#I thought Constantine was best placed for this line of thinking | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ridingtorohan · 6 months ago

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hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist - Want to Join my Taglist?

Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

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doveatheart · 9 months ago

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Hi, I have a request:

Could you write Human GN reader x Angel Dust (platonic)?

The reader is a young and shy human with magic skills (like John Constantine, if this is a help for reference) and when they try to do a ritual, they make a mistake, fall in Hell, where they meet Angel. When they see him, they run away, think he want to harm them, for to find out than Angel want to help them.

This is so specific, I know, but I want some hurt to comfort from one of my favorite character. And I hope this kind of request is not bother you

Thank you and Bye

A/n : Omg I’m actually excited. Ahhhhh. Ty for requesting! This doesn’t bother me at all. Sorry that I changed a few things, just seemed to fit better. Hope you enjoy!

One thing leads to another~

Angel Dust x g!n human reader

(Platonic relationship)

Warnings- Uhm rituals, unholy stuff, Mentions of bl00d, cursing, I think that’s it… Enjoy!

Update September 27, 2024 - Rewrote some lines to fit the plot better.

P.t. 1- Meeting THE Angel Dust *Already here* P.t. 2- “You aren’t gonna believe the day I had.”

You had always been a very cautious person. But when it came to your bestie Finch,(You can choose any name but that’s what came to my mind) You would die for them. When you made a friend, you would be loyal to the grave. So when they suggested some questionable things, who were you to judge. They suggested it in the afternoon when you got off your part-time job as a magician. You two often met then since you worked only two buildings away from each other. You walked down the stone steps that led to a nice fountain that you sat at.

“Hey (Y/n). I saw this cool thing in a dark book in the library. Wanna see?” Finch then placed the book on your lap and convinced you to open it.

You flipped to the bookmarked page with a sigh. You skimmed the page, reading about a ritual that could summon someone from Hell to grant you one wish. Sure it was far fetched, with a bunch of offerings, but it seemed fake. What’s the harm in a little bit of blood and fake rituals… You needed some fun anyway. You have no plans so sure.

“Soooooooo, whatcha’ thinkkkk? You wanna try?” Finch asked politely.

“Ya know what? Sure. Why not. I got no plans tonight anyway.” You replied giving the book back. They looked surprised. Who were you to say no to your Best friend.

“OKAY! Meet me at my house at 8:30 SHARP. See you then!” Finch then skipped away like the little kid they are.

What did you get yourself into…

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

You walked on the sidewalk up to Finch’s house after you stupidly accepted their offer on messing with the fabric of life itself. You know, not a big deal. You waved off the thoughts creeping in your head about how dangerous this could be. Before you knuckles could graze the wood of their door, Finch opened it. They wore a black hooded cloak and held a candle.

“Uhhh- Hey. What’s with the uhh, That.” You pointed to their outfit.

“Do not question the ways of this ritual. Young one.” They said ominously.

“We are the same age.” You said walking in.

You immediately noticed the candles on the floor and across the room. It was dark though. What’s the logic on that? You question. The curtains were closed, lights off and book on a cake stand.

”Cake stand?” You questioned.

“It was the next best thing I had to a Pedestal!” Finch defended.

“Okay okay,” You throw up your hands.

You set your bag down softly and said,

“So what we doin’?”

“Sit down. All you have to do is sit down right here.” They said.

“Yea.” You sat down on a pillow, just barely missing a candle.

Finch then took a knife and cut both of your wrists. The warm blood trailed down your arm and then splashed into a little vial. They did some weird voodoo stuff and then they whispered some shit. You vision then went blurry. Finch then noticed the faraway look on your face.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” She shook your shoulders. The last thing you saw was you friends sinister face.

She had sacrificed you.

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

Hot, so very hot. Red. Yelling, fighting, Screaming. You instantly recognized all these. Your Father/Mother taught you to analyze your situation. Your eyes darted from… creature to creature. Maybe it was your personality, or it was the shock of being, where ever you are, but you backed into a corner of an alley and breathed.

“Where am I? How do I get out-“ you asked before getting interrupted.

“Your in Hell Toots.” You spun around so fast it made you a little woozy. You looked at the tall, thing. He had white fur, two different colored eyes, four arms and you only measured up to his waist.

“Damnit small genes” you cursed to yourself. Then you replayed what he said in your mind. Hell? Shoot. Your fight or flight kicked in, you were far to tiny to take on this massive thing, and plus his arms could hold you in place. You made a mad dash out into the streets of hell.

“Hey-!” The spider called. For some reason, which was unknown to him, he chased you. Of course on his long legs he caught up with you in a flash. His hand wrapped around your wrist. You fought against his grip, but he was to strong. “It’s okay, calm down.” The spider said soothingly. He knew it was overwhelming. “Take a deep breath.” You calmed down. “Hey ya good now?” He asked.

“Yeah…” you said. Your shy personality didn’t let you speak higher than a whisper. The spider smiled a sharp white grin.

“There ya go.” He let go of your wrist. “Angel dust. Famous adult show star. Pleasure to meet ya.” He held out one of his four hands.

“I- I’m (Y/N).” You took his hand.

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

* Time skip cause I’m lazy…*

Angel Dust proved to be a trustworthy person. You were a little rough on the edges because of Finch, That piece of shit backstabber. You pretty much had trauma from their disregard of your friendship. Angel would comfort you on nights you thought you had no one, and make sure to tell you he would never do that. Some nights he would cuddle (not in a weird way) just so you could vent your emotions. In return, you were there for his good and bad days at work. You stayed at the Hazbin Hotel, a place that plans to redeem sinners to combat the exterminations happening every year. You met its staff, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Nifty and even the Famous Radio Demon.

“DON’T make any deals with him.” Angel warned.

Angels P.O.V. Real quick

I had just gotten here for my first shift. Val asked me to meet him in Vox’s tower. I clicked the button for the top floor of the Voxtech building, and whipped out my phone, taking a sip of my smoothie that sat in one of my four arms. The elevator dinged that I have arrived at my floor. I walked out and pushed open the door that said ‘Vox CEO of Voxtech’ on it.

“Mornin’ Val-“ I lifted my head from my phone screen to see Val on the couch with Velvet, and Vox looking at cameras on his monitors. I looked closer to see (Y/N) walking through the Mall with Charlie.

“Hello Angel cakes.” Valentino purred.

“Why you lookin’ at (Y/N).” I questioned Vox.

“Ahhh, no reason.” Vox said clicking off the camera.

This probably had something to do with (Y/N) bring a human. They couldn’t help it. They fell down like that. I don’t even know how they fell down here…

I knew something didn’t smell right.

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

Your P.O.V.

“Charlie, I’m gonna go in this store really quick.” You said straying away from the princess.

“Okay be back soon!” She said cheerfully.

You walked in and instantly were tackled. Strong men held you down prevented you from screaming by holding a cloth to your mouth. You thrashed around but nothing stunned them. Your vision went blurry when you breathed in the cloths scent. Here we go again. Except this time the last thing you saw were random demons faces, and name tags that said “Voxtech” on their shirt.

A/n- Thank you for reading! Will be posting a part two hopefully soon. My requests are open, so ask away. Love y’all 🤍

#hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x you #angel dust x y/n #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust #writing #hazbin hotel #vivziepop

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skylarstark4826 · 1 year ago

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The mechinations of Damien Darhk after he'd learned of the Flash's allies had turned one Cisco Ramon into a deeply changed individual with a quickly gained mastery of his powers thanks to the intense training Darhk had placed him under. Under the long lived man's tutelage, Cisco had learned he could see more then just what was going on in their time line and in others, that he could also create shock waves that could shatter concrete and steel. Team Arrow, Team Flash, and the Legends of Tomorrow all had varying difficulties with the changed Cisco and not even Constantine had been able to free the young man from Darhk's considerable power. Under Darhk, Cisco or Vibe as he liked to be called now designed himself a suit that included a set of gauntlets that could amplify his powers which had been another factor in the three teams having issues in taking him down.

Vibe's outfit consisted of a sleeveless jacket, black boots, black bulletproof leather pants with red lines on them, the top consisting of a top with gold color armored short sleeves with the lower half of the top being red while the rest looked gray with some gold at the top arouund the chest area with a hood to go along with it. Like the pants, the top, jacket, and hood were armored too in order to protect against bullets. He also wore a set of red and gold shades similar to the ones he wore during the time he and the others were trying to see into the timeline he kept dreaming of where Eobard Thawne had killed him. The glasses also served as a way to protect against anything that could potentially blind him along with protecting his identity since a small part of Cisco that wasn't affected by Darhk's power on him didn't want his family to see him the way he was and potentially get hurt.

Cisco had also cut his hair too since Darhk preferred those working for him to have short hair in order to look more presentable. Both the unaffected portion of Cisco and the twisted version thought the whole thing was stupid but it was done since he didn't want to experience the repercussions if he didn't do as requested. Things would come to a head between Darhk and the three teams one day when he decided to challenge them and Vibe was a part of the attack that was meant to try and wipe out the entire group in one fell swoop. Teams Arrow, Flash, Constantine, the Rogues, and the Legends of Tomorrow were joined by the League of Assassins now thankfully led by Nyssa after she had finally managed to take Malcolm's head as a combined unit to fight against Darhk. Vixen and a restored Jay Garrick were also part of the team of protectors as well.

Once words had been exchanged between the Green Arrow and Damien Darhk, the fight soon began afterwards and it was all basically mass chaos soon after. Barry and Jay were fighting as best as they could against the highly determined and evil Zoom while Oliver and Nyssa fought against Darhk as their allies fought valliantly against their attackers. Vibe was in his own fight against the Pied Piper and their sonic vibrations were leaving holes and anyone unfortunate enough to be near them a bit on the deaf side of things too. Hartley could hardly believe that Francisco had gone as dark as he had and it didn't feel right to him at all whatsoever as in his mind, Francisco was meant to be the good guy he fought against due to his allegiance with the Rogues and as an overall bad guy.

"Its hard to see you like this Cisco!" Called out Hartley as he dodged another sonic blast from his opponent.

"That name has no meaning to me as only Vibe exists." The former good guy replied tonelessly as he fired off another sonic blast in Hartley's direction.

The green clad Rogue barely managed to avoid the blast and threw one back at Cisco who merely deflected it with his own sonic blast. "I'm terribly sorry to tell you this little Cisco, oh… Wait… I'm not sorry at all actually. But I think you are quite wrong!" He charged at the manipulated engineer and threw a surprise sonic attack at him that sent Cisco flying to the ground with a groan.

Hartley walked up to the downed engineer and stood over him with a satisfied smile on his face. "You've no idea how long I've waited for a moment like this. Hopefully however that it benefitted you by knocking some sense back into that little head of yours."

A surprise blast sent him flying a good distance away until he landed with a loud groan as hitting the cement hurt like a bitch! This in turn allowed Vibe to stand over him with his gauntlets aimed right at him. "May you enjoy whatever passes for an afterlife for you."

Try as he might but Hartley could barely move to defend himself as the man he hardly knew anymore powered up his gauntlets for a massive blast against him when all of a sudden they were covered in gold! Which made the enspelled Vibe frown in annoyance while Hartley breathed a sigh of relief at the last second save. Vibe looked to where the unwanted interference came from and saw one Lisa 'Golden Glider' Snart looking right at him with a saddened expression on her face as her Gold Gun rested on her shoulder. "Oh Cisco, it pains me to see you like this." And it really did since one of the most appealing things about the man was the sense of goodness about him.

"Your pain is none of my concern Golden Glider."

The part within him that had yet to be taken under Darhk's influenced hoped that nothing horrible would happen to Lisa and would have much rather preferred her to just get the Hell out of there! "The Cisco I knew would have said something in that cute and adorable way of his about how it would be a concern and I think that Cisco is still inside you no matter what that blonde jackass has done to you!"

Ohh how she wished she could trap that asshole in Gold for what he'd done to her Cisco! "As I told the fool on the ground next to us, that man is dead and all that is left is Vibe, Chosen of Damien Darhk." If the lovely Snart was honest with herself and she was, she was really, really beginning to hate the tonelessness in her man's voice when joy and compassion should be all in it!

She refused to believe the man she came to like, care about, and possibly even love was gone as he was one of the very few positive things in her life. Lisa wanted nothing to do with the lifeless and evil version of the Cisco Ramon before her and she would do whatever she could to get him back to his true self. "Let me look into your eyes then since they claim that the eyes are the windows to the soul. And I'll prove that you are more than just a tool for someone else."

It was a long shot and she knew it but it was about the only real good idea she had to try and get him back to his true self. And if it failed and she somehow lived through all this? Well… She'd just leave Central City and never return again or find love with another as this whole thing was making her realize that Cisco Ramon was it for her despite the fact they were on opposite sides in two different ways ironically enough. An irony the Snart sister hated quite a bit!

She watched as Cisco used his abilities to free himself of the Gold Gun's affects and Lisa couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about what he would do next. What he did next however really surprised her as he removed the glasses and she could see into those eyes of his that she had often found herself thinking about, amongst other things when it came to him. "You may look into my eyes but I tell you now that you will find NOTHING that you hope to see."

And he was damn sure of that! And if she did… Well... He'd just have to have his master do something about it as it could be an issue later on. Lisa stepped up to him as Hartley watched on and found himself hoping this wouldn't end with the girl's death. Staring intently into his eyes, she saw a glimmer of the engineer she had come to know and like and it gave her hope that she could get him back. Stepping back from him, the Snart sister gave him a smile that made Vibe a little confused as she should definitely not be smiling! "Why are you smiling when there's nothing to smile about?"

"Because baby, the Cisco I know is still there inside of you just waiting to be freed!"

Hartley wondered if the girl was just seeing things since she obviously had the hots for the guy. Course, considering her lot in life he supposed he couldn't blame her for her obvious lack of taste in men. Vibe growled in annoyance at the woman's words. "I pity you for the delusion you place yourself under! As mentioned before and for the last time, Cisco Ramon is dead!" He watched as the foolish woman shook her head in denial and told him how wrong he was.

"I can see it in your eyes baby, the man I know is still there and he wants out!"

A charge of his gauntlets was his answer but she made no move to back off and if anything, she appeared to be more determined then previously. Very well, if she's willing to die for foolish beliefs then who am I to deny her the death she wishes?

Looking at the powering gauntlets with an expression that combined determination and sadness, she dropped her gun to the ground with a loud clatter as she looked into his eyes one last time. "If that's the way its going to be Cisco… Then do it. Shoot me Cisco!" Screamed out the girl as she tried to fight off any tears.

Extending his hands forward as Hartley tried to get up to stop a senseless murder that would send little Cisco deeper into the dark hole he'd been dragged into, he watched as the so called Vibe seemed to hesitate. And it made the man wonder if that bit of him the girl seemed to think was still there was actually true. Lisa noticed the hesitation as well. "Well!? What are you waiting for!? Do it! Show me the heartless bastard you've been turned into! SHOOT ME!"

It was probably fortunate that her brother wasn't nearby or even able to hear her scream over all the fighting as he would have charged right in and likely ended Cisco for good despite the deal with Barry. "Get… Get out of here Snart!" Ordered Hartley as he tried once more to get up but the girl refused to listen.

Vibe tried once more to send out the kill shot but his body refused to do as he wanted much to his growing ire. On the inside that bit of Cisco that was still good was fighting against the darkness the hardest he'd done yet and was gaining ground! Vibe growled as he tried another attempt until he was brought to his knees while Lisa and Hartley as he finally managed to get up while still in pain watched on in confusion and hope. "Augh! What's going on!?" Roared out Vibe angrily as the real Cisco valiantly fought on from the inside.

And it wasn't long before the two witnessed the strange sight of a black essence coming out of his body and mouth with a yell before dissipating completely. The restored Cisco went down to his hands and knees afterwards while breathing heavily and Lisa was quick to kneel down next to him in concern. "Cisco? You okay baby?"

Her man could only look up and stare at her in shock and amazement over how far she'd been willing to go in her belief of him. "You… You never gave up on me." He told her in amazed wonder.

Lisa smiled at him and the engineer could swear he felt his heart tighten in a good way at the sight of that smile. "No, I never did babe!"

She was surprised when he suddenly hugged her tightly while Hartley watched on and Damien Darhk could also be heard yelling for a retreat while also lacking half an arm but the two paid no attention to what all was going on around them as they were only concerned with one another. Lisa quickly got past her surprise of the action and hugged him back just as tightly and whispered words of encouragement to him as she felt him cry in relief and the freedom he finally got back.

For a time after he'd gotten back his freedom, Cisco didn't wear the suit again and refused to use his powers but Lisa stuck with him through it all while even giving up the Rogue life much to her brother's annoyance. But at least it was with Ramon so that was some compensation for him. The engineer also stayed away from STAR Labs since he felt like he had no right to be around his friends until Barry and Caitlin showed up at his house to talk with him. Something that had thankfully worked and he was soon back at the Labs with Lisa along for the ride. Which had made Jax and Kendra a little wary of her and of Cisco to some extent.

But as time went on the two were able to gain their complete trust and Lisa and Cisco continued to fall deeper for one another and the man could never see himself with any other girl ever again. Something that bothered the Hell out of his brother Dante considering the kidnapping thing but eventually he came around once he realized just how serious the girl was about his little brother. It wouldn't be until a final last attack from Darhk in Star City that Cisco would find himself suiting up once again and helping out in the fight with Lisa right by his side. And in a moment that would be told for years to come, the engineer with a love for Big Bang Theory t-shirts and other fandom t-shirts he liked to wear, came a proposal from him as they fought Darhk's HIVE forces. Lisa actually had found it romantic and pretty much something that would be them and had immediately said yes followed by a soul searing kiss that left the two of them breathless.

Her brother nearly blew a gasket when he found that out since a part of him had been hoping his baby sister would come back to the Rogues. But that particular moment had made him realize she was finally and truly happy and was rather happy when she asked him to walk her down the aisle. Cisco and Lisa Ramon would enjoy many years together in life as not only super heroes but as a loving married couple with quite a few children and grandchildren before crossing over into the afterlife and continuing the love between them that many had come to refer to as GoldenVibe.

#GoldenVibe #Cisco x Lisa #Cisco Ramon #Lisa Snart

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talentforlying · 2 years ago

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💭 + good and evil

he has very complicated feelings about their use as labels / units of control / designators of loyalty. i'll touch on general theory, labels, and how he feels about them being applied to himself.

general theory: he doesn't believe in good and evil as two sides of the same coin. to him, they're the ridged bit on the edge: an ourobouros, a self-feeding circuit. asking one to exist without the other is a stupid notion, and bound to end in self-annihilation.

labels: unless it suits his purposes, like mirroring someone's language for a con or fitting in with local color, constantine categorically refuses to assign good or evil as concrete descriptive values to anything, if he can help it. unlike divine or infernal, which are more tangible because they're about party lines and politics anyway, he knows firsthand just how subjective people's definitions of good & evil are, and how easily those definitions can shift to fit a story. intentions can be good, in theory, but in practice, whose metric are you using to test that? are they any better or worse if you thought you were doing good by causing harm? see, it's fucky that way, and as much as he likes a little healthy philosophical chatter, he doesn't much care to be preached to.

in his experience, people don't fight wars for good or for evil, they fight for themselves: their values, wallets, families, futures, doesn't matter. heaven is only good the way people say "they're as good as their word", in the abstract and with mandate of proof. hell is an absolute nightmare in every sense, but suppose it was ever someone's absolute nightmare to be loved; is taking up a tender mantle then a strictly evil act? he's had his life saved by demons, and angels have spat in his eye; he's saved the world and damned it in cycles. ourobouros, no two sides.

to constantine, if you're dividing the world up into good people and evil, you're naive, lazy, closet-bigoted, a grifter, or some pathetic combination of all the above, and not only does he Immediately not trust whoever's doing it, but he will not spare you the time of fucking day to hear about how you came to that decision. sort your shit out on your own time, get well soon.

himself: again, he doesn't assign values. if you asked him sincerely, he'd say he's not a good man or an evil man, he's just human, and doing his best. but i think it's in the nature of a con man to reflect back what it is people see in you, validate their perspective so they lower their guard, and that means becoming whatever version of yourself you thinks aligns the closest to that boundary line. so he has specific acts that he puts on for both ends of the snake, depending on who he's fucking with.

the most "good" version of himself, i think, is drawn from the memories of the person he was in his relationship to kit ryan: someone who was static, but devoted, committed to a pattern of behavior that would benefit someone else, regardless of the pitfalls.

the most "evil" version of himself goes right to his father and the serial killer who killed his father, 'the family man': someone self-aggrandizing and wrathful, precise in where they place the knife, haphazard in not caring who they hit when they miss. still static, but unhappily, seeking any angle to make it worse for everyone around him than it already was for himself.

ironically, this means that in searching for references to become the most evil version of himself possible, constantine wound up referring back to himself: he looks exactly like his father, and initially liked the family man when they met, because constantine recognized a couple elements of himself in the man. so on a psychological level, i think we can take a pretty good guess as to how constantine would label himself, if he believed in such a thing.

@n1atruc / HEADCANON TOPICS ( always accepting )

#n1atruc #here's hoping this makes a lick of sense rip i am so tired #me: GOOD VS EVIL IN HELLBLAZER GOOD VS EVIL IN HELLBLAZER #my brain: nap bitch #( answered. ) THIS IS JOHN CONSTANTINE. FUCK OFF.#( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.

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kittttycakes · 2 years ago

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Ahh I’m so glad you’re enjoying GND. It is the best and I love it so much.

Also I reread ‘kiss the ring, bend the knee, bow down’ and damn, I needed a cold shower after that.

The line where Morpheus says “I would not ask for what you would not willingly give: only your love. Your devotion. Your obedience. And in return, I would give you everything: a place in my kingdom, by my side, in my bed, in my heart.” Is just nnnnghggh.

It does also remind me of Jareth in the Labyrinth saying to Sarah “I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.”

And now I want to rewatch it haha.

I really hope Grace does get that friend! I can’t think of anyone in universe off the top of my head though. Do you think you’d consider some kind of sneaky crossover with an adjacent fandom?

I’ll be absolutely stoked if you’re able to write something where Constantine runs into/meets Grace and Hob. I love the thought of Constantine being surprised and maybe slightly TMI upon realising that maybe tall, dark and broody doesn’t have as much of a stick up his ass as you’d think.

Having been rereading a bunch of your writing, I noticed a few were written for Promptober 2022. Do you think you’ll do something similar this year?

That line was definitely inspired at least in passing by that very line from Labyrinth! That was a formative movie for me, and there’s just something about the power dynamic between full control and total submission and both at the same time that’s rife with possibility. Morpheus gets to use all of his pretty words to his advantage, as a treat! He can be all things, and Grace wants it all. I’m so happy you enjoyed that one, that might actually be my favorite of the smut one shots (so far).

I would never say never to the possibility, especially for a possible future one shot! Even just something subtle with a name…I would love for Grace to have someone who she can be fully honest with and relax around, instead of constantly having to keep in the back of her mind what she can and can’t talk about. She’s good at keeping things vague enough for plausible deniability, she pulls out a lot of “my partner” and just using pronouns instead of names, but if her friends ever think about it too hard, the stories she tell don’t quite line up sometimes, and it’s almost like there’s two different personalities at play.

I love Constantine so much (both Johanna and the short lived 2014 NBC series), so any excuse I can have to bring her back in, I will absolutely be taking. I’d really love for her and Hob to meet, that has to be a bit of a trip for him! Grace would be very interested in her and what she does, if she can weasel anything out of her about her job. Constantine definitely does her best not to think of Morpheus’s personal life, but it’s a big surprise that his type appears to be very far from the sort of Morticia Addams type she would have guessed at, if pressed.

I am planning to do another round of Promptober this year! Like last year, it will likely extend into November, but hey, it’s for fun! I did 15 prompts that I gathered from a few different sources and my own head last year, I think this year I’m going to be borrowing a little from kinktober, whumptober, and a fall/Halloween themed list that I have saved as a draft that I’ll credit and link to when my masterlist goes up. I also have a few saved asks with prompts that I’m going to be working through soon too, so lots of plans there!

#anon <3 #oc: grace talbot #my most crack fic ideal friendship for her is rose tyler #I just feel like they could be friends you know?

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7-wonders · 3 years ago

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for your morpheus asks how do you think he would act with little kids ( sorry if this is not much to go off of ) maybe an x reader where reader has a little kid?

Fatherhood

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x reader

God this is so sweet! Also I randomly picked a name that I like, but you can always fill in your own!

Dating an Endless was supposed to be hard. And to be sure, there are moments that make you wonder what the hell you’re doing. But the difficulties of dating Dream of the Endless have absolutely nothing on the difficulties of being a single parent

You had had Caroline young, and since young relationships that exist mainly due to passion end up fizzling out, you were now raising her alone

You don’t regret it though, because said relationship brought you the most important person in your life

Unfortunately, since most people don’t find single parents of young children to be a turn-on, you had naturally resigned yourself to not dating until your daughter was much older

But then you had met Dream, thanks to Caroline’s “Auntie Jo” (aka your best friend Johanna Constantine) having so nicely roped you into finding a bag of magical sand via divination

(You didn’t particularly like using magic anymore, especially considering that children and spells don’t mix, but Johanna seeking your help against troublesome fae was how you became friends in the first place. If Jo needs your help, you’re going to give it to her)

Honestly it still surprises you just how fast you fell for Dream, and he for you, which is why you were dreading the conversation you were going to have to have with him and his subsequent refusal to ever see you again

Much to your surprise though, Dream takes the news of you having a four-year-old really well

He seems a little melancholy at first (you learn later that he was thinking of his own son whom he tragically lost), but was quick to assure you that the news changed nothing and that he would enjoy meeting her, if you were comfortable with such a thing

If you thought you couldn’t fall in love with him more, that was before seeing him with your daughter

He’s…antisocial, in most situations, so to see him so at ease and willing to smile and indulge Caroline’s every whim is to see a side of him that he holds extremely private

Caroline is obsessed with Dream (or “Dweam” as she calls him, still tripping on her r’s)

The first time they met, you were concerned how Caroline would react

After all, a tall, brooding man in all black isn’t exactly friendly-looking

But there must be some part of kids that just know that he’s the Prince of Stories and King of Dreams, because she simply grinned at him and asked him his “birdie’s” name

From that moment on Caroline has Dream wrapped around her finger, not that Dream’s complaining

He always carries her on his shoulders when he comes with you on outings in the Waking, her little hands finding a home snugly in his wild hair to keep her balanced

Will gladly listen to her explain the artistic decisions behind her newest crayon scribbles, and also helps her create new masterpieces

You’ve had to tell Caroline that just because Dream lets her put unicorn and rainbow stickers on him, that doesn’t mean she should do it

(Though seeing him with a glittery sticker stuck to his cheek did give you a good laugh, much to a scowling Dream’s chagrin)

Dream loves telling stories, naturally, and has gotten into the habit of taking over telling Caroline bedtime stories

Using his sand, he’ll form dreamscapes in the palm of his hand to illustrate the colorful tales he tells her; tales of knights and princesses, quests and treasure

You usually end up just as enraptured as your daughter

Though you’ve been trying to walk that thin line of encouraging Dream and Caroline’s relationship while simultaneously making sure that she knows Dream is not her dad, it was only a matter of time until that failed

It’s almost a year after you had first introduced Dream to your little family unit; it was late afternoon and you were simultaneously on the phone putting out a work fire and attempting to put laundry away

Caroline had already called for you twice while you went around the house, but you had held up a finger and whispered to her, “One second!”

Obviously, that’s too long for a four-year-old to wait

Dream’s used to arriving in the middle of “controlled chaos,” as you call it, so he’s not too surprised to see Caroline with a banana in her hand as she practically chases you around the house

When she sees that Dream’s here, she screeches to a stop

“Daddy?” Caroline asks, and Dream wonders who she’s talking to

She huffs and stomps her foot. “Daddy!”

Dream then realizes that she’s talking to him

When he looks down at Caroline, she simply holds out the banana expectantly

“Open?”

He’s in such shock that he reverts back to the parental instincts that, once gained, can never truly be lost, and asks, “What do we say?”

“Open please”

He does so wordlessly, mind running overtime to try and make sense of this

Eventually when he does, he swoops her up into his arms and buries his face in her hair, much to her giggling protests

(And if he sheds a couple of tears? Who’s to know?)

You finally finish what you were doing and enter the living room

“Sorry that took so long, baby. What did you need?” you ask

Caroline smiles. “It’s okay, Daddy opened my banana for me!”

You’re about to gently remind her not to talk with food in her mouth when you realize what she said and stare at Dream, who simply smiles back at you

“Did you say thank you?” She nods, and you idly rub a hand on her back. “Good.”

Neither you nor Dream want to make her think that she did something wrong, so you have no choice but to continue with your evening

Later, when you and Dream are alone, you say, “I’m sorry if what Caroline said made you uncomfortable. I can talk to her about it later and explain it again.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

You look unsure, but he can see the hope that you’re trying to keep hidden. “You’re…okay with it?”

“I hold many titles, but ‘father’ has always been one of my favorites. To have the opportunity to be a father again, especially to a child as exceptional as Caroline, would be the greatest honor. As long as you approve, of course.”

You grin, one of his favorite sights, and nod. “Of course I approve.”

Now it’s your turn to be swept up into Dream’s arms (he’s found that he’s doing a lot more of that lately—hugging), and you laugh much as your daughter did earlier

Dream can count on his two hands the number of times that he’s been this happy in his long, long life, and he makes a silent vow to both you and Caroline (his daughter, he thinks fondly, still in disbelief) that he will learn from his past mistakes

Caroline will never find herself doubting her father’s love, he swears

A promise that he’s sure to uphold most solemnly

#chat with claire #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #the sandman imagine #the sandman

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neil-gaiman · 4 years ago

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More casting news on Sandman...

Every afternoon I get an email telling me that there are “dailies” from The Sandman ready to be watched. It's the best bit of the day. Once every few weeks I get an email letting me know that there's a finished episode waiting for me to watch it. It's the best bit of the month.

The Sandman is being made, and it's... well, it's The Sandman. Which is the best thing of all.

You may know that The Sandman is based on my comic book series of the same name. A rich blend of modern myth and dark fantasy in which contemporary fiction, historical drama and legend are interwoven, The Sandman follows the people and places affected by Morpheus, the Dream King, as he mends the cosmic — and human — mistakes he's made during his vast existence.

You might already know that Tom Sturridge (he/him) is Dream of the Endless, Gwendolyn Christie (she/her) is Lucifer, Sanjeev Bhaskar (he/him) and Asim Chaudhry (he/him) are Cain and Abel, Charles Dance (he/him) is Roderick Burgess, Vivienne Acheampong (she/her) is Lucienne, and Boyd Holbrook (he/him) is The Corinthian.

But there are more parts to be announced. And I thought it would be fun to tell you about some of them, and the thinking behind them.

DEATH – Dream's wiser, nicer, and much more sensible sister. Significantly harder to cast than you might imagine (well, than I imagined, anyway). Hundreds of talented women from all around the planet auditioned, and they were brilliant, and none of them were right. Someone who could speak the truth to Dream, on the one hand, but also be the person you'd want to meet when your life was done on the other. And then we saw Kirby Howell-Baptiste's (she/her) audition and we knew we had our Death.

DESIRE – Dream's sibling and everything you want, whatever you want and whoever you are. Desire is also trouble for Dream. Families are complicated. We had barely started looking when Mason Alexander Park (they/them) reached out on Twitter, and threw their hat into the ring. We were thrilled when they got the part.

DESPAIR – Desire's twin, Dream's sister. She is the moment when all hope is gone, the bleakest of the Endless. Donna Preston (she/her) will be playing her, and her performance is chilling and sad. You feel her pain.

JOHANNA CONSTANTINE – Eighteenth Century occult adventuress, John Constantine’s great-great-great grandmother. This Sandman character became so popular that she even had her own spin-off series. I created her to fill the role that John Constantine does in the past. When we broke down the first season, given that we knew that we would be encountering Johanna in the past, we wondered what would happen if we met a version of her in the present as well. We tried it and the script was sparkier, feistier, and in some ways even more fun. So having written her, we just had to cast her. Jenna Coleman (she/her) gave us the Johanna of our dreams – tough, brilliant, tricky, haunted and probably doomed.

ETHEL CRIPPS – Roderick Burgess's love, John Dee's mother, is a small but vital role in the comics, but she became more important as we told our story. In the 1920s and 30s, she is played by Niamh Walsh (she/her): a betrayed and determined young woman seeking to survive. In the present day, now a woman of a hundred identities and a thousand lies, she's played by the brilliant Joely Richardson (she/her).

JOHN DEE – Ethel's son is dangerous. He was driven mad, long ago. Now he's out and on a quest for Truth that may destroy the world. We needed an actor who could break your heart and keep your sympathy while taking you into the darkest places. We were lucky that David Thewlis (he/him) took the part.

Now we're shooting The Doll's House, the second big Sandman storyline. It's the story of:

ROSE WALKER – a young woman on a desperate search for her missing brother, who finds a family she didn't know that she had, and a connection to Dream that neither of them can escape. We needed someone young who could make you care as she ventures into some very dangerous places. Boyd Holbrook's Corinthian is waiting for her, after all. Kyo Ra (she/her) achieves that as Rose.

LYTA HALL – Rose’s friend, a young widow mourning her husband Hector. Rose doesn't know that Hector has started showing up in Lyta's dreams, though. Or that strange things are happening. Razane Jammal (she/her) is Lyta, and she's terrific.

UNITY KINKAID - Heiress, Rose's mysterious benefactor. She has spent a century asleep. Now she's awake, having missed out on her life. She's played by Sandra James Young (she/her).

GILBERT – Rose Walker's debonair protector. A dab hand with a paradox and a sword cane. Stephen Fry (he/him) is a National Treasure, and we forget sometimes that he's also a remarkable actor. Seeing him in costume and make up on the dailies made me blink: it was as if the comic had come to life.

MATTHEW – Dream’s trusted emissary. A raven. I expected our animals to be CGI, and was both taken aback and thrilled when the dailies started coming in, and there was Dream talking to... well, a raven. But ravens don't really talk. The question was, could we find an actor who could make you care about a dead person who was now a bird in the Dreaming – one who isn't certain what's going on, or whether any of this is a good idea? And could we find a voice performer who was also the kind of Sandman fan who used to stand in line to get his Sandman comics signed? The answer was, we could if we asked Patton Oswalt (he/him). And Patton was the first person we asked, and the first person we cast, the day before we pitched The Sandman to Netflix.

Of course, there are more delights and nightmares cast than I've listed here, and we have a few more secrets up our sleeves. I can't wait until you can start watching.

#Sandman

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angelasscribbles · 2 years ago

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Coronation

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: this is really about the sibling relationship, see author's note below

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 593

A/N: This is a short one-shot for the spring holiday event at @choicesholidays. Holiday: National Sibling Day, which was on April 10th. I wanted to rewrite coronation night from the perspective of the people who had the trajectory of their lives changed, either by abdicating or by being the one to step up. And I wanted to show the strength of the sibling relationship through that. With that in mind, this is an AU in which the scandal never happens because I want the focus of this piece to be on the coronation itself and not on someone getting dragged out of it.

My other stuff: Master List.

The grand ballroom was packed. It was coronation night and half of Cordonia had turned out to watch.

The other half would be watching from their television sets. News crews were spread out in strategic places throughout the room.

The former crown prince took his place in the audience. A scant few months ago he thought it would be him on that dais, his head that would be receiving the crown, his life that would be dedicated to duty and sacrifice.

He wondered if he had dumped too much responsibility into his younger sibling’s lap, but he knew that, between the two of them, he was the less prepared to rule, the less willing to make the sacrifices that needed to be made.

He had been prepared to rule, yes. He had been raised to rule, yes. But everything changed when he met her.

He’d given up the crown and abdicated his place in the line of succession for love. He glanced down at the woman next to him, his heart swelling with emotion as she smiled up at him.

It had been worth it. He had no regrets.

He stole a quick glance across the room at his brother’s face, thinking about how much they had in common.

On the dais, Cordonia’s next monarch stood next to their father, eyes scanning the room and lighting up when they landed on him. He smiled back encouragingly, quashing the sliver of guilt that remained even though he was confident he had made the best choice for everyone involved.

He knew his father disapproved but what was done was done.

Constantine stepped up to the microphone and started his speech, “Fellow Cordonians, welcome! I’m so pleased to have you all join us for tonight’s historic event! I appreciate your patience; I know this isn’t the Rys you were originally expecting, but this is exactly why royal couples from time immemorial are encouraged to produce spares!”

There was polite laughter from the audience as the two brothers locked eyes across the room remembering how their father had privately accused his children of playing musical chairs with the monarchy.

But the Rys children had made a pact long ago to stand united in the face of their father’s disapproval and they had never wavered from that alliance even into adulthood. The fact that the youngest sibling was standing on the dais instead of the oldest was proof of that.

Constantine finished his speech and Liam tore his eyes away from Leo to watch as their father placed the crown on Lena’s head.

He had willingly stepped up when Leo abdicated for love, and Lena had willingly stepped up when he’d done the same. He glanced down at Riley as he applauded knowing he had made the right choice. He smiled across the room at Leo who stood next to his new wife, Olivia Nevrakis Rys and he whistled and shouted in approval when his sister made her selection and got engaged to Hana Lee.

Their father had little choice after Lena had threatened to also abdicate if not allowed to make her own choice freely. Leo and Liam had backed her up and both had promised to acquiesce to their father’s wishes for them to stay and support the monarchy if she was given that freedom.

All three Rys children had been able to choose love for themselves because all three had loved and supported each other. Together, they had overcome their father’s attempt to control their lives. Together, they would lead Cordonia into a better future.

#trr au #the royal romance #liam rys #leo rys #trr fanfiction #choicesholidays #sibling day #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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stressedoutcanary · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-”

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid.

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing.

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth. They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that. ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled, his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room.

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.

°•°•°•°•

241 notes · View notes

hannahhook7744 · 3 years ago

Note

Who's Gunner Harp?

Gunner Harp Application;

Name: Gunner Constantine Harp.

Known Aliases: Angel Boy, The Younger Cupid, The Harp's son, Cupid's boy, the winged Medic, the child minder, the quiet boy, the orphan boy, Gunner Valetine, and The Back up, Back Medic.

I don't know whether that's cute or depressing.

Stop it Aaron, you're making me blush.

I can't help it. It's a fun sight to see.

Nicknames or Other: Gunny, Guns, Gun, 'ner, G.C, Mr. Harp, G.H, G, Mr. Cupid, Mr. Lover boy, winger, Cupid Jr., Harp Jr., mi amore, and wings.

Wait. Most of these I came up with.

Yep.

I- wow. That's news to me.

--- and to absolutely no one else.

Date of Birth or Best Guess: 12 years ago on Valetine's day.

Ironic.

I know.

Place of Birth: Isle of the lost.

I don't know man, I think it's quite possible that you fell from heaven or something considering just how sickening sweet and good natured you are.

That sounds like a bad pick line.

You would know.

Favorite Color: White, pink, and red. Red like Aaron's eyes.

Wait what?

Don't make it werid. It was just an example.

Bullshit.

See, Howiee agrees with me!

Well you're both wrong.

Favorite Activity: Playing the harp, archery, flying, and bird watching.

If either of you make a single joke about my mother, I will make you regret it.

How? By making me fall in love?

Annnnnnd that's my cue to go.

Favorite School Subject: Artists and thieves, only the Artist part though.

Even though you are terrible at art.

Hey they said FAVORITE not BEST!

True, I guess.

Father's Name (or alias): Cupid/Eros.

Wait does that mean you're part God?

Well, more like a quarter maybe? I don't know.

Also why are you not half Harp?

Dude, you can't just ask someone why they aren't half harp!

What he said.

I thought he was gonna leave?

Well, I changed my mind.

And sides. Apparently.

I did not!

Guys. We don't have time for this.

Mother's Name (or alias): Golden "Goldy" Harp.

She was nice. I miss her.

We know ya do, buddy.

She'd be proud of you.

I don't even know why she was on the isle. She and my sister didn't belong here.

We know.

Father's Profession: Making people fall in love.

I wonder if you picked up that talent.

Please stop.

Why?

You know why.

I'm confused. What's going on?

Don't worry about it.

Mother's Profession: She was a harp.

Is it okay if I ask how that works?

No.

I doubt he wants to think that way about his parents, dude. And frankly I don't want to either.

Don't make it werid.

How am I the one who made it werid?!

You two are unbelievable.

You love us and you know it.

Hey don't bring me into this.

Who is your favorite of the first wave of VKs? There is no wrong answer.

Hannah, my captain. My loyal friend. My family.

Wow, you're laying it on a little thick there, aren't ya Gunner?

What? Can't I miss our friend and be honest about it?

Ignore him, Gun. He's just teasing ya.

In your own words, tell us why you want to come to Auradon. There is no wrong answer.

I want to go to Auardon so I can see my friend again and my father again. I want to be able to love freely. I want to be happy and safe, and free. I wanna fly without worry of being shot down or kidnapped or flying into something. A bird isn't meant to be in a cage for this long. And I'm particularly a bird. I don't belong here. None of us kids do. Ask Hannah, she'd tell you that.

Oh she'd tell them ALOT more than that.

And in a lot STRONGER words.

Words that would get her sent to the corner very quickly.

She must hate it there.

Agreed.

I can't imagine not being allowed to swear.

That's because you're you.

Signature:

Gunner Harp.

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sfb123 · 4 years ago

Text

Whatcha Wearin’ Under There?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt # 93 “Was this what made her [him, them,you] happy?” which will appear in bold.

Pairing: Liam x Riley

A/N: I was having a conversation with @kat-tia801 and @queenrileyrose this afternoon, and it got pretty lit, we ended up complaining about the horrible underwear choices for the male LIs in TRR, one thing lead to another, and this idea was born. Now one of you just needs to write the other underwear shopping idea that came up.

Thank you to my fandom soulmate @jessiembruno for helping me design the perfect sexy underwear. It definitely turned out way better than the real life examples I have lying around my house.

Word Count: 1,140

Rating/Warning: PG-13 bordering on R, I’m towing that 🍋 line, but it’s all implied.

All Characters belong to Pixelberry

Tags: Listed below. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Liam slipped out of the bed, his back to Riley as he put his underwear on. When he turned around, he saw that she had rolled to her side and was watching him dress. “Like what you see?” He said with a smirk.

Riley smiled nervously, this was as good a time as any to bring it up. “Um...not really?”

“I’m sorry?” Liam couldn’t hide the shocked, and slightly hurt expression on his face.

She immediately sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet over her chest. “Oh no no no Liam, not like that! I love the product, it’s just the wrapper I’m not a huge fan of.”

“Come again?”

“Listen, I know it’s called European cut, but just because you’re from Europe doesn’t mean you are bound by law to wear man panties.”

Liam chuckled and sat on the bed, wrapping his arm around her. “Love, I had no idea you had such an aversion to my undergarments.”

“It’s not that.” Riley paused, her mind racing to find the best possible reasoning to get her way, she turned to him as soon as she determined the perfect route to take. “You want kids right? I mean, you need them, heirs to the throne and all.” He nodded curious as to where this was going. “Well, boxers are better for your sperm count. It makes conceiving way easier. It’s science. I’m only looking out for you, and for Cordonia.”

“Is that so?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well the Rys line has been around for centuries, so perhaps this style isn’t quite as limiting as you have been led to believe.”

Riley grimaced, partly because that reason didn’t work, but the other was the mental image of Constantine in his underwear that Liam had just planted in her head. She shook it off, she couldn’t have that rattling around in her brain if she was going to get plan b to work. She shifted so that she was straddling his lap, letting the sheet she was holding slip away.

“You know how sometimes, when you undress me, I’m wearing those cute little surprises for you?” He audibly gulped and nodded in response as her fingers slowly trailed across his chest. “Well, don’t you want to wear something that will make me just as...excited as I make you?” She tilted her head down slightly and looked up at him through her lashes, biting her bottom lip.

“Yes, my queen.” He pulled her mouth to his in a hungry kiss, thrusting his hips up, both groaning at the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“Mmmm...now my king,” she said in a low sultry voice, as their lips parted, “imagine how much more comfortable that would be if you had more room for everything.” She gestured at his growing bulge.

“Love, I don’t care what I’m wearing, as long as you’re the one taking it off of me.” He flipped them so that he was now hovering over her, causing Riley to yelp. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow, I will get anything you want.” He kissed her again as her hands slid down to his waist to free him from his confines.

The next day, Riley and Liam stepped through the doors of one of the local Cordonian shops. They had sent the guard ahead of time to close down and secure the store, to insure the utmost privacy for their intimate excursion. Riley rushed toward the racks while Liam lingered behind, smiling to himself at his wife’s excitement.

“Come on Liam, these are for you, you should come pick some that you like!” She waived for him to join her.

“That’s alright, all that matters is that you are happy with the selections. I’m sure I will love whatever you choose.”

Riley shook her head, laughing to herself, continuing to pull her selections from the rack. She continued to riffle through the options, running her fingers along the materials, and admiring the selection. Once her arms were full, she hurried over to Liam and handed everything over to him. “Ok, go see what you think!”

“You’re not coming in with me to help?”

“Oh, I have no problem going in there and helping you take things off. It’s the having to put things on that may prove difficult. You’d better fly solo on this one.” She said, placing a light pat on his behind. He laughed and gave her a kiss before moving into the changing room.

Once inside, Liam held up the first pair and examined them carefully, Was this what made her happy? He thought to himself, confused as to why one would need so much material if the intention was to just cover up his private areas. He shrugged before pulling off his clothes, changing into the Versace boxer briefs that Riley had chosen for him. The first thing he noticed was the color, green. He smiled to himself, knowing she settled on that color because it was her favorite. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, feeling the luxurious cotton fabric that covered him. They did feel nice, but it still felt like an odd amount of material for an undergarment.

He peeked his head out from behind the curtain searching for Riley, who was seated on a chaise on the other end of the fitting room, scrolling through her phone. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up and smiled. “Alright, bring on the sexy fashion show.” She rubbed her palms together in anticipation.

Liam stepped out of the changing area and walked forward, stopping just in front of her and placing his hands on his hips. “Riley, love, aren’t these just a pair of shorts?”

She laughed at the comment and approached him to get a better look. “No Liam, they’re underwear, I promise. How do they feel?”

“Quite comfortable, actually. I’m just afraid they will be cumbersome when I am wearing pants over them.”

“You’ll get used to it. I promise.” She reached up and kissed him on the nose. “Are you going to get them?” She asked hopefully.

“Do you like them?” At his question, her eyes roamed up and down his body, licking her lips as she did, and finally nodding her head. “Then I will get them in every color they have, and two of the green.” He winked.

“Great! You should go change so we can check out and head home. Like now.”

Liam could tell by the heat in her voice exactly why she was in such a hurry to get back to the palace. “Why don’t you come with me? I would love to have your assistance.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“Yup. Totally. Let’s do that.” She nodded her head frantically and pulled him into the dressing room.

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One Shots: @bebepac @darley1101

Liam x Riley: @jared2612

@wackydrabbles @choicesficwriterscreations

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eadanga · 3 years ago

Text

The Royal Romance Chapter 3

Parings: LiamxMC

Riley spots Liam entering the ballroom standing next to an older man which she presumed is the king. She takes a step back as she looks him up and down blushing He looks so handsome She takes a deep breath “Well I guess I’m gonna go talk to him”

Maxwell nods “Great looks like they’re ready for you gonna present you to King Constantine first you’ll want to make a good impression on him so he’ll consider you a worthy match then you get your big chance to talk to Liam”

Riley nods “Ok I’ve got it” Maxwell takes her hand and leads her to the king Riley takes another deep breath Just meeting a king gotta make a good impression on him no pressure

Maxwell gives the king a short bow “Your royal highness may I present Lady Riley Brooks”

Constantine gives a small nod “Of course”

Out the corner of her eye Riley can see Olivia smirking Bitch really thinks I’m gonna do that Riley curtsies for the King “Your highness”

The King smiles “It’s a pleasure to meet the suitor Lord Maxwell’s house has chosen I hope you enjoy your time in Cordonia”

Riley smiles “Thank you” As Maxwell leads her away to the line of ladies waiting to see the princes she looks over at Olivia who frowns and walks outside and smirks Take that bitch She turns to Maxwell “Lord Maxwell huh?”

Maxwell grins “That’s my title you can refer me as His Lordship from now on if you really want”

Riley gently pats him on the shoulder “Eh I like you better as a Maxwell”

Maxwell smiles “Maxwell it is then now look sharp”

The line of ladies has shortened and Riley smiles I can’t wait to see Liam again

Maxwell releases her hand “Here’s your big moment don’t blow it”

Riley grins “I won’t”

Maxwell walks away and Riley takes a step forward towards Liam

“Hello you have to forgive me but I don’t think we’ve met”

He doesn't recognize me? Let me have some fun with this Riley gives her most polite smile “And how does a prince greet a mystery woman?”

Liam smiles “With a kiss on the hand I hope”

Riley grins and raises her hand Liam takes it and Liam presses his lips to it. He smiles “Now I believe I know every lady her but your presence is so baffling to me” He grins “So who are you? What brings you here?”

“You brought me I think all the women here tonight are for you”

“In a manner of speaking but no ones ever surprised me like this”

Riley smiles “And you’ll be even more surprised when you find out the truth”

“And what’s that?”

Riley smirks “No guesses yet?”

****

Liam stares straight into her eyes and his eyes go wide I know those eyes anywhere He grins “Riley I never thought I’ll see you again”

“So this is a good surprise I hope?”

Liam grins wider “The best but how did you get here?”

“Maxwell and his brother are sponsoring me he brought me here to join the other suitors”

“Really? That’s amazing I can’t believe you came here all the way for me”

Riley smiles “I know we have something special and I want to see want it can be”

Liam smiles “I feel the same way” He reaches out and touches her hand God she’s so beautiful But then he hears Bastien his guard clearing his throat

“Ahem”

Liam immediately drops her hand I gotta control myself no matter how much I want to… He takes a deep breath You gotta relax Liam

He turns to Riley “We’re not in New York anymore Riley the rules here are different this entire set up is not just to give me time with my matches but also to give my parents the council and the people of Cordonia to get to know their future queen from now on everyone will be watching you” He sighs Just when we were having a moment the Bastien had to ruin it hope she’s not upset about it or overwhelmed by all this His worry disappears when he see her smile “Great that sounds like fun”

Liam smiles “I knew you’ll be up for the challenge I’m sure you’ll charmed them as you charmed me” He sighs “Unfortunately the receiving line isn’t the best place to talk we have only a few more minutes before the next lay arrives”

“In that case I want to know are you glad I’m here”

Liam grins “How can you even ask I’m thrilled I look forward to seeing you at all these events I just hope you don’t regret coming here” Liam looks over her shoulder and sees the next noble lady approaching He sighs “Sorry our time is up”

Riley frowns “I understand we’re really not in New York anymore are we?”

She hates it as much as I do I hate to see her sad like this “No I hope to see you again later tonight if you’ll save a dance for me”

Riley nods and walks away Liam watches her go

“Your highness we should keep moving”

Liam sighs and turns to the next lady “Right” He whispers “Also me touching her hand wasn’t that big of deal”

“Just trying to move things along your highness”

Liam sighs as he turns to the next lady

****

Riley walks to Maxwell who grins “It looks like Liam was very happy to see you”

“Yeah but is it gonna be enough I also have to impress the royal court and the people of Cordonia”

“Don’t worry you have plenty of time for that and my brother Bertrand and I are gonna be here with you every step of the way remember we want you to win this thing”

“Right”

“For now it’ll be a good start to meet the other courtly ladies they might be your competition but you might be able to make some of them your allies Bertrand and I are helpful but the more people on your side the better”

“I’m on it”

Riley waves at Maxwell and heads outside where the other ladies are having drinks. Riley walks over to the table and grabs a drink and hears Olivia’s voice behind her

“Riley you were awfully familiar with the prince you didn’t say you knew him”

Riley turns to her taking a sip of her drink “And so what if do? That’s not your business”

Olivia glares at her “Oh but it is my business everything that has to do with Prince Liam is my business”

Riley looks at her unfazed “I don’t see your name on him”

Olivia smirks “Soon it will be after all I’m likely to be his queen when this competition is over”

“I wouldn’t count on that”

“Listen you should know that whatever happened between you and Liam is over you don’t really have a chance with him you might have caught his attention when it was just the two of you but you can’t keep up with the other ladies here were from the finest families in Europe and we’ve been preparing and training to marry the prince” She jabs a finger at Riley “You can’t just waltz in here at the last minute and steal him from us” She gestures towards a girl in a black and gold dress and mask “Kiara here is the daughter of a diplomat and fluent in 10 languages”

Kiara smiles “Le Prince va tomber amoureux de moi”

Olivia gestures to another girl in blue and purple dress and mask “Penelope here can track her lineage back through 600 years or royalty”

Penelope nods “It’s an honor to represent my people here”

“Even Hana’s been training to learn the courtly graces of conversation and seduction”

Hana looks surprised “Uh thanks?”

Penelope sets down her drink “But if anyone’s got the inside track on the prince it’s you Olivia you’ve known him his entire life”

“It’s true we’ve grown up in the palace together as childhood friends before his older brother abdicated it was just assumed that Liam and I would be married one day I’ve got no intention of losing him to one of you harpies” She smirks “No offense”

This bitch is so annoying Riley turns to the other ladies “You guys let her talk to you like this”

Penelope shrugs “She’s just stating facts no need to get emotional about it”

Kiara nods “We all knew what we were getting into here MC didn’t you?”

Riley looks at them confused What are they robots? How can Maxwell expect me to get any of these people on my side?

Olivia smirks “Don’t worry ladies I’ll make sure Riley knows her place her” She glares at Riley “Or else I’ll make her life hell”

Riley rolls her eyes “Oh please entertain me what exactly do you think is my place here?”

“Oh somewhere below Penelope and Kiara but you know what probably above Hana” Olivia turns to Hana “But I’m surprise Hana’s here after what I heard about her last engagement attempt”

Hana almost spits out her drink “Olivia!”

“Well we all know that your family will throw you at any available bachelor as long as it means you can climb another run on the social ladder but honestly it’s a bit much to expect that Prince Liam is interested in damaged goods”

Riley looks over at Hana who’s bright red and tears welling in her eyes “I…I need to…excuse me” She sets down her drink and pushes past everyone

Riley grabs her arm “Hana wait don’t listen to them”

Hana turns to her “Thanks…but what she saying it’s…I’m sorry Riley” Hana runs inside

Olivia sighs “Girls like her shouldn’t be here if they can’t handle the truth”

Riley turns to her “What truth? The one where you act like a child? Cause if this how you behave I wouldn’t trust you with child proof scissors let alone a kingdom”

Olivia sputters “I…you can’t”

“I just did”

Riley turns around and runs into the palace. She runs across the ballroom and into the hallway. She sees Hana running into a room and closing the door. Riley quickly heads for the room and sees Hana on the bed with tears running down her face

“For a noble you sure do run fast in heels”

Hana turns and sees Riley standing in the doorway “Riley what are you doing here?”

Riley walks over to the bed and sits down next to her “See if you wanted me to beat up Olivia for you”

“Beat her up?”

Riley punches her fist into her hand “Yeah with the way she acts and says someone’s gonna punch her and it maybe me”

Hana gives a small smile “Heh maybe but hope not on my account” She sighs as she wipes a tear “I know I shouldn’t let Olivia get to me you probably think I’m making a fool out of myself”

Riley shakes her head “Not at all I think your being human”

“Really?”

“Yeah you have to be like the rest of those robots out there to not let her get under your skin”

Hana sighs again “The real problem is Olivia’s right last year my parents arranged a very advantageous match for me but only a few weeks before the wedding the groom pulled out of the engagement. It was handled quietly but still regarded rather scandalous since then my parents have been desperate for me to find another match. They’ve all but thrown me into this competition I thought Cordonia was far enough to escape my past but it looks like the rumors followed me here”

Riley takes her hand “A broken engagement is nothing to be ashamed of”

Hana looks at her surprised “It’s not?”

“Yeah stuff like that happens in the real world all the time you know I’ve been in lots of relationships that didn’t work out doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you in the heart of it I think we both know why Olivia singled you out”

“Why?”

“She bullies you cause she senses weakness and we gotta toughen you up”

“Toughen me up?”

Riley grins “Yeah the next time she picks on you say something snappy back at her”

“I don’t think I can do that”

“Not even for standing up for yourself?”

Hana shakes her head “It’s just not my way of doing things”

“Well at least make her see that she’s not getting to you”

“Like a poker face? I can do that” She smiles “Well Riley I finds myself in your debt today”

“It’s not a big deal”

“On the contrary your words have spoken volumes of your character I won’t forget this” Hana wipes her eyes again “I must look like a mess”

Riley smiles “Nothing a quick touch up wont fix”

Hana nods as she reapplies her makeup She grins “There much better”

Riley stands as she smiles “Ready to go back”

“Yes”

They walk back into the ballroom as a waltz begins to play Maxwell runs up to Riley “Riley there you are he last dance is starting up I think you and Liam deserve this one”

Riley looks around the ballroom and sees Liam talking to Penelope “…and of course you’re looking dashing tonight”

“It might be rude to cut in but”

Riley smiles “Say no more I know what to do”

Tags: @indiacater @the-soot-sprite @mfackenthal @gkittylove99 @iaminlovewithtrr @princess-geek @ta-sayeed

#Royal Romance #the royal romance #the royal finale #choices trr #trr/trh #trr liam #king liam #liam x mc #Liam Rys #choices fanfiction

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Hold Me Close

John Constantine x Original Female Character, Angst/Hurt Comfort

A/N: So this little bit of self-indulgence turned into a thing, because it's me and of course it did. I'm still in the early stages of developing Evie and her relationships, so please let me know what you think.

Warning: Mentions of child neglect, lots of crying

Summary: After an emotionally draining day, Evie finds herself with some unexpected company.

Word Count: 2.6K

The Waverider was completely silent, a rarity on the best of days, and a blessed relief to Evie.

She sat in the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea in her hands. She hadn't taken a single sip in the fifteen minutes since she made it.

All the emotions of the day were simmering to the surface. A tightness clung to her throat making it hard for her to breath. She needed to cry. She needed to sleep. She needed to scream. She needed so many things, all she could do was sit and stare into nothing.

"Are you ever going to drink that?"

Evie blinked. Looking up, she finally noticed John leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and tie.

"John? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She wanted to say something smart. On any other day she might have, but she was just too tired to be clever. Instead, she raised her mug to her lips and finally took a sip.

It was warm and did its job, loosening the lump in her throat, but it did little to help with the one in her chest.

"Need something stronger?" John suggested.

She shook her head. "This is about as strong as I can handle right now."

"Fair enough."

She expected that to be the end of it. But he surprised her, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a drink.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, misery loves company."

"And what have you got to be miserable about?"

He gave her a cynical smile. "Oh don't you worry love, I’ll think of something."

He took a seat beside her and raised his glass in a toast.

Evie obliged, clicking her mug against the tumbler before drinking.

They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, but there were questions hanging in the air that needed to be addressed.

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I told you."

She shot him a skeptical look.

He let out a sigh. "I don't sleep most nights. I saw you in here and..." He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I saw the look on your face when you saw your mum."

The tightness came back in her throat. Quickly, she turned back to her tea and took a long swig. All it did was stall the inevitable.

"How much did Michael tell you?" she asked, with a twist in her stomach.

"Not much," he admitted. "Just that his dad died before he knew him, didn't talk to his mum and that his sister was about the only parent he ever really had."

Evie huffed out a short laugh. It certainly sounded like the description Michael would give, and a more accurate one than she was willing to admit before.

"I take it there's a bit more to it than that," he continued.

She nodded. "Just a bit."

She took a drink, once again assuming a natural end to the conversation.

"You're just going to leave me with that?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"You seem to know most everything about me, whether I like it or not,” he answered, casually. “I like to work on an even playing field."

Evie considered him for a moment. It seemed like a reasonable answer. Still she couldn't help but feel her problems were childish compared to his. There was a reason she kept them to herself. Nobody actually wanted to know.

She turned her head away, her fingers rubbing absentmindedly against the mug. If she kept her mouth shut for just a few moments, he'd forget the whole thing.

She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. Her grip tightened. She willed herself to breathe.

"Evelyn..."

She stopped.

Looking down, she finally noticed rough fingers pressed gently around her wrist. She followed the line connecting the fingers to a hand, then to an arm, moving her gaze ever up until she dared a glance at the man they were attached to.

John’s expression was not soft, but his eyes held something she had not seen in a long time; a need to understand. How could she say no to that?

“My dad died when I was eight,” she began, swallowing the roughness of her voice. “My mum took it really hard. She might as well have been dead that first year. I’m not sure she even left her bed. Gran watched after her and didn’t want me or Michael causing trouble.

“Eventually though Mum was able to leave the house and Gran even got her a job at a pub not far from where we lived. But, it didn’t last long. Mum just...wasn’t there anymore. She’d forget to go into work or mess up orders or any number of other things until eventually they had to let her go. She didn’t work after that. Dad’s life insurance kept us afloat and Gran helped so, it wasn’t like we were starving. Even so, she would still...forget. By the time I was ten I was cooking most of the meals and made sure to stop by the shop on my way home from school, that sort of thing. And Mum would just...drift. It was like living with a ghost.”

Evie paused, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I can remember my dad, before he died. I can see his face. I remember bedtime stories and how he called me his little Evie Rose. But, for whatever reason, any time I try to remember what my mum was like, I draw a blank. Every memory I have of her is as this...corpse. It was easy for me to believe she was always like that. I convinced myself she couldn’t help it. She didn’t choose not to be there. She was trying and I just needed to pick up where she couldn’t. That was my job.”

Her throat tightened. She sucked in a breath and let it out with a slow quaver.

“But seeing her today, before...everything. She was real. She was real and alive and...there.”

Warm tears spilled down her face. She wiped them away, trying and failing to keep them in check.

“I know grief affects people differently. I know it does. I can’t imagine losing the love of my life like that. But I was her child. Michael was just three years old. We were alive and scared and confused, and we needed her. I needed my Mom and she wouldn’t…”

There was no stopping the tears now. Anger and resentment and grief twenty six years in the making poured out of her. It burned her skin, even if she tried to hide it, ever aware of the man watching her in careful silence.

“I spent so long telling myself it wasn’t her fault. I blamed myself for not doing better by her. But she never cared. I know she was grieving, but at some point she decided her grief was more important than her own children.”

She stopped, forcing herself to fill her lungs with much needed air.

“And I would get so angry. I used to think Michael was just being selfish, that he only cared about himself. But he knew. He knew what she was doing was wrong. He just wanted me to see it too. God, I said so many awful things.”

Guilt weighed in her stomach as she pushed away her straggling tears. She could still feel the prickling behind her eyes, but she didn’t want to spill any more than she had. She had no right to them.

“I’m just a horrible mess of a person.”

A scoff came at her side.

She turned, to see John shaking his head.

“Something funny?”

“Aye, everything,” he said, sardonically. “Trust a Catholic to come to that conclusion.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon Evie, you’re not a horrible anything. You looked after your brother and your mum when no one else would. When you should have given up on her is a matter for yourself to deal with, but you’re not a bad person for holding out hope. As for Michael, I have a feeling he’s not as resentful as you think he is. Besides, he definitely had some of it coming.”

Evie couldn’t think of what to say, but the corner of her lip did quirk up, just a little. Still, guilt lingered and exhaustion was now taking the place of her anger. The prickling was back, reminding her of the tears still left to shed.

“Now, how about that drink,” John said.

Evie let out a long sigh, rubbing her hand across her face. "Not a bad idea. Honestly, what I could really go for is someone to just hold me for two or three...hours." She tried to make it sound like a joke, but the strain on her voice made her attempt at laughter come off as forced and awkward.

The look on John's face only made her feel worse. He had been uncharacteristically kind to her already. Now, she just made an embarrassing situation down right uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I laid this all on you,” she said. “I should just go to bed.”

She stood quickly, not even bothering to grab her mug as she headed towards the exit.

She barely made it two steps when a hand grasped at her own.

“Wait.”

She turned.

He was still sitting. His eyes focused on their intertwined fingers. The expression on his face was unreadable. For a moment, she thought he’d let go and forget the whole thing. But then, he came to a decision.

Standing, he took a step toward her, never dropping his grip for a moment. He watched her, carefully checking she had no objections to how close he was.

Her stillness was his answer.

Reaching out his free hand, he cradled her head and guided her to him.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to do.

His hand slipped from hers, but found no place to land, as if he wasn't sure where exactly to touch her. All the same, the intent was felt.

Taking initiative, she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

His clothes still held the scent of detergent with just a bit the tobacco smoke she secretly loved. She let herself breathe it in, enjoying the warmth against her cheek and the firmness of his body.

Slowly his hands found purpose. One wrapped tight around her waist while the other curled gently in her hair.

For a while, they just stood there, neither of them daring to break the quiet calm that had settled in the air.

"It's alright Eves," John whispered into her ear. "I've got you, love. It's alright."

It was only then Evie realized she was crying again. The tears and emotions leaked out of her, spilling over the side like an over filled sink. She was starting to shake, trying and failing to keep her breath in check all the while John held on, pressing her even closer into him.

"You're alright," he promised. "I've got you, Eves. You're alright."

The tears weren’t as violent as before. This was catharsis. The last breath of emotional release she needed. So, she let herself feel.

She cried for her brother. She cried for her father. She cried for what might have been and what was. All of it came out in gentle sobs made bearable by the man who wouldn’t let go.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but after a while she had nothing more to give. Her breath returned to something manageable. Her heart, no longer quiet as heavy. Still, she couldn’t pull away from John just yet. She was too tired and he felt too good. She could see herself closing her eyes and staying right there until her legs gave out.

“Not that I’ve got anywhere to be,” he said, gently. “But were you serious about the two to three hours thing?”

She laughed, a real one this time; short, but bright and welcome.

“No,” she assured. “I wouldn’t do that to your reputation.”

He didn’t say anything back, but she took the hint.

With a great effort, she pulled herself from him, leaving her skin colder for it. Now that she had a proper view, a sudden spike of embarrassment shot through her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, immediately reaching to brush away the obvious stain on his shirt.

John looked down as if just noticing himself.

“Oh believe me, I’ve been covered in worse. Besides, holy woman’s oughta be good for something.”

“I’m not that holy,” she said, with not as much annoyance as that sentence usually carried.

“But you are good,” he countered. “You can’t be anything else.”

Again, something was missing from this usual exchange. The irony had somehow disappeared. The way he was looking at her now, she could believe he meant them.

Then, something happened. His expression became pensive. His eyes shifted away as he took a small step back, putting some visible distance between them.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his tone now back to its usual guarded self.

Her brow creased in confusion. “You sure you don’t want company?”

“I think if this whole exercise has taught us anything it’s that you need to stop worrying about other people all the time.”

His tone was curt, but there was something performative in it, making it land awkwardly on its intended audience.

All the same, Evie knew rejection when she heard it and felt the intended hurt in her chest.

Apparently it showed on her face as John gave a long sigh. “Look just, get some rest and you can worry about me tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. She didn’t know what she had done to make John’s mood shift so abruptly, but she needed to fix it. He had helped her, after all. It didn’t feel right to end the night like this.

With cautious determination, she took a step forward, effectively closing the gap he had created.

John appeared frozen in place, his brow creased in confusion.

Taking the opportunity, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She was met with rough stubble and the smell of whiskey, a combination she was surprised to find she liked. But couldn’t appreciate it as John turned his head, meeting her eyes.

“Now, why would you do something like that?”

Evie swallowed, a sudden dryness coming to her throat. His lips were much closer to hers than she anticipated.

“I just wanted to say, thank you,” she said, softly. “You’re a good man, John Constantine.”

He looked down at her, his throat and lip tightening as he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

She smiled knowingly. “Yes you are.”

She kissed his cheek again, this time lingering just a moment as if touch would convey the truth of her statement more than her words could.

“Goodnight, John,” she whispered.

To her surprise, he didn’t push her away. His eyes lingered, floating between her eyes and lips and back again.

She held her breath, wondering if he would lean down and feel her lips for himself. She wondered if she would let him.

But he hesitated. A breath was drawn in and his gaze settled on her eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Evie.”

She nodded, feeling the moment slip away as quickly as it had come.

She settled back down on two solid feet, turned and walked back to her room without looking back. Only when the door closed did she allow herself to linger on the burning of her lips and the hard thumping in her chest.

She didn’t know what truly happened between her and John, but there was no use denying it. Something was different and time would only tell what that meant.

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow oc #arrowverse #arrowverse oc #john constantine #john constantine x oc #john constantine x reader #evelyn doyle

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mochegato · 5 years ago

Text

Pixie Spy

Written for the Jasonette July Wayne Gala prompt.

Why?!? Why was she doing this again? Oh right, because John Constantine promised to give her some help with a particularly difficult part of the Grimoire if she did. And he needed the information he was currently obtaining in order to give said help. That is how she ended up with an invitation, still not sure how Constantine pulled that off, to the most exclusive event of the year, the Wayne Gala.

Plus, Adrien was kind of right, ordinarily it would be a great opportunity to showcase her designs. The problem was on its surface, her dress wasn't one of her best works. The black dress had a high, cowl neckline in front and in back, adding a bit of drama and a small homage to the local heroes, vigilantes she silently corrected herself. The high neckline also offset the incredibly short bubble skirt, making her legs look longer than the Nile. Despite being a bit uncomfortable showing that much leg, it was necessary for this particular design and if she could actually feel like she had long legs for once, she was willing to deal with the discomfort. She also added a glittery belt to show her shape and add some bling, which seemed like something the people at this particular event would value. It was functional, not fashionable. Not that it was ugly, just that it was designed to be passable, enough to fit in but not enough to get noticed.

She fidgeted slightly as she stood in the entryway trying to get past the people piling up trying to not so discretely pay homage to the king. That king being Bruce Wayne. From her research, he actually did seem like he was a good guy. The list of charities he started or contributed to was longer than she was tall. She scowled at the voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Adrien's saying that wasn't much. Adrien, who got out of coming tonight because the mission was to observe the Waynes unnoticed and Adrien Agreste would get a bit too much attention, that cat bastard.

Despite the laundry list of charity work, Marinette was still suspicious of Wayne. First of all, he was rich, filthy rich. Anyone that rich had to have some dark and twisted secrets they were hiding. He wouldn’t be the first rich person to hide their illicit activities behind a veil of charity work. Second, he chose to live in Gotham, the most crime-riddled city in the world. And that is just the reported crime. A great deal of the crime never got reported to or investigated by the police, whether through corruption or exhaustion. The kind of place a rich person could be confident they would get away with literal murder.

But mostly, it was Constantine that made her suspicious of Bruce Wayne. Not that Constantine had ever said anything negative about him, well nothing more than calling him a pain in the ass, but that was really not so much an insult as a compliment coming from Constantine. But, Wayne had information Constantine needed to help them with the Grimoire and Constantine refused to say how Wayne had gotten that information. How and why would a playboy billionaire have that information? There is absolutely no reason someone outside of the hero/villain/magic community would have that information. And, if he was such a good guy, why would Constantine need to go to these lengths to get it without Wayne’s knowledge? Unless it was related to one of his illicit secrets.

Her eyes darted around the room taking in its grandeur, muttering to herself about how ostentatious it all was. Normally, she would be completely mesmerized by the grandeur and pomp of the scene. The room was decorated to perfection. Everything was absolutely exquisite. However, she was too anxious and wary to enjoy it. So instead of being inspired, each gorgeous detail grated on her. She reached up to tug on her hair before remembering her hair had been pulled up into an elegant twist held in place with a single silver pin. With her normal anxiety relief method unavailable, she instead shifted nervously from foot to foot while she scanned the room trying to catch sight of the rest of the Waynes, gently tightening and loosening her grip on her purse, trying not to crush Tikki.

She was so lost in her anxiety she didn't notice the dark haired man walking behind her take notice of her and stop. He stood behind her with a nonchalance that didn’t seem to fit a man his size. He watched her fidget and muttering to herself about “damn rich people” with a smile on his face.

“You don't seem excited to be here” he said quietly.

She turned around with wide eyes, shocked that someone had heard her. Whatever she was expecting to see it was not what she saw in front of her. The man towered over her. Even in her ridiculously, dangerously high heels, Chloe insisted, her head didn’t even come up to his chin. He was also extremely handsome, with chiseled features and the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen. Those eyes were going to be a problem. They were clear and kind and roguish and hypnotizing. His black hair with a shock of white was slightly tousled giving the impression of a rouge trying to look sophisticated. Was it inappropriate to imagine running her hand through his hair and along his sharp jawline? Yeah, probably not appropriate and likely not welcome. Clean up your thoughts, girl! Great, now Alya was in her head scolding her. No, that’s not right, because that would definitely not be Alya’s advice.

He was grinning at her with an impish look in his eyes. “What? Not impressed with the ‘we care about whatever the point of this gala is, but we’re not hobos so let’s not skimp on the luxury for us’ décor? Or maybe it is the illustrious, soul sucking, benefactors of Gotham that have set you on edge.” The smile he shot her was guarded and critical. She chuckled lightly and looked away. “You have good judgement and a good reason to be suspicious. But you made it to The event of the season, so you must have done something right… or wrong.”

She hummed and looked away. “Have you ever had one of those days where everything went wrong and now you don't know how you got where you are or why you are there?”

“I’m familiar with the feeling,” he nodded.

“That's my life. All of it. Every single fucking day. This one included."

He barked out a laugh and looked at her again appraising her. “Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine. I think I like you. You might just make this torture session more bearable. See you around,” he chuckled as he walked away.

Marinette watched the man’s retreating back. The night was already going better than she thought it would. But the plan for the night wasn’t to find a date it was to act as a scout and keep tabs on the… enemy? For all intents and purposes, that is what the Waynes were tonight, right? They had information that she needed, that Paris needed, and they apparently weren’t going to part with it willingly, so they were the enemy. No, enemy sounded too harsh she chided herself. Opposition? Yes, they were the opposition. That sounded much less hostile, more like a game… a game where people’s lives were on the line. You know, just for fun, no pressure.

She found a spot against a wall she could use. It was slightly raised but not well lit so it wouldn’t draw attention to her. From her spot she could finally see the family. It was very thoughtful of them to group together like that. She could see the little one, stiff and military-like posture, glowering at the people around him. He was standing as far away from the rest of the people there as he could without actually leaving the room. Much closer to the dancefloor, she could see the middle boy talking to a few business men. They all had fake smiles plastered on their faces as they made seemingly insignificant small talk. She did not envy him that experience. Between the two and to the side was the oldest son. He was chatting up some business person’s daughter, leaning in a lot closer than etiquette would dictate. Just the father then… there he was still not too far from the door talking to a dark haired woman. He had his arm around her waist as she leaned into him. She must be the girlfriend then. Mari made a note that she should probably pay attention to where she was as well. Fortunately, the spot she had chosen gave her a great vantage point. Unfortunately, her observation spot wasn’t as unnoticed as she had hoped.

___________________________________________________________

Jason made his way over to the bar and ordered a beer. He still hadn’t spoken to his family to let them know he was there and he definitely needed a drink before he approached them. Why the fuck was he here again? Fucking Batman.

Fresh glass of beer in hand, he made his way over to his brothers, refusing to acknowledge any of the partygoers along the way. He watched as his brothers took note of his approach and excused themselves from their conversation partners. Dick didn’t look too happy to turn away from the latest interest, smiling at her and giving her reassurances before sending her away. Tim looked less happy to have to turn away from the men he was talking with. He should be thanking Jason really. He was giving him an out from having to deal with them and their god awful personalities and fashion. Seriously, who told that guy that tie was okay. Even the Riddler would think that tie was obnoxious.

“Okay, I’m here,” Jason said taking a large swig of his drink. “How long before I can ditch this bottomless pit of misery?”

“Woah, slow down there. You’re going to get drunk before the announcement.” Dick cautioned him.

“Do you want me here or do you want me sober? You’re going to have to choose one. They’re mutually exclusive, Dickweed.”

“Come on Jaybird, we all have to be here. None of the rest of us are getting drunk.”

“That’s just because I’m smarter than you guys are,” he said tipping his glass to Tim who had scoffed at the suggestion and took another drink. “There is no reason we all have to be here. We shouldn’t all have to suffer. And officially, I’m not even a member of this hellscape of a family anymore so I really shouldn’t have to be here.”

“If The Disappointment gets to leave, so do I. Someone should be patrolling tonight instead of all of us wasting our time entertaining these harpies. And if one more person tries to touch me on my head I’m going to break a hand.”

“Stop it! Nobody is leaving, Damian. We’re in this together. And Jason, if anyone got to go home it wouldn’t be you. You are the reason we all have to be here in the first place; so we can ALL show our support when we officially announce that you are part of this ‘hellscape of a family’ again. So enjoy it,” he said with a cutting smile.

“Not everyone enjoys getting groped by the gold-digging, trust fund whores. I’ve found a way to cope. It’s called alcohol. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he downed the drink in his hand, “my drink is empty. I’m going to go find another.”

“At least try not to interact with anyone. We don’t want to piss anyone off tonight. And I don’t want to have to fix your messes.”

“Way ahead of you, Replacement.” Jason turned and walked away before Dick could reprimand him again. He needed to get away. He could only handle his family in small does, very small doses, miniscule amounts, and he had already surpassed that limit.

He grabbed two more drinks off of a passing waiter’s tray and looked for the Sunshine Girl. He scanned the room sipping the champagne, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room. His size and demeanor was usually enough to keep people away but making eye contact made people think he was open to talking. He was not. He had no interest in making nice with Gotham’s elite. He wanted to get this night over with, with as little pain as possible.

He finally spotted her off to the side of the room speaking with the obnoxious tie guy. Jason watched as the man slid his hand up the side of her leg starting to move under her skirt. Jason started to make his way over to them until he saw her move closer to the man. She was close enough to whisper seductively into his ear now. Ah, not uninvited then. Maybe he had misread her. Well there goes his hope of this party not sucking balls. He started to turn away but noticed a pained expression on the man’s face. He turned back to reexamine the scene. She was holding the man’s hand at an unnatural angle. It was a hold he’d used a few times himself, it was discrete but extremely effective, causing intense pain with a small movement. He knew if she moved her hand just a few more centimeters, she could easily break his wrist.

She let go with a viscous look pushing him away from her as she did. The man shook his hand and scowled at her. He started back toward her and Jason took off running, not pausing to apologize to the people he bumped into along the way. Before he could get to her, she had already taken care of it. She squared her shoulders and glared at the man, making it clear that she could and would continue with her actions if he persisted. When she moved her hand ever so slightly, just enough so he could see it and remember what she had done, the man turned away and smiled at the people who had been standing behind him as though nothing had happened. Jason chuckled to himself watching her move away from the man. She was definitely going to make this night more bearable.

“Looks like you don’t need me around for protection. Although I did bring a drink so maybe I can earn my keep that way,” he said handing her one of the glasses in his hand. “That was extremely impressive. How did you lean to handle yourself like that?”

She accepted the glass and shrugged. “You live in Paris long enough you pick up a few things.”

“That isn’t something you just ‘pick up’. That’s experience.”

“And that is exactly what you get when you have a supervillain terrorizing your streets and thoughts for 5 years; experience. And how do you know about that move? Rich boy secretly a vigilante?” She raised an eyebrow at him giving him a daring smile and pretending to take a drink from the glass. She was on a mission and she didn’t know him. She wasn’t about to actually drink anything a stranger gave her, let alone get drunk.

“You don’t grow up in Gotham without learning how to take down someone trying to cop a feel. And what do you mean about a supervillain in Paris?” he asked taking a step closer to her, concern edging into his stare.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not relevant for tonight.” She said taking a step away and scanning the room again to locate the Waynes.

He looked at her for a few moments taking her in, not just her appearance but how she held herself. She stood with confidence and nonchalance. She wasn’t acting coy, she wasn’t baiting him to ask her more questions, she was serious. There was some kind of supervillain running around Paris that they had no idea about. Well that piqued his interest. He wanted to find out more about that and just his luck, the only person around who knew about it was the gorgeous and badass Sunshine Child in front of him. Guess he’ll just have to suffer and spend more time talking to her. The things he does for Gotham, he smirked to himself. “I’m Jason,” he said putting his hand out for her to shake.

She looked at his hand before hesitantly taking it. His hand absolutely engulfed hers. “Nice to meet you Jason,” she said looking toward the dancefloor. She had last seen the Waynes near the dancefloor and they couldn’t have gotten far, right? They were likely to be near it.

Misinterpreting her focus he asked, “Wanna dance?” placing down his now empty glass.

She needed a better vantage point to locate the Waynes and even if they weren’t on the dancefloor anymore, the dancefloor would be the ideal place get an unobstructed, overall view of the room. She could see the entire room from the dancefloor. She just had to scope it out discretely so Jason didn’t get suspicious. “Sure,” she said smiling at him and accepting the hand he had offered her.

He guided her out onto the dancefloor. Jason noticed a little girl standing nervously next to the dancefloor looking at a group of kids nearby. “Hold on just a second,” he said dropping her hand to kneel down next to the little girl. “Hey, I just wanted to say what a beautiful dress you have. I wish you had a smile to match. Anything wrong, kid?” he asked gently. The little girl gave him a nervous smile.

“Thanks. My Mom said I could pick out a dress and I chose this one. But Mom says it looks silly. It’s too fluffy and gets in everyone’s way.”

At that Marinette kneeled down next to her as well. “Oh. Well, let me fill you in on a little secret. I’m a fashion designer and I can tell you there is nothing wrong with fluffy. You did a great job picking it out. It is perfect for you. I couldn’t design anything better. I wish I looked as confident and effortlessly beautiful as you do. ”

The smile the little girl gave her was genuine this time. “You really like it?”

“I do,” Marinette responded.

“I do, too. I’m not a fashion designer, but I still think you look good, kid. And if anyone tells you they don’t like it, scr… I mean, forget them. Who cares what they think. A fashion designer and a delinquent think it looks amazing. Don’t let someone else tell you what you like.” Jason added. The little girl beamed at both of them and bounded off to join the kids with much more confidence.

Marinette watched him as he watched the kid play with her friends making raucous noise as they played, a grin on his face until he saw some parents come to reprimand their kids for being so noisy. So, rich boy has a heart and is really protective of kids. Well that wasn’t going to help Marinette focus solely on the mission. “That was incredibly nice of you. That’s not advice I would have expected from someone attending a party like this.” Marinette said taking Jason’s outstretched hand again.

“Just because we’re miserable here doesn’t mean she should be, too. Kids should be happy. It’s ridiculous to bring a kid to a party if you aren’t going to let them be a kid. Adults in Gotham expect too much of their kids. They treat them like props instead of kids, tools to help them achieve a goal.” He said voice getting gruff as he spoke. He looked back at her and shook his head as if to clear his head of his thoughts. He smiled at her instead and took her waist with his free hand to start dancing with her.

“You know, I noticed you never did give me your name.”

She looked into his eyes for a just a moment before she looked back to the dancefloor, “You know, I noticed that too.”

“Hmmm. Secretive. No name but a fashion designer from Paris,” he said. Marinette paled slightly refusing to look back at him. He was paying attention to her and noticing details. She hadn’t expected that from this crowd. She was going to have to be more careful about what she said. ‘Not get noticed’ played over and over in her head. She was supposed to slip in and out with nobody remembering her. She might have blown the mission already. But, was she ready to walk away from those blue eyes? Surely, talking with him couldn’t do any harm, right? “So, did you design the dress you’re wearing?”

She was brought back to reality with a jolt. “Yes. Not… not my best work, but it fit the uh, occasion,” she stuttered out.

“Was the occasion to look stunning? Because you do.” He grinned smugly as she blushed heavily under his praise. This was fun. This was his new mission for the night; to see how many times he could make her blush. “Still not going to tell me your name, huh?”

She looked back at him before dropping her eyes again. Stupid mission. If it were just her here for herself, she could stay here dancing with Jason and gazing into his eyes for the rest of the night, and tomorrow, and the day after for that matter. But she wasn’t here for herself. She was here for a reason and that reason demanded she be anonymous and keep track of the Waynes.

She scanned the floor again and finally spotted the Waynes, confirming they were all there. Nobody had snuck off. They really liked sticking around each other didn’t they?

“No, it takes more than a pretty line from a pretty boy to get my name” she said looking back to Jason and plastering on a fake smile. “I don’t need any rich boys remembering me after this is over. Tomorrow I’ll go back to my real life and it will be like none of this ever happened. I can report that I came, I danced, and I even smiled a few times, then never speak of it again.”

“Friends or family forced you to come because they thought you needed some excitement in your life, Pixie Pop?”

“Something like that… Pixie Pop?”

“You won’t tell me your name and I need to call you something. You’re little and mischievous and can handle yourself… Pixie Pop. Honestly, you’re lucky I didn’t go with Odysseus. Also, you think I’m pretty?” He grinned down at her.

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, cheeks flushing slightly. “I think that would have made you Polyphemus, which you certainly have the size for,” she grinned up at him. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here. How about you?”

“Oh, my family thinks I have enough fun already. I’m here because if they have to suffer, so do I. And all to bolster the name of the illustrious Bruce Wayne.”

Marinette examined his face as he stared toward where she last seen Bruce Wayne. He looked annoyed and frustrated. This was a side of Mr. Wayne she had not heard about in her research, a side that frustrated native Gothamites. A bit more information could be helpful for her to figure out what role he played in the Grimoire information Constantine was gathering, figure out whether or not he was a threat. “Not a fan?” she asked delicately.

He looked back at her examining her face for any malice. “Depends on the day.”

She hummed in response. “What can you tell me about Bruce Wayne?” she finally asked.

“Why do you want to know?” he responded suspiciously. Most people looking for more information wanted it as a weapon. Bruce might not be his favorite person, he might actually hate him right now, but he wasn’t going to help someone take him down unless it was him.

She shrugged, “everything I’ve seen shows an exemplary record for him. You don’t seem to be a fan though and you’ve grown up in Gotham so you would have some good insights. So, I’m wondering what your take on him is. What he’s done to draw your ire.”

Jason nodded slightly seeming to mull over what she said. “He does good things. He helps a lot of charities. He honestly does care about the city and the people and about making their lives better. His parenting skills could use some work though. He could show his sons that he actually cares about them as more than tools, you know, whether they live or died…” he furrowed his brows and looked away for a few seconds before he schooled his expression. His eyes got a wicked gleam to them and he leaned towards her to whisper conspiratorially “… and I hear he’s sleeping with Batman.”

Mari looks at him surprised. “Huh, I guess he has a type then, supermodels, superheroes…”

“Supervillains…” Jason says under her breath looking back at Bruce and his date.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he covered quickly, but the damage had already been done. She had started thinking about Bruce’s involvement with the super community. If he was sleeping with superheroes and super villains, that meant he was part of the same circles as Constantine… and Constantine liked dating in the super community. Could Bruce Wayne be in the super community? That would explain why he had information pertaining to the Grimoire. And she might need to revisit exactly how Constantine knew Bruce Wayne.

“Are you okay? I didn’t break you, did I?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, fine I could just maybe use some uh, water?” she gave an awkward smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please?” She just needed a bit of space to think.

Jason left to grab a glass of water and turned back to her. She watched Bruce with her head crooked to the side. He saw her finger discretely swiping to the right a few times as she stared intently at Bruce. After a few times her finger swiped left instead and head straightened. She looked around to the other members of the family as if she was counting, confirming something in her head.

Marinette’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized why Bruce Wayne could have information they needed and why Constantine needed her to keep an eye on the Waynes. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. She turned away quickly. This could not be happening. This. Could. Not. Be. Happening. She did NOT help him break into the BATCAVE while she kept tabs on BATMAN.

And if Constantine was trying desperately to avoid him, like he did all his exes…That little…

Jason had no idea what happened but as he got closer to his Pixie he could hear her muttering under her breath in French. His French was a bit rusty so even the pieces he could pick up were scarce and nonsensical. Something about maybe “lying” and “Roast Beef” and “bat” and “shark” and “fucking”. He couldn’t be positive about any of the words except two; “fucking” and “bat” those he was pretty familiar with. Not to brag but he could swear like a sailor in at least 7 languages. And “bat”, he knew that word in a few more languages for obvious reasons.

She was abruptly moving and ran right into him before she could take notice of her surroundings. She looked at Jason with wide eyes, reexamining the man she had spent the evening speaking and dancing with. Suddenly, everything clicking into place. There was one more hero she hadn’t accounted for, Red Hood, who while he hid his face behind a mask, just so happened to have the same towering build as Jason. But Bruce Wayne didn’t have any more kids, right? And if the other vigilantes were his sons, Red Hood should be too, right? He just had the three boys and the two girls who were out of town. That was it. He had another son, but that son had died. What was his name… She gasped loudly, “Oh God! You’re Jason,” she exclaimed out loud.

“Yeah?” He said confused. They’d been over this before.

“You’re Jason Todd,” she said looking down and taking slow breaths. “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son.”

He looked at her startled. She put that together quicker than he was expecting especially since she didn’t seem to know much about the family. “For what it’s worth, I don’t feel like his son most of the time,” he tried to joke. “Sorry for not telling you before. I don’t like talking about being in the family, or being in the family at all, actually.” He winced looking at her wide eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to get noticed by the Waynes. Shit!”

“Then you shouldn’t have worn that dress… or that face… or that smile, Pixie.” He said grinning suavely.

She examined him for a few seconds, emotions flittering across her face almost too quickly to identify them. Confusion, bashful, flattered, hopeful, guilt, pain, melancholy.

“I have to go.” She finally spoke up.

“Wait. What?”

“I… I have to go”

“Wait, is it… you have to go because I’m Wayne’s son?”

“No, I… shit. Putain de bâtard.” Yep, that one he understood too. Wait... “Me?” He asked pointing to himself.

“No, not you… Not because you’re a Wayne, well kind of because you’re a Wayne. It’s…” she faltered for a few seconds then muttered under her breath again “Je vais tuer cette putain de mère.”

“Wait, who is the mother fucker you’re talking about? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just going to kill a bitch when I get home.”

“Okay… Okay, first, that is a lot more swearing than I thought you were capable of and I’m extremely impressed… and turned on,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes at him and mumbled under her breath “you should have heard what was going on in my head”. He raised his eyebrows at her suggestion. “Okay, you’re making it really hard not to make out with you right now.” He watched proudly as her cheeks suddenly blazed red at his comment. Another point for him tonight.

“Second, if you’re just worried about Bruce finding out you were here, it never happened. I never saw you. You were never here,” he assured her. Instead of calming her she seemed more panicked, eyes darting from the door to him. This seemed like more than just not wanting to get noticed. She was into something and didn’t want to be. “Or, if you’re in trouble, I can help. You just need to tell me what is going on. You don’t seem like you would willingly work with someone out to hurt others, so whatever it is, I’m sure you aren’t willingly doing it. If it is something bad. I just really have no idea what is going on right now and I would like you to tell me.” He continued earnestly, looking her in her eyes to make sure she understood how deathly serious he was about it. If she needed help, he WOULD help her. Even if he didn’t like her, which he really did, he was going to help put that smile back on her face.

She looked at him for another few moments opening her mouth slightly to say something then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. She narrowed her eyes and looked away scanning the room as she thought about what to say and do next. She seemed to come to a conclusion as she turned back to him and set her feet firmly on the ground.

“I never told you why I was here, did I?” Even before he shook his head she continued. “I’m here to keep an eye on the Waynes. On you, apparently. Didn’t know you were back from the dead though, so I wasn’t looking out for you. Congratulations on that, by the way, you know, on the whole not being dead thing. That’s really amazing. I’m glad you can be around to enjoy life and laugh and be sarcastic and look at me with those eyes and look like that in a suit… probably even better out of it.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

“I’d love to see you out of that dress, too.” He smiled smugly at her.

She huffed out a breath, cheeks reddening again, “Yeah, not happening. I’m burning this dress as soon as I get out of here.”

“I can help you with that, too. I like setting fires. Two birds, one pyrotechnic.” He preened for a moment enjoying the flirting. Wait, less flirting, more focusing back on the more important part of her earlier speech.

“Wait, why are you keeping an eye on us?” he asked apprehensively.

“So I could warn my… associate if any of you left. So he could have plenty of time to… what is the best way to say this…” she looked up to the ceiling and took a deep steadying breath thinking about the words she wanted to use. None of this was part of the plan. “…so he could have plenty of time to evacuate your… lair? No, lair makes you sound like villains… your illicit… cavern of, actually I don’t know if it is a cavern… and it isn’t really illicit, is it? Well, actually I guess it kind of is, but that still makes it sound like you’re a villain…your underground… no, I don’t even know if it is underground… to evacuate your… uh… secret… base of… um, operations?”

“My what?” Jason demanded now more than a little concerned. “Who are you?”

“Nobody. Absolutely nobody of consequence. And nobody who should be here right now.” She turned to walk away before Jason stopped her.

“No. You don’t get to say something like that then try to slink away like nothing happened. Come on, we’re going to go talk to some people,” he said grabbing her arm a bit harder than strictly necessary and dragging her towards his brothers and Bruce. She definitely figured out who they all were or at least who Bruce was and that they knew too, which put her in danger, and she was working with someone to break into the Batcave, which put them all in danger. Everything about this situation was dangerous and bad and they needed to talk to the family to figure out the best next steps.

Marinette dug her heels into the ground pulling against him, a really bad idea considering how high her heels were. Instead of stopping him she stumbled into his chest allowing him the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said squirming to get out of his embrace. “This is between you guys. I have neither the desire nor the interest to get involved in this little lover’s spat. I have more important things to be doing right now. Things that asshole was supposed to be doing instead of pulling practical jokes.”

“Jokes? What do you mean jokes? What the fuck is going on?” He looked at her again. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t gloating, she wasn’t even nervous. She was annoyed verging on enraged.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Red.” She threw in the moniker at him to get him to back down. She knew how important secret identities were, and how finding out someone knew yours could throw you off your game. She felt a bit of guilt as she used that knowledge against him but this was no longer fun. Now this was infuriating. John was playing games with his former lover, or current lover, whatever Bruce was to him, instead of just helping. He was taking time she didn’t want to spend, time the people of Paris should not have to wait. They had spent weeks planning this when he could have just walked in and asked for the information. They had wasted so much time.

“I. Do. Not. Have. Time. For. This. This is not a joke. This is not some gag for you overgrown children to play at,” she said hitting her finger into his chest with each word. “I have people in need relying on me. I have children counting on me. Parents counting on me. Single people, who also deserve to live just as much as everyone else, counting on me and all suffering while they wait. I. Am. Done. And I am leaving”

Jason listened to her shocked. Something was happening and he had absolutely no idea what, but somehow they were involved. He hated not knowing what was going on. Apparently children were suffering because of all of this and he didn’t know why. But, he was going to figure it out. She was right. They did not have time for this. Whatever was going on, they were going to help. He turned away loosening his grip on her waist to just laying his arm on her instead of encircling her. He touched his hand to his ear to activate the com hidden inside, “Tim, can you check the security video for the uh… our base of operations?”

It appeared that Tim was giving Jason some resistance because Jason turned away even further and started yell whispering threats into the air. He was trying to be as discrete as possible in the crowded room, which normally wouldn’t be such a concern but there was a group of dancers headed their way, just leaving the dance floor after the song ended. Marinette took advantage of his distraction and the sudden cover to twist away from him and slip into the crowd.

Jason called after her and tried to grasp her arm but missed her. He searched for her but the crowd was too thick, having had to bottleneck to get past the tables surrounding the dance floor. He scanned the crowd for her twisted hair or the black dress, but couldn’t see her in the group. She had effectively disappeared, but if she went into the crowd, she would have to come out and cross the dancefloor in order to leave. He could just wait for her on the other side of the group and keep an eye on the dancefloor. He moved to go around the table, but that side was just as crowded so he did the only rational, discrete thing he could in the situation, he slid across the top of the table landing on the dancefloor and waited to grab her there, but she never came out.

_____________________________________________________________

Marinette had a habit of catastrophizing. She knew this. Everyone who knew her knew this. She thought of all of the worst case scenarios and tried to plan for them. Generally, it was a wasted effort that did little more than stress her out and annoy her teammates. Today, however, today it paid off. She had anticipated having to make a quick escape and once she decided it was time to go, she put her escape plan into action. Freeing herself from Jason, she pulled off her belt before even getting to the crowd. As she entered the crowd of people, she pulled out her hair pin, letting her hair fall down. She didn’t even have to hunch down much at all to disappear into the crowd as she weaved her way through them. One advantage to being short. She ran her left hand through her hair tousling it so her long raven hair cascaded around her shoulders. With her right hand, she yanked at the cowl neckline of her dress, allowing the fabric overlay to drop forming a floor length skirt, revealing the bodice of her now red Harlow inspired dress that had been hidden underneath. Her new dress hugged her body until it reached her hips then fell freely.

Finally, she reached into her red purse, removed her phone, the cookie for Tikki, and Kaalki’s glasses, nodded to Tikki, turned her purse inside out revealing a now black purse with red detailing, and returned her phone, glasses, cookie, hairpin, and belt into it, leaving plenty of room for Tikki. The entire change took all of 10 seconds. By the time she would walk out of the crowd, she would be completely unrecognizable, at least by anyone who didn’t already know her. Unless that is, if they were looking for someone moving against the tide of people. That would be a dead giveaway. So instead, she pivoted and moved with the crowd instead of against it, parting with them after a few tables and moving laterally toward the exit.

Marinette made her way to the exit quickly, but not quickly enough to draw attention to herself. She needed to get to Constantine before the “bat family”, as her research had called them, got to him. They had reasons for keeping other superheroes out of Paris and she had no interest in having that particular awkward and slightly guilt laden (stupid gorgeous blue eyes she wanted to get lost in) conversation with them. Especially when she was this utterly livid with Constantine, which was another reason she was rushing. She needed to get to him so she could beat the asshole out of him. Oh, she was going to make him pay for this, and not in a way he would enjoy.

She was angry and frustrated and guilty and grieved. She knew Jason didn’t deserve for her to snap at him like she had but she had been too frustrated to hold back and he was part of the problem. She had been having fun with Jason. She had been enjoying bantering with him and looking into his eyes. She had really, really been enjoying having him look at her like she was the most interesting thing in Gotham and having him hold her closer than he had to while they danced. And now it was gone. She was a hero and he was a vigilante so he had to be kept at a distance. A 3,670 mile distance to be precise, well approximate.

She was just about to cross through the exit when a voice stopped her.

“Hey,” a woman with short black hair and green eyes called out to her. Marinette slowed down weighing the risk of just blowing her off vs the risk of stopping. She decided ignoring her might lead to the woman calling after her, which would bring unwanted attention, which she wanted to avoid. Stopping seemed the safer answer. As long as she didn’t look back at the gala or do anything else that might incriminate herself, she would be able to get away without any awkward conversations or fights.

“Yes” she answered with a strained smile.

“I saw that little quick change back there,” the woman responded. Marinette’s eyes widened in panic. Before anxiety could start going over all the worst case scenarios her mind could come up with, she was already in the midst of one of them in real life she really didn’t need to start thinking of worse things to add to it, the woman continued, nonchalantly scanning the people at the gala, “don’t worry, I’m not going to out you. I just might have occasion to use a quick change myself from time to time, so I was hoping you might share where you got your dress.” She shot Marinette a wicked smile. ”Just because you’re hustling doesn’t mean you can’t look killer doing it.”

Marinette relaxed minutely and gave her a small smile, “it’s called MDC Designs. She’s online. What’s your name so she’ll know who to look out for?”

“Thanks kitten. I appreciate it.” She said never looking back at Marinette. “Selina. Selina Kyle. I’d say nice to meet you, but we never met, did we?”

Marinette smiled to herself as she walked out the door. Maybe the night wasn’t a total loss. Hopefully, Constantine got the information they needed, she’ll get to punch his smug face as soon as she sees him, and she’ll get a new client. Guess Adrien was right about showcasing her design after all. He must never know. Not such a bad night at all.

Chapter 2

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