#john constantine best rat man

[dramamccringe]

[evilminji]

:T Hello there, Thought(tm) of the day...

I? Just remembered that Constantine's "Laughing Magician"(?) title is... f*ckin HEREDITARY?

Like?? As in The Constantine Meances have been out here, harrasing divinity and demons alike for GENERATIONS on behalf of a Good Time, the Lols, and probably Humanity if they can be arsed and you make a good case.

W... What chance would there even BE of at least like? HALF those f*ckers(conflicted but affectionate) NOT becoming Realms Ghosts? With the sh*t they're exposed too? With THEIR luck??

You think DEATH can trick them? Take them away for good? Take away the local Rat B@stard, Tricks Gods Just To See If He Can, Fate Is My Second Mistress and I Cuckold Glory On Your Mother's Bed, Constantine?

They run down main street, *ss in the breeze, wearing someone else's shirt and two shoes that don't match, not a stitch else, like run away lovers. Let Death TRY and catch them. Sorry, Luv, it's not them, it's definitely you.

..........I bet they're the wooooorst~~✨️

No joke, I bet they set up a whole *ss TOWN of Constantine.

Where the odds are in THEIR favor, gods fear to tread, and reality straight out stops working right. Like Diagonal Ally for B*stards, extended to a whole floating island. Everyone's related. It's Chaos. They can barely stand each other. Would sell each other for a toothpick.

Mess with ANY off them... and you can kiss your afterlife good bye.

They have NO neighbors because both no ones dumb enough to get NEAR them AND no one can stand to be around that many Constantines at once. The physical Manifestation of Fate wants to take the whole LOT of the handsy F*CKS to court for child support and a restraining order.

Somehow... they keep getting Earth Booze.

They SHOULDN'T have access. It's been anywhere from decade to centuries since they died. Millennium for a few. Howms't The F*CK, do they keep getting cheap gin and vodka? Bourbon and beer? Even the odd fruity cocktail for funnies.

Please... PLEASE! Tell the Zone at large, that their innate birthright powers STOPPED at Death. They... they are just REALLY good at smuggling right? Excellent con men?

Tell us they can't f*ckin PREDICT AND INFLUENCE Natural Portals!!!

*smug sipping noises from a large room full of Dead @ssholes*

Okay... They Won't Tell You~ 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺 *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip*

Now! I hear you ask? Why are John's Terrible, Terrible, God Awful Ghostly Relatives relevant? Absurdly powerful as they are... they seem to take the afterlife as an extended "Ha! GET F*CKED, DEMONS WHO WANTED MY SOUL!" Vacation/Family get together.

Minded their business and expected everyone to mind THEIRS, or ELSE.

Didn't give two solitary SH*TS that Pariah woke from his little nappy-poo to cause a tantrum. After all, in their family? When DOESN'T some "great and terrible Power That Be" get itself in a snit? Meh... it's baby Johnny's turn to clean sh*t up. Best of luck to 'im~!

But THEN!

They must've been drinking... making out with their equally terrible and bamf trainwreck significant others... sitting around playing "who can cheat best at cards"... when? Huh.

Never seen the Fate and The Odds... STRANGLE like that.

Billions of billions of What-Ifs, Maybes, Could-bes, and more... suddenly YANKED towards a single spot. The allowance of Only One Outcome. Almost like what they can do, but... not, WRONG, per say...

Just... impossible.

There's NEVER.. JUST one way this plays out. You can control the big notes. The script. But the details and set dressing will always decide themselves.

NO ONE can just... Decide What Will Happen. And yet?

...............was....... was that Little Johnny? Has to be. Right? Where's his old man? Oi! Was that your Kid??! John's closest relatives are baffled. Nope. They can still feel him laying a beat down on some demon in Norway. So then? Who?

How?

Well mark them CURIOUS(tm).

They decide to actually get up. Put their various drinks and cards down. Put pants on. Somebody's done something... INTERESTING(TM) and they want to know what's up. So? Off they trot.

It's traumatizing for everyone who sees them. The Constantines have breached f*ckin B*stard Containment and are spilling into the Zone. On this! The DAY Pariah Waged A War! THEY JUST GOT RID OF HIM!

And Danny? His everything hurts. The Eyeballs are starting to come out of the woodwork and ARGUE about him like he's not even there. He's DANGEROUS blah blah blah. Give them the crown. Right now! Etc etc.

Somethings telling him not too.

It's... it's HIS isn't it? Has been for centuries and seconds. And... and... everyone one of him is King. There is only one of him. The Zone covers all the multiverse and all of the Hims that were and aren't here and helped and... and...! His head is starting to hurt.

But the more they try to push him to hand it over, the less he feels like unhanding the dang gaudy thing. No. His now. He'll use it as a DOOR stopper if he dang well feels like it! Stop yelling.

Then all these blonde ghosts saunter in... and all he can think is "F*ck. I think they noticed."

Huh?

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites @bjurnberg @the-witchhunter @hdgnj

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 23

Au where Danny hides his powers and eldrich nature from his husband Tim and Tim hides his vigilante career from Danny.

Both are very successful and neither suspects a thing. Tim had originally planned to admit to being a hero at some point but they were always either interrupted or it just wasn't the right time and then Danny had mentioned a few times during thier engagement and marriage that he couldn't handle being with a superhero or vigilante and that it was a deal breaker. Unfortunately Tim was already deeply in love and couldn't bare to break up with him so now he lives in fear of Danny finding out and blackmailed the rest of the family into never letting it slip.

Danny is in a similar situation, ever since the portal incident people were afraid of his other half and no matter how hard he tried they always ended up hating him. He loved Tim and couldn't bare the thought of his husband having that same look of terror. Of hate. So he hid. Its all he could do. Back when he and his friends went on that road trip and gained the power of the reality gauntlet he had tried to undo his undeath entirely only to find out Danny had glitches spacetime enough that even if he undid it (which the gauntlet was incapable of doing) he would eventually wind up with the portal opening up on top of him at another date. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you like. He was stuck like this.

So he did the next best thing. He erased any proof he had ever existed. Even from the minds of his own friends. He then skipped town-or in this case universes- and used the gauntlets power to carve out a false identity in this new world full of heroes and hope

Luckly there was no one who could rat him out...until some blond guy in a trenchcoat started following him around the grocery store and talking to him. At first Danny was a little confused and annoyed but when he asked what the blond guy wanted he asked, "I wanna know what you are." And Danny went pale.

Constantine then proceeded to blackmail Danny into helping him with a case or else he would expose his dirty little secret to Tim.

Danny made the a deal, ensuring that it would only be this one time. He told Tim that he was being blackmailed but insinuated that it was something petty between him and some of the other high society house spouses. The kind of drama that Tim always made extra sure to steer clear of. He swore to Tim he was this close to spiking Bethanys muffins with a laxative in retaliation for something and Tim gave helper suggestions for how to do it without being caught while they got ready for the day.

Ever since Alfred passed away it was up to Danny and a few other people to keep the Waynes from falling apart. Honestly, no one realized how much that man did until he wasn't around anymore.

To be fair he pretty much spoiled Tim by picking up after him to the point the man can't function after a few days. If Danny ever had to leave Tim alone for prolonged periods of time he would return to a giant mess and something burning in the kitchen.

Danny would clean, Tim would spew a fountains worth of apologizes, he would forgive Tim (as if he was ever mad in the first place. This just reaffirmed that Tim needed him to protect and care for him, making his core vibrate in happiness) then they would...reacquaint themselves. He nearly shifted forms the first few times this happened. That would be one heck of a way for Tim to find out about his ghost half.

Danny smiled, thinking about those memories. He truly adored Tim and couldn't imagine a life without him. He would just have to make sure this trench coated guy never came anywhere near his precious husband.

John would really like to know what this entity was and what it wanted with the Wayne brat. It couldn't really be in love with the kid, could it? He had personally seen these relationships work out before but there many more he had seen that hadn't. He didn't want to take that risk, so he needed to get close enough to evaluate the situation himelf.

[soulmate-game]

Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

[marisfavoritedcandvertigostuff]

At the Movies

I went and saw The Suicide Squad last night. Honestly, I like DC movies, so I was really looking forward to this, despite having very low expectations because they usually suck. Thankfully, expectations were exceed! Spoilers Below!

I loved Harley. Unfortunately, I relate to her very much. My last relationship was a long-term abusive one that has left me more-or less afraid of trying again. That and the instability that comes with mental illness and how isolating it can be. I know it’s considered by some to be “basic” or “hopping on the bandwagon” if you like Harley, but I’m not bothered by that. John Constantine may be my favorite character from DC, but Harley is the one I relate to the most. Margot Robbie was too perfect precious in this film.

I expected a lot of deaths, but I am really sad about Boomerang. RIP bro. Also very sad about Rick Flag.

I may not have liked Peace-bro, but John Cena was excellent. He came to class that day prepared for the assignment and he got 100% on the test.

Also, we need to talk about Polka-dot Man. He was trying his fucking best the entire film. I just wanted to hug him the whole film.

Rat Catcher 2 was the soul of this film. Sebastian was the perfect little buddy and I wanted to hug them both! It was her big moment at the end of the film that actually made me cry. I teared up when Harley did her monologue when she killed the president of Corto Maltese, but I wasn’t crying until that scene. 10/10.

Idris Elba did a FANTASTIC job as Bloodsport, but we already expected that going in. I think his background narrative, the relationship with his daughter, was messy in the grand scheme of things, but that’s the writing and editing. He was perfect.

And of course King Shark. I was really looking forward to him since I loved him in the comics. I was pleased! I hated that the others left him out at times because he is really a sweetie!

I had a fun time. I didn’t expect to cry. Will probly buy on DVD/Blu ray.

[everlastingdreams]

BETA John Constantine x Reader : Heaven And Hell Chapter 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Summary:  The reader has been travelling alone for a while now, running from her demons. When soon she finds herself dealing with real ones. At first she appears to be just a psychic, but as time passes John finds himself wondering if that is all she is. The rising darkness is coming closer everyday, what part does she come to play ?

Notes:  Damn, the start is always hard to write isn’t it ? This is just the very first chapter of this story. I will follow the whole damn show lol Also, this is the beta.

Chapter: 1/?

Word count: 7056

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Water splashed beneath your feet as you walked home in a fast pace. You had spend some time with your friends after school and lost track of time. You were expected home soon. It was spring time so luckily it wasn't dark soon and the walk home was only a few minutes and there was always a lot of people on the street that you knew since you you were very little. It could be a bit awkward for your 10 year old self when Gerda from the newspaper stand would pinch your cheek when she saw you walk by, but at least you felt safe knowing there was always someone making sure you were getting home safely.

You started walking on the last street to your home and checked your watch for the time again. When you looked up you noticed how a man was sitting on the ground, in the rain, his hand outstretched to all the passer-by's. He pleaded to each of them and all ignored his existence.

You thought about crossing the street as you were taught to do but you didn't feel unsafe here so you decided to keep walking on this side.

When you finally reached the man on the ground, you stopped. He didn't stretch his hand out to you  as he kept his head low. You reached in the pockets of your jacket and took out the small amount of coins you owned. Your family wasn't rich, often the opposite, but seeing someone in the pouring rain and turning a blind eye wasn't something you wanted to do.

You stretched your hand out to him while you held the coins “Excuse me, sir.”

He looked up, a little suprised.

You nodded to your hand holding the coins.

His eyes fell on the coins before he looked up at you again “Are you sure, child ? You could buy yourself something to eat with this.”

You were suprised by his manner of speech and his reaction. You were hungry, however. But this person was clearly going through worse things then just hunger. And maybe all you could do was help him with that.

You gave him a nod “I'll be fine” and you let the coins fall into his hand.

“Thank you.” he said quietly and you turned, walking away again before you would be home late.

“Child !” the man called for you and you walked back to him. He stretched out his closed hand and nodded to it. You opened your hand and he let a necklace slide into your small hands. That suprised you. On the necklace was a round pendant it had a cross and angel wings on it, the rest was unclear to you and when you turned it around it had, what looked like skeletons, crawling over stuff. You turned the pendant over a couple of times before you looked down to the man again and you stretched your hand out, wanting to give it back to him.

He shook his head and chuckled a little as he took hold of your hand and closed it, making you hold the pendant in your hand “Oh no, young one. You will need this.” His mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile but changed his mind.

“Why ?” you furrowed your brows, confused as to why someone who clearly needs more help would give away one of their few possesions.

“In time, we will need you.”

His explanation just confused you more “Who is 'we' ?” you asked politely.

He ignored your question “You should head home. You don't want your parents to worry about you.”

You nodded to the strange man, and put the necklace over your head as it was a bit too big for you for now.

“Thank you.” you quickly said and started walking again.

You were sure you were going to be late now, you walked a little faster and glanced at your watch and stopped when you saw the time.

It was like the watch hadn't moved the entire time you spoke with the man. You checked and saw that the watch was still working as it finally ticked to the next minute. You looked behind you and saw that the man was no longer sitting on the ground. He was gone, as if he was never even there in the first place. The only thing that helped you believe that it wasn't a dream was the necklace around your neck.

Years later...

You were driving down the last bit of the dirt road you had been following for about 2 minutes. The place you were called to was a former farmhouse, no farming was done there anymore however. It wasn't the first time someone had heard about your 'gifts', even when you tried to keep a low profile word still got around. The man who had called you heard about you through a local priest that you had once met with. The man had spoken to the priest about his strange problems concerning his house, the priest had tried to help him but was unsuccesfull.

The man had called you, asking if you would be able to help. He was hearing things but only inside the house. Scratching and sometimes whispers. Stuff would move as well. You could hear the fear in his voice through the phone. You agreed to meet him at his house to see if you could help him with his problem.

You pulled up on the driveway of the house. The man was waiting outside for you already and you walked up to him.

“Good afternoon, Mister Peterson. I'm y/n l/n.” you held out your hand.

He shook your hand “Good afternoon. Thank you for coming, please just call me Harold.”

You nodded “Alright, Harold. So this is the place ?” you tilted your head to the door.

He sighed deeply “Yeah.” he walked to the door and held it open for you, you stepped inside and almost immediately you could hear it.

“It's been doing that for the last hour again.”

“And you had people check for rats or other reasons, correct ?” you walked further in the house towards the noise.

“I did, they found nothing. No rats, no mice, no busted pipes, nothing.” he followed you into the kitchen where you stopped.

You had visited people's homes before, everytime it was just a spirit trying to seek contact with their loved ones. You had managed to send them all on their way when the familly had gotten their closure.

But this was different, the scratching wasn't something you would usually hear. Voices ? Yes. Shadows ? Yes . Scratching ? No.

You walked around the room a bit as the sound continued.

“When they came to check, they never heard it, the scratching I mean. Like it only makes itself known if it's just me.” Harold stood in the doorway.

You nodded, you had hear that one before. It could drive people insane and make them desperate. “They were never going to find anything. Or hear the scratching. Whatever is doing this, it's doing this to torment you. Drive you over the edge, isolate you, make you feel like you can't escape an invisible enemy.” you listened to the sound again.

“So..you think it's really a ghost ?” Harold swayed a little uncomfortable.

You clicked your tongue “I'm not sure. The scratching... it's not something I've heard before. It could be a malevolent spirit or-” you stopped yourself from saying the word, knowing it wasn't smart to cause the man more fear.

Before he could ask you about it, you spoke again “Please don't think that I am being rude, but I need to be alone in here for a bit. I can't really focus when someone is around, and I really need to be focused.”

Harold looked around the room before he stood upright “Uh.. alright.. I'll leave you to it then.” he paused for a second “Do I close the door ?” he asks.

You nodded “Yes, please. I'll call for you when I'm finished or if I have a question.”

He gave a short nod and closed the door. The moment the door was closed the scratching got louder as if it had been waiting for this moment. You couldn't really figure out where the sound was coming from exactly, only that it was coming from this room. You wondered if you could trigger a vision and stepped close to the wall. You reached for it but before you could place your hand on the wall of the room, Harold knocked on the door of the room.

“It's okay. You can come in.” you called out.

Harold opened the door a little, probably afraid to be face to face with a ghost, as he only poked his head past the door to look at you “Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you but there was a guy at the door and he insisted that he knew you. Said you two worked together.”

You frowned at that, you had no idea what Harold was talking about considering the fact that you always worked alone.

You stepped away from the wall “I'm afraid I don't- ”

The door opened wider and a man brushed past Harold rather rudely. You arched a brow at the blond-haired guy.

“'Scuse me, mate. Sorry I'm late to the party, luv. Traffic. You know how it goes.” he directed it to you as if you knew him. You obviously saw straight through his bullshit.

Harold was looking at him suspiciously and so were you.

“Look, I don't know-” you started to speak but the guy pulled a card from the pocket of his coat and handed it to you.

You stared at the card for a moment. Was this guy for real ?.. Did he seriously have a business card for this ?

“I don't know what entity is housing in this place either, but we'll figure it out. Won't we ?” he turned to you again, he was hoping you would play along.

You looked at him annoyed, this guy had the nerve to just burst into this place and interupt you.

You wanted to tell him to leave. But you looked at the card again and maybe, just maybe, this guy was for real.

“Sure thing.” you gave him your best fake smile, your eyes were probably shooting daggers. “Harold, we'll handle it from here. I'll call you when you can come in the room again.”

Harold gave a short nod and left the room again, closing the door behind him.

“So, Mister Constantine.” you flicked the card between your fingers “Wanna tell me why you're here ?” you weren't going to just act all friendly to a guy who just showed up and pulled you into a lie.

He turned  to you in slight suprise “I was wondering the same about you, looks like we're here for the same reason, luv. No need to be afraid.”

You scoffed loudly at that “Let me make something clear here. I am not afraid of you..” you held up the card he had given you and took a few steps in his direction “Oh Master of the dark arts.” you mocked.

He looked at you for a moment, as if he wasn't sure how to react. Then he smirked “Not fond of competition, I see.”

You shook your head biting your tongue, you had a feeling he was arrogant the second he walked in and you were right to think so.

“This isn't a competition. Constantine.” you stepped closer to him “At least, not for me.” you lightly smacked your hand to his chest and let go of the card. He catched the card against his chest before it could fall.

“This is people's lives. I do this to help them. I'm not pissed at you because you might be better at this, I'm pissed because you waltzed in here, lying your ass off and I don't trust you. That and I was getting ready to solve the mystery that haunts this house, I don't like to be interupted when doing these things.” you kept your voice low as you spoke, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Ever heard of a scry map ?” he seemed reluctant to tell you this.

You arched a brow “ A what now ?”

He took a step towards you “A scry map. It detects supernatural activity in the city. If something is happening, the place on the map gets..highlighted. And this place lit up like a christmas tree.”

His explanation did sound trustworthy, you didn't know how else he could have even found out about this place or that it was haunted by something.

“So, what now ? I don't like to work with other people.” you shrugged and crossed your arms.

He smirked and you knew he clearly didn't plan on just leaving “I prefer to work alone myself, but I'm guessing were stuck in the situation, luv.”

"Why do you keep calling me 'luv' ? I got a name you know." "Wasn't able to pull that information out of ol' Harry when I was at the door. Just told him I knew ya, hoped he would mention your name but he didn't." he explained. "Hah, I thought we were friends ?" You fake pouted. He stood a little awkwardly and you felt bad for him "It's y/n l/n." "That will make things a bit easier, luv." This time you visibly rolled your eyes at him

Loud scratching close to your feet made you jump backwards, you looked to the floor but nothing was there.

Constantine took a few quick steps to you, his expression alarmed “What is it ? What's wrong ?” he looked to the floor as well.

“Did you hear that ??” you kept looking at the floor, scanning for whatever it was that cause it.

He focused on your face now, his eyes narrowing when he did “Hear what, luv ?”

You looked at him and realised that he had no idea what had just happened “The very loud scratching.. you didn't hear it ?”

He looked to the floor again “No. I didn't.” he looked back to you “But somehow you did, which makes me wonder..”

“What ?” you were still startled.

“Do you see or hear things often that other people don't ?” he looked around the room, scanning it as well.

“Are you trying to call me crazy ?” you calmed down a bit. Your annoyance with him was getting stronger then your fear.

He chuckled “I'm the last person who should be able to call you that, believe me. I meant, do you get visions, hear spirits ?”

You thought for a second, thinking about saying no, but then again this guy was an exorcist and what not. If you sounded crazy, so did he.

“I've been having them since I was very young. As I grew older, they grew stronger. More frequent.” you tried to shrug it off. It wasn't the first time you had told someone you could hear and see things.

“A psychic then.” he concluded “Not the type one should call when dealing with this.”

You narrowed your eyes at him “Are you saying that I can't handle this ?”

He walked around in the kitchen a bit “I'm saying you shouldn't handle this alone.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Then the scratching started again, this time close to where Constantine was standing. It didn't startle you this time and you marched to where he was standing.

He almost stumbled back at your quick pace “What-”

“Shut up.” you whispered as you kneeled and placed your hands on the wooden floor.

He understood what you were doing and kneeled down next to you, waiting for you to speak.

You didn't even have to focus much before you saw people, sitting together at the dinner table in this kitchen. A young woman and what looked like her boyfriend were in light conversation, laughing and smiling. You couldn't hear what they were saying.

You blinked once and the vision was gone. It wasn't what you were expecting to see, especially not with the scratching. You had expected something..scary ?

Constantine was watching your facial expressions “What did you see ?”

You blinked again, almost having forgotten that he was next to you, you pointed at the dinner table in the room “A woman and her boyfriend, I think, sitting at that table. They were enjoying their meal.”

You were a little disappointed that you didn't get anything usefull from the vision. You slapped your hands on your knees and pushed yourself off of the ground sighing.

Constantine was still kneeling on the floor, he knocked the floor a few times before he stood up as well “HARRY !” he shouted suddenly and you almost jumped. Why was he so loud ?!

“It's harold !” you corrected him and he just smirked at you again. He knew.

Harold opened the door a little hesitantly “Is it gone yet ?”

Constantine looked at you then back to Harold “I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated, we'll have to look around the place for a bit. You don't mind do ya ?”

Harold looked at the two of you worried “Uuuh..”

“It will make things easier. Can't send this thing away if we don't know what we're dealing with.” Constantine took of his jacket and put it on the chair.

“Okay. Sure. I'll stay here then ?” Harold asked a little awkwardly.

You took a step towards Harold “If you don't mind, of course ? We won't be nosey. We just have to get a bit more information on this thing.”

Harold nodded.

Constantine walked past him and opened the door, you followed him. You had set one foot past him before he spoke again “Oh, just one more thing, do you have a basement ?”

Harold seemed suprised at the question “Not that I know of.. no.”

“Alright, well. See you in a bit then.” he said before closing the door, leaving Harold in the kitchen on his own. You felt a drop of water fall on your jacket in the hallway, you looked up and saw that there was water dripping down slowly. It didn't come as a suprise to you, the house was rather old.

“Are we seriously leaving him alone in a room with all that scratching going on ?” you didn't get this guy at all. And he didn't seem to act very professional, at least not compared to his card.

“He'll be fine for now. But we have to find this thing before it get stronger and manifests itself.” he walked towards the stairs “It's not a demon, if that's what you're worried about.” he looked over his shoulder at you as he walked to the stairs.

“How do you know that ?” you followed him up the stairs.

“The smell, mostly. That and a demon wouldn't just wait all this time. It would make it's presence very clear.” he reached the top of the stairs and waited for you.

You were about to take the last step but then you froze as another vision took over.

You looked behind you, down the stairs and saw a man running up, his face full of blood. He was running for his life and you could feel his fear. It looked like he was going to run right into you and you stumbled backwards. A hand gripping your arm snapped you back to reality. You almost fell over the baluster but Constantine was quick to react and prevented it.

“Alright there, luv ?” his eyes were wide as he held onto your arm and guided you safely up the last steps.

You shook your head, your body trembling a bit “I had another vision..”

“What happened ?” he held onto your shoulders as you looked at the stairs, trying to catch your breath.

“That guy from my other vision, the boyfriend ?” you drew a breath “He was running up these stairs. His face was bleeding badly. I could feel his fear, he was running for his life. Something was chasing him.” you doubted you would ever forget the sight.

Constantine let go of one of your shoulders, giving the other a squeeze to keep you focused “Did you see what was chasing him.”

You shook your head again “No, but whatever it was, it's was trying to kill him.”

He gave a nod, before pulling you a bit further away from the stairs again. “I wonder who the people in your vision were.” he put his hands in his pockets “ I haven't seen any familly pictures in here, could have been the previous tenants. Let's check here first.”

He tilted his head in the direction of a door “Your visions are getting stronger aren't they ? You were even able to pick up the fear the guy felt.” he walked inside first and clicked on the light. It was a bedroom. “But you're not in control of your visions, it's a dangerous thing. Makes me think that you haven't learned how to control them.”

“Didn't realise that being a psychic comes with a manual.” you replied drily as you stepped into the room after him. "I was very young when I first started seeing things, my parents just brushed it off as a vivid imagination. When I got older, my visions.. they started to get more clear. I could understand them better. When I got older and made friends that weren't imaginery, my friends thought it was exciting, me being able to see shadows..visions. That didn't last long once I told one of them that I saw her father's death. She thought I was messing with them. A couple of days later, her father died. Just like I saw it in my vision. None of them spoke to me again, I think they believed that I had a part to play in that man's death." You let out a light scoff when you thought back on it. "So you are right, I'm not an experienced... whatever." You couldn't find the right word "But with the little I know, I have helped people, helped them to process the deaths of their loved ones, made it known to them that their spirits were at rest. But I haven't actually done anything other then seeking contact with spirits. I only know a summon spell or two for that." You admitted.

John swayed a bit on his feet "A lot of people.. well most of 'em can't handle the idea that there are things in our world, that aren't supposed to be here. Their minds.." he clicks his tongue "..maybe it's for the best. Imagine what the world would be like if this thing we do was normal." You let out a chuckle at the idea "It would be the damn apocalypse." "Exactly, and we don't want that. So, don't pay attention to the people who don't understand what it is like." Constantine walked past you, stopped and looked at you past his shoulder "And for that spell part, carefull with those. It's not just friendly ghosts hearing you, luv." You followed him into the next room "Yeah, I'm aware." He picked up a photo frame and looked at it "So, tell me. Why would a medium, wannabe mage, come to a haunted house in the middle of nowhere ?" You resisted the urge to flip him the finger "A priest that helped me once, asked if I would check this out. He doesn't know anyone else who deals with this sort of thing." You explained and he put the frame down. "Still, what would you have done if the thing here isn't just a friendly Casper ?" He strutted around the room, knocking the walls a bit. "I've seen enough horror movies to know that getting the hell out of here would be my best bet." You eyed him curiously. "Maybe next time, ask for an excorsist first. Preferably one that dabbles in the dark arts. If you really want Hell out of this place, that is." He played on your words. You sat down on the bed in the room "I prefer to work alone, sorry." "And why is that ? if you don't mind me asking. Most mediums are better when teaming up with others." Constantine seemed interested in the answer. The answer to a question people have asked you before, the answer you have locked away because it was too painfull. You opened your mouth to lie, but he suddenly focused on the bathroom door. You wanted to ask what was wrong but he held up his hand, silencing you.

Then you heard it. "Do you hear that ? I can hear something but the noise is faint." He took a few steps to the bathroom door and you got up from the bed, following him. You focused on the noise and within seconds the noise became clear to you, louder "It sounds like someone is crying." You told him. He nodded and pushed you aside gently before he slowly opened the door. He stepped inside carefully "Can you still hear it ?" You gave a quick nod, your eyes scanned the room and then you froze. He was far more relaxed then you and that's how you knew he couldn't see what you were seeing. He wanted to step further into the room but you grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him from doing so. He was suprised at your sudden action, first looking at your hand on his arm before his eyes focused on your face. The moment he did, his expression became serious. He stepped back until he was standing next to you. Your eyes never left the figure your were seeing, holding their knees to their chest as they were weeping. Short brown curly hair hiding their face. The dress she was wearing was torn and bloody.

After another moment of just starring at the sight you slowly stepped forward until you were just a few steps away from the spirit, you looked over your shoulder to Constantine. You hated to admit that you felt a bit safer having an exorcist there. He followed close behind you, and you felt him put a hand on your shoulder "I can see her too now. Careful." he whispered. You gave a nod and looked back to the ghost "Hey..." striking up a conversation with a ghost like this wasn't something you had done before. You could use that manual now. She started to lift her head up and a bunch of horror movie cliches jumped through your mind. Her hair was wet, something dark making it stick together. When she finally looked in your direction, her eyes were wide, filled with fear. She put a finger to her lips, motioning for you to stay quiet.

"Leave." You almost didn't hear it as her voice was so quiet. "Sorry ?" "While you still can." She whispered through her sobs. You didn't move and hoped she would give you more information. "LEAVE !" She shouted the word so loud that it made your ears hurt. But that wasn't what made you tumble back and scramble away in terror. She vanished as if she had never been there at all. You continued to scramble backwards until you felt yourself being pulled up of the ground. Constantine stood behind you and had pulled you off of the ground. It didn't look like his ears were ringing, he didn't seem affected at all. "Alright, it's alright, just breath. She's gone." He stood next to you now and held you by your upper arms. "You're looking pretty pale there." "I could feel it... like a wave crushing down on me when she shouted..." you were feeling rather dizzy. He studied your face as if he was looking for wounds "What did you sense ?" You looked at the spot she had been sitting at "Fear. Horrible fear. " you looked at him "whatever happened to her... she was terrified."

“Something's definitely going on in this place.” he looked over your shoulder, his eyes shortly locking on the spot where you had seen the woman. “Let's get you downstairs before you blow a fuse.”

Nodding, you followed him and stumbled a bit before he took your arm and guided you.

Constantine helped you down the stairs, Harold stepped out of the kitchen as he heard the two of you coming down the old creaky stairs and looked confused. "Get her a glass of water will ya, mate ?" Constantine said to Harold as he helped you down the last steps. Harold quickly nodded and went back into the kitchen. Constantine followed him into the kitchen with you and Harold was quick with giving you a glass of water. "Thank you." you gave a gratefull smile as you took the glass from his hands.

You took a swig from the glass and swallowed. Then frowned, the sensation you felt was... odd. It felt as if the water was still in your mouth so you swallowed again, but it didn't help. You grabbed your throat and started to panic, you couldn't breath. Oh no, you knew this vision was going to be bad. Constantine was beside you instantly when he saw that something was very wrong, seconds later you fell to the floor. You tried to gasp for air but only more water went into your mouth and soon all you saw was water all around you. You felt something around your throat, pressing down on your chest, your head.. something was preventing you from trying to escape. Then to your suprise, you were able to grab hold of what was keeping you under and you tried to fight the hands that kept pushing you down. Suddenly your vision became clearer and that's when you saw Harold's face. You thought the vision was finally over but then you realised there was still water everywhere. Harold smilled down at you wickedly. The hands left your neck and you couldn't move, that's when you learned the truth. This had been the last moments of the drowned woman in the bathroom. And then as quick as it had started, the vision stopped. You gasped for air and coughed loudly, relieved that that nightmare was over. Constantine looked down at you in horror as he shook your form "y/n ! y/n ! Please, talk to me !" You looked at him and then you looked at Harold, your sight a bit blurry from the lack of air "You killed them.. it wasn't a demon or a monster.. it was you." your voice raspy.

For a moment the space was so silent that you could have heard a needle drop.

Constantine looked down at you as the reality dawned on him as well, then Harold moved away from the both of you. Harold quickly runned over to a cupboard and pulled out a gun. Constantine saw what was happening, or he had a hunch. He pulled you up from the ground again and hoped he could at least get you out of harm's way.

Harold pumped the shotgun “Don't even think about it !” he shouted as he aimed the gun at you.

“Easy there.. let's not make a mess here.” Constantine put his hands up and you did the same.

Harold's calm and friendly attitude had taken a turn "I called you here to get rid of them, not chit-chat with them. Look what you are forcing me to do !" He kept his aim on you.

“You killed all these people.. why ?” you looked at him in disgust.

Harold laughed as if it was a dumb question “Everyone has a hobby. Some like to fish, some like sports. The weather can get bad here, sometimes people end up with a flat tire and no place to stay.”

Constantine looked at him in disgust, his eyes were cold “And that's where good old Harry came in to save the day.”

Harold nodded and smirked “It was so easy.”

Your stomach turned “You're a monster ! No wonder these spirits are making your life miserable, you deserve it !”

“You're lucky I need you to get rid off them, you wouldn't be talking anymore if I didn't.” he threathened. John kept his hand up a little "Easy there, Harold. She won't be able to send those spirits away, there's too many and she's only a medium. You're barking up the wrong tree here. I'm the only one here who can send them on their way." John was clearly trying to pull Harold's attention away from you. And it seemed like it was working as his eyes darted between you and John before he aimed the gun on John. All you could think about was how many times someone had lost their life around you. You had a gift but it was as if you were also cursed. Feeling like you were the opposite of a good luck charm. You had to do something, or else this would not end well.

You barely knew a summoning spell, and the one you did know had failed you more then once, leaving it up to the spirits to contact you if they wished to do so.

But you knew you had to try.

You started to whisper the spell to call upon the spirit of his victim.

“You who lingers here, hear my plea.

I call you from my soul to yours.

Come back from the shadows into the light and show yourself here.

Help us fight the darkness so we may bring forth the light.”

You felt the pendant starting to glow, it rarely did.

You felt the room get cold, very cold. The room filled with the spirits of the people who had lost their lives to Harold, including the young woman you had seen before. But this time, she was not weeping. John looked around the room before discreetly glancing your way. Disbelief and shock written all over his face. To be fair, you never thought you would be able to bring all the spirits out. You had directed it to the woman in the bathroom. Harold stepped back in terror as he saw what was happening. The gun flew from his hand across the room and the young woman appeared in front of him. She grabbed him by the neck and screamed a deafening scream. Harold let out a scream as she attacked him and soon the other spirits got involved. You wondered if you should try and save him, but when you saw the spirits, many young women, men, children.. you didn't. Maybe you couldn't even save him. You let them drag him down into the wooden floor that was cracking open. Before he was dragged down completely, he tried to scream but only water came from his mouth, then they pulled him down. The room was silent, there were no screams, no scratching, nothing. You could only hear yourself breathing. John stood motionless as he watched the hole in the floor. You carefully walked to it and pulled out your phone and switched on the light and shone it into the hole. "Looks like you'll be able to grant the spirits their rest." You told John after seeing what was down there. He snapped out of it and walked up to you and peered down as well. The hole had uncovered a basement holding Harold's secret as it held the skeletons of the victims. "Damnit." Constantine sighed at the sight and you clicked of the light. "The scratching I heard..” you thought back to it.

“It was them, they were trying to warn us all this time.” he looked at you oddly.

“What ?” you asked oblivious to why he was looking at you that way.

He stepped away from the hole and you followed him as he plopped down on the chair where he had left his coat when he first got here “How did you do that ?”

You were confused for a moment before it clicked “I just said the only summoning spell I knew and hoped for the best.”

He looked at you, a brow raised “ You're a psychic that has barely any experience summoning spirits. Yet you just summoned what ? Twenty spirits into this room, and you did it so well that they were able to manifest themselves physically.”

“It wasn't my intention for the spirits to attack him. I was trying to make them appear so we could catch him off guard. I don't know how they were able to physically attack him." "Could be another effect of the rising darkness." Constantine muttered. "What ?" Confussion washed over you. He sighed before explaining " It's been happening all over the city. A dark energy is leaking into our world somehow. Making things that are normally weak or calm become strong and act erratic.

“You mean like the apocalypse ?” that didn't sound good at all, rising darkness ? Seriously?

“'Fraid so.” he dragged a hand across his face. “But I'm working on it, whatever is happening, it won't be able to hide much longer.”

You nodded and sat on another chair, your eyes focused on the hole

“Everything I felt since I walked into this place is what they felt in their last moments. They wanted me to feel it so I could help them." you shook your head and swallowed the lump in your throat. "They must have seen something in you that they didn't see in me. I'll admit I wouldn't 've been able to do this without your help. I probably would have ended up like them if it weren't for you." he admitted. "I never would have known what happened here if they hadn't shown me. He just seemed like any regular person." You whispered to yourself mostly. "Not all monsters hide under beds." he stood up and walked to the hole "Some hide in plain sight.”

He stretched his arms out “Ever seen spirits pass over ?”

You shook your head “No. I've seen them vanish but never the whole..leaving your body and bones behind part.”

He smiled at you over his shoulder before looking at the hole in the floor again “Well then, stay silent and watch.”

You stood up quietly and watched as he spoke the words and soon you could see the souls dance into the air seconds before they disappeared forever.

“Are they free now ?” you asked him.

He nodded as he put on his coat “They are. Do you have the number of the priest that send you here ?”

“Yeah, why ?” why did he want the number of the priest.

He pulled out his phone “I should have a chat with him, make him see that he should call me too next time before he sends a young woman out in the middle of nowhere.”

You rolled your eyes, but he was right. This could have ended very badly for you.

“Shouldn't we call the cops ?” someone must be looking for these victims.

“I'll call my contact, but we should get out of here before the cavalry arrives then.” he pushed in the number of the priest as you read it out to him.

“There's people in the police force that believe in this kind of stuff ?” you chuckled at the thought.

He put his phone back into his pocket “There's mages, psychics and other kinds of magical beings everywhere around us. The police force is no different.”

“I've never actually met anyone like me.” you admitted. Never once had you met anyone like him either.

“And I haven't met anyone like you either, never seen an untrained psychic with a gift like yours.” he looked at you admirable.

You didn't like the word 'gift', you saw it more as a curse after all the things it had cost you“Thanks. You're not that bad either, Mister Constantine.”

“Just call me John.” he winked at you.

Was he seriously trying to flirt with you here ? Next to a hole with skeletons ?

“Alright, John.” you stood a bit awkwardly.

“Usually I work alone, but you seem like someone who can handle herself. What do you say we go and see if we can help some other poor sods ?” he looked nervous “I could teach you how to control your powers, maybe even refine them.”

You were grinning “Are you asking me to come with you ?”

He cleared his throat before looking at you “I am.”

You swallowed, no matter how much you wanted to say yes, you couldn't. Your gift hadn't brought anything but misery to those around you, you doubted it would be different with John.

“I'm sorry.. I can't.” you felt horrible when you saw the disappointed look in his eyes, he really did want you to go with him.

“I understand. What I do...it's not for everyone.” he swallowed.

You smiled softly “I'm sure the great master of the dark arts, will be fine without me.”

He chuckled at your choice of words, looking down for a moment before looking back up to you “It's been a pleasure, luv. Maybe our paths will cross again someday.”

You nodded hopefully “Maybe they will.” you reached out your hand to him, he took your hand in his and shook it softly. You froze for a moment as the touch of his hand on yours triggered a short vision of him as a child. You snapped out of it so fast that he hadn't even realised it that you just had a vision.

He let go of your hand and your vision made you look at this man in a different light. Even as a child, he had seen monsters. Human ones.

“Goodbye, John. Maybe I'll see you around.” you said your goodbyes as you both walked out of the house.

“I hope so, y/n.” he smirked at you one last time as you got into your car and drove away.

CHAPTER 2

[rocket-roach]

SuperWonderBat Mini Exchange

written for the ever so talented, effervescent, and amazingly talented @androbeaurepaire - the trinity gets de-aged, because Bruce just had to track down a witch. Now he’s a baby, and Clark’s at a loss.

It happened to Bruce first. They’d all fallen asleep, arms and legs tangled together underneath fine Egyptian cotton sheets. Clark always woke up first. He’d rub at his eyes, walk to the window, and take in the first bright rays of the day. Diana would wake when Bruce grumbled at the loss of Clark’s warmth at his side.

Usually with a curse.

But that morning, there was no grumpy cussing. There was, in fact, the sound of a baby gearing up for a truly colossal wail. He was at the bed in a flash, catching Diana’s hand that had flown up, ready to strike at the new arrival.

“Where’s Bruce?” She asked, making a face at his hand holding her back. “Seriously? I would’ve stopped before I hit. Is that a baby?”

Clark finally released her hand, and together they pulled the bedsheets back.

A chubby, black haired, blue eyed baby was nearly swallowed by Bruce’s boxers. His tiny fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were red. The Kryptonian sat down, gently picking the baby up. He couldn’t hear the reverberating bass beat of Bruce’s heart. But this baby’s heart beat in a quicker, but similar cadence.

“There’s magic at work here,” Diana murmured as she sat up. She offered her finger to the still wailing baby, who loosened his fist long enough to take it. “He kind of looks like Bruce, doesn’t he?”

“Di,” Clark murmured. “I think this is Bruce.”

The baby stopped wailing.

“Oh, Hera help us.”

His children found it hilarious. There were more Wayne children in the manor now than there had been in a long time. Dick and Jason took turns carrying Bruce around. Tim had brought diapers and pacifiers when he arrived, Cass and Damian had helped teach Duke how to hold the head. Alfred had been lurking in the shadows with a camera, snapping photo after photo. They had a family dinner together, and Clark held Bruce, letting him sleep on his shoulder. Then the time for patrol came, and they all filed out for the evening. Diana held Bruce on her hip as they climbed to the master suite.

“Have you ever thought about it?” She asked as Clark shut the door behind them.

“Thought about what?”

“The three of us, having a baby,” The amazon murmured as she laid on her back, with Bruce resting on her chest. “I know we have Bruce’s kids and your kids and my girls. But, I do want a baby. With the both of you.”

“I would love that, would you, Bruce?” He asked, his index finger lifting Bruce’s little chin up.

Bruce's snot bubble popped.

“I think he loves it, too,” Clark laughed.

Bruce scrunched his face up, his tiny fist swatting Clark’s finger from his chin. Diana sniffed.

“It’s your turn to change his diaper,” She said after a beat. She held Bruce to Clark like an offering, a smirk on her face.

He took Bruce, holding him at arm’s length. Damned with his heightened senses, he made quick work of the ruined diaper and Bruce.

“You’re awfully stinky, you know that?” He cooed as they left the bathroom. “I thought that was something that just happened when you started being a vigilante. Poor Alfred, wh- Hey! Don’t spit up on me!”

Bruce laughed, vomit still on his lips.

“Di, can you take him back? I have to change shirts. He thinks he’s a comedian now, I guess.”

“Whatever,” came from the closet.

“Whatever? Di, are you- Oh, jeez, not you, too.”

A sixteen-year-old Diana Prince stepped out of the closet, a look of pure and utter boredom on her face. She looked at Bruce, then at Clark’s shirt, then rolled her eyes.

“Fine, give the only girl in the relationship the baby. That’s not sexist or anything.”

“I could just put him on the bed?”

“Smart move, breeder. Put the baby who can’t lift his head on a bed with thick sheets. There’s no way he’d suffocate to death.”

Clark blinked, holding the baby sized version of his boyfriend, talking to the 16-year-old teenage angst version of his girlfriend. Who apparently thought of Clark as a ‘breeder.’

“I really have no idea what to do or say here.”

“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “This never would have happened if I just stayed on Themyscira.”

Diana walked over to Clark and took Bruce out of his arms. She lifted him by his armpits, glaring at the baby as if he were the worst looking sewer rat in the world. Bruce started crying. Diana started crying louder. Clark went to change his shirt and hopefully find a keg of Budweiser in the closet.

They were still having their crying contest when he came back out. Diana sighed loudly, holding the still crying Bruce in the air.

“He’s annoying me.”

“Did you try calming him down?” Clark could feel a headache forming between his eyes.

She turned Bruce around to face her. “Hello, former billionaire grown adult man who somehow turned into a baby and now won’t stop going to the bathroom in his pants, can you please, with your large vocabulary, tell me what’s wrong?”

Clark placed a hand over his mouth, dragging it down his jaw in frustration at the sarcastic bite of her words.

Bruce kept wailing.

He closed the distance between them, taking Bruce from her. Once Clark was holding him, he settled, blinking away the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight. Alone.”

“Did you have this much angst the first time you were a teenager?” Clark asked as he finally reached the doorway.

“Yeah, I did. Then Antiope beat it out of me. Go away.”

Clark shut the door. He walked down towards the guest bedroom he used to sleep in before Bruce declared his love for Clark and Diana. The door opened quietly, and he crossed the carpeted floor to the full-sized bed. He sat on the bed, his back resting against the headboard and Bruce resting against his stomach.

“She’s sixteen now, and you’re still, what, a not even a year old? I haven’t dealt with any magic users lately. I know she hasn’t. So, what did you do?”

“Zah!” Bruce shouted.

Clark jumped.

“Did you just talk?”

“Zah, ah na.”

He turned Bruce around, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“What is that? A name?”

“Zah,” he mumbled around the fist half shoved into his mouth. “Mm-Zah.”

“Zah,” Clark said. Then, “Do you think Zatanna could help?”

Bruce’s chubby baby cheeks dimpled with the strength of his smile.

“Do you think we could get Miss Teen Angst to join us?”

The baby gurgled.

“Yeah, didn’t think so. Maybe reverse psychology would work on her? It has to, right? I mean, I can’t just go to Themyscira on my own and get Antiope to train the attitude of her again. You’re in no state to go anywhere either. I guess you’re right about Zatanna. She’d handle this the best. John Constantine would probably just try to get baby you to smoke some of his terrible cigarettes,” he paused. “Okay. That was unfair. I’m overreacting. I’m just worried that the longer we wait… I’m worried that the two of you will be stuck like this. Don’t get me wrong; this baby you is adorable. But I miss being in your arms. I miss being sandwiched in between the both of you. I miss our battles together. I miss you, and I think I’m scared.”

The room was quiet after that, only broken by the snores that came from Bruce and Clark minutes later.

The sun rose, and for the first time in a very long time, Clark did not rise with it. In fact, Bruce felt heavier on his chest. He cracked an eye open.

He was eight years old again.

“Aw, come on,” his childlike voice burst out. “Seriously?”

Breakfast was chilly. Alfred had gone to fetch Diana, and she sassed him. Alfred had barged into the room, telling her very loudly that she may have recalled that he was the man who raised Bruce Wayne, and he had no time for entitled demigoddess princesses.

“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes,” Alfred said through the door.

“Whatever,” Diana said from the other side.

“Do be kind enough to leave that attitude in there,” He called as he went to the guest suite. “Good morning, Mister Kent.”

“Morning, Alfred. Can you help me carry Bruce down? He’s kind of hard for me to hold now.”

“It would be my pleasure,” the butler smiled as he picked up Bruce. “When did your change occur?”

“Last night,” Clark stretched as he got off the bed. “Went to sleep and woke up 24 years younger. What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs benedict with breakfast sausage, yogurt and strawberries. It would seem that I overestimated the amount of coffee needed this morning.”

They sat in the dining room a few minutes later, Clark digging into his breakfast with a ferocity that would have impressed Dick when he was eight years old. Upstairs, the door to Bruce’s bedroom banged open, and Diana stomped down every step. She sat at the far end of the table, dragging the chair out with a very loud, very long, and very anguished sigh, as if pulling the chair out was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She threw herself into her chair and began eating breakfast with her hands, no utensils.

Alfred’s eyelid started twitching.

“Hi, Diana!” Clark waved down the table.

She paused her disemboweling on the egg long enough to stare at Clark.

“Oh! I forgot to tell y'all,” Clark began around a mouthful of food. “I think Bruce was trying to tell me last night that he thinks Zatanna could help. You wouldn’t happen to know if she was in town, would’ja, Alfred?”

“She is,” Diana muttered. “She’s in town. I called her last night.”

“That’s great!”

“She said she wasn’t aware of any de-aging spells, so I guess I’m stuck at sixteen and Bruce is stuck as a baby until further notice.”

Alfred left the dining room as she broke a sausage link in half.

“Why’re you so mean?”

“I’m not mean, I’m angry.”

“What are you angry about?” Clark asked.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Grow up!” The eight-year-old shouted from his end of the table.

“I’m older than you!” The sixteen-year-old shouted from her end.

“Ah!” The 10-month-old added from his highchair.

“Hello!” Zatanna greeted the magic portal she arrived through. “I figured out a way to turn you all back. I just have to send pictures of you all to Justice League Dark, and then I’ll get the spell. Diana, hanging up on me last night was very rude.”

One picture later, the trinity were adults again. Zatanna patted Bruce on the back, told him he made an adorable baby, and then she was gone.

“I want to apologize,” Diana said, her eyes looking at the floor. “I didn’t… my behavior was horrible.”

“I puked on Clark,” Bruce shrugged. “I think we can all just… forgive whatever just occurred. I was the one who was tracking a witch, so really it’s all my fault.”

Diana and Clark nodded, smiles on their beautiful faces.

“That wasn’t the response I was looking for,” Bruce grumbled as his cheeks heated up.

“You thought it was a good idea to hunt down a witch while you’re dating a guy who has a weakness to magic and a girl who is also susceptible to magic?”

“Shut up, Kent.”

“I think I liked you better as a baby,” Diana said as she slung her arms around her boys waists.

“I think I liked him better as a baby, too,” Clark agreed.

[tamararajaviforpresident-blog]

Magisterium Playlist

Just go listen to these songs- if you like angst...(I do too). Couldn't find any songs about double denim, though. (That's probably a good thing) I think I'll just smush the songs in based on artist.

See You Again- Charlie Puth & Wiz Khalifa- geez this song is sad. Go listen to both versions, with and without the rapping.

One Call Away- Charlie Puth- Okay I had to put this one on here, if only because of the pun. No apologies.

Demons- Imagine Dragons- I swear, this is Call's theme song. I counted the lyrics a few years back to see how many of them could DIRECTLY RELATE to Call and his soul, and I think I got like 24/45 correlated lyrics. This was before our Golden Boy took a nap, too. I don't even want to know what the count is now.

Dream- Imagine Dragons- This song is nearly as angsty as Demons. good shit

Radioactive- Imagine Dragons- Again, the angst.

Locked Away- R. City- Nothing like those Panopticon vibes, eh?

Control- Halsey- Dam this is a good song. Perfect for Call. "And all the kids cried out, please stop you're scaring me, I can't help this awful energy, Goddamn right you should be scared of me, who is in control?"

Gasoline- Halsey- Really good song. I feel like for half of these songs my only justification for putting them on there is that they are full of angst- but? they are? and it's? awesome?

Ghost- Halsey- One of the lyrics is literally "what happened to the soul that you used to be?"

Goner -twenty one pilots- Sad and angsty...

Tear In My Heart- tøp- Cute little love story, and I can't help but wish Magisterium was like this

Doubt -tøp- Call and his inferiority complex, anyone?

Heavydirtysoul -tøp- "Can you save, can you save my heavydirtysoul?" Taps into those Enemy of Death vibes

Not Today - tøp- Is literally the song equivalent of

Call: NOPE. NOT GONNA DEAL WITH ME BEING THE ENEMY RIGHT NOW. IMMA WALK THROUGH THE GATE. I DON'T CARE. NOT TODAY.

The Judge -tøp- If the tsm snippet hadn't come out, this is how I might've imagined Call's Panopticon trial going. (Don't miss the "Josh Dun!" at the end of the song)

Car Radio -tøp- jeez I have a lot of tøp songs!!! but!! that's!!! because!!! they're!! worth!!! it!!! This song is kind of up there with Goner. Good. Really good.

Ode To Sleep- tøp- angsty sad Call. What else do I need to say

For the last tøp song, I present -Holding On To You- LOVE this song! I guess it's in the 'happy aftermath when Aaron is alive and jascalronmara are all hugging and holding on to each other and I'm so excited because I'm positive that will happen' category

Lean On- Major Lazer- The sort of badass song I have a feeling Tamara's the star of

Girls Like Girls- Hayley Kiyoko- gimme all the adorable telia 😊!!!! all of it!!! (Don't forget to watch the music video, it's the Best™)

Pompeii- Bastille- post-apocalyptic Call-Becomes-The-Enemy-Of-Death-And-Everything-Is-Pain masterpiece

Thinking Out Loud- Ed Sheeran- cuuute calron. Cuuuute 😊

All Of Me- John Legend- 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Safe And Sound- Capital Cities- Man I wish Call and Aaron could be safe and sound. But when they will be, well... 😄

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing- Set It Off- Now back to your regularly scheduled angst... It reminds me of Alex's reveal and Aaron's little nap

Duality- Set It Off- CALL BECOMING CONSTANTINE. Literally says " I am solace. I am chaos," at one point . Shoutout to the anon who introduced me to it!

Am I Wrong- Nico & Vinz- "If I am wrong I don't want to be right."

Feels- Kiiara- I originally listened to this song when Gold was big and I saw the song title and was like: yes. I have feels too.

Crazy=Genius- Panic! At The Disco- god I love panic. This is like the crazy side of Call- the mole rat loving, chaos-ridden conga-line dancing, Commander Pinhead side...

House Of Memories- Panic!- Here's to hoping Call doesn't get his memories of Constantine back

Golden Days- Panic!- Golden days with an alive Golden Boy :)

[noccalula-writes]

Do you have any favorite fics?

This is going to be long. 

Disclaimer - I often hunt fic purely to look for smut, I have a short attention span and it’s hard for me to commit to an actual lengthy story and follow through to it. This will also span several fandoms because I am vast and contain multitudes like the rest of us. 

There’s a zillion short smut fics in my favorites - Kastle (which I only half ship but greatly appreciate), Negan (y’all already know Cunninglinguist or @hannibalssweaters is hands-down the best for Negan insert-fic), some Skyrim (I know, whatever), John Winchester (my personal kinks usually revolve around this motherfucker, so help me). A lot of American Gods now too, mostly smutty things revolving around Mad Sweeney. 

I’m not going to go into the smut-only pieces for now as that’d be a whole ‘nother question to answer, but here’s some that are plot-y foremost and any sexiness is incidental. 

For shorter pieces - 

The Beginning & The End are two short pieces by insulpherblue (MCU, Iron Man comics) and are probably two of the most original pieces on AO3. The concept can be hard to follow at first but if you love Tony like I do - or even if you’re just sick of people getting his character wrong - go read them. They’ll stick in your brain. 

Served Faithfully by Zooey Glass (Supernatural) is a John Winchester song fic set around one of my favorite Ani DiFranco songs - ironically, months before I found this fic, I sent the song to my wife and said “wow, this really reminds me of John Winchester.” Apparently I wasn’t alone. 

In The Middle of The Night by unourssongeur (MCU) is my vanity entry since it’s a response to my short Stucky piece Our Love Comes Back, but I loved seeing it mirrored back from Bucky’s perspective. 

It’s Called Google Translate by Mozzarella (Iron Man comics) is ONE OF MY FAVORITE STORIES ON AO3, EVER, AT ALL. It’s an extremely rare pairing from the Matt Fraction run of Invincible Iron Man that broke my fucking heart and STILL haunts me to this day - the piece is sweet but man, if you know the story behind it… 

Judas by MumblingSage (Constantine) is a really sharp, smart BDSM fic based on the Constantine TV show (my wife is a giant JC fangirl) and centering John and an asexual Anne-Marie. The sex drives the plot here but the character exploration here is priceless - this immediately became my canon vision of Anne-Marie.

For longer pieces - 

we did not make ourselves by MLeigh (MCU) is probably the first fic I read on AO3 - I was a late bloomer on the site and had more or less sworn off fanfic for a hot minute but this was the one that made me make an account. It’s dizzyingly good Stucky, probably one of the best known Stucky fics if I had to hazard a guess, and it should be required reading if that’s your bag. 

Better Natures by etirabys (Punisher, Daredevil) is really, really incredible. It kept my incredibly shitty attention span on lock the entire time with it’s incredibly subtle but beautiful S/D dynamic between Frank and Karen while simultaneously giving me zombie apocalypse to boot. It’s a really gorgeous piece, you have to read it to really understand it but I definitely recommend it. 

Hell On Wheels by LastAmericanMermaid (MCU, Avengers) is the roller derby AU Stucky fic you didn’t know you needed - it’s adorable and fun, and I love their characterization of Natasha.

All The Kingdoms and Their Splendour by TigerDragon (Sherlock, novels and Downey films) is hands down one of the best OC insert fics I’ve ever read in my life. It’s SACD and Downey Film Sherlock-verse - full disclosure, I’ve never seen BBC Sherlock and I doubtfully ever will but I loooove the Downey films - and it’s written in period appropriate prose the way the original novels are narrated, which is a risky gamble for a writer but they pull it off magnificently. It’s got a great build and a gorgeous, perfect ending that had me quite literally smiling when I finished it. 

Conversations We Didn’t Have In Skyrim by wshaffer (Skyrim) is one of my favorites even though it’s a big niche piece. Basically I fill in all the open holes in the stories for my Skyrim characters with conversations, exchanges, etc and I was SO thrilled to see that not only did someone else did this but she wrote them all out. I can’t imagine that a lot of people would find my OC’s all that compelling in an open-world video game but goddammit this seems like it would be really, really fun - I loved reading about her Breton’s love affair with Farkas. 

The Darcy, Loki and the Yarn Store series by Hermaline75 (MCU) is probably the only multi-part series that I’ve ever just sat down and powered the entire way through - it was so perfect that all the author would need to do is change a few names and this book would absolutely sell. It is smutty but plot-driven - I’d be lying if I said the Salacious Saga didn’t have influences from this story all over it. If I’d picked this story up at a bookstore, I’d have bought it. GREAT pacing, funny and clever and sweet, it’s Darcy-centric and super inclusive. 

A Rat’s Life by bardsmaid is widely considered /the/ ultimate Krycek fic (X Files). It’s a detailed, well-planned account of his life offscreen, which is hard to pull off since half of Krycek’s allure is that we know so little about him and it’s dangerous to toy with the foundation of a character sometimes, but this is expertly crafted. Sadly, bardsmaid passed away a few years ago, but her blog and writings remain up and no one has surpassed her in terms of Krycek-centric fic. 

I will forever mourn that Kept by becisvolatile (MCU) seems to be completely inactive now - last update was like 2 years ago, but the 5 chapters we got were so, so good. This is straight up smut so I’m violating my rule here, but the characterizations are deep and abiding and there’s so much more to the story than just the white-hot, explicit as hell sex scenes. I love Tony Stark both to play with and read but I so often hate the way people portray his character. This is one of my favorite Tony’s, hands down. 

You’ll Probably Go To Heaven by ILookDaftWithOneShoe (MCU) is fucked. up. You get a lot of psychological warfare in a deeply unhealthy, abusive and monstrous Loki and Tony fic (not at all a pairing I’ve ever once given a shit about until this story) but it’s gripping and addictive. Also I only just recently figured out the title was a Scissor Sisters reference. 

There were a few others that I can’t find hosted anywhere but suffice to say, when a story haunts you long after you’re done reading it, you’ve found a good one. 

[dofthea]

Welcome back to Top Ten Tuesday!

For those who don’t know, the Top Ten Tuesday Tag is hosted by The Broke and the Bookish.

10. Batgirl of Burnside –  Cameron Stewart

Brenden Fletcher, Jared K. Fletcher (Letterer), Maris Wicks (Colorist), Babs Tarr (Illustrator)

Batgirl of Burnside split the DC readership right down the middle. People either really liked it or they didn’t. I really enjoyed it. This version of Batgirl was marketed towards the #millennials with the narrative focusing around social media, online dating and identity. The story was small and personal, making it a nice break from the large scale narratives happening in the rest of the DCU.

The art is also worth mentioning. It’s bright, expressive and eye catching. If you’re looking for a quick fun read than I suggest you pick up this Batgirl run.

Check out our review of Volume One of Batgirl of Burnside here.

9. Watchmen – Alan Moore

When people are arguing whether comics are capital “L” literature, Watchmen is the comic that most people bring up. The first time I read this book I had a hard time getting into it, I think I was too young. When I picked it up for a university course years later I fell completely and totally in love.

Both a super hero story and a critique on the nature of superhero stories, Watchmen is beautifully put together. The twelve part follows a now disbanded team of vigilantes who are being picked off one by one by an assassin. Watchmen uses the panel structure and page layout as much as it uses dialogue and images to tell its story. Because of that Watchmen is a highly structured and stylized book.

This comic series is not perfect and I’ve been throwing around the idea of doing a series of posts analyzing it. Maybe I’ll get to it. Someday. Hopefully.

8. Batwoman – J.H. Williams III (Writer, Illustrator), W. Haden Blackman (Writer), Amy Reeder (Illustrator), Richard Friend (Illustrator), Dave Stewart (Colourist)

The art in Batwoman is breathtaking.

The series follows Kate Kane as she returns to Gotham City. Kane needs to find a way to balance her social life (a new romance) and her life as a crime fighting caped crusader. It doesn’t help that the woman that Kane is interested in also happens to be one of the police officers trying to track Batwoman down.

Volume One: Hydrology was my first ever introduction to the character and I fell in love with her instantly. A little more stylized and dreamlike than her male counterpart, Batwoman is perfect for anyone who is looking for a little bit more magic and monsters in their superhero stories.

7. Hark A Vagrant – Kate Beaton

Kate Beaton makes funny comics based off of history, literature, art, or whatever strikes her fancy. Her work never fails to make me laugh. I suggest picking up her two collections Hark a Vagrant and Step Aside Pops and binge read them. You’re going to laugh so hard it’s going to hurt.

At the time of writing this post, Beaton is on hiatus as she finishes up a graphic novel. But you can check out her comic archives on her website.

6. Hellblazer

John Constantine is a magician and a bastard and I love him.

My father introduced me to Hellblazer when I was a teenager and I started following the story religiously. His original run ended in February 2013, but since has been rebooted twice.

Constantine combines two of my greatest loves: magic and hard boiled detective fiction. This is a man that is followed by constant pain, especially when he attempts to do right by others. His past is always coming back to haunt him. Hellblazer is able to walk the line between the superhero story and the cosmic horror story.

My favourite issue of Hellblazer “On the Beach” can be found in the Volume 2: The Devil You Know. In it, Constantine tries to spend a relaxing day at the beach, but things go from wrong to weird when a nearby nuclear plant goes critical…

5. Locke and Key – Joe Hill & Gabriel Rodríguez

I discovered Locke and Key after reading Joe Hill’s novel Horns. Locke and Key follows three siblings who move into an old house after the death of their father. In the house they discover magical keys that do different things and can give them different abilities. They also discover that their family’s past might be a little darker than they ever imagined. Locke and Key is both a heartfelt story about growing up and the loss of innocence. It’s also really creepy.

If you’re a fan of dark fantasy, then this might be your cup of tea. The story starts out strong and has one of the most satisfying conclusions I have ever come across for a comic. The art is pretty rad as well.

Locke and Key is supposedly being adapted into a film trilogy, so here’d hoping that actually happens.

4. The Mighty Thor – Jason Aaron (Writer), Russell Dauterman (Illustrator), Jorge Molina(Illustrator)

Thor is no longer worthy and cannot bare Mjölnir. But, when the Frost Giants invade earth an  unknown woman takes up the hammer to defend humanity. Who is this new Thor? Not only does she have to defend the earth from the usual rogue gallery, but from Odin who is insulted by her existence.

The female run of Thor has been a lot of fun. I was originally worried that this was going to be a short lived gimmick and I’m glad to see that I was wrong. At the time of writing this post our Lady Goddess is still going strong.

Check out our reviews for The Goddess of Thunder, Who Holds the Hammer and Thunder in Her Veins.

3. Rat Queens – Kurtis J. Wiebe

Rat Queens follows four badass female adventurers living in a fantasy world. They’re crude, they’re hysterical and they feel like they’re your best friends.

The series has been rocked by controversy when it came out that artist and Rat Queens co-creator Roc Upchurch was arrests for domestic abuse against his wife. Which was then followed up by a weak self destruction of a third story arc.

Creator Kurtis J. Wiebe is rebooting the series. So hopefully good things will be in the future for our favourite adventurers. I’m hopeful. I miss them.

Check out our reviews of Volumes One & Two and Volume Three

2. Monstress – Marjorie M. Liu (Writer), Sana Takeda (Artist), Rus Wooton (Letterer)

Monstress manages to combine mythology, steampunk and cosmic horror wrapped up in a beautiful art deco style.  Every single panel in this book could be framed and hung on a wall.

The comic follows Maika, as she tries to solve the mystery of her past and the connection she possesses with a demonic force. In the first volume, Monstress hints at a grand story set against a complicated world. This is one of those books that the less you know, the more fun you will have reading it. So check it out, you won’t be disappointed.

Check out our review of Monstress here.

1.  Sandman – Neil Gaiman

Sandman was the comic that made me love comics again. With Sandman, Neil Gaiman blends mythology, superheroes, literature and religion into a complicated and beautiful story. Sandman follows Morpheus the Lord of Dreams, who at the beginning of the narrative has been captured by a cult who had laid a trap for Death. As the series progresses, Morpheus has to come to terms with his past decisions, the changing world around him and most importantly himself.

The art of Sandman varies from issue to issue which helps add to it’s dreamlike quality.

Sandman is my favourite comic of all time, but if I had to choose one issue to focus on it would be Desire from The Endless Nights mini series. It’s beautiful and bittersweet and gets to me every time I read it.

This list was long overdue, but a lot of fun to put together. I love comics and am always looking for new series to follow! if you have any to recommend send them my way. But until next time and next Tuesday (whenever that is) happy reading!

[kiwigreenflame]

Urban fantasy is one of my favourite fictional genres, juxtaposing the fantastic with the mundane (Urban Fantasy with a real character; Urban fantasy on my mind). The world the stories create is one we can imagine ourselves living within, with mystery and magic just around the corner if only the veil hiding it could be ripped away (apocalyptically?).

This kind of writing takes details in our world that we might normally ignore and enchants them, whether that might be a building or place (e.g. the Shard in The Glass God or Knightsbridge in Neverwhere), a local river or creek (e.g. The Rivers of London), a statue or monument (e.g. the City of London’s dragons in The Midnight Mayor), or using everyday items in magical contexts (e.g. Matthew Swift’s use of Oyster cards as part of an incantation).

Mostly the urban fiction I read is UK-based. I enjoy US-based series like Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series (both books and TV), Tom Sniegoski’s Remy Chandler books, and J. Michael Straczynski’s Midnight Nation comic series. One thing I find with those, and this is a broad generalisation, is that the British stories seem to pay more attention to the people on the margins of society and make them more visible and valuable in the world. (Some characters and stories like the Mancurian antihero, John Constantine, in DC/Vertigo comics Hellblazer and other titles, also span the US/UK divide, though remain truer to the British elements of the character).

For example:

Old Bailey in Neverwhere. He’s a keeper of pigeons on the rooftops of London and wears clothing made of feathers; (A similar character, The Bowery King, exists in the John Wick films, but I don’t know if there’s a connection);

The Beggar King and the beggar community, King Rat, the Old Bag Lady, The Tribe (outcasts who gain their magic from tattoos, piercings and biohacking), The Whites (street artists and magicians whose power is in grafitti) in Kate Griffin’s Midnight Mayor and Magicals Anonymous series;

Razor Eddie, the Punk God of the Straight Razor, in Simon R. Green’s Nightside series who is the sometimes friend, sometime enemy of the protagonist, John Taylor. He kills with his famous pearl-handled razor that can even cut through dimensions, he smells really badly, wears a long grey trench coat that is in sore need of washing, and lives on the leavings of society;

Chas, taxi driver and best friend of John Constantine;

In these stories, these characters on the margins of society are treated, on the whole, with dignity and respect. I’ve recently been rereading Kate Griffin’s Midnight Mayor series and two things immediately sprang to mind when I was thinking about this. The first is in The Midnight Mayor, when the protagonist, Matthew Swift, chooses to help Loren find her lost son, starting him on a path that will, in turn, connect him to another significant character, Penny, and help save London from the Death of Cities. The act of compassion has lasting and unforseen consequences:

Loren pointed at a pair of red and black trainers, all sponge and wheeze. I tried them on for size. Too big. I put on some more socks, tried them again, shifted round until my weight was right.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Go for a wander.”

“Can you find him?”

“Dunno. I’ll do my best.”

“If you find him … don’t say anything, will you? It’ll only make it worse if you say something.”

She gave me a photo. It’s in my bag. The kid is ugly. He has a big head made bigger by having shaven off his hair. His jaw alone could demolish an old wall; his mouth is too small for the length of chin that surrounds it.

I left my shoes with Loren, a promise that I’d come back, and walked out of the door with the kid’s shoes on my feet.

It is surprisingly hard to scry by footware. It requires a submergence of will, an utter belief that your feet know where they’re going. Sometimes magicians learn how to do this by literally blinding themselves, tying rags over their eyes so that they have to trust entirely in the direction their body takes them, and never question, never doubt, that this is where they have to be. The problem about that is that a pair of shoes, while it may remember where it wants to go, is less likely than a brain to stop at a red light.

You need just enough awareness to stay alive, to stay smart, but not so much that you ever take control. Never question, never doubt. Just take a deep breath, and start walking.

The second comes in the fourth book, The Minority Council, when Swift seeks help from The Beggar King, who confers on Swift the vestments of the king’s office:

Then the Beggar King rose, and unfolded my new clothes.

“Kneel,” he said, and I knelt.

He held aloft a pair of shredding jeans, stained down one leg, with the pockets hanging out.

“I give to you,” he proclaimed, “the foul-smelling trousers of my clan. All who see you shall look away, and you shall bring shame, disgust and pity wherever you walk.”

He handed me the trousers ceremonially, which I hugged to my chest.

Then, “I give you the oversized second-hand shirt of the great fat man who went on a diet and no longer fitted his old clothes. He walks now in pride in tailored suits, does not give the beggars change but will perhaps one day donate a pair of torn-up shoes. Wear it with gratitude and bow your head when strangers walk away.”

I took the shirt. It smelt of chemical disinfectant, and something else, faint and sickly.

A large coat was flourished ceremonially.

“I give you a coat of infinite pockets and vile smell. The last man who owned this coat died in a church porch from exposure on a bitter night. But the vicar buried him in the yard beneath a stone cross, and the vicar’s wife laid flowers, and, though she did not know why, one of the paramedics came who had found the body and pronounced it long dead at the scene, joints stiff before the sun came up. Though you walk by yourself through the city streets, may you never know the truth of what it is to be alone.”

One of the pockets still held a battered plastic cup and the red felt-tip pen that had been used to write, hungry, please help.

A pair of trainers was held aloft. The uppers had come away from the soles, so that the last wearer’s toes could stick out, and the laces had each been knotted together from many fragments.

“These are the shoes of the beggar who cannot afford the bus, who does not have the money for the train. They have walked north and south, east and west, laying their footprints upon the earth with the lightness of a feather. We do not walk as others do, we are not the busy clatter of well-shod heels, we do not march with the stride of the rush hour, we are not joggers in a park or running for the bus. Ours is an ancient walk, the oldest walk known to man, down a path that has not changed since the first stone of the first city wall was laid. We walk together, the city and the beggars, until only the city remains. Take them, and be nothing but the city.”

I took the shoes, huddling them into my meagre bundle of possessions, and looked up.

The Beggar King’s open palm caught me across the side of the face hard enough to knock me down, landing awkwardly on my elbow. He stood over us and for a moment there was an ancient darkness in his eyes, as deep and wild as the whirlwind. “You’re one of us now,” he said, and his soft voice filled the room. “Don’t screw up.”

In these stories the teenagers who are distrusted and devalued by the world are recognised as real people of consequence. So too, those on the margins such as The Beggar King and his people, who form their own community and are recognised as fully human in the stories. As the story ends, Swift, having walked in London on the margins himself, passes on the vestments to another.

Round at the side of the church, I found who I was looking for, sitting alone on an old cardboard box that had been pulled apart to make a small mat. She had two sleeping bags, one inside the other – the first was bright blue, a camper’s sack with drawer strings; the other was a duvet, sewn together, and rotted at the corners. She wore a grey woollen hat and her face was pale, tinged with blue. Her legs were shaking inside the bedding and there was a greyness to her lips, a wideness in the pupils of her eyes. As I approached she eyed me suspiciously, her expression veering between fight or flight. She wasn’t out of her twenties, and though the sleeves of her jumper hid the worst of the track marks, enough capillaries had burst under her skin to tell much of her story.

I’m continually struck by the way in which these stories change how I see those around me. The ones I would normally ignore, mistrust and judge. These stories have a power to them beyond the fantastical elements in them; a power to make you look again at the world around you.

If you’re interested in reading some of these stories, then here are some of my favourites.

Kate Griffin

The Midnight Mayor series:

A Madness of Angels;

The Midnight Mayor;

The Neon Court;

The Minority Council;

Magicals Anonymous series:

Stray Souls;

The Glass God;

  Ben Aaronovitch

This series follows PC Peter Grant as he is sucked into a world where policing meets the supernatural in London.

  Benedict Jacka

In this series, Alex Verus, a magician on the margins in London, is caught between the political powers of the magical world while trying to care for and save his friends and run his magic shop.

  Simon R. Green; Neil Gaiman; Paul Cornell

Simon R. Green’s Nightside series is a tongue-in-cheek approach to the genre (replicated in his other writings with related series);

Paul Cornell’s series that kicked off in London Falling, is a grim and gritty police series where flawed characters try to handle magical and policing crises. Not many laughs in this, but some significant impact along the way;

Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere introduced me to the genre. I enjoyed the TV series and it made me constantly look twice while walking around London years after reading it.

  (British) Urban Fantasy and the Humanising of the Marginalised Urban fantasy is one of my favourite fictional genres, juxtaposing the fantastic with the mundane (