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#but be warned either way
effervescentleaf · 3 months
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guys there is. So much voltron down there ⏬️
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savanir · 4 days
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DP x DC prompt [3]
during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!
But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.
Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.
But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.
Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.
he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.
now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.
far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.
“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 
“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”
there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.
“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.
“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”
“oh you simply must come visit!” 
well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?
things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.
their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.
but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.
There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?
Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.
Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 
He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.
so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.
It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.
it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere
Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 
And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.
Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?
He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.
he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.
Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.
If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 
Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.
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quaranmine · 1 year
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btw guys, you can do spoiler text on AO3! here's the html:
<details><summary>the text you want people to see</summary>The text you want to spoiler or hide</details>
it turns it into a little toggleable drop down that shows things and then hides them. it's great for content warnings in ao3 notes if you're worried about spoiling your fic--people who feel like they can proceed without any specific warnings can do so but people who want to see a warning or spoiler can choose to.
i tried it on firewatch au chapter three, it works:
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if that html doesn't work, then here's the reddit comment i got it from by an r/ao3 moderator and former ao3 staff memeber. I copied it from here and it worked perfectly, but it didn't paste into tumblr so I manually typed it.
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autisticandroids · 9 months
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FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.
[youtube with closed captions]
dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.
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(via @closetoyou1970)
#spn#vid#mind the warnings on this one for real#woe! fruit of my rewatch be upon ye.#pallas calls this my 'deangirl coming out vid' which honestly. true. but those who paid attention know i've always been a deangirl.#also. after this no more deanwinchester rilo kiley amvs I Pwomise#anyway. i'm not gonna give a full commentary here but a big reason why i chose this song is that the narrator#is essentially dismissing her own problems and instead watching the problems of someone else#and i kind of wanted to play with that theme. this is the parallels show so let's do some parallels. lots of things happen to characters#that are Like Dean somehow. either in personality or circumstance. that we know or can infer happen to him. but we don't see it bc it's#not sayable. not speakable. so like for an easy one. we see meg being tortured in caged heat. she also talks about apprenticing under#alastair just like dean. so i show her being tortured [in a way that is sexualized and demon-specific] and reacting how she does#because i invite the audience to imagine or interpret that this has also happened to dean at some point. we just don't see it#so there are many dean parallels in this video. some obvious. some subtle but textual. some products of my twisted mind. but that's the way#i am using them to make my argument.#oh also: dean voice sam's eyes going black is JUST like when he used to fight with dad and wouldn't listen to me when i told him not to.#i guess also the point is that because it's unsayable. dean can't say it. dean can't even acknowledge it. and so it bleeds through#into everything in his life#that's why it's important that the song narrator doesn't take her own problems seriously. dean doesn't either.
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kondietorei · 8 months
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"I thought I finally found a friend I could relate to."
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bietrofastimoff23 · 3 months
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she could have avoided the fate of being a jump rope for villains if she had just let tai lung leave right away.
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danger-warfare · 1 year
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" The stars came out to look at us. "
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" I hope they find us as pretty as they do. "
━─━────༺༻────━─━
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lonelysa1lor · 4 months
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tfw you accidentally time travel to when you and your brother weren't talking to each other and realise that he was doing so much worse than what he told you
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elizabethemerald · 1 year
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DP X DC Prompt: The New King's Fright Knight
Clockwork tells the newly crowned High King Phantom that he needs to name a Fright Knight to serve and protect him. The title comes with responsibilities and benefits. The Fright Knight must defend the King and fight challenges by the King's side. If a challenger can't defeat the King's Fright Knight than they have no right to challenge the King.
Among the benefits of the Title are a custom weapon that can take any form the Knight desires and is capable of sending any injured by the weapon to a dimension under the Knight's control and design. It could be a realm of nightmares or a realm of cotton candy, or anything in between as the Knight desires.
Danny, of course, being some what infamous for saying the first thing on his mind immediately blurts out a name when Clockwork asks him to think of the person who makes him feel the safest.
The newly named Fright Knight gets immediately summoned into the Ghost Zones to be offered the job, no matter where they were or what they were doing.
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nocasdatsgay · 1 month
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Sold
Pairing: Technically Lucien/Reader | Word Count: 1739| Rating M
Summary: Beron buys you for his sons. Specifically, Lucien
Warnings: Family sells reader off to the forest house, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, mildly descriptive sex. Brief physical abuse.
A/N: This is the first in a series where consorts are kept by Beron to keep his sons entertained. You are responsible for what you consume. Also IDK if anyone wants to be tagged so let me know. I am so scared of tagging people on iffy stuff that might be triggering.
Harlots of Autumn Master List | Read on AO3 |Part 1 of Harlots of Autumn
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The day you were presented to the court during a ball as an eligible female, was the day that sealed your fate. You were meant to secure a husband and elevate your family’s status just like your cousins. It was harder for you, not being of the Autumn Court. That didn’t mean you couldn’t try. You had begged your aunt and uncle to take you to the next ball and begrudgingly they did. You regretted it when you were watched like an Autumn Hawk by five of the seven Vanserra heirs.
The youngest- he was your age or possibly a little older. He seemed the least intimidating of them all. He didn’t pay you much mind, thankfully. Only chatted with you for a brief moment. You thought that was why his brothers were staring. But you still felt eyes on you as you worked the room, talking up males closer to your station than an Heir of the High Lord. You felt confident in your mingling by the end of the night. Until you went to leave and instead of immediately traveling home, you were pulled into a room by your uncle.
“The High Lord has made an offer for you.” He did not look you in the eyes.
“For me?” You frowned. Your aunt looked solemn and not meeting your gaze either. “What kind of offer?”
“You have to understand, dear. You’re getting older and with the new babe to raise- You’ll be well taken care of.” She said softly.
“I don’t understand.” You mind flashed to the way the heirs' eyes raked over you. How they sneered and watched you all night. “Am I, am I to be betrothed?”
“No. No, you won’t be married.”
You were more confused. “What did he offer you? What does he want with me?” You became more frightened the longer his silence went.
“Being an orphan and from another court, this was honestly the best choice.” Your aunt seemed to speak to herself instead of you.
“What did you do?” Your heart was racing, tears welling in your eyes.
Your uncle finally looked at you. His sadness was palpable.
“He gave us more land- more money than we know what to do with, in exchange for you. For his sons.”
“Sons?” Your were going to be sick. More tears clouded your vision. You knew exactly what that meant. “You gave me up to be a harlot? For some extra land and money?”
“You’ll be taken care of. You’ll be paid handsomely, and have your own money. You’ll be part of the court. It’s a life better than what a male of our station could ever-”
“But I will be a whore!” You cried out.
“You will be a mistress,” your uncle hissed. “This is not a brothel, you’ll be under the protection of the High Lord. You’ll still be able to see us-“
“As I would want to see you after this,” you hissed in return.
He back-handed you for it. You stumbled and cradled your cheek.
“He wants you for his youngest first,” your uncle continued, glaring at you. “You’re lucky he doesn’t want you for himself. If you’re smart you just might become the youngest son’s wife.”
“A whore never becomes a wife,” you whispered.
“This is not a debate. We will go home and pack your things. They want you back here by tomorrow afternoon.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You wondered if you could die of shame.
Walking into the Forest House the next day, your aunt made you hold your head high despite your fate. You were ushered down the halls to the infirmary to meet with the healer. Thankfully the healer was female. You were in good health. You held your breath as the female went under your skirts and checked you. You had declined male advances your whole life, waiting like a good female for a husband.
Obviously that got you far.
That evening you were led to a room and bathed by servants. The pine green dress they gave you to put on was worth more than months wages in the village, judging by the fabric. They styled your hair and you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror. More servants brought you food and then finally you were left alone. You couldn’t eat, nausea from nerves rolling your stomach. You wanted to rage; to cry. You knew your aunt and uncle didn’t love you- not when you were the cause of your mother’s death during childbirth. But you never thought they would sell you.
The door opened, jolting you from your thoughts. The kind male you spoke with briefly last night came in. He was just as lovely as the night before; dressed down in a white tunic and brown trousers. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his kind eyes. You stood and curtsied.
“Lord Lucien,” she stared at the floor.
You introduced yourself and stumbled over the title of lady. You didn’t know if you could call yourself a lady now.
“I remember,” he replied softly.
You dared to look up, your eyes meeting his sad russet ones.
“Shall we get this over with?” You glanced at the bed in the room, twisting your hands together.
Lucien scoffed. “We don’t have to do this.”
You frowned, fear flipped your stomach. “They will check me.”
“There are ways around that,” Lucien replied flippantly.
You started to panic.
“Lord Lucien, if you are as kind of a male as you seem, please allow me this comfort.” You pleaded. “I- you seem like you’d be more gentle than your brothers.” You were met with silence. “Please? I don’t want to force you but I also don’t-“ you couldn’t say it.
If he didn’t take your maidenhood, one of the other males would. You doubted they cared whether or not they hurt you badly. Lucien sighed heavily; you wonder if he was realizing the same thing.
“Promise me you will tell me if I hurt you.” You nodded. “Can I undress you?”
“Yes.” Your face heated against your will.
“Turn around. I’ll only take off your dress, then you can get on the bed.”
You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves and turned to face away from him. You heard his footsteps; he stopped behind you and gently brushed back your hair. Goosebumps cascaded down your arms, and he slowly dragged his fingers down your neck to where your dress ties started on your back.
“Oh you’re a devil,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself.
He chuckled behind you. “I want to make it good for you, is that not what you asked for?”
“I suppose I did.”
He undid the ties to your dress, the front of it falling forward. You held the fabric close to your chest instead of letting it fall out of instinct. Lucien ran a warm finger up your spine. He leaned in close and you tense your shoulders.
“Drop the dress and get on the bed.” His warm breath fanned along your ear and neck.
Reluctantly, you obliged. The bed was soft, better than the one in the place you once called home. The duvet was a forest green with white sheets underneath. You shuddered at how those sheets would be stained by the end of this. You covered your chest with your arms and sat at the head of the bed.
“Don’t be so shy,” he grinned wickedly at you as he tugged off his shirt.
Your eyes went to his chest, then downward to his trousers before quickly you looked back to his eyes. It felt like your whole face was flushed. He crawled up the bed to you and you could smell his scent sweeten with arousal. He looked like it would eat you alive, the way he grinned at you.
“Lay back, let me see you.” He groaned when you moved your arms, revealing your breasts. “You are a pretty one.”
He pushed you back and crawled over you. You were correct about his gentleness. He was so careful with you, asking you constantly if it was okay to touch you or if it hurt. Lucien coaxed you into relaxing by kissing you gently and then moving down to take your breast in his mouth. He had you squirming under him, your hips rolling against his and his hard cock in his trousers. Lucien moved down further and made you come on his tongue and fingers before he took you with his cock. Then he made you come again with him.
Good was an understatement of how you felt. You didn’t come to your senses until he moved off of you. Then you felt too naked, cold from his lack of body heat over you. You moved to get out of the bed, to grab the dress from earlier, if only to cover yourself before the healers came. You looked back at the sheets and gasped. Lucien was lying on the other side of the bed, arm over his eyes to block out the light. He lifted his arm to look at you.
“Are you all right?”
“The sheets,” you grabbed the dress off the floor to cover yourself. “They’re clean.”
”I don’t know about that. I know I broke a sweat getting that second one out of you.” Lucien grinned at you. “You were pretty wet for me too when I finally fucked you. I’m sure that’s on the sheets as well.”
“There’s no blood, Lucien,” you scowled, cheeks flushing at his blatant crudeness.
He laughed. “Females only bleed when a male doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
”But the healer-“
”Edith won’t care, I promise.” He sat up and looked over the bed for his own clothes. “Let me go get her, I’m sure she’s ready to be done with this as we are.”
Regrettably, that was the first and only time you went to bed with Lucien. You had assumed before that night that you were sent to take his own first time but Lucien was far too experienced for that to be the case. You later found out the real reason you were given to him was because of his dalliance with lesser fae. As crudely put by one of the brothers, they “assumed a high fae cunt would change his mind.”
It didn’t; and a few years later a poor female paid the price for it. You wouldn’t see Lucien again after that for another century.
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thenewgirl76 · 6 months
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Do not Disturb, Or ELSE
Inspired by this interestingly humorous post
Danny as the living/unliving embodiment of the "don't wake the sleeper" trope.
While this works with just regular ole Danny, I've decided to throw in both Ghost King Phantom and Constantine and Zatanna as his bio parents.
As Amity's sole major hero, a struggling high-schooler, and last but not least the Fenton's and GIW's biggest sought after prize capture Danny's already dealing with a colossal amount of pressure and rarely has the time to get the proper shut eye.
Throw in his fairly new status as ghost king, and you end up with a massively stressed and cranky sleep deprived teenager that oftentimes reacts rather violently if you dare to wake him prematurely.
Constantine and Zatanna know this all too well, having gotten a front row seat to the mayor getting viciously maimed by this scrawny boy(?) after being abruptly aroused from his nap while looking into the excess death energy surrounding Amity. Which is why after finding out this powerful yet somehow familiar entity was both the usurper of Pariah Dark's throne and their long lost son they agreed to keep it all hush hush. No need to risk a possible bad first impression with the Justice League as well as further hinder their kid's chances of getting more sleep after all.
All is reasonably well until Con and Z fail to stop the newest in a string of cult gatherings attempts to summon the ghost king and have no choice but to get the rest of the JL involved. Suffice to say, their hands are quite full trying to convince the League that the child they just witnessed not only transform into an eldritch abomination then literally maul every last one of the cultists in anger and frustration over being rudely awakened, but also take seemingly forever for them to calm down isn't a ginormous threat that must be closely monitored.
It certainly doesn't help matters when Danny threatens to remove a vital organ from the next person that wakes him up before cuddling up to his mom and dad and going back to sleep.
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bongo-clash · 2 years
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Peacock Au Part 1
Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:
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And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)
There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place. 
Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed. 
Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem. 
There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood. 
…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually. 
But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book. 
His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try. 
And then, the entity begins to form. 
Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point. 
The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility. 
“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”
Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”
“The pits. There are many pits.”
God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”
“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed. 
“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
“…Will you fix it?”
The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling. 
A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”
“Uh… cheers?”
“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”
This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”
“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”
He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”
“I know of your Bat.” 
Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”
And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is. 
And he owes it a favour. 
Crap. 
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theaceace · 7 months
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Though Roderick and his followers didn't realise it at the time, the magic in the circle and the glass orb meant that the only people who could see Dream were the ones that were there when he was summoned, so as far as the guards are concerned they're guarding an empty glass sphere that a delusional old man thinks holds something. And then of course, Hob gets hired as a guard and it's dealer's choice if Dream has realised by then that no one but Burgess and his Order can see him.
But then because Hob is sort of aware that magic and esoteric things do exist, he sees Burgess (sr or jr) talking to the globe and is like, huh. Maybe there is something in there. But maybe it's a demon like the rumours say and I shouldn't let it out. But Hob starts talking to Dream anyway while the other guard takes longer and longer smoke breaks.
Whichever Burgess is around at the time realises that there must be something about this guard, because the next time he comes down to yell/bargain/threaten, Dream has moved. He's hidden his face, there are handprints against the glass, and the dreamlord's shoulders are shaking.
It doesn't take him long to figure out the pattern - that this only happens around Robert, for whatever reason, and the man himself has no notion of what's in the circle - and eventually he sends the guards out so that he can tell Dream exactly what he'll do to this Robert if Dream doesn't comply. That he may not understand what it is about this one man that compels one of the Endless so, when he has been so unaffected by everything else but the death of his familiar, but that doesn't matter. He will find out, and he will leverage it, however he needs to.
He turns and leaves, and basically I want Hob to wander back in none the wiser and settle into his chair and his usual routine of talking all moony eyed about his stranger, while Dream is roaring his fear and fury and beating his fists bloody against the glass
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glittergroovy · 17 days
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jules-al-c · 4 months
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Chester's first statement: This is what happened to someone who let their curiosity override the clear danger signs of what they're getting into. This is a warning not to go further. Do you understand? Will you heed my warning? You are not safe here.
Chester's second statement: Perhaps you DON'T understand! Ok. So allow me to reiterate: THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED TO SOMEONE WHO LET THEIR CURIOSITY OVERRIDE THE CLEAR DANGER SIGNS OF WHAT THEY'RE GETTING INTO! This time with danger signs that are even clearer. There's still time for you to turn away from this. You don't have to end up like that horror blogger. End up like redcanary. Or like me.
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chryblossomjjk · 2 months
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