#i said i might last night and i did

[deathfavor]

I know I mentioned this a little bit last night with the screenshots. But it really is fascinating seeing Seiroku’s inherent contradictory-seeming nature to certain aspects.

He mocks and says friends and comrades are useless trash to not be worth saving or fighting for. Based on the limited discussion that Seiroku mentions towards Naoe, his band prior to the Obsidian Eight was NOT a good experience for him. 

But as long as they are in a band, those with special powers always get the short end of the stick. Bands are organizations where the weak masses cling to the few strong ones. None of them hesitate to push the hardest jobs onto others while they kick back and offer hollow encouragement. They only force you to carry their hopes and dreams They expect more and more. I’m sure your friends are the same worthless trash not even worth saving.

And....he isn’t entirely wrong, not completely. People DO project their hopes and dreams onto others, we even see it in the series, the same way we see the masses or certain cast members rely on only a handful to be the real fire power. It’s not a particularly STRONG point to the Uesugi because their strength COMES from that connection with one another (although it really is still applicable as the majority looked to Naoe and/or Kuroko to help them/tell them what to do). But we see it with others. Even if it is more positive since its main characters, but it’s still there under the surface. So one can imagine how much Seiroku was put under pressure. It’s like trying to swim while being dragged down. The backlash if something goes wrong, things just become ‘expected’ and no longer praise worthy or the effort acknowledged. The higher and stronger they’re viewed, the deeper the fall. Seiroku clearly had and has no interest in being any sort of motivating figure for others. He just wanted to do his part. Not to mention the hollow words of encouragement and pushing the hardest jobs onto others means he himself likely both observed and experienced that. It leaves a bitter taste when someone offers you fake happiness when they want to see you fail, or make you do everything while they get benefits from it. Aka like every school group project.

But at the same time, Seiroku DOES try to connect with the other members of the Obsidian Eight. It’s not a BAND. It’s a GROUP. And for the most part, they’re all strong. Different levels obviously, but it’s not like in a band with hundreds or thousands of significantly weaker members clinging helplessly to you and projecting onto you. For the hate and disgust and disdain he has for the bushi bands, its not a reflection of Seiroku’s interest in connections. He clearly puts in the effort, especially with Shiro that we’ve seen so far (which is rather hilarious considering Shiro is.....well......Shiro), to be able to have the connection and chat with others. He isn’t a lone wolf type, but he does see a clear divide between the weak and the strong and only wants to be around those who he sees as equals or at least in the strong category.

Now this is less headcanon-y and more just discussion. And all of it is very subjective because summaries only offer so much and I’d rather read the actual translations whenever they eventually come out, especially for what Seiroku himself says. But in regards to chapter 139. It’s mentioned the doors for the eight basically create whatever the members imagine or what they might wish for. An eternal dream so to speak. Although it’s mentioned Seiroku’s is probably his previous life. But I doubt that. More likely, its what Seiroku would have wished for. Or maybe it’s the beginning of it when things were nice before Seiroku became bitter and hateful towards bushi bands. Again, translations will play a lot into this. But it is interesting it is in fighting oni within a band, but a band he’s welcomed in and treated equally. More like how he is in the Obsidian Eight than what he likely was treated like in reality (or in reality once his strength showed itself fully - again dependent). Which really does just show he does WANT connections and a close circle to him, especially if it is Seiroku’s ideal dream. And also his want to play doctor more since he doesn’t get to do that as often anymore.

[chemicalarospec]

you've heard of: aroacespec "is this person flirting with me" confusion, now get ready for: Does this person think I'm flirting with them (and also are they flirting "back" with me) because I accidentally bumped into them a lot?

[qsmprambling]

Something I find interesting is that Bad always has always played a bit of the fool when the Federation is involved. He pretends he doesn't understand things, he pretends furniture is enough to distract him from anything (sometimes it does, but other times he is clearly playing it up), he says he doesn't know how he got into this secret room, etc. He stays as neutral as possible without siding with them.

And for a while that seems to work. They keep using furniture to distract him. They never punish him even when he shows up in a Federation building, because he's just a silly guy and doesn't know how he got here.

But... Someone at the Federation has noticed. And the reason we can know this is because of the survey and the reward.

A lot of people have been given tasks recently, and they have all received the rewards that were offered to them. Everyone except Bad, who got scammed out of his initial reward and instead given a lot of furniture.

BUT! The fact that he was offered the question as a reward in the first place says a lot. It says the Federation knew that it needed to offer him a reward that would be enough to entice him to do the task (like the trident for Philza, and spawn eggs for Forever, etc.), and what reward did they deem suitable for BadBoyHalo? Answers. Answers to absolutely ANYTHING he could ask them.

It was an insane reward to offer, completely disproportionate to the task that was being requested of him. But apparently this was the only reward the lower case Cucurucho, Osito Bimbo, calculated would be enough to motivate Bad to do a task for him. It had to offer something INSANE to convince Bad to work for the Federation.

When he was given the furniture, the book that apologised for the confusion was in upper case. The original Cucurucho saw what was offered and pulled back, going with it's old reliable technique of distracting him with nice furniture instead. After all, Bad is silly, Bad is gullible, give him some shiny furniture and he'll give up on anything.

But that means... Osito Bimbo has not fallen for Bad's ruse. Osito Bimbo didn't even consider offering furniture - the offer was an answer to any question, because Osito Bimbo calculated that was the reward that would get Bad to cooperate.

Just interesting what this could be saying about the Cucuruchos and how they view Bad differently...

[anna-scribbles]

everyday I wake up and put on my Valentine's themed heart-shaped glasses for thirteen February, and every night i go to sleep with a Loveybug-esque pep in my step. don't worry

aww anon this is so sweet and I appreciate it SO much!! hang onto those heart-shaped glasses you will need them come wednesday<33(hopefully)

sneak peek for your patience

[oleander-comic]

Chapter Four

[teamhawkeye]

spent from 10:30 PM to about 3:40 AM at the emergency vet last night with my brother's puppy, Snoop. she's okay, but she ate something that made her sick and I was super scared in light of Stringer's bloat so i wasn't taking chances and took her

she came home with me early this morning and we went back for a recheck around noon and she's gotten the all clear, so here's hoping all dogs stay healthy from here on out!

and no more emergency vet visits, please

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[kathrynmjaneway]

i came out to my parents last night 😄

[zoppzoop]

oh also someone who is a good friend but we don't really talk too much, clocked me as someone who would be into choking. it was fucking funny as hell

[acourtofquestions]

"I didn't break," she said quietly. His heart cracked at the words. "I didn't tell them anything."

She didn't say it for praise, to boast. But rather to tell him, her consort, of where they stood in this war. What their enemies might know.

"I knew you wouldn't," he managed to say.

"She ... she tried to convince me that this was the bad dream. When Cairn was done with me, or during it, I don't know, she'd try to worm her way into my mind." She glanced around the cave, as if she could see the world beyond it. "She spun fantasies that felt so real..." She bobbed under the surface. Perhaps she'd needed the cooling water of the lake to be able to hear her own voice again; perhaps she needed the distance between them so she could speak these words. She emerged, slicking back her hair with a hand. "They felt like this."

Half of him didn't want to know, but he asked, "What sort of illusions?"

A long pause. "It doesn't matter now."

Too soon to push—if ever.

Then she asked softly, "How long?"

It took the entirety of his three centuries of training to keep the devastation, the agony for her, from his face. "Two months, three days, and seven hours."

Her mouth tightened, either at the length of time, or the fact that he'd counted every single one of those hours apart.

She ran her fingers through her hair, its strands floating around her in the water. Still too long for two months to have passed. "They healed me after each ... session. So that I stopped knowing what had been done and what was in my mind and where the truth lay." Erase her scars, and Maeve stood a better chance at convincing her none of this was real. "But the healers couldn't remember how long my hair was, or Maeve wanted to confuse me further, so they grew it out." Her eyes darkened at the memory of why, perhaps, they had needed to regrow her hair in the first place.

"Do you want me to cut it back to the length it was when I last saw you?" His words were near-guttural.

"No." Ripples shivered around her. "I want it so I can remember."

What had been done to her, what she'd survived and what she had protected.

Even if the woman treading water before him didn't seem to have vengeance on her mind. Not so much as a hint of the burning rage that fueled her.

He didn't blame her. Knew it would take time, time and distance, to heal the internal wounds. If they could ever really heal at all.

But he'd work with her, help in whatever way he could. And if she never returned to who she had been before this, he would not love her any less.

Aelin dunked her head, and when she emerged, she said, "Maeve was about to put a Valg collar around my neck. She left to retrieve it." The scent of her lingering fear drifted toward him, and Rowan lurched a step closer to the water's edge. "It's why I—why I got away. She had me moved to the army camp for safekeeping, and I ..." Her voice stalled, yet she met his stare. Let him read the words she could not say, in that silent way they'd always been able to communicate. Escape wasn't my intention.

"No, Fireheart," he breathed, shaking his head, horror creeping over him. "There ... there was no collar."

She blinked, head angling. "That was a dream, too?"

His heart cracked as he struggled for the words. Made himself voice them. "No—it was real. Or Maeve thought it was. But the collars, the Valg presence ... It was a lie that we crafted. To draw Maeve out, hopefully away from you and Doranelle."

Only the faint lapping of water sounded. "There was no collar?"

Rowan lowered himself to his knees and shook his head. "I—Aelin, if I'd known what she'd do with the knowledge, what you'd decide to do-"

He might have lost her. Not from Maeve or the gods or the Lock, but from his own damned choices. The lie he'd spun.

Aelin drifted beneath the surface again. So deep that when the flare happened, it was little more than a flutter. The light burst from her, rippling across the lake, illumining the stones, the slick ceiling above. A silent eruption. His breathing turned ragged. But she swam toward the surface again, light streaming off her body like tendrils of clouds. It had nearly vanished when she emerged.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. Again, that angle of the head. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He did, though. He'd added to her terror, her desperation. He'd— "If you had not planted that lie for Maeve, if she had not told me, I don't think we'd be here right now," she said.

He tried to rein in the twisting in his gut, the urge to reach for her, to beg for her forgiveness. Tried and tried.

She only asked, "What of the others?" She didn't know-couldn't know how and why and where they'd all parted ways. So Rowan told her, as succinctly and calmly as he could.

When he finished, Aelin was quiet for long minutes.

She stared out into the blackness, the rippling of her treading water the only sound. Her body had nearly lost that freshly forged glow.

Then she pivoted back toward him. "Maeve said you and the others were in the North. That you'd been spotted by her spies there. Did you plant that deception for her, too?"

He shook his head. "Lysandra has been thorough, it seems."

Aelin's throat bobbed. "I believed her." It sounded like a confession, somehow.

So Rowan found himself saying, "I told you once that even if death separated us, I would rip apart every world until I found you." He gave her a slash of a smile. "Did you really believe this would stop me?'

She pursed her mouth, and at last, those agonizing emotions began to surface in her eyes. "You were supposed to save Terrasen."

"Considering that the sun shines, I'd say Erawan hasn't won yet. So we'll save it together."

He didn't let himself think of the final cost of destroying Erawan. And Aelin seemed in no hurry to discuss it, either, as she said, "You should have gone to Terrasen. It needs you."

"I need you more." He didn't balk from the stark honesty roughening his voice. "And Terrasen will need you, too. Not Lysandra masquerading as you, but you."

A shallow nod. "Maeve raised her army. I doubt it was only to guard me while she was away."

He'd put the thought aside, to consider later. "It might just be to shore up her defenses, should Erawan win across the sea."

"Do you truly think that's what she plans to do with it?"

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

And if Maeve meant to bring that army to Terrasen, to either unite with Erawan or simply be another force battering their kingdom, to strike when they were weakest, they had to hurry. Had to get back. Immediately. His mate's eyes shone with the same understanding and dread.

Aelin's throat bobbed as she whispered, "I'm so tired, Rowan."

His heart strained again. "I know, Fireheart."

He opened his mouth to say more, to coax her onto land so he might at least hold her if words couldn't ease her burden, but that's when he saw it.

A boat, ancient and every inch of it carved, drifted out of the gloom.

"Get back to shore." The boat wasn't drifting—it was being tugged. He could just barely make out two dark forms slithering beneath the surface.

Aelin didn't hesitate, yet her strokes remained steady as she swam for him. She didn’t balk at the hand he extended, and he wrapped his cloak around her while the boat ambled past.

But Aelin turned toward them, hair dripping onto the stone at her bare feet. Half a thought from her could have had her dry, yet she made no move to do so. "We're being hunted."

"We know that," Lorcan shot back, and were it not for the fact that Aelin was currently allowing him to rest a hand upon her shoulder, Rowan would have thrown the male into the lake.

But Aelin's features didn't shift from that graveness, that unruffled calm. "The only way to the sea is through these caves." It was an outrageous claim.

"And I suppose they told you that?" Lorcan's face was hard as granite.

"Watch it," Rowan snarled. Fenrys indeed bared his teeth at the dark-haired warrior, fur bristling. But Aelin said simply, "Yes." Her chin didn't dip an inch. "The land above is crawling with soldiers and spies. Going beneath them is the only way."

Elide stepped forward. "I will go." She cut a cold glance toward Lorcan. "You can take your chances above, if you're so disbelieving." Lorcan's jaw tightened, and a small part of Rowan relished seeing the delicate Lady of Perranth fillet the centuries-hardened warrior with a few words. "Considering the potential pitfalls of the situation is wise."

"We don't have time to consider," Rowan cut in before Elide could voice the retort on her tongue. "We need to keep moving. Gavriel stalked forward to study the moored boat and what seemed to be bundles of supplies on its sturdy planks. "How will we navigate our way, though?"

"We'll be escorted," Aelin answered.

"And if they abandon us?" Lorcan challenged. Aelin leveled unfazed eyes upon him.

"Then you'll have to find a way out, I suppose." A hint-just a spark-of temper belied those calm words. There was nothing else to debate after that.

And they had little to pack. The others gave Aelin privacy to dress by the fire while they inspected the boat, and when his mate emerged again, clad in boots, pants, and various layers beneath her gray surcoat, the sight of her in clothes from Mistward was enough to make his gut clench.

No longer a naked, escaped captive. Yet none of that wickedness, that joy and unchecked wildness illuminated her face.

The rest of their party waited on the boat, seated on the benches built into its high-lipped sides. Fenrys and Elide both sat as seemingly far from Lorcan as they could get, Gavriel a golden, long-suffering buffer between them.

Rowan lingered at the shore's edge, a hand extended for Aelin while she approached. Each of her steps seemed considered—as if she still marveled at being able to move freely. As if still adjusting to her legs without the burden of chains.

"Why?" Lorcan mused aloud, more to himself. "Why go to these lengths for us?"

He got his answer—they all did—a heartbeat later. Aelin halted a few feet away from the boat and Rowan's outstretched hand. She turned back toward the cave itself. The Little Folk peeked from those birch branches, from the rocks, from behind stalagmites. Slowly, deeply, Aelin bowed to them. Rowan could have sworn all those tiny heads lowered in answer.

A pair of bony grayish hands rose above a nearby rock, something glittering held between them, and set the object on the stone.

Rowan went still. A crown of silver and pearl and diamond gleamed there, fashioned into upswept swan's wings

"The Crown of Mab," Gavriel breathed. But Fenrys looked away, toward the looming dark, his tail curling around him.

Aelin staggered a step closer to the crown. "It—it fell into the river."

Rowan didn't want to know how she'd encountered it, why she'd seen it fall into a river. Maeve had kept her sisters' two crowns under constant guard, only bringing them out to be displayed in her throne room on state occasions. In memory of her siblings, she'd intoned. Rowan had sometimes wondered if it was a reminder that she had outlasted them, had kept the throne for herself in the end.

The grayish hand slipped over the rock's edge again and nudged the crown in silent gesture. Take it.

"You want to know why?" Gavriel softly asked Lorcan as Aelin strode for the rock. Nothing but solemn reverence on her face. "Because she is not only Brannon's Heir, but Mab's, too."

A throwback to her great-great-grandmother, Maeve had taunted her. Who had inherited her strength, her immortal lifespan.

Aelin's fingers closed around the crown, lifting it gently. It sparkled like living moonlight between her hands.

My sister Mab's line ran true, Elide claimed Maeve had said on the beach. In every way, it seemed.

But Aelin made no move to don the crown while she approached him once more, her gait steadier this time. Trying not to dwell on the unbearable smoothness of her hand as it wrapped around his, Rowan helped her aboard, then climbed in himself before freeing the ropes tethering them to the shore.

Gavriel went on, awe in every word, "And that makes her their queen, too."

Aelin met Gavriel's gaze, the crown near-glowing in her hands. "Yes," was all she said as the boat sailed into the darkness.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

So apparently I don't get to let my license lapse 😔 but also why was this his immediate reaction lmaoooo

[kiki-strike]

PTSD is so stupid saw a jar of biscoff cookie butter at the store and went ha that’s the brand they had in res. (Completely unaffected). Then went home and had a panic attack about it (????)

[lesbiansanemi]

Do you think if I wish hard enough my mom will get electrocuted by a string of Christmas lights and just go up in a cloud of smoke. It’d be a Christmas miracle

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[marymycete]

hi hello — consider this an inbox call ! give this post a like and I'll send a few asks from rose

[emodanascully]

i'm thinking of writing my dad a letter explaining that now that i'm older i understand that he did his best as a father with the resources and skills he had and that aside from his deeply unstable emotional life (and quite possibly undiagnosed bpd) he was/is a good father who has always been involved in his kids' lives and clearly deeply cares about and loves us and has always wanted the best for me and my siblings although our opinions on what that is differ drastically in some departments. cos i have said some things to him that have caused him to carry a probably almost unbearable amount of guilt over causing me severe emotional trauma. like i'm pretty sure he's convinced he's going to hell for what he unintentionally did to me. and i just want him to know that i'm not angry anymore and that i understand him now and that i've forgiven him and love him despite everything.