#this took FOREVER to write

[shady-tavern]

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange. 

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked. 

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open. 

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries. 

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house. 

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed. 

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake. 

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well." 

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage. 

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them. 

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing. 

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden. 

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway. 

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out. 

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward. 

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people. 

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs. 

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

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[vinegar-rights]

Also I’d love to see the other doodles you have of that headcanon !! I love ur art <3

Im so glad u do! Heres some :3! Tw for skinny seymour (older art). Ill add more to this headcanon that ive been cooking in my mind here:

Seymour would use sh to cope with his seated anger and self deprecation. I feel like im being so edgy when i say this… but pricking your finger on a thorn wouldnt produce that much blood to feed a budding plant. As twoey grows, eventually it wasnt a coping mechanism anymore, but to only feed audrey ii. Hed wear his gardening gloves more often to hide swollen fingers and bandaged wrists, and then taller gloves as it becomes more intense. Audrey would begin to notice and become worried, and seymour would just brush her off, explaining that whenever he holds gardening shears he “slips”, or just blaming his rampant clumsiness. With audrey ii, i see her as a representation of his desires and fantasies. She’d keep coaxing him to indulge in this behavior

Eventually twoey doesnt need to rely on seymours blood anymore, but the power is still there. She still uses him and hes still dependent on her.

Seymour in both films are not squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, but the guilt and self awareness is what makes him sick. Hes letting himself be used by twoey, and dig into this hole he will never come out of. Hes easily manipulated and coerced, an example would be mr mushnik using seymours dream of having a parental figure in order to keep him in the flower shop and take away that chance of seymour leaving skid row, *his dream*. I see this as a read on how vulnerable seymour is, and how easily he can be taken advantage of.

Hes very quick to try to kill himself in the ‘84 film, which i take into consideration for. In the musical he does technically kill himself, entering twoeys maw as he vows to kill her from the inside. His recklessness and spiraling mental health at the end of the show is something I acknowledge for this headcanon.

So in conclusion: seymours vulnerability, self deprecation, unsteady mental health, unusually calm reaction to blood/gore, and some implications in the musical have lead me to believe that seymour has/had self harmed 😗👍

[braineater444]

To Be a Princess

Chapter 2

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi/bonten

TW: Disordered eating, sex trafficking, drugging, violence, cannibalism, gore, heavy drinking, terrible vibes, vomit, misogyny

Your silk pajamas are soaked in sticky, wet, congealed red. You’re in Hajime’s office again, but this time the man’s lifeless body is on the floor in front of you.

A strange feeling makes its way up your spine. You have everything to do with this. Now you have to repent.

“I’m sorry.” You say over the corpse. Your eyes fill with tears, but there’s no use crying. This is the bed that you made. You must lie in it.

Bloodied shaking hands lift his head to your mouth. He’s so much lighter than a dead man should be.

“You’re pitiful. Pathetic.” Your mother’s voice rings out from behind you, but when you turn, she’s nowhere to be found. “Do it. Clean your mess.”

Who are you to disrespect your mother? When have you ever had the nerve?

The flesh of the human cheek is easier to bite through than you’d imagined. Soft. Supple. Wet. Cold. This is the only way to make up for your crime. You must consume all of him.

You chew and chew and chew. It won’t go down. You try to swallow again and again. Your mother’s screams of horror ring out from behind you, and suddenly you’re able to swallow. You gag and heave, but you’re okay.

You go back in. Same cheek, but this time, your tongue slips between meat, teeth, and gums. Blood washes over your tongue before you rip through another piece of his flesh. Only this time, he screams.

His eyes are wide open, and his horrified screams mix with that of your mothers. You back away on the palms of your hands and the balls of your feet.

“I’m sorry!”

He still yells. Your mother tells you that you are not.

“I said I’m sorry!”

The agonized screams continue.

You repeat it over and over. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m sorry!” You yell back. You’re breathless. This feels like running a marathon.

✮✮✮

Your body jerks awake, and you’re greeted by the sight of Hajime’s concerned face looming over you. He rests a soft hand on your cheek and your body stiffens.

“There’s no need to cry.” His thumbs glide under your tear-filled eyes. His words are muttered. “It’s just a bad dream.”

You nod. He plants a kiss on your cheek and pats your head. “Go back to sleep.”

It’s hard to do as he says. 

You turn your body away from him, trying to settle in under the covers, but it’s too hot. You throw the blanket off of yourself and curl into the fetal position. You can feel the metal on your ankle getting colder the longer it’s exposed to the frigid bedroom air. Now it’s too cold. You sit up.

Hajime taps away at the keyboard of his laptop. He stops for a moment, then starts again. You yank at the chain of handcuffs on your ankle. It clangs against the bed frame it’s binding you to. The typing stops.

“Don’t start this again.”

“I have to pee.”

Your words are met with a sigh and Hajime closes the laptop. You watch silently as he picks up the key off of his dresser, opens the curtains, and walks to your side of the bed. His black silk pajamas glimmer in the sunlight as he kneels in front of you.

You present your chained leg to him. His hands glide across the smooth skin of your leg. His fingertips are frigid, but you have nothing to say about it. Why would you? He doesn’t care about your discomfort despite how much he feigns concern. He kidnapped you. His lips graze the skin of your shin before he plants a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” He smiles up at you.

A bitterness fills you as you say it back. The last time you refused to speak, he didn’t let you go. That was yesterday and since having to sit in soiled bed sheets for a whole day while he was out, you’ve learned better.

✮✮✮

Hajime doesn’t give you alone time anymore. Your morning piss is an affair for both of you. So is the bath.

It used to be fun when you bathed together, but in the three days since he’s taken away your autonomy, it’s morphed into a new hurdle to jump every morning and night. Today’s appeal is more of the same.

He sticks his hand under the faucet to check the water’s temperature and turns the knob to make it hotter. 

“What was that nightmare about?” He asks as you watch him through the bathroom mirror.

There’s a beat of silence before you remember what he’s talking about.

“You.”

He chuckles. “What do you mean?”

“This bathing together thing. I had a nightmare about it.”

The water stops. You turn to see a tub full of bubbles.

“Why lie? Just say you don’t want to tell me.”

“I just want to bathe it alone.”

“No.” He comes toward you and unbuttons your pajama top. “Maybe one day, but not today.”

“Hajime..” He slides your shirt off of your shoulders and you watch as it hits the ground. “Why?”

“Why what?” He works down your pants and underwear.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Why would I? I told you; I love you.”

Hand in hand, he guides you to the tub. Your feet cut through a thick layer of bubbles before hitting nice warm water.

This isn't love, and since you've been taken hostage, you're not sure it ever was, but this is the first time he's behaved in this manner. 

He cleans you thoroughly but gently. Expert fingers scrub at your scalp, then wash your face, and everywhere else. When his hands touch your private areas, you are quick to startle only for him to smile and say nothing. Really, he hasn’t done anything more invasive than washing you in the days you’ve been here. You’d like to say you know he wouldn’t do something worse, but you can never know for sure anymore.

“Face mask?” He asks at the end, wrapping you in a towel. You shake your head. “Are you hungry?” You shake your head. “I think you should eat something today.”

“I don’t want to.” You shiver in your towel.

“You should. We have somewhere to be tonight.”

“We?”

“It’s a club, so I thought you should come. You can meet my friends and have a good time.”

✮✮✮

You lay silent on the bed, chained up and waiting for Hajime to get back. He’s been gone since the afternoon and now the sun is going down. Hopefully, he’s dead. Hopefully, his line of work has caught up to him and someone killed him. And if he’s dead, someone can find you trapped here and free you, or maybe they won’t. Maybe you don’t deserve it. After all, you didn’t tell anyone what he did. You’re complicit. Why should you be saved?

“I’m sorry.” This is the first thing he says when he walks through the bedroom door. “It’s eight-thirty-six. I should’ve had you ready an hour ago.”

Hajime stops in his tracks as he looks at the bedside table. All the food he left remains untouched. The strawberries he’s cut, the sandwiches he’s made, the protein bar, the plain white rice… all untouched.

“Why are you not eating?”

It’s your hunger strike. You’ll thin out until you die if he doesn’t let you go. “Because I don’t want to be here.”

A look of frustration passes over his features for a brief, easily missed second. He smiles and leans down to you. “If you don’t eat, you’re not going. This could be your last chance ever to get out of here. Do you want to miss it?”

You return his gaze with your own hardened stare. He lets you hold the silence for a moment, with an unflinching, deceptively kind smile. “One bite of everything and I will dress you and we can go.”

He’s right. This could be your last chance to escape. This time, when you do, you’ll go to the police and turn yourself in. Will he come get you from them? Probably not.

He watches with a grin as you begrudgingly take one bite of everything. When you’re done, he dresses you.

✮✮✮

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you do feel beautiful. The black mink fur coat flows down to your ankles and creates warmth in what is an otherwise skimpy outfit. The black sequined skirt and leopard print bustier offer little comfort but an undeniable amount of glamour. Your diamond studs match your diamond choker and the messy updo Hajime tried his best to make perfect doesn’t suffocate them. 

Stepping outside like this isn’t like you. Especially because the heels he’s given you aren’t broken in. You’ve never worn these and they hurt. Surely, you’re ditching them when you make a break for it.

As you follow him into the club, the smell of sweat and mixed perfume replaces the crisp outside air on your face. As Hajime guides you through the crowd, a hand on the small of your back, dancing bodies part like the Red Sea. People smile and greet him with curious looks. Certainly, they wonder who you are. He explains nothing, just greets people back politely. How often does he come here?

Right past the private sections, there’s a door and behind that door is a well-decorated room. In that room, there are unfamiliar faces and Takeomi. Your abductor takes his time introducing them to you.

Mikey, you’ve seen his face on the news. This is Hajime’s boss. This is the guy that wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn to do paperwork. This frail, white-haired freak is who’s in charge. He hardly acknowledges you outside of a glance before bringing a beer bottle to his lips.

Haruchiyo has pink hair and pink eyelashes. More importantly, he’s got huge diamond-shaped scars on his lips and a tattoo on his arm that matches the one on Hajime’s scalp. He smiles, not in a polite way, but one that triggers your fight or flight.

Takeomi, you’ve met before. He nods to you. You wonder if he has a gun you can use right now. Do they all have guns? What are your chances of survival?

Rindou and Ran are brothers, with matching purple and lavender hair and with the same hanafuda tattoo sitting front and center on their necks. The same tattoo that Sanzu and Hajime have. Ultimately, you feel stupid as you realize that it’s their symbol for their little gang and it’s been sitting in plain sight your entire relationship. A wave of internal embarrassment rolls over you. Idiot.

Kanji is clean-cut with slicked-back, greying hair. He pays you no mind as he lights a cigarette and leans back into his corner seat. 

Finally, Kakucho has thick black hair that doesn’t quite cover the scar that wraps around his head and through his left eye. Can he see? Not that he deserves to. Not doing work like this.

After he’s done introducing you, someone, the pink-haired one, speaks up. “You’re not gay?” Lips parted and brows pinching together in confusion. There are snickers around the room, and the longer-haired brother hides his laugh by leaning on his brother’s shoulder. “Not in a rude way. I’m just asking because I thought you were bring- “

“Haruchiyo.” Takeomi pipes up sternly. It’s a bit ironic, you think.

Hajime doesn’t give a response. Instead, he says, “You know what I’m here to do, so please get out.” 

Everyone moves quickly to get out. You even hear someone huff out a “finally.” But before you can make sense of what’s going on, Hajime asserts that one of them has to watch you, and then he tells you to have fun.

A hand grabs yours and you’re being dragged to the bar before you can gain your bearings. The pink-haired one. Haruchiyo. He wants you to drink with him?

“What’s your name again?” He smiles.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right. I’m just gonna call you ‘Girl’, m’kay?”

You look around with half a mind to argue, but with the blaring music and flashing lights, who wants to? You shrug.

“Take shots with me.” His smile is so earnest.

“I can’t.” 

“Somewhere to be?” He gestures with his chin toward the exit behind you. A beat of silence falls between you as his smile threatens to pull apart his scars and then his face.

“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s leaning in close enough for you to hear his lowered voice over all the commotion. “You’re not getting out of here. There’s nowhere you can run where we won’t find you, and none of us are just going to let you go that easily.”

He pulls back to see the horror on your face. That smile brightens.

Half of you wants to ask why. This has nothing to do with them. The other half wants to see if he’s telling the truth. Still, you remain, frozen on your barstool, making a face with your expensive fur coat on.

“Drink with me. You’ll have more fun.”

You do as he says.

The shots come in one after another. Not once do you see him pay? You only watch hazily as he leans over the counter, beams at the bartender, and asks for another round for the both of you.

“You might think that we hate women…” He laughs to himself as he hands you another shot. “But I hired her.” He points at the bartender. “And in many ways, I’m like a woman, too.” But he never elaborates. Just rubs your shoulder as you throw your drink back.

✮✮✮

You don’t know how many shots you take, but it’s enough to have you barefoot on the dancefloor with him. For a while, it’s like you’re there alone. The world looks so beautiful inside the club and the sweat is starting to smell sweet. You’re just moving and embracing the faux freedom you have right now.

You back your glistening body into Haruchiyo’s front. His arms wrap around your waist and you roll your head onto his shoulder. You sway. 

“This is so much better than being stuck in that room,” you hum.

“He locks you in the bedroom?” He asks. You can feel his voice come from his chest as he chuckles. You nod with a dumb smile.

“Haruchiyo…” You are dizzy as the lights change. He hums. “I feel sick.”

He laughs. Fully laughs. And you do too.

“I’m gonna throw up.”

Before you know it, he’s gently guiding you through the crowd and you’re barely there for it. It all feels like floating until your bare feet are met with cold concrete and harsh rocks. 

You must be outside of the back of the building. You meet the brothers there, smoking. The taller one pipes up first. 

“Haru, you got anything?”

“Haru.” You repeat under your breath and giggle at yourself. He’s got a pretty name.

“Not on me. Wanna come to my car?”

You think they’re having a secret staring contest when Haru offers to go to his car. The tall man is almost smiling, and Haru is.

“Ran…” he says sweetly.

Ran.

The taller one, Ran, takes one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it and smothering it with the toe of his boot. “Rindou, please watch her. He drugged her.” He smiles without breaking eyes with Haru. You look between them, only to see they’ve both got shit-eating grins plastered across their face.

“You drugged me?” You look at Haruchiyo. He pays you no mind. When?

He lets you go and as you fall, Rin catches you. He lets you rest your weight against his body.

“Where are her shoes?” Rindou pipes up.

“I’ll find them later.”

Then you’re stuck with Rindou. Whoever he is.

It’s a little humiliating leaning against a man you don’t know because you can hardly stand on your own two feet. Rindou doesn’t seem to mind, though. He stands back to the wall as he smokes his cigarette.

When you try to push yourself off of him, his free hand comes to your back to push you back down. He breaks the silence with a stern voice telling you to stay. 

You’re overheating, and you’ve got to go. 

The next time, he doesn’t push you back down. He lets you stand on shaky legs and watches as you shrug your coat off and onto the ground.

“Where are you going?” He asks. His cigarette is gone. 

“Fu-ucking leaving.” You hiccup. Your stomach growls.

“To where?” There’s amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.”

Even through blurred vision, you can see him frown. He’s messing with you.

You hobble your way back through the door you came out of. The lights on the inside are so… bright. Brighter than before. Sickening. They’re doing this on purpose. 

You’re pushed around as you try to make your way through the crowd. Your stomach is rolling around inside you. 

“Move.” You say to random people. They don’t hear you. They don’t care.

It’s so fucking hot inside this place. You just want out.

When you make it outside, you pause for a moment to feel the cool air. Spit fills your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Your arm comes up to wipe it away.

You don’t know which way to walk. A phone would be nice, but it’s okay. You can make it work. You can find someone with a phone later. The streets are devoid of people right now, save for a few cars driving by.

You choose a direction and walk. Stumble.

“You’re not gonna make it far on whatever he gave you.” His voice is loud and clear. It’s almost like he caused you to fall.

Your knees scrape the concrete, enough to hurt without drawing blood. You stay there, hunched over on the ground as you hear him approaching.

Rindou crouches in front of you. He smells wonderful even after a cigarette. Warm vanilla and a field of flowers. He carries your abandoned coat with him.

“You’re so cute. Like the girls I had crushes on when I was a boy. But they weren’t real.” He lifts your chin in his hand while saying it. “You are. You’re beautiful and determined and so real. It’s really hot. Especially ‘cause what you’re doing is useless.”

“Leave me alone.” Your lips quiver.

“I can’t.” That frown from earlier…it’s just his face. “I’m not going to be the one getting blamed for leaving you passed out on the sidewalk and vulnerable to all types of things.” He strokes your cheek and kisses your sweat-covered forehead.

“Are you gonna-” Tears skitter down your cheeks. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t- I can’t-” His eyes light up and there’s almost a smile showing. “I can’t be locked in that room anymore. Please. Please. Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t tell, I promise.”

✮✮✮

Rindou waits outside the door as you vomit in the bathroom. No one is in here with you and it’s the cleanest club bathroom you’ve ever seen. Or maybe you’re just that out of it.

The sound of what is mostly bile and alcohol hitting the toilet water is sickening. It even splashes on the seat, narrowly avoiding your face. The smell is vile.

When you’re done, your stomach growls as you make your way to the sink. You’re so hungry it hurts, but if you eat, he’ll have won. 

Your stud earrings have become entangled in loose strands of your hair. You take them out and admire how they glimmer under the dim bathroom light in your hand.

Are diamonds edible? You wonder. If you eat them, you’re getting back at him in a way, right? Dissolving his money in stomach acid.

You break the pointed back off of one. It’ll be harder to swallow with it on. Then you do the same with the other. They’re no longer accessories, just useless five-millimeter studs.

Hajime would say you look a mess without them. He says that even women as beautiful as you need accessories. Surely, all this jewelry he puts on you is just his form of branding.

You pop the diamonds into your mouth. Your first thought is to chew; mash them up and make them digestible. It hurts your teeth to try to bite through. It startles you how painful the attempt to crack them was. It startles you enough that you accidentally swallow them whole. 

You make a face to yourself in the mirror. Eyes blown, mascara smeared, lipstick smudged. Your heart is racing. It kind of felt… good? What the fuck?

✮✮✮

You rinse your mouth with vodka. A bottle Rindou took from behind the bar. Not that you want to drink anything else they give you. 

You’re back behind the club and Rindou doesn’t seem set on getting you even more drunk or high. You’re feeling invincible after swallowing those earrings.

What else could you do to get back at Hajime?

“Do you want to have sex right now?” You pass the bottle back to Rindou.

“No.” He says without thought or hesitation. “Not really. I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

“A home wrecker.”

“Shut up.” Hajime is not your boyfriend. You guys are not together. 

“Sorry.” He takes a big swig. “I’m also not into whatever revenge plot you’re trying to hatch.” He smiles politely. He really looks like his brother. Sad eyed and well dressed.

“It’s not revenge. You said I’m cute.” You move closer to him and your hand creeps to his forearm. 

He turns his head up and sighs. “He’s made a pleasant life for you. Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Fuck off.” 

When he looks back at you, his lips part, he thinks and closes them. Then they come open again.

“I’ll tell you something, okay?” Rindou huffs. “A while ago, there was this girl… maybe a little younger than you. A hooker who worked out of one of our brothels. She looked okay.”

He pauses in thought. Your hand slides off of his forearm.

“She ran away once, with a lot of money. When Mochi brought her back, she was so full of vengeance.” He chuckles. “Koko was pissed. Kicked that girl’s teeth in. Locked her in a closet, and only fed her rice and chicken once a day. It was bad. He told Sanzu to pull her nails out. Tortured her for like two months.”

His brows furrow, and he gets quiet for a second. “Yeah, he would tell us to do terrible things to her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I haven’t been back since.” He scratches his head. “But, what I’m saying is, Koko’s a cruel guy and you’re lucky he likes you.”

It’s shameful to think you didn’t know. To think some women have suffered at the hands of the man who makes you comfortable. For the longest time, you were oblivious. You’re an idiot.

“You’re lying.” You say, because he must be. This couldn’t have happened under your nose.

“Look at the situation you’re in. Is it impossible?” His brows rise in question.

You’re doomed, aren’t you? “I’m just going to kill myself. You should kill yourself, too.” You take the bottle from him. It feels like fire going down your throat.

His gaze has changed when you finally look at him again. There's a sense of mischief you only catch on to when he kisses you. This time, on your mouth.

You’re not sure you want this, but you lean into it for the sake of rebellion. It’s so strange kissing someone who isn’t Hajime. Matter of fact, it's strange locking lips with someone you've just met. Rindou's lips are so soft and warm. His tongue glides languidly against yours. His hands travel from your cheek to your chin to tilt your head up, so he can savor you deeper. You both taste of alcohol.

When he pulls away, he waivers a little at the sound of a soft accidental moan leaving your lips. He grins. Suddenly, you want him back.

“Now you’ve rebelled, and you’re still stuck here. I don’t think you have the balls to kill yourself, though.” He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. “But if you want to, you can.”

[lucifers-little-light]

Are you going to try and talk to Aislynn and candy (Candace) in the morning husk?

The next morning...

Husk slowly makes his way downstairs, one hand on his stomach as he fights through the familiar wave of nausea. Pregnancy was rough, and mornings like these made it worse. All he wanted was a strong cup of coffee and maybe something light to settle his stomach.

But as he reaches the dining room, his eyes catch something—someone—who makes him stop dead in his tracks. Sitting alone at one of the tables is a winged cat demon, her features unmistakably similar to his own. She has long brown hair that frames her face, her fur a soft white, and her wings tucked carefully against her back. She looks... older than he remembered, but she’s still his little girl.

Husk: *barely able to form the words, his voice shaky* L…Lynnie?

At the sound of his voice, the demon woman snaps out of her thoughts. She looks up slowly, her wide black and golden eyes locking onto his. Her mouth parts in shock, and for a second, neither of them can speak.

Aislynn: *voice almost a whisper, like she’s afraid to believe it* D-Dad? *She stands up from her chair, hands trembling slightly as she steps forward.* Is… that really you?

Husk removes his hat, clutching it tightly in his hands, his gaze full of regret and sadness.

Husk: *softly, full of remorse* Yes, Lynnie. It’s me.

Aislynn stares at him, emotions flooding her face—joy, disbelief, and a deep, lingering hurt.

Aislynn: *takes a shaky breath, her voice catching as she speaks* I… I never thought I’d see you again. You… you never came. I tried to wait, Dad… back then, in the hospital. I wanted to see you one last time, but I… I was just so—

Before she can finish, Husk drops his hat and crosses the room, pulling her into a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her, holding her as if she might vanish, his own tears welling up and spilling over.

Husk: *voice breaking, filled with years of regret and pain* I’m so sorry, Lynnie. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most. I should’ve… I should’ve been better. I should’ve been a better father.

Aislynn clutches him just as tightly, burying her face in his shoulder, her own voice shaking as she replies.

Aislynn: *whispering, almost as if speaking the words aloud is too painful* I waited, you know... back in that hospital bed, I kept waiting for you to walk through the door. I waited so long…

Husk: I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you! It’s one of my biggest regrets! You were my baby and I let you down so many times! I let you and your siblings down!

Aislynn: But you’re here now Dad…you’re here!

Husk: I never wanted to see you here Lynnie. Not because I never wanted to see you again, but how could someone as sweet as you be in Hell?

Aislynn: I don’t know what I did wrong…but I’m glad I’m down here because I got to see you again.

They stand there, holding each other as decades of hurt and separation begin to soften. In that silent embrace, they feel some of the anger and grief they both carried start to ease, if only just a little.

As Husk and Aislynn hold each other, a soft sound comes from the doorway. Husk and Aislynn pull apart slightly, both looking over to see another familiar figure standing there, her expression one of surprise and confusion.

There, just a few feet away, is a demon with dark, reddish-brown fur and a look of hesitation in her eyes. Her posture is tense, as if she’s not sure whether to stay or leave, but it’s clear that she’s recognized them both.

Aislynn: *breathes out, barely able to contain her joy* Candy?

Candace—“Candy”—freezes, her eyes widening as they fill with tears.

Candace: *whispering, almost as if testing the name* Sissy?

For a second, both sisters just stand there, taking in the sight of each other after all these years. And then, without another word, they close the distance between them, practically running into each other’s arms.

Aislynn and Candace: *in unison, their voices overlapping* I missed you so much!

They hold each other tightly, like they’re making up for all the lost years, their tears mingling as they laugh and cry all at once.

Aislynn: *through her tears, her voice filled with relief and love* Candy, I… I can’t believe it’s really you. After all this time…

Candace: *pulling back slightly to look at her sister, her eyes still shining with tears* It’s really me, Sissy. We’re together again. *She reaches up to gently touch Aislynn’s face, a soft, almost motherly smile breaking through her emotion.*

Husk watches the sisters, his heart heavy and full at the same time. He steps back a little, giving them space, and his own guilt washes over him. But for now, he stays silent, simply observing as his daughters reunite, feeling more like a stranger than a father.

The sisters finally pull apart, both wiping their eyes with small, shaky laughs. Aislynn steps back, glancing between her father and her sister as she composes herself. Husk meets Candy's gaze, and there's a quiet tension in the air—a heavy silence filled with memories, regrets, and words unsaid for too long.

Candy’s expression shifts, the warmth from her hug with Aislynn replaced with something more guarded, almost wary, as she looks her father up and down. Husk, for his part, fidgets with his hat, his usual confidence faltering.

Husk: *barely able to meet her gaze, his voice low and rough* Candace… I know I can’t make up for everything I did—or didn’t do. I… I let you down. Both of you. And I’m sorry.

Candy crosses her arms, her gaze steady but filled with a mix of hurt and defiance.

Candace: *voice laced with pain, yet restrained* You left us, Dad. You left me to take care of everything when you were supposed to be there. I had to grow up so fast because you couldn’t… or wouldn’t. Do you have any idea what that was like for me? For Sissy?

Husk flinches, each word striking like a physical blow. He knows he deserves this, but hearing it out loud—seeing the pain in Candy’s face—only makes the guilt deepen.

Husk: *voice trembling, barely able to hold back his own tears* I know, Candy. I know I wasn’t there. I was too wrapped up in my own mess… I was selfish. I thought I was just hurting myself, but I didn’t see what I was doing to you two. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.

Candy’s eyes soften, but only a little. She lets out a shaky breath, as if weighing whether she can trust him now after all these years.

Candace: *softly, her voice cracking* You don’t get it, Dad. I watched Lynnie get sicker every day, hoping you’d show up, hoping you’d be there for her… for us. It was Sissy’s dying wish to see you once more. And when you didn’t, I had to be the strong one. I had to be the parent, because you weren’t.

Husk’s tears finally spill over, and he takes a shaky step toward her.

Husk: *voice breaking* I know I failed you, Candace. I know I can’t fix the past. But I’m here now… and if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make it right. I don’t deserve forgiveness—I know that. But… I want you to know I’m here, and I’m sorry.

For a long moment, Candy stands there, staring at her father, emotions swirling in her expression. Finally, she steps forward, looking up at him with a weary sigh.

Candace: *in a soft, tired voice* You can’t erase the past, Dad. But… maybe we can start again. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m not even saying I forgive you. But if Lynnie can give you a chance… *she glances over at Aislynn, who nods, encouraging her sister* …then maybe I can too.

Husk, overwhelmed, nods, wiping his eyes and offering her a shaky smile. Slowly, Candy steps closer, and they embrace. It’s hesitant at first—two people unsure of where they stand—but gradually, they find comfort in each other.

They stand together in silence, father and daughter, reconnecting after years of hurt and neglect. The path to healing will be long, but for now, they have each other again, and that’s enough.

[fullsunstrawberry]

Okay then I'll call you mommy when I'm feeling smexy okay wifey 🥵🥵

sorry I'm high on caffeine rn

i’ll stick to calling you pookie, love, baby, sweetie, cuties, sweetheart, beautiful, precious , Princess, Buttercup, Dream Girl, Love Bug, Sunshine, Precious, Darling, Angel, Doll, Hon', Honey Bunch, Honey Bunches, Honey Bunny, Sweets, Angel Eyes, Blossom, Baby Doll

i’m sleep deprived…

[its-ticsticstics]

i don't have the electricity feeling of a tic attack but im ticcing sO much rn christ

[janewaypiamber]

New Chapter posted for Dreams Fanfiction!

Summary:

As Chakotay performs a ritual to honor his father, he is attacked by a Kazon teen and goes missing from Voyager. Janeway and the crew of Voyager set off on a mission to find him. Kathryn stops at nothing to find her first officer. Meeting a new person from Chakotay's past to aid in her search. (Based on the episode Initiations 2x02)

[olympianwinefic]

I finally updated...

[erigold13261]

Confession: You made me love crossover ships. I embarrassingly used to really... get confused by them since they had zero basis in canon. However, all the ships/friendships in the Eriverse somehow... just click? (Even if they didn't click people can just use their minds to make it click.)

Anyways... thank you. (RoseBots, SongByte, GhostAshRiotFlower and Kento my beloved)

[I forgot about Ilia/Hanami! And Ada and Brute! (Also would Eloni/Eri be on this list?) I LOVE CROSSOVER SHIPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Meant to answer this earlier whoops! lol

But hey! I'm glad I could get you to like crossover ships! (and technically OCxCanon ships for that second ask ;3c)

Also, don't worry about being confused by crossover ships (or any harmless ship that doesn't seem to make sense). Like you said, some people can just make characters click in their minds!

And I guess that's what I kinda do! Because I am always giving my explanations and reasoning behind WHY a character would do something (or someone lol), that it makes more sense to people for a crossover ship to "work" than it would if I just tossed out a bunch of art of a random crossover ship.

I also try to keep in mind characters main defining traits and try to match them with someone compatible (either they are mirrors, opposites, similar, whatever that character is looking for), but I can absolutely admit I am most likely making characters OOC.

Though, I guess it's justifiable OOC-ness because a lot of the time the major events of that character's story is not happening, or happens in a different way (either more impactful or less) which will absolutely have an impact on a characters... well character.

Basically I'm a person who likes logistics and TRYING to stay true to a character's core personality traits. So when I think two characters would be friends, I kinda jump on that, and then I slowly work them up to being in a relationship if I want to take it into that direction (since I can just put them into situations that makes them closer over time, like how Yinu and Peni trauma bond about losing their dads, leading them into friendship and then a relationship).

I don't know what I'm saying anymore lol, I literally rewrote this post 4 or 5 times now, but I'm glad either way that I was able to get you to like crossover ships and relationship! :D

They are fun and add new dynamics! Sometimes you gotta fudge the world logistics from one universe to another (whether you are putting characters into a new universe, merging them, or placing on set into another universe) to make things make overall sense, but that's where the fun comes in! The logistics! The reasoning! Make shit up if you want but also have fun and try to make it make sense (even if it only makes sense to yourself!)

[also, I will say, those OCxCanon ships, Eriloni, Brada, and Ilihami or whatever, are a lot less "logistic" and more ME finding as character cute and wanting to pretend to be with them through a character that was a lot more my own than a canon one.

Usually I prefer pretending to be a character with another character, like Purl x Cyril and West. Very rarely I personally want to be with a character. But when that does happen, most of the logistics go out the window and I am the person making shit up and ignoring reason just to make out with a character with a persona or OC lol]

[apollos-olives]

i want to mention that while yes, the conditions that palestinians live in is horrid, palestine is still a beautiful place.

there are so many stories of people returning from their trip to palestine and all of them saying that they were disgusted and horrified and the living conditions they say the palestinians were in were just awful, and while yes all of that is true, and palestinians do live in ridiculous conditions, i still want to make it clear that palestine is an insanely beautiful place. our mountains are beautiful, our plants are beautiful, our mosques, our churches, our olive trees, our birds. palestine is a beautiful place. it is the birthplace of both christianity and judaism, it is the birthplace of jesus. our temples are astonishing, our food is delicious, our culture is rich, and our diversity is beyond. our dances are beautiful, our clothing, our jewlery, our homes. each and every one of our lives is precious.

go to any palestinian home in the world and you'll see beautiful things. the west wants to get rid of us, to completely decimate every part of our existence, but we will not let them. and we need everyone on our side to help us keep palestine's beauty safe.

[slumpsnail]

The Reluctant True Soul

[rizsnt]

if i can stop one heart from breaking — emily dickinson

[lucifers-little-light]

Candy, Husk does feel really regretful. You don't have to love him, but maybe play nice?

As Candy stormed out of the hotel entrance, the weight of her emotions tugged at her heels. Angel Dust, determined and impulsive, rushed after her, trying to bridge the gap between anger and understanding that hung thick in the air.

Angel: *catching up, breathless* Candy, wait! Can we talk about what just happened in there? Husk is really trying to—

Candy spun around, her expression sharp enough to cut.

Candy: *eyes narrowing* Husk?! That's the name he goes by now? God, no wonder I couldn’t find him down here. He changed his name, changed his whole life, and forgot he had a family!

Angel shrugged, knowing that her anger was justified but fervently hoping that her fury wouldn’t cause her to shut down completely.

Angel: Listen, I get it. You have every right to be mad. I know Husk messed up big time—more than most people can even imagine—but he’s trying. Isn’t that worth something?

Candy: *sarcastic laugh* Worth something? For God’s sake, Angel, he’s bringing a child into the world when he didn’t even bother to be a father to the three he had on Earth! What happened to those kids? Did he even think about them once while he was busy ruining his life down here?

The anger coursing through her felt like a storm, and she could barely contain it. Each word shot from her lips like arrows, aimed directly at the heart of the emotional terrain. Angel, however, stood firm.

Angel: You’re right! He messed up! But he’s also trying to make amends! Do you think it’s easy for him? He’s feeling everything—regret, shame—you name it. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’re feeling it too.

Candy: *sharp intake of breath* You don’t get to tell me how I feel. You’re nobody to me, 'Angel Dust.' You’re just another ghost in his past—another distraction he’s chosen over the people who actually matter. I’m not here to play nice or pretend like everything’s okay just because he’s decided to turn over a new leaf. Why should I?

Angel took a step closer, his voice softening.

Angel: Because it’s not just about him, Candy. It’s about you. Holding on to that anger and pain isn’t going to fix anything. It only hurts you. Maybe if you could find a way to talk through it, even just a little… you wouldn’t feel so alone in this mess.

There was a pause, the noise of the hotel fading into the background as Candy processed his words.

Candy: *voice trembling* You think I haven’t tried? You think this is easy for me? I’ve spent years learning to deal with what he did to me, to us. I built my life around that pain, and you want me to toss it aside to be ‘understanding’? I can’t just let that go. I can’t.

Angel: I’m not asking you to let anything go, just to consider talking to him. Maybe there’s a way to confront the past without burning every bridge. You don’t have to love him, but what if you tried to understand him? It could give you both some peace.

Candy shook her head, her frustration boiling over once more.

Candy: Peace? Is that what this is all about? Finding peace while he just gets to start fresh and be a dad again? What about us? What about how we suffered? That’s not right!

Angel: It’s not fair…none of this is fair. But holding on to that anger will just keep hurting you. Giving him another chance doesn’t mean you have to forget what he did. It just means you won’t be carrying that weight on your own anymore.

Candy hesitated at that, caught in the web of emotions she had built. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but the anger still burned hot.

Candy: I hate him, Angel.

Angel: I know. But maybe hate doesn’t have to be all-consuming. You could set boundaries. You could talk to him on your terms. Isn't it worth giving him a shot to face the consequences of his past?

Candy crossed her arms, conflicted, the embers of her rage still flickering.

Candy: I don't want to make this easier for him.

Angel: You’re not. You’re doing it for yourself. You get to feel whatever you want about him, but being a prisoner of that fury won’t help you or anyone. Trust me, I know more than anyone what it means to let anger consume you.

There was a long beat before Candy spoke again, words wrapped in cold vulnerability:

Candy: You’re asking me to let this go… to find a way to heal. But I’m scared, Angel. What if he just ends up hurting me more?

Angel: Then you deal with it when it happens. But you can’t let the fear of what he might do stop you from trying to understand what he’s done. If nothing else, you deserve answers. Just… think about it.

Candy stood there, rooted in place as Angel’s words lingered in the air like a haunting echo. She felt her anger begin to waver, replaced by the seeping ache of memories long buried. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter, almost thoughtful.

Candy: If Aislynn can forgive him… maybe I’d consider it too.

Angel: Aislynn? Who is that?

Candy: Aislynn was my baby sister. All she ever wanted before she passed was to see our father one last time—to make peace with him. She believed that if she could, it might heal some of the wounds we all carried. But he never showed up. Not once. And when she died, I felt like a part of me died with her. She wanted so badly to believe in him, to think that he could change… but he never came. I’ll never forget how hard she fought to hang on. In those last moments, all I could think about was how sorry she must have felt. How could I ever forgive someone who caused her so much pain?

Angel, listening intently, felt a pit forming in his stomach. He thought about Molly…and he knew Candy’s pain all too well.

Candy: Now Aislynn’s been in Hell since 1958. She’s a news producer for 666 News. Can you believe that? My pure-hearted sister, stuck in this place because she wanted to bring the truth to the surface.

Angel's heart sank as he heard the depth of Candy's sorrow. It was a familiar weight, echoing his own losses and regrets. He could hardly fathom the grief she must carry, knowing that her sister had yearned for a connection, one that could never be fulfilled.

Angel: *taking a deep breath* Candy, I’m so sorry. That’s… that’s heartbreaking. But what if I could help you get that moment with her? What if I could bring Aislynn here? Maybe Husk should apologize to her too. Maybe he needs to face the reality of his actions directly.

Candy's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and skepticism washing over her.

Candy: You… you want to find Aislynn? In this place? That's not even possible! She’s a news producer; she probably has dozens of stories to cover every day. What would make her want to talk to him? To me?

Angel: Leave that to me. I know how to track her down; the connections I have in Hell can help. And as for wanting to talk to him? It doesn’t have to start with wanting to—she might just feel an obligation to face the past. The truth is always worth confronting.

Candy felt a flicker of hope ignite in her chest, but it battled fiercely against her bitter skepticism.

Finally, Candy sighed, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Candy: "Alright. You can go look for her, but if this falls apart—if Aislynn doesn’t want to talk to me or Husk—I don’t know how I’ll handle it, Angel.

Angel: *offering a gentle smile* And that’s perfectly okay. I’ll go look for Aislynn and bring her here. Trust me. I won’t let you down. Just stay strong; we’ll navigate through this together.

[book-lover85]

and now I'm back to elaborate on my point buckle up cause this is long and kinda badly organized sorry I didn't cite my sources because I don't have the books rn if someone asks me to I'll edit them in later

first things first vocab cause I'm not explaining these things over and over

talentless elves: an elf that does not have an ability, they are still capable of using skills, are still smarter than humans by a large margin, and live forever. talentless are barred from being part of the nobility and must get working class jobs

working class: anybody with a job not in the nobility these are not necessarily less respected jobs (i.e. jurek working in the sanctuary) but they're not nobility jobs and are not as “important” in the sense that they aren't classified and don't have any relation with the council Mysterium is where many working class shops like Slurps and Burps are set up

matchmaking list: a list given to them with 100 elves that they can choose from, elves can get a new one every month until they have 5 lists with 500 options total

matchmaking: a system used by the elves to ensure they 1. don't marry a relative since all elves live forever and 2. have the most genetically perfect children matchmaking does not allow talentless elves and elves with talents to be on each other's matchmaking list and therefore married without being labeled a bad match

bad match: elves that were not on each other's matchmaking list either because one elf has a talent and one doesn't or they just didn't have the luck to be on each other's list and got married anyway bad matches are uncommon and bring scorn and shame upon the couple and their children (and possibly the rest of their family)

siblings: the elves think that the more children a couple has the less likely it is to have an ability because their genes become “diluted” after the first child, they feel that this is even worse when the couple has twins or triplets etc

unmatchable: a status as of now only given yo Sophie Foster due to the fact she doesn't know who her parents are and therefore her genetic lineage and so she can't be properly matched with anyone, this means that any and every relationship she gets in will be a bad match

now obviously it isn't perfect so first I'm gonna address some problems

1. Shannon emphasizes constantly that the lost cities has no discrimination of any kind in the way the humans do and while the point of this is to emphasize how much better they think they are, it's not actually shown in practice, all of Sophie's closest friends and family as well as most adults she interacts with are white up until book 4 and it doesn't improve all that much afterwards (and there are literally no canonically queer characters + Shannon has added a lot of misogyny into the characters and world building)

2. I worry that she won't resolve the problems in a way that is realistic or even good and will undermine the great build up she's had throughout the books by slapping some “oh everything is perfect and fine now because Sophie said so” bandaid at the end

3. there are definitely more and I just can't think of them

now onto what she did well

so first I want to establish what the systemic problems are, they almost exclusively revolve around abilities: who has an ability, what your ability is, how compatible it is with other abilities (this is more relevant to matchmaking), and ofc in the case of pyrokinetics it's not even an ability that can be used anymore so you're labeled talentless

so issues like matchmaking, bad matches, disrespect towards shades, the banning of pyrokinetics and making them talentless, the labeling and bigotry towards talentless is all related to this

the reason Shannon does this is because all these issues are very other to the reader

it sounds super stupid and dumb to most if not all readers to think that an elf not having a talent makes them lesser because we fundamentally can't understand (or at the very least justify) this logic humans don't have abilities (or skills and immortality which all elves have) and we function perfectly fine and good without them so why should it matter if an elf is talentless they're still crazy smart and can lift whole buildings if they tried with just their mind so to us it seems like why would abilities matter so much that you'd isolate your own people in this way

so essentially Shannon does this because it is an easily understandable problem that most readers know is bad if she made the problems something that humans also struggle with then the readers would struggle with message more (ofc many stories can and do get across this message even while using issues that we have in our society)

my second point is I think Shannon is really good at subtly (and unsubtly) showing how this affects people

Dex is obviously bullied, mocked, and isolated from his peers at Foxfire because his parents are a bad match it is shown from book one how this affects his world view and personality

Sophie being unmatchable is literally one of the worst thing that could happen to her and she's incredibly upset because it's another thing that isolate is her from elves

Marella being a pyrokinetic makes many people scared of her and puts her under heavy supervision from the council

Tam as a shade is seen as untrustworthy purely because of an ability

Linh's ability is so strong (because it's elemental) that people are all scared of her and keep their distance and it even got her banished

and related to that many elves who have incredibly strong abilities (elemental is more common but this can be true for any ability) will be banished when their ability gets out of hand and they're deemed “unfit” for society and banished even as children these elves are essentially left to die because their abilities are too strong abilities that are supposed to garner them respect have been used against them when they needed help (we'll get back to this)

Ruy joined the Neverseen after he was banished for unknown reasons but it can be assumed that the banishment was related

Rayni’s parents being banished because her dad tweaked the matchmaking system (we'll get back to this) leads to her literally joining the murderous insane rebellion group with her desperation for change

onto to my third point Shannon is very good at showing how some people will struggle to grapple with and change their views despite understanding they're bad because it's been ingrained in them since birth; it's the norm

Sophie is very clear that she doesn't agree with the elves or their views on abilities as a whole and doesn't even want to apply to the match for months a knowing she can and that it exists

contrary to this most of Sophie's other friends are incredibly oblivious to these problems and have trouble coming to terms with its issues

Biana shows excitement towards getting her match lists in book 5 along with many other characters Tam and Linh don't seem to swing either way Keefe had never thought about it until Sophie and Dex became his friends and Fitz still has trouble grappling with it

in Legacy and Stellarlune Shannon makes a point to show Fitz’s internal conflict (at least from a distance) he has much higher expectations as not only a Vacker child but as the one that has the most expectations to succeed and so it's hard for him to cope with the fact that Sophie is unmatchable

if he makes the decision to continue dating her and possibly eventually marrying her he will live with the label of bad match forever or at least until they know her parents this is why he's so desperate to find out her biological parents and puts emphasis on it every time her unmatchable status is brought up even when it very clearly upsets Sophie

because to him her being unmatchable possibly forever is a big deal that will follow him forever and as the Vacker that is always looked up to that's hard to grapple with

even if people may agree that it makes no sense and there's a very good chance they would've been each other's #1 match the fact is they're not and they won't be until she finds out who her parents are and tells the matchmakers

so when she tells him no he freaks out and makes it about him (which was absolutely selfish and rude don't get me wrong) but it's understandable why

then in Stellarlune when doing the third step of the cognate inquisition Fitz tells Sophie that he knows that matchmaking is bad and hurts people but some part of him can't just let go of this thing he's been told all his life by everybody is incredibly important and will determine his whole and he hasn't gotten to point where he can just “oh yeah that's fine” to Sophie being unmatchable forever

ON THAT TOPIC

Sophie is not only shown how the discrimination towards talentless elves and certain abilities hurts people through her friends and family (like Dex, Marella, Tam, Jolie and Brant, Grady, and even Linh) she then becomes directly affected by it when she's given the unmatchable status

this gives her a personal connection to the problems (not that anyone should need one to see the issues and work against them) and helps her empathize a lot more people in bad matches

onto my fourth point I think Shannon shows how easily and causally this is held up by not only people in power (mainly the council but also high ranking nobility members) as well as the people that participate in the society

in book one Marella gossips about anything and everything without much awareness to who she may hurt (because she is unaware of how hurtful and discriminatory many of the things she's talking about are and this improves greatly as the series goes on) she talks about Grady's ability and acts as if he's incredibly scary for an ability he has no control over, gossips and bad mouths bad matches right in front of Dex’s face and flaunts Stina’s father being talentless to her like it's something that's obviously bad

Marella is not the only example of course but she's an obvious one especially in book one and throughout the series many offhand comments like this are thrown around like all of Stina’s insults to Dex in books 1-9 (I am including 8 and 9 since while I think that Stina has marginally improved since book 1 [and I want her to have even more improvement so she can be friends ish with team V and others] I think there are still several moments when she insults Dex and his family and other characters) Cassius in general, many people that gawked at Sophie and her friends at multiple points in the series

the council is shown to support matchmaking system and it's essentially a government entity similar to Foxfire they back up anything the matchmakers say and when the rules are broken the council heavily punishes the perpetrators the councilors were the ones that banned pyrokinetics and every person who's banished is banished by them the council does a lot of the work to keep the shitty discriminatory systems in place

at my fifth point matchmaking and the discrimination towards abilities affects everyone in the lost cities

while it obviously is much worse for Dex who's parents are a bad match and not in the nobility even Noble families and people with power aren't helped by a system that has flaws built into it the way the treat talentless elves and the way the matchmaking system works hurts any and everyone

councilors aren't allowed to be married or have children because they'd be biased (which is an obviously flawed law since literally all elves have living family members) and it's shown how much this hurts Oralie and Kenric when they can't be with each other but can't leave their position as councilors without causing lots of tension in the lost cities at the loss of 2 councilors (that are both beloved)

Stina’s family is gossiped about constantly and believed to be a faked good match since Timkin is talentless and can't marry someone with a talent like Vika without being a bad match

this relates back to the obvious problem of the matchmaking system and how it's not only very flawed and causes more harm than good but ALSO how easily it can be tweaked one question was changed for Rayni's parents and boom good match one matchmaker was likely bribed by Vika and bam impossible good match if the system was fair and non discriminatory like it should be then it wouldn't be this easy to trick it

coming back to the banishing of literal children, the system works against even the people it's supposed to protect which is an AMAZING thing to address when talking about these problems Sophie has abilities and her boyfriend does too but they'll eventually be deemed a bad match ruy, linh, and Tam were all banished as children despite having abilities because they got too strong and the council wouldn't put in the effort to support them

bonus this is somewhat unrelated but I think it's kinda crazy how the elves see themselves as this advanced society while believing essentially bs superstition about genetics that forkle literally said had no standing in science when he researched it let me emphasize the elves entire society is built upon a set of beliefs that is scientifically wrong that's actually insane

anyways thanks for asking for my thoughts id love to see what other people think or if I missed something I'll add it this took forever to write so

Tag List: @readingismypurpose

and what if I said that kotlc actually handles systemic problems that are perpetuated by society and people in power and hurt everyone participating in that society really well

[royalarchivist]

YD: Ahh, so adorable. I recorded some stuff, like them trying yukke. [Reading chat] Right? I was flabbergasted when I heard his age! I didn’t know that he was… 20 years old??? He was also shocked when I told him my age. I don’t really ask their ages when I’m talking to foreigners, we’re just friends, ‘cause they don’t have distinct honorific and informal languages like we do. And he guessed I was like, 23? [Laughs] I laughed my ass off.

YD: These kids are polite. They seem very polite, don’t they? Especially after hearing how old I am. It feels like they’re saying, “Yes ma’am, it’s very delightful.” So cute, and they seemed like they really enjoyed their meal.

YD talked about meeting up with Tubbo while he was in Korea and shares two videos of them eating food at a Korean BBQ place!

MASSIVE thank you to @Forgetmelotz on Twitter, who translated and subtitled this video and gave me permission to share it on Tumblr! Please make sure to give the original video a like.

[Full Video and Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

⚠️ This transcript is VERY LONG! ⚠️

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YD: So I was planning to have a dinner with Kei [a Kpop Idol / Singer], but unexpectedly, there's a foreigner friend I met on QSMP named Tubbo, he's from the UK, and apparently he's visiting Korea. And he posted an Instagram story about it. I saw it and was like "Wait, are you coming to Korea?" and it [Tubbo's post] even says Korea blah blah within the date two days after my birthday. So I sent him a DM and he responded with "Haven't you seen my Twitter DM?"

YD: I recently distanced myself a little from Instagram and Twitter for a while, yeah I didn't check my phone that often, and it turns out he messaged me about 3 - 4 days ago saying "YD, I'm flying to Korea! Blah blah–" so I was like "Oh, oh... I'm sorry I didn't see that!" and I checked the DM the day before he arrived here... I told him that I am so sorry and asked if I can meet him in person.

* [Translation note: this can also mean the other way around, ie: he may have asked her if they could meet in person]

YD: So we ended up seeing [each other] on the 21st. I was supposed to have dinner with Kei, so I told her "but my friend from abroad... is in Korea now... what should I do..." and we rescheduled the dinner to inviting her to come over next week. So um, the, right– Tubbo, Tubbo's friend [Eryn], Seoneng [one of YD's crew members] and Kang-si [YD's husband] the 5 of us had dinner together.

YD: We went to a Korean BBQ place. I was searching through restaurants thinking “Uh… which Korean restaurant should I take these foreigners to so that they would be super impressed?” [YD thanks a dono] Yeah, I was searching hard and so I asked Ryeori. You know the Kwak tori & Ryeori couple? Ryeori the hair designer, I asked him, “Reyori, I’m trying to buy a dinner for my foreigner friend, do you have any recommendations for where I should bring him?” and he started listing up like Michelin star-rated pork gukbap restaurants and stuff. Then he also tells me that it’s really difficult to find an actual Korean restaurant in Hongdae, like it’s difficult to find a decent place. There are mostly fusion Korean food [places]. But then he goes, “Oh, hey, this place looks fine” and recommends me this Korean BBQ restaurant. I decided to bring them there and fed them.

YD: The reason I liked that place was that they sell doenjang-jjigabe, galbi-tang, jeyuk bokkeum, and other dishes as well as their main menu, the beef KBBQ. The banchans [side dishes] were also served neatly, they even had japchae, they sold yukke. Obviously there are better Korean restaurants outside of Hongdae, but their hotel was located there. It wasn’t like he had a car here, so I was trying to meet them somewhere they can just walk to. So Hongdae it was. On top of that, YD 4-cuts is also located in Hongdae.** So I thought it would be the best to just eat out here. And while we were eating, I’ve recorded some videos.

** [Note: This is a photo booth event with custom YD frames, as show in the background of this video]

YD: [Scrolls through to find the videos and laughs] Ahh, so adorable. I recorded some stuff, like them trying yukke. [Reading chat] Right? I was flabbergasted when I heard his age! I didn’t know that he was… 20 years old??? He was also shocked when I told him my age. I don’t really ask their ages when I’m talking to foreigners, we’re just friends, ‘cause they don’t have distinct honorific and informal languages like we do. [She thanks another dono] And he guessed I was like, 23? [Laughs] I laughed my ass off.

[YD plays a video she took of Tubbo and Eryn at the restaurant]

Tubbo: Oh, ok. [?]: You should tell them how to eat it together.  Tubbo: You’re overestimating my chopstick skill.  [?]: Here. [Passes Tubbo some of the meat]  Tubbo: Oh, thank you. [?]: And here, together. Tubbo: Ok. [Takes a bite] Waitress: With this vegetable. Tubbo: Mm, it’s really sweet! [?]: Foreigners quite like it. Eryn: [Reaches over and tries some food too, struggling a bit with his chopsticks] [?]: Unexpected, right? [?]: Oh, they like yukke? [?]: They just need to get used to it. Waitress: I will grill and hand it over to you, so please help yourselves. [?]: Ok, thank you. Eryn: [Tries more food and gives it a thumbs-up] [?]: Hm, good?! Tubbo and Eryn: Yeah! Tubbo: So far 10/10.

[The video ends]

YD: These kids are polite. They seem very polite, don’t they? Especially after hearing how old I am. It feels like they’re saying, “Yes ma’am, it’s very delightful.” So cute, and they seemed like they really enjoyed their meal. They were eating it up. They drank soju, they ate some noodles, and even doenjang-jjigae. I’ve heard foreigners don’t really like the taste of doenjang-jjigae, but they ate pretty much [all] of it. The restaurant also had pot rice, so I made them try that too. They ate that well too.

[YD plays the second video she recorded of them at the restaurant]

Tubbo: Go crazy ok, yeah! Alright.

YD: We ordered naengmyeon for a palate cleanser too. We ordered a lot.

Tubbo: [Struggles to cut the noodles with the scissors that were handed to him]

YD: He’s asking why we cut the noodles.

Tubbo: [Manages to cut the noodles] Kang-si [?]: Ok, and- and– [does chopstick motion] Tubbo: [Laughs] What am I gonna need?  Eryn: Chopsticks? Kang-si [?]: Yeah. YD [?]: Chopsticks, mm. Eryn: [To Tubbo] You go first. Tubbo: [Inaudible] Why is it cold? YD [?]: Oh, because the noodle is cold.

YD: Yeah, he found it interesting that the noodle is cold.

Tubbo: [He struggles with his chopsticks] Oh no, oh no… [Everyone laughs] Kang-si [?]: Very difficult. Ok! Tubbo: [Manages to fish some noodles out and holds his hand under them so they don’t splash everywhere as he transports them to his bowl] Seoneng [?]: Oh, uh, oh! It might be difficult for them to eat that. YD [?]: Hm? Kang-si [?]: Do you want some, Seoneng? Gimme the chopsticks, I’ll share you some. Eryn: [To Tubbo] Slippery. How did you get it?  Kang-si [?]: I’ll give you some, hand me the chopsticks. Seoneng [?]: Can I hand you mine? Just a small amount, please.

YD: They mimicked how Kangseok [Kang-si, YD’s husband] handles the noodles. Like, picking up the noodles like this and moving it to your dish.

Tubbo: That’s why you’re better than me (?).

YD: That’s Seoneng.

Kang-si [?]: Here’s your chopsticks, Seoneng. Eryn: I think this is enough. YD [?]: Oh, he’s taking some to his dish. Seoneng [?]: He learned. Tubbo: Do you like, spin 'em? Seoneng [?]: Scissors? Kang-si [?]: Like– [He holds up his chopsticks and shows them how to do it. Ok. OK! Eryn: [Picks up only a few noodles, which dangle] Seoneng [?]: Good! Tubbo: Maybe I did- I did a sht job of cutting, I'm sorry. Eryn: That's ok. Doing good.

YD: It had a nice atmosphere.

Eryn: Bravo. Tubbo: Oh, thank you. YD [?]: The noodles might be a bit slippery for them to...

YD: They really struggled to pick the noodles up. They asked why we cut the noodles then proceeds to eat like that 'cuz it's too long.

YD [?]: Shall we cut it? Kang-si [?]: Eryn? [He leans forward and cuts Eryn's noodles with scissors]

YD: –So we had to cut it for him like he's a baby.

[Everyone laughs] Eryn: It kept on moving!

[The video ends]

YD: [Laughs] Ah, so cute. It was fun. So we tried various dishes together. And uh, UK– UK– both of them are from the UK, but they didn't know there is a viral series of British students trying Korean food,*** so I told them "Seeing how you react to unfamiliar foods, like... How do I put this? You were very polite trying these out, not making any weird disgusted noises (so you can go viral too)." They didn't refuse anything. Well, they also said that this was the best Korean food they had so far. They might've been just being polite, but still, you know, they were... Hmm, very neat? Yeah. I get why he's so popular.

*** [Note: YT: Korean Englishman]

YD: Anyways, it was a lot of fun. After the meal, I asked them if they wanted to go take a YD 4-cut with us, explaining this is a trending form of birthday event amongst fans of younger generations in Korea where they rent and run a photobooth for their YouTuber / CCs / Influencers. I asked "It's close from here, you wanna go?" and he said yes. That's how we ended up taking a group photo. It wasn't planned beforehand.

YD: We arrived there– [Laughs] I tried, I knew it closes at 10pm, so I tried to visit there around then (to avoid people). So we got there around 9:30? And my fans were sitting there waiting for me. As soon as they spot me they go, "Wooooooo!!! It's so good to see you in person!!!" ...then they started crying, which made Tubbo and Eryn panic a bit. They were like "Wow YD, u a superstar! Whoa." [Laughs]

YD: No, 'cuz I told them that there might be a few fans because it's my birthday event, and they were OK with it. Well, he's also a Youtuber, so he wouldn't be too unfamiliar with this kinda situation I figure. But even though I warned [him] about it, they seemed a bit surprised as people started SOBBING, so Kangseok evacuated them all. He told them, "Let's get out and try some salted butter rolls while she..." The boys leave and get bread, and I go have a short conversation with my fans, take photos, give autographs... [Laughs]

YD: It was a LOT of fun. It was a memorable day.

The original VOD can be found here (please note that the video is only available to VIP members of YD's channel).

Timestamp for this conversation: ~12:30 - 23:00

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Interiors

As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.

Interior Design Terms

Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.

Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.

Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.

Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.

Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.

Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.

Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.

Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.

Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.

Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.

Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.

Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.

Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.

Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.

Niche: A sunken area within a wall.

Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.

Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.

Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.

Façade: front portion of a building

Lintel: Top of a door or window.

Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns

Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building

Skirting: border around lower length of a wall

Ancient Greece

Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.

Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.

Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.

Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.

Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.

Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.

Ancient Rome

Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.

Ancient Egypt

Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.

Ancient Africa

African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.

Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.

Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.

Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal

Japanese Interiors

Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.

Common features of Japanese Interior Design:

Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition

Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.

Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.

Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.

Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.

Islamic World Interior

The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.

Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)

The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.

Indian Interiors

India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.

The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.

Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.

Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.

Chinese Interiors

Common features of Chinese Interiors

Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.

Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.

Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).

Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.

Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.

Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.

Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.

Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.

Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.

Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.

Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)

Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.

Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)

The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.

Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)

Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.

Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)

The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.

Tudor Interior (1485-1603)

The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.

Baroque (1600 to 1750)

The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.

Victorian (1837-1901)

We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.

Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)

This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.

Art Deco (1920s-1930s)

The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.

Modernism (1930 - 1965)

Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.