A little of that who-shot-John (dp x dc)
Constantine was nursing a nice Scotch Whiskey as he sat in his new favourite pub, when walked in a very familiar face. Red hair, stunning violet eyes, and pink lips that were just begging to be kissed.
Jasmine, Constantine remembered her name belatedly. They’d had a fling while he’d been on a case in the states and the woman had been half the reason Constantine had had any fond memories of the trip coming back.
What were the odds of them meeting back again on his side of the pond? Fate was clearly at play here, nudging him back onto the beautiful woman’s path.
Constantine downed his drink and turned towards Jasmine, as he raised his hand to wave her over, when the door opened again and in walked another very familiar face.
Crystal eyes and soft black hair, the man who walked in had Constantine nearly choking on his spit. Because that was Daniel, ie the other half of the good memories from the states.
“Fuck,” Constantine mumbled under his breath as he turned away from the two. What the hell were these two doing here together!
As he tried to make himself look smaller, he tried to obscure his face with his empty glass, while his mind whirled for a plan to get out of there and fast.
“John!” Came Jasmine’s voice, and Constantine closed his eyes, pained, before he steadied himself and fixed a smile on his face as he turned around. He could still salvage this. He could.
“Jasmine!” He said back as if he’d just recognized her, as she approached him. Daniel hadn’t seen him yet, but by the curious glance he was sending Jasmine, that wouldn’t hold true for long. “What are you doing here?”
“Me and my baby brother are on a vacation to celebrate my getting my diploma,” she said with a brilliant smile.
Constantine could feel a pit form in his stomach. “Baby brother?” He repeated weakly.
“Oh, let me introduce you,” she said before turning back. “Danny!”
Constantine could feel his battered soul withering away as he watched Daniel make his way over to them.
“Johnny!” Daniel exclaimed joyfully. “Is that you? What are the odds!”
“Haha, yeah, those are some crazy odds,” Constantine said through his gritted teeth.
Jasmine turned towards her brother - her baby brother! - with a confused little frown on her face, even as she kept her smile. “You know John?”
“Boy do I,” Daniel said with a sly wink in Constantine’s direction that had the man wishing he could teleport.
Constantine laughed weakly as he tried desperately to figure out how to steer the conversation elsewhere, but it was too late.
“Oh?” Jasmine let out, still confused, and it was like watching a car accident in slow motion. “When did you meet?”
“Last summer,” Daniel said, “I told you about him, remember?”
“No,” Jasmine said dubiously. “The only guy you told me about was-“
Her head turned so fast, Constantine could almost hear the crack.
“John,” she started calmly. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“Depends what you think it is?” Constantine tried for relaxed and knew he had missed by a mile.
“Jazz?” Daniel said, as he frowned confusedly.
“He’s the guy I told you about.”
Daniel’s eyes widened before narrowing to slits as he fixed his gaze on the magician.
“John, would you care to explain?” Jasmine asked, icily calm.
Had Daniel’s teeth always been this pointy?
Constantine gulped. “Not really, no.”
Jasmine's eyes flashed a neon green.
“That,” Jasmine growled, “is the wrong answer.”
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DP x DC Constantine Jr: Father Son Bonding
So John Constantine is more than a bit of a hoe. He’s a disaster bisexual who’s taste in men is “Big and strong enough to fold him like a folding chair” and his taste in women is “competent and could probably kick his ass”
Both describe Doctors Jack and Maddie Fenton
So, I propose that Constantine had a fling with both of them and the resulting threesome resulted in Danny. And I don’t just mean that only one of them is his father, I’m talking more Greek Mythology where the mother slept with both a god and a mortal and both were the resulting child’s father. Danny is the son of both Jack and Maddie Fenton, AND John Constantine.
Probably due to some meddling from Clockwork
So, cut to years later. and Danny is starting to awaken some magical abilities. And thus, John finds out he has a son with the wacky ghost hunter couple he hooked up with years ago. Now Danny is dealing with the fact he has another dad that’s just a disaster of a person, as well as his uncontrolled magical abilities awakening. John is just trying to figure out how to be a functional adult while Danny stays with him for the summer, and if the kid could not mess with his many dangerous magical trinkets that would be great
Aka, Danny spends the summer with his estranged magic dad to learn how to handle his sudden magic powers and causes chaos.
Danny also seems to have inherited John’s resistance to omniscience, much to the displeasure of the Observants. He was bad enough when they could tell what he was going to do...
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ghost knew you would never cheat on him. that doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous from time to time.
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jealous of the way soap always calls you “bonnie” or “beauty” or “lass”. jealous of how you two train together when he’s managing the recruits. jealous of the sergeant-only meetings he’s not privy to. jealous of pub invites and drunk dancing. never enough to cross a line, never in a way you disrespect your relationship with simon, but it still makes him jealous. a feeling in the pit of his stomach, a slow fire that builds higher and higher every time soap’s hand brushes your waist to get past you. simon has worked so hard to be the loving man you need, and he won’t let soap take you away from him with a couple scottish pet names.
and now you’re in the common room late one night, arguing with johnny as per usual while perched on simon’s lap. simon doesn’t think much of it when he tells johnny off and johnny replies with a “fuck ye.” that is, until, you pipe up quietly “would you want to?” soap goes quiet for a second, considering.
“which one of ye?” you turn to simon, searching for something in his gaze. satisfied you found it, you turn back to johnny. “either?” simon clears his throat, hand finding your waist and massaging small circles into your skin.
“or both?”
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there's something about the way people talk about john gaius (incl the way the author writes him) that is like. so absent of any connection to te ao māori that it's really discomforting. like even in posts that acknowledge him as not being white, they still talk about him like a white, american leftist guy in a way that makes it clear people just AREN'T perceiving him as a māori man from aotearoa.
and it's just really serves to hammer home how powerful and pervasive whiteness and american hegemony is. because TLT is probably the single most Kiwi series in years to explode on the global stage, and all the things i find fraught about it as a pākehā woman reading a series by a pākehā author are illegible to a greater fandom of americans discoursing about whether or not memes are a valid way of portraying queer love.
idk the part of my brain that lights up every time i see a capital Z printed somewhere because of the New Zealand Mentioned??? instinct will always be proud of these books and muir. but i find myself caught in this midpoint of excitement and validation over my culture finding a place on the global stage, frustration at how kiwi humour and means of conveying emotion is misinterpreted or declared facile by an international audience, frustrated also by how that international audience runs the characters in this book through a filter of american whiteness before it bothers to interpret them, and ESPECIALLY frustrated by how muir has done a pretty middling job of portraying te ao māori and the māoriness of her characters, but tht conversation doesn't circulate in the same way* because a big part of the audience doesn't even realise the conversation is there to be had.
which is not to say that muir has done a huge glaring racism that non-kiwis haven't noticed or anything, but rather that there are very definitely things that she has done well, things that she has done poorly, things that she didn't think about in the first book that she has tacked on or expanded upon in the later books, that are all worthy of discussion and critique that can't happen when the popular posts that float past my dash are about how this indigenous man is 'guy who won't shut up about having gone to oxford'
*to be clear here, i'm not saying these conversations have never happened, just that in terms of like, ambient posts that float round my very dykey dash, the discussions and meta that circulate on this the lesbian social media, are overwhelmingly stripped of any connection to aotearoa in general, let alone te ao māori in specific. and because of the nature of american internet hegemony this just,,,isn't noticed, because how does a fish know it's in the ocean u know? i have seen discussions along these lines come up, and it's there if i specifically go looking for it, but it's not present in the bulk of tlt content that has its own circulatory life and i jut find that grim and a part of why the fandom is difficult to engage with.
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