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waldau · 3 months

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hello!! big fan here! i think you’re super talented and cool 🫶🏼 can i perhaps request a friends to lovers thing for vernon? do you think he’d be the first one to break and confess or would it be you? if it’s the latter, how does he react? any thoughts on this would be fine really, even if you don’t want to make it into a full fledged story. just love talking about and thinking about vernon.

darling anon i think you broke my brain because i've never written so much in a single day (also thank you so much!!! <3). i love vernon and i've kind of been in a vernon spiral myself recently. i hope you like this :)

chroma — chwe hansol | 2,520 words | fluff

chroma (noun) — the purity of a colour, or its freedom from white or grey. reader and vernon are best friends who SCREAM become lovers. briefly ft dokyeom.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

at first glance, you and vernon are opposites.

not exactly grumpy and sunshine opposites, but if you're both the same colour, you're a shade or two brighter than him. which means that you're similar with different energy levels, and honestly? you love your dynamic.

your friends notice that outside of the group, you're the one he's the closest to — so it only makes sense that he's also the one you're the closest to.

he's always near you whenever you're hanging out with your friends — whether you're sitting right next to each other or across the room, he meets your eyes from time to time, if only to check in on you, or to allude to an inside joke when someone speaks.

(you have way too many inside jokes; an unhealthy amount, even.)

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely. or you crash at each other's places for the night if you're too tired.

you always look forward to whenever he gets random bursts of energy and proceeds to tell you about stuff he finds interesting. but you also use him as a pillow when he becomes extremely quiet, and honestly? it's pretty easy to co-exist with vernon regardless of the silence or the lack of it, because you always match his energy.

he sends you pictures of whatever he thinks you'll like, whether it's a meme or a sunset, but sometimes he sends you stuff he likes — like a cool monument he saw in new york or his cat or a picture of two snails on the side of the road with the caption "us?"

seriously, opening his texts is like a wild card (in a good way).

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely.

you're slightly more affectionate than him, which is something he doesn't mind.

he's not the first to initiate hugs, but you can trust that he's always going to find your hand for a high five or a fist bump or a quick side hug.

if you're sitting together on the couch listening to music or watching something on the television, he lets you loop your arm through his like it's something you do every day (which it most definitely is).

vernon wasn't very physical in the beginning of your friendship, but now you're used to a light brush of his hand against yours, your shoulders bumping for a second or two, a poke to your cheek — just your things.

now the thing is this: you have a crush on vernon. a huge crush that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.

"i knew it!" dokyeom says shrilly, and you wince. you love him, but you're not sure if he's capable of keeping your secret.

"was it that obvious?"

"of course it was! i've seen the way you look at him. like he's the funniest guy in the room, even if he's not. or like he's the hottest guy in the room. which he—"

"—is," you finish, and bite your tongue. dokyeom doesn't need to know exactly how in deep you are.

dokyeom shakes his head. "i can't believe he doesn't know."

"kyeom, if you tell him, i swear—"

"i won't! i kind of want to see how long it takes for him to realize."

"i don't think he will," you say, looking over to where vernon is sitting on the couch and arguing with seungkwan and seungcheol about the best movie from 2008.

"how do you know that?"

you shrug. "i've tried dropping subtle hints. he's just...oblivious."

dokyeom follows your gaze and sighs. "he really is. but if you ask me," he says, turning to raise an eyebrow. "this really could go somewhere."

every year, you spend valentine's day together.

it started as a joke the first time — vernon's date somehow cancelled on him at the last moment, and he showed up to your place with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

you thought your heart was going to fall out of your body, but he sheepishly explained he didn't know where else to go, or who else to give them to.

it turned into a rant about how he didn't believe in or care about the holiday anymore.

but now it's your tradition to enjoy each other's company rolling your eyes and booing at cheesy movies.

(you wish they'd come to life, specifically with vernon, but he doesn't have to know.)

he isn't the best at comforting you with words. you learned that a long time ago and know it well even now. yet he's the first person you turn to when something's wrong.

you're wrapped in a blanket on vernon's sofa, a hot mug of cocoa in front of you next to a bowl of snacks, but your mind isn't on any of them. why, you think. why, why, why me. you feel terrible for the space you're occupying, even though you've curled up into a ball.

"hey," vernon says from above you, and the next thing you know, you're pulled into him. "i don't know what to say to make it better, and...i don't know what else i can do, but tell me, okay?"

you nod.

"i'm sorry."

you stop crying at that, trying to blink away your tears but failing. "why?"

"he was a dick, and you never deserved someone so shitty."

you try to inhale, but it's shaky. "i'm just...so tired," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't know why i keep attracting idiots like him. and i hate that you always have to see me like this."

"like this?"

"in pieces. crying. whatever."

"you're not in pieces," vernon says, running his hand over your back. "you're sad. it happens. and i don't mind being here, okay? i'm always here. sorry."

you snort. "you've apologized more to me than he's ever done at this point."

"now you know who to keep around longer," vernon smiles.

you wonder if vernon's aware of the things he does. he talks to you like there's no one else he'd rather be with at the moment. he bends down to meet your eyes when you're talking about something, and you're amazed he hasn't noticed you short-circuiting in the middle of your sentences more than a few times now. he finds the most random things to give you every now and then.

"huh?"

"pebble. reminded me of pou."

"pou? vernon, that was so long ago!"

"do you want me to skip this rock?"

"no, wait—"

fights with him aren't really fights, because one of you always caves in and has to make up.

"your neck's going to hurt," you hear vernon say softly, probably trying not to wake you up. but you weren't really asleep in the first place.

"why do you care?" you grumble, sitting up straight and wincing when your neck does, in fact, hurt.

"i don't hate you just because we had a fight," he says, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "sore necks suck."

you chew on your cheek for a while, not wanting to say the words you know are inevitable. "fighting with you sucks, too."

he says nothing; just hugs you tighter.

you're surprised at how well you've adapted to vernon going out on dates.

it wasn't easy, you'll admit. at first it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest while also being crushed, but now it's okay (maybe because he hasn't been dating as much recently — you can't remember the last one he even went on).

you're nothing if not a supportive best friend, so you're okay with the few times his dates go well enough to tell you about.

you teasingly tell him not to give you too many details, but you wonder if he knows why you really ask that of him.

both of you act like a married couple, according to your friends. it made you blush at first, but there's no point reacting to it anymore because it's just not true. vernon doesn't like you the way you like him, and the way you're affectionate with each other is...hard to explain. just friends, you say, even though you wish you were more.

"you're dishgushting," dokyeom says, mouth stuffed full of pizza while he pours himself some coke.

you give him a look. "you or me?"

dokyeom nods, chewing aggressively before swallowing his bite. "you. and vernon. can't stop giving each other those eyes all the time. makes me sick."

"...eyes?"

"like you need a room or something. like there's no one else in here with you guys."

"we don't do that, kyeom."

he snorts inelegantly. "ask anyone. you're lucky jeonghan hasn't snitched on you yet."

and maybe, just maybe, vernon treats you somewhat differently than he treats his friends.

you always get the first bite of his food, always listen to new vinyls he gets on the weekends, sprawled out on the floor and letting the music seep into your skin, always get to steal his hoodies whenever you're cold — you can't think of any other friend of his who gets the same treatment.

but that's just best friend privilege.

at least that's what you tell yourself.

after vernon comes back from his latest tour, he becomes more touchy with you — resting a hand on your thigh, tracing the shell of your ear, linking pinkies with you.

maybe it's just his way of reconnecting with you after being away for so long.

but doesn't he realize what he's doing to your heart?

probably not, you think, when he wraps his arms around your waist one morning when you're in front of his vinyl collection, trying to pick something you think you'll like.

"sol?" you ask, patting his hands before resuming browsing through his shelf.

"hey."

"what's up?"

"tired."

"shouldn't you be in bed, then?"

"you weren't there."

you pause, the magdalene vinyl in your hand threatening to fall before you place it back. "i'm never there."

"wanna change that?"

"what?"

"what."

you think it's some silly pick-up line he's trying to test on you, so you gently push him back to his bedroom, threatening to leave his home if he doesn't sleep for a few more hours.

but it doesn't end there.

those pick-up lines pop up in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected company. you shake your head and laugh them off, but you wonder why he's behaving like this.

there's one possible explanation for it, but you're not going to let yourself walk down that path. not unless he does it first.

vernon's quiet on the walk back to your car from the supermarket, half your groceries with you and the other half with him. he doesn't say anything when you point out his shoelace is untied, or his hair is sticking up a bit weirdly for his liking, or even the fact that there's a cat sitting right next to your car before it skitters away a few seconds later.

you're not worried. vernon does have those moments where he zones out so hard no one can get him back for a while, and this seems to be one of them.

"i love you," he finally says.

your hand fumbles with the grip of your bag. not cool, not when there's a couple of glass jars in there. there's going to be nothing cute to put the cookies in if you break them now.

"i love you too?" you offer, because it's not uncommon for you to say it to each other. it's just that vernon's never brought it up unprompted before.

"no. not how you think."

not how you think? how...

oh.

you can only stare at vernon, mind running a million miles an hour while he refuses to look at you, suddenly finding interest in that untied shoelace.

"love me love me?"

he nods, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it. it gives you a sudden boost of courage, of happiness, of everything good. you weren't wrong, after all. you put the rest of the groceries in the trunk and turn to face him.

you've seen this sight hundreds of times before — vernon with his messy hair, in this very hoodie with jam stains on the left sleeve, and those brown eyes that light up from the inside when the sun hits them just the right way and make him look like the most handsome man in the world — but it's like you've been seeing the world, even vernon, in monochrome till he said those words.

chroma.

"oi," you say, grabbing his face in your hands. "sol."

he just blinks.

"are you sure? absolutely sure?"

"yeah," he says, voice a bit rougher than usual, and you see yourself in his eyes for a moment. "i am. but i'm sor—"

you shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, uncaring of who might be seeing you right now. you know you're going to be embarrassed about it, squeal about it to dokyeom, bury your face in your pillow and question if any of it was real, but right now, it doesn't matter.

you've shocked vernon, for once. it feels good. he's staring at you with his mouth open, hands clutching your wrists like there's no tomorrow.

"you're not the only one," you explain, all bravado fizzling out when his full focus lands only on you.

"oh? yeah?" he asks, pulling you closer.

"mm."

he rubs his thumb across one of your wrists. "do you have eggs?"

"...what?" back to regularly scheduled programming, then. trust vernon not to make it weird.

"eggs. or ice cream. anything that needs the fridge. because i want to take you out on a date right now."

some things change: vernon becomes your boyfriend. you move in together a few months later. it's not the first time you've met his mother, but you're still nervous.

but the best thing of all is that he's yours now.

he even tells you how he realized he loved you back.

"i just...remembered you arguing with me about whether penne or fusilli was better, and my only thought was, i want this with you. for however long i could have it. i think i just loved you for so long, but...i didn't realize it was that love. i finally understood why kyeom-hyung kept telling me to get my shit together."

"sol—"

"no one knows me like you do and i don't want anyone else to. yeah."

"sol, babe, i was just asking if you want me to take out the trash."

"you...oh," he says, grinning in that shy way he does. "thought you asked me if i wanted you. but hey, if i'm trash for you, you're legally obligated to take me out, right?"

i've never put pictures before but he's SO boyfriend material, look at him

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

#yo i didn't ramble i just threw up a large volume of words i REALLY hope you like this #like WHAT is this. even i'm shocked #BUT i love writing 'oh' moments. peak writing idc idc #also there are two wolves inside you: WOULD he fucking say that and he would NOT fucking say that #guess i just love him too much :)#chwe hansol #chwe hansol fluff #vernon #vernon fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

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isaacswhy · 1 month

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home

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) 1.6k summary: moving to the new house was rough, and you had to stay in a hotel for a few days while the boys moved. once you were settled in, you realized just how much you loved it. requested?: no

It brought you no joy to spend another night in the hotel. Of course, you were thankful that Isaac had paid for your nights staying there, but it was frustrating. You weren't able to sleep at home, with your boyfriend, like you usually were. But, you understood that he was just trying to keep you from going insane from how the other guys acted while they moved. It wasn't his first rodeo doing it.

No matter what, though, you still had to swipe your key card and drop your bag in the hotel as you always had. Isaac spent the first night with you, but had to stay the rest of the nights at the new house while they were moving in. The two of you learned the hard way that when Isaac wasn't around while the grown-up toddlers were moving their belongings, they'd be on the verge of burning the place down all the time.

At the very least, you got to call him. You took your shoes off, doing a quick switch into some pajama pants and walked over to your bed. That was the good part of the hotel, the phenomenal bedding. Isaac really shelled out for your comfort. You fished your phone from your pocket and opened Isaac's contact, pressing the little "FaceTime" button.

The line rang for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust how you looked in the camera before he picked up. Your image shrank into the corner as his face came into full view, beaming and bright. You couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw his big, toothy grin.

"Hi baby!" Isaac half-shouted as you watched him fall back on his bed, his curls spreading onto the blanket.

You waved to the camera. "Hi Isaac! How was the day today? Any good news for me?"

"Today was good!" Isaac sat up and looked down at the camera, "I should be able to have us fully settled by tomorrow. Hopefully, you can spend the night then."

You grinned a little bit at the prospect. You'd missed his strong arms wrapped around you. "That's great! I'll keep my phone on me and probably go out for a little shopping trip in the new city, so just give me a call whenever you think the place is ready."

"Sounds like a plan," He said, "I've been setting up our room, actually. Do you want to see now?"

"No, no, leave it a surprise for tomorrow night." With the house being a little bigger than the last one, somehow, the two of you were sharing a room and Isaac's setup would be in an office room connected to it. Although, you shared a room in the last house, but it was essentially just moving into Isaac's space and tossing your own clothes in his closet.

Things wrapped up easily that night, the two of you talking for a little too long until Isaac had to cut off the call. It was getting late, and he needed the energy for tomorrow. When you finally hung up, you tucked into bed, only Isaac filling your thoughts as you drifted off.

You awoke to the sunlight peering through the curtains the next morning. Grabbing your phone, you saw no news from Isaac and got up for the day.

It was pretty uneventful, other than picking up a few new pieces of clothes and a pair of shoes for Isaac. He was a bit of a nut about his shoe game, and you recognized the pair as one he'd been keeping his eye out for online. Luckily, they had a pair in his size. Shoe shopping for a man so tall was a nightmare sometimes.

You were just getting out of the line with your new items when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Grabbing it showed Isaac's contact and a phone call, so you picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey! I was just letting you know it should be good to come down whenever," Isaac sounded a little out of breath, "Just finished unpacking the last of our stuff. Had to carry Tanner's desk into his room so he could set up his computer. Anyways, if you want to pack up your stuff in the hotel and come down, I'm ready for you!"

A big grin spread across your face. "That's amazing! I'll be headed down soon. Just finishing up a trip to the mall, but I'm gonna head to the hotel right away. I'll pack up my shit and get down to you in a minute, okay?"

"Okay! I love you!"

Your heart warmed a little bit. "I love you too, Isaac, bye."

You were practically sprinting back to the hotel. Once you got inside, you were glad not to have unpacked everything yet. The rest of your clothes and other personal belongings you had with you were packed up quickly into your bags. The car Isaac had rented for you waited for you in the parking garage, where you tossed your things in there. From there, you hit the road.

The drive wasn't too long, but they'd chosen a location far enough from downtown to give themselves privacy. You didn't mind the drive, though, since it was just building excitement to see your boyfriend for the first time in a few days.

You finally pulled into the driveway and walked up to the front door, using your key to get inside. The place was beautiful. Clean, more modern look but with a touch of the luxury that came with a house of this size and price. Of course, in a few weeks, it'd look more like a bomb went off in here. But for the time being, it looked great.

Nick poked his head out from the kitchen and waved at you. "Hey! You finally made it!"

You nodded and waved back, smiling. "Yeah! Isaac thought it'd be best if I wasn't in your guys' path of destruction while you all got moved in. Since I hadn't brought a lot to the last house, anyways, I'm just the last piece of the puzzle."

"That.. makes sense, actually," Nick laughed to himself, "Well, welcome home! ISAAC! GET DOWN HERE!"

You flinched a bit at Nick's sudden yelling, but you heard thundering footsteps as suddenly, your boyfriend ran down the stairs and towards you. You practically leapt into his arms, feeling him pick you up and spin you around.

"You're home!" Isaac was practically squealing into your shirt as he finally put you down, "Do you like it?"

When you saw him like this, he really looked like an oversized puppy. "I love it! The place looks so nice! For now.."

"I'll do my best to make sure they don't rip it to shreds like the last house.." Isaac nervously chuckled, "Come on! Let me show you the room!"

You took Isaac's oversized hand as you followed him up the stairs, leading you through a hallway or two before he opened a door. He led you inside, and you were met with beauty. It was simple, clean, and everything you liked. There was so much personality, the shelves and tables lined with little trinkets, figures, and other pieces of things that you both liked.

You walked over to one of the shelves, smirking. "Did you get me a Jujutsu Kaisen figure?"

"Only because I thought you were really into it," He said with a shy smile, "Did I get it right?"

You nodded and smiled. It was your favorite character from the show, after all. He'd been a good listener after forcing you to watch it with him. "You did, don't worry. This room is amazing, should we go get my bags?"

Isaac lit up a bit. "Oh, right! I'll go get them, maybe get Nick to grab one. You don't worry about any of that, stay here and get yourself acquainted! Look around!"

Before you could protest, he was out of the room and you heard his footsteps down the hallway. You decided to do as he suggested, looking through everything he had set up in your room. You tested out the bed, which was as soft and comforting as you'd loved.

You walked into the office room connected to the bedroom, smiling at his setup and looking over to see a second setup. Before you'd moved, you had another setup that decided to short out during the hot summer heat. When you needed to play something, you often just used Isaac's or bullied Nick when Isaac was busy.

But, there was a second setup, next to Isaac's. It was your favorite color, with some figures and little items from your favorite shows decorating the desk, and a beautiful keyboard and mouse. You approached it, running your hand over the keys and pressing a few. The sound was off the charts.

"You like it?"

You turned around and saw Isaac standing at the door, with a grin on his face. "It's perfect. Was this the real reason you didn't want me here when you were moving in? So you could build all of this?"

Isaac shrugged his shoulders. "Maaaybe."

You sighed and shook your head. "You didn't have to do all this for me," You said with a sigh, but you walked up to him and smiled, "Thank you."

"Of course I have to, I'm your boyfriend," Isaac's voice made you weak in the knees a little bit. When he spoke so softly as he pulled you into a tight hug, his voice warmed your body like nothing else could.

With Isaac's arms wrapped around you like they were, you were able to take in his scent and sit there in the peace in quiet. It felt like pure comfort to you. It felt like home.

#isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #the group chat #the group #the group x reader #tgc #tgc x reader #yumi #softwilly #bigt #larry croft #grunk

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l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

Heyyyy 🤭I really love your young! reader stuff they're what i actually need! Can i ask for a one with the 141 boys but instead of the reader being someone they work with she's a rescued hostage who had to be with them for a good while 🤭🤎🤎?

✎ first of all omg thank youuuu ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ second of all yes i love this idea !!

✎ tags: young reader, non-military reader, gender neutral reader i'm pretty sure, some violence and trauma, smoking, mostly fluff, not proofread im too cool for that as usual

♡ kyle finds you huddled in a corner curled into a tight ball during a firefight. he's frantic and a bit rough with you (to be fair, there are bullets flying pretty much everywhere) as he practically drags you with him to the team's rendezvous spot. except, once you both get there, he kind of realizes he doesn't know what to do with you, and you don't either.

♡ price is about to start yelling at kyle when he takes one look at you, terrified and practically clutching onto your rescuer, and backs down. he mumbles that they'll take you back with them and see that you're taken care of. simon and john don't say anything, just sharing a look between each other, both wondering how this would go.

♡ the safehouse is cramped, a small cabin tucked between cliffs in a dense forest. one rough path led for miles before it came to a better road. simply put, you were all going to be stranded there for a few weeks before they could get a pinpoint on your location and to retrieve the team. so, you all got to know each other.

♡ it takes you a fitful night's sleep (still close to kyle) and a quickly eaten can of condensed soup to start talking again. price coaxes your name out of you, and he smiles when you tell him quietly. despite his initial reaction everyone can see how quickly he warms up to you. ghost takes a little longer than price and john, but joins in on your card games with the other three soon enough (he waits until you've actually learned how to play the games to spare his patience).

♡ you tell them about who you were and they learn who you are over the worn card deck and more canned food. it takes you a little longer to talk about your hometown before it crumbled beneath lead, and longer still to talk about your family. they don't push you for it, and kyle sits with you and holds your hand when he finds you outside crying. price warns the younger man to not let you both get too close to each other, but it's hard to social distance in the tiny safehouse.

♡ it takes a couple weeks but you surprise them when you stop getting anxious when kyle leaves your side, and you stop looking out the window every few minutes when he leaves the cabin. price and john are hopeful while simon stays skeptical that the separation once you all get back to the base will be easy (on any of you, really).

♡ laswell manages to send out a helicopter to land in a clearing in the forest not far from the safehouse after three and a half weeks. your grip on kyle's hand is white-knuckled the entire time you're in the air. when you're all on solid ground again, the other three men walk ahead of you while kyle urges you further onto the airfield of the base.

♡ price and simon go off on their own while john joins kyle and you in heading towards the doctors on base. they explain everything you pass as you pass it, what's behind that door and who those people are and what's down that hallway. you keep a hold on kyle's hand the entire time.

♡ you finally separate from him when you're sitting on one of the beds in the doctor's office, a nice woman about a decade older than you talking to kyle and john in the hallway while you look around anxiously. after spending nearly four weeks surrounded by the 141 task force, you feel exposed and unprotected now, ironically.

♡ kyle comes back into the room by himself first to tell you how the doctor was going to talk to you and look over you for a little while until they can find you a new home. the hug you give each other is tight on both ends, and it takes a few moments for either of you to let go. john comes in to give you a short pep talk and ruffles your hair. he tells you you're stronger than half of the people here and gives you a pat on the back that lurches you forward slightly before the two men leave.

♡ the doctor can see pretty easily that you've become attached to kyle (and the other three, but more so the youngest). so before anything else, she works with you for hours over cups of tea and coffee and vending machine snacks to both establish what she's working with and to help convince you that you were safe here and safe without them by your side.

♡ it takes a couple of weeks for you to stop looking over your shoulder everywhere you went. people were nice to you when they weren't avoiding you; they treated you almost like a new animal, unsure of how you would react to anything (price had had a "word" with the recruits, basically saying if they did anything to you, it wouldn't be pretty for them). you still managed to make some new friends of some of the recruits. it spreads through base pretty quickly that people like you, and having the favor of the 141 task force certainly helps.

♡ it's still a huge adjustment for you to be without kyle and the other three men. you don't sleep for three days before they finally have to sedate you to make the dark circles under your eyes back off. you're jumpy and avoidant for a while, unsettled by the long hallways and the marching of boots everywhere you went. when you stray too close to where the recruits trained and hear barrages of gunfire going off, they find you hours later huddled in a closet behind a makeshift wall of cleaning supplies.

♡ the doctor works with you through all of it, and surprisingly still, you make good progress rather quickly. they thought it would take months for you to return yourself to a sense of normalcy, but within a few weeks you know the base layout and walk more confidently through it.

♡ the 141 men visit you when they can. kyle most of all, he finds whatever time he can to hang around you. he worries that his presence might not help you, but after a few weeks you're no longer reaching for him to cling to him whenever he's around. instead, you make him little gifts of cards out of printer paper or wood carvings that look a little wobbly but are still cute nonetheless.

♡ john and price still come around to play card games with you every few nights, and sometimes simon joins them. you don't see much of the ghost, but when he's around he sits next to you and helps you under the table to beat price.

♡ simon catches you alone trying to get a bag of chips unstuck from a vending machine in the middle of the night and helps you get it out (he nearly tips the whole thing over shaking it). he doesn't say much to you, but the hand lingering on your shoulder says enough, and you give him a hug and a quiet "thank you" for more than just the chips before being on your way.

♡ you stay on the base for a few more months. somehow john starts teaching you the basics of how to fight and defend yourself after everyone else has gone back inside for the evening. he says you're like a baby deer trying to learn how to walk with three legs at first, but you eventually start to be able to throw decent punches and keep your footing steady.

♡ at some point, you start venturing into the world off-base (chaperoned, of course). usually it's someone you don't really know very well going with you, but a few times kyle or john come with you. kyle goes with you shopping, being pulled along through the isles of shirts and pants and all kinds of accessories that your hometown's few stores never carried. he humors you when you take hours finding and trying on all types of outfits, and he puts up with your whining when he drags you out.

♡ john tries to take you to a bar to "socialize", as he deems it, but when he sees how anxious you are and how the loud bass of the constant music makes you jump every few seconds, he takes you on a walk along a quiet river. you both sit on a bridge for awhile, watching boats go past in the bay ahead of you and just talking about whatever crosses your mind. you tell him eventually that the doctors think you should be able to leave the base within the next few weeks.

♡ price keeps up your "training" with you. he teaches you plenty of different ways to take people down, which you figure you'll probably never have to actually use, but you like the time spent together. he gives you unsolicited fatherly advice a lot, and besides self-defense, he teaches you a lot of other practical things. you find yourself able to semi-reliably diagnose car problems and knowing the basics of how and when and where to go fishing.

♡ simon and you spend the least amount of time together out of the four men, but when you do, it's nice and peaceful. you find him outside smoking sometimes and stand beside him. once, he offers you a cigarette and you try it, only for him to laugh and take it from you when you cough up a lung. he finds you smuggling candy bars and other contraband to recruits and helps you figure out good places to hide your stashes.

♡ a few days before you're sent to your new apartment outside of the base, the team decides to throw a "little" party for you. kyle finds you in your room and tells you to follow him but refuses to answer your questions of why and where you're going. once you're closer to their common area, he makes you close your eyes and steers you forward.

♡ you hear scrambled movements and hushed whispers and when you open your eyes, everyone yells "surprise!" and starts coming up to hug you and congratulate you on your progress. there's colorful balloons and cheap party hats and streamers peppering the area, store-bought cookies and snacks and a cake in your favorite flavor with the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" written on it in icing all sitting on a table, along with plenty of alcohol. there's even a banner hung up on the wall above the way into the little kitchen (it's a "happy birthday" banner, john says it's all they had left at the store, it still makes you smile).

♡ the four 141 men are there, laswell, and some of your closer friends you made with the recruits, and a couple of nurses you had also befriended. the recruits and nurses get you gifts, a couple of plants, some cookware, mostly housewarming presents to take with you. laswell hands you a small well-wrapped box and card (she tells you her wife wrapped it for her), and when you open it, there's cash and a beautiful pocket knife for you to keep.

♡ after a few hours, people start filing out, bidding you goodbye and their best wishes. once it's you and the 141 men left, all slightly buzzed sitting around more cards, they pull out their gifts to you. price gifts you a box of expensive cigars (he says that if you don't smoke them you can still show them off), john gives you a poster of a movie you both had watched together and loved. simon gives you a hand-carved wooden figure of an animal you had once told him you'd had as a kid. kyle gives you a pin that you had pointed out at a store once, saying it looked just like the one your mother had always worn for formal occasions. you're already basically in tears when they hand you a list of their contact info for when you leave, then you're fully crying.

♡ the day you leave, they all escort you to the car that will take you there. they insist on carrying all your luggage to the car, not that there's much of it. you cry again, hugging them all tight. you'd said your goodbyes to them individually already, but now you were really leaving. john is clearly holding back tears and price keeps clearing his throat as if it were tightening with his own emotions. simon doesn't cry, but he hugs you extra tight. kyle hugs you last, telling you to not get into anymore trouble, to call them if you ever need anything, so on and so forth. he's the last to leave the sidewalk while they all watch the car drive away.

♡ as it turns out, the apartment they placed you in (a small one bed, one bath, but still nicer than your house before all this) is a reasonable drive from where price lives. he makes time for you whenever he can, and kyle often tags along. all four men and you meet up every couple of weeks for a daytrip in the area. somehow, you even end up bringing the four men closer to each other, too.

♡ they help you move new furniture in (with lots of cursing, but still happy to help you) and "oo" and "aa" over all the new decorations and pieces you get for around the place. they visit you at your new job after you get settled into it. you even stay friends with some of the recruits from the base, sending letters and visiting every couple of months when they're allowed.

♡ the new change is huge, but with their help, you become a full member of society once again. the team watches out for you, as always. they come to see you as part of the team itself, even if you aren't actually part of the military.

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w1ldthoughts · 5 months

Text

(Not so) Happy Birthday Part II

A/n: thank you all so much for your patience I hope this was worth the wait!

Part I

“Are you serious?” You heard a groaning voice behind you, belonging to your friend Jade who you’d been staying with. “How many times are you going to watch A Star Is Born? It’s getting concerning.”

You let out a small laugh, digging into what was your second popcorn bowl of the day. “I’m going to keep watching it until they live happily ever after. Or until I feel less bad about where my life is headed.” She sits down next to you and lets you rest your head on her shoulder while you desperately try not to cry for the second time today. The first week after the breakup you allowed yourself several meltdowns a day, the next week just one and this week you were really trying to keep it together as much as humanly possible. Needless to say, with your movie selections and inability to turn the camera or microphone on during your work meetings on Zoom in case you did get overwhelmed, things weren’t looking good.

“Do you think I made a mistake? Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled the trigger so fast and heard him out?”

Jade’s sigh gave you the answer you weren’t wanting to hear, but told you everything you needed to know. “Look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. But I am going to tell you that you are going to have to go over there and grab your stuff. You can’t just live in my clothes for the rest of your life. This depressive state cannot last forever.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll text him now and make sure I’m only there when he’s at the facility.”

The next morning you found yourself in a very familiar place. Everything was spotless like no one even lived there. But the place was full of some of your most fond memories. The spot in front of the fridge where you kissed Justin for the first time. The couch where you spent many nights watching movies or looking for missing cards from a Settlers of Catan game that had Justin flipping the board over when Patrick beat him. So much time spent in the bedroom you were standing in now, where all of your things remained exactly where you’d left them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pack your stuff. I really wanted to—make it easier for you but, that just made it more real that you were really gone.”

Of course he came home just for this.

The sound of his voice should have startled you but it brought you peace instead, it was a sad form of validation to see and hear that he was also struggling. “Is that why you haven’t slept in your bed?” You ask, finally feeling brave enough to turn and face him. He looked good, tired but good.

He lets out a dry chuckle. “You really don’t miss a thing do you? I’ve been sleeping in the guest room near the office. Didn’t feel right being here alone. But I understand why you left. And I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am y/n.”

“Well… are you sorry enough to help me pack up all of this stuff?” Under the guise of your humor, he could tell this was the very last thing you wanted to do so he just nodded and got to work.

The next few hours were spent packing and loading things into your car, every box held a piece of him in it. He held the last one in his hands and stopped you as you grabbed your keys.

“I want to be the man you deserve. And I promise I’m working on it.”

You motion for him to put the box on the floor and he does so immediately, gladly welcoming your body into his arms. This is where you wanted to be for all of eternity, without worrying about the real world and ignoring your intuition and just letting your heart cloud what your brain has been yelling at you since you walked away from him. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, running your fingers through his hair and watching him melt into your touch. This is your home, this is the man you love. So why in the world would you walk away from it? Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the distance between you two became nonexistent and all you could think about was giving into this moment and letting it all go. You closed your eyes and felt him inch closer and closer to your face.

And then you remembered everything that went wrong.

“Justin, I’m so sorry. I can’t.” You pulled away from him. “I need you to show me you’re trying. The best apology is changed behavior. As embarrassing as it is to admit, part of me will always belong to you and I need you to either match my energy or I need to move on because I can’t keep living like this. I’m not going to.” You picked up the box yourself and walked as fast as you could back to your car and drove away without a second glance. If this was going to work, he was going to have to earn you back.

“Should I throw her a makeup birthday party?”

Keenan and Derwin both look at each other and shake their heads. “Her birthday was like a month ago bro, a little cake and some flowers isn’t gonna do shit for you now.”

“How am I going to show her how much I care about her?”

Derwin places a hand on his shoulder, “you gotta dig deep, Herbo. Think about what the fight was about and deal with the problem head on. And be honest with her…and yourself.”

“Aye…that was deep man. I didn’t know you had all that in the drafts.” The wide receiver nods at his teammate. “But forreal Herb, do what you gotta do to get your lady back man. You got a good one, make sure she knows that.”

“No you’re right. We gotta beat Denver first and then I can figure out what to do after that. Thank you guys.”

Keenan stands up to dap him up before they head to practice. “You know we got you brother.”

He had to admit the protection had been pretty shaky all game. The quarterback felt rushed and had little to no time in the pocket before getting hit and the receivers had been struggling heavily with drops the last few weeks. The offense had just not been rolling in the way he hoped and their playoff window was closing quickly. On 2nd and 7 he threw a zip pass to Donald Parham over the middle for a first down, bracing himself for impact as Zach Allen, the Broncos’ 285 pound defensive end, came running at him. Their bodies got tangled up on the way down and somewhere in the fold his index finger got stuck as the rest of his body continued its descent to the turf. Something was off and he knew it but continued to play until the drive was over. The trainers looked him over on the sidelines and decided it would be best to take him back into the locker room for an x-ray.

Meanwhile, you had it been able to resist turning on the game, having watched everything unfold. But this time all you could do was sit in anticipation instead of going straight to the tunnel and speak with the staff. You’d been here before. You've seen this. He’d broken another finger just weeks earlier against Las Vegas but they’d just thrown a shit ton of tape on it and he went right back in. But this was his throwing hand, his money maker and admittedly, it had you worried. You opted to send him a quick text letting him know you hoped everything was okay, even if your gut was telling you it wasn’t.

Justin slammed his helmet down looking at the x-ray results and threw a hoodie on to head back out onto the field and cheer on his guys. The physical pain in his finger paled in comparison to how he was feeling mentally. He’s let down his teammates, his guys. The coaches. The fans. All these people that were counting on him were going to be disappointed. With four weeks left in the season he knew it was a long shot to try and play again. But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing everything in his power to try to be ready until the doctors gave him the official word that he couldn’t. After the game was over and he headed to the locker room to change, he shot you a text back that he was fine and headed to his post game presser.

You know that feeling when you don’t even remember going to sleep until you open your eyes and question your entire existence? Yeah that’s what was happening to you now. The knock on the door startled you out of a sleep you didn’t even mean to take and you sleepily stood up from your seat on Jade’s couch and opened the door.

The man on the other side of it had you thinking you might still be asleep. But there he really was, hand heavily taped and in a splint. At least his hair was finally dry. “I’m so sorry for coming by so late, is Jade asleep? Were you?”

“She’s out with some guy tonight and you’re fine. What are you doing here, what’s going on?”

You step aside to let him in and close the door behind him. “I lied to you earlier. And then I realized that I was making the same mistakes that got us in this mess so I got an Uber and wanted to finally be honest. With you.”

“Justin what are you—what do you mean?”

“I’m not fine,” he states with a shaky sigh. “I signed this big contract in the offseason and was on top of the world. This is my team, you know? I’m the guy. They trusted me with all this money and I don’t even know if I deserve it anymore. I let them down and now I’m not even sure I’ll get to play with these guys again this year. And I don’t even know why my first instinct is always to tell you that I’m okay. Maybe I’m trying to spare your feelings and not burden you with this ‘whoa is me’ attitude but I do want to tell you everything. I—I trust you with my life, I just haven’t been acting like it. You’re the only one I want to tell everything to and I haven’t been treating you like my partner and I’m sorry for letting it get this bad.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before speaking. “Justin I need to tell you something and I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say.” He nods and waits for you to continue. “You. Deserve. Everything. Okay? I mean god this team is probably winless without you. You’ve willed them to be competitive ALL year and somehow along the way you’ve been convinced that this is your fault. It’s not you. You are NOT the problem. If anything babe, you’re the fucking standard. You set records, you are who everyone compares their quarterback to and you know why? Because you have rallied those guys and they believe in you. Your organization believes in you. I believe in you.”

“Thank you for saying that,” he whispers, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. “And I know I can’t erase the past or what I did but you’re everything I could ever want. Much more than I’ve ever asked for. And I fucked up the best thing I had. There isn’t a moment that I don’t think about it. Maybe…we could start over? Not forget any of the mistakes that were made along the way but learn from them. Clean slate, so I can earn your trust back.”

He waits for you to respond, the silence quickly killing his confidence. Maybe he really had lost you for good. You look down at the floor in sadness, still unsure about if this one conversation was enough to change the course of your relationship. Justin doesn’t wait any longer, kissing you on the forehead and walking out the front door. The quarterback sat in the Uber with a heavy sigh, trying to come to terms with the chaos of his professional and personal life. A few hours later when he couldn’t sleep in anticipation of his doctor’s appointment in a few hours, there was a knock at the door.

“I’m so sorry to bother you this late but I just couldn’t shake this feeling that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Oh I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, I’m y/n.”

Justin’s smile takes over his face, dimple in full display. “It’s nice to meet you y/n, I’m Justin.”

Maybe, just maybe…what started with the worst birthday of your life could be a really funny story to tell your grandkids someday.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert angst

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tiredlilguy · 9 months

Note

Hiii :)

First of all, your blog looks so pretty! I'm really looking forward to seeing more works of you.

Secondly, could I please request relationship headcannons for Verlaine? Only of you feel like it of course.

Hope you have a great day/night!

Bye.

AAAAAAAAAA! thanks so much >:D i try to make it look pretty, i'm glad someone noticed tysm >o< this request is cute asf, so ty for requesting :D i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: Verlaine X GN!Reader cw:desc: just some fluffy, romantic hc's with the silly french man mwehehe

oh my god, you finally got him out of the basement (congratulations)

Joking, but anyways

Im doing these hc’s of him post SB btw

he’s really sweet to you, but he probably doesn’t talk much

Will recite little lines of poetry that he wrote when u come visit him in the basement, sometimes sad, sometimes happy

But you’re his muse, the moment that you start frequently visiting him in the basement, you’re all that he find himself writing about

If you two are in the same room though, he probably won’t talk much, but he does enjoy your presence

He doesn’t mind if you talk though, he enjoys listening to your voice and hearing you talking about your day

Get him desserts when he’s down there, or just food in general; the mafia only gives him rations (and he barely eats them), but he’ll appreciate anything you get him

Love languages are quality time, likes to receives acts of service and strangely enough physical affection

Really hesitant to touch you at first because he thinks he’s going to hurt you for some reason, mainly because he has a hard time thinking that he’s worthy of human affection

If you touch him, he’ll probably go stuff at first before relaxing into it

When he did start initiating forms of affection though, he would probably gently put his hand over yours, or kiss you on the hand when he greets you

(Let’s say u somehow got him out of the basement)

He spoils you… he gets all this money from being a Port Mafia executive and so what's he going to do with it? I mean, you’re mafia too, but you don’t earn nearly as much as he does

You will be living in a penthouse on the top floor with way much more space that you actually need

He’ll get you luxury everything and anything, you have his credit card in your pocket whenever you’re going out by yourself and you don’t even realize it, he’ll just slip it in your wallet or pocket when you’re not paying attention

I can see him liking to slow dance with you, he’ll have a record player in the background and when you get home he’ll take you in his arms and slow dance with you

Can he cook? Hot take, but no. (Rimbaud taught him everything, just not how to cook), but I can see him being somewhat of a househusband (he cleans around a little bit and will get you groceries for dinner, but he cannot tell the different between a pickle and cucumber… please send him pictures)

If he’s not in the basement he’s in the penthouse, probably not doing much unless Mori calls him to go train another subordinate

He just likes to be at home, but sometimes he needs to get out of there too because he gets too much into his own head

If he is out with you though, he’ll enjoy going to a cafe or a library; somewhere where he can just enjoy his time with you whether you’re both quiet or talking

Or he’ll sit at the park with you, but only if there’s not too many people

He won’t be doing that on his own though, he’ll only do that with you

Is ok with PDA, but just hand-holding; he’ll kiss you on the cheek if he’s going to leave you for a second though

Likes to sleep with you on his chest, he sleeps on his back

Or he has an arm around you in some sort of way :)

will melt if you braid his hair/take care of his hair in any way-

Will hum lullabies to you, either consciously or unconsciously; he just enjoys being able to see you fully relax in his arms

And is happy to know that he’s not really a monster after all (aw, yay)

#paul verlaine x reader #paul verlaine bsd #verlaine x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

The Soul Trade(ing Card Game) Chapter 2

As was dictated to me by the poll, I have delivered.

(AO3)

“So, uh, Batman,” said Constantine, hating everything about this, “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“Hn,” said Batman, and Constantine understood he had the man’s whole attention, even though he didn’t look away from the screens arrayed before him. Monitor duty. Constantine was glad the Justice League Dark didn’t have to do that.

(At least, he thought they didn’t. If anyone had ever told him they did, he had promptly forgotten about it.)

“I need you to look into whoever left me this letter.” He dropped the letter on the desk next to Batman and flexed his hands. Yeah, the magic in it was sure something, but it was passive, as far as he could tell, traces picked up from being around something infinitely nastier. It was safe. Probably. It hadn’t blasted any of the people who had handled it between the desk in the Hall of Justice and the Watchtower, anyway.

Batman glanced up only briefly before taking the letter. He read it, quickly, without his posture changing at all.

“Hm,” he said, the tone of the grunt just slightly more contemplative. “Are the claims in this letter legitimate?”

“Well,” said Constantine, “let’s just say that reading it felt like…” His face twisted as he tried to find the words to describe what it had felt like. “Yeah. Even if this bloke doesn’t have everything he says he does, he has… a lot. There are traces on the letter, magically speaking.”

“What’s the effect of that?”

“God if I know,” said Constantine. “I didn’t even notice this. At least, he could go ahead and cast whatever spells on me he wants. Soul’s a lot more intimate.”

With a press of a button, the screens went dark. “You shouldn’t be up here if you’re compromised.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know about this until ten minutes ago!”

“Return to ground.” Batman stood and loomed over him. “I’ll look into who sent this letter and tell you my findings.”

That was probably the best Constantine was going to get. Honestly, he didn’t even want to be on this glorified deathtrap in the sky.

He didn’t like the feeling of getting kicked out, though.

“I’m going to need the letter back. I’ve got my own tests to run on it. Get an idea of what kind of nasty we’re dealing with. Magic stuff.”

Batman handed it back. “I’ll walk you to the Zeta Tubes.”

“What do you mean someone bought your soul?” asked Zatanna. “I thought you’d already sold it ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I guess souls can be resold. Should’ve realized that demons would try to replicate the whole banking hellscape we have here.”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind,” said Constantine, letting himself sprawl backwards in the chair. It leaned dangerously, the weak leg bending. “I did sell it. I sold it a bunch. Got it set up so no one could really claim it without the others freaking out. Set some time limits on a few earlier ones, that worked pretty well, but, eventually, that didn’t work anymore, no one would bargain for that, and I figured my soul was pretty much a lost cause anyway…” He tucked his hands in his pockets and fingered the lid of his flask.

“Don’t you dare start drinking while I’m here.”

He hauled himself forward. “Far as I can tell, what’s written in the letter is true, as far as the owning part goes. The whole sorry bit and the let’s meet bit, I’m less clear on.”

He did have some thoughts on how to deal with it. But he wasn’t sure how well it’d work, and the guy - if it even was a guy - was a complete unknown.

He shrugged. “I was hoping for a second opinion.” And maybe a bit of… comfort. Something. It felt like the only time he saw Zatanna anymore was if the Justice Morons were poking at stuff no one sane would come close to with a ten foot pole.

(He missed her.)

(He missed when they used to be an item.)

(Which was stupid of him. But he’d never claimed not to be.)

(She wanted to keep things professional though, so. He’d try.)

Zatanna paced around the table. It was clear except for the letter, Constantine having expended much effort into cleaning it off (dumping it onto the nearest alternate flat-ish surface, the seat of a sagging armchair).

“I don’t know how much more I can tell you. There’s magic here, but it’s traces, and it’s… muddled. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, love.” So much for being professional. Sue him. Some things just slipped out.

Zatanna nodded, evidently not even noticing. “Laever ruoy sterces,” she said, staring intensely at the letter. She shook her head. “Laever sesruc. No, no curses, at least. That’s a relief?”

“Yeah, I guess. But he doesn’t exactly need to curse me through a letter if he’s got everything he says he’s got.”

“Don’t give up just yet. Let me try a few other things. Ezylana eht snigiro fo eht lacigam secart no sight retter. Wow, huh.”

“What?”

“Well, like I said, there are all sorts of magical traces on this thing. Demon magic, which is expected, bits of yours, some of the ambient stuff the Watchtower picks up… but there’s also a lot of spirit magic.”

“You think we’re dealing with some kind of shaman? A summoner?” In addition to demons and whatever else, that was.

“Maybe,” said Zatanna. “There’s death, here, too, but I can’t tell if it’s outright death magic or necromancy.”

Constantine groaned. “The difference is academic. I’m screwed. S’pose I should be grateful or something he didn’t hit me with a compulsion to show up and grovel in front of him, felt the need to give me a heads up before he tortures me for sport or whatever necromancers do for fun.”

Zatanna made a face, but it was very telling that she didn’t deny it was a possibility.

“Just promise me you won’t go looking for this person on your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the Bat on it. You know him. Tall scary guy. World famous detective. About as boring as he is scary with all his rules.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Zatanna. “You’re going to need magical backup for this. Call me. Or at least someone who knows what they’re doing.”

The opposite of what he wanted to do, really. People died often enough around him without actively dragging them into his problems, and this was a massive problem.

“Can’t make any promises.”

Because Constantine couldn’t really do anything else about the letter or its contents (besides scream inside his head and swear at himself), he decided to go about business as usual. Exorcisms, investigations, a touch of vampire stabbing, a few (disappointingly dry) ghost hunts. Normal stuff.

At least, it was normal until the demons started to run away from him. They didn’t usually do that, not even the weak ones. He did have a reputation, but not one like that. His reputation was that of a cheat and a con… and someone who got people close to him killed. None of that really put off bloodthirsty demons, who were a right pain to genuinely kill, and who often as not had some connection to old Lucy.

But they were running now, and not just the weaker ones. They weren’t even fighting him. Not getting hellfire tossed at him was nice, but demons were not nice. Ever.

So, what could he do but catch one?

He walked around the circle, double checking to make sure the scuffle with the little imp hadn’t scuffed any lines. He’d made mistakes like that before, and they were never pretty.

“So,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “what’s a demon like you running from little old me for?”

The demon, predictably, hissed at him. Constantine rolled his eyes. Typical.

“I’m going to ask you again, and if you don’t answer, things are going to get real unpleasant for you.” He pointed at those circle. “Read ‘em, if you don’t believe me.”

The demon arched itself like a cat, which was an interesting choice seeing as it wasn’t at all cat shaped.

“You were chasing us, John Constantine,” it said in a deep voice that belayed its size.

“Yeah, and that’s usually your lot’s cue to turn around and jump me. What’s different?”

The demon laughed, unpleasant and high-pitched like a teakettle coming to a boil. “What’s different? What’s different? John Constantine, you know what’s different.”

“Humor me here.”

It chuckled and started pacing around the inside of the circle. “Who owns you, John Constantine?” it asked in a silky voice. “Where is your soul, John Constantine? Not with you. Not with the First of the Fallen. Not with any of the princes of hell, or any god in its palace. Who owns you, John Constantine?”

“What, you’re saying that just because Lucy doesn’t have dibs on me when I die anymore, none of you are interested? Try the other one, it has bells on it.”

“Fool!” shouted the demon, now sounding disturbingly human. “Fool! Fool! A fool you are, but we are not, oh, no. No, no, no, we are not. What manner of thing could steal from them? What manner of thing could satisfy so many demons? What manner of thing could have such essence that it clings to you even now? Who owns you, John Constantine?”

Those were some good goddamn questions. “You’ve got a name for me, or is this you saying you don’t actually know, you’re just so freaked by the idea of it you’re shaking in your boots? Scales. Whatever.”

“Do not mock us, John Constantine,” it said, back to sounding properly demonic. “We are no fool! We know you will suffer.”

Yeah, well, that was just the natural state of the universe, wasn’t it? In any case, it didn’t look like this little punk had any idea what it was talking about. They didn’t tend to be very bright, just smart enough to parrot what they overheard from more powerful demons and dumb enough to give up information when threatened with basic binding spells.

He banished the imp back to Hell with a twist of his fingers.

So. Whoever or whatever had gotten their hands on Constantine’s soul, they were scary enough that demons didn’t want to draw its attention by getting involved with Constantine. Which was. Yeah. Not great. Story of his life.

He’d known that they’d have to be nasty, sure. They’d have to be, to get all of Constantine’s contracts. Constantine hadn’t sold his soul to just anybody. Those first three bastards especially had power. Hell, they’d cured his terminal lung cancer. Partially to avoid a war but mostly to be petty.

Admittedly, after that, he hadn’t been quite so discerning. Or careful about the wording. But he knew that so long as old Lucy had his eyes on him and a finger on his soul, no one would dare collect.

A lot of good that did, in the end.

Who would Lucifer trade with? Why would he give up the right to torture Constantine eternally post-mortem?

Constantine was getting sick of not knowing. He was tempted to just go to that meeting spot, but without more information, that would be unforgivably stupid. Constantine was not stupid. Usually.

His Justice League communicator (foisted on him by the Bat) pinged obnoxiously at the bottom of one of his pockets. He’d forgotten it was in this coat. He sorted through his pockets crossly as it pinged again. It had better be important. He found it under a crumpled bag of crisps and yanked it out with a spray of crumbs.

“What?” he said, shortly.

“Constantine,” came Batman’s deep, gravelly rumble. “I have news.”

Well, crap. “You gonna share that news this century?”

“It would be better to discuss this in-person. You do not have a secure computer.”

“Jesus,” said Constantine. He would have argued, but, technically, Batman was doing him a favor. “Fine, you paranoid maniac. Where?”

‘Where’ turned out to be a low-risk interrogation room in the Hall of Justice. Constantine was not a fan of this arrangement, but he understood it. He was compromised, or whatever, and the interrogation rooms were private and had video screens.

On the other hand, it was in America, and even Zeta Tubes couldn’t help with jetlag. And, worse, it was nonsmoking.

Batman personally escorted him to the room, and turned on the main screen with a remote control. Pictures of a pale-skinned teen with blue eyes and black hair sprung up. School pictures, mostly, but some looked like ID pictures, one was on the cover of a magazine, and another looked like an avatar in a video game.

“Do you recognize this boy?”

“One of your kids?” asked Constantine.

“Answer the question.”

“No, I don’t know him. Should I?”

“He’s the one who dropped the letter off.”

“You’re joking.”

In answer, Batman clicked the remote again, bringing up surveillance videos of the Hall of Justice’s main desk taken from various angles. The clips started off looking normal, the overly clear, expensive footage characteristic of an organization associated with Batman.

But then, static swam over them. Not enough to fully obscure the figure walking into the frame, but enough to be obvious. The boy from the pictures. He walked to the desk, had a short conversation with the receptionist during which he handed over the letter, and then left, taking the static with him.

“Well, hell,” said Constantine. It had been a while since he’d seen a demon take a form like that, but he supposed this one must have learned that he had a soft spot for kids. Or maybe this was a kid. A demon kid. He’d thought he’d taken care of all of his, but wouldn’t have been the first time he’d screwed up, and this whole situation was a collection of screw ups.

“Do you know what could cause the static?”

“Whole range of spells, but I’m gonna bet you already knew that from Zatanna.”

“Hm,” said Batman. “The name of the boy is Daniel Fenton. He is fifteen years old, and his major claim to fame is discovering that a purple-backed gorilla on loan to his local zoo was female. He also makes an occasional appearance on the leaderboards of the video game ‘Doomed,’ where he is a well known player.”

“A demon playing video games. Now I’ve seen it all.” It wasn’t so much that demons couldn’t have hobbies, he just didn’t care to learn them, if they weren’t relevant to beating the crap out of them or tricking them into taking a holy water shower. Then again, there was an outside possibility that ‘Daniel’ wasn’t a demon. “Any of this have a point?”

“Establishing facts,” said Batman. “It is possible that you had encountered him via the internet.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who plays video games?”

Batman clicked the remote again, a map appearing on the screen, a blinking dot appearing in the middle of nowhere, US. “Daniel lives with his older sister, Jasmine, and their parents Drs. Jack and Madeline Fenton in Amity Park.”

“Amity Park?” repeated Constantine.

“Is it familiar to you?”

“I think I looked into it once. Supposed to be haunted. Veil there is maybe a little thin, but nothing on the Tower of London, or, hell, the British Museum. You wouldn’t believe what all those stolen grave goods can get up to together. Your permanently overcast city is more haunted. It’s a dead end.”

“Maybe not. The Drs. Fenton are friends with the billionaire Vladimir Masters, but primarily derive their income from their patented inventions, which include customized ‘branding’ toasters, high-efficiency toilet paper, ultra-lightweight camping gear, various treatments for radiation poisoning, and several items that have been marked classified by the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Energy, for their use of dangerous energy sources.”

Constantine’s eyebrows went up. Mad scientists mucking about with radiation were generally not in his wheelhouse. Or even riding the same tracks, for that matter. “You think they went poking around in the occult for their ‘dangerous energy sources?’”

“Possibly,” said Batman. “In addition to their inventions, they are moderately well-known in ghost hunting communities, which explains their presence in the reportedly-haunted Amity Park. However, everything they’ve written on the subject indicates that they believe ghosts have a strictly scientific explanation. They also,” continued Batman, the corners of his mouth pulling into a slightly deeper frown, “believe that ghosts are nonsentient and nonsapient.”

“So, they have no idea what they’re talking about. Just some big brains that got sucked in by the kind of fraudsters who started the seance craze. Great. I’m sure Deadman’d love to have word with them. If they could even see him.” He rubbed his chin. “But the must’ve run into something real if their kid’s doing all this. Or if what looks like their kid’s doing all this.”

“You don’t believe Daniel Fenton is the one in the video?”

“Lemme put it this way. Odds of a random kid pulling one over on the demons I sold my soul to are about the same as you developing a sense of humor. Best case scenario, he’s just possessed, or he’s some kind of freak like Klarion.”

Batman grunted in acknowledgement. “Approximately six months ago, Jack Fenton purchased an ‘authentic demon soul contract’ from Ebay.”

Constantine opened and closed his mouth several times. “You’re joking.”

“As you are aware, I have no sense of humor.”

“Jesus Christ. Ebay?”

“The seller was a man named Eric Chambers. Zatanna investigated him earlier this week. He is, apparently, an amateur demonologist who wanted to ‘get out of the game’ and was in the process of selling off all his magical paraphernalia. He had sold several additional versions of your soul contract to another buyer in Amity Park. A known associate of Daniel Fenton named Samantha Manson. Are any of these names familiar to you?”

“Not exactly,” said Constantine. “But… Ebay?” He’d never thought his soul was anything special, but at least he’d thought it was worth enough to not be resold on Ebay. “And how did this Chambers bloke get them?”

“Apparently, the demons he’d summoned no longer wanted them, and he was under the impression that he could ‘put you under his thrall’ if he collected enough of them.”

So the guy who had his soul wasn’t even the first one to have the idea. Brilliant.

“And that’s it?”

“I could tell you Daniel Fenton’s grades and internet habits,” said Batman. “As well as those of his close friends and associates. Apart from his parents and his recent involvement with you, he is ordinary.”

“The thing with the gorilla is ordinary, then?”

“Most people have at least one outlier event in their lives. It would be of greater concern if he did not.” He paused, staring long and hard at Constantine. “What are your initial thoughts?”

“That I’m about to get screwed up the–”

“Regarding how Daniel Fenton got involved in this.”

“Like I said, it’s probably not Daniel Fenton. I’d guess… If I had to guess, I’d say that after Fenton’s dad got hold of that contract, he went and played around with it. Something like a genuine contract can be used to do a lot. It has the magical signatures of both the original demon and whatever sorry bastard signed it. If you’ve got that, you can ring up the demon.” He raised his hands, miming a scale. “Demon, inexperienced idiot teenager…” He tilted to one side. “You get the picture.”

And, yeah, wasn’t it great that he could cause people to die just by leaving his junk everywhere? He hadn’t learned anything from the dream sand.

“You believe Daniel Fenton summoned a demon that possessed him, which then proceeded to collect your soul contracts?”

“Yeah. Can you pull up a pic of the contract Jack Fenton bought?”

Batman briefly examined the remote, then flicked quickly through several slides, stopping, finally, on a very classic demonic soul contract. Constantine had signed several like that, so he had to squint at it and read through it line by line. It wasn’t like he memorized the handwriting of every demon he’d ever made a contract with. In fact, he’d memorized the handwriting of exactly zero demons. They didn’t precisely write a lot, and you either got illegible chicken scratch or equally illegible ornate gothic script.

He got to the name and swore. “That guy doesn’t have the power to go up against the First of the Fallen.” He rubbed his chin vigorously.

“It’s possible that Chambers sent a different contract to the Fentons,” said Batman, “or Daniel was… infected after receiving the other contracts.” More pictures popped up on the screens. “However, there is a problem with this theory.”

“Yeah?” asked Constantine, already scanning the contracts. The Bat didn’t like Constantine’s ideas. What else was new?

“Daniel’s behavior has had no significant changes in that six month time frame. But if we go back by just over a year, to when he was entering high school, his grades took a steep dive and several disciplinary actions were noted on his record. His close friends’ grades took similar, but smaller, hits at the same time.”

“You think he could have been possessed earlier.”

“I believe that something happened to him at that time. I am unconvinced it was possession.”

Constantine shook his head. “None of these guys are strong enough to begin with. Maybe if they were working together… Nah. None of them could work together. That’s why I picked them.” He rubbed his eyes. “Then again, I thought no one could get all my soul contracts, so who knows?”

“Are you sure possession is the only solution?”

“God, no. Hell, we could be dealing with a cabal of homo magi, or someone back from the grave who seriously hates me, that’d explain the death magic on the letter, at least, or maybe there’s a god hanging around getting their kicks poking at me. It’s just a giant blank. I’ve never heard of this kid. I’ve never heard of his family. I’ve barely heard of Vlad Masters. I’ve got nothing.”

“Hm,” said Batman. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m guessing ignoring it forever isn’t something you’d let me do?”

“No.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to go investigate, then.”

“In that case,” said Batman, pulling a fat folder of papers out of his cape somehow, “you will need to know more about Daniel Fenton, his associates, and Amity Park.” He dropped the folder on the table with an audible thump.

“Great,” said Constantine. “Just what I wanted. Homework.”

Constantine and Zatanna zeta’d to the nearest tube near Amity Park. Batman had arranged an ‘untraceable’ rental car for them, paranoid bastard. Demons didn’t usually have the skillset required to trace license plates.

Then again, there might be more than demons involved. Even if necromancers generally had no skillset outside of necromancy.

There could be shamans, though! They were well known for their technological acumen!

Yeah, right. It was possible, but not bloody likely.

“I could teleport, you know,” he told Zatanna. “We could both teleport.”

“Into the home turf of an unknown magic user?”

Constantine rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the car window. “I’m surprised the ol’ Bat isn’t coming with us.”

“You know he is,” said Zatanna. “I’d give even odds that he’s already there, if I had any desire to gamble with you.”

“Hey! I could be good for it. I have steady work now!”

Zatanna shook her head. Constantine huffed.

“I’m going to take a nap. Might be my last one, after all.”

“John,” said Zatanna, “you’re not going to die. Don’t you think this is a little… excessive, considering all the stuff you’ve gotten out of before?”

“No one’s owned my whole soul before. Now, I really am going to go to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.”

Death.

That’s what pulled Constantine out of his dreams and into a nightmare, and from there into wakefulness. The feeling did not dissipate. Instead, it grew stronger.

He looked over at Zatanna, who was still driving. Her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff.

“What the hell,” croaked Constantine.

“It’s been building as we get closer to Amity Park,” said Zatanna. “It doesn’t feel… actively malicious… More like a massive haunting. It’s been building slowly.”

Constantine swallowed and tried to rub sand out of his eyes. “That’s– Where are we?”

“About ten minutes out of Amity Park.”

“No. I’ve been to Amity Park. It doesn’t feel anything like this. It’s boring.”

“Well,” said Zatanna, strained, “something’s changed. At least we know where the letter picked up all that death magic.”

Constantine breathed in deeply through his nose. “Yeah, there’s enough of it here for me to feel it, God.” It was making his skin prickle. He shook himself all over. “Might as well stay awake now. Do you mind if I set my wards?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Constantine walked into the diner and looked around. It was very American. Retro. Quiet. Not entirely clean, but Constantine had been in way worse. The air smelled strongly of cinnamon, coffee, and hot chocolate. Not the kind of place he generally bartered for his soul, or away his soul, as the case might be.

An aggressive ‘No Smoking’ sign was positioned prominently next to the cheery ‘seat yourself’ sign. Constantine scowled at it. Sometimes it felt like there was nowhere to smoke anymore in the whole world.

Daniel Fenton, easily recognizable from a legion of school photos and a junior astronaut camp photo ID, was sitting alone at a booth, a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream in front of him. He swung his legs back and forth and scribbled in a notebook. A few tables away, not nearly as sneaky as they clear-ly thought they were being, were his friends Manson and Foley.

Zatanna had entered the diner before him, of course, and Batman was most likely… somewhere. God only knew where. Constantine knew people who could turn invisible and shapeshift that weren’t as good at it as Batman.

Before coming in, Constantine had finished setting his wards. His pockets were full of all sorts of tests, charms, and apotropaics. As he stuck his hands into them, a spray bottle fit easily into his hand.

Walking to the table felt like walking to his execution. He made the comparison with confidence, because he had the relevant experience. When he stopped next to the table, Fenton looked up. His expression was confused at first, but in less than a second he lit up, clearly delighted.

Constantine also had relevant experience in spritzing demons with holy water.

Fenton flinched, but he didn’t start howling or melting. More’s the pity.

“Did you just spray me with holy water?” asked Fenton, blinking up at him with a realistic expression of befuddlement.

“Guy’s gotta know what he’s dealing with,” said Constantine.

“Well, I’m not a demon.” A slight furrow worked its way between his eyes. “Or a devil.”

“What are you, then?” asked Constantine.

Fenton shrugged. “I don’t know. An amateur demonologist? I don’t have any training in this kind of stuff, which is probably why all this happened.” He reached to the side and grabbed his hot chocolate. “Oh. You got my whipped cream with your water…”

“You don’t have any training?”

“Not in this,” stressed Fenton. “I go to school and stuff.”

And astronaut camp, assuming this really was Daniel Fenton and not something possessing or impersonating him.

“Anyway, are you going to sit down, or…?” Fenton looked him up and down.

Constantine scowled and slid into the booth. Then he threw some salt (purified) at Fenton.

“Hey,” complained Fenton, “you’re going to ruin my hot chocolate, jeez.” He picked up the mug, pulling it towards himself.

Constantine took the opportunity to grab his notebook off the table and flip through it.

“Maths?” blurted Constantine.

Fenton set the mug back on the table and leaned over to snatch the notebook back. “Like I said, I do have school. That’s why I can only hang out here on Saturdays. You did miss the last few meeting times.” He huffed. “I know this isn’t ideal, but can we work together here? I don’t actually want to own your soul.”

“Oh, yeah, amazing way of showing it, mate. I know who and what I sold my soul to, and I don’t believe you bartered with them without any training.” Or that he was human, but as long as he was invested in the facade, he probably wouldn’t eat Constantine’s face off.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any training. Just no training in this. I don’t know exactly what you can do beyond make bad demon-related decisions, but you had weeks to do research. You’ve got to know about the ghosts.”

“Might. What about them?”

“My parents research them. Fight them, sometimes. It’s a whole thing. Demons weren’t any harder to deal with.”

“I sold my soul to archdemons.”

“Yeah, they kind of sucked, to be honest.” Fenton bit his lower lip. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me, but what I did to get your contracts wasn’t anything anyone couldn’t do. Most of them didn’t even want them anymore. The first batch I bought off of a random dude on Ebay. One of them paid me to take the contract, because they hated the doll you wrote it on so much. A lot of the others just wanted me to give you problems, which I think I’ve succeeded at, actually.”

Constantine had forgotten about the doll, actually. “And the archdemons? I know for a fact they’ve been looking forward to torturing me forever, so I doubt they’d just hand the contracts over in exchange for ‘giving me problems.’”

“Oh, yeah. For those guys, I just robbed them. There were also a few people I just beat up.”

“Demons aren’t people, they’re demons.”

“Sure they’re people. They’re just evil people. But they used to be angels or something, right?”

“... No,” said Constantine.

“Okay, well.” Fenton shrugged again. “They still are thinking beings, right? So, they’re people.”

Constantine honestly didn’t know where to go from that.

"Fine," he said instead. "You aren't going to tell me how you got the contracts or what you are. Is it too much to hope you'll deign to tell me why you did this?"

"I'm a teenager, why do we do anything?" Fenton sipped at his hot chocolate. "Mostly, I thought it'd be funny."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought it would be funny. I mean, Dad bought the first one, because he thought it'd help with his ghost research, but it didn't, so he let me have it. I asked Johnny about it, and he told me about your contracts, so I–"

"Who's Johnny?" interrupted Constantine. "Some demon friend of yours?"

He did have a strategy, here, sort of. Most ultra powerful magical beings had a limit to how much annoyance or disrespect they'd tolerate, even when disguising themselves. Constantine had a knack for finding those limits.

Also, just possibly, the hapless teenager act was throwing him off. It was remarkably believable.

"No, he's dead, to begin with, not–"

"Oh, so, you took advice on dealing with demons from someone who turned up dead right after telling you about me. That sounds brilliant."

"He's a ghost. He's been dead since at least the nineties, and I doubt you had anything to do with it. Johnny died in the eighties. I think.”

“A ghost told you about me?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what wizards or magicians like you can do or sense, but if you looked up anything about Amity Park at all, you should have seen there are a lot of ghosts here. It’s not just tourist trap stuff. That’s… actually one of the other things I wanted to talk to you about, if I managed to get enough of your contracts to get you to come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, not all ghosts are nice. I meant it when I said your demons sucked. That’s compared to the ghosts. And sometimes to the people who come to hunt the ghosts.” Fenton drummed his fingers on the table, nervous. “It’s a toss up which group causes more damage. The Guys in White are especially awful. It would be nice if the Justice League took a look into them?” His voice took on a hopeful lilt.

“You bought my soul to tip off the League about… Guys in White.”

“They’re with the government. Presumably. No one knows what they’re really called. And they chase people around screaming about lots and lots of painful experiments. Direct quotes.”

“You know the League has a tip line.”

“Tried it.” Fenton took a huge gulp of hot chocolate.

“I don’t believe you,”

“If you hang out here for very long, you and your friends will be able to see the ghosts for yourself.”

Constantine could already feel the ghosts. Or at least the pervasive, overwhelming sense of death permeating this city. He didn’t doubt that something requiring Justice League Dark attention was going on here. Beyond just whatever was going on with Fenton himself.

But his attention was taken by two other points.

One, what he didn’t believe was that Fenton did all this for only some combination of kicks and giggles and wanting Justice League attention. Contacts with ghosts or not, burglarizing archdemons wasn’t something anyone sane blew off as nothing.

Two, Fenton had said friends. He’d understand if he’d made Zatanna, but the plural implied that he’d spotted Batman, too.

He didn’t let himself react. “No one rips off archdemons to call in a tip. Or just for fun.”

Fenton looked guilty, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “I didn’t want to bring it up, it didn’t seem appropriate anymore. And the other thing isn’t… relevant.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant?” asked Constantine, despite how all his senses were screaming wrong wrong wrong at him. “This is my soul we’re talking about, after all.”

“I know, I know,” said Fenton. “But you didn’t exactly…” He trailed off. “The other thing was that some of my friends thought you need an intervention. We also wanted to see your face when we… intervened. Yeah, we thought it’d look kind of like that.” Fenton pointed at him.

Constantine slapped away the hand. He was almost convinced Fenton was… Well. Not normal, but maybe not homicidal, or particularly interested in enslaving Constantine or torturing him for all time. A step up from some of the other things he’d sold his soul to in the past. Possibly.

(The whole ‘teenager’ thing was definitely an entry in the negative column, though. As well as the whole humiliation and mockery angle.)

“What else?” he demanded.

Fenton’s face twisted with embarrassment and jealousy. “You get to go up to the Watchtower, don’t you?” he asked. “You get to go to space.”

“So?”

“So, I want to go to space. I was, um. I was going to… ask you to take me up there. Just to look.”

Infiltrating the Watchtower was a much more obvious motive, but… Constantine remembered the space camp ID.

“I mean, I’m never going to get up there with my grades. Fighting demons for it seemed… feasible.” He shrugged, then started to slump. “I was going to give them back, you know. Your contracts. I didn’t want to keep them. Or your soul.” He pushed himself up. “Anyway. None of that matters, now. We've got a problem to solve.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, as I explained in my letter, the contracts sort of… exploded."

"No, back up, what do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Well, if this doesn't make you stop selling your soul, I don’t know what will, the Justice League knows about Amity now, I'm not going to make you take me to the Watchtower when I can't trade your soul back to you, and the funny boat sailed at about the same time my friend told me this might be permanent."

"Is this friend also dead?" drawled Constantine.

"No, he's more in the never alive category."

Which possibly explained some of the spirit magic Zatanna detected on the letter.

"He thinks it's because some of your contracts said after death instead of when you're dead, so, because there weren't any competing claims, they all came due at once. Since there were so many of them…"

"Repetition makes magic stronger, yeah, yeah," said Constantine. "I read the letter."

"I was hoping you'd have some solutions. No offense, but I don't want to own you. You're, like, an entire person."

Constantine wouldn't have been offended if Fenton hadn't prefixed his statement with no offense.

“You should have thought about that before buying up my soul.”

“I was going to give it back. No strings.”

“Except for a trip to the Watchtower.”

“If you really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have made you,” said Fenton.

Somehow, Constantine believed him. Which was crazy. He’d have to check in with Zatanna to make sure he wasn’t being enchanted somehow. Charm person should not be a real thing magicians could do, and yet…

“Look, do you want me to swear it on the Styx or is there something else I can do to convince you I’m telling the truth?” asked Fenton. “The ghosts seem to like the Styx, anyway.” He sighed. “Tell me you have something that can fix this. I don’t know what kind of side effects there are for owning a person’s soul. It’s not like this happens all the time.”

Hell if Constantine knew. The only way he knew to get out of contracts like this was loopholes exploited before they were collected on. “I’m… going to have to do some research.”

“Well,” said Fenton, “let me give you my phone number.” He slid a piece of paper across the table. “You can call me if you figure anything out. In the meantime, if you’re staying in town long, you should look into the ghost thing. Talk to my parents, even. Maybe don’t mention all this, though.”

“Why not?”

“I love my parents, but they must have skipped out on the day they teach scientists that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. Anyway, I’ve got to go.” He started to shove things into a purple backpack he’d pulled into his lap from under the table.

“What? Why?” As far as Constantine was concerned, they’d only just started to scratch the surface of the problem.

“Me and my friends have tickets to a movie.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Manson and Foley, who, apparently, were not trying to blend in or be subtle. “You did miss the first few meeting times.”

“Your impression?” asked Zatanna, later, sliding into the booth after Fenton and his friends were thoroughly gone.

“He’s… surprisingly believable. Claims he ‘doesn’t have any training’ in magic, though, which sounds like crap, unless his parents are much more legit than what they look like on paper.”

Zatanna crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbow. “He wasn’t lying. Not that any of my spells could detect.”

Constantine huffed. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“He doesn’t seem like he could take on archdemons, but with help from ghosts or spirits? We don’t know who’s backing him.”

“God,” said Constantine, “that’s not something I was thinking of.”

“Because you were fixated on the demon theory.”

“But if he’s being backed by someone powerful, why wouldn’t they buy up my contracts themself? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not saying that his… patron, for lack of a better word, put him up to it. Just that he might be getting extra support.”

A waitress came up to them, smiling cheerily. “Hello, there, sorry for the delay. Have you decided what you’re getting?”

“The hot chocolate looked good,” said Zatanna.

“Knock yourself out,” said Constantine, standing. “I’m going to see what Fenton’s parents are like.”

“John Constantine?” repeated Jack Fenton, inquisitively. “Ha! That’s the same name that was on that fake demon contract thing I got on Ebay! What a wild coincidence, huh?”

“You could have mentioned the portal to the astral plane in your basement,” hissed Constantine into the phone. A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that he shouldn’t take that tone with someone who owned him, but he ignored it handily.

“Would you have believed me if I told you?” asked Fenton, genuinely curious.

Constantine wouldn’t have, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Also, what did you call it? I’ve never heard anyone call it that.”

Batman’s deep voice rumbled through the communicator. “What did you learn?”

“I learned this place is a nightmare and a half. There’s a portal to the astral plane in that kid’s basement, did you know?”

“I ran into a ghost while Constantine was talking to the Fentons,” said Zatanna, leaning sideways while keeping her eyes on the road. “It was much more powerful than any other ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“That is not good news considering what I have learned about the so-called Guys in White.”

“Have you found anything?” asked Fenton. Wherever he was, his reception was crap. His voice crackled with enough static that he might as well be calling from the early nineteen-twenties.

“No,” said Constantine. It had gotten him excused from the Justice Club meetings, which meant that the failure was almost worth the headache the idea of his soul being owned by a teenager caused him.

“I didn’t find anything either.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Uh,” said Fenton. “I’m really grateful you guys got the GIW out of Amity, you know that, right? And that you guys put someone on watch here for bigger threats?”

“Yeah,” said Constantine, slowly. “Sure.” It had been mostly Batman managing that side of things, as Constantine was banned from decisions regarding Amity Park, but if Fenton was going to give Constantine credit, who was he to deny it?

“So, um. That was really great of you.”

Constantine was not liking where this was going. But, apparently, this was his life, now. Getting tips and awkwardly phrased requests from… God. The creepy necromancer brat was sort of his warlock patron.

… Curse his knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons. It was definitely a detriment to his profession as a real mage, and everything he learned about it was against his will and usually the Flash’s fault.

“What is it, Fenton?”

“Have you ever heard of the Showenhowers?”

#dc/dp #dcxdp #fic #my fic

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menacing-menace-rat · 1 month

Note

Heya! Just saw your post so I hope you don't mind my fluff related somewhat crossover of Batman and Moon Knight:

In this random AU, Bruce Wayne witnessing the death of his parents was such a traumatic moment that it would spiral to give him DID (his extra personalities being Steven Grant and Jake Lockley from Moon Knight).

Now in present time, each character of the batfamily (of your choice) while doing something together (maybe training perhaps) can't help but each remember fondly about the first time meeting Bruce and eventually finding out and meeting his other personalities as well and how much it was quite a surprise. They even each tell their most fondest memories with Bruce, Steven or Jake, by the end, they don't realize that Bruce Wayne has came back, smiling with Steven Grant and Jake Lockley also feeling happy.

Hope that's okay, thanks and have a great day

Hey! Okay I think I understand the request but in case I don't, feel free to ask again. I have never done cross over stuff before but I love both batman and moonknight so I'm excited to try. They really feel like they fit together so well. I can totally imagine the wild interactions between these men. Anyway without further or do here you go! 😄

The kids were used to Bruce's changes. Most of them thought of Steven as a second dad. Jake only came out when needed but having a family seemed to mello him out almost like he felt safe with them.

It had been a rough night for everyone. Gotham just seemed to be falling deeper into the hands of crime lords and maniacs. Dick, Jason, and Tim made their way to the kitchen for a snack before bed.

“Any of you catch Jake and Bruce arguing again?” Tim asked as Dick grabbed them all some cereal.

“Nah I got real good at tuning out their bickering. Don't take them so seriously. They will work it out.” Jason says as he shoves a whole huge spoonful cereal into his mouth.

“Do you guys remember a few Christmases ago when Steven and Alfred worked all morning to set up the living room for a Christmas card photo and Damien puked all over the rug?” Dick said as he finally made himself a bowl. He smiled as he remembered the look on everyone's face. There they all were dressed in their finest and poor Damien just couldn't keep it down.

“All I remember was the smell. I told him not to eat the ancient candy canes in the decoration box.” Tim said with a chuckle. “I thought you were going to bring up when Jake bought that bike and tried to park it in the greenhouse. I thought Bruce was going to throw that thing in the pool for a second.” Tim added.

“Oh my God I forgot about that!” Jason interjected as he choked down another large spoonful. “That bike was great. I think that was the first bike I ever rode. Jake can be a pain but he taught me everything I know about bikes. I hope Bruce wasn't jumping down his throat too much tonight. The guy really has a knack for taking the fun out of vigilante work.”

Everyone knew Jason and Jake were close. When Jason first came back from the dead Jake was the only person he'd let near him. They just understood each other. Jake was the father Jason thought he needed.

“Jake's alright but Steven will let me talk his ear off all day if Bruce isn't busy. I even got him into RPGs and he helped me rebuild my computer.” Tim commented finishing his bowl of cereal first.

The boys continued talking about their shared experiences with Bruce, Steven, and Jake. It's an unconventional set up for a family but they all manage to make it work together.

At some point Bruce realized they hadn't gotten around for bed yet so he looked in the one place he knew he'd find three teen boys, the kitchen. Sure enough they were there all sat on stools, cereal long finished. They were boisterously recounting their favorite moments with their surrogate fathers. If Steven had been in control a tear might have come to Bruce's eye.

The sun started to rise and eventually they all went to bed. Bruce couldn't help but sleep a little sounder knowing Steven and Jake were loved by his adopted sons. He couldn't ask for a better family.

It got a little sappy near the end but I hope you enjoyed. It was a really fun AU to write. The idea is super creative and sweet. I hope I did it justice. 💕

#batman #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #bruce wayne #dc comics #marvel #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #au fanfiction #fluff #asks #reqs open

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mayflowers515 · 2 months

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@tiaragamin

I played two games of Mario Party 9 not too long ago + a minigame mode!

First time through, I played as Bobby (Peach) with Hoppy, Kickin, and Picky (Daisy, Wario, and Birdo respectively). Kickin chose the board most likely (it was Blooper Beach anyways). So basically some interesting notes I picked up from that + potential hcs...

Kickin seems like he would be pretty good with minigames that require some skill. Bro literally got a perfect strike in Goomba Bowling. Funny enough, Picky also got a strike there- (she was determined ig). Ngl, Hoppy only got 13 points there, but I feel like she might've done better with that minigame (taking account the events that DID happen though, she probably was a little salty Kickin and Picky got it with that much ease-). Meanwhile Bobby didn't get any points. She tried copying what Kickin and Picky did, but... it didn't quite work out for her T^T

Okay, when it came to that and the previous minigame Player Conveyor, it made me think that Bobby isn't the best with certain minigames compared to others. She managed to get better in this round after the mini boss with Lakitu, though. (She struggled with that a little in the beginning but has pretty much gotten the hang of things by the time he was all mad and stuff-)

At one point, Kickin landed everyone on a 1v3 space and he picked the minigame Mob Sleds. I feel like, talking about characters here, he picked that thinking he wasn't going to get caught. But no joke- LITERALLY AT THE LAST SECOND BOBBY GOT TO HIM- Hoppy just dying laughing in the background and teasing Kickin when that happened. Picky was probably like, "Oh damn..." and Kickin is just sitting there with his jaw dropped like- "HOW?? HOW?!?!" (his ego got crushed there lol) Also, made me realize those Wario poses are literally him 💀

By this point, Bobby has gotten a better hang of the minigames. She was likely more desperate to try to catch up at least since she was in last originally- The others are impressed but also probably like "Oh, now it is on!" with her lol (if we're talking character here, she may not be so desperate to the point she would make everyone else get in the path of Mini Ztars, which I feel bad about btw because that's literally what I made her do and then I was thinking back about that decision and made me realize that Bobby would've just taken the Mini Ztars for the party's benefit T^T Ig the excuse I could put here would be that she was desperate because she kept falling behind before)

She still didn't do THAT good with all the minigames though. Particularly Upward Mobility (she wasn't as fast with it as the others were; partially due to my own inability to win that minigame lmao). I think she also does the memory related ones well. She wouldn't have THAT good of a memory as Bubba ofc, but she did good in minigames such as Plunder Ground.

Btw, not only is Bobby a total tild card in the minigames, but she is also pretty much the group's savior. The second the event happened where Mini Ztars were filling the board she just happened to get the right number needed to reverse them back to Mini Stars. The group was probably relieved as heck when that happened-

HOPPY'S MINIGAME SHOWED UP AT ONE POINT :)) Unfortunately she didn't win though 😔 (she definitely would win that more going by character though) Kickin and Picky were neck and neck by the end, and Picky ended up beating him. He was pretty salty about that since he was sure he would win now that Hoppy's rocket fell behind (his ego recovered in that gap between Mob Sleds and Launch Break ig and now it cracked again lol). Bobby did lose ten mini stars from getting 4th this time tho since they got Launch Break through a Fire Bro battle minigame... (this is weird cuz like, you want to feel bad because she keeps getting the short end of the stick when she doesn't win. She got fourth in quite a few of the minigames where she didn't get first, but like- she's also doing very well with them at the same time 😶 She literally kept swapping between receiving 1st and 4th with BARELY an in between- Talking character though, I feel like she'd be more likely to get like 2nd or 3rd in minigames. When she loses though, OH BOY SHE LOSES-

By the homestretch, the party was getting more into the Bowser Spaces (not AS frequently as that one experience that was mentioned for a different round but it was still a lot). Mainly Kickin kept getting those spaces, and let's just say... my dude's got LUCKY with those! 2 times out of 3 he landed on giving mini stars to last place, but the thing is... HE IS IN LAST PLACE LMAO. HE JUST KEPT RECEIVING MINI STARS FROM BOWSER. Even in the one time Kickin didn't get that in the Bowser Roulette he still didn't lose Mini Stars. There was a reverse mini game at one point (Thwomper Room) and he WON. By that point, Kickin was just joking like- "BOWSER SURE LOVES ME TODAY". Hoppy and Picky were just rolling their eyes. Bobby in the background just listening but also being sad that she didn't get out first (she and Kickin got hurt by the thwomp around the same time, but Kickin seemed to have gotten to it a frame before she did TvT' Also ig the excuse for Bobby wanting to get out here is that she couldn't imagine the others getting hurt by the Thwomps lol- The others would be like "Sure sure..." She can be mean against them if she wants to, but probably wouldn't be so mean to the point that they can't recover).

Also thought it'd be funny to mention that during the homestretch, Bobby just to happened to get the lucky space TWICE that led the party to the star island, but Picky was always the one that won all the Mini Stars at the end. She really did get lucky there- After this point, most likely everyone was certain Picky was going to win considering where she stood between the rest of the party, so they started to get a bit tense about that I think lol.

Near the end with the Bonus Stars, I genuinely thought Picky was going to win the Minigame Star since she kept getting first in many minigames. I guess I didn't keep track of how often she did, tho- Bobby still won it despite how many times she got 4th in some of them (she has really gotten better near the end ig). Speaking of Bobby and Picky, Picky had a LOT of Mini Stars in general, but because of Bobby landing on the Boss Battle space, receiving first place from Wiggler AND the captain bonus, I'm pretty sure that was the upper hand she needed cuz SHE WON!! Nobody was mad completely though since she was getting kind of screwed during the rounds. Though I can imagine Hoppy used what Kickin said earlier about Bowser loving him to her advantage though since he ended in 4th lol. Hoppy herself got 3rd (she was a little salty about that since she thought she'd do better, especially with the minigames but they were surprisingly not her strong suit this time. Kickin probably tried to tease her back about that lol). Meanwhile, Picky was just proud of Bobby for winning, though deep down kinda sad because she thought for sure she would win ;v; Bobby beat her by ONE mini star lol. For context, Bobby got 71 Mini Stars, Picky got 70, Hoppy got 53, and Kickin got 46.

Alr, second time through, I decided to play as CatNap (Shy Guy) with DogDay (Toad), CraftyCorn (Yoshi), and Bubba (Koopa). The board chosen was Toad Road since two out of the four Critters in that round (DogDay and CraftyCorn as was mentioned before) have that as their favorite. So what happened here that could be potential hcs? Well...

Not TOO much happened at the very beginning. Though at 10 to Win, I can imagine Bubba was absolutely trying his hardest to remember where every single card was despite how scrambled they all were. He didn't do too badly, but some of the cards were mainly ones he didn't want to get completely. CatNap's the opposite I imagine. He just chooses whatever seems right. That didn't work too well for him in this round, though (he got last ;-;) Crafty kept getting cards that supported everyone from what I remember (probably relieved her to know she could've gotten worse than she did). Pretty sure DogDay mostly won because of the cards the others chose (like a 1st card Bubba ended up getting at some point, DogDay was in 1st at the time and I can imagine Bubba just facepalmed when he did that-)

Just want to mention that Shy Guy's fourth place animation did make me think of CatNap, though I feel like if CatNap showed how he'd react to last place, he would just sleep away his sorrows if he got last lol

Speaking of CatNap, I feel like he's a menace in Mario Party. Like, anywhere else he's pretty chill, but make him play a game? Oh, it's like there's another side of him sorta- (he still keeps his laid back energy but he's clearly having fun against the party) Mainly thought of that because of him getting a 1v3 minigame (Spike-n-Span) and he pretty much wasn't holding back. He got EVERYONE.

I guess Bubba learned about how easy it was for CatNap to win that minigame because literally when he landed on a 1v3 space himself, HE CHOSE THAT SAME MINIGAME- He probably leeches off of the experiences he witnesses in the game and uses what he has seen to his advantage (it doesn't help for the others that Bubba has really good memory so he would probably know what to do to win; this could go for Mario Party in general tbh). Unfortunately, Bubba lost the minigame that time- Ironically enough tho, CatNap got out first lol

Every time the party kept getting Bowser Jr spaces, it was because of DogDay. I find it funny that Bowser Jr always paired him with CatNap tho (probably bc of him being first player tbf tho). First Bowser Jr minigame they played together wasn't so good. They played Sand Trap, and CatNap was a little confused on what to do. DogDay wasn't faring much better though. I feel like he was mainly waiting to see what CatNap was planning so he took his time. When they lost that one, I feel a part of CatNap was probably thinking "If we go down then we go down together :>" but another part of him felt bad because he legit had no idea what he was doing. DogDay was likely assuring him after that, hopeful that they'd win against Bowser Jr again next time. Sure enough, when DogDay landed on another Bowser Jr space, they did :) That minigame was Double Pounder. The instructions were easier for them to understand by that point. CatNap didn't really mind that DogDay got Mini Stars too that time (pretty sure DogDay wasn't in first by that point from what I remember). DogDay was just happy the two were able to win together. Probably gave CatNap a small hug after that. (Meanwhile Bobby in the background is just going: AWWWWWW 🥹🥹)

Oh yeah, Crafty was just chilling with her first place status in the first half too. She had about 33 mini stars during that point. She's not exactly planning on bragging about her status. She was just internally hoping she wouldn't get destroyed later TvT (she got this ahead because of a lucky space she landed on where climbed up a vine and got all the mini stars in that area- 12 MINI STARS) At some point, CatNap was catching up to her in terms of Mini Stars so there likely was some tension by that point. Crafty is just scared but at the same time defensive about her stars. Meanwhile CatNap was probably just silently hoping something happens to her stars and that he can get ahead-

This especially shows when Crafty got the Captain event. She legit chose CatNap to go last 💀 She was hoping it would be less likely for him to get the stars at the end if he was last. For more context, she chose Bubba to go first, then either herself or DogDay, but considering she was still in first, I think she was thinking that she could get the Mini Stars if she rolled high enough, so she would've needed to be the third person to do that- Unfortunately, Crafty's ploy didn't go too well. CatNap STILL got the stars at the end. Pretty sure that made them even in Mini Stars by that point-

CatNap just casually dominating most minigames... Pretty much like that with minigames like Pinball Fall. My guy literally didn't fall down a hole ONCE during his run- I think he probably has a bit of luck similar to Picky but he also is genuinely determined to win and happy to see the others struggling in the minigames deep down. Doesn't exactly voice this, but if you paid attention to his expressions, you'd know

Also, I think CatNap just pretty much wins a lot of the Reverse Minigames. The minute he hears that's what happens when the group lands on a Bowser space, he's like "K. I always wondered what happened if I just willingly jumped into this" in the most casual tone. DogDay would just look back at him concerned-

Meanwhile for Bubba, poor guy barely won many of the minigames (much less end up in 1st). I feel like he would still do very well in certain minigames taking character into account. He probably wouldn't be super fast though since he would prefer to calculate his moves I can imagine. Probably why he waited so long to even try to hit in the minigame Logger Heads (ironically enough though, he still ended up hitting a bomb at one point-) What made things worse for him was that he got no points and it was a Bowser minigame where they fought between half of the whole party's Mini Stars. He was already in last place by that point. He was likely frustrated about that, but pretty calm about the frustration anyway. Just silently facepalming and grumbling at himself for doing something he sees as dumb. Can also imagine that in general, Bubba would get much more quiet if he was in last due to the frustration but also because of trying to focus and think about ways to get himself back in the game. The party would probably be concerned about that-

Okay, I just wanna say for the record... The bosses in this round are the exact same as last time. For highlights there, Bubba got the captain bonus for the Lakitu boss and Yoshi's 4th place animation legit made me think: "Yeah, that looks like Crafty right there" because I could imagine her doing that 🥺 As for the Wiggler boss, CatNap was literally dominating everyone in that. He didn't even lose any points either. He also had the captain's bonus lol I imagine he just did all that with the most chill expression ever, too lol. He'd probably just be like "Imagine losing..." to everyone else in a casual way. If Kickin was playing against him, he would get offended by that so much lol

Speaking of dominating, there was NO CONTEST with the winner by that point. CatNap beat everyone by at least 60 MINI STARS- HE GOT 104 TOTAL COMPARED TO CRAFTY'S 40, DOGDAY'S 37, AND BUBBA'S 30 NEAR THE END- I blame that on Logger Heads tbh. The minute that minigame happened, CatNap just dominated Crafty in winnings. There wasn't really a chance for her to win now T^T Bubba was disappointed in himself but at the same time, not surprised that CatNap won now. He also blames CatNap's winning on Logger Heads and luck (since CatNap could get the captain's bonus easily since he was only a couple spaces away so he could use his 4-6 dice he kept on him) Meanwhile DogDay is just absolutely amazed by how well CatNap did. No bad blood against him at all. He's just happy for him :> (We love the golden retriever and black cat energy)

Finally, I decided to do one of the minigame modes for fun. I chose to play as Kickin this time and also adding Bobby, Crafty, and Bubba. I chose for them to do Choice Challenge. They had to choose between five minigames, which were Thwomper Room, Urn It, Tuber Tug, Polar Extreme, and Pit or Platter.

Bubba was the only one to choose both Thwomper Room and Urn It. LITERALLY JUST HIM. He got 200 points right off the bat. Bobby and Crafty were pretty worried by that point, but Kickin wasn't at all expecting that- He was probably making sure he won the next minigames he chose. Funnily enough, he was trying to go for Thwomper Room, too, but he must've accidentally chose another minigame. It would've been a StarStudent matchup there (sorry StarStudent shippers ;-;)

Bubba didn't choose Tuber Tug and Polar Extreme but Bobby, Crafty, and Kickin did, so it was literally just competition against those three for a bit. They practiced Tuber Tug first through Kickin's plea because he was wanting to make sure his Wii Remote worked (he wanted to make sure he could dominate his competition- Don't blame him). I can imagine Hoppy would likely be calling him a chicken in the background for not going straight into the minigame despite knowing how to do it. Either way, Kickin won the minigame and got 100 points. Crafty got 50, and Bobby 30. No practice was done for Polar Extreme as the instructions were simple. (Btw, this was the minigame Kickin accidentally picked over Thwomper Room-) All three of them still never made it to the goal, though Bobby survived the longest so she won. This time Bobby got 100 points, Kickin got 50, and Crafty 30. Considering how well she did with the minigames last time they played together, I can imagine Kickin would get pretty suspicious of Bobby. Though he isn't nearly as worried about her as he is with Bubba. Y'know... THE DUDE WHO GOT FIRST PLACE AND DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TRY TO GET THERE.

Everyone chose the Chance minigame, Pit or Platter. Kickin's ego was probably kicking in again by that point because he's usually good with skill minigames. This one wasn't his best attempt at it though. Hoppy calling him out probably cut him deep so he didn't choose to practice this time, even though he probably needed it- Either way, he just wanted to make sure it wasn't Bubba that won. Sure enough, Bubba didn't win that minigame. Bobby did

Bobby really proved to be a wild card when it comes to minigames, but it actually goes in her favor this time- She actually won against Bubba by 30 points. She had 280 and he had 250. Crafty and Kickin were pretty far down in terms of points though. Poor Crafty didn't get first place once- Kickin meanwhile is just glad Bubba didn't win but also a little salty that Bobby won since she won against him last time- It didn't really matter to Bobby that she won anyway. She was just happy to play with her friends. She let them know that too through her usual affection :>

(Sorry this was so long, but I had a lot of fun doing this- It's not everyday I'm able to play on my Wii due to college stuff 🙃 I hope you liked what I listed tiara, and in general, I hope y'all enjoyed =v=') Speaking of tiara, credits to her for the Mario Party 9 headcanons idea for the Smiling Critters. These were fun to come up with :)

#smiling critters #smiling critters headcanons #bobby bearhug #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #pickypiggy #catnap #dogday #craftycorn #bubba bubbaphant #mario party 9

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