#how to make poppy seed tea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silenced-judgement · 1 month

Text

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜; 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜

・．⸻⸻˖⁺‧̟⭒₊☠︎︎🦋☠︎︎₊ ˖⁺‧̟⭒⸻⸻．・

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

Identified with Mors (Roman), and Letum (Roman)

Greek God/Personification of Non-Violent Death and mortality

Known Symbols: Inverted Torch, Sword, Theta (θ), Wreath, Wings

Plants and Trees: Poppy and Cypress

Animals: Butterflies

Stones/Crystals: Onyx, Obsidian, Black Tourmaline, Amethyst

Incense: Frankincense, Myrrh, Cypress

Colors: Black, Silver, White, Purple

Death 13 Tarot card

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙴𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚜

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

Paean "Healer"

Makar "Blessed one"

Leukokhrotos "White-skinned"

Acherontis "Woeful"

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

Son of Nyx, Night Incarnate

Grandson of Primordial Chaos

Twin Brother of Hypnos, Sleep Incarnate

Brother of The Moirai (Fates), Charon, The Keres, Nemesis

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

Common offerings include: Red wine, olive oil, water, honey, milk, fruit, poppy seeds, black tea, dark chocolate

Other than that, play around a bit with different types of offerings and figure out what he likes, I've only offered him dark chocolate which was also torture to myself since I enjoy it as well, but thankfully he was understanding that I mean no disrespect if I ended up eating it (which I did), though now I have two bags of dark chocolate I got for Easter just sitting in my room unopened.

・．⸻⸻˖⁺‧̟⭒₊☠︎︎🦋☠︎︎₊ ˖⁺‧̟⭒⸻⸻．・

The rest of this will be of my own personal experiences with interacting with Thanatos, everyone has their own experiences so yours is likely not going to be the same. I will also include some things I personally associate with him.

・．⸻⸻˖⁺‧̟⭒₊☠︎︎🦋☠︎︎₊ ˖⁺‧̟⭒⸻⸻．・

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

As soon as I had reached out to Thanatos through my Tarot he answered almost immediately, however as someone who had only done a reading once and correctly translated Hestia's message to a friend who was confused on what she was trying to say I am not good with any other Tarot spread as the friend had used a custom spread that was similar in layout to a Yes/No spread. The type of spread I use is the Yes/No spread, where you lay out five (5) cards with Major Arcana and even number Minor Arcana being for "yes" and the Suits and odd numbered Minor Arcana being "no". Personally I prefer this as it's easier for me to understand with my silly little Autistic brain.

The first thing I did after connecting with him through Tarot was actually ask him how he was doing, I don't know why I chose to ask him that, but I said "yes is for if you're doing good, and no is for if you aren't" and then placed out my cards. His answer to me was "No" with a hidden message within the cards in order to explain to me that something didn't go well that day and he was upset, to which I replied with an apology for the fact he was feeling upset and then I asked him if he'd like to just hangout and sit with me the rest of the day, his answer was a yes and as soon as he answered I began crying. I'm naturally sensitive to the presences of beings that aren't exactly within our plane of existence; such as ghosts, spirits, demons, and deities, it's just with everything else besides deities I get a shortness of breath but all presences give me that same sort of tingly feeling one might get when they look down from somewhere up high or are in an elevator and it's going up/down.

From that single interaction alone I've learned that Thanatos is a rather kind individual and enjoys interacting with others. I always thought he was more of a reserved and quiet individual as one may think Death to be, and while he is rather quiet he's far from reserved. The best way to explain him is someone who wants to be around others but can easily become a bit anxious if he feels as if he's making the person uncomfortable and depending on his mood he can become rather introverted. If you feel like he's possibly becoming anxious over something the first time interacting with you, especially if you're as sensitive as I am to the presence of other beings, the best thing to do is reassure him that it's alright and he doesn't have to limit his interactions with you. I had told him near the end of the day that from now on he can come and hangout whenever he wants without me getting his attention first, but he instantly became unsure and worried that he'd overwhelm me due to my sensitivity. Thankfully he calmed down after I explained to him that I'm not overwhelmed and explained my sensitivity to him.

I've only seen him twice in some dreams, the first time he had gotten lost in it (as my dreams are chaotic and I can't control them if they choose to shift to something else) after like 10-20 minutes into the dream, but from that first appearance, he chose to appear as a mix of how he really looks like and the design of the character Thanatos from the game Hades. Turns out, after asking him about it the next day, he had chosen to appear that way just to mess with me and to be funny. Second dream I remember nothing about other than the fact he was there looking normal. Third dream he wasn't there but at the end of it he did send some butterflies in order to say hello.

Normally, Thanatos doesn't need to try and reach out to me, he's done so once through a butterfly, a few days after our dog had passed away but that was just to say hi and for no other reason. I had also drawn the Death Tarot, which was reversed but there was no hidden message. He seems content enough to come and sit with me without me knowing or to watch over me, plus most the time I'm the one suddenly getting his attention by talking to him at random and he's fully aware that due to my Autism and ADHD I wont exactly go and grab my Tarot to talk to him and is content with just listening, dealing with me being extremely random, or, something he did yesterday (28th) and yesterday night (27th) was sit directly next to me on my bed and lean in extremely close just to stare at my laptop screen. I'm unsure if he was trying to comfort me after Hecate scared the fuck out of me with a spider because I was paranoid and refused to sleep at all even after coming to an agreement that no more spiders will be sent into my bedroom with Hecate.

Based on that interaction, I feel as if Thanatos can become rather protective over people he's taken a liking to, his presence itself being rather warm, comforting, sometimes it's enough to make me feel like crying because suddenly all my anxieties, everything is just gone and I feel as if I don't have to worry about anything. Sometimes I'm unsure if I'm smelling lavender or some other floral scent, or even chamomile, which sometimes makes me think he's literally gone and gotten into my teas. I believe at times he's also gone and woken up Hypnos some nights just in order to get me to sleep. While writing this, I've felt warmth against my ear, cheek, felt peaceful, I smell a familiar scent that smells floral of some sort, so another thing is that Thanatos also seems to be rather curious once he's gotten used to someone. Although, as I don't find many people talking about their interactions with him, and based on how he told me that no one had ever really offered to let him just hangout whenever he wants with them before, I have a feeling that a lot of this is actually Thanatos feeling as if he is free to just be himself and that he's in a safe place because when I interact with him I don't see him as Death itself or as a literal Greek God/Deity, instead I treat him as if he's just like anyone else, I don't reach out to him for advice or help, I reach out to him because I genuinely enjoy interacting with him and I'm one of those few people who aren't afraid of death or dying, at least, not the concept of dying, as I would never do anything that actually puts me at a risk of death out of fear of being forgotten and also because I want to enjoy life as much as I can before it comes naturally.

I've also had a natural affinity towards death and the concept of an afterlife and Gods of Death, so to me, Death is a friend and is my friend, which I believe is why Thanatos interacts differently with me.

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ⋯ 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

┊┊✧

┊✦

✧ .

Blue colored butterflies, specifically the Blue Morpho (for those who play Animal Crossing, it's the Emperor Butterfly, literally just learned it's actually called a Blue Morpho. Although the Ulysses Butterfly is also called an Emperor Butterfly or the Blue Emperor and is a swallowtail butterfly)

Red Spider Lilies (Japanese flowers associated with death)

That silly "guh-dong" sound that happens when you get a "Death Approaches" area in the game Hades.

White roses

・．⸻⸻˖⁺‧̟⭒₊☠︎︎🦋☠︎︎₊ ˖⁺‧̟⭒⸻⸻．・

#hellenic deities #deity work #greek gods #greek deity #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polythiest #hellenism #hellenic pagan #thanatos worship #thanatos devotee #silencedjudgement deity work

48 notes · View notes

lunavenefica · 2 years

Text

⛤KITCHEN MAGIC BASICS⛤

We’ve all heard about kitchen magic, but how does it work?

It’s pretty simple! Every herb and spice has a meaning and magical properties.

Kitchen witchcraft consists in the use of basic ingredients to make magical recipes!

Casting spells is cool and all but I think we’d all agree that enchanting your cookies is way better!

So how do I make a spell?

It’s easy! You enchant the ingredients and follow your recipe meditating through the process and visualizing your intent.

And then you eat what you made! Or you can share it with your friends, your loved ones, offer it to the Deities you’re worshiping or to the Earth; there are many possibilities!

There are also many herbs that can help improve your health and aid you in your spiritual journey!

⛤Some useful herbs:

Cayenne: boosts metabolism.

Cilantro (Coriander): Is a good source of iron and magnesium; it has been used for thousands of years as a digestive.

Cinnamon: can help lower cholesterol.

Cumin: Is loaded with antioxidants, iron, copper, calcium, potassium, manganese, selenium, zinc, magnesium and it also helps with insomnia.

Clove: Is an anti-fungal and alleviates toothache.

Ginger: Stimulates circulations and it is an excellent digestive, aiding in absorption of food and minimizing bloat.

Parsley: Is a nutrient-rich substance which acts as an anti-inflammatory and antispasmodic, helping conditions from colic to indigestion. Rub it on itchy skin for instant relief.

Thyme: Is a cure for hangovers and helps alleviate colds and bronchitis.

Turmeric: It boosts production of antioxidants and helps in the reduction of inflammation.

Sage: Very beneficial in treating gum and throat infections. Sage tea can help ease anxiety.

⛤This is just a short list with some basic correspondences:

⛤BANISHING

Black coffee with cinnamon

Chili pepper

Curry

Pepper

Water and lemon

⛤PROTECTION

Basil

Bay leaf

Beans

Blackberries

Blueberries

Coconut

Corn

Mint

Olives

Plums

Rosemary

Thyme

Tomatoes

⛤HEALING

Apple pie

Apples

Blackberries

Chamomile

Cucumber

Ginger tea

Honey and milk

Mint tea

Olives

Propoli

Pumpkin

Pomegranate

Potatoes

⛤LOVE

Apricots

Avocados

Blackberries

Cherries

Figs

Oranges

Peaches

Pears

Plums

Raspberries

Tomatoes

⛤LUCK

Bread with poppy seeds

Chamomile tea

Cinnamon Rolls

Oranges

Pineapples

⛤PEACE

Apricots

Lavender water

Vanilla ice cream

⛤PROSPERITY

Apple pie

Bananas

Bread

Chips

Curry

Grapes

Honey and milk

Peas

Pumpkin

Rice

Tomatoes

Please feel free to add to the list!

⛤Isidora & Bleiz ⛤

⛤Isidora ⛤

#witch tip #witches of tumblr #witch community #witchblr #witchythings #magic #nature #witchcraft

987 notes · View notes

ray-does-witchcraft · 8 months

Text

2024 Attic Calendar - January

Currently working on my own version of the adapted Attic calendar! So far I only have January, but February is almost done as well. Fair warning, this goes in depth about what the festivals/celebrations are and how to commemorate, so this post is gigantic. Attention: This is for the SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE!

⛧ [10/01/24] [Hekatombion 40th] - Hekate Deipnon

WHAT IS IT & WAYS TO CELEBRATE: It takes place at the end of the Lunar month. Hekate means "bringer of light", so at the darkest part of the month, we prepare our homes for the transition to a new month and offer her a meal. Think of it as a mini new year; clean/cleanse your house (especially altars), get rid of things you don't want to bring into next month (physical, spiritual, etc), and leave Hekate an offering at sundown (preferably a meal, but if you can't afford to waste food, just give her something else. Maybe bury or burn it if you can). Here's a list of good offerings (best left outside or at her altar, if you have one for her):

Bread

Cake (especially lit with candles)

Pomegranate

Wine

Honey

Cinnamon

Milk

Chocolate

Roses

Lavender

Poppy seeds

Dandelions

Incense (Frankincense, Lavender, Jasmine, Citrus, Dragons blood, Rosemary, or anything you have at hand)

Keys

Candles

Tea lights

Bones

Fire/Bonfire

Oil lamps

Crow/Raven/Own feathers

Poetry, Literature, Music, Hymns, etc

⛧ [11/01/24] [Metageitnion 1st] - Noumenia

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: The Noumenia is the first day of the visible New Moon and is held in honor of the household Gods. The Noumenia is a celebration of the start of a new Hellenic month and seeks blessings for the household. Honestly? You can just kick back and relax if you want or can, to invite calm energies into the upcoming month. But, if you (like me) want to be a little extra, here's some ways to celebrate:

Start a new personal project or hobby, or just pick back on things you've been putting off.

Set intentions for the coming month, and make plans for any of the month’s upcoming festivals, or for any of your personal upcoming plans.

Leave offerings for your deities.

Moon/stargaze, maybe meditate under the Moon.

Do a reading with your preferred divination method with the Theoi, asking what you should focus on in the coming month.

⛧ [12/01/24] [Metageitnion 2nd] - Agathos Daimon

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: One of my favorites! Daimons are household spirits that look after you and your family, so this is a day to honor Him! Pour a libation (especially wine, but mine likes milk better to be honest), make an offering, light a candle, maybe even make Him a lil altar! He's heavily associated with snakes, but aside from that you can offer (or put in His altar) anything you correlate with abundance, good luck, protection, etc. These guys are so overlooked and I love them. Here's a more in-depth post about Him and the holiday.

⛧ [13, 14, 16, 17, 18/01/24] [Metageitnion 3th, 4th, 6th, 7th & 8th] - Athena, Aphrodite/Hermes/Eros, Artemis, Apollo, Poseidon

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: Not exactly festivals, that's why I compiled them into one section, but these Lunar days are sacred to these deities in that order. Maybe leave them an offering or light them a candle, maybe even just devotional acts! Here's a good list of offerings for each:

ATHENA

Owl feathers/imagery

Pottery

Books

Toy weapons, athames, etc

Roses

Bread

Olive

Honey

Milk

Olive oil

Olive tree branches/leaves (real or not)

Clear crystals

Silver jewelry

Incense (Frankincense, Dragon's Blood, Cedarwood)

APHRODITE

Apples

Chocolate

Honey

Milk

Olive oil

Baked goods

Anything vanilla scented/flavored

Golden jewelry

Flowers (especially roses and anemones)

Sea stuff (sand, seashells, water, etc)

Perfume

Self care products

Rose quartz

Incense (Frankincense, Rose, Myrrh, Jasmine, Cinnamon, Vanilla, Cypress)

HERMES

Currency (real or not) (especially foreign)

Strawberries

Lemons

Dice

Playing cards

Travel tickets

Honey

Milk

Olive oil

Clovers

Cool rocks

Hematite

Incense (Frankincense, Myrrh, Safron, Dragon's Blood)

EROS

Honey cake

Chocolate

Fruit

Sweets (he likes candy a lot)

Milk

Honey

Olive oil

Rose quartz

Feathers

Flowers (real or not)

Heart-shaped objects

Arrows

Jewelry

Incense (Frankincense, Myrrh, Rose)

ARTEMIS

Animal related stuff (Imagery, bones, teeth, etc)

Moon related stuff

Moonstone

Clear quartz

Amethyst

Bows & Arrows

Leaves

Wild flowers

Acorns

Pine cones

Milk

Honey

Olive oil

Water

Silver jewelry

Incense (Frankincense, Cypress, anything woodsy)

APOLLO

Sun related stuff

Arts and crafts

Clear quartz

Citrine

Sunstone

Bows & arrows

Dandelions

Sunflowers

Poetry

Music

Honey

Milk

Olive oil

Water

Honeyed chamomile tea (he loves it)

Golden objects/jewelry

Divination items

Incense (Frankincense, Myrrh, Cypress, Clove, Cinnamon, Bay)

POSEIDON

Saltwater/Seawater

Seashells

Fish

Sand

Toy horses/horse imagery

Photos of the sea

Olive oil

Milk

Honey

Salt

Aquamarine

Sapphire

Incense (Frankincence, Myrrh, Pine)

⛧ [25-27/01/24] [Metageitnion 15-17th] - Eleusinia

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: The Eleusinia was a thanksgiving festival held to honor Demeter for the gift of grain. A modern way to celebrate is to have a big dinner (maybe include some breads and baking) and give thanks to Lady Demeter through it! Thank her for grain and the agricultural processes that we benefit from!

⛧ [28/01/24 ?] [Metageitnion 18th ?] - Adonia

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: A festival mourning the death of Adonis, one of Aphrodite's human lovers. Traditionally, it was celebrated only by women (as a trans guy, I personally don't give a fuck and celebrate it anyway). Also, there's no source for an exact date, so this is an educated guess at best (most sources just refers to it as taking place "midsummer"). For a way to celebrate, I found this amazing hymn/poem. Remember to honor Aphrodite on this day as well.

⛧ [30/01/24] [Metageitnion 20th] - Hera Telkhinia

WHAT IS IT & HOW TO CELEBRATE: A minor sacrifice for Hera, taking place in the suburbs of Athens. Again, not a lot of info, but if you worship or have a connection to her, maybe read her a hymn, pour a libation honor her on this day! Here's a Orphic hymn to her:

Hera, incense aromatic herbs and spices. You are seated in a cerulean cavern, having the form of air, Íra queen of all, happy one who shares the bed of Zefs, You provide gentle breezes which sustain the soul. Mother indeed of storms, attendant of the winds, all-begetting. Apart from you life and generation cannot be found; Mingled with the majestic air you partake of everything. You alone hold sovereignty, ruling over all. You are the stream which flutters down through the rushing winds. And now you, happy Goddess, many named, queen of all, Come with a countenance of kindness and joy.

66 notes · View notes

prosperdemeter2 · 9 months

Text

Teaser Tuesday - psychic!AU

“Okay,” Eddie rounded the top of the stairs, dropped his duffle in the corner and grabbed a paper cup to hand to Chimney. “We have your… weird thing.”

“It’s not weird,” Chimney stuck his nose in the air as he said it, taking off the plastic lid and immediately downing half the cup. “It’s a red velvet coffee.”

“It’s literally a mocha,” Eddie rolled his eyes but grabbed Bobby’s instead of pausing to get into the same argument with Chimney again. Chim liked playfully arguing and, aside from Hen who only did it sometimes, Eddie was the only one really willing to go along with it. “Cap, your chai tea.”

Bobby smiled and pat him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“Hen, your simple order of iced coffee,” Eddie passed it over with a grin.

“You’re an angel.” Hen blew him a kiss from where she was digging into the paper bag in search of her poppy seed bagel.

“And here’s yours.” He popped it right into Buck’s hand, trying not to flush at the tips of his ears at the way Buck beamed up at him. He leaned, for what was probably much too long in his space, forearms on the back of the couch and his eyes taking in the article about recent archeological findings Buck was reading. “Weren’t you reading that last night?” Eddie asked without thinking about the implications (what implications, really? The team already knew that they talked the most outside of their shifts. Bobby even called them on it, sometimes. What’s up with Buck? How late did you two stay up last night? Not that Eddie usually stayed up too late - Buck was the one with the habit of staying up all night long, Eddie was just typically the one he texted when he was having trouble.).

“That was a different article.” Buck shook his phone in emphasis. On the inside of his wrist was a crude sharpie drawing - Eddie knew Jee-Yun had done it the last time he had watched her. Buck had a habit of letting her color in his tattoos. Chim thought it was hilarious, Eddie thought it was probably one of the cutest things about him. “Did you know that archeologists are rethinking the majority of the shit they’ve found over the years and said belonged to men? Apparently, like, a huge percentage of warrior bodies they’ve found could have belonged to women.”

Eddie did know that, but only because Buck had texted him the same exact sentiment and phrasing at approximately two in the morning and Eddie had read it when he woke up. Granted, there had been a lot more typos and expletives but, well… that was just how they typed. “Wait,” Chimney said with a frown clear in his voice. “Why is there a whole cup of ice? Are you just going to chew ice, Eddie?”

He could but only because the way Buck always looked at him in horror was absolutely hilarious and adorable. “No.” Eddie snorted and straightened up.

The way Buck’s face lit up at the mention, though, was also adorable. He swung himself off the couch, shoved his phone low in his pocket, and sauntered forward, jerking the cup out of Chimney’s hand with a grin. “That’s mine.”

Chim scrunched his face at him. “Why do you want a cup of ice?” He watched, though, as Buck took off the top of the black coffee he had asked for, took off the cover of the ice, poured half of it in an empty cup, and tipped his hot coffee over the cubes. “W…” Chimney blinked.

“Buck,” Hen snickered. “Why not just get an iced coffee?”

“It waters it down.” Buck shrugged and Eddie, in an act of defiance (or, really, in an effort to see the way Buck’s nose would wrinkle up at the sight), grabbed one of the unused cubes and popped it into his mouth. He bit into it with a smile and… there it was. Buck’s nose wrinkled, his eyes widened, and he stopped, his own drink halfway to his mouth. “You’re insane.”

Maybe, or maybe he just liked to find little ways to make Buck smile. “I’m going to go change.” Eddie told the room at large, weaving between all of them to grab his bag and duck into the locker room.

“Would Eddie order a cup of ice if I asked him to?” Chimney wondered aloud. “Or is that just another special Buck perk?”

#teaser tuesday #psychic!au #i really have to come up with a title for this lmao

17 notes · View notes

thimbledoll · 1 year

Text

The Central Dolltelligence Agency

A ticking noise erupts from the TV overlaid with a news broadcaster's voice:

"The CDA or Central Dolltelligence Agency (that's doll intelligence), is a highly secretive organization of dolls the world over working together toward what they say is the safety of dollkind.

But is that really true? We've managed to score a rare and unique look into this clandestine institution. Together, we'll unlock the secrets of the CDA. This doll is Marigold Caster — and this — is 60 Seconds."

tick tick tick tick tick

The image cuts to a doll sitting at a computer, headphones covering her ears. Her face is completely rigid and Still as she listens intently to the recording, her quill scribbling erratically on a piece of parchment. Bolting from her chair, she runs toward a corner office.

Handing the ream of parchment to the doll to whom the office belongs, the two share a moment of silence while the latter doll reads.

"We've finally got the doll-of-a-witch," it proclaims with great significance. "Rose's secret Sunday tea blend is secret no more."

-----------------------------

Elsewhere a doll types diligently at the machine in front of her. A satellite image can be seen on the screen zooming in further and further until it's so magnified that she could make out how many poppy seeds are on the bagel you're eating. She pans the image, searching.

At last, her target in her sights, she frantically grabs at a mic in front of her. All at once speakers everywhere erupt in an inter-office comm as she cries out, "We've got a live one! 54.5960°N, 5.9538°W! It's got to be the fluffiest squirrel doll has ever seen!"

-----------------------------

A doll runs through the office, panicked, shouting, "Code Lavender! Code Lavender!"

Dolls everywhere abandon their desks to run after the crying doll. It's clearly an all hands on deck situation. Even the doll in the corner office joins in, walking briskly where others stampede.

They eventually all congregate in what must be the Situation Room. It's jam-packed from corner to corner. Everydoll wears an anxious, distraught expression, eagerly awaiting the briefing. At the head of the conference table, the corner office doll calls for attention.

"You've all heard the news. It's true. We have a genuine Code Lavender. This one just confirmed it itself." One doll breaks into tears. The corner office doll ignores them and continues. "Marjoram's witch is on the way home and he's baked out of his core on Five Hour Stillness. There's zero chance he'll be able to complete the list of chores assigned to him before the witch's return."

Several dolls faint. Others begin running around, hands in the air, their frenzied shouts of awawawa filling the room. The corner office doll declares, "Dispatch Doll Force One."

The anchor's image returns as she reports, "This doll believes she speaks for everydoll when she says we're in good hands. This doll is Marigold Caster — and this — was 60 Seconds."

The show ends with the signature *tick tick tick* of the clockwork caster's chronometer.

End 🧵

(Old story reposted from Twitter)

#empty spaces #dollposting #microfiction #fantasy #fiction #dolltwt #my writing

32 notes · View notes

wizardichor · 2 years

Text

Offerings to Thanatos

This is by no means an exhaustive list! These are just (some) examples of what offerings I've found to be well received by Thanatos through working with him. Some of these may be UPG.

Plants and Herbs: Calla Lilly, Lily-of-the-Valley, Water Lily, Anemone, Chamomile, Chrysanthemum, Heather, Oleander, Willow, Poppy, Tuberose, Valerian, Wisteria, Crepe Myrtle, Carnation, Holly, Calendula, Mint, Mulberry, Parsley, Thyme, Dragon's Blood, Oregano, Elder, Cypress, Deadnettle.

Food and Drink: Pomegranate (juice, seeds, etc.), Blood Orange, Black Coffee (or tea), Red Wine, Chocolate, Beet Juice

Crystals and Gemstones: Smoky Quartz, Obsidian (black, snowflake, gold sheen), Onyx, Tourmaline, Black Kyanite, Hematite, Scolecite, Bloodstone, Plumite, Jet.

Activities: Lighting Incense, Cleaning (ethically sourced) Bones, Pinning (ethically sourced) Insects, Transitioning, Making Healthy Changes, Reading/Researching Thanatos, Reading/Researching Funerary Rites and Learning How Other Cultures Honor Their Dead, Cleaning Up Graveyards, Death Meditation, Creating and/or Listening to a Themed Playlist (mine is here).

Animals: Butterflies and Moths (if you are pinning dead bugs please ethically source them!), Ethically sourced bones of any kind, Ethically Sourced Feathers (especially dark colored ones), Cicadas and other winged insects (again, cannot stress this enough, please ethically source your dead animals), Replicas and Art of Bones and Butterflies/Moths also work if you don't want actual dead things in your home!

Miscellaneous: Black or Dark Purple Candles, Leather or Earthy Scented Candles, Dead/Dried Plants, Black Silks and Lace, Music.

Most Importantly remember that Thanatos watches over gentle, peaceful death. Anything done with violence, hate, or negativity will dishonor him and may seriously offend him.

#thanatos #offerings #deity offerings #witchblr #witchcraft #death witchcraft #wizardichor #death witch

170 notes · View notes

sleepless-in-southlands · 9 months

Text

Simple Seeds and Complicated Code

Ao3

Summary: So, turns out, Luke might have brought a few things with him when he was transported to Hermitcraft without realizing. Oops. Luckily though, no one seems too worried about it except for Luke. Or is that unluckily? And why is farming so easy here? Content: Fluff with a small side of hurt/comfort; potions, pranks, code weirdness, luke's gripes with minecraft farming Ship: Lucky Jumbo (Mumbo Jumbo/Luke Carder) Note: Xisuma uses he/him and voi/voix pronouns interchangeably. Part six of Lucky Jumbo

“It was just… poppies and water? And that turned into a drink?”

“They were dried poppies, if that explains anything.”

“Why would that explain anything?”

“You live in a very weird world, babe, I wouldn’t put anything past it.”

Mumbo chuckled at that, the sound audible to Luke despite the fact it was half lost against his stomach. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Grian had left, distracted in his own thoughts of what had happened and what he would do if his legs started to fall asleep, Mumbo not yet having been awake for very long.

Not that Mumbo was willing to change that fact much, content to remain lying tucked close to Luke’s side. Even awake, he still seemed drained, and Luke figured more rest wouldn’t hurt him. Plus, original circumstances leading to it aside, the situation was… nice. Luke was equally content to remain as they were.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The poppy tea incident? I mean, I thought it was fine-”

“No, not the tea. We can figure that out later.” Mumbo replied, although as he hid more of his face against Luke’s side the harder it became to hear him. “I meant… about today.”

“Oh.” Luke looked down at the top of Mumbo’s head, frowning slightly. “Do you?”

“I asked first.”

“Well, I only want to if you do. So, do you?”

The lack of an actual response from Mumbo was all the answer Luke needed. He gave him another moment to say something before slowly running his fingers through Mumbo’s hair. “It’s okay, Mumbo. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Mumbo sighed before turning his head again, looking up at Luke as he spoke much more audibly, “I think we have to at some point.”

“That ‘point’ can be later.” Luke shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve told you much about my past either, and you’ve known about it being… weird… for a while now.”

“You don’t have to tell me about anything you don’t want to.”

“And neither do you. Not right away, at least.”

Mumbo didn’t seem entirely satisfied by the conclusion Luke reached, likely still feeling that he should explain himself right then and there, but he conceded to his logic. “Alright, then. I do want to talk about the poppy tea. You put nothing in it but poppies?”

“You know the potion-stew accident was a one time mistake, right?” Luke joked. “Yes, I promise, it was only water and the flowers.”

“It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe all it was was that I was tired and the tea was soothing?”

“Mayb-”

“But, no, that doesn’t make much sense.” Mumbo interrupted Luke, following his own train of thought. Luke didn’t mind. “Luke, you should drink the tea.”

“What?!”

“I’m a rather poor subject for any new potion testing at the moment.” Mumbo explained, as if he hadn’t done much wilder things running on much less sleep or (in Luke’s opinion) sanity. “You, however, are plenty enough awake. If you fall asleep after drinking it too, we’ll know it’s truly a new type of potion! Or, perhaps, a new way to make weakness.”

“What if it’s just a very calming tea?”

“We can test that next.” Mumbo assured him, as if Luke was worried about such an outcome. He then went through the effort of leaning over Luke to fetch the no-longer-warm tea from the bedside table, offering the cup to him even though Luke could have much more easily gotten it himself. “It’s not like you couldn’t do with some more sleep.”

“I sleep more here than I ever have.” Luke argued. Ever since he had learned what a phantom was, he had been extremely diligent to make sure he was in bed nearly every night.

He accepted the teacup from Mumbo despite his protest, though. The curiosity of the poppy tea incident was obviously keeping his attention from the other events of the day, and Luke was happy to assist in such matters. Plus, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit interested in what, exactly, was going on- for once, he wasn’t the only one confused by the odd rules of Hermitcraft!

Luke took a sip of the tea. It was sweet, as Mumbo had said, nearly cloying. Even after swallowing it, Luke could still feel it on his tongue, the taste strong and toeing the edge of overwhelming.

After a moment, and a second drink, the sensation began to dissolve into something almost fuzzy. The quiet comfort of the room and atmosphere was nothing compared to what Luke began to feel, a gentle sort of exhaustion settling over him so heavily he didn’t have a chance to even think of fighting it before he was being dragged down with it, grip on his cup loosening as his eyelids slid shut.

He was asleep in seconds.

“It’s definitely a potion.”

“Oh, certainly.” Mumbo didn’t look up from where he was pouring the last of Luke’s bucket of sleepy-time-knockout-potion into a glass bottle, several already filled ones sitting beside it. “Good morning.”

“I’m starting to think you didn’t really need a second test subject.” Luke made no comment on the fact it was dark outside, the very opposite of morning. He wasn’t entirely sure how phantoms worked in regards to daytime naps, but he could worry about fixing his sleep schedule later.

Mumbo finished transferring the pink-ish liquid, moustache-smiling very charmingly yet completely unapologetically as he moved his attention away from the bottles. “Well, I did need to make sure it didn’t only work on me.”

Luke did his very best to look suspicious of Mumbo despite the fact he was both still a bit tired and, unfortunately, easily convinced to go along with whatever he was doing. “Ominous of you.”

“I just think it would be rather rude of us to keep this new potion of yours all to ourselves. Sharing is the polite thing to do.”

“Are you going to tell the people you’re planning on ‘sharing’ it with what it is?”

“I think a surprise would be much more pleasant, don’t you?”

Luke laughed as he crossed into the kitchen area of his house, making use of Mumbo’s shoulder as a good place to rest his weary-ish head. “And who, exactly, are we planning on ‘surprising’?”

“I’ll tell you that once you tell me how you actually made the surprise.” Mumbo answered roundaboutly, content to let Luke lean against him.

“Hot water and dried poppies. It’s not that complicated.”

“Except I did try that. Many times.” Mumbo turned his head in the direction of the furnace-oven, Luke following his perch to find a bucket of water warming on top of it with several piles of red petals sitting on the nearest table. “Whole, chopped, crushed, dry, fresh- nothing mixes into that lovely red colour you managed, and the only thing that’s made me tired is the effort. There must be a step you’re not telling me.”

Luke frowned, reluctantly stepping away from Mumbo so he could approach the stove. A glance in the bucket revealed it devoid of any poppies at that moment, the stick Luke had used to stir his batch propped against its internal edge. “There… there isn’t another step. I just-”

Without looking at the options, Luke grabbed a handful of some of the poppies from Mumbo’s piles, crushing them slightly in hand before adding them to the water. Mumbo came to stand next to him as he used the stick to stir them in, repeating his motions from when he had first made the tea. And exactly like the first time, the poppy petals mixed into the water and dissolved, leaving him with sweet smelling potion.

“See? That’s all.” Luke said as he looked over at Mumbo, who was doing an incredible impression of someone who had seen an actual magic trick performed. “Nothing to it.”

“Nothing to it?” Mumbo repeated incredulously, and Luke briefly wondered if that was how he looked when questioning the logic of throwing eyes to teleport and punching trees to collect wood. “Not only have you discovered an entirely new potion, you may be the only one who can brew it!”

“Is that… a thing? Potions that only certain people can create?”

Mumbo leaned his head closer towards the bucket, taking a whiff of the now-potion with his lack of a nose. “Not that I’ve ever heard of. This’ll be a first. Was- was it a thing in your old server?”

Luke idly stirred the stick another time as he tried to decide if potion making was more similar to cooking or making medicine. “Well, uh, usually to do this you’d need skills and tools and stuff. But anyone can do it.” He glanced at Mumbo. “That doesn’t matter though, does it? Servers don’t bleed over like that, right?”

“They shouldn’t. You know what else shouldn’t happen?” Mumbo tapped the bucket on the stove meaningfully. “At least, not in this server.”

Luke squinted. “What are- what do you mean?”

“Nothing bad! Nothing bad. I’m only suggesting that maybe… you somehow brought over a bit of your server’s rules with you. A little, tiny bit of them.”

“That sounds like it could be bad.”

“I doubt it would be. But I’ll ask Xisuma to check it out. In a few days.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “In a few days?”

“It’d be a right shame we didn’t get a chance to actually surprise voi with the potion first, don’t you think?”

“Mumbo-”

Mumbo put his hands up in mock surrender, the look in his eyes making it clear his intentions hadn’t changed one bit despite Luke’s failed attempt at sounding disapproving of the prank. “You know how Xisuma is, voi needs a rest more than I do. Really, I’d be doing voi and the server a favour! And I owe Exil X one, I know he’d appreciate it.”

“You don’t owe Evil X.” “I might!”

“I’d know if you did.”

“Fine, I don’t.” Mumbo folded, dropping his hands, still looking amused. “But I could at some point! And my earlier points stand!”

Luke chuckled. “Alright, alright. We’ll prank-”

“Help.”

“-helpfully prank Xisuma before asking voi to look into the existence of said helpful prank.” Luke amended playfully. “But if this ends up going the same way as the pumpkin and melon circle, I can and will place all blame for it solely on you.”

Mumbo’s expression became one of faux indignation. “You said you thought the circle was incredible.”

“And I still do!” Luke ducked in to kiss Mumbo’s cheek, ignoring his (unconvincing) pout. “However, I also think that no one else in the server agrees with me, and that I don’t want to be outcasted for crashing the server.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be outcasted . Made fun of, yes. Never allowed to forget it, sure. Scorned for weeks, perhaps-”

Luke rolled his eyes lightheartedly as Mumbo went on, turning to rifle through the kitchen for more glass bottles. “You’ve made your point.”

“I wanted to make it twice.” Mumbo joked, but he stopped with the spiel as Luke found what he was rummaging for and lined the bottles up next to the bucket. He began pouring the potion out, aim surprisingly good given the respective sizes of the containers. “So, who should we surprise first?”

“We’re not starting with Xisuma?”

“We’ll work our way up to him. A grand finale.”

Luke leaned back against the counter, humming in thought. “Well, our fellow Boatem co-workers are close and would probably appreciate the prank, although Grian might see it coming.”

“We could always disguise it.” Mumbo shot a glance at Luke that suggested he would be grinning if he had the mouth to do so. “Bring it to the next Boatem dinner mixed in some rabbit stew, perhaps?”

“Hasn’t that dish wounded my culinary pride enough already?”

“It’s different when you add the potion on purpose, Scar’ll tell you that.”

“You can’t trust half the stuff Scar cooks, he’s not a good frame of reference.”

Mumbo set the now empty bucket down, letting Luke cork the filled bottles and put them aside with the rest. “What would be your suggestion, then?”

The pink potions- that Luke would eventually have to name himself, he supposed- sloshed around in their bottles as Luke moved them. He watched the motion for a moment before turning back towards Mumbo. “I think we should generously gift our competitors a free sample of Boatem’s newest ware.”

Mumbo’s eyes lit up. “Octagon and Big Eyes Crew?”

“Who else?” Luke tapped the side of one of the potion bottles, sending small ripples through the liquid. “If we doctor them to look like, uh, normal potions, we could pretend they’re ‘special’ versions of them.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Wonderful!” Mumbo stepped over to Luke, grabbing his hands and holding them tight. “Do you know what this means, Luke?”

“We need dyes?”

“You are no longer simply a member of Boatem. You are now an official employee of Boatem incorporated!” Mumbo used his grip on Luke’s hands to start pulling him towards the house’s front door, excited. “We have to tell the others!”

“It’s the middle of the night, no one’s going to be up-”

“It’s Boatem , they’re all going to be up!”

“Good point.” Luke conceded with a laugh, allowing Mumbo to pull him out into the night. Some worry still niggled in the back of his mind regarding the existence of his seemingly unheard of sleeping potion, and even further back remained his worry from the day’s earlier events, but as Mumbo got the attention of the rest of Boatem (all of whom were indeed awake and working), Luke let himself get caught up in the excitement of the prank instead. Mumbo was happy, after all. As long as that was true, everything was fine.

It only took Boatem about a week to reach the ‘grand finale’ of the sleeping potion prank, and less than a day for the grand finale’s victim to confront them about it. Luke had been in the middle of very importantly glaring at dirt, overkill netherite hoe in hand, when Xisuma approached him.

“Has the ground offended you in some way?”

“No more than usual.” Luke answered with a sigh, turning towards the admin. “I don’t understand farming here.”

Xisuma tilted his head, his helmet’s gills bobbing with the motion. “It’s pretty simple. You hit the ground with your hoe and drop some seeds. Easy stuff.”

“Too easy.” Luke argued, stopping himself from going on a longer tangent about the untrustworthy nature of crops that were so easy to plant and grow when he saw the glass bottle in Xisuma’s hand. A few drops of pink-dyed-dark-red potion remained at the bottom of it. Luke grinned. “But I’m going to guess you’re not here to talk about farming.”

“Not exactly.” Xisuma agreed, slightly shaking the mostly empty bottle. “I believe Boatem may have provided me with a faulty, er, ‘strength’ potion.”

“Well you have come to the right person! I’ve recently been promoted from ‘member of Boatem’ to the head of quality assurance for the company.” Luke planted the head of his hoe on the ground, resting his chin on the propped up end of the handle. “How may I assure you of the quality of our products today?”

Through the slim gap in his visor, Luke could see Xisuma roll his eyes in amused exasperation. “Your strength potion made me fall asleep.”

“That doesn’t sound like a Boatem strength potion. No, our strength potions are quality, make you feel stronger than- uh- an iron golem.” Luke said as seriously as he could manage. “Did you perhaps purchase a different type of potion?”

“This was gifted to me, actually.” Xisuma glanced at the bottle. “Or at least, it was presented as a gift.”

“And you’re certain it was a gift from Boatem and not, perhaps, one of our competitors? None of them have quality assurance teams, these sorts of things can slip through the cracks.”

“It was hand delivered by Mumbo.” Xisuma pointed out, pausing before adding, “Is that why I’ve had comments from Doc, Tango, and Keralis about potion mishaps?”

Luke did his best to look innocent. “Because they don’t have heads of quality assurance? Yes, that would be their issue.”

“And you’re sure it’s not Boatem’s head of quality assurance that’s the cause?”

Luke’s best was apparently not very good. “Please, Xisuma, we’re professionals here. We wouldn’t tamper with our competitors’ supplies or mislead them.”

“Now you’re just lying to me.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“What’s happening here?” Both Luke and Xisuma turned in the direction of the new voice, finding Mumbo pushing a shulker into his pocket as he approached them. Luke saw the moment he noticed the bottle in Xisuma’s hand and answered his own question. “Enjoying your gift, Xisuma?”

“Not quite sure I’d call it a gift.” Xisuma tossed the glass bottle at Mumbo, who managed to catch it after it bounced between his hands a few times. “Something tells me that if I had taken that mid-fight, I would have lost.”

“I’ve been trying to assure Xisuma of our products’ quality, but for some reason he seems suspicious.”

Xisuma crossed his arms. “I passed out in the middle of the day, midway through preparations to clear out a fortress. That doesn’t just happen.”

“Even if you were really tired?”

“Nope.”

“Luke, I don’t think our customer feels very assured about the quality of his product.”

“You can say that again.” Luke agreed with a sigh, straightening up and swinging his hoe over his shoulder. “But in my defense, the issue seems to be with his trust in the company as a whole, and not a failure on the head of quality assurance’s part.”

“I know Boatem- and my hermits- too well.” Xisuma said, reminding Luke very strongly of a long-suffering babysitter. “What was it really? A triple dose of weakness?”

“About that…” Mumbo glanced towards Luke.

Luke took the obvious opening. “We’ve been calling it a potion of rest. I made it by accident while trying to make poppy tea.”

“He’s the only one who can make it. Everyone in Boatem’s given it a try to test it, but Luke’s the only one who can actually mix it into a potion.” Mumbo added. “We’re not sure what it is, but we think it might have to do with Luke’s old server.”

Xisuma’s expression shifted into one of confusion. He reached towards Mumbo, taking back the nearly empty bottle of the dyed potion and taking a closer look at it. “Potion of rest? As in, its effect is making you fall asleep?”

“Seems that way. I know there are some mod packs that have that sort of thing in them, but-”

“None of Hermitcraft’s do.” Xisuma finished for Mumbo. He looked towards Luke. “Is this something you had in your old server?”

Luke shrugged a bit helplessly. “Kind of? Poppies were used in a lot of types of soothing products, and we definitely had sleep potions, but it’s not really supposed to be as simple as mixing hot water and poppy petals.”

“Your server does seem to have a knack for complicating things.” Xisuma tapped the ground with his foot. “Seeing as you thought farming here was ‘too easy.’”

“Crops shouldn’t grow so fast- Off topic.” Luke shook his head, ignoring the bemused looks Xisuma and Mumbo were exchanging. “Do you have any ideas why this is happening? Or what’s causing it?”

“There’s a couple of possibilities.” Xisuma answered, and Luke watched the blue shine of code pop up in the admin’s visor as he spoke. “Most likely it’s just a minor code cling from your old server, in which case it’ll be pretty easy to clear off.”

Luke and Mumbo waited quietly as Xisuma worked, visor flickering as he did. The thought of the sleeping potion pranks being done so soon was a bit disappointing, but Luke was relieved that the issue sounded relatively simple. He didn’t think he’d ever fully understand exactly how ‘servers’ functioned, but he knew enough to know that irregular code wasn’t good. Especially if that code had come from his old very-much-not-a-server world.

Past the blue, Luke noticed Xisuma’s eyes narrow at whatever he was looking at. Luke quickly reverted back to not feeling relieved at all.

“Luke, the server you were in before this one was your home server, right?”

“Well it was where my home was, so… yes?”

“Home server means your very first server.” Mumbo clarified. “The one where you were born or created, and typically the one where your family or group lives.”

“Oh! Yes, the last server was my home server. And only server, before this one.” Luke amended, smiling at Mumbo in thanks before focusing his attention back on Xisuma. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong necessarily, just… odd.”

Luke updated his mental status to extremely not relieved. “What’s odd, then?”

“In admin view, player code is organized into relevant sections. Physical attributes, statistics, that sort of thing.” Xisuma started, making a motion with his hand that didn’t add anything to the explanation other than pizzazz. “One section is a log that tracks all the past servers a player has visited, including their home server.”

“And… what does it say about mine?”

“That’s the thing. It doesn’t say anything about it. Your server log has logged no servers, aside from Hermitcraft.”

Luke blinked once, twice. “That sounds bad, Xisuma.”

“Not bad, odd.” Xisuma corrected, although Luke didn’t feel entirely reassured. “Not all information logs correctly, and hardcore worlds have the highest chances for data loss. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

“Might explain how you ended up here, too. No home server for the respawn mechanics to work off of.” Mumbo pointed out, glancing towards Luke as he did so.

Luke looked away, avoiding Mumbo’s eyes. “Maybe. Still doesn’t seem good. And we still don’t know what’s going on with me and the poppies.”

“Actually, that’s the other thing-”

“There’s another thing?”

“-I suppose you’re not aware that you have some carry-overs?”

“Explain what a carry-over is and then I’ll answer that.”

Again, Mumbo helpfully jumped in. “They’re similar to mods, but they link to specific players, not servers. They accommodate for players having different requirements than a vanilla server might account for. Like, er,” Mumbo hesitated for a moment as he thought of an example, “Jevin! Jevin has carry-overs that adjust for him being a non-hostile slime.”

“Does that mean your moustache is a carry-over?”

“I don’t think I like what you’re implying.”

“Teasing! I’m teasing.” Luke briefly raised a hand in mock surrender before dropping it. “I think I get the idea. But, uh, I’m not really seeing how making sleeping potions could be a ‘player requirement.’ I hardly need the skill to survive.”

“It is peculiar.” Xisuma admitted. “It’s not your only carry-over either. You have rather a lot here.”

“I- I do?” Luke looked at his hands, as if they would start suddenly glowing with the power of his newly discovered pile of carry-overs. “What are they?”

“Not sure. I can’t read them.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke watched Mumbo’s moustache frown. “Player code is a universal language.”

“Tell that to Luke’s home server.” Xisuma quipped with a slight shrug. “Some of the language is familiar- I can see ‘poppies’, for one- but most of it is nonsense to me.”

“Do you think you’d be able to understand it, Luke?”

Luke shook his head at Mumbo’s question. “I didn’t really work with code. Even if I had, I really don’t know if what I count as ‘code’ is the same thing to you guys.”

“Trial and error it is, then.” The blue in Xisuma’s vision faded as he closed out of Luke’s player data. “Whenever you find out about anything else like the potion of rest, before you start pranking people with it, let me know about it, and I’ll make a note of it in your logs in code I can actually read.”

“Wait, but- is that safe? Just ‘wait and see?’” Luke glanced between Xisuma and Mumbo. “What if one of my mystery carry-overs conflicts with the- I don’t know- the server’s code? And crashes everything? Or glitches the- the moon?!”

Xisuma put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “You’ve been here for a while, Luke, and this is the first time any carry-over effect has popped up. I doubt you’re carrying any break-the-server code on you, and even if you were, there’s nothing you can do on accident that would be worse than some of what your boyfriend’s done on purpose.”

“Hey!”

“The point being: the server will be fine, the moon will be fine, you will be fine. And if something goes wrong, I’ll fix it.” Xisuma patted Luke’s shoulder reassuringly before pulling back. “And speaking of fixing things, I’ve got at least two other fires that need to be put out, and a fortress that still needs to be cleared, so unless there’s anything else…?”

Luke took a slightly forceful breath before he shook his head, waving Xisuma off. “No, that’s all. Good luck with the fortress.”

“And if you want more than luck on your side, Boatem has some very lovely strength potions for sale. All natural, no dyes, no tricks!”

Xisuma laughed, tossing Mumbo the remnants of his gifted ‘strength’ potion as he stepped away, pulling fireworks out of his inventory in lieu of the bottle. “I think I’ll brew my own this time. See you!”

Luke waved goodbye until Xisuma was more a spec on the horizon than a person. His hand then dropped to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed. If Xisuma said everything would be fine, then it probably would be, but the thought of so many unknown ‘player requirements’ being connected to him without him even knowing about it didn’t sit right with him. The poppy tea was neutral as far as Luke was concerned, but what if there were bad attachments? What if he could get salmonella here? And Mumbo had been so close to convincing him to try their version of cake…

While Luke contemplated the many diseases he was still possibly vulnerable to, Mumbo shuffled closer to his side, nudging his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll make the next sale.”

Luke snorted. “I don’t think Xisuma’s ever going to trust a Boatem strength potion ever again.”

“Oh, don’t let anyone hear you say that. Bad look for Boatem’s head of quality assurance.”

“Let me rephrase: Xisuma is never going to enjoy another one of Boatem’s fabulous, completely genuine, extremely quality strength potions ever again.”

“Much better.” Mumbo leaned lightly against Luke, tilting his face more towards him. “Xisuma’s been an admin for a long time. He knows what he’s talking about.”

“It sounds like Xisuma’s not seen any of this before, though. What if something happens that he doesn’t know how to deal with? Something he can’t fix?”

“Luke, love, you’re on Hermitcraft. All we do is invent new ways to break everything.” Mumbo’s eyes and moustache were equally soft as Luke shifted his head slightly to better look at him. “If one of your nonsense-code carry-overs ever does manage to crash the server, you’ll get a pat on the back from every one of the hermits while we wait for Xisuma to get it back up and running.”

“I thought you were shunned for the pumpkin and melon circle?”

“That’s because I had crashed the server enough times before to know better. But the first time’s a rite of passage.”

Despite himself, Luke laughed. “When will the hermits stop surprising me?”

“Soon as your tales of your old server stop surprising us, I’d wager.” Mumbo joked. “And speaking of things from your server and surprises-”

“Please, I only just learned what a carry-over even is five minutes ago. No more experimenting with them until at least tomorrow. For now, I want to do something simple.”

“Such as… farming?”

“Something simple that’s meant to be simple.” Luke clarified, separating from Mumbo so that he could let his hoe fall off his shoulder, opting to glare at it. “Do you really not find it suspicious at all how everything grows so quickly and perfectly without any attention?”

Chuckling, Mumbo pulled his own hoe out of one of his suit pockets, putting the potion bottle away as he did so. “It’s all very average here. It’s not like it’s all perfect. You need to make sure you have water, sunlight. And there’s always a chance for rotten potatoes.”

“But you never have to worry about too much water or too much sunlight! Or fertilizer, or weeding, or pruning! And you can get rotten potatoes, but not rotten carrots, or wheat, or seeds! All you do is hit the ground, drop some seeds, and call it good for two days before you reap your rewards!” Luke slumped, using his hoe as a crutch and ignoring Mumbo’s obvious amusement at his grievances. “Even Planter’s Sun made you wait a few weeks to collect your crops, and that was only after daily maintenance and upkeep.”

“None of that made any sense to me.” Mumbo swung his hoe at the ground, the single tap to the earth somehow causing a square with three tilled lines to form. “But if you want, you can try to explain it to me while I help you actually start planting some seeds.”

“It’s going to take a while to get through everything, you know.”

“I know. I don’t mind.” Mumbo said sweetly as he moved on to the next square of dirt, beginning to make a line of dry, tilled earth. “Besides, you never know what could turn out to be a carry-over! It might be important that I know what a, uh, planted sun is!”

Luke couldn’t help but smile. Alright, so maybe his code was fucked. Maybe he had a million terrible ‘carry-overs’ nestled into the same space his potion of rest skill was living. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and find the entire server turned upside down because, oops! guess who had just introduced the plague to Hermitcraft. Maybe farming would now always be fast and easy and terrible. His current situation was hardly what most would call ‘ideal.’

But with Xisuma’s reassurances in the back of his mind, and Mumbo’s light teasing in front of him, Luke couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than very, very lucky.

“Alright, then. Let’s start with pruning.”

#lucky jumbo #luke carder #mumbo jumbo #xisuma #hermitcraft #inscryption #m.y funky words #hello everyone . i hath returned #hope u enjoy this tomfoolery

11 notes · View notes

mouthoftheocean · 3 months

Note

Jean Harlow: Do you have a garden? If so, what kind of plants do you have?

Humphrey Bogart: Do you travel a lot? Where have you been?

Myrna Loy: Do you like going to parties?

Spencer Tracy: What time do you wake up?

Jean: My garden is shared, and predates me (no, not that way.) The largest trees are over 40 years old; an Agonis Flexuosa and Pōhutukawa dominate the north and south sides of the house, respectively, both are in excess of 15 meters tall. In the backyard, an equally freakishly large variegated Pittosporum continues to challenge them for supremacy. A flowering eucalyptus grows on our nature strip, and together with the Agonis, and a teetering Virgilia, make seasonal threats against our overhead powerline. Closer to the ground, I have made attempts to introduce more Australian plants despite the reputation of our local soil being complete trash (spoiler: it is, our suburban block was quite literally built on a historic landfill.) The survivors, to date, include Callistemon, several varieties of Correa and Leptospermum (honorable mention to the coastal teatree* to which I have a not insignificant emotional attachment that will no doubt end in bitter disappointment), Kangaroo Paw (they’re alive but screaming for help), Banksia (alive but refusing to thrive), Eucalyptus ‘Baby Blue’ (he’s adopted), Thryptomene, Hardenbergia, and Acacia. Plants that have been here for longer than I’ve been alive include Fuschias, Pelargoniums, and an ocean self-seeding Cinerarias. My father planted a Diosma in the early 90’s that he has dotingly hedged ever since, it’s now as tall as I am, but I remember jumping over it with my sister when it, and we, were much, much smaller. Back then, we also had an enormous cherry plum tree growing on our eastern boundary – shading our driveway, and the neighbours’. Summer would arrive, the fruit would fall, and with every passing car a chorus of popping plums would foreshadow the looming familial task of scraping half-fermented plum slurry off the concrete. On the upside, our local blackbirds were very happy, and so were the Hydrangeas growing in the shade of the plum tree. And because you didn’t ask for an essay, I’ll make a list of the rest: Roses (17 at last count); Buddleja; Elderflower, Convulvulus ‘Silver Bush’; Salvia; Borage; Violets; Statice, Jasmine; Rosemary; Sunflowers; Gladioli; Petunia; Viola; Jade, Zygo Cactus, Catmint, Seaside Daisy, a dream of red Poppies (waiting to discover if the seeds are still viable), Grape Hyacinth, Foxglove, Snowdrops, and Bluebells (despite my best efforts at wholesale murder.) Humphrey: Not a lot. Internationally, I’ve been to Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and England - first in 2005 (there was a brief weekend in Paris, as well), and then again in 2015. In 2010 I visited New Mexico. It was my first time traveling alone, abroad, to meet and stay with people I’d met on the internet. Accordingly, I have a vivid recollection of my sister giving me instruction on how to brutally incapacitate someone as I was packing to leave for the city to catch my plane. While my friend will tell you she still has the bruise, I can at least attest that she wasn’t trying to take me to a second location when I gave it to her… affectionately – but you know this story already. Locally, I’ve been to South Australia, New South Wales, and the Northern Territory… but in the grand scheme, I’ve seen very little of Australia. Living where I do, in a little damp corner of Victoria, the rest of the country intimidates me like the promise of third-degree burns. Myrna: Categorically get away from me if people are coming that I don’t know. I can enjoy myself, or I can make small talk with strangers… I can’t do both. Smaller scale, close friends/family is fine… but anything too peopled and I’m liable to be person-not-appearing-at-this-soiree. Spencer: Any random-ass time between 1 and 4am, and ostensibly for no reason.

*the coastal tea tree's final form. Mine is still only 8 inches tall.

#Oh no #you did the thing #you asked about the garden #counting teeth | answered asks

2 notes · View notes

brightgnosis · 1 year

Text

Planted the new Lupine and Poppy today, and sat in the garden enjoying it for a bit; got to hear a bunch of Blue Jays- plus saw my little male Cardinal friend again, and got to watch one of the Vultures (probably Turkey) circle overhead for a little bit.

Also talked with my Husband about how I'm actually really glad that we were able to build me the new garden space last year. Not just because I get to finally have my own space at the house (even though I caught my Mother In Law coming out of my Garden today while she was "making the rounds" 😤). But also so that he can have the Breezeway for himself now that he's getting into Gardening as well (or most of it, anyways; my two Lilly pots are still over there).

It's always so lovely to just sit out there with him on the weekends, though. And it's been wonderful to see him enjoying Gardening, and picking out his own plants, and exploring what he does and doesn't like- as well as learning how to care for things (and failing at it a lot; it reminds me of when I first started out).

It's just ... Pleasant.

Oh! We're officially in the 3 day window for the Average Last Frost for our area, now, too. So by next weekend we should be able to bring the Tropical Hibiscus outside finally and get her some sun (the poor thing got broken by someone in the house last week and has absolutely been having a rough time since; she needs it and a few healthy doses of fertilizer) --- as well as getting the rest of the seeds in the ground while I still wait on my last order of plants to ship (being very impatient about waiting on that shipping notice right now). So I'm very excited about that. Because that means getting the rest of the Basils and what-not planted.

Next weekend is also the Garden Council's big plant sale at the Botanical Garden- which is where I got my Rue last year, and my Orange Balm. And I'm hoping they have some interesting stuff again this year ... So guess who's probably going to be buying even more plants it doesn't have room for again next weekend before the seeds go in.

And the Periwinkle is starting to bloom now. Which means I need to start foraging Periwinkle for Walpurgisnacht at the end of the month 😈 And I need to make a new Tea blend for Maifest the day after; it's starting to get busy again!

11 notes · View notes

sidewalkchemistry · 2 years

Text

Papaya and Its Seeds

The best way to eat a papaya is by the spoonful with a few of its seeds. Yes, you CAN eat papaya seeds. Why would you eat them? Not only do they taste good, but here are a few health claims I have read about the papaya seed.

Antioxidants that help fight free radicals.

Enzymes that help keep the gut healthy.

Fiber and healthy fats which help with weight management.

How do they Taste?

I personally love the taste of the papaya seeds, but, that being said, I am also one of those people that dusts liberally most meals with freshly ground black pepper. The seeds offer this slightly bitter peppery taste akin, some say, to horseradish, while the crunch adds mouth appeal that contrasts the buttery flesh. It kind of reminds me of how you eat the slightly bitter rind of soft Brie cheese to bring out the buttery sweet notes of the Brie. However, I must disclaim, try them moderately at first. I have also read that in high volumes papaya seeds could cause stomach upset, but then again, eating a carton of ice cream does the same;)

Here are a few ways you can use papaya seeds up:

Stir one or two teaspoons in your morning yogurt, granola or smoothie.

Dehydrate or dry them up, then grind them to make a spice which taste like pepper or horseradish. Rinse first then dry lightly in a clean tea towel. Use a dehydrator or an oven at its lowest setting until seeds are completely dried through.

Add dried ground seeds to your favorite baking recipe, like carrot muffins or a poppy and papaya seed loaf.

Add fresh papaya seeds to a salad dressing...

#good eats #nutrition #holistic healing #holistic health #herbalism #papaya seeds #vegan #raw vegan #vegetarian #whole food plant based #nutritarian #zero waste #tropical fruit #fitblr #true nourishment #solarpunk #gastronomy

21 notes · View notes

pearlsephoni · 9 months

Text

At the End of the Sun, Ch 26: Confrontation

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: Chapter: M; Whole Work: E

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata); Iwaoi (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tooru Oikawa, Tobio Kageyama, Yuutaro Kindaichi, Akira Kunimi

Word Count: Chapter: 4k; Whole Work: 160k

Summary: Shoyo demands explanations for Oikawa's trickery, and gets more than he asked for.

A/N: Originally published on AO3 on August 12th, and beta'd by @/r0mantic-era. Special thanks to @/celestialshell2 for making sure this chapter wasn't too cringe-fail in its drama 😩🙏🏾 C/W for descriptions of off-screen/past animal death and attempts at resurrection, descriptions of blood. Further author's note can be found on AO3.

☾

“You’re drugging him.”

Oikawa didn’t look surprised by Shoyo’s appearance so much as the style of his entrance. “Ah. Good morning, samurai-chan. To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“You’re drugging Tobio,” Shoyo repeated. After two days of kneeling in the same place, Shoyo half-expected to feel divots in the shape of his knees as he lowered himself to the tatami mats, keeping his chin lifted and his eyes fixed on Oikawa. “Why? You’re the one who said I can’t do anything about the curse. What does it matter if we speak to each other?”

Oikawa didn’t answer for a moment, simply sat and stared at Shoyo. Then, suddenly, he sang, “Kindaichi-kun~”

Shoyo didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know the young man flinched. “Y-Yes, Oikawa-san?”

“Did you get lost on the way out? Why am I looking at him again so soon?”

“I’m sorry!” Kindaichi’s voice shook with shame and embarrassment, making Shoyo cringe with guilt. “He just…ran away from me when we passed by here. I couldn’t stop him before he was already in here.”

“Ugh…you’re a flighty little thing, aren’t you?” Oikawa sneered at Shoyo before looking back to Kindaichi. “Would you go ask Watacchi about getting a lock on those doors? It seems that will be a good idea, after all.”

Kindaichi hesitated for just a moment before squeaking, “Yes, sir!” and hurrying away. Suddenly Shoyo was left alone with Oikawa and the two silent guards shadowing the throne. He shifted on his knees, drawing Oikawa’s attention back to him.

“Well, then. Where were we, samurai-chan?”

“You’re drugging Tobio. Why?”

“Ah, yes. That again. I thought I already told you—”

“I know you’re drugging him!” Shoyo interrupted, refusing to be convinced out of what he knew. “I could taste the poppy seeds! You’re not supposed to use enough to taste them in a pain relief tea. You only use that much for a sedative.”

Oikawa raised a single, graceful, dangerous eyebrow. “Is that so? And how exactly do you know what our prince’s tea tastes like?”

Heat rushed to Shoyo’s cheeks, but he raised his chin and held Oikawa’s eye contact, refusing to feel embarrassed. “I kissed him. The tea was still on his lips.”

“Mm…a bit shameless, aren’t we?”

“I’m not shameless! I just…missed him. Why won’t you answer my question?”

“Question?” Oikawa let his lips poke out in a picture of false innocence. “It sounded an awful lot like an accusation, not a question.” Shoyo stayed silent and continued to glower at him. A slow, humorless smile curved across Oikawa’s face and left his eyes untouched.

“You remind me a bit of myself, you know.” His smile broadened when Shoyo blinked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I recognize your desperation. Your willingness to go so far just for the chance to see your lost love again, even to the end of the sun. I went through the same thing after Iwa…” His breath caught. Six years, and he still couldn’t seem to bring himself to plainly speak about Iwaizumi’s death. “I even started looking into dark magic. That was the only way I could find anything on reviving the…the dead.

“It took years, but I did eventually find a way. Of course it was complex, required ingredients and rituals and specific alignments of the stars, but I didn’t conduct it on him. I had to make sure it would work.” He idly traced the embroidery that adorned his kyosoku, his fingertips gliding over the silken armrest. “There’s only one of him; I couldn’t risk any mistakes. So on the planned day, I killed a rabbit and set about bringing it back.”

His fingers suddenly clenched on the armrest. “I could feel the life returning to its body, but I could also feel the magic consuming me. I didn’t care. I’d live a partial life if it meant having Iwa back. My hands felt warm with life while my chest went cold with the dark magic. And it hurt. It hurt like nothing I’d felt before. I still pushed, because I could feel it working, I could feel the warmth running into the rabbit’s body.” His fingers stretched out, as though thawing with the warmth he described.

“I don’t know how long it took, but it eventually ended. I checked the rabbit, and…it had worked. Technically. I could feel its heart beating; it was breathing, it was warm. But that was it. It wouldn’t move, and when I opened its eyes, they were unfocused. Dead, even. All that work, all that hope, gone. Nothing more than ash. Well, and this.”

There, in front of his throne, his guards, and Shoyo, Oikawa removed his obi and loosened his kimono until it fell open to bare his chest. Shoyo took a single glance and sucked in a breath.

His skin was creamy and smooth, unblemished apart from the dark spiderweb threads creeping across his chest and converging right over where his heart rested. He looked like a broken vase, cracked open and badly repaired. The jagged lines strangely complemented the harsh tilt of his smile. “This is all I have from my second chance. Years of work, all for this.”

“I…I’m sorry—”

“I’m not finished,” Oikawa snapped. “Yes, Shoyo Hinata, I know the desperation you’re feeling. I felt it for years. But unlike me, you’re succeeding. Less than a year of toil, and here you are, with everything you wanted within your grasp, while I’m left with this ugly scar on my chest and demons crawling around my island.” He sat down and leaned forward, letting his kimono flutter around his legs in an airy way that couldn’t have been more different from his hard glare. “Now, you tell me, little samurai. You keep speaking about fairness. Where’s the fairness in that, hm?”

“It…it’s not,” Shoyo admitted, voice low. “It’s not fair, not to you or…or anyone. But…two wrongs don’t make a right. Cheating and punishing Tobio won’t undo anything that happened to you, Oikawa-sama. You’re just making things worse for yourself and everyone else on this island and…and…” Saying that name would be dangerous, especially in front of Oikawa.

Something flashed in Oikawa’s eye, making Shoyo’s tremulous nerves quail. “And who?”

“Just… give me one more night,” Shoyo diverted, “please. I’ll…I’ll give you anything you want, if you’ll let me see him while he’s awake, please, please let me speak to him.”

Interest and annoyance made a dangerous combination on Oikawa’s face. “I’m getting tired of your…dramatics, little samurai,” he said lowly, as though he hadn’t just revealed his own attempt to bring back the dead. “But fine. I still sense some of my magic on you. Give me whatever else you’re holding on to that’s mine, and you’ll see your prince.”

“Not just see,” Shoyo insisted. “Let me hear and speak to him, too.”

“That’s a terribly nice bow,” Oikawa remarked, ignoring Shoyo’s demand. “Fit for the nobility, even.” The words were flippant, matching Oikawa’s feigned apathy. But the longer he eyed the bow, his apathy shifted into realization. “Is that the prince’s bow?” He dragged his eyes from the bow to Shoyo, anger descending over him like a storm cloud. “Is that…is that the bow that killed Hajime?”

Shoyo stayed silent, this time from fear and the knowledge that any lies he tried to tell would be futile. That was all the answer Oikawa needed. “Give that to me.”

“And then I’ll see—?”

“You walked into my home with the weapon that killed the love of my life,” he said slowly, deliberately, with a sense of quiet that was far more terrifying than if he’d shouted with all the fury radiating off of him. “If you ever want to see that bastard again, alive, then you will give me that bow. Now. Before I change my mind about letting either of you live.”

Shoyo was silent as he unslung the bow from around his body and set it on the tatami mats. His hand shook around the bamboo, a cocktail of anger and fear pumping through him. There was not a doubt in his mind that Oikawa would see that threat through.

He knew that the best thing to do would be to stand up and hand the bow over directly to Oikawa, but he wasn’t sure he could trust his legs to hold his weight. Yes, annoyance framed the anger lining every inch of Oikawa’s body. That didn’t mean he was worth Shoyo pushing his own body’s limits just to avoid—

“Shoyo?!”

The sound of his name gasped in that voice made Shoyo’s heart leap to his throat and twinged his neck from how quickly he whipped around.

There, standing dumbfounded in the entrance of the throne room with a terrifying, panicked stranger in his shadow, was—“Tobio!”

It seemed to happen in an instant: Shoyo leapt to his feet, and Tobio lunged towards him. But before Shoyo could reach for him, chains burst from the floor and latched around his wrists, forcing his hands down and keeping him from moving.

Oikawa was on his feet, and a single “Mad Dog—!” made the glowering stranger catch Tobio and drag him back to the door. Tobio thrashed against him, shoving at his arms and trying to dig his heels in, and the whole time, he was screaming, “Let me go! Shoyo! Shoyo— please, let me go, Kyotani-san, please, Shoyo! Shoyo, don’t go, wait for me—!”

“Tobio!” Shoyo screamed back. He pulled against the chains, even as they shortened and forced him back to the ground. He didn’t care about his bruised knees hitting the floor, didn’t care about the sting of the metal cuffs cutting into his wrists. All that mattered was the sight of the man he loved, real and in front of him and just out of reach. That, more than anything, sank Shoyo into desperation, kicking at the floor and fighting the chains. “Tobio, you can’t sleep! You have to stay awake, please, I’ll come for you—!”

The screens to the throne room slammed shut, fully blocking him from Tobio. The injustice of their separation; the fury of getting so close; the frustration of laying out the signs of his arrival at night and still failing to get to him; the desperation to touch him, hold him, look at him tore through Shoyo. He was tired of Oikawa’s machinations, his skillful manipulation of words to keep Shoyo one step too far from what he wanted. He had endured weeks, months in the wild, slept through storms and winds, dueled a kitsune, stayed with a goddess and her husband, befriended a siren, and survived a magical storm, and this man—this pretty, frightening man—was single-handedly more effective at thwarting Shoyo than everything else.

Nothing else had worked. So he let instinct take over, let it burn through every thread of control he’d somehow managed to hold onto. He was like an animal, fighting against his cuffs with no thought spared for the now-searing pain at his wrists and the warmth dripping down his arms. “You bastard!” he screamed at Oikawa. “Let me go, you said I could see him, you liar, you sneak, you drugged him, I know you did, it’s not fair, let me go—!”

“Fair?” Oikawa snarled. He had collapsed back onto his cushion once the doors had shut behind Tobio, but now he pushed himself to his feet again and stalked towards Shoyo. Some distant part of Shoyo’s mind pricked at him with fear, but it was quickly overpowered by his wrath. “Again with ‘fair.’ I gave him his terms and he failed them. That should have been it. I could have easily had you thrown out the moment you stepped into my home. I would have even been within my rights to send you back into that storm. But no, I welcomed you in, accepted your deal, let you see Tobio, as we agreed.”

He crouched in front of Shoyo, keeping his silk robes from dragging through the droplets of blood dripping from the cuffs. “You want to know what’s not fair, little samurai?” he hissed, grasping Shoyo’s jaw in a firm grip and forcing him to hold still and meet his eyes. There was anger in that brown gaze, yes, but also grief. Maybe guilt might have crept through Shoyo, if single-minded rage hadn’t overtaken him. “I spent my whole life hiding who I am and being accepted by only one person. We ran away together, hid together, built this place together. He was tough and blunt and even mean sometimes, and he was the best person in the world, and he loved me. And all of that, everything he was, the life we’d built together, was gone in an instant, because of one spoiled brat. Tell me, does that sound fair?”

“It was an accident,” Shoyo growled, trying and failing to jerk his face out of Oikawa’s grip. “Tobio’s not a murderer, he would never kill a person on purpose! He saw a wolf! How was he supposed to know it was Iwaizumi-san?”

“Don’t you ever,” Oikawa hissed, leaning in until his breath beaded on Shoyo’s burning face, “speak his name.”

With that, Oikawa thrust Shoyo’s face away from him, snatched up the bow, and glided back to the dais, his anger nowhere to be seen in his elegant movements.

“We still have a deal.”

Oikawa froze, before slowly turning and pinning Shoyo under a sharp gaze. “What?”

“We made a deal,” Shoyo said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “One more night, in exchange for the bow.”

Fury burned bright in Oikawa’s pretty eyes. “You dare—”

“I do.” Shoyo raised his chin, forcing himself to meet his gaze. “One more night.”

Oikawa glared for another breath, before spitting, “Fine. Talk to your prince. It won’t change anything. He still won’t take a step off of this island. As long as this curse remains unbroken, he is tied to me.”

Desperate rage stung in Shoyo’s veins, a venom that he struggled to keep from spreading as the shackles finally fell from his wrists. He didn’t care what Oikawa said—he would get Tobio out of here if it was the last thing he did. For now, he forced himself to focus on the fact that he would finally, finally look into Tobio’s eyes that night. Surely he wouldn’t drink the tea now that he knew Shoyo was at the castle. Surely he would at least puzzle that out.

The flow of blood at his wrists had slowed, though some of it had dried on the cuffs and made their removal pang with fresh injury when they fell away. Shoyo held his hands up to make the blood flow away from his wrists as he rose to his feet, but they still throbbed and leaked sluggishly, and he had to be careful not to slip in the puddles of blood at his feet. He’d have to use his mother’s ointment on the wounds and ask Iwaizumi to wrap them after he washed them. Hopefully the river spirit wouldn’t mind—

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Shoyo flinched, before slowly turning to look at Oikawa. The sorcerer leaned against his kyosoku in what looked like a leisurely sprawl, but that Shoyo knew was an exhausted slump. Despite that, his narrowed eyes still made Shoyo struggle to keep his voice steady. “Back to my camp.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not letting you run off and scheme an escape for Tobio. Kindaichi-chan, take him to a room again.”

Kindaichi jolted and hurried to step forward from where he stood behind Shoyo. “Y-yes, Oikawa-san.”

“My wrists need to be—”

“You’re a healer’s son,” Oikawa interrupted, eyes cold. “Use what your mother taught you and heal.” With that, he pushed himself to his feet and disappeared through an entrance behind the dais, leaving Shoyo and Kindaichi blinking at each other.

“Um…follow me, please.”

The walk to his room—his glorified cage, his mind supplied—was familiar to Shoyo, but it felt so much longer when he had to be mindful of not dripping blood through the halls. He ignored the sidelong glances Kindaichi kept stealing, until they reached the room and Kindaichi murmured, “I’ll bring some water.”

When he returned with the usual bucket of water, he wasn’t alone. “If Oikawa-san finds out about this, I’m blaming you,” said a new voice, sounding an awful lot like Hanamaki when he’d said the same to Matsukawa.

Shoyo looked up to see a new young man following Kindaichi into the room like a shadow. He was the slightest bit shorter than Kindaichi, with straight, dark hair parting in the middle to frame his face like curtains. His eyes were heavy-lidded, as though he were tired or bored, but there was still a sharpness to them that didn’t let any details escape their notice. “So you’re who everyone’s talking about.”

“Um…I guess so, yeah.” Shoyo rose to his knees and dipped into a bow. “My name is Shoyo Hinata. Are you the healer?”

“Oh, great. My reputation precedes me,” he sighed. “I’m Kunimi. What’s wrong with your wrists?”

“Spirits, man,” Kindaichi hissed. “What happened to your bedside manner?”

“I don’t see a bed.” Kunimi knelt in front of Shoyo and took his wrists in gentle hands that belied his flat voice. “Wow. You did some good damage.”

“Ah…thank you?”

“Not a compliment. Being so rough in handcuffs is pretty stupid. Could I have a wet rag?” he asked Kindaichi. He only looked back at Shoyo when he started soaking and dabbing away the dried blood. “You’re lucky they weren’t rusted. That would be a bitch to clean.”

“Yeah…thank you for helping me clean them.”

“Just doing my job.”

He carefully held both of Shoyo’s wrists, letting his fingertips brush the raw edges of the wounds while his eyes fluttered close. Before Shoyo could ask what he was doing, a gentle, warm glow began emanating from his fingertips, spreading along his wounds until they shone. An intense itch prickled beneath the glow, and when the light eventually eased away, Shoyo was stunned to see that healthy scabs had formed over the wounds, something that shouldn’t have happened for at least another couple of days. He’d known, from Kindaichi, that Kunimi had healing powers, but he still wasn’t prepared to truly see them at work.

Kunimi didn’t seem all that inclined to conversation, keeping his eyes away from Shoyo’s as he set about smearing some ointment over the scabs and began wrapping bandages around them. Shoyo would have been fine with letting him work in silence, if something hadn’t occurred to him. “If you’re the healer…have you been making Tobio’s tea?”

His careful fingers paused for the briefest moment, but Shoyo’s sharp senses still caught it. “...Yeah,” Kunimi admitted, keeping his eyes fixed on Shoyo’s wrists.

“Then…you’ve been giving him the sleeping draught, too?”

“Ah. How’d you figure that out?”

“I could taste the poppy seeds.”

That finally brought Kunimi’s eyes up to Shoyo’s. “Not bad. I didn’t know samurai get trained in healing.”

“Only a little. My mom taught me the rest.”

“A healer’s son?”

Shoyo nodded.

“Huh. That explains how you wrapped that so well,” Kunimi remarked, nodding at the bandages covering the healing wolf bite.

“Why did you do it?” Shoyo asked, ignoring the compliment. “Why would you knock him out if he just needed pain relief?”

“I usually don't. That was a special request from Oikawa-san.”

Shoyo had suspected as much, but that didn’t keep him from feeling suffocated with anger. “Did…did he tell you why?” he bit out, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

Kunimi didn’t respond at all to Shoyo’s anger, his answer coming as flat as ever. “Nope. He didn’t need to. I figured it had something to do with your visits.”

“And you just followed his orders without questioning them?”

“They weren’t orders,” Kunimi shot back, his voice finally sharpening with some of the edge in his eyes. “He just asked me to, and I agreed to do it. No offense, but I have no stake in any of this. I came here after Iwaizumi-san’s death. If Oikawa-san thinks I can do something to help ease his grief, then I won’t question it.”

In just a few minutes, Shoyo already had the sense that Kunimi wasn’t much of a talker, and that his long response was very out of the ordinary for him. Even Kindaichi was gaping at him. “Right. Sorry,” Shoyo murmured, abashed. “Then…if I ask you to leave the poppy seeds out for tonight…”

“Can’t. Oikawa might double check the tea after all your dramatics today,” Kunimi sniffed, only to grunt at Kindaichi’s nudge. “But…I can try to warn Kageyama. Maybe. No promises.”

“Thank you, Kunimi-san!” Shoyo cried.

“Gross, don’t call me ‘-san.’” Kunimi’s wrinkled nose relaxed as the tiniest curve tugged at his lips. “But you’re welcome, I guess.”

He smoothed down the ends of the bandages around Shoyo’s wrists, surprising him with how quickly he’d finished cleaning and dressing the wounds. “There. You should be all set. Try not to, like…I dunno, just don’t do anything too intense with your hands. Common sense.”

“Right! Of course!”

Kunimi’s eyes narrowed at Shoyo’s overeager agreement, but he didn’t respond beyond a shrug and standing up. “Do you need anything else?”

Shoyo shook his head, and that was all Kunimi needed as permission to leave. “Good luck with…everything. Don’t do anything else that you’d need my help with.”

He looked at Kindaichi and jerked his head towards the open screens. By the time Kindaichi got to his feet, Kunimi was already walking down the hallway. “Shoot, uh…I’ll come get you later!” Kindaichi reminded Shoyo before hastily shutting and locking the screens.

It was almost startling, how suddenly Shoyo was alone again, with only the sound of hurried footsteps keeping him company. Both men’s departures meant Shoyo couldn’t distract himself from the alternating sting and ache of his wrists. The pain was radiating through his body with every heartbeat, until it settled into every nerve and bone and radiated from him like a glow.

Maybe Tobio would have some pain relief tea leftover. The thought brought a smile to his face despite his pained grimace. Too bad he wasn’t planning on getting much sleep that night, because Tobio would finally be awake, and they would need the rest of the night to make up for lost time.

He held onto that wish as he curled up on the tatami floor and slowly, fitfully fell asleep.

☾

For the first time in his three nights at the castle, fear hung over Shoyo on the walk to Tobio’s room. His mouth was dry and tacky like it was stuffed with cloth, keeping him from making small conversation with Kindaichi, and he could see the other man sneaking worried glances at him from the corner of his eye.

Shoyo didn’t care, couldn’t care. He was too preoccupied with the terrible possibility of Tobio somehow not realizing the tea was putting him to sleep and drinking it again. If he still couldn’t figure everything out after seeing Shoyo in the throne room and hearing him say to “stay awake” that night, then Shoyo really didn’t know what he would do. There was a chance Kindaichi would be willing to help more than he already was, but how many days of convincing and nudging would that take? Just the thought of it exhausted Shoyo.

“Um…we’re here,” Kindaichi quietly announced, pulling Shoyo out of his spiraling thoughts. “I guess I don’t need to remind you about anything.”

“No…no, thank you.”

“Alright, then…see you in the morning.”

Shoyo waited for the click of the lock and Kindaichi’s fading footsteps down the hall before he turned to the familiar lump in the futon. “Tobio?”

Nothing.

“Tobio, are you awake?”

Silence.

Dread washed cold over Shoyo, rising higher and higher with each step until he felt like he was drowning from it by the time he knelt at the futon.

Tobio was…he was asleep again.

4 notes · View notes