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#constantine fanfic
97keanu · 6 months
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John Constantine x f!Reader
Premise: As Constantine's assistant, he tests your limits often. You know you're a smart, good girl. So when one wrong placed bet has you on your knees for Constantine as he enacts only your wildest fantasies, you don't know where you two stand anymore. You thought your little crush on him was buried deep, but it turns out you are willing to do much more than you ever want to admit. Tonight, he pushes you farther than you thought he ever would...
Tags/CW: MEAN!Constantine, bratty!reader, princess coded!reader, reader who thinks she's too good for you, leashed!reader, pet play, puppy!reader, bimbo-fied!reader, bdsm, age gap, p in v, f!reader, crybaby-ish!reader, crying kink, choking, AGGRESSIVE, oral (m receiving.), dub-ishcon, degradation, humiliation, praise kink, girl on top, raw, edging.
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You knew making a bet with Constantine was never the right move. Your pride got ahead of you, trailing behind it your ego, and your intelligence, that you love to portray in yourself, nowhere to be found. You knew there was no way you would be able to figure out how to hunt a demon all by yourself, you should have never accepted a bet that if you did, Constantine would start treating your training seriously. Now, you've lost, and on top of it, you agreed to do whatever Constantine said from now on. And that does mean, whatever he says, you soon realize...
"I am not doing that, Constantine!" You stomp a chunky heeled foot and fold your arms, trying to look mean and serious the way he does, but failing.
"What's wrong, you're such a 'goody-two-shoes' that you can't have some fun every now and then?" He takes a long draw from his cigarette, he's so close you can smell the cologne mixed with smoke coming from him.
It was bitter and spicy, only the smallest hint of sweetness.
"Fun? You think leashing me is some sort of 'fun' for me?" You scoff and glare as he blows smoke into your face, batting it away with one hand.
"Yeah, it'll loosen you up a bit. Maybe you can turn that bright mind of yours off while I tug on your leash and make you sit pretty." He gives you a thump in your forehead when he mocks your smart tendencies, and you feel anger rising even more.
Your cheeks go red and you know you just look even more pathetic when you're mad at like this.
"I don't see how any of this has to do with learning to hunt demons or helping you." You scoff and turn your eyes from him, completely baffled by the whole idea.
"It might teach you that you can't just go off on your own trying to slay a demon before you're ready. It also might show you where you fit in all of this..." He teases you, pull a lock of your hair between two of his fingers.
"And where's that? Beneath you?" You say it with disdain, but the truth is that you wouldn't mind that so much. The heat between the two of you has been brewing since you started the job with him. It was only a matter of time...
"Lighten up, Princess. It's just my way of pay back for you losing the bet. Besides, I might even give you a treat if you're a good girl." He pulls your chin up, forcing your big doe eyes to look into his deep brown ones.
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And that's how you ended up here. On your knees, a leather collar around your dainty little neck, looking up at Constantine as he tugs you towards him. You can't believe you've been brought so low. You started this job because you thought you had the smarts and academic research to help aid in finding demons. Now you're looking up at your own personal demon.
"Crawl." Constantine commands, and pulls on your leash, forcing you to follow if you don't want to be choked.
You feel so humilated. Your cheeks heat to a level that you didn't think possible, and your lip quivers as you try to force down your sudden feelings of inadequacy. Constantine is not stopping until you really know your place.
"Sit." He finally says once he's dragged you to the bedroom, yanking on your chain when you don't do so fast enough.
You feel tears welling up, and soon enough, you know it's not just because of how embarrassed you feel about the situation. Instead, you feel yourself beginning to like being commanded as such. Deny it all you want as tears roll down your cheeks, but you like giving up all the control you fight for.
"Don't cry," Constantine laughs at you, his cruelty knowing no bounds. "You don't know how much more it turns me on to see you cry..."
"You're sick..." You whisper and look at the ground, but Constantine's yank of your leash stops you from looking away.
"Don't act like you're not enjoying this, Princess. I can see it in your eyes." You gaze at him and hate how easily your rising arousal is seen.
Constantine sits on the bed, watching as you sit on your knees before him. The hard wood floors are leaving your knees aching already, and somehow that pain is sending heat between your legs in waves.
"I want you to undress." Constantine commands you.
You want to resist. You know resisting is almost as bad as admitting defeat, however. And since you've already lost once, getting you into this situation, you feel like the test is on now.
"This is completely ridiculous..." You grumble, your hands folding over your chest.
"Is it?" Constantine laughs while he looks down at you, cheeks hot and wet. "You're the one who agreed to let me test your limits however I desired. You knew what you might be getting yourself into. I'm sure you secretly hoped it would come to this."
His voice chides you like a child, making you feel even lower, and the worst part was, he was right. Fantasies of Constantine doing whatever he pleased with you had floated through your head when you agreed. You never thought it would involve treating you like a bad puppy, however.
"You're so cruel to me..." The last part comes out in a whisper as your arms move, lifting your shirt to reveal what you have on underneath.
"Interesting how such a prude as yourself has such sexy lingerie underneath..." Constantine's eyes eat you up.
He watches with hunger as you kneel there, your lacy, black bra the only thing that covers your chest, which is heaving with the nervous and aroused breaths you take.
"I..." You try to think of something smart-assed to say, but end up short.
The truth was, you started wearing such lacy and tempting things beneath your clothes soon after you started working for him. You know why.
You know that you wanted to be ready, just in case...
And now here you are, all blush and embarrassment, tear stained cheeks and anger for being brought to this, laid almost bare in front of him. This man you have claimed to his own face to dislike. You feel such a fool as yourself probably deserves to be treated as such as he pull your chain nearer to him.
"Don't be so pathetic, puppy..." He gives another yank. "I think you'll find if you're a good doggy for me I might just give you a treat."
You glare at him as you sit so perfectly between his legs. You can see the huge bulge pressed up against his black suit pants, and you shift your thighs uncomfortably as you realize how badly you want to take him into your mouth. When your big eyes look up at him, lashes batting and confused, Constantine smirks.
"You don't have to hold yourself back, go ahead, take it out." And despite yourself, your hands are moving to the zipper and buttons of his pants, so slowly.
You let Constantine's cock take over your view, flopping out of his pants and easily into your hands. You're tired of fighting it. The ache deep in your stomach and between your thighs has gotten too persistent to ignore, and now here you are, leashed and stroking your boss's cock.
You know how much he's enjoying this, beyond even just the pleasure you're feeding him right now with your hand. He likes this feeling of domination over you, likes seeing you finally let go. You can't help but feel like this is where he thinks you belong. Beneath him and doing what you're told.
"That's it..." He sighs, leaning his head back ad your hand warms his cock for him. Even just the smell of it from how close you are, is filling your pretty little head and driving you mad.
You bite your lip and look up to him, he's loosening his tie and pulls your leash again, leading you even further to do what he wants. Your mouth waters as you think about putting something as big as his cock in it. You don't even know if you could fit it all, to be honest...
You hear him let out a small moan, obviously not wanting to do so. And as he does, you realize he needs this, this release, just as much as you do. You may be the one leashed and collared, but he's the one who's needing his cock touched so badly right now.
You bring the tip to your pouty mouth, and Constantine's warm brown eyes look down at you. You look into them sweetly and tease him with your tongue. He seems to be responding well, until goes on too long, and he reached a hand up and takes it behind your head.
"I can't wait that long, puppy." His voice is filled with need, and as he pressed on the back of your head, you can't help but open up, taking his cock into your mouth.
What really surprised you was how deep he pushes you, taking in way more than you thought possible and still having more left over. You choke for a moment, and it's clear Constantine likes hearing it. He continues to bob your head for you, his grip tightening and getting rougher just to hear your muffled cries. You feel the tears welling up again, this time involuntarily, caused by how rough he's fucking your throat and face. You grip his thighs, hands against his pants, and look up at him like the pretty princess you are, being all used up by such a wicked man as him.
"God, you've got such a cute face when you take my cock like that..." He groans out, head falling back once more as he loses himself in you for a moment.
You feel how tight he has you pulled by your leash, and you know you couldn't stop if you wanted to. He has you so perfectly trapped right now, and somehow being so restrained makes your pussy even wetter. You had no idea you needed to be tamed like this.
Suddenly, he pulls your head violently from his cock, spit trailing and eyes blinking out a few more tears. You look up at him with your big wet puppy dog eyes, trying to catch your breath and stop from choking on your own spit that's accumulated.
"Alright, princess," he starts with a heavy breath of his own, pulling your lead and your hair as he moves you up on to the bed with him. "I want to see what else you can do."
Constantine perfectly places you on top of him, his cock underneath your pussy, your thin piece of underwear being the only thing stopping him from slipping inside of you.
He's kept most of his clothes on, and somehow it makes you feel even more degraded knowing that he doesn't even feel the need to get that naked and open to you. It feels quick, it feels easy, it feels like fucking a stranger in a seedy little hotel room. You adore it...
You don't even have to be told, your mind is taken over by your own needs, and you begin to rub your soaking pussy against his solid cock. Constantine smiles and seems to be praising you for your good slut abilities.
"Such a good whore for me..." He whispers, grabbing your hips and rocking you into him in just the right way.
You're so much smaller on his frame as you needily grind yourself into him. He seems so much bigger, and the fact that he's so much older than you, so much more mature, adds to the fact that you feel humiliated and used by him. You're sure he feels the same, and enjoys seeing your young little body using herself up on his cock. You can tell by the way he's looking at you right now, like a hungry wolf waiting for the perfect moment to slaughter the poor little lamb.
"Move them to the side..." He says with a husky breath, not even trying to be kind or nice in asking.
"Y-yes..." You muster out, and reach down, moving your panties out of the way to expose your wet little slit.
Constantine easily lifts you up, and in one solid motion, not waiting to let you acclimatize to such a large cock. You cry out, loud and long, and he cuts it off with a quick pull of the collar, that choking feeling back and the pain and domination mixing with the pleasure of being so perfectly full. You let out a few choked noises as he grinds you in as deep as humanly possible.
Your mind reels from how much has been taken from you already tonight, and a small bit of fear settles in you as you wonder what you've gotten yourself into. How aggressive could he possibly be? You have no idea, but right now, despite being on top, you've never felt so inferior to Constantine, and with the way he's cruelly enjoying your pain, you shudder.
He only let's you remain still like this for a moment, obviously admiring his handy work on you. Soon enough, he's quickly lifted you again, and slammed himself back into you. You feel as if you may break into two, his cock splitting you so deeply. He continues this, hitting the deepest parts of you with such pleasurable pain that you pant out, breaths shaking and mixing with your cries. Your cheeks are stained with your mascara as more salty tears find their release and you begin to wonder where a fucking like this was all your life.
"I love seeing you so sloppy and your perfect little make up your work so hard on completely fucked like this." You hear Constantine say as he continues to use your body however he likes, fucking you harder and faster as he goes.
One of his hands finds your clit, rubbing circles that cause you to double over into him, your hands gripping his white button down and tie, face so close to his now.
"A good whore doesn't come out of the bedroom without a mess on her face." He whispers to you, so close now, he can see all the pain and desperation, all the need and pleasure on your face as your mind is completely fogged.
You keep letting him take you, slowly becoming more and more malleable in his hands, becoming a moaning little mess of a girl that is being fucked on his cock, making a mess of that as well as you get wetter and wetter, his hand bringing you closer with every stroke against your swollen and needy clit.
All you can do is close your eyes and lose yourself on him. You feel yourself edging closer and closer, and your lip trembles, your teeth finding it and biting to keep yourself from cumming to fast, but it's no use.
"F-fuck...I'm going to..." You can't stop the whisper that comes, and you begin to unwind.
You feel him stop suddenly, and then laugh.
"I'm not doing all the work, princess." He says, and leans back, putting both his hands behind his head, one still holding your leash of course.
"Wh-what?" You blink, breathing trying to regulate, looking up at him like a lost little puppy.
"That's right, I wanna see you work yourself on me. It's time you do some of the work if you want to cum, that is." His stupid, mean, cocky face tells you there's no getting out of this, but your lip pouts anyways.
"Hey! That's not fair, I was so close..." You see that it doesn't matter what you say, and his accompanying laugh doesn't make you feel much better anyways.
Your aching and throbbing cunt gets the better of the situation, and you put aside your stubborn nature for the prize of more friction.
You lean up, one hand out stretched as far as it goes, keeping your balance on Constantine's chest. Your hips rock, slowly, then picking up speed and losing awkwardness in favor of deeper thrusts of his cock into you. You begin to moan, finally finding the ultimate pleasure you were missing, free hand moving to your clit once more and giving the needed attention.
"Don't you dare cum without asking me, puppy." Constantine has sat up a bit, so he can pull you closer and say this while looking directly into your eyes. His intensity let's know their will be punishments if you don't do as he commands. You nod your head, willing to do anything right now.
You continue on, fucking yourself perfectly, and feeling your pussy tighten on it's own around him. He's harder than ever, his hips bucking into a bit despite saying you needed to get your own cum from his cock.
"I love seeing you work so hard for it." He whispers, his hand reaching out and wrapping around your neck, moving your head to keep eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and relish in the pleasure.
"Constantine, please, I need to cum..." You whisper out, eyes pleading and messy with running mascara.
"You'll have to do better than that. I need you to beg like the good dog you are." He responds with a wicked grin, eating up all of your desperation with glee.
"Oh god, please, I can't keep this up," you try to get out of it, but his grip on your throat tightens.
"I decide when you cum. Get that through your pretty little head, princess." He scoffs.
"Fine," you cry as he digs his cock deeper right where you need it.
"I'm begging you, please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll say anything, just let me cum..." The words come out whiney, and breathy, and fast, need building beyond what you ever thought, your hand having to take breaks on your clit, knowing if you don't you'll fall over the edge.
"Anything?" Constantine replies, and you have a bad feeling about the look on his face.
"A-anything..." You whimper out, grinding relentlessly like the needy little bitch you are.
"Fine." he licks his teeth. "Bark like a dog for me, and I'll let you cum."
You look at him stunned for a moment, not wanting to do something so humiliating, cheeks burning hotter than they already are.
"You're kidding..." He stops fucking you and tightens his grip on your throat further, choking out the second word, he doesn't need to say that he's not.
You feel so close, and you need this so bad, but you have never felt so degraded...
Moments pass, and the loss of friction and the need for more builds.
You hold your breath, trying not even to breathe right now, trying not even to give him anything after he's taken so much from you tonight.
When you do breath, you feel utterly embarrassed about what comes out.
A whimper, then a bark. From the look on his face, you know it's not enough. You continue, your bark growing louder and louder until you're desperately crying it out. When you look back, he's laughing at you, and you feel like a school girl again, getting bullied. Somehow, that makes the need grow even more.
"Alright, alright," he says between laughs. "You can cum..."
And then, it's you that holds him down, your muscles tighten and Constantine let's you take him for the first time tonight however you want. You get the power right now, you've earned it after what he's put you through, and he freely let's you fuck him and use his cock however you need. And you do, and you feel yourself spilling, spilling, spilling...
You release on him, and he tells praises you as you do, your walls tightening and bringing him to his own release. You feel his cum, hot and sticky, filling you up more and more with every stroke.
"God, you're so pretty when you take what you want. What a pretty little puppy you are..." He breathes, keeping up with an endless amount of praise that you so desperately needed as you finish, coming down slowly from everything and finally resting, exhausted on his chest, cock still inside you, twitching.
You two say nothing for a long time, laying just like that, and to your surprise, sleep gets the better of you, and you find Constantine's arms wrapping around you to keep you from falling off his chest, and cock. You drift off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep, you've had since starting this job. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did enjoy this more than you thought, but you'd never let him know that.
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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months
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The Girl Next Door ~ Part 1
A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine.
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Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… (I had to write something sweet for my mental health y'all 😆) Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮
You are the very archetype of The Girl Next Door. Well, literally. John Constantine lives in 202, and you in 204. You share a wall, and occasionally, he sort of smiles at you when you meet in the hall.
Like tonight, as your arms are full of groceries, returning home after work. You don’t know what he does exactly, but you assume it’s the same for him, though he is only clutching a brown bag that very poorly disguises a bottle of scotch.
“Hi, John,” you say brightly over a proud sprig of celery sticking out of your bag. It’s almost a running joke between the two of you, your sunny brightness aimed at him like a weapon.
There’s a long pause, like always, before he finally answers reluctantly in his deep monotone, “Hi, y/n. Bye, y/n.”
Before you can engage him any further he disappears into his apartment, closing the door hard behind him, the slam in the air like an exclamation point. You stare for a moment at the space where he’d just been, tall, handsome, his suit rumpled, that tie half undone around his neck. He looked like he’d had a rough day, whatever he does.
He dresses like a professional something, but imagining that man as a door to door salesman with his attitude is laughable, and so is the thought of him working amicably in an office setting.
You go inside and put away your groceries, then spread out what you need to make dinner. It’s Friday night, and you’ve had a long week too. You are making comfort food—it’s kind of a shame to eat it alone.
Half an hour later, while the sauce simmers, you find you just can’t stop thinking about that man next door. He seems lonely, every time you see him. There is something about him that just makes you want to wrap him up in a hug.
He’d probably push you off if you tried, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a hug.
The thing is…you have this thing. He pretends like you annoy him, but sometimes in the hall, or down in the lobby when you’re collecting your mail, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking. And the look on his face is never exactly lecherous, like you’re used to with most men who eye-fuck you on the street. His look is more…just…lost, and it tugs at your heartstrings.
You’re sure he’ll say no, but your feet seem to carry you of their own accord, when you find yourself at his door, knocking loudly.
Some time passes and you hear him grumbling on the other side before he jerks open the portal just a crack. “Yeah?”
“I’m making my Nonna’s meatballs and marinara for dinner.”
“Good for you?”
“From scratch.”
“Sounds time consuming.”
“Want to join me?”
There is a very long pause, in which he just looks at you. You can tell he’s at least one drink in already; you smell the fumes on his breath. And maybe it’s stupid, and you’re asking for trouble you don’t need, but the thought that that will be this man’s only dinner squeezes your heart.
Finally, he answers with a question. “Why?”
“Why not?”
This, amusingly, seems to actually flummox him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the end he narrows his eyes at you, (those lovely brown eyes, you can’t help but notice), like you’re trying to trick him into something truly heinous.
It’s…kind of funny, truth be told, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. “Come on. I know you can smell it.” Your door is wide open.
“Maybe I don’t like Italian food.”
“Everyone likes Italian food.”
“Maybe you’re a terrible cook.”
“Only one way to find out.”
He actually growls a little, which for some reason gives you a thrill to the base of your spine.  
You really need to get back to stir the sauce. You didn’t anticipate getting this far in the conversation (argument?) with him, honestly.
“Well, door’s open,” you tell him, turning to go. You throw one last little come-hither look over your shoulder, to find he is definitely staring at your ass. Or, glaring, more like.
Maybe you have a screw loose, but you find this adorable.
You go back to your sauce, and lose yourself in the preparation of the other ingredients, watching the pasta to make sure it doesn’t boil over, checking that the meatballs aren’t burning. (Your oven is a dinosaur from the 1970s, and sometimes the temp spikes for no reason).
You are about to drain the pasta, when you find a tall, rumpled man standing beside your rickety thrift store table, looking a bit confused as to how he’d ended up there. He looks so big in your shoebox of an apartment, and if you’re being honest, maybe there’s a little bit of lust tied up with your desire to mother this man.
You offer him a welcoming smile, and for a moment, you swear he looks like he’s drowning.
“Glad you could make it,” you say somewhat teasingly.
“Can I…help?” He says the last word like it’s a completely alien thing to him.
“I’ve pretty much got it under control…” you say, which is mostly true. You peruse the sparse offerings of your 3 slot wine rack, picking a $6 bottle of Chilean red blend. “Want to open this?” The face he makes looking down at the decidedly weaker-than-whiskey beverage is almost comical, but he takes the corkscrew from you as you transfer the meal to serving bowls and put glasses of water on the table.
He removes his suit jacket at the table, rolling his sleeves up over muscular forearms that are, if you’re being honest, totally distracting. After you sit down you fill your plates, and the first few minutes of the meal goes by in semi-awkward silence.
Surprisingly, it’s John who speaks first. “This is really good,” he admits begrudgingly, and you utterly fail to damper your I-told-you-so smile.
“Thanks.”
You make halting small talk. You get the feeling he doesn’t chat much with anyone, of his own free will. When you ask him how his week was, his simple answer is, “Hell.”
You have no idea he’s being literal.
You ask him what he does, and he tells you he’s a sort of private detective, and he can’t really talk about it. He asks what you do, more to get the conversation off of him than anything. You let it go, for now, telling him that you’re a receptionist at an office building for a mega corporation downtown.
“Fitting,” he grumbles, you think because of your innate cheerfulness.
You feel the urge to tell him that half the time it’s just a thing you wear like armor—but you don’t know each other that well yet.
As you loosen up a little with food and more wine, he slowly asks more questions about you, where you’re from, what do you do in your free time, and maybe it’s stupid, but you feel like he’s actually kind of interested in your answers.
You enlist him to help you with the dishes, and as you stand together at the sink you bump him playfully with your hip. He peers down at you, his dark hair in his eyes. He is so tall, and there is a hint of a smile on his lips now. For him, it’s like a full-on toothy grin, and it doesn’t fail to quicken your heart in your chest.
Constantine can’t help but feel…puzzled, by you. Yes, you’re his cute neighbor, who teasingly likes to hail him in the hallway. And maybe he does look forward to the way your eyes sparkle, when he begrudgingly acknowledges you before retreating to the safety of the quiet solitude of his apartment. But you are so…nice. He can just tell, and he has no idea what a girl like you might want with a degenerate demon hunter like him. There are enough assholes in L.A. who would be happy to take you out. Why would you waste your time chasing him down?
And there is that smaller nagging voice in the back of his head. You are damned, and you don’t deserve her.
Fuck if it doesn’t make him want to touch you even more.
Later, he will look back on this as a moment of weakness. You, looking up at him with your big eyes, like you're old friends. You made him feel, for a fleeting moment, like he wasn't some doomed asshole with nothing to live for. Like he was an actual person. A man who could matter, to someone. Maybe even to you.
When you splash him with a flick of dishwater after he insults your favorite TV show he narrows his eyes down at you, and you get the fluttery feeling that he might like to eat you a moment before he cups your cheek in his big hand and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s everything you’d hoped for, even if you never actually expected it to really happen. Maybe the wine helped? Or maybe…he likes you? Luckily you get over your surprise, standing on tiptoe to meet him, looping your arms around his neck.
You yip with surprise when suddenly he lifts you to sit on the sink, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. “Was getting a crick in my neck…”
Your answering laugh is shaky at best. “Sorry.”
“Is this why you invited me over?”
“Sort of?”
He lifts an eyebrow at that, waiting for further explanation. You reach up to toy with his collar, tracing the line of his loosened tie, totally distracted by the shape of his collarbone and what’s bared of his neck. This man has a jawline that looks like it was sculpted from stone. There’s no shortage of beautiful people in L.A., of course, but you’ve never met anyone quite like him. He doesn’t seem vain, an oddity in this town, but underneath his rumpled suit this man definitely has the physique of a movie star. You try not to dwell on how odd it is, that he would choose to spend his Friday night with you.
“I mean, I’m definitely not complaining,” you offer with a sly little smile.
However, his answering expression is nothing less than stern.
“I’m warning you now, sweetheart. I’m not boyfriend material, and I’m not going to be your project.”
Even if both of those things may have crossed your mind, your thoughts are too hazy with lust from his lips on yours. Maybe he’s a grouch…but he’s a great kisser.
“Okay.”
“Good.”
He kisses you again, and you melt even more under his exacting touch. Those mitts for hands make you feel small, and you arch against him as they travel the ladder of your ribcage to your spine.
The wine was good, but you know you are mostly drunk on him.
Then he is lifting you again, like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the couch. You settle down into the worn vintage cushions and make-out like teenagers, all lips and teeth and pawing hands.
You’re the one who actually initiates something further, pulling off your shirt, and John blinks as he takes in the swathes of your bare skin. He glares at your lacy bra like it owes him money, and you can’t help but laugh breathily. You haven’t felt thishappy in a long time, truth be told.
“Something funny?” he asks, nipping at your neck. With a flick of his fingers your bra falls away, and your breasts are in his hands, and you forget how to speak intelligibly. With his lips on your nipples you manage to loosen his tie without strangling him, unbuttoning his shirt with an increasing desperation. You sigh when at last the bare skin of your torsos is pressed together, his weight pressing you down into the couch.
It occurs to you, how small your couch is, and this man is definitely over six feet tall. “Would you prefer…the bed?” you ask between kisses.
“Up to you.”
You nod, but find you can’t really stop kissing him long enough to move. You can feel the impressive length of him through his pants and yours, aligned with your center and you dry grind, thinking even that is wonderful. He, however, lets out a frustrated growl, and pulls you to your feet again.
Dizzy with desire, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom, and you make it there eventually between kisses and shedding the rest of your clothing. His thick fingers between your legs are a marvel. “So fucking wet for me,” he groans, and it’s too embarrassing to admit, but sometimes after seeing him in the hallway you’ve fantasized about something like this going down, and it always leaves you soaked.
“I…like you,” you admit, moaning as a second finger finds its way inside you, his thumb circling your clit.
“I still don’t get that,” he admits, but kisses you hard before you really have a chance to answer. It would be a little too crazy, to tell him right now that you’ve always just felt pulled towards him, like the Universe was giving you a nudge any time you saw him. He’d laugh at you, or he’d leave, and either of those at this point would be unbearable.
You are close already under his masterful touch, and you whine even as you flex your hips, all your muscles tightening in anticipation.
“Don’t make me cum yet,” you beg. “I want you.”
He groans in response to that, desperately pawing through the pockets of his pants on the floor for a condom. You watch with stars in your eyes, propped on your elbows as he rips open the packet and rolls it on that impressive length, your lip between your teeth. You feel empty while looking at him like this, longing to be filled to the brim.
There is a moment of raw eye contact between you that sears your soul, as he pulls you to the edge of the bed with those large hands on your thighs. For a fleeting second he looks almost vulnerable. It’s there and gone like a ripple in a pool, then his thick tip is at your entrance, and he is slowly pushing himself inside you.
It’s better than you ever dreamed, and you arch against him, moaning as he works inside.
“Fuck you are tight,” he pants in your ear, your walls clenching around him, seeming to fight him even as they crave the relief of his big cock stretching you out. You breathe deeply, easing him in. When at last he bottoms out inside you, your head rocks back behind your shoulders, blissed out.
“God, you feel good.”
This man actually snorts at the comment, though his voice is pure gravel, rough with need. “He wouldn't appreciate you saying it about me.”
Your laugh is half moan. 
“What, are you on a first name basis?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
You're not sure what to make of that, and you're too cock drunk to even begin to reason it out.
He can tell you're a nice girl. Or at least, that's his perception of you. So he doesn’t bend you at impossible angles or whisper filthy things in your ear. Really, there's no time for it. Just pure vanilla missionary in your sweet little snatch is more than enough to slake his need tonight. He fucks you on your back, his thumb on your clit as he glides in and out of your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips.
Your pleasure builds in the cradle of your hips, wound so tight you feel like you'll either die, or fly. Usually...alright, it's never like this for you the first time with someone. There's always fumbling, and awkwardness, and half the time, if you're honest, a faked orgasm because you're too shy or too embarrassed to ask for what you really need from a new partner, afraid he’ll think you’re too much trouble. 
Well, that is not what is happening tonight. Tonight, John is taking care of you, and you can hardly believe your luck. 
“You gonna cum for me, baby?”
“Yeah.” Your reply is breathy, and you almost laugh just for the pure, unexpected joy you feel in that moment. “Oh, John...” Your ability to say real words escapes you as your body erupts with scintillating pleasure spreading through your loins. You actually scream, and the fierce clench of your cunt around him brings him too. He loses himself with a groan, his face buried in the curve of your shoulder as he shudders against you.
Afterwards, you are laying against his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. You don't know it, but this is not something John Constantine usually does. Snuggling. But you are sweet and soft in his arms, and he can't quite bring himself to vacate the premises just yet. In fact, he's so comfortable that he dozes, and you follow close behind him.
In the middle of the night you wake to kisses on your neck and caresses down your curvy side. You sigh, arching into him. You feel his manhood at the seam of your buttocks, his thick head kissing your hole.
“Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers with a shuddering sigh, rolling over to reach for his pants again. How many condoms did he bring? The fact that he's not careless with you, even in the sleepy haze of the early morning second round, is incredibly endearing to you. How many times have you had to insist, and been made to feel like an uncool bitch for not wanting to risk pregnancy or disease in the heat of the moment?
Maybe it's utterly insane, but you're half in love already as he hauls you on top of him, his cock freshly capped with a new Trojan Magnum.
You are still drenched from earlier, and it's no problem to impale yourself upon him.
In the blue dark of early morning your eyes meet his, and again you sense that fleeting vulnerability before he distracts you with that clever fucking thumb finding your sensitive bud. He works you just right as you ride his beautiful dick with your back arched taut as a bow, his other hand toying with your nipple. It makes you cum in record time, so quickly it's almost embarrassing, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Within a minute he's followed along with you, his big hands digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he reaches his own release. Your name on his lips raises gooseflesh all over your body, as though your lovemaking has invoked something powerful, something binding.
You collapse against his chest, and the both of you nearly fall asleep again, with him still inside you. 
“Let me get this thing off,” he requests gently, and with a plaintive little groan you roll off of him, curling in at his side. He knots the condom before throwing it in the general direction of the bin. You are both too tired to care if it actually hit home. 
Again, you snuggle close and the two of you doze tangled together until morning light streams through the window. 
You wake to kisses on your forehead this time. It's a miracle you rouse. You're a heavy sleeper—and he worked you out. 
“I have to go, honey.” 
“Want breakfast?” you murmur, half asleep.
“Yeah, but I can’t. Rain check?”
“Okay.”
Through half lidded eyes you watch as he gets dressed, half way, at least. A good portion of his clothes are still strewn around the living room.
My god, what a beautiful specimen of manhood you bagged last night. Nonna would be proud. She was an appreciator of male beauty, and if you told her that her special recipe had gotten you the best sex of your life with the handsome boy next door she would have cackled with delight.
“See you soon?” you dare ask as he buttons his pants. 
“Yeah,” he agrees, after a pause, bending down to kiss you one more time, with tongue this round. 
“Careful mister, or you'll start round three.”
“Jesus, woman,” he teases with that heartbreaking almost-smile. “You've drained me dry.” 
You look him over appraisingly.
“Doubt it.” 
He huffs with laughter, shaking his head. 
“Bye, y/n.”
You sigh. 
“Bye, John.”
With a surprisingly heavy heart, you watch the best lay of your life slip out the door. You really hope you'll get to do this again, and not just go back to awkward acknowledgements in the hallway.
***
Maybe John Constantine had told you he’s not boyfriend material.
But earlier that day, while he was having a smoke out on the sidewalk, he found himself looking over at the wares of a flower vendor and wondering if you would like them. He didn’t buy any, of course.
He wasn’t a total sap.
But it’s possible as he scales the stairs to his apartment, there’s a lightness in his heart as he thinks of you, and the possibility of seeing you in the hallway.
That's when he finds your door ajar, and your apartment ransacked, and a note in red ink on the table addressed to him.
If you want to see your girlfriend alive again, come to this address.
It’s a place in L.A. that’s deep in vampire territory, and something black and heavy weighs like a stone in the pit of John’s stomach. He’d deported a few big players of the local coven not too long ago, and he’d figured the Master would want revenge, but this?
Fucking diabolical—and just their style.
Goddamn vampires.
Without a moment to lose, he goes to his apartment to get his kit, praying he’s not too late to save you.  
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mlmxreader · 1 month
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Quizzical | John Constantine x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ Hi, I hope it's not too late to request John Constantine with the prompt "It must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny" of your list? ❞
: ̗̀➛ However he does it is a mystery, but John always finds a way to surprise you.
: ̗̀➛ swearing, VERY VERY mild sex references
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
Stretching out on your sofa, John made himself more than at home; his shoes were chucked aside somewhere between the fireplace and the sofa, and his coat had long been tossed to the floor somewhere he didn’t actually care to look.
His tie was completely undone, sitting open against his off-white shirt as he watched you go about picking his things up and putting them away properly; he smiled, tilting his head to the side and watching you curiously.
Of all the beings in the world that he had been with, John kept finding himself coming back to you every single time; he thought at first that maybe it was just the overnight stays, but he soon pushed that aside when he realised that it was something else.
No, you were different. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t pry, or that you understood almost completely what it was like for him; maybe it was just the fact that you were more open and more accepting and welcoming of him than anybody else in the world.
He put his feet up, relaxing and closing his eyes as he yawned softly; a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth for just a moment too long that you noticed, smacking his ankle to grab his attention.
“Oi! If you’re gonna sit there like bloody King Shit of Dung Manner, least you could do is go and make a fuckin’ butty, would ya?”
John grinned, spreading his legs so that one slipped off of the sofa, giving you more than enough room to sit between his legs as he looked you up and down eagerly. “Now why would I do that, eh?”
You wanted to roll your eyes and to chastise him for not doing anything for you while you were expected to clean up after him, but you could only sigh as you raked a hand down your face and shrugged. “Maybe because I have to put up with Bruce Wayne every fucking day?”
“You wanted the job,” he pointed out. “If you didn’t wanna be his assistant, you wouldn’t’ve taken the job. You said so yourself that you was happy enough working as his social whatever manager.”
“Social media manager,” you huffed. “And I was! I really was! But the money is better, and the hours are… less demanding.”
“So don’t complain,” John chuckled, lying back with a smug hum. “I might be your boyfriend, but I’m not your fuckin’ job advisor.”
You paused, stunned for a moment as you looked at him quizzically; he had never used that word before, and you were almost certain that being your actual boyfriend was not something that he would have ever wanted.
He was John Constantine, for crying out loud - he didn’t do relationships. But when you didn’t answer for far too long for his comfort, he raised a brow, looking at you like he was expecting you to say something and he was hooked on every little noise you would make until you spoke.
“What?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Cat your bleeding tongue?”
You shook your head, trying to come to your senses as you sighed and attempted to put the words completely together for once. “No, just… you never said that you were my boyfriend before… and I never thought that’s what you… what you wanted.”
John didn’t seem phased as he gestured at the room around him. “Well, what’d you call the bloke who sleeps with you nearly every night, constantly calls, and is always hanging around?”
“I… I dunno,” you whispered softly. “I guess I just never… never really thought about it because you didn’t bring it up or nothing…”
He hummed, squirming to sit upright before leaning back slightly and resting on his arm. “Well, we’re talking about it now, ain’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “Is that… is that what you want? To be my boyfriend, I mean, is that what you want?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it.”
You nodded back, chewing at the inside of your lip. “So it’s settled, then… now, go make me a sandwich, yeah?”
John rolled his eyes as he moved to get off of the sofa, but he paused to quickly press a soft kiss to your lips before he moved away; you almost missed his presence when he wandered into the kitchen, but you couldn’t deny that there was something… off about the way he kissed you.
It wasn’t hungry and harsh like it usually was, and it wasn’t filled with heat and neediness like normal. It was sweet and soft, and chaste and unexpecting.
You chewed at the inside of your lip, thinking about what it could have possibly meant; of course, you knew that you would probably have to let Bruce down from now on, as he often took you with him as his plus one to events and galas and such - but now you would probably have to tell him that you couldn’t do that, as you were with John and you didn’t want him to think that you and Bruce were a couple. 
“Alright,” John announced as he sauntered back in, wiping his hands on his shirt. “I got the cheese on toast going at the moment, I’ll chuck some jam on it once it’s done.”
You hummed as you looked at him, almost shocked. “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”
“You alright?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he came to sit beside you. 
“Just thinking,” you told him softly, dismissively shaking your head. “Y’know, I’m probably gonna have to tell Bruce, I mean-”
“You’ve been going out with him to all that fancy shit for yonks and I’ve never gotten jealous before,” he pointed out. “Don’t intend to, either. Trust me, it must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny - and it must be magic if Bruce Wayne ever thinks he’s gonna get in your trousers.”
You laughed quite loudly, playfully shoving him. “You’re an ass!”
“Meh,” he slung his arm around your shoulders. “You love me.”
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fics-not-tragedies · 4 months
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January 2024 Music Prompts: Day 1
Own My Mind ♫ Måneskin
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Own My Mind ♫ Måneskin x John Constantine
I'm prayin' at your altar if you know what I mean.
One moonlit evening, Constantine found himself in the centre of a web of dark magic. A malevolent force, whose origins were hidden in the whispers of the underworld, had unleashed a demonic presence on the unsuspecting city. The streets echoed with the eerie laughter of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.
Amidst the chaos, Constantine discovered an ancient altar, its malevolence penetrating the very foundations of the city. The air crackled with malevolent energy as he confronted the demonic force that sought to devour the soul of the metropolis.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Constantine murmured, a defiant challenge to the malevolent entity that lurked in the supernatural realms.
As he recited ancient incantations and wielded a weapon forged from celestial steel, Constantine sensed a mysterious presence — an ethereal force drawn to the fervour of his quest. Unseen eyes watched him from the shadows, mesmerised by the determination and courage emanating from the demon hunter.
With each incantation, Constantine's surroundings seemed to quake with an otherworldly energy. The demonic laughter died away and was replaced by an eerie silence, as if the air held its breath in anticipation of the impending clash between light and shadow.
At the heart of the spiritual battlefield, Constantine's gaze caught sight of a figure cloaked in shadow — a ghostly presence lingering at the edge of the supernatural fray. The being, drawn by the resonance of the demon hunter's fervent prayers, watched him with an intensity that reflected a strange fascination.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Constantine repeated, the words a rhythmic chant that reverberated through the metaphysical realms.
As the incantations intensified, the shadows parted, revealing the ghostly entity that had been drawn to Constantine's request. A subtle change occurred — a dance of cosmic energies that blurred the line between hunter and hunted.
Constantine, his senses attuned to the supernatural currents, met the enigmatic gaze of the spectral being. The air quivered with unspoken understanding — a connection that transcended the dichotomy of good and evil. In that suspended moment, the demon hunter and the spectral being found themselves connected by a cosmic thread woven from the essence of the mystical battlefield.
The demon, sensing the shift in the balance of power, backed away from the combined force opposing it. The city, once caught in the clutches of evil, heaved a sigh of relief as the supernatural storm subsided. Constantine took one last look at the ghostly creature with a weary but victorious expression on his face.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" he uttered once more, this time directed at the enigmatic presence that hovered in the aftermath of the battle. “And tell boss Constantine said ‘hi’, you fuck” Constantine added, showing a middle finger to the dark forces who lurked around him.
The city, freed from the clutches of demonic influence, attained a new serenity. Constantine, the demon hunter, and the spectral being, an enigma woven into the fabric of the supernatural, shared a moment of unity — a testament to the complexity of the spiritual battlefield and the unspoken connections that transcend the realms of light and shadow.
After the supernatural storm, as the city heaved a sigh of relief, Constantine and the spectral being stood face to face. The air crackled with lingering energy and their eyes met in a silent exchange of gratitude and appreciation. Without words, a magnetic pull drew them closer together until their lips met in a passionate kiss.
“You saved the altar” the being murmured against his lips, placing her hands on his chest.
“It was bombed once… and I don’t have any heavy arms on me.”
“That’s good, Constantine” she touched his lips gently, tracing them with her fingers before kissing him again.
“I’m prayin’ at your altar…” he breathed, moving his lips to the being’s neck, gently squeezing her hips and pushing her closer to the altar, “if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I sure know what you mean, John Constantine.”
The boundaries between the hunter and the mystical being blurred, and in this unspoken union the city witnessed a union that overcame the dichotomy of good and evil. The night, once shrouded in malice, gave way to the dawn of a city reborn, where prayers and mysteries lingered in the air like the echo of an ancient hymn, and the kiss between Constantine and the spectral being came to symbolise a love that transcended the boundaries of the constant fight between good and evil and the balance he kept willing to restore.
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sentient-stove · 1 month
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“Over there is Drake, he’s with us because JL Light kept saying no to the teenage group so now they made him my and JLD’s problem. Also he kept trying to raise the dead. And kept succeeding.”
“It’s not my fault it’s so easy,” Drake muttered without looking away from his project. “And Batman wasn’t dead the last time. You bring back three people and suddenly everyone thinks you’re a budding necromancer. It shouldn’t be my fault I’m using the available resources for the best solution.”
Constantine somehow looked even more dead than Elle as he pointed to the teenager that had taken up residence on the counter, the rest of the space covered with no less than four laptops. “Do not see him as a role model. He broke reality that first time.”
Man, she already knew they were going to get along like a house on fire. Elle waved cheerfully at Drake. “Quack.” She said. Constantine just sighed and went for his lighter.
Drake looked at her in befuddlement. “Quack?”
“A drake is a duck yeah? So, quack.”
“I prefer the drakes being dragons route.” He said. “More mysterious and powerful.”
“Ah. Rawr then.” The lesser of the two options. Drake had clearly never met a true duck. Maybe Elle could sneak one in one of these days and introduce Drake to a better namesake.
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sleepingdead96 · 13 days
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Ambassador Danny AU
Just a silly thing knocking around in my brain.
Batman halted in the door of the conference room, taking in the sight of a strange being lounging imperiously in his chair. His white hair seemed to defy gravity ever so gently and his green, glowing eyes—Jason’s eyes—stared back with none of the regard or fear so many people showed towards Batman. His tanned face was speckled with tiny stars that Batman had to actively resist becoming memorized by. The boy’s choice of covering was sheening armour that refracted the light through his chest-plate of black ice. The white sleet that sharpened his knuckles seemed perfectly capable of movement despite it encasing his hands in similar fashion to the chest-plate; glassy in it’s brutal edges and as hard as the sheets that form over the coldest of lakes. 
The watchtower had been invaded. Batman had questioned why the place was so cold when he’d arrived. Now he knew.
The only thing that kept Batman from immediately reacting might have—very much—had to do with how young he looked. A boy in the second half of his teens.
And the fact that several other Justice League members were at Batman’s back as he strolled further into the room, watching the boy warily.
The boy’s eyes were unconcerned as he watched the Justice League file in. Worryingly so. Who was he that he would be so unfazed, how powerful? Or was it faith he wouldn’t be harmed, taking advantage of the Justice League’s strong morals?
The teen had commandeered the chair with all the authority of a king and the confidence of one assured of their own position. He sprawled across it. The chairs were all identical of practical, unassuming make, but this boy made it look like his throne as he leaned heavily on one side and stretched one leg way on the other. A hand was extended to dangle off one chair-arm and he had a knee braced up, showing an armoured shin protecting his black, sturdy, cargo-like pants and iced boots that jagged treacherously upwards.
The boy smirked. “Took you long enough. I was getting bored.”
Batman resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his already protected ears from the unearthly static and screeching glaciers that came from the boy’s mouth. He noticed Superman flinch and his face grimace.
“Who are you?” Batman growled. This boy was obviously inhuman. He was also an unknown. Batman would be foolish to underestimate someone who had somehow infiltrated the watchtower without being seen or setting off any alerts. Who exuded too much confidence, as if the entire world was at his fingertips.
Attacking took the back-burner in favour of garnering information in such a concerning situation.
“You may address me as. . .” He contemplated a bit too much for Batman to believe whatever he would give them would be his true name. “Danny.”
“. . .Danny.” 
The name was so. . .normal.
“How did you get here?” Wonder Woman asked with hints of warning and aggression.
The boy smiled. He had fangs. Too many sharp teeth. He didn’t answer and was revelling in their ignorance.
“What are you doing here?” Superman asked. It said something about Danny’s energy that even superman was being cautious about approaching.
“Waiting for you.” He smirked.
“Why?” Batman pushed as much threat and intimidation into his stance and words as he could. He usually didn’t have to think about it. “What do you want?”
Danny chuckled and a shiver ran up Batman’s spine. Goosebumps formed even through the protective layers that shielded him from the cold.
“Why don’t you sit?” The words should have been innocent. They felt like a trap. “You’ve gathered for a meeting, haven’t you?” 
The league members didn’t move. Danny sighed.
“Fine, fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes and Batman was eerily reminded of how much the adolescent exasperation reminded him of his own children. Danny leaned off the chair arm to lean an elbow on the table instead, propping his chin up. He was all teeth. “The Infinite Realms wishes for peace. I’ve come to investigate the possibility of a treaty on behalf of the High King.”
<><><><>
“THERE’S A DENIZEN OF THE INFINITE REALMS IN THE WATCHTOWER??!!!”
Batman held the phone away from his face at Constantine’s uncharacteristic display of panic. It did not bode well and it settled uncomfortably in his bones.
He grunted in affirmation.
Constantine swore up and down enough to fill Alfred’s swear jar ten times over. “What do they want?! What did you say to them!? Ohhhh, bloody ****! You’ve already antagonized them haven’t you?!”
“No.” Batman ground out.
Constantine was quiet. Several seconds ticked by.
“. . .WELL?!”
“He claims the High King wants to negotiate for peace.”
There was silence on the other end. Batman usually preferred it when Constantine was quiet, but this was thick and seemed to claw out of the phone to infect the watchtower. It muffled the noises and beeps and drowned out the presence of the other league members who had stepped out of the conference room with him.
Then there was a great, controlled release of wavery air. When Constantine spoke, it was more serious than Batman ever remembered hearing him.
“Okay, okay.” Constantine mumbled to himself. “Listen closely, Bats, and repeat everything, and I mean everything, to your circus clowns.”
Superman cleared his throat. “We’re here.”
“YOU LEFT THE AMBASSADOR ALONE?!”
“Of course not! Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are monitoring him.” Batman said. 
Constantine grumble-sighed. “Good.” He mumbled. “Two of the competent ones. I don’t trust Bats not to **** this up and get us all killed.”
“What now?” Flash said.
Batman was a little offended. “Constan—“
“NO!” He yelled vehemently. He sounded a little manic. “Batsy, you have the emotional intelligence of a wet paper bag, a sad, trampled, wet paper bag with so many holes that it can’t even be considered a bag anymore, you have the emotional intelligence of wet, paper scraps and the diplomacy of a feral hyena! Unless he addresses you first, Do. Not. Initiate! Do not open your mouth! I have no faith in you whatsoever!”
“I will n—“ Batman tried to growl again, but Constantine cut him off. Again!
“No!” Constantine reiterated oh, so eloquently. “Look.” He sighed. “Getting news of the newest High King since he defeated the last one has been near impossible. All Deadman will tell me is that he’s better than the last guy and we are incredibly lucky our entire dimension wasn’t wiped out after that stunt the American government pulled with the Anti-ecto Acts.”
Batman saw some of the leaguers pale. He suddenly wasn’t feeling the best either.
“Anti-Ecto Acts?”
“Laws declaring their species non-sentient and illegal, I dealt with it, thing is, this is an extremely delicate situation.” He stressed. “We don’t know what kind of ruler he is, what little thing might set him off, and we cannot afford to set the High King off! Capiche?! It’s a good sign that he’s willing to negotiate peace, but he could change his mind. Some ghosts are very temperamental.”
“Ghosts.” Several of the leaguers repeated. Constantine let out an incredibly exasperated sound.
“Do you idiots know nothing?! Yes, ghosts! The Infinite Realms is the dimension between dimensions, the land of the dead and the never-born! They are incredibly powerful entities and many of them could level our planet easily! Whatever you do, DO NOT ask how they’ve died! It is highly taboo and you’ll get yourselves killed!” Constantine let out a stressed groan.
“I would come back and deal with this myself, but I am. . .occupied at the moment. Don’t try to negotiate without me! You lot will muck everything up! And seriously, DO NOT ASK HOW THEY’VE DIED! Keep the Ambassador happy until I can get there, convince him to stay! We might not have another chance like this, don’t annoy them, do not ignore them, and, just in general, don’t give the ambassador any reason to deliver anything negative to King Phantom and have him erase us all, got it?”
The Justice League exchanged several, stunned looks.
“Got it?”
Batman grunted.
“Good. And Bats.” Constantine added lowly. “If this fails, I am blaming you for the end of the world.”
Constantine ended the call and the phone beeped before drowning everyone in silence. The leaguers shared more looks.
“Now what?” Hal said.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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How these guys would react to having their face held…
Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.
He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.
He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.
‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.
‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.
You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.
‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.
He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.
He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.
Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.
So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.
‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’
Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.
‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.
In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.
Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.
Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.
So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.
‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.
To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.
Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.
Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.
His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.
‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.
Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.
Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.
For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.
‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.
‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.
John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.
Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’
‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.
‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.
The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.
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strangelysimian · 8 months
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DPxDC Prompt: Ghostly News Update
One day John Constantine finds a letter on the table in the House of Mystery addressed to Deadman. He calls for the ghost, and they open it together and are shocked to read the following message.
"Dear Mr. Deadman,
Since you reside primarily on Earth you most likely haven't heard the news. Pariah Dark has been defeated in one on one combat, and his title of king has been passed on. Long may reign the new King Phantom, Ruler of the Infinite Realms.
Unlike his predecessor, Phantom has no interest in conquest nor does he aim for more power. He is also quite fond of humans, and is even known to protect a small town in the United States of America, despite with the Anti-Ecto Laws the local government has passed (Claiming any being containing ectoplasm to be non-sentient thus has no rights. It is recommended you stay out of Illinois for this reason).
Keep up the good work in the Justice League Dark, and if you have any further questions feel free to call us at 1-xxx-xxx-xxxx."
The message is typed out, except for a hand written addition at the bottom.
"P.S. If you could get the JL to do something about those laws that would be great :)
-Phantom"
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thevoidstaredback · 24 days
Text
Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.
That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.
The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.
So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.
Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.
He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.
Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.
Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.
"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."
He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."
"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.
"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."
"At least you know your limits."
"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."
"It was."
"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."
Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"
"A few times," she blushed.
"Well, it needs to be said more!"
Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."
Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.
"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.
"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.
The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!
"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"
"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!
"An-an answer?"
"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."
They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!
Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.
"-even listening?"
Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.
Good job not panicking, Danny.
Part 1 Part 3
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karmavongrim · 3 months
Text
Dear Father fanfic idea
DC x DP crossover fanfiction
Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.
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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.
“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.
It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.
Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-
“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!
“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.
“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.
This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.
“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.
“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.
“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.
“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.
“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.
“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.
“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.
“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”
The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.
“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.
“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”
He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.
“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.
“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.
“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.
Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.
“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”
“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.
Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.
“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”
He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.
“Fucking shite!”
He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”
Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.
“Who did you call?”
He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.
“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.
“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”
Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.
“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.
The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.
“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.
“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.
Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.
“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.
Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.
“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.
He has arrived.
Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.
Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.
Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.
“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.
“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.
All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.
With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.
“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.
“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.
“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.
Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.
Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.
Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.
“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”
This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.
“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”
As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.
“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.
“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.
“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.
“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.
“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.
As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.
“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.
“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.
Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.
“H-huh, what did I miss?”
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97keanu · 6 months
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Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. Reader chooses to be the slayer she was always meant to be. Helen has laid dormant in your soul for most of your life, awakening in the past few nights after coming in contact with her true love, John Wick again. Reader decides she must find out what it truly means to just be herself. With the help of some friends, any monster is possible to slay.
Tags: major character death(s). Vampire!John Wick, Slayer!Constantine, Witch!Neo, ???!Ted, supernatural AU, Slayer!Reader, soul connection, reincarnation, blood/violence.
A/N: In this choice, reader finds what she was looking for.
Go back.
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"I am a Slayer, after all..." You say to Neo, and you feel the something that stirs with in you settle in such a way that you wonder if this is what she's always wanted.
"Are you sure? Once I begin the ritual, I can't undo it." You nod, and Neo sighs, grabbing the spare cigarette behind his ear and lighting it.
The end burns red and he breathes a long pull out.
"Alright, let's begin." He opens his spell book and starts.
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You lay in the center of the summoning circle Neo has drawn in white chalk on his concrete floor. It's cold, dirt and grit touch you wherever your skin makes contact with the floor. Your head sits uncomfortably on the hardness of it, and you wish Neo would hurry up.
He's currently annoiting sigils he's drawn, then coming to you and sprinkling herbs and oils around you. You look up at him with wonder and urgency.
"How long is this going to take, Neo?" You whisper, already an hour into this mess and impatient.
"I'm seperating your soul connection to Helen, it's not a simple spell." He says with an eye roll.
You sigh and try to get comfortable, then Neo advises you to stop moving because you're rubbing around the chalk. You just hope this fixes things.
"Alright, were ready to begin." Neo says after another half hour, lighting the last candle that surrounds you.
"What do I need to do?" You ask, unsure of how much work you'll be doing.
"I need you to focus on staying yourself. Which parts of you are truly you, and which parts of Helen you're seperating from." Neo speaks as he looks over a small tome, from which he grabbed the spell from.
"Okay, but how do I know that?" You aren't trying to make this harder, but you also have lived your life as you are for so long. You have no idea how much of you is Helen manifested and how much is truly you.
"You'll have to look inward for that, I'm sorry I don't know an exact answer." He says, and you believe he is truly sorry you're in such a situation. He leans down and takes your hand tenderly.
"You're going to make it through this, one way or another." You nod at his words and you don't know why, but your eyes prickle, tears threatening to fall.
You can't imagine how it will feel to loose such a big part of yourself, it scares you to think who you might be after.
You nod once more, to let Neo know it's time to start, and he gives your hand one final squeeze. You really wish Constantine were here, but you know he wouldn't want you to do something so dangerous. Neo already told you the things that could go wrong if the spell isn't done correctly, and you know if Constantine knew you were planning on doing something that could make you a shell of yourself, he wouldn't allow it.
No, you have to do this alone. You're glad Neo is there to guide you as much as he can, and you suddenly realize how good it is to have such a friend.
He begins to speak, his words in a foreign tongue, and your eyes close. You can feel the energy begin to pulse, and any inklings of doubt you had about Neo being able to perform such a spell vanish. You know, this is it.
Neo takes a lock of your hair he cut earlier, and burns it, dropping it in a bowl filled with other herbs. It burns and the room begins to stink, but you can feel the power growing. You feel a weigh in your chest, and it builds, as if trying to escape your ribcage. You grit your teeth, and try to stay focused on becoming just yourself again. You still have no idea who that is, but you start to think of Constantine once more and the entity inside you pulls again.
You think about all the times you've tried to make something happen between you too, but no matter what something was stopping you. And you realize that Helen never stopped loving John, there was no way you were ever going to love someone else when she was inside you. You think of all the ways Constantine makes you feel, and you realize that those feelings of love for him, are your true feelings, the kind only you can make.
You think of when you two first met, and how nervous you were around him, but still giggling like a school girl despite yourself. You think of all the times you've leaned into him, and how the something that stops you was never happy about it. Constantine and you have always been an almost, a could be, a wish that hadn't come true yet.
You focus on that feeling of love you have for that grumpy asshole, and Neo's voice rises. He burns the photograph of Helen and you feel the power in your chest reel, lurching and trying to be set free. This is what she wants too.
You feel yourself spiralling downward, away from it, the connection between you and Helen growing thinner and thinner as you think more about the life you've lived, and all the friends you've made along the way. There's no way that any of that wasn't your true self. That nights spent with Ted on the couch, laughing until the sun comes up, was always you. That the teasing between you and Neo, so easy and light, was always you. That want between you and Constantine. Even now, it's you who desperately wants him here, holding your hand through this. It's what YOU truly want. No one else. Just you.
And as you dig deeper into that, you feel the pain of losing a part of your soul. You try not to cry out, but the muffled yell escapes your trembling lips. You feel as if a part of your heart is dying, getting ripped out and taken from you. But you know, deep down, Helen wouldn't want you to be with John anyways. He's lost his love, kindness, tenderness from being bitter over her death for all these years.
No, you must separate, you must set Helen's soul free.
"End the cycle..." you hear it. Her voice whispering in your head.
And your jaw sets, teeth biting into teeth, and you take the pain, your screams gutteral and whining, body beginning to writhe as Neo continues the spell, knowing he cannot stop in the middle of it.
You feel your soul being torn apart and all you can think about are the people you love, the people you stay on this earth for, and somehow, you make it through.
Sweat clings to your face and body, and as you open your eyes you see yourself, transparent and floating above you. But you know it's not really you. You watch and Helen seems more peaceful than ever, her soul fading into the abyss. The magic dwindles down and finally after Neo says the final closing words to the ritual, and it's over.
You lay there, exhausted, and Neo comes to your side, and you barely hear what he's saying to you. You feel more hollow, less full and terrified. You have a numbness in your chest, but you also feel as if you can finally breathe after not being able to on your own for so long.
"You did great, I didn't know what would happen, but you made it!" Neo speaks kind words to you, slowly helping you sit up and rubbing your back as you do.
Your stomach clenches as you finally sit. The world seems so different now that you're looking through your fresh pair of eyes, and you stay there, still as Neo dabs your sweaty face kindly with a cloth.
"This should be enough to get him to stop hunting you, now that he can't find Helen's soul within you..." You nod as Neo talks and finally stand up after a while.
Neo takes you out of the summoning circle, letting you lean into him when you need. You sit on the edge of his bed and he leaves for a moment, returning with a small glass of water.
"Here," he says, and you don't realize how dry your mouth is until you take your first sip, happy to be in Neo's care.
"What if he keeps coming..." You whisper out finally.
"Then we kill him." Neo looks at you, and you can see in his eyes that it's true, he really does believe you can defeat this one way or another.
The someone knocks on the door to Neo's apartment, bangs really, and Neo leaves your side to open it.
It's Constantine, he's sweaty and looks worried. He rushes to your side, taking your hand and holding it in his.
"I felt," he speaks, his mouth open to search for the right thing to say. "I knew something was wrong..."
His Slayer abilities are more honed than yours but you wonder if the connection between you two goes deeper than that.
"How...?" You say, but Constantine puts his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes, feeling something between you two.
It feels as if the block between you and him has faded into nothing but scarred tissue. The connection is starting to truly flow for the first time, and it buzzes through your body.
"It's like..." Constantine whispers out. "A sudden weight was lifted, and I could finally feel you..."
You wonder if Helen's soul had been blocking this connection between you two, but you don't know if you'll ever know. All you do know is that he's here for you, and that's what you've always wanted.
Constantine moves and wraps his arms around you tightly, his hug warm and deep.
"Don't you dare scare me like that again." He whispers into your neck, and you nod, tears welling up.
"It's over now, I think..." You whisper back, and Constantine holds you as if he is afraid of letting you go.
"I'll make sure it is..." Constantine mumbles, the anger in his voice clear. For a second you're not sure if you heard him right or not.
You don't want Constantine hunting the vampire down if John is truly no longer interested in you. You don't feel like arguing now though, you're way too tired for all of that. Instead, you let Constantine and Neo take you home, both helping to carry you back.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It's been a few days, but Constantine hasn't left your side. He doesn't say much, as usual, but with the newfound connection between you two, he doesn't need to.
You begin to feel a bit better, the time after the soul seperation made you so weak. It was truly as if you recovering from some illness or injury. You suppose you were though, having soul surgery was no little task, as Neo later said.
Neo as well was there to support you, not always, but he often went out and got the things you and Constantine needed. He would stop and assess how you were doing as well, looking over your aura and making sure you were healing properly.
Ted has been out the whole time, and as the days go on you wonder where he's at. It wasn't uncommon for him to spend a few days a month just at Bill's place, but usually you would have seen him by now...
Tonight, you and Constantine sit on the couch, enjoying one of your favorite movies while he reminds you to drink more water every 15 minutes. You humor him, and let Nurse Constantine prescribe anything he deems necessary. Through your connection, you can feel how worried he is, so you don't want to add to it at all.
You haven't had any nightmares since the soul severance as well. In fact, you've had no dreams at all, and that's just fine with you. You wouldn't care if you ever dreamed again if it meant all that was over.
You gaze out the window by your couch, the full moon casting her loving gaze on the city. You feel the wind stir outside and you wonder what's next for you. You consider how much more slaying you really want to do, but you also know the need is in your blood. It's what you're made for, trained for. You aren't sure if you could ever give it up, but you also love how domestic and calm things have been the past few days. You glance to Constantine and see him for once, almost relaxed next to you, his arm gently and warmly around your shoulder.
Neo knocks at the door, and you can tell because Constantine has been training you to recognize energies better. You get ready to lift yourself from the couch to get the door, but Constantine is already getting it, not wanting you to lift a finger until you're better.
"I'm fine! Really!" You call out to him, and he shakes his head.
"Neo said it takes at least a week until you're fully better, it's only been three days." He grumbles back to you and opens the door.
What neither of you sensed or expected was what was behind that door.
Neo was there, yes, but behind him, claws dug into Neo's throat, was the vampire. Constantine immediately growls and wants to charge him, but it's clear that John will rip out Neo's throat if he does.
"Drop him!" Constantine barks, and you feel as if this is a dream.
"No, you're not supposed to..." You whisper out, slowly rising from the couch, still in some pain.
"Did you really think I wouldn't come back for a taste of that sweet blood of yours?" The vampire hisses at you, ignoring Constantine completely.
"You really shouldn't have done that, my sweet." John cackles. "Now that you've severed yourself from my past love, there's nothing stopping me from draining you dry."
Your body chills at his words, but you have to do something or else he may just kill the people closest to you. You step forward once more and you watch as John holds out his free hand to you, beckoning you to come to him.
"No! I'm not letting you go with him!" Constantine growls out and holds up a protective arm in front of you, trying to stop you from going.
"I'm not going to let him hurt my friends." You say this and know how true this statement is in your soul. You would rather sacrifice yourself than allow Neo or Constantine die trying to save you.
"That's right, my pretty little slayer...I will let your friends go in exchange for you." The vampire confirms with a sickening grin, fangs showing.
As you get closer, the vampire slowly lessens his grip on Neo. John gets more distracted by you coming near, obviously hungry and anger clouding his mind. You can feel Constantine planning something, and you want to call out to him to stop, but before you can, he has rushed the vampire just as you come to meet John's hand.
John's claw grazes Neo's throat, blood slipping from the shallow wound, but he also looses his grip on him. Neo scrambles away, into the apartment, and Constantine rolls on the ground with the vampire in the hallway. You immediately search for anything to help, and spot Constantine's slayer gear near the door.
You grab two stakes and run into the hallway, watching as the vampire begins to over power Constantine. You're screaming and you don't even know for what, but you run, stakes in hand, ready to kill. Just as you're about the strike, John turns, seeing you and using his arm to throw you back, against the wall. You hit it, your head bouncing off with a thud, and your visual blackens.
You see the fuzzy images of the vampire on top of Constantine, his claw coming down in a long gash against his chest. Neo is in the doorway, holding his neck and fumbling with something to try to help, but he was never made to be killing creatures like this. You see the fear in your friends eye, and hear the screams of your love as the vampire descends into the killing blow.
You struggle to attempt to get up, your head pounding, body still weak and recovering, when you hear it. A pounding down the hall. The sound of some great beasts coming your direction. You stare up in shock and awe as two furry creatures jump over you, straight for the vampire. You watch as what looks like giant wolves grip the vampire's arms in their teeth, dragging him off of Constantine. They snarl and growl, and you find yourself on your feet again, gripping the stake you could hold onto and walking towards the vampire.
All that rage, all that fury, it builds inside of you. You feel it moving off you in hot waves, especially as you see Constantine, halfway torn, and you don't know when you start screaming, but you do.
You move faster, the pain moved aside for anger and adrenaline. You watch as the wolves are practically playing tug of war with the vampire, but you know even ripped to shreds that's not how you kill him. The wolves seem to sense your plan and hold the writhing, spitting creature as you do what you should have done that first night.
You watch as the vampire looks you dead in your eyes, that redness showing only evil and hatred, and you raise the stake.
"I'm not letting you get another chance to kill my friends." You say plainly, and the vampire laughs, which only pisses you off more.
You don't wait for him to say some stupid line, his mouth opening to attempt something along those lines. No, you've heard enough.
You drive the stake down, through his heart, and he screams out, shaking and sputtering. The wolves drop his arms from their mouths and the vampire bursts into flames, thrashing until he's burned out into a pile of ash.
You stand there, the carnage before you, the mess of your apartment hall, and you feel your knees weaken. You know you're not done yet, you turn to Constantine, and see Neo is already at his side, dripping some sort of liquid from a vial into his wounds, and speaking a spell.
You rush to his side, falling next to him and holding his hand.
"I'm so sorry..." Is all you can say, tears streaming down your face.
You watch as Constantine tries to keep breathing, in and out, the pain obviously immense. His wounds begin to glow as Neo continues and you lean forward, kissing Constantine's forehead and murmuring words of encouragement to get through this. You can sense how much it helps, and you continue.
"I'm not going to let you die on me now, not after everything." You say to him, your hand gripping his, your tears falling on his face where yours is so close.
"You wish, Princess." He finally sputters out, and with that signature sarcasm of his, you know he'll be alright.
The spell finishes, and Constantine's wounds are closed, blood and rips in his shirt still evident.
"He'll live, but it looks like both of you will need to take it easy for a while." Neo says, and you see he's also healed his own neck where he was knicked.
You reach over Constantine's body and pull Neo into a deep hug.
"Where would we be with out you..." You give him a long squeeze and he laughs.
"Dead. Probably." He says with a wheeze from how hard you've hugged him. You let him go, and smile, happy that you have the type of support you do here.
Just as you're starting to help Constantine sit up, carefully, you see two people walking up to your little scene.
"That was like, so totally awesome, dude!" You hear that familiar voice and look up in surprise.
It's Ted! And he's stark naked next to an equally as naked Bill, neither really finding it important to cover up.
"What! You didn't tell me..." You start, confusion and awe sweeping away your words.
"That we were like, kinda cool and rad werewolves?" Bill answers with a chuckle and Ted high fives him.
"Yeah, we didn't think you needed more supe's in your roster, babe!" Ted replies with his signature goofy grin.
They both lean down and help you and Neo carefully move Constantine inside, setting him carefully on the couch. You all manage, despite a few groans and coughs from Constantine along the way.
You stay by his side while Bill and Ted leave to get dressed, and Neo says he's running to the bathroom to clean the blood from his neck. You look down at Constantine who looks up at you through tired eyes.
"Guess it's you who needed the saving this time," you say, teasing him just a little despite the small tears that still fall gently down your cheeks.
"Guess I did..." He says and his arm reaches up, softly cradling the back of your head and pulling you in.
Your breath is stolen as he kisses you for the first time, tasting of blood and sweat. You don't even care, you kiss him back, hard. You've been waiting for this for so long now, and you're not going to let it go. You move your lips against his with so much want, and he returns the feeling fully, the connection between you two pulsing with love. You know now that you two can make it through anything, and you have never felt more capable, in love, or safe by those around you.
You know that despite everything, you truly are a slayer, and with those you love by your side, you need not worry about the future.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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superbat-love · 4 months
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Constantine: Did it hurt?
Batman: Focus, Constantine.
Constantine: When you fell from heaven?
Superman: [loudly clearing his throat] Don’t worry, nobody got hurt because I was there to catch him.
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spacedace · 1 year
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Okay but the Justice League finds out their new baby hero teammate Phantom is the Ghost King by virtue of the Fright Night showing up while they're in the middle of a meeting, looking terrifying and such and scaring the shit out of everyone- even more so when Constantine starts freaking out over the fact that the sworn night of the King of the Infinite Realms is in the Watchtower what the fuck that's apocalyptically bad Pariah Dark is supposed to be locked the fuck up forever - but instead of trying to smite them all or yeet them into the nightmare dimension he just pulls out a space themed packed lunch??? And gives it to Phantom??
And the mildly eldritch giant murder ghost is talking about how "The Queen Mother commanded me to ensure you ate my Lord, she says you missed your morning meal."
And Phantom is just grumbling about over protective sisters and "there's a cafeteria i would have been fine" what the fuck is happening right now?
What do you mean "oops you forgot" Phantom I thought the ghost thing was just a theme!
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fics-not-tragedies · 4 months
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January 2024 Music Prompts: Day 5
Francesca ♫ Hozier
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Francesca ♫ Hozier x John Constantine
Though I know my heart would break/I'd tell them, "Put me back in it".
In the city where shadows whispered secrets and the night held its breath in anticipation, Constantine, prowled the dimly lit alleys. His life was a tapestry woven with threads of darkness and the eternal struggle against the demonic forces that sought to breach the fragile barrier between worlds.
One moonlit night, after a fierce battle that left the air thick with the acrid scent of infernal smoke, Constantine found himself in a secluded corner of the city. The echoes of the confrontation still resonated in his chest, a haunting melody of battles fought and adversaries vanquished. Yet, amidst the triumph, an unfamiliar ache lingered - a longing that echoed in the chambers of his heart.
The night seemed to hold its breath as he leaned against a cold stone wall, the city's pulse throbbing beneath his fingertips. In the solitude of the moment, he pondered the inexplicable yearning that tugged at the frayed edges of his warrior's resolve.
"Though I know my heart would break," Constantine whispered to the shadows, his voice a mere exhale in the stillness. The admission hung in the air, a confession to the universe that even a stoic demon hunter carried the burden of unspoken desires.
In the midst of the urban labyrinth, where mortal and supernatural forces collided, Constantine felt an unfamiliar vulnerability. The city's heartbeat, usually drowned by the cacophony of nocturnal life, now echoed the rhythm of his introspection.
As he navigated the labyrinthine alleys, a figure emerged from the darkness - a woman, cloaked in shadows like an ethereal wraith. Her eyes, pools of mystery that held the secrets of both realms, met Constantine's with an unspoken understanding.
In the silence that stretched between them, Constantine recognized a kindred spirit - an ally in the ceaseless war against the demonic forces. She, too, carried the weight of battles on her shoulders, and in her presence, Constantine sensed a resonance that transcended the realm of supernatural camaraderie.
"I'd tell them, 'Put me back in it,'" Constantine murmured, his voice a low declaration that hung in the air. The words, a plea to the cosmic forces that governed fate, held a quiet desperation. He was willing to endure the heartbreak, the vulnerability, for the chance to delve deeper into the enigma of his own desires.
As they walked through the labyrinth together, Constantine and the woman forged a connection that defied the usual boundaries of their existence. They shared tales of battles won and lost, victories celebrated and scars earned. In each other's presence, the weight of their duties felt momentarily lifted, replaced by a shared understanding that transcended words.
In the heart of the city, where the boundaries between realms blurred, Constantine and the woman stood face to face. The moon cast a silvery glow on their figures, an ethereal spotlight on a moment that held the promise of vulnerability and connection.
And then, as if guided by an unseen force, Constantine and the woman leaned in. Their lips met in a kiss that tasted of both victory and longing - a union that held the echoes of countless battles and the quiet whispers of unspoken desires.
In that transformative kiss, Constantine discovered a solace that transcended the chaos of his existence. The heartbreak he had feared seemed a small price to pay for the warmth and connection that blossomed in the embrace of the night.
As they parted, the city's heartbeat resumed its rhythmic pulse, echoing the quiet triumph of a demon hunter who, in the midst of shadows and battles, found a sanctuary in the arms of a kindred spirit. And in the quiet aftermath of that kiss, Constantine embraced the vulnerability that came with the acknowledgment of his own heart - a heart that, despite the perilous nature of his calling, dared to beat for connection and the promise of a shared journey through the shadows.
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flamingpudding · 10 months
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DPxDC Family Week June 24 (Day 7)
Prompts: Distant Relatives | Engrave
A/N: This is what I believe some would call straight up crack :D
AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions
How do you tell your great great great great great (how many greats do you add when the child is the x-generation after about… how many years again? Danny had lost count) grand nephew that the ghost king, he just summoned, with an old family heirloom is his granduncle of many generations?
"Batman. Why does the pendant you gave me summon the fucking Ghost King?" Danny heard a familiar man in a trench coat say next to his nephew (he decided he needed to keep it simple there were too many greats to count)
The batman grunted glaring at the man, Danny blinked finally recognising the guy.
"Aren't you the guy who sold like a tenth of your soul to Ellie's spouse? I am sure I also heard Lucifer complaining that Mammon got more parts of your soul than he has." Danny mused as he looked down at them in his eldritch form. Noting how his nephew tensed as he got past that pathetic wall of protection.
Honestly all the protective engravings he had gifted his nephew and nieces through out generations were a hundred times better. How else would a place like Gotham survive on only Lady Gotham as spiritual protection from ghosts of the Ghost Zone and his former rogues that still liked to mess with his children, nephews and nieces? At least Jazz's branch of the family was safe from them this way. He had baby proofed the entire town or better every town a part of his branch family lived in.
"So, trading game, why did you summon me?" He would have liked to stay hidden, you know? The branch family had long forgotten their relation to the Ghost King and Danny had easily accepted that. His own child of chaos had not so much and preferred to play with the earth family branch but that's besides the point. They had used the pendant to summon him, with his own personal engraving. Did that mean they remembered or did his son let something slip to his cousin?
"Trading game." Someone snorted and for the first time since he got summoned Danny noticed the audience around him. His eldritch form did the equivalent to stunt blinking as he straightened up and took count of the children of his nephew. Baby Ghost, Baby Menace, Baby Stalker and Baby Stabby were there.
A gasp left his lips. A Baby Ghost was sick! In a puff of greenish smoke his eldritch form was dismissed and he changed to his favorite 20 years old Phantom form, rushing past his nephew and trading game.
"You poor baby! I didn't realize you were this sick! If I had known I would have done something way sooner!" He fretted as he inspected one of his nephew's babies, hovering around the boy poking and prodding the little guy, well little to him anyway.
"Who are you calling a baby?! Get your fucking hands of me!" Danny only hummed, patting the baby's head, only a little sad that he couldn't look at his face as Baby Ghost was wearing his favorite red explosive helmet and was on duty.
But on second thought seeing their cute little uniforms live was way better than when he had watched them through his ice mirrors. "Don't worry little Red Hood. You will be feeling a whole lot better soon. Your Uncle Danny will make sure of it."
"The fuck?" The sick baby probably looked at Danny like he had gone insane and the ghost king could only laugh. Good had it been long since he interacted with the earth branch family let alone humans. Maybe he should start accompanying his youngest to his visits to earth.
"Constantine! I thought the sigils were supposed to contain him!" He heard his nephew grunt and Danny grinned over his shoulder at them.
"My little nephew. I granted you way better engravings than this pathetic wall of protection." As if to prove a point he flew around the babies, stopping by the youngest and pulling his sword from him. There were gasps of shock as well as complaints and he couldn't help the laugh as little Baby Stabby tried to lunge at him but got held back by the eldest Baby Menace. He just held the sword towards his nephew and trading game as he held his palm against it and let his power flow. Soon the sigils he had placed on the sword as a homecoming present to the youngest baby, when he started living with his nephew, started to appear, glowing and shining.
"You… you engraved your sigils on things the bats own?!" Disbelieve clearly coloring the trench coats' voice as the man paled. His nephew appeared to be close to start brooding like he had seen him do a couple of times through the ice mirrors. Danny returned the sword, huffing amused how little Robin instantly inspected the sword again, the engravings no longer visible.
"Of course I did. I promised my sister a long time ago that I would always protect her children. Though the engravings were certainly hard to hide from one of your babies."
"Sister? Babies?" Baby Stalker aka Red Robin aka little Tim asked and Danny coed. This baby always reminded him of his best friend Tucker and he was glad to have a technology adept child in the family again.
"Yes your great great great uh…" he stopped thinking how many greats he needed to add and ended up sighing compromising with: "...your grandmother many generations ago."
"How many of our things did you engrave?" His nephew finally grunted out, trench coat guy definitely looking like he was having an aneurysm by now.
"Don't remember, decorations, jewelry, toys, weapons, I think I even engraved your belt buckle." The ghost king shrugged, he honestly didn't. Ellie liked to joke that he was way too protective of the earth branch with the amount of protective engravings and sigils he had put up for them without them even knowing. She was still a little cross with them when they started forgetting about their ghostly part of the family after Jazz died.
There was a distinctive frustrated sigh and for a second Danny did feel bad for his nephew. Maybe he should not have just simply spewed everything but he couldn't hold himself back when he saw the sick baby. He was protective of his family, sue him. At least he hadn't given any of his nephews potential mates a shovel talk yet, not like he had with Ellie's spouse anyway. Jazz had banned him from using Fright Knight's Soul Shredder on humans after he had mentally scared and traumatized her first boyfriend with it. Apparently the guy had been too weak to handle it and lay sick in bed for a while after his return from the nightmare realm.
That reminded him! Turning around he flew up to the sick baby again who flinched back from his touch. He ignored that and only made a calming thrilling noise, calling out to the baby's sick core.
"Get the fuck away-"
Poor baby must be suffering badly from uncontrolled anger and ghostly intermittent explosive disorder. No wonder he hadn't developed any of his powers yet. That Disorder tended to be violent, especially the ghostly kind. Carefully letting his power wash over the baby, Danny coaxed out the little underdeveloped core. Usually he would make sure to do these kinds of things for any of his children, nieces and nephews in a safe environment but this was an exception. It was a sick baby core that would receive long lasting damage if not treated.
Gasp resounded as the tiny core came out of the baby's chest, not wasting any time Danny refresh the ectoplasm in it and removed the corrupted one. He then sent the core back into the baby's chest patting him where it sunk back into the body.
"There you go! Should be all good now!" A second after he said it Danny blinked at all the weapons that were pointed at him. He flinched a little as Baby Menace let electricity spark near him.
"WAIT THAT IS THE GHOST KING YOU IDIOTS!" Trading game screamed, apparently finally waking up from whatever stupor he had been in.
"So? He did something to Todd. Who knows what that was." Danny cooed, he knew Baby Stabby cared, his own youngest was similar in that way, just more chaotic in his display of affection, which also earned him his title. Little Damian was also the most intune with ghostly etiquette next to Baby Ghost, considering the reason for the nickname Danny gave him.
"And he can destroy entire dimensions! Do you guys want to doom us all?!" Trench coat countered very much insistent that the babies pull back their weapons.
Danny in return only huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. Like he would destroy the home of the earth branch. That man was talking rather rudely to them and he was also stopping him from bonding with his nephews' babies. "Buzz of trading game. This is a family matter and if the babies want to bond then we will bond."
After a moment of consideration he added. "Also don't talk to them like that. They are royalty and I will not have you disrespect them."
With a wave of his hand a green portal opened below the man swallowing him. Being nice Danny decided to drop the man off in his own home. He was the one that taught his nephew how to use the pendant again after all. But he wanted to be left alone with his family. Before his nephew or the babies could panic he smiled brightly and said. "Don't worry I sent him home to his house of mysteries or whatever he calls it. So we can have some family time! Besides, my In-law wouldn't be happy if I harmed his contract even if his soul is a trading game among the demons…"
They all shared a look and seemed to take the ghost king's words for it. Especially as litte Jason finally got out of his shock, patting at his own chest and mentioning that he indeed did feel better. Saying that there was no Pit Madness in his mind anymore, huh so that's what the Disorder got called on earth.
They instantly questioned Danny of what he did to which their ghostly uncle only smiled at the once sick baby without answering. He would have Frostbite to take a second look soon though, just to be safe.
"You mentioned us to be royalty?" The gruff voice his nephew put on when on duty resounded and a warm smile spread across the ghost kings face to the wonder of the bat-clan present.
"I thought that information got passed down through all the generations like the summoning pendant." The ghost king tilted his head. "You do know your part of the Infinite Realms Royalty right?"
"We… are royalty? For real?" One of the babies slowly asked and Danny grinned at them.
"Of course you are. In fact, the little Baby Ghost here-" He flew up to Jason, the once sick baby and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Is the fifth in line should neither my children, nore Ellie or her children want to take over the throne when I don't want it anymore and don't feel like bothering on waiting for someone to beat me in a succession battle."
"Red Hood is? Shouldn't it be like Batman or Robin?" Little Tim asked and Danny sadly shook his head.
"By earth standards, sure. Not by Ghost Zone standards though. They don't have a core, it would be different if they develop a core after death but right now? It's baby Hood here who is in line."
"So… to sum it up." The oldest baby started packing his weapons away and Danny felt just a little bit disappointed but the youngest had his sword out. So maybe a bit of bonding would still happen now that the earth branche knew about their relationship again.
"B is a descendant of your sister which makes him royalty and in turn all his children, blood and adopted equally? And Red Hood is even in line for the throne of another dimension because he has, what you call a core?"
"Yup." Danny popped the 'p', he was about to explain more considering his nephew had adopted quite the stoic look and the babies did appear to become slowly a little too overwhelmed. When a red portal opened and his own son decided to join the family reunion.
"Dad! What is taking you so long? Aunt Ellie is sending me to fetch you cause she thinks you're skipping your meeting with the observants again!"
"KLARION?!" Baby Stalker shouted and Danny blinked. Oh right, his own baby boy liked to bond with his cousin's babies. When was the last time his baby boy visited earth? Oh the babies were taking on fighting stances. How sweet of them! Even his nephew was tensing up and looked ready to fight.
"Baby Spook, are you here to bond with your cousin's again?" Sue him, he couldn't help the excitement. His little chaos was the most interested in playing with his earth branch family compared to everyone else in the ghost branch, including Ellie's children. They liked to mess with entire dimensions though and nearly caused at least three wars in the last ten years. They had also inherited Ellie's ire in regards to the earth branch forgetting their existence. That's why his youngest son had taken it upon himself to teach and bond with the little ones here.
"Bond?" Little Tim questioned while his son sighed.
"Beings of the Infinite Realms bond via fighting. How else are we going to teach babies how to protect themselves and become stronger?" The Lord of Chaos explained in exasperation like he was talking to a toddler. Considering their age differences he kind of was, Danny mused.
"Hold on, does that mean all the times you spent attacking was…?"
"Me bonding with you babies, yes. My siblings as well as older cousins aren't interested so of course that leaves me, the heir and superior cousin, to take care of our earth bound family."
"Even when you messed with the watchtower?"
Klarion arched an eyebrow at Batman. "Just because you are the oldest among the earthly doesn't mean you're any less of a toddler."
"Klarion." Danny warned, his cousins might be babies by ghost terms but that didn't mean he could act all arrogantly with them. Danny might have spoiled the boy since he was his youngest child but he surely had raised him better than that.
"No bonding today, Dad, you do have a meeting scheduled." A sigh left his lips, he guessed it was time to return. The disappointment must have been written all over the ghost king's face as his son huffed in amusement. "Maybe next time, Dad. You can come alone… if you get away from the observants."
"Alright, alright." Agreeing, Danny flew over to the summoning cycle and picked up the pentant before floating to his nephew.
The boy took a step back from him but Danny just smiled and continued forward, placing the pendant around Batman's neck. "My calling card, little nephew. We don't exactly have phones in the Infinite Realms. So use that to call me any time, though now that you guys got reminded about your relation to me I will make sure to come visit more often and not just watch and protect you from the other side."
"See you later Amadillos"
"Bye Bye Baby Bats!"
With that he didn't leave his nephew and the babies time to respond as he opened a portal and he and his son returned to the Infinite Realms, where an angry Ellie was waiting for him. Oh boy…
Meanwhile the bat clan exchanged looks slowly digesting the information dump that had just happened. They had just wanted to have Constantine check on the engraving they had on a family heirloom that happened to be similar to one that was found on an ancient egyptian summon plate and had caused some rather dangerous events.
Who would have thought that the Ghost King himself would tell them that they were apparently related and royalty in another dimension?
"I am so going to rub it in Roy's face that I am Royalty." Red Hood broke the silence.
"I always knew I was of royal descent." Robin added holding himself even prouder than before.
"Am i the only one losing my shit here that B and Robin are apparently blood related to Klarion? Also… just a warning I am going to start digging into the Family tree now." Red Robin informed with a glint in his eyes hidden behind his mask. He was definitely not asking for permission to do so.
"The Ghost King kept calling us babies though." Nightwing sounded amused, watching at how his brothers were taking the news and wondered how the rest of the family would react.
While Batman on the other hand was brooding and appeared to be severely constipated, probably thinking of all the worst case scenarios and most likely trying to figure if he needed a contingency plan for their newly discovered interdimensional family or not.
John Constantine on the other hand awoke back in his home and let out a long and suffering groan with the new knowledge he gained. Apparently the ghost king's in-law had a contract with him and now he also couldn't even be rude to the bats anymore because they were royalty and he would be screwed and potentially risk his entire existence should the Ghost King take offense. He was fucked the next time he had to deal with the bat-clan again.
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suppose-i-was-worm · 9 months
Text
Like A Lamb
**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**
John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.
Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.
He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.
John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.
The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.
How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?
John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.
With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.
The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.
He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.
~~~
Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.
“What do you think it is, Danny?”
He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.
“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”
For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.
The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.
That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.
Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.
“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”
“Adopted?”
“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”
Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.
“Why did he- what made him do that?”
Pandora ruffled his hair.
“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”
~~~
“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”
Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.
“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”
“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”
John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.
He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.
Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?
“Fine. What are the details?”
Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.
“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”
“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”
The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.
As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.
The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.
The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.
This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.
Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.
And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.
“Hi.”
The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.
“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”
Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.
“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”
“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”
Bless Diana.
“Can you leave the circle, young one?”
The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.
“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”
John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?
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