#Conscience of Constantine

[monenblogi]

[ TENSION ]  one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact,  lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s. (max is making bad choices) - @normaltothemax

The universal constant was that John was a void of existence. A virus that infected everything around him, sucked up and pulled out the worst in order to prop himself and his ever-scabbed ego to feel like a God. Sometimes he liked to joke that he just had that kind of effect on people. 

That he’d show them their worst fears on a silver platter, and they’d never want to go back to being just normal. 

Like had its funny jokes like that. Or maybe it was the shock doing the heavy lifting with the adrenaline and whatever could be fished from the remains of the medicine cabinet. Not as funny as the joke about kids these days not knowing how to throw a punch without a spare screwdriver in hand, but the sharper press of the cotton into the gash on his shoulder had a second opinion on the matter. 

But then it had eased, the cotton pulling off in placement of bandages as soft fingers traced at the bumps and grooves of long forgotten scars making up a language even longer forgotten. Maybe she had understood that he could’ve done so much worse to a pair of drunk assholes behind a bar and simply chose not to. 

Maybe it frustrated her, like John was so used to seeing. Once again meeting every expectation and veering a sharp left as opposed to what should’ve happened. He had half a mind to joke about also having that effect on clairvoyants. 

Maybe she knew that would’ve happened as well and it upset her even more. Maybe she was upset he was still somehow alive. Maybe he’d piece the dots together some day along with whatever he had managed to break off the side table when one-handed groping for the condom. Maybe he’d stop to question why he liked the way Max slotted so nicely in his lap. Felt so wet around his fingers, made such soft noises against his lips despite the aggression... 

But John knew now for sure she liked playing with fire. He could work with that. 

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #43

Stitches

Imagine dis…

I was just cleaning my room when I came across an old stuffed toy of mine. It is full of stitches like an amateur trying surgery for the first time and flopping it. I just remembered sewing my stuffed toy together as a kid. Like I was playing on them too harshly or one of my younger siblings got a hold of it and roughed it all up. So when I noticed my mom had no time to help me stitch my toy, I did it myself and the results varied…

…

John Constantine, aka the Laughing Magician, wasn’t an idiot. A drunk? Absolutely. A smoker? You bet. Had the worst bloody taste in romantic or sexual partners? Well, that’s a given. But an idiot? Not a chance. He knew, better than most, that the world he lived in was held together by nothing more than spit, lies, and a hell of a lot of bloody stubbornness.

But lately, something felt off…

Every time some wanker in a bright-colored cape and spandex punched, both literally and figuratively, through time or ripped an open hole to another dimension, it began as if reality was fixing itself.

He still remembered the bloody heart attack he nearly had the first time he read those sodding reports on time travel and dimension hopping. The second his eyes skimmed over the first few lines, he buggered off without so much as a goodbye, diving headfirst into the mess to sniff out whatever godawful consequences those spandex-clad pillocks had left in their wake. So imagine his surprise when, after dragging his sorry arse across the whole damn world, he found… nothing.

Not a damn thing.

No lingering paradoxes, no dangerous tears leaking out eldritch nightmares. It wasn’t natural. And anything unnatural coming from the bastard that split his soul like some two-bit, overachieving Voldemort, made his skin crawl.

So, like any poor sod with a knack for bad decisions and a bloody inconvenient conscience, he followed the ripples.

And that’s how he ended up standing in the inky void between worlds, a cig hanging off his lips, watching some scrawny teenager go to the fabric of reality that was torn apart by yet another one of those bloody spandex-wearing tossers, with a needle, like the universe had personally pissed in his pint.

The kid sat cross-legged in the void, stabbing his bloody needle through the fabric of space-time, and from the looks of it he was fueled by nothing but caffeine and a serious dose of spite. The thread he was using was bright blue, flickering with silver and white specks. Like tiny stars in each thread. Each stitch yanked the frayed edges of existence together, a bit rougher than necessary, like he was pissed off at the whole damn universe.

Constantine blew out a long stream of smoke, taking in the mess around him with a grimace. A sorry bloody sight, that’s for sure.

The kid had already clocked the audience, rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. He didn’t even bother with a glance, clearly unimpressed.

The kid introduced himself as Danny, then stretched out another few feet of thread and got back to stitching, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

The kid, Danny, if Constantine heard right, grunted, clearly unimpressed. He didn’t stop working, shoulders hunched in exhaustion like he’d been doing this for far too long. The whole cosmic janitor routine: they rip holes, he stitches 'em up. Same old, same old.

Bloody typical.

Constantine crouched down, eyeing the erratic stitching with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. This wasn’t normal, not by a long shot.

Danny let out a sharp, humorless laugh, clearly fed up. He jabbed the needle into a particularly stubborn tear with all the force of someone who'd had enough. The sarcasm practically dripped from him. Seems he was well and truly done with his unglamorous role in this cosmic mess.

Constantine felt a prickle of unease, the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway.

What happens if you stop?

Danny’s response was all sarcasm and sass, if there was any doubt left, it was gone now. He didn’t even need to elaborate. The answer was bloody obvious if the kid, Danny, ever stopped stitching.

Danny snorted, flashing Constantine a wicked grin, all teeth and mischief. The kind of smile that made his gut twist.

Ah. Bugger.

Constantine didn’t need a bloody prophecy to know what that meant. If the kid stopped, the world wouldn’t just fall apart it would unravel, slow and steady, like a seamstress unpicking stitches, one by one, until nothing was left. And worse? There’d be no afterlife waiting to catch the poor sods caught in the collapse. No heaven, no hell, no second chances. Just the abyss, swallowing everything whole. No way in. No way out.

Now Constantine was scrambling, doing everything in his power to keep the kid from buggering off while there were still holes left to patch. And, just as importantly, making sure those spandex-clad pillocks finally got the memo, no more bloody time travel or dimension-hopping shenanigans.

The kid must’ve clocked what he was up to because, without a word, he handed Constantine a green-glowing bat with “Creepstick” printed on the side. He didn’t think much of it at first up until, after one particularly miserable day, he swung the thing in frustration and accidentally clocked Superman, who had just been reaching out to ask if he was alright.

For a second, Constantine felt guilty. Then he remembered that the Kryptonian had probably punched more holes in reality than anyone else. That guilt? Gone. Replaced by pure, unfiltered glee.

With renewed purpose, he set his sights on the next offender, the red spandex speedster responsible for most of the timeline’s headaches. The rest of the heroes caught on quickly that he was on some kind of unholy warpath. So when he casually knocked the Man of Steel on his arse with a single swing and grinned like a serial killer who’d just found his next victim, they did the smart thing they got the hell out of his way.

Some of the ones with super-hearing overheard his next target: one of the Flashes.

Constantine knew damn well he wasn’t getting into any afterlife, but for fuck’s sake, if they didn’t stop tearing holes in the bloody universe, none of them would have a place to go. No heaven, no hell just the abyss waiting to swallow them whole. And he wasn’t about to let that happen on his watch.

…

 PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: I tried using Constantine POV throughout the entire prompt and as you can see that I over did at the Brit slang.

PPPS: Though, how did I do?….

[nanenna]

This Montage Could've Been a Beach Episode

Sleepy King AU Masterpost

Sad Danny Hour is finally receding enough I can get back to the more fun and light hearted stuff. Hope you all enjoyed the angst, there's absolutely none anywhere in this fic, I promise! ;D

-----

Diana grew tired of her team arguing in circles. “Stop, all of you. We’re getting nowhere.” She glared the gathered magic users down as they all looked to her. “Young Danny has been up on the Watchtower for several hours now, it’s highly unlikely whoever made this god egg doesn’t already know where he is. I cannot in good conscience let this boy leave without at least attempting to get the Ghost King out of him.”

Constantine tossed the earpiece Danny had used earlier at Diana, who caught it easily. “Clever bit of necromancy, that earpiece. Necromancy, luv. The Ghost King.”

“Nevertheless,” Diana said firmly, “now that we know what’s causing the block, can you work around it?”

Constantine sighed deeply, but the others paid him no mind.

“There are a few spells,” Zatanna said hesitantly.

“A few tricks to get a look, at least,” Dr. Fate agreed.

“Wonder Woman said he has blessings,” Raven said quickly. “They’re likely from trials Phantom has passed.”

“Yes,” Dr. Fate agreed. “It still wouldn’t hurt to look into them, they may be affecting how Phantom interacts with Danny.”

“Before you go,” Constantine interrupted as the group turned to head back. “The first rule of god eggs is you cannot let anyone inside know they’re inside one. The chick especially.”

“That is good to know,” Diana said with a nod.

“Make sure other two know as well.” Constantine shoved his hands in his pockets and let his shoulders slump as he spoke, as if he had no faith in that fact changing how Batman and Superman would act.

Diana could understand that attitude, it likely wouldn’t.

Diana’s communicator made a noise. She pulled it out to check it.

Superman: Danny is asking for someone named “Puhdora,” we think he means you.

Ah, now Diana truly knew how Clark felt. This boy, who doesn’t even know the danger he’s currently in, has mistaken her for someone he trusts. Well, if it will help keep him calm until the matter is resolved she will do her best to be this Puhdora person.

The group quietly filed back into the kitchenette, Zatanna, Marvel, and Fate quickly making themselves some more tea while Diana leaned down to murmur Constantine’s warning in Bruce’s ear. From the way Clark’s head was tilted he heard her too. She then moved her chair around to sit on the other side of Danny from Clark. She gently brushed some hair behind the boy’s ears.

“Pindoa,” Danny drowsily mumbled, hard to hear with his mouth pressed against a mug.

“Hello again, Danny,” Diana said gently with a smile, though her thoughts were spinning. Had he just called her Pandora? As in the titaness who guarded a chest that contained many great evils? That was incredibly concerning, if the beings who created the god egg included a titan she shuddered to think who or what else were working with her. She pulled out her communicator.

Wonder Woman: He has mistaken me for the titaness Pandora. Cpt. Marvel: Well that’s not ominous Dr. Fate: At least we now know the general power level of the beings who made this god egg. Zatanna: What is a titan doing looking after the Ghost King? Constantine: Oh great a bunch of angry bloody titans

Diana was distracted as Clark pushed a tablet in front of her. As she took the device she glanced over to see Bruce tapping away at his wrist computer. How kind of the man. And the device was already open to Phantom’s file, truly Bruce was very thoughtful. Diana angled the tablet so Danny wouldn’t be able to read the screen and started reading over everything Bruce had collected so far.

The pressure in the room began building again. She could feel the energies swirling around them as the magic users began casting their spells once more. She glanced over at Danny from the corner of her eye, he was yawning again. Ah, so he felt it too. As should be expected, even if they weren’t entirely sure how aware Phantom was of the situation.

The most important thing right now was to find out how entwined the two were after that cult’s summoning ritual. Constantine had stated that the boy had died and the Ghost King was the only thing keeping him alive, that likely his mind would be ripped asunder by the tyrant when he woke. Would Phantom be the same? Would the shredding happen on its own or was it a choice? As Diana skimmed through the information Bruce had gathered on the new king she couldn’t help thinking surely if it were a choice Phantom would do all in his power to protect young Danny. Time and again the young spirit had put himself in harm’s way to protect the people of Amity Park. Yes, he stumbled from time to time, everyone does. It was quite clear to Diana that this god egg wasn’t a series of trials for a tested hero, but rather a playpen for a young child.

A weight leaned against her side. Diana looked over to find Danny had switched from leaning against Clark to leaning against her. She tenderly brushed his hair from his face again and smiled down at the boy, who sighed in contentment.

If only gods didn’t view mortals as little more than play things. Phantom may be a small child in a playpen, but children were rough on their toys and mortals were so very fragile. There had miraculously been no deaths due to Phantom’s trials, she sent up a silent plea that Danny wouldn’t be the first.

The group chat, which was minimised in the corner of the screen, started moving. Diana expanded it to see what was going on.

Zatanna: I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Dr. Fate: It’s likely part of Phantom’s trials, to find a way to get out without hurting the boy. Cpt. Marvel: Assuming it’s actually part of the trials and not an accident. I doubt Phantom getting summoned is part of the god egg. Wonder Woman: Judging from the information Batman has been gathering, Phantom has a rapport with the children of Amity Park and will likely do all in his power to not harm Danny. Constantine: Sending the kid back to where the adults can keep an eye on him would be best Batman: If you’re all in agreement.

Diana glanced over to see Bruce frowning down at his wrist computer. She did not like the conclusion any more than him, but there was only so long they could risk a titan’s wrath, let alone the wrath of wherever else was working with Pandora.

Clark scooted his chair back, took a deep breath, then slapped his hands on his knees, “Well.”

Danny scrambled to chug the rest of his hot cocoa and distractedly put the mug down so he could stand with Clark. Diana couldn’t help smiling as she serenely stood to keep pace with them. Despite having rushed, Danny stifled yet another yawn and blearily shuffled after Clark as the man considerately kept his pace slow for the sleepy boy.

Diana sent out a quiet prayer he would be well.

They must have made quite the procession as their group headed for the Zeta tubes: Constantine and Raven well ahead of them, Clark, Danny, and Diana clustered together, followed shortly by Batman, Zatana, Dr. Fate, and Captain Marvel trailing after. Quite the escort for one single teenager who was basically sleep walking through the Watchtower.

“Ow!”

Diana startled and looked to the side just in time to see Danny bending down to pick up what appeared to be a boomerang, his other hand rubbing absently at the side of his head.

Danny heaved a great sigh, “Guess Jazz got imp-... uh… what?” He looked around at them, fully awake and clearly confused.

“Well, it’s a good thing we were just taking you home then, right?” Clark asked with a nervous chuckle.

Danny looked at the group of heroes around him, then down at the strangely glowing boomerang. Clark reached forward, likely to try gently encouraging Danny to continue down the hallway, towards where Constantine was staring at them in open mouthed shock.

Danny ran.

[cloakedsparrow]

Bat Family 'Bruce is Tim's biological parent' AU Idea #1

Wherein Jack Drake: a) Regularly tags along on archaeological digs despite not being an archaeologist. b) Commonly smuggles home archaeological finds despite that not being legal. c) Does not believe in curses, hauntings, or any mythology despite the world that he lives in being populated with *gestures at comics* all that.

As a result, Jack is like a magnet for cursed objects and keeps smuggling the damned things home.

The first time little Timmy suspects this is happening, he knows his dad won't respond well to him suggesting the most recent package he sent home is haunted. He knows he'll respond even worse if he tries to get anyone else involved. So he sends his mom a private email explaining what's going on. Janet replies that he's right to be suspicious, that this has absolutely happened before, and that he was right to contact her. She tells him she's sending over a friend who can help and gives him a password that she'll tell the friend so he knows it's okay to let him in the house.

John Constantine shows up within the hour. Tim is certain he didn't drive there (the alert that someone passed through the gates never went off and no one put in a code to open them) but there is a cursed object in his house and John knew the password Janet gave him, so he's mostly just happy to have an adult there to handle the situation. Even if a somewhat bizarre adult.

John takes care of the cursed object and is impressed that Tim reacted to it much faster than most do. He gives Tim his card with instructions to call him if anything like what was happening starts to happen again or if anything else weird starts happening after his father has been to any digs or sent home any strange packages.

As Jack is the aforementioned cursed object magnet, Tim ends up calling John fairly often for someone who doesn't actively work with the occult and is, in fact, a child. John keeps praising him for catching on as quick as he does and giving him information to catch onto other types of mystical/magical wickedness. Tim gets really good at recognizing when magic/curses/spirits are at play.

Then, Janet dies and Jack goes into a coma. Tim is fostered by Bruce for a year and a half and doesn't have to worry about curses or haunted objects for all that time. When they do come across something of the occult, Bruce/Batman has his own contacts, so there was never a reason for Tim to bring any of it up.

Then, the events of Identity Crisis/Crisis of Conscience occur, and Bruce doesn't want to talk to Zatanna (his usual mystic go-to) if it can be helped. He doesn't want to call in anyone connected to most of the Justice League if it can be helped.

So when they come across a cursed object, Tim immediately identifies it and tells Bruce not to worry, he knows a guy who can handle it. The man knows his civilian identity, so they'll have to pretend Bruce bought the object as part of an action or estate sale lot.

John comes and handles it. Before he leaves he comments that he's glad Tim's biological father finally decided to step up and that Bruce better take good care of the boy.

When Tim explains that Bruce isn't his father, the look on John's face clearly shows that he's trying to figure out how to back-step, but not in the expected way. More in the 'I let on information i wasn't supposed to' way.

Which is how Bruce and Tim end up running a paternity test in the Cave at four am.

Alfred and Dick are delighted by the results.

[Alternative ending: John pulls Bruce aside to let him know that Janet told him Jack wasn't Tim's father and that both he and Bruce were on the short list and he hadn't known Jack died or he'd have contacted him already. They have to wait to find out which of them is the lucky one. Either Bruce turns out to be the father and John just lets Tim know he can still call him whenever needed or it turns out John is the father and they decide Tim should still stay with Bruce but John has visitations. Also, Tim might have been showing signs of his Homo Magi heritage when he recognized all these cursed objects. John insists on teaching him to use his magic despite Bruce's unease with it.]

[jscrawls]

I feel like John and Addams!reader are such a cute pair, how do you think John felt when she broke up with him and how would he feel if he found out she’s in Gotham being friendly with the bats?

I love all the ideas y'all have! Here's another one shot this time focused on Constantine and reader just for u anon 🖤

(I just wanted to use this gif somewhere too 🤷‍♀️)

Grave feelings

More about Constantine and Addams! Reader (request)

🔹🔹🔹

the disorienting pull and brief wirl of scorching heat has you stumbling forward, nearly landing on top of the blue-gray skinned imp you’d just summoned.

said imp snarls and runs a clawed hand through her short orange hair exasperatedly and tugs on one of her bovine ears as she looks up at…..your summoner? “what the shit do ya want johnny? we’re clearly busy here!”

you glance around the basic living room you’ve somehow landed in, empty ash trays and old takeout containers decorate a coffee table while some news station plays on low volume across the room, there’s a blanket in the floor next to the brown armchair, beneath you sits multiple symbols and objects of importance painted into the hardwood floor and scattered in a semi orderly fashion, how dedicated! your eyes quickly land on the other person in the place.

”well s’cuse me ma’am, i didn’t realize it was bargain bin day. who’s this beaut?”

the aformentioned ‘johnny’ stands at the edge of the circle lighting up a cigarette, he’s fairly tall with short pale-blond hair and unkempt cheek scruff that juxtaposes the clean white button-up shirt and pale pink tie. he shoves his zippo back in his tan trench coats deep pockets and takes a deep drag of his smoke.

the imp stomps a cloven foot at the perceived dig but then huffs and glances up to meet your eyes. “oh piss off john, this une’s a real freak, addams. watch out the human doesn’t trap ya.”

the imp starts pacing the length of the summoning circle while you look up to meet john’s eye. “that’s quite alright with me, i happen to love the freaks and the depraved.”

john snorts loudly and pulls his cigarette out of his mouth to ash it in a nearby tray, he tilts his head back and looks you up and down carefully where you stand.

“oh you’re gonna be a fun one, luv.”

🔹🔹🔹

“you’re acting very strange ever since that night.”

you sigh quietly as you sit up and push the black sheets off your near-bare figure, the rooms pitch dark with no noise but the quiet tapping of rain on the roof overhead, he’s sitting next to the open french doors with a drink in hand as he stares out across your yard towards your cousins estate. you thought this was the perfect weather for a relaxing evening in but it feels more like you’re trying to force yourself into pastels instead of being romanced.

he turns his head but doesn’t quite watch you stand up and sweep towards him. “…i’m not trying to, luv.”

you stop just behind him, staring down at him as he tilts his head backwards to look up at you through his lashes, the frown on his face deepens. “you don’t even carry a crucifix when you come here anymore.”

at your dejected tone he grunts and looks back down at his cigarette to take a long drag, his stare again fixes on the rain flooded backyard. “…i carried it because i thought you were trying to claim my soul, eat my heart out of my chest or worse.”

“i could do those things if i wanted to, i could bewitch you and drain the life blood from your body drop by drop. is that what it’ll take for things to be normal with us?” you lean down to rest your elbows on the back of his chair, your eyes locked on his as you lean over him.

he frowns up at you and then looks away to blow his smoke, the cigarette hangs loosely from his fingers as his arm drops to his side.

“…(name), i can’t do those things to you in good conscience knowing you’re human. a sort of good human at that.”

you straighten back up at that and turn away from him, even the sound of thunder rumbling outside doesn’t comfort you as john practically spits in your face, it’s as if you’re a different person in his eyes all because you’re not born of fire and brimstone. what happened to the good times had and the fun dates together? the fear and love in his eyes when you were covered in blood? the rituals you performed together? now he’s afraid he’ll hurt you? where was this side of john constantine and why are you seeing it now.

“this isn’t about that, i’m not sure what we even are if you can see me so differently over such a small thing! did i not show you my heart?”

he turns in his chair to stare at you, his brows pinching together as he watches you quickly walk away to sit on the edge of your bed, back facing him as you pull a shirt on. “…you showed me you’re human, (name).”

you don’t even look at him as you speak, just pull on a pair of sweatpants and climb back under the dark sheets. “…if that’s all i am to you now, then i’d like to be alone tonight.”

he stands up and starts to step closer, pushing the canopy drapes aside to peer down at you as he speaks softly in a morose tone.

“(name), i didn’t want to upset-”

“i said alone, john.”

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his nails scratching at his stubble before he wordlessly steps backwards and stalks out of your bedroom, the creaky old door echoes as it falls shut behind him.

🔹🔹🔹

john drops down in his armchair with a loud groan of satisfaction as he cracks open a half and half, some barely-warm curry takeout tucked in the crook of his elbow that he tries to carefully arrange the stuff in his lap, he props his feet up on the coffee table and flicks the tv on.

he nearly spits a mouthful of rice out when he sees his ex partner on his screen, a video of them kicking a man alongside a green skinned red-head and a pale woman wearing a familiar black fur coat. the clip plays over and over while the news reporter drones on about the arrest of one billionaire (name) addams in the streets of gotham for assault with a bladed weapon, when did they wind up in the bats territory? how’d they get the bat to leave them alone?? was that the athame he bought them???

he nearly grabs his phone to call, but then quickly realizes they definitely don’t have it in their possession anymore, maybe he should do a summoning?…..he eyes the painted symbols in the floor on the other side of the room but eventually shakes his head. they’re an adult, they wouldn’t appreciate him bothering them when they’re incarcerated…..definitely not.

| m.list |

🔹🔹🔹

@viilan

[celaenaeiln]

Do you have any fic recs where dicks relationship with the batfam is the focus?

Yes! These are all fics I've adored

FAVORITE!! I place this fic on a pedestal. It's one of the best fics of all time - The primacy of personal conscience

Favorite! Another one of my all time favorites. Dick, Jason, Tim are deaged to their robin eras and Damian and Bruce are in their current ages - Just, How

Dick gets split into three personalities - The choice to be seen

FAVORITE!! - Dick's buried. But like hell is the batfamily going to let it stay that way - The unnecessary requiem

ALL of CamsthiSky's fics focus of Dick's batfam relations and are good reads - Link

Small moments with Dick and the family - Snippets

Dick, Damian, and Tim. Absent parent Bruce and needy Bruce are the same person as always- prodigal

Favorite! Dick and Damian's relationship and evolution - Snapshots

Sad fic if Dick's reaction after Ric was darker - Strength in a Lack of Continuity

Batfamily's reaction to Dick's sexual objectification - I can't hear you, I don't fear you now

Good fic about something I don't remember (sorry! It's been years but I saved it so it must be good) with young justice and batfamily reactions that were accurate - End Days

If Bruce was a lot darker and acted on his overprotective tendencies collection. It's centered around Dick - Darkish Batfamily

How the batfamily reacts to Dick getting shot in the head - Fallen

Dick buys a bunch of plants and bonds with all of them - let your love grow tall

All of Danishsweethearts works are good - Danishsweethearts

Sad fic about Dick being batman again and batfamily's reaction. I think Tim would react differently. Maybe. But it's a fantastic angst fic - My life's going by but it's just begun

Dick, Damian, and Dick's massive group of friend and allies - Missed a spot

Dick's a civilian but he's still their big brother - Those times that Dick Grayson got tangled up with the batfamily

Dick, Peter Parker, Cat Noir, Danny Fenton and their fathers. PS they're all socialite friends. This has to be canon - The Black Tux Gang

Angst story about Dick if he had mental illness. No happy ending - Shattered Tea Cups

Dick is a changed man after spyral and batfamily's reaction - Downward spyral

Someone planning a hit on Nightwing? Not if Nightwing does it on himself first (fun) - Money for daffodils

Favorite! Dick has retrograde amnesia and Bruce struggles to cope - Harbor

Dick died seven years ago. And then woke up - Faith and fate

Dick's secret abilities the batfamily doesn't notice - Unusual skills and habits

The truth of Dick's death and everyone's reaction - Code B

Favorite! Dick is Talon, Tim is Red Hood, and Jason is Red Robin - A New Adversary

Favorite! Jason and Dick are close. Told through the eyes of everyone else - proximity

Soft fic. ABO but Dick acting as Tim and Damian's mother - Your truth is a deception meant to poison me

Dick's gone but the rape of him is not. The batfamily will avenge their brother. The whole world will - Take the night back

ABO robin reversal collection - Robin Reversal ABO

Werewolf au where Dick meets Jason and Bruce comes along - Den and Pack

If Dick got deaged to renegade era - Pause in the Pendulum

Sweet fic about the Batbros seeking comfort in Dick - Haven

Favorite! Duke time! The Batfamily teasing Dick lovingly - Shenanigans

Dark batfam fic around Dick - Gaslight Manor

Dick will do anything to protect his family (Has Constantine/Dick) - Time (to protect you)

If Dick was Terry McGinnis' biological father - Beyond the Night Collection

Talon!Dick in the Teen Titans universe with batfamily - Just a dead kid

Angst, sad fic about Dick getting tired of being the mediator - Please just get along (I can't do this anymore)

One of my all time favorites - Everyday one headcanon about Nightwing

Batfamily mourning the loss of Dick's hair - He's shorn, we're torn

Jason tries stealing in Bludhaven rather than Gotham. He meets Nightwing instead of Batman and his life gets a whole lot better - Hot wheels

Stephanie time travels and meets Robin Dick! - Oops

Favorite! ALL of iloveyourwords' fics - iloveyourwords

Favorite! ALL of ScarlettSwordMoon's works - ScarlettSwordMoon

Angst fic. So much angst. Sometimes Jason's anger gets the worst of him but it's not because he doesn't care - not even rain has such small hands

Favorite! The heroes are forced to forget Dick. And they regret (has constantine/dick/zatanna) - Love that burned green against skin

Favorite! ALL of Kuroaki's works - Kuroaki

Dick, Tim, and Jason watch Encanto and, well, Surface Pressure was made for Dick - Who am I if I don't have what it takes

Pre-robin Dick. Dick's only fault is his over-competence - lightning is the shine (but I've been working on the thunder)

Favorite! Dick's name comes out of the Hogwart's cup. This changes everything and nothing - heavy is the crown

The batkids are unhinged. Poor jason - The AU noone asked for

Dick falls. And so does everyone else (iloveyourwords' fic) - icarus

FAVORITE!! Dick, Jason, Damian undercover on a cruise. Everything goes wrong - Like those foreign stars

YJ where Dick joins Deathstroke and Bruce breaks inside - Fallen son

Favorite! ALL of miss_aphelion's works - miss_aphelion

Here's a starter for miss_aphelion's works - Dick of Troy

Dick and Bruce in the eyes of the JL - Boy on the couch

Favorite! Dick is stuck in his dreamworld and his family just want him back - Happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow

Hunger Games Au! Dick volunteers as a tribute - To get a dream of life again

Dick and Bruce and Dick's graceful manipulation of people - Some men fall from grace. Some are pushed

Dick takes time away from Bruce and finds himself again - Local oldest child takes time away from family

FAVORITE!! One of ScarlettSwordMoon's works - shipping rivalries

FAVORITE!! Dick reveals his trauma through singing - A robin's song

FAVORITE!! Dick's personality gets split in three - Three is a party

Dick runs away to Bludhaven but the batfamily won't let things rest - What stalks in my shadows

FAVORITE!! The batfamily is stuck in a timeloop where they can't save Dick - One thousand, Three hundred, and Nine Hours

Tim being a cute menace and feral Dick - little menace

FAVORITE!! Damian has a few choice words to say about Bruce's treatment of Dick - The threat

Slade saves Dick from the Court of Owls and Rose's view of him - Quiet now, you're going to wake the beast

FAVORITE!! Bruce is gone and Dick is seeing ghosts. The batfamily just wants to protect him - The haunting of Wayne house

FAVORITE!! Deaged Dick and Damian collection - you've always loved the strange birds

Dick's been deaged wakes up in a world with 5 robins no thanks to Slade - persephone's in hell

FAVORITE!! The batfamily's in a time loop trying to save Dick - rewind, remix, retry, redo

Funny fics I'm in love with!

Hilarious and all-around fun - Batbros Wreck Havoc

Favorite! ALL of pupeez4eva's fics but here's a starter for fun - That Torturous Thing Known as Time Travel

More fun fic (can you tell I like the humorous ones?) - A Bunch of Ridiculousness

Don't mess with Dick from Jason's perspective. Jason, Dick, and Bruce - Dig Down Deep

Accurate fic about batfamily's reaction to Dick dating Joey - Families Ever Changing

AU: Justice League meeting Nightwing focusing on Dick, Bruce, and Barry - Starry eyed

(Sorry had to slip another one in) JL's reaction to Dick - Your call may be interrupted

The batfamily will not let anyone take cover pictures of Dick - The annual Bludhaven firefighter's calander for charity

Another JLA story. Dick was a wild child nightmare robin - Adventures in batsitting

[avaritia-apotheosis]

5 Universes Parallel and 7 Perpendicular

Trouble often found Constantine like maggots to a corpse

A DPxDC Crossover // Read on [AO3] [FF.net] // Fic Masterlist

Trouble often found Constantine like maggots to a corpse. 

This time, Trouble’s name went by Danny Fenton. Some random kid— “hey I’m fourteen!” — with an impossible physiology and a soul that not even the most desperate demon or benevolent angel would take. Not because Danny is in any way particularly good or evil, but because Constantine is 99.998% sure the Lords of Hell and the Heavenly Hosts even knew what Danny’s soul even was in the first place. 

(If you could even…call it a soul, anyway. He isn’t sure how he can explain it, and Danny has zero clue at what Constantine’s asking for anyway. “It’s science,” Danny would say with a shrug. “Weird science, anyway. Something about ectoplasm and imprinted consciences and mutations in the DNA. I’m not sure on the specifics, but my parents can tell you.”)

Of course, being lost in another fucking universe probably didn’t help.

He clips another cigar and lights it. Cuban, full-bodied, good blend; he got it as a bonus from some clients a few weeks back and he’d been slowly making his way through the pack. He lets the smoke settle on his tongue before he puffs it out, slinging his legs up to rest on top of the coffee table with a groan. 

Danny scrunched his nose at him, uncrossing his arms to go over and open a window. 

“What?” Constantine rolled his eyes, gesturing to the boy with a cigar. “You don’t get to complain. You don’t even need to breathe.”

“Yeah and smoking still makes everything smell like crap. It’s a terrible habit, y’know.”

He huffs, smoke billowing out, and makes a note to himself to smoke like he’s a goddamn dragon just to annoy the kid. “Hey, I think putting up with a bit of my bad habit is enough compensation for having to help your penniless ass, brat.”

Danny scoffed. “It’s not like I had any choice in that.”

Which was the crux of the matter, of course. See, Constantine has had his fair share of inter-dimensional or inter-planar travel. But shit like parallel universes …well, that was more the Justice League’s purview anyway. All those alternate universes where everything is a distorted mirror of their own reality—and apparently home to way too many evil Supermen to be comfortable with— not exactly Constantine’s cup of tea. He’s had his fair share of experiences with them, but definitely not enough to actually help someone whose universe is nowhere even remotely similar to his own.

Oh, according to Danny his Earth did have a London and an America and a Korea, etc. The majority of their countries were the same, give or take a few that only seemed to exist in Constantine’s universe. But it was the people where they differed.  Remarkably, there was no Justice League in Danny’s world. Or any kind of superheroes at all. ( Like in comic books? Danny had said when Constantine asked.)

As far as Danny knew, he was the closest thing that came to a superhero in his world and half of the time people just consider him a menace.  Even big shot ‘civilians’ like Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, or Oliver Queen were non-entities in that parallel world. Instead they got some creepy asshole called Vlad Masters who should probably get another hobby that isn’t ‘terrorizing a fourteen-year-old.’

But where this strange alternate world lacked in martians and cosmic world-ending threats, they made up for with a shit ton of ghosts. Which brought them to their current predicament: through a ridiculous set of circumstances that Danny really didn’t want to explain, the kid managed to tumble through a rift in the Infinite Realms (something that Constantine hasn’t heard of but you’ll be damn sure he’s gonna make it his business to know) and landed probably five parallel universes and seven perpendicular universes away from  his own earth and right in front of Constantine’s doorstep. (No, those were probably not the correct scientific terms but Constantine was a fucking occultist not a physicist so sue him.)

(Actually, don’t. He’d rather not deal with it.)

Constantine did try his best to do right by the kid. He’d taken Danny’s case up to the Justice League to see if they had the tech that could send the kid home. No such luck at the moment. And even if they did, they weren’t sure if they had the capabilities to connect to not only Danny’s specific branch in whatever cosmic tree was keeping everything afloat, but the correct version of Danny’s universe as well. Constantine’s other contacts said much the same thing.

And since Danny Fenton didn’t exist in this universe, he felt bad leaving the kid alone, so he offered him room and board at his place until they could find a way to get Danny home. (Or until the kid got sick and tired of Constantine’s antics and just moved out.)

(Or until Danny died. Constantine had a pretty bad track record of getting his friends killed by association, y’know. Though considering Danny’s half-ghost… could he even die again?)

(Better not push his luck.)

Constantine set his cigar aside. Danny’s still by the window, elbows propped up on the sill, eyes trained a thousand miles away. No— ‘light-years’ is probably the correct measurement here. 

Constantine rests his chin against his knuckles. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Danny shrugged, chin nestled against his open palm, fingers curled near the seam of his mouth. Nervous nail-biter, maybe? “Just…worried.” His voice is level, but you could feel the anxiety nestled deep within from the sharp staccato of his fingers against the windowsill. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. “I’ve never been gone this long from Amity Park before. It tends to…attract a lot of annoying ghosts, and it’s up to me to make sure their trouble doesn’t get too out of hand.”

“Ah. Define trouble.”

Danny laughs. “It depends on which ghost it is, I guess. Some of the regulars honestly just want to annoy me. There’s the Box Ghost—yeah that’s literally what he calls himself, he controls boxes, no I am not making this up—who should really learn to just stay in the Zone already. I think my record for beating him is like 15 minutes, and 10 of those minutes was just trying to find him. Skulker’s a bounty hunter that’s just dead set—pun intended—on skinning me for my pelt. I don’t know what he’s gonna do with that pelt, and at the rate things are going I don’t think I’ll ever find out. I’ve probably destroyed more of his robot suits than anyone else.”

Some of his rogues want to skin him? Huh. Maybe Constantine should be more concerned about how nonchalant Danny is when describing all of this. “If you got regulars, then that means you also got ghosts that only come in sometimes, right?”

“Yeah…” Danny raked a hand through his hair. “It’s part of the reason why I’m so worried. Those kinds of ghosts have been coming up at an alarming rate recently. Like, the last ghost I dealt with was this guy named Undergrowth. He’s big, green, looks like a giant weed, and is pretty much able to control all plant life. He took control of the entire town and essentially enslaved everyone using mind vines. I literally had to develop a new powerset just to fight him.”

“Huh. Must be tough, having to fight all this on your own.” 

“It is, yeah…but I’m not alone. My friends help me.”

Constantine lowers his feet to the floor. He scoots up to the edge of his ratty old sofa and pats down the spot next to him. “Friends? That’s good, at least. Tell me about them.”

“Well…” Danny let out a sharp exhale, eyes wavering between the window and the empty spot on the couch as if deciding where he’d be more comfortable being at. Eventually, he pushes himself away from the window and tentatively sits down on the couch, fingers drumming against the burgundy cushions. “There’s Sam and Tucker. I’ve known Tucker since forever ago, but the two of us became friends with Sam back in middle school. They were there with me when I, well, became this. And ever since then, they’ve been helping me fight all the ghosts that’ve been coming through the portal.”

There’s a smile on Danny’s lips as he talks about them. Soft but bright. A flash of teeth every time he has to hold back a laugh whenever he suddenly remembers a funny story. He talks about Tucker’s genius with technology, Sam’s interest in the occult,  and how the two of them have a running argument regarding their food preferences. He goes into anecdotes about their adventures, and how so many of Danny’s own victories couldn’t have been done without their help.

“Sounds like you trust them,” Constantine said.

“With my life.” There’s an air of gravity in the way Danny said those words. As if they were an unwavering truth of the universe.

He placed a comforting hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Then trust that they’ll be able to hold down the fort until you get back.”

Danny’s eyes widened a fraction, before he hung his head low, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Suddenly finding himself feeling very awkward at this almost-tender moment, Constantine slapped his knees once and pushed himself off the couch. “Well, best stop your worrying for now, kid. Come on, grab your jacket. Let's go get some Nando’s.”

Danny’s brows scrunched up in confusion. “The heck is Nando’s?”

“Oh you poor, poor, American. Come on, let me introduce you to the wonders that is peri peri chicken.”

Trouble often found Constantine like maggots to a corpse. But maybe this time, he didn’t mind Trouble so much. 

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door ~ 2

A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine. Part 1

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… Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮 Note: I got Constantine on my brain, y'all! 😆 I write about vampire hunters all the time, but never from the vampire perspective. This was new. I hope you enjoy!🧡

2. whoever drinks my blood has eternal life

In the end, he was too late.

Oh, he killed them all, wiping out the entire coven with his magical holy shotgun, and a handy spell that basically burned the remaining undead to a crisp around you.

But you were already half dead, drained and forced to drink their blood in kind.

You were well on your way to becoming one of the Damned.

John knew this, as he cradled your cold body in his arms, carrying you like a bride to the cab outside the warehouse. He knew it as he held you close in the backseat, reciting ancient prayers over your fevered brow, hoping just this once God might grant him a good miracle, and not forsake one of his children just because of an unlucky twist of fate.

Your only crime, as far as he knew, had been extending the mercy of your kindness towards him, and that should not have earned you this.

He barely thanked Chas for a job well done, carrying you bridal style up the stairs of your apartment building. Rather than return you to your bed, he brings you to his. He doesn’t know if the vampire who you must have inadvertently invited into your home died that night, and all his holy weapons are at hand in his own space.

He lays you down in his bed, wishing he’d washed his sheets more recently for you. He wishes a lot of things, in the interim hours that follow.

He can tell that his incantations are not touching the dark magic that is taking hold of you, and he knows that he should just put an end to it here and now. You are damned, and there’s no going back, and who knows what chaos you will reap with your new thirst when you wake?

He can’t bring himself to do it.

Looking down at you, huddled in a ball, trembling as your body is dying and remaking itself anew—he falls to his knees to talk to God, though his words aren’t exactly a prayer. “Our father, who art in heaven…fuck you. I hope you're happy, asshole. Another innocent who you should have protected, fucked over by your stupid games. Why? Why is it always the good ones? I hate you. Amen.”

He takes your hand in his, and only because you are practically unconscious in the fever-pitch of your transformation, does he let his eyes fill with silent tears.

One more soul he was too late to save.

One more weight upon his conscience.

He cries for you. For himself. For the impossible odds God and the Devil pit against humans, then punish them when they're just not up to the task. Flesh is weak, but They made you this way. None of it is fair.

Constantine has never actually been present at a Turning. He doesn’t know how long it will take, or how you’ll act when you come out of it. He has crosses and holy water to keep you in line if he has to…or maybe you’ll rip out his throat, and he will absolutely deserve it after what he let happen to you.

He wonders how the vampires knew about you. Did they watch through the window from some impossible perch, as you made love? Maybe he would never admit it out loud, but that was what that merciful night together had felt like, with you.

This was a hell of a reminder, as to why he couldn’t ever let anyone get close.

It never ended well.

Fully clothed, shoes and all, he spoons your smaller body with his arm around your waist, and waits.

***

When at last you wake, the first thing you are aware of is a heartbeat, right next to you. Behind you. Pressed against you. You hear it like a drum, thundering in your ears. There is a grinding pain in your belly. You are so hungry.

You do not recognize your surroundings, or the bed you lay in. A heavy arm is draped over your waist. You study the large hand upon the sheets, long fingered, veiny. Maybe you know that hand.

Slowly you turn, to find John Constantine beside you. He looks up at your through hooded dark eyes. He was dozing, but no longer.

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath, and the smells that hit you: his aftershave, sweat, deodorant, dirty sheets, scotch whisky in the kitchen. Old Chinese food. But most of all, you can smell his blood, and it is the sweetest thing you’ve ever smelled.

You lean towards him, mouth open, hands reaching.

You don’t know that your incisors have lengthened to deadly little points.

Casually, John holds up a little crucifix between you. You feel it like a hand pressing back against you, and instinctively you flinch.

What is going on with you?

“John?”

You feel something long brush your lip, and you reach up to touch your teeth, finding the sharp points. Your eyes go half-dollar round as you nearly cut yourself with the tip of one.

“What happened to me?”

He sighs, and there is so much weight and sorrow in that one exhalation of air.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“John?” The panic in your voice starts to rise.

“Shh. Don’t get excited. It won’t be good.”

A rampaging new vampire was the last thing he needed on his hands.

“Those things took me,” you whisper, your hand covering your mouth. You start to remember what happened, those creeps who snatched you from your apartment, the impossible things you saw. They were monsters. Vampires. Things you only thought existed in folklore, books, bad B movies. And they’d told you a little about John Constantine too. That he was some sort of demon hunter, crazy as that fucking sounded, who clearly they wished to do harm to.

“Yeah.” 

“They took me,” you repeat with emphasis, still trying to understand.  

A longer pause, pregnant with lots of words you sense he doesn’t quite know how to say.

Again, he settles for, “Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I guess…they thought that you mean something to me.” 

After everything that happened, this hits you like a knife between the ribs, a long sharp blade aimed right for your heart.

“Do I not?” 

“Come on, I didn't mean it like that.” 

Yes he did, and you realize... that maybe he's just like all the others. 

At least he'd warned you. 

You just...had hoped, anyway, like the stupid little romantic you are. 

You look down, unable to meet his eyes. 

You kind of want to cry, but you're not even sure you can anymore. 

“I came for you as soon as I knew,” he says quietly, not liking this at all.

You nod, your lip quivering.

“What's going to happen to me?” 

The haunted way he looks at you rends your heart in two.

“We'll…figure it out.” 

“I'm hungry...I think.”

He nods gravely. 

“I was afraid of that.”

“What am I going to do?” 

“I'll...try to help you.”

Your eyes go to his throat again. The thought should be gross, but...you just feel hunger pangs, instead—and a confusing wave of desire.

He notices the focus of your attention, and looks uneasy about it. Your eyes have started to glow.

“Why don't we start with the wrist?” he deadpans, not enthused about your untried razor-sharp fangs in his throat.

You nod shakily, tears in your eyes. “I'm sorry,” you say. 

There's a flicker in John's soulful brown eyes, and though he says nothing, you feel his guilt as though it's your own. You feel it crawling over your skin, and it scares you. 

What is happening to you? 

“Come on,” he says gruffly. “Let's get this over with.” 

You've seen the movies, and you’re not a total idiot. But the thought of actually...biting him? And drinking his blood? It freaks you out, ok, even if every cell in your body is singing out for you to swallow him down. The smell of him. You'd thought it was intoxicating before. Aftershave, spice, and cigarette smoke. The smoke was good only because it ticked some deep buried memory box in your subconscious. But now...it’s like you can sense the strength of his very soul, in the smell of his blood, and you know he will nourish you. 

These thoughts come to you unbidden, and you don't even really know what they mean. Just... that they are unequivocally true.

You take his wrist, the blue veins there seeming to dance for your new improved vampire vision, as though you can see the blood pumping within them.

This is so fucking weird.

“You’re going to be really strong now,” he cautions you. Then, the corner of his mouth ticks. “So be gentle with me.”

Your eyebrows raise at the thought that you could actually hurt him. This big, strong man who threw you around not so long ago like you were just a doll. You’d loved that, truth be told. The memory is so sweet that it almost makes you want to cry again.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You should do it now,” he says. “Because you’re just going to get hungrier, and young vampires when they’re hungry are at their most dangerous. I’d hate to have to—”

He cuts himself off before finishing that thought. Your eyes drift to his nightstand, the holy water, crucifixes, and a broom handle piece that has been sharpened into a nice neat stake. Just in case he has to shove it through your heart.

“Could you do that to me?” you ask quietly before you can stop yourself, still staring at the stake.

“I don’t want to find out,” he deflects. “So come on. Pull up your big girl panties.”

You glare at him, taking his wrist again. “I think I have a right to be freaked out about this.”

“Sure, but it is what it is,” he fires back unkindly. “You’re a vampire now. You have to drink blood to survive, and you’re Damned. Welcome to the club.”

You frown at him, your eyes flashing dangerously. You notice him tense, his attention flicking over to the stake on the bedside.

“You’re afraid of me now,” you marvel. 

“A little, yeah.”

“And I should be afraid of you? They told me what you are.”

“Let’s agree to have a healthy respect of one another, alright?”

You sit quietly, contemplating him. With his wrist in your grasp you can feel the thump thump of his pulse through your entire body, like bumping bass out of a speaker. It is distracting, and as you think about what you must do a warmth rises in you, a tingling rush of power that spreads from your fingers into his arm. It makes him shudder, his pupils suddenly blown wide with desire.

This feels good. Better than the fear, although you’re ashamed to admit, that had been delicious too.

You don’t know how you’re doing any of this. It’s just happening, and you let your new instinct take you, straddling his narrow hips to find his burgeoning erection straining against his slacks. You are still wearing the sundress those creatures took you in, and nothing but the thin cotton of your panties barricades the space between you and him.

He is so handsome, and strong. His blood smells so strong, and it fills you with an aching desire, wetness flooding between your legs. Suddenly the desire to bite him while he is inside you grips you like an iron fist, some ancient knowledge of arcane pleasure pulsing through your veins. You blink, the urge receding only slightly, and you do not know it but your eyes glow like coals. It’s strange, how your body feels cold, except where your skin is touching his. Your points of contact are almost searing, in comparison.

“Y/n…”

“What?” you taunt him. “You don’t want me now that I’m a monster?”

You can still hardly believe this is really happening to you.

“I think you can feel that’s not the case.”

Again, you sense his fear, cloyingly sweet upon your tongue. You like it, and that is the thing that brings you back to yourself. Wanting anyone to be afraid of you is so opposite your true nature that it shocks you.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” you apologize again, squeezing your eyes closed.

“It’s alright,” he says in that deep voice of his.

It’s not. It’s really not.

“Just…can we get this over with, please?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“He’s not going to help you now, believe me. Just…go slow, ok? Don’t bite me too hard. I need use of my hand still, if you don’t mind.”

You let out a shuddering breath. It feels weird, and you realize…you don’t need to breathe? Taking in air is a reflex, but there’s no effect of your body processing oxygen.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Okay. I’m going to do it.”

“Any day now.”

“Shut up.”

This is the thing that actually makes him smile, that slight curl of lips that is like a full-on grin for most people. Maybe it’s stupid—but it gives you courage.

You graze his skin with your new sharp teeth, and like a beachcomber searching for treasure with a metal detector, you just sense the sweet spot. You move as carefully as you can, pressing down into his flesh to make two neat little holes.

The spill of blood is divine, and you don’t have time to think that it’s gross. It fills your mouth and it is good, and you are so hungry, and you can’t get enough. The magic in this bloodletting rises like a tide, desire crashing over the both of you in a tingling, intoxicating rush. You feel everything, and there is no extricating the sexual pleasure from the gustatory. They are one and the same with this man, his delicious, powerful blood filling your mouth, his strapping body beneath yours, his hips bucking against you.

You feel his hand slide up your thigh, his thumb seeking the molten center of you. When he makes himself stop just short of your panty line you whine in protest, straining for his touch, but he resists your goading, his fingertips digging into your soft flesh. Perhaps you should be grateful, that he is strong enough to resist the pull of this magic between you, trying not to debauch you while you feed for the first time and everything is new and you have no idea what is happening. And yet, you can hardly think past how wonderful it would be to have his teeming erection buried inside you to the hilt while you drink him down.

You would tell him all this, but you can’t bring yourself to separate your mouth from the font of his delectable lifeblood. In fact, you don’t know how you’re going to stop, period.

It’s just so good.

John watches you through heavy lidded eyes, seemingly enjoying this as much as you are. Yet he has more sense of the situation as well, and when he tells you, “That’s enough, y/n,” an inhuman keening of protest escapes from deep in your throat.

“Y/n…” he warns again, his words thick with desire. “You have to stop.”

You close your eyes, telling yourself just one last mouthful.

That was two long sucking draughts ago.

Suddenly you feel a searing heat very near your face. Startled, your eyes fly open to find the crucifix there before you, and you hiss in answer, scrabbling back on the bed away from the holy item. With John Constantine’s blood on your lips you cower, shielding your eyes with a hand.

With a shuddering sigh he lowers the cross, sitting back against the headboard of his bed. He presses a tissue against his wrist, and your eyes are drawn to the crimson stains flowering on the wad of paper beneath his fingers.

What a waste, you think, before shaking the thought away.

Then the horror of what could have happened dawns on you.

You could have drank him dry, and in the heat of the moment you would have done it gladly.

Oh God. What have you become?

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “Are you ok?”

He actually has the gall to smirk at you, as though any of this could be funny. “Yeah. Not the first time I’ve lost a little blood.”

There’s some inside joke in that statement you don’t understand, though you sense the darkness of self-deprecation in it.

Somehow, you feel simultaneously sated, and horrible. With a whimper you curl up at the foot of his bed, closing your eyes against the world. You can feel everything. You sense the people in the building, the fragile sound of their juicy little hearts beating. Even outside, the life on the street, men and women going about their lives with no idea what lurks in the shadows, wanting to eat them up…

But most distracting of all, the sheets beneath you smell like John, and the lust in your blood has yet to abate, even if the feeding is over. You feel it marching across your skin like red-hot ants. The desire to crawl up the bed and press your bloody lips to his is real, and you fight it with everything you have, because you don’t imagine he’d appreciate that very much after what he’s done for you. The sour expression on his face did not match the size of the tent in his pants, that is for sure.  

You wonder, is it going to be like this every time you eat from now on? The thought does not thrill you.

“Hey,” he goads softly, and your eyes fly open to regard him. Again, your irises shine like lanterns, fueled by the roil of emotions warring in your heart. “Come here.” He holds out one of those beautiful hands to you. Hands that you had so relished upon your body, on your flesh, in your hair…hands with such thick, beautiful blue veins…

You’re not sure how he knows that you want to be held, but now you fear it too. You fear what you are, and your ability to control yourself around him. Because the truth is you still want him very much, and he’d basically told you point blank that you mean nothing to him. The thought weighs on your heart now like a thousand stinging needles, and you feel your eyes fill with moisture of some kind.

So, vampires can cry after all.

You touch a finger to the corner of your eye, and see it comes away tinted red.

You kind of want to throw up.

“Maybe…I should go,” you say sadly, sitting up. You’re certain you look as disheveled as you feel. Your hair is a bird’s nest. Your once pretty floral sundress is dirty and torn. No wonder he doesn’t want you.

“If…you want.” Why does he sound sad about it? Shouldn’t he be glad to see the backside of you? Constantine the Demon Hunter? If you’d been nothing but a one-night fuck as a human, he certainly didn’t want to spend time with you now.

 “You know you’re going to need a dark place to rest for the day?”

Is he actually worried about where you’re going to sleep?

“Okay.” You think you can manage that, in your apartment next door. Or maybe…you’ll see what happens, if you watch the sun rise. Maybe it would just be better that way. Are vampire suicides double damned? You’ve never really been a religious person, but he’d said it like it was A Thing.

It reminds you of what John had said earlier. “What did you mean before? When you said join the club?”

He sighs, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the night stand. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Feeling like you’ve now been dismissed, you slide from the bed, standing on bare feet. You should be sore, but your movements are lithe, liquid as a cat’s.

Something else to get used to.

You can feel Constantine’s eyes glued to you, and you dare to take one last look back, waiting to turn to a pillar of salt. He’s so handsome it hurts, even in his rumpled state, his cuffs rolled up his forearms and his tie loose around his neck. How do his soulful dark eyes seem to hold all the sorrow of the world right now?

“Bye, John.”

He just nods, and you let yourself out.

***

Much to your surprise, ten minutes before dawn, you hear a knock on your door. You know it's John. You can tell by the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heart beat. You can smell him, and it is a heady thing in your nostrils. When you do not answer he just lets himself in, the cheeky bastard. 

He finds you sitting in one of your thrift store chairs by the window, one of the only ones not broken in the mess the vampires who took you left behind. He does not like this, you can tell, by his hairline frown. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.”

“Hate to tell you, but you're going to have to find a new way to get your vitamin D.”

“Ha ha,” you say, turning back to the window. A few people are out and about below. This city never really sleeps. 

“Hey,” he says again, crouching down by your chair. “I know this is a lot...”

The look you pay him is not exactly kind. He plows forward anyway.

“But take it from someone who's been there. Hell isn't a place you should be in a hurry to go.” 

You blink at that. He says it like it's so black and white, not a hint of uncertainty. Not faith. Fact. Once upon a time, you might have questioned his sanity. Not anymore. 

“Sounds like you've been.” 

“For about two minutes. It was enough.” 

“What was it like?” you whisper. 

“Pure agony.” 

Your eyes go wide at hearing that. 

“So...want to show me your bolt hole?” he asks.

Once upon a time you would have capitalized on the opportunity for inuendo with such comedic gold just handed to you for free, but you’re not in the mood. You just stare at him.

“John...You're a demon hunter. Why do you care?”

He tries to meet your eyes, but in the end can only look away. “Come on, y/n. Just…don’t give up yet, ok?”

He just feels guilty, you tell yourself, and you pry yourself from your chair with a sigh. You’re not sure what the point of anything will be, anymore. But maybe you’ll make an effort to go on, because he asked you to.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

“Fine.”

You figure the closet will be the darkest place in the apartment for you to hide.

[rafa-jaja]

Asking for your help...(pt2)

Bruce Wayne x Gn reader

You never thought you'd see Wayne Manor again, but here you are...standing in front of the front door, debating whether to knock or not. But before you could decide the door opened, it was Alfre.

- Please, I ask you to come in, we don't want you to get sick from being outside too long in this weather.

- Hello Alfred, you haven't changed a bit.

- Compliment me, wait here please.

You wanted to talk more with Alfred, but you knew that's not why you were here, the truth is you didn't know what you were doing in this place. Every inch of the property brings back bittersweet memories.

Right now you could be in the comfort of your own home, enjoying a nice cup of tea with your cat as your faithful companion. But no, you had to do what Constantin's note said.

Suddenly something knocked you to the floor, it was Tim, he had grown so much since the last time you saw him.

- You're back! you don't know how much I missed you," he said hugging you tightly.

- Tim...I appreciate your love, but your crushing me.

- Sorry, I was really looking forward to seeing you again, how have you been?

You were about to answer him when someone caught your attention, it was Bruce, the bastard hadn't changed a bit. You got up from the floor and faced him.

- I'm going to make something clear, I'm not here for you, I only came because a friend asked me to.

- Understood...while you are in the mansion I would like you to see something.

You simply nodded and followed him to the Batcave, it was the same as the last time you were here. Bruce was looking for something in his files when someone appeared out of the shadows, you didn't know him, but you guessed who he was...he was Bruce's biological son, you had to admit it, he was almost an identical copy of Bruce.

- And who are you? Another super useless one that is going to try to help us?

Yes, he's the same even in sarcasm, but you can't blame him...it's not his fault that his prominent genes are from his paternal side.

- Damian, behave yourself...I'm sorry he didn't mean to be rude.

- Don't worry, I'm not affected by sarcasm.

- Ok...I wanted you to see this, it's the surveillance videos from the bombing a few weeks ago.

On the big computer there were different videos of Talia and her henchmen destroying police stations and attacking civilians, this is one of the many reasons why you withdrew, seeing innocent people suffer always made your heart clench in your chest.

You quickly deduced what this was all about, it seems Bruce and the league have not been able to discover what the target of these attacks is, they attack without any pattern, their next target could be a company or a school.

- We were unable to capture Talia, and she has shown no signs of what her plan is...we have one of her henchmen in custody, and I wanted to ask you to do me a favor-

- To read his mind and figure out the plan, you don't have to repeat everything, just take me to him and let me see what I can do. But I'm only going to do this once, as a favor to the league, nothing more.

When they arrived, some Super who were old companions greeted you, others looked at you with surprise, you knew what they were thinking, you had returned after years. But you only do this to get Bruce off your back and finally have a normal life.

They sat the man down in front of you, without delay you entered his mind, you were surprised to see that there was nothing...he literally had no thoughts of his own, he was like a shell of bones and flesh that followed orders, he had no control or conscience, not even a sense of right or wrong.

- He hasn't spoken since he was caught? - You asked the guard present.

- Nothing, not even a whisper or a threat.

You left the room and went to the conference room.

- Did you finish quickly, did anything happen, did you find out anything useful?

- That man has nothing... he's like a dummy.

Those present were surprised, they couldn't believe what you were telling them.

- A dummy? You're telling me that this man destroyed an entire building...he's a puppet controlled by Talia?

- Yes, I'm afraid there is no information that would be of any help with your case...well, with that said I'm leaving, I've done what you asked me to do, so I hope you will leave me alone from here on out.

No one objected, but the desperation on their faces was evident. When you arrived at your house you expected to finally be able to rest, but great was your surprise to see Constantin sitting in your living room.

- Not that I mind you being in my house, but at least you could call me.

- You know I like to be spontaneous, I like to have the surprise factor.

You let out a little laugh, Constantin is your best friend, he has been with you through thick and thin and has helped you fight your inner demons.

- So? what do you want to do? I don't have any alcohol at the moment.

- The truth is I just wanted to spend some time with you, I know these last few weeks haven't been the best.

- Ok...you want to watch a bad demon movie for a laugh?

- You read my mind.

It was all laughs that afternoon for the two of you, but elsewhere, specifically at Wayne Manor there was someone thinking about you.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Can Bruce put his thoughts about you in order? Does Talia have a macabre plan? Will you have to face your demons again or overcome your past?

Part Three?

[selidren]

De retour !

Bonjour à toutes et tous,

Après un mois compliqué composé de soucis familiaux, problèmes de santé et prise de tête technique, me voici de retour.

J'ai conscience d'avoir été un peu optimiste en promettant de revenir avant la fin avril, mais j'avais oublié le léger détail que je venais de réinstaller mon jeu et qu'il fallait encore l'initialiser, le moder, pleurer sur les packages perdus dans le "déménagement" depuis les vieux dossiers et enfin faire quelques tests avant de reprendre. Mais c'est bon, ma partie a été relancée et la prise de screenshots est repartie de plus belle.

J'annonce donc la reprise de la sim-story vendredi soir, le temps de reprendre à présent l'écriture des dialogues.

A vendredi donc !

Spoilers... RIP les lunettes de Constantin, accessoire que j'aimais tant... et que je n'ai retrouvé nulle part...

[warrioreowynofrohan]

For quite a while, the section “The Bishop in the Presence of an Unknown Light,” was my favourite bit of Les Misérables, and this was my favourite line of that section:

“A cloud had been forming for fifteen hundred years; at the end of fifteen centuries it burst. You condemn the thunderbolt.” [1500 from at little before 1800 gives you somewhere around 300 A.D.; this is far too long to be referring to the Bourbon monarchy - thanks to a friend for the idea that it probably refers to the creation of a state church under Constantine in the A.D. 300s.]

N.K. Jemisin has a line communicating what is, I think, a very similar idea in her Broken Earth trilogy, in a world that is beset by great earthquakes:

When a comm [community] builds atop a fault line, do you blame its walls when they inevitably crush the people inside? No; you blame whoever was stupid enough to think they could defy the laws of nature forever. Well, some worlds are build on a fault line of pain, held up by nightmares. Don’t lament when those worlds fall. Rage that they were built doomed in the first place.

And this us not, in some respects, all that different from what Bishop Myriel himself said in an earlier chapter:

“The faults of women, children, and servants, of the feeble, the indigent, and the ignorant, are the faults of their husbands, fathers, and masters, of the strong, the rich, and the wise…If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.”

As I’ve learned more detail about the French Revolution, I have become unconvinced of the conventionary’s assertion that it “loosened all the secret bonds of society, made the waves of civilization flow over the earth, is the consecrecration of humanity.” If it destroyed the old tyranny and oppression, it replaced it with a new tyranny and oppression (actual several new ones, from the partisan purge to the ‘managed democracy’ to the military dictatorship); if it removed the old religious intolerance, it replaced it with a new religious intolerance. It was more willing to kill people for following their consciences than the regime of Louis XVI that preceded it, and it encouraged ordinary people to kill not rich oppressors but ordinary neighbours (ref: Murder in Aubagne by D.G.M. Sutherland, a case study on the cycles of violence that came from it becoming socially normal to kill your neighbours for being associated with a different form of republicanism than yourself, and then normal to even kill anyone who agreed with you politically but objected to the murdering).

You condemn the thunderbolt, is, I think, the more convincing assertion - if pressure builds up to a certain point, it will break, like a dam, and the primary blame lies with those who allowed it build up to that point. The argument is not that the dam breaking is the ideal, but that under certain circumstances it is inevitable. Oppression should be fought; reform should be made, firstly for its own sake became it is good and necessary and just and compassionate, and secondly to avert the damage the thunderbolt would do to the innocent; and if that reform is not happening fast enough, the answer is not to say to the suffering, “Be patient!” but to say to the powerful, “Move faster!”

[thepaleys]

In the fall of 1902, the tsar’s youngest uncle, Grand Duke Paul, had actually run away to Paris, taking with him suitcases holding three million rubles. Paul suffered from periodic nervous breakdowns and never seemed able to put his life together in a constructive fashion. Now he had decided to marry a new love, his mistress, a divorcee, Olga Pistolkors, whom the family considered not only an outrageously inappropriate choice for Paul, but also an unattractively ambitious, even brazen woman. A commoner and, in the judgment of many, a “fornicator,” she had appeared at a Winter Palace ball wearing diamonds bequeathed to Paul by his mother, the late Empress Maria Alexandrovna. Every Romanov recognized imperial jewels. Minnie demanded that Madame Pistolkors be expelled from the party and the chamberlain thereupon asked the woman to leave, causing an immense scandal.

She was said to have Paul completely under her thumb. When Nicholas heard the news that Paul had eloped, he exploded with rage. Paul had given his word he would not do so. Paul’s brothers were also fiercely indignant. Vladimir wrote to Sergei: “He [Paul] has behaved shamelessly as a member of our family and as a military man. His behavior cannot be called anything but criminal. And to her I said plainly that if she will become the wife of my brother, I will turn my back on her and she will never in life see my face again. What will become of him? How will he be able to live the life of an outcast? What will become of the children? My heart is heavy, my head is empty. . . . I repeat to you that I am crying for help and I embrace you with my heart filled with sadness.”

Minnie wrote to Nicky of her indignation. “He [Paul] has forgotten everything, all his fundamental obligations, his children, country, service, honour, everything, he has sacrificed everything for that stupid woman, who is not worthy of it. . . . He’s simply throwing dirt at our family! Awful, awful!”

Nicholas stripped Paul of his army rank and grand ducal income. Despite his exile in France, the millions he took with him ensured that Paul could live comfortably. His house in Paris became a center for the local Russian colony and his wife, now using the foreign title of Countess Hohenfelzen, could play a queenly social role, freely associating with members of the imperial family who were visiting France, so little were the laws of the family and the authority of Nicholas II respected.

The tsar wrote his mother about Paul: “How painful and distressing it all is and how ashamed one feels for the sake of our family before the world! What guarantee is there now that Kyril won’t start the same sort of thing tomorrow and Boris or Sergei Mikhailovich the day after? And in the end, I fear, a whole colony of members of the Russian Imperial Family will be established in Paris with their semi-legitimate and illegitimate wives! God alone knows what times we are living in, when undisguised selfishness stifles all feelings of conscience, duty or even ordinary decency!”

Other older members of the family also shook their heads and worried about the younger ones, who seemed only to want the royal life of luxury without accepting the responsibilities it should entail.

"The Flight of the Romanovs" - John Curtis Perry and Constantine V. Pleshakov

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted - One Step Forward (Chapter Nine)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

A couple of mornings later, Liam stood beside Madeleine with bright lights blinding his vision. They were arriving at an early interview with an international broadcast team to spread awareness of their upcoming union. They made their announcement of the updated tour a few days prior, and the public was very receptive. Constantine, Regina, Adelaide, and Godfrey all presented a united front for the cameras with Liam and Madeleine; the only one who seemed opposed was Godfrey, who said it was a ‘wasted opportunity’, but still went along with the majority and showed his support. 

Ever since, Liam found himself incredibly uneasy. He knew it was a bold move, but hoped having everyone rally behind him would work to his advantage. So far, he had been correct in his assumption. However, he realized that could easily change at the drop of a dime. The current moment of peace was incredibly unsettling as everyone waited on pins and needles; the fear of the unknown, along with the plethora of endless unanswered questions, ran rampant through his mind. Despite his attempts to portray himself as a strong, dominant leader, he knew those closest to him could see right through the cracks.

Liam met Ray briefly the night before. He and Olivia explained everything they were working on and Liam couldn’t believe so much went by them. Even Olivia expressed the same notion, but they both agreed that having Ray in their corner gave them a sense of relief. Although, the stress of a rebuttal heavily loomed on everyone’s conscience; all they could do was follow the leads they had, and hope for the best.

As they entered the studio, a boisterous voice caught Liam’s attention. They hollered at a few stagehands close by, drawing the attention of everyone around. “Do you not recognize this beautiful face? Let me in, baby doll. I need to get to my brother.” 

The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you in without authorization.”

“I’m sure you can make an exception, can’t you?” 

“No, I can’t–” 

“Cummon… I know you know who I am, or who I used to be, anyway…” 

“I apologize, but I can’t just–”

Liam approached and gave the woman a sheepish smile. “My sincerest apologies, but he is with me.” The woman flushed, but nodded and stepped aside.

“My man!” Liam suddenly found himself enveloped in a tight hug, his feet nearly lifting off the floor. “It’s so good to see you, Li.” 

“You as well, but what the hell are you doing here, Leo?” 

Leo flashed a smile as he pulled away. “I got a call from a little bird who said and I quote, ‘your brother needs some kind of emotional reinforcements; please come and assist before his tears stain all of my clothes’.” 

Liam chuckled before he asked, “Liv?” 

Leo nodded. “Yup. She did not give me details, however…” 

“I’ll fill you in as soon as possible, but we have to be careful.”

“Say less. How are you, man?” Leo took in Liam’s tired eyes and slightly slouched posture, and knew he wasn’t doing the best. However, Leo could admit Liam must have stepped up his stoicism game; if Leo didn’t know exactly what to look for, he would be oblivious to Liam’s struggle just like everyone else. 

“I’m fine, Leo.” Leo stared at Liam with a knowing expression. Liam let out a slight huff and emphasized, “I am, I mean – my mind’s racing a million miles an hour at all times with a plethora of what ifs, but…” 

“We need to catch up properly later, brother.” 

“That we do, Leo.” Liam gave him a sad smile before Leo pulled him into another hug. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot, especially now.” 

“I always got you, Li, always.” Leo tightened his grip on Liam. 

The stagehand from before approached the pair and timidly spoke, “Sir? They’re ready for you.”

The brothers stepped away from each other and Leo playfully punched Liam on the arm. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Liam walked away with a small smile and made his way back over to Madeleine. Madeleine made eye contact with Leo; she narrowed her eyes and visibly clenched her jaw, to which Leo smirked and blew her a kiss. 

They ushered Liam and Madeleine around the studio and sat them on a couch in a small, but ornate set. The only other people in the vicinity were the camera crew, Leo and Penelope. Liam was undeniably tense, but knew this was what needed to happen; at least until they could get a solid lead, pointing them to what transpired with Riley. He had no other choice but to conform and show whoever was holding the cards that he was playing along.

After only a few moments, a tall woman with a slender frame appeared and bowed to the pair. “Your Majesties, I am Vivica Whittaker, a lead reporter for the International Gazette. It’s an honor to be here with you.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Whittaker. We’re thrilled to be here. Aren’t we darling?” Madeleine asked Liam, her face trained in a bright smile.

“Of course,” Liam replied, trying to mimic her elated expression. 

“Let’s get started, shall we? I understand you were on an international engagement tour, but decided at the last minute to stay in Cordonia. Can you explain the thought process behind that?”

“We have decided for the greater good of Cordonia we are going to tour our homeland. International support is important to us, and we plan to go on our intended venture at some point. However, we feel we need strength within our borders first.” Liam answered. 

“We hope that by doing so, the people will see us as the united front that we are.” Madeleine beamed at Liam, the sight causing his breakfast to roll in his stomach. “Cordonia is our number one priority.” 

“How is that going? Are the two of you enjoying your travels?”

“Indeed, we are,” Madeleine claimed. “It’s like living a fairytale every day with Liam. He makes me feel special and valued, like I’m the only woman who’s ever mattered.” 

“What a special connection the two of you must have! Your Majesty, do you have anything to add?” 

“I echo Countess Madeleine’s sentiments,” Liam responded in a flat tone. He wanted to scream his true feelings for all to hear, but kept his intrusive thoughts at bay. He cleared his throat and quickly added, “The sudden changes have gone over well, and we are thankful for that. To our international counterparts, I’d like to once again extend my sincerest apologies, and we hope you’ll consider joining us.”

“How do you balance your work and personal life, sir? I understand the busy life of a monarch, and I’d assume it would be fairly difficult to find the time to spend with your fiancé.” 

“I make it work.” 

“He’s being modest. He continuously blows me away, making sure I know just how much he loves me.” Madeleine reached for Liam’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “I know how much he cares, and that’s all that matters.” 

“You two are couple goals!” Vivica clapped her hands. “But I have to address the — elephant in the room.” She spoke to Liam specifically. “The night of your coronation, you chose a different suitor in front of Countess Madeleine. Can you tell me what was going through your head at that moment, and how it has affected your current relationship?” 

Liam could only stare at the woman before him. The lighting suddenly felt like infrared, beating directly down on his face. Sweat drenched his brow in an instant, and moisture gathered in the palms of his trembling hands. He counted to ten to steady his rapidly thumping heart, swallowed thickly, and responded in the calmest manner he could. “A lot was going through my mind that night and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t see the answer sitting right in front of me the entire time, and I regret not seeing it for so long…” He trailed off.

Although he hoped it was a vague answer, the truth the statement held momentarily hit Liam like a ton of bricks – because it was true, just in a different context. Until he opened his eyes to the truth, questions about that night were easy to divert; now, it was simply a daily reminder, a constant trigger for his unending guilt. He momentarily let himself get lost in the never-ending sea of things he didn’t do or neglected, further letting this chaos fuel itself.

Madeleine noticed his forlorn expression and babbled to direct attention back to herself. “He’s more than made up for his errors in judgment since then, and I hold no animosity toward him. What kind of woman would that make me if I did, Vivica?”

Vivica looked at Madeleine in awe. “You truly are such a role model. Let me ask what your thoughts are about the scandal against Lady Riley. She was one of the top contenders, some even saying above you before her scandalous departure.”

Liam visibly tensed beside her, but Madeleine straightened her posture and smoothly answered, “We have since moved on from that as well. We truly hope Lady Riley and Lord Tariq are happy, and we thank them for ridding themselves of our court.” 

Madeleine shook her head and studied Liam with tears dancing in her eyes. “I can’t believe she would do such a thing to the people who gave her a life here. She betrayed her future King; he did nothing wrong, all he did was offer her the world. For her to throw it away, throw him away, as if he was irrelevant breaks my heart. But I’m thankful in the end; I’m the one who got to pick up the pieces.” She stroked his cheek, her vacant, calculated stare piercing into his soul.

Liam had to use all of his willpower to force a smile. Her touch felt like slime; it took every ounce of strength not to slap her hand away. He knew she was good, but not this good – if he didn’t know any better, he would believe her, too. 

Vivica peered at them with longing eyes. “I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say I’m glad everything worked out in the end. Where is your next stop on your engagement tour?”

“The next official event is in Portavira. However, tonight I will celebrate our upcoming nuptials with my closest confidants at my bachelorette party.” Madeleine smiled. 

The rest of the interview concluded without incident, nothing exciting or newsworthy; it was mostly Vivica and Madeleine speaking of the wedding arrangements, as well as Madeleine discussing her plans as a future monarch. Liam interacted when appropriate but stayed silent otherwise. Although he carefully kept the appearance that he was listening to the women as they animatedly spoke before him.

When the questions concluded, Liam quickly stood and made his way over to Leo, who was talking to a brunette beside the refreshment table. Liam cleared his throat as he approached, and Leo shooed the woman away. “You didn’t have to do that, Leo.”

“Nah, she was killing my vibe, anyway.” Leo snickered. “Dude, I almost thought you really loved Madeleine. Like, wow. You guys are fucking convincing!”

“Thanks, I guess.” 

A bout of silence overtook the brothers as Leo tried to think of what to say. He remained unsure of what was going on, as they hadn’t received the chance to speak in a private setting. “Hey, Li, did I hear her right? It’s her bachelorette party tonight?”

“Yep.” Liam slightly chuckled. “It’s not funny, but… Olivia has to go.” 

Leo howled with laughter. “What do you mean ‘not funny’?! That’s hilarious!” 

“She doesn’t think so. I believe her exact words were, ‘We’ll see if I make it through the night without making a kabob out of her’.’’ 

“Good. Saves us a lot of trouble.” The brothers shared a small laugh, but another stillness came shortly after. “Li, if the devil is gonna be busy anyway, let’s go do something, man; take your mind off all this bullshit.” 

“I’ll try, but–”

“No, no buts. You need to get out of here for a bit; let your hair down, and try to relax.” 

Liam scoffed. “Relaxing is the last thing I should do right now, Leo. You don’t understand what’s been going on–” 

“Exactly! How can I help if I don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with?”

“You’re… right…” Liam sighed, as he truly considered the offer. “Okay, we’ll do something later.” 

“Way ahead of you, brother. Figured you’d need an escape after a morning of press ops, so I booked us a spa for the afternoon. Even secured enough spaces to bring Max and Drake along.” 

Before Liam could respond, Madeleine’s voice rang out through the nearly deserted studio. “Penelope! Where the hell is my lemonade?!” Both watched Penelope scurry toward Madeleine and timidly offer her the drink. Madeleine took a sip and practically threw it back at her. “What is that?! I asked for sweetened, you imbecile!” 

Penelope shrieked as the cold liquid covered her face and drenched her hair. “I–I–” 

“I–I–” Madeleine mocked. “FIX IT!” she bellowed, causing Penelope to flinch and run away.

Leo scoffed. “Wow.” 

“Tell me about it,” Liam answered. “All day, every fucking day.”

“So we have upgraded ultra cunt to super duper ultra cunt? Free of charge?” 

“Unfortunately, so. This is mild compared to some of the things I’ve witnessed. Once, she made Penelope cut her skirt and put it on the ground so she wouldn’t have to walk through a puddle.” Liam rolled his eyes. “She’s absolutely out of control.” 

“Why’s Penelope letting her treat her that way?” 

Liam shrugged. “I would guess to appease the soon-to-be Queen and try to stay on her good side.” 

“That seems extreme.” 

“If the past couple of weeks have taught me anything, it’s that nobles will go to extreme measures to get what they want…” Liam trailed off, an air of sadness and regret notable in his tone.

Leo clapped Liam on the back, reassuringly squeezing his shoulder. “Come on man; fuck them, fuck the court, let’s go relax.” 

Liam sighed. “Leo, I want to, but I need–” 

“You need to relax for a bit, Li. Spend some time with your brother. Whatever is going on, Olivia is handling. Let her do her thing, and let’s unwind a bit.” 

Liam remained hesitant to agree, but Leo made a valid point. Plus, the thought of being away from everyone telling him how to act and who to be sounded incredibly cathartic. A small smile crept onto his face and he finally answered, “Alright, let’s go.” 

“Bet, I’ll call tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb.” 

Liam and Leo met up with Drake and Maxwell a short time later and made their way over to the spa Leo reserved. As they arrived, everyone started in a changing room, where they shed their clothes and wrapped themselves in warm towels. A staff member led them to a big, ornate room with one larger pool in the middle and another smaller one to the side. 

They lowered themselves down into the bigger area, each letting out a content sigh of relief. Liam reached for the tray of drinks that was left for them and passed them around to the group.

Leo sighed as he sat back and took a long swig from his glass. “You know, this cider is still one of the best spirits I’ve tasted – and I’ve sampled a lot.”

“I don’t think being an alcoholic classifies as bragging rights.” Drake retorted. 

“Ha!” Leo howled. “Are you fucking kidding me, Mr. ‘all I drink is whiskey’?”

“Whiskey isn’t just alcohol, it’s art – thank you very much.” 

“It’s alright, but what about literally anything else?” 

“I don’t need a pussy drink to get a buzz,” Drake responded with a shrug. 

“What about my pineapple paradise punch? You love that, right?” Maxwell asked, his expression hopeful.

“Nope, sure don’t. I only drank it last time because you hid all the whiskey, didn’t you?”

Maxwell sank further into the pool. “No……”

“Mm hmmm, bullshit. I’m on to you, Beaumont. I’m lucky I didn’t start my period drinking that frilly shit!” 

“Man, I remember the last time I had that stuff. Well, barely…” Leo recalled as he stared off into space with a crooked smile. 

“Yeah, isn’t that when you got caught with your pants around your ankles behind the staircase at your last Bash?” Liam chimed in as he hid a mischievous grin behind his glass.

Leo’s eyes shot open, his jaw dropping instantaneously. “Dude! You swore you’d never tell!” 

Liam snickered. “I didn’t tell them — you did, right after it happened.” 

“For real?” Leo asked Maxwell and Drake. 

“Oh, yeah.”

“Big time.” 

“Huh…” Leo raised his glass and took a sip. “Well, no shame in my game, I guess.” He said with a shrug. “Needed to rub one out and I couldn’t find a decent selection. It was that, or try to get it up for Maddy.”

“That’s still pretty fuckin’ weird,” Drake responded with a mortified expression. 

“No, what was strange was when he continued even after being caught,” Liam interjected with a shudder. 

“What was I supposed to do?! Put it away?” 

“Uh, yeah… Regina was absolutely mortified.”

Drake downed the contents of his glass in one gulp. He forcefully sat it down next to him and stood. “On that note, I’m gonna hit the cold plunge for a bit; soothe my bones.” 

“Alright, Grandpa.” Leo chided. 

“Fuck you, Rys.” 

“Can I come?” Maxwell asked with a hopeful expression. 

Drake pondered it as he looked from Liam to Leo and sighed before he finally relented. “Fine. But I swear to God – if you say one word about a goddamn peacock–” 

“I won’t!” Maxwell exclaimed as he climbed out and ran toward the smaller pool. Drake reluctantly followed behind, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as he went. 

Liam and Leo laughed at Drake and Maxwell’s antics before a tense silence came over them. Liam submerged himself in the water and lay with his neck against the edge, trying his hardest to let the gentle ripples wash his worries away. Leo racked his brain, trying to calculate how to approach the conversation that brought him here; Olivia gave no information over the phone, but he knew if she was calling, it was something serious. Leo also recognized Liam would not reach out for help; even if he was on fire and needed water, Liam would suffer in silence and shoulder the burden alone. 

Leo was there to ensure that did not happen, no matter what.

Leo drained the contents left in his glass and sat it down before he started, “So… Seems like you’re a little on edge...”

Liam scoffed. “That’s an understatement.” 

“Oh? Anything you want to talk about?” 

Liam sighed and sat up. He kept his gaze on the pool water in front of him as he softly answered. “I just have so many unanswered questions…”

“Riley?” Liam nodded, so Leo continued. “What exactly happened?”

Liam cautiously looked around the room, leaned in, and quietly told Leo everything they knew. He left out the grimy details regarding the maid’s murder, but redacted nothing otherwise. When he finished, Leo stared wide-eyed into the pool in front of him, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “Wow…”

��Yeah… I can’t wrap my head around everything. I knew something was off, but I let everyone around me convince me I was wrong to feel that way.”

“You mean father?”

Liam nodded with a remorseful expression. “Yes, along with Madeleine, Regina a few times, and not to mention the tabloids. I look back now and wonder how I could have been so stupid, so blind to the truth.” 

“Look, I know how relentless our father can be. How do you think I ended up engaged to Madeleine? I didn’t pick her because I wanted to — I chose her because he made me feel like I had to. He hounded me day and night about it. Again, why do you think I was constantly escaping from Bastien?” 

“I know you understand how he can be. But once again, I feel like I’m being backed into a corner. Even with the alternative route on the tour, we’re still running out of time and we’re no closer to getting answers than before. I know I must marry Madeleine, but how can I even fathom such an idea when there’s a very good possibility someone plotted to put her there?”

“You think that was their goal?”

Liam finally turned his gaze from the pool in front of him to Leo. Leo saw a world of emotions flicker through Liam’s eyes, his bright blue orbs darkening to nearly black. The unending rage he felt flourished; coursing through his body and creating a tidal wave of unaddressed emotions.

“Absolutely. It’s the only theory that makes any kind of sense. Someone removed Riley from the situation and either staged or altered pictures to paint the scene that she left to be with Tariq. Someone blackmailed Olivia to force her away, and she would have been my second choice; Madeleine essentially won by default. In the two months between the coronation and the beginning of the engagement tour, nothing happened because I played right into their bullshit. Once I started asking questions and poking my nose around, they started eliminating loose ends.”

“That makes sense… you said something about a guy you hired?” 

“Yes, but keep that between us. Bastien doesn’t even know his true intentions; nobody does besides a select few I know I can trust. I can’t risk another incident like with the maid; we can’t lose any more leads. He’s checking into the source of the article with Olivia and attempting to locate Tariq and Riley. Until he uncovers something or the forensics comes back, there’s nothing we can do.” Liam quietly answered and turned his gaze back to the pool in front of him, the dark clouds of despair threatening to take over once again.

A silence overcame them as Leo tried to figure out how to respond. However, Liam spoke again before he could. “Leo… the more time that passes, the more I feel like something truly terrible happened that night. There’s no reason for either of them to be completely untraceable. I mean, you know Tariq! The man is practically fucking useless out in the real world! There’s just no way…” He shook his head. “I can’t fathom it. Where did they go? Why hasn’t Bastien been able to find them?”

“Well, Li, you and I both know Bastien is kind of stupid. He didn’t even make running from him that hard, to be honest. That guy has the capabilities of a premature fucking kitten.” 

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Liam slightly laughed. “I know… but I’m hopeful Ray, er, Harold, will find something, anything leading to her whereabouts. I care about locating Tariq, but Leo – I need to see that she’s okay. As much as I hate to think about it, I know someone injured her before she left. That maid told us she was unsteady but seen walking down the hall, so I guess it’s reassuring that nobody carried her out, at least.” He spoke just above a whisper, his tears threatening to flow freely. 

“Liam, I know what kind of pressure you were, and are still under. I understand, more than most. Honestly? I don’t know what I would have done in that situation; it’s an impossible thing that nobody should have to face.” Leo shrugged. “But… the most important thing is you’re doing what needs to be done, and that’s what matters now. We’re going to find them, Li, I just know it.” 

“I… I’m trying to stay hopeful, Leo, I really am…”

Leo nodded with a sad grin before he quietly started again. “Liam… brother to brother… tell me, in all reality, are you going to marry Madeleine?” 

Liam sighed and remained silent for a long while to gather his thoughts. “I–I’m not sure at this point. I don’t want to, but I know it is what’s expected of me.” 

“Who says?”

“Tradition dictates that–”

“Liam, fuck tradition.” Leo interrupted. “You did what you were supposed to do to ascend the throne; from there, it’s your call what happens. I know you want to do right by those who have worn that crown before you, and I get that, I do – but you can pave your own way and do things how you see fit!” 

Liam looked at Leo with a torn expression. He opened his mouth to respond but was silenced when Leo spoke again. “Liam, you are in control here, not anyone else. You can do whatever you want! You don’t have to let our father, or anyone else, dictate what you do. If you want to follow your heart and say fuck it all, there’s not a lot anyone can do to stop you!”

“What if people doubt me? What if the court questions my decision-making? Because as rough as it is to admit, you and I both know Madeleine would make a decent Queen! And they already think I’m unstable because of what happened at my coronation."

“Liam, fuck what people think. You’ve spent your entire life bending over backward for the throne, even when it wasn’t yours to inherit. You’ve never done a single goddamn thing for Liam. I heard stories about you and Riley during the season, and I wish I had been around to see it. I saw pictures of the two of you from the Regatta and I have never seen you so happy. If that happiness is within your reach, I want you to take it. Fuck everyone else.”

Liam didn’t respond, only kept his vision to the pool in front of them. Leo took in Liam’s dejected expression and added. “I also know about a certain clause that could be useful if you were to see fit…” 

Liam sighed. “Trust me, I’m familiar with it. A part of me wants to call off the rest of the tour and the engagement alike, but I know that won’t help us figure out what happened to Riley. I’m convinced someone in the court is responsible, and to disperse them would make this more of a nightmare. For now, I must act as if I truly intend to marry Madeleine. I’m at least trying to project that I’m okay with it, but – you and I both know how she is, especially with a Crown in her sights.”

“Boy, do I.” Leo guffawed. “Listen… I understand why you’re continuing for now, but that doesn’t mean you have to go through with the wedding. You already know what to do to call it off; the only thing stopping you is yourself.” 

“I just hope we can get some answers before I have to decide,” Liam responded with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Liam…If I never would have abdicated…”

“If you never would have abdicated, I never would have had a social season, which means I never would have gone to New York and ultimately never met Riley. She’s the greatest gift life has given me… All I can pray for is her safety, wherever she may be,” Liam replied with a sad smile. 

Leo placed a reassuring hand on Liam’s shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out, Liam. I’ll do whatever I can to help you, and I’ll do the absolute most to keep dad off your ass.”

Liam half laughed and pulled Leo into a tight hug. “Thank you, Leo. It means the world that you dropped everything to come here for me.”

“That’s what big brothers are for,” Leo replied as he squeezed Liam tighter, hoping to calm his brothers’ heavy anxieties. He didn’t know what he could truly offer, but regardless, he was going to provide Liam with a sense of grounding; when the weight got to be too much, Leo would be there. 

As Liam and Leo released each other from their embrace, Drake stalked toward them with Maxwell trailing behind. His face was red with exasperation and he walked with his hands balled at his sides, determination in his steps.

“Okay, I’m done entertaining Maxwell. Hope you two had a touching family bonding moment, but it’s over now.” Drake griped as he reached them. 

“Oh, come on! I didn’t even mention peacocks!” Maxwell pleaded. 

“No, but I shouldn’t have to tell you I don’t care how comfortable your nuts feel in your goddamn underwear!”

“They’re ball hammocks! I’m just trying to help you out!”

Liam and Leo shared a laugh at their nonsense. After some extra time at the spa, they agreed to rest and have dinner later. Liam smiled, knowing Madeleine should have already left for her festivities by now, so at least he knew he shouldn’t have to deal with her until morning. However, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing as he wondered how Olivia and Ray were faring, and if they had come across any answers. 

Olivia bobbed and weaved her way through the mass of people in the high-end lounge hosting Madeleine’s party, Ray not far behind. Although this was the last place she wanted to be, she knew it was time to make her presence known; she was ready to go back into the lion’s den and rejoin the court. 

So far, the search for Riley and Tariq brought no leads. Ray reassured Olivia that he still had places to look, but that only calmed her flourishing uncertainties for so long. On the plus side, he worked his magic and had insurmountable success with the article. 

Ray hacked into multiple accounts and finally landed inside the photographer’s correspondence. The woman was merely a paparazzi and posted everything using a public computer. It was tricky, but he not only found the digital receipt for the bank transfer, but also the initial message requesting service. They offered a hefty payday, as well as detailed instructions for entering the estate and what specific shots would be required; attached at the end was a word-for-word story written out, only missing an author’s name. A comparison showed them the finished product mimicked what they sent word for word. When he tried to look into the sender’s information, Ray could not trace it; firewalls and other encryptions blocked him at every turn. Regardless, he stumbled upon a golden piece of evidence. 

Ray deciphered the receipt and collected the account number of the sender. From there, he transferred the information to a well-trusted associate; someone Olivia had used herself for aid in the past. The goal was to attach a name to said account and then – they would finally have a solid lead. 

Olivia was confident an answer was looming in their near future — it was so close she could practically taste the satisfaction of the victory on her tongue. In the meantime, it was time for her to ‘show her support’ and play pretend, the same as Liam. Olivia and Ray couldn’t think of anything else they could accomplish or uncover in the shadows; it was time to broaden their spectrum and test the waters of the nobility, starting with the other former suitors.  

Olivia approached the table where the ladies were sitting and put her hands on her hips. “What a coincidence running into you here, Countess.” She chided.

Madeleine visibly tensed. “Olivia? What are you doing here?” 

“Surprised to see me? Perhaps that’s because I didn’t receive an invitation to this little soiree.”

Madeleine clenched her jaw as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Can you blame me? Why would I want you here?” 

“Well, first off, let’s not forget who the first choice was...” 

Madeleine’s jaw fell to the floor. “How dare you,” she turned from her usual shade of porcelain to ruby in an instant, her annoyance escalating rapidly.

Olivia smiled warmly. “I didn’t mean it as a slight, my dear Maddy… I’m only stating facts. Regardless, you’re welcome.” She batted her eyelashes with an innocent expression. 

“I owe you nothing,” Madeleine growled with narrowed eyes. “Why don’t you go crawl back to Lythikos and stab a tree, or some other barbaric nonsense that your kind practices?” 

Olivia snickered. “Come on, Maddy, you know as well as I do that it's tradition for all the suitors to attend the engagement festivities. I’m only doing my part...” 

Madeleine rolled her eyes. “Your presence is unappreciated, but noted. You may leave – now.” She emphasized, trying to shoo Olivia away with her hand.

Olivia howled with laughter but stopped as she took in Madeleine’s intent gaze. “Oh, you were serious?” 

“Absolutely!” 

Olivia plopped herself down at the booth. “Well, unfortunately for you, I do what I want. Now, what are we talking about, ladies?” 

Madeleine growled and mumbled something under her breath, but Olivia couldn’t make it out. Kiara and Penelope shared hesitant looks, both seeking permission from Madeleine to speak. Olivia ignored their silent conversation as she realized something; even without Riley, they were still missing a suitor. 

“Where’s Hana?”

“Who?” Madeleine answered, avoiding eye contact.  

“Hana… Hana Lee.”

“Oh! Right! Hana!” Madeleine exclaimed after a long moment. “I extended the invitation, but unfortunately, she declined to attend.” 

“Did she say why?” 

“No, she didn’t.” Madeleine eyed Olivia suspiciously. “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t,” Olivia snapped. “I was only making an observation, is all.” 

“Humph.” Madeleine lifted her nose to the sky and crossed her arms, turning her body away from Olivia. The three women quietly spoke amongst themselves, intentionally excluding Olivia; not that she cared. The only reason she was there was because she knew it would be heavily publicized, and true to fashion, the reporters snapping photos of them inside at random moments proved her theory to be correct. Since she was absent from the first few events, she figured jumping in with this ‘intimate gathering’ would show she was going along with the ruse as well. 

Throughout the night, the ladies attempted to put space between themselves and Olivia, but she would promptly follow them. Kiara seemed less off-put, even trying to converse a few times. Penelope, however, wouldn’t even make eye contact, let alone speak to Olivia. In a couple of occurrences, Olivia caught Penelope intently watching her. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before Olivia noticed, and she lost count of how many times it happened. The expression she wore each time piqued Olivia’s interest; equal parts curious and apprehensive. 

The ladies bounced their way around the dancefloor most of the night. Olivia didn’t join, but stood still as a statue close by with Ray not far away, intently watching their every move. At one moment, Ray tapped her shoulder and attempted to tell her something, but Olivia couldn’t hear him over the surrounding commotion. He motioned to a side door and pulled her to it before Olivia could protest; the noble ladies slowly fading from view. 

As they made it outside, Ray studied the area to secure their privacy. “What’s going on?” Olivia tentatively sought. 

“I got the details on that account.” 

“And?” 

“We have a name.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for games, Harold. Spit it out.” She snapped, her patience quickly dissipating.

“Penelope Ebrim,” Ray answered with utmost confidence. However, Olivia started laughing, hard enough that tears were forming in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m serious, look.” Ray reiterated, holding his device to her. He showcased a comprehensive report on all incoming and outgoing transactions from their target and started listing them off. “Charity donation, coffee, coffee, dog food, a hefty charge to some online place called ‘American Girl Dolls’, but here, this one –” He pointed to a specific line. “– The date matches, the account numbers match, and it’s the exact amount offered in that correspondence.” 

“Ho-ly shit…” Olivia gasped. Out of everyone who could have been involved, Penelope was the last person she could have suspected. “We have to question her.” 

“Is she here?” 

“Yeah, inside with the others.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” 

Olivia nodded, and the two took off into the crowded vicinity. They sped to the area the ladies were in when they left, but there was no sign of them. After checking there, they went back to the booth from before, only to find another party occupying it. They searched the bar, bathrooms, and anywhere else they could think of. After a while, Ray and Olivia decided they were gone and opted to leave and resume their search for Riley, intending to speak with Penelope at a later time. However, as they exited onto the street, they saw someone crawling into a taxi, and upon quick inspection realized it was Penelope. 

“Penelope!” Olivia yelled. She knew Penelope heard her because she suddenly moved quicker. Olivia rushed over to stop the vehicle, but wasn’t fast enough. 

The cab drove away and Olivia could see the back of all three ladies’ heads in the window. Penelope, however, was the only one who glanced through the back windshield and locked eyes with Olivia. She noticed the tears that glistened on Penelope’s cheeks in the dim streetlamp lighting, even from afar; the glistening of her running make-up sparkled as it ran down her face. Olivia wanted to believe the clueless, ditzy, poodle-obsessed Penelope couldn’t have been involved in something of this nature, but all the signs said otherwise. 

The car faded into the night, leaving Olivia and Ray cemented in place on the nearly deserted street. Frustration coursed through both of their veins, as more questions seemed to pile themselves on top of the already unending list.

Regardless, they now had a name and concrete, undeniable evidence that Penelope was involved – she wouldn’t be able to deny knowing something. It wasn’t much, but it was a start to what they hoped would be the end of this never-ending spiral of madness.

All they had to do was get to Penelope and make her talk. Considering the next stop on the tour was Portavira, Olivia knew that opportunity would present itself, and soon. Penelope could run, but once the thunderous hand of her inquisitive monarch was added to the equation, she would have nowhere to hide. 

Tags (if you'd like to be added or removed, please let me know): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose

@kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont

@bebepac @charlotteg234 @busywoman

@malblk21 @angelasscribbles

@bascmve01 @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie

@mysticalfangirl @umccall71 @fuckitweball0000 @differenttyphoonwerewolf

@lovingchoices14 @emersyn-in-cordonia

@karahalloway @aussiegurl1234 @the0afnan @nestledonthaveone @gabesmommie1130

[rollforjackass]

hellblazer’s rules about how heaven and hell work are the funniest bit of worldbuilding ever to me, because i'm pretty sure the lion’s share of their complicated nature exists solely in reaction to the fact that they created the first of the fallen — god’s conscience, constantine's perfect rival, humanity's Satan for whom constantine is, personally, The Devil, so chronically obsessed with our favorite scouse shithead that he once spent every night for 20 years tormenting a priest just to give constantine an example of what will be in store for him when he finally dies — and then had constantine beat the pants off of The Satan in his very first appearance. like, where do you go from there?

why, naturally to the next time constantine beats the pants off him, which is about…three issues later, and brings up that satan is part of a triumvirate of leaders in hell. also, if satan is tricked three times, according to The Law (that’s all it’s called), the person who tricked him goes free and satan has to take the punishment instead, just to make that time spicier than the last two. also, he undoes the first trick, comes after constantine, and gets fucking murdered (because being able to figure out the first trick at all was, itself, a trick) and there's a big final question about "where does satan go when he dies", which is honestly! really cool and thought-provoking!

but we don't want to lose him, since he was created as the perfect rival to highlight constantine's existence as a force to be feared by hell + the cost of that status in his personal life. so the answer to that really cool question is that satan was made mortal and fucked off to greece. as you do.

but also, you can restore greek-vacation-ex-satan back to power by getting the one he hates the most to give up their soul, who happens to be constantine, who happens to worm his way into staying alive while still fulfilling the terms, so now we’re back to regular ol satan again.

god i love these comics.

[zahri-melitor]

Young Justice may have been a JLA-affiliated team, but I don't think categorizing its members as Leaguers is a useful way to think about team membership. There's no overlap between its members and the League (except Ray, I guess), it has its own leadership, it's well-defined enough to be recognizable when adapted separately from its parent League, and it has a unique name rather than being the Justice League [something].

There are some teams where whether or not it's helpful to call it a League depends on what you're doing, like I'd include Justice League Dark if I was counting how many Justice League books were published each year but wouldn't include Constantine in a discussion about characters who led the Justice League, but Young Justice is pretty solidly its own thing.

Well, Red Tornado, Snapper Carr and Ray Terrill are all former members of the Justice League of America at the time of Young Justice (I cannot in good conscience say 'members in good standing' about a list that includes Snapper given his usage during post-Crisis, but you know. Members), though Reddy and Snapper are assigned as mentors. Whether they count as YJ members is a little more oblique, but I can see an argument that they are, inasmuch as people like the Wonder Twins are associated JL members.

I would instinctively treat Young Justice as its own entity, but also counting as cadet members of the Justice League at least as far as YJ98 goes, in that their team was bounded by Justice League control imposed on them, and had assigned supervision and mentors. They're fringe-aligned but somewhat conceptually separate.

I suppose it is like whether or not you'd call Justice League Dark part of the Justice League or not. It's just more more tangential connection. In the spectrum of possibilities YJ is further away from JLA than JLD is, but it's still closer than the Titans or any Outsiders lineup is.

(And as I suspect we are about to as a community be plunged back into a debate over who has the right to call a team Young Justice, so you know, just stepping over this section of argument)

Hmmm. Is Young Avengers considered an Avengers line up or its own thing? Because that's probably a closer equivalent than looking at the treatment of the Teen Titans over the years.

[npcemi]

Hello, 

         I deeply regret to inform you that The long road of how starting a fight with superman over clone parenting eventually lead to Danny Phantom become God will no longer be continued. The reason for this choice has to do with how ingrained that elements from the Sandman séries ( John constantine the endless, Lucifer morningstar etc ). With the whole thing coming out about Neil Gaiman, I don't feel I can in good conscience continue the fic.  This choice has not only effected this fic, but 5ish others. Some I may be able to rework, others I don't know quite yet, But I don't wanna leave anyone hanging so I'll post outlines and concepts below since I already had all of that worked out. 

For the long road--``

The superman hell loops would have been some shorter vignettes as follows; 

Part one-  The space ship crashes on the Kent's farm as normal however instead of being lovely and nice they agree begrudgingly to take the baby in to raise as a slave, because Aliens wouldn't have human rights

Part Two and Three- would be Clark growing up as a farm slave to the kents before getting rescued by the US government

Part 4- Clark ends up getting used by the Government as a tool until they figure out cloning him, in which case he has to chose between help his clones and get him and them all human rights or not helping them and getting him and all of them killed restarting the loop. 

In the mean time The titans, sans Robin have to come together to attempt piece together that both Trigon and Darksied are comming, how to stop them. 

The JL and Batfam are working on the GIW who develop a way to both strengthen and aerosolize blood blossoms to the point it can effect Danny. 

Some Bat fam and Phantom family bonding, Dani and Damien friendship with extra stabbing.  Barbara spends time with Jazz.

Superman completes his hell loop and is on friendly terms, Dani discusses shipping and fandom with Cass, Steph and Barbara. 

Vlad spends time with Dani and Danny where there is a big emotional réconciliation. 

A few months later Dani gets kidnapped from bat burger by the GIW and held at a GIW facility that Danny can't access due to the blood blossom variant in the air at the facility. The bats plan a rescue mission. Danny tries to abandon his humanity to have full access to his powers as the Ancient of space. Bruce talks him out of it; The GIW sends a public broadcast from metropolis to bait Phantom, it works. 

Danny and Vlad Teleport to the center of metropolis with the force of the Beirut explosion. But the are is flooded with Blood blossom gas. Vlad is practically disabled and Phantom is heavily slowed. Superman shows up to try to help.  Danny and Vlad assume the worse but before they can attack, a GIW sniper shots vlad with an exploding ectoranium bullet killing him and shattering his core into 7 pieces. 

A GIW comes in the open and thanks superman in the open. Danny Phantom is about to merc the fuck outa superman but he gets shot with the same bullet that vlad did. This leaves him trapped in his human body which is now truly dying and bleed out. Superman is unable to move outa shock. The GIW moves in to attack, Hestia manifests but her demeanor is different, 

She summons her sword the la flamme du revenant, The GIW surprisingly prepared attempt to douse the flames with millions of gallons of water they got a sorcière to summon, They think they had but Hestia laughs; She start the following explanation, "You think you could douse these flames? You could never, for these flames are not flames but the energy of every atomic connection that exisists in infinity. The flames are just how mortals see its power manifest."

She uses the sword to cut her hand and bleeds in water.  It all turns to a green glow

"until the king's body fully dies and he can regain his mind I am here to defend my king. Alors viens l'eau de a miséricorde," She slashes and controling the glowing water in an arch the covers a nearby helicopter it erases from existence.  "The l'eau de a miséricorde is my swords second form, its Bankai if you will. Its waters separate all of the atoms down to the quarks of that it touches and absorbs that energy to further spread its waters." 

Hestia finishes the fight quickly. 

once that is done Danny is able to rescue Danielle from the GIW as he is now just Space; 

Danny and family have to pull back and can no longer interact with the mortal realms. 

The titans and the JL reel from the loss of their friends, the batfam sets up a shrine to their once family. 

When Darksied and Trigon invade it is as one being. 

The fight is all but lost. 

The Phantoms see this and want to interfere but Danny is forbidden, However clockwork says some bullshit that allows Danielle to deus ex machina and fight in the final battle helping them win. 

YAY the day is saved, add in a couple of happy fluffy filters,  before the whole Injustice plotline happens except superman beginnings to destroy the multi verse apart. Clockwork says Danny cannot interfere. 

Once the entire universe is almost destroyed in war the ancients come together to see what they can do to fix this mess, but An and Ki manifest amongst them all stating they wish to fade, there is argument before the ancients agree to restart the infinite realms anew with Space taking on his proper role that he inherits from An and Ki as space and that holds all things etc. 

Hestia devolves her forms all the way back until she turns in to Enlil, 

“Mother, father are you sure this is what you want?” at their re assurance she nods and returns to her hestia form to summon her blade, 

“Bankai l'eau de a miséricorde.” She takes a breath as the sword begins to glow a bright green,

“Fin et recommencement la creation retourne au  χάος” the sword explodes and the universe restarts. 

To protect and guide the newly born infinite realms The everlasting Tro “Creates” 7 children each containing a piece of Vlad’s old core. Uriel, Raphael, Michael, Saraquael, Gabriel, Raguel with Samael (lucifer morningstar) reciving the largest piece of Vlad’s old core. 

Ok that would have basically been the end of that fic; 

This fic also leads as the origin of the universe for my Kp all the drama fic, ( which totally isn’t a side project of Danielle to make her OTP a reality noooooo)

In that particular fic during chapter 8 a version of Maxine caulfiend escapes her hell loop  then eventually becomes minor antagonist in that fic before dimension hopping and lading in the universe for my fic Cigarettes and valentines becoming the second and primary antagonist for Max, Chloe, Rachel and the doctor. 

I was also throwing around the idea that the John constantine from a long road eventily has his soul repaired and then adopted by Danny ( because how funny would that be like come on,) and is able to know of the full history of the infinite realms, and gets brought in as a sort of ringer in the eventual time i’d have to finish the Team up fanfiction also linked to this-- 

But yeah,  that was all I had planed for this fic, I may post the outlines for the others in their ending announcements; But yeah it really sucks “losing” all these works in progress, I may retool some of them or all of them who knows. all the plot lines really relied on each other in my head

But with a lot of the main connecting lore stemming from a series directly connected to a rapist, I cannot abide; 

Anyway thanks for having read the fic and your support along the way, I may have other new non connected fics but unfortunately this set is dead in the water for now.