#chatters from the nightsky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serverusslaype · 6 months

Text

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips.

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it.

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility."

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

"No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly.

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

550 notes · View notes

maruzzewrites · 6 months

Text

nightsky.

astarion reflects upon the nightsky; astarion & karlach | if you want to buy me a ko-fi!

The night moves on with the chatter and the laugher, the stars as only witnesses of a moment of joy among people who had so much to lose, and won.

Astarion stands a bit aside, away from the last remains of a crowd. People chatting, people enjoying an evening without thoughts, and he is reminded every second of what he could never have. He hoped that being away would alleviate the pain, but it lingers around him like an injury never healed.

He dreamed of this moment, these moments, for years. Centuries. And he still cannot shed the weight of what he experienced to enjoy one night like a normal person, without the baggage that comes with being Astarion. He barely even remembers how to be himself, what he would do in these situations if he isn’t the one used to lure one more victim into the belly of a beast.

And around him, everyone is simple. And joyful. Drunk on alcohol that is cheap, and full of food that sat in crates for days and days. Scorned by the druids that swear to protect nature, but their definition of nature is their own, and yet every single one of these people is happy. The rivers of good will run deep, and run far, but never quite as far as necessary for him to be free before mere days ago.

It makes his blood boil to see the serenity with which people go on about their business, about even terrible things they have to endure.

Betrayed, rejected, manipulated, everything under the sun. And yet he is the one who can’t stomach the most mundane of interactions without having to rely on the same old act, the survival instructions he built for his own good during the years.

He can only stay away, nursing his own bottle of wine.

Alone.

That is, until someone loud and warm like the sun he just learnt to enjoy again comes by. She laughs like all the others, maybe with more glee and bliss than anyone else, and she greets him into this night with a toothy smile, “Hey! Why are you here all by yourself?”

Astarion observes Karlach. Tall, imposing, gentle Karlach. The hound of the hells, depicted as bloodthirsty warrior is no more than a docile young woman who can drink someone under the table and has the enthusiasm to burn down a house. Quite literally.

Astarion should hate her. He should resent the way she can just avoid thinking about her own pain, while he can’t even remember who he was before he died. Yet, there is something endearing about the woman that pushes him to not be malicious to her.

Not entirely malicious, more like. He is still Astarion after all, catty and everything, “Maybe no one is good company enough for me, my dear.”

At that, Karlach laughs again. A genuine, deep kind of laughter that could appeal the most arid of hearts, if they are able at all to feel some type of positive emotion anymore. Astarion learnt long ago, vampirism dries up your ability to feel mildly, and everything becomes so much. He cannot even phantom what a pure vampire feels, if just a spawn like him has this experience.

In any case, that laughter both irritates and feeds into the growing affection he could see himself feel now that he is out of his own hell. It is difficult to trust again, to let his soul be soft and open to something that could hurt it again, but Astarion has the feeling that both sentiments he feels towards Karlach come from the same source: her past.

He has been robbed of the wonder one feels for the world, and there she is with the clock ticking inside of her, and she can laugh, smile, love with unbound enthusiasm. She embraces what comes to her when Astarion trembles at the mere thought of exposing his true self again, if there is anything there anymore, if there is anything to be saved anymore.

“Sorry, mate. I need a breather, but I don’t want to be alone.” Karlach breaks his train of thoughts with those simple words. She motions to lay down on the grass, nearby his tent and in his general presence.

“Who said you had my permission?” He asks, a bit annoyed with the newfound company that invited herself into his brooding space.

She chuckles again, a bit more sad now, as if to show once again that his choice is the one that will isolate him. Astarion knows that his actions are not those of someone who will be trusted, liked or cherished, but maybe he wants that and maybe he deserves that. If he doesn’t trust those he travel with, it’s more than natural they will return the same energy back at him, but for now he is exhausted of the pretense and the faking.

Only for tonight, he wishes he could linger in his hurt.

“C’mon! I will be silent as a mouse, promise!” She says, in that whine she usually uses the moment she wants something. Astarion heard it before, when she asks not to be left alone at camp or when she wishes to have one more ration of food before going to sleep. It is always about something harmless, inoffensive whether she gets it or not. She is not selfish, or demanding, but always wanting.

And what can he answer? Can he say no? He considers the options; as if he isn’t already in a precarious situation as a spawn, as if she wouldn’t be favored if it came to the point of being chosen, as if there is much more for him to lose and be left alone to fight whatever it is they need to go against from now on. He cannot have her upset with him, he chooses.

“Alright. Alright. But give me my space and my silence, darling.”

The only answer he gets is an excited, low little laugh that stays in the air long after it left Karlach’s lips. She first kneels down, just to lay back on the fresh grass, as her skin burns and warms up like it usually does. Astarion cannot help but let his eyes wander towards the tiefling after a few seconds, finding her with her eyes filled with stars and a smile on her face.

It is odd, the way the light played and reflected on her content features. The way the stars were bright, small and delicate inside of her and the way her eyes are so lively, drifting from one point to another, following imaginary patterns in the sky.

Astarion doesn’t know what it is, though, that pushes him to ask, “Is it that interesting?”

Karlach turns hear head towards him, surprised. She makes a confused noise as if to ask why he is talking to her, then she grins big and toothy, and answers with a light teasing, “So you don’t want me to talk, but ask me things anyway?”

Astarion is about to tell her to nevermind the question, to simply continue as she is doing, and he looks ahead as he resolves to avoid even thinking about her. But before he can act all puffy about it, Karlach looks back at the sky and sighs, “The stars are just so beautiful. I missed them.”

Astarion stays silent.

He raises his eyes to look over the dark expanse of the night sky, with stars dotting the black and blue with their intense light. The moon, hanging high, shines down into the nearby mirror of water and dances on the surface. Astarion has seen this sight so many times, as the night is all he has ever known in the last centuries, but tonight it’s different.

Tonight, even if with fear in his heart, Astarion walks these lands a free man without the worry of having to return home with a victim or to face some sort of torture. Tonight, the stars are witnessing his autonomy from a power he couldn’t oppose before, but now is merely a memory that lives miles away and won’t reach him easily.

Tonight, he is with people who profess to care for him. It is difficult to understand, to believe and to learn, but Karlach herself roars and acknowledges her immense need for affection and, in doing so, admits her care for others. Astarion can’t even attempt to seduce her, easy as it would be, because that body burns hot like the hells.

A funny thought, one he voices, “They look even more beautiful in your eyes, darling.”

If he cannot seduce her with physical affection, he can attempt to test the waters and do so with sweet nothings whispered as close as possible without harming himself. He sees her giggle at the compliment, he is sure the movement of her arm was supposed to be a light shove, but she rethinks before he is burnt, and her limb simply lays in the space between the two of them.

The gentle warmth coming from her hand, if he didn’t know better he is almost tempted to take it in his cold, dead ones to hold and seep into his flesh. He wonders how it is, to burn from the inside, and to have no beating heart. He smirks both for the reaction he got from her, and because of that bitter thought; his heart beats no more, he is pretty sure. If it does, it’s because of no natural cause.

But Karlach adores and loves, with all her soul, still. Despite the lack of heart, she is kind and sunny like a hot summer day, one you will curse for the heat but will miss once snow starts to settle on the streets. He still has a soul, doesn’t he? No one can take that one away from him.

Could he love and rejoice in the company of someone else, could he learn to enjoy his freedom like Karlach does, despite the years of constant torture weighting on both of them?

He cannot be anchored to the past, he thinks. If he wants to feel this soul wiggle and be moved, he cannot stay where it hurts and freezes. He needs a hot summer day to enjoy after a long, cold winter without sun.

And just as those thoughts start to crowd his mind, Karlach jumps on her feet and stretches her limbs, announcing, “Alright, mate. I’m gonna get something to drink, want any?”

For now, Astarion decides, he wants to get close the only way he knows how. For now, he touches known territory and he will see, eventually, if something new can grow from this sun that decided to revolve around him by chance.

“Bring me some wine, will you? And come back to talk with me, I think I need the company.” He smiles, seductive. Karlach blinks at the suggestion, but she laughs and tells him she will be back soon.

Astarion looks up, at the night sky.

The stars shine bright, lonely, but perhaps there is beauty even in things one knows already, if watched with new eyes.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 #astarion #karlach #astarion x karlach

17 notes · View notes

friisans · 4 years

Note

You're making me love Asdyne, if they were to get married, what would their wedding be like?

omg, never really thought about this but they definitely had a badass tropical-themed wedding (on the surface) because Fiery Sunshine Boy + Aquatic Queen = summer vibes. Metta was probably kind enough to rent out his resort just for the occasion (considering him and Gori had already gone from a biggest fan / celebrity dynamic to genuinely good friends at this point).

the dresscode was still fairly formal, but guests were also encouraged to bring spare swimwear / summer-casual clothes because the reception was literally a huge beach party, to which Metta was also happy to provide acouple yachts for. coincidentally, the sunset looked incredible that day, and for those who decided to linger much later after the party had finally began to die down and a decent amount of guests had already gone home, also got to enjoy a bonfire, leftover food & beverages, calm chatter, and a starry nightsky before finally heading home themselves.

#15/10 would attend #at!chat #asdyne

40 notes · View notes

hi-epervier · 4 years

Text

Two Heartbeats, part 1

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

The mission should have been Sasuke's stepping stone to demonstrating his worth in such a way that none of them could ignore it.

He'd pleaded with Itachi to let him tag along, knowing that the punishment would be harsh when Father ultimately discovered that they had disobeyed. But Sasuke was sixteen, had mastered the Gōkakyū no Jutsu ages ago, submitted himself through a brutal training regimen, was a better fighter than most of the elite, and still, they treated him with more contempt than a child, for relying on his body rather than the link even their best elements used as a crutch. Normal children at least got to be peers, if not equals. Sasuke was a pariah amongst his own kind, until he reached his full potential.

Which would never happen, because Sasuke's bonded one was out there somewhere, beyond the borders of the mountains the Uchiha clan called home.

An outsider. Impossibly. Infuriatingly. And yet.

He was sure if it.

What other choice did he have? Stay put, and be looked down on all his life? He'd rather slit his own throat, get it over with.

The mission had been simple. Get in, eliminate the target, leave only the evidence necessary to claim the kill. Their reputation stemmed from their ability to work from the shadows. Anybody could kill, but the Uchiha had turned doing so with both precision and ruthlessness into an art. There was no room for mistakes.

He'd been poised to make the kill, had secured the target while Itachi and Shisui worked in unison to keep the bodyguard team engaged.

The anomaly in the frequency had stilled his hand.

There was a popular saying amongst the clan: they said that an Uchiha's heart beat twice. It was one of the very few family secrets they shared with clients around bottles of sake, and the quaint nod to the clan's obsession with their teams never failed to draw good humor from these people who would stop at nothing to weaponize others' aptitudes for their own benefit. Perhaps they would laugh less, if they knew that every single word rang true.

That was the joke. Hiding in plain sight, still unseen.

Sasuke tilted his head up toward the nightsky, like a dog listening for some noise beyond humans' faculty to pick up.

In his distraction, he let his hold grow slack. The man in his grasp noticed his mistake, immediately doing away with the meek display of a trembling old man to seize the hilt of the tantō at Sasuke's hip, raising it to strike.

Only for the blade to stop mid-motion, inches from Sasuke's flank, seemingly out of its own will.

Behind his cloth mask, Itachi slanted his younger brother a frown. He pulled. During the space of a second, wire glimmered in the light of a nearby street lamp. The tantō jerked away, and with it went Shimura Danzō, falling to the ground.

Sasuke turned his attention inward.

If he focused enough, he could feel it. The source, behind the heartbeat. It had slipped his notice until just now, when the frequency had changed from its peaceful rhythm to an heart rate too chaotic to match that of an Uchiha in the near meditative state they entered when they hunted; and the chakra had spiked into existence.

'Close...'

Now, the heart rate was settling again, and the chakra receding. His pathway was being shut down, but that didn't matter. Sasuke had already pinpointed its rough destination. Pinpointed him.

A glance confirmed that the fight was nearing its end. Only one bodyguard remained standing, but he was apparently skilled and angry enough to require both his brother and Shisui's attention at the moment. A kunai speared in the skull would do that to someone, if it didn't kill them on the spot. Meanwhile, the target was making a run for it. Sasuke could intercept him. It would be the matter of seconds, an easy kill.

Sasuke leaped for the roof. There, he paused for an instant, tuning out his surroundings to feel around for their joined senses -flashes, unphatomable jumbles of colors, the smell of fresh linen, an open window up high, chatter from the lively street below- before taking off running.

Straight toward the heart of the village.

#sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #soulmates au #me treating myself to an au starring possessive!sasuke #two heartbeats

25 notes · View notes

caffeinatednini · 4 years

Text

parisian nightlife and artisanal cuisine // tokyo streets, harajuku and sakura // high-rise buildings and the nyc lifestyle // she who travels around the world through tripadvisor // you are every happy places on earth

i. p a r i s.

nothing matches the parisian ambiance in the petit-montrouge neighborhood, the delicate aroma of wonderland patisserie's baguettes and croissants—crisp and buttery. even just by morning strolls in the suburbs around the 14th arrondissement of paris makes me feel the sensuality and amour from the auras of people you get to bump into. cafes are filled with sweeteners not for red wines but in lovers' kisses and laughters in between chatters while waiting for the fading heavens to become picassoan nightskies sprinkled with stardusts and cosmic magnificance. take me, take me to paris. make me, make me feel the warmth of romance manifested in roses between intertwined hands.

PARIS, TU ME RENDS HEUREUSE.

ii. t o k y o.

the unrivaled spring in tokyo streets where beauty peaks as cherry blossoms shed petals of beaut felt like heaven crying pinks along with a touch of history—the sakura trees and the stone walls of edo castle. cyclists enjoy the serene morning dew along shibuya crossing amidst the fresh scent of then florescence. at night, fuel your heart with the neon lit streets of shinjuku full of elite clubs and izakayas—the alter ego of the carefree daytime tokyo. witness the glam life and different take of japan in fashion—harajuku finesse. bring me, bring me to tokyo. let me, let me be one with the swaying trees of tender blush and culture immemorable.

東京, あなたは私を幸せにしてくれます。

iii. n e w y o r k.

ah, quirky new york, the city that never sleeps is full of surprises. your eyes will be blessed with marvels of architecture and sleek skyscrapers everywhere you look at. the busy avenues filled with tussling daytime workers in corpos and messenger bags. pedestrians buzz every now and then they're signaled with green—they'd walk amidst the dying rain in cobblestones. in the corner of the street, children get giddy for wiener stands by the pavement and girl scout cookies. lively nyc, you never fail to make blood rush in my veins—adrenaline seeping in my heart. send me, send me to new york. drive me, drive me to a life of productivity and excitement, a life worth living.

NEW YORK, YOU MAKE ME HAPPY.

iv. a l l m y h a p p y p l a c e s.

it's crazy how i can make happy places out of cities i've never been into but baby, you are every happy places on earth and i haven't even met you yet. what can i call that?

perhaps, insanity?

i'm going insane every minute you make me feel

b l i s s .

至福。

f é l i c i t é .

13 notes · View notes

plantvenuss · 4 years

Text

Avengers XBlack!reader - Is snow supposed to do that?

[ CHRISTMAS EVE SPECIAL ]

[ If you’re interested in more of Plantvenuss’ Christmas Series, Click here ] 🍒!

Summary: It’s a calm christmas eve in the avengers compound, there’s no base to infiltrate, no mission reports and no briefings. Everything is going as smoothly as it can, the Avengers set up the christmas tree, play board games and even sing to some christmas songs that Steve and Bucky have no idea about. But what happens when the “snow” starts to pour?

“No, Idiot the star doesn’t go there.”

“well where the hell does it go then? since you know everything.”

Sam sighed, yanking the the star from Bucky’s metal hand, he gave him a look of disgust. Bending his neck so he could look Bucky up and down intimidatingly.

“You haven’t been around for like 79 years, so yeah,” He paused, placing the Star at the top of the tree. He climbed down from the ladder, a smirk plastered on his face as he took a final look at the masterpiece he had created. He turned to bucky his joyful expression turning to that of a sour one, like Bucky had stabbed his family right in front of him. “I do know everything.”

Annoyed, Bucky slammed the ladder shut, the noise echoing throughout the room. He tucked the ladder under his armpit, making sure the ends of the ladder poked Sam in the stomach.

He huffed, then walked away, storming to the storage room. Sam nodded in appreciation before turning to Wanda, who was sat on the carpet resting her elbow on the couch, engaging in deep conversation with Vision.

“Wanda?” He asked, she turned her head, her ginger hair flowing around her. It was her cue. She held up a finger, asking him to wait, he whined and she used her hands to push herself up after excusing herself.

“Alright, fine.”

She moved her hands the way she always did when she was doing something special. Sam squealed beside her as she worked her magic. Using the fake snow tony had provided to create the Christmas look sam so desperately wanted this christmas.

As the scarlet aura died down from the tree, the faux snow settled, each branch lightly covered in white blankets.

“Will you leave me alone now?” She laughed from over her shoulder as she walked to Vision again, resuming the conversation.

And then you walked in to join the rest of them, with a tray of hot chocolate sat on your palm. Walking past to place the steaming cups of chocolate you glanced at the tree, A mischievous smile plastered across your lips.

“The tree looks like shit.” You slyly commented. Standing up after you bent down to place the drinks on the coffee table. Thankful murmurs buzzed around the room as everyone grabbed a cup.

“Fuck off, (Y/N). The tree looks good and you know it.” He joked, placing his hands on his hips while he faced the tree, his back turned to you. You stood beside him, resting your palm on his shoulder and nodded.

“Yeah, not gonna lie it does look good.”

“I know.”

The music that was playing softly in the background slowly ceased, the noise of chatter replaced the sound of music and Tony stood in the center of the room, Pepper sat by his foot laying out what seemed to be Uno cards.

“Game-time!” He announced, everyone groaned, the familiarity of the annual ‘Game-time’ dawning on everyone. No-one liked to loose and that’s why the Avengers worked so well together on the field. But when It came to competition the Avengers were sore looser’s. And everyone knew it was hard to compromise with sore looser’s.

“Let’s spice it up a bit.” Clint suggested as he took a seat beside Natasha, who’s eyes were already darting the room, looking for a victim she was going to target first.

“Okay, how?” Steve asked, taking a seat beside you, who was purposefully trying to get Natasha’s attention, you wanted a challenge, and a challenge you would get.

“Whoever wins get’s to choose a car from the garage to drive for a week.” Tony proclaimed. Grumbles subsided his suggestion, people started getting up, the idea of riding a fancy car not really intriguing them. His shoulders slumped and he thought harder.

“A month?”

“A year?”

He huffed out, reaching for the keys in his back pocket. He knew what they really wanted. It had been a topic since the beginning.

“Whoever wins gets to ride my private jet, anywhere. For a month.”

Suddenly people began sitting back down again, eagerly waiting for Pepper to hand out the Cars. Natasha’s eyes locked onto yours and you were finally, fully invested in the game.

“Now that’s what we’re talking about!”

None of them lasted very long. You had been so close to winning twice but every time you got close it’s like Natasha had a +4 card waiting for you.

The game was intense, right now it was You, Natasha and Bucky who surprisingly picked up the game very quickly, the three of you were reduced to three cards each, seeing as no-one else could win, the rest of them; very grumpily tapped out.

Natasha had a +4 card waiting for you, but you had two waiting for her.

Bucky put a number five, green down very slowly Natasha’s eyebrows quirked up, a settling smile forming on her lips.

Just as she was about to slam the +4 card clint yelled out, and everyone’s heads turned to his direction, he was facing the window the Snow pouring down from the nightsky. A christmas Miracle.

Except it wasn’t.

“Is snow supposed to do that?”

He asked, turning half of his body before facing the window again. The patter against the window becoming harsher. Everyone scurried behind him to see what kind of prank he could’ve been pulling, but he wasn’t lying.

The “Snow” was coming down as shards, very sharp shards that pushed through the ground and creating a crack through it, an eruption of screams filled the area.

“No. I don’t think it is.” Steve said, his authoritative captain America tone seeping through, your shoulders slumped and you tilted your head back, annoyed.

“Watch this man tell us to suit up.” you complained re-adjusting your head so you could see everyone scramble towards their closet.

“That wont be necessary.” Tony held up a hand, tapping on his watch making his A.I come to life.

“F.RI.D.A.Y? what’s the weather like outside?”

‘Clear skies, Boss. But there seems to be a sudden alter in altitude.’

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed, she pushed past everyone and pressed her nose against the glass, looking down.

“So we’re going up?” Sam asked Tony and he nodded, lost for words.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. We’re going up?” Clint sighed, “Just when I was going to retire again.”

“Cap?” Natasha asked, placing her cards face down “what do we do?”

The whole room turned to Steve, he looked down as the ground seemed to become thinner and thinner.

“We find out what the hell is going on.”

“So this is basically like Sokovia again?” you asked, adjusting your combat boots.

“Basically.” Tony confirmed, his Iron suit already on him. “Except this isn’t a whole city. It’s just the compound.”

“Weird.” Natasha said, going through the surveillance, to see who was behind this, but the feed was buzzed up and smashed to pieces.

“And the longer we stay here,” Tony pointed at the floor of the briefing room, “The quicker we loose oxygen.”

Steve nodded, facing you and Tony. “So let’s move out.”

You weren’t surprised at all when you saw Loki on the field of the compound. Waiting with his legs crossed.

At first you were all confused, you didn’t know who was behind this, didn’t know where to start, but when F.R.I.D.A.Y said there were heat signatures on the field, Steve sent You, Wanda, Thor, Hulk and Tony to go and see what it was about, while the rest waited to see if there was any back-up needed.

And there he was, sitting patiently. Staff sat beside his leg.

“Took you long enough.” He said, smiling and opening his eyes, rolling his shoulders back.

“Let’s end this madness, brother-” Thor began, trying to reason with his brother, but he was quickly cut off when you stood in front of him, placing your hand on his abdomen to push him back.

“Nah, nah nah fuck that, why the hell are we going up 80 miles per hour?”

“And why are we the only ones?” Tony added, his repulsor flickering with temptation.

“If you’d let me explain.” Loki stated, standing up and grabbing his staff swiftly.

“I have something planned for new york, again. And I don’t need you getting in the way. 2012 I was unprepared. I was a child.”

“But now,” he continued. “Now I have my plan, now my plan will succeed, and the Avengers will be no more.”

“And what is your plan?” Wanda asked, clicking her fingers.

“I’m not falling for that again.” He smiled, the tip of his staff lighting up when Tony’s repulsors brightness increased.

“Well maybe, you’ll fall for this.”

You brought Loki back to the compound on his knees. Halfway through the fight; when he realized he couldn’t win. He yielded and offered to release the compound from it’s altitude.

Thor had made sure that Loki was locked away for good this time in Asgard and was under heavy surveillance every second of everyday.

You and Natasha stayed up playing uno until the morning rise, you both started to argue when you realized that both of you had fallen asleep mid-game and therefore did not know who the winner of the game was.

“Why don’t we just check the camera’s?” Bruce asked as you and Natasha glared at each other across the room.

The smirks grew on your faces and you locked eyes.

“Nah.”

#Avengers #x black reader #avengers x you #steve rogers x black!reader #tony stark #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #bucky barnes x black!reader #natasha romanov

51 notes · View notes