#I AM ACTUALLY ELMO ON FIRE ABOUT THIS

[steddie-island]

So I saw this post, and it reminded me that I kept meaning to go look up what else Mr. Paradox has been in because he just looked so familiar to me.

AND??? OH MY FUCKING GOD???

MR. PARADOX??? THIS MOTHERFUCKER???!

IS FUCKING ALSO?????

THIS MOTHERFUCKER?!!!!

SCREAMING!!!

CRYING!!!

THROWING UP!!!

[sbrn10]

C3E23

C3E63

C3E76

C3E85

C3E86

C3E89

[platinumshawnn]

Bound by Blood and Fire — Benjicot Blackwood x Tully!oc (pt ii)

A/N: hi! I really dragged my heels on writing this next part because I love to procrastinate. I actually cut a scene from this because it was already running pretty long. Also a *brief* little masturbation scene randomly weaseled its way in there, lol sorry. Content warning??? I did my best to proofread but I probably missed stuff, also please know that I’m aware Oscar is a brunette in the show, he’s a redhead in the books ✨

Synopsis: Elmo and Oscar Tully arrive at House Blackwood to be debriefed on the finalized terms of Serra’s and Benjicot’s betrothal. Tensions among the houses rise as Serra receives support from her father and yields to giving Benjicot a chance. As their engagement is announced to the other houses, news of murders in King’s Landing highlights the broader conflict looming over them.

General content warnings: MDNI — 18+, adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism and gender based harassment/discrimination, sexual content, mild depictions of family based violence, implied suicide ideation.

Word count: 8.8k

BBF Masterlist

backward

Serra Tully could only describe Benjicot Blackwood as repulsive if she had to use one word — the kind that made her nauseous, gray in the face sick at the very idea of him.

"To my dear Lady Serra, who I am told, has a tongue as sharp as her needlework. Pray, let's hope she proves as skilled with her wifely duties as she is with her embroidery."

His voice, paired with that stupid smile haunted her as she lay down in bed that night, struggling to find sleep with her eyes stuck to the ceiling. Paired with brother’s laughter, the comment was more horrifying as her face burned with embarrassment — if it were possible, she would have left right then and there; packed her belongings back up, and returned to Riverrun. But she knew that upon arrival, her father would have been furious and only dragged her back. 

“Have you no honor?” Her father would sigh, frustrated and red in the face. 

Even with all the pleading and reasoning, this was not something she could talk her father out of -- this wasn’t some feast, some meeting of the Lords. This was a marriage pact that he and Kermit had meticulously planned out and negotiated, and there was no amount of foot-stomping or yelling she could do to undo that. At some point during her sleepless night, haunted by the smug grin of Benjicot, did she consider the idea of running away and living in the trees -- but she had no survival skills for the wild and knew she wouldn’t last a week out there. She had considered fleeing to the North, but from the stories she had heard of its cold, harsh winters, she knew she wouldn’t thrive there. And King’s Landing had become no man’s land and she didn’t want to be stuck there during these times. It would only be a matter of days before her father and brothers somehow heard of her presence there, either way and would have her dragged right back. 

The only comforting thought would be the arrival of her family, despite her anger towards her oldest brother and father, she felt it would be of comfort to at least have a face around that she recognized. And Oscar -- her dear, little brother Oscar would at least be neutral and she could convince herself someone was at least on her side. 

She had only been lucky to catch brief bouts of sleep, lasting no more than a half hour each time before she was startled awake by a shout from the distance; once again, awake and staring at the ceiling, before she was roused by a young girl who looked about her age as the sun rose. Its light streamed in through the windows, bringing with it warmth, a nice break in the dreary weather that had been terrorizing the Riverlands for weeks. 

She had dressed with assistance from the same girl whose name she had learned was Grace, her gaze out on the fields and limbs heavy with exhaustion, needing several reminders to lift her arms or to move throughout the process. As she had finished dressing, she was summoned for breakfast, nodding feebly and barely audible as she thanked Grace, before the young blonde girl had nodded and withdrew from her room. She wasn’t even hungry, but she went regardless. 

Still, even at breakfast, as she poked at the eggs on her plate that had been paired with fish, did she imagine what would happen if she were to flee. Would anyone notice? If so, how long of a heads-start would she get before they came searching for her? Would they even search for her? Or would they just accept things as they were and betroth one of her younger cousins to Benjicot in her place? She wondered who it would be if they did, maybe Rose? Elisa? Elisa, even at the tender age of ten-and-four was already beautiful, with her long blonde her and light eyes, an exuberant young woman…

“My lady?” 

Her head snapped up to where another young guard stood opposite of her at the other end of the table, staring at her. Her gaze instinctively scanned down the length of him, a habit to observe that she had — young and handsome in the face, Serra wondered if it was just custom at Raventree that the staff and its people were all striking and easy on the eyes. He stood silent, waiting before he spoke again upon a receiving a simple hum and raise of her brows in acknowledgment, “Your father and brother have arrived. They are in the yard if you would like me to take you to them.” He said, voice deep and smooth as velvet. 

Her gaze dropped to her plate, her stomach churning in rejection at the thought of eating anything more than the three bites she had managed to take. She nodded, standing from her seat with a loud drag of the heavy chair, removing the napkin she had placed in her lap and dropping it over the plate. Folding her hands at her abdomen, she walked around the chair and table to approach the young guard who watched her movements, “Yes, please.” She softly said. 

He turned with a curt nod in her direction, only a few paces ahead as he led her through the doors and into the halls, the walls of the keep otherwise silent aside from their footsteps as they walked out the front doors. He led her down the steps, heading towards the gardens onto a path where they turned right onto, before soon met by the familiar sight of the back of her younger brother’s head; his red hair shone in the sun, dressed in his finer clothes with his back to her as he spoke to another guard, gesturing to the pastures that stretched out for miles. With a nod to the guard who stopped abruptly, she offered a hushed ‘thank you’ before hurrying past him. 

“Oscar!” She called, his head whirling towards her voice. 

A smile lit up his face at the sight of her, apologizing to his companion. He hurried towards her, a brisk walk as he reached out to meet her hands that stretched out towards him, relief washing over her as she tore her hands from his and hugged him.

“Sister?” He laughed, obviously confused by the sudden gesture. 

Though Oscar did not push her away or even cringe away from the gesture, instead awkwardly embracing her with a pat on her shoulder, she sensed his confusion. She pulled away, met by his curious gaze, sighing, “It is good to see you again.” She said, taking one of his hands in hers, “It is good to have a face I recognize here.” She admitted. 

Oscar let out a breath, chuckling and squeezing her hand, “It is good to see you too.” 

“Come, walk with me.” She said, dragging him around as she walked past him and grabbing his elbow with her right hand, “Tell of your journey. How are things back home?” She asked, excitedly as bright eyes stared at her brother, giddy. Oscar laughed once more and allowed her to lead, walking alongside her as they followed the path away from the house. 

“It has only been two days.” He said, teasing her. 

“It feels as though it has been weeks.” She said, waving him off with her free hand. 

His nose scrunched with a smile, rolling his eyes at her theatrics. They walked, her gaze on his face, more than happy to hear of anything but her engagement for the first time in days. He caught her up on the events that had transpired in her short time away, everything down to an alleged spotting of Brackens at the borders between lands; hiding in bushes, but that their cousin and his friends had seen them. A fleet of Blackwood men had pushed them back and issued a warning, according to her brother. She hummed, nodding along and smiling brightly as they walked, content to get out of the cursed walls of Raventree; it almost felt as though nothing had changed and the whole betrothal was nothing but a nightmare. She could have even convinced herself this whole trip was nothing more than just a friendly drop-in. 

“What of Grandsire?” She blurted out, interrupting him while her hand clutched Oscar’s forearm as they walked, his head turning towards the entrance of the estate, scanning as though he was worried someone would overhear as he cautiously eyed the guards that seemed to stand at every corner. His shoulders lifted subtly in a shrug, gaze not quite yet returning to her as she looked straight ahead and followed his pace as they walked. 

“He is not well, as you know.” He reminded her, though it was not new news to her, the man had been on his deathbed for what felt like years, “But…” 

“But?” 

Oscar shrugged again, his head turning finally to look straight ahead as well, scanning along the path that was surrounded by lush greenery — Raventree’s yards much better maintained than theirs back home.

“I heard him and Father and Kermit speaking a few nights before your departure, from the hallway…” Oscar began to explain, her head turning to look at him, his eyes casting a side glance at his sister, “He wishes to support Aegon’s claim to the throne. However,  you know our father’s stance. And Kermit’s.” Oscar said, his words slow and hushed to a volume only they could hear, his head turning fully to look at her.  

If times were different, this kind of betrayal could have had more serious implications — the very act of overthrowing their grandfather, the Paramount Lord of Riverrun, undermining his authority, his very word. If times were different, he might have even pushed for punishment by death if it was in his authority, being that he had been such a hot-tempered man as long as she could remember — he’d maybe seek out another heir, not that he was short of any. But instead, he was just a mere man now, sickly and on his deathbed, aged and too frail to even raise a hand. Serra nodded, silently. 

Serra preferred Oscar’s presence more than Kermit’s. He understood the value of comfortable silences, not filling them out of obligation with empty comments. When he did speak, it was of intelligence, conversations that had sincere depth to them, knowledge and wisdom that flowed so effortlessly. There was no awkwardness, no prying to get an answer. He understood that sometimes she just preferred not to speak. She felt that any tension that clung to her shoulders melted away and she could breathe in his presence and that she could speak freely. 

“Brother tells me you are not happy about your betrothal.” Oscar stated, his eyes ahead as they walked among the gardens, her own drawn to the bushes of flowers just beginning to bloom, silently sighing at the subject, “Your groom, I suppose.” He added, though there was a lilt to his voice that hinted at his own amusement. 

“I take it you knew of their plans.” She pointedly accused, turning to look up at him on her right. 

She could see the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile, his shoulders shaking with a laugh, “And you did not think to warn me?” 

“I did not think you would mind…I believe Kermit himself suggested the uncle of Lord of Frey -- Aldean, I believe his name was. A widower, fifty-and-two years of age.” He explained, still teasing his older sister, who did not share his humor over the matter as she abruptly stopped, pulling her arm away. He turned to look at her, met with a frown, “Oh, come on, sister. I only jest.” Oscar said, reaching for her to encourage their walk to resume, however, he sensed her seriousness over the matter and realized there would be no continuing their walk anytime soon. Not until she’d gotten this out of her system.

“I do not find that very funny, Oscar.” She stated. 

“My apologies, sister. I didn't mean to upset you.” He sighed, turning to face her. “But I truly did not think it would be much of an issue.” 

She let out a curt laugh, her expression one of bemusement, “That I would be sold off to the highest bidder, as nothing but a broodmare? Condemned to a life of squeezing out as many heirs as possible?” She ranted. Her brother appeared horrified by her words, eyes widening as he stared at her, mouth agape like a fish out of water. He closed his mouth, blinking rapidly a couple of times and composing himself.

“I assure you that is the last thing Kermit and father wished for you.” He sincerely tried to reason with her, stepping towards her. 

“They’ve condemned me to a life of misery, forced to marry a man who despises me, Oscar.” She snapped, her voice a hiss. “A man who only means to humiliate me and drag my name through the mud for no reason at all. He made that very clear in front of Kermit last night, and he laughed! This…monstrosity was not born of honor or respect, but rather a man’s pride and their want for more power, I am just some pawn to entertain that idea.” 

Oscar hesitated before grabbing her upper arm, beginning to drag her further down the pathway of the garden suddenly, hushing her as he glanced behind them towards the guards who appeared to have been alerted to her rant and had eyed her as she spoke. They crossed the yard, and though she attempted to wriggle from his grasp she was left unsuccessful, confused, and angry as he dragged them another several feet before releasing her, “What do you think you’re doing?” She snapped, stumbling back a step when he released her. He looked at her. 

“You’ve every right to be angry, but need I remind you you’re a noble-highborn lady, sister.” He suddenly interrupted, her mouth open and ready to spew more angry rants. “Do you understand what that means? You’re invaluable, especially now. Especially amidst a war that hangs at our front doorstep, that is sure to bring bloodshed that neither you nor I could ever comprehend. Now I am sorry that Benjicot is not the match you’ve always wished for, but you are a highborn lady-- you have as much a part in this as any of us. I do not mean to scare you but pull your head out of the ground.” 

She gawked at him, eyes wide and processing his words, reflecting on events of the past few weeks. Surely, she hadn’t been naive enough to think that the moment Aegon took the throne as a usurper, she hadn’t expected any less -- that a war of some degree would happen and her brothers and father would be called to the frontlines. But something about the urgency of his tone, the underlying fear there both in voice and face, sent shivers down her spine as she deflated. 

“Sister, listen to me. This was not an easy choice for either of them, I have listened to them these past weeks. But please try to see reason-- this is a time of uncertainty…of fear for even the toughest of men.” He said, closing the gap between to grab her hand, holding it between his as she stared at him, a frown of confusion etching itself into her features, “There are rumors from Kings Landing of Prince Lucerys’ death, some saying that it was one of the King Viserys’ own children who have slain him…”

“What?”

 Kinslaying, in the walls of King's Landing.

“Listen to me!” He snapped in response to her interruption, sighing. “Rhaenyra means to build an army, we have been called upon. The Blackwood’s too, Serra. We will be expected to march to war any day now..” 

She began to withdraw her hand, turning to look back at Raventree and trying to recall where they had entered the gardens from, beginning to hurry from their spot in the yards, “I…must see the father. Surely, these are just rumors.” She muttered, turning from her brother, Oscar’s face falling as he watched after her in a state of despair, his eyes filled with worry as he clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to say anything more than a quiet plea of her name. 

He had said enough. 

—

Serra stood by the doors of the grand hall, watching as her father and Samwell quietly conversed among themselves for what felt like eternity. Stood silently, clinging to whatever corner she could without getting in the way as the house staff rushed about, preoccupied by last-minute preparations ahead of the feast confirming their betrothal to the other houses — in a mere, short hours, everyone in the Riverlands would know that she and Benjicot Blackwood were to be married; a Tully to a Blackwood. Everyone from Raventree, to the Brackens and beyond once word spread. Her father would be sure to make it an occasion to be celebrated, as grand and extravagant as he could muster in these times. 

There was a moment where he had caught her eye, mid-conversation with Samwell. If pride and joy could be embodied into the form of a person, she could have assumed it would have been him right then, a broad smile on his face and looking at her as though she could do no wrong;  as though she had just ended the war before it could even take place and that of any others in the future — she wondered how diluted he had to have become since leaving Riverrun, convincing himself she’d wanted any part of this — Enough that he could suppress his supposed guilt and smile at her like that? 

Serra forced a tight-lipped smile in return while burying any hint of anger that bubbled inside her, instead maintaining her polite attitude and quiet as she allowed the two older men to finish their conversation in the meantime. She clutched her skirts and tucked herself as far out of the way as she could, picking at her nails and watching as the room came together, adorned in hues of burgundy’s, silver, and grey, lavish and extravagant.

It was only once the arrival of guests had begun did they break apart, all smiles and handshakes as they parted ways, that her father turned and made his way towards his daughter. That same soft smile that radiated pride on his face while he reached out for her hands, “My little dove.” He greeted, taking her hands into his as he looked her over, “I hope your journey was a smooth one and your brother’s company to be kind.” Elmo said, his voice laced with sincerity as he eyed his daughter; his gaze prying at the last half of his sentence. 

She drew in a sharp breath, voice small amidst the noise as she replied, “It was…tolerable. Long.” She admitted, her gaze following a young servant boy who barely looked of age as he rushed in with utensils to be laid out at the table, his eyes straight ahead. 

His stare remained on her, scanning her face and noting the tension in his daughter’s features, a contrast to her usually calm demeanor as he gently squeezed her hands to regain her attention. She looked back at him suddenly, gaze dropping to their hands with her mouth pursed, his eyes trying to find hers, “My dear,” he said, head lowering slightly as his concern became palpable by her uncharacteristic behavior. “Something troubles you.” He pointedly stated. 

He watched her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, one that was held and let out from behind clenched teeth. She looked up at him and once again in the direction of the table where a young girl was placing down napkins, straightening them with meticulous accuracy to ensure that each piece of fabric was placed identically; the red stitching catching her attention…

“Come, let’s walk and find somewhere to speak where there might not be as many distractions,” Elmo stated, releasing one of her hands and beginning to guide her in the direction of the doors with one arm coming around her shoulders. 

Serra looked up at him, nodding as they walked. She withdrew her hand from his and found his elbow, her other clutching at her skirts to pull them away from her feet, a measure to keep from tripping over the fabric that reached the toes of her shoes; her head down and allowing her father to guide them, offering pleasantries to a pair of councilmen they passed. He led them around the corner and down a hallway, Serra’s shoulders relaxing with relief as they’d found quiet — the hum of workers and chatter, a faint hum in the background, birds chirping from the yard, and the occasional shout from children playing somewhere in the gardens. The hallway was lit by natural lighting from the still bright skies, lined with windows that were almost thrice the size of her; their ledges up to her waist as they walked. After a few minutes of peace and using the opportunity to breathe for the first time since that morning, Serra was reminded of her conversation with Oscar, her eyes out the window to her right and stiffening again. 

“Tell me what bothers you, dove.” Elmo suddenly said from her left, her hands clasping together around his elbow; fidgeting with a ring on her right hand. 

“You did not tell me you were summoned to war.” She stated, turning her head to look at her father, whose features softened and morphed into a look of sorrow. 

“Because we haven’t…not yet, at least.” Elmo honestly replied, watching his daughter’s face intently, searching for any sort of emotion that could pinpoint her feelings, even a twitch of her lip or a squint. “I did not think it to be of any concern. I figured you would…become too engrossed in your wedding planning.” He continued, letting out a sigh as he covered her hands with one of his own, her own two hands enveloped by one of his with ease. 

“Why send me away now?” She asked, voice quiet and childlike. “Why not let me stay? Help somehow?” 

“You are helping, dove— by being here.” He assured, stopping their pace to pause in the middle of the bridge that overlooked the yards. He looked at her, “This is how you help. By being here— the sacredness of marriage and creating alliances that will help us in the days to come, that is your battle. Securing our house’s future, my dear girl.” He softly said. 

Her eyes stung with tears that welled up as she sucked in a breath, a flurry of emotions swelling in her chest— the anger, grief for what could have been if things had been different, the sadness. The fear and dread. 

“I know this is not what you wanted and I am sorry for placing you in this position against your will. And I am sorry for putting the needs of our house over your happiness,” he said, taking one of her hands into his and squeezing it gently as he lowered his head, ensuring he was eye-to-eye while they spoke, “But I know you will be safe here, even when I cannot be here to see to it myself.” 

“And what of you? Of Kermit and Oscar?” She asked finally, “Of grandfather?” 

Elmo’s mouth pursed into a line, stress lines creasing themselves deep into his face, “I will continue acting in your grandfather’s place, he’s too…old and senile to act in his better judgment. I would sooner deal with his weakened wrath than that of Rhaenyra’s dragons.” He muttered, patting her hand, “Kermit is to marry Lyanna Grey and Oscar to Margaery Chambers by year’s end.”

She looked away, looking back out the window behind her and towards the fields beyond the gates of Raventree, an ache in her chest at the thought of her brother’s facing the same fate she’d been doomed to; forced into a loveless marriage, “Is this what mother would have wanted for us? To marry strangers, without knowing what it was to be loved in return?” She quietly asked, unable to meet his gaze as her head turned and she found herself staring at her feet, fidgeting under his stare. 

Her words could have broken his heart then and there, the sight of his daughter so distraught. Duty aside, Elmo Tully had never been a cruel man and loved his children dearly. 

“No…” he admitted honestly, “she would not have.” He quietly added.

Serra let out a laugh under her breath, a bitter sound as she slid her hands from his and fidgeted with a stray fabric on her skirt. Elmo watched her for a moment, “And what comes from this marriage? What do we receive?” She asked, her tone changing to one more resembling anger, shaking as she spoke and looked up at him. 

He pondered his next words, a deep breath being exhaled from his nose, “We have promised military and territorial support to the Blackwoods in addition to your dowry. They in return have promised a trade agreement for routes directly between the two houses, resources controlled by their house, and their military aid. They’ve promised troops and weaponry.” Elmo slowly explained to not overwhelm her, running through the negotiation that had taken weeks to come by. “Benjicot has promised to keep you safe and act as your sworn protector, which is the most important thing to me.” 

Serra’s hands flung up with a sharp laugh, hardly able to believe his words as she turned and neared the ledge of the window, “And what might he protect me from, other than him?”

Her father stood back for a moment as she leaned into the ledge with her hands, a breeze passing through the corridor. He slowly approached her once he felt he had given her enough a moment to breathe, keeping some space between them and taking her left, looking out where she stared, “I know you two have not seen eye-to-eye in previous years and have had your quarrels. I recognize that it may not have been my best decision and may come as a betrayal.” 

He said, looking over at her while her gaze avoided him, straight ahead, “I know it is daunting marrying a stranger, someone who you do not love or trust yet. When I first married your mother, I barely knew her. But over time, we grew to love and understand each other deeply. Your mother and I learned to support and respect each other through our journey together. You and Benjicot will have the same opportunity to grow and build a bond if you give things a chance to…grow.” He tried to reassure her, unsure if he was successful as she did not even glance at him. 

He turned his head and rocked back and forth against the ledge for a moment, “I know he was not the best as a child, but he’s grown despite his antics. Kermit tells me last night did not go as he hoped, he and his father extended their apologies this morning.” he explained, earning another bitter laugh, “Benjicot is a good man though, with good values and he is loyal. In time I can only hope that he will prove that and you will come to appreciate his character.” Elmo said, suddenly drawn to the sound of grunts and wood colliding from beneath them, craning his head to catch a glimpse of a training pit that had been haphazardly built, two boys swinging their swords in a spar; his body turned towards his daughter but watching on as he spoke.

Serra turned to him finally, frowning, “You think he will treat me with the respect and kindness I deserve? Do you truly think he has grown? Because it seems like everyone else believes that to be true, but he’s yet to show me any signs of that.” 

“I do.” 

“And if you’re wrong?” She asked. “Then I���m to be doomed to a life of misery and suffering, married to a man who finds me insufferable?” 

His gaze lifted from the spar below them, letting out a chuckle at his daughter’s rant and reaching out again to gather one of her hands in his, “You will be fine, I am sure of it.” He softly said, “While it’s natural to feel uncertain, trust that this union has the potential to bring joy and strength. Give it a chance, as I did with your mother. You have the support and strength of our entire family behind you. We will be here for you every step of the way, dove.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, and though Serra was unsure she felt any more confident in Benjicot, she felt a sense of comfort in her father’s words. His free hand lifted to cup her face, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “You are a Tully, my dear girl. You will always be okay.” He muttered into her hair, backing up and releasing her hand. His gaze flickered towards the pit below them once more, flashing her a smile before he took his leave, brushing past her and returning in the direction of the hall without saying anything more and leaving her in silence, processing his words; picking at the edges of her nails, plucking at the skin. 

Her interest peaked at whatever his eyes had found amidst the yard as a shout interrupted her thoughts. 

Her gaze turned down to where her father’s own had been moments prior. She had to lean over the ledge of the window to see where his attention had been drawn to — there, her eyes landed on a dirt patch in a clearing of grass, a brown-haired boy engaged in a spar with another boy, circling one another with wood swords in hand; stripped down to their tunics as they trained, doublets long-since abandoned in the grass. Serra had never been one to take an interest in the hobbies of men, having never understood the fun of rolling in the dirt with faux swords, but as they turned slightly, her gaze was drawn to the taller boy of the two. 

Benjicot. He turned, broad-shouldered, lean, and admittedly handsome Benjicot, whose gaze was transfixed intensely on his opponent — a boy she recognized as a cousin of his — with such focus, sword in his right hand. His sweat-slick face, red and flushed, pulled into a frown of concentration. She watched on as he swung the sword down on the boy opposite of him, the swords colliding in a crack! that echoed through the yard, causing his opponent to stumble back before the sword swung in his direction again; just missing his belly and leaping back out of its path. There was hardly a chance for his cousin to recoil from his attack, the sword once more being swung upwards and just missing his chin in the process. She could admit that Benjicot was not just another Southern boy, weak and existing behind false confidence — Benjicot was also powerful and fierce. He was a ferocious warrior in battle. He was an impressive force to be reckoned with. Suddenly, the thought of her brothers and father fighting alongside him on the battlefield did not seem as daunting or terrifying to think about. 

She continued to watch on as his cousin stumbled back, holding his sword up and blindly swinging at Benjicot, who responded by lifting his right foot and kicking him by his chest onto his back with one swift blow; sending the male reeling backward into the dirt with a grunt when his head slammed back into the ground. Benjicot quickly stood over him, the tip of his sword being pressed against his throat, panting, “I thought you said you were going to take it easy today.” His cousin panted. 

Benjicot withdrew his sword, the pair laughing as he offered a hand to assist him to his feet after a moment, “I did.” He replied.

The two boys quietly chatted amongst themselves for a moment longer, laughter echoing across the yard. His cousin -- Emrys, a boy she had met once prior -- laughed as he walked away from their place in the training circle with a clap to his shoulder, shaking his head at whatever Benjicot muttered as he walked out of sight and into the castle floor beneath her. Serra, however, lingered; watching Benjicot now, who was seemingly unaware of her presence, go to the grass to pick up his doublet and a spare sword that sat beneath it. His back had been turned to her as he wiped off the swords of dust, his gaze cast out on the field that was slowly being engulfed by dusk for a minute.

She began to recede from her spot after a few minutes more passed, hoping to turn and leave before he even had the chance to see her. However, she was unsuccessful in her feat as he turned around abruptly, eyes turning their attention up to the balcony she stood on and meeting her gaze as she flushed with embarrassment and remained frozen to the spot -- there was no hiding the fact that she had been watching him now, looking down at him. His mouth twitched, the lines in his face appearing for half a second, but gone just as quickly as though what she assumed was a scowl threatened to surface as he held her gaze. 

Instead, he bowed. 

“My lady.” He muttered, standing upright before striding back inside; her gaze stuck on the spot where he had been. 

She blinked, glancing behind her once, the fact dawning on her that in moments, he would be in her hallway and she would be face to face with him. She clenched her fists, embarrassed enough as is and red-faced, beginning to hurry back to her chambers; the sound of footsteps echoing from the staircase as she passed them. If the Gods were cruel, they would have had her run right into him, but if they had any mercy to spare her-- 

Her thought was interrupted, slamming her door behind her and pressing her back to it, wide-eyed as she stood there, struggling to hold her breath to be as quiet as possible. She listened carefully to the hallway, able to make out the sound of footsteps approaching her door. Surely, he had not come to confront her? She hadn’t done anything wrong. 

The footsteps slowed to a complete stop just beyond her door, halting there, just outside. She tensed up completely, eyes closing as she silently crept further into her room and away from the door, praying the floor would not give away her presence as she slowly walked towards the center of the room; hand over her mouth to silence her heavy breathing and glancing towards the door to see if she could make out any feet beneath the door. Though she could not see anyone, even as she bent over at the waist and strained her eyes, she could still sense their presence. 

The footsteps suddenly continued, walking past her doorway quickly and receding down the hallway until she could no longer hear them, free to breathe and finally relax. What in good God's name was he doing? Was he just hellbent on tormenting her, by stalking around the castle like that? Surely, this couldn’t be the same man her father thought had changed and grown out of his tactics of terrorizing her as a child. 

She continued backing up until her knees met the frame of the bed, her hand dropping away from her mouth and letting out a sigh as she sat down. 

—

Benjicot did not even wish to join the feast.

The thought made him feel sick, doing everything in his power to prolong his having to head down to the dinner hall that had been busy with servants finalizing decorating, and setting up before they began greeting guests — he could hear the chatter from his chamber, and if he looked outside, stuck his head out the window and turned his head just right, he could see them coming and going with supplies. On the other hand, he knew if he was too late, his father would sooner have his head on a spike — there seemed to be no winning for him these days. 

Rather than feed into the dread that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach like a ball of lead, he chose to busy himself with tasks that had value to them, tasks that would busy his mind — rather than twiddle his thumbs, he organized and skimmed through his old history textbooks; previously a stack on the floor in a corner of his chambers. Rather than chew his nails, he chose to seek out Emrys and train. But even that had not done much for him, coming face to face with one source of his anxiety — feeling her gaze watch his every move. He could feel his shoulders tense, realizing someone was watching him from somewhere behind, and coming to find the Tully girl on the balcony that overlooked the training ground; reeling back when he turned. The very sight of her caused the taste of bile to crawl up the back of his throat, anger bubbling up inside him that he was forced to push down, somewhere deep within him.

He could still hear his father’s voice, his hand at his neck and warning him whenever he saw her — and then that stupid look on her face when he had come out of the doors the night prior. Pitiful and sad. 

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, coming to her door and stopping outside of it, unsure what possessed him to follow her there — he didn’t have anything to say to her. He didn’t need anything from her. Maybe he just wanted to look at her again. Benjicot could hear her footsteps from beyond the door, creeping further from him as he could presume she was trying to get as far away from the door. And just as quickly as he had slipped into a daze that found him at her door, he shook it off and stormed back to his room, fists balled at his sides and jaw clenched. 

His gaze was fixed on the ceiling of his room, the servants coming and going meanwhile, with their gazes down as they retrieved soaps and oils for the young heir before hurrying out as quickly as they rushed in without a word. The room soon fell into a silence as he sank into the tub, embracing its warmth that worked to ease the tension in his muscles with his arms laid out over the sides of the tub, and clutching the ledges with a white-knuckled grip — he should have found it relaxing…the silence and the warmth the water provided. But the past twenty-four hours had left him too on edge to think of anything more than the war, his father’s words…his soon-to-be-bride. His head turned, leaning against his right shoulder as his hand released the tub, watching his fingers flex, stretching out before clenching into a fist. 

Benjicot had never pictured himself to be much of a husband. As a boy, he understood the duty of it — of marriage and honor, the need for heirs to keep their house strong, their future line secure. That was the value of it, after all. Was security. Built through hundreds of years of alliances, marriage pacts, and children that would follow the path of their father and their father before him. Just as Benjicot’s father had done at the young age of ten and six. 

Benjicot did not remember much about his mother  — he did not even know who she was before all the grief and illness that kept her confined to her room, as his father had avoided the topic of her much throughout his childhood. After trying to ask about her time and time again after she passed when he was ten-and-one, Benjicot gave up. Of the very little he could manage to get out of his father, he knew that she had struggled in childbirth with him, that she had reached for him, brought him to her chest, and uttered her love for him. Benjicot resembled his mother in a lot of ways — he was a splitting image of his sweet mother but had taken his father’s hair color. She had been born a Lannister and married into the Blackwood’s, barely sixteen herself; well-spoken and confident. Benjicot knew his father loved her, even if he did not say it aloud. 

He could recall the pain in his eyes whenever he pressed the subject to know her better, dismissing him as a boy and ending the conversation at that. 

“She loved you.” Was all he could offer.

Benjicot had heard whispers, too. That there had been at least four stillborn and two miscarriages before him; wracking her with guilt and grief that left her bedridden for days on end. His father had spent weeks trying to coax her from her room, taking her meals to her. There had been one more stillborn after him and that had been it, the final straw. That was the only version Benjicot had come to know — the empty shell of a woman, who sat by her window, looking out over the pastures for hours at a time with empty, sunken in eyes, struggling just to eat the least amount of food she could. She was skin and bones, and Benjicot feared that if he had hugged her too tight, she might crumble in his arms. The sight of her that last year frightened him honestly. 

He shook off the thought, sinking further into the tub until the water lapped at his chin, knees bent up and out of the water to accommodate the short tub that was already a tight squeeze for him. If that grief and that pain and agony was part of “honor and duty”…Benjicot wanted no part of it. He had distanced himself from the subject of marriage after his mother’s funeral and had avoided any mention of it as best he could. The horror he felt when his father had gone behind his back and forced his hand was undoubtedly made even worse by the prospect of his bride. 

A girl who could barely look him in the eye, more fascinated by bugs and creatures than to have had the decency to introduce herself when they first met. He could recall her mother having to introduce her, bent at her side and reminding her daughter of propriety; only then did she quietly speak her name, covered in dirt. Benjicot could have forgiven it if she had taken to something like swordsmanship and training in battle like his aunt had — a skilled warrior with an arrow, but instead, she collected bugs.

Surely, she’d had a say in their match, as well. 

The very idea perplexed him that she would even choose him after everything. Benjicot had never been shy of making it known that he could not stand her as children. Even if they had both grown up and changed since he still could not see the reason behind it or what she had to benefit by choosing him. Benjicot Blackwood was a man who needed to understand and have an answer for everything.

Benjicot was not unaware that she had grown much since they had last seen each other. He also could not deny that she had taken a likeness to her mother’s beauty, having grown into her looks in womanhood — she could not have been short of her pick from potential suitors who would have given her the time of day, asking for her hand. She was by means not unlucky in looks. She had less interest in playing with bugs that crawled all over her these days, too. The very fact that he could not make sense of it frustrated him to no end; instead, thoughts of Serra Tully stirred a feeling in his belly, ones that spread across his chest that he could not quite place a finger on — a mix of fury and…something more. 

He sat up abruptly with a growl, water splashing around him and over the ledge of the tub; spilling over onto the wooden floors as he cupped some of the water between his hands and splashed it into his face. His hands carded through his hair, tugging at the roots as he let out a sigh that echoed off the walls of his chamber, slumping back against the tub — this seemed to be his only safe space, away from the suffocating reality of the expectations placed upon him, laying heavy on his shoulders. It was doing little to rid him of the thoughts that plagued his mind if even just for a moment.

He stilled, frozen and unmoving as a thought crossed his mind. His right hand, which had found its way back to the ledge of the tub, slid underneath the water, his hand slipping between his thighs and taking his cock into his grasp— confident he would have some time at least. He was desperate for some kind of distraction at this point, a last-ditch effort to soothe his mind as his hand moved with languid movements against himself, head hanging back against the headrest as his eyes closed and he started to relax for a moment; attempting to lose himself in the lewd act. His mouth dropped open with a sigh, the early flickers of arousal beginning to burn in his belly as his hand increased pace, chest rising with a heavy breath— 

“My lord.”

The door shot open with minimal warning, Alistair’s voice interrupting the silence as he entered the room, coming to an abrupt stop at the door. The sudden interruption caused Benjicot to shoot upright in the tub, hand leaving his crotch and gripping the tub once more to pull himself forward, hissing, “Fuck!” He shouted, heart pounding as he panted, a hand dragging over his face, “What? What is it?” He snapped hurriedly, humiliated.

Alistair stuttered for a moment, visibly flustered as Benjicot turned his head slightly to look at him; hair falling into his eyes that he quickly brushed back. He nodded, “My apologies, my lord, I--…” he said, pausing. “Your father and the Tully’s have already been seated in the great hall. As have your guests. Your father has asked for you.” 

Benjicot was still trying to bring down his heart rate when he nodded, waving him out dismissively, “Thank you.” He grumbled. 

Alistair nodded once more at the heir, gaze down as he turned and rushed from the room, allowing Benjicot to finally slump back again; face burning from the humiliation of their interaction. 

— 

The feast was loud and dragging on. 

Benjicot had arrived and been greeted by the familiar faces of the many other houses of the Riverlands, painfully aware they were not oblivious to and noted his lateness as punctuality had not a trait that he had ever been known for since he was a boy. He had become quite practiced at avoiding their gazes as he took his seat, not bringing any further attention to himself than was necessary -- or at least more than already was. It had been no secret that the feast was hosted on his behalf, specifically emphasized in the letters that had been dispatched by Raven two days prior, and he could have only assumed that everyone had some inkling of what had brought them together. Samwell Blackwood was not a man who cared for hosting events as grand as this occasion had turned out to be often unless it was of high importance, and it had been no secret that he intended to find a wife for his son. Even glancing around, Benjicot could have counted at least a half dozen of the Lords who were within arms reach who had offered their daughters hands since he was ten-and-six, his face buried in a chalice of wine and scanning the table. 

His father, although he had announced his arrival with feigned pride at the sight of the boy Lord, Benjicot could see the hint of a discontented frown from the opposite end of the table when he entered. He had remained silent, however, relieved but unsure if he preferred the silence over a scold, leaving him on edge the entire night. 

It didn’t help his nerves that the only chair that had been saved for him was nestled right in between his father and his betrothed at his right, with Elmo sitting across from him on his father’s left, Kermit across from Serra. He had balled his hands into fists at his side during the walk to his seat at the head of the table, bowing his head with a muttered greeting to the Tully father and son who offered pleasantries among the hum of conversation. Meanwhile, Serra’s eyes had remained down at the table, hands in her lap, demurely sitting beside him and only briefly catching his stare when he muttered a quiet greeting to her while pulling out his chair and sitting down. 

They remained otherwise silent, the quiet that had befallen them only broken by his father, spiraling into Elmo and Kermit making conversation by recalling stories of their childhood. Benjicot sat with his elbows on the table in front of him, hands clasped together while his chin rested on his knuckles, humming and letting out a chuckle sometimes in response to certain memories, his eyes otherwise scanning the table and the guests. He watched the way they became rowdier with more wine. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the clink of a cup, his father standing from the table. The table finally silenced for the first time in hours, eyes watching his father with anticipation as he held his chalice high. 

"Lords and ladies, esteemed friends and allies, it is with great pleasure and honor that I stand before you tonight. In the spirit of unity and the strengthening of bonds between our noble houses, I am delighted to announce the betrothal of my beloved son, Benjicot, to the gracious and noble, Serra, daughter of Lord Elmo of House Tully.” Samwell announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the room. He paused, looking down at the young couple who looked up at him, his gaze landing on his son and nodding to himself before he continued, “May their union bring prosperity, joy, and enduring friendship to our families. Let us raise our glasses in celebration of this auspicious occasion." He finally finished, looking back out at the table that erupted in applause and cheerful exclamations of agreement. 

Benjicot, however, sharply inhaled; fighting the urge to scowl as he looked into his nearly empty cup, hiding his stare as his father began to sit down. In the corner of his eye, he witnessed a guard come forward, Alistair standing over his shoulder when Ben’s eyes lifted briefly to look over and see him muttering something into his ear; witnessing the moment his father tensed up. 

“Excuse me, pardon-- I…” Samwell said, standing up again. 

The prying eyes of the room remained on Samwell as he nodded, the guard stepping back and towards the wall where he had planted himself. The Blackwood Lord slowly turned his attention back to the table that had fallen silent, awaiting his next words, his cool stare shifting around for a moment before his mouth opened once more, “My apologies for disturbing your supper once again,” He begrudgingly stated,  “It has been brought to my attention that…the Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen was murdered in his bed last night.” 

It was at that point that all hell broke loose, his words met with a gasp from somewhere at the table before the table erupted in men’s anger and uproar at the news. Meanwhile, Benjicot watched his father slowly sit back down in silence, the prior joy on his face now replaced by a stoic expression; visibly drawn back into his thoughts as Elmo spoke up, “Gods be good... Pray that he went quickly.” He quietly muttered, his hand tightening around his chalice as the chaos raged on in light of the news. 

“Yes…” Benjicot blurted, his gaze meeting Elmo’s from across the table, the latter of whom had gone for a drink from his cup; glancing between the young lord and his daughter who was visibly shaken by the news, her hands now clenched on the table. Benjicot could make out in the corner of his eye as she looked over at him, turning his head just enough and looking down at her left hand that was closest to him. He released his cup, setting it down against the table, and reached across to lay his hand over hers as if to comfort her though he could feel her stiffen. He disregarded her reaction and turned back to her father, “Pray that his suffering has ended.”

Benjicot watched as her father stared at their hands, glancing again between them before he visibly relaxed at the sight and nodded in response to his words. He wasn’t certain his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he saw the small hint of a smile on Elmo’s face, thrown in the direction of his daughter that was brief before he looked away.  Serra’s hand quickly withdrew to drop into her lap, her gaze bearing into the side of his face as he lifted his chalice then with the now free hand and took a drink -- he only meant to gauge her reaction, get some hint of his prior question on her motive. He let out a ‘hm’ into his cup, his eyes casting left and meeting hers, his eyebrows shooting up. She looked down. 

He had an answer he could work with at least.

TAGLIST: @tannyfairy @username199945, @cxcilla, @thethiccestdaddy, @deltamoon666, @drwho-ess, @callsigncrushx , @clarityisnofun @jhepolie, @juhdoche @majoso12 @roseheart5 , @nixtape-foryou , @poppyflower-22 @accidentpronedork

[natjennie]

almost crying actually about the fact that my post was reblogged by the official d20 account. like that on top of having my "it's gorgug keep going" art in the finale of sophomore year I mean.... I am forever intertwined with this show and I could not be prouder. fantasy high is maybe my favorite thing of all time, I love it to fucking pieces and I can't contribute a lot to fandom stuff really, but being even a tiny piece of the story is so important to me. yes I'm emotional about an edit of emily axford screaming over the elmo fire meme.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

History Blog recs

One of my Very Specific interests over the last...idk 10 years, has been reading blogs about the A Song of Ice and Fire series, by historians. I'm not sure what it is about those books: the complex, multi-layered narrative, the author's claim to work creatively with real world history, the micro-arguments contained in every arc, or what, but historians have the most FASCINATING shit to say about those books.*

I've learned so much about the logistics of civilization, the intellectual history of leadership theory, the history of subsistence agriculture, the type of agriculture needed to sustain societies of a certain size, the evolution of military theory, etc from this very specific, Historians Engage With ASOIAF and its Television Adaptations genre of blog.

There is, of course, the late great Steven Attewell's @racefortheironthrone, but I recently discovered this gem: A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry by Dr. Bret C. Devereaux. I just finished his series analyzing, problematizing, and ultimately debunking George RR Martin's claim that the Dothraki "were actually fashioned as an amalgam of a number of steppe and plains cultures… Mongols and Huns, certainly, but also Alans, Sioux, Cheyenne, and various other Amerindian tribes… seasoned with a dash of pure fantasy."

In Part IV, he writes:

... declaring that the Dothraki really do reflect the real world (I cannot stress that enough) cultures of the Plains Native Americans or Eurasian Steppe Nomads is not merely a lie, but it is an irresponsible lie that can do real harm to real people in the real world. And that irresponsible lie has been accepted by Martin’s fans; he has done a grave disservice to his own fans by lying to them in this way. And of course the worst of it is that the lie – backed by the vast apparatus that is HBO prestige television – will have more reach and more enduring influence than this or any number of historical ‘debunking’ essays. It will befuddle the valiant efforts of teachers in their classrooms (and yes, I frequently encounter students hindered by bad pop-pseudo-history they believe to be true; it is often devilishly hard to get students to leave those preconceptions behind), it will plague efforts to educate the public about these cultures of their histories. And it will probably, in the long run, hurt the real descendants of nomads.

Which just. I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. Y'all know how deeply concerned I am a. with the outsize influence the entertainment industry has on memory; and b. how little that industry gives a shit about responsible use of its own power. So like, this is my shit. I'm still exploring this blog and it is a TREASURE TROVE.

*I do not include myself in that grouping. My thoughts are like: BUT WHICH ONES ARE THE JEWS DANY IS MY UNPROBLEMATIC QWEEN/AZOR AHAI/PRINCE THAT WAS PROMISED/STALLION THAT'S GONNA MOUNT THE WORLD/ETC I CAN'T WAIT TIL SANSA SHOWS HERSELF IS DANY GONNA BURN IT ALL DOWN AND EMERGE FROM THE FLAMES LIKE THAT ELMO GIF IS ARYA GOING TO RIDE A WOLF WOW I DON'T CARE ABOUT BRAN I THINK THE RHOYNAR ARE THE JEWS WHERE IS THE GODDAMN FUCKING WINDS OF WINTER

**Also, I never watched more than 2 episodes of the show. I hated how it added in sexual violence and nudity for no reason when there was already PLENTY of that in the text, most of it with narrative purpose. But then I read the books because it was 2012 and I wanted to keep up with pop culture.

[punkinvsblogging]

“Las otras personas tampoco importan, pero trátalas como si importaran.”

2025.02.02

hablé con mi amigo en espanol

work

big, big nap (That would be so cool if I just slept at night time.)

layed on the floor thinking about awful things for a very long time

stood up, and that was enough to get me started for some reason

journaled

Memrise: français, português, deutsch

more work

had a breakdown oop

went to the gym

Made some bracelets (There’s no way I’ll be able to afford MCR tickets anytime soon, but here I am making Black Parade bracelets anyway.)

books

guitar

Depression was just sitting on top of me and not letting me up out of nowhere today, but I still got up and did a lot, including my job that I recently got fired from, and I'm kinda proud.

I already know that I am good at my job. I'm thankful that I am able to have confidence in something. Still, it's always good to be reminded and reassured.

I came into this most recent gig overqualified, and I think that was one of the reasons why it was so frustrating for me, especially when I was treated the way I was treated (horribly). I still have to work for a few more days (and hopefully get paid), and today a client said that they were trying to include me in their schedule for the week and noticed that I wasn't going to be around. I told them why in the most vague way that I could, and they seemed truly upset and let me know that they enjoyed our sessions. They had a really big reaction that I wasn't expecting. I almost cried. I was having a pretty rough morning already, and to suddenly be told that I was appreciated made me really emotional. I actually felt pretty relieved when I was fired because I have been truly miserable, and this "job" is one of the reasons why. It's just unfortunate that other people are being affected and that it's happening when I am struggling financially (and when I have to pay for a flight to see Fall Out Boy in Mexico again >:3). Still, I'm sure things will work out. They always do. Not looking forward to the hard parts, though.

I try really hard to be kind at all times (impossible, I know), and it is extremely difficult, especially on days like today because when that girl was talking about how she felt about me no longer being available, I was hella Elmo in that fire meme lol This one:

I was like yesssss girl complain! Tell them all about how you're gonna miss me and how they messed uppppp!

But then I remembered that I honestly don't really need that reassurance because I already know lol Having self-confidence is odd. I don't know if I like it. Feels icky at times like these.

[aussiellama]

Random Spider White headcannon

He is really good at maths, he's actually good at school in general but he's really good at maths

Ant: We all have our demons.

Ant, grabbing Spider : This one’s mine.

Ant: You look mentally ill.

Spider : I am. Let’s go.

Ant: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?

Spider : Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

Ant:

Spider : I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.

Spider : Stop failing.

Ant: Don’t tell me what to do! I'll fail right now!

Ant: *Succeeds*

Ant: Dang it!

Spider : Watcha doin?

Ant: Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Spider : Scandalous.

Spider : Can I help?

Ant,: Do you know how many bones the human body has? It's 206. We start with 369 when we're babies but they fuse. Wouldn't you want to go back? Have as many bones as a baby? What if I could help you.

Spider : Hi, yeah, what the actual, literal, GENUINE fuck does that mean?

Spider: You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds.

Ant: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work?

Spider: NO-

Spider: Get your fucking shit together and act like an adult!

Ant : Think you have the wrong person but you're right.

Ant : Old people? More like fold people! *Makes an origami swan out of grandma*.

Spider: Literally what was going through your mind that motivated you to do this?

Spider: We need a plan to beat them.

Ant: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

Spider:

Ant: Judge me all you want, I get result

Ant: I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows.

Spider: I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

Ant: You disgust me.

Spider: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

Ant: Look, Spider, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

Spider, pointing at Ant: Well, you can't spell stupid without "U".

Ant: Well, there's an "I" in stupid, too!

Spider:

Ant: Damn, Spider, are you secretly cool?

Spider: Well, poker is just math, so I guess it depends on if you consider the mathematician, Carl Friedrich Gauss, cool.

Ant: I do not.

Spider: Psst... Hey. Fucker. *Kisses you* idiot.

Ant: Hey, sweetheart! Hey dear! *Fucking decks you in the face* Angel~

Spider: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Ant, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Spider: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Ant: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Spider:

Spider: Why are you eating dirt?

Ant: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

Spider: I have very high standards, you know.

Ant: I can make spaghetti...

Spider: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!

Spider: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire.

Ant: But what if something else happens just this one time.

Spider: Let's roleplay.

Ant: Okay. I'll be Elmo and you'll be-

Spider: Elmo?

Ant: Oh, fuck yes. Two Elmos.

Spider: Wait-

Ant: Did you know that you can't actually breathe when you're smiling?

Spider: *Smiles*

Ant: Haha, gotcha! I just wanted to make you smile!

Spider: Motherfucker

Spider: Kinda gay for a man to have dark circles under his eyes. Why aren't you getting a good night's sleep? Too busy thinking about other men?

Ant: Kinda gay for a man to be well rested. What are you dreaming peacefully about? Other men?

Spider: You smell so good.

Ant: So lick me, then.

Spider: Huh?

Ant: Huh?

Spider: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Ant: Mine just says "Ant no."

Spider: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Spider, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed?

Ang: *half asleep* Spider, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for *gestures vaguely to themself* the Queen.

Ant: Relationships should be 50/50. Spider cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Ant: When I met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Spider: What changed your mind?

Ant: Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

Ant with puppy dog eyes: I baked you a cookie... But I eated it...

Spider: Don't you ever get tired of being fucking annoying?

Ant: I desire moisture.

Spider: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Spider: Ant, you're my best friend.

Ant: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend.

Ant: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!

Ant: *on the phone* Hey Spider, do you know my blood type?

Spider: Of course, it's B-.

Ant: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Ant: What's wrong with you?

Spider: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

Ant: "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." and "Sorry, Daddy. I've been bad." both mean very similar things but have wildly different connotations.

Spider: Get the duct tape, cause I'm shutting you up for good.

Ant: When am I gonna be able to have my 100k slow burn enemies to lovers relationship...?

Spider: Stop reading fanfiction and get back to work.

Ant: Mate. You wanna go?

Spider: Yeah.

Ant: ...On a date with me-

Ant: Oh you do?

Spider: You're saying that like I fell for a cunning prank. We're literally dating, you egg.

Ant: I trained this chicken to talk!

Spider: Let's see, then.

Ant: What's a male deer?

Chicken: Buck

Ant: How much is 200 pennies?

Chicken: Buck buck.

Spider: This is stupid...

Ant: It gets better.

Chicken: It gets way better, Spider.

[monstraduplicia]

tag game!!

tagged by @saltbind tysm <3333

Do you make your bed? not unless I'm changing the sheets or having company over. I don't really see the point in it for me

What's your favorite number? 25 and 23. don't ask me why they've just stuck

What is your job? I am a housemom at a strip club. Basically I keep the dressing room clean, take care of the dancers, count money, and do paperwork. it's a fun job that really works for me, but the pay isn't like. the best ever.

If you could go back to school, would you? literally if I had the time and money I would love to finish my degree so I could get an actual adult job (or be a teacher like I've always wanted) but alas.

Can you parallel park? I've never tried and I think I would be too scared to try if the situation arose

A job you had that would surprise people? I've only ever had the one job but it surprises people all the time bc they don't know it even exists

Do you think aliens are real? probably but that has nothing to do with me so I don't have much of an opinion. I feel the same way about God

Can you drive a manual car? nope

What's your guilty pleasure? i am not catholic so i do not feel guilt about things that bring me pleasure but I do get embarrassed sometimes. reading fanfiction when I'm hyperfixating on something is high on the embarrassing list. not bc it's fanfiction but specifically the subject matter

Tattoos? none. ideally I would like some but i have zero pain tolerance and also zero money so never gonna happen

Favorite color? black, red, all shades of brown, burnt orange, and mustard yellow

Favorite type of music? most genres of rock, especially 90s alt

Do you like puzzles? i love puzzles!!!!!! it's why I love putting furniture together bc it's just a big puzzle

Any phobias? no. I've never been like. needlessly scared of things. I do really fucking hate spiders though

Favorite childhood sport? I've never liked sports like. at all? dodgeball was kind of fun if I had to pick one. does that even count?

Do you talk to yourself? constantly just not out loud. I have a never ending stream of consciousness at all times that shifts from narrating to conversing with myself to first person analysis of what I'm doing/seeing

What movies do you adore? dangerous question for me but some of my favorites are: velvet Goldmine, mysterious skin, dazed and Confused, empire records, chained, shame, cruel intentions, deadgirl, Detroit rock city, the dreamers, the cell, interview with the vampire, magnolia, labyrinth, hard candy, sex lies and videotape, mirrormask, amelie, fallen angels, almost famous, before sunrise, one hour photo, possum, the devils candy, all that jazz, the boat that rocked, slc punk, the fifth element, st elmos fire, the company of wolves, the passenger, like minds, a reflection of fear, the holdovers, and dinner in america

Coffee or tea? tea bc I hate coffee with a passion but I'm not even that big a fan of tea

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? when I was a kid I wanted to be an actress or singer, but I've wanted to be a teacher since I was like 14

tagging: @emiliosandozsequence @vampireassistant @mrcrepsley @planswithinplans @maythyknife @jamesheathridge

[n41r]

what are your thoughts on oreca battle 2? everyone's going crazy for the purple-haired dude but I'm happy my underrated dude doshu got a new class change.

Wait, purple-haired dude??? I don't know if it's because I didn't dive deep enough into Oreca Battle 2 hashtag on twitter, but I don't remember anyone with purple hair-

Anyway, even tho I usually avoid most Oreca Battle news and updates in fear of feeding my anxiety, I need to be honest for one thing,

I am actually very excited for Oreca Battle 2-

Just very recently, a friend shares some updates about Oreca Battle 2, in which she told and shows me that some old characters from Oreca Battle's New Prologue got 4☆ evolution, Like Heat and Rakshasa!

((These photos belong to from Zillax from twitter))

I really love Heat's new drip, he look amazing- And gosh, I haven't seen a lot of Rakshasa's action, but gosh he's really cool askfhdjkgr--

Also Doshu... that's Ballis, right? I hope I got it right-

((This photo belongs to Zillax from twitter))

Seeing him appeared on the initial Oreca Battle 2 poster was already a shock, but seeing him getting a 4☆ evo on the new Poster? I am elated, my gosh- And just this morning, I saw how Ballis's EX Move looks like, and I am in awe- That EX move is absolutely cool, it's hella great! I really love the rapid fire and all Ballis's laughter skjefhsxjkhb-- I haven't actually seen 3☆ Ballis's EX Move myself, but I need to see it now-

Everything that I have seen from Oreca Battle 2 hashtag on twitter have been nothing but hype fuel, and it's all an amazing news! I especially loves the mage Manana, and the mist(?) knight Glen! They are so neat, especially Manana that's just, he is so cute skrjgr-

((These photos belong to from Zillax from twitter))

I'm still holding hope for Dran to get 4☆ evo as well! Like, he already appeared on the initial poster, he MUST get a 4☆- He doesn't get featured for nothing, I know he will get 4☆ evo in the future, I believe-

Also, even tho he doesn't appear yet, I'm also holding hope for Sieg's appearance in Oreca Battle 2 🙏🙏🙏

And lastly, how a friend pointed out the pose that Heat have for his EX move resemble Burning Elmo meme skdhgkdfjhg--

[veliseraptor]

@curiosity-killed replied to your post “18 and/or 29 for fic writer asks? 👀”:

Oh I am the Elmo on fire gif about this unfinished or not! It’s such a fun idea & tasty tasty scene 😍😍😍

thank you!!! ​this one is in my "mcu salvage folder" of the fics that I still really like despite having moved on from the mcu and might, actually, at some point in a hypothetical future, come back to

[mango-jpeg]

on the obverse notes

according to a note i wrote i started around feb 23rd - so before i’d finished drop the knife - which seems like. way too long. welp. i think p3 is out of my system now

trying to capture the long term relationship experience of being royally pissed off at the person you most want to spend time with so you’re simultaneously furious + totally contented

tried also to balance aki’s canon future (running off to south america to get his tits clawed off by a bear) w the fact that i think being in a relationship would affect his priorities. n that i don't like his canon future

obviously i am a sucker for the p4 & p5 hierophants (gruff middle aged caretakers) but there's something sooo crazy-making about a teenager w that characterization

giving shinji the kaeya treatment (writing fic where he's surrounded by friends. get loved, idiot)

this is another fic that is so exactly what i want to read it feels kinda weird to share it? but if one other person likes it then it's worth it 👍

one of the truest delights in writing is getting partway into a scene and discovering there's a third character there too. it's nice to break up the constant one-on-one conversations

honestly love when characters do not talk it out but since the whole premise of this fic was that they can’t carry on as they had been before - that being together does actually change things - i did need them to talk it out to resolve this fic :/

but i do think clear communication would instakill them so it was tricky to balance. there’s definitely an imagined reader in my head unsatisfied w the resolution

realized after the fact that shinji also laughs @ aki's confession in st elmo's fire. sometimes it's just like that ig

reading: i’m going to be annoying and put a comprehensive list (- work stuff)

The Cheerleaders, Kara Thomas

Calypso, David Sedaris

Bad Cree, Jessica Johns

Happy-Go-Lucky, David Sedaris

Roaming, Jillian & Mariko Tamaki

The World We Make, N.K. Jeminsin

Drown, Junot Diaz

Invisible Monsters, Chuck Palahniuk

Heartburn, Nora Ephron

Trouble, Lex Croucher

I Used to Be Charming, Eve Babitz

some were more influential than others—"native tongue" was a phrase pulled from Invisible Monsters for ex.—but ultimately Heartburn remains my number one

the whole premise was probably in part inspired by 'Keeping Up', my fav Sedaris essay (& one of the most romantic things i've ever read) from back in jan

listening: cold turkey, deadweight, rings

fav early bit:

They stood in the kitchen, Aki staring at Shinjiro, Shinjiro staring at the pot. He didn’t know what to say. Aki’s haircut pissed him off, the flakes of dried cum in his stomach hair pissed him off, but he didn’t feel angry. Standing there, he could feel himself warming under the weight of Aki’s gaze.

fav late addition:

After a moment Shinjiro leaned against Aki and Aki squeezed him gently, not saying anything, just taking his weight.

[staceymcgillicuddy]

📚 & 🏅 for the fic ask game!

I am like the Elmo fire gif about these. Thank you!

📚 Do you read your own fic?

Only to edit it before posting. I try and give myself a week or so between writing and editing so that I'm looking at what I wrote with fresh eyes, which helps. However, once it's posted, I only look if I need to reference something for an upcoming chapter ("oh god, did Chrissy ever mention her brother?") because reading it just makes me want to pull it down and re-edit it again. 🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I have spent the past week doing an out-loud final pass of the next book I'm publishing and I hate everything about it, so I am proud that I finished doing that without deleting the manuscript from my hard drive.

Beyond that, I would say that I'm proud I finally knuckled down and worked out a gameplan beyond ~vibes for the final run of Soul, and that I have a rough outline for my next book.

[northwestofinsanity]

HI AGAIN!!!

SO sorry for being gone for a hot minute. Life gets so busy and then i just fall asleep 😭

IM A HUGE SUPERTRAMP AND CHEAP TRICK FAN!! Theyre such big comfort bands for me! Also do you have any albums youd recomend to me by the who? Ive been wanting to get into their music more seriously!

Also i am SO glad to hear that you like elo and billy squier! Some tracks id recommend are, rich kid, young girls, learn how to live, all night long, the musics alright, too daze gone... all great tracks you should listen to! also idk if its a lesser known track but also shes a runner if you havent heard that one either! (really all of his debut album is perfect... really ALL the tracks on his first 4 albums are flawless) also just listen to his songs he did for fast times at ridgemont high and st elmos fire! AND AND!!! have you listened to his christmas song?? I'm sure youd recognize it once you hear it but i LOVE christmas is the time to say i love you 🫶

And i DO have my own physical music collection! i have a million records, cassettes, and 8-tracks! records are my favorite to collect! I always go after first pressings or at least as close to the original release year!

Aaand when it comes to holidy prep... I really just like buying presents for my loved ones :-] I love picking out something i know will make them so excited! I also love doing anything that has to do with christmas lights and figuring out what recipes i want to use for christmas dinner 🤩

-⭐

Hi!

Oh, don’t worry -it is A-OK!  I’m in veterinary school, and it’s a very lecture heavy time up until the end of the semester… I actually have a test on Monday with 43 hours worth of lecture content on it from the last two weeks of class (not gonna say what that does to my nerves!), and then I’ve got another lecture heavy week before the final.  And when I’m on break, I go back to my job working 12 hour shifts in the hospital… so there’s quite a few days I can relate with coming home and being *done* XD

Oh my goodness, Supertramp and Cheap Trick… Supertramp got me through so much a couple of years ago when I was at peak hyperfixation with them.  That piano solo on “School” still is just one of the best things in the world!  And Cheap Trick was probably my first true band hyperfixation way back when I was thirteen.  I spent so many nights in the summer between seventh and eighth grade, watching interviews on YouTube, and falling head over heels in love with Tom Petersson.  First of many rock star crushes I have had! (And he’s *so* sweet…)  I’ve become a lot closer with other bands since then, but they have a very special place in my heart for starting it all.

It’s possible I’ve heard that Billy Squier Christmas song, though I’m not placing it off the top of my head.  I’ll be spending a lot of time in this weekend prepping for Monday, so I’ll definitely put him on my streaming radio tomorrow and give those songs a listen!  I like to check out some newer things, or check in with bands I’m not as close with about this far out from finals, anyway, because then I can save some of the effect of my emotional support bands for when I need it most.  Or, occasionally, I go into a hype and find myself with a new emotional support band going into it …and that’s how I fell into my most recent band hype back in the Spring!

The Who are really one of my favorites that slowly sneaked up from being a casual favorite to a true top level one without a bunch of fanfare like my other bands have given me (it also sort of happened while I was still hyped on Supertramp), but there’s an album I revisited around that time that likely had a lot to do with it.  I love Quadrophenia.  It’s one of my definitive comfort albums, and it’s one of those rock-opera concept albums that never really hit the same without being played all the way through, because it’s all supposed to connect (most of the songs work alone, but they’re just better together).  But since it’s a double, it can be hard to find the time to really do that.  So it became an album I would always listen to whenever I was home sick from school or work, and there’s sort of a synthesizer motif that reappears throughout it that has a very soothing effect to me.  I associate it with being comfortable at home and feeling better from that, which makes me like it even more!  I also like almost all the songs on Who’s Next.  Tommy has become a favorite as well.  It also has a similar setup to Quadrophenia, but with Tommy, there’s a lot more songs that just do not work out of context.  It’s probably a more fun album, even though I don’t have that comfort association with it.

Really, a lot of my love for The Who comes from their dynamic and their antics, though… they are hilariously chaotic!  I wouldn’t be surprised actually if Cheap Trick (Rick Nielsen, especially) took inspiration with some of their antics, even though I don’t think there’s too many bands that have been able to top The Who on that front!

All of those holiday prep things are stuff I also enjoy… I also like to do art for some of my family, and I’m really looking forward to when finals are over so I can make some!

[smthabsolutelyunhinged]

~ INTRODUCTION ~

HI MY LOVES, IM EMI <3

she/her. pansexual. cisfem. pisces sun. cancer moon. white. american. INFP. 4w5. hufflepuff. marauders stan. james potter + remus lupin + pandora rosier kinnie. aspiring writer/author. artist. bookworm. music lover. halloween enthusiast. broadway lover. massive fan of anything whimsy/gothic/romantic/etc. at some point i might link my spotify/pintrest, but idk yet.

IMPORTANT INFO UNDER THE CUT <3

*I CANNOT DONATE TO ANYONE. i will reblog if people ask, BUT if i reblog donation requests and it ends up being a scam i will delete the posts. (and if anyone has proof anything is a scam please let me know and i'll take the posts down)*

*i am a minor (17), but i do interact with nsfw content at my own discretion. i am perfectly ok with asks/requests for nsfw headcanons—or thoughts about existing nsfw headcanons—for characters from my fandoms (please understand that while i allow them, i might choose not to answer them based on my own comfort levels at the time of receiving them). HOWEVER as of this moment, i do not actively write smut/nsfw one shots, fan fics, drabbles, etc.*

[any of this can change at any point and i will make it known if it does, but for the time being i do ask that any nsfw requests be for headcanons/thoughts about hcs only].

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

please do ~ dm me (please i’ll literally marry you idc, also talk to me i’m cool), asks, anonymous asks, reblog (obviously), comment, like, send me random thoughts/ideas/headcanons/music recs, interact with me in any way that isn’t like hateful/gross/weird (i’ll cry. dont do it. i’ll cry and it’ll be your fault.) {flirting is allowed tho - i’ll flirt back and then marry you, again idc‼️} also moots and anons are allowed (please do) to come up with other nicknames/use petnames/etc {i like them, i’m a chronically depressed, anxious, words of affirmation girlie with family issues, and i like the validation :)}.

please don’t ~ be weird, hateful, creepy, or gross in any way because i will block you immediately, (and release my scary, aggressive, friend *cough cough ace cough cough* on you, and they will bite you (not in a hot and sexy way either)).

<3 shows ~

the vampire diaries. criminal minds. one tree hill. the originals. outer banks. the 100. gilmore girls. supernatural. heartstopper. boy meets world. downton abbey. chesapeake shores. daisy jones and the six.

<3 movies ~

pretty woman. mystic pizza. twister (1996). little women (1994/2019). hocus pocus. princess and the frog. the harry potter movies. the hunger games. divergent. twilight. coraline. the nightmare before christmas. notting hill. two weeks notice. a cinderella story (2001). the princess diaries. scream (the og trilogy). st elmos fire. the dark knight. pride and predjudice (2005). the many adventures of winnie the pooh. titanic. five feet apart. pirates of the carribean. captain america: civil war. avengers: infinity war. sense and sensibility. the addams family. the family man.

<3 books ~

daisy jones and the six. the harry potter series. the inheritance games trilogy. shatter me. frankenstein. the picture of dorian grey. warrior cats. tales from redwall series. the hunger games trilogy. divergent trilogy. the twilight saga. the chronicles of narnia. the land of stories. the cheerleaders.

<3 other fandoms & music ~

marauders, one direction, harry styles, taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, lana del rey, ethel cain, michael jackson, hozier, noah kahan, abba, fleetwood mac, chappel roan, olivia rodrigo, daisy jones and the six, the weeknd, childish gambino, shawn mendes, jonas brothers, guns and roses, birdy, etc.. (i can almost always find something to like about music- so i listen to a lot of it aside from whats listed)…

<3 tags ~ i might not have actually added these yet :)

#emi thinks - headcanons, fandom thoughts, and fandom ideas

#emi rants - rants and rambles about any and everything

#emi writes - anything i write even tho i havent posted any yet

#emiasks - questions for you guys, questions to the void, anything of that vibe

#emithirsts - me simping over people that don’t exist, being thirsty on the main, that’s it-

#my loves - asks, anons, etc

#gayfroggie<3 - noni’s tag

*there will be individual tags for moots if you want them, so just pick/ask for one, and i’ll assign them <333*

*i currently don’t have any specified anons ~ all emojis are available so if you want to be one just ask :)*

<3 moots ~ i’ll add more as i get them >:)

@xaviisconfused @dilutedmayowater @therewasnofloorbtw @aesthetic-writer18 @crybabygh0sty @noh07

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi, my name is Kiana! Can I get a match up for Blue Exorcist? (If you struggle to pick one I am polyamorous 👉🏻👈🏻)

She/her, demigirl, demisexual, and demiromantic. I'm practically a demigod :bad elmo fire gif here: (sorry LOL)

I currently have my hair dyed pink with purple towards the roots and dirty blonde roots. I need to bleach and dye again 😭 blue eyes and glow in the dark pale ass skin LOL 5'8" and kinda chubby TwT I have curly mid-back length hair.

I'm a Sagittarius, ISFJ and type 2w3 ennaegram. I'm left handed \o/

I tend to wear a graphic tee, hoodie, and leggings whenever I go out just because of how practical it is but I do enjoy wearing dresses and flowy skirts when I get the chance! I love thigh high socks BUT they hate me because my thighs and calves are too thicc. (Seriously! No one thinks of how thick our calves can be in a lot of brands and it sucks!)

I tend to ramble a lot and I'm sorry this is so long 😭. My favorite color is cyan (00C5FF to be exact). I currently have six cats because we had one then adopted another one... And... It turned out she was pregnant. We love all our fur babies and fur grand babies TwT

I have three tattoos dedicated to cats in my life who have passed and two to two of the cats I currently have. I like playing video games (lately mostly FFXIV, Stardew Valley, Persona 5, and Pokemon). I love food and tend to cook pretty well but I can get exhausted because of chronic pain. 😭

I'm introverted but I can seem extroverted in certain situations, but in truth it's because I survive on very specific/small social interactions. My boyfriend? No problem at all. A stranger? Need to go home and nap afterwards.

I snort when I'm laughing hard and I hate it. My coughs sound fake or painful and no in-between LOL. Anyway I'll leave it at that bc I feel like I've written a small book on myself 😭😔🫠

Hi Kiana! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. The "demigod" joke made me laugh so hard. The Elmo fire gif only made it better. I hope you like your matchup!

In Blue Exorcist, I match you with...

I think you and Shima would get along really well. You’re actually pretty similar both in personality and your habits.

As inappropriate as it is, he really likes your thick thighs. If they’re something you’re insecure about, he will do his very best to show you that he loves everything about you.

He also loves your laugh! He thinks it’s really contagious and whenever you laugh, he can’t help but join in.

I feel like Shima would enjoy cooking with you, as long as it’s something you prefer doing alone. He likes being able to spend quality time with you and the fact that you end up with something tasty at the end is an added bonus.

Playing video games with Shima is great fun. He can be supportive, he can take the lead, or he can be competitive. Whatever you and the game call for, he can do.

[ladysternchen]

Yet Were Its Making Good, For This- Sparked (part 3)

“Well, then a lot of bonds will be formed on this journey.” They both giggled, not needing to explain any further- almost everyone knew of all the romance going on in their camp. “Aye, but that is testing, is it not, not truly bonding?” Elwë said softly. “I mean, how are you supposed to know if you are drawn to a nís or a nér if you don’t know how you feel when things get more intimate? I could not tell for myself, certainly.” “Lucky Lord Enel can’t hear you speak now.” Mablung pointed out with a barely suppressed chuckle in his voice, and watched Elwë wince at the very thought. “But I agree. One could argue, though, that it needs no testing, that you’d recognise your love when meeting them, regardless of their sex? And that maybe it only feels to you like one needs to know in advance because you feel you have to push any thought of bonding away from you right now? That you cannot even give in to the idea of feeling for anyone so deeply?” Elwë regarded Mablung for a while, looking at him in something like admiration. “You have a wisdom far beyond your years, Mablung.” he said. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll find out one day. But be that as it may, I am truly glad to have you as my friend. And not just because you already give more solid advise when it comes to love than most adults.” Mablung smiled even as a strange sensation welled up in his chest. He looked at the firelight dancing on Elwë’s silver hair, and inwardly sighed. If only he could give himself such solid advise, for try as he may, he could not have denied his feelings towards Elwë had his life depended on it. As he lay by the dying fire later, Mablung tried to recall exactly when the admiration he had always felt for both Elwë and Finwë had turned into more, if indeed seeing Elwë leave Cuiviénen to venture into the unknown had been the turning point. True, what he had felt then had been something quite apart from admiration, but rather sympathy and a feeling of dread. He had very much feared for all three ambassadors, and his thoughts had ever been on them, though he had stopped voicing them after his parents started to be concerned. They had told him that he was too young to shoulder such sorrow, and that trying to make everyone well was impossible, most of all for a child so young. Despite his parents counsel, Mablung had started to spend much time with Elmo, and before long, they had truly become friends. Mablung would make sure that Elmo joined their games rather than sit alone, and when the elfling would suddenly be overcome by tears in the middle of even the most joyful games, Mablung would comfort him. Mostly, that was due simply to Mablung’s nature and his friendship to Elmo, but a small part of him also felt that this was something he could actually do for Elwë. The day Ingwë, Finwë and Elwë had at last returned to them had been one filled with joy and wonder. Changed they were indeed, a light shining in their eyes that faintly recalled that which shone in Lord Oromë’s, and they had been dressed in fine raiments that had sent Míriel into fits of excitement. Mablung chuckled at the thought even now, and how they had all teased them about Míriel being happier about Finwë’s clothes than his safe return. But the moment that really stood out clearest in his memory was of Elmo running at his brother, blinded by tears, and of Elwë kneeling down in the gras regardless of his fine garments and enclosing Elmo in his embrace. Somewhere between then and now, all those emotions had mingled into a true and deep love, and young though he was, Mablung knew in his heart that this love would be at once his greatest treasure and gravest peril.