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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months

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Finally getting help (prt 9)

Masterpost

“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall.

“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.

“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind.

“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.”

Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.

“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.

He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.

Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny.

Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.

This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony.

He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.

Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.

Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him.

Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?

Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”

When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.

-----

Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.

“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.

“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”

“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back.

He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.

“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said.

“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy.

“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little.

“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm.

He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.

Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”

“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.

“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #dead on main #jason todd #finally getting help au #Danny is pregnant #trans!Danny #vlad is a creep #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #damian wayne #tim drake #multi part fic #long post #unedited #let me know if you find any mistakes

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not-my-final-account · 5 months

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I’VE FALLEN DOWN THE RABIT HOLE OF DANNY PHANTOM AND NOW I CAN’T ESCAPE

Once the Justice League was losing. It was the end of the world. No seriously, the world was an hour away from being blown to bits.

Constantine sighed and rubbed his face, he had just ran out of cigarettes and it was making him more jumpy than was truely necessary in any given situation. Him and most of the bigger heros in the Justice League sat in a cave and were forced to wait out the apocalypse, well, the hour left of it anyways.

Constantine sighed and looked up to what you could see of the sky from inside their cave, he was almost… afraid. Afraid of what was going to happen, afraid that it had come to this, afraid that the rumours were true or even worse than they seemed, Pariah Dark was not known for caring nor his mercy.

Honestly Constantine was going to consider it lucky if he died and got to rest in peace, even more lucky if the world actually got saved! This was a last ditch effort.

Constantine grabbed a piece of chalk from his pocket, it was worn from years of carrying it around. He settled it on the flattest piece of stone he could find and started drawing the circle he had memorised. “John what are you doing?” Wonder Woman asked, he ignored her and took a deep breathe

“Oh dark king of the ghosts.” he prayed, there were truely only a few necessary words but Constantine felt like he needed to add a message, so he kept speaking as he drew the intricate patterns of the circle “My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please K I N G O F T H E G H O S T S.” Constantine begged, Wonder Woman and most of the others sat up or got more defensive, it truely said something that Batman didn’t bother.

Danny Phantom sat playing DOOM with Sam and Tucker, cheering when we got to a higher level. Suddenly something tugged at his core and a voice whispered through his ears

…oh dark king of the ghosts. My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please…

“-anny? Danny?” Sam asked “Hello?” she said in a sing song voice

“Still with us Danny?” Tucker asked, Danny swallowed,

“I- I’ve got to go.” he said

Constantine sat on his knees in front of the circle and… nothing happened, Superman glanced at him and started to sit back down when suddenly the stone inside the circle fell away into a green spiral.

Superman gasped and jumped back up

“Don’t attack him, bow.” Constantine instructed, reluctantly Superman and everyone else did, except for Batman of course, what’d you expect? Him to change? Just because the world was ending?

A pale hand reached up from the circle and grabbed the edge; whoever was in the circle pulled themself up slowly and as they came closer to the mortal realm Superman got a sense of dread, of death, of… something else, of authority, and everyone in the room seemed to find themselves bowing lower. Superman couldn’t help but think, had Constantine double-doomed the world?

Constantine looked up as the figure hovered above the circle, he was the first to move from his bow. This… wasn’t what Constantine expected Pariah Dark to look like, he was still imposing but didn’t fit the ghost kings reputation.

He had a cape as dark as the shadows with glowing constellations and stories sown into the fabric. He had a crown that burned with green fire and floated above his head, his eyes glowed the same green as the crown and his hand had a single ring. He wore royal looking clothes, white boots and gloves with a black shirt and pants.

This was the ghost king “Pariah Dark, King of Ghosts. I am Constantine-”

“Pariah Dark? I dethroned him years ago! I’m Danny Phantom.” the ghost king introduced.

“I meant no disrespect your highness.” Constantine quickly said

“I don’t- never mind. You asked for me to save earth?” King Phantom asked, Constantine gulped

“Y-yes, we can’t win, please, I- I’ll do anything.” he begged,

“A favour.” King Phantom said

“What?” Constantine asked

“A favour, I’ll save your world for a favour from you and your friends.” King Phantom said.

A favour to a ghost king who was probably very evil, that is so stupid and such a horrible idea, who in their right mind would-

“Deal.” Constantine agreed.

There was a flash of bright light and King Phantom disappeared, after a few seconds of him being gone the sounds of a battle echoed through the cave.

“Constantine what did you just rope us into?” Batman asked. Constantine really, really needed a cigarette.

Years ago, the world was ending. In a last ditch effort Constantine summoned… something. Superman didn’t know much about the ghost king that had appeared, just that he was powerful, and that the better half of the Justice League owed him a favour. It had been on everyone’s minds for a few months after that deal, waiting for the day they would be called for something horrific and hoping it wouldn’t ruin them or their morals. But truthfully, after a few years everyone sorta forgot about it; it was the type of thing no one remembered unless the subject at hand related to it, and even then you were uneasy for a day and forgot all over again.

So when a scroll appeared in a flash of green light during a meeting one day, Superman would like to say that the freaking out was justified.

Batman (who seemed to adopt everyone he met in one way or another) shushed the group of panicking superhero’s and picked up the scroll “I am calling in your favour, when you finish reading this you will all be teleported to my aid. Signed, Phantom.” Batman read. Oh no.

In another flash of green light they appeared in a park with a few heros who hadn’t even been in the room. Everyone immediately put up their defences and raised various weapons, then they realised the park was empty. Superman looked around using X-ray vision, he had no clue what was going on in the seemingly peaceful that could make a ghost king ask for help, then he looked through a hill and saw a giant green dog running with two kids gripping it’s lead.

As the dog jumped on top of then off the hill and ran in front of them Superman could make out the words in their screams

“Sit boy, sit!” the Batman looking one called

“I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! NO OFFENCE DANNNYYYY!!!” the one with devices falling out of his bag and pockets yelled.

Everyone lowered their weapons and Flash relaxed and scoffed

“This is what that ghost guy called us in for? This is going to be a breeze!” Flash said happily

“Don’t judge a book by its cover Flash.” Constantine warned. Superman was about to agree with flash when the ghost king suddenly appeared in the air in front of us, dripping in something green which looked alarmingly like blood- oh god the ghost king was dying!? Re-dying?!

“Forget I said anything,” Flash raised his hands in the air and got ignored as we rushed over to the ghost king who had fallen out of the air and onto the ground.

Before anyone could do anything though another person appeared out of thin air and then floated down

“Join me Daniel! Together we could rule the world!” he asked, okay that was an evil guy if Superman had ever seen one, he even had the looks to go with it, you could mistake him as Dracula … was that Dracula?

Suddenly another guy who looked like the ghost king body slammed Dracula from the air

“I WILL RULE THE WORLD AND ME ALONE!” as he stood up Superman noticed he looked just like the ghost king only older and more evil looking. As if the mention of look-a-likes summoned her, a small girl who also looked just like the ghost king only younger and female body slammed evil twin number 1.

“Not on my watch you fruitloop!” she yelled. Suddenly a woman in a track suit with ridiculous looking googles and carrying an oversized gun jumped down

“Get away you evil ghosts!” she yelled and fired some energy weapon at the small group, they all scattered and the four of them fought when some girl on a hover board swooped in and pointed her hand at the ghost king

“Danny Phantom! You and all of ghost kind will pay!!” she yelled, something on her wrist started glowing when

“GET AWAY FROM DANNY!” a school girl yelled. Her orange hair swung around as she discus threw her books and bag right into the girls face. They also ran off into the distance to fight.

“What?” Flash asked,

“When he said.” Green Lantern agreed.

“The Dracula looking one is Vlad, he’s a bad guy, so is my evil self from an alternate timeline, we call him Dan, Dani is the small girl who looks like me, that’s because she’s my clone, she’s on the good side but she might steal your stuff just because she can so be careful,” he took a wheezy breath “My sister Jazz is the one who hurled her books into the air to protect me, she’s good. The girl in the red suit is Red Huntress, she’s good she just doesn’t understand -same with my parents, the couple in the jumpsuits, their ghost hunters.” the ghost king explained

“Wait, your parents are ghost hunters?” Flash asked

“Yeah?” the ghost king asked- oh I see.

“But you’re a ghost?” Flash said

“I’m technically a halfa actually, but trust me I know. It’s all ‘we’re going to tear apart the ghost boy molecule by molecule’ and never ‘is the ghost boy good or bad’.” the ghost king groaned, I reached out to help “I’ll be fine go fight or help!” he said

#notmyfinalaccount writes #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

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mochegato · 2 years

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Pride Goeth Before the Superhero Landing

Jason eased up to the skylight slowly, melting into the shadows, using the darkness to conceal his surveillance. And it was surveillance. It wasn't snooping. He was perched outside a skylight to Tim’s Nest, as still as a gargoyle, and just as broody, because he was following up a lead, not because he was worried about his sudoteammate. It was because Tim had been acting strange lately and Jason just wanted to get to the bottom of it... in order to make sure it wasn't a threat... to Jason or the city.

It had been going on since Tim came back from Paris and he still hadn’t gone back to the morbidly sarcastic cryptid Jason knew and tolerated. He’d spent more time in Paris than Jason thought was strictly necessary to get the debrief…from magic users. And whenever magic was involved, things had the potential to go bad fast, with little to no indication that anything was happening. So, attention to details was especially important. Attention to details was the difference between saving a life and watching your br… someone strategically important to your job, become a shell for some demonic creature, which sounds like an exaggeration but, when you know Constantine…

He edged over to the rim of the skylight to get a better view, keeping low as he moved. He couldn’t see anyone, but he could hear irregular dull thuds coming from the room below, indicating there was someone or something in there. He eased his hand onto his gun and peeked further over the edge, ready to draw until he saw a mop of familiar black hair backing into view. He almost eased off the gun until he noticed Kon was backing away from a woman. A woman who looked very intent on landing one of her hits.

Jason watched the fight in rapt attention. The woman was gorgeous. She had a light sheen of sweat over her exposed skin and her eyes flared with passion. Her movements were experienced but clearly untrained. She was keeping Kon on his toes, which he knew from experience was difficult to accomplish. He wasn’t too worried, but he was keeping his attention on the woman in front of him.

He stifled a chuckle as he watched the fight. She was clearly putting a great deal of force behind her hits, either because she didn’t know about his invulnerability or because she thought she was stronger than it, but Kon was barely reacting. Until he did. Kon suddenly switched from defense to offense, swiping at her legs to knock her over. She jumped back, narrowly missing the hit.

Jason’s breath caught as he watched Kon swipe at her a few more times. Each attempt brought him closer to connecting. It didn’t look like he was holding back either. Unless Jason was missing something about this new woman, if Kon actually connected, he would kill her. But she danced just out of his reach. It was mesmerizing to watch her dance around him. Her lips curled into a grin as his fist sailed past her, just missing her face.

Jason’s face scrunched in confusion when Tim walked close to the fight and said something quietly to the woman. She nodded and looked back at Kon with a devious smile. She said something to Kon that Jason couldn’t hear, but whatever it was Kon froze long enough for her to drop kick him hard enough for him to step back half a step.

If she was a mortal, it was likely her ankle just got damaged with that hit, possibly her knees too. Jason pulled back to the edge of the skylight. He hadn’t realized how far over the window he’d let himself drift until just then. It was a miracle nobody had seen him already.

“You might as well come in; everyone knows you're there,” Tim’s voice carried over the com in Jason’s ear. Jason huffed and looked over the edge of the skylight to flip Tim off but he wasn’t looking up at him. Tim’s eyes never left the duo in front of him. “I turned off the security for the skylight.”

Jason clicked his tongue and dropped through, landing with a reverberating thud in the middle of the sparring area. “Oh my God, that was so hot.” He heard the woman whisper.

“No. No, it was not,” Kon grumbled. “It’s stupid, is what it is. He’s going to blow out his knees that way.”

“You land like that all the time,” she reminded him. “Just never look as sexy doing it.”

Kon narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, I do. And Kryptonian,” he motioned toward himself. “Doesn’t hurt my knees.”

He looked over to the duo who were now standing to the side, the woman’s arm resting on Kon’s shoulder and weight shifted to one leg. She smiled excitedly at him and waved with her other hand. Jason removed his helmet to glower at her deeply enough it was still apparent even through his domino mask. The woman’s hand froze until she lowered it awkwardly, the smile that had graced her lips now strained.

“Ignore him,” Tim called to her. “His pride is just hurt at having been caught. Jason, stop being so broody and say hello to Marinette.”

Jason glowered at Tim, who stared right back at him, completely unaffected by Jason’s glare. After a few seconds Jason huffed and gave her a two-finger wave. “Hey.” He turned back to Tim. “Real names?” he asked lowly.

Tim shrugged and started walking over to Marinette and Kon. “She figured out who I was and very quickly who everyone else was. Doesn’t seem like there’s a reason to hide it.”

Jason stared after Tim like he’d just announced his impending nuptials with Damian. He looked over to the woman, Marinette, warily. This was more than concerning. This was a lighthouse beaming a bright red light directly into everyone’s eyes. Secrecy was the utmost importance to Tim. Tim didn’t even share things with Kon if he didn’t have to, and Kon was possibly the most important person to him in the world. There was no way he was just sharing with this random new girl. She had to be doing something to…

“And before you go all conspiracy theory crazy,” Tim gave him a knowing look, “Diana vouched for her. She knows her and she,” he motioned toward Marinette, “already knew Diana’s identity. And Diana asked us to watch out for her.”

“So, she’s what? A new team member you picked up in Paris and didn’t tell us about?” Jason grumbled, his mind still trying to piece the new information together.

“She's right here and speaks English, but I can find someone to translate it to Prat for you, if that would make it easier for you to communicate. Kon?” She looked over at Kon innocently.

“I'm rusty in Prat. Can I offer services in Sarcastic Asshole? Also, Fuck you.” He leveled a warning finger at her that she completely ignored.

“Not my job,” she chirped at him. He scowled at her but the twinkle in his eyes as he turned and walked away clearly betrayed his amusement.

“I can do my own translation services in both those languages as well as Suspicious Bastard,” Jason cut in. He brightened slightly when she giggled at his comment. “Sorry, Tim usually doesn’t let new people into his Nest. It was suspicious. It’s nice to meet you.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say hi but interrupted by a towel thrown in her face. “Thanks, Kon,” she said wryly, knowing without looking who would have done it.

“Always eager to help,” he assured her with a teasing grin.

“That’s Sarcastic Asshole for ‘should have thrown it harder’,” Jason offered, his face completely serious.

Marinette cracked up laughing. When she looked back up, she’d shot Jason a brilliant smile, her eyes twinkled with humor. She started wiping the sweat from her neck and chest. “It's nice to meet you, too. Tim…” her eyes flicked to the side for just a moment, “…absolutely does NOT talk about you… ever.”

Tim's lips pressed into a thin line. “Good, good. Very believable, Mari. Remind me to add strategic data reporting into your training regimen…”

“Strategic what?” Marinette cut in.

“Paranoid Cryptid for lying,” Jason provided. He smiled when Marinette giggled.

Tim glared at him and continued. “As I was saying, add strategic data reporting along with self-maintenance and staying hydrated.”

Kon snickered and shook his head at Marinette. “Man, you’re worse at strat… lying than Adrien.”

Marinette gasped dramatically. “You take that back!”

“Make me,” Kon teased towering over her.

Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes. “Tim, control your boy.”

“Nobody controls Kon,” Tim stated proudly. He leaned closer to Marinette and covered his mouth with his hand in a facsimile of stealth. “You have to manipulate him into doing what you want, while letting him think it was his idea.”

Kon glared at him. “What the fuck, man.” He threw Marinette over his shoulder. “We’re getting ice for her ankle. And I’m getting water because I want it, not because I was manipulated into it.”

“That’s right,” Tim agreed with an overly innocent voice. “It was all your decision and not at all affected by anything I said or asked you to do tonight.”

Kon’s step faltered slightly but he pressed forward refusing to look back. Marinette giggled and pushed herself up to wave as Kon led her out. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”

Tim waited until the door closed behind them before speaking. “What are you doing here, Jason? I didn’t even know you knew where I lived, seeing as you’ve never visited… or talked to me, unless you had to.”

“You were acting strange lately. I wanted to make sure you weren’t… compromised,” he finished awkwardly.

Tim scoffed. “Uh huh.” He raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Jason rolled his eyes and took his mask off. There was no reason to keep wearing it if she already knew who he was. “You were begging off patrol and letting things roll off your back that you usually would have fought back on.” He moved to a chair and leaned back against it, before looking back up at Tim. “You’re an intel hog. You take missions purely because you want to have the information that others don’t. And you were just letting us take those missions. It wasn’t normal.”

Tim stared at him in shock. He didn’t think Jason paid close enough attention to him to know when something was normal or not, let alone have such an insightful observation, and then to be concerned enough to act on it. He scrunched his face in confusion, unsure how to handle the new information. He knew Jason went to great lengths to protect his family; he just didn’t think he considered Tim to be part of that.

Tim frowned slightly. And when Jason had determined something was wrong, he immediately went to something was wrong rather than Tim was busy with friends… “I have a life you know. I have friends that I spend time with.” Jason gave him a flat look. “Fuck you,” Tim grumbled with a light shove on Jason’s shoulder. “Marinette and her best friend just moved to Metropolis. After everything that happened in Paris, and it was a lot, and it was bad, really, really bad, Jason, she needed to get out, so I’ve been helping her, well… them actually.

“I was helping with the move, setting up the apartment, getting their schedules in order, strongarming the university to accept them last minute, not because they couldn’t have gotten in on their own, just because they didn’t bother to apply. They didn’t think they would ever have the chance to go to university because of all of everything in Paris.

“And training them,” Tim continued, the information now flowing out of him, unable to control his words in his annoyance. “They never got real training, just thrown into it all with a ‘good luck, you’re a natural. You’ll figure it out.’ And I mean, she is a natural. But that’s no excuse.” Tim let out a frustrated breath and ran his hand back and forth through his hair a few times until the frustration passed. “And going on double dates of course,” he added, trying to lighten the mood.

Jason’s eyes snapped to Tim for just a second before resting on the weapons lined up against the wall. “Well, you’re doing a shit job of it,” he grumbled.

Tim scrunched his face at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not training her very well, taking her skills into account,” he griped. His eyes narrowed at Tim, unforgiving.

“You don't know what she can do. You've never seen her fight. Really fight,” Tim scoffed with a shake of his head.

“I've seen enough and you're not playing into it. From what I saw, she’s a cross between you and Dick. Lots of flexibility, but strategic, doesn’t rely on that. You’re training her like she’s Kon or Damian… or me. You’re going to make it harder for her. She’s going to get hurt in the field if she listens to you,” he snapped.

Tim reeled from Jason’s sudden turn of attitude. He had been curious and even kind, but suddenly, out of nowhere he was aggressive and harsh. It made no sense. There was nothing that seemed to have sparked it. Tim hadn’t said anything that should have caused that change. He didn’t insult guns or Austen. There was nothing that should have led to this. “You haven't se... are you jealous?” Tim asked, realization suddenly dawning.

“No,” Jason sputtered, his lips still set tightly. “I just came to check on you and instead I find you training some girl you hadn’t told us about.”

“Woman. Marinette. You just met her. You can use her name,” Tim teased. His lips curled up into a teasing grin.

“Whatever. Wasn’t any of my business anyway. Didn’t mean to interrupt your date night,” Jason spat.

Tim snickered. He’d never seen Jason jealous without a gun getting pulled. “Honestly not sure if you’re jealous that I’m training her, or that Wonder Woman asked me to do it.” He grinned smugly at Jason, who couldn’t answer that conundrum either. “Personally, I’d be more concerned with how well she and Kon get along. He took one look at her and adopted her as his little sister. That’s just trouble waiting to happen. I'm absolutely positive there’s going to be an explosion at Lex Corp at some point soon and for once, I’m not going to be involved. I really hope they think to give me a good alibi when they do it,” he mused.

His eyes softened just slightly as he watched his brother take in that information. “The double dates were me and Kon, Cassie and Marinette's best friend, who moved to Metropolis with her, Adrien. That’s the blonde you see over there grinning like a goofy kid at Cassie.” Jason looked up as Mari and Kon came back in trailed by a blonde and Cassie.

He leaned closer to Jason and lowered his voice. “Marinette is single and HATES being a fifth wheel. And you know,” he stroked his chin dramatically, as if in thought, “I do think she needs someone looking out for her. Adrien and I are busy a lot and all her other friends are still back in Paris. It would be really nice if she had someone else she could rely on. Diana would appreciate it too, I’m sure,” he added on, knowingly.

He suddenly stepped away from Jason with a devious look Jason didn't trust. “Okay now that Jason's here, I think it’s a good time to take a break and get some food. I really want someone to take a look at Mari’s ankle though.” Kon immediately reached to tap Marinette, but Tim interceded. “Someone with a bit of medical training.” Kon’s head snapped to Tim, eyeing him suspiciously.

Cassie rolled her eyes and took a step toward Mari. “I have a little bit. I can…”

“That’s okay,” Tim cut in. “Jason has extensive training from the League.”

Kon narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Oh? Justice or Assassins?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Gotta know how someone works to know how to hurt them the worst.”

“Helps when saving them and checking ankles, too,” Tim cut in. “Good guy now.”

“Well…” Kon started. Jason glared at him but didn’t say anything.

Tim suddenly laid a hand on his stomach. “I think I might have missed lunch… again,” he noted sheepishly.

“Oh! I can order dinner,” Cassie volunteered. “Come on, Adrien.” She pulled him toward the other room.

“Perfect! Jason, you'll join us for dinner, right?” Tim asked nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just told Jason Marinette hated being a fifth wheel and was now offering Jason a way to end that. To top it off, he wasn’t even looking at Jason. He’d already started walking out after Cassie and Adrien with Kon, like Jason was just going to go with it. Like he wasn’t being manipulated into it. “And Marinette? Don’t joke about death around Jason or he'll never stop talking about that one time he died.”

This time Jason’s jaw dropped as his head snapped to Tim. He huffed and looked away when Marinette settled on the counter next to him. “No respect for the undead,” he quipped just loud enough for Marinette to hear him. He smirked over at her when she huffed out a laugh.

“Only once?” Adrien teased. “Amateur hour. Come on, Cassie, I’m feeling Indian tonight.”

“Uh oh,” Cassie chuckled, giving Jason a devious smirk. “You’ve wounded his pride.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at them, but his lips quirked up at the sides when Marinette laughed hard enough she had to grab onto his arm to keep from falling over. “It’s not the quantity. It’s the quality that matters.” He winked at her and settled onto a chair in front of her, gently moving her ankle around, testing for sensitivity.

Marinette giggled and nodded, but quickly winced as he moved it just so. She flashed him a strained, reassuring smile. “I’ve always found that to be true.”

Jason’s lips quirked up into a lopsided smile and continued to move her ankle around slowly. “Your ankle looks okay,” he finally said after a few more minutes of prodding. He gently set her foot back down. “You should keep ice on it tonight and maybe stop trying to kick Kryptonians, yeah?”

Marinette schooled the smirk that tried to pull her lips up. “You don’t understand,” Marinette pouted playfully instead. “You don’t know what he said.”

Jason raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And what did he say?”

Marinette leaned forward. “He said ‘what are you going to do? Kick me?’” She widened her eyes innocently. “What was I supposed to do?

Jason chuckled and nodded his head in understanding. “I understand. I would have done the same. Which is not a point in your favor. You have to fight smarter, not harder.”

Marinette sighed and leaned back again, resting her back against the wall behind the counter. “I don’t want to fight at all. I’m retired. I just want a normal life now.”

Jason studied her for a few moments before speaking up. “So why…” he motioned around them.

Marinette looked around the room while she considered what to say. “It’s fun,” she finally settled on. “And it’s a good stress reliever. And… pride?” Her voice lifted at the end like she wasn’t certain of her answer. She squinted at nothing and pursed her lips in thought before continuing. “We fought with no training and barely scraped by. We had a lot of losses before our ultimate win. Now, I want to know, if I had to fight again for some reason, and I’m sure there will be one at some point, that I will know how.”

Jason offered an understanding smile. “I got that. But maybe don’t practice against a Kryptonian next time.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but a smile found it’s way back onto her lips. “And give him the satisfaction? Never.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. Obstinate. It was a quality he could respect. “Well, as your doctor…”

Marinette quirked her head to the side as if in thought. “Are you?” When Jason’s only response was a confused look, she continued. “A doctor, that is,” she elaborated. “Are you a doctor?”

“No,” Jason scoffed. “I really don’t have time.”

“But you could be?” Marinette pushed. “If you wanted?”

Jason bobbed his head to the side. “Yeah, I could be, I guess. But being a vigilante is sexier.” He winked at her.

Marinette hummed in thought and smirked up at him. “I don’t know. I’ve heard of people playing doctor, but never playing vigilante.”

“True,” Jason conceded. “But you don’t get to punch as many people as a doctor. It’s frowned upon.”

“Ahh, yes. That is a perk,” Marinette nodded. She looked back up at him with a smirk that turned into a squawk when he picked her up bridal style. “What are you doing?” she squeaked.

Jason snickered at her. “As your doctor,” he ignored Marinette’s scoff, “I'm not ready to let you walk away quite yet.”

Marinette opened her mouth, but Kon broke in before she could say anything. “Are you guys coming? Food will be here in just a few minutes.” He cheeriness in his voice was clearly fake, but the venom in his glare was not.

Marinette giggled but Jason rolled his eyes. “What does it look like? And I know you saw us coming,” he said pointedly.

Kon shrugged. “Just wanted to see if you needed any help getting to the living room,” he answered innocently. He took Marinette from Jason and continued walking out the door toward the living room.

“That’s Possessive Dick for ‘she’s my friend not yours’,” Jason translated to Marinette.

“Ah, so you do speak it,” Kon grinned, keeping his pointed gaze set on Jason. “Thought you might.” Jason glared at him but followed after with a quiet growl he knew Kon could hear.

Story continued in Bad Day in Apartment 5A

@maribat-calendar-events @jasonette-july-event

#maribat #jasonette #jasonette july #jasonette july 2022 #platonic marikon #prompt - pride

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aromanticbuck · 2 years

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Nate and Brandon, the mob boss and the trigger man

After no body was found and there was no real proof of his involvement in the events of the night of the accident besides the statements from Matt and the Searles family, Brandon was presumed missing. If they were lucky, between the head injury and blood loss, he'd stumbled into the river and drowned. That wasn't the case, not by a long shot, but he let them believe it. Instead, he got out, far away from the city that he'd called home his entire life, far away from the people who had taken everything from him, far away from the revenge he couldn't even hatch correctly. Brandon, last name irrelevant and a part of the past he was trying to forget, found himself in Chicago, a city big enough that he could blend into the crowd and no one would spare him a second glance.

No one, at least, except for some wannabe mob boss, someone with daddy's money and title and not much else. But they could use each other. Nate needed a trigger man, and Brandon needed a life that didn't involve corporate fat cats pulling the strings.

Except what was supposed to be a temporary arrangement turned into something more permanent. As Nate’s new family grew and changed, only one person was a constant presence - and he had to be. When Brandon stuck around for more than just the first few months, he got... a promotion, of sorts. He wasn’t just there to be and imposing force against threats and challengers anymore. He was there to protect, and to be the threats he’d been dealing with.

They worked well together, a well oiled machine, a perfect partnership. One to aim the gun, and the other to pull the trigger.

#mob doctor #submerged #submerged 2016 #nate devlin #brandon submerged2016 #alex does moodboards #i just think they're neat #their names are incredibly difficult to make a ship name out of tho #@ submerged why couldn't you give brandon a last name #anyway cpd stopped giving me moustead so i had to find alternatives #so i found two unhinged criminals and picked them #<3 #blood cw #guns cw #death mention

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zorilleerrant · 11 months

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okay so. Tim Drake is definitely not 17 anymore, because the comics do make a point of him being able to sign contracts and stuff (he bought a houseboat), so he definitely has to be over 18. but it's also not super supportable to say he's in his early 20's, because there's nothing about him legally drinking (the only thing we'd probably get that would specify that). what there has been is a recent suggestion (rebirth era, anyway) that he tried to go to college and it wasn't for him. all implications in that storyline suggest that he's at the normal age to go to college, though, so most likely he's 18 or 19.

like, yeah, he's not aging as fast as Damian, but like. Damian they've been aging at practically a year per year which is ridiculous. my goodness. he's not Timmy or Constantine or something let the baby remain a baby! their ages are not pinned to each other in that way. comics work by weird logics and relative ages can change! I mean look at Katana for a wildly egregious example!

Babs was introduced as an adult around Bruce's age, but since then she's been gradually aged down until she's Dick's same year in school. possibly younger, because she occasionally makes teenager-ish comments about whether she's old enough to be Batwoman yet and things like that. Starfire was originally supposed to be Dick's age or slightly older, but then she was on Damian's Teen Titans team, making her at oldest nineteen, and probably younger given that she let a baby be in charge of her. Dick's original love interest from the very beginning of Nightwing got a cameo where she seems to have aged in real time while Dick most certainly did not. Carrie got reintroduced as an adult, too, despite the fact that the character she's closest in age to should honestly be Terry.

Terry himself has aged weirdly, too - he's in his mid-twenties in current continuity, but at that age Bruce was stated to be "so old it's almost impossible he's alive" which puts him in his 120's at least. and Static Beyond states that Virgil is 35 with a Terry who's either still in high school or just out of high school - except that this puts Batman Beyond at only twenty years after BtAS (the Static Shock continuity era), wherein Dick had only just stopped being Robin. and Bruce was definitely not in his 90's then. plus in the show continuity Tim takes Jason's place, but in the current comics Jason definitely canonically exists (although it's unclear what he's up to).

Tim is in his 30's with a Terry who's barely started college as of the Joker Junior movie, but Dick has a college aged biological daughter as of only a few years later. one whom he had with his wife of several years and raised from babyhood, something he definitely hasn't started doing in mainline, where he's still stuck on Babs and Kory, and so he's at least six years away from having her. so Dick is pushing 60 while Tim is only 40, maybe 45 - except that Tim is introduced as a preteen or teen when Dick has just barely reached adulthood, Tim being maybe 2 years younger than Jason and therefore maybe 8 years younger than Dick, not 20. Damian also looks like he's in his 20's, maybe 30's, but that could be chalked up to the Lazarus Pits, so we'll let that one slide.

only Dick has specifically stated "I'm about the same age Bruce was when he had Damian" which makes the difference in Dick and Bruce's age the same as Damian's age, which I think was 14 at the time. so if Virg is 16 when Dick is 19 just after BtAS, then Bruce should be 33. which means a 35 yo Virg should match a 52 yo Bruce, who's well young enough to still be alive. which would match the fact that Virg and Tim are supposed to be the same age, but then how did Dick end up with a college aged daughter? not to mention the fact that this is about a decade later than Mattie being 8 or so, but he only seems to have aged a few years, and he's 12? 20 years also doesn't seem quite enough for Terry's parents to start dating, plan a family, and then have a 16 yo at the opening of Batman Beyond, given that Warren is only in middle school in main continuity. even 30 is pushing it, and that would require an older Batman than the one early Static seems to know. plus Joker and Harley are still in their honeymoon period in Static, and that's been retconned to be very short indeed, so we really have to pin it to Batman in his first few years of crusading.

meanwhile Jason's presence at the Flying Graysons' final show puts him at nine or ten with a Dick who's at most twelve (depending on what the continuity is this week) and means he's only a few years younger than Dick - except Jason was also twelve as Dick turned eighteen and left home for the first time, and so should be a few years younger than that. and Tim being able to remember that show in any detail really puts him no younger than five, which would fit okay with Dick being twelve but not so much eight the way that's sometimes stated in narrative parallel with Bruce's story. then again, Jason's same age childhood friends are in their thirties as of current. of course, Dick being allowed to perform puts him more likely at fifteen or sixteen, but that's definitely contradictory of comics (but not movie) canon. Bruce is also supposed to train with Talia several years before Jason ends up in her care, and yet he gets depicted with a Damian who's still a babe in arms.

Damian himself is friends with Connor in such a way that they would have to be very close in age or at least one of them would find their conversation deeply inappropriate and uncomfortable - except Connor is also really close in age to Tim. and Jason. and possibly Dick as well? and Rose is his same age, too, except she's older than Jericho and he was already the same age or slightly older than Dick. but then she's also Steph and Cass's age, and they're definitely older than Damian by a few years. and then we have The Clone who by all rights should be a few years younger than Damian, since Talia created him as a backup, except he seems to be if anything a few years older than Damian.

then we have of course Thomas and Martha, who are depicted to be roughly the same age as each other, although that isn't true in every continuity. their deaths are repeatedly stated to be tragically young, lives cut drastically short, except that kind of media coverage doesn't typically show up for people even in their thirties. generationally wealthy twenty-somethings could, of course, have an eight to ten year old child, if they were married extremely young, but nothing in the story suggests that they had a particularly early wedding. there's also the fact that Thomas is said to be a noted and respected doctor with his own practice at the time of his death, which puts him significantly older to have finished med school, residency, and the first few years of establishing his own business even with his connections. and if he's gone to med school as a kid, it definitely seems like something that would come up.

we also have the fact that Steph is supposed to be older than Tim, and dating Kyle who is narratively positioned to be the same age as her. Kyle is a senior when Maps is a freshman, and Maps is a freshman when Damian is a freshman. so Steph is no more than five years older than Damian, which means Tim is even closer in age to him, which is at odds with the original introduction of Damian as a nine year old to a Tim who was almost eighteen already, or at least who Dick thought was almost eighteen at the time, although he was going through some shit when he had that attitude. so in conclusion ages make no sense and you just headcanon whatever you feel in your heart. Tim is nineteen.

#look i said something #don't take this too seriously I'm not actually looking at sources I'm just remembering things #I know not all of these canons are meant to mesh but then why do they keep referencing each other as if they're one thing

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ladylilithprime · 1 year

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All Is Fair In Love And Paintball

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural:

Pairing: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Proto-Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: General

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Protective Dean Winchester, Paintball

Summary: Contrary to Sam's assumption that he wouldn't be seeing the Novak brothers at all often, if he even saw them again at all, Palo Alto has seen a surprising uptick in visits from the hunter twins. Dean is suspicious, and determined to conduct his own testing of their mettle if they think they can just come courting his baby brother.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 8: Callous (This was NOT easy to write fluff for!)

Read on AO3

SIX MONTHS. IT had been six months since the Novak brothers had first shown up in Palo Alto like a couple of bad pennies on the non-existent case of Tyson Brady's death and stayed for a week to put not only Brady to rest but also any attendant rumors vomited up by his overly religious harpy of a mother. They had come back two months later, contrary to what Sammy had believed about the likelihood of their return at all, because one of the twins had caught the flu and the other was symptomatic, and since they had known that Sam had a cure that was proven effective so long as you weren't allergic to any of the ingredients it just made sense for them to stop by in hopes of cutting down their recovery time. They had only stayed overnight that time, needing to get back on the road to a case further south in New Mexico that sounded like a chupacabra, but since then John Castiel and James Constantine Novak had been showing up more and more frequently with flimsier and flimsier excuses.

Dean Winchester was not impressed.

Unfortunately, Dean Smith could only do so much to head off potential heartbreakers when it came to Sam Wesson, at least without drawing even more irritating conclusions from the locals that he and Sam were more than just friends and neighbors. While a perfectly valid tactic for keeping away inconvenient or unwanted attention back in the days when he and Sam had been the migrant hunters hauled all around the country by their father, such a tactic had awkward long-term consequences when you actually had a couple of permanent addresses and didn't plan on skipping town at the end of the month. If Dean had ever planned on finding a local romance of his own, well, he'd rather thoroughly shot himself in the foot between the people who thought he was dating his brother and the people who thought he was dating his brother's familiar. Which, no on both counts, if for different reasons. Even without that, having a set address - being settled - carried some awkward connotations of being ready and willing to settle down, and that wasn't something Dean felt he could do anytime soon even if he was no longer taking off on the road for weeks to months at a time with only furtive phone calls in between to let Sam know that he was still alive.

That was probably the thing that bothered Dean the most about the Novak brothers, when you got right down to it. They were hunters, migrant ones at that, just like he and Sammy had been once upon a time, and they showed no signs of actually wanting to stop and get out of the life... but there they were, coming around and making excuses to chat up Dean's little brother, bringing him lunch or breakfast, and his brother remained almost painfully if somewhat endearingly oblivious to the fact that two annoyingly attractive young men clearly had the hots for him. It was both exasperating and hilarious, and Dean was pretty sure he wasn't going to know how to react when the shit inevitably met the slowly spinning fan blades.

But even he couldn't have predicted this.

"You what?"

"Gave my key to Jimmy and Cas so they could take Bones back to the house," Sam repeated impatiently, like he hadn't just admitted to handing over his house key and his familiar into the care of a couple of drifter hunters. "She needed to get home and I couldn't leave the store and you were still on shift for another two hours, so--"

"So you gave the key to your house to a couple of hunters you barely know to go off alone with your familiar?" Dean demanded, silently willing for Sam to grasp just why what he was saying was such a problem. From the bewildered look on his brother's face, it wasn't getting through.

"It's Jimmy and Cas," Sam said after a moment, as if that was supposed to explain everything. Sadly, when it came to Sam, it did. "And it's not like I'm going to just tell them to keep the key and move themselves into my spare room or anything!"

"It's exactly like that, because otherwise you wouldn't be asking me to make a copy of the key I have to your place to put back on your keyring instead of just getting your key back from them when you get home," Dean groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Assuming they're even still there and haven't incapacitated Bones to keep her from warning you--"

"That they're currently stripped down to their shorts and are giving her a bath in the master bathroom?" Sam interrupted with a raised eyebrow. He tapped his temple lightly. "Calm the catastrophizing, Dean, Bones is keeping me vividly updated, don't worry."

"It's my job to worry," Dean grumbled. He sighed. "Fine, I'll make the key copy on one condition."

"And that is?" Sam asked, finally showing what Dean thought was an appropriate level of wariness for the situation.

"Paintball, Saturday," Dean answered. "You and me, versus the Novaks. We'll get Andy to finesse our way onto the range, you know he's been wanting to get his own crack at interrogating those two after they showed up while you were having your bi-monthly 'not an official coven' meeting."

"It's not--" Sam started, then sighed as he apparently realized that arguing about Andy Gallagher's intentions when his primary power was literally a mind whammy he used to make people tell the truth was not the road he wanted to go down again this time. "Saturday is still four days away, Dean. What if a hunt comes up between now and then, huh?"

"Then you get your key back from them and don't hand it out again until paintballing happens," Dean said, arms folded across his chest. "You wanna start handing out easy access to your home to a couple of rootless drifters like that, you'll just have to make it clear that they gotta pass the test first."

"Yeah, not doing that," Sam shook his head. "You don't tell someone you're testing them if you want an honest response from it."

Well, at least Sam wasn't slipping that much.

Andy came through beautifully with securing the paintball course for the day, something about a favor owed that was being cashed in and "the chance to see you two in action for once" that Dean wasn't sure how to feel about. Andy was one of the "rescue projects" who'd known him as a hunter first and had gotten a lot of secrets out of Dean before he realized mind-whammying his new teacher's brother was probably a bad idea. Dean didn't hold it against the kid - much - but it was just as well they didn't hang out that often.

The Novaks looked a little uneasy as they geared up, though from what Dean could tell it wasn't any sort of concern over their own safety. To Dean's amusement, while they seemed to be regarding Dean himself as a potential formidable (if perhaps rusty) opponent, they seemed to be discounting Sam as a threat, especially after Dean made the ruling of "no powers" and Bones slunk off to sit with Andy.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" one of them - Dean thought it might be Jimmy - asked Sam hesitantly.

"Paintballs hurt a lot less to get hit with than actual bullets," was Sam's nonchalant response, making Dean snort in agreement. The answer did not appear to reassure the twins if the look they exchanged was anything to go by, but they gamely headed into the course to take their positions. Sam and Dean, following behind them, exchanged a sly smirk and a covert fist-bump, much to Dean's pleasure. He could already feel his blood starting to sing with the promise of a hunt with his brother at his side, and from the anticipation in Sam's eyes he wasn't the only one looking forward to this.

The next fist-bumps they exchanged were not so covert, looking over the tally of their respective "kills" displayed in full brilliant color splotches all over the rather rumpled and dismayed Novak twins. The Winchesters, in contrast, had barely two marks between them, each one a shot taken for the other. So much for being rusty.

"So," Sam said as he turned a slightly sheepish smile on the still stunned active hunters who had just been thoroughly trounced by a retiree and a pacifist witch, "I guess now would be as good a time as any to admit that our surnames aren't actually Smith and Wesson."

#fluffyfebruary2023 #supernatural fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #jimmy novak #castiel #bones the dog #andy gallagher #paintball #sastimmy

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puppetsoftomorrow · 3 years

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avalance wedding vows

@puppetavasharpe challenged me to write the avalance wedding vows, so i wrote everything but the vows! (nah jokes there are some vows in here i just got Very carried away lmao). i'll clean up and post to ao3 when i find the time. enjoy!!

They both agreed they’d spent too much time apart in the weeks before their wedding to spend the night before it apart, and Sara was grateful, the nervous hammering of her heart calmed by Ava’s hand in hers, as they lay in the semi-darkness, neither ready to sleep quite yet.

“We're getting married tomorrow.” Ava said softly into the darkness.

“Yeah.” Sara said, the sound floating in the air. “Do we have to do it front of everyone? Can't we elope? Because we have a time machine, we don’t need to be married by an Elvis impersonator in Vegas, I can take us to get married by the real Elvis -”

“You're nervous.” Ava said - it wasn't a question, more of a slightly surprised statement, and Sara made an indignant noise.

“No, Sara Lance does not get nervous -”

Ava squeezed her hand, and Sara stopped the act.

“Fucking terrified. You?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Ava said softly. “But - the idea that you’ll be there - that helps. Is that weird?”

“No.” Sara said, as she moved further into her fiancée's side. “No, I think that helps me too.”

“Have you got everything ready? Are your vows written?” Ava asked, and it was Sara’s turn to squeeze her hand, trying to calm the part of Ava that needed their wedding day to run like a train station under communist rule.

“Yeah, all written.” She said, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. She had some pointers on a piece of paper in the pocket of her dress, and her plan of seeing where the day took her for the rest of it would almost certainly work. “What about you?”

“All done.” Ava said, her tone almost strangled, and Sara turned, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at her.

“Why do you look so guilty?” Sara asked, slightly confused, and her face broke into a grin when Ava started to flush pink.

“I wrote them - um – maybe about a year ago.”

“What? But I hadn't proposed -”

“I know.” Ava said, a hand coming up to cover her cheek. “It wasn’t - um - after anything in particular, you’d just come back from Star City and it sort of hit me, then, that this is what I wanted. For the rest of my life. So, I wrote them.”

“But you waited all this time -”

“Because I wanted you to propose to me.” Ava said, her voice soft, and she turned away, clearly embarrassed, but Sara’s hand caught her, to bring their eyes back together. “I just - I wanted to be proposed to. I know that’s sappy. And I wanted you to know, on your own, that you were completely ready.”

“I’m ready.” Sara said softly, as she ran her thumb along Ava's cheekbone. “That's adorable. You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.” Ava muttered, still bright red, and Sara laughed.

“Aw, Aves, is that any way to treat your future wife?”

“Go to sleep.” Ava said, grinning now, and she gently pushed Sara back down. Sara took full advantage of the new position and moved close, pressing her face against Ava’s shoulder and snaking her arms around her waist.

“I'm excited to hear them. I can't wait to marry you.”

“I can't wait either.” Ava said, voice a near whisper. “And - if it gets too much tomorrow- we can go find Elvis and he can marry us.”

“Thank you.” Sara said as she yawned, finally ready to sleep. “Night, baby. Love you.”

“Goodnight, my love.” Sara heard, softly spoken, as she drifted off to sleep.

///

Best laid plans - and Ava's plans were always the best - seemed a truism in that moment. Guests had been arriving in a constant stream, Mick making trips in the jump ship to pick everyone up, grumbling that he wasn't a taxi service, and Sara had only just finished getting ready - slipping into her white jumpsuit and curling her hair, as Nate sat on the bed and gushed about how beautiful love was, Behrad fast asleep next to him.

Constantine's mansion looked wonderful, Astra having spent a week learning the spells to cover the place in streamers and balloons, only they kept appearing and disappearing randomly, which caused Sara to yelp as a party of balloons suddenly appeared next to her.

She’d lost her shoes. These shoes were nothing special, but Sara was determined to find them, because they were her tallest pair, and she wasn't having Ava craning her neck to kiss her in every one of their wedding photos. People might think she was short or something.

Sara rounded into the ballroom, and saw something she was definitely not meant to see.

“Ava?” She said, and Ava turned, squeaked, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Sara! What are you doing! Nate said he’d keep you in the bedroom until -”

“I’m just - what are you doing?”

“It's bad luck to see each other.” Ava said, eyes still tight shut, and Sara laughed, a slightly shaky sound.

“Well, baby, I’ve seen you now.” She looked her up and down, slightly in awe. Ava's dress was simple, ivory satin with a bardot neckline, her hair curled over one shoulder, elegant and beautiful. There was a quiver in Sara’s voice when she spoke again. “You're so beautiful. How did I ever get this lucky?”

“Stop it, you shouldn’t even be seeing me.” Ava said, her voice also thick with emotion, and Sara took three steps forward across the ballroom, taking Ava’s hands in her own.

“You can look, baby.” Sara said softly, and Ava’s eyes opened, widening when she took in what Sara was wearing. When their eyes connected again, there were tears on her lashes.

“You look so pretty. Are those trousers?”

Sara laughed and nodded, trying to keep her own tears at bay. “Yeah, um, the last wedding I went to was kind of invaded by Nazi superheroes, so I thought this would work for fighting.”

“You’re so practical. I'm not going to ask about the Nazis.” Ava sniffed, and Sara reached out to hold her hands.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Sara said softly.

“You'll be there, won’t you? At the end, waiting for me?” Ava asked, almost shyly, and Sara nodded. All the Legends, even Spooner, had offered to walk her down the aisle when it had come out that Ava had no family to do it for her, but Ava had decided to walk alone.

Her only caveat - that Sara go first, so she could see who she was walking towards.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll be there.” Sara said, and turned slightly at Behrad’s shout of “I’ve found them!”

“That's my cue.” Sara said, trying to shake the tears from her eyes, and Ava scrunched her brow.

“Found what?”

“I'll tell you afterwards baby. I'll see you later.”

“I wouldn't miss it.” Ava said softly, and Sara beamed at her, before turning to run back the other way, before anyone saw that they’d seen each other.

///

Sara stood in the eaves, looking out to the flower filled garden, guests seated and talking, enjoying the sun and the chance to see old friends.

If her nerves weren’t bad before -

“You ready, kid?”

The gruff voice of her dad came from just behind her, and Sara nodded, trying to hide her sweating palms.

“Yeah, I’m ready. I just -” She started, then her voice dropped slightly. “I wish Laurel was here. I’d never imagined that I'd be doing this without her.”

“She’d be so proud of you.” Quentin said softly, and Sara nodded, a wet laugh escaping her lips when she realized they were both crying.

Before Sara could reply, the familiar tune played on the violin swept over the garden, and the guests fell in a hush, and Sara accepted the handkerchief her dad offered to wipe her eyes.

Quentin held out his arm, and Sara looped hers through his, stepping out into the light.

///

It all seemed like a blur. Ava walked down the aisle, a vision in white, a nervous smile on her face, and Sara considered just booking it down the few feet of grass that separated them to hold her hand, but she stayed firm, and Ava reached her, handing her bouquet off to Mona, and Sara reached out then, threading their fingers together. Nate’s words about love and their relationship almost melted away as she stared into Ava’s eyes, and she would have missed the vows if it weren’t for Ava gently squeezing her hand.

“Sara - I -” Ava started, stopped, took a shaky breath, and Sara beamed at her, willing her on, and Ava swallowed. “I wrote this after you came to Purgatory to get me. I’d never imagined, up until that point, that anyone could ever love me enough to do something like that, bring me back from the precipice, but you did.” Ava paused, and smiled gently at her. “You’ve changed my life irrevocably, and always for the better. You’ve made me a better person, a more thoughtful person, you’ve helped me to find who I am – you've also helped me to lose both my job and my house, but we won’t dwell on that -”

Ava seemed almost surprised when the guests laughed, and Sara squeezed her hand.

“Every time I think I’ve figured you out, you do something that surprises me. I can’t imagine my life – my future - without you in it, and I want it, all of it, every crazy adventure and every not so crazy one, just – all of it, because, I know whatever it is, you’ll be there with me, and we’ll face it together.” Ava said, then took a breath. “I love you, Sara Lance. Always and forever.”

Sara stood, slightly open mouthed, and would have kissed her if that wasn’t the main event in a few minutes. “Your turn.” Ava said, soft and just for her, and Sara nodded, her heart suddenly beating a little faster. She dropped Ava’s hands, and pulled her notes out.

Another benefit of a jumpsuit – pockets.

“Well, I wrote these vows after you said we couldn’t elope and get married by Elvis -” Laughter rippled through the assembled crowd, and Sara felt her shoulders relax. “Ava - I don’t know what good I did in this life to deserve you. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve died, and I’ve lost my way so many times and I never thought I could find my way back, but with you – I know I can always find my way home.”

Ava smiled at her, tears on her cheeks, and Sara moved to hold her hand again.

“I love you. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know it’ll be okay, because you’ll be there with me. I’ll be here, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Ava nodded, beaming through her tears, and Nate pronounced them married, and Sara could finally kiss her, and the light came in, warm and true.

///

“If I’d known that Behrad was such a huge Celine Dion fan, I wouldn't have let him be the DJ.” Sara said, pressing herself closer to Ava to be heard over the music that was sounding through the ballroom. Ava laughed, the sound moving through her, and Sara held her wife a little tighter as they slow danced to Because You Loved Me. “You’d think a guy from 2042 would have better music taste.”

“This wouldn't be such a bad first dance.” Ava hummed, swaying gently. They'd tried to forgo as much formality as they could - speeches and a first dance included - but Sara had danced with her dad, and Ava had danced with him to in a move that made Sara cry for the tenth time that day.

“It’s sappy as hell.” Sara said, and Ava laughed again.

“You are sappy, you’ve cried so many times today.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten soft.” Sara said, eyebrows knitting together, until Ava pressed a kiss there.

“That’s not a bad thing.” Ava hummed, and they stood there, swaying gently. “Your vows were soft.”

“Yeah, and now all my family and friends know I have feelings.” Sara said with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve really ruined my reputation.”

Ava shrugged, before moving backwards to spin Sara before catching her again. “I rather like that you have feelings.” Ava said softly, once Sara was safe in her arms again, and Sara melted into it just as the last beat of the song played across the room.

The moment was ruined when Behrad yelled, and Bootylicious started to play across the radio. Sara burst out laughing to see Zari had taken up position next to the speakers.

“Actually, I change my mind, this is our first dance.” Ava said, and Sara just laughed as the rest of the guests started to pour onto the dancefloor.

#phoebe lifeblogs #legends of tomorrow #avalance #okay for the tags #behrad is a celine dion fan #and z2 loves destiny's child #i dont make the rules

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locktobre · 3 years

Text

Here’s a breakdown of when the villains/antagonists meet the heroine (as in, the Barbie character) in Barbie movies, just for fun (not for fun, I have a very specific point to make).

They meet for the first time in the movie:

Nutcracker (Mouse King and Clara)

Swan Lake (Rothbart and Odette)

Fairytopia (Laverna and Elina)

Magic of Pegasus (Wenlock and Annika)

12 Dancing Princesses (Duchess Rowena and Genevieve)

Magic of the Rainbow (Sunburst and Elina)

Island Princess (Queen Ariana and Ro)

Mariposa (Henna and Mariposa)

Diamond Castle (Lydia and Liana)

Thumbelina (Myron and Thumbelina(?))

Three Musketeers (Philippe and Corinne)

Mermaid Tale (Eris and Merliah)

Fashion Fairytale (Jacqueline and Barbie)

Fairy Secret (Crystal and Barbie)

Princess & the Popstar (Crider and Tori)

Pink Shoes (Snow Queen and Kristyn)

Fairy Princess (Gwyllion and Mariposa)

Pony Tale (Philippe Cheynet and Barbie)

Secret Door (Malucia and Alexa)

Rock N Royals (Clive, Olivia and Erika, Sloane and Courtney)

Great Puppy Adventure (Joe, Marty and the Roberts sisters)

Spy Squad (Agent Dunbar and Barbie)

Video Game Hero (Cutie and Barbie)

Dolphin Magic (Marlo and Barbie)

Princess Adventure (Johan and Barbie)

They knew each other before the movie:

Rapunzel (Gothel and Rapunzel)

Princess and the Pauper (Preminger and Anneliese, Madame Carp and Erika)

Barbie Diaries (Raquelle and Barbie)

Mermaidia (Laverna and Elina)

Magic of the Rainbow (Laverna and Elina)

Fashion Fairytale (Raquelle and Barbie)

Fairy Secret (Raquelle and Barbie)

Mermaid Tale 2 (Eris and Merliah)

Pink Shoes (Madame Natasha and Kristyn)

Princess Power (Baron von Ravendale and Kara)

Spy Squad (Patricia and Barbie)

They would have technically met in the past, but the heroine doesn’t remember:

Princess Charm School (Dame Devin and Sophia)

Pearl Princess (Caligo and Lumina)

No real villain/antagonist:

Christmas Carol (Eden is hero antagonist)

Perfect Christmas (N/A)

Star Light Adventure (Constantine is antagonistic but not a villain)

Puppy Chase (N/A)

So you can see, the majority of villains/antagonists meet the heroine in the movie. Of the 12 that don’t, 4 are carrying over from a previous movie into a sequel (Laverna twice, Raquelle, Eris). Of the remaining 8, 3 are classmates or former classmates (Raquelle, other Raquelle, Patricia) and 1 is just doing her job (Madame Natasha). Of the remaining 4, 2 begin the movie as antagonists (Gothel and Madame Carp). So that leaves 2 who actually begin the movie in a position of trust and power and reveal their true motivations along the way: Preminger and Baron von Ravendale.

Baron von Ravendale does not have anything specific he wants to do to Kara. He wants to destroy/eliminate/whatever (I forget the wording he uses, if any) the royal family, bc he thinks the throne rightfully belongs to him. Kara’s a part of that family, so he’s against her, but it’s not about her. She’s just there. Even tho he’s peeved that she got his superpowers, once he gets his potion remade he doesn’t even care about that iirc. She’s basically irrelevant to what he actually wants to accomplish, except for her becoming a hero and fighting him.

And then there’s Preminger. Unlike the Baron, Anneliese is central to Preminger’s ultimate goal. He wants to marry her. Of course, he wants to be king--but if that was all that mattered, Genevieve was already a widow, and she proves serviceable to him once he’s decided he doesn’t need Anneliese and attempts to have her killed instead. But his first choice was Anneliese, who, and I can’t stress this enough, he’s known since she was a child. He’s been working toward this goal since she was a child. (I doubt they meant it to be taken that way, similar to the “10 years we’ve been rusting” / “bloom until his 21st year” thing in BatB implying the Beast was cursed when he was 11. Sorry that’s what you actually told me, it’s not my fault if you didn’t think about what that meant.) I don’t think they were close, but this was someone Anneliese trusted. She’s happy to see him when she thinks he’s there to rescue her. So his betrayal of her, his attempt to kill her when she’s no longer useful to him, is very, very personal and specific in a way that none of the other villains really come close to, imo.

So like, I can’t think it’s funny to see Preminger turn into a stupid meme. I can’t. Bc I can’t stop thinking about how fucked up it was that he did that to Anneliese. I can’t stop thinking about ppl claiming to love PatP, to love Anneliese, and then... just laughing at her villain like he isn’t a complete and utter monster who betrayed her trust, her mother’s trust, the whole kingdom’s trust and ALMOST got away with it all. He was going to marry Genevieve like he didn’t bankrupt her in the first place, like he didn’t just murder her daughter, and ppl think that’s somehow funny? It isn’t. No amount of camp can make Preminger funny to me. I know I take things too seriously, but how can you look at everything he does and just excuse it bc he sings a half-decent song? What is WRONG with you?

#mel irl #barbie babbles #hate preminger hours #long post #ok maybe this will get it all out of my system idk #anyone who tries to say i'm taking this too seriously lighten up etc will be blocked #i literally SAID as much but that also doesn't mean i'm wrong lmao. he's a creep and you're a freak for liking him. end of discussion.

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nextinline-if · 2 years

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Can we have a cute birb like nightingale? Mc would sing with them 😌 it would be also hilarious if the pet would act protective towards mc and shoo away ROs lmao

Oh, on that note, can we have reactions of crushing ROs (and Felix hahaha) stumbling upon singing MC?

Sure - so, we've got a lion, a goose, and a bird (nightingale + maybe 2 other options?? I feel like an owl could be fun is that a bird idk). this is really shaping up to be a zoo. I do not recommend telling Queen Vivian.

Reactions below 🥺 oh but I didn’t incorporate the bird singing, I’m so sorry 🫠

Constantine's Reaction

Constantine follows the garden until he reaches the quiet melody that seems to be carried through the wind. Such a beautiful sound that he's forgotten that he was walking with James, who followed him to the source. His blue gaze lands on you. And right then, right there, he knows. He knows you’ve stolen his heart.

*loud coughing* Constantine jolts as he remembers his best friend. he glances over at your twin, who has his brow raised. "You just going to stare at them or...?" Constantine quickly begins walking away from you, his face pink, with James on his heels. When he lays down that night, your voice haunts his heart.

Margaret's Reaction

Margaret was wandering through the woods for…reasons. But she got off track when she heard a voice, a voice that sent a lovely shiver down her spine. The normally graceful lady of the shadows almost tripped on a branch when she saw you sitting at the edge of a cliff, singing a haunting song.

You mesmerized her in so many ways. Part of her wanted to sit next to you. See if she could comfort the pain in your voice. But she knew you wouldn’t have come out here if you wanted company. Still, she watched. And wondered who had caused you so much pain. Wondered while her fingers ran across her daggers. She stayed all night to watch over you before returning to her errand.

F’s Reaction

F thought everyone had left the library for the night, that why they returned to get some work done in peace. But another peace awaited them. As soon as they heard your voice, they recognized it and a shiver of pleasure ran through them. You always did love to sing, they thought to themselves.

They quietly followed the direction of your voice. Peeking around a bookshelf, there you were lost in your song while browsing books in the poetry section. They smiled at the way the moon lit your face through the library’s window. They closed their eyes to listen, eventually dragging their self to bed with your melody in mind, lulling them into a dreamless, but peaceful slumber.

Felix’s Reaction

Felix liked to cook when everyone was asleep. He knows he not supposed to go in the castle kitchen but he didn’t anyway. No one ever caught him anyway - he always left it spotless. But tonight, he found you. You were signing a song from your 16th birthday ball. A song you sang that night with the King. He gazed at you, barely preventing himself from wrapping his arms you.

He could see that you were making Delian Sweets. He remembers those were in abundance on your birthday. Your sad song and yearning to latch onto a piece of your father tugged at his heart. For all his teasing, this man would walk through fire to please you. And so, he stepped up to the counter next to you and began garnishing the sweets with honey. You only paused for a moment before you continued singing and Felix smiled, knowing you trusted him as much as he trusts you.

#imagine mc's bird pecking at their face like #get away from my human #or the lion....even Constantine would be like #nah I'm out #ro’s reactions #nextinlineif #interactive fiction #royal romance #if wip

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fandompride101 · 3 years

Text

Saving The World

Raven's POV:

"We lost 31% of the earth's molten core, there is nothing we can do," Batman explained to Diana and Clark.

I look over to Damian, who is sitting next to me. His eyes meet mine, and I lean forward for a kiss. When our lips touched, I felt everything that I have been longing to feel for the past two years. I felt loved and no longer alone.

The flash stands up and moves over to Batman and the others. I pull apart from Damian, and we both walk over to the conversation.

"If I just make another flashpoint, we could reverse this." The flash pleads his case.

"No, that is far too dangerous." Constantine steps in. "You could just make another timeline that is ten times worse."

"I don't see any other way." The flash looks at us all. "Do any of you have a better idea?"

There was silence and all you could hear was the wind blowing past us. Soon the earth will grow cold and those who were left on it would surely die. I turn to Damian. I observed his face and I can tell he had no further plan. He looks over at me.

"What?" He whispers.

"I have too," I mumble. I stand to my feet, but Damian grabs my hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I have a plan," I say, just loud enough for the others to hear me.

"And what is it?" Constantine looks as if thinking what I was about to say wouldn't work. He could at least give me a shot.

"You're going to have to trust me." I look at each and every one of them.

Diana steps forward. "I believe in you." She put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see her face. She nodded at me and I nodded to her.

Then I stepped away into an open area.

"Raven, wait!" Damian steps in front of me. "What are you doing?"

I put my hand on his cheek and for a second he rests his head on it, then he backs away enough to look me in the eyes. "I love you."

I kissed him, holding onto his head, wanting to forever remember this moment. I don't know if this will work, but something inside of me is calling for me to do this. A voice in my head that used to say 'destroy the world is now saying 'save it.'

One thing I have learned in the Teen Titans is that no matter the sins of people, they are all worth saving. The world is worth saving. Damian is worth saving.

I break our kiss and take one last look at him. I step back and levitate to the sky, not looking away from Damian. When I got to the highest I could go, I looked around. The world was in shambles now. Torn up and destroyed by the need for power.

I took one more look down at the people that I have grown to call my family. Clark saved me from... well me, Starfire who is like a sister to me and who guided me for many years. Dick taught me to fight and hold my ground. Damian made me feel like anything was possible. I needed to save them.

I took a deep breath.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal the earth. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal those that are injured. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Bring back those we have lost. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Bring those who died, back to life. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal those who have been taken for machines. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" In the name of love!

Then my world goes dark.

******

Damian's POV:

I looked at her. I watched as she slipped from my fingers and ascended to the sky, almost as if she was ascending to Heaven. She wasn't looking at us anymore, but to the world and the damage that was done.

I didn't know what she was doing, but I could only pray that it would work. She made it seem like goodbye, but I won't let this be the end. I didn't die and be brought back for her to die.

Father steps to my side and watches the sky along with all the others. Dick is in Kori's lap, and she is stroking his hair. The moment they saw each other, Greyson had recognized her. Father places a hand on my shoulder, bring my gaze back to the sky.

There is a flash of purple, but instead of her black raven appearing around her, she is surrounded by a white one. It was almost breathtaking to watch and I even heard a few gasps from behind me, but I didn't take my eyes away from her.

Then there was a flash of white that consumed the sky.

For a moment the world would not come into focus. All around, it looked fuzzy. And then it became clear. I looked over at Starfire and Dick, and they were hugging each other. Starfire's robotic parts were at her feet and she looked as she did two years ago. Dick stood up from the ground and they hugged. It seemed like there was no linger of the effect of the Lazerous pit.

I turned around and was shocked. Robotic pieces were on the ground as the people they belonged to embraced each other in their original forms. Diana was being helped up by Clark, and Batman stood from the ground, no longer in Dark Side's uniform. Raven did it.

Raven!

I looked to the spot she last was, but she was, falling. I rushed to catch her, holding my arms out for her. She crashed on top of me. She was on my stomach. I sat up.

"Raven!" I grabbed her face and turned it towards me, but she did not move. I tested her vitals. She was weak, but she was alive.

"Raven." Kori came over and reached for Raven's arm.

"She is alive, but her pulse is weak," I say, not looking away from the girl in my lap.

Soon a crowd of people came around us. All asking different questions, like if she was okay or if she was alive. I stood up with her in my arms and turned to the crowd of people who all had worried looks. Clark tried to reach for her, but I did let her go. I was never letting her go again.

"She is alive but in need of medical attention." I turn to Father. "Father, we have to get her somewhere where she can rest." He nodded.

"Bring her to the Batcave. I will tell Alfred you are on the way." Dick came over and placed a hand on my shoulder. He put his other on her arm and checked her vitals. "She is getting stronger."

Just as he said that Raven's eyes flew open. Her amethyst eyes found mine. "Damian." Her voice was hoarse, but she smiled at me.

"Don't speak. Save your energy." I hushed her. "We will get you somewhere safe."

"Did it work?" She asked, looking around at everyone.

"According to my records our molten core is in tacts and the earth's population was restored to the number it was before Dark Side's attach." Father read off his screen. "I am not sure how you did it, but you did. Very good work, Raven." Father nodded to her.

"Zatanna?" Constantine asked.

"Constantine." Zatanna's voice called through the crowd. She stood with a portal open as other Justice League members flooded out.

Raven smiled, and then she turned to me. "I saved you twice today."

"Yes, you did."

*******

Raven's POV:

"Raven?" A voice pulls me from my rest.

"What?" I open my eyes, confused.

"You fell asleep." Damian brushes his hand on my cheek.

"I didn't mean to," I say, trying to sit up.

"No, it's okay." He smiled and helped me up. "I was just worried for a moment. Go back to sleep. The car is here and I will take you somewhere safe." He said. I noticed that I was still in his arms.

"I can walk." I am not sure if it is true or not, but I didn't want him to know that.

"I will carry you anyways." He smiled down at me. My heartfelt warm and tingly, and honestly, I felt like I could curl up into him and sleep forever.

Damian helped me into the seat of the car, putting me in the passenger seat. Then he put the seat belt around me. I gave him a look, telling him I could have done that on my own, but he ignored it.

Damian slid into the driver's seat of the car, but his father came over before he could start the engine. "Drive her right back to the cave. I will be there when I can."

"I will, Father." Damian blew off his father's words.

His father hesitated but stepped away, and Damian started the car, and then sped off. I grabbed the handle above my head, making Damian turn to me.

"Please slow down," I begged.

Damian turned to me, and when he saw that I wasn't kidding, he slowed to almost the speed limit. "Are you alright?"

"I am really light-headed." I close my eyes, trying to focus on breathing. I turned back to look at Damian who looking worried. "But I will be fine."

He holds out his hand and I take it. I close my eyes again and take deep breaths. He squeezes my hand and says, "if you puke... you will have to clean it up." He says, making me laugh.

____

Back at the Batcave

Well even though the ride wasn't too terribly long, it turned out I will be known as the first person to throw up in the Batmobile. Damian started to speed a little more when I got sick, but he only made it worse.

"I am sorry," I tell him as he helps me out. "I really am."

"It was a joke, I swear. You are fine." He scoops me up into his arms and carries me away from the car.

"I'm sorry," I say as he lays me down on a bed.

"Please stop saying that. It is fine. I will clean it up, but you have to get better. Do what they tell you so you get better. Stop worrying. " He paused and looked at me. "Please."

I smile at him and reach for his face. When I touch his cheek, he smiles and leans into my touch. All of a sudden my bed becomes occupied by another guest. I sit up a bit to see Titus resting at my feet.

"Titus will stay with you and make sure you don't get out of bed." Damian nodded as if making the plan up as he went.

I didn't argue, and then Damian left to go clean up. I fell asleep with Titus' head, resting on my legs.

Damian

"What happened?" Batman came in, immediately sitting down at his computer.

I was cleaning up the Batmobile, from the earlier mess that I had made. I should not have sped so much. Then maybe she would not have gotten sick. "I was speeding to get back here, and Raven became ill," I explained.

My father turned around to look at me. "Damian, you should not have sped. She probably is tired and easily susceptible to motion sickness."

"Father, I thought it best we got here as soon as possible, but I admit it was a mistake." I bowed my head.

"So is she the one you were talking about?" He looked at me.

I stayed quiet, unsure of what he was talking about.

"When you said 'save them, save 'her' you meant Rachel Roth?" Father said, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"Father now is not the time or place to be discussing this." I pick up the rag I was using to clean the car and put them in a garbage bag I was using. I stood up and he turned back to his bat computer.

"Her vitals are returning, but she will need rest. I fear this has taken a great deal of energy." Father says as I go over to the panel on the wall and check the camera in her room. She is sleeping, but so is Titus. So much for a guard dog.

"We must give her time." I nod and turn to Father.

*****

Raven's POV:

I woke up in the complete dark. I wasn't sure of the time, and when I pulled out my phone it was dead. Titus stirred and started towards the door. I opened it for him and followed him out. I hadn't noticed at first, but there was a sleeping body on the ground.

I knelt to his side and put a hand on his shoulder to wake him.

"Damian," I whispered.

His eyes shot open and he scanned the room. He stood up so fast that I was almost knocked over in surprise. He turned his head back and forth and soon his eyes landed on me with worry.

"What's wrong? What happened." He grabbed my arms and looked around.

"Damian." I smiled. He was so worried that it was hilarious to watch. I grabbed his arm and made him look at me. "Damian, I am fine."

He looked me over and then sighed.

"What's going on, why are you sleeping outside the door?" I reached up and put a hand to his face, gently.

"Nothing. I was just making sure you were alright." He looked at me with those emerald eyes. "Why are you up, you should be resting?"

"I wanted to get something to eat."

"Well then let us go upstairs and get you some food. What is it that you are hungry for?" He offered me his arm to take.

I took it and looked up at him. "Cereal."

"Cereal? It's almost midnight." He checked his watch and showed it to me.

"I just want cereal." I shrugged.

He sighed with a smile on his face. "Fine." He leads me up the stairs and to the kitchen area.

I sat down at the table while Damian went over to the cupboard and grabbed all the cereal brands they had. He set them down and grabbed the bowls and spoons and a gallon of milk. He set them on the table and I grabbed what I wanted. He did the same.

I took a spoon full of cereal and scooped it into my mouth and smiled at Damian.

"Cute." He said, nodding at me, and then he took a bite of his cereal.

We ate our cereal in silence, only hearing the noises of ourselves chewing. I got seconds on my bowl, while Damian stopped after one. He watched me eat for a few minutes before his gaze started to annoy me.

"I am sorry that I eat cereal in a different way." I turned to him. "I am hungry."

He chuckles and leans back into his chair. "I don't think you eat strangely, but I think it is funny to see you stuff your face." He smiles at me.

"Excuse me for using all my energy to save the world." I joke.

"You are right, you deserve to eat as much cereal as you would like." Damian bowed his head in acceptance, but when his head turned up he had an evil look in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing." He leaned back, not losing eye contact.

"Damian, you have that look in your eye." I point at him.

"What look?" He plays innocent.

"That mischievous look that tells me you have a plan that is not going to end well." I lean back to get a better look at him.

"I have no look." He teases.

"Yes, you do," I argue.

"No..." He was about to argue when we were interrupted.

"What are you fighting over?" Bruce Wayne walked into the room. I have never seen Batman out of his bat costume and it was shocking to see him standing before us.

"Father, we are sorry if we woke you." Damian stood and took our dishes to the sink.

"I was already awake." He sat down at the table. He turned to me and asked, "How do you feel?"

"I am better." I gave a weak smile.

"That is good." He nodded. "Now what was this about a 'look'?"

Damian sat in the chair beside me. I looked at him to see if he would explain it to his father or not. When it seemed like he wasn't going to answer I turned back to Batman and explained.

"I believe your son has a look that he gives when he has a plan that he knows you won't like," I explain.

"Oh, that look." Batman nods.

I turn to Damian with a triumphant look. "See, even your father knows of this look."

Damian turned back to me with a smile. "Fine, you win." He put his hands up in surrender.

"How is everyone, Batman?" I turned to the man sitting across from us.

"Everyone has been informed of the events over the past few years and the Justice League plans to hold an official press meeting in the next day or so to go over the details." He pulled out his phone from his pocket and set it on the table. "And please, call me Bruce."

"Well Bruce," It sounds strange to say his name. "What are you going to tell them?"

He looked at me. "We are going to tell them the events of the past few years and explain the treatment, and we plan to have you there by our side. That is if you are well enough." He gestured to me.

"Why me?" I questioned.

"You are the one who saved the world." He looked to his son and then back at me. "The world has been wanting to meet you."

"I don't know." I sank into my seat a bit.

"That reminds me. Lois and Clarke are coming tomorrow to see you. I had to send them home twice while you were asleep." Bruce stood. "Raven, please feel at home here." He said before he walked out.

I turned to Damian who was looking down at the table, scowling.

"Damian?"

"What?" He looked at me and his eyes soften.

"What is a matter?" I turn my body towards his.

"You don't have to go to the press release. I told my father that you would need more time." He shook his head.

"Damian, it is fine. If I feel up to it, I would like to go. I want to." I put a hand on his.

"Okay." He hesitated before standing. He gave me his arm and we walked the lengths of the manor together. I wasn't really sure where he was taking me until we reached a door.

"You don't need to sleep in the bat cave." He explained to me and opened the door to a bedroom "You can stay here in my room."

"Your room?"

"If you don't feel comfortable, I can sleep elsewhere." He said, allowing me to walk in.

I stepped in and Damian followed. I sat on the bed and looked at him. "You can stay here," I said, wanting for him to stay here. I almost begged him not to leave.

"Alright." He nodded. "I have some clothes you can wear."

He went over to his dresser and pulled out a hoody and basketball shorts. He handed them to me. I took them and went to the bathroom attached to the room and changed. When I got out Damian had changed into shorts and a t-shirt as well.

I slid under the covers and looked at him. He turned off the lights and made his way to the bed with only the lamp beside the bed for light.

"Good night Rachel." He said after he had turned off the lamp, leaving us in the dark.

"Good night."

******

Next Day

There was a knock on the door. I opened my eyes only to be flooded with light. I buried my head under the covers, blocking out the morning. The person next to me stirred and went to the door, opening it just a crack.

"Morning Master Damian." Alfred greeted behind the door. "Your father is worried that Miss Roth has run off this morning, but I have come to ask if you know where she might be."

"Alfred don't be coy." Damian shook his head. "I am sure by the tone in your voice, you know she is with me."

"I had a hunch." There was amusement in Alfred's tone. "I will inform your father that I have found Miss Roth. Please join us downstairs, we have some visitors." He said just about to close the door. "Morning Miss Roth."

Damian forcefully closed the door and grumbled back to bed. He slid under the covers and his arms wrapped around my waist. I smiled and took the covers off my head and wiggled around so I could see him.

"Morning."

"Morning," Damian grumbled into the sheets.

"I think we need to go downstairs," I say, trying to free myself from Damian's grasp.

Damian has always been stronger than me, so his hold on me was firm. He was gentle not to hurt me, but his arms were not budging. I turned back to look at him when I gave up trying to get out of his grip.

"Damian..." I warned.

"Five more minutes." He grumbled again.

"You are normally a morning person, why are you like this?" I say, trying to break free again.

"Because for the first time in two years the world is not in danger and I am in bed with you. I want to keep it that way." He growled into my ear, seductively.

This sent shivers down my spine. A smile spread across my face and I leaned back into Damian's grasp. He was right. For the first time, we have been able to be just us without the fear of the world ending or father trying to kill him.

I sighed and then broke away from his hold. I stood up and looked down at Damian who was looking up at me from the sheets of the bed. He did not seem too happy.

"Damian, once we go downstairs and make ourselves known, we can come back up here. I am hungry and want to eat before I fall back asleep." I said, pulling at his arm to get him out of bed. He didn't move.

After a moment I dropped his arm and stepped back. He grumbled "fine." And got to his feet. He went into the bathroom to change into some different clothes I did a simple spell to change close into a shirt and pants.

When Damian came out his hair was wet and he smelled like aftershave. I smiled and walked over to him. I hugged him around his chest, taking in a breath. His arms wrapped around me as he continued to pull socks out of his drawer.

When we were both done getting ready we headed out the door and right downstairs to the kitchen. Alfred was at the counter with a stack of pancakes beside him. When I stepped in closer I noticed Bruce, Clark, and Lois all setting at the table. Damian walked over to the table and sat down.

Lois looked up and her eyes brightened when she saw me. She stood to her feet and practically ran to me. She embraced me and then I hear a chair crash to the ground and Clark got in the hug.

"I am so glad you are okay," Lois said into my ear. She held me so tight it was hard to breathe.

"Raven, how are you?" Clark asked, not letting go of me or Lois.

"I am fine," I said, embracing them.

In the past two years, I have grown close to Clark and Lois. Clark saved me from making a huge mistake and ending my life and Lois and Clark took care of me when I grew sick from my father's wrath.

They had become like a family to me. It was nice to be around them again.

Lois realized me and Clark and she stood back to look me over. They looked at me with concerned eyes, but I smiled.

"I am fine," I assured them.

Lois enveloped her hand in mine and led me back to the table. She made me sit in the seat that Clark was sitting in before, but he didn't seem to mind. He went and sat beside Bruce.

"You did it," Lois whispered in my ear when she sat down.

"What?" Whispered back to her.

"You saved the world." She smiled at me proudly. "I knew from the moment Clark brought you home that you were destined for great things."

I smiled. She had told me that a lot throughout our time spent together. She and Clark believed in me when I had lost hope in myself.

Alfred brought over a plate for me and Damian, who was now seated across from me. Alfred smiled at me when he handed me the plate. I couldn't help but blush.

"Raven, are you feeling better? The past few days we have come they told us you were asleep?" Clark turned to me.

"I am better." I nod and take a bite of my pancake.

"Glad to hear." He nodded. "Has Bruce filled you in on the press conference?"

"He said that the Justice League will hold one and that they would like me there," I said after I swallowed my food.

"And do you feel up to it?" Lois asked me in a concerned tone.

"It should be fine for me to go," I answered her.

She smiled at me and grabbed my hand that was resting on the table and gave it a squeeze. I looked at her and she had nothing but love in her eyes. I looked to Clark and he was just the same.

"I don't think Bruce has told you yet, but the Teen Titans have decided to take a season off and most of them are going home to family," Lois said, making me turn back to look at her. "And I know that the only family you had here was your father, and now he is gone."

I wasn't sure where she was going with this. Lois nervously turned to Clark and when I turned to him he just nodded with a smile on his face.

"We were wondering if you would like to come home with us." Lois turned back to me.

I looked at her in shock. She wanted me to come live with them? Clark and Lois were asking me to come to stay with them for the while the Teen Titans were away.

"What?" I said, not sure I understood all of this.

"Come stay with us, Rachel," Clark said across the table.

"What do you say?" Lois said in a cheerful tone.

"I..." I didn't know what to say. I have never felt more welcome.

"Father, surely she would be better staying with us." Damian's gloomy tone made me turn to him. He was upset and glaring daggers at his father.

"If Rachel would like to go with the Kent's then she is the one to make that decision," Bruce said sternly. "But, she should stay here for a few more days while we track her vitals and such."

"So what do you say?" Lois asked again.

I looked at Clark and Lois and then at Damian. For the past two years, the Kent's have held me together and given me love that no family has ever. I knew what I was going to choose, but I only wished Damian wouldn't hate me.

"Yes," I said, turning back to Lois. "When the press conference is over, I would like to come home with you and Clark."

Damian stood up and stomped out of the room. I winced at his footsteps but I knew what I wanted to do. Damian and I are just starting something, but I knew that I wanted to be with Kent's

"When we go back to Metropolis, I would like to introduce you as my daughter," Clark spoke up.

"Your daughter?" I turned back and forth at Lois and Clark to see if this was real.

"You are family and if these past two years prove anything, it is that you are a Kent." Lois squeezed my hand again. "Even if you are not by blood, you are."

"Thank you, guys." I smiled at the two of them.

"Rachel, would you mind if Clark, Lois, and I have the room?" Bruce spoke up. "We have a few matters with the press conference that need to be finalized."

I nodded and stood up. I left the room quietly, still smiling. I couldn't believe this. I didn't think about what would happen when I woke up. Clark and Lois took care of me for all these years, and I just thought when all of this was over they would lead their own lives, but now they want me to join them? I was happily surprised.

I was walked back to Damian's room. I didn't know how I was going to explain this all to him and I knew by the way he reacted he would not be happy, but I wanted to explain this all to him.

I knocked on the door.

Nothing.

I knocked again and this time when nothing happened I turned the nob. Damian was sitting at his desk in his room, writing something. I walked over to him and waited for him to finish. When he set the pen down I spun his chair to look at me and sat on the bed.

"Damian, I am going." I start.

His eyes were murderous.

"I love you." I put my hand on his. "I would stay with you forever, but over the past two years... It was the Kent's that took care of me."

I let go of his hand and put it in my lap. I looked down at my hands, not wanting to face Damian.

"I wanted to die. I mean it. I wanted it to be over. If I killed myself, Father would have never been freed and you would have been safe." I toy with my hands. "And I couldn't be with you because of it."

It was hard telling Damian this. I never admitted this to anyone before.

"When Clark showed up and took me in, he and Lois gave me something that I needed. Hope." I glance up and then quickly back down. Damian was staring at me like hot lasers. "They gave me a home and made me feel loved."

They were the parents I never had.

"I am going with them because they have become my family. Like the Titans, but with a stronger bond." A tear slipped. "I love you and this doesn't mean I don't. Just because I am leaving doesn't mean I am leaving you." I looked up at him, finding my courage. "I will portal here to see you whenever, but I need to do this."

Damian was silent for a second and I let my head drop. Maybe he didn't believe me or didn't want to hear this, but it needed to be said.

I felt his hand reach my face and I looked up to him.

"I love you." He said in almost a whisper. "And though I will hate having you far away, I understand." He nodded. "But I tell you this. I will gain your love enough one day to be considered the only family you will ever need." He said in a wild tone. "And on that day, you will be my wife."

His words were wild and truthful. I knew he meant this as a promise to me and it warmed my heart. I smiled at him as he whipped a tear from my face.

"We can portal to see each other and spend the nights." He grinned at me. "But for now, if this is where you want to be, then I will not fight."

I smiled at him.

"I love you," I said, meaning it with all my heart.

"And I love you." He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss.

#damiare #Damian Wayne #raven roth #Robin x Raven #raechel roth #demonbirds #teen titans #DC comics #justiceleague #apokolips #damian x raven #raven x damian

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aromanticbuck · 2 years

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Made up fic title: I'm doing you a favor

i'm so sorry i'm in my unhinged boys era (i rewatched part of Submerged and now i'm here) so this will be for my chaos ship that barely works even when i fudge a bunch of timelines. i just think Nate and Brandon have similar brands of chaos and i'm here to spread it yes i've made moodboards for them

i'm doing you a favor

The inheritance of so much power in the Chicago mob scene wasn't something that Nate Devlin was planning on. His mother had said that Constantine wasn't his father, in the hours before she died, but evidently that was a lie. And with almost no one left who was there to actually carry on the legacy... he practically got to start from scratch. He inherited some of the territory, and the connections, and the money, but he inherited the enemies, too. The name Devlin didn't exactly warn people away, not when it had been so entwined with his sister in those circles, the helpful doctor who did the bidding of more than one boss over the years, and that meant he was seen as an easy target. He was an easy target. And he needed protection. After no body was found and there was no real proof of his involvement in the events of the night of the accident besides the statements from Matt and the Searles family, Brandon was presumed missing. If they were lucky, between the head injury and blood loss, he'd stumbled into the river and drowned. That wasn't the case, not by a long shot, but he let them believe it. Instead, he got out, far away from the city that he'd called home his entire life, far away from the people who had taken everything from him, far away from the revenge he couldn't even hatch correctly. Brandon, last name irrelevant and a part of the past he was trying to forget, found himself in Chicago, a city big enough that he could blend into the crowd and no one would spare him a second glance. No one, at least, except for some wannabe mob boss, someone with daddy's money and title and not much else. But they could use each other. Nate needed a trigger man, and Brandon needed a life that didn't involve corporate fat cats pulling the strings. Really, they were doing each other a favor.

[ send me a fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write ]

#answered #anon #alex says things #nate devlin #brandon submerged2016 #mob doctor #submerged #alex did you-#take jesse and sam characters and ship them?#yes i did #cpd canon stopped giving me moustead so i made my own #the moodboards are sitting in my drafts if you see me use this for the blurb maybe you do maybe you don't #i am a nate is constantine's son truther

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haledamage · 3 years

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Oh there are so many good ones, but I’m gonna go with either aspectabund or petrichor for Nadia/Kurt bc I must ENABLE😇

aaaaand here’s the other one 😁 (first one is here)

aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

have 2000 words of pure hurt/comfort! putting everything including the notes under the cut because it’s pretty spoilerific

Takes place right after the Prince’s Secret/Treason!/Suffering of Constantin parade of earth-shattering revelations. That was a really rough day for De Sardet and I wanted Nadia to get a chance to actually process it before moving on to the next adventure. Nadia/Kurt, pre-relationship but only barely (like, literally the difference of a matter of days. They would have left to deal with Major Hermann in the morning 😉)

---

They had only just stepped into the warmth and relative safety of the De Sardet residence before Nadia left the room with barely a word or glance at any of her companions. Kurt felt her gentle dismissal like a blow to his chest, and the quiet click of her bedroom door latch carved a hollow space behind his rib cage. It didn’t feel right for her to be alone with her sorrows, no matter that at least some of the blame for her pain could be laid squarely at his feet.

He only realized he’d moved to follow her when a hand fell on his shoulder. When he turned to confront its owner, he found Vasco there, his expression grave enough to disperse Kurt’s anger before it had a chance to build. “Best leave her be. She’s had a trying day. Give her time.”

He was right. Kurt knew he was right. That didn’t mean he had to like it, but he tried to listen to his advice nonetheless.

He went to his own room, right across the hall from Nadia’s, and mindlessly stripped off his armor and weapons with the conciseness of routine. He tried not to think too much about the blood he washed off his skin, or if he’d known the person it belonged to; they had made their choice, and so had he.

Clean and dressed, Kurt was out of distractions. He considered patrolling around the property on the off chance that someone lurked with the intent to do Her Excellency harm, but instead of reaching for his sword he found himself reaching for the door handle. His feet carried him across the hall before he’d asked them to. It was only at the terse tap tap tap of his own knock that he realized he was at her door.

The woman who answered the door was not the Nadia de Sardet he thought he knew. He’d known her more than half her life and always she’d been a lively creature, clever and curious and full of mischief. But not now. Now she looked delicate and subdued, her normally bright blue eyes dull and ringed in red, ginger hair bedraggled and falling from its crown. She was still wearing her armor, caked in mud and blood and who knew what else. Her hand clenched tightly on the edge of the door, but it wasn’t enough to hide the way it trembled.

She was beautiful even so. He felt guilty for thinking it at a time like this, but not enough to consider taking it back.

“Kurt.” She tried to smile at him, but it fell far short of believable. Her voice shook like her hands did. “Is something the matter?”

“I think I should be asking you that question.” He clasped his hands behind his back like he was presenting himself to a superior officer for inspection, weighing his words and movements carefully so as not to bludgeon through this. She looked like a strong wind or word would break her entirely. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Even after everything that had happened, she didn’t hesitate before stepping aside in silent invitation. He slipped past her into the room before she could change her mind.

Everything looked completely untouched. A bath had been drawn for her, but the water remained pristine and had been left to cool. Nadia’s sword and rucksack sat in a chair against the wall, but they were the only sign anyone had stepped foot in this room in weeks.

Nadia herself still hovered by the closed door, arms wrapped around herself but shoulders straight. Her voice was stronger but still far too small. “Please tell me you aren’t here with any new world-shattering revelations. I don’t think my heart can take any more.”

“I just wanted to see you,” he assured her quickly. “Check on you, make sure you were…” The last word turned to ash in his mouth. Of course she wasn’t okay. That she was still even trying to smile was nothing short of a miracle.

“I’m fine,” she lied. She made no attempt to make it sound believable.

“No you’re not, Nadia. You don’t have to be.” She sagged, as if him calling her by name had severed the last of the bravado holding her upright. He caught her before she could collapse, one hand on her elbow and the other cupping her cheek. “Let me help you.”

She studied his face for a long moment, though what she was looking for he had no idea. Kurt let her search as long as she wanted, letting his thumb trace a line along the edge of her jaw as she did. He could feel her mark under his fingers, smooth lines and whorls like that of a newly-inked tattoo or the veins of a leaf.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she nuzzled into his hand, letting out a sigh of what sounded like relief. Then, finally, she nodded in assent.

Slowly and carefully, he helped her disrobe. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her naked--bathing in rivers and dressing each other’s wounds were part of the life they led, and he was too old to blush at the sight of a bit of bare skin, no matter who it belonged to. A traitorous part of his mind - one that had grown vocal of late, no matter how much he tried to push it away - wished that the circumstances were different, that he could be undressing her with a different outcome in mind, but he squashed that thought as soon as it arose. He wouldn’t take advantage of her distress like that, would not allow himself to consider such a thing right now.

Nadia was completely compliant under his direction, silent and passive as he removed her armor and led her to the bath. She didn’t so much as flinch at the touch of the cold water as he cleaned the blood and dirt from her skin as gently as possible. Kurt gave her a quick cursory search for injuries, but it seemed she’d at least had the wherewithal to heal herself at some point. Satisfied, he dressed her in fresh clothes and led her to the edge of the bed.

He sat next to her and set about unbraiding her hair. It was tangled and wild, and he considered brushing it for her as well, but didn’t trust himself to be gentle enough to do so without hurting her. Perhaps he should ask one of the others to help with that, later on.

And then Kurt was out of things to do and had no idea what to say to fill the quiet. He shouldn’t linger past his welcome, he told himself, no matter how much he might selfishly wish to remain in her company.

He climbed reluctantly to his feet, but stood in front of her a moment longer to see if she awoke from her trance. She didn’t, and so he reached out to rest his hand on the crown of her head in a way he hoped she found comforting. “Get some rest, Green Blood. If you need anything at all, you come find me. I’m right across the hall.”

Nadia still didn’t answer, and so he sighed and turned to leave.

“Kurt.” Her hand shot out and grabbed his. There was life in her eyes again when he turned back to her. “Thank you. For this and for… everything.” She looked away, distracting herself by tracing the lines of old scars on his hand, her touch light and yet deliberate. Kurt tried not to shiver at the sensation. “I can’t imagine how difficult of a decision it must have been. What you did today. I hope you don’t regret it.”

“The only thing I regret is that I couldn’t tell you sooner.” When Nadia didn’t look back up, he knelt in front of her, raising the hand that she didn’t still cling to up to her face to get her to meet his gaze again. Her eyes shimmered with tears, only barely held at bay. “D’you want to know why I did what I did? Why I chose you over the Coin Guard? Because they tried to order me to kill you, and you are sitting here crying your eyes out worried about how I feel about it.”

He’d told her once that her soft heart would get her killed one day. As it turned out, it may have been what saved her life - or saved his.

Her bottom lip quivered until she clenched her jaw to force it to still, but the action made the tears finally spill over, falling silently down her cheeks. He brushed them away, though more fell to take their place almost immediately. “Though I would bet these tears aren’t all for me, are they, Green Blood?”

She shook her head, though he didn’t really need the confirmation; the last day had brought revelations from every corner, but worst for her would be Constantin’s condition. Her cousin had always been her closest friend, and he might be considered her only real remaining family.

Kurt tried to force a bit of optimism in his voice, though he doubted it was convincing. “He’ll be okay. If anyone can save him, it’s you.”

“I couldn’t save my mother.” Nadia’s voice broke, and with it the last of her composure. “Can I even still call her that?”

Times like this served to remind Kurt that he did in fact still have a heart, because he could feel it break for her. Tears stung the back of his own eyes for a moment before he forced them away and sat on the bed once more, then gathered her into his arms. “Come here. I’ve got you.”

She buried her face in his shoulder with a whimper, gripping his shirt with a surprising strength, and finally let herself go.

Her body shook with the strength of her sobs, as if all of the day’s events struck her at once and tried to tear her asunder. Kurt held her through it all, whispering things he would only half remember if he tried to think of them later, attempts at comfort and confessions and promises that he knew neither of them would ever hold him to.

At some point, they fell back on the bed and Nadia pressed herself to his side like she was made to fit there. He continued to hold her close, stroking her back and hair until she had finally cried herself out and relaxed against him.

“Thank you, Kurt.” She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. It was a familiar motion - Nadia had always been free and easy with her affections when it came to those she cared about - but this time it burned like a brand, leaving a claim on him for the world to see. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured against her hair, “You’ll never have to find out.” It was the easiest oath he’d ever had to make, and he meant it with every bone in his body.

The last of the tension bled out of her, and he could feel her go slack as sleep claimed her at last.

He continued to caress her back for a while longer, the repetitive motion as soothing for him as it clearly was for her. He knew he should leave now that she was asleep, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to move. He didn’t want to wake her, he reasoned to himself. She shouldn’t be left alone in this state. It would be easier to protect her if he stayed--just in case more trouble came for them.

He was still trying to convince himself when sleep dragged him under too.

#greedfall #nadia de sardet #nadia/kurt #kurt's pov because he is a grumpy stoic man and nadi is an open book with hearts drawn in the margins #so when the prompt said 'showing emotion' I knew it would be her with the emotion not him :P #and then That One Quest happened and now we're here #love the intimacy of non-sexual nudity and any chance I get to write it

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Heaven, Hell and You

John Constantine x OFC (Valerie Moore) (A/n- been working on this for a while so please be gentle. Should run for approx. 10 chapters)

Warnings- Violence, mentions of mental health.

Masterlist *masterlist for this series coming later.

Chapter 1

He could feel the dread in his bones, and being caught in the middle of a war that no one had prepared for was turning out to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He supposed it had been a long time coming though; the whispers had long started growing louder and the things lurking in the shadows had slowly found their way to light; growing bolder by the day. Angels and demons alike. Most of the time, they looked so human, it was hard to tell, but John could see, he could always see. He could see then too.

“She’s mine,” the disfigured creature hissed, its face half deteriorated, looking sickeningly decayed. It’s clothes were tattered form the battle that had, for a reason that he couldn't distinguish, been put on hold and the half breed seemed almost broken in the back, hunched over and possibly minutes away from returning from where it had come. Still though, it was willing to put up a fight, and even if it had perished, by his, or anyone else’s hand, John knew more would come, hell seemed to be spitting them out by the dozens by then.

“Yours?” An angel, one he wasn’t readily familiar with, chuckled wearily, flexing her wings as a show of unwavering strength, brandishing her blood stained sword offensively, so close to the demon’s face that it had to step back to evade an ending slice, “Can’t you see? She doesn’t belong with filth like you, her home is with us. Surrender now and I might be obliged to let you and the rest of your army live.” The angel, clad in her ruined garment seemed more willing to fight, more able too, than her demonic opponent, and already, John could tell that soon, they’d be at it again.

The funny thing was, John thought as he spectated, was that he couldn’t really tell where he stood, mentally or physically. Instead, he felt like an inactive participant, observing the destroyed streets of downtown Los Angeles from a window or television screen. No voice, no ability to impact the outcomes, not even visible. Though, he could hear and see perfectly, right from where he was, wherever that may be.

“Never,” the bitter conversation in the distance carried on as if he weren't even there, “She’s ours, her mother is one of us,” the demon reared back again when the angel took another swipe at it, its steps barely evading what was left of a hellish corpse. For the briefest second, John took his eyes off the exchange, drinking in his surroundings, his mouth falling open as he finally realized the devastation. It was as if heaven and hell had faced a gory collision, right there on earth. Corpses laid strewn on the streets and sidewalks, broken wings behind perished angels, mangled bodies of dead demons, and worst of all, dozens of humans, all caught in the crossfire, now gone, committed to either eternal plane all because they’d been collateral damage. The sweltering air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and pungent sulfur, turning his stomach. Smoke from burning buildings gave the atmosphere a hazy tint while the remaining flames lapped at the starless, moonless sky, almost begging for mercy from a god that wasn’t going to give it.

God was a kid with an ant farm, and now, the ant farm was burning and he couldn’t give a shit.

The angel chuckled, a slight breeze blowing her auburn locks forward as she shook her head, “And her father is of us. She is more him than her wretched mother,” she spat, as if the words had left the foulest taste on her divine tongue.

The demon’s laugh was reminiscent of a hacking cough, “Of you?” Cracking it’s neck and shrugging shoulders, John could tell that hell wasn’t about to toss in the towel that soon, “Her father should have become a fallen, but I suppose that being daddy’s favorite has always had its perks. But it doesn’t matter, he forsook her, left her for dead. And it would be in your favor to forsake the girl too.”

There was no use in trying to work out who the subject of their conversation, because John didn’t have the slightest clue. Just then though, a voice caught his attention from behind a pile of rubble, small and shaking with fear, “Help me,” she sobbed softly, causing him to turn, only just realizing that he too was caught in the disrepair. Tilting his head, John turned fully, bending slightly to get a better look of her. She was young and he could tell that beneath the blood and soot streaking her face and matting her dark hair, she was beautiful. Full lips quivered as she continued, and the lower one still shone with fresh blood from a nasty split, “Please help me,” tears joined the mess on her cheeks, and in an instant, John was hurrying to her side, melting at her helplessness.

“They’re looking for you?” he held her at the shoulders, her torn blouse allowing him to feel the softness of her milky skin, so silky and warm. He’d never seen beauty like hers, so ethereal, though with a darkness in her eyes that may suggest that there was more than what met the eyes.

Nodding, her breath hitched and she sniffled, “But I don’t know why. Please help me,” when a set of footsteps drew closer to where they were hiding, the young woman grabbed John’s biceps, her nails digging into the white fabric of his dress shirt, “Please-”

A boney, yellowish hand with mangled fingers reached out, grabbing the nameless woman by the back of her torn blouse, hosting her up like she weighed nothing. On instinct, John reached out for her flailing hands, hoping to tug her back to him and buy her, at the very least, a few more minutes. Barely, he caught the tips of her fingers, feeling her nails graze his palms, but none of it lasted too long, and soon, she was tucked hastily to a demon’s chest, wails escaping her plump, pink lips, “No!” She screamed, still reaching out for him.

John awoke with a startle, shooting up in the darkness, hair stuck to his face and chest dominated with heavy breaths. For a minute, he’d thought he was still with the girl, and with a yell, he lunged forward, hoping to grab her, but when he was met with nothing but air, John realized his true surroundings. He was at home, in his bed, tangled in the thin sheets and all alone.

Drenched and frenzied, John lingered there for a minute more before shoving the covers off his legs and shuffling out of bed, headed for the kitchen, barely noting that he’d perspired through the sheets. He knew the loft by heart, and in no time, after expertly evading pieces of his rickety furniture, he was at the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it with tap water before downing the entire thing in one go. Before that, his mouth had felt as if he’d just spat out a fistful of cotton, dry and uncomfortable, and as John refilled the glass, he tried to push the memories of his all to vivid dream away.

He’d been having it so often, or at least, ones like it. The city was always in ruins, there was always a war between hell and heaven, and the final common variable was the girl. The gorgeous girl whose name John didn’t know. In every version, she’d clung to him for dear life, and in every version, he’d failed her, always left helpless as she was claimed by one side or the other. Angie, when he’d mentioned it once, had told him that he should probably see a therapist or something, that the dreams were probably just a manifestation of his guilt now that he was trying to turn his life around. But what the hell did she know?

Of course, John didn’t have the slightest clue on what to make of the dreams, but he did know two things for sure; he didn’t need a therapist and he should probably stop drinking before bed.

“Valerie…..”

“Huh?” She turned, looking up the dim corridor, trying to suppress the frightened shiver that had run up her spine upon seeing that there was no one behind her. “Okay Val, you’re just hearing things. There’s nothing there,” her whispered reassurances did nothing to comfort her, and as Valerie neared the elevator, her quick walk turned into a full on jog.

She always hated working that late, but it wasn’t an occurrence she could avoid anyway, especially when her bills were continuously piling higher, her debt sinking her deeper and the only way out of it was by taking on extra shifts when she could get them. Breathlessly, Valerie slipped into the elevator, pretending that she didn’t notice the eerie flickering of the hall lights just as the fading doors hummed closed. Hastily, she hit the knob that would take her to the underground parking lot, hoping the ride down would go by faster than usual. At least when she got home, she’d know for sure that she was the only one there and that the only creepy voice taunting her, was the one in her head.

Or, so she thought.

Finally, when the doors opened, with her keys already in hand, she started the trek to her car, hoping to put the hospital in her rearview as soon as possible. That was when she heard it again, “Valerie……” It had been louder that time, and by then, she was absolutely sure that there was someone calling her name.

“Who’s there?” She turned abruptly, brown strands escaped from her loose ponytail whipping her in the face. Reaching into her tote, Valerie felt around for the canister of pepper spray that her very paranoid father had gifted her a couple months prior. Though, with the way things were going, she was starting to understand exactly why he was always so concerned for her safety. “I know someone’s here,” she desperately tried to steady her voice, “I swear to god, if you pull something, I’ll kick your ass.”

In actuality, she probably could not kick their ass, but they didn’t need to know that.

“My sweet Daeva,” a female voice taunted, that time offering more than than the others usually did, though Valerie wasn’t quite sure she’d heard it right. It was almost as if the words were blowing past her ear, far too quickly for her to really pick them up, “It’s time to come home.”

Gulping and having decided that pepper spray might not be enough to ward off potential kidnappers, Valerie took off, feet hitting the floor hard with each step as she ran towards her car, parked all the way on the opposing side. Her lungs burnt more than it had in awhile, and even as she moved clumsily, she scoured for the right key, singling it out just in the nick of time.

Getting in, she turned the key in the ignition, grateful that it started without trouble and quickly pulling out of the spot. With her foot heavy on the gas, Valerie broke out onto the deserted side street, droplets from the night’s heavy drizzle pattering against her windshield, running down the front, occasionally swept to the side by the wipers. The streets were almost barren, as a consequence of it being past two am, and even worse yet, because of the rain that had poured heavily on and off throughout the day.

Her eyes were heavy, two twelve hour shifts weighing them down, and as Valerie continued driving and the adrenaline from the parking lot wore off, it was a fight to keep them open. Just about twenty minutes longer. The windows were up, the air conditioning humming loudly, joining the soft rumbling of her engine as she pressed forward. Sighing deeply, taking note of the lights ahead, Valerie shook her head vigorously, hoping to ward off sleep, though, it only worked for a couple seconds, and before she knew it, her lids were drooping closed again, lashes tangling and skewing her vision.

Maybe a minute wouldn’t kill her, she was almost home anyway.

“Valerie!” A voice far different from the ones before yelled her name, making her eyes snap open, just in time for her to slightly lift her foot only to slam it on the brakes, bringing her car to a screeching halt.

“Fuck!” She breathed heavily; she’d almost ran a red light…..and hit a person! Right there, in front of her car, stood a man, dressed all in white, like a hospital warden or something similar, not looking scared, startled or dazed in the slightest, not even jumping like she had when right after, a three ton sped noisily across the intersection. Had he not been there and she’d run the lights, it might have killed her. The man still stood rigid, merely an inch away from the hood of her car. She’s almost hit someone, possibly almost killed him. “Oh my god,” she fought a sob, shifting the gear into park, only bending her head to shut the engine off before getting out to check on her almost victim. Though, when she raised her head again, much to her dismay, he was gone. Not off to the side or across the street, he was just gone, like he’d vanished in thin air.

From the safety of her car, she spent not more than a second looking around and afterwards, Valerie quickly got the vehicle started again, choosing to count the ordeal as a rare stroke of luck, and hoping to get home, hopefully without any other mishap.

Little did she know, the trouble was only just beginning.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea @luxx-aeterna

#keanu reeves #john constantine #constantine #constantine 2005 #keanu reeves fanfic #constantine x ofc #constantine x reader #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #constantine fanfic #fanfiction #heaven hell and you

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sincerelyella · 3 years

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RAMifications Chapter 6 - Breathe

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Breathe by Faith Hill

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me.

A/N: The entire idea for this series came from @burnsoslow and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake and Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia and became his Queen.

Kind of a filler chapter, I guess it was necessary though..?

Catch up here

Warnings: None really

Words: 1943

“What in the hell is going on?” Standing at the door was King Constantine, his guard Bastien, and Queen Regina, who just gave Liam a sympathetic smile.

“F-father,” Liam was taken aback at his father’s harsh tone, even more so at the fact that all of them were standing there at his front door. Constantine pushed his way inside his son’s quarters, his feet stomping on the hardwood floors. Regina quietly followed behind him and patted Liam on the shoulder.

“Why did no one tell me that House Beaumont’s young lady has backed out?” The King’s voice boomed and could be heard throughout every room.

Liam looked at his father’s guard Bastien and gave him a look. Bastien gave him a tight smile, bowed his head and closed the door while staying outside.

Liam cleared his throat and turned. “Father, House Beaumont has a lady they will be sponsoring.”

Constantine turned to face his son. “Oh? And why weren’t we informed of this change, Liam?” The King gave him a pointed look. “I know the social season isn’t something you were … agreeable to. But this is tradition,” his face softened looking at his son. “Liam, you need a queen to rule alongside you.”

Bertrand appeared next to Constantine and spoke before Liam could respond. “Your Majesties,” he bowed. “So sorry to blindside you with this situation. House Beaumont does have a young lady we are sponsoring. She is here if you would like to meet her.”

“Yes, we would both like that, Duke Ramsford. Please lead the way,” Regina spoke up for the first time since walking into the room.

Liam, Regina and Constantine followed Bertrand into the living area where Ella and Maxwell were waiting.

“Lady Ella,” Bertrand widened his eyes while he faced her, gave Ella a stern look and mouthed ‘curtsy’ before speaking again. “This is His Majesty King Constantine, and Her Majesty Queen Regina of Cordonia,” Bertrand turned to the King and Queen. “Your Majesties, this is Lady Ella of House Beaumont.”

“Your Majesties,” Ella curtsied as low as she could.

Regina stepped forward and wrapped a warm hand around Ella’s. “It’s so nice to meet you, my dear,” she said softly.

“You as well, ma’am.”

“Lady Ella,” Constantine took in the woman in front of him, then softly smiled at her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. You’re American?”

Ella nodded. “Yes sir, I’m from California.”

“Ahh California,” the King looks up wistfully. “Liam’s late mother and I went there for a business event at the Beverly Hilton Hotel. It was a conference that supported world trade and investment,” he looks back towards Ella and his face takes on a more serious expression. “What are your thoughts on world trade, Lady Ella?”

He’s testing me. She looked at the King, held his gaze and swallowed the lump in her throat. “World trade is definitely vital for economic growth, sir. With the size and shape of the economy changing considerably in recent years, established patterns of trading have had to change along with it,” she paused briefly to take in the King’s expression, which was pure astonishment. Ella took a deep breath in and continued. “The challenge is to essentially make sure that the regulatory framework keeps up with modern times.”

Regina smiled wide at Ella and winked. Constantine, Liam, Bertrand and Maxwell’s eyes were all wide, mouths open in shock. “Ah … well said, Lady Ella,” the King finally responded.

The queen, still smiling, spoke up. “Lady Ella, what did you do in California before coming here?”

“I was going to school at UCLA, ma’am, for my bachelor’s degree in nursing. My ... parents wanted me to major in something other than history and political science.”

Regina’s eyebrows went up. “They didn’t like that you majored in those subjects?”

“They wanted me to pursue a degree much like my grandmother, mother, and aunt who are all nurses.”

“So,” Constantine’s voice carried through the room. “You’re here for the study abroad program then?”

Ella made eye contact with Liam and he gave her a small nod. “I initially came to Cordonia for a study abroad program, yes sir, and interned in the children’s hospital for six weeks,” she smiled at the memory of her taking care of those little patients. “It was a rewarding experience. I fell in love with your country and made arrangements to study at Cordonia University.”

Regina looked pleased by Ella’s answer, Constantine had a blank look on his face. “That sounds amazing, I’m so glad you love Cordonia,” she looked up at her husband. “Isn’t that right, dear?” She elbowed Constantine in the side.

He flinched, then looked around and met all gazes in the room before speaking. “Yes … yes quite right. Very glad.” He gave Ella a small smile and cleared his throat. “The Queen and I have a meeting to attend, everyone,” the King turned to Liam and clapped him on the shoulder. “Son, we’ll see you in Applewood.”

Liam nodded. “Yes, I’ll see you then.”

Constantine turned back to Ella. “Lady Ella, again, it was a pleasure to meet you. We shall see you in Applewood as well.”

“Yes sir, I’ll see you there.” Regina nodded to everyone and murmured her goodbyes. The King and Queen walked towards the door and let themselves out of the apartment. As soon as they left all eyes turned to Ella in a silent question.

“Why are you guys looking at me like that?” Ella chuckled, knowing exactly why they were staring.

“You know about trade and investment? And you’re studying to be a nurse? Isn’t that, like, almost being a doctor?” Maxwell babbled. “Then how come you were delivering flowers? And wh-”

“No, we’re not even close to being doctors, Max,” Ella interrupted as she giggled.

“You’re so smart,” he stared down at her, marveled at his new best friend.

Ella hated having to try and sell herself to people she didn’t know. Guess I’ll be doing that regularly now. “Why is everyone so surprised anyway? I took a few classes on international trade and economic diplomacy back home and that’s how my political science degree happened.”

“You’re full of surprises, Lady Ella,” Liam smiled, stepped towards her and leaned down to place a quick kiss on her lips. “My Father and Regina were impressed with you.”

Before she could respond, Bertrand cleared his throat. “Yes Lady Ella, that was an … appropriate answer. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet. Maxwell and I will escort you to your room.” He looks at Liam and bowed. “Your Highness, we will see you in a couple of days.”

Liam nodded with a small smile. “Yes, thank you,” he looks down at Ella, then turns to the two men. “Can you please give us a moment alone?”

Maxwell and Bertrand nod and let themselves out of the quarters.

Liam wrapped his large hands around Ella’s waist and pulled her up to meet his lips. She felt his smile get bigger as the kiss lingered. His arms wrapped around her and she sighed happily, melting into his embrace; not even noticing that her feet were high off the floor. They finally parted and grinned at each other.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked through the door,” he murmured. His words gave her goosebumps all over her body. “You’re really doing this,” he whispered, almost in awe, as he ran a finger along her cheek. Liam said it somewhat out loud, more so to himself than to Ella. He was still on cloud nine, he couldn’t believe she would willingly would join in the middle of the social season just to be with him. Not for a crown, not for power, not for wealth … but for him.

“Yes, I am.” She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “You’re … still wanting this?”

God yes! ”I still want this, Ella,” He leaned down to kiss her, urgently now, not like the soft, lingering kiss he gave her earlier. He pulled away, set her back on her feet and rested his forehead on hers. “You have no idea how much I want this,” he whispered.

She grinned wide. “Then I guess I’ll see you at Applewood then, Your Highness.”

“Who knows … maybe you’ll see me sooner than that,” he winked and reluctantly loosened his arms around her, his hands lingering on her waist. “You should go, Bertrand gets impatient.”

Ella nods, quickly places her hand on his cheek and walks out of the apartment.

Bertrand made eye contact with Ella as she slipped out the door and he began to walk. Maxwell dragged Ella’s suitcases behind him and flashed her a cheesy smile. She followed both of them with wide eyes as they walked through yet another hallway in the palace. The trio arrived at a door and Bertrand turned the knob and pushed it open.

“Alright, let’s go over some things, Lady Ella,” he turned to look at her while she flopped onto the bed with Maxwell. “We leave for Applewood Manor in a matter of days. You will be watched by not only the King and Queen but also by the other suitors and the press. I have arranged for you to do an interview with them before we leave. That way, they can get to know you and be able to tell the people your story.”

“When is the interview?”

“Tomorrow afternoon!” Maxwell bounced on the bed next to her. “I’m going to help you find something to wear. We need to make sure that the press and the people know who Lady Ella is,” he grinned wide at her when he took in her stunned face. “It’ll be fine! We got you!”

Bertrand frowned. “Yes, well … that remains to be seen. We need you to show the press that you’re competent in matters of the court; especially with trade deals and tariffs the King and Prince Liam will be negotiating with other countries.” He eyed her carefully. “Especially if you are to be queen someday, you will need to know these things.”

Ella blew out a breath. “I understand.”

“We will let you get some sleep then, Lady Ella. Be up bright and early tomorrow and we’ll go over things for the interview. Have a good evening.” Bertrand gave her a curt nod and turned to walk out of the room.

“Goodnight, Ella!! I’ll see you in the morning!” Maxwell gave her a quick hug.

“Goodnight, Max!”

The men left and closed the door behind them. Ella looked around the room, took in every detail. From the plush bedspread with gold embroidery, to the enormous bed frame, the impossibly high ceiling with the diamond encrusted chandelier in the middle of it. This is a little much. Will I ever get used to all of it?

Ella never thought in a million years she would be sitting in a palace, falling for a prince. A literal Prince Charming. Thinking about Liam got her feeling giddy, like a kid in a candy shop. She never, ever felt that way with Ethan. Not even a little bit. That has to mean something.

A knock on her door had her swiftly turning head away from her phone and towards the sound. She walked over and opened it quickly with a smile on her face, thinking it was Maxwell or Liam. The smile faded when she saw who was on the other side.

“Your Majesty?”

King Constantine looked down at her, lips tucked between his teeth. “Lady Ella. Might I have a word?”

#RAMifications #Liam x MC #Liam x Ella #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr #trr choices #choices trr #choices the royal romance #choices liam x mc #choices trr au #choices liam #pixelberry #play choices #the royal romance #the royal romance fandom #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance au

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venusofthehardsells · 4 years

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No Rest for the Wicked [Dea ex Machina part one]

John ConstantinexAngel!Reader Summary: You travel to a remote island to put a murderous spirit to rest, but things get complicated when you run into one John Constantine. Warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness, blood, smoking, ghosts, pining, is slowburn a warning? A/N: My first Constantine fic on tumblr, yay! This was originally written for a challenge aaages ago, but it got away from me and I couldn’t meet the deadline. I had so much fun with this though, Constantine is a great character to write for! There will definitely be more stories about him and this particular angelic reader in the future ♥

I’ve mixed elements from both the Vertigo comics and the NBC TV series, as well as from the general DC Universe, so don’t expect accuracy when it comes to canon. A special thanks to @nellblazer for support and linguistic aid, you’re the best! ♥ Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged ~

Contrary to common belief, there had never actually been any ravens on Raven’s Rock. The tiny, windswept fleck of land in the North Sea had been named a few hundred years ago by a fool of a sailor, who hadn’t been able to tell a raven from a severely lost and consequently very confused Scandinavian pigeon. Said sailor had regrettably also been of some importance in his homeland at the time, meaning no one had bothered to correct the unfortunate mistake for fear of losing a head. Even though everyone who since came upon the island only ever managed to find gulls and puffins and various other seabirds, it had still kept its misleading English name.

The Celts, who by rights had been on the island long before the British, had chosen to play it safe and completely forego the bird names (although it had been suggested several times in later centuries to change it to the Gaelic word for seagull, or even pigeon, as a taunt). Instead, they had most likely looked to the ancient ruins that specked the island, jutting up from the rocks like broken teeth and, all things considered, had endured well beyond memory and history and legend. Or perhaps they had still been reeling from the mad determination that had brought them and their wooden ships so far from home. Whichever the case, they had called the stubborn, little rock Innis Seasmhach, “the steadfast island”.

That was its official name to this day, though most people, especially those who didn’t speak Gaelic (which in all fairness are not very many), still referred to it as Raven’s Rock.

The locals shrugged and simply called it “the island”.

There was only one village on the entire island, whose population on a good day might reach a hundred and thirty people. That usually only happened a few times during summer when the ferries from Stavanger and Aberdeen docked at the same time. The tourists came to see the ruins, buy a souvenir fridge magnet of a raven or a puffin, complain about the frightfully bleak weather and leave again on one of the ferries that departed before evenfall, secretly happy they didn’t have to spend any more time on the island.

On the day you arrived, the population on the isle of Raven’s Rock, was an astounding one hundred and forty four, which was quite unheard of in the middle of October.

What was even more unheard of, however, was the reason for all these untimely appearances.

A night ago, a pair of fishermen had discovered the body of a man in a small, secluded cove on the north side of the island. The body was placed so that it could only be seen from sea, unless one were to venture down a rocky and extremely narrow trail into the cove itself. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone slipping and ending up on the stony beach below. That kind of unfortunate death was of course tragic, but it hardly warranted the wide array of policemen and journalists the death had attracted. No, the reason for the sudden interest was the gruesome way the body had been displayed.

The dead man had been stripped bare and splayed out on the rocks like a cross with his arms stretched away from his torso. His skin was almost completely covered in symbols and writing no one could make sense of, though one expert, when consulted by the mystified and slightly desperate police, vaguely suggested it was possibly a rare pre-Arthurian dialect.

The more macabre specifics had so far been kept out of the press.

One was that the writings on the body had been done in blood, the corpse’s own, and another was that it came from where the head had been crudely severed from the rest of the flesh and spiked close by on a piece of driftwood.

Even hypnotised, the young sergeant who had told you, had looked slightly green when he related the information. You had padded him sympathetically on the shoulder before moving on. He wouldn’t remember revealing the details to you, but the information itself was seared into his mind forever.

His, along with the rest of the islanders’, you mused as you continued from the harbour and on into the village.

The locals called it “town”, but in truth it wasn’t really big enough to warrant that title.

It had one store that sold a little bit of everything depending on the weather, a church, a pub, a repair shop (it wasn’t specified what exactly you could get repaired there) and a public building, functioning as city hall, police station, post office, library and school in one. All the police reinforcements from Aberdeen had been moved into the city hall, seeing as the only two policemen permanently stationed on the island had never handled a murder case before. Meanwhile, the reporters and TV crews covering the case were taking up the pub’s five tiny bedrooms, both B&Bs and every single rental cottage Raven’s Rock could boast (nine in total if you counted the back room in the garage of the repair shop). Because you had left for the airport in a hurry and jumped onto the first plane to Norway, you hadn’t had time to secure a place to sleep on the island. You had pondered it on the ferry, but when it came down to it, you didn’t want to stick around longer than a day. If you worked fast, you could probably be on your way back to the mainland in the morning and wouldn’t need to worry about finding a bed. You had spotted a bench down by the harbour; it would have to do.

Besides, you didn’t have any time to waste as long as the murder case was unsolved. You could still hear Madame Xanadu’s words in your head like some annoying ominous echo.

A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks. The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Fate was a menace when you had to deal with it like this, grounded and fumbling through the world with nothing but scraps to guide you. Not like in the old days when you had all of Heaven at your disposal… Being a proper angel had really had its advantages. You scoffed and walked faster. At least this prophecy had been pretty straightforward, which was far from what you were usually given to work with, you thought sourly, folding your arms around yourself against the wind.

A malevolent spirit that should have passed on, but hadn’t was easy enough to figure out; it happened all the time and you could deal with that. The location of the spirit had also been a walk in the park with so many hints to go on.

What really worried you was the second part of Madame Xanadu’s little mystic insight.

The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Blood drinking was never a good omen in prophecies. It hardly ever meant vampires, usually just death. And the laughing magician, well, that one was always the same. The reason Madame Xanadu had called upon you to restore the balance in this place.

John Constantine.

Whenever one of her foresights indicated that the blonde warlock was walking into something he couldn’t handle himself, she sent you after him or, in this case, ahead to clear his path for him. Most times, he didn’t even know you had been there and you preferred it that way.

Like now.

The last you had heard of John was that he was in the States. Sufficiently far away, you thought. Even if someone had alerted him to the murder on Raven’s Rock, it would be at least another day before he could reach the windswept little island and by then you hoped to be long gone. It was best if you two didn’t meet at all.

You chewed on your lip as you thought of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, it was just… easier if you didn’t. The things you did, the jobs you took were simply too dangerous if your focus wasn’t a hundred per cent on the task in front of you. And with John around, your newly mortal heart had a tendency to make your better judgement evaporate.

You passed a phonebox on the main (and only) street that looked as though it had seen better days and a small tourist information office/part time bakery with its doors and windows shut for the night, before you reached the seemingly only building in town with light and, admittedly subdued, noise streaming out of it: the pub. Apart from the city hall, you reckoned it must be the oldest building around, but also by far the one in best repair. The wooden sign above the heavy green door was, unsurprisingly, in the shape of a very sinister looking gull and it swayed in the wind with an ominous creak that made a shiver run down your spine, as if trying to dissuade you from entering.

Well, it wasn’t very likely that you would get any information elsewhere. With determination in your steps, you walked the last few cobbled steps to the door and went inside.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, the patrons, the energies... and you froze on the threshold.

On a stool by the bar sat the very man you had hoped to avoid. He had taken off his signature trench coat and his back was towards you, but it didn't matter; you would recognise him blindfolded. He was so thoroughly cloaked and shrouded in magical protections of all sorts that the space he occupied was practically a vacuum. It was damn near impossible to locate him by magic, you knew. If one weren't looking directly at him, like you were now, no sixth sense or intricate spell would reveal his whereabouts. But his was a vacuum you had come to know very well. So well in fact, that by now you could pin him down by his apparent lack of magic, rather than by his well-hidden magical signature, and yet, there he was, sitting only half a room away from you with a drink in one hand and one of his ghastly Silk Cuts resting between the fingers of the other. And you hadn't noticed. You hadn't even done a quick scan to see if there were other magical presences on the island when you arrived. Worse, you hadn't cloaked yourself as thoroughly as you normally would have done and your own signature reached him before you could even think to try and prevent it.

From the way he straightened his back and immediately snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray as if someone had shouted at him to show some care, you could tell he knew you were there. He shifted ever so slightly as if making room for you and you sighed. There was no getting out of this one.

Getting rid of your raincoat, you went over and crawled onto the empty stool next to him.

You were met with that wicked smirk of his that made your heart stutter and stumble in your chest.

"Now, there's a pleasant surprise to brighten this hellhole," he greeted, raising his glass at you. "Must confess, I never guessed I'd be running into you on this godforsaken rock, luv."

"Hello John." You did with a nod, trying to keep your voice even. "Can't say I expected this to be your sort of retreat either."

The warm light in the pub shone in John Constantine's dark eyes and his smirk grew into a grin.

"It's good to see you, luv. I've missed that disapproving pout o' yours. The fact that I never know when I'll see it again makes it so much sweeter."

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't attempt to hide your burning cheeks. The bastard couldn’t possibly know exactly how brightly your torch for him was burning, but he always acted accordingly.

"So, what are you doing here then? Odd place for playing tourist, innit?"

He leaned on the counter, his hand moving closer to where yours was resting and there was that little, dark gleam of hope in his eyes that always appeared when he looked at you. As if there was somehow some other reasonable purpose you could have to be in a place like this, at a time like this.

You shrugged, biting down a smile.

"I find the climate rather agreeable."

John threw his head back and laughed at that. Even the barkeep, who had overheard your words, snorted. You caught his gaze before he turned back around and ordered a sparkling water.

"Right. And I just happened by to see the sights, eh?"

"Well, what do you think of them then?"

You raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of the fizzy water the barkeep placed in front of you. John grinned and gave you an obvious once-over. Your dirty boots and high-neck jumper didn't seem to put him off.

"Much improved since this morning. At this rate, I can't wait to see how they'll look in the night."

"Oh, I ought to slap that smirk off your smug face, wizard," you sighed, feeling how your stomach was practically fluttering at his suggestive tone.

"Is that a promise, luv?"

"You're insufferable."

"Aye, that I am, luv, but you keep coming back for more. Must be doing something right, eh?"

You bit your lip and looked down; he suddenly felt too close. And the general level of noise inside the pub from people chattering wasn't as high as you had hoped. It would be easy for others to overhear anything you said. Given the island-wide unrest over the murder, you were sure ears were perked more than usual and you didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, or John. You would have to gather more information some other way.

"I missed you, too," you confessed, staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar as if they were all of a sudden exceedingly interesting. "But I... I thought you were helping out a certain green vigilante overseas these days."

John visibly tensed up.

"Who told you that?"

You shrugged, still not looking directly at him. The truth was that he couldn't really hide from you, not even in your current state. If he found out though, you didn't doubt for a second that his heated flirting would be switched for a literal knife in the back before you could even think the word "portal". Well, perhaps not literal, but you had no doubt the outcome would be fatal for you anyway.

"Who told you to come here?," you countered, raising an eyebrow and John scoffed.

"If you must know, I got a call from an old friend. Looks like she's been scrying on her own and this little spit of land kept drawing all her energy. Didn't seem like something I could ignore."

"You should've," you mumbled, taking a large slurp of your water and doing your best to ignore the persistent little spark of envy starting to gnaw away at you at his choice of words. What old friend? It had to be someone he had slept with, it always was with him. Why couldn't you just not care? "Take my advice, John, leave. Go home and lay low. I'll handle this island."

"Is that concern for old Johnny I hear, luv?," he asked with mock-surprise.

"Maybe. Don't let it get to your head, your ego won't be able to fit into that coat of yours."

He chuckled, but the tension was still there and you didn't know how to break it without giving him the truth, or at least something close.

"Your turn, pretty bird. I don't believe in coincidences like this, so tell me. How'd you know to come here?"

Lying to John Constantine was out of the question. As was being honest with him.

You chewed on your lip a bit, weighing your options. It wasn't like him to accept any kind of help unless he was downright desperate and that was still a long way off. If you challenged him though, he was most likely to flee, that much you knew. But you didn't want to get on his bad side unless you had absolutely no other choice.

"Leave," you repeated. "This one's out of your league, John. Let me take care of it, please."

The way your eyes were pleading with him made him frown and you realised you might have shown too much of your hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, luv." His hand was on top of yours on the bar before you could move it. To anyone looking, it seemed like an affectionate gesture, but he was effectively pinning you in place. "Not until you give me a bloody good reason not to give you the same treatment as whatever beast it is we're dealing with on this island."

"Let go of me."

Your voice wasn't very loud, but you knew he could hear you. He answered by pressing down harder on your hand and you winced.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe I just want to keep you safe?," you all but hissed at him, emptying your drink with a sour expression.

"Oh, I trust you just about as far as I can throw you, luv. Every time I see your pretty little face it means there's trouble brewing just around the corner."

"I saved your life in Tennessee. And in Derry," you tried, but his hold didn't loosen. If anything, John was now gripping your hand so hard no blood could possibly flow to your fingers. "I am trying to do your stubborn Scouse arse a bloody favour, why can't you just for once in your damn life listen to me?"

"Tell me your name then and maybe I will."

Fuck. Somehow it always came down to that.

"Xanadu," you snapped through gritted teeth, eyeing John with what you hoped was an appropriate amount of ire. "Xanadu contacted me and told me about this place. Happy? Obviously, she wasn't going to tell you now, was she?"

John withdrew his hand from you as though you'd burned him. It felt about as pleasant as a punch to the teeth, but you tried not to let it show on your face.

"I suppose you're right...," he admitted. "What did she tell you then? Her usual cryptic nonsense I reckon?"

"For someone in your line of work, you're not at all keen on prophecy reading, are you?," you sighed, forcing a bit of humour into your words.

There was no love lost between John Constantine and Madame Xanadu, that much had been clear to you from the beginning. But even though she couldn't stand the sight of him, she believed John was instrumental in keeping the world safe and had begrudgingly agreed to help you protect him when she could.

"Not really my style. I prefer things more tangible, to the point. Besides, I don't need to worry about divination when I have you."

"You rarely do."

"Not by my choice, luv."

Your eyes flickered back to the empty glass in front of you and you had to take a very slow breath to try and steady yourself. His effect on you was too strong for you to be safe around him. Your job required a clear head - for both your sakes.

"A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks," you recited, steeling your voice as you averted his unspoken question the way you always did. "It wasn't that cryptic at all for once."

He didn't need to hear the other part. You could feel his eyes roaming your face, trying to figure you out, looking for something without fully knowing what. It was at times like these you missed your wings. Keeping secrets in a human body full of emotions and urges and reactions beyond your immediate control was frustrating at best. It was another reason you were better off keeping your distance.

After a while of searching your features, John sighed and gave up.

"Alright. So it's probably some kind of malevolent spirit then, wreaking havoc. Don't see why you're so worried luv, sounds like any other Tuesday to me."

The barkeep was close enough for you to signal for a refill to you both. He grunted something unintelligible, obviously not too keen on all the Brits suddenly hanging out in his pub. You made sure to send him a grateful smile as he filled your glasses, yours with sparkling water, John's with whisky.

"My weeks are all Mondays," you said and raised the glass to your lips; just as you had hoped, John did the same. "Did you get here in time to see the body?"

"Only after they moved it. Wasn't pretty..." He took another swig while staring at the wall with a distant glaze clouding his eyes that told you he wasn't seeing the wall at all. "Pathologist told me the man had been alive when 'is head was severed. The, er... the inscriptions..." John looked just as sickly green as the constable had done and very gently you put your hand on his shoulder. A small gesture of reassurance. "I'm tired," he whispered suddenly. He turned his head to look at you and your heart ached when you realised how glassy his eyes had become. "I am just so bloody tired. Demons, vampires, curses, spirits, the lot. No matter where I go, there're always more and people die, it never stops. Innocent people, good people... I just want a fucking break, but if I don't stop the darkness from spreading, who will?"

His voice was thin and on the verge of breaking entirely. You wanted nothing more than to lean forwards on the stool and put your arms around him, somehow make him know he wasn't alone, but the risk was too great. You were in too deep already.

"Sometimes I wonder whether it's all worth it..."

"Of course it's worth it, John," you said quietly, clenching his shoulder. "We do what we have to so they...," you gestured discreetly towards the patrons, ”they can go on living their lives and not... not know and see the things we do..."

"I know, luv, I know. I just... I want..." The gloom that was always lurking just below the surface of his existence was spilling into his eyes. He was weary to the bone, deep into his very soul. For a moment, you thought he was going to let the tears burst. "I risk my life every day and it's never bloody enough, is it? A man got his head carved off by some wretched spirit who should have been resting in peace. Fuckin’ Hell..."

He rubbed his eyes hard and you decided then what to do. You didn't like it one bit, but seeing John this worn down, well, you liked that even less. It meant you had been sleeping on the job.

As subtly as you could, you put your hand in your pocket and found the tiny zip-bag with a pinch of purple powder in it. It wasn't something you used often and it had never been meant for John, but you couldn't in good conscience let him go after a rogue spirit in his current state. While he emptied his glass again, you drizzled the powder into your hand and braced yourself.

"John, look at me. It's going to be alright. You are John Constantine and without you this world would have ended twelve times in the last decade, maybe more. And right now you are going to save this island, because that is what you do. So get off your sulking arse and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We have a job here. You're going to find that spirit and put it out of its misery before it hurts someone else, got it?"

He huffed, but even so raised his head and managed a small grateful smile at the reprimand.

"Yes. You're right. Thank you, luv. You always know what to say..." His eyes darted to your lips and for half a heartbeat, you did nothing, just sat there and waited for him to lean in the rest of the way and kiss you. It was far from the first time it had happened, but you still felt at war with yourself. There wasn't a single atom left in you anymore that didn't crave his affection. He was drunk and emotional and between the way he looked at you and the way there suddenly seemed to be less and less space separating your bodies, there was no doubt about his intention. It would be so easy just to finally give in and let it happen.

"Don't thank me."

Before he could lean back or ask you what you meant, you blew the purple powder straight into his face.

His eyes widened in shock, but his body immediately began to turn relaxed and pliant.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me...," he mumbled, but his gaze was already unfocused.

"I'm so sorry, John," you whispered, gently guiding his torso onto the bar.

He tried to say something more, but his words were slurred and within a few seconds, he was gone.

You had gotten the sleeping powder from a dealer in New Orleans, who had told you the effects would last at least four hours. They always oversold their stuff, but hopefully John would be out long enough for you to deal with the entire affair if you hurried up and took a few shortcuts. It was a messy solution, but then again, you hadn't planned on him being here. Desperate times and all that.

"He gonna be lying there all night?," the barkeep grumbled with a raised eyebrow at John when you hopped down from your stool. You put on the best smile you could manage under the circumstances and slid 50 quid across the counter.

"He'll come ‘round soon enough. If not, I'll be back for him in a few."

You practically fled the pub before he could ask you any more questions.

The road outside was deserted and you hoped no one was watching as you marched to the lonely phone box you had spotted earlier. It didn't look like anyone had used it in several years, but when you picked up the receiver the dial tone was there alright.

You took out a stained, battered playing card from the depths of one of your pockets (the seven of diamonds) and slid it into the credit card slot. You didn't own a mobile phone and neither did most of your acquaintances, but still you had memorised the few numbers you occasionally needed.

"Hey Chas, it's me," you said when the answering machine finally picked up. "I'm at the island with John and I haven't got much time. I don’t want to get John involved in this so I need to work fast. There's no need to worry, really, I've got it under control, but... just in case something unforeseen happens, uhm... if I don't call back in let's say ten hours, will you let John know where to find my body? He can't track me in his usual ways, so he'll need your help."

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What you were about to do was risky, maybe even reckless.

"I'm going to the beach where they found the dead man and work my way from there. If... if I don't succeed..." It was as if your throat was suddenly full of gravel. "Chas, please, just make sure John isn't the one to take on that spirit. He is not ready for that." Too late, you held the receiver away from your face while you tried to suppress a sniffle. So much for convincing Chas Chandler that you had things under control. Forcing your voice to even out, you continued. "I have to go. Just help him if I can’t, okay? And don’t worry too much. I’ll probably see you in a couple of days.”

Before you could say anything even more stupid, you hung up and slid your helpful seven of diamonds back into your coat. Handy little thing to have on you.

You left the phone box in the last light of day and made your way down to the beach. It took you twenty minutes to reach the cove and less than one to sneak under the police tape unseen. There were just two constables standing guard at the scene and they only looked when you wanted them to. For an active crime scene, the site was unusually quiet, but you attributed your luck to the dusk that made searching for clues almost impossible.

Of course, that went for you as well, you thought sourly as you carefully stepped around the little plastic numbers the police forensics had put up all over the little stretch of beach. You could make out the bloody piece of driftwood and the large dark spatter running down the stones where the corpse had lain, but nothing smaller than those. Even if the place was rather secluded, you didn’t dare light a torch with the uniforms standing idly guard so close by.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and concentrated.

The place was tingling with dark energy and it became clearer the more you felt around, using your own magic.

A spirit, just like you had anticipated. A lost soul preying on the living for… revenge? Yes, the bloody traces sang with the mad desire for vengeance that so often kept the dead from their rest.

Bloodshed, the thirst temporarily quenched. Then what?

The movements of the spirit became blurry after that no matter how hard you tried to focus. The leftover energy had been disturbed and mixed with the signatures of all the people who had been to the crime scene since the discovery of the body and it was impossible to make out without assistance, even for someone as experienced as you.

If you couldn’t locate the soul, you couldn’t send it packing.

Luring it via séance required more people and it was too risky for everyone involved anyway. Without its name, summoning it was out of the question as well.

You groaned when you realised what you had to do.

Making sure for the last time you couldn’t be seen from the line of police tape above you, you took off your backpack and dark raincoat and shoved both of them under the nearest rock. Next, you loosened your boots and sat them next to the backpack, then your thick scarf and woollen jumper. With short, angry movements, you rolled your trousers down and folded them hastily, ripped off your socks and wriggled out of your top.

“You’re so bloody lucky I love you, John,” you mumbled through clenched teeth that were starting to rattle in your skull. With fingers already numb from the cold, you unclasped your bra and slid down your underwear before you could change your mind, and with a deep breath, you stepped into the waves.

Even before you went into the sea, your body had been covered in goosebumps from the chilly October air, but the surfs rising around your legs now made you heave for breath with every step forward. The rocks under your feet were dull compared to the sharpness of the water. When it reached you mid-thigh you had to stop and wait for the pain to subside enough so that you could get further out. You were too close to the beach and the water was still too shallow for your purpose.

A tangle of seaweed drifted past your ankle, or at least you hoped it was just seaweed. It was hard to tell for sure in the dark.

Your submerged muscles were screaming as you forced yourself out until the water reached your ribs. If only that wretched spirit hadn’t chosen the middle of the bleeding autumn to throw its tantrum.

“Sacred Nanuet, your humble servant speaks to you,” you intoned through gritted teeth and held out your hands on either side of you so the gentle waves touched the palms of your hands. “She beseeches you; allow her the honour of sharing in your wisdom. Blessed goddess, lend her your sight and expand her understanding, your humble servant begs of you, great Nanuet…”

The ancient language you muttered your request in felt strange on your tongue as always, but your flattery worked. You could feel the magic start to sing under your hands and so you took a deep breath and lowered yourself completely into the sea.

The stranglehold of the freezing water somehow got pushed into the background of your conscience and within a beat of your heart your mind was alight with images. Through the water, you could see most of the world, but you focused on Raven’s Rock and the little beach behind you. The water had seen it all. From the depths of the ocean, it rolled onto the sand and sneaked its way under the island’s rocks, seeped into the soil and was drunk by the hungry roots of The Green, stretching into the light above ground…

It wasn’t long before you managed to zero in on the exact event you needed. The Sight of Nanuet allowed your mind to access the memory of the watery abyss, which included as good as all water on Earth and not a lot of people mastered navigating it anymore. You had been forced to use a lot of wordly magic since you lost your wings and so had learned to find what you needed relatively easy.

Through the Sight, you saw the murder of the man on the beach, how the spirit severed his head and lapped at the blood before turning away from the scene. It lost some of its shape then, but through the dewy grass above the cove and the moist air, you managed to follow it away from the beach and across the land.

The spirit held its physical form, or at least the overall contours of it, and it made it easier to trail. From what you could tell, it definitely had been human when it had been alive. Poor thing. If only it hadn’t gone and murdered someone, maybe you could have sent it to rest.

But would you even be there if it hadn’t?

When the spirit finally settled, you had followed it to an old, abandoned stone house with no windows and a door rotting away on the hinges. The place must have been a farm. There were several small outhouses scattered around the main building and indents in the earth marking former animal pens. The roof had been a thatched one, but now it was more moss than straw and what still remained beneath the heavy green patches had long since turned mouldy and dark. A few shards of glass jutted from some of the window frames like crude, predatory teeth waiting to chew up whoever was unfortunate or foolish enough to get close.

You went after the spirit through the remnants of the front door.

A voice in the back of your head told you it was enough, you should get out of the house and the Sight and the water. You had what you needed for now.

But the way the spirit slumped through the dark rooms and up a ramshackle staircase, as if it had done it a hundred times before, as if it belonged there in that house, intrigued you. It didn't match your original theory, the reason you didn't want John involved.

Curiosity piqued, you followed the lonely ghost up the stairs, where it turned left and went into a room with what had been two alcoves in the wall but were now mostly caved in. The room didn't have any windows and it was hard to make out the details, but the flimsy shape of the spirit trudged towards one of the beds and with motions as if the bedding had still been intact, it lay down and pulled the memory of a blanket over itself.

You slowly got closer, unsure of what to do. The visible shape of the ghost was gone now that it was no longer in motion and the general gloom of the empty house made it near impossible for you to see anything clearly. But the person the ghost had been once seemed so at home here. You couldn't feel any hostility from it at all, not even a trace. Only peace, comfort. Quiet.

This had been its home once when it had lived, you were almost certain of it.

But the desolate little stone house, out of the way even for the island's standard, must have stood abandoned for several decades, maybe even a century or two. If the ghost had lived here it was much older than you had initially thought.

Which meant you might have knocked John out for nothing.

Fuck.

You had to find out more and fast, but it was unlikely the memory of the house before your closed eyes would yield anything further. Even if it was dark and late in the evening, you would have to go there physically. The chances of finding something would be higher, and besides, you couldn't stay in the water forever. You were almost human, after all.

The thought had barely crossed your mind before the reflex to breathe kicked in and you could feel the freezing seawater rush down your throat. One inhale was all it took for your lungs to feel heavy as a pair of burning bricks. A fleeting realisation, that drowning was one of the most unpleasant sensations you’d had the misfortune of experiencing since losing your wings, faintly made it to the front of your perception before the back of your head hit the sand on the ocean floor. Then the only thing you could focus on was the pressure of the water and the way your body grew ever more numb…

The room still flickered before your eyes, slowly losing definition as you lost consciousness. Strange, you mused with your last bit of coherence, that an angel from Heaven should die looking up at it from so far below, in the cold embrace of the sea. It wasn't even painful anymore, the water, but oddly comforting, lulling you to rest, holding you tight.

The only regret you had was leaving John…

The last thing you saw before your eyes fell shut was his face above yours and a faint smile moved your lips. How very considerate of your mind to conjure up his image as the last thing you would ever see.

You could feel his arms around you even, fingers digging into your skin, his body pressed down against your own…

“Bloody fucking Hell, let her go!” The words didn’t make sense to you and they sounded so awfully far away. “She isn’t yours, you stupid paegan relic, let go of her! Let go!”

But you were, you were letting go, there was nothing more you could do.

“Christ, luv, which heathen tosspot did you enlist to drown you?! Yam, Ægir? Tiamat? Nanuet? Nanuet, isn’t it?” At the invocation of her name, you could feel the ancient goddess slacken her hold on you, as if in surprise, and you vaguely realised that the embrace you felt didn’t belong to her or the water, but to John. “Oh, you always were a fickle tart. Let go of this servant or so help me God, I, John Constantine, will destroy you and every last shrine still bearing your blasted name! Let her go!”

With a cry you weren’t sure was even coming from you, your face broke the surface of the waves. You violently coughed up seawater and if it weren’t for John’s arms, you would have fallen right back down into the deep. Your head was spinning. The numbness gave way to a cold so freezing you might as well have been rolling in needles. Everything hurt. Your legs felt unsteady, no, your entire body felt as if someone had replaced your bones with straw and your muscles with jelly.

“J-John…,” you coughed, but he shushed you, keeping you close to him in the water.

“I know, luv, it’s a bloody miracle you aren’t dead, you’re welcome for that. Now let’s get you out of the water, yeah?”

He was really there, drenched in the North Sea in the middle of October at what might as well have been the edge of the Earth, just to save you from drowning. His white shirt and black trousers clung to his frame like film and from what you could make out in the light from the moon, he was shuddering from the cold, too. You had never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

“I c-can’t m-m-move,” you got out through teeth rattling painfully in your skull, suddenly all too aware of your proximity and your own state of undress. As much as you wanted to cling to him for warmth, for closeness, the logical part of your muddled brain was screaming at you to keep your distance. That was what you did, wasn’t it?

“‘Course you can’t. How long were you under for, anyway? Completely off your rocker summoning a paegan goddess alone at night in the middle of the bloody ocean! What were you thinking?”

“I-I saw the g-ghost,” you weakly tried stammering through your clattering teeth. “Saw h-how it killed-ungh!”

You let out a groan as John swiftly picked you up and started carrying you towards shore. Your severely tested heart felt as though it might give out entirely. Never had you been reckless enough to let him touch you like this before, to let him hold you, as if you were a lover who would readily indulge in such intimacy. If it weren’t for the fact that you were very likely about to freeze to death, your cheeks would have been on fire. Every inch of your skin would have been scorching.

As it were, you were too cold and too exhausted for your body to produce that kind of heat. Surrendering to the fatigue in your bones, you allowed your head to rest against him and closed your eyes. He could carry you to shore or to Hell on his hands. You weren’t going to argue. For the first time in all your human life, you completely let your guard down.

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