#and constantine doesn’t know how to explain that to him so he just… doesn’t.

[stars-obsession-pit]

(Another) Ghost in the Machine

DP x Hellblazer (the original John Constantine comic)

Ritchie Simpson continued to search frantically for the connection out of the computer and back to his body as he begged John to explain what he meant by saying “Goodbye.”

Had John disconnected him? He knew John’s sense of humor wasn’t the lightest, especially after Newcastle drove them all a bit insane, but that felt too far even for him. Nah, he’d probably just gotten himself a bit lost in the wave of energy he’d experienced in the Tongues of Fire network and was accidentally looking for his body in the wrong spot.

He pulled himself back and let his mental connection to the digital world expand outward, probing the rest of the machine for the connection. He knew he was in the right system, so as long as he looked thoroughly he’d definitely fi—

Everything flashed a surge of blinding white and then was replaced by pure darkness. He thought he screamed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. Couldn’t even feel his own thoughts. Trapped in one single instant that stretched for indeterminable eons. Then, eventually (or was it immediately?), awareness began to trickle back.

He was still in the computer, though it felt… different, somehow. His thoughts still weren’t entirely in order. The first possible hints towards his location he found were the sound voices trickling through from the outside world. Voices he didn’t recognize. Young voices.

“I’m happy to help, Tuck, but I’m not really sure what you expect me to do here. You’re way better than me at this computer stuff than me.”

“By all means, feel free to keep complimenting me, but this has been frying my brain, man. I got this thing secondhand, and the system should be quite powerful, but there’s something using up a ton of its processing and I can’t figure out what. I was hoping you could do your ‘enter into the computer’ thing and see if you see anything.”

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfamily x batbro male reader

Reader is a magic user (like the scarlet witch), he often uses his powers during his normal day to day life too

He’s constantly found levitating off the ground while meditating, reading his spell book and using his powers to do simple things like making his bed etc

However his powers has a side effect, his powers hurt him sometimes as every time his emotionally unstable or upset his powers can take over but the rest of the family doesn’t know cause he never told them he simply cuddled up to them

One day after a bad argument the pain was too much to hold in and he desperately needed to let go of his powers to get rid of the energy

However he couldn’t do that cause it could damage the manor and hurt the others so he tries to hold it in trying to deal with the pain

He walked into the manor and looked for the first person he could find and simply hugged them

They knew his love language was physical affection but they never knew it went so far as to stop him from having a magical melt down

He tries to explained the issue to whoever he was holding on too and they started praising him and rubbing his back trying to make him calm down till they get to an open space where he can let go

Okay, that sounds cool. And lowkey Bruce coded.

Summary: (Y/N)'s magic is complicated.

Warnings: none really, mentions of an argument.

(Y/N)'s powers are something that he was born with, since his mother shared the same powers. Unfortunately, his mother passed away and (Y/N) came to live with Bruce and the rest of the family. And since Bruce didn't know anything about magic, he called in John Constantine and Zatanna to help him navigate his magical powers. They've been doing it since he was a child and by the time he reached his teen years, he could control his powers.

But magic is not without any consequence. Sometimes, his powers can hurt physically. And his emotional stability is important here. If (Y/N) gets upset, angry or anything else that causes emotional instability, they can come out. And not in a good way. His powers could get devastating and could hurt someone. Thankfully, (Y/N) had a good remedy for it. Cuddling up to his family to calm his nerves.

He never told his family that. However, it made for a good practice to control his emotions. But sometimes emotions can overwhelm a person, no matter how hard they try to control. Bruce knew that something was going on with (Y/N)'s magic, but he choose not to dwell on it. He knew that (Y/N) had a control on it and whatnot, but still.

Bruce is not particularly well versed in magic so he allows (Y/N) to make decisions on that part. And besides, magic is fun to look at. (Y/N) more often than not can be found using his magic in everyday life. Whether it be making his bed, getting a cup of whatever from the kitchen without even getting up from the couch.

But the one thing that the entire family can agree on is the fact that when he is meditating, he levitates, a spell book near him, also levitating, is creepy beyond belief. According to the others. Bruce tried not to be freaked out whenever he saw it, but it was hard not to be. Bruce was both fascinated and kind of scared.

The rest of the boys have shared the same sentiment. It was a fascinating power that (Y/N) possessed, but scary at the same time. And of course, who could say no to cuddles that (Y/N) asked for? Not even Damian could say no to (Y/N)'s cuddles. Not even Damian, the person who despises affection, can't say no to his cuddles. Dick would await the entire day just for those cuddles.

(Y/N) loved his family to bits because of their acceptance, no matter how weird he might look when doing magic. And Bruce has a magic consultant at home, which is great. You never know when magic can pop up in Gotham City. Anything can happen in Gotham City and that was something that every single Gothamite lived by.

Anything can happen in Gotham.

(Y/N) was driving home, pissed beyond belief. His high school classes were done and he got into a bad argument with his friend. He knew that his magic would explode, sooner or later if he didn't find his family in the manor. Something has been brewing in (Y/N) from the moment his woke up. He didn't know why he was feeling that way today.

But something boiled over during the argument and his magic was just itching to get out. And he knew he should let it out. He knows he should. But that would devastate a lot of space. So, cuddles are the only option he has left at this point in time. He parked the car in record time and rushed into the manor, looking for someone who could help him.

That someone was Bruce. (Y/N) didn't expect to see him. He thought that he was at work.

" (Y/N)? You seem stressed, are you okay? " Bruce asked, worried about his son.

(Y/N) didn't say anything, simply buried his face into Bruce's chest and Bruce hugged him. Bruce squeezed back tightly, not knowing what's really going on, but (Y/N)'s love language is physical touch so Bruce didn't really find it to be odd. And besides, he likes these moments.

" Sorry dad, I just needed a hug. "

" Never apologize for needing a hug. Or any affection. Okay? " Bruce murmured softly.

" It's... More complicated than that dad. It's connected to my magic. "

Bruce frowned at that, confused as to what he could mean by that.

" What do you mean? "

" My magic is tied to my emotions. If I get any negative emotions, my magic flares up and itches to be released and it can be devastating. I can hurt people. When that happens, I look for you or my brothers to get cuddles, " (Y/N) murmurs, explaining to Bruce, who nodded in understanding.

He start rubbing (Y/N)'s back softly.

" You did good (Y/N). It can't be easy to control so much magic, but you are doing well. Just relax, breathe in and out and anger and frustration will simply roll out. Okay? "

(Y/N) nodded and Bruce simply continued his praises to his son. " Also, the manor is a space where you can let go okay? This is a safe space for you. Although, I would like to keep the manor intact, " Bruce joked and (Y/N) laughed with him.

" I know, I would like to keep this manor intact as well dad. "

" But in all seriousness, " Bruce began, still rubbing his back, " This manor is a space where you can be safe. Feel safe. Where you can do your magic freely. And if there ever is a time where you feel like your magic is itching to get out, feel free to seek us out, okay? Don't hesitate, " Bruce said as he still rubbed (Y/N)'s back.

" I know that dad, I know. "

" Just making sure kiddo. Also, John Constantine might drop by soon enough. He says he has a new spell book for you, saying you will like this one too. Now, are you hungry? " Bruce asked as he lead (Y/N) to the kitchen.

" I am. Also, why are you home so early? " (Y/N) wondered, knowing that Bruce wouldn't be home this early.

" A big meeting got cancelled, so I came home. Now, sit down. Alfred made some great Shepherd's pie. " Bruce gently sat (Y/N) down at the kitchen island.

Soon enough, his brothers came home, tired and hungry. Dick was surprised to see Bruce home early, but didn't question it, simply sitting down as well.

" Hey B, didn't think you would be home so early. "

The conversation flowed from there and slowly everyone came home. Damian, Tim and Jason all showed various stages of shock. Damian simply nodded, Jason raised his brow and Tim let out a hum as they all sat down, hungry and ready to down some food. It's no easy task feeding 5 boys.

During the conversation, (Y/N) opened up to his brothers about his emotions and connections to magic, essentially repeating what he told Bruce about his magic. Everyone understood and knew that if (Y/N) needs cuddles, they are going to listen.

They don't want their home to be devastated by magic. They like this manor, believe it or not.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Mark grayson x male reader with the powers of john Constantine? Maybe Mark on a mission involving demons and after some trouble Cecil reluctantly decides to call the reader for help

Mark Grayson x Constantine Male Reader

Headcanons

Guess who’s been ignoring his exam prep and watching YouTube instead? This guy. Reader is also a little older than the other characters, but how much older you can choose for yourself.

Demons weren’t something completely out of the norm for the heroes of this world. Way too many so called villains would summon low grade demons and imps to wreak havoc. Very few were actually able to summon sentient and powerful beings.

Invincible had been sent in since theyd just thought it would be like every other weak magician who thought they could take over the world. That was until the demon that appeared was actually one of the well-known demons from the bible.

Other heroes were called in, like the newer guardians of the globe. But even they didn’t stand a chance against this demon, who was getting a little too close to civilization for the GDAs comfort.

As much as Cecil hates it, he knows he has to call you. You’ve never had any respect for the GDA, for the government, and had always insulted heroes to their face, calling them government bootlickers and the likes.

Cecil would have locked you away a while ago, if you weren’t so damn good at what you did. There was also the fact that he, and the magicians he had on hand, were pretty damn sure you could unleash hell itself on earth if you wanted, so they were cautious.

You also just happen to be kind of a dick, though mainly to Cecil. For some reason you’ve always gotten along well with Donald for a reason the GDA doesn’t understand. You just know he’s a great guy though, which is why you’ll treat him a little better.

So with great reluctance, since he knows youre gonna be rubbing this in his face and ribbing him, Cecil contacts you. He would most likely have to use some kind of spell or sigil, since there’s no way you’d share your number with this guy, or pick up if he called.

The guardians of the globe and Mark aren’t really sure what to expect when they hear Cecil sigh over their earpieces. He sounds more exhausted and agitated than any of them have ever made him, which says a lot.

Cecil barely gets to explain who you are before you swagger out of a portal in your trench coat and a to-go coffee cup in your hand with your preferred drink.

Immortal and Robot are probably the only ones who know who you are. Immortal cuz hes worked with you in the past, and Robot cuz he’s a creep that knows too much, and there’s no way he wouldn’t know about someone as powerful as you.

The heroes would already be over your shit, since you paid way too much for this drink to let it go to waste. So, you are gonna stand here, and you are gonna finish your drink, and then you are gonna help.

Mark must acknowledge that you are pretty hot, with your exhausted features and the tired but knowing look in your eyes. Its like you know exactly what you are looking at, and like you know exactly what to do.

The heroes get thrown around a bit more, just for your own humor and cuz you know they can take it. them yelling at you in frustration just makes you pick at your nails and sass them, telling them you came here out of the goodness of your heart, and you feel so attacked right now?

Its only when Mark crashes into the ground right beside you, and this cute traffic light yellow guy with cracked goggles and a bloody nose politely asks you to help that you decide, sure, why not. It’s also definitely because of the cute pout on his lips and the puppy eyes he’s giving you form the crater he’s in.

You give him what’s left of your too expensive drink, telling him some flirty comment about “watch and learn, invincible”. You make air quotes with your fingers when you use his hero name, since nobody is invincible, even viltrumites. You know this since you’ve stumbled across quite a lot of them in hell over the years.

His small blush is very cute though, which makes you decide to wrap this up real quick.

To none of Cecil’s surprise. You know this demon, and it owes you a pretty big favor. You don’t use your favor obviously, why would you do that? Theres better things to use a demons favor for. Instead, you just use a good chunk of spells, sigils, and other magic arts to cast them back to hell.

Cue some complaining from multiple members of the guardians of the globe. If you could do that from the very beginning, why did you keep watching them get thrown around like that?

As they complain and argue around you, you just swagger back to where Mark was sitting cutely and sipping on your drink. It shouldn’t shock you a guy like him likes whatever sweet monstrosity you bought. Fits his cute smile at least.

Immortal doesn’t even argue with you, knowing its like talking to a damn wall. Except the wall claps back, and will be petty enough not to help you next time.

It also doesn’t shock Cecil when you ask Mark out for lunch, since you’re a known flirt. You also may be a flirt, but you are damn loyal, so he can’t even say to Mark you’re a bad partner.

Marks eyes widen comically, sputtering around the drink he had been nursing when you just dropped that on him. His face goes bright red, since no one has ever actually asked him out, especially so boldly.

He fumbles for a bit, but he does end up stuttering out a yes. He doesn’t know you too well yet, and neither do you know him, but what could lunch together hurt? So he ends up clutching your number, and sigil, on a piece of paper in his hand, as you portal away again.

The place is still a damn mess from the demon’s rampage, but Mark feels extra weightless as he helps clean up, not even really paying attention to some of the others complaining about how you left without helping clean up.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple

@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4

It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.

Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.

Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.

“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.

But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.

“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).

The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”

“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.

All in all it was a cheerful success.

It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.

“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.

That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.

“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.

“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”

“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”

“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.

John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.

“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”

“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.

John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”

“Sorry,” Danny whispered.

“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”

“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”

“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.

“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”

“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”

“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.

John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”

“Robin,” Batman called.

Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.

“Yes, B?”

“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”

“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”

Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.

“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.

“So worried,” Flash said.

“Hn,” Batman added.

“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.

-

“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.

Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.

“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.

John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”

Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.

“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.

It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”

No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.

“Nearly five years.”

John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”

“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”

“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.

John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.

“Yeah… yeah I am.”

---

AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.

If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I have a migraine so here’s thoughts! If you see mistake no you don’t my brain is totally working normal and so good so shut your mouths 👍

Marvel has to arrest a circus lion for tax evasion right before the big show and the clowns are devastated so he puts tawny in a blonde wig to take over. he’s the most fabulous and gender neutral circus lion there ever has been.

Billy doesn’t know how to floss and is too embarrassed to ask anyone so he asks John Constantine because he’s the only person whose opinion of him means nothing to him. John refuses until he sees Billy try, then he’s so shocked by his utter lack of understanding that he starts explaining out of befuddlement without realizing he’s actually teaching the kid and Billy leaves satisfied

Billy is a good boy who eats his greens but he can’t afford them from the store so he just eats grass because no one taught him that he can only eat specific greens. He tried to eat green arrows hat once but choked on the feather and decided to only eat natural greens like grass because he heard people say organic greens are better on the news once

Billy sometimes gets migraines from not eating enough or by eating questionable things that make him act loopy and sometimes people think he’s high but he’s NOT he swears he’s not guys guys he’s not high stop he’s not- Mary stop laughing at him the noise hurts his head and he’s NOT HIGH-

Sometimes marvel will accidentally say something that means something inappropriate without realizing, like calling someone an ‘escort’ to mean someone who takes you places but the JL giggle because they know he has no idea what he just implied and it’s hilarious

Mary and Freddy sometimes work together to prank Billy while in their hero forms because he can’t retaliate when people think he’s their dad and they get to absolutely devastate him with a magnificent prank without consequences. Or at least without magical/divine consequences, Billy will definitely prank them back once they’re back in their human forms

Hope these made sense! I’m going to sleep and hope my brain gets better and stops being a Jerkface McButthole

[ew-selfish-art]

Demon Twin AU 

Tim Drake comes across a LOA manuscript detailing the sacrifice of a Demon Heir that’s dated around the time Damian is born and brings it to the cave. There’s no other mention of what went down, but it looks like Damian was a twin and the twin was thrown into the Lazaras Pits- Tim kind of forgets about it but shows it to Damian cause he figures that the guy deserves to know, and leaves it out for Bruce to see (basically the same thing as telling him). It doesn’t really change much but there is an obscured name in the corner so they can presume that the kid’s name would have been something starting with D A N. 

Well here’s the thing: Names carry power. Damian reaches out to John Constantine to ensure that the child is actually dead, because presumably John can do that. John wants to give the kid some closure, so he does what is supposed to be a super chill seance to an infant. He pricks Robin’s finger, chants a little and the air... turns violent.

Uh oh. Dan appears, unshackled from his prison in the Infinite Realms now that John has called upon them by someone with Familial blood. He cackles madly about the fact that it’ll be a good time to bring about the apocalypse again, promising to spare the bird for now, since he would have to get answers later. 

The alarms are blaring, the whole JL is hands on deck to try and stop Dan as he attacks across the globe. They’re saving as many civilian lives as possible but its getting very HAIRY in less than 2 hrs. Robin is out in the chaos, trying to track him down with John and Zatanna trying to recapture him and banish him back to the realms. 

Phantom touches down just as the three of them reach Dan- Danny has some choice words for his older alternate timeline self, including “This is why you have no friends.” and “Seriously, you didn’t even stop to say hi to my timeline’s Jazz this time.” and “Soup time for 1,000 years and then we can talk remediation.” 

After a short but brutal fight, Danny floats over to Damian, John and Z. After making sure they’re all right he’s like “Maybe you can never do that again? Also tell me how and why you did that so I can banish that spell?” And Damian explains that it was meant to ensure that the infant twin he never knew had passed peacefully and clearly that was not the case. Danny blinks a few times, uh, a twin?

Damian goes through the shit, John explains that it was a familial summoning meant to be an advanced seance (hence the lack of safe guards to keep the entity in) and Z confirms that there was nothing special to it beyond that. 

Danny then explains, that uh, “I guess my parents weren’t kidding when they told me I was adopted. Hi? I’m your brother. Uh, I go by Danny though. Dan was me in a different timeline and he’s normally under super strict lockdown.” 

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Heyyy so I was thinking of how cool masquerade masks looks- and oh would you look at that a post

The Lady Of The Mask 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In a black and gold bedroom with a victorian style room was a boy in front of a black vanity putting on blush with a black and gold mask that is on a stand on the vanity the boy has long black hair with ice blue eyes

As he finished putting on blush and picked up the mask he started to think about how he got here and got the title of

•The Lady Of The Mask•

———————————————————

His parents turned him into the G.I.W hands after they found out they wanted them to “Fix” him and what good that did all he has from that place is scars and the memories after one of them was trying transport him to a different room when they thought he was out for the count, news flash he wasn’t he broke free of his restraints with a wail he had left and fled and kept flying until he found a natural portal and as he went through he closed it from the other side

As he looks around he noticed that instead of the random floating islands and green sky he was expecting he saw a large room with large mirrors that took up the wall and when he looked up he saw a picture of a part of space no living thing has ever been [and probably never will be]

That’s when he realized that wasn’t a natural portal when he comes to the realization he hears foot steps behind him as he turns he comes face to face with a tall woman wearing a long black rob over her body but the parts that were visible were a sickly green where her vines should be

She explains that she is The Lady of the mask and someone needs to take her place so when she saw him she chose him to take her place and take care of everything and gives him a black box with gold accents on it

And than she just leaves.

As Danny opens the box he sees a Gold mask with black accents with a note explaining what his new role is and what he has to do, he has to

Make sure deals are up held

Take care of the Manner

He can do that but at the end of the note he sees a single sentence

“Keep the Mask safe if you do it will keep you safe”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now onto the DC part of this thing!

Constantine needed to make a deal with the one person he really didn’t want too, the JL idiots messed with something they shouldn’t have had messed with now all of them have to fix this and for the person he doesn’t want to make a deal with is

The Lady of The Mask

The Lady as many call them is known to make sure that all deals made with them are up held and if not while no one really knows as no one has come back from whatever they did to them

Yet here he was making the summing circle for them all he can do to try to up hold his end of the deal

But at what cost?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Now onto my fav part the details!

For Danny I’m thinking something like this

With this as a second outfit if he’s not wearing this or fighting ( because he’s a badass bitch like that )

And for hair ( most of the time hidin under his hat) is this

And just cause here is what the manner looks like and the ballroom

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

And that’s about it for this one, I had a hard time with this one I had to redo the plot like three times lol and if anyone wants to use this or add on feel free to I kinda half-assed it at the end due to being tired

But I hope you all like it see you gremlins later byeeee

[millylotus]

Secret Son John Constantine

Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart

As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine

He’s making his parents proud

John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them

John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though

His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated

They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves

John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long

Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working

Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League

---

John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.

John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.

He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.

“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”

John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.

“Good to see you too Father.”

The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”

The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.

But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.

Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”

John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.

Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”

Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”

“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”

---

Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude

The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed

He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help

Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working

Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name

Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such

Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too

John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law

Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from

It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far

John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding

It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other

When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all

Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not

As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive

The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out

---

Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay

---

Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again

Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body

And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff

By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like

I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.

Hope you liked is! :]

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - VII

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence, trigger warning this chapter mentions pregnancy/death divider by animatedglittergraphics gif from pinterest-if yours ill gladly credit u

7.  hard to kill

Needless to say, you are too happy to retire early to the closet, having stolen his comforter and made a nest in which to curl up and feel sorry for yourself. You steal a towel too, expecting to cry. Perhaps it is a mercy, that they're only silent tears, for John as much as yourself. 

You lay there in pain, staring at the wall, until the rising sun brings you the merciful relief of sleep. 

When you wake, you find a note on the kitchen table that reads:

Gone to check on some things. Do NOT leave the building! My friend Beeman lives in the basement. Don’t eat him. Back soon. -John 

Would a please really kill him? 

He’s gone to check on Angela, you reason. The human girl he really wants to be with, but with whom he may only have very limited time. You are not sure which part of that hurts you more. 

The idea that he could be dying still doesn’t feel real to you. Aside from the coughing, he seemed so strong. You think about what he said about the bond you share, and how your own strength was probably the reason he was even still alive. 

You feel good, with dhampir blood still in you, but you reason it would be best to keep yourself fed, keep your energy up. You are in a part of town where you think it will be an easy thing to harvest the evil doer you require for your meal. 

You head out for a drink. 

♰♰♰

By the time you return to the bowling alley John still has not returned. Worried, you try to reach out through your connection, curious what he’s up to. You find it shut like a brick wall has been put up between you, and you sigh to yourself. 

Fine. Be that way. 

There’s nothing to do in this apartment. No books. No tv. You are still in your dress that you wore to the club the night before. It’s black, and doesn’t show it, but you can smell the splatters of blood on the fabric from your little misadventure at the club. You decide to take a bath, and maybe with a little spite, you use John’s toothbrush. 

Poking around for something clean to wear, you pick out one of John’s white shirts, which you swim in, and your undies from before. Maybe it will give him a laugh, when he gets home. You covet his mirth as much as his kisses, pathetic thing that you are. 

You sit at the kitchen table, staring at the cracked subway tiles and bored out of your skull. You are considering exploring the building just to kill some time, when you hear some thumping outside the door, and there’s a heavy knock. 

You freeze in your tracks. 

How did you not even hear the footsteps coming up the creaky stairs?

As you try to reason what could be out there with your undead heart pounding in your chest a deep voice calls, “I know you’re in there, vampling.” 

Fuck. 

You look around for something that you could use as a weapon against John Wick–and can’t help but feel like it's a hopeless endeavor. 

You just stand there silently, torn as to what to do.

“Still here, milaya,” he calls.

You're not sure why you feel embarrassed. “What do you want?” 

“I’ve brought your boyfriend a present.”

Double fuck. 

Does he need an invitation to enter, like a vampire does? One more thing John neglected to explain to you. You almost contradict that John Constantine is so not your boyfriend, but then you reason that might be the thing that kept John alive the night before.

Strangely…even if he is a vampire killer, you don’t really think the dhampir means you harm. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t scare you. 

Trembling in your bones, you go to open the door. 

John Wick is there, a tower in black, looking unfairly edible–with a vampire curled in a ball at his feet. “What the fuck?”

“Can we come in?”

“No.” 

It’s worth a shot. 

Wick rolls his eyes, and pushes past you, dragging the incapacitated vampire rather unceremoniously behind him. 

You guess that answers that question.  

Wick drops the vampire in a heap on the floor. You see that the unlucky bastard’s hands are bound with heavy metal cuffs behind his back, and a large silver knife protrudes from his chest. He’s seeping blood onto the floor, and you wonder if you should complain, or if it will make one bit of difference in this dump. 

“Where’s Constantine?” 

“He’s not here.” 

By the way Wick turns to look at you with sharpened interest, you wonder if you shouldn’t have admitted that. This is when he seems to really notice what you’re wearing, the corners of his lips curling in a little smile. 

Maybe Constantine’s oversized shirt fits you like a dress, but you realize you are showing quite a bit of leg. Rather pointlessly, you tug down the hemline–entirely too late. 

“What is this?” asks the dhampir, gesturing up and down with his chin at your ridiculous outfit, amused.

“I didn’t have any clothes here…” you defend, backing away as he slowly advances on you. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hunting.” He is still advancing towards you, slowly, and you continue to back away.

Hunting who, you’re afraid to ask.

When you pull one of the mismatched kitchen chairs into his path the vampire hunter looks at you with amusement, his eyes practically sparkling. But maybe he realizes that he’s scaring you, because he pauses in his tracks. “This vampire has some interesting information about don Juan’s plans. I need Constantine.”

“Why?”

“Because demons are not my specialty.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but it seems he is waiting for John to explain further. He looks around the crumbling apartment with a critical eye, clearly not impressed. “He lives like this?”

“It’s a safehouse,” you defend, though you have no idea why. “That worked well, obviously.” You frown up at him, which he seems to enjoy.

“It may have, with the wards on the door,” he answers, nodding towards the runes scratched into the jamb. “If you hadn’t left their protection. I tracked you.”

“You what?” The back of the rickety chair creaks under your grip.

“I’ve had your blood, you’ve had mine,” he says like that should be enough of an explanation. Then he inhales, his eyes sliding closed for the barest moment. “You had a good feed tonight. Ripe with blood. Care to share?” His fangs glint in the low light, and you extend the chair further before you. 

“No, we are not doing that again.”

This forbidding, lethal, terrifying man extends his full lower lip in a pout, and it’s so cute that you are dumbfounded.

“I thought we had fun last time.”

“You had all the fun.”

“I can return the favor,” he assures you with a lift of those unruly dark brows, and goddam if suddenly you are holding the chair for support, because your knees have gone weak beneath you. 

Do not look at his mouth.

You can’t help it, and it is lush, and well-formed, and curled into a shit-eating smirk.

A sharp crack fills the apartment, and only a moment later do you realize you broke the chair.

“Someone’s pent up. Poor darling.”

He advances on you again, and you flee to the other side of the table. That sweet scent of flowers and spices has started filling the room between you, and a fine tremor starts in your core, making its way straight to your loins. “Stop that.”

“I will if you will,” he invites, bracing himself upon the table as though he might leap over it. “It isn’t just me.”

“What…is it?” you ask through gritted teeth, clenching your fists against the urge to go to him, to wrap yourself around him and climb him like an oak.

“A long time ago…my wife used to pick a little white flower in the meadow near our izba. She loved their scent. That is what you smell like to me, milaya. Light and fresh as spring. Who are you?”

But all you can do is shake your head, suddenly so weak that you have to sit. “How long ago?”

“Three hundred years? Give or take.” He makes a this or that gesture, and you are distracted by the sheer size of his hands, those elegant long fingers waving. 

The scope of such a timespan lived by one man is still dizzying to you.

“What happened to her?”

“I killed her.”

Your eyes fly wide with shock, perhaps because he clearly worshiped the ground this woman walked on. “What? Why?”

“The usual way. Something went wrong with the birth of our daughter. She was born dead, and took her mother with her.” He looks at the wall while he tells you this, almost as though he is recounting a story that happened to someone else. “I should have known that nothing living could be created by something half dead like me. I tried to follow them…but I am hard to kill.”

“Jesus. I’m so sorry.” 

He nods, and turns his stare at you, that piercing dark gaze holding all the weight of the world.

“You are lucky you needn’t worry of such things any more.”

“Excuse you? You don’t know anything about me. I wouldn’t call being taken and turned into this lucky.”

“Then you wanted children with John Constantine?”

He seems to have no problem with asking you such a personal question, and the leap of this logic gives you whiplash. “No, that would be…fucking insane.”

He smirks at you, as though he’s proved a point. You, on the other hand, aren't even sure what you're arguing about anymore. 

Before you can tell him off though, he changes tack again, looking around the dilapidated space with a raised eyebrow. “So this is how he keeps you? You like this?”

“I told you…we don’t live here.” 

He takes a deep sniff of the air, continuing to walk around. “It smells like he lives here.” 

You frown at this, open your mouth to argue, then shut it again. You think about all the clothes John has stored here. Has he been living here for the past month, to avoid running in to you? No wonder he was able to ghost you so perfectly. 

You’re not sure why it surprises you at this point, but it still feels like being stabbed. You press a hand over your chest absently, willing it to stop hurting all the time. Jesus fucking christ, it would be nice to have some relief from this grief you’ve ultimately caused yourself. 

Wick watches you with eagle-sharp eyes as you process this, a small frown pulling between his brows. “I don’t think I like the way this stupid boy treats you, zolotse. If you were mine, I would keep you in comfort, and you would know how much you are adored every day.”

You have to keep reminding yourself that you do not know this man. That words like this from a total stranger are borderline crazy, and you should not be so charmed by them as you are. 

“Please…stop,” you beg him, hiding your face in your hands. Where the fuck is Constantine? He really needs to come back now. You reach out to him again, trying to convey some sense of urgency, but find the invisible thread between you is still blocked on his end. Turd.

 “We do not know each other.” 

“That’s not what it feels like,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at him, you hear the shrug in his voice. You feel him near closer, and you tell yourself that you stay put because it’s ridiculous to run around the kitchen table like he couldn’t catch you any time he really wanted to, and not because…you like the feeling of his solid warmth at your side. For a man who claims he’s half dead…he feels very alive, and your every nerve ending stands at attention with John Wick at your elbow.  

“Because there is something about you, something out the corner of the eye, and the way you hold your head, and the way you talk back to me so bravely when you know I could break you in two…I feel like I know you, vampling.”

“Well…you have lived a very long time.” You try to explain it away, but you can tell just by his eyes that he’s not having it. 

“The longer you live, the more you know…the more you realize you don’t know. But things do seem to move in circles.” He dares to touch you, just your hair, very lightly fingering the strands still half-damp from your bath. “You should come back to New York with me.”

You really do need your head checked, because for the barest second–you are sorely tempted. You are more angry with yourself than him when you snap, “Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?”

“I feel that I have waited lifetimes for you, milaya.” 

He leans over your seated form, engulfing you with the breath of his chest, his muscle-corded arm braced upon the table. With one of those agonizingly large hands he turns your face up to look at him, not allowing you to hide any longer. Those piercing dark eyes gaze right into your soul, and that intoxicating infusion of spiced sweetness engulfs you again. A warm, fuzzy certainty settles over you: what is the point in fighting him? This man, in whose arms you belong?

 This is the moment John Constantine choses to burst through the door, and chaos erupts above the BOWL BOWL BOWL. 

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

*izba - cabin made of pine logs, often with ornate little details on the outside around the windows. 

[in1-nutshell]

May I request a sayain buddy whose like goku and loves fighting and eating and is always up for a good challenge, and can the interaction be with young justice acting as their wild-card if things go south.

First time writing for this kind of Buddy, lets do this!

Hope you enjoy!

Buddy the Half Saiyan and meeting the Young Justice

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Half Saiyan Buddy

YOUNG JUSTICE

It was Constantine’s fault.

Scratch that, Constantine and Zatara’s fault.

The League had contacted them both to help with a mission that required to summon ‘help’.

Constantine and Zatara were trying to do the spell, but their bickering and arguing messed the spell up.

And out popped a dizzy 10-year-old with a strange hair style on the floor.

Buddy rubs his head as he tries to sit up. Zatara: “Look what you did Constantine!” Constantine: “Look what I did!? You’re the one who—” Buddy: “Umm, excuse me?” Both men look at the slightly frightened boy. Buddy: “Do you know where I am? One minute I was with my brother and Mr. Piccolo and the next I’m here.” Zatara: “Mr. Piccolo?” Constantine looks lost in thought before his eyes widen. He walks over and offers the boy his hand. The boy looks at the hand curiously before taking it. Constantine: “What’s your name kid?” Buddy smiles a bit. Buddy: “I’m Son Buddy!” Constanine: “… Son Buddy… As in Son Goku?” Buddy smile widens. Buddy: “Yeah! You know him?” Constantine: “… Oh Fu—” Zatara: “Constantine! Wait how do you know his name? And know who Goku is?” Constantine: “My personal life is my personal life, Zatara.”

The two men explain to Buddy that he was accidentally sent to their world from his.

IN their world, his world was simply a manga, a comic.

They are a bit surprised that Buddy does take the news… a bit well.

Yes, the boy does freak out a bit, but not because he was in a new universe.

Buddy was worried for his family and friends that would soon need to fight the Andriod’s.

They needed all hands-on deck!

They needed him!

It was at that moment that Batman and some of the other Leaguers came in.

Buddy is just confused as more people in funny looking costumes come in.

He gets a bit wary feeling certain power levels, but most of them seem nice enough.

One of them, Batman he thinks, tells him that until he could get back home, he was going to have to stay with the Young Justice.

Meanwhile with the team…

Everyone is wondering who Batman is bringing in and why to, and quote, ‘Don’t fangirl’, for some reason.

After initial introductions (and making sure certain members did not crowd the poor boy) Buddy starts making friends almost instantly.

Aqualad was a bit curious when Batman brought a 10-year-old to the cave.

But that didn’t stop him from being as polite as possible.

He does not know what to do with the kid when he takes a moment to size them up.

It made him feel a bit uneasy, but soon Buddy smiled and waved at the group.

The Atlantean has seen fast eating before, he has Wally as a teammate.

But NEVER had he seen someone eat so much and so fast before.

Kaldur doesn’t understand when Wally and Dick tell him NOT to spar with Buddy, to leave that to Connor.

… But he could not resist those puppy dog eyes.

It was a trap.

Kaldur is on the ground, eagle spread and feeling the pain. Buddy is just sitting on his chest looking at him curiously. Buddy: “You, okay? I didn’t hurt you too bad with the warmup right?” Kaldur: “I am fine—did you say warm up?” Buddy grins as he hops off Kaldur’s chest while stretching a bit. Buddy: “Yeah! When are we going to start the real fight?!” Wally has a bucket of popcorn and watching the entire thing. Wally: “Buddy, I think the only one here that could beat you right now is Connor.” Buddy stops stretching a bit before thinking. Buddy: “Makes sense, he does have a higher power level than you guys.” Kaldur: “What’s a power level?”

Connor does not know what to think of this little boy.

He does his best to not interact with him.

Little kids= weak right?

Connor told this to Robin, and he still hasn’t stopped laughing.

Isn’t too phased by the sudden appetite the kid has.

I mean he’s seen Wally eat fast too, what’s the problem?

…Gets a bit concern when he learns that is not normal for human behavior.

Only starts to get close when Buddy tells the group that he is half human and half Saiyan.

Another not fully alien in the team, he’ll keep an eye out for him.

Is borderline annoyed when Buddy keeps on asking him to fight.

Superboy snaps as his fist goes to punch Buddy in the face. Buddy only stands in place as the fist in only smushing part of his cheek. Connor gives him a surprised look while Buddy only smirks. Buddy: “Finally, a real fight! Come get me Connor!” Connor lunges forward but narrowly miss the 10 year old’s body and is kicked in the back. Buddy: “And stop holding back!” Wally and Robin are watching intently from the sidelines. Wally: “This is the greatest day of my life.” Robin: “Do you think he’d fight Superman?” Wally: “Not in base form, maybe Super Saiyan or Super Saiyan 2.”

Connor did prove to be much more of a challenge than the others.

He even made the half Saiyan put in a bit more strength and a couple of Ki blasts when things got a bit hairy.

Connor gets his behind served time and time again.

But the pair have bonded and that’s what counts.

M’gann loves the little boy.

Even more when she hears he is part alien.

The Martian is the nicest of the group.

She reminds Buddy a bit of Mrs. Briefs.

M’gann has used her shapeshifting abilities to change her hair to look like Buddy’s.

Is happy to cook anything for Buddy.

M’gann pulls out a tray of slightly burnt cookies. M’gann: “Would anyone want more?” Most of the team groans with funny stomachs… except Buddy. Buddy: “Yes please!” Connor: “How!?”

Artemis, Dick and Wally are the first ones to know right off the bat who Buddy is.

Dick and Wally know the manga and Artemis learned the basics after hearing too many conversations between the two.

Since the three of them have more background knowledge on the half Saiyan, its easier for them to bond.

That being said the trio have a hard time not saying any spoilers.

Especially finding out which Saga Buddy is in.

Out of the three of them, Wally is the one who can keep up with Buddy’s speed.

Artemis and Dick managed to use their weapons on Buddy for a while before the kid quickly adapted to them.

Like father like son.

Buddy is looking down in front of the three of them. Buddy: “Hey… do you think I’ll be as strong as my dad? I mean I’m not a Super Saiyan, but I defently get stronger right?” The trio have flashbacks to Gohan and Buddy’s Super Saiyan 2 transformation and the entirety of the Buu Saga. Dick pats Buddy on the head. Dick: “You’ll get stronger.” Artemis: “Just remember to keep training, you and Gohan.” Buddy beams a bit at the response. Wally: “Yeah, you and your brother better keep up the good work!” Buddy smiles before thinking a bit. Buddy: “Brother’s?” All three teens freeze noticing the mistake. Buddy shrugs. Buddy: “I guess Trunk’s is going to be like our little brother.” Artemis, Dick and Wally internally: “Like father, like son.”

Buddy is not allowed to leave the cave too often as the days turn into weeks.

The half Saiyan did get cranky at the lack of room and getting bored of fighting Connor all the time.

Thankfully, Buddy is allowed on missions that need extra back up.

It’s during one of these missions that Buddy finally turns Super Saiyan.

Wally was not crying in the background, and you can’t prove it.

Thankfully, its around this time that Constantine and Zatara finally get the portal ready for Buddy to leave.

Buddy is saying his goodbyes to everyone. Buddy: “If you ever need my help, just drop by and ask! Bye!” The team waves goodbye as Buddy runs into the portal. Next thing Buddy knows he is standing a few feet from his home. Buddy blinks seeing someone come out of the house. It was his mother with a laundry basket. Chichi blinks too before dropping the laundry basket and racing to her little boy. Chichi: “BUDDY!” Buddy just accepts his fate letting his mother hug and cry. His own tears starts prickling out. Chichi: “Oh my sweet boy! Where have you been!?” Buddy: “Sorry Mom, but it wasn’t my fault this time.” WHOOSH! Buddy turns around at the familiar sound. Goku, Gohan and Piccolo were standing there. Gohan: “Buddy? Buddy!” Buddy smiles widely with his arms open as Gohan barrels into them. Goku lifting them both up into his arms sighing in relief. Gohan: “DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN! I COULDN’T FEEL YOU! I C-COULDN’T F-EEL YOU!” Buddy just latches onto his twin while Piccolo pats his head affectionately. It was good to be home.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunbeam

Part 2 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo prompt: Healing Touch

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

~~~

Dream needs more than just Hob’s milk.

The morning after Dream was given to him, he had called the palace physician to his room. She had brought several books with her, each bookmarked with any information on the health and anatomy of cat people that she could find, even if it wasn’t much. Doctor Constantine was never less than completely thorough in her job. It was how she had come to work in the palace in the first place.

It had taken her thirty seconds to kick the king out of his own chambers.

“I know you mean well,” she had huffed, her nose flaring in irritation that Hob could tell wasn’t really directed at him, “but this will be easier on him if he doesn’t feel outnumbered and cornered.”

Even after Hob left though, she hadn’t stayed in the room long. She had been jotting notes into the margins of one of her books as she spoke to Hob, explaining her concerns and how she wanted to address them in the coming days and weeks.

Now, even two weeks later, it hurt to see the way Dream’s body was suffering. While the malnutrition was their biggest concern, it was more than that. His fur was lank and dull, his skin sallow, occasional patches of skin red and irritated. Ideally, Hob wants to give him a bath, wants to let him soak in warm milk mixed with oils and medication to soothe his pains. But the very mention of a bath had brought Dream the closest to tears Hob had seen since his arrival, his body shaking and his voice cracking as he barely managed to choke out a shaking “Yes, master.” 

So. No bath then.

Still, Hob wants to help however he can, and when he looks out the window and sees the palace gardens bathed in sunlight, he gets an idea. 

It is early afternoon, and Dream has already been fed and woken from a fitful nap. He is now sitting, as he always is when Hob is in the room with him, at the foot of the bed, prim and proper. He thinks he’s seen soldiers standing at attention look more relaxed than Dream does right now, especially when Hob stands from his desk where he’d been reviewing his schedule. And luckily, there was nothing else on the docket today. So he casually walks around the room, collecting a small basket and filling it with a few select items. 

When he turns back to Dream, he just barely catches the moment that his eyes dart down to his own lap, as though he would be punished for simply looking at Hob. As always, Hob consciously pushes down his heartbreak, focusing on offering a gentle smile to try to ease Dream’s fears.

“It is a lovely day out,” he explains casually, “Would you care to join me outside in the gardens?”

Dream blinks, looking confused and caught off guard, but ultimately nods and stands, “Yes, m-… Yes. Sire .”

Hob smiled, and slowly reached a hand out to stroke Dream’s hair once, “Good boy,” he cooed. Hob had asked him not to refer to him as “master” and Dream clearly struggled with it. He was afraid of getting in trouble when he called Hob master out of habit, because to him it was disobeying an order. But he was afraid to not call Hob master as well, because to him it felt disrespectful. No matter what though, no matter what title slips out, Hob simply pets him, either while correcting him gently, or praising him for his bravery.

Slowly, he was flinching less at Hob’s hand.

He was getting a little stronger, too. As Hob leads him out of his chambers for first time since his arrival, Dream follows behind him on his own two paws, their journey marked by the heavy click of Hob’s hooves and the soft tapping of Dream’s claws. Certainly there is still a long road ahead for Dream to fully regain his strength, but for now Hob is proud that he is able to manage even the short to walk to the gardens.

Outside, the air is warm and bright, only the slightest of breezes to ruffle their fur. Hob gives a friendly nod to the various guards as they pass them, searching for the perfect spot to spoil Dream with sunshine.

Eventually, Hob finds a spot that he finds suitable, some fragrant bushes nearby but no trees to cast a shadow on them. He places the basket on the ground and removes a soft blanket to spread over the grass. He keeps his motions casual, even as he shrugs his shirt off in case Dream gets hungry later, and seats himself comfortably on the ground. When he looks at Dream, he finds him standing stiffly, ears flat against his head and staring at where his tail has wrapped around his ankles. 

Smiling, Hob pats his lap invitingly, “Could you come here please, Love?”` He is aware that Dream takes his every word as an order to be followed, but he hopes that maybe if he keeps asking, one day Dream might feel comfortable enough to answer honestly. 

For now, Dream answers expectantly, “Yes, sire,” and scrambles to do as he’s told. At first he moves to kneel between Hob’s thighs, but Hob halts him. He takes Dream’s hand gently, guiding him until he has Dream cradled in his lap, tucking his face against his shoulder and into the sun. 

He feels Dream shiver in his arms, and he pets down his back softly, “There we are,” he nearly whispers, “It’s such a lovely day. Thank you for joining me. It’s nice to enjoy the sunshine with some company, y’know?”

“...Yes, my lord,” the words are choked out, and he feels Dream relax, just a little against his body, the too-sharp bones sinking against Hob’s flesh.

Hob allows them to fall into comfortable silence, waiting patiently for the rest of the tension to slowly bleed from the cat in his arms. Eventually, Hob shifts slightly, reaching into the basket to retrieve a small jar. 

“Dream,” he asks softly, mourning the way he immediately tenses, “I have a salve that I think might help your skin and fur. Would it be alright if I put some on you?”

He feels Dream inhale shakily before nodding against his shoulder, “Whatever you wish, my lord.”

Sighing, Hob knows he will not get a better answer than that right now. He adjusts them just enough to gently push the robe down Dream’s shoulders, shushing him gently when he feels Dream’s breath catch in his chest. He lets the fabric pool in Dream’s lap, not taking it off completely, and then gathers Dream closer, shielding him with his body. He dips his fingers into the jar, coating his hand in the medicated oil, and then begins petting Dream.

He starts with the long stripe of fur running down his back, the black strands dull and dry from neglect. He strokes over where he can feel the prominent knobs of his spine, tangling his fingers down to the roots to rub the oil into where the skin is flaky and irritated. Hob keeps his movements slow and methodical, carefully working the medicine into each strand of fur, whispering soothing endearments and praise each time he feels Dream tremble and shake under his hands

Dream tenses when he moves on to the bare skin of his shoulders, whimpering when he feels Hob spreading the oil over the scars that litter his back.

“There, there,” Hob whispers, “Are you sore? The oil will help, but I can stop if it’s hurting, sweet one.”

He feels Dream shake his head, “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I did not mean to disobey.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Love,” Hob reassures, moving his hand away from the scars. He will try there again later, for now taking more oil and working his fingers into the fur at the base of Dream’s neck, “Just relax, enjoy the sunshine. You’re safe, sweetheart.”

Dream doesn’t believe that yet, Hob knows. But he will reassure him however many times he needs until he does. It takes time, Hob occasionally shifting to ensure Dream is always facing the sun as it moves across the sky, the jar of oil slowly emptying as he pets wherever he can reach, wherever Dream is not too afraid to be touched, until his fur is shiny and soft from the medication. He keeps petting him afterwords, reveling in the way Dream has melted against him, the way his skin has warmed beneath the sun, the way his ears are no longer pinned back in fear, but drooping in relaxation. Dream has his chin hooked on Hob’s shoulder, face tilted towards the light, when Hob feels it.

A soft, stuttering purr. It is barely audible, but Hob can feel it where Dream is pressed against his breast. 

Hob feels himself tearing up. He had read about the way cats purr, the sound of contentment and relaxation. He looks down, and feels his heart swell. Dream has his eyes closed, his face tearstained but soft, the light making him look like he is glowing, and Hob decides that he will do anything and everything in his power to make Dream look like that every single day. 

Carefully, he leans down to nuzzle at the crown of Dream’s head, so much softer and warmer than it was this morning. Dream doesn’t move, but the purring gets just a little louder.

[phantom-dc]

Dad hood - part 3

After cooking up some breakfast for the 2 of them, Jason and Danny were eating at the table.

'So Danny. What do you like?' If the kid was going to stay with him, he might as well make it more comfortable for him. Jason had plenty money so getting the kid a nice room was no problem.

'SPACE!' Yelled Danny. 'I love space! I like the stars and the moon and the sun and the planets!'

Jason smiled: 'Yeah? How about meteors and asteroids?'

Danny frowned: 'I like meteors, but I don’t like asteroids. One nearly broke the earth. I like the Earth too! I don’t want it to be broken.'

Jason remembered that. Bruce had been in a frenzy. A large asteroid emitting a strange energy had nearly destroyed the Earth, when somehow, the Earth had turned invisible and the asteroid had just flown right through! He had been going crazy with theories until John Constantine had found out beings from a place known as the Infinite Realms had turned the whole planet untouchable under orders of their King. Rumors said some Lex Luthor wannabe had tries to use it to take over the world, but nothing had come up of it. The investigation had come up empty, and other cases took their focus. In the end, the file was never closed, but no one was working on it. Poor kid, he must’ve been so scared of losing his home. Suddenly the alarm went off, someone was trying to get inside! Jason quickly pushed Danny in a closet, telling him to hide. He grabbed his gun and headed to the window, pulling back the curtains and taking aim.

'FOR FUCKS SAKE, OLD MAN! Let me know beforehand if you want in!' Batman looked at him with that stupid stoic face, and Jason turned of the alarm. Deciding to be petty, he didn’t let him in, forcing B to pick the lock. When the Bat entered, Jason asked him what he was doing here. Batman said that Jason was the one to report Penguin’s warehouse last night. Jason confirms this, and asks why. Batman says something was taken from it, and he asks if Jason has it. Jason gets defensive, wanting Bruce out of his house. He didn’t take anything! So now B can leave, right? Suddenly they hear a thud, coming from the kitchen. Jason’s heart sinks. He doesn’t want B to know about the kid. Batman takes out a Batarang and heads to the kitchen, followed by Jason. Jason doesn’t say anything, knowing that any excuse he gives now would only make Bruce more suspicious. He knows that Bruce dislikes the Lazarus Pits. As much as it brought back his kids from the dead, he knows Bruce still hates it for bringing Jason back wrong. Bruce always said he loved Jason, but Jason could see it in his eyes. He’d never trusted Jason after that, not truly. Bruce grabs the closet’s doorhandle. Jason it going over excuses in his head. He needs to be able to explain things when he sees Danny. The door is opened.

The closet is empty.

Bruce puts the Batarang away, letting out a grunt. Jason asks him what he expected to find, aside from groceries.

Bruce turns away: 'A penguin.'

Jason is incredulous: 'A what?' Bruce admits the warehouse that Jason reported had 34 penguins, but only 33 made it to the Gotham Zoo.

Jason just looks at Bruce: . You know you have another Robin that’s a much more likely suspect, right? Damian is the animal lover, not me.. Bruce heads to the window. Jason knows that means he's ashamed: 'How long have you been awake, B?'

'… A week.'

Jason laughs at Bruce: 'Maybe the Batman needs to hit the hay. If not to get his detective skills back, then to set a good example for the Replacement!'

Bruce grunts, and grapples out the window. After waiting a few moments to check if he really left, Jason immediately runs back to the closet. He looks inside, asking for Danny.

'Danny? Danny, where are you?' He is very worried, when suddenly Danny pops up! Like, you blink and he is back! Jason actually falls backwards in surprise.

'TADAAH~! I hid! Did I do a good job? I’m the best at hiding!' says Danny happily.

Jason agrees, not wanting to ruin Danny’s good mood. He asks how he did that. Danny just asks this? And turns invisible. Jason picks him up, still invisible but giggling. Jason grabs a black notebook and puts Danny back in his chair. He writes down:

Accelerated healing

Invisibility

Looks like the LoA was not just making a second Respawn, but trying to improve on him with extra powers. 'Ok, a 5 year old that can turn invisible. That’s.. I can deal with that! Jason thought naively. He had no clue what was about to come.

First - Previous - Next - AO3

[re-re-redline]

Constantine XI Alter (Saber)

>Spoilers for Constantine’s Interlude<

Foreword: This was supposed to be a sketch, I swear. But on another note, I am alive! Just slowly working up to writing after a few hectic weeks. But the train is moving, just very slowly which I imagine is nothing new. One thing I HAVE been getting up to is my painting of portraits of my blorbos for their birthdays. I suck at drawing anything festive, so I hope the quality of the piece makes up for it, hehe… I have Constantine’s done and I am extremely proud of it.

Buuut that’s in February, so let’s get into my explanation and thoughts on this hypothetical of my boi! Starting off with…why he looks like this.

(I would also like to note that I haven’t ran this through TTS yet so there probably is some grammatical errors and for that I will apologize in advance, I will iron them out soon.)

Fixed it! And I added a few more lines just to explain things further.

On the Subject of Appearance:

Alright, obvious and iconic Alter color palette aside, what’s up with the vast amounts of white? That’s because… Our guy wears black mostly in his first ascension and then dies it down in his second by adding a LOT of red, so it’d make sense that his alternative would be set apart by having him wear and have the color white. Plus it illustrates just how DIFFERENT he is compared to Micheal, how opposite or perhaps opposing he is. But more on that later.

I also tried making his hair look significantly messier than Constantine’s to set him apart and make him look more scary with his wild hair, especially in his third ascension. I looked at a panel of Yhwach from Bleach to see how I could do that since his hair looks so COOL but I couldn’t quite get it to how I wanted it thanks to the pencil I was using admittedly not being the best for that sort of thing. Now if I had used monoline instead then maybe it could’ve came out better…

(Also I was planning on this being just a sketch so I wasn’t really thinking of coloring anything until his second ascension when I realized I would have to in order to communicate how different he is from Constantine and it kinda snowballed from there. Oops… You might be able to tell, but I was looking at Saber Alter’s sprite from Stay Night for ideas on how to color him. Now. I just noticed that I forgot his crown for 3rd ascension and I did try adding one recently but it looked kinda bad… So we’ll just leave him without it for now. I could justify its absence by saying that it broke when he was altered and it basically signals his now ironically unholy nature, but I had to speak truthfully first.)

Now, about the cracks on his skin. THAT is marble. Sections of Alter’s body are petrified marble with a few dry cracks in the skin. Why? Because of the legend circulating after his death of him being a marble statue. It’s like how Hans has mermaid scales and how Okita will forever have tuberculosis, Alter’s body along with several other things were affected by how people saw him. I’ll get into it more later.

But! There are some cool things, or not cool rather, to note about the marble patches on his body. Like how a lot of pain he’d feel is nullified by it thanks to lack of, y’know, nerves. This also goes for sensations in general as he wouldn’t know if you were tapping him on the shoulder or were pouring boiling water on that spot. Sections of his body cannot feel but can still move just fine. It doesn’t impede his movement at all. It just…cracks a lot.

If you ever see him stretch and pop his spine, you will not only hear the snapping of bones but also stone splitting. Don’t worry, it’ll fix itself so you don’t have to worry about him sustaining major damage from just moving around. It’ll just take some getting used to on your end.

Now. You may have noticed that the marble patches grow more the further into his ascensions he is, to the point where his armor receives patches of marble on it too. Now this wouldn’t even be something to mention if not for the fact that I’d like to think that anything new he wears in his 2nd and 3rd ascension starts petrifying slowly over time. Not all the way but enough to the point where it gets to be a chore doing laundry. Just a neat addition to what is already there.

But yeah, that’s all I got for his design so far. On to the next!

On The Subject of Class and Gameplay:

If you play JP or have Clairvoyance then you already know why its not the obvious choice. Because his legend mentions specifically that the angel who wakes him up will give him the sword he used on his final day. So it’d make sense that his class would change to Saber.

Now. In this hypothetical where I’m the one designing him as a unit. I’d imagine his gameplay to be like so:

2 Buster Cards with 5 hits, 2 Arts Cards with 4 hits, and 1 Quick card with 3 hits. Five hit Extra Attack because he’s cool like that. Same card numbers but different hits on most.

His NP would be an Offensive Buster NP whose description looks something like this:

Legend of The Marble Emperor (EX):

Increase Buster Card Effectiveness for 3 Turns, Increase ATK for 1 Turn, Inflict Curse, Deal Major defense ignoring damage to one/all enemies, Restore HP by 2,000 (effect increases with Overcharge), Apply Resistance to Death by 5000% for 1 time (non-stackable) and Apply a stackable Guts for 5 turns that restores half of Constantine XI Alter (Saber)’s HP upon Death.

That is one hell of an NP that not only hits hard but also provides major survivability which is what Constantine is all about. Now, I could quite decide if he should be a Single Target or an AOE but I do imagine his gameplay to be your awesome clutch soloist unit for CQ’s, Advanced Quests or boss fights. Is this really cool hypothetical NP a showing of my massive bias? …Maybe. But that’s not important, onto the skills!

Skill 1: The Ends Justify The Means (A) [Cooldown at LV.10 is 6 Turns]

Increase Buster Card Effectiveness for 3 Turns, Increase ATK for 3 turns for All Party Members and Apply Target Focus to All Party Members Excluding Constantine XI Alter (Saber) for 3 Turns.

Skill 2: Demise Privilege (Alternative) (C) [Cooldown at LV.10 is 7 Turns]

Increase NP Gauge for Self by 50%, Gain crit.stars per turn for 3 turns, Remove 2,000 HP from all Non-Roman Party Members and Restore HP by 3,000 to self, Apply Guts to self for 3 Turns.

Skill 3: The People’s Wish (Alternative) (EX) [Cooldown at LV.10 is 6 Turns]

Apply a State Where Upon Hitting an Enemy, Inflict Curse (1,000 DMG) and Disastrous Curse for 3 Turns, Apply Special ATK to enemies with Curse.

As you can see, Alter is a very selfish DPS that drains HP from his non-Roman allies to keep himself alive along with inflicting curse stacks for damage over time. He’s be a nice pair up with Van Gogh for that last thing. And much like his NP, he really wants to live and it’s going to be difficult to kill him. So yes! Soloist in the form of a Saber.

Is his kit too cracked? …Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll let you all tell me what’s what.

On the Subject of Composition:

Constantine XI Alter is a Saber class servant comprised of three parts.

The first and the largest portion—the base, if you will—is Constantine’s ideal self, dreamed up during his final years of life in the late 1400s. As we are aware, Constantine utterly despises how weak he thinks he is. He hates the fact that he feels like he wants to breakdown and cry so much, he hates the fact that he’s terrified of dying, and most of all he hates that he isn’t strong enough to take the current crisis in stride like he believed his idols would have. Thus, Constantine saw his ideal self as a man who would not feel fear in times of crisis, would not cry when he was losing, and would not break under pressure. A truly stoic and strong leader that can handle any sort of disaster, that is to say: an emperor who wins for his people and survives.

The second part that makes up this servant are the wishes of the people of Constantinople. After Constantine’s death, a rumor floated around that the emperor had not died. He was rescued by an angel at the brink of death and turned into a statue. He would then sleep in a hidden cave underneath the Golden Gate of Constantinople awaiting the call of an angel who would restore his form and give him the sword he used in the final battle. It was a lovely thing to hope for and believe in, thus that rumor turned into a legend backed by the hopes and dreams of the people. It is this that would have completed this variation of Constantine had it not been for…

The third and final part is less of a ‘part’ per se and more of a distortion of what already existed. A wild, vengeful anger and grief corrupted what would have been the lovely culmination of the ideal self of Constantine plus the people’s hopes and dreams and twisted it into a cold automaton hellbent on continuing the existence of Rome as he knew it no matter the cost. These intense negative emotions came from the one and only Constantinople herself. When our favorite emperor perished and the Ottomans took over, there was no one as thoroughly stricken by grief—if we ignore George and Constantine’s remaining family—as Constantinople. It was pure agony to watch her people be murdered, enslaved and violated for days with the subsequent rebuild and installation of new buildings hurting too. But the most painful thing of all was watching her subjects slowly disappear one by one: people she watched grow up and live life for centuries on end vanishing never to return until all that was left was a large group of strangers who now occupied that space. It was maddening to say the least. The result was a lot of time passing and the events of Constantine’s interlude (yes, I read a summary of it and it could not come sooner for me.) While Constantinople WAS forced into slumber through the battle, much like the emperor she is so deeply connected with, Constantinople made a final last ditch effort to have her and Constantine’s wish come true. Thus the creation of an Alter of Constantine XI as well as a new singularity set shortly after the death of the real Constantine came to be.

On The Subject of Personality:

Alter is barely like the man we are familiar with, he would be practically unrecognizable if his face and voice were different. The most glaring difference is the lack of any expression on this man’s face. The muscles on his face only move for three reasons: he’s speaking, blinking, or the boiling rage underneath his skin has erupted upon the mention or appearance of the Ottomans. He just carries that same deadpan expression no matter what happens, good or bad. This is due to Constantine’s wishes to be a truly stoic man down to his core. Though, thanks to the distortion caused by Constantinople, most of his other emotions have been muted to make room for the, and I quote: “Boiling Rage™ that is 100% necessary and important to the restoration and maintenance of the Byzantine Empire. Yup, totally required. Why? Because screw you that’s why!”— Constantinople, circa Right Now. I kid, I kid. But really. Alter is either having tiny tinges of emotion flittering around in his skull sometimes—you know like the alleged to exist fruity taste of La Croix—or pure and absolute anger, no in between. Thankfully, for masters, the percentages of the anger are incredibly low unless for some odd reason you have Ottoman Turks appearing left and right in your area.

Unlike our friend Micheal, or any sapient being really, Alter doesn’t really…have opinions. He’s just neutral about most things in the world and mostly shrugs at whatever he’s interacting with. Good weather? Okay. Great food? Okay. Amazing friends? Okay. The milk went bad and the store’s closed right now? Okay. You stepped on the corner of five different Lego blocks on your way to the bathroom? Okay. Your pillow is scorching hot and you can’t sleep? Okay. Several hundred people just died in utter agony? O—you get the point. I’m sure you know one exception that Alter has, but allow me to provide you with one more and we’ll get into another in the next section.

The red earrings on his ears, cracked beyond belief yet still hanging just fine… Yes, Alter likes those. That’s why he hasn’t taken them off or let them shatter. Why? Well… He vaguely recalls someone important to him gifting him these. That man, after helping Constantine put his on, took out another similar pair and placed them on his own ears. He then said: “Now we match! Plus, I’ll be able to pick you out in even the most dense of crowds, my lord, as these earrings are one of a kind.”

(Yes, I headcanon that George gifted Constantine his iconic red earrings and has a matching blue pair for himself so that they both kinda match but hold their individuality all the same. A nice little thought that warms my heart.)

On The Subject of Speech:

The way this man talks is so dry and bland that one would think that Alter is bored out of his skull by simply existing. His voice is so flat and borderline monotone, no effort to emphasize anything or even to make digesting the info any easier. And to make matters perhaps worse he doesn’t talk much and tends to make what little he does say compact. It’s a flavorless way of communication that only changes when, you know, the Boiling Rage™ surfaces.

You know how in Constantine’s Bond Profile #1 it states that he “sometimes speaks more roughly in times of duress?” (Or “a more crude tone” if we’re reading the fan translation.) Yeah, well that’s no longer a sometimes. He still doesn’t talk much but man is he swearing and being rude as hell when he is pissed. The imperial decorum that our Micheal lives by has gone out of the window and will not be seen again until Alter calms down. No, he won’t apologize to anyone. Don’t bother, it’s a fruitless endeavor.

On the Subject of His Knowledge:

Alright, what does Alter know about himself? He knows that he was crafted by Constantine to be the ideal version of him. He knows about the legend surrounding his death and that being the reason for the petrification on his body. And he knows about Constantinople messing with his Spirit Origin and his current reason for existing and the objective that comes with it. …That’s it. That is all he knows.

Nothing about his personal life or his family or his best friend who had his back throughout it all, nothing. In its place are vague and fuzzy vignettes of familiar people he can’t put a name or face to that appear in his mind’s eye from time to time.

Now, as for his opinions on what he knows… Uh, I’ll just get the one with the least words on it out of the way first. The petrification thing? Yeah, he could not care less. The patches of marble on his body don’t limit his mobility any and yeah, the petrifying of his clothes is kind of annoying but it’s slow enough to where it’s not that big of a deal. It’s whatever for him.

Now. As for his creation—that being Constantinople messing with him and him being Constantine’s ideal self—he has a…not very good opinion on the two. And by that I mean he absolutely hates them both.

He hates Constantinople for twisting his already good spirit origin into what it is now and placing within him an undying anger. He also hates her for basically using him as a tool to get what she wants all because the ‘real’ Constantine rejected her wishes, essentially using him as a replacement. A simple means to an end… Yeah, even someone as dry as Alter isn’t happy with her one bit and immediately rebelled against her the moment she turned her back on him.

He hates Constantine for cursing him with the ridiculous traits of being stoic down to his core as well being the ‘perfect’ emperor for his people, the one who wins and survives. Because of that, not only does he not FEEL anything at all but he also has this immense pressure in his very soul that he MUST have Rome survive at all costs and that he must solely devote himself to that cause with every fiber of his being. Yes, the severity of those traits were caused by Constantinople’s anger and grief distorting him but the base traits were all on Constantine.

Now, in Constantine’s defense (because I am a Constantine defender), he had no idea that this would happen let alone that an Alter of himself based on what he saw as his ideal self, the emperor his people deserved and would suit them best, even existed in the first place. It was a dream to him. A dream of a man who was much better than he was, doing way better than he is and winning all at once. That is all that Alter was to him then and what he was to Constantine before the singularity. And upon seeing the cursed man before him, he could not feel worse about himself if he tried.

Endnote: Whew… That was a lot! But I think that was I’ve got on Alter. As you can see, I’d been doin’ a big think on him and he was a very fun character to design both artistically and in writing.

Whew… That was a lot! But I think that was I’ve got on Alter. As you can see, I’d been doin’ a big think on him and he was a very fun character to design both artistically and in writing. I hope you don’t mind the crumminess in the piece, if you can even call it that. I wasn’t joking when I said it was supposed to be a sketch hence the noticeable climb in effort across the ascensions.

In other more exciting news… I have 10 followers! Ten whole people! That’s enough to get one of those long tables at the fancy restaurants with!

It’s quite the milestone, one I was not expecting. So, to celebrate, I’m going to bypass the order of things I WANTED to get through with before I did this sort of thing—since I didn’t think I’d get 10 followers, honestly. But, I will be dropping a poll sometime soon—before the day’s end Nope, way too sleepy right now.—of a few headcanons you guys can choose from for me to do next! And not JUST for Constantine, Mehmed, or Sannan—no, no. I will also be tacking on my two other blorbos that I have neglected to mention, them being Hajime-chan (my strongest Saber) and Izou (my strongest Assassin.) So it’ll be Multi-Core Headcanons (haha), five people in one list. And don’t you worry, it won’t be like, one paragraph long or anything half-assed. That shit will be long, like 4k minimum per person which would—if I strictly hang around that number—would be a 20k long HC list.

So case in point! It’ll be a celebration and I implore you to vote.

But yeah. That’s all for this post. I’ll also be posting something else shortly after that is NOT the poll but a nice occurrence for lil’ ol’ me. If you have questions, comments, a desire for elaboration or a keyboard smash of your thoughts, let me know! And I’d like to thank you all for indulging my delusions today and before today and I hope you all have a great day.

—Redline, over and out!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can I request John Constantine fic where the reader is a eldritch or an angel that's known the league for a while or they capture them but John knows them.

I'm a literal whore for that man 👹

John Constantine x Angel male reader

Headcanons

Reader’s bit of a black sheep amongst angels, cuz I feel like Constantine would go great with a bit of a rebel.

its honestly taken me too long to realize that lucifer from the show is the same lucifer as in the DC comics.

You had a bit of a past with John Constantine, with you being a bit of a rulebreaker amongst the angels and all. I mean, you still went to visit your brother Lucifer on the regular, even if you had been told not to.

Michael had scolded you more times than you could count, telling you not to pop in and out of hell as you please just because you want too, or to not just teleport to earth willy-nilly when Lucifer relocated there for a while.

It was at Lucifers club that you met Constantine for the first time. You didn’t really speak to him, but you did see how he seemed to truly get on your older brothers’ nerves, so you already liked him for that alone.

After the blonde Brit left, Lucifer would give you the whole spiel about him, complaining about how many times he had sold his soul, and all the trouble his actions caused in hell, and how much paperwork the blonde gave him.

After that you bump into him in other places. You like to party, you like to fight, you like to be a nuisance. And its not like anybody can stop an angel as powerful as yourself if they wanted. They’re lucky you just like to be annoying by nature and that you aren’t actually evil.

It ends up with you getting mixed up in some of the things Constantine get up too, even if its by accident because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You always just know that Michael is gonna be on your neck when you get back to heaven after each time, but hanging out with John is worth it.

Hes tried to get you drunk so many times, but it never works no matter what kind of stuff he pulls out of his coat. Being angelic doesn’t really allow you to be weakened by something as small as alcohol. But its fun to see him try anyways.

In the eyes of your siblings, even Lucifer, Constantine is a bad influence, and they’ll scold you for spending so much time with a mortal, especially someone as twisted on the ledgers as Constantine. You just always shrug, flutter your wings, and fly off to do whatever it is you do. Being the youngest has its perks, since it means you get away with quite a lot.

It was also this carefree attitude that got you caught and locked up by the league. They hadn’t dealt with many angels before, so in the beginning they think you are something else. Be It a mutant or a spirit.

You could easily escape if you wanted too. Something as weak as a man-made structure wasn’t gonna hold you, but you had been bored for weeks now, so why not see what happens. You do get pretty annoyed when they talk about you like you cant hear them. They don’t know you can hear them, but still.

Zatanna easily spots that you are of divine descent, but just how far up in the hierarchy you are is a bit lost to her, since they still believe you can be captured by human means. This is why they’re forced to call in Constantine, since hes the only one they know who regularly interacts with an angel.

The Brit has a good laugh when he sees you sitting on the floor in a cell pouting, your wings wrapped around you like a cocoon. At this point you just phase out of the cell to flick Constantine in the temple for laughing at you.

John is the one that has to explain that you could have escaped the entire time if you wanted, you were just a dick that got bored easily. The dick comment makes you huff and smack him with your wing.

After all that is cleared up, the two of you go out to drink like usual. I could imagine the league trying to figure out if you’d be willing to help them when times are tough, but to their dismay you just shrug and give a “if I feel like it”.

Constantine will later explain to them in passing, mainly to roast you, that you are the youngest, which means that you aren’t used to real work and can just do whatever you want, cuz all your older siblings baby you.

His chair disappears from right under him for that comment, so the league takes it with a grain of salt. In the end you help out if there really is no other way, since angels shouldn’t interfere with minor issues.

Most of the time on earth you spend with John though, since he matches your wavelength and isn’t freaked out by the whole angel thing.

[johnwickluva]

Constantine 2005 fic

chapter 1

Summary: you’re some type of overpowered spawn of an angel and demon whose made to live with John Constantine.

word count: 4.1k

AN: i literally just skimmed a couple wikis on powerful beings and felt inspired to write this…

You were busy snooping around John Constantine’s apartment when he left with an unlistened command to not touch anything. He had to find Gabriel, he’ll know what this was all about. You showed up with a note. All it had on it was his address and a small ‘enjoy! written in golden cursive.

John knew of you; you were annoying and destructive. You didn’t listen, you never took anything seriously and even the strongest demon half breeds he met wouldn’t even utter your name out of fear. Fear that you would show up and fuck up their whole night of fun doing the devils work.

It was obvious you were a half breed yourself. Was this someone’s pathetic attempt at a joke? Why would they send you to John Constantine? The man who had been a thorn in Lucifer’s side for who knows how long now. Rumor was they sent you to be a halfbreed because you were causing too much shit downstairs but that again, was just a rumor.

John was pissed as he burst into the building. Gabriel was there, standing like he was waiting for him with a knowing smile. He didn’t need this— no he didn’t need you ruining his private life. The man didn’t even like when people would visit him. He wasted no time, with the note in his hand he marched up to the Angel.

“Is this a joke?” John held the note up.

“Hello to you too John.” Gabriel laughed. “No, not a joke, someone needs to watch her.”

You were a demon though.

“What would you have to deal with her for? She’s a part of the crew from downstairs.” Constantine was fuming.

Gabriel’s face dropped the smug smirk and became very serious.

“News has come forward. The mother of that spawn was another half breed.”

“So? A little more than a half breed from hell, doesn’t explain why you guys are involved.” He pointed out.

Gabriel shook his head at him with his eyes wide. John had never seen the archangel like this.

“The mother was of angelic blood.” He replied in his proper way of speaking,

“Oh.”

The seriousness of the situation hit him but now he was even more confused as to what he was supposed to do with you.

“A Nephalem.” He blinked.

If he was correct your kind was unheard of but both sides wanted to keep their eyes on you but hands off. Nephalem’s were the offspring of an Angel and Demon. You were like if oil and water mixed. Your simple existence threatened God, Lucifer and all of humanity. An abomination, a child of Heaven and Hell.

“When tasked with watching her I thought why not send her to you John.” Gabriel motioned to him. “You could be considered a man of two worlds.

He was hinting at John’s damned soul but efforts to reverse that. John rolled his eyes.

“You kill yourself slowly and are already damned, yet you try and do good. Word is, this could get you back in His good graces.”

With that John turned and left, that’s all he needed to hear. He had to make sure you didn’t destroy the world and he’d get into heaven. Great. No pressure at all.

When he returned back to his place he was already ready to give up and try to kill you. His home was a mess. You had made food, leaving the dishes everywhere for someone— him— to clean. He wondered where you had even gotten the ingredients for a meal since he hadn’t been grocery shopping in who knows how long. The worst part though, you had found his spare pack of cigarettes.

John stomped up to you and ripped the carton from your hand. They were all ripped up and you were chewing on some, making a disgusted face while looking up at him. He grabbed the back of your head and wacked you. You spit the chewed up tobacco all over the place. Thank god there was one more left, he needed it.

“Those are disgusting… How do you do that willfully?” You questioned him.

“Because, you half and half breed, you're doing it wrong,” he mocked you. “Don’t touch these again.”

The man knew he should be careful with you but he’d rather die than hold his tongue. He took the cigarette and put it between his lips before he grabbed his lighter and lit the smoke. You watched him with a raised eyebrow, fascinated as he inhaled. Your head tilted almost a kin to a cat.

‘Half in, half out.’ He thought.

“What are those things called?” You asked.

“It’s called a cigarette.” He blew the smoke out right into your face and gave you a perplexed look as you took a deep breath through your nose, like you were trying to breathe it in. “Would you like to try?”

“Ohh yeah! Those cancer sticks that slowly poison you humans till you eventually die? It’s really like suicide, no? Since you choose to do it, hm?” Your eyes met his and he could’ve sworn he saw your eyes flicker all black. “Yes.”

John scoffed in disbelief before holding it up to your lips. You leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the butt of the cigarette. He didn’t appreciate how sexual you were making this. You sucked in, for a long time, so long in fact he ripped it away from you with a grumble not to hog it all. Damn. You could finish the cigarette in one hit with ease.

The smoke left your mouth as you blew out. It wasn’t bad to you but you preferred alcohol you thought. Maybe not worth dying over as much as booze. You shrugged your shoulders. He brought it back up to his lips and took another drag. You were confident and he found it attractive but he also knew it could just be you making him feel that way.

The extent of your powers… If his understanding was correct, was nothing to fuck with. Stronger than an archAngel? John was not afraid, he would face Satan with no fear and he’s not pleasant towards Gabriel though he could kill him in a second. He acted with no care for his life, though he really didn’t want to die. Not till he knew he wasn’t condemned by God to suffer eternal punishment in hell.

Most demons and angel half breeds were very good looking. John didn’t know if it was the fact you had both but you were the most bedable one of them all. You looked up at him like you were thinking and he chose to sit across from you. The cigarette dangled from his lips as he took another drag. He was still mad.

“I think I prefer booze. I’ve been alive for so long, I’ve never liked tobacco products.” You gave your verdict.

“Good, because since you’re my ticket to Heaven, you have to live with me and there are going to be rules.” John snapped out.

He went over the rules.

1. Don’t be annoying.

This meant no talking to him when he didn’t want, no being loud, no leaving a mess and no having anyone over ( if you even had friends, he didn’t know)

2. His say is final.

This one is self explanatory. Its his house, his rules

3. Don’t touch his stuff.

John Constantine didn’t have much, but what he did have, you were not to touch.

4. No bothering him when he has work.

He was already very private and he didn’t need you all up in his business.

5. If he needs your help, you will help him since he’s letting you stay at his place.

You could be useful, he realized, a secret weapon.

Your facial expression read that you were bored but you nodded anyway. Yeah that went in one ear and out the other. He wanted to scream as he noticed when he was gone you must’ve stolen a pair of his socks. Rule number three was broken before he’d even created it. It was going to be a long stay.

Month one.

The first month was the actual worst. John was trying to adjust to having a roommate. A roommate who ate all his food, stayed up for days on end being obnoxious and loud, and never left him alone. His rules meant nothing to you but he expected nothing less. He didn’t realize he’d have so much to explain to you.

John made the mistake of comparing you to a child once and never again. You had flipped out telling him that you were not a child, in fact you were older than him. Just because you didn’t understand all of the weird rules weak humans had didn’t mean you acted like a child. How were you supposed to know you couldn’t go into the men’s restroom with him? Or that you were supposed to look both ways before crossing the road?

Prior to living with him you did whatever you wanted. No rules, no manners and certainly no laws. To call you a human child was the most insulting thing you could think of. You smack him for that one, it hurt and he got pissed. The two of you yelled at each other for an hour. Or more like, you screamed and he sat there and threw an additional shot out.

You hid yourself away from him for two weeks and they were the best two weeks since you’d arrived. Quiet, peaceful but he couldn’t help but worry and checked on you. He still was tasked with making sure you got used to your new human form and that you didn’t destroy the planet. His heart almost dropped when he saw you weren’t in your room.

That was the funny thing, for how annoying you were, you made him feel a lot of emotions. At first he chalked it up to you manipulating his feelings with your powers but he felt them even when he was miles away from you. He told himself it was because he was responsible for you and that was it. John couldn’t have feelings for you though, but something felt very familiar about you.

He spent hours trying to find you but gave up when he realized it was useless. John didn’t know much about you, he’d have no idea where to look. Instead he stayed home and waited. Would you come back? Finally the door opened. He knew it was you because no one else would just walk in. You walked in wearing a work uniform.

“Where the hell have you been and what are you wearing?” He tried to ask calmly.

“I got a job.”

“A job?” He looked at you like you were insane.

“Yeah. That’s what Hannah said it was called.” You walked towards the kitchen feeling hungry, like you haven’t been gone for two weeks.

“Who the hell is Hannah?” John couldn’t keep up.

“My coworking friend.” The fridge was still empty and you frowned.

You just got home, would you really have to go back out to get food? Didn’t John ever buy food? How did the man eat? Humans needed food to survive but come to think of it you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything other than drink and smoke. You turned to look him up and down. Is he okay?

“Your co-worker? Nevermind that, where did you get a job?” He tried to ignore your stare.

“The store down the street.”

“Right. Got it.” John responded like it all made sense but it didn’t.

“Really John? No food?”

You walked around the house like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been gone for almost two weeks. Instead you decided to tell him about your adventure…

… You waited until Constantine was sleeping one Thursday as you really didn’t want to talk to him. Sneaking past him while he slept on the couch, you walked out of the apartment into the crisp night air. Your first place of business was a bar. It was late at night and a lot of half breeds were out and about causing trouble.

Each and every one of them wouldn’t make eye contact with you. They were scared and you could feel it. You wondered what energy radiated from you as you walked by. With a smile, you held your head up higher and began your way to the bar. Once you got there… You don’t remember much.

What you did remember was waking up on some woman’s couch with a large sum of money. Oh and it was Monday. The woman explained to you that you had met at a casino and you won big. You did too many celebratory shots to the point the bar cut you off. She must’ve slipped some acid in your drink because you remember seeing pretty colors and that was it.

With your large sum of money you took the woman shopping. To the point she basically robbed you. When you were at the last store you didn’t have enough, the two of you ran out of the store with the merchandise. You ended up getting tased by the cops and hauled off to jail for the night. The woman said it was weird, you stared the cop in the eyes and he just let you two walk out.

So then you were broke, but not ready to go back to Constantine yet you crashed at her place for a few days. After a bit she started getting sick of you and kicked you out. You left her with all the stuff you bought her and decided to try and get a coffee. Realizing you had no money you decided to walk into a gas station and get a job. You worked there for a few days, sleeping outside under bridges when you decided to come back to John…

John looked at you with shock written all over his face. So you basically went on a bender, won at the casino, got arrested and used your powers to break out. The only good part of the story was that you had a job. Maybe you could bring some money into the house for all your trouble. He let out a shaky breath and was about to go off on you when he realized it might make you leave again.

You were really testing John. Testing his patience and temper. Instead he took a deep breath.

“Tell me when you’re leaving next.”

“Aw, you worried?” You asked.

John rolled his eyes.

“Yeah because if you destroy the world in a drugged craze it’s me who's at fault.” He said.

“Sheesh I just wanted to have some adult fun. Because I am an adult and not a child.” You shot back at him.

He wanted to scream.

“I won’t call you a child again if you tell me before you leave.”

That’s the closest you’d get to an apology from John. You thought about it for a second before putting your hand out.

“Deal!”

This was going to be the hardest year of Constantine’s life.

Month 2

“Let go!” You yelled at him.

But John would not let go of his jacket you were currently battling over.

“It’s my jacket!”

“Yeah well I’m cold and I want it!”

You could rip it out of his hands with ease. The problem was it made you way too tired. See you still weren’t sure about your powers yet. Sometimes you could do things and be fine and sometimes it would wipe you out. You chose to not use them half the time. With how guarded Constantine’s place was, it wasn't worth it as it made things harder.

So here you were battling him for his jacket.

Before you knew it you both heard a riiiip noise as the fabric tore apart. You lost your footing and flew backwards. Your palms came out to try and catch yourself but they just hit the ground really hard. You let out a hiss and immediately pulled it up and cradled it against your chest. The pain shot throughout your hand and up your wrist.

John looked pissed. He held half of his jacket before throwing it on the ground, making you jump. Then, when he saw the tears in your eyes he softened. He was seriously about to give you a piece of his mind but instead kneeled down in front of you and grabbed your wrist. You whimpered, you weren’t scared of him, just in a lot of pain.

“You might have sprained it, let me see.” He coaxed you.

With slow movements you let his warm hand grab yours. He carefully moved your hand back and forth.

“Make a fist for me but don’t hit me.” He joked.

You gave him a tearful laugh before making a fist.

“It’ll be sore but it’s not broken or sprained.” John said.

Then he stared at you. He was overwhelmed with how pretty he thought you were. Without thinking he brought his hand up and wiped away your tears. You stared at him with big eyes. His breathing caught in his throat and he retracted his hands and walked away, lighting up a cigarette. He stared out the window for a second before turning around to look at you.

“You owe me a new jacket.”

John didn’t like these feelings he was getting. Still unsure if it was himself or you manipulating him, he suddenly found himself needing to go for a walk. That would tell him everything he needed to know and fresh air would do him some good. He told you to stay put and left the house.

You knew he needed some time alone. John Constantine was not used to having someone in his space every second of the day. Plus he was dealing with some really intense feelings. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since Lindsey,

A woman he was in love with that the devil took from him. It was a devastating loss and made him realize he should cut off all contact from women if he cared about them. Preferring one night stands over relationships. He knew he didn’t need to be scared with you but decided to keep his distance.

John walked and walked before taking a cab until he was far away from you. He lit a cigarette and walked by the water he had taken himself to. Taking a drag, he thought. You were attractive to the point he couldn’t stop checking you out when you two talked.

You’d walk around his house nude and he’d try to be respectful but your body was a piece of art to look at. You had no care and could be an asshole when needed and it just made you so much more attractive. Your bluntness and lack of care.

You were also sweet to him when he wasn’t being an asshole to you. Most importantly he still felt the feelings. You weren’t manipulating him. John ran a hand through his short hair.

“Shit.”

Finishing up his cigarette he decided to do something nice. Although being nice wasn’t in his vocabulary he felt the need to try and convey these newly discovered, confirmed feelings. He hailed another cab and gave the name of a place that sold flowers.

You had injured yourself so John knew he could just say they were for your injury. He picked out three roses. After paying for them he realized he wanted to talk to Gabriel again. He had questions and decided to make a quick pit stop before he went home to you.

Walking into the church he jumped straight into the point.

“How does this get me my ticket to Heaven?” John asked.

Gabriel looked up from the book he was reading and stared at him.

“Do you even know the true extent of her powers?”

“I’ve done some research. She’s more than that though. It’s like she’s a witch.” He said.

“To call her a witch is an insult. She’s much more powerful than that.”

Gabriel went on to explain to John that you were the biggest threat to the balance, that you could wipe out the Earth if you wanted. There were still demons out there that would try to influence you into ending the world, wanting the glory of being the one to win you over to their side.

While your physical body had only been on earth for thirty years, you were much older. Thirty years was nothing to you, so you still didn’t have the hang of your powers. While you were trying to figure them out you needed someone human to teach you how to empathize and someone who had the gift of sight to guide you.

Having both angel and demon blood in you, you could be easily swayed to either side. You were never supposed to be here, but angels and demons also were never supposed to copulate and reproduce. Your mother had died at birth, birthing you. You had to be cut from her stomach.

When word came of your birth, your father was sentenced back to hell for all of eternity. They tried to kill you while you were a baby but you just kept resurrecting. They realized they couldn’t get rid of the problem and decided, up until about ten years ago, to hide and teach you all that you needed to know.

Intelligent beings were more empathetic. Maybe you would just stay out of things out of the goodness of your heart. The only thing they didn’t help you with was learning your powers, they hoped they just wouldn’t appear… And they didn’t until five years ago. But you had gotten a taste of freedom and never looked back.

If Constantine could pull this off, it would be like saving humanity. Someone other than himself. Hopefully she could help him grow as well.

“So I have some ticking time bomb in my house.” John said, letting out a fake chuckle.

“And you are going to spend the rest of your life trying to diffuse it.”

“The rest of my life?” He asked exasperated.

“You still need to be punished.”

John’s mouth was agape. He blinked slowly and simply turned to leave. Now he really had to think about some things.

“Oh and John?” Gabriel called.

He stopped to turn and looked at him.

“Don’t fall in love with her.” He pointed to the flowers.

John felt his face heat up as he forgot about the roses in his hand. He glared at the angel halfbreed before practically stomping out of the church.

Back at the apartment you sat with ice on your wrist while watching tv on the older television. The door opened and slammed closed, causing you to look up from the screen. Your heart filled with joy at the sight of the flowers but then John had to go and open his mouth,

“I just thought they’d look nice on the table.” He thought about Gabriel’s final words to him.

Your heart sank a little but, you didn’t expect anything less.

“Oh okay.”

John could sense you were saddened by his words and scoffed, grabbing one of the three roses. Gabriel be damned. He brought it over to you and brought his arm out to hold the rose in front of you. Although you were still a little sad you looked at him.

“And for your injury.”

Finally a smile placed on your lips and you delicately grabbed the flower. Your movements were soft, like you’d destroy the plant. You brought it up to your nose and sniffed, the floral smell filling your nostrils. It smelt so good. You hummed and held it close to your chest.

This flower would be treasured forever. You’d make it last forever. A gift from Constantine was like a gift from a king in your eyes. You stood up and before he could tell what you were doing you hugged him. His hands stayed by his sides and you squeezed him.

“It feels better already.”

“Yeah yeah okay.” He said pushing you off of him.

John was too aware of your breasts against his chest. You smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but smirk before the grin was dropped and replaced by a scowl. He didn’t like feeling like this. Constantine never did. Feelings always led to problems. He looked deep into your eyes.

After a moment he bent down, getting closer to you. You closed your eyes thinking he was going to kiss you but he got close to your ear. Your body tingled at the closeness.

“You still owe me a new jacket.”

Then he backed away, making his way to the balcony to smoke a cigarette and get some more fresh air.

[7-wonders]

8 - "You look like you were jealous" - Subtle Smut Sentence Starters - Morpheus/Dream.

Morpheus never worried about men flirting with the reader because he knows his lover has a preference for women. Lately, a woman in the workplace has been not only flirting but also dreaming about the reader, and that makes our emo kitty jealous. Morpheus starts looking for the reader at his workplace saying that he has important things to talk/do with her, but in fact he knows that this woman wants to ask the reader out on a date, which is why he always appears and intervenes.

You can say that this woman has all the characteristics that the reader likes in a woman. Reader would obviously be bi/pan.

I don't know if that's how it works, forgive me if something is wrong or confusing, I don't speak English. You can obviously change whatever you want. 💓💓💓💓

A couple of months ago, I wrote about the reader being jealous. Now it's Morpheus's turn, and I giggled the whole way through writing this. Enjoy!

•••

As the King of Dreams, Morpheus is privy to the dreams that each and every being with a consciousness holds dear to them. Though he is not in charge of desires (that’s his sibling’s department, and it’s one he’d like to stay far away from, thank you very much), dreams and desires often share the same space and are sometimes even the same thing.

This is how he finds out that there’s someone, a mortal, nonetheless, that is interested in you romantically.

Jealousy is not a feeling that Dream of the Endless has been overly familiar with during his long, long life. Possessiveness, yes, but for the most part, he has had no reason to be jealous (except for the Killala affair, the first, and probably only, time that he had ever been genuinely jealous). Not to sound pompous, but he is Endless. What need does he have for an emotion as petty as jealousy? In fact, if one were to ask him, he would say that he had never actually been jealous before and that if he had, it was so long ago that he did not remember what the emotion felt like.

No, he’s not familiar with jealousy, but what else would he call this…odd, simmering anger that threatens to eat him alive? After all, it had only started when he had sensed you, or rather, a version of you, in someone’s dreams, and found said version of you engaged in sexual intercourse with a dreamer. It was only after Morpheus declared the dream to be over that he went in search of the offending dreamer, only to discover that it was none other than Johanna Constantine.

As you would say, Morpheus shot himself in the foot. After all, he was the one to introduce you to Constantine when the occultist was having trouble summoning and speaking to ghosts. You just so happened to have the abilities of a psychic medium and were more than willing to help out when the situation had been explained to you. You worked well together and ended up continuing your professional partnership after the original job was finished. At the time, Morpheus had prided himself on a job well done. Now, he was wishing that he had forced her to make a costly deal with his sister if only it meant that she would stop meeting up and working with you.

It certainly doesn’t help that Constantine was a naturally flirtatious creature, calling you “gorgeous” or “love” whenever she talked to you, or teasing that she would be ready and available should you finally decide to leave Morpheus. Worse is the fact that, when it came to women, Morpheus knows that Johanna is what is referred to as “your type.”

He distinctly recalled a night spent with you and Hob Gadling, listening as you recounted the follies of prior relationships. Hob had just finished explaining speed dating in the eighties when you told him that, after years of denial, you had had the startling realization after your last relationship that you did actually have a type, with that type being “brunette girls with an attitude.” Unfortunately, that was very much Johanna.

Morpheus doesn’t understand why it is that he’s feeling so upset, so jealous, over this situation. He knows with every fiber of his anthropomorphized being that you are loyal and faithful to him and that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you. But as Johanna’s infrequent dreams of you take on a more romantic tone, he cannot help but become a slave to jealousy.

Morpheus had to do something. He could not, he would not, lose you to anybody, but especially not a mortal, and definitely not a Constantine.

So he begins to…appear spontaneously when he knows that you and Johanna will be working together. Matthew calls it “staking his claim,” and perhaps that’s what it is. What else would he call showing you affection in front of your coworker, affection that he is not good at giving when in public, for no reason other than to remind said coworker that you are very happily taken? It’s a rather genius plan, he believes. Subtle, too. If he were to be questioned as to why he shows up at the most inopportune of times, he would simply claim that Time works differently in his realm, and therefore it is impossible to know what is considered a “good time” to see his beloved.

Morpheus is able to delude himself into thinking that this is all working perfectly until after the third time he tries this act. You’re excited to see him when he interrupts your and Johanna’s research into whether the entity she’s dealing with is a ghost or a poltergeist, and you eagerly accept the kiss he offers to you. Still, he notices the look that you and Johanna share when he asks if you might be willing to end your meeting early, and he becomes uncomfortable at the thought that you both know what this is. No, Morpheus tells himself, he’s covered his tracks extremely well.

“Well, Jo? Think we can continue this tomorrow?” you ask upon getting the hint that Morpheus would rather be anywhere but here. “We have been at it for a while now.”

She sighs in faux petulance before nodding. “Aye, could use a break, let you and Sandy get on with your marital activities.”

Morpheus glowers at the exorcist, but you just snicker under your breath and remind her, “We’re not married.”

“Yet.” Johanna glances at Morpheus and winks. “Better hurry up with that, else someone might swoop in and steal your girl.”

“Thank you for the sage advice, Constantine,” Morpheus bites out before turning to you. “Are you ready to depart?”

You nod and take his offered arm, allowing Morpheus to sweep you away to the Dreaming faster than you can even think about saying goodbye to your friend.

When you land in his chambers, you grab his arm before he can try to escape based on the pretense of needing to return to tasks that are apparently pressing, but not pressing enough that he couldn’t escape to see you for no real reason. “Wait,” you say. “Can we talk?”

“What about?” Morpheus asks, for he is not about to deny your request.

“You’ve been acting weird.” You pause. “Weirder than normal. And you only act this way when I’m working with Johanna.”

“I do not believe that has been the case.”

You grin, and he knows that you’ve figured out what he has been doing. “Morpheus. Are you…jealous?”

“That is preposterous,” he says immediately, trying to dispel the notion from your mind.

“Really? Because, to me, it sure looked like you were jealous.”

“I am no such thing!”

Instead of trying to argue with him, because there’s no point to that when you both know that he’s lying, your triumphant grin softens to something sweeter. “It’s okay to be jealous, you know. It’s a very human emotion.”

“I am not human.”

“I know. But you do carry the entire subconscious of humanity, so it makes sense that you’d feel our petty human emotions.”

“Suppose I am…jealous,” Morpheus says the word as if it pains him to do so. “That would not upset you?”

“No! If anything, I’m just curious why you’re jealous. And why it’s Johanna that you’re jealous of.” 

The fact that you have no idea why he feels this way makes Morpheus feel even worse about the jealousy that he’s experiencing because it’s obvious that, to you, he has no reason to be jealous. Morpheus so badly wishes to manufacture a crisis somewhere in the Dreaming so that he may escape having to talk about his feelings.

“I am aware of your proclivity of women that are much the same as Johanna Constantine,” he says instead. “I am also aware of the affection that she harbors for you, an affection made obvious in her dreams.”

“Johanna doesn’t have a crush on me! That’s just how she is, she flirts with everyone!” you argue.

“I can assure you that she does. I will let you see her book if you wish.” He knows that you’re not doubting him in the slightest, but he also wants you to know that just because he’s jealous does not mean that he’s making things up.

“No, if you say it’s true, then I believe you. But what do you mean, my proclivity towards women–” you mutter the last sentence, trying to figure out what Morpheus meant when suddenly you remember the exact same conversation as him. “Huh, I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

It clicks together for you now, and you grab Morpheus’s hands so that he can’t run away. “Yes, girls like Johanna have traditionally been my type. But lately, my type has changed.”

“It has?” He knows what you’re going to say, but he wants to hear you say it. If Morpheus is going to be indulging his more human emotions, then greed may as well join that list.

“My type is you, Morpheus. Not people like you, but you.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, leaning his forehead against yours. Morpheus straightens after a moment when fear runs through him like lightning. “You will not tell her of this, will you?”

“No, I wouldn’t talk about our private conversations to her. Plus, it’s embarrassing enough to have a crush on someone that you know is taken. I don’t want to call her out and make her feel bad about it.”

“You are wise,” Morpheus praises.

“Then might I wisely suggest that you allow me to show you just how little you have to be jealous about?” you ask, already leading him back towards the bed.

He smirks. “You may.”

His secret bout of jealousy, he’s relieved to discover, will remain safe with you.