#How Long Does It Take For A Grape Plant

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here. 

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour. 

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors. 

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape. 

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones. 

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast. 

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well. 

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

[mediumgayitalian]

The satellite dish at Camp Half-Blood would be better suited as a cereal bowl.

It hardly works. It catches a grand total of nineteen channels, twelve of which are news stations, and the final seven almost never have anything playing that’s actually worth watching. But the DVD player only ever works every third month, and the strawberry plants have to be watered, so on rainy days, the sixteen of them cram into the rec room of the Big House, organised, fight-reduction seating for as long as Nyssa can tiredly maintain it, and squabble over the remote.

“It’s my turn! Give it to me!”

“Quit whining you little twerp —”

“Will! Make her give me the remote!”

“Snitch! Snitch! Sherman, beat him up —”

Nico narrowly dodges Kayla’s dirty sneaker, sniggering to himself as Will and Sherman share, for perhaps the first time in either of their lives, an identical sigh of endless suffering, each grabbing one sibling and yanking backwards. They’ve really dug their claws in, so it takes a couple tries.

“Kayla,” Will warns, both hands clamped around her ankles, “if you don’t let go in three damn seconds —”

“Ellis sucks at picking channels!”

“Everybody sucks at picking channels! We got maybe four to choose from!”

“Seven,” correct several people at once.

Will rolls his eyes. “Forgive me. I forgot about the three toddler channels the rest of y’all babies are so enthralled by.”

“As if you don’t watch Sesame Street with as much childlike glee as the rest of us, Solace.”

“Can it, Diaz. Kayla, remove your nails from his face!”

A hand tugs on his sleeve. Nico glances over to find Austin’s big, pleading eyes, and since he is a massively weak loser, apparently, he sighs, mouth twitching when Austin wiggles happily, and plunges his hand into the nearest shadow.

He digs around for a second, trying to orient himself, and smirks when he sees his hand reappear across the couch, right in between Kayla and Ellis’ heads. He waits, watching for a break. Austin watches carefully next to him, hands still around his other wrist, and when the timing is right — a twitch in Kayla’s knee indicating an oncoming kick that even Will won’t be able to stop — he squeezes. Nico darts between them, snatching the remote for himself. He passes it to Austin with a wink. Austin points it to the TV immediately, clicking it to what everyone has aptly named the ‘Grandma Channel’ — twenty-four-seven footage of gardening set to quit jazz.

Thirteen groans — one cheer by Miranda, their lone ally — sound at once.

“You’re weak as all hell, di Angelo,” Billie informs him, obviously a fake gardener. Shame.

He makes a face at her.

Despite their troubles, the peace of the Grandma Channel does not last. In what can only be a coordinated attack, Nico and Austin are lulled into a false sense of security, entranced by a particularly satisfying timelapse of a grape vine, and when their guards are down, they are ambushed. With a deafening war cry, Harley is flung bodily on top of the two of them, landing with two gleeful elbows to Nico’s shoulder and Austin’s ribs, rendering them breathless and perhaps even close to death.

“No maiming,” Austin protests, wheezing.

“I’m telling Chiron,” Nico agrees, similarly struggling to reinflate his lungs. He glances at his medic boyfriend, also known as Judas, who only shrugs, smirking. His thumb is notably smeared with grease, a consequence of touching Harley no matter how many times Nyssa forces him to shower. Traitor. “No maiming is, like, the only rule here.”

Harley climbs off of them, elbows once again violating the rule on the way off. Nico actually feels his spleen compress into the size of an atom.

“Tough!”

The little twerp hands his prize to his big sister, who points it at the screen gracefully, as if she did not just use said brother as a weapon against two innocent people. Constantly innovative, those Hephaestus children.

Nyssa, on account of having hands like steel wires and a right hook that could make Muhammad Ali fall crying to his knees, is left peacefully alone with the remote. Nico glares at her, as he often does, with equal amount of hatred and awe. His emotions are widely replicated across the overstuffed couches.

She clicks rapidly through the channels, as she always does, fast enough that the sound echoes like static along with the rain.

breaking — jump! — traffic — learn — George — crayon — soil — sale —

She hardly rests in a channel for more than a second, cutting in the middle of sentences and even words, images flashing rapidly across the screen, swirling colour and skipping melodies, steadied by the roll of thunder, the patter of raindrops, the roar of wind and away of bending trees.

kids! — buy — gun — bridge — add — spade — colour — nine — east —

Austin sighs from beside him, sinking into the couch. Nico breaks away from the hypnosis for a moment to glance at the rest of the room and finds everyone else similarly entranced; eyes half-lidded and unfocused against the still-swirling TV, heads tilted back, curled into each other, limbs slow, fingers tapping quietly.

run — neat — rose — pasta — schools — closure — Sola — bumper —

“Wait,” Will murmurs.

gym — roll — climb — bush — accident — bud —

The old couches creak as Will shifts, Kayla pushed gently to the side as he moves forward.

“Nyssa, wait. Go back.”

The rain seems to mute itself. Nico is aware, quite suddenly, of the stiff set to Will’s spine, the odd quality of his voice. Nyssa, too, must recognize it, because she glances over at him, then slowly back to the TV, pressing the channel button once and setting the remote carefully on the coffee table in front of her.

No one grabs it.

“— terrible tragedy,” says a news anchor. “Unbelievably, really, Barbara, and something so sudden —”

“No,” Will says.

“Yes, Dave, always something you read about in old newspapers but never remember happens in real life —”

“No. No.”

He reaches for the remote but misses the first time, patting blindly on the table, and the second time, too, eyes glued to the bright screen. His hand scrabbles, nails digging on the old wood, increasingly desperately, but his eyes won’t move, face won’t pivot. Nico swallows, pushing back the sting of bile crawling slowly up his throat, the dullness in his ear, muffled like his ear is turned to a soundproofed wall. The hands he tells to reach over and hand the remote to Will don’t work.

“— almost makes me think of James Dean. That’s Naomi Solace, for those just tuning in, currently in critical condition from a head-on collision with a semi in Savannah, Georgia —”

Nico’s ears white out completely.

Will’s knees hit the floor.

———

next

[dazeygurl]

I see so much ranting and raving about hypno reprogramming- implementing all new ideas, traits, actions, becoming the perfect doll and molded into whatever you're told to be. It's good shit don't get me wrong, but what about when you have to undo all of those tweaks. That's kinda good too..

I'll just be there soaking in the bathtub and start doing a mental inventory of what thoughts I really ‘lost’ while busy getting my brain washed. Just laying there and thinking on what changes were made over an admittedly long period of time, only then realizing both identity and a sense of the passage of time had completely drifted away

My current favorite new personal discovery after undownloading a system “upgrade” that included lots of reprogramming material; 

•I love smoking??? and getting high, feeling buzzed🍁 

Not enjoying that feeling is sucha silly way to live- being high is goofy and hot. (being coerced into taking puff after puff until you're stoned enough to be taken advantage of? Even hotter.)

I would never /not/ want that?? But now a days it does feel like i'm discovering the concept for the first time- like, 'I can just hit my pretty little vape pen that tastes like grape candy whenever I want and feel silly?’ *tries it* ‘oh, fuck yea :3’ 

(Idk what this tists problem with smoking was, just not very lady-like? Though I suppose vaping IS one of the few traits I could’ve kept locked in that hidden box inside the attic of my mind. The one meant for discarded characteristics.)

I only had eyes and interests for one person, literally no one else. Because there is LITERALLY no one else in my mind. Not in the way you would think either. The devotion to the relationship didn't come from any spoken commitment, but all the same, mind getting massively melted on the daily, I was devout. Any previous desires that were deemed unnecessary- gang bangs, three ways, and eventually even the desire to go out with my Slutty friends just to be ogled by men, 

(which is what I'm made to do?? i'm literally just a girl) 

All those old unnecessary desires had to go to make room for all the new desires I had to Serve one.

So many little ideas forgotten, forgotten, forgotten-. Because it feels so good to be obedient, it feels good to go deep, and it does feel good, doesn't it? The seeds that were planted were untraceable, and they grew into something so natural; thinking, evolving, loving, deeper and deeper.. 

I was really a pet. A horse with no name and blinders on, a dog locked on a mental leash in a golden cage. A pet to be owned, preprogrammed, and reshaped. I came into the equation with the innate desire to be praised as a Good Girl, sure, but was then given the commands, positive reinforcement, and occasional punishment until all my new tricks sinked in and I could perform them with a *snap*

And umm yes that is the point. That is what makes it hot. That is what I asked for. 

Corruption, destruction, being a possession. Becoming domesticated, having my mind unravelled until there's nothing left except behaving properly.

Maybe the best part is remembering how for the entire process I would tease “i don't think the brainwashing is working ~” silly, silly girl

It's /disgustingly/ hot. Realizing you were primed, and tweaked, and molded, till the point of no return. Resisting and fighting to retain free will at first, but knowing deep down that it's an impossible task. Knowing I really really want to sink, fall away, and give in completely.

And yeaaaah I'm horny thinking about it~ All the same though, finding little fragments of a memory, a desire, or even an opinion of my own, when not long ago those were all quite literally unknown illegible words, it’s freaky. Like, -oh-shit-mind-control-is-real kinda freaky. Freaky is good too though...

And now I get to play the game of “Was it HYPnoSiS or is it a personality disorder :D (Though I am not a therapist so I can can't rightly say—--- but I definitely know which one is the right answer🍥 Feel free to say 'Good Girl' and give me an A on my essay now! End of rant<3

[xleeleeboox]

Gareth headcanons part 3!

Requested by @flesheaterizzy ✨

Idk how many words this is because I e been typing these on my phone at work lol as they pop into my head and there are no warnings for this post!

———————————————

- He loves fall and his favorite thing is carving pumpkins and decorating with his little sister

- He went to a pumpkin patch with Eddie to get some and Eddie smashes one by accident and Gareth had to pay for it lol

- Gareth doesn’t have a job yet but he always seems to have pocket money, like he doesn’t sell anything like Eddie but he always has something in his wallet

- He would watch game of thrones I just know it

- And idk if I mentioned this before but he’d watch anime, like Naruto, attack on titan, fairy tail, jujutsu kaisen all of those you know

- He knows how to play the guitar but mostly the acoustic, he has an electric guitar but he prefers the drums and the band needed a drummer

- Sometimes he play the guitar for you if you ask although he gets a little shy to just play one on one, he’s nervous he will mess up and it will be embarrassing

- But it never is embarrassing

- Gareth like never gets sick but when he does it’s always for over a week. When you get sick he will take care of you and he will manage to not get sick himself afterwards

- He loves cuddling you when either of you are sick and he will make you take all your medicine and drink all the fluids you need

- He loves when you fall asleep in him room even if you just got there, like after school you get so tired you fall asleep but Gareth loves it because it means you’re getting rest and you’re comfy around him and in his room. He doesn’t care he will do something else until you wake up and he will even watch you but in an affectionate kind of way

- He is a plant killer lmao he has one cactus that he has had ever since he was like 9, it’s still growing just not very much lol

- Will eat whipped cream alone as a snack, from the tub or can

- Eddie and him used to dare each other to lick batteries and the Jeff and grant got in on it too lol

- I feel like he doesn’t particularly love kids, like he likes them but whatever. But he is actually very good with kids, he literally just plays along with them and asks them questions and fake argues with them and they love it

- He doesn’t like reading books he only read comic books

- I said it before and I’ll say it again Gareth is a grape flavor guy, he like Dr Pepper, oatmeal raisin cookies, barbecue sauce, all of it

- When Gareth was a kid it took him a long time to be able to read a clock and sometimes it takes him a second to tell the time still

- He’s a pumpkin carver around Halloween

- He probably used to go camping as a kid but his parents got tired of it the older the kids got

- I said it before I’ll say it again Gareth has a younger sister and an older sister and they would go camping with him and the parents

- He loves amusement parks but also isn’t a big fan of roller coasters, there’s a lot he doesn’t like but some that he LOVES

[ehlnofay]

Efri knocks on the door, which she doesn’t normally do. It’s so ridiculously loud it feels counterintuitive – she takes a full minute and a fair bit of banging around to shove it open, so he can already hear her, no need for anything else. But this time she knocks.

This time is different. This time is a bit weird, because the Archmage invited her to visit.

Normally, she just barges in when she feels like it, whenever she’s got an hour or so to spare. To look at his magic-grown garden, mostly; it’s a good garden, bright and beautiful and impossible without whatever weird spellcraft set it in place, all kinds of plants with all different needs. Grapes that only grow in the Eastmarch Aalto, mushrooms that only grow in the belly of the earth, flowers that only grow in snow and lichen that only grow in swamps. It shouldn’t be able to all grow together, and yet it does. It’s fascinating. And nice to look at.

So Efri comes to look at it. And sometimes – when the Archmage isn’t being too withdrawn and sulky – he tells her about it, about the care each plant needs, how he has to prune the bushes and pull the fjell’s weave out before it sprawls to take up all the space in the soil. He has gardening gloves, not soft wool like hers but dark leather with dirt streaking the seams. She’s seen him wear them three times.

Sometimes he’s not in the mood, and she looks in silence, and he pretends like she’s not there, and she pretends like he’s doing a good job at that. (He often looks over at her – she can feel his bleeding-red eyes on her back – and sighs, like the weird tired old man he is. She doesn’t acknowledge it.)

But this time he asked for her. Which, unless he’s got a new plant (unlikely) she can’t think of any reason for him to do. It isn’t as though they ever talk about anything else. But Mirabelle found her in the laundry room, pressing soap through Sissel’s favourite blanket because they’d used it for long enough it had started to smell funny, and she told her that Archmage Aren wanted to see her, and she wasn’t going to say no. She was curious. And besides, they’re a sort of friends, she thinks – even if he’s weird and sullen and almost two hundred years old, he still lets her wander into his room when she’s at a loose end, rifling through his things like a careless wind and peering wide-eyed at his garden. He still sits down and talks to her about it, sometimes. So Efri knocks, and waits, uncomfortably, to hear a response.

There’s a faint, “Mirabelle?” through the heavy wooden door. Efri sighs, because she knows he can’t hear her.

“Efri,” she calls back.

A pause. Then, “Ah,” a little louder, and he’s pulling the door open, which is a nice change. That thing is enormous. Hurts her arms to shove at.

Still weird, though.

The Archmage stands, a hand on the door’s fancy-looking knob, wearing his hood again. There’s no rhyme or reason as to when and where he wears that thing, it seems. He took it off on the ramparts, out in Winterhold’s eternal blizzard; he’s put it on now, in his own too-lavish room, where he sits and reads and looks at his plants.

He doesn’t say hello.

“Hi,” Efri says, because she is polite; she ducks under his arm and stands in his little entrance hall, on his nice smooth blue rug. “What did you want?”

“What did I –” the Archmage says; there’s a brief flash of the eyes as he turns, the glow of the mage-lit sconces reflecting off his irises. “Ah. Nothing in particular. Do you mind if I go tend to the garden?”

Efri squints at him. (He’s being strange. In a different way to usual.) Suspiciously, she replies, “All right.”

So he turns and goes. His quarters – spacious and lavish like a jarl’s longhouse – don’t punch the breath out of her like they did the first few times she saw them, but they’re still a lot. The magic lights, the near-glow of the threads of the rugs, the smooth beautiful wood of the furniture. It’s more’n two times the size of Efri’s old house, and that’s before the dragon burnt it down. It’s all full of books and knick-knacks in a way that makes her almost envious. And of course it has the garden; there’s not words for how wonderful the garden is.

The Archmage crosses the floor with neat, steady steps, one hand tugging on the hood of his mantle. His gardening gloves lay creased on a little red-wood desk; he pulls them on and marches over to the garden without so much of a glance.

He shakes, a little, as he crouches down on the edge of the stone steps so he can reach the dirt. Maybe he’s a bit cold – it’s never quite warm in here no matter how the fire burns. Or maybe his knees are aching and weak. Efri understands that old people get that, sometimes.

(She still doesn’t know why he called her here; doesn’t know why he’s not telling her. She doesn’t believe it’s nothing; he’s never done it before, usually seems vaguely put out by her presence, even if it’s in a way she can tell isn’t entirely genuine. If it was something silly, like wanting someone to talk to about a problem with the plants, he’d either wait for her to visit on her own time or just say so.)

(But she often doesn’t understand quite why he does the things he does. So she doesn’t know.)

He stays quiet, and Efri thinks she recognises this quiet – if she talked at all right now, he wouldn’t hear it. Lost inside his own head. She squints at him for a moment, looks around the room; her eyes fall, after a moment, on the polished surface of the desk. It’s cluttered with inkpots and paper and all manner of little mage things; laying open is a book.

Efri takes a step off the rug and onto the stone with a leather-booted foot. She isn’t quiet about it; the Archmage doesn’t notice.

She goes to look at the book.

It’s quite old, she thinks, though not as old as some of the texts in the Arcaeneum; the pages yellowed and wrinkled with time, the leather she can see of the cover soft and supple. The page it’s opened to is covered over with sparse text; handwritten, too, and rather messily. It takes some effort but Efri is able to make out a few words.

Only because they’re familiar, though; only because she’s spent the last few days peering over Sissel’s shoulder as she pores over volumes that might give them the information they need (while still being succinct enough as to be comprehensible). Chapters of histories of the magical institutions of the world with only the vaguest descriptions of the ideas and practices of the Psijic Order; old College record-books that say nothing about an Augur.

On this wrinkled page Efri’s eyes, skimming over the small collections of words in a crisp, crabbed hand, lock onto the familiar shapes of Artaeum – of Psijic – of Winterhold. There are a few other capitalised words that look like names, though none of them mean much of anything to her. Deneth. Antilion.

Efri glances back at the Archmage, who is still crouching on the edge of the garden patch. His arms are limp by his sides, hands spread out on the stone.

She takes the book. (It might be relevant! She’ll give it back later!) She’s got no pockets big enough to put it in, so she hurries back over to the little entrance area and slips it under a dresser. She’ll take it out on her way out – have Sissel help her look through it for anything about the Augur they’re supposed to find or the strange mages they’ve been contacted by – and bring it back, later. No harm done.

The Archmage is still staring at the garden like it’s telling him secrets. She pads over to him on her toes, quiet as a mouse. Even when she’s standing over him, practically looming, her skirt definitely in position to be within the edges of his vision, he doesn’t turn. He’s like this, sometimes. Makes it easier to look through all his stuff without him complaining; makes it harder to talk, if Efri’s in a chatty mood, or to figure out what it is he wants.

Efri waits a few seconds – just to make sure – before she nudges him with her foot.

He startles, whole body twitching under the loose grey cloth of his robe. He looks up.

Efri says, “Are you going to tend the plants?”

The Archmage blinks. “Of course,” he says; his tone is somewhere between curt and bemused. “I was waiting for you to come over here.”

His eyes are fixed on some point on the ceiling, or on the shift of Efri’s mantle. Efri eyes him askance. “Well, I’m here now,” she tells him, like it’s not obvious, and kicks him gently one more time for good measure.

“Don’t,” he says. He doesn’t snap – still talks soft. Efri looks at him even more askance, but he’s already looking away, over his mage-lit bed of plants. They look good, as neat and cared-for as ever, though one of the hardy little bushes is growing more arms than it really needs and the gnarling rock-roots are beginning to drown out the little flowers – the ones that look like goatweed. A garden like this – miraculous, impossible, meddling – takes a lot of maintenance, especially when you’re not a plant-wizard, which, Efri has learned, is a real thing; there’s a surprising amount of plant-based spells, and in Morrowind the wizards actually grow big mushrooms to live in. But neither she nor the Archmage are much good at plant-spells; they have to do it all manual.

Mostly manual. The Archmage raises a hand; Efri watches as ice gathers in the air before his fingers, glittering in the magelight like a sharp-cut diamond (or like the ink-print drawings of them; Efri’s never seen one in real life). With a flick of his wrist he sends it scattering in jewel-bright drops over the patch.

(Efri would have had to get a watering can. Or rig up some complex irrigation scheme. Doing it with magic feels like cheating.)

But it is pretty. “Pretty,” she comments, because if she doesn’t, she is mostly sure the Archmage will forget she’s there.

His fingers curl. “Thank you,” he says. Frost begins creeping over his palm, piling itself on like a gentle drift of snow. After several seconds of him casting in silence and her watching in silence, he speaks again. “That was… a strange incident, the other day. Very strange indeed.”

Ah. The incident.

(The unfamiliar mage that appeared out of nowhere – offering no explanations, would speak to nobody – demanding to see the College’s youngest, newest member. A mage from some important society, no less; magical societies are hardly Efri’s area of expertise, but from the way that both the Archmage and his Advisor were falling over themselves to accommodate his bizarre requests it must be really important. And then they’d messed it all up by insisting that Efri and Kazari go as well as Sissel, even though he only asked for Sissel; and then he stopped time to talk to them and vanished into thin air as soon as he was done. And Kazari said they shouldn’t tell anyone about it.)

(That incident.)

“Mm,” Efri says in vague agreement. (Kazari said she shouldn’t tell anyone about it. And they made fair points. If the not-ghost had wanted the Archmage to know he would have brought him into the fold; Efri and her friends don’t even know what they’re doing, much less who they can trust about it.)

“Very strange,” the Archmage repeats. He curls his hand into a fist and the gathered snow seeps out of it. “And after all these years – he just leaves.” He looks back, the lines of his face stark in the glow of the magelight and the shadow of his hood, his eyes apple-red, and asks, “Do you think we offended him?”

Normally, the Archmage talks kind of blank. Dispassionate. Borderline lofty, borderline lordly, sometimes. This is not that.

(Efri can’t place what it is instead, but it’s not that. She bites the inside of her cheek.)

Affecting a shrug, Efri says, “How should I know? I didn’t talk to him.”

“Hm,” the Archmage replies, and turns back to the garden, a grey silhouette against the colourful shock of the plants.

“He seemed weird,” Efri offers, which is true. (Both versions of events make him seem weird: his cryptic warnings and his cryptic-er silence.)

The Archmage, shoulders slumped, repeats, “Hm.” There is a quiet moment. He says, “Would you like me to show you how to prune the canis root?”

Efri says, “Sure.”

So the Archmage steps into the garden, bare-footed on the sparse patches of free, damp soil. His toes must be very cold. He crouches down, knees clicking as he does – moves to the side of the plant growing sharp and sprawling out of the rock so Efri can see what he’s doing – and unsheathes a wicked little blade that winks in the magelight. He sets a hand on one of the dry, quavering roots (no, Efri notices – the root is still, it’s his hand that trembles) and positions the knife.

A quick, neat slice, right below the bud, to keep the root small and contained, else it might crawl over the rocks and strangle out everything else in the garden. The pruned-off root rests in the Archmage’s palm. He curls his fingers around it; Efri can see the leather of his gloves crease.

“Efri,” he says, sudden. Magelight runs like waterfall rapids down the grey wool of his back, the heavy fold of his hood. “Be careful.”

She’s not the one with the knife. She doesn’t know what he means. But the tremor in his hand is rattling his whole arm up to the shoulder, now, and he still sounds strange. A hundred years younger, maybe. Or much, much older.

“I know you think you’re on the edge of something great,” he goes on, that strange quality to his voice. He sounds like the pruning knife, like ocean storms, like old stone. “You’re curious. You want to know.”

Oh.

“You want to know, too,” Efri says, hand fisting in the pilling warm wool of her skirt. She feels defensive, though she’s not entirely sure of what. “And it’s important. It –”

His shape against the blossoming garden shifts. “Maybe,” he says. “Maybe it is. Maybe you are.”

He turns, then; his face stark blue-grey as the ancient stones, and Efri is suddenly, deeply certain that he has been in the College for aeons. He has never left this room. For a moment, all its luxury feels gossamer-frail; the air is heavy as ash and she is choking on it. She can make out nothing in the lines of the Archmage’s face. “Your great discovery,” he says, and it’s like a recitation. “Think about what it’s worth. Think about what it isn’t.”

In the main hall of the College, far below, the Eye of Magnus rests atop a streaming blue-light font. It spins, and spins, and spins.

“You’re being weird,” Efri tells the Archmage of Winterhold, and his lips flatten.

“Think about it,” he repeats with the distant finality of a bell’s toll, and he slices through another grown-out root, sap sticking bloodily to his blade.

[shanks-the-wino]

Shanks X CisFem Reader

The Tour

"So, did you inherit this place or something?" your fingers brushed gently over a large grape leaf basking in the sunlight.

"You just refuse to believe I built this place on my own, hmm?" the redhead chuckled playfully, "Ok, well, I did have a little help. My grandfather passed away and left me some money. But this vineyard didn't already exist."

"How long did it take?" you glanced up to meet his onyx gaze.

His face contorted in thought as his fingers ruffled through his red locks, "Hm about three years to grow the plants. Maybe a year of planning and picking the plants before that. It's been almost 15 years since."

"So, you were younger than me when you started this little empire." your tone was almost incredulous.

"Empire is a bit much," he blushed.

"You have taken over this side of the mountains, and you've got the old man making wine tour packages. I think everyone who is anyone gets married here."

"It just happens to be a good place to have this sort of business that's all." he shrugged fiddling with the plant closest to him.

"So modest." you chuckled bringing his black pearls back up to you.

"You have to stay humble when you have your own business," a crooked smile curved his lips, "ya never know when it could all go away."

"Well, I think you'll be safe. There seems to always be a market for good wine." you stepped closer to the redhead.

"You think it's good?"

You swore if he had a tail it would have been wagging.

"The sample you gave me at the resort was more than good, in my unprofessional opinion." you smiled a bit bashfully which made Shanks' pulse race, "Not that it really means much."

Your stomach did a flip as his hand gently enveloped your shoulder and he leaned down into your personal space.

"F/N, your opinion means more than most." his tone was low and perhaps a bit too sincere, he immediately cleared his throat yanking you out the moment, "I... I mean as a consumer and all...y-you know."

"Right," you agreed with a chuckle, "just like, your average Joe kind of opinion."

A sigh deflated him, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Just giving you a hard time." your lopsided smile gave him butterflies and brought the brightness back to his expression.

"Alright, shall we continue?" he gestured to the golf cart you'd traveled across the vineyard in, "I believe I promised you a tasting."

The tasting room was located in the cellar, which sounded a lot less appealing than it actually was.  You let out a breath of awe as Shanks parked the cart and announced your arrival.

A doorway carved into the stone of the foothill of the mountains. It was curved and framed with wild flowers of all kinds. The short stone path leading to the thick wooden door was lined with your favorite, gorgeous irises that happened to be in full bloom. Bees and butterflies fluttered about happily.

Shanks watched you with a soft smile. This was an unexpectedly beautiful moment that he was incredibly grateful to have witnessed.

"I see why people get married or here." you murmured caressing one of the flowers in front of you.

"It's really fairytale like." he admitted having been told that by many brides.

"It's like the freaking Shire." the unfiltered thought just tumbled from your lips.

Shanks let out a soft laugh, "I've heard that a few times. I suppose it does look like a hobbit should be living inside."

You chuckled in relief, "Did you design it that way on purpose?"

"With Bilbo in mind?" that crooked smile was making you feel warm, "No, I just wanted something that looked organic and was functional for storage so we didn't have to get too high tech."

"High tech?" you echoed.

"I'll show you," he stepped forward opening the door into the dimly lit room, "storage should be between 55 and 70 degrees and relatively humid. It allows the wine to age at a steady rate and it's how it was done before modern technology was around."

You followed him into the rather large room taking in the high rounded walls lined with racks filled with bottles. In the center of the room was a counter with a sink and a rack of delicate fluted glassware of different sizes hanging above. Shanks watched you take in your surroundings happy that you seemed so interested.

"Would you like to try some?" he asked reaching for the stemware.

"Sure, but I'm driving." you leaned over the counter.

"Don't worry a tasting isn't meant to get you drunk." he was already searching for a bottle he had in mind, "Not that it was my intention."

"Well, now I'm worried." you jested making him turn back.

"I certainly hope I haven't given you that impression." he raised his scarred brow.

"That joke was in bad taste I guess." you blushed a bit embarrassed.

He couldn't have found you more adorable.

"I'm sorry," the redhead chuckled, "it wasn't, you just said it so matter-of-factly."

"My humor isn't always appreciated."

"It should be, I actually find it pretty charming." he placed a bottle with a worn label and a small pale between you, "How do you feel about cheese?"

Meeting his curious gaze with a confused expression you replied, "I'm lactose intolerant, but that doesn't really stop me."

He let out an endearing laugh, "Well, I'd rather not poison you, so why don't we stick to fruit, crackers and some charcuterie?"

"What's happening?" you questioned as he gathered items from the pantry and fridge across the room.

"It's all part of the experience." he answered placing grapes, strawberries, seasoned crackers, aged salami and prosciutto on a plate.

You watched him work with interest. This was by far the fanciest thing you'd ever done. As he placed the plate between you and unquarked the bottle it dawned on you that this was starting to feel very much like a date.

Be cool.

Be cool.

Be cool.

"You ok?" Shanks asked, "Ya kinda zoned out there."

"Yeah," you glanced away sheepishly, "I just didn't expect the afternoon to turn out this way."

Shanks studied you for a moment before looking down at the counter. Seeing you go bashful sent him into a bit of a panic.

He'd unintentionally set himself up with you on a casual afternoon date. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

"Well, I was happy to show you around, and I suppose it'll help at work now that you've been around the place." he was suddenly wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

It's not a date.

It's not a date.

It's not a date.

All romantic tension deflated immediately as your expression fell.

"Uh, right," you quickly smiled but it wasn't genuine, "I don't make many bookings since I work overnight but I can train the day shifts I guess."

Why?

Why was he like this?

[odditycircus-2002]

Medusa!Reader and Shang Tsung in MK1: Part 6

PREVIOUS

NEXT

SPOILER ALERT: Proceed with Caution

You and Shang Tsung land in a stone chamber somewhere entirely unfamiliar. The Sorcerer is quick to push you away when your snakes attempt to bite at him again before using magic to bind your wrists together before you can use either your scythes or remove your mask. He then levitates you into the air to coo patronizingly at you.

"Honestly, my dove, did you really-"

Shang stops in midsentence when he notices a strange growth on his finger. The same one of your snakes knicked him with his fangs. This growth speared like a small flesh-covered branch with a couple of grape-sized orbs that were the same shade of blood, black veins quickly making their way up his wrist under the odd protrusion. Shang narrows his eyes when he plucks one of these orbs and pops them between his fingers, the smell of his blood immediately recognizable. He doesn't notice how the magic holding you flickers.

Shang then lights the growth with a familiar green magical aura before completely removing it from his body. He lets the strange protrusion fall to the ground and shrivel up before turning his attention back on you; watching as the black veins underneath start to recede. He explains that his benefactor taught him and his fellow sorcerer, Quan-chi, the magic Shang could only ever dream of. She promised them realms and, if he succeeds, the realms will be at his feet, and he wants you by his side when he does. Shang knows you're upset with him, but what happened to you came with a grand purpose in mind. He'll grow you gardens even more grand than Sindel's and grant all you desire in apology. His expression softens when he senses your dejection as you turn your head away from him.

"Our time together in our lab wasn't all a ruse, Y/N. Those were truly some of the best days of my life."

You then move your head in his direction and Shang follows your gaze with an, dare you say, hopeful expression on his face. Yet, it's soon erased when you inquire about the growth protruding from his finger, the same finger from earlier.

Shang's brows furrow in confusion as he observes the strange protrusion, his eyes widening when he sees the black veins under his skin grow faster than before. He then uses his magic to kill the lump again, only another to grow in its place with more branches and orbs. To his horror, on the other hand, another similar growth spurts from his wrist, most likely from another knick of your snake's fangs he didn't notice. Growing desperate, Shang rips out the strange plant from his wrist, gritting his teeth in pain as he uses his magic to heal the new wound. But it is in vain, as the veins continue to make their way up his arm. So the process repeats of Shang ripping out the strange branches and using his magic to heal the wound, but he could only keep the effects at bay, not cure it.

You start to lower from the air as Shang's magic wavers around you until it disperses completely, allowing you to drop back on the ground. You watch in morbid fascination as Shang visibly starts to exhaust himself from the vicious cycle you inadvertently put him in, circling around him as the Sorcerer falls to his knees. Shang pants while watching with horror as the veins grow and branches spring from his flesh, causing the skin to shrivel like old apples.

You then let a low giggle before gradually increasing in volume. It doesn't take long before the giggles transform into laughter that echoes in your empty chamber, giving the impression that a crowd of people has gathered around the dying Sorcerer to mock his misfortune. Shang Tsung can barely choke out his question, demanding to know why you're laughing. You could hardly hear Shang's words as the sound of your amusement travels down the tunnels surrounding both you and Shang.

After taking a breath to compose yourself and wiping away tears, you explain to Shang that it's humorously ironic that he's dying for something he created. He made you into this snake-like monster, and now he'll die from the same monster. You divulge to Shang that you're tempted to just watch him die, but you haven't forgotten how the Sorcerer brought you back to health.

You haven't forgotten how he would bring you flowers, prepare your favorite meals, patiently help you relearn how to use your hands due to how their nerves were damaged, gently bathe you, careful to not irritate your burns, and whisper assurances after you first saw your new form... Nor have you forgotten how he turned your innermost thoughts into pure nightmares or coerced you to hand over your life's work.

For these reasons, you offer to put Shang Tsung out of his misery and show him the syringe filled with the poison you use to euthanize your patients when Tarkat takes hold of their minds permanently. Shang catches a glimpse of your sinister grin similar to the one he'd give to his experiments. A grin made more malicious from your fangs. Despite how every breath became harder and harder to draw, he couldn't help but find you beautiful even now.

It doesn't surprise you when he refuses to be euthanized, claiming he will not die like some sick dog. You reply by saying that, at some point, you wished he put you down like a sick dog. With that, you bid the Sorcerer farewell for what you thought the final time. You then take off running down a random hall to, hopefully, freedom. By the time Shang hears your footsteps dissipate completely, he sees the edges of his vision go black. Yet, just as he was about to slip into the inky blackness's embrace, possibly forever, he spotted a familiar pair of glowing electric blue eyes. Once again, Damashi proves to be his salvation when she sticks him with a syringe filled with a blue liquid. Immediately, the bloody orbs shriveled up to dust; then branches started to fall off him; life returned to his skin; finally, the black veins receded from his arms.

"Y/N is ready."

Admittedly, running off into an environment you're not familiar with to escape your captor may not have been the best plan on your part. You can make out you're in a mountain or within a mountainous terrain based on the smells you can pick up. There are seemingly endless tunnels no matter which way you go. However, thanks to your snakes, you could use them as whiskers to feel the airflow around you. They eventually led out to a large chamber where you could sense the most airflow, a chamber filled with mountains of gold koins that glittered in the torchlight from the burning basins surrounding the area.

You silently make your way through the gold, occasionally ducking and hiding behind pillars when you hear someone passing by. It turns out to be primarily guards you recognize from Shao's army, which only confirms your suspicions that the general is in on this whole conspiracy. Yet, out of all the people you expected to be traitors, you didn't want to believe it to be the High Mage, Rain.

You were crouched next to a small ornate boat when you saw Rain overseeing a large pot filled with molten gold with a simple machine fanning the flames. He spoke with a hooded woman with a skull mask about another sorcerer named Quan-chi and how soon Shao is expected to overthrow Sindel. You barely held in a gasp and more or less had to strangle your snakes to keep them from hissing. You have known Rain since he was a child when he used to run around with Mileena and Katana in the palace. He was such a curious and bright boy when you met him after he caught you using your hydromancy to create your medicinal elixirs. You still remember how he visited you practically every day, asking you a million questions about your magic and how you used it. You honestly thought he would've become an imperial healer like you, but you weren't surprised when learning that Rain studied to become a high mage, given his primary focus was how you controlled water.

Was everyone you knew in the imperial house a traitor??? You couldn't help but think to yourself as you ground your teeth together in frustration. Deciding to wrestle with that concept later, you waited until Raine moved away from his spot before making your move. You could see snow raining down, but you restrained yourself until you reached the threshold. That's when you bolted, almost tripping over a stone barrier that led down a steep drop of about 30 meters, but caught yourself just in time. While you didn't get much practice with your wings (with most of them crashing to the ground and frightening Baraka). Still, you're mostly positive that you have a slight chance of dying. You then looked around for any guards, finding them too far to do anything, before running off the stone wall. You smiled widely as you jumped off the wall, glad to be finally free. And then you fell.

Luckily, your wings opened in time for you to catch an updraft that sent you hurdling through the air. You let out a brief laugh, relieved to be gaining air and NOT falling to your death. However, this relief is short-lived when you hear an ear-shattering screech to your side and are tackled back to the fortress by a red blur. You both try to bite at one another as you wrestle one another on the ground, simultaneously trying to avoid being bit by the other. Nitara eventually pushes you away from her when too many of your snakes get too close to biting her. You immediately recognize her as Vaternian from the stories you heard as a girl from the Battle of Chesna Fields and from Baraka during his days in the Daybreak Legion. Because of the latter, you have a good idea of how to take the Vaternian down. Nitara informs you that she's been instructed to not allow you to leave, as Shang Tsung and Quan-chi still have plans for you. Plans that will ensure that Nitara will be able to save her realm. So you and Nitara fight, mercilessly tearing into one another.

A/N: Sorry, I ran out of space😅, but I hope you enjoyed this latest installment! Stay weird, my fellow humans.

[crab-rangoon-slut]

The Blood We Shed Chapter 4

Author’s note: last chapter was marked mature for the adulty-dult scenes in case you couldn’t read it, anyway enjoy!

Chapter rating: More mature, non-explicit sexual content

Type: Slow burn, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, eventual blood as lube hehe~

See chapter 1 for synopsis⬇️⬇️⬇️

I don’t know which god is meddling in my private life, but Zeus if I can’t shake those goddamn dreams.

The only thoughts prospering in my head as of right now are how Telemachus would feel and sound.

It was the last thought I had falling asleep and the first I had this morning.

It’s the only thing I can think about.

I had hoped that taking care of myself would’ve swept it under the rug, but it might’ve made it come back with a vengeance—If I didn’t have to work the vineyard today, I’d probably be bedridden.

It’s midday and I’ve been picking grapes with my mother, both of us sweating under the heat of the summer sun. Not the most glamorous job, but it’s a paying one nonetheless.

The work is easy…well, at least the picking grapes part is. I have a strong disdain for when we have to squash them—It's a sensory nightmare.

At this point, I’ve entered that lovely flow state where I’m mindlessly picking bunches and tossing them into a basket. However…It makes it quite easy for your mind to wander.

Unbeknownst to me, my pace of work slows as I lose focus. I slowly pluck a cluster of grapes from the vine and stare into it…

“Come on~ come on~ you can take it all—”

“—ou’ve been awfully quiet this afternoon.”

I nearly jump out of my skin at my mothers voice—

After recovering from a damn near heart attack, I realize she’s been watching me zone out.

“It’s this damn heat,” I lie; but to be honest, it’s not far from the truth. This is also an excellent alibi for the warm blush on my cheeks.

She raises an eyebrow.

Fucking mothers’ intuition bullshit. I think to myself as I try not to squirm under her questioning gaze.

“Something on your mind?”

Without missing a beat, I quickly devise a second lie,

“I was just thinking about going to the market today. I just remembered we’re out of sage.”

My mother’s eyes linger on me. I know she doesn’t buy it. But there’s no way she’d be able to guess what’s actually going on in my head.

So… in the clear—?

“Are we? I hadn’t noticed.”

—Nope. Not with that suspicion in her voice

“Yes, and I was hoping to use it for dinner tonight, I’m thinking I make stuffed fish?”

“I suppose that does call for a trip to the market, and honestly I’d love to not cook tonight.” She smiles while wiping her brow.

Then she pauses.

“If you can plant your feet on the ground long enough to finish another basketful, you can head over. Just don’t be too long.”

I grin, she’s at least partially bought it. Plus I love going to the market~

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

The smell of spices, fresh breads, and cooking food blossom around me as I walk down the line of stalls. The cobblestone road is hidden under the clamoring feet of far more people than I can count.

It’s peak hours right now and probably as busy as it will get all day.

A smile spreads on my face.

It’s loud…A cacophony of barterers, idle chatter, and hollering salespeople trying to shout above the noise. I love it.

As I weave through the crowd I wave to the familiar faces of shop owners that I’ve gotten to know. Sometimes I work the stall with my mother; In turn, I’ve made friends with local owners and creatives. I’ve also learned a lot of regulars’ names.

I decide to make a trip to a friend's stall.

I spot a tent, probably the most colorful one in the entire market.

It’s brimming with flowers and garden decorations that are made to reflect sun beams. There’s that lively stall I know.

I call out to her as I approach the stall,

“Katerina!”

“Hey, Lyra!” she says, smiling as warm and welcoming as ever.

Katerina is a pretty girl. A delicate pink flower sits in the dark hair that frames her face. Today she’s wearing her hair up, held together with a golden clip. Her face is peppered with freckles that the summer sun has made pop.

“How are you, Love?” She says welcoming me with a grin.

I return a smile akin to hers,

“I’m well—What do you have today?”

“Oh! Look at these poppies!”

She exclaims with excitement as she pulls a tied bouquet to the forefront of the stall for me.

The vibrant reds and oranges practically glow.

“Those are stunning…” I say as I fondle the petals gently. I find myself softly rubbing them in between my fingertips, feeling how smooth and delicate it is. It carries almost the same feeling as skin….

“Lyra. Are you well?”

I snap out of it—Katerina is smirking at me.

I shake off the thoughts,

“Gods, is it that obvious??”

She bursts out laughing,

“Lyra you’re blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. WHAT are you thinking about?”

The description hits a liiiiiitle too close to home, and I’m sure my face shows it. I look away briefly in an attempt to stop my expression from giving my thoughts away—apparently that was the wrong thing to do.

“Oooh I see,” her smirk morphs into a full fledged grin,

“And how’s the prince~?”

“He’s fine—” I say, but really it was more of a mumble. I continue to refuse to meet her gaze.

She doesn’t even try to conceal her excitement,

“You’re having dirty thoughts aren’t you?? Did something happen between you two? Did you finally lose y—”

“SHHH! Quiet down—“ I hiss in protest, begging her to be quiet.

I blush profusely,

“And no… nothing happened.”

Her face drops,

“Well fuck, Lyra! What’s going on with you then?”

I don’t even try to lie to her, she knows me too well. And besides I trust her with these things. She’s known for quite awhile about my pining.

I half cover my face onto my hand as I lean into my elbow on her counter,

“Zeus, I can’t get this damned dream out of my head!”

A mischievous grin dances on her lips,

“So you WERE having filthy thoughts~ I knew it.”

“I can’t help it! Gods know if I could I would. I feel awful thinking about him in that kind of light… Damn it…” I put my head in my hands,

“I’m being a fucking pervert.”

She cocks her head to the side to look me in the eyes, paralleling mine.

“You’re being YOUNG, you’re going to have thoughts like that. Don’t kill yourself over it.”

Her words don’t do much to choke out the guilt.

“Besides,” Katerina starts,

“Do you know how many other girls have to be pleasuring themselves to the same idea as you?”

I lift my head out of my hands and look at her better with a cringe and total disgust on my face,

“Please never say that again.”

I toy with the poppies trying to get that picture out of my head.

The idea of other girls fantasizing about Telemachus—though surely certain—is enough to make my skin crawl.

…Or make me throw up.

…Or get violent.

…Or all of the above at once.

“I’m just saying,” she put her hands up in defense before crossing her arms.

She’s clearly assumed in my discomfort,

“You at least have a leg up in the situation…”

She grins wickedly,

“…Did you have a leg up in that dream of yours as well?”

I push myself off the counter, pointing an accusatory finger at her,

“ FUCK YOU KATERINA !”

She falls into a fit of laughter at my pretend outburst. She wipes a tear from her eyes,

“Hey, hey! I’m not the one you wanna do that with!“

I groan, “You’re insufferable.”

Still flustered, I roll my eyes at her; she knows not to take it seriously. I take my place back on her counter, watching as a couple approach her stand and start poking and prodding at her wares.

“I’ll let you be, I know it’s busy right now.” I pull myself off the counter.

“It’s been a second since you’ve accompanied your mother to the market, don’t be a stranger ok?” She says with a soft and genuine smile.

“I won’t~” I grin as I'm about to head off to get what I need to make dinner. I'm definitely going to get an extra fish in case we have an unexpected guest tonight.

“And Lyra… do something about those dreams.”

I wave goodbye to her as I return to the sea of people and wonder what she means by that.

Do what exactly?

There’s not much TO do?

I shake my head as I let the thought settle in the back of my mind.

[kaeyapilled]

What are some fics that you think are must reads for kaeya fans?

TEEHEE okay i think i have rec'd most of these before when i was asked for fic recs some time ago but its ok. here are the most kaeya fics ever in my opinion !

clouds in a lake by VelleRue

“Pot of butter,” Kaeya mumbles beneath his breath, eyes roving over the words. Alone, the words wouldn’t be very special. The shapes and sounds don’t scare him as much anymore, not like they did when he was new and wore shoes with torn soles and only knew how to say, My father told me he was going to buy grape juice.

Together though, they sound like the orange-yellow light of the oil lamp flickering in the corner. They sound like sticky fingers and bread rolls. Like a dinner table of three.

Cake and a pot of butter.

this one is so bittersweet and melancholic and i love all the headcanons in it and the way it's written oughhh it's a great read!! short but really good

stubborn roots by alexithymias

Kaeya’s plan to end his life is interrupted when Rosaria asks him to take care of a plant for a few days.

this one is heavier so definitely pay attention to the tags but, oh my god. this rewired my brain SO violently. i adore the concept and the characterization is really on point. it is so painful in all the good ways i like stories to be painful. i really recommend it!!

I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta

A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.

im pretty sure ive rec'd this before but this is like, one of my favorite portrayals of kaeya and his bio father ever. its just so good. so delightfully sad. a breath of fresh air from the common headcanon that his father was an evil asshole. the kaeya & crepus bits are also really good and i like the author's hcs about khaenri'ah/the abyss SO much

not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery

Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive. Kaeya Alberich, not yet Ragnvindr, knew how to fear before he knew how to talk. As the heir to the regency of a dead kingdom, a spy-in-training to be sent to the surface world, as the last hope of Khaenri’ah – there were many things to fear. And later, as the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt and a traitor no matter what he chose, Kaeya Alberich ex-Ragnvindr knew that as long as he lived, he would be afraid.

i have definitely rec'd this one before. but i just really love it!!! my comment on the bookmark says "literally the best kaeya character study i have ever read" and yeah that still holds up. shaped a lot of my kaeya hcs. i love this author

Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice

The first time the thought occurs to Kaeya he is eleven years old. Well, that’s not exactly true. It had been twisting in the back of his head for a long time, already. Formless and unspoken, an ever-present awareness, a whisper. But the first time it rings in his head, put in words, bright and shiny and just behind his eyes—

He is eleven. *** A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand. (Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)

OH I MUST HAVE REC'D THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BUT THIS IS REALLY A MUST READ. first of all heed the tags because it touches quite heavy topics! but this entire concept is SO interesting to be explored in kaeya's character and this author does it SO well..... this is one of my favorite fics, like, ever, lmao. absolute kaeya must read To Me

Lamellae by scripturient

A slowish movement in a discordant key, wherein Kaeya has bitten off rather more than he can chew and needs significant help; meanwhile, malady exposes buried memory and dread. A limited plot from a limited point of view which dabbles in themes of pain, trust, angst, conflict, and betrayal. Not quite a character study.

the writing style in this one is SO cool, i love it! non-linear narratives are my thing, i never get tired of it. and the whump in this is so good.. i like whump fanfiction, lol. the combination of characters in this is really fun as well, though everything is told from kaeya's very disoriented point of view. anyway, amazing exploration of his character!! the next work in this series, The thaw that comes in springtime (plus the next next work!), is also really good and i loved it, particularly the ragbros bit lol. another must read!

undertow / oversight by MercuryPoisoning

In which Kaeya gets by with a little help from his friends.

another one i feel ive rec'd before, but i love it. really good characterization!! especially his relationship with diluc!!! really good read. i love this author's stuff a lot lol. (bonus by the same author, and another one i consider a must-read even though it's still in progress and also way heavier than most of the previous recs: sleeping marble lion! i really like the writing style and the concept!!! pay attention to the tags but trust me it's a delightfully gut wrenching one<3)

whew. i think i have a few more i could have added here. i just went through my bookmarks lol i have read a decent amount of kaeya fanfiction. hope these are to your liking!!! fic rec'ing is one of my favorite activities

[sencity]

yan! botanist content? i am eating this up, we are so well-fed. but dare i present, yan! botanist x entomologist darling?

hear me out… as a botanist, he does happen to dabble in fieldwork from time to time. prior to meeting you, he’s always gone out alone, but that won’t be necessary anymore, not with you around of course. and, oh, how perfect it is that you too, partake in nature research.

conducting fieldwork with him is so wonderful! he’s so knowledgeable, and surprisingly even a bit in entomology; plants and insects are crucial for their environment and one another, you know. he’s showing you all the beautiful flora, even informing you about their histories and roles in the ecosystem. while you’re studying the insects, he offers to help catch them in jars for you! no matter how many bug bites he gets, it’s all worth it for you. and how his heart swells with absolute love and adoration when you patch him up with bandaids and kisses afterwards.

nothing beats bonding over two people’s passions that co-exist perfectly–– especially when you’re in a grand field, of tall grass and little visibility, miles and miles away from any type of civilization; no one to bother the both of you, no one to take you away from him, just you two.

RAHH this man has awakened something in me…

you don’t understand how i’m tittering in my covers reading ts. my mind FLOODED with ideas bro. just… let me add onto this thought. your mind is WONDROUS.

nightmare fuel: none, unfortunately. except me not proofreading.

sen’s statement(s): link to the rest of my yandere!stinkers, let alone the yandere!botanist because why not?

it was a given that mother nature had finally answered his prayers; of course his love interest has an adoration towards insects! could life get any better!? insects are essential to plant life and vice versa. it’s the universe telling you that he needs you, and you need him! the two of you will soon flourish under each other’s love, why wouldn’t you become the butterfly to his pistil?

although you’ve forgotten about the times when he’d try to act cool for you or a little uncharacteristically, he surely goes out of his way to assist you on your projects. whether it’s collecting blister beetles in jars for your research despite the seething pain emerging in his palms or leading you into secluded fields to chase butterflies with wings that match the colors of your guys’ eyes, he’ll be there! still, you do tend to question his motives when he asks what a certain flower reminds you of and comes up with some poetic, philosophical answer to impress you. jeez, save it for the yandere!poet…

“is that right? hm, i’d assume that wisteria reminds you of your dreams… or that little starfish you’re so fond of—”

“the ochre sea star! yes, they’re nowhere near as perfect as you, but they’re lovely—oh! or plums and grapes! i love purple!”

there’s the sencha you love, the one who rambles about his simplistic passions and dislikes since he’s easily (dis)pleased. you’re here to listen to them all, even if they’re a little irrational and aimless like stick bugs…

goddamn, he can’t stand stick bugs.

even though he alters his personality to your liking sometimes (and fails horrifically, of course) he sometimes manages to appeal to your interest… by being himself. there was a time when you fixated on fireflies, wanting to study the patterns and language of their little light bulbs or what genetics causes some lightning bugs to not glow. sencha of course ran with this information and wanted to help to his best ability by insisting on you to sit your pretty self on the porch while he fetches a few for your research. you weren’t too fond of the idea of him doing the job for you, also potentially taking the fun out of it, but you allowed it this once…

you were going to go retrieve him since it seemed that he disappeared, but it just took him so long to collect so many. you would think he used the jar method again but decided that that’s not enough to truly get you to believe that he loves you, therefore he attracted fireflies with his bare hands…

…by coating his hands and forearms with sugar water in order to please the ravenous lightning bugs. primary his sticky hands were coated with tiny gleaming lights since he started off catching them with his palms, and it’s only natural for the rest of them to follow in pursuit.

“i uh, made a few friends along the way…?” he would titter unsurely as his arms expressed ethereality. he was referring to the random moths or flies that were also interested in the treacly treat, but that was the last thing you were fixated on since you were ordering him to not move so you could take pictures…

the two of you were truly an inseparable duo, a nature fusion much like leaf bugs or orchid mantises…

while we’re on the subject of orchids, the flower is one the both of you are very fond of, even though the both of you are suffering from a silly case of synesthesia.

when y/n hears the word orchid she sees a fuzzy yellow that resembles a bumble bee ever so faultlessly. she could never forget how he managed to get his hands on a bee orchid just to prove that his field of study compliments yours greatly. his point has only been proven even more when you giddily bring up that “orchid mantises” exist somewhere in the wild…

when sencha reads the word orchid, your honey-imbued lips drip onto his taste buds which awakens his sweet tooth and sends him into a sugar rush. you were a gift from mother nature, handcrafted by the goddess psyche herself. he even grew different species of orchids just because he cares for the flower so much!

normally you would adulate the bed of vibrant orchids and laborious pollinators that sprawled across the fields while pondering about those simple facts, whereas he would adulate you like how the tides adore the sand. it’s very hard to wrap around that the two of you were a match-made in heaven; he was sure to make you his once the fireflies began to coruscate …

[aelfheimerandrobots]

Sims au: Old Helex, Castle Heights, Old Dreadnaught Castle| Overlord

Brought to you by popular demand we are now featuring a tour of the infamous, Dreadnaught Castle! This castle has gone by many names over the centuries and certainly has a reputation of a sort but it's current owner has certainly done quite a deal to turn this crumbling old fortress into a magnificent mansion! Now this tour may take us awhile ( a reblog or two) due to its sheer size, but don't let that deter you! This masterpiece is worth the long walk! Should you survive ....

Rather than a street view look we'll start this tour with an aerial shot of this sprawling estate. From it's magnificent front towers to it's beautiful gardens and lovely private pool this mansion features of plenty modern touches to bring the crumbling relic up to our contemporary standards. With solar panels galore, on-site farming, rain capture water heaters, and natural springs this space does it's best to erase whatever carbon footprint it might take to keep this place up and running. And the incredibly manicured gardens surely- wait...do those trees look...phallic to anyone else?

*ahem* Yes, well, phalic nature of the tree-lined exterior approach aside, the gardens are excellently maintained and offer lovely moments of picturesque splendor in this quaint countryside. And what a front walk this makes for! With a romantic fountain, iron lampposts, and an expansive patio with elegant architecture this space certainly holds to higher standard of elegance and atmosphere.

Continuing our tour of the grounds, we'll be starting with the southern garden path. This lovely pathway beckons us in with a fantastical archway and leads down an ancient but lovingly restored path to the Castle's growing fields. While not terribly expansive this section of the grounds do offer horribly fertile ground to grow grapes for the ground's famous in-house wine. I'm told that most of the manor's food needs can also be supplemented from these fields and offer a lovely tableau for the grilling and picnicking area adjacent to the fields. This outdoor rest area looks out perfectly over the estate's expansive pond, which we will happily explore next!

This large pond can be easily accessed via the posterior entrance to the estate grounds as well as from the Castle directly. The Castle entrance here leads from the ground-floor laundry and storage area directly onto this waterway and it's lovely collection of flora and fauna. With romantic archways and grottoes reserved for enjoying the beauty of nature one can hardly blame Overlord, the current owner, from doing his best to stock the pond with local wildlife. Why there's a lovely pair of swans who- Is that an Alligator? No not the log, the thing next to the log. I saw it move! I did! Right there! I- ugh... okay fine. Let's move on to finish the tour of the grounds.

This long back walk opens toward the road leading to the estate and back out to the road, allowing access to staff and guests alike from the rear should they not wish to traverse the long drive to the front entrance of the estate. Though, I'm told it's bad manners to approach the estate in this manner. The walk is lined with lovely memorials to beloved pets who once walked these grounds and opens up to the west side of the grounds which feature a historical graveyard that has largely been overtaken by native plant growth, now cut back and cultivated to reveal more of the old facade. How odd though that some of those graves seem freshly dug. Also why is there a giant bonfire located near the gravesite? Hm. Yes well, moving on. The West end of the grounds also feature some ruins from the old castle which have been left intact for posterity but removed from the castle proper due to their crumbling nature and state of disrepair. And with the grounds wrapped up, let's head on inside for the rest of the tour!

We enter on the ground floor into the lovely foyer which features many of the estates modernized furniture while also highlighting the eras that have come before. Particularly the nineteen twenties which saw quite a bit of activity for the Castle! With lovely art deco revival pieces and stately vintage furniture to highlight updated facades and restored architecture, this foyer feels grand and welcoming. The water feature in particular is quite lovely and an amazing statement piece! Huh, that vase...is that really an urn? Hm. I'm sure I must just be mistaking it for a funeral urn, that's all. Shall we move on?

Heading into the hallway on the right we've entered into a stately passageway that features some lovely modern art pieces as well as a bit of industrial storage while still providing access to the safety measures included in the castle to protect the owner's vast investment into this home.

Heading into the door on the right and we've entered into the ground floor office space. This cozy den has plenty of charm and really highlights the use of industrial, art deco, and luxury inspired pieces to create a cohesive and good-looking environment. The office's private bathroom also features lovely tile work that manages to avoid feeling cramped thanks to the vaulted ceilings and large mirror. Just around the corner from the couch is the first set of stairs on the east end of the castle, which will eventually become the east tower. Ah and I see we've included a few antique taxidermy pieces. What a...lovely vulture skull. Oh and a preserved cow-plant! How...unsettling beautiful. Erm, let's just head on out shall we?

We'll head next into the door at the end of the hall which leads us into the ground-floor laundry which has access to both the exterior grounds as well as the pool deck and patio space! The laundry itself is serviceable and feels charming with much of the original stonework and infrastructure remaining intact. And with this room we'll go ahead and take a break before returning to our impressive tour!

[frostybearpaws]

Vicilite Life Cycle

Reproduction

There are two main ways for a vicilite to reproduce. Asexually, in which the egg sacks grow from Vicelium and develope for three weeks before breaking off to the main growth. Or sexually there gametes meet. The origin for each Vicilite may be different, however the process after being detached from either the vicelium or dam is the same.

Egg Sack

An impregnated Vicilite can gestate up to ten egg sacks at a time, however this number varies gestation period to gestation period. The egg sacks take about three weeks to develop upon which point they will be expelled from the mother’s body and placed in various nesting sights. Vicilites start their lives sharing an amniotic sack with up to twenty other siblings, however by the end of this six month development period only two or three will emerge as the others cannibalize each other once the initial yolk runs out.

Larvae

Adults have a designated room where they store the eggs that are to hatch. Within this room scrap metal and organic material such as plant matter and carcasses are placed around this area. After the larva emerge firm their egg sacks they begin to consume what is around them under the watchful eyes of the guardians (individuals with the role of watching over the nest sights and protecting them from intruders). For almost three months the larva will eat what is available around them and grow from the size of a grape to over two feet long. When they are sufficiently fattened up, they begin to pupate.

Pupa

Vicilites remain in their pupa stage for six months metamorphosizing into a vicilite nymph. During this time they are moved from the nest and placed into a hatchery. This is to prevent any new larva from consuming their brethren. Pupa all begin white but gradually begin to show the colors they will become later in life as the day for them to emerge approaches.

The Tumultuous Path to Adulthood

The entire process from hatchling to adult takes about twenty years to complete itself. It may seem like a long time, but in the grand scheme of a vicilite life span 20 years is an insignificant number.

Emergence

The act of breaking out of their cocoon is a very violent, tiring, and stressful process. The vicilite first begins to thrash and kick, using as much strength it can muster to break the confines of the cocoon. When there is a sufficient opening the hatchling must work its way out of the tight fit. This is a dangerous chapter in the vicilites life as failure to emerge from their pupa can lead to them drowning in the remaining fluids. Once emerged the hatching lays on the ground to rest and it collected by caretakers.

Infant/Hatchling (emergence — 1 year)

The first year of the emerged vicilite’s life is spend being cared for by parents and members of the colony. Infants are about the same size as adults however they are not covered in protective armor instead the soft layer of skin is all they have against the elements. For this reason infants are more susceptible to temperature changes and physical attacks. Infants are also weaker than adults needing to build up muscle mass as the grow. In these first few months of the infants life they are carried by parents and brought food that has been gathered.

Fry (1 — 4)

By this point on the vicilite’s life they have started to develop the first layers of armor. This does keep them more protected than when the were infants, the armor is still soft leaving the fry open to attacks. However the presence of this armor does allow for better temperature regulation. At this point in the vicilite’s life cycle they are starting to explore their surroundings and gain better muscle control. Later in fryhood they begin to learn how to speak.

Celiette (5 — 9)

The physical differences between fry and celiette are minimal however the developmental characteristics are vast. Celiettes have better muscle control and have gained the ability to form sentences. At this point the vicilite is beginning to learn social cues and is starting to develop friendships with others their age.

Wireling (9 — 13)

Wirelings are beginning to learn how to contribute to the group learning roles they can play to keep the colony functioning. By this point the vicilite has entered the second stage of armor and are covered in a harder casing however there is still a final stage that must be complete. At this point there are still gaps that need to fuse together or grow in which has not occurred yet. At this point the wirelings are learning how to hunt and identify edible plants. This is also the time reproductive systems begin to activate and the youths begin to explore sexuality.

Nymph (13 — 18)

The nymph has begun to transition into the third and final stage of armor development. Once they reach 16 or 17 the armor will be difficult to damage due. However there are still parts that need fusing. Also around this point, nymphs will begin participating in adult activities such as hunting and gathering as well as guarding the hive.

Vicilette (18 — 20)

The vicilites are fully developed physically and are on their way to being fully mentally developed as well. They are still technically children hence the name vicilette instead of vicilite.

[ratsoh-writes]

Their favorite flowers and fruit get extinct: Farmers and Dancetale

Peaches: well just end him why don’t you. His favorite fruit happens to also be his staple crop grown in his orchid. That’s not just his snack of choice. It’s his livelihood! Peaches is very depressed until rancher slaps some sense into him

Rancher: his favorite fruit happens to also be peaches. Rancher is less sad over its disappearance and more mad over the money lost. Fruit trees are expensive, it takes some years for the yield to make a good return on what you had to pay to plant and grow all the trees. The farm will have better luck turning into a cattle ranch then trying to start over.

Ram: so all the wild berries are gone? Bummer. But not life threatening. There’s other forage out there for ram to supplement his grocery bill with. He does worry a tad about the animals who relied on those bushes too though

Pitch: he’s more concerned about how such a common flower could just go extinct so easily. There was no signs of disease on the wilting plants? So how did they die so fast? Pesticides? A bug? Weather change? This research project will keep him busy for years

Cider: he will legit murder someone if the grapes his family grows just all die out someday. Sure they have wheat to make beer with still, but dammit he loved the grapes and wine! His family is gonna pour a fortune into finding out the cause, and attempting to bring the grapes back.

Barley: for once he’s working hard with his family to keep the business afloat while his grandparents hire researchers to find out what happened. Seeing how stressed every one is ignited the rare flame of worry in barleys soul lol.

Moose: he’s gonna be so sad that the wild huckleberries died out. He did really love them. But the wild animals loved them more. So to help stabilize the park animals population, moose and the other ranchers plant domesticated berry bushes around the forest to make up for the loss. They hope that the plants will last long enough to start regrowing the next year.

Maple: he takes like almost the whole season to notice his favorite flower just… hasn’t been around? Well… that sucks! Time to choose a new flower!

Pop: he only notices his favorite flower is gone when he decides to pick a bunch for his soaps and realizes he can’t find any! Pop searches for HOURS looking for the flower and eventually comes home in the dead of night, tired and defeated. This continues for the next few days until his dad and brother finally find out what’s been stressing pop out

Rhythm: no pineapple??? What’s life without pineapple! This is a disgrace! A disaster! He’s so sad- oh! It’s strawberry season now…. He’ll mourn pineapple when it goes into season later.

[marsmarvel02]

So, I played Princess Peach: Showtime! last night, and I have some thoughts.

Warning: Spoilers for the entirety of Floor 1 under the cut.

Opening

Wow, the music is good.

I love Grape's design! So... unique!

Grape's name, however, is ... ehh. It could be worse, but I'd still prefer something a bit more intimidating.

Why does Stella have to make crying baby noises when she's upset? It makes it hard to take her seriously and it's honestly just really grating to listen to.

Stella's design, while not the worst thing in the world, just seems a bit... off to me. I can't place it, but something about her just looks... weird.

Why is light magic named "Sparkle"? It just sounds a bit... goofy.

Swordfighter-1

Wow, the loading times for levels are... a bit much.

Why does the "level loading" music have to have that long, low horn that sounds almost exactly like the noise older Nintendo games make when they crash? The first time I heard it, I freaked because I thought there was something wrong with my copy of the game.

Why did they make B the action button and A the jump button? In every other game I've played, B is jump! That button switch has actually made me die a few times in a later level, and generally made me bad at parts that require jumping with quick reflexes.

Wow, this game IS easy.

The pre-transformation sections of levels where you just run around swinging your ribbon at stuff are honestly kinda boring.

Oh man, Swordfighter Peach looks AWESOME!

Again, the game is still really easy, but blasting your way through hordes of Sour Bunch members makes you feel INCREDIBLY powerful.

And I love the acrobatic and flashy dodges too.

Why does the very imposing knight with the hammer go down in one hit? Seriously, all you need to do is jump over his shockwave once and oop, down he goes.

The end boss is CRAZY! Who'd've thought that a Mario (spinoff) game would have you fight a giant killer plant that ISN'T a piranha plant! Also, wow, this random spinoff gets original bosses and Mario Wonder doesn't.

Jokes aside, though, I love the thorny flower bud boss. Does it have a name?

Ninja-1

Normally stealth levels in games are the ones that everybody hates, but honestly this one is GREAT!

Again, the game is still pretty easy, but stealth-attacking enemies and taking them out in one hit also feels POWERFUL.

I love how the guards can't tell where Peach is when she has a freakin' SPOTLIGHT shining on her. Or when she's pressed up against a wall and her GIANT YELLOW PONYTAIL is sticking up above her camo paper.

Why does being spotted make Peach turn into a log and then teleport to just before whatever stealth section you failed? I mean, I get sending you back to try again, but what's with the log? Is it a reference to some ninja trope I'm not familiar with?

Oh man, the chase sequence is SUPERB. Especially the wallrunning bits, and

When the enemy drops one of the scrolls, and Peach somehow uses it to summon a giant wave to ride. It makes no sense, but it's FRICKIN AWESOME.

Honestly, I'd really like it if the wave chase had ended with the enemy dropping a second scroll, and Peach using it to summon another crazy setpiece. (Hey, I just realized, that wave is a "dramatic setpiece" both in-universe and in the video game sense.)

Patissiere-1

Once again, the section before the transformation is... rather slow.

Honestly, I was expecting this to be the "annoying gimmicky minigame level", but I'm pleasantly surprised. It's a gimmicky minigame level, sure, but not an annoying one.

While getting above the minimum required to advance in the cake-decorating and cookie minigames wasn't too hard, I can see that I'll have my work cut out for me when I come back to get all the Sparkle Gems.

This isn't too bad, but it's annoying how in the cookie minigame there isn't any visual indicator that you're about to overmix something.

Cowgirl-1

One word: AWESOME!

Again, the ease at which you can lasso enemies and throw them around makes you feel powerful.

Oh, and that barrel-throwing fight sequence manages to simultaneously be both awesome and hilarious. I don't know why, it's just funny in the best way.

Crazy Thought: Cowgirl Peach tests her barrel-lassoing skills against Donkey Kong.

That horse chase sequence is pretty fun, but it's also where I died a few times because I lassoed when I meant to jump.

And, to top it all off, the boss fight against the leader of the robbers is epic. My only disappointment is that, when he's charging around the arena after you, you can't matador him into those piles of gem boxes landing the first hit revealed. I understand why you can't, but I still wish you could.

Floor 1/First Main Boss

It appears that Peach understands as much as I do that, while forcing open the door that's obviously full of dark magic might be a bad idea, it's also the only way to progress the game.

I'm not sure what to think about the fact that you need Sparkle Gems to open the Spooky Floating Door. I mean, the cost was low enough that it wasn't a problem for me, but I could see it frustrating someone who isn't very good at the game (especially since doors on later floors will probably use the same mechanic), and speedrunners are probably going to HATE it.

Why is the evil version of Sparkle named "Darkle"? It just sounds stupid.

WE'RE FIGHTING A GIANT DISCO CHICKEN!

Oh man, Disco Wing is awesome. Especially the part where THE GRAVITY FRIGGIN' FLIPS UPSIDE DOWN!

It's funny how the only time Disco Wing does that giant rolling attack is when the arena has been changed in a way that makes it possible for Peach to dodge it. Disco Wing, you could've won easily if you'd just done that attack a few times at the start of the fight!

Crazy Thought: Disco Wing meets Hole Punch from Paper Mario: The Origami King.

NINTENDO, I WANNA REFIGHT THE DISCO CHICKEN! LET ME REFIGHT THE DISCO CHICKEN!

So, after fighting Disco Wing I finally checked out the dress shop, and THERE'S A DISCO DRESS! That is DEFINITELY what I'm wearing for the rest of the game (or at least until beating the next floor boss unlocks another crazy dress pattern.)

Disco Wing's boss theme wasn't very disco-y for some rea- WAIT, I JUST CHECKED THE OFFICLIAL SOUNDTRACK AND ALL THE MAIN BOSSES HAVE THE SAME THEME?! Nintendo, WHY??! Now I won't be able to hear Juno Songs make covers for each individual boss!

In conclusion, Showtime! is definitely a straight A of a game so far. If it keeps on being as good as it was, I might even consider pushing its grade up to an A+.

[syngoniums]

An unfamiliar grape I found at a cemetery. Mustang grapes (Vitis mustangensis) dominate this region, but they are very obviously different; larger in every way, with bigger clusters of fruit, and the backs of the leaves are white. The black grapes are also very tart and sting your mouth thanks to high quantities of oxalates. In contrast, the few edible-looking grapes on this vine were red and glaucous and quite mild and sweet, even though I don't think they were fully ripe. This offers us some constraints: extremely heat- and drought resistant, back of leaf not tomentose and same color as the front, smaller, palatable fruit, one large seed per fruit (collected three, 5-6mm long), grows on alkaline soil. There were other things I should have paid attention to, like the color of the bark and exact dimensions, and I should have collected a leaf for closer inspection of any small hairs, but I didn't.

I am very much not a Vitis expert, and admittedly haven't been paying much attention to them in general. There are a number of species in the area, including some Edwards Plateau endemics. The interesting thing about grapes, in contrast to the vast majority of plants, is that viticulture has neurotically picked over and assessed every North American species and natural hybrid for agricultural potential, no matter how obscure. You can find incredibly detailed charts for distinguishing one named cultivar from another. Theoretically this should make identification rather easy, but I'm still not certain. The five-lobed leaves suggest aestivalis, but the soil does not. Rotundifolia also excluded by alkalinity as well as the large size of its fruit. Berlandieri aka cinerea var. helleri seems like the most likely option, though I cannot find any indication it assumes a 5 lobed form. I suppose I can't eliminate Vitis monticola, but the same issue applies. It could be a hybrid with mustangensis, which does have an elaborately lobed form. It could be some manmade escapee. I'll go back at some point and take a better look.

[retinaclearreviews]

RetinaClear Reviews: The Natural Eye Health Supplement for Blue Light Protection and Vision Clarity

CLICK HERE TO VISIT - "OFFICIAL WEBSITE"

Introduction:  RetinaClear Reviews

Maintaining healthy eyesight has become more important than ever in today’s screen-dominated world. With long hours spent staring at digital devices, exposure to harmful blue light, and the natural effects of aging, our vision is under constant strain. That’s where RetinaClear steps in. This innovative eye health supplement is gaining attention for its science-backed formulation designed to support visual clarity and long-term retinal wellness.

What is RetinaClear?

RetinaClear is a nutritional supplement formulated to support overall eye health, with a specific focus on the retina—the light-sensitive tissue at the back of the eye. It is designed to help people who experience digital eye strain, aging-related vision decline, or other mild visual impairments. The product comes in easy-to-swallow capsules and is composed of natural vitamins, minerals, and plant-based antioxidants.

Unlike many synthetic or prescription-based solutions, RetinaClear Supplement is a gentle yet effective formula that works from within to improve eye function and protect against oxidative stress.

How Does RetinaClear Work?

RetinaClear Capsules work by targeting the key factors that contribute to declining vision:

Oxidative Stress Reduction: The retina is highly sensitive to oxidative damage. Antioxidants in RetinaClear help neutralize free radicals that could damage retinal cells.

Macular Health Support: It includes nutrients like lutein and zeaxanthin that support the macula—responsible for central vision clarity.

Circulation Improvement: Better blood flow to the eyes ensures more oxygen and nutrients reach the delicate ocular tissues.

Digital Screen Protection: With ingredients that may reduce blue light damage, RetinaClear helps alleviate digital eye strain.

Inflammation Control: Some compounds in the formula help calm inflammation that could otherwise impair visual function.

By addressing these key aspects, RetinaClear promotes sharper vision, reduces eye fatigue, and may even delay the onset of age-related conditions.

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RetinaClear Ingredients

RetinaClear boasts a blend of natural and clinically studied ingredients. Here's a look at some of the core components:

Lutein: A carotenoid found in the eye, known to filter blue light and support retinal health.

Zeaxanthin: Works alongside lutein to protect the macula and preserve visual clarity.

Bilberry Extract: Rich in anthocyanins, it helps improve night vision and reduce eye fatigue.

Vitamin A: Essential for good vision and preventing night blindness.

Zinc: Supports the structure of eye tissues and enhances the effects of Vitamin A.

Vitamin C & E: Powerful antioxidants that shield eye cells from damage.

Grape Seed Extract: Supports healthy circulation and contains anti-inflammatory properties.

These carefully selected ingredients are combined in an optimal ratio to deliver maximum support to your eyes.

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Benefits of RetinaClear

Many users report multiple benefits from consistent use of RetinaClear Capsules. Here’s what you can expect:

Improved visual clarity and sharpness

Reduced digital eye strain and screen fatigue

Enhanced low-light and night vision

Strengthened retinal and macular health

Long-term protection against age-related degeneration

Less dryness, irritation, and blurriness

These benefits often become noticeable within a few weeks of daily use, though individual results may vary.

How to Use RetinaClear

Using RetinaClear is simple and convenient. Each bottle contains a 30-day supply of capsules.

Recommended Usage:

Take 2 capsules daily with water.

Preferably take them with a meal to enhance nutrient absorption.

Maintain consistent use for at least 30-90 days for best results.

The product is suitable for adults of all ages, especially those who:

Spend long hours on screens

Are over the age of 40

Experience mild vision challenges

Are looking to proactively support their eye health

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RetinaClear Reviews and Complaints

When evaluating any supplement, customer feedback is one of the most telling factors. Overall, RetinaClear Reviews from users have been overwhelmingly positive.

✅ Positive RetinaClear Reviews:

“My vision feels more relaxed even after long hours at the computer.”

“I’ve noticed less irritation and sharper clarity, especially in low light.”

“After 2 months, I can read small print without squinting. Highly recommended.”

Many users praised the product for its natural formula, fast results, and lack of side effects.

⚠️ RetinaClear Reviews and Complaints:

Though rare, some users reported:

Delayed results when usage was inconsistent

Capsules being slightly large to swallow

Unavailability in local stores (online purchase required)

Overall, there are very few RetinaClear complaints, and most concerns relate to shipping or stock shortages rather than the product’s effectiveness.

Are There Any Side Effects?

RetinaClear Supplement is generally well-tolerated, thanks to its natural and clinically tested ingredients. There are no known major side effects when used as directed.

However, as with any supplement:

Pregnant or nursing women should consult a doctor before use.

Those with pre-existing medical conditions or on medications should seek medical advice.

Mild reactions like slight stomach upset may occur initially but are rare.

Where to Buy RetinaClear

Currently, RetinaClear Capsules are only available through the official website. This ensures you receive a genuine product with full customer support and refund protection.

✅ Buying Tips:

Look for bundle deals or subscription discounts.

The official site often includes free shipping and money-back guarantees.

Avoid purchasing from unauthorized sellers or third-party sites to prevent counterfeit risks.

Final Verdict: Is RetinaClear Worth It?

Absolutely. If you're seeking a reliable, natural solution to support your eye health and combat digital strain or early signs of vision decline, RetinaClear is a compelling choice.

Its well-researched formula, strong customer feedback, and lack of serious side effects make it one of the more promising supplements on the market today. Whether you’re someone dealing with daily screen fatigue or want to be proactive about your visual wellness, RetinaClear Supplement offers tangible benefits you can see—literally.

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FAQs About RetinaClear

Q1. Is RetinaClear safe for long-term use? Yes, it contains natural ingredients and is designed for continued daily use.

Q2. When can I expect results? Most users notice improvements within 2 to 4 weeks, with optimal results in 2–3 months.

Q3. Is RetinaClear FDA approved? As a dietary supplement, it is manufactured in FDA-registered facilities, but like all supplements, it's not directly FDA-approved.

Q4. Can I use RetinaClear with prescription glasses or contact lenses? Yes. RetinaClear supports eye health and does not interfere with corrective lenses.

Q5. Is it vegetarian/vegan friendly? Check the label on the official site for capsule materials, as this may vary by batch.

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