perfect candidate to confide in. 

“My father wrote about going to that lake for his studies. It had something to do with a hunch. It was his last entry before his disappearance.” You confessed. You picked up the chalice again and took a sharp swig. The cup was cradled in your lap and your fingernails scrapped against the markings carved in the gold plating. 

“You think my brother had something to do with it?” Aegon asked. 

“Why does everybody always involve Aemond with my issues?” You questioned exasperatingly. 

“I did not specify which brother.” Aegon smirked and took a sip of his drink before continuing, “Look if you think there is something truly awry, I could help you.”

“Why would you want to help? You did not know my father.” Your face scrunched up.

“That is true, but do you see me doing anything else? The duties I do have are impossibly boring.” Aegon yawned and set the cup down. He walked to your door and opened it. He paused and turned back around. “You are also my friend now… and possible good-sister soon.” 

You sighed loudly with frustration, “I wish not to repeat myself to anyone but Daeron is nothing but a treasured friend.” You tried to reason. 

Aegon gave you a coy smirk and repeated his previous words, “I did not specify which brother.” Before you could even think to respond, he left your room and shut the door. You were left in your room, drink in hand, wondering what possible meaning could be behind his words. It was like a cryptic message or some frustrating childhood riddle that could not be solved no matter how hard you tried. 

You decided it was best not to dwell on it and get ready for bed.

It was the next day and you had been skipping down to the hall to get to work. All night the potions had to be brewing and you were excited beyond belief. There was a joviality in your step you had not experienced in many years. You planned to check in on the patients and see if any were willing to volunteer themselves to test different dosages of the potion. Then hopefully, there could be a path to delaying the intensity of the infection in the elves and gain more time for finding a cure. 

You turned the corner to see the entrance of the sick hall. The doors were opened and Daeron stood there. His shoulders were slumped and his expression was brokenhearted. Redness surrounded his eyes and he appeared to be on the verge of tears. When he saw you, he stepped forward to stop you from entering the hall. Daeron’s hand grabbed your forearm gently and his eyes conveyed sympathy with hints of agony. 

Your mood immediately dropped, “What is it?” 

He opened and closed his mouth, unable to get the words out. You spoke again, “Daeron, what has happened?” 

Daeron spoke your name and his voice cracked at the end, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Chapter 12: Death's Sting Preview

Aemond stood tall, his one eye trained on you. There was a determination that swirled in those orbs along with something indecipherable. You were confused as to why he had come to visit so long into your grief or even come at all. 

“You have an hour to pack,” Aemond informed. 

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

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[boytumms]

Jae Anon again lol. I’ve got too much inspiration. This one comes from a drawing from @drpeppertummy where the giant invites their friend over and the little human can’t eat it all lol.

Enjoy!

~

Liriel tied his hair up into a bun as he stood on the chair, watching as Kelton placed a plate of food in front of him. Liriel’s shoulders were slightly taller than the table. “I hope you like it! I made it with food from my very own farm!” Kelton said happily, placing a straw in the cup for Liriel to reach easier.

“Thank you, I’m sure it’s delicious,” Liriel said, nervously looking at the food. Kelton had even dialed it down with the amount of food, but it still looked like way too much to eat for the small elf.

Nevertheless, Liriel dug in. He didn’t want to make his friend feel bad by not eating the food that was made for him. Liriel ate and ate, ignoring the grumbling protests as his stomach filled up more than it was used to.

“You must be pretty hungry. I can hear your stomach from over here,” Kelton said, laughing as he spoke. Liriel laughed to, trying to make it sound real despite his aching tummy.

The two continued to eat, talking and joking as Liriel’s poor tummy was stretched more and more. Liriel barely managed to finish the fried chicken leg, the grease making his stomach grumble and cramp.

Liriel still had more food to go, but he felt that if much more food was forced into his belly, he was sure to pop. The small elf rubbed his stuffed stomach, being visible as his shirt rested against loosely with little room to spare.

“You haven’t drank much water, do you need some help?” Kelton asked, reaching across the table to tilt the straw down. Liriel only nodded, forcing himself drink some of the water. His belly groaned unhappily, the water mixing in with the rest of the chicken and potatoes.

Liriel looked at the food that still sat on his plate, sighing quietly before he started eating more food. He forced himself to eat until the plate was finished, his belly becoming more and more stuffed with each bite.

Liriel crossed his arms and leaned against the table, breathing heavily as his stuffed belly hung heavily from his small frame. His shirt rested snuggly against his belly, his pants already unbuttoned to allow extra room.

“Are you ready for dessert?” Kelton asked, clearing the table to take the dishes to the kitchen.

“Maybe next time. That was a filling meal,” Liriel huffed, his groaning belly loudly protesting at the thought of more food.

“Oh nonsense! There’s always room for more!” Kelton exclaimed, walking to the kitchen. Liriel thought about leaving while Kelton was gone, but stayed because he didn’t want to be rude.

Liriel watched as Kelton put a small piece of cake in front of the small elf, accompanying it with a cup of soda. Liriel begrudgingly picked up his fork, digging into the strawberry cake. It was good, he admitted that, but he was sure it would taste better under different circumstances.

Liriel sipped some soda here and there, turning his head away to grimace as the bubbly drink messed with his already aching tummy. He slowly ate the sweet, creamy cake, pushing farther and farther as not to offend his giant friend.

When Liriel finally finished the cake, he felt like he was going to throw up. His shirt was already sliding up his rock hard belly, watching as he could see the cramps rolling through his over extended stomach.

Liriel used his hands to apply pressure to help get the bubbles out, hoping for any relief he could get. He was surprised when the straw was pushed into his mouth, looking to see an expecting Kelton. There was still half a glass left, and Liriel didn’t think he could finish it.

He gave it a try anyway, each gulp entering the mixture in his belly. Liriel held his poor belly as he felt it expand with each gulp, the bubbles only adding more pain for his excruciatingly painful stomach.

With a couple gulps left, he felt his belly button pop out. Allowing little room for his expanding stomach. Once he finished, Kelton took the dirty dishes away, allowing Liriel to desperately work at his gurgling mess of a belly.

Liriel managed to get a few small burps out, biting back a few moans of pain as he massaged his stomach. This would take a long time to process, and his stomach was going to give him hell over it.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?” Kelton asked, sitting back in his chair. Liriel pulled the hem of his shirt down, wincing a little as the shirt hugged his giant belly much to tight for his liking.

“It was delicious. I’ll have to come over another time for another meal. Thank you so much for the amazing food. I’ve got to get back now to tend to my farm, but I’ll let you know when I’m available next,” Liriel said, forcing a smile onto his face.

The elf managed to waddle himself down the tiny stairs off the chair and make his way to the door, which was a lot farther for him than the giant. Kelton waited at the door as he opened it for Liriel, paying no mind to the stuffed elf’s belly.

The two said their goodbyes and Liriel continued waddling towards his farm. Kelton could only watch through the window with a smirk, wondering how long it would take to convince Liriel to move in and become his own personal pocket boy.

oh wow I can't believe he managed to finish the whole meal! Poor little thing must have been so swollen after, with a stomach ache to match. Imagine he gets invited over almost weekly, but each time he eats so much food his body cant digest it fast enough to be empty by the time he goes over for dinner. His stomach is constantly stretched and full, and bit by bit it just gets worse each week...

[helloliriels]

H E L L O A W A R D S E A S O N 2 0 2 4

When you're in fandom spaces, you see how beautiful the world can be ...

🌌 The 2nd Annual Liriels Awards begins on March 10th! Because I have this Sherlock in a sheet ... and so many to thank for making the world a better SpAcE to be in! Join me! 🌌

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[robotslenderman]

Im rereblogging this bc that line about Lyris’s horror when she realised she’d been in the Deep Roads and pregnant reminded me of how Liriel was pregnant a little earlier - she figured it out on the trip to the Arbor Wilds, in fact, bc her shapeshifting got all fucky - but then went and charged into the Deep Roads anyway bc she’s completely fucking feral and it wasn’t until she was too big to move around easily that the others managed to finally get her to sit the fuck down

TELL US MORE ABOUT THE BABY

Okie, so her name is Tala. She was conceived on the trip to the Arbor Wilds, but was only 'discovered' after Lyris returned from the Frostback Basin. So there was the fun realisation that she'd been pregnant while venturing through the Deep Roads and fighting a possessed dragon lmao

She was born in Wycome and was delivered by Keeper Deshanna, who performed the typical rites and rituals to induct the newborn into the clan as one of the Dalish. Lyris also made a point to bring her to the Vhenadahl in the Alienage and receive blessings from the Hahren because if there was one thing Lyris learned, it was that too many elves - Dalish and City - felt like they were entirely different peoples, and she wanted to try to promote some kind of unity, to remind them all that they are of the same people regardless of circumstance. There ended up being a celebration amongst the elves over the new arrival, and the party lasted for hours before mother and baby were exhausted and needed to retire.

During the time before Trespasser, Tala grew up primarily in Skyhold. As she became more mobile, she made a habit of hiding and jumping out at staff, soldiers and visiting dignitaries before running away laughing and she loves to spend time in the garden hunting for bugs and worms, and eating dirt as tiny children often do.

Krem stitches her new toys from time to time. So far she has a nug with wings, a golden halla, a griffon with a crooked tail, and a dragon that breathes fire (aka Dagna figured out a way to make the dragon spit out illusionary sparkles when it's squeezed and Tala still isn't sick of it).

She learns to speak Elvhen, Qunlat, Antivan, and a little Orlesian, and everyone anticipates that she's definitely going to be a mage, given that her mother and father are both mages and powerful ones at that, so there's plenty of discussion about her training. Lyris intends to stick to Dalish tradition on that front. Once the basics are covered, the others can give their own input, but Tala needs a solid base without any mixed messages.

And when it comes to Solas, no one is allowed to openly detract him in front of Tala. They don't need to sing his praises, but Tala deserves to form her own opinion of her father and not be spoonfed criticism. And if anyone's ever asked about where he went and why he never came back, the official answer is 'I don't know, but we assume it's very important'.

After Trespasser plays out and Skyhold is carefully defanged, Lyris takes Tala to live in Kirkwall where she takes up her role as Comtesse, though they make plenty of trips to Wycome over the years. Lyris tells Tala the truth about Solas being Fen'Harel and that he left for an important mission, but certain details are withheld on account of her age and Lyris' hope that Solas' mind can be changed and he can still come back to be Tala's father. She'll be told more as she gets older, but it's very piecemeal.

By the time Dreadwolf comes around, she'll be nearly eight years old and probably have just come into her magic within the last year or so with Lyris and Merrill as her primary teachers. When she tells her mother about the strange wolf watching her in her dreams, she learns that her mother has the same dreams, and that its Solas watching over them from the Fade, never drawing close because they could tempt him to abandon his path.

Solas has known about Tala the whole time, having learned about Lyris' pregnancy from dreams and his spies, and he tries his best to maintain an emotional distance from the child. He doesn't always succeed though, and he watches over her, protecting her in her dreams. On one occasion, he might let her reach him so that he might get the chance to speak to her just once, to let her know him because this is his daughter and he wants to love her even though he can't and if he just allows this one meeting, maybe it will satisfy this terrible yearning in him so that he can focus solely on his path. But he knows that if he meets her once, it might be unbearable to return to that path and he might fail to let go.

Essentially he's torturing himself even more because he loves Lyris so much and he wants to love their child so much, but he loves his people and can he really put his love and their child over the countless souls that he betrayed?

Smash cut to Tala eating dirt and trying to climb into the stable with a drasolisk, which definitely gave poor Master Dennet a heart attack.

[rukafais]

Sometimes I see people acting like the only way you could possibly like Drizzt over Liriel is if you'd never read anything other than Drizzt or like you just hadn't been introduced to Liriel and CLEARLY one is better than the other and it's just BIG MEAN SLAVERING FANBOYS WHO DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER THAT GIVE DRIZZT ITS POPULARITY and like.

What if I told you that Liriel and Drizzt are companion series, that Liriel was expected to be as different from Drizzt as possible, and I genuinely believe reading them both and appreciating them both for the way they expand a reader's knowledge of Forgotten Realms drow from different perspectives is....good, actually

[robotslenderman]

Eliza has many incarnations, including as someone in Thedas the same generation as Liriel's children. But here's the story of this specific Eliza:

Rook!Eliza has the same relative backstory as all the others - intensely physically abusive father whose abuse eventually kills her mother, and for extra trauma her father blames her for it and forces her to help her dispose of the body. They lived in an alienage, so the other elves got immediately suspicious when Eliza's mother disappeared and delivered a little vigilante justice of their own. The alienage started raising Eliza, but since this Eliza is born earlier than her other Thedassian version she ended up in the Circle when her magic appeared.

Eliza is also autistic. Very autistic, enough that she could only very barely be considered low support needs - she's not the stereotype of a severely disabled child but she has selective mutism, a VERY pronounced flat effect and can appear stone cold to people that don't know her well. She can be incredibly inappropriate to the point of appearing like a psychopath (and the trauma sure as FUCK doesn't help). Because of this she is intensely off putting to people who don't know her.

People who do know her well, though, eventually learn to read her very subtle body language. Someone who knows her well can tell when she's "smiling" but a stranger would only see her resting bitch face. She's also a bit more emotionally open around people she trusts.

Rook!Eliza is 45 by the time DAtV happens, making her (presumably) 33 around the time of DAI. She was in the Circle of Ostwick and helped Sable Trevelyan with the children. New children would have obviously found her scary, so it helped her learn to soften her voice and be more gentle, but she was drawn to children who were like her. She learned that despite her anxiety, people started seeing her blunt no-nonsense mannerisms as sort of... protective behaviour, meaning she often ended up being voluntold to tell Templars to fuck off when they got bolshy. Except the selective mutism made that really difficult in the beginning until she learned to manage it.

During the Rebellion she stayed around Sable and the kids. That obviously didn't end well - it's been a while since I went over Sable's backstory, I think one or more ended up possessed by demons? - but she survived. She stayed with the mages in Redcliffe where she ended up hanging out with the Tranquil, with whom she felt more camaraderie than everyone else because they didn't think she was weird for being so bad at masking, and didn't treat her like a freak.

(There was definitely a rumour in the Circle that she was a Tranquil without a brand.)

With the fate of the Circle up in the air, she ended up seeking out the Grey Wardens and joining their ranks at the same time that Blackwall was sentenced to, and became one in the same Joining ceremony. She had to learn to fight to be part of their ranks, but the Wardens quickly discovered that her situational awareness was shit - she never seemed to realise if a Darkspawn was running up to her unless it was right in front of her. She was mocked mercilessly for this. As Eliza tried desperately to improve over the next few months she started heavily relying on her hearing...

... and then it hit her: wait. This shit isn't normal at all. It's not normal to be able to hear something coming but not see it. Being Eliza, she ran some personal tests and realised that her vision was pretty fucked; her left eye was blurry (which she hadn't yet noticed because her right eye compensated), and her peripheral vision in it was completely gone. Her lateral peripheral vision in her right eye was better, but she couldn't see her own nose unless she was staring straight at it.

She hid this for a long time, using her hearing to improve her situational awareness, but it was hard and she was injured several times. When her left eye's vision was almost entirely gone and her right eye was now blurring, she finally told her captain what was going on. He was pretty pissed off that she'd hidden it as long as she did because of the risk it posed to others, but not entirely surprised, because she sure acted like she couldn't see shit a lot.

But by then she was good at compensating - her hearing didn't sharpen, that's a myth, but she got pretty damn good at *processing* what she heard, better than others. She was also better at processing her Darkspawn senses as well. This meant that while she might not have heard things other people couldn't, she was much better at tracking subtle changes in sound than they were, meaning that she often noticed if something was "off" before everyone else did. She didn't have the distraction of visual input.

A lot of Grey Wardens weren't happy to have a blind Warden and believed she should have an early Calling. Her captain defended her; he retired her as a fighter, but used her other skills to help track Darkspawn. It also seriously levelled up her ability to read people; with her autism she was bad at picking up social cues as a child, but as an adult who was forced to make herself useful or be sent to the Deep Roads, she got *really* good at picking up cues in people's tones of voices better than allistic people from sheer rote practice.

(This is specifically inspired by the bit in Emmrich's episode of Vows and Vengeance where you meet Pascal. Due to the constraints of the medium the voice actor had to portray "this guy is evil but pretending to be good" with only his voice, and he was fucking incredible; despite being very warm, kind and welcoming you IMMEDIATELY know he's up to no good. You can HEAR in this man's voice that his character knows something that the listeners don't, AND finds it funny. Obviously with voice actors those audial cues are exaggerated because of the medium, but it made me think of how a blind person is probably actively looking for those cues every single time they interact with someone and how good they'd get at it, and how much better they would get at spotting subtle tonal shifts that visual people wouldn't notice right away as a result.)

By the time of DAtV her vision is gone completely in her left eye and so fucked in her right it may as well not be there; it can only detect colour and light. Her captain fought for her to have a gryphon to make Eliza more valuable to the Wardens, but they pretty much laughed in his face and gave it to Davrin instead.

Her captain (wondering if I should make him Blackwall? It's in character for him and he could have easily risen in the ranks faster than her) stuck his neck out for her again and again. He was disgusted by the ableism she faced and taught her other skills to make her "useful" to the Wardens to help silence the people who opposed her presence, for example leadership skills. Because of that she successfully lead the defence of the village in the Warden backstory and helped seal the Deep Roads, using the techniques that her captain had taught her to get people to listen to her in spite of their doubts.

The attempt to prove her usefulness only backfired when the Wardens then complained she disobeyed direct orders. Realising that they wanted her gone regardless of her abilities, she took a step back from the Wardens to figure out where her future should lie. On a whim, she decided to visit her old friend Sable in Minrathous to recharge for a bit... only to run into Varric at a bar. She and Varric hadn't talked much during DAI, but he recognised her as a friend of Sable and Blackwall and called out to her.

And the rest is history!

[dreamingdarklyblog]

Hi Guys!

We're tits! Um... Liriels writing guy said we should cum say hi ;). We're not really sure what to say though. We don't get to do much thinking?

He made us really big and bouncy and omg it's so much fun. It's pretty fun being in charge too case now we can feel ourselves up and jiggle and squeeze, fuck it's soooo hot!

Ummmm what else... we don't know really... Um. Usually were really tiny and it sucks sooo much cause liriel doesn't like us and never like shows us off or anything. She totally would if we were bigger like now though! Omg. So much better like this.

She's been totally obsessed with her pussy lately and ignoring us. It's so lame. Dunno why she's so special and we don;'t get any fun. He should make us big and bouncy more often, then she'd play with us more.

Do you guys cum reading what liriel writes? That's so hot =). I wanna make you guys cum too! we're way better than she is, cause we're really big and bouncy. But we don't have a lot of practice... What can we do to make you guys cum? we're not allowed to send pictures... stupid rules.

[magesofmystra]

@aamusedly for Elezar

Liriel and Elezar had been awaiting what was likely going to be a very swift execution when it was inexplicably delayed. Night had fallen by the time the door to the prison cell was opened and the warden escorted a much smaller figure in.

That figure turned out to be a particularly small drow, one that Liriel had gambled on arriving.

"I see you've dragged some other innocent victim into your schemes again, Liriel." Earawen placed a hand on her hip, looking over the pair.

"It was a case of mistaken identity on my part." Liriel explained. "And unfortunately the guards were more alert than I expected."

"You should know better by now. Honestly if it wasn't for the execution order I wouldn't have bothered to come." Maybe. A stint in prison wouldn't likely teach the drow princess much given how lenient they were by Underdark standards. So she turned to Elezar. "Hello."

[starlightingsss]

sparks fly / 1

sparks flew as she smiled. 2

haymitch x reader fic , eeekkkk i love him smmm !! escort is unnamed here bcs idk who was before effie, literally shitting on and slandering the district partner sooo !! long ass part btwww

as they gathered for the reaping - her last reaping - anxiety seemed to buzz in the air. she was 18, turning 19 in a few days, unlucky really. with her birthday falling on the week after the reaping, she was probably the oldest in there. the girls were dressed in their best dresses, she saw some really pretty ones but she still felt hers was the best. her dress was handstitched and embroidered by her, a blue satin dress with lace and embroidered flowers. the dress took her days, considering how delicate the satin was and how detailed the flowers were.

on this day, she was truly beautiful. the sun shone into her beautiful (e/c) eyes that seemed to glow at that moment, with the deep colors swirling and the little chunks of gold that seemed to just float. the sun shone on her (s/c) skin, reflecting off of it as if there was glitter. her features fitting themselves perfectly and beautifully as she walked in the street, people waved at the familiar beauty who grew up around them. as she walked hand in hand with her little sister to the reaping area, along with dozens of other kids.

they filed into the stands as she looked around admiring people's dresses, she saw a very pretty white sundress with puffed out sleeves and a woman with flowers braided into her hair.

as everyone stood there in anticipation, waiting for everyone to finish flowing into the large auditorium-like area.

"y/n .. what if its me this year?" liriel said, as her eyes filled with tears.

"sweet girl if they pull your name i'll volunteer." the woman said this without hesitation, knowing that the moment she did hear her name - or if she heard a name of a 12 year old - her arm would go up and the "magic" words would slip out of her mouth, sending her to her near death.

she knew that liriel wouldn't want her to volunteer but she knew she had a better chance at surviving in the arena either way. their chances were both slim but the woman was smart and resourceful, her body never really needed much food so it would never be an issue. her knowledge of poisons and herbal medicine was almost guaranteed to be unmatched amongst the tributes today, she knew how to make the most of the most simple things and that would probably save her life in the arena. she was small and fast, her frame probably letting her fit into many hiding spaces and holes, light enough to be able to scale the tallest trees.

as she was lost in her own thoughts, the escort on the stage started her speech, just some stuff about the hunger games. nothing important, but she was listening. waiting for the names to be called. she had this odd feeling in her gut, not something she had felt before but it wasn't dread. it wasn't pleasant either, it seemed to be acceptance. the woman had been able to put a smile onto her face for the very first time at a reaping, unsure of why. though this would be silly , she seemed to know her fate was already decided. she was going to be in the games this year.

and she was right, as the escorts shrill voice called out "y/n l/n", her little sisters tears and sobs filled her ears but still - she couldn't help but smile. this feeling of euphoria filling her senses and mind, and the smile on her face growing as she moved through the rows with "sorry"s and "excuse me"s, her escort was gorgeous, and the drunk stumbling on stage was even more so gorgeous, his blue eyes captivating, his rough beard adding this charm to his face. his features fit beautifully together, almost as beautiful as hers. she couldn't hear anything except the "cheers" of the district, a smile continuing to light up her pretty features as she imagined what it would be like in the capital.

the feeling she was feeling could only be described as euphoria, the freedom and happiness she felt unmatched to anything she felt in her life. her vision finally unclouded as she saw the world for its magnificent beauty. she gracefully walked onto stage, almost floating. she wasn't sure what this high she was feeling was but it was beautiful, and it made her feel more beautiful than she already was.

as she reached the stage, she shook hands with the escort, letting out a compliment directed to her hair. the escort smiled and thanked the girl, before turning and drawing a boy from the reaping bowl now.

the name basil thornehawk was boomed out into the mic, the ugly man making his way up to the stage. around the same age as y/n, but nowhere near as beautiful. his features contrasted themselves making him look like something in between a troll and an ogre. the girl herself wasn't tall but that man was short and disgusting. he looked like the kind of man who could only read at a 3rd grade level - and considering the general disregard for education in their district, saying 3rd grade was generous. but it was ok, she was gorgeous enough for both of them.

as they were led to the justice building, the say bye to their loved ones and board the train - her sister came in.

"y-y/n please you can't go .. please i need you .. i cant live by myself .. i- i don't know anything" she sobbed this out, as she hugged her sisters chest.

"awh it's ok, it doesn't really matter hon, you'll be fine, ok? i'll ask haymitch to make sure you're not starving n everything n it'll be finee" she said this as she patted the young girls head, oddly relaxed and optimistic in the face of this situation.

as the peacemakers tore the girl out of her arms, she seemed to still be smiling. the one on the left was a redhead, locks of his long hair sticking out of his mask, you could tell he had a fitter physique, he probably hot. the one on the left though, seemed older. he had a beer belly and reminded her of the men in the bar, she believes she's seen him before. he was quite handsome without his mask. she went with them willingly, following them down to the train station.

once she boarded the train, she examined the compartments. with luxury surrounding her, she felt like a princess.. a queen even. as she looked around, she saw the mahogany tables, the gold lined ceilings, the chandeliers, the fancy tiles on the roof, heads of animals hung on wall, porcelain vases with the prettiest designs on them, even a porcelain doll was on display. that doll something she was commonly associated with, "you look like a porcelain doll .. you're just gorgeous", a common comment she received. people calling her doll and dollface was something she was used to. the woman seemed to stare at the compartment in awe, as she saw even the display of liquor seemed to be held in crystal bottles. a little princess surrounded in luxury being sent to her imminent death, reminding her deeply of the story of marie antoinette, the magnificent and excessive former queen of france - the last queen of france, her spending having thrown the country off the rails.

the smile still lighting her face as she was forced to stand next to her dreadfully hideous district partner. she remembered him from the district when she waitressed in the bars and after her little "stunt" (his words) in the alley with the other even more dreadful man, he had mocked her for quitting her job. mocked her for how she did her hair and makeup, how she fiddled with the hem of her dress, how she loved flowers and indulged herself with naps in the meadow, he mocked her for her figure, mocked her for her face. he laughed at her eyes, how they seemed to be too deep, how he laughed at her when she was upset at attention from crude men, how he told her she was asking for it, telling her she was a whore and a slut. the man hated her deep in his soul, and she knew exactly why. as a waitress, she took tips, and the boy's dad was one of the more regular people at the bar. he tipped big, always giving her hundreds. too big for the people in the seam, where he lived. his dad had been giving away his salary to her, and his wife found out, causing her to demand a divorce. for splitting his parents, he always blamed her.

she sat down with a smile on her face, a little too close to her district partner for her own good, but she was happy. in that moment and in that hour, she was incomparably happy. she would get to remeet the man she had been lusting after for years, her savior and now mentor. maybe he would get the chance to save her again and maybe she could actually help him this time. her thoughts wandered as she looked into empty space dreamily, a smile on her face.

"stupid bitch" was something she heard from her district partner, the words not reaching her or bothering her. she was in her own little world, dreaming more than she should be able to in her pretty little head.

she was quickly snapped out of it, when her escort spoke.

"so pretty ! dear god you could be a model in the capitol ... i'm so excited to see what they do with you this year, darling!" her escort squeaked out, admiring the woman who seemed lost in her own head.

the woman was snapped out of her daydreaming state as she held the smile on her face, "you really think so? ive always wanted to be a model!", the excitement evident in her voice, beauty truly oozing out of her pores, as she seemed to glow.

"oh dear yes! those eyes ... that body .. those legs, honey! you could become a swimsuit model .. or maybe high fashion with that face .. so beautiful , unforgettable .. perfect." her escort seemed to be truly entranced with her, "i really hope they don't put you in those dreadful coal mining outfits again .. would really dull your shine!"

"oh those ... yea they suck but i remember once i saw this really pretty girl and she absolutely rocked it" the woman said this with such a smile on her face, as she seemed to dream.

"you're perfect! the perfect tribute! even when i was on stage .. i saw you in the crowd and i just thought 'oh my god..'! so happy i picked you this year, perfect victor." the escort seemed to be delighted. "now i wonder where abernathy is .. let me go check the bar car! you deserve to meet your mentor!"

as her escort scurried off, the man next to her tsked.

"jesus everyones obsessed with you, cant you just be normal for once?." his annoyance obvious in his words, as if his words weren't harsh enough.

the woman just rolled her eyes, not wanting to deal with the aggressive man's anger.

she pulled out a little flip mirror, as she checked her face. smudging out her eyeliner a little, making it look like a more cat-eyed look in opposition to what she had before. she pinched her lips and cheeks, refreshing the reddish tint that was there this morning. she ran her fingers through her hair, taming it.

she didnt expect it as the man grabbed her mirror, smashing it on the floor - right as the mentor and escort walked in.

this enraged the woman - that mirror was expensive.

"why the hell would you do that!" she hissed out, her voice pitching up in anger. she let out a few "ughh"s as she examined her now shattered mirror.

"sweetheart ..." said a familiarly grumpy voice, haymitch abernathy. she perked up as she stood and went in front of the man, squeaking out an excited "hi!" as she hugged him.

he was shocked by her hug, he had already gone through multiple glasses of the amber liquor in his cup and seemed too drunk to deal with this burst of affection, so he just ignored her.

he grumbled, "someones excited..", as he moved past her sitting down in her previous spot, next to her troll faced district partner.

she followed him and sat down directly across from him, with wide eyes as she seemed to genuinely glow in his presence.

he furrowed his eyebrows as he saw the doe eyed girl staring at him like he was everything, " if i didnt know better , i'd say you're hopelessly in love with me", he said this, chuckling at his own joke, taking another sip of his alcohol. she continue looking at him like she was utterly mesmerized by just his rough movements and his scruffy face.

the woman just let out a little giggle at that, unsure what to say.

he chuckled again as he said, "well i don't think i'm gonna make any progress with her today .. so, how about you." he said this, prying his attention away from the lovestruck beauty sitting across from him. to her distaste, he was looking at the absolutely hideous short gremlin that broke her mirror.

the man seemed to be caught off guard, in the middle of his probably really mean thoughts about the prettiest girl he'd literally ever seen, "huh?"

"jesus, we really have no luck with our tributes this year." haymitch said this, rolling his eyes, "what questions do you have for me?"

"oh um i- i don't know? i guess .. how did you win your games?" the stupid troll of a man replied, even she could've come up with a better response than that.

"was just smart", haymitch said this, shrugging off the question, clearly unpleased with it. "sweetheart, how about you go refill my drink for me?", as he directed his attention back to her.

she let out an "oh!" before she grabbed his glass, got up and walked over to the bar cart, "whiskey on the rocks right?", her voice ringing out of the room.

"whatever you want as long as its hard, hon" was his reply to her, as he looked back to her district partner as she got him a drink.

"i-is there any like general advice for the arena?" the younger man asked, still completely befuddled on what to ask his mentor.

"don't start a fire, don't go to the cornucopia, don't mess with the careers, find shelter and water, food won't matter as much" haymitch said this, as he saw the girl walk back into the compartment, a smile on her face, as she held his glass in one hand with a bottle of whiskey in the other. he let out a "thank you, sweetheart" as he flashed her a smile. she sat down, as he looked back at her district partner, "anything else?"

"whats the best shelter you could find in the games?" the woman said, the question seeming to dawn on her during that moment.

"finally a decent question.." he said this sitting up, and sipping from his drink as he saw the two tributes anticipating an answer, "either find high ground or somewhere underground, avoid bein out in the open." he hesitated a little before continuing this part, "you ..", he said as he pointed a finger at the girl, "you're gonna stand out like a sore thumb in whatever arena they put you in, sweetheart .. too pretty for your own good. make sure you find somewhere out of sight, now.. it's getting quite late, you two are gonna need your energy for tomorrow." he said this, as he stood up, stumbling a little. the girl immediately followed his movements, supporting the drunk man.

"don't have to .. 'm not that drunk", he said this.

"its fine, i wanna help you" she said this, still holding him. her response drew out a chuckle from his mouth.

as they walked to his room, the woman seemed to be ecstatic about being able to "help" haymitch like this, as they arrived to the room. "you can go now, hon." he said as she tried to follow him into his room.

"mm i'll go later, after you fall asleep n everything" she said, a little too eager

"sweetheart , i have to shower first, we'll be stuck together for most of tomorrow" he grumbled, as he pinched her cheek. she frowned in an exaggerated way, making a face at him.

"at least let me walk you inside?" she said, as a smile bloomed onto her face.

"how could i say no to a face like that?" he drawled, a little sarcastic as he did let her lead him into his room where he stumbled into his shower by himself.

as he didn't hear her leaving, he called out a wary "hon i know you're still there.", and her response to that was a squeak as she was caught off guard from being called out, as she walked out of his room. he undressed as he stepped into his shower, wondering why she seemed so attached to him .. not that he minded. she was gorgeous but he also acknowledged he was letting his guard down with her a little too fast, though he wasn't sure how he could not do that ... the prettiest girl he'd ever met seemed to be running around to try and tend to his every need, pouring his liquor, clinging to his arm. as he wet his sandy locks, he pondered a question. would she be able to stay alive ... could he keep her alive?

as he finished up his shower, he still peeked out of the bathroom a little cautiously, as to make sure the little minx wasn't still in his room, waiting for him to finish his shower. he dressed himself in whatever he could find, not actually going to sleep.

he went back out to the main room in their compartment, stealing bottles of whiskey from the table. he continued drinking later into the night, not actually being able to fall asleep until the later hours of the morning. the pretty girl remained on his mind, as he tried to drown out the idea of her imminent death and lack of chance in the arena. she was gorgeous but she definitely didn't look very strong. he didn't think she was a fighter, and he wasn't quite sure what she was. definitely gorgeous, but still, he didn't know how her little brain worked .. usually he could see the gears turning in someone's head as they were about to think up a question or something for him, but for her there was nothing, she seemed - in the nicest way possible - stupid. he looked into her eyes and there didn't seem to be a single thought floating around her head sometimes, but he knew there was something. he knew she wasn't stupid, she survived. he knew of her story, her parents, her sister, her history. he knew of how she was forced into exploiting men for a living, and he knew she could do it well, with the prettiest face and prettiest body he had seen, her voice a soft melody that seemed to bless the ears of whoever heard it, her gentle touch and her perfectly timed words. he knew she wasn't a woman who let herself be distressed, but a woman who still preferred to not get her hands dirty - not a killer.

her magnetism and how genuinely attractive she was would surely get her sponsors, just seeing her face would make men throw money at her. she knew how to speak, how to hold herself, and how to completely capture an audience. she without a doubt knew her cards and she knew how to play them, but being beautiful wouldn't win her the hunger games.

he eventually fell asleep, a light sleep, plagued by nightmares.

eventually, she and haymitch were the first ones awake.

she had set the table, taking a job from the avox, and she did it well and happily. haymitch had walked out in the middle of it, watching her as she worked, she still had a smile on her face. he wasn't sure what she was smiling about but her smile was pretty - and very contagious. after a few minutes, she realized he was there, greeting him with a "hi! good morning, the table's almost set so you can eat!"

once she finished up with setting the table, they both sat down. the avox served food, placing it down on the table. he saw she was hesitant to take it, and he asked, "not hungry?"

"oh um no, not really .. we never really had much to eat at home so im kinda just accustomed to not eating much, you know how that is?" she said, with her seemingly eternal smile as she sipped her orange juice.

"most of the kids are excited to eat capitol food." he said to her, as he put marmalade on his toast.

"well i mean it does look pretty good, i just dont really feel like eating it." she said, trying to "justify" herself.

"dont have to explain anything to me, sweetheart, i just think you should try to eat a little, gonna need energy for today." he said, as he bit into his toast. the woman who in contrast hadn't eaten anything, and looked a little uncomfortable at the table. he wondered if it was him but he also saw a change in her demeanor from yesterday.

she swallowed, as she barely said, "thank you for caring .. i guess i'll have some ..." she hesitated as she scanned the table, trying to decide what she wanted some of, "i'll just take a piece of ham!", she exclaimed this as she did pick a piece, eating a bit.

haymitch furrowed his eyebrows a little, her behavior and demeanor strange at the moment. but he decided just to ignore it, focusing on his toast.

"haymitch?" she called his name out of nowhere, catching his attention, "what are we gonna do today? we should be getting off right?"

he swallowed his mouthful of toast, "they'll just go clean you up a bit, trim your hair and everything then they'll send you off to your stylists for the parade.. don't worry about it too much, it'll just be some cosmetic things, i told them not to mess with your hair."

"oh thank god. i swear i would've knocked someone out if they tried to cut my hair," she joked, laughing awkwardly.

he smiled at her, wiping some jam off his beard before sipping his "tea", and continuing to eat his toast. "haven't touched your ham", he made the observation flustering the girl a little.

"oh well i mean i just, i guess i'm just not really hungry at all" she said, a smile he could tell she was forcing.

"are you like this back in the district too or is it just with capital food?" he joked, as he was getting drunk.

"i've never really been fond of eating, sometimes i forget .. doesn't really matter though", she said this smiling at him again. as her attention was directed towards her district partner coming out of his room. she didn't like basil - at all - but he was still her partner, and she was still grateful for him relieving the building tension in the room. haymitch didn't acknowledge the boy as he sat down, the girl just smiled at him.

he quickly scooped food onto his plate, a huge pile of eggs, bacon, and toast. she was still just sitting there watching them eat, while sipping on her orange juice.

no one really made conversation, up until basil asked another question about the games, " why shouldn't i start a fire?" he said, contradicting what haymitch had told them the night before.

"you shouldn't start a fire because the smoke is gonna give away your location." haymitch replied unhappily with a little bit of annoyance in his tone, trying to enjoy his toast and not make conversation with the other man.

"well what if i'm cold?" the idiot responded, stuffing his face with his mountain of food.

"if you're cold, you can deal with it. if you're dead, you'll be even colder." haymitch snapped, his tone insinuating he was done with the conversation.

"well i'm just saying i mean , dont you need a fire to cook food and keep warm?" basil asked, not seeming to understand what haymitch's tone was pointing to.

"fires make smoke and smoke tells people where you are, unless you're allied with the whole fucking arena, you're gonna get hunted down in the first five minutes." haymitch snapped, taking a long sip of his "tea".

"but what about food?" basil asked, continuing to eat his pile of eggs and meat.

"forage? you forage. get berries, leaves, whatever you can find that's edible?" haymitch growled, his tone making fun of the mans idiocy, "sweetheart.." he called, as he turned to her, "could you fill this with something?"

"oh of course," she said with a smile, having been watching the exchange between the man and her mentor. she took the cup and walked away, into the bar car to get him a drink. she'd only seen him drink whiskey but she couldn't find any so she just filled the cup with vodka instead, the clear liquor reflecting her face for just a second.

"here.. i couldn't find any whiskey so i just got vodka." her tone was a little apologetic, not wanting to irritate the man anymore.

"its fine, gorgeous, i don't mind either." he mused, smiling at her for just a second before resuming his attention on the younger man.

"what if we don't know how to forage?" her district partner asked after the exchange between the mentor and the lady was finished.

"what if you don't know how to forage, i know she does." he said, "her dandelion marmalade is probably one of the best things i've tasted, especially with her lavender sourdough bread and almond milk."

she smiled at how he remembered the exact contents of the little thank you basket she gifted him, "thank you..", she mumbled, as a blush grew on her cheeks.

"well, it doesn't matter how good she is at foraging if she can't even stand up without almost passing out .. cant even stop starving herself in the capital" basil spat out as if the mention of her was something disgusting.

"excuse me?" she said, the anger evident on her face.

"you heard me." he scowled.

the glar she shot at the man was a look of offense as she looked over to haymitch to see if he was gonna do anything, only to find haymitch looking down and focusing on his toast - not wanting any bit of her anger.

the woman sat still for a second, taking in the situation, trying to imagine the outcome of what she was about to do.

as she realized, haymitch wouldn't lay a hand on her, and basil wouldn't fight back immediately, she was safe to do what she wanted.

and with that, she leaned across the table, her fist charging at the boys nose, making contact almost immediately- everything happening too fast for anyone to react. she herself, seemed shocked at what she had done, hearing a loud snap that she knew wasn't her first. she had broken his nose.

"jesus.." haymitch grumbled, as he realized what happened. he sat up and looked over at the boy, "ehh your nose is probably broken .. you'll be fine.", still generally not caring about it.

haymitch had partially expected her to do something, not that but something.

"well .. at least we know you can throw a punch." he remarked, filing the silence as basil whimpered and she looked at him with wide eyes - regret mixed with her tears.

"gotta be kidding me.." he scowled, seeing her tears fill her eyes, he sighed as he told her it was fine as her tears fell.

after a few minutes or so, after she stopped crying and basil stopped bleeding, haymitch broke the silence again.

"gonna need a refill, sweetheart", he managed to deliver, with a hicupp.

"of course.. " she sniffled, as regret seemed to etch her face.

he just waved her off, he didn't really blame her for her violent outburst, to be fair - if he didn't know better, and if he was a little younger, and he heard the man make that comment to her, it would've been haymitch launching himself across the table instead of the woman.

she came back with a refill of his drink, which he took a long sip from.

"now. you two are going to stop arguing, stop fighting, and let me eat my toast in peace. you-" he scowled this as he pointed at basil, "stop whining, and you-" he said, pointing at her. he hesitated before speaking, as if trying to think of something to tell her to do before he seemed to just give up, not being able to find a criticism for her "fix the crying thing, they'll destroy you in the arena if you're always sniffling like that."

haymitch had only a few minutes to finish his toast, because right as he did, their escort squealed out a "we're almost there! thats the capitol!", as she got up to look out the window, pointing it out.

the younger woman raced to the window to see, as her tears evaporated and the smile that never seemed to leave her face grew wider. as they passed through a tunnel and ended up in the train station, she saw hundreds of capitol citizens waiting for tribute trains.

the woman was in her own little world and she waved, blowing kisses and smiling at the citizens, her beauty causing them to go haywire with cheers they could hear even in the compartment, as people seemed to adore her, she smiled before blowing one final kiss and ducking under the window. a look in her eyes like she had just achieved every single dream in her world as she slumped on the sofa, she was beaming. euphoria evident on her face, she sat up to see haymitch with a smile just like hers (thought a bit of annoyance still etched on his face over the very unpeaceful breakfast he just had), her district partner with a look of hatred and disgust on his face, and her escort beaming just like her.

"really hope you win this year ! too pretty to die .." her escort muttered, as the train skidded to a stop.

they all stood up as she shuffled over to haymitch's side, clinging onto the arm that didn't have a drink in his hand.

haymitch huffed again, a little annoyed but not too upset. "you two are gonna be escorted to 2 different cars with your stylists, they'll work on your hair and stuff, then you'll be shipped off to clothing for the tribute parade later tonight."

"mm.. really sorry for what happened.." the woman nodded, seemingly once again looking up at him like a wide eyed baby, as if the disappearance of food and her district partner eased her.

"crowds gonna go insane if they see you coming out like this, sweetheart." he told her, ignoring her apology and taking a swig from his flask, letting out a hiccup.

she was odd when she was stressed once she was relaxed though, she was seemingly pleasant. smiles all over and seemingly overtaken by little daydreams. haymitch wanted to help her, wanted to see her walk out of the games victorious. he let his thoughts wander like that as they both exited the train, hand in hand, causing the crowd to go absolutely insane as he anticipated. he didn't make many media appearances and she was probably the prettiest tribute ever.

ummm this is around 6k words .. went a little crazy !! but i love writing for haymitch sooo

ewww u guys the personalities are so inconsistentttt mbbb

haymitch is so demeaning to her too so im planning to give them both some major character development where haymitch realizes shes not js some hot bimbo n starts respecting her cs she proves it

but then as he realizes that, she starts losing her mind as shes training / prepping where her mental state is super unstable, so shes gonna have like a psychotic break once she gets into the arena

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 5: The Young Elf

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.1k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ you work to recover from the previous night of celebration and meet a new patient in the sick hall.

Your vision was blurry upon opening your eyes. You felt your brain being pounded within your skull and your body ached. You let out a soft whine and rolled over in your bed, the soft sheets offering little comfort. The room was still fairly dark, with only a few candles lit. The memories of the night prior were hazy. You remember going to the party, but soon after your second drink, it all became incomprehensible. It was all a haze of music, candlelight, and dance. 

It must have taken you an hour to will yourself out of bed, the only motivation being a pitcher of water that was placed all the way in the living space. It had forced you to get out of bed all so you could quench your thirst. You found yourself sitting on one of the couches, nursing a cup of water when Amara and Liriel skipped into the room. 

They wore happy faces and presented no visible signs of wear from the party. It was as if they did not drink and dance heavily, but rather got a full night of rest. It was likely due to their experience - who knows how many times they had done that in their lives. 

“Good morrow, dear friend.” Amara sang happily while opening the curtains to your room. The light from torches and fireflies outside - which happened to be surprisingly bright - invaded your room. You could do nothing but grunt in response and hold a hand out to block the light from your eyes. 

“Well, you are taking it surprisingly better than I thought,” Liriel stated as she placed a tray of food on the table, “For the amount that you drank, I was sure you would be on the brink of death.” 

“Really?” You responded with a thick coat of sarcasm. It felt like you were dead already. You reached out and grabbed a slice of bread. It was an elvish bread and you had come to deeply love them over your stay. The emptiness in your stomach hurt and you were glad to eat. 

“Get some food in you and you’ll be better. You’re the talk of the castle today.” At Amara’s words, you dropped the piece of bread and looked at her with alertness in your eyes. 

“Please tell me I did not do anything stupid or embarrassing.” You crossed your fingers in a silent prayer. It would be awful if you had done anything bad, as your actions may be taken to represent all humans. You did not want to carry the weight of the image of humanity in front of such esteemed beings. 

“Not bad, on the contrary. Everyone is praising your ability to handle elven wine. It is an impressive feat.” Amara reassured you. 

You raised one brow before gesturing to your slumped body, “Does this look like someone who is handling it well?” 

“Oh, be thankful they are speaking highly of you.” Liriel laughed as she began to look through your wardrobe. 

“I’d much rather have my work praised, than my ability to handle my cups.” You reasoned as you ate a few more pieces of fruit. Amara had gone to your vanity to select jewelry. 

“Then you best get ready for the day.” Liriel turned around with a dress in her grasp and laid it out on the settee in front of you. Your eyes trailed over the light sage fabric. It had a silk underside with some sort of tulle layering on top. It looked like the dress you had worn on your first day there, but a much better colour. You gave Liriel a gracious smile at her selection and rose to your feet to change.

You had hoped to gain your bearings before leaving your room. However, after leaving, you had only just begun to feel better. The pounding in your head had subsided, but the aches in your joints from the hours of dancing still affected you. Your footsteps echoed across the stone hall as two guards escorted you through the caste. Before your morning rounds with the patients, you had to pick up some books from the library that you found the other day. The guards opened the doors and allowed you to enter without their presence. 

You were so wrapped up in your task and struggling to recover from your night that you failed to notice the figure sitting at one of the tables, flipping through a large ornate book. You walked past them while rubbing your eyes. Once at the shelf you needed, you grabbed the three books and stacked them in your arms. Their weight felt heavier than you expected, but you recovered easily and moved to turn back. Your gaze swept across the wide-ranging room before it settled on a body in a seat. His back was to you and facing the entrance door. 

His long silver hair draped pin straight down his back and you could see the top half tied up. A familiar strap of leather banded around his head, which you knew belonged to his eyepatch. His back was broad and he had on a leather tunic dyed a rich dark green. His sword was strapped to his side and rested on the bench with him. You cursed yourself for having such luck. Out of all of the libraries in this castle, Aemond had to choose the one that happened to be right next to your study. Of course your luck would be so rotten.  

You took in a breath. Perhaps you could quietly make your way out of the library. You did not wish to disturb the king in whatever task he was enraptured with. Your hold on the books tightened as you moved to swiftly and quietly vacate the area. You passed by him with your gaze down on the floor. 

Lately, however, your victories seemed to be short-lived. 

“Do you think you are here to drink your weight in wine?” His smooth voice drawled out right as you had managed to reach up for the door handle. Your fingers squeezed the air in a desperate attempt to calm yourself. You spun on your heels, only to regret it immediately by the temporary loss of vision. The ache in your head returned. Aemond sat a few metres in front of you. He was staring down at the pages of parchment below him. His agile fingers swept at the page and turned it. 

“No, your grace. I was simply being cordial, having been invited to it by his grace Prince Ageon.” You defended. It was true, Aegon extended a branch your way and you decided to seize it. You had not planned to drink, but you were an incredibly curious person and succumbed to the curiosity of what their wine tasted like. 

“It is not a surprise Aegon would do that. Again, do not forget the task set forth on you.” Aemond had not bothered to spare you a single glance yet. His focus largely was on the book at his table. 

The ache in your head worsened and you wanted nothing but to escape, but you knew you had to be cordial to the king, “I am thankful for this opportunity and take it seriously. I will be here for a year, so I thought it best to forge friendships.” Your response seemed to elicit a dry chuckle from the elf. 

“Friends with…” He finally looked at you, piercing you with the intensity of his eye, “your kind? You are nothing more than an oddity to them right now, a silly little human way in over her head. As soon as they are bored of you, you will be nothing again. They have forgotten the threats your kind poses.” 

It was likely the effects of your aching body that caused you to stick up just slightly for yourself, “If I am nothing but a silly little human in over her head, what threat do I truly pose, your grace?” While your words had been aggressive, you coated them in the most flattering voice you could muster; the call of an innocent animal hiding their violence. 

Aemond regarded you for a moment as you stood there. You adjusted the weight of the books in your hands. He still was giving you a look that deeply unsettled you. You felt like a bug under his gaze, though you knew he would not treat you as gently as Helaena does to her insects. Aemond would not hesitate to squash you under his foot. 

“All humans are a threat.” His voice came out strained, edged with spite and some other unheard charge akin to a lament. You stood strong against the battering waves of his blue-eyed stare; the oceans within his iris in constant turbulence. You had no recourse for his words and could not choose a path to take. To your great relief, tinged with an ounce of disappointment, Aemond appeared unwilling to speak further. His attention went back to the book in front of him and you took that as an opportunity to leave. 

Why, out of all the libraries in this castle, did he choose the one by your work? 

His figure consumed your mind as you walked a short distance to the laboratory you shared with Daeron. Aemond was, in some ways, a walking contradiction to the stories you grew up with. There was truth in the mutterings of his immoral attitude and penchant for aggression. Yet, you had not seen any physical aggression so talked about. His paragon of brutality was unseen. 

Aemond was calm and calculating, his refrain from violence you had seen so far instilled a greater fear within. If he was like the stories - quick to barbarity - you could count on that predictability. It would be comforting in a sense, to place your bet on wanton aggression. Men, regardless of human or elf, could be counted on for that predictable nature. 

However, he had not shown you his hand in whatever game he was playing. In Aemond’s cunning sense, there was no predictability. It frightened you, to be at the mercy of nothing short of an enigma. You could not place a bet on what he will do and what he is capable of. Sure, you can rely on the stories, but they have already proven to ring with some semblance of inaccuracy. You began to doubt even your own memory. 

In your contemplation, you had dropped the books off in the laboratory and swung into the sick hall to make your rounds with the patients. You carried your notebook with you, along with a fitted bag at your waist to carry any small utility item that could be needed to help the sick elves. You had realized that elf physiology is surprisingly much like humans - minus the ability to live for multiple millenniums. 

You had begun your move through the rows of countless beds. At each one, you sat with the elf and recorded their symptoms to keep track of their progression. To the ones you were able to, you administered some pain relief. Unfortunately, for those who had been sick for long, no type of pain relief would do them any good. 

In your rounds, you moved to a bed with a new patient. It was a young elf. Though likely centuries old, she appeared as a child. Her hair was as golden as the light of the lanterns in the room, but oily from the relentless sweat caused by a fever. Her skin showed obvious signs of taint progression. Its glass-like appearance was underscored by intermingling cracks. Dark purple, near black, tint washed over the skin, with some areas more concentrated than others giving the appearance of bruises. 

She was the youngest you had seen in your time here. 

Something in you never even thought about the possibility of younger elves getting it. That was not a place your mind wandered to and you had gotten used to treating the older elves. Your heart ached at such a youthful being having their life slowly drained. 

You moved towards the bed to see her, “Hello,” You introduced yourself before standing next to her laying form, “I have not been granted the pleasure of meeting you yet.” You kept your voice kind and cheerful to ease the emotions of the young elf. The little girl slowly turned her head in your direction. Despite her weakened state, the girl looked cheerful. 

“I’m Lyra,” She paused to cough, “You’re a human.” Lyra’s voice was gentle, with notes that sounded like windchimes on a calm day. 

“Yes, I am. I’m here to help.” You sat at the edge of the bed and reached out for a bowl of water and a cloth. You moved the rag through the water and got rid of the excess water. The back of your hand rested on her forehead. Lyra was burning up. You laid the cloth down where your hand had been and she let out a breathless sigh of relief. 

“You look like an angel.” Lyra’s words were covered in the haze of a fever, but you took them to heart. This whole time, being surrounded by naturally beautiful beings, you had begun to feel worse about your appearance. There was something so pure and true when the words came from such an innocent child. 

“That is kind, especially from a girl as pretty as you.” You watched as the corners of Lyra’s mouth rose faintly. She was in obvious pain, but taking it with graceful strength. 

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Her question was so abrupt that it halted your movements as you tended to adjust the blanket over her. You paused, unsure of how to handle the situation. With all of your other patients, they understood their time was limited. The taint only spread to bodies through openings and you wondered what could have happened for a little elf such as Lyra to be infected. 

“I and the other healers are working towards a cure, you need not worry, darling.” While not a direct answer, it was sufficient enough to get Lyra to rest her head back down against her pillow and close her eyes. You backed away to allow her to sleep and went about aiding the other sick elves. 

During your rounds, your eyes kept wandering back to Lyra’s form. You were plagued with an even heavier burden. Your goal had been clear for many years, to find a cure. However, there was always an air of impersonality in your work. While the driving force had been to help people and carry on your father’s work, your motivation was still disconnected. The taint - other than destroying the lands of your kingdom - had never deeply affected you personally. 

With Lyra, you felt perhaps the same driving force your father did. He worked to help, but mainly to make sure you had a future. You saw that same sense of need to safeguard that future when looking into Lyra’s eyes. While old from a human perspective, she was a young elf who had barely begun her life. Your father wanted a future for you, you wish to provide the same for her. 

After a few hours of menial tasks in upkeep for the patients, you found yourself in the laboratory. In your hands was a simple vial, lilac and gleaming with specs of light. It was a newer version of your previous concoction that proved to be of little success. There was a hope - in fiddling with the ratios of ingredients - that it could be more effective than the last. 

You looked down upon a sample of taint kept in a glass case. It was a bundle of flowers and weeds that had lost their colour of life, covered in the black mould and goo so familiar. You tilted the vial in your hand and allowed a few drops to spill upon the sample. You took a step back and watched as nothing happened. Your eyebrows furrowed.

You were overcome with frustration and anger. The events of your stay, your inability to make progress, and the new added weight of the reality of lives on your shoulders caused you to boil over. You let out a grunt and slammed your firsts on the table. 

Just as you expressed your anger, Daeron strolled into the room. He saw your actions and raised his hands in feigned surrender. 

“Surely the table did not deserve such violence,” He joked. You glanced up at him and felt the ache in your hands from striking the wood so fiercely. You rubbed your knuckles and could see some skin was scratched off, but not enough to require any special attention. 

“I tried messing with the ratios of that last experiment. It did not make it any better, on the contrary.” You voiced. 

Daeron walked to where you stood and picked up the vial. He inspected it for a moment. “You tried, that is what matters. If it's any consolation, none of mine have been as successful as yours was.” He patted you on the shoulder and you sent him a look of appreciation. 

“Thank you, but I think I am going to spend the day doing more research.” You wanted to leave the laboratory. The walls felt like they were closing in on you and you could not bear to look at any more ingredients, vials, or damned samples of tainted nature. It was a curse, a plague on you. 

Daeron spoke, “Go on, I have some of my ideas to work on.” You backed away from the table and turned to your right to leave the room. Your hand gripped the wrought iron door handle with extra strength as you yanked it open and found yourself in the ever-familiar hallway. 

Despite being given the limited freedom of your room, laboratory, library, and sick hall, this place began to feel more and more like a prison. Your adventure into another area of the castle last night to attend the party was allowed, but you doubted your freedom could extend beyond that. 

You felt guilty, for thinking so negatively about a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, but the whole castle felt like a gilded cage. It was beautiful, there was no denying that. This kingdom, with its connection to nature and elevated lifestyle, was beyond what you could dream of and served as a trap for you. On the one hand, you relished in the good parts, but on the other, you knew this would never be a home. 

You would never belong here. Your humanness, the mortality that came with it, will only be nothing but a blink in time for these people and their kingdom. Unless you found a cure, there would be nothing left but the faint memories of your form walking down these halls. Eventually, it would be lost to the annals of time. 

How fickle a human life was when compared to the immortality of nature.

Chapter 6: A Snake in the Garden Preview

Like a cloud blocking the sun, a body stood just behind your kneeled figure and blocked the light from the lanterns strung above. You ceased yourself from cutting a leaf from a plant and turned around. An elf stood, his eyes piercing you with simmering hatred. You recognized him from just a few short days prior. It was the same elf that had been walking beside Aemond when you passed him in the hall. His skin looked sunkissed, despite there being little sun that actually penetrated through the canopy of trees. His dark hair matched the darkness of the deep forest beyond the settled lands. 

He was altogether the embodiment of the elvish characteristic of beauty, but there was something wrong about the energy he gave off; it was almost predatorial.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

taglist: @izzicle @arriettys-song @ggukiespace @wasntpriscilla @marielahurtado @shamelessblazecrown @peachysunrize @lolliespocketfullofpollies @lanadragon04 @kokosg @sinistersnakey @Aemondtargaryenwifey @m-riaa @sarcasticwitch11 @coriellesmarya @simpinonyouz @scrumptiousloser @gcdofchaos @whorrorbellee

[ashyam-xivilai]

You'll get to meet the big blueberry far more often ;)

And we still have to do "funny mirror tricks" don't we?

A bit more about:

Xyanthazarax ''The Unbound''

Xivilai from Coldharbour

Intersex, but uses feminine or gender neutral pronouns (doesn't mind masculine ones either)

Hates subordination and being bossed around, will react with violence if not given enough freedom and respect. For this attitude, she has received harsh and humiliating punishments very often. At some point, something snapped inside of her and Xyanthazarax decided it was time to leave Coldharbour. However, Molag Bal's cruelties have left their mark on her and she is haunted by memories of her torment. As a result, she hates Molag Bal with a passion.

Despite being commonly seen as a big brute, Xyanthazarax can be surprisingly introspective.

Likes long walks through desolate and dangerous landscapes. Also likes cloud gazing.

Formed a strong bond with a clannfear, whom she protects and cares for.

Loves snow

[helloliriels]

GIFT WRAPPED

Gifts are meant to be shared! 💝and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one these lovely gifts! THANK YOU BUNCHES FOR MAKING MY YEAR BETTER!!! 💋- Liriels

2023

💝 Of Scars and Revelations by @catlock-holmes for Holmestice Winter 2023 (I MaDe A BaNnEr FoR YoU!!!)

Sherlock has returned from his presumed death, but he isn't the same he used to be, after experiencing torture and trauma. His friendship with John isn't the same either, can they rekindle their friendship, or maybe even become something completely new? Maybe a stay at a hotel after a case could help them rediscover their bond. LOVE THIS SO MUCH !!!! 💖😍🎁 John & Sherlock finally GeT SoMe!!!! (SleEp ThaT iS!!!) haha, baths, only one bed, hurt/comfort, with plenty of feELs!!! 💋

🎁 Human Urges by @topsyturvy-turtely

John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. Despised himself for it ... That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed!

💝 The Case of the Serial Secret Admirer by @hasenkind687

It is seven days until Valentine's day. Humbuk - if you ask Sherlock. But then, anonymous gifts appears!

🎁 "John what the bloody hell are you doing?" by Atrocious_Magpie

Sherlock catches John baking cookies while listening to abba, what do you think happens next?

💝 This perfect JOHNLOCK IMAGE for 'It Belongs in a Museum', made by @a-victorian-girl

2022

🎁 Live from the Morgue by @disfictional from Holmestice Winter 2022. (i MaDe A BaNnEr FoR YoU!!!) 💀🎙️tysm!!!

A very special podcast episode 'Live from the Morgue' with Molly Hooper, featuring guest star Sherlock Holmes, discussing his years away (playing dead) - while John listens ...

💝 Mrs. Hudson's Crack Brew by @chriscalledmesweetie for 2022 Year of the Crack Fic!

Mrs. Hudson is beginning to regret the part she played in bringing Sherlock and John together. Not to put too fine a point on it, those boys are LOUD. Can she find a way to make things better? Or will she only make them worse? It all depends on your perspective…

🎁 Knitting Needles Out by @fluffbyday-smutbynight

Knitting. How hard could it be? Pretty hard, as it turned out. Especially cable knitting.

💝 This lovely GIF collab made by @liquor-liquor-lips for 'pack up the moon, and dismantle the sun' quote by WH Auden & all the reichenbach feels. 💋

2021

🎁 Shared Proximity by @fluffbyday-smutbynight for Holmestice Open Promptfest Winter 2021

“As ever, you see but you do not observe. Our respective lives are so enmeshed together, that such labels - like flatmates or colleagues or, yes, even friends - evidently fall short. Partners might do it, and it’s not a coincidence that it’s a stand-in for couple.”A definition might prove necessary, but still not enough in itself. What's the next step?

💝 (Full) Contact With Nature by @fluffbyday-smutbynight

Sherlock puts all his weight on him pushing him back on the ground, and simultaneously catches John’s arms and pins them down ...

🎁 A Story of Scent by maelle_lardeux & 💝Un affaire de sentur by malle_lardeux (french translation) 🥰 for @ohlooktheresabee & me

It's amazing how smells can affect people's emotions, in a good or bad way.C’est incroyable comment les odeurs peuvent affecter les émotions des personnes, d’une bonne ou d’une mauvaise façon.

🎁 The Mystery of the Red Pants by @simplyclockwork for Holmestice Summer 2021

A few spectacular laundry mishaps lead to revelations between Sherlock and John - and maybe a bit more ...

💝 Practice Date by Fantasy_Fan_26 (so brilliant!)

Sherlock wants to go on a date with John to figure out his feelings, but doesn't want to be rejected, this is the plan he comes up with ...

OMG I love them all!!!

Plus these translated fics 💖:

🎄Шерлок – это женское имя [Sherlock is a Girl's Name] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami 🎄Бутылочка [Spin the Bottle] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami 🎄Таксофон [Payphone] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami  🎄Эксперименты по проводимости [Experiments in Conductivity] translated by Little_Unicorn 🎄【福华福】[授翻]Kiss Me Now Before You Go／离开前请吻我 translated by 十��横夏 [Whale_Juan] 🎄Dawno utracone [Long Lost] translated by Tulippa 🎄Помни меня [Remember Me] translated by Little_Unicorn

Is there anything better than a fandom gift??

[mcnstercus]

closed starter - alina & liriel ( @lirielelwyn )

"Sara, this is Nurse Elwyn," she said to the small two year old when her sister met her in the room. Alina helped the child get admitted as she was dehydrates due to her and her mother had the flu. Her mother was one of Alina's patience herself, eight months pregnant. Alina knew that there would be a lot less stress on her if Alina helped out with the toddler too. "She's just going to put a little tube in your arm so that we can get you all better. I promise that she's really good at it."

[alma-amentet]

No one tagged me, as usual, but I feel bored and lonely (also as usual), so let’s go.

Do you play an instrument?

Used to dabble with the guitar and sing in the past... It was so long ago. Now I don’t - have no time.

Favorite book characters?

Serafina Pekkala from His Dark Materials 

(HDM is one of my fav book series ever. I never liked Harry Potter - read just two books, wasn’t interested much and gave up. But this... This is love, for sure. You can tell where I took my Tarnished’s name - Lyra).  

Liriel Baenre (Elaine Cunningham’s books are also love. As much as I’m not into Salvatore and others, I love her stories)

What's your star sign?

Cancer. I also have ascendent it Scorpio, and always note it because I don’t like general characteristics for Cancer. Like, shy and quiet people who like to stay at home, care for others, inclined to have a big family... They usually don’t care about their style\appearance. That’s definitely not me. Though yes, I may be shy and anxious and staying indoors, mostly due to mental problems. I’m also a show-off. And never wanted a traditional family - like, with children.

Favorite color scheme?

Green and brown. 

Teal or torquise and gold (remind me of Ancient Egypt, there was a time I was pretty much fond of Egyptology)

Naps or long sleep?

Long sleep. It’s really hard for me to sleep during day, even if I’m tired or sick. So I’d rather have good night sleep.

What languages do you speak?

English and one other one.

I tried learning German, then French... Gave up and forgot most things.

Dreams/aspirations?

For now, I just want to feel better, happier, more inspired than I am now. That’s all. If I have enough energy, I may make more particular plans, but not now 

Also I’d like to improve my drawing skills. To do that more efficiently, I need to learn to concentrate better. 

Short or long hair?

I love long hair, but growing it and caring for it is pain... Mine never grew well, so I gave up long time ago. Also I love bright fancy colors (also I’m early gray. Started getting gray since 13, and now in my 30s I have hair grayer than my 70 yo mother. Yeah, that happens).

So I prefer wigs or other extensions. Currently I have gray synthetic DE-dreads, this way I can look stylish and not like a dull old lady, with no need to dye.

Tea or coffee?

Wine! lol 😏

If there’s none, then probably tea. I’m not a big fan of hot drinks, don’t drink them too much.more often I prefer just water

Bring a fictional character to life or go into a fictional world?

Go to fictional world. The reason I like fantasy is because I need to escape it, not a fan of modernverses. And if I try to imagine some modernverse, the characters are... weirder, geeks and fantasy nerds like myself, who are still more like portal-travellers than just people next door.  

Not tagging anyone. 

[rukafais]

i heard liriel's better written than drizzt but that came from drizzt haters so i wanted to ask your opinion as someone reading his prequels and eyeing her trilogy?

I think Liriel is very solid, and certainly the most well-written of Elaine Cunningham's works, though it has some odd tropes that Drizzt avoids...the most egregrious one off the top of my head is the tendency to, at least in the first book, have pretty much every drow dude except her dad want to sexually assault her or be attracted to her in some way; for example, her old male tutor is implied to be a lecher who's kind of got the hots for her, and one of the main antagonists, a Vhaeraunite, keeps a harem of surface elf women and wants Liriel for himself so he can uh. Put babies in her.

“Then you will lead the search to find her,” the wizard told him smoothly. “However, you are not to kill her. She is too important for that, both for the magic she wields and the children she may bear to follow Vhaeraun. You know the importance of bringing drow females into the Night Above. I will not have her destroyed.” Gorlist scowled.

“There are more ways than one to humble the little princess,” Nisstyre said softly. “I want this female for Vhaeraun, and for my own pleasure, but I am not averse to sharing. In time, you shall have your revenge.”

A lot of the weirder shit I object to is kind of like, stuff you find out either if you're reading books that are not Liriel OR you're reading the absolutely bonkers shit Elaine says as an author about her books or about DnD worldbuilding.

There's an odd tendency sometimes for characters to simply forget about other characters once they're out of the story too imo but that doesn't affect Liriel...that much. BUT the Liriel books themselves are pretty solid!

I think to an extent Liriel works best as a companion piece to Drizzt, as they're in direct conversation with each other. Much of Gromph's characterisation that forms the base for his stuff in later Drizzt books started here, and Liriel's perspective as a scion of the First House with an actual social life offers some valuable insights on what it's like for priestesses with more social standing and the usual conditions at Arach-Tinilith.

As for it being better (or worse, i guess) than drizzt, it's a silly comparison for people to make. Liriel was made to be as different from Drizzt as possible so it's apples to oranges. The two authors have different writing styles and different goals in that writing. I certainly prefer Drizzt more, but Liriel's books were pretty good regardless.