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flying-nightwing · 8 months ago
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Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson
Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?
(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)
Also, enjoy!
Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis
Word count: 4721
Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.
Have fun ;)
“Nightshade, status”
You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.
“Nightshade, status?”
“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”
“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”
“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”
What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made. 
You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence. 
 “Tell me your position, I'm coming”
Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”
“On my way”
You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.
Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it. 
“Quiet, little bird”
The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist. 
He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”
You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”
Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position. 
“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned. 
“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”
He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”
Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body– 
You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”
“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”
You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”
He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”
The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group. 
You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire. 
You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting. 
The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action. 
Literally.
You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck. 
He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely. 
You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.
Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.
And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard. 
And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him. 
Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.
You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”
Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego. 
In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours. 
Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard. 
He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”
Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away. 
He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”
You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more. 
“That's it little bird, fly for me”
His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock. 
When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”
You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”
Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment. 
And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise. 
Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now. 
He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.  
“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.
“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow. 
“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”
“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”
The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”
The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.
Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that. 
“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”
“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”
He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment. 
“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway. 
“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point. 
He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.
“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”
You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”
“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”
His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly. 
“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”
“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”
That would be a proper scandal indeed. 
“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”
You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.
“Nightshade?”
It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed. 
Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic. 
“B?”
It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.
“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”
You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.
‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.
“Nightshade, what’s going on?”
You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right. 
“Nightshade?”
“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”
Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.
“Ok, where are you now?”
“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”
“... Are you sure?”
“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”
“Alright, I’ll reroute”
“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”
You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”
He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”
“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”
He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”
“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”
He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted. 
“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”
He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well. 
“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”
“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”
“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me” 
He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own. 
After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round. 
You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck. 
“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”
A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”
He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.
“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet. 
He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.
You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.
“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”
You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”
He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”
Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”
He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on. 
“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game. 
He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”
You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”
As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”
You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.
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insufferable-homestuck · 1 year ago
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So very tempted by the thought of being classpected by someone else. Personally, I've pegged myself as a Maid of Heart. I hope youre still accepting little clsspecting requests dhskbshs
I think one of my favorite things ever is creating something that people can really connect with- whether it be myself (or, my system, i suppose) or my friends.
I do a lot of art, a lot of writing. I'm very passionate about it! But in all fairness, it tends to loop back around to doing it for my buds. Most of my art is like, character references.
I also, do a lot of RP, which is what the character references are for, typically. A lot of my characters are just, like, fractals of myself. I realize that like, that might have things to do with being a system but oh well! All of my characters are parts of me. I know ppl put themselves into their characters, but this is different, I feel. But they aren't all like, self inserts, either. Its weird.
I am a trans man, if that means anything. For a very long time, I struggled with Identity and allowed the people around me to tell me who I am and what I'm allowed to like and interact with, all because I wanted their approval or affection. Since transitioning (i guess???) I feel so much better, obviously
What else is important about me fuck im trying to think
As mentioned previously, I'm a system. At least, I'm pretty damn sure. I've known for a couple of months now, Im not far along in the process of communicating well with the others. I've only had like, a couple of experiences that are like, ya know, clearly with system members.
I have, a lot of interests. And I'm very into them. It might be other people in my system having their own interests, but they are also MY interests, too. They're just more crazy about them than me.
I'm bad at communicating at times with people about my needs. I feel needy, emotionally, and I feel guilty about it
I feel like, I am stubborn. I have a hard time recognizing that there's a problem until it becomes unbearable or until someone has to smack sense into me.
I love horror stuff, especially the more psychological horror. I do like a bit o the gorey stuff. Shits classic. But im on that thought provoking shit. Im out here pondering what does it mean to be human and shit. It goes crazy
I have a hard time starting like, shows and games. I'll binge and then forget about it, and then I'll get intimidated by not remembering exactly where i left off and just never finish whatever it was.
This is so hard lmao i cant remember anything else go nuts
hey you heart obsessed fuck
everyone who has messaged me about this has described themselves as forgiving, creative, shy and stubborn but I can't keep spinning around the same aspects right. that's what Homestuck quizzes do and im better than that
so, i assign you the Heir of Blood, you care about your friends and relationships in your life, you have strong *bonds* with various characters, its also pretty funny you like horror movies, "gorey" movies. blood. you get it
not to shit on you specifically (( very much doing that. you talk like a dirk fan. )) but don't tell me your fucking classpect if you want me to assign you one, what are you HERE for? i don't care THAT much any attention is good attention etc but my PREFERRED audience is people who have no classpect or don't know anything about them so I can spit my bullshit and they believe me. You can have a classpect if you so please, just keep it secret in your ask and only tell me what it is if I'm right or close
I had another guess which was Thief of Heart but that'd sound so insulting to say to a system lmao, or extremely comical, you decide
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rufousnmacska · 5 years ago
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Museum Day
A modern manorian au request
Part 1
Part 2
___
Part 3
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The bar was unexpectedly full for a Thursday night and when Dorian opened the door, several people had to step aside to let him through. Loud and boisterous, cheering and booing as one, the crowd was focused solely on whatever championship game was on the big screen. Rifthold never made it into the playoffs of any sports, so their presence in the final tonight meant the bar was packed and Manon was working.
Too busy pouring beers, she didn’t see him come in. But the man working beside her did. He hadn’t been here the night Dorian first met Manon. His long, dark hair was pulled back and Dorian could see all the features he’d passed on to his daughter, including his unusual golden eyes. Those eyes were inspecting him now, taking in the expensive clothes and styled hair. Dorian smiled politely, trying to interpret the look, but the man was inscrutable. Someone ordered a drink and Dorian finally escaped her father’s gaze.
As he waded through the crowd to where Manon was working, he spotted her cousin. She was walking towards him, arms full of glasses and dishes, when she stopped and pointed her chin at him. “Art guy, right?”
“I’m Dorian,” he said, yelling slightly to be heard over the noise, and hoping to disguise his disappointment that she didn’t already know his name. “I’d shake your hand, but that’s not a good idea. Can I help?”
She huffed a thankful breath and held her arms out for him to take a stack of pint glasses. “I’m Asterin. It’s nice to meet you. Officially, I mean. Unofficially, I know everything about you.” She grinned and winked before moving past him towards the kitchen.
Dorian found himself smiling too as he followed her. Manon finally saw him as he passed the end of the bar. Her puzzled expression at his appearance was, for lack of a better word, so adorable, that he wished he could have taken a picture. He paused before the swinging door and shouted, “Asterin recruited me.”
Manon glanced over at her father, who was waiting on people at the other end of the bar.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, more quietly this time. He should have called before showing up out of the blue. Although they’d talked often, they’d only seen each other once since she’d let him and his brother stay at her place. Dorian’s efforts to free himself and Hollin from his uncle’s grasp had wreaked havoc on his already hectic class schedule. And her work schedule was just as bad. But after the interview had gone so well, she was the first person he wanted to tell.
“No,” she said. “The game is almost over and things should quiet down soon.”
“Okay. I’ll stay out of the way.”
With a fearsome point of her finger, she said, “Don’t let Asterin boss you around!”
Dorian gave her a look saying it was way too late for that and headed into the kitchen. Asterin was instantly there, plucking the glasses from his grasp and setting them in the dishwasher. When it was loaded, she turned around to examine him.
“I can turn around,” he joked. “Mr. Blackbeak gave me the once over when I came in, but he only saw the front.”
Asterin laughed and looked as if she was going to say sure. But instead, she said, “Mr. Crochan. Manon uses her mother’s name. I wouldn’t want you to screw things up right off the bat.”
“Oh shit, thank you,” he said. “That would’ve been bad.”
“Nah, he’s easy to get along with actually,” she said. “Just protective of Manon.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at him. “We all are. So, princeling or not, you better not hurt her.”
Solemnly, he said, “I promise.”
Asterin gave him another once over before declaring, “Okay, you’ve passed my test.”
Laughing, he asked, “How did I do that?”
“How will I do that,” she corrected, looking pointedly at the dishwasher, then back at him.
Dorian found a clean spot to put his portfolio down, then joined her. “What do I do?”
“First, you need an apron. I’d hate to mess up your pretty suit.”
*****
Asterin had been running back and forth to the kitchen like a mad woman, going in with dirty dishes and returning immediately with clean ones to put behind the bar. She’d refused to answer Manon’s questions about where Dorian had disappeared to, or what she’d saddled him with.
When she finally had a free moment, she headed back into the kitchen. Dorian was standing at the sink, working his way through a stack of plates. The kitchen wasn’t big enough to offer a full menu. Or even a half menu. But her dad had partnered with the pizza place next door so their food could be ordered here.
“I thought I told you not to let Asterin suck you into this,” Manon said. She’d silently walked up behind him, and at the sound of her voice, so close to his ear, Dorian flinched and dropped a plate on the floor.
He swore and picked up the pieces, only to find her grinning at him. “You did that on purpose!”
Ignoring the accusation, she asked, “How did it go?”
Tossing the broken dish into the trash and wiping his hands on his damp, dirty apron, he said, “You are looking at the new intern for Adarlan Architects.”
Before she could congratulate him, her father stuck his head in the door. “Manon, get out here!” When he saw Dorian, and what he was doing, Tristan gave a brief nod - of greeting or approval, she couldn’t tell - then disappeared.
On her way back out, Manon said, “We’ll have to celebrate. Something better than washing dishes in a bar.”
The next day, when he wanted to go to the museum, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in leaving the method of celebration up to him. She loved the museum, but she’d been volunteering a lot in addition to her normal hours. This was her first day off in a long time that she’d planned to avoid the place.
Coming through the rotating door, Dorian took her hand and pulled her to the left. Towards the entrance to the art museum.
“Have you ever been through this side?”
“Once. For the employee orientation,” Manon admitted, expecting disappointment or annoyance. But his face lit up with excitement.
“Well then, can I interest you in a tour?”
“It’s your party,” she said. “But, I don’t know any tour guides who hold the visitor’s hand.”
Leading her into the first gallery, Dorian smirked. “Things are done a little differently on my tours.”
“I suppose I’ll need to choose a favorite piece?” Glancing around the room, all she saw were a bunch of dark, drab paintings hanging on the walls. Boring portraits of old men, groups of old men, and more old men. A few naked women. Cynically, she wondered if any of the artwork would be of naked men.
“Your grimace tells me the Xandrian style is not for you.”
Heat radiated over her cheeks and she cringed. “Was it that obvious?”
Dorian tilted his head and stared at her. The flush of her skin grew hotter under his gaze and Manon wanted to turn away, but she crossed her arms and stayed put.
Finally, he said, “I think I know what you’ll like. But in the interest of giving a proper tour, we’re not skipping things. Figuring out what you dislike and why can help you better appreciate the things you do like.”
Manon knew nothing about art, and had never been interested in it. During her orientation tour of this wing, she’d ignored most of what was said, relegating it to mindless nonsense. Give her the concrete science of bones and minerals and anatomy over the ever-changing interpretations and feelings of art any day. Though, paleontology involved its own kind of interpretation. Yes, it was science. But unless someone developed a time machine, there was no way to be 100% certain of what these animals looked like or how they lived. So, in some ways, science demanded just as much creativity as the arts.
As Dorian began to talk about the paintings in the first gallery, she tried to keep an open mind and follow his advice, thinking about what aspects she didn’t like and what, if any, she did.
*****
The route through the art museum had been circuitous and he’d doubled back through a few galleries. But Dorian wanted to save the exhibit he thought Manon might appreciate for last. While she’d enjoyed some of the sculptures, not a surprise based on her preferred subject, she hadn’t expressed much interest in the broad collection of paintings. Her eyes widened at a few, but he was counting on the next room to blow her away.
Letting her walk in first, Dorian held his breath, waiting for her reaction.
The room was smaller than most, displaying works by a single artist. Darkly painted walls and focused lighting gave off an air of neutral elegance that worked well with the art. Huge landscape paintings using bright colors and simple strokes surrounded them: towering mountain peaks glowing in the sunrise, sinuous rivers meandering through wide valleys, and skies filled with billowing clouds that seemed to be alive with movement. They possessed a wild, windy sort of beauty that he had come to associate with her.
Trying not to stare too intently, Dorian watched Manon slowly walk around the room. She stopped in front of each painting. Ever so faintly, her neutral mask was starting to break. But before he could claim victory, she turned a corner and didn’t come back.
He found her in front of one of the smaller pieces, and the only one with figures. At the foot of soaring, snow-capped mountains, a man was leaving his home, leaving a woman and child behind. Eyes wide and glistening, Manon looked at it for a very long time. Dorian retreated to a bench, leaving her alone with the painting and her thoughts.
When she finally joined him, he made no mention of the tears ready to spill down her cheeks, and made no move to hug her, even though he desperately wanted to.
“I never knew my mother,” she said, speaking so softly he had to lean closer. “She died when I was born and I was raised by my grandmother. I didn’t even know my father until I was 16.”
Unable to resist, Dorian slowly placed a hand on her back. It was a light touch, until she sank backwards an inch or two, resting against it.
“My grandmother was...” she shivered before continuing. “She was not a good person. She framed my dad for dealing drugs and managed to get custody of me. But she told me I was unwanted. Abandoned. And it was her bad luck to raise me. She...” Manon paused, then took a deep, steadying breath. “She was very good at finding your weakest points, digging her claws in, and not letting go. And while she was feeding me lies, she was telling my father I was ashamed of him, that I wanted nothing to do with him. Asterin had it worse.” She stopped abruptly, perhaps realizing how much truth she’d just laid bare to him. “We survived it somehow. When I tracked down my dad and learned the truth, Asterin and I left and came here. His family took us in.” She smiled then and added, “It’s a big family. Lots of cousins.”
Dorian said nothing, trying to take it all in. Trying to comprehend how difficult it was for her to speak about, how much he appreciated her trust. Trying not to angrily ask about the grandmother who’d abused her.
Manon wiped her face dry. “She died two years ago. When we heard, Asterin and I planned to celebrate. But we just cried.” She faced him, her eyes downcast. “We just hugged each other and cried.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say. It seemed to be enough as she tilted sideways against him, letting him shift his arm to wrap around her shoulders.
“That painting. He doesn’t want to leave them. You can’t see their expressions, but you can tell. He already misses them and he’s not even gone.”
He looked back up and immediately saw what she meant. The goodbye held a terrible finality that none of the figures seemed to want. But for whatever reason, had to go through with.
“How did you know I’d like these?”
Dorian laughed softly. “Something about these paintings made me think of you.”
“What was your favorite?” she asked, changing the course of the conversation away from herself.
He looked around the room. “I love this style. The simplicity and use of color. But I think my absolute favorites are the goddess statues.”
Manon rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “The naked ones.”
“They weren’t all naked.” Judging from her eyebrow, she didn’t believe him. “And it’s not because they’re naked,” he protested. “You have to admit the carvings were incredible. The way the marble looked like living flesh and muscle. I honestly don’t know how they did it.”
She relented. “Okay. Yes, they were beautiful.”
“You’ve never told me what exhibit is your favorite in the natural history wing.”
Pink spread across her cheeks and she quirked her mouth to keep from smiling. “The pterosaurs.”
Dorian grinned, wide and victorious. He didn’t quite know what he’d won, but it felt like a victory. Like yet another thing connecting them together. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”
She made a noise that could have been agreement and pulled him up when she stood. As they made their way back through the maze of galleries, she asked, “Do you have to get home to Hollin now?”
“No,” Dorian said. “He’s staying with a friend all weekend.” She didn’t say anything more, though he sensed she wanted to. “Why?” He pulled her closer and whispered, “Do you have more ways to celebrate my huge success?”
Laughing, she gestured to their surroundings and said, “I’ll admit, you didn’t go the route I was expecting. But that’s not what I meant.” They were outside now and she stopped to tug a wool hat over her head. Avoiding his gaze, she asked, “I thought maybe you’d like to meet my dad? Maybe have dinner?”
The way she asked it told Dorian this was something she didn’t normally do, if ever. He’d missed officially meeting Mr. Crochan last night at the bar. After berating Asterin for kidnapping him, Manon had pulled him out of the kitchen shortly before the place closed and walked him outside. Her father was busy talking to some people in the corner and he missed Dorian’s exit completely. Despite her enthusiasm about meeting up today, and knowing how much she guarded her privacy, he’d gone home feeling a little hurt.
But that hurt was completely forgotten with her invitation.
Her expression was a little wary, so Dorian said simply, “Yes.” This seemed new for her and he didn’t want to make her feel more uncomfortable by pulling some I’d be honored to meet your father speech, even if that was exactly how he felt. But he added, “As long as he doesn’t insist on pineapple pizza.”
Her laugh rang through the air, musical and lovely. And for that moment, the crowd surrounding them disappeared. No shrieking kids, no busy sidewalks, no loud traffic. Only the two of them seemed to exist.
Looking at him as if she sensed it too, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. When he no longer felt the softness of her lips on his skin, the moment passed and they were once again in front of a bustling city street. With hands held tight, they made their way into the crowd.
*****
Epilogue
He should have checked his bag rather than try to stuff so much into a carry-on. The couple glaring at him as he tried to dislodge it from the overhead compartment was quickly losing their patience. But Dorian just ignored them, gave a final tug, and freed his luggage. In moments he’d be seeing Manon. With his own eyes, not on a screen.
They’d only been apart for five months, but it had been the longest five months of his life.
Getting access to his trust fund and full custody of Hollin had set him back two semesters. Which was fine. Except that part way through, Manon was accepted to grad school at the University of the Wastes. A dream come true that came with a tarnished silver lining. They’d be in two different cities on opposite ends of the continent until he graduated.
Now, with Hollin settled in a good boarding school on the west coast, and his degree in hand - a degree not chained to any one location - they could finally be together.
Finally, he thought, patting the tiny box in his pocket.
That would have to wait though, until her family visited next month.
On the flight, he’d watched the scenery change from forested mountains to rolling, grassy plains, but it still hadn’t prepared him for what he saw when he stepped off the plane. He was struck by the immensity of the Wastes, the wind and wide open sky, the distant hills that were full of fossils. And then by her.
Manon ran to meet him and he dropped his bag. They held each other as if it had been years and they’d been oceans apart.
Lifting her off her feet, Dorian rasped, “God I missed you!”
Manon laughed, and when he put her down she wore a smile he’d never seen before, full of light and joy. “Welcome home, princeling.”
The end :)
*****
Tagging - @itach-i​ @nestasbucket​ @blackhavilliard​ @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies​ @sierrareads​ @chloe123love607​ @manontrashbeak​ @over300books​ @bookishwitchling​ @jimetg98​ @mis-lil-red​ @yourfacesickens-me​ @awesomelena555​
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(painting: Remember, by Nicholas Roerich 1924)
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koifishanonymous · 2 years ago
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🪄
i am very curious about this :3
I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU LET ME GET MY PLAYLIST
uh a little content warning i get pretty personal and existential with some of these so
no particular order
1. love, me normally by will wood
''I was nothing before, so I couldn’t have asked to be born // I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then? // Is there nothing to fear? Cause shit's getting weird // So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan // And I'd rather be normal, yes, so normal // I suggest that we keep this informal // 'Cause a normal human being wouldn't need, no // To pretend to be normal, to be normal // Well, I guess that's the least that I owe ya // To be normal in a way I could never be // C’mon, c’mon, yeah, I said c’mon, yeah // C’mon, c’mon, yeah, I said c’mon, yeah
C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally"
basically the whole ending to the this song perfectly encapsulate both mmy mental state and my feelings towards love. like this song is the closest thing i have to an explanation. also just the way its sung, desperately and angrily almost just makes me explode
2. i / me / myself by will wood
"I am quantum physics // My witness brings me into existence // I wish I could be a girl, and that way // You'd wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend // Am I pretty enough to love back // No not yet // I wish I could be a girl, and really // I'd prefer it if you would use I, Me, Myself // Am I pretty enough, am I pretty enough // To fucking die // Little old me in a big world // Well I would give you my whole world // Little old me in a big world //I wish // All identities are equally invalid // Don't you think that there's a chance that you could live without it? "
basically the same as love me normally, but for my gender! i scream these lyrics because i wish I was as simple as just being a girl but i'm not and i would rather we lived without the pressure to know who you are, or even be only one things at a time
3. black out days by phantogram
"if I could paint the sky // well all the stars would shine a bloody red"
i dont know how to describe the meaning of this other than that is i had eldritch being powere, i would do this
4. achilles come down by gangs of youth
"You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles) // More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles) // But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) // You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)// You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion) // You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts) // Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof) // Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you // I'm talking to you"
i relate to achilles a huge deal and to her this song for the first time, was like both patroclus and agamennon were whispering to me. this bit especially broke me
5. iris by the goo goo dolls
"and I don't want the world to see me // cause I don't think that they'd understand"
pretty straight forward, I've tried to open up to so many people and ive only pushed back and made to hear their problems, so I genuinely don't think they understand. good reason to not show mysef, but also because i dont know myself
6. art is dead by bo burnham
"I am an artist, please God forgive me // I am an artist, please don't revere me // I am an artist, please don't respect me // I am an artist, you're free to correct me // A self-centered artist // Self-obsessed artist // I am an artist // I am an artist // But I'm just a kid // I'm just a kid // I'm just a kid, kid // And maybe I'll grow out of it"
i really like creating things, and usually jm not even good at it and I cant help but feels thatbeing an artists has lost all meanibg. people only seem to make art with some sort of end goal and i want to be able to make without the pressure of having a job or school or every other problem in the world
7. sweet hibiscus tea
"And I'm not your protagonist // I'm not even my own"
i can 100% tell you that this is not my body, i am not me. i want to be the main character so bad but i know i'm not
8. people watching by conan gray
"I wanna feel all that love and emotion // Be that attached to the person I'm holding"
i struggle with developing close connections with anyone, i hide nyself and only create a facade you cannot get close to because its a curtain with nothing behind it
9. cardigan by taylor swift
"And when you are young, they assume you know nothing"
this is lyric hits hard because whatever i say gets dismissed, blamed on hormones, or childishness or some other teen "problem"
that all hahah i went a little overboard, and somehow still have more
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prompts-of-a-dreamer · 4 years ago
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I'd like to request a jjba matchup please! Any character from any part is fine. I'm a straight gal. :) I'm glad my last comment about your headcanons made you happy.
At first I'm shy and introverted and it takes a while for me to open up. I feel like my resting b*tch face scares people away sometimes, haha. After a few months, I finally show my true colors: goofy, very weird, tomboy and down-to-earth. If my friends had to describe me, they'd say I'm the goofy idiot of the group. I like laughing and making other people laugh. Hell, I even make corny dad jokes. I'm a very honest person, also super sarcastic and overprotective. I have a sailor's mouth lol. At times when I'm upset, I don't know when to shut up and I say hurtful things. I overthink things a lot and it really slows me down to the point where I get depressed and I completely shut down. I hold a strong passion for art and music because they're the only things that get me by. People tell me a lot that I'm a pretty girl, so my confidence is on point. However, on rare occasions I find myself wishing if I could just get rid of my naturally chubby cheeks. I'm 5'6', leo (INFP-T) and I get along with most people. I get along with a lot of geminis, aquarius, libras, aries and tauruses. When something isn't right between me and another person, I want to talk things out and understand their side. I'm a good person to come to when people need to get some weight off their chest and I'm especially generous to friends and people I love. I often come up with the dumbest questions/scenarios to talk about when I'm bored. I like the idea of going around and pulling harmless pranks on people. I've never had a boyfriend before, but if I did have one I'd be very affectionate and clingy. I'd cause play fights and give him stupid nicknames. He's the only one I'd ever show my soft and girly side to.
thank you!
Hi, this is my first time doing matchups, so I’m sorry if this doesn’t fit, but here’s what I think. JJBA has a lot of characters, but I’ll narrow it down from parts 1-5 because I haven’t fully read the manga yet. 
I have some character headcanons for this, and I’ll rank it by compatibility:
1. Joseph Joestar (Part 2)
At first you two would bicker and quarrel a lot. He’d note your shyness and how quiet you are, practically taunting you to say something, even if it is out of annoyance towards him.
He’d do some goofy stuff, pulling pranks on people, but you caught him while he was on his hideout. With a displeased look on your face, you pursed your lips. He tried explaining his elaborate prank on Caesar.
At first, you were trying so hard to keep a stern look on him, so that he’d stop goofing around. You didn’t dare to show him your ‘crackhead’ side yet, you two just weren’t close enough for you to do that.
But his weirdly appealing ridiculousness soon got the best of you, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.
He was surprised by your laugh. “Oh my god!”
It was a long and slow progress, but you were finally ready to show how amused you were, at first by witnessing his pranks, soon followed by you giving ideas and suggestions. Before you knew it, you started helping him set them up, taunt Caesar, and hide with Joseph near the trap, spying on the unknowing Caesar.
Caesar seems really irritated at you two, trying hard to not let his guard now whenever either of you are around. If he catches you two together, a funny, ironic confrontation happens, because it’s two against one.
One of the most memorable moments of you and him is when he made you try ink spaghetti.
He seems like he doesn’t care about little things, but he gave you a silent compliment when he accidentally encountered you singing and playing music.
You have a competition on who’d make the worst (and by worst I mean best, corniest) jokes. Caesar hates it when you hold one of those competitions around him, he’d just get up and leave the room.
He might unintentionally tease you about your cheeks (sorry! chubby cheeks are cute, don’t feel bad!) but when he sees that it bothers you, he’ll try so hard to lift your spirits up again.
“Hey, (y/n)! I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry! Your cheeks are cute, if they were asses I’d slap them.”
He’d pinch your cheeks to make you stop sulking.
“Your cheeks are fine, now cheer up.”
The relationship between you and Joseph could be entire platonic, one-sided, or romantic, though I’d advise you to stay friends. You two make a great duo, but Joseph is emotionally shallow, he doesn’t show much affection, at least not until you die a tragic death, crushed by a stone, leaving him behind. Only then will he show how valuable you were as a person to him.
If he’s into you, he makes a lot of sexual innuendos. The Barney-Robin type of chemistry from ‘How I Met Your Mother’.
He doesn’t like cuddling.
But he likes play fights and weird nicknames. 
2. Josuke Higashikata
Josuke would be the best friend type of boyfriend. The one you can talk to, play games, but also share sentimental moments with.
It might be a little awkward at first between you and him, but once the ice cracks, the conversation doesn’t tire out.
Congratulations, you unlocked an achievement: Josuke’s bed head. 
Do not tease him about his hair, unless you need a quick, free way off the planet.
He enjoys seeing you do your hobbies. He might sing with you.
If you were upset, he’d be shocked a little bit, but tries his best to be understanding and to comfort you. He’d let you lay your head on his lap or ask if you wanted any food.
He won’t force you to talk, if you don’t answer his “What’s wrong, baby?”, he’ll just rub your shoulder and stay next to you, an ear ready for consolidation. But he’ll leave you alone if you ask him to.
Fights do happen, but you usually talk it out after a couple days.  
He rolls his eyes when you say one of your corny dad jokes.
But he likes the harmless pranks.
Playing video games together, with you wearing his hoodie/clothes.
He’s not afraid to show some vulnerability, though at first he might try to stop the tears during a sad movie.
During horror movies, he’ll show little to no reaction. Not out of toxic masculinity, but he just needs a little more to actually get him scared.
He’s really glad to show you his nephew. He thinks the age difference is cool.
3. Jonathan Joestar
You and Jonathan would make a good couple.
He would be understanding and would compliment on how beautiful you are.
Loves to see you draw, paint, or hear you sing. He doesn’t join in on it, though, he’s a little shy.
Would never make you cry. If he did, he’d never forgive himself for being so ungentlemanly. Let him repent his sins for a while.
5′6″ is by no means short but Jonathan is BUILT. He’d pick you up, bridal style, and carry you around.
Doesn’t mind cuddling.
Doesn’t like your dad jokes. He doesn’t hate it, but he could live without it.
Other headcanons with random characters:
Art rivalry with Kakyoin. You don’t even get to talk to Rohan, he hates you if you were around Josuke.
Polnareff would definitely flirt with you.
Doing weird, random, goofy shit with Mista and Narancia.
Abbacchio either hates your dad jokes or joins you in making them. His retorts are horribly unfunny.
And that concludes my assessment of these characters. Thank you for reading.
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ghostheadcanons · 6 years ago
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Papas and Copia having dinner with their s/o and s/o's very Christian parents? (Bonus for a "Yes hello I'm fucking your child" type moment) Please and thank you. I just wanna say I really love how you write I have on notifications instant favorite❤
Thank you so much, anon! It’s an honor!
I just wanna say: This isn’t meant to offend anybody who is actually Christian and not an asshole about it (though let’s be real, if you were easily offended, you probably wouldn’t be into Ghost, am I right?). As a Christian myself, I can say this isn’t a potshot at the religion itself! 
Just some of the jerks who practice it. :P
 So for the sake of this ask, we’re just gonna say the parents are the absolute worst type of Christian, and the reader doesn’t have/want a good relationship with them. You all know what I’m talking about. Anon, if you want kind and understanding parents who also happen to be Christian, please send an ask for that and I will absolutely write that!!
That being said….let’s get into it, lads. >:)c
Your parents were surprised when you told them you’ve been doing a lot of church work lately, and even more surprised when you told them you were seeing someone working there! 
You never told them what KIND of church it was….
Mostly you told them that to get them off your back, but that backfired spectacularly. Now they want to meet him over dinner…if you don’t relent at some point, they’re going to keep bothering you forever about it and guilt-tripping you. 
Might as well get this over with.
Papa Nihil:
When your parents see what looks like the pope getting out of the car in their driveway, they’re a mix of awed and thrilled! 
…until he gets up close and they see the skull makeup. 
He is very happy to meet your parents–vigorously shaking your father’s hand, and placing a delicate kiss upon your mother’s knuckles. Your mother looks like she wants to die. 
“I can see where my cara mia gets their good looks from, now.” Wink. Subtle, Nihil. Subtle.
Insists on saying grace instead of your father. You keep one eye open as Papa Nihil says his infernal version of grace to find your father staring at him like he wants to kill him. Your mother might actually faint. 
Your father would pull you aside and demand to know what the hell is going on, who have you brought into their house?! 
Papa Nihil is left alone with your mother. “You have a lovely home.”
The two of you end up having to leave early because your boyfriend said it would look even better with a picture of Lucifer on the wall instead of the cross hanging there, and your mother burst into tears. Nihil doesn’t understand why they got so upset–it was an honest suggestion! 
Papa I:
Isn’t wary at all going to see your parents. On the contrary, he sees it as an opportunity to get some new converts! It’s never too late to have a change of heart, after all. 
He dresses modestly, greets them respectfully, and isn’t phased by their faith. 
Your parents love him. 
That is, until he starts going on about what a wonderful student of the dark arts you are. 
“Truly, I have never met such a studious disciple of our lord Lucifer,” he praises as your father chokes on his mashed potatoes. “and I am honored to have them by my side.”
He takes your hand in his and smiles softly at you. You smile back, and kiss him, right there, in front of your parents. It’s pretty chaste, but you still have both parents glaring daggers at you from across the table. 
Papa I would want to debate Christianity with them, but neither your mother or father would let him get a word out, talking over him and raising their voices. His brow furrows–truth be told, he’s a little annoyed. But he never yells; he just keeps talking. 
Like Nihil, you have to leave early. Papa I sighs. He can’t say he expected any differently. But at least the two of you got dinner out of it.
Papa II (slightly +18!):
Doesn’t want to go. He’s vocal about that. “Yes, that’s how I want to spend an evening–being condescended to about my religion.” You’ve told him how awful your parents are, he knows what he’s in for if he says yes.
You beg, though, and eventually agree to do That One Thing He Likes the next time you’re alone together if he’ll come with you. That gets him to relent.
Wears a nice suit for the occasion (and he left the sunglasses at home!), and is polite enough when meeting your parents. You can tell both of them are judging him for how ‘worldly’ he looks, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. 
Rolls his eyes when grace is said. 
Does that thing where if you say “Dad, please pass the salt?” both your father and he reach for it. II always gets it first, passing it gently over to you. “There you go, caro.”
Papa II lets you do the talking and figuring out how to describe the church services. He would legit start feeling you up under the table while you’re speaking, not seeming to notice your little squeaks and reddening cheeks. 
The whole time, he does not break eye-contact with your father. It’s a power move, plain and simple. This child is not one of you anymore. They are ours. Mine.
The nail in the coffin is when you don’t stop Papa’s hands, in spite of how angry you see your father getting. You can’t deny the little thrill you feel at seeing the man who made your childhood a nightmare so furious.
The pair of you make yourselves scarce pretty quickly after that. You sit beside him in the limo, red in the face while Papa sips a glass of champagne.
“I think that went well, caro. You should invite me more often.” 
Papa III (slightly +18!):
Unlike his brother, Papa III is ecstatic to go and meet your parents! Even knowing how they are. You get the sinking feeling that he’s planning something (which he absolutely is). At the same time, though, you’re curious as to what he has in mind…
He’s dressed like a youth group pastor when the two of you go to dinner, and is a proper gentleman when greeting your parents. 
…then dinner gets started, and they start asking him questions like where you two met. 
“Oh, I saw them across the room while I was conducting a black mass, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them!”
Your mother chokes on her chicken, and your father gapes. You nudge him in the ribs, hard, but he continues. 
“Il mio tesoro is so devout…so eager to get on their knees and take communion…” he purrs, wrapping an arm around your waist. 
“Papa….!” you can’t help but giggle. The two of you kiss, and it is considerably less chaste than Papa I’s.  Both your parents are staring at you like you just stabbed the family pet. 
It all goes downhill from there. The breaking point is when everyone is washing up and Papa III passes your father, whispering something offhandedly as he goes to do his part.
“Your child calls me ‘daddy,’ too.”
Ten minutes later he’s nursing a black eye in the back of the limo, and you’re putting ice on it as one of the ghouls drive you home. But Papa III is laughing his head off, and honestly? You’re smiling as well. 
“Did–did you see the look on his face, carina? Oh! It was priceless! Hahaha!”
“I hope you enjoyed that…this is definitely going to bruise…”
“Worth it.”
Cardinal Copia:
He’s very nervous, honestly. Copia is painfully aware of your parents’ expectations, and that Christianity and Theistic Satanism do not mix well!
But you tell him not to worry so much. You’re just going so they get off your case for awhile. He doesn’t have to impress them. 
Dresses impeccably, greets your parents awkwardly but respectfully, and even bows his head during grace (while internally apologizing to Lucifer and hoping He’ll forgive him). 
He manages to be vague enough on his job and what he does that your parents don’t catch onto him. Honestly? They don’t hate him, which is saying something. 
They don’t think he has a great personality, but he is a Cardinal…a respectful position. Copia can live with that.
It’s when they start picking at you that he has a problem.
Listening to your parents make sly jabs at you and nitpicking about everything you do infuriates him. Lucifer help them if they get started on your weight. 
You learned a long time ago to just grit your teeth and bear it, but it still hurts. And Copia can see that. 
It gets to the point where he begins to speak up when they do it. “Well, I think mio topolino looks fine the way they are.”
“I think they’re at just the right size.”
“Wasn’t there something in the Bible about not judging others?”
You gape when he pulls that one out. His voice is sharp, his eyes are narrow, and the levels of passive-aggression are off the charts. 
It startles the hell out of your parents, too. Your mother would weakly claim they’re just trying to help, only to be cut off by Copia again.
“No. No, no no. You are not helping. You are being condescending.” 
He’s trembling, but glaring at the pair of them. He doesn’t stop there.
“This person is the most kind, wonderful, loving angelo I have ever met, and they are not enough for you? You don’t even deserve to bask in their presence!”
He slams down his silverware, making everyone at the table jump.
“Come, topolino.” He gathers you in his arms and escorts you out the door. “We have better things to do.”
By the time you’re in the car, Copia is breathing heavily running a hand through his hair, and you’re staring in awe at your boyfriend. 
“…holy shit…” you murmur.
Copia nods, gulping.
“Copia…you…you didn’t have to say all of that for me…”
“Yes. Yes I did.” He looks over at you, looking you right in the eyes. “I meant every word. Tu sei il mio mondo, topolino.”
An overwhelming wave of love for this man washes over you. You pull him into a deep, passionate kiss, one that he readily reciprocates. 
He means the world to you.
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