#the trees here are so beautiful! the leaves are a brilliant and translucent green!

[pentanguine]

I have gone on a brisk morning walk and acquired a scone!

[cela-astral-projection]

Purple clover, Queen Anne lace. Crimson hair across your face. You could make me cry if you don't know. Can't remember what I was thinkin' of. You might be spoilin' me too much, love.  You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

It had been weeks. A month. Longer. If Muriel didn't know Asra better, he would be concerned. Asra was nothing if not leisurely in his pursuits under the best of circumstances. But Celeste was getting a bit worried. She had never been subject to Asra's whims and flights of fancy.

It was the early evening. The sun was still warming the forest, but Muriel knew he was running out of time before the dark.

Muriel had taken it upon himself to be the guardian of the forest — a routine task most days. And Celeste had come with him since she had been at the hut. It was nice to walk together in the early mornings and late afternoons, enjoying each other's company.

Celeste had been unsettled most of the day. And they both knew that something had changed. He had asked for her to stay inside, anticipating resistance. But she had complied.

She was afraid. And it instilled fear into him.

Nothing truly seemed amiss, at least not that he could pinpoint. Perhaps something on the air. The way that the light shone through the trees. If anything, the world around him seemed more peaceful. More alive.

He questioned himself. What was this paranoia? What was this feeling of dread that had seated itself in both of them, destroying their tranquility?

He knelt by a stream, bending down to splash cold water on his face, trying to steady his nerves before he headed back to the hut. But, in the rippling of the water, he saw a reflection on the other side, shimmering. The world dimming around him.

He rose slowly and was confronted by a hooded figure in a pale grey robe. Their face was obscured, but he could see a long salt and pepper beard spilling out. They held a lantern in one hand, and a long, gnarled staff in the other.

He knew this Figure. His patron.

"The Magician's Pledge is coming." The Figure spoke, it's voice placid. "Your reprieve is at an end, Muriel. I pray that it shall be enough to sustain you."

He stared, confused. "Reprive?"

"From the terms of your deal. It has been generous. I think you will agree."

"I didn't ask for a reprieve. Asra brought her to me." he countered as if his denial mattered.

The Hermit inclined its head. He could see the shape of their mouth, the corners upturned. "You did not need to ask. These things fall into place for a reason. You needed her, and the Magician and I made sure that you were supplied, and that the Magician's Pledge was given respite. Enough that you can continue and fulfill the terms of your compact with the Arcana."

"You can change this. You can free me. Free Celeste. You can heal her." he pleaded. "I don't want this. I don't want to go back to being alone."

"I know. It is a heavy burden to carry alone. You were informed of this before the deals were struck. The best is bought at the cost of great pain. And life restored..." the Figure breathed a heavy sigh.

"Please, I have had the pain. I have had more than enough sadness. My whole life has been one misery after another...the solitude was meant to be a blessing, was it not?" Muriel said, his voice rising, frantic.

"Dear Boy, if it were not for your pain, I would not have trusted you with this deal." the voice responded, calm as ever. Unfazed by his increasing panic. "You are well acquainted with hurt and loss. You are practiced in grief. I know you can survive this just a while longer. There is a great blessing on the other side of this endeavor."

"What happens if I refuse? What happens if she stays with me?" he implored, resisting the inevitable.

"Then she is reclaimed by Death. Her body falls away to bone and ash. The Magician's Pledge is also taken. His heart is contained within her Vessel, they will not be parted by Death again."

Muriel drew a ragged breath. Celeste and Asra. Lost to him. Taken by Death.

The Hermit resumed. "And that is simply the immediate effect. There will be grief in it. But, understand me, it will be nothing for the misery to come.  There are more significant, much more far-reaching implications."

"I don't understand," Muriel said, defeated. "I can't understand this. Of course, she's worth it, to me. But...why does it have to be this way? What aren't you telling us? What are we paying for?"

"It is foolish to believe that I, alone, set the price for this deal.  The winds have already begun to shift, Muriel. These days feel long, but the years will be shorter now. You will be broken by this. That was the goal. So that you would be weakened, and brought low."

The voice changed, and it sounded almost sympathetic.

"I wish you to know that if it were up to many of us, the balance would lean much more heavily in your favor. But...sadly, there is a precarious balance. Twenty-one Major Arcana. All of us with our players, playing the ends against the middle. There is a certain matter of inexactitude, knowing how things will ebb and flow." The Hermit lamented. "I would not ask this of you if I did not truly believe that you were worthy of the challenge."

"I'm not," Muriel said, his head falling, his voice breaking. "I'm not worthy. I can't do this. I don't know how to do this. I don't want to do this."

The Figure floated across the stream, and Muriel stepped back, not wanting to be near to them, far out of their grasp.

"Do you know what it means, Dear Boy, to be The Hermit?" the voice implored. "You are inhabiting the reverse right now. You have been in this for years. Your longing for seclusion, though, entirely understandable, has cost you dearly. It is a perilous path you are traversing. But, even until now, you have not been alone. You might have felt alone. But you had your friend. Your lover. And he brought you a beautiful woman. And they have loved you fiercely when you could not love yourself. And still, you were turned inward, keeping them at a distance. Afraid."

"Not now. I'm not alone now. I'm better with Celeste. With Asra. This is how I'm supposed to be." Muriel objected, shaking his head.

The Figure nodded in agreement. "You are better. Remember that. You are made better by love. You will have loneliness thrust upon you. And what you do with this time will guide you going forward. That's what it means to be The Hermit."

The Figure extended their lantern to Muriel, dangling it on the finger of one large hand.

"It will be dark. But, you will have enough light to see the next step ahead. The path you take...it can lead to great introspection. Alignment with who you are meant to be. Or, you can continue the way you have been. Into true seclusion and madness. And I assure you, influenced by pain, the sirens call into the abyss is very tempting."

The Figure withdrew their lantern. They lifted the hand to his hood and pulled it back.

Muriel stared into their eyes. His green eyes. His face. His scars were there, but they were faded. And there were wrinkles. Marked by age. The Hermit looked regal. His hair plaited back, streaked with silver. A long beard framing his jaw. The appearance of one well acquainted with their inner voice. Someone that had found their destination. A mentor. A guide. Muriel's face reflected back at him.

"I have seen your ends, Muriel. And I have hope for you. I don't think you'll fail me." The Hermit smiled. "There are better days beyond this darkness. I assure you."

Muriel was entranced. Unable to move, barely able to breathe.

The Hermit laughed. "You age well. It suits you. I could have taken my more traditional form, but I thought this might be an inspiration." He lifted the hood again, and the face was obscured.

He continued, "I will take my leave from you. The Magician has nearly finished with your friend. He will be here soon.  Please, go home. Say your goodbyes. You'll have to take the charm from Celeste. She can't keep it."

"Celeste won't understand," Muriel replied, shaken from his reverie when he was confronted with the reality. "She knows she has to keep that to remember me. It will break her heart."

The Figure scoffed. "That Woman is more resilient than you give her credit for.  And so are you."  He was moving away from Muriel and disappating. Becoming more translucent. "The days will be long, but the years will be short. Stay the path. There is an end to this darkness. I promise you."

And then The Hermit was gone. The light was restored to the forest. The sun was setting, and there was a brilliant orange glow cast around him, flowing through the trees.

--

Celeste had made dinner, picked up the hut. Magicked the furs on the bed clean for what felt like the thousandth time since she had arrived, so terribly abused in the wake of their lovemaking. Now, she was just worried and bored. She sat on the side of the bed, alternating between watching the door and casting spells on the plates to keep them warm.

When Muriel came in, she rose to greet him, but he was across the room before she could even take a step. He had her face in his hands, bending down to catch her mouth, pressing soft kisses against her lips. His eyes were closed. Celeste was pleased but caught off guard. She brought her arms to his neck, drawing him in more firmly against her. He smoothed his hands down her neck, her chest, to her hips.

Celeste pulled back a bit, breaking free of his lips, studying his face. "What...what's wrong?" she asked, seeing how his expression was fallen. All false passion. Sadness radiating off of him.

He didn't answer, but he held her hips, his hands moving at her side subtly, fidgeting. She tried to pull away, and he released her, his hands forming fists at his sides.

"What happened?" she asked, looking him over, searching him for signs of injury. "Muriel?" She pressed, but he would not meet her gaze.

"Please...just..." he started, trying to find words. To compose himself.

In his hand, he had the tiny satchel of myrrh. Stolen from her skirt pocket. It felt like it burned in his fist.

"Celeste, I need you to kiss me. Just...I need you for a few minutes. Please?" he said, opening his eyes. He swallowed his tears, trying to remain composed, not wanting to give himself away.

"Muriel..." she said, confused. He never needed to ask her before. She was free to him, to kiss, to touch.

She heard the door open again behind Muriel. And she stepped to his side. Muriel tense, not turning.

Asra.

"Oh," she said, staring.

Asra said nothing, his eyes downcast.

"Oh, no," she said, putting the pieces together. Her hand moved to her side, and she found the pocket emptied. The memory charm gone.

They all stood silent for a moment, unsure how to move forward.

"I don't want to forget," Celeste said, finally. "Please...we can stay here. Asra. Please. Master, Please." she implored, frantic, feeling tears welling in her eyes.

Muriel, pained by the tone of her voice, turned to sweep her into his arms, and Asra was across the room as quickly, catching her. They were tangled together, trying to comfort her, explain themselves, words falling on her like rain.

None of it made sense. Wasn't this what they all wanted? Why did they want her to forget? Why would they punish themselves in this way?

"Celeste, we love you," Asra said, clinging to her. "That's why we have to go. We will be together. Soon. But, for now, we have to take care of you...and that means we can't stay."

Asra's eyes met Muriel's, and Muriel nodded, continuing. "We are going to fix this. I promise you. But we still have things to do. We have promises to keep. You don't understand...but you will. Soon. Okay?"

"No, no. I won't understand. Why is this happening? Please, tell me." she said, sobbing into his chest. "Why can't I remember? Why can't I stay?"

They held each other, Asra's head on Celeste's shoulder, tears streaming from his eyes. Muriels face buried in her hair, breathing her in. There was no good answer to any of this. Nothing satisfactory to offer her. It was devastating. Knowing she was too fragile to entrust with this knowledge. That maybe she'd never be able to grasp it. And what if she could? Would she trust them? Would she be able to go on loving them?

But, for now, their patrons had been clear. Celeste and Asra were not safe to stay. They all had to play their part.

Asra disengaged from them. He gave Muriel's arm a squeeze. Hoping to impart some small comfort, but knowing it was utterly useless.

Muriel whispered words of love and comfort. He made promises that he didn't know he would be able to keep. He kissed her over and over. He wiped her tears away, held her tight. He pledged his love and devotion to her.

When she was exhausted and defeated, she moved from the circle of his embrace, her hand at his cheek, staring into his eyes.

She made one last plea. "Let me stay, Muriel. I won't forget."

He shook his head, drawing a ragged breath. "It will be okay," he replied unconvincingly. "Because we love each other. And we'll find a way back to one another."

Asra placed his hand on her shoulder. "We have to go. Okay? Once you're outside, it will be easier. I promise. It will be quick."

Muriel looked upwards, remembering. It wasn't easy, last time. He remembered her wailing as he disappeared from her. He never wanted to feel this again. Never wanted to hurt her like this.

He followed them to the door. He caught her arm as they moved to leave, pulling her back to him for one final kiss. It was shaky and painful. Almost bruising.

"I love you," Celeste said, new tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"I love you," Muriel replied, his hand falling away from her.

Asra swiped his arm across his eyes, watching as Celeste stepped out. He turned back to Muriel, and Muriel raised his hand to him.

"You can't come here. Not anymore." Muriel said, dark, his eyes narrowing.

Asra blinked at him, shaking his head. "Muriel, please..."

"You aren't welcome here. I won't do this again. I can't." he said, finally.

Asra stepped back, clenching his jaw. "You don't mean it."

"I do." Muriel bit back.

And then the door swung closed. Asra heard Muriel fall against it, bracing against Asra. Against Celeste. Sealing himself away.

Asra stood, staring. Numb.

Celeste was staring off into the forest. Her hand was at her chest, unsure of what this sensation was. Why these tears were creeping from her eyes. Where she even was. She turned around, and caught the sight of Asra's hair, staring at a stone structure, buried below a tree.

"Asra?" she asked, looking around, panicked. "Asra, what's happening?" she cried out, frenzied when he did not turn to her.

Muriel sat, back against the door, listening to her scream Asra's name, completely lost.

He drew his knees up to his chest, arms crossed over them and lowered his head. His body shook with painful, silent sobs, wrenching out of his chest.

[nekokoaa]

NSFW shouto x reader costume party/jealousy

Fandom: bnha

Character: Shotooooooo

Warning: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7K

Start the new year out with sex, am I right? This one gave me a bit of trouble which is why it took so long to get out~ I hope you enjoy it~!

——————————————————

You were laughing at the small joke Ashido made about her costume and she complimented yours, saying it was the best costume out of all of them. You were trying to be humble about it and you shook your head, feeling a tad bit shy when she mentioned all of the men were absolutely gawking at you. It was the usual annual Christmas party held at Yaoyorozu’s house and a ton of your old friends and colleagues usually attended. It was also nice to have a break from all the hero work you had to do near the holiday season. Crime was always up around this time which meant barely any sleep, but you were able to pull through.

As like what Ashido said, your costume for the event was outstanding and quite different from the usual elves and reindeers that are seen every year. This year, you decided to be an Ice Queen, and it was a pale light blue, long sleeved bodysuit that revealed your smooth bare legs, and it was shimmering under the chandelier’s soft lighting. The neckline was quite low, and your boobs were pushed up to look perky. An almost translucent cape hung from your shoulders all the way down to your heels and it also was sparkling with every slight movement of your body. Even your hair that was styled sparkled like jewels were imbedded into it. Your costume singlehandedly had every man—and some women—in this room desire you and it made their fantasies run to new heights.

One of the poor saps who was absolutely entrance by your presence was standing by the bar, a wine glass in his hands, and heterochromatic eyes fixed in your direction. Todoroki couldn’t take his eyes off of you since the moment you stepped into the lobby of the mansion. He never seen you looking so voluptuous in your life and even though he knew the chemistry was high between you two, your relationship with Todoroki was never confirmed. You kissed him, he kissed you, and you went on one or two dates, but nothing was ever made official. And Todoroki was regretting that.

It was also a coincidence that his costume was a counterpart to yours. He decided to come to the party dressed as an Ice King. A brilliant crown on his head, a full cape hanging on his back, and snowflake designs spread across his white collared shirt and pale blue dress pants. A lot of people were asking whether you and him planned it but it was purely a coincidence—as much as he didn’t want it to be.

He had to dreadfully watch from afar as Midoriya, who was dressed as a Christmas tree, came back from the bar on the other side of the room with two glasses in his hands. The ornaments decorated in his hair coordinated with the green color and he had a large glowing star on the top of his head. He could see from this distance that his freckled cheeks were flushed when he approached you and Ashido. He babbled about something and you giggled, taking the glass from his hands and clearly thanking him. Ashido had raised her eyebrows at you, giving you a wide toothy smile before leaving you alone with him.

Normally, it took a lot to get Todoroki riled up and sometimes he may even grow annoyed without him even realizing it. But since the party started, Midoriya hasn’t left your side and as harmless as it seemed, it was annoying Todoroki. Greatly. There was three strikes and he was already on the second one.

“Are you alright, Todoroki?” A light voice sounded besides him. It was the host of the party, Yaoyorozu, who was dressed as a pure angel. She definitely had every man’s attention with her sparkly two-piece white outfit and large wings on her back. Except Todoroki’s, of course.

Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed when she spoke up and Todoroki took a small sip of his wine, glancing at the angel before his eyes landed on you again. “I’m alright.” He wasn’t in the mood to talk, not like he ever talked a lot, he mostly liked to save his words for something meaningful or rare moments of humor. Yaoyorozu knew that, but she also knew that his entire aura seemed different, which is why she wanted to check on him.

Todoroki didn’t say another word after and continued to stare at Midoriya possibly wooing you. You were chatting with him, a glowing smile on your face. You seemed relatively surprised when the live orchestra changed the song they were playing. It went from a jolly holiday song to a slow romantic one and when he saw Midoriya offer his hand for a dance, Todoroki could feel the rage igniting within him, the left side of his body felt hot to the touch.

Strike three. He watched as Midoriya slow danced with you, twirling you around as it made a soft giggle out of you. He was literally slow dancing his way into your heart. Todoroki didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

“Can you hold this for me?” He thrusted his glass at Yaoyorozu and she glanced down at it before taking it in her hands.

“Ah-Sure.” He heard her say as he walked off in the direction where you and Midoriya were practically embracing, at least in his eyes.

“____.” A soft gasp left you when you heard a familiar voice to your side. You pulled away from Midoriya and saw Todoroki standing to your right with his eyes set upon the number one hero. You couldn’t tell if he was angry because of how calm he seemed to look but you definitely felt something emitting from his form as he stood stiffly. “May I borrow ____ for a moment, Midoriya?” He already grabbed hold of your hand and softly moved you closer to him.

“Uh—yeah, sure, you can…” Midoriya’s voice faltered once Todoroki was already whisking you away from him. He was leading you away so fast that you nearly tripped on your heels. You had to pull up your neckline at times as it began to slip, nearly revealing your breasts.

“Where are you taking me, Shoto?” Your question was never answered. He continued to pull you deeper into the mansion, down the dimmed halls, until he turned right and pushed open a door. A grand bedroom was beyond it and once the door behind you was shut, all the noises from the party became muffled. You didn’t have time to even examine the luxurious space you were in because as soon as Todoroki had you alone, you found his lips eagerly moving on yours with your back against the wall and your body crushed by Todoroki’s.

Sure, you were a little stunned at first by his sudden behavior, but it wasn’t like you didn’t like what he was doing. You were no stranger to his lips after all.

You relaxed like you always did whenever he kissed you. It was none like his soft and slow ones, he moved with such hunger like it was the very last time he’ll ever kiss you. Wet and controlled, he nibbled upon your bottom lip just as his hands started roaming your sides. He loved the shape of your body, how soft it felt under his palms, he had to remind himself to tell you how good you felt once his head was clear from all this jealousy. You had to know exactly what you do to him.

“I hated the way he looked at you.” His breath was fanning your lips when he broke the kiss to breathe. You felt your very core start to tingle with his next gravelly words. “I should’ve made you mine from the start.” He silenced whatever words you were going to say with a deep kiss, his tongue pushed pass your lips rousing a soft moan from you. You felt your knees growing weaker, you were practically slipping down the wall behind you. Todoroki’s wandering hands fell upon your backside and squeezed it deliciously. You don’t know how badly he wanted to do that tonight.

“Mmm… Shoto.” His name from you sounded like music to his ears, soft and heavily noted with lust. Soon, he had you jump on him and your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you up by your ass. He carried you to the large size bed still dominating your mouth with his tongue. Your back met with the soft cushions and a light moan left the both of you when you practically collapsed on top of each other. Todoroki fit well right between your legs, it was as if he belongs there.

The two of you wasted no time discarding your costumes. He was no longer the ice king but just a man elated by the raw pleasure of his erected penis and you were no longer the ice queen, but just a woman whimpering at the fluttering of your clit, completely in the nude and shimmering with glitter. You didn’t care if you were getting some on the bed. You could even see some glitter on Todoroki’s arms and thighs, and just as you expected, he didn’t mind at all.

“Oh, ____, you’re so beautiful…” He spoke breathlessly and hummed softly when he planted kisses on your jaw and neck. You let out a light sigh, feeling his hardened cock rubbing against the moist lips of your vagina. You just wanted him already. You wanted him badly. The pleasure pooling at your core was starting to become unbearable, so you began grinding your hips against his.

“Sho, baby… I want you inside me.” God, how sexy can you get. The seductive purr of his new nickname had him groaning. He yearned to fulfill his desires of finally knowing how you taste, and he was more than willing to grant your wish. With a kiss to your lips, he raised himself off of your body and grabbed your hips. You widened your legs and shimmied your hips in position. You intently watched him, biting your lips in anticipation as he stroked the head of his dick around your heated hole. Already, you were oozing with your wetness as it smeared all over the head with his pre-cum. He didn’t want to give it another second, he plunged his dick inside inciting a lovely moan from you.

“Aahh… Yes, Sho… Yes…” He moaned at your words of encouragement and you reached for him when he bended over to reunited with you, one of your hands were stroking the back of his neck while the other was grasping his shoulder blade. He flavored your skin with more kisses before he started thrusting his hips into yours. His arms were hooked under yours and his hand was next to your head, fisting the thick covers under your body. He started at an average pace like he was testing out the waters, not too fast or slow, and you loved every second of it. You moaned every time he pushed back in, the luscious need pooling at your lower hips had you trembling underneath him. He couldn’t believe how tight you felt around his dick, hot and wet, while your body felt like sweet pudding.

“You feel so good, ____.” Another strangled moan left him, like he was choking on his lust. He wanted more of you—more, more, more, it was driving him insane. He soon lifted off of you, giving your thigh a quick slap that made your skin move like tremors. The giggle that came out of you melted into a moan at Todoroki’s slight variation of his position. He moved your legs until they were straight and resting up on his shoulders, and his hands were digging into your hips as his fucks became fast and hard. You cried out in pleasure, nearly spreading your legs back to its original position because you couldn’t handle keeping them close together. Of course, Todoroki wouldn’t allow that, so he made sure to keep your legs in place while he brutally drove himself into you.

The sound of slapping thighs was surrounding the room, at some point, you were wondering if it was going with the beat of the muffled music coming from the grand hall. You didn’t care so much about the height of your own voice, knowing that it was probably being drowned out by the obnoxious Christmas songs.

“Tell me, ____.” Your eyes, that were closed, fluttered open to the sound of Todoroki’s low voice. He was looking at your face, his eyes heady and delirious of ecstasy with his reddened lips slightly apart. He looked so handsome, you nearly wanted to cum at the sight of his face. “Let me know you’re mine.”

You mewled at those words, bringing your hands to grasp your soft breasts. You squeezed and rubbed them under his hot gaze, your beautiful eyes never breaking contact. “I’m yours, Sho—Aah! O-Only yours!”

“Yeah…” He moaned, increasing his pace. You saw just the slightest smile on his face and it felt like something was squeezing your chest when you saw it. “You’re mine.”

There was only one thing he wanted to do right now and that was to completely devour you. He spread your legs and quickly leaned over you all while continuing to fuck you reckless. He was growing drunk off of your moans, and he didn’t want to become sober. He buried his face into your chest, sucking and biting on your voluptuous breasts, glitter was getting into his mouth, but he didn’t give a single fuck. Nothing was going to stop him from having you. He felt your legs go around his hips, crossing over his back, and he took that as encouragement to fuck you even harder. He never heard your voice go so high before, you started clawing at his arms and back, you even bit on his shoulder for a moment. He almost thought he was hurting you until he heard your sweet voice.

“Ah—Right there, Sho—Fuck! Aaah…! You’re gonna make me cum!” You felt yourself growing wetter. Something was gnawing at your core and it wanted to be released. You saw nothing but stars in your vision as pleasure rushed through your body rendering you helpless. All you wanted to do was just cum now, you didn’t care about anything. You were holding on to Todoroki for your dear life.

“____…. ____…” You heard him chanting your name in whispers, his movements so mindless because he was purely being driven by his instincts. He sloppily kissed you with his tongue, starving for more as he swallowed your loud moans down his throat. He drank every single one and regurgitated a deeper one of his own, vibrating your lips and throat until it tingled. You were getting closer to the edge; your cries grew desperate and your entire body was trembling.

“I’m… cumming!” You warned him, although he already knew.

He felt your legs around his hips lock him against your body, and your eyes had rolled to the back of your head. Briefly, he saw the whites of your eyes as you moaned loudly in orgasm. Your walls had contracted around his dick and brought him over the edge faster than he would have liked. He wished he could’ve kept fucking you till dawn, but he knew all good things come to an end. He came inside you in spurts of white stringy cum. He wasn’t as loud as you, but the grunt he did sounded sexy as hell. His thrusts reduced to slow, languid movement and he didn’t want to stop until he was sure he filled you up with his cum, just another declaration that you were his.

“Hmm…” You started to smile while you hummed, relishing in serenity. You felt your heartbeat finally slowing down to its normal pace as Todoroki had fallen beside you. He didn’t move far though, he threw an arm around you, not wanting to be away from your warm body that was as soft as honey.

“Never took you to be the jealous type.” You giggled, burying your head into the side of his chest. He sighed when he felt your lips briefly touching his skin, he returned it with a kiss of his own on the top of your head.

“You don’t have any idea what you do to me.”

[patternedclouds-draws]

Ayutthaya’s Greens

 While I’m super stoked to see the amazing new skins we’ve gotten in Overwatch this Lunar New Year (and unsurprisingly gay as hell for a number of them), there’s one quieter aspect of the new assets I want to share my joy about; the feeling of seeing something of the nature of my home represented in the game, even if it’s just some small details here and there.

I’m not Thai nor have I lived in Thailand, but I live in a neighbouring country with similar ecology and climate. I stepped into a custom game to explore the new map and found myself looking at a sea of gold-tinted green jungle, with the sun rising bright through a sea of low-hanging fog... it’s a scene that could be from so many parts of tropical Southeast Asia, including mine. I could almost feel and smell the same cool morning dew, the humidity in the air when you get out of the city and have a chance to wake up in the hills.

Sunlight has a subtly different quality when you’re in climates where the air has so much water breathed into it. Sunlight diffuses; colors aren’t as stark and vivid as they are in dryer air. Everything under the sun instead has light gently washed over it. Everything has a little pale gold tint. Or maybe it’s that you see everything through a faint haze of gold, suspended in a million tiny bits of water in the air. Distant hills and clouds blend and fade in to the sky in all kinds of pastel shades.

Check out those wood textures. (The central one especially being more detailed than the rest on my laptop, for some reason.) And the growth winding its way through the roof, and the bloom of light coming through.

And these ferns. The ferns inside and out of the ruins gleam with moisture in places and look dry in others, and if you look close enough you can even see the dots marking individual sori (clusters of sporangia with spores) on the leaves. Ferns like these (paku or pako or various other names) sprout from all kinds of nooks and crannies, just like home.

And there’s the thin layer of moss and algae on stone on the outer walls of the temple, in a gradient growing heavier towards the bottom, because years and years of rainwater trickles down and collects/seeps over time.

The broad leaves of the palms are just the slightest bit translucent; letting you see the shadows and beams of light cast on them and through them. The ragged edges even blow in the wind, and you can see the gaps between them shift in size.

(Just think: someone or someones in the Overwatch design team had to do this. Find a way to make every leaf have tears that behaved just like real torn leaves would, and differentiate every leaf enough that, looking at the trees like this, they all seem unique at a glance. Every leaf, every tree.)

Siwalan or Asian palmyra (B. flabellifer) palms (or close enough). The same trees stand in the compound of the real-world Angkor Wat in Cambodia, and across many other parts of Southeast Asia. Including some of the green belts and roadways and secondary brush that make up the green things where I live.

They’ve simplified some bits of the tree’s features, but what I love most about the detail they’ve chosen to include is the changing ages of the leaves. The older ones yellowing at the botton, about to drop altogether, and the yellowing tints of the tips of the greener blades. It’s just as it is in nature.

Growing in the courtyard are Thai water lilies, and desert roses (maybe; at least the flowers remind me of them). Brilliant splashes of color that stand out, each petal moving in the wind. My mom grows pots of the latter in our home garden.

Even though the map’s theme is based on a different country, it’s hard to describe how much it means to me to have just these little bits of my own home region represented in an FPS in a beautiful, vivid, recognizable way that makes me think “someone from home must’ve worked on this. They must have.”

Thanks, Blizzard.

[goldensunflowers98]

This is my first imagine I’m posting on here! I normally post these on my Wattpad (you can message me for the username for there if you want) but I wanted to give Tumblr a try! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to send me some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Also please tell me if you want more! Enjoy! x

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BLOOD LUST

“A bit too tight, Mama,” I wince slightly as she yanks the strings to my corset so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Pain is beauty, Adelaide, and if you need to look absolutely perfect for when the King comes to town tomorrow. The Master can’t see you looking anything less than perfect,” She says as she takes a pin from her mouth and places it near the new, makeshift hem so she can remember to sew there so I won’t trip over my own dress tomorrow.

“I’m scared. He has never come to town. Do you know what he’s coming for?” I whisper as I look out the window to see the tiny faeries glowing brightly as they fly and dance in the moonlight, darting to each and every scarce flower they could find in the chill of winter to find pollen to make their faerie dust. Mama tenses and pauses for a moment before shrugging and continuing her work.

I giggle and wave as one of the faeries flies to the glass and watches in awe as the candle light illuminates my dress that I was to wear for when Master arrived.

The mere thought of him sent chills down my spine. I had never met nor seen him, but I had definitely heard of the cruel, vampire king who ruled over this land. His skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, every bluish-green vein noticeable, with eyes so red, it was like a fire blazed within them. He had chestnut brown curls that barely grazed his shoulders and his teeth were glistening white with points so sharp that with just a bit of pressure, he could pierce your neck and drain you dry in seconds.

They say he is a sad man, even though he ruled over many, many lands with all the riches of the world. In his thousand year reign, he never found love and, tales say, he searches relentlessly for his mate but to no avail. He knows only two features of his intended mate; fiery, red hair, the color of the very thing he craves the most, and eyes as green as emeralds just as his used to be before his blood lust settled in. They say his eyes have been red for hundreds of years, so long that they were beginning to say his past, gentle, kind nature and viridescent eyes were a myth.

Rumors were now going around that his sadness was developing into fierce, desperate anger, setting fire to every village that lied to him, saying there was a girl there who matches the description of his beloved.

I was used to the stares, the whispers, and pointing over my eighteen years in this world. I was the only redhead on a town of snow blondes and chestnut brunettes; a peculiar sight. I knew I matched the description of the king’s mate and so did everyone else in this tiny town. Sometimes, I dreamed vividly of a man so beautiful that he took my breath away. Even though I never dreamt of him with eyes like fire, only deep green, I knew it was the Master, the king, but I tried not to think much of it. I could never be his beloved.

“Okay, darling. Take it off so I can finish the hemming. I want to be able to get some sleep tonight,” my mother says tiredly as I slip off the beautiful, flowing dress and hand it to her.

Leaning over, she places a small kiss onto my forehead. Pulling back, she gazes at my face with an odd look in her eyes before sighing quietly. “Get some sleep, Adelaide. It could be a big day for us tomorrow,” she says and I immediately know she’s talking about the mate rumors. I nod softly as I pull on a nightgown before climbing into bed.

She walks out of my room, the wooden door eerily creaking shut, and I tug my quilted blanket closer as I hear the winter wind whip against the trees, the snowfall making it difficult to see the faeries glow as they continue to desperately scavenge for a few more hours until barren winter truly begins.

Feeling myself start to drift off, I lean over and with a quick gust of breath, I blow out my candle and my room goes completely dark, moonlight slowly creeping in through the window. Closing my eyes, I wonder if I’m going to dream of Master tonight as sleep overtakes me.

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The once boiling water that was now my bath was starting to chill as I soaked absentmindedly. I could hear the villagers clamoring and shouting outside as they ready for the King’s arrival. I couldn’t believe that they believe that I was his mate so much that they sent a messenger to his castle. They put our little village, our home, in danger because of their beliefs. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Adelaide! Time to get out! The watchers spotted Master Styles about thirty minutes away, my child!” My mother shouts as I wash the rose oil off my body. Standing, I let the water roll and drip off my naked body as I grab my towel and quickly dry off.

Walking out into my bedroom, I gasp at the beauty of the dress my mother had finished making. The tight, corseted bodice was intricately designed with elegant pearls that shown with brilliant luster. My breasts were lightly pushed up and my pale skin looked even more translucent in the white dress. The flowing skirt billowed to my feet and felt soft on my legs. Extra fabric made a cape-like train appearance that just kissed the ground behind me as I walked. It was beautiful.

My hair was down with a few elaborate, delicate braids across the middle. On top of my head, my mother placed a wreath of baby’s breath that showed a stark contrast against my blazing red hair.

Turning to my mother, I open my mouth to speak when a loud horn is blown. The King was here.

My mother quickly grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house. My father and my younger brother stand there in the snow, looking down the beaten, dirt road in awe. For once, the tinkling of small bells was not heard as the faeries hid from the cold winter. Only gasps and whispers were trickling into my ears as I turn to see what all the fuss is about.

Walking further into the road, I stand there as dry leaves crack and crinkle under my feet, the ground cold and damp from the melting snow.

My eyes dart around to see the villagers in their best outfits gazing at me for a quick second before looking back down the road in trembling fear and excitement. Looking forward, I squint slightly only to gasp to myself as I see a small team of steel, black carriages pulled by dark stallions. Their heavy puffs of breath were evident in the cold air and their black manes were flowing behind them as they trotted, tiny, white snowflakes getting caught in the strands.

They slowly come to a halt as I feel my heart beating fast in my chest, my breathing becoming more and more frantic as I see a man hop down from his driving seat and open a carriage door. One dark boot stepping out is all it takes to send my body into overdrive before a masterpiece of a man as beautiful as the legends say fully steps out of the carriage. For someone who has lived over two thousand years, he still looked youthful and perfect.

His face is smug and dark as he looks around with a slight scowl, the commoners and people of the town swarming him instantly. His steps were calculated and determined as he walks to the stage where local news is normally projected. It was amazing to think he could actually run faster than a gust of wind.

I was in awe of him.

“My people,” he starts as something inside of me begins to tingle and a feeling I’ve never felt comes over me. His voice was raspy and smooth like thick, sweet molasses, sending every hair on my body on end.

He inhales deeply, looking like he was in pain and holding himself back but it seemed me and his guards were the only ones who notice. His guards take a step towards him as if they were ready for him to pounce on someone any second.

“As the years go by, your king stays healthy and young, ruling over this country fairly and keeping war at bay. But as I stay young, my servants and my slaves, especially my dear, sweet, generous blood slaves, grow old and frail. When they grow a certain age or get sickly,” he smiles kindly but I could see the maliciousness behind it. “I dispose of them, letting them leave the castle and go to a… a better place.” He says as the townspeople grow curious and anxious at his impending words.

This is not what they thought he was here for. He wasn’t looking for his mate at all when he decided to come to our village. He was looking for slaves, particularly blood slaves!

I take a step back as the realization comes over me, hoping no one will notice but the guard beside the king locks eyes with me and smiles demonically, his sharp teeth glistening as I imagine all the blood he has sucked from innocent people. His smile widens when he sees the color of my hair and his intrigue deepens.

“So, my lovely people, you are going to have to make a decision - a sacrifice, if you will - and hand over just a handful, only a handful, of your healthiest. After all, it’s the least you can do for your king,” he smiles once more, surveying the area as the people begin to panic. They didn’t want to be separated from their families!

Shouts of disagreement and outrage fill the small space before he holds his hands up to silence them. “If that’s how you are going to behave…Seize them,” he flicks his wrist, instructing his guards to rush into the crowd and start grabbing our healthiest and best-looking villagers.

I let out a small yelp of fear as I turn on my heel and start to run, gathering my dress up so I don’t trip and fall. Looking back, I see the guard I locked eyes with fighting through the crowd to get to me. Sending a quick prayer, I rush into the dark, nearby woods.

“Sir, there is a lady with red hair! Matching the description of your beloved!” I hear the man say as I run through the trees.

“Where?” The way Master Styles speaks sounded desperate and angry that the guard let me get away. His deadly, demonic tone sends shivers down my spine. By now, tears of fear are rolling down my cheeks as I feel briars and switches cutting into my legs as I run for my life.

“She ran through there!” is all I hear until an inhuman growl pierces the air and strikes terror into my heart. My breathing is harsh and scarce as my corset digs into my ribs and I feel myself becoming lightheaded.

Coming to the edge of the woods, I spot the clearing where our horses are kept. The grass is long and it was dark as it was still early in the morning and the winter clouds covered the sun. I pray the heavy odor of the horses will cover my scent as the wind blows, causing my dress to billow freely behind me.

I become so distracted by my loss of breath and the horses stampeding across the dark plain, I forget the one that is chasing me.

“Let me see your face.”

The voice that belongs to the vampire king sounds hopeless and sad, begging for me to turn and face him. I freeze for a moment, scared out of my wits before something inside of me yearns for me to turn to him.

Slowly, I turn to face him and our eyes lock. Instantly, a feeling I have never felt before takes over me and I suddenly want nothing more than to spend my life loving this man.  In a split second, his deep red eyes instantly turn emerald green as a dimpled, beautiful smile outbreaks on his face. His eyes fill with tears as he takes a step towards me, arms open to embrace me.

“My love, you don’t know how long I have waited for you.” He speaks softly and before I know it, he is within arms reach and gently taking my hand in his. He lightly gasps at the electrifying shock that goes through us and somehow his smile grows wider.

“You’re bleeding.” He states simply, making me look down to see my dress torn and my feet and my shin dripping blood from the briars. Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared as he leans down and places his face in the crook of my neck, even though I could feel his sharp fangs scraping across my vital veins. “Your blood smells so sweet, so delicious.” I tremble at his words, his tone causing tingles to run through me.

I actually wanted him to bite me.

Tiny, curious faeries emerge from the wood and their tiny bell-like rings fill my ears as a few watch us. I mentally say goodbye to them in my mind.

“What is your name, my darling?” He asks as he continues to lightly drag his teeth down my soft, vulnerable neck.

“A-Adelaide, Your Highness,” I whispered shakily, shocking myself as I turn my head to expose even more of my throat.

“Adelaide,” He purrs my name, the tingles now in my most private and secret place. I blush at my thoughts and feelings after just meeting this man, but what he does next shocks me to the core.

“You will never run from me or leave again. You’re mine now, ” He says, his voice turning dark before his sharp teeth sink into my neck and a bloodcurdling scream escapes me as he holds me still. He is ravenous and acts as if he hadn’t drank in years as I feel my body being drained dry. He slowly sinks us to the ground and I feel the soft grass against my skin as I stare up at the sky in shock, my mouth open in a silent scream as I feel myself becoming weaker and weaker. My pure white dress was now covered in my own blood as it drained out of the two puncture wounds in my neck.

Finally, he pulls away and I stare at his blood covered face as I feel my eyes failing me. Still, I did not fear him for an unknown reason. I trusted him as he whispers and lulls me to close my eyes. “Sleep, sweet Adelaide. We are going home now.”