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radiance1 · 4 months

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Vlad opened his eyes expecting to look up at his cieling.

The pair of eyes staring straight into his own was not what he wanted to see.

"I need you to make a clone of me." Danny, ever the grain of salt in a pile of sugar, said with all the tact of something who didn't just break into a man's room.

Vlad squinted up at him and scowled. "Hello to you as well, Daniel. Not even a good morning?" He groaned, reaching a hand up to massage his temple to try and offset the headache he could feel settling in. "Do you have the slight clue what time it is?"

"It's 3 AM."

Vlad blinked, and his scowled deepened. "That somehow makes it even worse." He sat up as Danny leaned back, and reached for his side table, taking up a glass with little difficulty and downing the water in few gulps. He then sighed and looked back at Danny. "What is this about making a clone of you?"

Danny crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Exactly what it sounds like, fruitloop. I need you," Danny pointed a finger at Vlad. "To make me," He then pointed that finger at himself. "A clone."

Vlad's eyebrow twitched at how Danny spoke. As if he were explaining someone complex to a child. He sighed, killing whatever retort was on his tongue to instead rest his head in his head.

"There should most likely be one left that I haven't melted down yet, do with that what you will." He shifted back some until he could rest against his headboard and waited for the nuisance to leave-

"Why are you shirtless?" Inquired the child that was still there.

Vlad opened his eyes to shoot his a glare and he scoffed. "Are you not going to run along towards whatever need you have for a clone, child. Or do you insist on ruining whatever peace I have left?"

"Is the clone an actual clone or..?" Danny tilted his eyes, eyes roaming off Vlad to the lump beside him.

"No, it won't suddenly come to life, it is just a body." Vlad explained as he manifested a wing to hide said lump from Danny's gaze. "So you need not worry about that part, though why you would need one is beyond me."

Danny stayed quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "You still have a clone of me though? That's kinda weird dud-" His smirk was slapped right off his smug face by a wing as he flew back a bit through the air.

He matched Vlad's glare with one of his own as he rubbed his face, before huffing. "Fine. I'm leaving now." He phased through the wall, leaving with the whisper of fruitloop and leaving Vlad in that blessed, of so sacred silence.

Sadly, it was not to last.

His bedroom door was slammed open, with enough strength to shake the entire room and cause the poor thing to slam into the wall with enough force to crack the blood thing. "Dad! Those weird birds are-" The voice momentarily interrupted by two shouts of alarm.

"SWEET BUTTER BISTCUITS!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

"-...Why are you naked...?" Danielle said, a look of disturbed confusion on her face before she ducked low to avoid a blast of magic. "Okay, now that was uncalled for- ewwwwwwwww!" She then screwed her eyes shut and put her hands over her eyes and looked as if she might puke.

Vlad, deciding to spare his daughter from a sight only he should've seen this morning and acquainted himself with quite thoroughly last night, he moved a wing to hide his partner's... private bits, from sight. Who then decided it would be the best idea to sit down.

On Vlad's wing.

If Vlad were any lesser man, he might have complained. But he was not. So he did not.

He did shift his wing around, however.

"You have a kid?" John Constantine, conman extraordinaire, rather shamelessly took the glass offered as Vlad covered the both of them with a sheet and drank the water. "Would a been nice to know before I shot at her, actually."

Vlad massaged the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on that in no way was because of a hangover and sighed through his nose. "She was not even supposed to be here for a week more, so there was no reason to tell you anything."

To which Constantine shrugged.

"Why are you here, Danielle. You were supposed," He stressed the word. "To be somewhere in Metropolis."

A single eye peeked out from between the girl's fingers, before she let out a relieved sigh and dropping her hands. "Those weird birds tracked me down to tell you they want to meet you." Dani wrinkled her nose. "Though I think you should put on clothes though.

"Weird birds-" Vlad paused, sneaking a glance over at his alarm clock to see that it was, in fact, 3:15 AM and groaned. he dropped his face into his hands. "Those blasted phoenixes, it's three in the morning!"

Dani just shrugged and stepped out of the room. "They're in your living room by the way, the fourth one down the hall that takes the two right turns, and they're getting pretty impatient." She then paused, staring straight at Constantine, who stared back with a raised eyebrow.

Water dripped down his face and down onto the bed as a ball of water slapped smack dab in the face as he reopened his eyes with an unamused expression.

Dani stuck her tongue out and then disappeared down the hall.

"Well, I'm awake now at least." Constantine said, reaching over Vlad's lap to place his now empty glass onto the side table.

A loud screech cut through the noise of the mansion, and for the second time. Vlad groaned.

It was only three in the morning...

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the-witchhunter · 3 months

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DP x DC: Constantine’s soul thing

So I know as a fandom, Constantine selling his soul is wildly misinterpreted(oh he’s selling fractions of it, oh he’s sold it to so many demons, etc)

But I think it’d be really funny if Danny only THOUGHT that’s how that worked

Because the reality is he only sold his soul twice and the first of the fallen claims a right to it because Constantine poisoned him with holy water turned into booze(Jesus style). They collect it upon death so John fully has his soul and is walking around with it

So there’s a couple of ways that could go

1) Danny trying to look for it or pieces of it in increasingly dumb places when John just fully has it the whole time

2) Danny stakes a claim on it and then pisses off the three lords of hell and their armies because they weren’t about to give up their claim but they are more than willing to work together to keep some upstart from snatching it

3) Danny somehow gets rid of any legal claim the three lords of hell have on John’s soul and his reaction is

“Damn it, now I’m definitely going to hell”

“But they don’t own your soul?”

“I was going to hell before I sold it. Why did you think I was so desperate to cure my lung cancer? I knew exactly what was in store for me if I died. I’m the hellblazer, I’ve been there and seen it personally. Those three having equal claim made it so it wasn’t worth letting me die and duking it out.”

“So I just-“

“Got rid of the reason those three twats kept me alive? Yeah”

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #I do think this is weird how much this comes up #because in universe it’s a non issue for John #and getting rid of it causes more problems for him #there’s way weirder stuff going on with his soul #like fusing with a version of his dead twin that only existed in potentia #literally fused with someone who never existed but could have #the golden boy plot was a bit weird #magic is weird

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iovesia · 6 months

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❛⠀SEEING DOUBLES.

kinktober 2023. — entry three.

synopsis. don't answer the door, don't leave the house, don't pick up the phone, but most of all, don't scream.

✶⠀ ׅ⠀ ࣪⠀warnings. ghostface!john wick 𝑥 f!reader 𝑥 ghostface!john constantine — threesome. breaking and entering. extremely dubious consent. non con elements. use of knives. oral (m receiving). reader's hair can be grabbed.

josie's little note .. ignore the fact that this is a month late.. i'm so sorry y'all. i hate writing threesomes, so probs my last time doing it LMAO but i hope you guys enjoy !!

YOU WERE HOME ALONE.

How cliché.

The muffled sound of the ads on tv filled the eerie silence in your house. You laid comfortably on your couch, flicking through your newest edition of 'Seventeen’ magazine. Your roomates were out for a night in the city, leaving your recluse self to enjoy proper solitude for once.

The landline snaps you from your reading as the obnoxious ring echoes through your desolate house. You groan annoyedly, tossing your magazine to the side as you lazily stroll to the kitchen.

“Who the hell is calling me now?” you huff.

Taking the white phone off the wall, you put it to your ear, gently toying with the phone cord.

“Hello?” You sigh, a tinge of annoyance in your voice. The hoarse breathing on the other end makes you quirk your brow. “Uh… hellloooo?”

The voice breathes hoarsely before clearing its throat, then a gravely melody follows. “Hello.”

A long silence fills the phone line. A sudden crackle of the popcorn cooking on the pan snaps you into conversation. “Who is this?”

“Who’s this?” The gravelly voice repeats my words back.

“You called me, man,” you roll your eyes, resting your head against the wall. The raspy voice just breathes quietly on the other line, slowly ticking you off. A second wave of silence washes over this dry exchange. “Okay, then…”

You hang up the phone. Just as you turn away, the damn landline starts ringing violently again. With another groan, you harshly grab the landline. “Hello?” Your tone switched 180, getting more irritated the longer you’re away from rotting on the couch with your magazine.

“What’re you up to?” The same raspy voice chuckles softly. You squint your eyes, raising a brow as an incredulous laugh escapes your throat.

“Is this your pickup line? Calling random strangers and asking what they’re up to?” You retort, holding the landline with your shoulder as you walk further into the kitchen and rummage through some snacks.

“Aw, I wouldn’t say we’re strangers,” the unknown man replies with faux-hurt in his voice. Resisting to roll the eyes out of your skull, you hum in response. You take out a small packet of popcorn.

“Oh yeah? You don’t even know my name,” you scoff, using your teeth to rip the plastic wrap before carelessly tossing the popcorn package into the microwave.

“I’d like to,” the raspy voice teases, and you can envision the cheeky grin. The gravely stranger finally manages to weasel out a weak laugh from you.

“Is that so?”

“Don’t be a tease.. How about we play a game for it?” The voice offers. Now you were intrigued. The microwave beeps in the background as you rest against your marble countertop. There’s a pregnant pause before you shrug.

“Fine, what the hell,” you indulge this stranger. “What game?”

“20 questions. Think of someone, and I’ll guess.”

A snort and giggle comes through your nose. Jesus, how old is he?

You take a brief glance out your kitchen window, eyeing the empty garden and illuminated pool in your backyard. You roll your shoulders back, elbow resting on the countertop. There’s quiet breathing on the other end again before it coughs.

“Ew,” you whisper at the sound of the hacking cough.

“Are they a woman?” The voice murmurs in your ear.

“Yeah,” you smirk. Trying to screw with this guy a little, you think of yourself, knowing this random stranger would never get it.

“Are they famous?”

“I wish,” you snicker, enjoying your own little inside joke. Your childish snickers suddenly died at this mysterious stranger’s next words.

“Do they like to read girly Seventeen magazines, like the one on your couch?”

Beep. Beep. Your popcorn finished snapping in your microwave.

The landline nearly fell from your hand as you froze. You felt your chest tighten, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “What did you say?” Your voice drops to a mere whisper, the colour draining from your face. Goosebumps swim on your skin, and out the corner of your eye, you glance back at the living room.

The magazine was gone.

“I’m more of a Playboy guy myself,” The voice continues, completely ignoring your worried tone. “Maybe I’ll see you on the cover one day,” he teases.

“This isn’t funny, asshole!” You blurt angrily, but the voice cracks alert him of your fear. Your mystery caller simply laughs at your cursing, his voice sounding more ominous than playful by the second.

“At least now we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I’m calling the cops,” the threat is empty, but you hope to strike fear into this (hopefully) prank-caller. Your bare feet pad against the wooden floor, rushing to the front door and checking the locks.

“Aw, but I still have 16 questions left..” the voice pouts mockingly.

“Fuck you,” you spit, hanging up the phone with a trembling hand. The sound of your shaky breath fills the vacant home. Crickets chirping out the window fail to ease your nerves as they set in your unfortunate reality.

You’re home alone.

Immediately, you rush to your porch to make sure the door’s lock and immediately come to see a dark figure standing by your lit pool. A bloodcurdling scream erupts from your throat at the sight, and you stumble over your feet to lock the glass sliding door.

The light of the pool barely illuminated the figure’s face— a mask. The pale white mask, with a long mouth, and big blacked out eyes. His silhouette was concealed by the long black cloak.. Like a babadook. The face of a ghost. The unknown stranger lifts his hand up, revealing a small black flip phone. He waves it mockingly before holding it to his ear.

Ring. Ring.

Your landline rings again, unbreaking your eye contact with the looming stranger in your backyard. Cautiously and carefully stepping back from the glass door, you reach for the phone once again.

“H—”

“Hang up on me again and I’ll gut you like a fish,” this time the voice was at least 4 octaves lower, and growled at you. Your lower lip trembled, as your eyes stung with tears.

“W-What do you want?” You whisper, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Next question..” the voice pauses. “Does she have an unlocked backdoor?”

Suddenly, a booming crack of wood followed by the sound of shattering glass echoed in the back of the home. Another weak squeal leaves your lips when you instinctively turn your head to the hallway, seeing a broken vase on the ground. When you turn your head back to the porch, and scream again when the stranger is pressed up against the glass door. His mask now flashing in all its plastic glory.

“Let me in, baby..” his disgusting pet name only makes you whimper. Your big eyes well up with fearful tears and you quake right where you're standing.

“Go away.. Please go away..” you sob.

His black gloved hand pressed against the glass, his index finger tapping in a rhythm against the transparent door. Your brows furrowed in confusion, more sobs falling from your quivering lips.

A breath hits your neck.

You watch as the stranger pressed against the door starts laughing, his head lolling back and his ominous laughter rings in your ear. Turning around painfully slowly, the landline falls from your hand, smashing to the ground.

Any sound dies in your throat, jaw dropping when you crane your neck up to a twin of your intruder on the porch. With the same jarring ghostface mask, and long black cloak, the second stranger tilts his head to the side.

Your wobbling legs only take you so far back away from the nightmarish figure, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Held in his vice grip, you instinctively start kicking and sobbing desperately, accidentally (yet successful) managing to shove your foot into the groin of the second intruder.

He lets out a sharp groan, barely bending in pain as the first intruder continues holding you in his tight grip. He’s unrelenting in his hold and damn near picks you off the ground, as if you were a sack of flour.

“Oh, now you’re gonna get it.”

The once comforting feel of your living room carpet felt like smaller daggers as the broken glass of your porch door dug into your knees. The two matching intruders towered over you, the shorter one holds a tight grip on your hair, while his blade rests under your chin.

“Please—” Your begs were silenced when the blade pressed against your delicate skin, a small slice stinging your neck. The taller masked figure’s scratchy gloved fingers stroke the side of your tear covered face.

“Question 15... is she a pretty crier?” the slightly shorter ghostfaced figure tugs your hair, making you whimper.

“Enough, Constantine,” the other chimes in. His voice much lower than his partner in crime’s— a baritone, authoritative sound that did nothing to soothe your fears. It’s clear the accomplice with a death grip on your scalp was the one on the phone, his husky voice that was a melody to your ears, had this been under any other circumstance.

“I thought we said no names, Wick.”

Constantine and Wick. You finally matched names to the two psychos.

“It’s not like she’ll be alive to remember them.”

The two go back and forth, their argument silenced when “John” grabs the bottom of his plastic mask, and whips it off his face. Your lips part slightly, eyes widened at the sight. An older man, mid 40s at most. His short black beard decorated across his lower face, and his piercing black eyes piercing down at your trembling figure. His calloused hand reached for your chin, redirecting your head side to side, as if you were cattle being inspected.

“She’s pretty,” he hums, almost sounding impressed. This older man speaks as if you’re not even forcibly knelt down before him. The other man, who you now know to be Constantine, tugs your hair once again and this time makes you gasp sharply.

“Ow—”

“Be quiet,” Constantine hisses, the blade pressing an millimetre deeper, releasing a few droplets onto your tight t-shirt. The cool metal shifts from under your neck, and now presses against your cheek, a faint crimson line staining your face.

“Please just let me go. I won’t say anything!” your voice is shaking, as you desperately plead with the two burglars. “Take whatever you want! I won’t say anything! I promise!”

A pregnant pause fills the air, and the two men share a sly glance. The sinister look in their matching dark irises only made you squirm more. Like a mouse caught under the sharp metal trap.

“Anything we want?” Wick raises a brow, his monotonous tone barely masks the innuendo in his words. The older man nods to Constantine, and your second assailant finally reveals himself, taking off his own ghost mask.

Constantine was presumably a few years younger than Wick, lacking in the facial hair department with only a 5 o’clock shadow, but it defined his sharp jawline more. He almost mimicked Wick to a T.

The sinister look in their matching dark irises only made you squirm more.

“I think you need to apologise for your little tantrum earlier,” Constantine taunts, his tug on your hair, forcing you to crane your neck fully upwards to Wick. Horror hits you like a bucket of ice water when Wick’s large hand slowly rubs over his clothed groin. “Maybe you should kiss it better—”

“Fuck you!” You blurt out, absolutely appalled at the suggestion from these two devilish older men. Another pathetic whimper echoes from you as Constantine, still death gripping your hair, shoves your face against the rough felt material of his cloak. The sadistic asshole only chuckles at your whimpers whereas Wick remained stoic, and unreadable.

“You can either make it up to my friend here,” Constantine’s taunting tone shifts to menacing, “or we’ll find out what your insides look like with this little thing,” he pats the cold blade on your each with each word.

A bead of sweat rolls down your face, mixing in with your salty tears. The hiccups and measly cries release from your frozen figure. Helplessly you watch as Wick rolls his cloak up to his hips, the sharp sound of the belt unbuckling jumps your heartbeat.

“Just one little kiss..” Constantine coos with mockery, his hand finally loosening ever so slightly. Wick’s eyes betray his stone demeanour when you notice a cruel glint in his iris. Biles builds in your throat at the ominous zip of his jeans opening.

Your eyes grew in disbelief when Wick actually took his cock out from under his pants. His cock was flushed, and already hardening. A thick vein ran from the bottom of his thick shaft all the way up to his pink mushroom tip that leaked pre-cum. You look up at him tearfully, almost begging for mercy, only for him to shoot it down by tapping his large dick against your cheek and lips.

“You know what to do..” Wick finally speaks, his baritone voice was soft on your ears. The salty pre-cum made you grimace as Wick pressed his tip against your plump lips, slowly penetrating your mouth. You let out a loud gag and couch, your lips fully stretched around Wick’s cock, and his tip almost hitting the back of your throat.

Constantine’s hand grips your hair tightly again, guiding your harsh movements like a ragdoll. He tugs you back and forth on the older man’s cock, before suddenly forcing your nose against Wick’s short pubes, his shaft fully lodged in your throat.

Guttural moans fall from Wick’s lips, as he clenches his cloak tight, his knuckles widening. You struggle to breathe as you gag on the intrusion in your mouth. Your fingernails found their way to Wick’s thighs, pinching through his jeans. Constantine holds you in this position, until your eyes begin to roll backwards.

“She’s already crying...” Constantine scoffs when he tugs you back. A thick string of spit and saliva connects from your puffy lips to Wick’s glistening cock. You cough harshly, as your throat already begins to ache, and globs of spit dribble down your chin.

“I think you can do better than that..” Wick purrs, his large hand grips your jaw, before gently patting your cheek. You hiccup on your spit, eyes fully blurred with tears when Wick presses the tip of his cock back onto your lips. You flatten your tongue against the underside of Wick’s shaft, taking kitten licks to stall time. Swirling your tongue around his tip, tasting his pre-cum once again, you elicit another husky groan from Wick.

Meanwhile Constantine’s hands venture down from your hair and lower on your body as he kneels behind you, his gloved fingers meticulously feeling each bump of your spine before reaching the swell of your ass. His hot breath hits the back of your neck, and his intruding fingers slide in between your legs, over your silk pajamas shorts.

You squeal suddenly, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Wick grabs your hair once again, focusing your attention back on him, his dick promptly thrusted right back in your mouth.

“I think she’s enjoying this,” Constantine’s chuckles darkly, his thick fingers sliding under your flimsy shorts, feeling the damp spot on your panties with his digits. He presses hard on your bundle of nerves, and a girly whimper is muffled by Wick’s intrusion. Your toes curl, and your hips involuntarily buck when Constantine’s digits move in a slow circle.

“So pretty with my cock in her mouth..” Wick says with a smug smile on his lips, his hand pushing your head aggressively. Your head bobs up and down Wick’s thick cock, your throat sore and your jaw aching as you cling to the fat of his thighs for support.

“She does fucking like it. What a dirty little girl..” Constantine’s slippery fingers managed to hook your panties to the side, your juices coating his digits and only making him laugh cruelly at your expense. Two of his thick fingers slide past your folds, and your spongy walls clenched tightly.

This seesaw movement of your hips grinding on Constantine’s hand as Wick abuses your mouth, has your body trembling, and legs burning from the uncomfortable position. But the two older men drink in every whimper, every cry and every tear— sickeningly getting off on your pain.

Your hair is ruthlessly pulled once again by Constantine. Coughs fill your lungs as you try to catch your breath, your lips completely smeared in spit and pre-cum. Wick’s fingers gather the globs of white spit and shoved into mouth, making you choke. Your throat throbbed, eyes borderline fluttering closed, and your knees were definitely bruised.

Like a fucked out doll, your body was rendering submissive to your two burglars.

“Last question..” Constantine snickers, his lips pressed against your ear.

“How long can she last before she breaks?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Fin.

— taglist. @alwaysinblck @sickzmbie @nyxblessed @hearteyedbambi @worldsgreatestsinner @slutforsoldierboy @rizunaur @alox @sughcashsaiki @cillivnz @starrgurl46 @beansricejc @97keanu @the-trash-site @keanuthot @sulibbyyyyy @20s7nn @aerangi @alyssagames01 @nogr4vity @gea-chan96

#𓂃 josie's kinktober ˚ ₊ ‧#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john constantine x reader #john wick imagine #john constantine imagine #dark.josie #nsfw.josie #banner cr: cafekitsune

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imajinxnation · 3 months

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Hi love! Pretty sure requests are open, if not please delete this, any who can I request all the keanu reeves characters (or the ones of your choosing, but please add Constantine) and reader asking them "would you still love me if I were a worm" 😁😁😁

Worm??

Keanu Characters x Reader

SUMMARY // "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

TW // Fluff, Cussing..

Just to let yas know, when I just say Reader, it means it's gender neutral.

ALL GIFS FOUND ON PINTEREST

John Constantine

As soon as that sentence comes out of your mouth, he freezes and stares at you. He just stares at you, brows furrowed, thoughts running through his head on what to say to that. In the end he has no idea what the fuck to say to your weird question.

"Did I hear that right? Did I REALLY just fucking hear that?" He asks, more to himself than you.

"Yes, you heard me right, now answer my question!" You reply.

John sighs before thinking about his answer carefully, not wanting to upset you over this ridiculous question.

"If you were a worm, would I still love you?.. I'd keep you in a container filled with dirt and whatever else worms need."

He answers with that before walking out of your shared apartment to get some fresh air, and to have a smoke to relax after that unreasonably stressful question.

Just take what he said as a good thing, cause that's the best answer he's gonna ever have.

Ted Theodore Logan

I feel like this dude would try to think up a whole speech about how he'd love you no matter if you were a worm, an alien, or literally anything. He'd try to think of a speech, but fail miserably, instead his mouth just spouts out some real stoner shit.

"Dude/Dudette... I am like the dirt to your worm!" He says with a bright, goofy smile.

He's smiling, but dying on the inside at the dumb shit that just came out of his mouth. He is mentally kicking himself so hard that he doesn't see your happy face that understood what he meant.

He comes out of his self embarrassment when he feels you hug him.

"Ted that is so sweet!" You say, making him feel better.

He hugs you back and kisses your forehead, glad you understood what he meant.

John Wick

Oh Jesus H Christ, give this man a break, really, he loves you, but sometimes he questions why, and this is one of these moments.

He doesn't answer your question until late at night when you're going to bed, needing the whole day to think about a perfect answer for your odd question.

"As long as it's still you, I couldn't care less if you were a worm, love knows no bounds."

And now you're crying, thank you Mr. Wick. But seriously, that's probably the best answer you could have ever gotten.

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beatrice-otter · 10 months

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Time Travel killing Jesus and the religion of empire

There's a post about time travel going around tumblr, and somebody tagged that they would kill Mary before the birth of Jesus, so that Christianity wouldn't exist. Problem is, while that might indeed kill Christianity, it would probably just mean that Constantine would slot Mithraism into his Imperial domination schemes instead. In the late 200s AD there were two mostly-underground monotheistic mystery cults rapidly gaining adherents in the Roman Empire. There were a lot of similarities between the two, at least superficially. For example, there was a lot of emphasis on communal ritual meals. One was Christianity. The other was Mithraism. Constantine was intrigued by both. We know he was involved in Mithraism in his youth. But what Constantine really liked the idea of using religion to unify the Roman Empire. By the 300s, the Roman Empire was beginning to fragment, with regular civil wars. Constantine came to power in one of those civil wars. He thought that if everyone worshiped the same god (instead of different gods worshiped in different places, with the Roman pantheon and emperors as a thin veneer of unity), it would help keep the whole ramshackle edifice together. (Spoiler alert: it did not.) So he picked one of the two monotheistic religions that was rapidly gaining in popularity, and encouraged people to convert to it, heaping power and wealth on (some of) them. And that's how Christianity became an imperial religion. Christianity changed rapidly in response to that. Major parts of the religion were changed or dropped entirely. For example, until Constantine, the vast majority of Christians were strict pacifists. In most communities, soldiers were required to leave the army and find a new trade before they could be baptized. Obviously, this was unacceptable if Christianity was going to become the religion of the Roman Empire. In a straight-up choice between pacifism and Imperial power, the Christian church as a whole dropped the pacifism like a hot potato. 100 years after Constantine you have St. Augustine laying out the "Just War" theory where war is fine as long as you have a good reason for it. That's a complete 180 from everything the early Christians believed. There are many other examples of things that got dropped or changed in Christianity to make it more palatable to Imperial might. There are a lot of toxic things in Christianity as we know it. But the thing is ... many of them come from this process of adapting their beliefs and practices to fit what Constantine (and later Emperors, and the entire power structure of the Empire) wanted Christianity to be. Namely, something tame that affirmed and enforced the existing Imperial power structure. And Christianity has been a partner and tool of the power structures of the dominant culture ever since. This is one of the reasons there's so much difference between Jesus' teachings and Christian teachings, in so many cases. In a straight-up choice between faithfulness and power ... a majority of Christians in the last two thousand years have most often chosen power. But here's the thing. If Christianity didn't exist, that doesn't mean none of this would have happened. It just means that Constantine would probably have chosen Mithraism instead. Do you think the Mithraists would have been any less willing to take the power and wealth on offer to them, in exchange for becoming a lackey of empire? Do you think Christianity was uniquely corruptible? I don't.

comments Comment? https://ift.tt/uspfvE9

#dreamwidth #original post #Christianity #history #ancient history #roman empire

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opencommunion · 4 months

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Hello, I really don’t want to be rude or anything like that but I would love to know any more information about the Christians in Palestine, Lebanon and Syria like, is it true Gaza had family lineages dating back to Jesus Christ? Asking because Ziocucks love making it seem as if Christians don’t exist over there

omg not rude at all, actually this is my favorite thing to talk about (it was a major focus of this blog prior to Al-Aqsa Flood) it's a huge topic so I'll link a ton of resources, but to answer your main question: yes, many Palestinian Christians in Gaza and elsewhere can trace their family history with Christianity back to the 1st century. the Christian community in Gaza is said to have been founded by the apostle Philip. the first bishop of Gaza was the apostle Philemon, the recipient of a Pauline epistle. a core zionist myth is the idea that contemporary Palestinians only arrived in Palestine in the 7th century or even the 20th century (see the links for debunking). but there's plenty of documentation of continuous Christian (and Jewish) presence in Palestine before, during, and after the emergence of Islam. Palestinians (and Levantine ppl more generally, but esp Palestinians because of the totality of their colonial dispossession—stories are often literally the only heirlooms refugee families have) typically have very strong family oral histories going back many centuries, so if a Palestinian tells you their family has been Christian since the time of Christ, take their word for it. community continuity is also about more than family trees—even if someone's family came to Christianity later, they're still part of the continuous living heritage of their community. the continuity of Palestinian Christianity is also evidenced by Palestinian holy sites. because Christianity was illegal in the Roman Empire until Constantine took power, dedicated churches weren't built until the 4th century, but many of these churches were built around existing sites of covert worship—for example the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem was built around a grotto that was already venerated as the site of Jesus' birth, the Church of St. John the Baptist in 'Ayn Karim (a forcibly depopulated suburb of Jerusalem) was built over a 1st century rock-cut shrine marking the site of John the Baptist's birth, and the Church of the Multiplication in Al-Tabigha (a destroyed and forcibly depopulated village on the shore of Lake Tiberias) was built over a limestone slab believed to be the table were Jesus fed the multitude. throughout the Levant there are also many ancient shrines (maqamat) that are shared sites of prayer for both Christians and Muslims; in Palestine many of these sites have been seized by the occupation and Palestinians are prevented from visiting them.

Palestinian Christian communities who are able to travel to the villages they were expelled from in the Nakba will sometimes return there to celebrate weddings and holidays in their ancestral churches, e.g. in Iqrit and Ma'alul (x, x). of course because the occupation heavily restricts Palestinian movement this isn't possible for most refugees.

here's some resources to get you started but feel free to hmu again if you have any more specific questions! Zionism and Palestinian Christians Rafiq Khoury, "The Effects of Christian Zionism on Palestinian Christians," in Challenging Christian Zionism (2005) Mitri Raheb, I am a Palestinian Christian (1995) Mitri Raheb, Faith in the Face of Empire: The Bible Through Palestinian Eyes (2014)

Christ at the Checkpoint: Theology in the Service of Justice and Peace (2012) Faith and the Intifada: Palestinian Christian Voices (1992) The Forgotten Faithful: A Window into the Life and Witness of Christians in the Holy Land (2007) Faith Under Occupation: The Plight of Indigenous Christians in the Holy Land (2012) Palestinian Christians: The Forcible Displacement and Dispossession Continues (2023) Donald E. Wagner, Dying in the Land of Promise: Palestine and Palestinian Christianity from Pentecost to 2000 (2003)—can't find it online but worth checking your library for

Pre-Zionist History James Grehan, Twilight of the Saints: Everyday Religion in Ottoman Syria and Palestine (2016) Ussama Makdisi, Artillery of Heaven: American Missionaries and the Failed Conversion of the Middle East (2008) Kenneth Cragg, The Arab Christian: A History in the Middle East (1992) Christopher MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance (2007) John Binns, Ascetics and Ambassadors of Christ: The Monasteries of Palestine 314-631 (1996) Derwas Chitty, The Desert a City: an Introduction to the Study of Egyptian and Palestinian Monasticism Under the Christian Empire (1966) Aziz Suryal Atiya, A History of Eastern Christianity (1968) Michael Philip Penn, When Christians First Met Muslims: A Sourcebook of the Earliest Syriac Writings on Islam (2015) Early Christian Texts The Acts of the Apostles (1st century, Palestine. yes I'm recommending the bible lol but I promise I'm not trying to evangelize, it just really paints a good picture of the birth of Christianity in Jerusalem and its early spread) The Didache (1st or 2nd century, Palestine or Syria—the earliest known catechism, outlining how Christians were supposed to live and worship) Cyril of Scythopolis, The Lives of the Monks of Palestine (6th century) Sayings of the Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers (early Christian monastics)

for more resources specific to my tradition, the Maronite Church, see this post. for other misc Syriac tidbits see my Syriac tag. this is just scratching the surface so again, if you (or anyone else who sees this post!) have more specific interests lmk and I can point you in the right direction

#palestine #history #church history #library

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babayagakeanu · 2 months

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it’s not living (if it’s not with you)

pairing: John Constantine/reader

Summary: John realizes there’s nothing more in life that he wants more than you.

**this gif sent me into a short spiral so I had to use it. Like how dare you look at me like that sir?**

You’ve know John since you were in the hospital he stayed at when he attempted to take his life, and since you had a medical background, you have been his person to go to when he needed stitching up. Ever since, you two’ve grown closer over the years, and you harbored a serious crush on John. Something about the way his deep eyes bore into you as you speak, always throwing you off balance. Maybe it was because he was older, ten years older and somehow you go off on that.

Or maybe it was because two weeks ago, he stopped at your doorstep liquored up and gave you the best night of your life. Since that heated, drunken night, he hasn’t come around much, and he was in here every other night. You knew you couldn’t trust him with your feelings. Since when do we trust men with gorgeous eyes, who are tall and charismatic, and tease you endlessly? It was ten o’clock at night, you were fresh out of the shower after a long day and ready to relax for the remainder of your evening in front of your tv. Heating up and eating a microwave dinner, you scroll through the channels before settling on some old 2000s rom-com. Finishing your dinner, you set it on the cheap coffee table in front of you, and just as the movie is getting good, John knocks on your door.

Sighing, you know it’s John because he came up with specific knock to use when he needed somewhere safe to land, or close a hole in his flesh. You swing open the door to find John, bloodied and beaten.

“Oh my fucking God, John!” your gasp comes out as a whisper, being mindful of your other neighbors. “What the fuck happened to you?” You help him inside, half of his weight leaning on you as you guide him to the chair in your kitchen.

“Just a coupla’ really strong demons,” he mutters, “got an whiskey?” Another sigh from you. Always drinking, thinking it’s going to heal his inside problems. You slam a glass down in front of him and pour hima few fingers of whiskey. This will also help manage his pain once you start threading through his skin. Walking to the cabinet in the hallway, you grab the first aid kit, along with a suture and needle, and a pair of slightly rusty scissors.

Sitting down in front of him, you open your kit. “Just keep sipping on your drink, John. I’m gonna start, now.” Wiping down your needle with alcohol, you thread the suture through and the first piercing of the needle is enough to make John wince. He gulps his drink greedily, slamming it down on the table.

“Jesus, you never hold back, do you?” He cracks, exhaling shortly as the second pierce happens. You give him a muttered affirmation and he notices your silence. “Why are you so quiet, y/n?”

You sighs rolling your eyes at him. “ ‘Cause, John, I just am today. I’m not really in the mood for your antics tonight. I lost a patient today, seventeen years old.” John groans a final time as you tie the suture, holding it in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, reaching for your hand but you recoil, causing John to look at you weird. “Seriously? What’s going on with you, y/n?” He begs you, and you almost give in, ready to tell him to forget about it, but you’ve reached your boiling point.

“You really don’t get anything, do you, John?” You whirl around, anger seeping through your pores. “Do you remember what happened two weeks ago? Or were you just too fucking drunk to remember?” You spit, venom lacing your words.

He looks at you incredulously. “Me? Remember two weeks ago? Y/n, I can barely remember what I had for lunch yesterday. What has got you all wound up?” He defends himself so easily.

“You wanna know what happened?” You shout, getting closer to him, challenging him to see who could shout the loudest.

“Yeah, I think I do!” John barks back, hands on his hips as he leans closer to your face. You could see the anger swirling in his eyes, and this fight is probably not what he needs right now, but it’s what you need.

“Fine!” You shout, “Two weeks ago, you show up here drunk as a skunk, telling me how much you love me, how much you care about me, and then we fuck!” His eyes are widened, and a small flush is making it’s way to his cheeks. You continue, because you’re not quite finished yet. “And the best part about this is that I can’t stop thinking about you, and how I will never feel like that with anyone else but you! That’s the real fucking reason, John!”

Your rant rings through the halls, and the silence makes itself present. John shakes his head, sits back down, and lights a cigarette. “Y/n, I remember.” Is all he says. You give him a look that’s teetering on ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you’ and ‘you’re dead meat’. “Let me finish,” he warns you, “I remember because I woke up in your bed naked, and with the most gorgeous woman lying next to me. You didn’t see me because I left.” He takes a drag of his cigarette and you ask him why.

“I left thinking that I am not worthy of your love, y/n. I’m a bad person with an even worse conscience. I left thinking there is no way in hell, that someone like you chooses to be with me. Y/n, as soon as I met you, it was over for me. Gone were the days of enjoying my solitude, enjoying my loneliness and misery, because there was you. I am not gonna live anymore if it’s not gonna be with you.” Standing up, he takes your hand and lifts you from your chair. Grabbing your face between his hands, he kisses you sweetly. The smell of a freshly smoked cigarette lingers on his lips and you breath him in. Leather and smoke.

“So does that mean?” You ask him, and he laughs.

“Yeah, I love you, kid.” You squeal, smiling through a kiss as you lead him towards your bedroom, where John shows just how much he can’t live without you.

————————————————————

Just a short one today as I scheme up some new drafts here! I cannot tell you guys how happy I’m back to be in my blog. I deleted the backup before realizing that it would delete my work that I wrote over there, but it’s fine, I wasn’t too happy with that plot for John wick and felt I could do better! Anyways, here’s a Constantine one, because we all love our sexy smart-ass. hugs and kisses!

#smut #john constantine #John Constantine x reader #keanu reeves #fluff

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delta-pavonis · 8 months

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Fic: Send a Thank You Note

(a continuation from Jo and Hob BFF shenanigans... @teejaystumbles you wanted to know what happens next!)

Dreamling || Rated E (CW/tags: nsft, getting together, this is really just an excuse for a bit of smut, Dream is a smartass (affectionate), bisexual Hob Gadling, just because Dream is on top doesn't mean that he doesn't want to take dick)

"Hob," Dream stops in the shadow between two streetlamps. Perhaps that is why his expression seems darker when Hob turns to him, one eyebrow raised, and nods for his friend to continue. "Was Johanna Constantine accurate in her assessment of your desire for me?"

Hob flushes again. Not quite the shade that Dream had observed on him earlier, but it's close cousin. It is sweet. And probably answer enough. But he waits to hear what Hob would say.

"Ah, well..." Hob meets Dream's eyes despite the butterflies trying to make him turn tail and run. One hand flies up to tug at his ear and Hob feels fifteen shades of 1789 all over again. "She does like to embellish the truth, and it is not like I am beholden to exactly what she said, but it isn't like I am against somethi-" He is stopped by delicate fingers on his jaw.

Dream has stepped into Hob's personal space, knows he is closer than the propriety of this age would dictate, which is exactly his intention. He takes a moment to marvel at the warmth of Hob's skin, its texture from stubble, how it trembles when Hob sucks in a breath through his teeth.

The hiss of air draws Dream's eyes to Hob's mouth in a way that is too heated to be unconscious. Hob has wanted this, to just be touched by Dream, by his Stranger, for so long. He lists forward, he can't help it, and when those fingertips press just a little more firmly into his face Hob swallows hard, licking his lips.

The sound that catches in Dream's throat upon seeing that tease of Hob's tongue should embarrass him. It should. He is a King. He is more than a god. He is Endless.

He, as the current turn of phrase goes, doesn't give a single fuck.

Dream might as well sky-write his intentions in lightning for how slowly he moves forward. Hob feels the anticipation as a physical weight pressing into his chest, restricting his breathing to shallow huffs. Dream's palm slides up to cup the stubbled jaw and he leans imperceptibly closer. They don't even close their eyes, Hob lost in endless blue even as their noses brush and Dream's lips touch the barest bit to his.

Hob is the one who caves, bends like tall prairie grass in the wind, hands grabbing at Dream's coat as he closes his eyes and kisses Dream for all he is worth. If he is only going get one shot, he might as well do it right.

But the answering rumble that comes from Dream - part growl, part purr, part groan - causes something in Hob to snap.

The kiss becomes a battle and before Hob can muster his forces for a second attack, he has backed Dream into a wall with a thud.

He opens his eyes. And sees dark green with very familiar brass numbers.

Not a wall.

Hob has Dream pressed up against his front door. Which was previously three blocks in front of them.

But Dream is still kissing him like the only air he can breathe is in Hob's lungs, so he doesn't have time to worry about it.

Dream takes his hand out of his coat pocket, dropping any remaining grains of sand, and pushes off the door with his hips and shoulders. After a twist, Hob's back hits the door harder than Dream's did, the door knocker rattling and a low moan pouring into Dream's mouth. He grabs Hob's thighs just beneath his ass and hefts, sliding Hob up the flat surface until he is at least a head taller, until he can suck on that tempting throat and feel those moans from the outside.

Hob clings to Dream's neck and shoulders, head falling back and Jesus fuck if he knew being manhandled like this was such a turn on he'd have sought out beefier partners sooner. Then teeth bite into his neck hard and Hob yelps.

"Do not dare think of others whil-" Hob's tongue in his mouth stops Dream from continuing that sentence for a solid two minutes. When they part, he has other priorities. "Daydream of your bedroom."

Dream's voice is a command and Hob immediately has the room in his mind's eye, imagines pushing Dream down into his sheets, crawling over him and then there is a strong breeze and...

It is a simple trick to take the location from Hob's mind, step them into that dreamspace and then from there into its Waking World counterpart.

"Bloody hell." Hob looks around, wide-eyed. When he turns back to Dream his pupils are blown and his mouth sinfully red. "You are going to explain that to me." He looks down, gets distracted, and starts biting at Dream's lips again. "Later. Explain later." They tumble into the bed, completely clothed, shoes still on, and Hob is about to pull away to say something sensible like "We should talk about this first," but then he hears Dream's fingers snap and suddenly there is not a scrap of fabric between them. "Oh, fuck me."

Dream hums, pressing as much of his skin to Hob's as he can manage and still maintain the boundaries of this form. "One of many options." He finds that the hollow above Hob's clavicle tastes lovely when sweat beads there, laps it up in long swipes that make the human beneath him shudder. "Is that what you would prefer?"

"Oh god," Hob wraps a leg around Dream's hip and grinds them together. "Anything." He repeats the motion and they both groan. "Everything. Yes."

Hob's incoherence strokes Dream's ego and he preens as he sits up, straddling Hob's thighs. The distance allows him to take in Hob's wrecked state, his mussed hair and flushed cheeks and sweat-damp chest. Their cocks brush against each other and Hob hiccups out a groan. When he wraps a hand around Hob the human arches and wails, clawing at Dream's thighs.

Dream knows what he wants, gives a thought to preparing this body for it, adding oil to make slick body parts that are not usually so. He lets go of Hob's dick and crawls forward, one hand on Hob's chest. "While I do abhor proving a Constantine right..." he reaches back and grabs the base of Hob's cock.

"Fuck! Dream we haven't oh Christ you are wet and open." Hob goes from alarm to awe to ecstasy in half a heartbeat, so quickly he feels dizzy. Then Dream starts to sink down and Hob holds on to bony hips for dear life as he watches his cock disappear into Dream's body. When Dream is fully seated Hob falls back into the pillows with a sob. "Dream. How?"

He plays with Hob's chest hair, runs nails over a peaked nipple, as he speaks. "I am the Shaper of Forms, Hob. I can take whatever form you, or I, need. Or want."

Hob tries to process that for a minute, staring up at the ceiling. "You... we are going to need to have a looong conversation after this because otherwise my bi ass is going to lose my job for not showing up for the next three weeks."

Dream laughs, a rumbling chuckle that Hob actually feels in his cock. "What a shame it would be," he starts rocking his hips, dropping down on just about every word, making Dream's speech keep time with the fucking, speeding up as he goes, "for you to be jobless. To have so much free time. Whatever would you do with yourself?"

"Alright, you sassy minx," Hob snaps his hips up as he pulls Dream's hips down and there, that made the eldritch being in his lap really moan. He repeats the motion until they have a rhythm, until they are lost to it. "Close," Hob whispers too soon, "I can't..."

Dream drives himself down harder and relishes Hob's cry. "We can strive for stamina later," he takes one of Hob's hands and wraps it with his own around his cock, fucking into the channel made between their palms. "Come for me, Hob. Please."

It is the please that does it, makes Hob arch and roar and come so hard he almost-

And then Dream's hand clamps down with his, what Hob would have thought would be painfully tight around his lover's cock, and his pale, lithe body, too, arches and then clenches so fucking tight around Hob that it stretches his orgasm longer, pulls more semen from his body in an impossible, lava-hot rush.

Dream watches as his own spend shoots up onto Hob's neck and face and even into his hair. Their is an additional frisson of pleasure that runs through him that he has marked Hob in such a way. He reaches up and smears some of it onto Hob's lips, who sucks at it greedily with a little whine.

Hob pulls Dream down onto the bed, a quiet grunt as his soft cock leaves his lover's body. His lover. They are on their sides, facing each other, and Hob's hand finds Dream's on his hip, tangles their fingers together. The silence that falls between them is warm with smiles and humid breaths.

"Hob, I know that humans do not always..." Dream frowns, gathers his words, and tries again. This is always where the Prince of Stories trips up, when trying to tell his own. "I realize that acting on physical attraction is not an indication of romantic intent. I would know your intentions, if only to moderate my own actions accordingly."

It takes a second for all that to filter through Hob's sex-addled brain, for him to parse the meaning of so many multisyllabic words, but when he gets it Hob can feel his eyebrows knitting. He traces Dream's cheekbone back to behind his ear and further to cup his skull and bring their foreheads together. "Listen carefully, my Dream," Hob hears his friend's breath hitch at that and he smiles, "Yes, as I have recounted the last one-hundred and thirty odd years to you it has probably been clear that I have been what most would characterize as a shameless slut. But if anything could temper me..." Hob takes a shaky breath. "I have wanted to approach you with romantic intent since June 8, 1489, when I realized how long, truly, it would be until I could see you again. So no moderation is needed, dove." He kisses Dream once, just a chaste press of lips. "Because I want all of you."

Dream surges forward and over Hob, gripping the strong muscles of his neck as they open to each other. They part because they are both grinning too widely, laughter too close to the surface, for their mouths to easily fit together.

"Oh gods," Hob giggles, "I am going to have to tell Jo."

"About that," Dream hums, all imperiously satisfied smile, "I might have let images of our, ah, activities filter into her dreams."

"Oh no, Dream. You didn't!" Hob is overcome with a fit of guffawing laughter that doesn't slow until his diaphragm hurts. "Are you telling me that you sent her the metaphysical equivalent of a picture of us in bed?"

Dream lets himself be distracted by the movement of Hob's neck, by tasting the curves of the muscles of his shoulders. "Perhaps."

Hob lapses into a fit of giggles again. "She is going to kill you."

"I would like to see her try." Hob can feel Dream smile into his skin. "Because I have a feeling if she truly has ill-intent then she will have to get through you first."

Hob laughs again, fingers tugging at Dream's hair until their eyes meet. "Aye, you are probably right, love. You are probably right."

#Dreamling #Pavonis writes

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blueiskewl · 5 months

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A Very Rare 1,000-Year-Old Byzantine Gold Coin Found in Norway

Approximately 1,000 years ago in Constantinople — the bustling capital of the Byzantine Empire — a small gold coin was minted.

Now, about a millennia later, the tiny treasure has been unearthed more than 1,600 miles away from its origin, according to a Nov. 30 news release from the Inlandet County Municipality.

Officials said a metal detectorist stumbled upon the artifact among the mountains in Vestre Slidre, Norway. It’s a rare discovery for Norway, and the seemingly out-of-place artifact appears to be in great condition, especially given its age.

Photos of the coin show each side’s intricate carvings. One side depicts Jesus Christ holding a Bible, while the other shows Byzantine emperors Basil II and Constantine VII, brothers who ruled together, officials said.

Each side also has an inscription. The side showing Jesus has a Latin inscription, which translates to “Jesus Christ, King of those who reign,” according to experts. The side depicting the emperors has a Greek inscription, which translates to “Basil and Constantine, emperors of the Romans.”

Experts said the coin was minted during Basil and Constantine’s reign, likely sometime between 977 and 1025. The dotted circles bordering the coin indicate its age.

HOW DID THE COIN MAKE IT FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO NORWAY?

Experts have tried to determine how the coin ended up in Norway.

One hypothesis is that the artifact belonged to Harald the Ruthless — the king of Norway from 1045 until 1066, according to Britannica.

Before he was king, Harald the Ruthless, also known as Harald Hardråde, served as part of the Byzantine emperor’s guard, experts said. It was customary for guards to loot the palace after an emperor’s death, and three emperors died during Hardråde’s time as a guard.

Once the coin made it back to Norway, it could have been lost along a trade or transportation route, according to experts.

Archaeologists have not had a chance to fully examine the site where the coin was found, but they are planning a broader excavation in 2024, officials said.

By Moira Ritter.

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church-history · 1 year

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Geological and Historical Evidence for Jesus’ Crucifixion Account

At Jesus’ crucifixion, Matthew (27:45-54) reported “From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (cf., Psalm 22)…And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, ‘Surely he was the son of God!’”

Matthew’s passage includes two events that can be historically and geologically confirmed: (1) Darkness covered the land for three hours (c.f., Matthew 27:45; Mark 15:33; Luke 23:44-45) and (2) An earthquake occurred.

“At that same moment about noontide, the day was withdrawn; and they, who knew not that this was foretold concerning Christ, thought it was an eclipse. But this you have in your archives; you can read it there. Yet nailed upon the cross, Christ exhibited many notable signs, by which his death was distinguished from all others. At his own free-will, he with a word dismissed from him his spirit, anticipating the executioners’ work. In the same hour, too, the light of day was withdrawn, when the sun at the very time was in his meridian blaze. Those who were not aware that this had been predicted about Christ, no doubt thought it was an eclipse.”

- Tertullian (197 AD), Jewish Consul

“In the 4th year of the 202nd Olympiad, there was a great eclipse of the sun, greater than had ever been known before, for at the 6th hour the day was changed into night and the stars were seen in the heavens. An earthquake occurred in Bythinia and overthrew a great part of the city of Nicaea.”

- Phlegon (2nd century AD) Greek historian, “Olympiads”

“With regard to the eclipse in the time of Tiberius Caesar, in whose reign Jesus appears to have been crucified, and the great earthquakes which then took place, Phlegon too I think has written in the 13th or 14th book of his Chronicles…Celsus imagines also that both the earthquake and darkness were an invention, but regarding these, we have in the preceding pages made our defense, according to our ability, adducing the testimony of Phlegon, who relates that these events took place at the time when our Savior suffered.”

- Origen (184 – 253 AD), Greek scholar and early Christian father who confirmed Phlegon’s writings

“Jesus Christ underwent his passion in the 18th year of Tiberius [33 AD]. Also at that time in another Greek compendium we find an event recorded in these words: ‘the sun was eclipsed, Bithynia was struck by an earthquake, and in the city of Nicaea many buildings fell.”

- Eusebius (315 AD), Historian of the Emperor Constantine.

What Caused the Three-hour Period of Darkness?

Before determining that the three-hour period of darkness is due to supernatural causes, we must rule out the natural possibilities. We have experienced natural events that have caused darkness during the daylight hours. These include when volcanoes erupt and emit dark clouds and when storms occur and cover the sky with clouds. Yet no Biblical or secular sources indicate any support for a volcanic explosion or storms, so we can rule out those two natural events.

What about an eclipse? The positioning of the sun and moon is required to answer this question. We have much support for the dating of Jesus’ crucifixion on Friday the 14th of Nissan in the year 33 (April 3, 33). This date was further predicted in the book of Daniel (9). Passovers only occurred during a full moon, so an eclipse would not have been possible due to the moon’s location on the far side of the earth away from the sun. Even if the positioning were conducive to an eclipse, eclipses only darken the earth for short moments, not for three hours, so we have another reason to rule out that natural option.

Is the Best Explanation to Explain this Event a Supernatural Explanation?

I will let readers answer that question for themselves.

Geological Support for the Earthquake

Scholars have reported that devastating earthquakes occurred in Jerusalem during Christ’s death (Mallet, 1853; Rigg, 1941). This occurred in a region that includes the Dead Sea fault, which is a plate boundary that separates the Arabian plate and the Sinai sub-plate (Garfunkel, 1981). This fault has been active since the Miocene (Kagan, Stein, Agnon, & Neuman, 2011) and the fault is still active today (De Liso & Fidani, 2014). The fault extends from the Red Sea in the south to the Taurus Mountains in the north.

Kagan and colleagues (2011) analyzed seismites in the Holocene Dead Sea basin by constructing two age-depth chronological models based on atmospheric radiocarbon ages of short-lived organic debris with a Bayesian model. Seismites are sedimentary beds and structures, which are deformed by seismic shaking. The scholars analyzed seismites in different areas of the basin, finding that several synchronous seismites appeared in all sections during particular years, including 33 AD (+/- 2 sigma; 95% confidence interval). Other years in which earthquakes occurred as evidenced by seismites are (AD unless otherwise noted): 1927, 1293, 1202/1212, 749, 551, 419, 33, 31 BC, and mid-century B.C.

After analyzing laminated sedimentary cores recovered at the shores of the Dead Sea, Migowski, Agnon, Bookman, Negendank, and Stein (2004) also confirmed an earthquake in 33 AD with a magnitude of 5.5. They documented earthquakes around 33 AD in 31 BC and 76 AD. The scholars analyzed seismites using radiocarbon dating.

Ben-Menahem (2014) conducted a literature review of empirical studies over 4,000 years of seismicity along the Dead Sea Rift. The scholar referenced the aforementioned studies along with one by Enzel, Kadan, and Eyal (2000) before concluding that earthquakes occurred in Masada in 31 BC, Jerusalem in 33 AD, and near Nablus in 64 AD.

In summary, the literature on seismicity along the Dead Sea basin supports the assertion that an earthquake occurred either in or very close to the year 33 AD.

We can pinpoint the date even closer – to April 3, 33. A United States government federal agency, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, has documented the major earthquakes throughout history. According to their website (NOAA.gov), in 33 AD, an earthquake occurred at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in Bithynia and Palestine and Palestine, Jerusalem.

Conclusion

In summary, we have extensive extra-biblical support for the accounts of darkness and the earthquake during Jesus’ crucifixion. Taken together, these events support the historicity of the account of Jesus’ crucifixion.

source: abbreviated from https://christian-apologist.com/2019/01/05/geological-and-historical-evidence-for-jesus-crucifixion-account/

#church history #catholic #Christian #crucifixion #good friday #geology #origen #eusebius #tertullian #phlegon

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

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could we please see more of apprentice readers childhood?

When Constantine's door opened, he saw a regal looking woman with a cane and possibly the scruffiest looking kid he'd ever seen. Scrawny. Looking like a feral cat. But fuck if her face wasn't familiar.

"Aris what-"

"By order of the white council," Aris said, "And the Wardens of the bloodline, John Constantine is declared the custodial parent of-"

"Parent what the bloody-"

"Parent," Aris said louder, tightening her grip on the scruff of the kids neck, making her whine in protest, "Of this child- The progeny of Camile-

"Damn it, what's she done?"

"While she serves a sentence on the Astral Plane for breaking the laws established by-"

"Jesus suffering fuck," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Established by laws both magical and binding."

"Why me?" he scoffed. "You're her grandmother-"

"She's tainted," Aris sniffed, relinquishing her grip on your neck and causing you to crumple to the floor with your backpack. Making John Realize she'd been holding you off the floor. "But she can't be allowed to be uneducated. She's too powerful to be left to her own devices." She glanced down at you like something dirty. Like you were mystery garbage she'd nearly put her foot into- not her flesh and blood. And looked at John with a sneer, "Good luck."

And before you could heave your way to your feet, struggling with the weight of your pack, she was gone.

"You got a name, kid?" he asked.

"Y/N," you murmur, looking down, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Well, come on. We haven't got all day and some of us have to work for a living. And walked away- leaving you to scramble to follow.

#Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd #Apprentice!reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert

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teecupangel · 1 year

Note

Just binge watched Lucifer on Netflix and now I present to you:

Desmond Miles survives 2012 (Desmond Miles Lives truthers, where ya at?), gets the hell outta dodge from the temple with new POE powers, and gets hired to work at Lux in LA. Meets his new boss and both of them are like, "!"

Lucifer instantly knows this boy is hella special because, damn does his soul reek of Isu Bullfuckery. (Headcanoned God and his Angels are sort of a rival interdimensional species to Isu, and God is the one who supposedly gave humans free will... idk I never paid attention to bible study anyway.)

Does the whole, "what do you desire?" schtick and Desmond, due to POE powers and Isu Bullshittery, wonders 'why the fuck is actual Satan here in LA?'

I imagine a platonic bromance relationship between these two. Y'know? 'Cause on the one hand we have the Reluctant Ruler of Hell and on the other hand the Reluctant Savior/Sacrificial Lamb of Humankind.

Lucifer could offer safety and protection from whoever Desmond is hiding from, while Des can be his bartender/bouncer/very much-needed BFF. And come on, I betcha good ole Lucy boy (and Maze) would absolutely enjoy dragging a couple a lot of Abstergo people Vidic down to Hell for multiple crimes against humanity(i.e. kidnapping and unethical human experimentation which results in mental instability.)

I’m all in for this idea. Desmond and Lucifer being bash brothers, yes please. Just imagine the chaos these two would get to because they're both morally dubious? XD

Also, just imagine how much faster Chloe would be finishing her cases with Desmond’s Eagle Vision? She would have two cheat codes with her this time.

Anyway, I’m going to focus on how we can integrate Lucifer into AC more in this one.

Before anything, just a sorta fun trivia: Lucifer has a little cameo in Crisis on Infinite Earths and he talks to John Constantine, implying they have some sort of history together. John Constantine is played by Matt Ryan who voiced and mocap’ed Edward Kenway XD

We will be keeping this contained to Lucifer though but you can totally add a John Constantine cameo and set it during the time Desmond is working in Lux (and you can totally add Desmond feeling some sort of longing and sorrow because John Constantine sounds and looks familiar to his Bleed of Haytham Kenway)

Alright, with that little trivia out of my system, let’s talk about how we can push Lucifer into AC canon.

(You might not have paid attention to bible study but my religion teacher was so boring he had to implement a rule that there should be no other notebook/books related to other subjects on our table during class because we kept doing other subjects when he’s lecturing us soooooo I was bored enough to read the bible he made us bring every class. I'm sure he'll be proud I'm using what I learned in his class for fic related things XD)

Let’s talk about God in Lucifer’s show. He’s obviously based on the Judeo-Christian God. Now, we have no confirmation if that said God does exist as an Isu in Assassin’s Creed BUT we do have a leeway we can use to make it easier to integrate the characters from Lucifer into Assassin’s Creed.

The Templar Order uses the phrase “May the Father of Understanding guide you”. Now, this is based on the Isu triad that pops up a bit.

The one we’re more familiar with is the Capitoline Triad where Tinia is known as the “Father of Understanding”.

However, there is an earlier iteration of this triad.

The Isus who created humans.

And the one to hold the title of ‘Father of Understanding’ during that time is Yaldabaoth.

From Wikipedia

Gnosticism presents a distinction between the highest, unknowable God, and the Demiurge, "creator" of the material universe.

Gnostic Christians considered the Hebrew God of the Old Testament as the evil, false god and creator of the material universe, and the Unknown God of the Gospel, the father of Jesus Christ and creator of the spiritual world, as the true, good God.

If we use the statements above and the fact that Yaldabaoth is considered one of the creators of mankind, we can set up God as another Isu scientist who had an alternate idea of a workforce but his idea was pushed aside and Yaldabaoth’s project with the other two Isu scientists moved forward.

God, in anger, created his ‘children’ together with the Goddess. And, to complete the triad, we’ll add Lilith as an Isu as well instead of Adam’s first wife. The three of them (although Lilith has a more advisory role to this entire thing and is actually working on her own workforce idea) created the ‘Angels’, trying to one-up all the data they could get from Yaldabaoth’s project to make them better than humans.

They are. Unfortunately, that meant they were also… shall we say… ‘freer’ than humans as well. God knew that the Isus would see them as defective and, not only that, many would find what they have done as some form of betrayal and being stripped of their rank and status would be the lightest sentence the Isu would give them. So God and Goddess kept the Angels a secret, and passed them off as human slaves while Lilith went her merry way and continued to work on her personal workforce.

And now we come to the whole ‘gave mankind freewill’.

So many like to point at Lucifer as being the serpent that gave Eve the forbidden fruit. Let’s use it. Lucifer, being one of God’s first children, takes an Apple of Eden and presented it to Eve who used it to start the Human-Isu war. Lucifer takes up arms to join the humans.

Things get super messy when they find out about the impending Solar Flare and God and Goddess decided to add their consciousness to a device called ‘Heaven’. (In this setup, Goddess!Charlotte would be like a more ‘questionable’ setup of an Isu consciousness overwriting a human’s consciousness). Their children (who did have the kind of body that would survive a solar flare and were more or less immortal) were tasked with guarding ‘Heaven’.

Except Lucifer who, as punishment for starting the whole Human-Isu war, was tasked to guard a device called ‘Hell’. He guarded it together with Lilith’s ‘children’, the demons.

What these two devices do will be a mystery but they are connected to the Gray in some way and to the Calculations. Perhaps it’s even the actual database of all the Calculations and, by that very definition, it housed all the knowledge, memories and emotions of every living thing in the world.

What defines them as a person.

What defines their soul.

And, from there, we can just integrate all Celestial things in the show as this entirely more advanced workforce’s ‘code words’. (And the devices are connected and that’s why God could boot the Goddess into hell)

By the time 2013 rolls around, Lucifer already owned Lux for a few years now and Desmond applies as a bartender as he’s had enough of all these Assassin-Templar BS to last him a lifetime. He saved the world, this is his damn retirement plan.

Lucifer sees him and goes ‘how interesting, an actual human-POE hybrid.’ while Desmond sees him and goes ‘why does he feel… familiar?’ because his Isu genes and POE-hybridness is giving him signals that Lucifer is definitely not human BUT he ain’t an Isu too.

He’s… Isu-adjacent.

Like Maze.

So Desmond continues to work there and Lucifer finds the perfect time to do the whole “what do you desire?” and Desmond’s POE-hybridness just kicked in.

We’ll make it in this fic that all the Apples are connected to one another and they have a ‘shared memory space’ so Desmond ‘remembers’ that this is the smug bastard who gave the Apple to Eve.

And, because of his limited knowledge of religion, he goes “Why the fuck is actual Satan here in LA?!”

(side note: some count Satan and Lucifer as two different beings but, in this case, we’ll just make Satan another name for Lucifer)

So now they both showed their hands. Lucifer just blatantly showed he wasn’t human and Desmond just showed he has Isu-related knowledge.

Cue an entire night of trying to get drunk while talking about what the fuck happened to them (with special mention to their daddy issues and the whole reluctant ruler of hell and the ‘more-or-less pushed into it’ savior/sacrifice)

At the end of their heart-to-heart, Desmond becomes Lucifer’s main confidant and slowly becomes his BFF. Lucifer uses his mojos to keep Desmond hidden from both Assassins and Templars.

Also… it’s not just Abstergo’s that in his shitlist. William Miles is there as well, that’s for damn sure.

Another subplot we can add is that Lucifer ‘asking’ Chloe to look into Abstergo just so he can, you know… ask them… what they desire?

Other unorganized notes:

What do we do with Juno? I set it to 2013 so Desmond dealt with Juno before peacing out to be a random bartender. Hey, if Ubisoft can do it in the comics, we can take out Juno with one paragraph… maybe even one sentence.

Desmond could see through Maze’s shapeshifting. Whenever he uses Eagle Vision, he sees Maze’s true form.

Actually, Desmond’s Eagle Vision has been powered up by his POE-hybridness that he sees EVERYONE’s true form. His only description of Lucifer’s form? “Bright as fuck.” (this also means Desmond knows Michael by 'sight')

Also, Amenadiel? He looovvveess Desmond’s Shirley Templars.

Lucifer’s deals? He has a connection to Hell and, because of that connection, he’s connected to the Calculations as well. In this case, any deal he makes impacts the Calculations slightly so the person making the deal would get what they want.

Also, this:

#desmond being bff with the devil #lucifer having an actually uncomplicated honest (platonic) relationship for once #the one who suffers is maze #a lot #assassin's creed #desmond miles #lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #ask and answer #i am still sad constantine didn’t get a 2nd season #liked matt ryan since criminal minds

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iovesia · 11 months

Text

WORDS ARE FUTILE DEVICES.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. because saying it out loud is hard, constantine won't say anything at all. but he can show you.

—⠀john constantine⠀𝒙⠀ fem!reader.⠀|⠀angst⠀&⠀smut.

warnings. self indulgent fic. crying. arguing. emotional sex. oral (f receiving). p in v. declaration of love. slightly ooc constantine. slight body worship. awkward ending because i'm lazy.

𝒿osie's note . ⁺ ˖ ⌒ this is a songfic and not proof read because i wrote this at 2am but ANYWAYS!! i love some angst constantine so i had to write this up for my fellow constantine girlies— hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. requests are open. ⠀masterlist.⠀keanu reeves masterlist.

“I’ll see you soon then,” you mumble, eyes still fixated on the raven-haired man sitting at the table. Constantine looks up and shares a brief glance with you before returning to his cigarette and occult notebook. Before opening the door, you spin on your heels, “I love you.”

He hums.

You pause, hand on resting on the handle as you wait. Wait for any reciprocation of love: a sentence, even just one more look your way— but nothing. Constantine remains deep in his thoughts, mumbling frustratedly to himself as continues scribbling notes on a page.

You try not to cry when you shut the door behind you.

“What are you doing?”

You shove past him, knocking into his shoulder as you messily grab a hold of your clothes from the closet. Messily tossing it into the open bag on the bed, you struggle to ignore the burning in your heart. Constantine’s steps echo into the room as he begins to throw whatever you put in out the bag, entering a tiresome loop before you eventually give up.

“Whatever— keep it, I’ll get it later,” you sigh defeatedly.

“Later? What later?”

You ignore his question, and start heading for the door, not before Constantine grips onto your forearm and pulls you back. Huffing at this, you shake your arm to try to escape his grasp but to no avail. “Constantine, let go.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh, brows furrowing at the name. “Constantine? Jesus, you haven’t called me that in years.”

“Well, get used to it. I’m leaving.”

“What? What is going on with yo—”

“Me?” You spat, pushing against his chest with your free arm. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that right?” His grip loosens for a moment, letting you snatch your arm back. With a sneer on your lips, you turn back to the bag on the bed, zipping it and throwing it over your shoulder. “I’m done being your little errand girl, John.”

Constantine scoffs as he puts his forehead over his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “What are you talking about?” The taller man follows you close behind, and you jolt backwards when he clutches your bag. You purse your lips angrily, before tossing the bag to the floor, the thud making you wince.

“Do you even love me?”

Constantine’s face washes with confusion, his lips parted for a moment as if he were to say something— but again, nothing. “Like.. really love me? Or am I just something you keep around to fuck when you’re bored?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Because it’s true, or because you disagree?”

“Of course, it’s not true. Jesus, what’s the matter with you?”

Taking a deep sigh, you swallow the growing lump in your throat. “You’re incapable of loving anything,” you quip, ignoring the way his face drops. Your body disobeys you as irritated tears cloud your eyes, and you angrily wipe your eyes. “Christ, and the worst part is its so easy for me. It’s so easy for me to adore you.” You take a step closer to Constantine, and he eyes you carefully every step. His thoughts clouded with confusion, and a bubbling guilt in his core.

“I love you so much. Even when you’re mean, or you’re when you’re never home, or even when you can’t say it back. I-I just.. I can’t stop loving you. A-And I just wished you’d feel an inch of what I feel—”

“I do.”

“No you don’t!” You shout, and Constantine’s eyes widen at your sudden change in tone. “Where is this love? Huh? You love having me, you love fucking me— you don’t love me!”

“Stop saying that,” Constantine’s baritone voice knocks your confidence down a few notches, but you’re too consumed by heartbreak to even stop yourself. You cover your face with your hands, refusing to let him see the devastation on your face. For the years you’ve been together you let it slide. Maybe he was just a reserved person, he needs time, he doesn’t have to say it for him to mean it— piles and piles of excuses. “You know I care about you.”

“I don’t, John! I really don’t!” You interrupt, and Constantine rolls his eyes at your outburst. “When you love someone, you at least show it if you can’t say it.”

You pant as you finish your rant, staring at his face, searching for any crevice of understanding. Constantine just glances back at you, his eyes deep in thought once again. Moments that feel like eternity pass, and the silence was suffocating.

Suddenly, Constantine’s lips pressed gently against yours, his hands cupping your face, kissing you so tenderly as if you were made of glass. Slowly, your feet stumble backwards as the two of you begin to shift towards the bed. Your back meets the bed as Constantine straddles you. You reach for his shirt and sloppily undo his buttons as Constantine slides your shirt off your torso, and unclasps your bra. He cups your breasts in his hands, his thumbs gently rubbing over your nipples. Constantine bends down and begins pressing soft kisses to your jaw as his hands trail down your figure. He gradually begins kissing down your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes widened slightly at the sudden confession. “You deserve better, I know you know that.” Constantine pauses his movements, his shameful eyes staring into your adorning ones. Licking his lower lip, he glances off to the side. Constantine swallows the lump in his throat, bobbing his Adam’s apple. He was never one for a guilty conscience.

“I don’t care. I don’t want better— I want you, John.” You lean upwards, a hand brushing a loose strand from his face. He stiffens when you plant a light peck on his jaw, your fingers curling in his dark hair. Constantine’s lips meet yours in a harder, more passionate kiss and you feel his tongue swipe across your lower lip. His stray hand has slid underneath your waistband and you gasp into his mouth when his thumb begins toying with your clit.

“You’re so beautiful,” Constatine hums, almost like you wouldn’t hear him, but the heat blooming in your face says otherwise. You sense Constantine shuffling lower down your body, leaving behind a trail of tender kisses along your breasts and torso. His large hands wrap around your thighs, pulling them apart to reveal your glistening cunt. “So wet already, and all for me, hm?” he whispers, the air from his words is hot on you.

“Mhm,” you mumble, your fingers managing to find their way tangled again in Constantine’s dark locks. You arch your back when Constantine’s mouth meets your bundle of nerves, his tongue moving in agonisingly slow circles. Your thighs tremble and your grip on his hair tightens— eliciting a soft groan from him. His hand spreads the folds of your cunt, and a sharp gasp escapes your lips when you feel two fingers plunge into you. “F-Fuck— that feels so good.”

Constantine’s unoccupied hand lets go of your thigh and presses down your stomach, holding you in position as you squirm under his touch. “J-John, it’s too much— I’m g-gonna cum,” something tightens in your core, and your thighs begin to shake, internally begging for more friction from his tongue.

“Cum for me, doll,” he mumbles, before once again latching onto your cunt, bringing you over the edge. Your legs spasm as a wave of pleasure washes over your sensitive body.

You try and catch your breath, as Constantine sits up, shuffling in between your legs. He leans down, pushing your legs up until your thighs are firmly pressing against your chest. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he smirks, before his mouth met yours once again and you taste your juices on his lips. The sound of pants unzipping hits your ears and you clench at the feeling of his swollen head rubbing down your wet cunt.

You bite your lower lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut as his thick cock begins stretching you out. His breath is warm on your face, as he adjusts your leg to be over his shoulder, this new angle allowing him to fully bottom out inside you. Steadily, you feel him thrusting in and outside of you, his forehead resting against yours. Any closer together and you would’ve meshed into one. Constantine envelopes his hand in yours, holding it against the bed and swallowing your moans as his thrusts get harder.

“Open your eyes, I wanna look at you, please.” This new— vulnerable— side of Constantine intrigued you, and made your heart flutter. He’s never begged you for anything before, and now here he was; begging for you to look at him the way you had done so many times before. “I don’t want you to have better..”

Before you could say anything, you gasped at a particularly hard thrust. Your walls clenched around his throbbing cock, and you could feel him pressing against your cervix. “It’s.. a shitty thing to say, but it’s true. I want you with me, not someone better— you’re mine.”

You hate how you moan at his selfish confession. You hate that you love the feeling of his hand in yours. You hate that you crave him so desperately.

“I-I’m yours, John. T-That’s all I-I wanna be— oh, God,” your vision was blurred as you felt your second orgasm nearing. Constantine’s thrusts became sloppier and faster and you knew he was close as well. It wasn’t long before your bundle of nerves shot pleasure through your entire body and you came all over his cock. Constantine’s relentless movements didn’t halt as he thrusted harder and deeper, before eventually spilling into you, his cum filling you to the brim.

You’re breathless and barely notice Constantine lifting his weight off you, but staying firmly inside you. Your head lolls to the side, not before Constantine softly grabs your face, turning you to look at him. His darkened eyes focused on your tear stained face.

“I love you, is that what you wanna hear?” You nod as Constantine’s fingers wipe away your stray tears. “I’m serious. I love you, it’s just that..” he pauses for a moment, “It’s hard to say it outloud.”

﹙ ♡ ﹚─ taglist: @desoolate@sughcashsaiki@vezuiv@slutforsoldierboy@br-2408@jaga2137@beansricejc@emosludge@nwheregirl . . !

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#john constantine x reader #john constantine imagine #john constantine smut #john wick imagine #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine

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imajinxnation · 3 months

Note

Hi! So I have two ideas for request on my mind. I will not ask you to fulfill two requests, I will be glad to read one of them.

So it’s up to you. Love your writing.

1. Constantine teaching Reader a magical skill, creating a heartwarming and intimate moment as they share knowledge and connect on a deeper level.

2. Constantine surprises Reader with a handcrafted magical charm or artifact that he created, imbued with protective and loving enchantments, symbolizing his commitment and affection.

Soft For You

John Constantine(2005) x Reader

SUMMARY // It's your birthday and your boyfriend got you a present.. What could it be??

TW // Fluff, Cussing, Slight Angst..

THIS!!!! I'M SO SOFT FOR HIM AGGGHHHHH!!!!

This is short and sweet cause I couldn't think of any other storyline..

ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST

Unfortunately, you woke up alone in bed this morning. Great way to start your birthday! You were hoping to get some morning cuddles from your boyfriend, but only felt cold sheets beside you. Seems he had been out of bed for awhile. You went searching your apartment for him, but he was nowhere to be found, no note, no nothing.

Upset, you made yourself breakfast, suddenly not feeling very celebratory about turning a year older. You quickly eat your breakfast before deciding to go for a walk, needing some fresh air, hoping it would keep your mind off your absent boyfriend. On your walk, you noticed a stray cat on top of a trash can. You smiled and walked over cautiously, wanting to see if it was friendly and would let you pet it, luckily it was, and appreciated the pets.

"You know, one day he's gonna tell me when he leaves to do a job and NOT leave me high and dry.." You sigh, realizing you're talking to a fucking cat.

You stop petting the cat and head back to your apartment, the walk wasn't helping with your thoughts. Soon enough, you get back home and open the door.. wait. You locked the door when you left.

"John? You back?" You ask loudly as you close the door behind you.

"Yeah, just... uh, gimme a minute, I'll be right there!" He calls back.

You let out a breath of relief, glad it was just John and not someone who broke in. You set your jacket on the coat rack and left your shoes by the door. You're curious as to what he could be doing right now, and just as your about to head to your bedroom to check on him, he comes out, hands behind his back, as if hiding something.

You tilt your head, curious at what he had in his hands that he was hiding from me.

"Whatcha got there, John?" You gesture to him and what he has behind his back.

"..Nothing.." He replies.

You narrow your eyes at him and launch at him, trying to see what he has that he's acting suspitious about. He moves away and fights back, not letting you see for a second what he has.

"Baby (Girl/Boy), stop it, it's really nothing special!" He laughs, slightly nervous.

"If it's nothing special, then why are you trying so hard to hide it? Is this another one of your artifacts? You usually don't hide them here.." You reach behind him, but he avoids your grasp easily.

"Okay! Here, you can see, Jesus.." He throws the artifact to you. You catch it easily, quick reflexes tested, still working.

It's small and has the shape of a dog whistle, but with a chain and clasp to wear it. You turn it around and notice the markings on it, your thumb feeling the indents of where the metal was carved into.

"It's enchanted with a protection spell.. I enchanted it. Uh, you can also open it and put something inside if you want," he stratches the back of his neck, nervous about your reaction.

"..You made this?" You ask, your eyes flickering from the necklace to your flustered looking boyfriend.

"I just enchanted it and did the engravings, that's all.. Happy Birthday.." He says quietly, embarrassed.

You smile widely when he says those two words, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas day. He's not paying attention when you hug him tightly, and end up making him jump from the sudden contact.

"Thank you, Babes, I love it," You tell him.

His eyes soften while you aren't looking, but still, he gives a nonchalant response.

"Yeah, yeah, you fuckin' sap," he says, facial expressions not matching his words, especially as he ruffles your hair. He rolls his eyes, but a soft smile graces his face, relieved you like his gift.

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rainycat2 · 1 year

Text

dare not say that a man forgets sooner; i have loved none but you

The Dead on Main fanfic I promised. AO3 link here! First chapter is short.

(Edit 3/6/23 for clarity)

Chapter One: The Invite

Constantine knew that, on occasion, he had the seemingly-supernatural ability to get himself into some really, truly, utterly bonkers situations. Being a magician in the first place would be a good starting place, much less having effectively escaped death itself by selling his soul sixty ways to Sunday.

But this?

This was the shit frosting on the particularly radioactive, glowing-green shit cake.

Really, his day had been going pretty well before all of this happened. Comparatively. There hadn’t been any major crises or bullshit that he’d been dragged into, or forced to consult on. The only thing on his docket was the meeting at the Watchtower he was being “asked” to “advise” on, regarding a JLD matter that had the potential to need the daylight League. See, he knew it wasn’t necessary, but the damn Bat was so paranoid he’d jump at a shadow if it so much as flickered the wrong way, so.

Watchtower it was.

The meeting had progressed relatively normally, to his relief, but close to the end, right when he’d started considering actually lighting the cigarette that dangled between his teeth, right when he’d started properly zoning out… power zipped down his spine, shocking him into sitting straight up. Cold shot down his arms, gooseflesh rising at the sensation as he blinked, then cursed. Captain Marvel shot up as well, looking around like he’d been hit over the head with a pan.

Death magic.

“Get back from the table, you bloody-!” Before he could even finish the curse, a glowing green hole in goddamned reality ripped open in front of his eyes, hovering above the table. It hurt to look at, frankly, the sickly neon green turning to black to green to purple to white to green--

Augh, Jesus. He tore his eyes away before the not-fully-in-reality hole could melt his brain. “Don’t look at the damn thing,” he barked, shielding his eyes slightly with a hand.

“What is it,” Bats growled, every line in his posture screaming defense, tenseness, ready to fight.

“It’s-”

A sharp, comical, almost cartoonish pop hit their ears, once again cutting the Brit off as two envelopes fluttered to the meeting room table, the hole in reality just. Disappearing. There one second, gone the next before he could even process.

Constantine sighed heavily, taking a long, long swig from the flask tucked into his coat pocket before he examined the letter, noting the swirling black script addressed to him. Well, nothing really to lose, he noted, picking it up and breaking the seal quickly.

To John Constantine, Tenant of the House of Mystery, Master of the Arcane Arts, Deceiver of Death, and all other titles that he Lay Claim to;

His High Majesty of the Infinite Realms, of Purgatory, of the Underworld and all other names through History and Time, High King Daniel Phantom, Balance of Life and Death, Champion of All, Ancient of Space, requests your presence at the upcoming Samhain Ball.

Attire is black-tie, masks are optional, and weapons are restricted. All souls upon acceptance of this invitation shall be bound to an oath of peace for the duration of the Ball, which shall last one Earth day, twenty-four hours, or one rotation of the Planet Earth orbiting Sol in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Accommodations for all who request it shall be made in the King’s Keep in the Infinite Realms, with travel, food, and all other necessary needs provided.

The Samhain Ball is dated to October 31st, 20XX to the early morning of November 1st, 20XX.

Please either accept or decline this invitation by October 5th, 20XX so the appropriate accommodations can be arranged.

-Their Excellency, Ancient of Time, Former Consort of King Pariah Dark, Advisor to the King, Lord Clockwork of the Infinite Realms

“...shit."

#dead on main #danny x jason #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc #ghost king danny #arranged marriage au #royal politics nonsense #my fanfic writing #gonna import the other dpxdc fanfic im working on soon #anyway catch y'all later #pls give feedback if you wish #canon is my playground and i am a chunky toddler with a sandcastle pail

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