#he is my son i don't care that he's actually a grown-ass man trapped in a child's body

[how-and-why-do-i-know-this]

Fromsoft please don't make Miquella a boss in the DLC. I don't wanna fight the boi I wanna hug him. He's friend shaped. (/silly)

[landboundstar]

From Ghoulies And Ghosties part 1

Started a story. Let's see if I can get it done by Halloween.

John Constantine gets hired by Thomas and Martha Wayne to find the problem bothering their son. Difficulties will ensue.

Swearing in this chapter.

I came back from a walk to grab chips and curry and walked back into my own office.

And the beginning of an old detective movie.

Honestly, with some of my enemies, being trapped in a movie is not out of the question. So I will clarify.

I walked into my office, not a literal movie.

I just felt like I should be hearing a bloody sax playing in the background in black and white when I walked back into my office and saw who was standing there.

The woman stood, a long dark coat covering her dress, playing with a string of pearls at her throat, with her husband's arm around her shoulder.

"Well, hello." I crossed to the chair behind my desk, pulling the extra salt packets out of my pockets as I munched on a chip. "Why don't you have a seat?"

I didn't ask their names, but I didn't need to.

I had seen their pictures before.

The woman actually blushed a little as she sat down in the chair across from me.

"Mr. Constantine, I've heard our son talk about your skills."

I raised my eyebrow at that, but she continued talking.

"It wasn't to me, of course. But he speaks well of your preparedness, your detective work, and your magical talents."

I did wonder just what she had overheard and who it had been to. Because it had been nowhere I had ever heard him.

"Our son's in trouble. And I'm worried that, this time, it might break him. We want to hire you to help him find the problem and solve it." The man spoke.

They were sincere, bless them.

Just one problem.

"You know, as one of your son's friends, I hate to tell you but your son is a grown ass adult who does not like asking for help? In fact, he's known to be a bit paranoid about it at work."

I slid my hands towards the salt packets.

The man placed two pictures and a banded stack of hundred dollar bills on the table. "I am aware of the difficulties of protecting one of your fellow Justice League members. But I want my son to be safe. Just don't tell him. We don't want to upset him."

Damn it. 

If he had pulled the rich asshole, "I paid you so do your job" card, I'd have turned him down. But, the fact that he still cared, that he wanted to hire me rather than take shortcuts, the fact that they still listened and watched out for him.

I looked at his wife, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

And, bloody hell, it really was a stereotypical noir film opening.

I fell for the pretty lady.

I took the case.

After they left, I stared at the picture on the table. The one was your typical celebrity media photo that gets plastered on every paper, magazine, and tabloid. The other was a picture of one of the Justice League on a mission.

"Fuck." I said as I thought how I was going to manage to do my job in fucking Gotham City.

[landboundstar-writing]

Of Ghoulies And Ghosties Part 1

Repost from main blog and AO3. Please tip And reblog. TW: Some swearing Oh, and between language, some violence, and adult activities that are likely to be occurring throughout this whole story - Minors, this is not your story. Please find somewhere else to be. Summary for those that don't know - Thomas and Martha Wayne hire John Constantine to help investigate something that is a threat to their son. Yes, they are dead. No this is not stopping them. So John Constantine is going to be working in Gotham. What could possibly go wrong?

I came back from a walk to grab chips and curry and walked back into my own office.

And the beginning of an old detective movie.

Honestly, with some of my enemies, being trapped in a movie is not out of the question. So I will clarify.

I walked into my office, not a literal movie.

I just felt like I should be hearing a bloody sax playing in the background in black and white when I walked back into my office and saw who was standing there.

The woman stood, a long dark coat covering her dress, playing with a string of pearls at her throat, with her husband's arm around her shoulder.

"Well, hello." I crossed to the chair behind my desk, pulling the extra salt packets out of my pockets as I munched on a chip. "Why don't you have a seat?"

I didn't ask their names, but I didn't need to.

I had seen their pictures before.

The woman actually blushed a little as she sat down in the chair across from me.

"Mr. Constantine, I've heard our son talk about your skills."

I raised my eyebrow at that, but she continued talking.

"It wasn't to me, of course. But he speaks well of your preparedness, your detective work, and your magical talents."

I did wonder just what she had overheard and who it had been to. Because it had been nowhere I had ever heard him.

"Our son's in trouble. And I'm worried that, this time, it might break him. We want to hire you to help him find the problem and solve it." The man spoke.

They were sincere, bless them.

Just one problem.

"You know, as one of your son's friends, I hate to tell you but your son is a grown ass adult who does not like asking for help? In fact, he's known to be a bit paranoid about it at work."

I slid my hands towards the salt packets.

The man placed two pictures and a banded stack of hundred dollar bills on the table. "I am aware of the difficulties of protecting one of your fellow Justice League members. But I want my son to be safe. Just don't tell him. We don't want to upset him."

Damn it. 

If he had pulled the rich asshole, "I paid you so do your job" card, I'd have turned him down. But, the fact that he still cared, that he wanted to hire me rather than take shortcuts, the fact that they still listened and watched out for him.

I looked at his wife, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

And, bloody hell, it really was a stereotypical noir film opening.

I fell for the pretty lady.

I took the case.

After they left, I stared at the picture on the table. The one was your typical celebrity media photo that gets plastered on every paper, magazine, and tabloid. The other was a picture of one of the Justice League on a mission.

"Fuck." I said as I thought how I was going to manage to do my job in fucking Gotham City.