#✧ — ( out of dark magic )

[mooreaux]

The lich’s wife pt2, a stroll around the Necropolis 💚

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love love all your writings!!

I like your depictions of John Constantine.

I'd like to see you write the sad trenchcoat persona as just that a persona in the same fashion as how Brucie Wayne is a persona.

Maybe he's been the de-aged Danny/Dannies father for years and is an actual functional adult. The sad trenchcoat is just used to keep people from calling on him to frequently because he's a dad and has dad-like things to do.

He could help tim with the time stream thing, like 'oh, yeah that does look like Bruce. Alright kid pack a bag we're going in the time stream I know a guy. No Nightwing I'm not joking this looks like solid proof'.

Maybe Bruce has a oh shit he's actually competent and could kill me, that's hot moment. (Kids I have found your other father, help me get him home)

"I would love to offer more of my time to waste on monitor duty, but I have a previous engagement. A particular fit lady needs help getting her dress on the floor. The cloth always gets stuck on her horns. " John leers, wagging his eyebrows at the grimaces his words cause.

He takes a puff of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke like a drowning man. He never smokes at home, not with Danny's sensitive lungs or Dani's general disgust at smoking, so he only had the chance when called away on missions.

Plus, Danny was trying out for ballet soon, and he wasn't going to ruin his son's chances of being a star because of his own poor habits.

It helped that the rest of the heroes believed he was consistently pumping nicotine into his system. Rather irresponsible for the hero to publicly commit frowned-upon activities - at least in the States. Back home, no one cared that much.

It didn't matter that the Justice League was a global team; the main hard hitters and founders were nearly all American, and they tended to uphold those social expectations, either subconsciously or not.

One more reason why they shouldn't bother John, he can't have him smoking at a big awards ceremony or seen going through an entire pack of cigarettes mid-fight. Oh no.

John Constantine was one of the best magic users of this universe, but he was a last resort. There were plenty of other magic users like Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Zatara, or even Etrigan that came to mind first.

John was likely too busy drowning his misery in bottles or the arms of any willing partner. That's what they all thought.

Or more importantly than what he wanted them to think.

"Well, this has been a time." He announces, snapping his fingers to open a portal to his house. "But I have to run. My lady needs a knowledgeable hand to help her-"

"Enough," Batman growls. Though he has complete control over his emotions, John can tell he's irritated by the meaningless detail. He smirks as the hero waves a hand, "Just go."

He offers the rest of the meeting room a cheeky two-finger salute as he struts out, letting the portal close behind him so his trench coat flares dramatically. It's a nice view, he's sure, but it's also unnecessarily showy, and he is sure at least three pairs of eyes are rolling at his exit.

A chuckle escapes his mouth, straightening from his slouch to properly stand straight and bend it far enough to pop. Goodness, his act always leaves him with a sore upper back; maybe he shouldn't hunch over so much, even if he was playing the part of a no-good punk.

John only had a few seconds to shiver at his own thoughts- he was a punk. A real one! He was in a band!- before he heard the tell-tell sign of a rapidly approaching double set of footsteps echo down the hall. He scrambles to fling his lit cigarette into a water portal, chucking the pack for double security, while summoning a random suitcase from thin air.

All that's left is his rather eye-catching coat, a little too worn down and old to work well with his well-put-together outfit underneath. Without it, John has a clean, pressed white shirt, a respectful tie, and a pair of slacks that make more than one head turn as he walks.

All in all, he looks like the office businessman his worthless father always wanted to be.

John throws off his coat over a chair at the same time the door is thrown open with a pair of excited yells. "Welcome home, Dad!"

A grin stretched across his face before he could think about it, feeling his heart swell at the sight of them, as he knelt down, arms open wide. Two tiny bodies slam into him without a second of hesitation, nearly knocking John backwards.

He lets out a soft grunt as Dani's arms attempt to wrap around his left arm and right shoulder. She clashes against Danny, who's trying to bury himself into John's right side, little face squished against one of John's pecs, like a bunny burrowing into the snow.

"Hello, my little lambs!" He gushes, squeezing the kids close. "How was your day with the House of Mystery? Did you two behave?"

"They were angels," Black Orchid confirms, gliding into the room at a much slower pace. They had their regular, impassive expression on their faces, but John could tell that Orchid was happy with the kids by the way they gently tapped the tops of the children's black hair.

"Dad! Dad! Now that you're home, can we please go get my new ballet shoes?" Danny begs, bouncing on his toes.

For a moment, John doesn't see his son, but rather his own blue eyes staring up at his father, when he was also five, begging to join Lily, the next-door neighbor, in beginners' ballet class.

His father had beaten him nearly to death for wanting such a girly interest. It was the last time they spoke about it. It was also the last time John ever bothered asking to start new hobbies.

"Dad! Dad! Can I do Karate?" Dani asks then, snapping John from his memories better left buried, as she presses her check against her brother's in an attempt to get John's attention. "I want to break a board with my fist!"

He gives the children another squeeze, laughing at the squeals he gets. "Of course you can do karate, little lamb. We're going to get your brother his shoes, and then I'll find a gym that offers the classes at the same time."

"I already provided that service." Orchid cuts in, holding a flyer for Flying Graysons' gym, founded and run by the eldest Wayne in Gotham. "I took the liberty of signing Danny up for a class with Casnadra Wayne, and Dani will join Duke Thomas's class. It starts in a week."

"Plenty of time to go get them everything they need and a new book series for our bedtime stories," John announces, loosening his arms so his children can cheer and bounce up and down in excitement. His knee is starting to cramp up, but he ignores it so he can hold his kids.

It's moments like these, so small and mundane, that John is grateful he thought of his persona. When he first learned how to use the magic he was gifted, he always made himself available for any crisis.

This was before the Justice League days, so anyone who sought him out was familiar with the occult world. He adored helping, and he built an incredible amount of skill and knowledge in magic, but soon John was facing disaster after disaster, dragging his exhausted body from one place to another.

Those who came searching for him never cared. They wanted John to jump at the drop of a hat. He tried for years to always be ready, always be willing, but years of isolation and desperate battles tried him to the core.

Then he took in Danny and Dani, finding the pair of babies in a basket at the feet of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He had gone to investigate the legends of the famous King Pariah Dark, only to find what he assumed were originally sacrifices, well and truly alive.

Their names were attached to their feet with a letter written by a Jazz Fenton begging the two to grow and live well. She had died to save them. In her honor, John kept their names.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton and Danielle "Dani" Fenton. He often wondered what Jazz had been to the kids, with their identical last names. It is a question he will never get the answer to.

They could have been no older than five months, but when they opened their eyes and reached up for him, John realized he no longer wanted to be the go-to man of magic.

He wanted to be their father.

To discourage people from calling him away from his children, John created his persona of a man barely honorable enough to join a team. Over the five years of his raising his kids, his reputation plummeted until only Batman called to him unless absolutely necessary.

It was a breath of fresh air. John had fought for too long and too hard. He was retired now, just like his band days, the days when John would speed off to save the world were behind him. He only stepped in if a friend asked for a favor.

He had other priorities now.

The best part? The Justice League would never know that.

"Dad!" Dani screamed into his ear, making him grimace.

"Inside voice, darling."

"Sorry." She twirls her fingers, a nervous habit she picked up from John, before brightening up "I'm just super excited. Orichad said Mr. Bruce Wayne will be at the gym! Do you think he'll sign my Wayne Space shirt?"

Ah, yes, the man who was funding some space program or another. He only knew about this because his twins adored anything to do with space travel, as if though he couldn't just teleport them to a different planet.

"I'm sure he will, darling."

[radiance1]

The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.

The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.

Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.

So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?

He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.

The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.

It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?

...

Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?

He'll give them some points for dedication, though.

Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.

The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.

----

Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.

For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).

It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.

Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!

He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.

And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.

Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.

It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.

At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.

So he answers and is gone with a pop.

Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.

Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.

Fuck.

Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.

So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.

The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.

Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.

The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.

Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.

[kwillow]

Jocosa gives her son lessons in wielding magic... though despite her best efforts, he grows up learning this particular lesson the hard way.

And, naturally, this was inspired by a question I was sent -- lore rambling below the cut.

Spells aren’t so cleanly divided into utility/combat/etc in this world. Chocodile has already made an excellent overview on how magic functions in Amaranthine, but the short of it is that a mage learn and use any type of magic, whether that be slinging lightning or moving objects or healing wounds or whatever else, but they require extensive knowledge of the forces at play, and it requires intense mental fortitude, quick calculations and precise control to wield it effectively.

Unfortunately, Theo is an inconsistent and erratic magic user. While he often uses magic for small, delicate tasks, like lighting candles or moving a book across a desk, channeling greater amounts of magic is a risky proposition. Theo's thought-scape is akin to a turbulent ocean or volcano about to erupt, and this is a detrimental quality when you need a clear, focused mind to keep your fireball in your hand instead of bursting all over your very flammable furniture.

When riled, as he would be in a combat situation, he’s as likely (or more likely) to get overloaded and immolate himself as he is his opponent. He has no compunctions about using magic for combat, in fact he'd relish the opportunity to use his innate "superiority" as a weapon against his "lessers" but it would be dangerous for him to try (which isn’t to say he wouldn’t attempt it out of desperation or impulsivity, but he'll suffer for it). After implanting the catalyst stone into his hand, his power is amplified -- but not his control. It might be safer for him to stick with weaponized pens.

The exception to Theo's issues with controlling magic is healing magic, which has become his specialty for good or for ill (ironically, more for ill). He wishes he could pluck the strings of pure magic, playing it like a harp as beautifully as his mother did, but for the life of him, he can’t seem to elevate himself above the crude matter of blood and bone.

[bluebeesknees]

Stop pitting two boyfailures against each other 😔✨

[starlight-eclipsed]

It never hurt to be careful. The last time Demise caught wind of Dark’s sharp tongue, he’d spent ten years in isolation sealed in a crystal at the bottom of the temple.

Hello everyone! This line (from chapter two of A Dark Among the Lights by @luckylectio over on AO3) has been on my mind for the last year, so I finally sat down and drew it :D

[that1notetaker]

HEY SNAPE REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME WHEN

A scene inspired by @wixenforever’s NottPott fic, The Burning of The Library. Its great, I love it, and I love the scenes Snape happens to be in and how he reacts to Harry and Theo’s friendship. Its like he forgot he had a best friend once huh? Hence this was born.

@jundsthoughts @wixenforever :))) I love Snape. He’s a right bastard and I would read all books from his Pov. Theo called Snape out once and it has not left him alone since. Let it simmer, he will get it…eventually. In his own, dark, miserable, Severus way.

[screechingfromthevoid]

AND ANOTHER THING

Dorian has always been super specific about his love for Orym.

In the threat scene Dorian says "I care about you more than this" which, I thought before I rewatched the scene, I was misremembering. I thought he really said "I care about you all more than this", making it about the collective, not wanting to leave the group. But no. He said he cared about Orym more than he cared about the crown.

Another thing I thought I misremembered was "no debts between us". For whatever reason I thought Dorian said "no debts between friends" but no. He was very specific with his words and inflections. "There are no debts between us"

"my heart aches that I cannot be there to help you" "sending you fairer winds" "I just like to see you happy" "you're the reason I'm here" "let me comfort you for once."

It has always been about Orym. It has been. It always will be.

[aurosoulart]

alright. that's it. technology has gone too far

[stormingfrost]

Kinda obsessed with the historical context of Rise of the Guardians. Pitch wanting the Dark Ages to come back, which historically was the decline of culture and records. The Guardians rose at the same time as the Renaissance with the rise of culture, knowledge, and science. (Tooth in particular mentions that she hasn’t been out in the field for 440 years, give or take, which would put that smack dab in the middle of the Renaissance) 

The way Pitch doesn’t want the world to change, the way the Guardians change in tune with the world. The way Jack, who lived in has a human in the 17th or 18th century, who lived in the time after the Renaissance and lived witnessing the world all the way to the modern era, is there to show the Guardians how much they missed and how they can further change and improve for the more modern world. These characters are immortal beings who have so much power over the world, it makes so much sense that when they fall and rise in power it impacts the world that they want to influence, for better or for worse. 

[golden-letters]

mum says loved ones who have passed on returns to visit in dreams on the seventh day since their death. it was your seventh day last night. i dreamt of you. i find it poetic and so, so, so sad. i ran to you and hugged you. i lifted you up. i told you we love you and i hope you know it forever. i thought of you this morning in the car. i wept when one of your favourite songs came on. i cried when my mum told me that loved ones who have passed on returns to visit in dreams on the seventh day since their death. i can’t believe it’s been a week.

[kyngsley01]

‼️SUGGESTIVE SHADOWVANILLA‼️ if you click the fucking button it’s your funeral!!

[anna-scribbles]

they should've been at the club(infertility treatment centers)

[ganondoodle]

did a little sketch yesterday that i really liked and tried to get it done today just so i got literally anything to post- but i fell into the trap of 'making sketches to elaborate and thus really stiff and non fun' (for me), ... soooooo .. im redoing the whole thing

but the idea was a mummy ganondorf for my (yes still existing) totk rewrite; i wanted to make him more scary looking and also emphasize just how horrid it must be to be kept in between life and death by having your heart grabbed by a cold and vengeful magical hand for thousands of years (in this case the ancient queen .. which i also tried to sketch despite not showing up aside from her dissolving hand)

the spell starting to fail and his body being more damaged in some parts (jaw being only the bones left for example) and his chest open from being slowly eaten up by the queens magic, the ribs contorting around it like its a gravitational pull- sounds cooler than it looks bc this sketch did not work out, so im saving the details for the .. hopefully, better version

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[one-hit-boy-wonder]

Billy’s allowed to sit on the throne in the rock of eternity there’s just also another perfectly rectangular rock over his head to remind him that if he ever gets to full of himself and tries to take more then he was given, well… there’s a reason they call him the world’s mightiest mortal