#Constantine is sure it doesn't worth it

[nelkcats]

Ghost children and the worthless treaty

The DC dimension had faced multiple dangers: invasions, threats, multiple ends of the world, demons. And yet what finally defeated the heroes were children.

The Ghost King was the one who took care of the children for the most part (because he understood them). Which was a terrible idea considering he was a teenager himself and all of his knowledge was pretty skewed towards his own children. Another thing to take into account: his two children were 24 and 14 years old (but not really? He said it was complicated)

So when the Justice League finally contacted him about establishing an alliance, the king gave them a test, that if they completed it they would establish a peaceful alliance immediately and he would owe them a favor. Danny didn't mind making alliances but he needed a few days off from his own children.

When they heard of the test, the heroes accepted, trusting in his abilities. Take care of children? Piece of cake, they had Young Justice and it wouldn't be much different. The king smiled with all his fangs and told them to take care of his children's friends as well. To which Constantine had a horrible premonition.

The League did not expect the problem that would be keeping "Dan and Dani" Phantom in check. Along with Youngblood and Klemper. The four of them much preferred Danny's care, and were not at all thrilled with the situation.

The appearance of the ghostly "teenagers" didn't make it any better, and Batman began to question if it was worth it. Dan Phantom claimed that it could be worse, since he was technically "grounded" and couldn't hurt anyone. Dani teased him about it.

Constantine knew it wasn't worth it.

#dpxdc #ghost king danny #who gave kids to a teenager #and worse #who gave ghost kids and ghost teenagers to the same teen #The JL don't know what they got themselves into #dan phantom #he is a menace #danielle phantom #she is a menace too #Danny will make the treaty anyways #he just want some days off from being a parent #Kings need to sleep too #Constantine is sure it doesn't worth it #dp x dc #dc x dp #Youngblood is having fun #Klemper will give a lot of hugs #Babysitters JL #They are not prepared #Ghost teenagers will appear too just to cause some trouble

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

#dc x dp #justice league #justice league dark #danny phantom #zatanna #raven #john constantine #no ships #writing #brain child #I wrote this instead of working on any of my current wips #justice league meeting #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dcxdpdabbles #fanfic #fandom #phandom #danny is having a crisis #no more caffeine yet #batfam #the batfam do not know how to approach someone normally #especially when they're in costume #the house of mystery #the house of mysteries is a little shit #the supers can't hear through magic because they're weak to magic #secret identity #secret identities #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

[ghostreblogging]

Omg like I had this dream about it yesterday. So what if batfam decided nope we're gonna ghost proof this house. And in the way they did it, they didn't use blood blossoms, ectoranium etc (blood blossoms are extinct and hard to find in large quantities and ectoranium is a space metal that nobody knows exist yet or confused with kryptonite) They used magic, so it's little less noticable.

And Tim decides to Invite his new friend over, aka Danny Fenton . Said friend refuses to touch anything while there. He wouldn't sit, eat food, or touch any of the occupants. And when he finally accidentally touches something, the spell works and he is captured with glowing chains or straight up thrown back into the infinite realms.

Danny finally has time for normal teenager shit. He managed slowly go through the bureaucratic shithole that is the infinite realms politics and he managed to come out with his sanity intact. Phantom is no longer a menace but a hero that tragically gave himself up to seal all of the Infinite realms (that is kinda true he did go through a nightmare to make sure ghosts didn't attack the living world and had to do the equivalent of centuries worth of paperwork to do that.)

And all things considered ghosts are a thing of the past for most people. ( He hopes that the ones he allows through keep their oaths and stay hidden)

And he can finally be a normal teenager again, albeit in Gotham of all places. But the death in the city masks his more inhuman traits and he really didn't wanna go through another paper work stuff to register himself as a meta without the meta gene, he would have to do that later though.

But he can do that later, he's on a vacation and he's not doing that.

-_-_-_-

He is standing in the doorway. People around him are getting their umbrellas and sadly he doesn't have one. He was debating internally if he should just go or go back to the lost and found for an umbrella.

He was waiting for Tim as he agreed to come for dinner. The car ride to the Wayne manor was calm, filled with few words.

All changed when he came to find the whole manor was covered in intricate magical circles and traps. He saw atleast few that straight up sent him to the dark parts of the realms and he didn't want to touch that. And as much as he wanted to straight up escape, Tim had been asking for multiple days.

So as much as he wanted to flee, his social skills are shit and he didn't want to risk the awkwardness afterwards.

So he tried his best. Didn't touch the ground floated slightly above it, didn't touch the furnitures cuz apparently it was considered part of the house, couldn't touch the walls. Couldn't even touch the residents before setting the alarms off.

He thinks he pulled it off. Of course he pulled it off everything was going smoothly and he just has to make sure he has everyone in the room in his sights and float a bit. Well until the actual dinner. He couldn't touch the food and he looked quite akward so much so Tim whispers to him.

"You okay? You aren't touching your food."

"Oh I'm okay, it's just-" before he could even start with his sorrowful excuses, someone someone grabs his arm, again it wouldn't have been a problem too it would only raise the alarm, until he is pushed down into the chair thus triggering multiple traps .

Big golden chains appear and he is arleady out of the chair by then. He opens a window and turns to say sorry but he accidentally trips over another trap and is pulled into the realms. He should probably cross Tim out of his list of friends.

-_-_-_-

Tim's friend just fell through a portal, should probably call Constantine about that.

Dick was the first one to speak up after the silence that incued.

"Did we just banish Tim's new friend to the shadow realm?"

"Wait why did he trigger the alarm? He didn't seem all that ghostly, was he like Jason"

"Probably. We probably won't see him again, do we just. . . Push the blame onto Constantine?"

" We are heroes-"

"And how the heck are we supposed to enter the realms anyway? And escape! Constantine greatly expressed that portal was one way only"

*Tommorow*

They see Danny just waltzing through Gotham and they pull him aside.

"What the fuck. You got pulled into the shadow realm yesterday! How do you even trigger the alarms"

Danny who arleady went through the five stages of denial and how tf am I gonna explain "oh you see i am a warlock of....uhhhh

I didn't think this far

OH PHANTOM. THE GREAT PHANTOM"

And after a very stressful meeting with batman and the entire JL dark members cuz apparently his alter ego became a big deal without his agreement.

Where he

Had to speed learn how to create duplicates

Had to fight off a few ghost lawyers cuz they wanted to be a part of "the very important meeting of importance"

Got asked to do magic (he's still learning okay?)

He panicked tried to sell one of his powers as a spell or him just having the copy of his patrons power.

More people got worried about him supposedly creating a contract with a very powerful new unknown diety

Got into the JL dark as a warlock

People apparently trusts him now???? As FENTON??????

Apperantly showing off weaker version of patrons power was a bad idea cuz he greatly overestimated the power limit.

He is a powerful warlock of a powerful "demon"?

WHAT THE FUCK DO U MEAN I- MY PATRON IS NOT A DEMON

"so what is he"

Uhhhhhh a guardian spirit?

Uunhuun soo it's phantom right.?? Leme do some research

WHAT DO U MEAN PHANTOM IS APPARENTLY A GOD AND IS KNOWN GLOBALY FOR BEING THE GOD OF HEROES??

Wait . . . . Clockwork. Oh my god.

Now he is the number one call up magic person for the bats now.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #danny phantom au #is this done yet? #danny phantom crossover #batman #dc x dp

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 21 - "Just in case this doesn't work."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Inspired by this Post about Danny bullshiting his way by saying he is Tims future kid. Also once again posting this early, cause I need to destress tomorrow and not worry about writing or work or anything.

Edit: Thanks to @kisatamao in the comments I found the post again that inspired this and linked it!

"Chronus"

"Nowadays I go by Clockwork."

"Fine, Clockwork then."

"John Constantine."

The Ancient of Time and Justice League Dark members stared at each other blankly. Until the ruler of time smiled and Constantine sighed. "How is the time baby doing?"

"Very well. Your timeline is safe. There was an incident that could have possibly splittend the timeline again and in a way it did but the destruction timeline was once more prevented, by the child himself like I hoped for. Three times now."

Constantine grunted, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You know if Bats or any of his kids ever learn about this I will be the one to take the burn right?"

Clockwork only smiled a knowing smile and Constantine paled. "When?"

"Where is the fun if you knew. The little Drake has been quite unpredictable and entertaining." The Ancient mused floating around the room and Constantine's eyes narrowed.

"There won't be a paradox?"

Clockworks tilted his head with a mischievous smile on his face. "Well the timeline in which he was born no longer exists and his father of this time line has ceased his efforts in cloning. He never even got to the point of trying to combine his own DNA with the one he so desperately wanted to clone."

"I feel like I am hearing secrets I definitely do not want to know. Just tell me if this timeline is safe or not now."

"It is safe. Your timeline has now a true Ancient of Balance in the making and just in case this doesn't work, I have anchored Daniel's existence in this timeline with several means one of which was his own time clone created from a split of destruction line."

Constantine's eyes twitched. "For all of our sakes I hope Bats never finds out about this. If he ever learns that I replaced a still born with a grandson of his from a different destruction timeline… You know what, I am not nearly drunk enough for any of this mate!"

Clockwork chuckled, his eyes glinting with unhidden amusement. "Well John Constantine, would you like a word of advice?"

The JLD member took another long drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt of it somewhere to the side. "No riddle."

"When 17 turns to 4 it is not the grandfathers, you should fear."

"I said no riddles!" Constantine huffed as clockwork disappeared from his side. He brushed his hair with one hand, glaring at the spot where the Ancient of Time had been. He should have never agreed to help that damned being 15 years ago, having been somewhat of a beginner then John did not realize what kind of deal he had agreed on.

Now he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or fearful of the consequences. Especially now that he had worked with the Bat Family a couple of times already.

Exactly one year later Constantine decided he was fucking fearful!

Unknown to the Brite a lot of things can happen in three years. Like Parents turning on their child after accidentally learning about a truth. A teenager that was already hurt trying to salvage whatever peace he could.

—--

"Mom! Dad! I swear it's still me, Danny!"

"Give me back my baby boy you monster!"

—--

A governmental organisation committing mass genocide on an interdimensional species.

—--

"Ember, get out of here! Now!"

"Baby Pop! What about the others?!"

"Dan already released them! Get out of here! I will hold them off and keep them busy!"

—----

The interdimensional species try to convince said teenager fighting for them to forgo humanity.

—--

"Welp, this can't go on. No hunt is worth this much."

"Give it up already. The humans made their decision."

"They broke too many rules, it is time they suffer the consequences."

—--

A heavy conflicted ending with the teenager receding into its core and getting picked up by one of his papa from a different timeline.

—--

"What kind of crystal is that? It radiates a pretty strange but familiar energy."

"I wanna see! I wanna see!"

"If it's not dangerous, why not keep it?"

"It looks like there are snowflakes in it."

—--

The kid then reformed out of his core in his ghost age instead of human age with a green note appearing on his forehead. Said note confusing the kids papa making him contact the kids dad.

—--

"Tim you won't believe this…"

"Kon you sound weird, what is going on?"

"Remember that shiny crystal I picked up at the end of our last case?"

"The one with the snowflakes in it, yes."

"I think I just became a dad."

"WHAT?!"

—--

Which then led to the dad overanalyzing the note while the kid insisted that a certain ghost was involved. The child's grandparents then getting tipped off through the grandchild of the Ancient Constantine still curses in his mind.

—--

"So Pandora mentioned something to me."

"Hn."

"Have you tried asking Constantine about it? He is apparently in contact with a being that likes to write cryptic messages on green notes, or that's what Pandora told me at least."

"..."

"And your new grandchild came with such a note right?"

—--

And now John Constantine was fearing for his life, because Batman had tried to contact him several times now. Several times Constantine had found reasons to ignore. Only for the Bat to come knocking on his door -well more like rudely kicking it down- with fucking Super too! He was cursing up a storm internally and thinking of how best he could get out of whatever had crawled up the two hero's asses when right behind the two hero's stood another set of hero's he did not want to face especially when he noticed one of them holding a four years old toddler in his arms.

"Chronus you fucking asshole!" The Brite muttered to himself as the four hero's plus time baby stood before him demanding answers.

That was when the toddler piped up, eyes glowing a bright green. "So Clockwork does have something to do with this! I knew it!"

"Danny, sweetheart not now. You can tell us you were right after we figured out what timeline you are from and if we need to send you back or can keep you." Red Robin calmed the now pouting toddler Super Boy was holding and petting with a small chuckle. While Batman and Superman turned on Constantine.

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #tim drake #conner kent #clone Danny #Tim is Danny's dad #Kon is his papa #Clockwork took danny from his original timeline #and placed him in his favorite to save it #Danny was born in a doomed timeline #one were Tim went a little to far over the edge #Constantine helped Clockwork bringing Danny into his timeline #He fears Batman and Superman because of that #He should probably fear Tim more #Tim and Conner are protective parents #they want to keep Danny #But they had to make sure he can stay safely in their timeline #they would have found a way to keep him anyway #even if clockwork didn't ensure it in the first place

[wolfjackle-creates]

Oooooh, I love the wip ask game!! You know I'm a fiend for your Answer My Call fic, but... Danny is Vlark's Nephew is calling to me, that sounds like so much fun!

Look out tomorrow night (after 9 pm EST) for Answer My Call! Can you tell how much fun I'm having since this chapter takes place in Boston?

As for Danny is Clark's Nephew. I actually kinda forgot all about this one until I was looking through my "Prompt fills" document. And I followed the link I saved and what I wrote doesn't match it at all? So idk if I saved the wrong link or if I just took the barest bones and went in a totally new direction.

Here's the first 350ish words.

-----

Danny was practically vibrating as he followed Constantine through a random junk yard in Chicago and into a shed. He was going to meet the Justice League! And possibly join them! Totally worth the months he’d spent gathering every piece of John Constantine’s soul.

“All right, your highness. This is the Zeta Tube. They’re expectin’ us. After I make this introduction, we’re even, right? You’re not gonna demand anything else from me?”

“Nope! Your soul back for the chance to meet the Justice League with the potential of joining them. You’ve given them the files I sent you, right?”

“Course. Wouldn’t dream of reneging on a deal with the Ghost Prince.”

Danny laughed. “Sure you would.” Before Constantine could protest, Danny continued, “Now, how does this thing work?”

“You just stand right there. I’ll take care of it.”

Unfortunately, Constantine stood in a way that prevented him from seeing what he did. But then it didn’t matter because the room was filled with a strange energy that bombarded him. It tickled. Danny laughed even as the world spun away from him and reality shifted.

When everything came into focus around him again, he was facing a group of people. But his eyes focused on just one. Someone was talking, but Danny could only stare into equally shocked blue eyes.

“—om. Prince Phantom!” Constantine’s hiss finally got through the ringing in his ears.

Danny looked over at the wizard, but then he heard that clearing of the throat. He looked back at the group that had come to greet him. And there was Uncle Clark, dressed as Superman, standing with his arms crossed, foot tapping, and one eyebrow raised.

“I’m waiting for an explanation,” he said as soon as Danny met his eyes.

Danny opened his mouth. Closed it again. Swallowed. “Um…”

And then Constantine was talking again, thank the Ancients. “Superman, this is Prince Phantom, Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, defeater of Pariah Dark, defender of—”

“Not you, Constantine.” Uncle Clark continued to stare straight at Danny. “I got a Christmas card from your parents just three months ago. I spoke to you on the phone last month on your sister’s birthday. You were alive then. Why do you suddenly not have a heartbeat.”

#dpxdc #clark kent #danny fenton #john constantine #ask game #danny is clark's nephew #and he's not impressed to see his supposed-to-be-alive nephew #at constantine's side #introduced as the *ghost* prince

[questing-wulfstan]

Listen, I can't blame y'all when His Excellence Neil Gaiman hisself compared it to Dream walking out on his date with Hob to hit it off with Shaxberd upon learning about Eleanor and Robyn, but I feel like fixating on this interpretation only of the scene is a disservice to Morpheus' overall characterisation over the season.

Have you noticed how Hob calls "his friend" over to his table and that doesn't phase Morpheus at all then Dream doesn't even ask him whether he still wants to live before putting an end to their meeting ? It's unexpected from someone otherwise so strict and set on protocols ー even when he storms out in 1889, he already had Hob's answer to that question. Yet he leaves 1589 Hob without having formally asked the one question that justifies their centennial meetings.

That is because Dream knows, oh he knows what Hob's Heaven is like. He's had a wife and a son of his own once, and he knew what eternity by their side would be like, once. And he knows Hob has everything but Death on his mind then. He also knows ー or so he thinks ー what Hob's answer will be the next century. For Hob Gadling alone was granted immortality, not Eleanor, nor Robyn. And Morpheus knows what outliving one's son is like.

Morpheus' work in this tavern of the White Horse is done, but he's also taken back to the most traumatic event of his existence, one he won't recover from in two millennia and he can't look Hob in the eyes anymore, he needs a distraction, something, anything but having to confront his revenant grief. And there's that playwright loudly willing to strike a bargain with higher entities for the ability to create timeless dreams for humanity and there's his distraction, there's an escape ...

Comes 1689, Morpheus is certain of the outcome of this meeting. Sure, it will have taken the bugger three time the hundred years Dream had predicted Death, but no matter because it is true : nobody can bear an endless existence.

Then Morpheus learns about not only the expected death of Hob's son, but that it happened much earlier than it should have, devoid of a fulfilling lifetime for Robyn and of psychological preparation for Hob. Scythed in the prime of life, much like Orpheus. And within a close time frame to his wife's departure, too. Hob is holding up a mirror to Morpheus' own misery and the King of Dreams finds himself on the verge of tears. He is no longer smug as he offers Hob what he thinks of as an eventual relief.

Yet ... Hob doesn't take it. Somehow, somewhere, Hob Gadling finds it in himself to resist the tragedy of his life, to chose tomorrow, to decide that whatever the future holds, it is worth being there to see it.

And that is really when something kindles within Morpheus. No longer mere curiosity but a devouring fascination for Hob Gadling, his hopefulness and his resilience. He latches onto that man who shares his misery yet seem to have overcome it, or anyhow accommodated himself to it.

And when they meet again in 1789, and fortune has smiled upon Hob Gadling once again, Morpheus is much more open, much more attentive, much more interested. Who knows if he might not have given Hob his name even, hadn't lady Johanna Constantine interrupted him ?

By all means, Morpheus doesn't process their blooming bond. He's the anthropomorphic incarnation of the human or really, the living unconscious : there are numerous things passing through his mind at all time that he does not process. To him, he's merely monitoring the puzzling glitch that is Robert Gadling's will to live still, and waiting for him to eventually, inevitably renounce his immortality.

So when another century has passed and Hob asserts that their meetings are unnecessary for he won't ever renounce being alive but proposes his friendship, Morpheus is left reeling, faced with how much he has in common with this 'mortal' and his envy for Hob's resilience and capacity to forge ahead.

Naturally he takes flight and makes for an escape, lest he finds himself ensnared by his own grief ...

#sandman #netflix the sandman #dreamling #morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #hob x morpheus #hob x dream #this is such a mess does it even makes sense ?? #anywho I've spent way too long writing this out #meta #which admittedly slid towards poetic flourish but meta nonetheless #sandman meta #userlyde

[97keanu]

Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. In this part, reader chooses to embrace one of her destinies, healing the past and becoming whole again. She uses her new found self to save someone who didn't even know he needed saving, but the path there is laid with pain and darkness. She becomes something she never thought she would, and she finds out if evil vampires can really be saved or not...

Tags/CW: DARKfic, horrorfic, vampire!John Wick, blood/violence, soul connections, past lives, reincarnation, ghosts, supernatural AU, witch!neo, slayer!Constantine, love triangle is concluded, blood drinking, virgin!reader, smut, p in v, enemies to lovers, dub/noncon, innocent/crybaby(ish) coded!reader, john is an evil vampire asshole, soon to be cock addicted!reader, semi "stockholm syndrome"!reader, reader who discovers her bad side, reader who gives into lust, hedonistic!reader, doggy, rough, aggressive, primal, oral (f receiving.), so many smutty scenes.

A/N: In this choice, you will have to give up a lot to find love, but is it worth it in the end?

Go back.

"I have always felt as if I were missing something." You say, and Neo looks at you with worry, but nods, listening.

"Neo, I need you to stop the barrier between me and Helen." You can't believe you're saying this, but you know it's what you want.

Neo doesn't say anything for a long time, and you worry he won't do this for you.

"Are you sure that's what you really want?" You can hear the sadness in his voice. "He won't stop hunting you if you do this."

"I know." You say plainly, but bite your lip anxiously. A part of you knows that this isn't the safe decision. But you also know you haven't stopped thinking about that night, the way John's body pinned you to the wall. Temptation continued to knock at your door.

"I just have this feeling about it, and I...I have to do this." You assure yourself, trying to will being right about this.

You're worried he won't understand, but Neo sighs and takes a cigarette from behind his ear, lighting it up and nodding.

"If that's what you really want, I'll do it. But there's no reversing it when it's done." Smoke seeps from his lips as he talks, finally billowing out with a long breath when he's done.

You think for a moment. Do you really want to give up everything to become whole with your past self? Is she even really you, or have you experienced things so differently that you've become two separate beings, still forced together by fate? And if so, why would fate keep cycling you together?

More importantly, you know this is just a way to get close to John in the end. You know he's no good, that there is so little light in him, but you want him all the same. You wonder if those feelings are even yours or Helen's, but in the end, it won't matter.

You decide that there's only one way to find out, and you look back into Neo's warm brown eyes and nod.

"I have to know. I can't go on being in this purgatory between myself and her." Neo says nothing and stands, pouring a cup of black coffee from a dirty little pot in the corner of his room.

"Alright, but it's going to be a long night," he takes a deep sip of the coffee. "And it's likely to hurt."

You take a breath, and calm yourself, readying for anything.

"Let's do it." You affirm, and your hands clench nervously.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Neo moves a dirty, dusty rug from the center of his room. The concrete beneath it has been used for many rituals, stains and etching here and there. He draws in the summoning circle, writing it there with chalk and herbs. He carefully transcribes sigils from his own spellbook, making sure to work carefully, but efficiently.

"I don't think Constantine will take the news well," he calls over his shoulder while he works, and you sit on a rickety little stool he scrounged up.

"I know," you hate thinking about it, so you try to push Constantine from your mind right now. "But he can't make my life choices for me."

And it's true. As much as you owe him for saving your life, and as much as you love him as a friend, maybe even something more at one time, you can't let his wants come before what you feel deep inside your heart.

You know the vampire John Wick is evil, years of grief can do that to anyone, but you also believe that there's a way to get past that. And you can't deny it any longer, the way he's touched you, body, mind and soul, is something you feel you've been waiting your whole life for. You feel the need to at least try, if not, at least maybe with your soul merged with Helen's once and for all, you feel complete for the first time.

You bite the inside of your cheek nervously as Neo continues to finish the first part of the ritual, and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to internally call out to Helen, if that's possible.

Minutes pass and all you hear is your own soft breath, and Neo's quiet muttering and movements on the concrete.

Then, something stirs in your chest, and you hear her.

"Please, save him if you can, I hate to see John suffering from being a man he would despise..."

You nod to yourself, feeling more affirmed in your decision.

You try to focus on calming breaths until Neo is ready for you.

Soon enough, you're sat on the dusty, cold floor of Neo's apartment, lines of chalk and fancy ritual symbols encompassing you. The smell of incense fills your lungs and Neo walks carefully over the chalk to anoit your forehead, eyes, and heart with an oil that tingles when it touches your skin. He finishes by lighting candles that encircle you, and he begins the ritual.

"I want you to focus on the parts of you that are Helen, and I want you to welcome those parts into your own being." he pauses and looks you in the eye with an emotion you cannot place. "You may see things, hear things, feel things that you cannot explain, and it may be painful, but you will work through it. I believe in you."

Somehow, it helps that no matter what, Neo supports your choice and is on your side. You're grateful for his neutrality and assistance.

You let him know you're ready to begin, and Neo starts speaking in a language you're unfamiliar with.

You close your eyes and try to imagine what he said.

You think about your first meeting with John Wick, and how even though you were so fearful, his touch was something your body yearned for. How electric it felt, how those emotions might have been Helen calling out to him, but you're also sure that it was apart of you that desired him as well. You've been so chaste all your life, and you know that you've longed for someone to ignite that kind of passion inside of you.

You welcome that desire, that yearning, that want. And you feel your heart swell, as if there was so much weight inside of you, stirring and trying to get comfortable.

You hear Helen's voice once more.

"Come, I need to show you something."

You follow that voice with your mind and heart, and you feel yourself rising, the cold cement underneath you fading away, and your mind finding a light in the inky black darkness.

You reach out, and when your hand touches the cold metal of a candlestick, your breath hitches. You can feel the object, really feel it in this place. The candle's light flickers as you take it, and hold it close, the warmth from the small flame touching your cold cheeks and neck.

You walk, feeling as if you're walking on nothing at all, until the light begins to cast a hallway before you. It's still ever so dark, but as you move, you notice it becoming more and more solid, the scene becoming extremely real to you.

You hear the voice again.

"This way..."

You follow where you're being let, and a door opens. You see a woman who looks just like you, standing and turning to see you. She looks pleased, walking forward with a confident stride. You open your mouth to speak to her, but she gets closer, walking so close that she walks right through you.

And suddenly you're her, and you see what she walking towards.

John Wick stands in the door way, his eyes dark, no red to be seen. He smiles at you, and opens his arms as you come to embrace him. You can tell by his smile he is still a vampire, but the lust for blood is gone, the grief in his eyes is no longer masked with hate and anger. Instead, he is simply happy, kissing you everywhere he can get his lips on, and you're there in his arms, not frightened, but giggling with glee.

You watch as he turns you and holds you from behind, his mouth on your neck, kissing and sucking softly. He teases you, and you can feel the shivers of delight he gives with each kiss.

And suddenly, you understand why Helen has wanted to come back to this, these moments with John. You feel a small wave of doubt on if that's even possible, but you know you have to try.

You feel as if a breath of life has been blown into you, and when you close your eyes and lean into John, you know you've also leaned into Helen, and as you realize that your heart swells. It feels as if your chest may even burst from how much is being taken up in such a small space, but slowly the pain dulls, and you find yourself fading back into the darkness.

You open your eyes and see Neo standing over you, his eyebrows drawn in concern. You blink, letting the world come back into focus, and when you do, you notice how everything looks brighter, more vibrant.

You wonder how different things will be now that you look through your own and Helen's eyes, in unison now.

"You made it," Neo says, then looks around your form. "Your aura's evened out, but into a new color entirely. Do you feel any different?"

You stare up at him, not sure what to say, the whole world feeling much too big and large for you now.

"I..." You start, then swallow the lump in your throat as reality sets in. "I feel...complete."

A few tears fall down the creases in the corners of your eyes, wetting your hair along the way. Neo gives a soft smile, then offers a hand, letting you sit up.

You can sense him now. John is out there, and he knows what's happened. It's only a matter of time before he comes to claim you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You decide to come to him. You part ways with Neo and go out into the darkness of the night. You leave the city, Neo's apartment close to a wooded area nearby. You don't want to be interrupted this time.

You know this is dangerous. That John is not that warm and loving man that Helen showed you in her vision to you. You know that man, if he still exists, must be hidden deep. You can no longer deny the pull to him, however, and your feet keep going forward no matter what fears stir in your belly.

You walk, crunching over orange leaves and fallen twigs. The full moon illuminates your path and you feel as if your skin is ignited, sensations you wouldn't have thought possible are being made clear to you. When a critter scurries away, or an owl flaps it's great wings above you, you almost know before the creatures even know their own next moves. That's why, when John steps out of the shadows behind you, you already know he's there.

"I've seen it." You speak to him without turning. "I've seen the man you used to be."

You hear nothing for a few moments, and your breath softly hangs in the cold October air.

"You have no idea if that man still exists inside me," he finally speaks, his voice deep and controlled. "And yet, my little slayer, I find you offering yourself to me so easily."

"Helen showed me, told me of the love that still burns in your heart for her." You didn't hear him move, but John is standing directly behind you now.

"So now you know," his breath moves the hair on the back of your head. "That I am intrigued by you for that sole purpose. Do you not worry I shall use you as a vessel to get to my true love?"

"No," you know it doesn't matter now that your souls are joined. The truth is, you've always been Helen, and that is a fate you could never escape.

"So you've joined your past then..." He thinks for a moment, a clawed hand slowly running itself up your arm, ever so lightly touching it.

"Does it not bother you that she was a vampire, slayer?" He tilts his head with curiosity while softly running his hand up your shoulder to your neck, gently feeling the pulse there.

"It's a part of me. I cannot deny the past or the parts of myself I do not like. It's what makes me whole..." You know it to be true, and you look up, blinking at the bright moon that watches the scene of hunter and hunted below it. You wonder which one the moon thinks you are.

"I have been waiting for you for a very, very long time." John's voice is soft now, surprisingly full of an ache you couldn't understand. You can sense how badly he wants you, he needs you, what he doesn't want to admit.

"And now here I am," you say, your voice quivering for a moment as you walk into such a different path of life. "Asking you to give me your heart once more."

The vampire laughs softly, his hand moving from your neck to play with a loose strand of your hair.

"You ask so much of me." he pauses for a moment, then whispers out. "And would you still give yourself to me knowing that I may never change my wicked ways?"

"I know the real John is in there. Not the killer you've become."

"You sound so sure of yourself. I do not wish to set you up for failure, slayer. Even though my fangs throb and my throat dries from how badly I want you so." He can't deny his bloodlust for you, and a shiver runs down your spine as he speaks, moving aside your hair and whispering this into your neck.

"You believe I should fear you, John Wick?" You feel a confidence building in your stomach despite how frightened you truly do feel.

"Oh," John laughs as he gently scraps his teeth on your delicate skin. "You should be terrified, my dear..."

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in suddenly. You cry out as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, and his hand moves to clutch your throat as he tastes you. You stand there, shaking in his grip, like a fearful deer in the wolf's mouth. Too startled and so quickly dominated by John to run, to fight back. The pain from his bite quickly turns to pleasure, building in your breast and following all the way down to between your thighs. You shudder from his touch, his mouth moving perfectly to carefully and slowly drink every drop of you he can. He's been waiting for this for so long, he couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to, when you so freely trusted him and presented yourself to him.

A moan escapes your lips, and suddenly his free hand is groping your breast, feeling how tender the flesh is there and sending waves of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, pulling you into him and grinding your ass against his hardening cock. You have saved yourself for so long, but never knew you were saving yourself to be taken by such a predator. You hear John's soft growls as he bites you deeper now, taking more of your blood than he originally planned. You're just so sweet, so delicious, and fear mixes with your pleasure as you wonder if he will ever stop, or if he will drain you right here for being such a stupid little whore for him.

You reach up, your hands tangling in his mess of long, dark hair, and you can't help but need him in deeper, drinking you in just the right way that it sends waves of pleasure through your body. John growls become more animalistic, the need and the want overwhelming him. With the pleasure you're feeling, you find your mind foggy and dazed, the thought of letting John kill you somehow turning you on even though you know that's not what you should want.

You find yourself grinding your own hips into him, your legs parting, and John's hand on your hip slipping down, between your legs, beneath your skirt, and grabbing a handful of your wet pussy roughly. He grips your panties, pulling them up harshly so they slip in between your tender lips, finding the perfect spot to grind against your sensitive clit. He works you like that, fucking you with your own panties, and drinking deeper still until you think you may slip into the darkness of pleasure that coaxes you so sweetly. And you let him, a little lamb to the slaughter, looking up at him with big wet doe eyes that ask to be killed so gently.

Just as you think you've truly made a mistake, fear coiling in your stomach and making the pleasure you feel heightened to a degree you don't think you can handle, John pulls his fangs from your neck. He laps the wound there, and it slowly heals, but he's not done with you.

"You've made the mistake of trusting a monster." His voice is full of cruelness and lust. "And now I shall show you what happens when you do."

Your head is so light from the loss of blood, and you can barely fight back, your body so weak. Without warning he flings you into the ground of the forest, leaves and twigs scrapping your hands and knees. Your body falls without a fight, so easily manipulated at this point. You can hardly think of the reality of the consequences you've yet to face from doing such a thing.

John is at your hips once more, grabbing your ass and positioning so perfectly face down ass up. You look back at him, eyes glossy and dazed, tears you have no control of overflowing and dropping onto the dirty ground. Your cheek lays against the earth, dirt beginning to sully your perfect little face.

"It's so sweet you thought you could fix me." He laughs as he rips your underwear, the sound echoing into the quiet night.

Your bare ass faces him, the cold air teasing your extremely hot and wet cunt. He slaps your ass with a satisfying noise, grabbing it and digging his claws in just enough to hurt.

"You're going to regret giving yourself up to me so easily." His cock is now free from his pants, and he spits on your pussy, rubbing it in and mixing it with your already budding wetness, using the tip of his large cock to do so.

He pauses and watches you as you look up at him so innocently, lip quivering, tears falling, too dazed from blood loss to fight him. And then, just when you think he won't go through with it, he plunges all of his long, girthy cock into you in one harsh blow. You've never been fucked before, so the pain reels in your mind and you cry out, hands gripping the earth. For a moment, you try to crawl away from his cock, using most the energy you have left to do so. John laughs, reaching forward with one hand to grab your hips and thrust himself back deeper inside of you, using the other to grab a handful of your hair, pulling you from the earth painfully. Leaves fall off your cheek where they stuck, and you can only look up at the stars and the crimson eyes of the man who's taking everything from you.

"After this, you will no longer be able to deny me. You will no longer be able to go back to being an innocent little slayer." he thrusts into you once more, your mouth opening for a silent scream as you are filled up more and more by his cock, beyond what you ever thought you could take.

"You will be my pretty little whore, a slave to my cock, and a slut that loves to let me drain her." The worst part was, you knew it was true.

Even now, barely able to keep your eyes open from being drunken so deeply, you craved the pleasure those fangs gave you. You hate how your body betrays you, the way it feels so good to be dominated and fucked by John right now. Your legs quiver and shake on the dirty ground from how badly you want to cum. If only your sensitive little clit had attention right now.

"I want you to say it." John says, looking into your eyes as he fucks you and wrenches your hair. "I want you to say that you're mine, and I might just let you cum."

You bite your lip, trying to focus on the pain there instead of how good John's cock is, not wanting to give in. His free hand slaps your ass once more, taking a few hits out on it and leaving handprints that slowly redden. You hate how good it feels to be so degraded by him, for your body to have the sole purpose of being used up by a much more powerful being such as him. It's twisting your mind, rewriting all the training you had as a slayer and making you the perfect little whore.

Your mouth opens and cries out as John pull you up off the ground further by your hair, til your finger tips can barely touch the earth. He reaches around and grabs a handful of your breast, which he slips his hand under your blouse to do so. He quickly gets to your bare skin there, and plays with your nipple, twisting and pulling just the right way. It drives you mad, and you can barely breath as you're overcome with the sensation of that and John thrusting deeper and deeper inside of you.

"Give it up, slayer...You know how badly you crave this. Just admit you're my little toy from here on out and I'll be nice for once." His voice is now in your head, wrapping and twisting around in there, your ability to fight back dwindling more and more.

You can feel John's cock begin to swell, wanting so badly to finish you off. You grit your teeth and try to ignore how badly you want this, and how desperate you are to cum under any circumstance.

"You should decide quick, or else I'm going to use your sweet little cunt as my cumdump and be done with you." John growls, twisting your nipple so hard you cry out into the night.

"I-I'm...!" You try to fight it, try to not let him win, but your body aches, and you need this release so badly.

"You'll have to do better than that, my little pet." He snarls and thrusts in harder and deeper a few times just to break you down further.

"I'm..." Your mouth can barely whisper it out, and your eyes flutter, so tired and wanting to shut. "I'm yours..."

John grins and his hand snakes between your legs, finding your clit and stroking everywhere but it.

"That's it. Tell me what you are to me." He commands, teasing your clit. You feel shivers run along your body and you twitch, trying to move so his fingers will brush over your clit properly.

"I'm, I'm..." Your mind is blank, mouth moving and saying whatever it can form. "I'm your little whore..."

He flicks his fingers over your clit, and you jump from the attention, but moan out from how good it feels. Then you whine when he stops.

"And what else?" You hate how he teases you, and whine harder like the little brat you are when you don't get your way.

"I'm your slut..." You barely know what you're saying at this point, you know anything will come out of your mouth right now if it means you get to cum.

"Yes, good girl..." He whispers into your ear, rubbing your clit properly once more, a bit longer now, then stopping again.

"P-please!" You whimper out, your breath coming so hard and quick now as you get closer, but are denied once more.

"Keep going, tell me how beneath me you are." You feel humiliated from how easy it is now for him to take you and make you do whatever he says. You truly are but a puppet in his hands now.

"I'm your dirty little slut...your bitch..." You blink, trying to cum up with more, but every time you say one, he plays with your sweet spot, then denies you when you stop, making it so hard to think.

"Keep going."

"I'm your cumdumpster...a hole to fuck...your pretty little blood doll to drain when you get thirsty." you have no idea where all this is coming from, but you'll say anything right now as long as John keeps his cock pounding you and his hand sending waves of pleasure through your body while he pets your cunt.

"I'm a mindless little slut for your cock and I had no idea that's what I was meant for before you fucked me into submission..." You whisper out, feeling completely degraded and knowing John's working on those emotions in your mind to help make such horrible words come out of your mouth.

"That's right. And now, I'm going to claim you as mine and keep you forever until I get tired of you." Your body shudders from the thought of being so entrapped by this monster, being so completely used up and broken by such an enemy, and so easily tricked into doing so.

You feel your clit aching from the teasing touches, and your cunt is starting to get sore from how it's being used. You feel John pull you up so he can get to your neck, your back against his torso, his hard abs cool against your hot skin. He uses his hands to keep you steady, his cock still finding a way to keep you stimulated, and his hand working on your clit. He waits til you're shaking, legs ready to give out, and cunt clenching so hard and tight around his cock you think you might break. Then, just as you're spilling over the edge, those waves of sweet pleasure starting in your legs and moving out, he sinks his fangs into you once more.

Your pleasure is mixed with the pain of being bitten again, then quickly moves to heighten your cum. John's cock can handle it no more, finally, spilling his cum so deeply inside of you, throbbing and in need of making sure every last drop gets inside. You feel yourself continuing to cum, much longer than you ever could have thought possible, and darkness beginning to take you as well. You fade into an abyss filled with pleasure and nothingness, and for the first time in your life you feel bliss from being so perfectly taken.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You awake on deep burgandy sheets of silk, twisted up in your legs. You kick out, the silk slippery and expensive feeling, and your foggy mind tries to make sense of what you're seeing around you. You blink, and try to use your hands to rub your eyes and make the scene make sense. It takes a moment, but you begin to see in the dimly lit room.

It's opulent, dark red and deep browns filling your vision. It's a room that looks older, but the items inside are still so prestine despite looking Victorian or earlier. You look about the bed, it's huge, and you feel as if you're on a boat in the middle of the sea. You look up and see the bed posts extend upward, red velvet curtains adorning it and creating a little enclave.

You peek from the bed to see more of the room, body moving slowly, stiff and sore. You realize as you move, someone has dressed you in a light, white and airy, nightgown. As you look from your body back to the room, one of the doors to the room opens.

John walks in, a golden tray in his hand, covered. He says nothing, but he is extremely dominant just from how he walks up to you.

He sees you recoil from him slightly, and your blood starts to pound a bit faster now. His face is stoic and let's no emotions come through.

"Here." He says, not exactly gently.

He sets the tray on the bedside table, and waits for you to move first.

Your mind is hazy, but you remember much of what happened between the two of you. You feel more naked now than when he was fucking you relentlessly. More shy, afraid of being so normal in front of him.

He watches you, a hand gesturing to the tray slightly, waiting for you. You move slowly, not taking your eyes off of him, unsure of if this is a game or a test. You slowly grab the cold metal of the cover of the tray, and pull it off with measured movements.

You glance away from him finally, to see what he's brought you.

On the tray, a delicious looking breakfast. All of your favorite foods of this meal are present on a few different sized plates, complete with a steaming hot cup of tea. You look back up at him, and your eyes narrow for a second, wondering how he would know to make such a perfect breakfast for you.

"It was her favorite too." He says simply, the slowly, as if waiting for you to say now, sits on the bed.

The bed has more than enough room, so you sit near the edge and by the table, and he at the end of your feet. He watches what you will do next.

Despite yourself, your stomach growls from the smell of the wonderful meal, and you can't take it any longer.

You begin to eat, slowly, and to your surprise once more, it tastes as amazing as it looks. You didn't know a vampire could cook so well, but you're not questioning it now.

John watches you with curiosity, and soon you get so into your meal, you forget that you should be afraid of the man at the end of the bed. You pause halfway through, your stomach getting fuller faster than you would have thought. You softly move, positioning yourself so you can look directly at John and drink your tea.

This time, you wait for him to make the first move.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions..." He finally says, and you look at him, not giving anything away either.

The truth was, somehow, you had less questions than you thought. You know what's happened, and you feel less like two entities in one body every passing second. In fact, now you feel as if you've moved into a singular being, and with Helen's knowledge of John lingering in the back of your mind, you know how he will treat you here.

"Or maybe not..." He says with a smirk, clearly reading your mind so easily.

"I still think you're in there, the real John." You take a sip of tea, and you know the hope has not been taken from you entirely.

"Oh really?" John says with a smirk, clearly intrigued. "After what I've done to you, you still think there could be good inside of me?"

You laugh, and John looks genuinely taken back, for only an instant.

"Oh yes," you are now the one smirking. "Just because you're a good fuck, doesn't mean you can't be a good man either."

Your voice is a tad cocky, coyly acting as if the events of him taking you that night were actually your idea. And for a moment, you think that maybe it was...

"I'm hardly a man, you know that, slayer." He says and this time he laughs.

"And I'm hardly a slayer, anymore." You raise your eyebrows and take another sip of the spiced and sweet tea.

John nods, saying nothing, obviously thinking over what you've said. You wonder if you truly could stump the feared John Wick with such ease.

John stands, and walks to the second door in the room. He opens it, and from your view on the bed, you get a peek into a bright white and gold accented bathroom, much larger than any you've seen before.

"The bathrooms here, if you need it." John walks back over to you, leaving the bathroom door open.

He gathers the tray, but leaves you with your tea.

"If you need me, call out. I will hear you."

And with that, he walks out the door he came in, and you hear the particular sound of a lock being engaged. You think on what he said, the implication being not only will he hear you if you call for him, but hear anything else as well. You understand that despite the more kind aspect of feeding you today, and giving you such a gilded cage to stay in, you are still his prisoner.

You decide to get out of bed, your long nightgown flowing with your movements, and your bare feet pad across dark wooden floors. You look into the bathroom closer now, and see all the grandeur of it. The room is large, with a huge marbled bathtub in one corner, big enough to fit 5 or more with comfortably. The side closest to the door holds a sink and counter, behind them a long and tall mirror that makes the room seem even bigger. Across from the sink is a vanity area.

You walk over and inspect it, seeing it is complete with any make up item you may want, of course namebrand only. You spy a few perfumes as well on a tiny golden tray, and you test them. You surely will not like all of the scents, but to your surprise, it's the each smells you'd love to wear most. He really has thought much of this out.

You decide to undress, and as you do, you see your body in the mirror. Bruises on your knees and arms are deep purple, your ass still spotting some red marks and violet as well. Your muscles are sore as you take the dress off and all it combined reminds you of what happened before you came here.

You aren't really sure how to feel about it. You know, if you detailed what happened to any of your friends, or god forbid Constantine, they would immediately think the worst has happened. But somehow, despite the social pressure to deny how much you liked it, you know that when you walked into that forest, in search of John Wick, it was a possibility that he would fuck you so savagely. And the deeper part of you had hoped for it to happen. You look away from the remnants of his touch on your body, and move towards the bathtub.

You sit on the edge while the tub fills with steamy water, looking at the stained glass windows across from the tub. Moonlight pours through them, leaving a red stain across the room from the depictions of roses and such within the glass.

You finally are able to sink deeply into the tub, and you're able to float on your back in there, simply letting your mind and body rest in the heat of the water that envelopes you.

You wonder what happens now.

You've set out to heal your soul bond to Helen, which you've done. But now, a different bond tugs on your heartstrings.

You know that the reason you've come here, given yourself up to John, is because he is connected to you in ways you can't begin to untangle. Not now, after you've chosen to go down this path.

You can tell he wants to use you, in whatever evil way he desires, but you wonder if it could be called 'being used' when the pit in your stomach yearns so deeply for it.

You know you were raised to be a slayer. That it runs in your blood to kill monsters, like John especially. But you never really felt like that was meant for you. You were never as good at it as Constantine. You always lacked something and never even progressed past killing low level monsters. How were you supposed to ever be a great slayer when the odds were so stacked against you?

You sigh, the steam rising from the tub and the mirrors of the bathroom fogging over. You sit up, and reach for expensive looking soaps and haircare on the side of the tub, and begin to gently wash up.

The act of taking care of yourself in such a way soothes you, and you love the scents that have been chosen for you. In a weird way, this is much more calming than any of your years as a slayer. You wonder what else is in store for you, if there's something that will make you regret this so greatly, but apart of you is ready to face anything if you can see the one your heart hungers for on the other side.

You wonder if this is how hedonists feel. Giving into lust, yearning, want, and letting yourself have whatever it is that your body desires, uncaring for if that choice is bad for you.

You wash your body in thought, and as you do, you begin thinking of John's cock again. Maybe that was all it took. Being held down and fucked like an animal, and now you feel so empty without him inside of you. That's what he said right? That you would be a slave to his cock?

You let your hands wander your body in the bath, and you softly touch yourself. Small moans escape your mouth as you keep going, echoing in the large bathroom. You think of John fucking you again, and soon enough you're body is hot with desire. And by the sounds of footsteps entering the bathroom, yours isn't the only one.

You don't need to stop, or move, to know who it is. With your connection strengthening, you know John has stepped into the room. You were hoping what when he said he could hear anything, he would hear you in here touching yourself.

You've become such a naughty girl since you let go.

John approaches the tub, and right now, your back is to him. You have no idea if he came in this way, or quickly undressed, but soon enough, he is entering the warm water with you. He swims carefully behind you, and his hands, still cold, softly caress your back.

You shiver and turn to him, seeing him now, fully naked and immersed in the water as you are.

"Couldn't even finish your bath?" He teases you, voice so soft.

"Mhm..." You simply respond, and now that you're both so exposed to each other, you come in closer.

"You're so easily tamed. Don't you feel like such a whore for giving into me like that?" He chides and smirks, and all you can do is laugh.

If only he knew that you do feel like a whore, but it's not because of how badly you crave his cock. It's something you're slowly starting to choose, and each time you give into such a desire, the more freedom you really feel.

You reach for him, and feel his chest, slowly warming in the hot water. You let your hands run down it, and to your surprise, John let's you do as you please. He watches you with intrigue, and you remember how many more years of experience he has over you. You wonder if there's anything you could do to surprise him.

"You already have." He says, reading your mind once again.

"It's not fair you have access to all of my thoughts, and I have none of yours." You pout, and keep letting your hands explore his body more, slowly.

"You need but ask, Сладкая..." He speaks something in his foreign tongue and through your connection you don't have to ask to know it's for endearment.

"Why do you think you can't be saved?" You ask, and are worried to look into John's eyes.

A long moment passes, and finally you do. John looks down at you from where he's relaxed against the side of the bath, and seems to be thinking.

"I don't think someone who's killed as much as I have, taken as many lives as I do, has much to be saved left." He says this, and you can tell it's sincere.

You nod, listening, and you don't know what to say. It's true. You know after Helen died, he became the assassin he is, killing vampires, humans, and other supernaturals alike. In a way, you think, he's more of a slayer than you are.

"You're probably right." He laughs, and you blush as you realize once more he's overheard.

"If you don't like doing it, you could quit being an assassin." You say softly, running a hand upward and letting it play with the ends of his hair, still not wet from the tub yet.

"It's the only think I could do. After I lost you the first time, I couldn't do anything to make myself feel. Killing changed that." You're surprised he's confiding in you so.

"It won't change much, telling you how I feel. Knowing my feelings doesn't absolve me from the wickedness in my heart." He says, looking deep into your eyes, his now a red so dark you can scarcely tell it's true color.

"I will want you again. And I will take you however and how much I like." He says this extremely plainly, as if there's no other way. "I will not kill you, but you are mine now."

He looks at you for response, and you show him nothing.

"Do you really think a man who will use you for your body and blood, who cannot give you anything in return from a heart so shrivelled as mine is, is the correct choice?" You sense how much he believes this to be true.

You place a hand over where his heart should be. You feel only the faintest and dullest of beats.

"Perhaps, with enough of my blood beating in there, you will feel the love I still have for you, after all these years of waiting." When you speak like this, you know it's more of Helen coming out of you, but you can see from how you use such words, John's eyes seem to soften ever so slightly.

"That is a kind thing to wish for..." He takes your hand in his, and pulls you to him. He kisses your hand, and you let it open like a flower for him.

He kisses your palm, still wet from the bath, and he kisses further, reaching your beating wrist. His eyes flash up to you, the red brightening as his hunger shows.

"You let such a monster as me have free reign over you?" He whispers into your wrist, breath tickling you there. "Oh what a silly little slayer you are..."

"I'm not sure if I was ever cut out to be a slayer..." You can't believe you're saying it out loud, but it's true. You always felt you had to be, that it was what was destined for you, but it never fulfilled you the way it did others.

"Ah, so you've come to use me for your rebellious phase then...?" He jokes and laughs into your wrist before gently nipping at it with his teeth.

"You could say that..." You joke back, but in reality, your breath is caught as you imagine his fangs sinking into you there.

Your thighs squish together in the water as you try to hide your want to feel the pleasure that those teeth bring.

"Don't think I forgot what brought me in here..." John teases you, and you bite your lip as you try not to whine for him. The temptation grows.

"I know how badly you must want me to drink of you again..." John swallows, obviously hungry himself. "But I cannot, you haven't fully recovered from last time."

You can't help it, the whine escapes your lips as he says this and then licks against your pulse, pulling you into his lap as he does so.

"Would an evil vampire care so much for letting me recover?" You whisper out, confronting him despite yourself.

"One that wants to use every last drop of their blood doll does..." He chuckles and let's his teeth run up your arm, until he finds your neck, moving wet hair out of the way.

He kisses there, at that perfect spot on your neck until your moans are filling the room. He let's his hands steady you, and take your body in, exploring every curve, your waist, your back, your breasts.

Oh, how you wish he would touch between your thighs, though...

He smirks and looks you in the eyes.

"Should I be nice for once and let you have what you want?" You don't know if he's serious or not, but from the flash in his eyes you suspect something devious.

He turns, lifting you up and setting you onto the edge of the bathtub with ease. There's more than enough room for you to sit, and John looks up hungrily from between your legs.

He takes in the sight of your body and grins.

"Tonight, I shall taste of you in a different manner..."

He pulls you to the edge and opens your legs without asking, you cry out from how aggressive he is. You can see that primal look in his eyes once again, and you know there's no stopping him now. You also know, you wouldn't allow him to stop anyways. Your breath catches as his head dips between your legs, breath on your most sensitive area already, and before he can ease you into it, he's lapping at your wet cunt.

You squirm and his hands dig into your thighs, pulling you in and capturing you there. You feel caught in the wolf's mouth, not daring to move lest he bite down too hard.

You feel your pleasure ramping up as his tongue continues to tease you, alternating between too much stimulation then not enough, John waiting for you to whine before he gives you more.

Your hands move to tangle in his hair and he grabs them, moving them back. He's not letting you have even an ounce of power right now.

You begin moaning more and more as he focuses his mouth directly on your clit, sucking until you think you'll go mad.

"Say my name." He commands, and you try to think straight as he goes back to licking.

"J-john..." You whisper out, and he grabs your thighs harder, growling.

"Louder."

You bite back giving him what he wants and instead hold your breath as you try to edge yourself closer to the edge.

"Not until I hear you scream my name." John looks up at you with those red eyes, no longer stimulating you, waiting.

Fuck. He's got you right where he wants you, once again.

He laps slowly, teasing his tongue through your folds but not giving enough for you to finish, just enough to prolong your need.

"Fuck..." You whisper out, trying to buck your hips into his mouth, but he holds you down with his steel grip.

You can't take it anymore, your breathing is ragged and sharp, and your body needs release.

"John..." You whisper once more, looking down and seeing that same glare as before, knowing you aren't nearly loud enough.

"God, John!" You moan out again this time getting louder, and every time after building.

He lets you scream his name until he's satisfied, finally flicking his tongue perfectly, sucking and licking just right until you're shaking. He let's you twitch into him, your need to grind against his face given freely as long as you keep his name perched on your lips.

You finish, and he slows down his tongue in time with your breath, easing you down from your high.

He smirks at you once more from between your thighs and pulls you back down into the steamy water.

He says nothing, but slowly runs his hands on your silky, slick body. You feel content in his soft touches, and for a moment you think you might even fall asleep as he does so. He leans you back into the water, wetting your hair then applying shampoo, the smell sweet and lovely. He washes your hair with precise fingers, the feeling on your scalp sending tingles down your back. You look up to keep soap from getting in your eyes, and glance at him. He seems as relaxed as you right now.

"Why are you being so kind to me now?" You shouldn't ruin the moment by asking, but you have to.

"Just because I am capable of good doesn't mean that I am good." He whispers back. "Besides, I like to take care of my things..."

You let him finish washing you, then he helps you from the steamy bathwater, offer a hand as you step out. He hands you a fluffy white bath towel, and a smaller one for your hair. You've never felt so cared for, even though the man doing so is supposed to be such a monster. You know he's wrong. He can't hide how much he cares for you for long.

He gets you a new nightgown and helps you back to bed, your body still overly tired and weak. Another set of tea is already out and prepared, you wonder by whom, but you don't care.

You drink the liquids left out for you with fervor, your body thirsty after sweating in the steam of the bath. John walks over to a fireplace in the room, and begins to light it, toying with the flaming wood until its to his liking.

"You don't have to worry here, you know..." He says softly, still looking at the fire.

"No?" You reply.

"No...I will have your every need taken care of, but I have conditions."

"Which are?" You look at his back, his eyes still glued to the flame.

"You may not leave here. I will not allow you to see your friends. And your body is for me to consume as much or as little as I like." He says the conditions so plainly, and you wonder if you'll be able to adhere.

You say nothing and he stands, turning to leave not looking at you.

He pauses at the door, only half moving his head in your direction.

"Goodnight." He whispers, then closes the door and locks it once more.

You crawl under the covers, and the warmth from the fire keeps the cold at bay. You wonder where your life with John will lead.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You lay there, head full of dreams that whisk away reality, softly breathing. The balcony doors to the room shutter against the cold of the wind. November is near now, and the weather has started to dip into a frosty tendency. You are grateful for the warmth of the room as the wind continues its wickedness outside. You sleep somewhat peacefully despite your situation.

That is, until the knocks came.

You thought perhaps a branch or some other bit of nature had summoned itself against the glass, but the intensity of the knocking grew louder. Your eyelids flutter open and you blink away sleep, trying to see what it is that has disturbed you.

A shadow cast across the room, a long, dark shadow that is human in form. You feel fear slide down your spine as you quickly look at the window to see the source, and your heart sinks.

It's him.

Constantine.

You fling yourself from the bed at once, feet slapping against the cold wooden floor. When you come to the glass doors of the balcony, you pause, wondering if you should really open it. You glance up at Constantine's face, and the love you once held for him is still a dull ache in your heart.

You open the doors.

He immediately embraces you, his warmth shining through despite the cold.

"You have no idea how long I've been looking for you..." He whispers into your hair.

You've never seen him so tender.

Your absence must have been harder on him than you thought it would be. You had only known him barely a year before you met John, but there was an undeniable bond between you two. There still is.

You pull yourself away from him.

"What are you doing here?" Is all you can say, and Constantine's face drops.

"I'm here to rescue you? What the fuck do you think I'm here for?" The gruffness and mean tone of voice you're used to is back.

"I never said I needed to be rescued." You fold your arms across your chest, stopping some of the billowing of your nightgown in the wind that blows in from the open doors.

"Why else would you be here with a vampire? I don't believe that you have come here on your own accord, you're a slayer, we don't do that..." He says this slowly, watching your reaction, looking at you as if you were a foreign object he must inspect.

"I..." You begin to speak, then close your mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Don't tell me you actually decided to come here on your own..." Something inside his words, beyond the cruel exterior, was almost pleading you to say no.

You say nothing.

Before Constantine can open his mouth to speak once more, the doors to your bedchamber open with sleek vigor.

John stands there, staring Constantine down.

Before you can stop them, they're already at each other, Constantine going to grab a stake off of his back, and John going for his throat.

"Stop!" You call out, and you realize you cannot bear to lose either of them. Your heart beats wildly and you try to think of a way to end this.

To your surprise, Constantine is able to get John pinned, his stake aimed and John's hand holding his arm to stop him from drilling it into his heart.

"Please! Don't!" You scream out, and Constantine looks at you.

"Tell me you want me to go and I will." He says, grunting with effort to keep the upper hand while distracted.

"Tell me you choose him and I will never bother you again." His voice caught, rough and pleading with you.

You have no idea how you're supposed to choose so suddenly. You open your mouth but cannot muster words to come out.

"Fine." Constantine says and soon allows John to break free from him.

As John goes in for the kill, Constantine jumps from the balcony, giving you one final look, that you know means you won't see the last of him.

You rush to the edge of the balcony, to see where he's gone.

When you check the ground, so far down you don't think you could ever make such a jump, he's already gone. The only evidence being boot prints in the wet grass and the anger on John's face.

"John...I--" before you can speak grabs you and flings you into the bedroom.

He shuts and now locks the balcony door, your one salvation to the outside world these past few weeks.

He glares at you, his red eyes full of emotions you don't think you could ever feel so intensely. His eyes lock with yours, and you can see the pain there hidden behind a sardonic grin.

"Seems you're still tethered to the past, my dear. I think it's time you make a choice."

With that, he leaves you there, tears welling up in your eyes as your heart hurts from both of them.

The door to your bedchamber clicks and you're all alone once more...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Taglist: @emacarrigton @sunnythebunny7 @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3 @generalkenobee

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#john wick x reader #dark fic #my writing #john wick fic #vampire!john wick #john constantine x reader #constantine x reader

[constantineshots]

I'm kind of confused on John Constantine's characterisation. But, to be fair, I did come across him in the dp x dc crossovers, so...*shrug*

It's just that he ranges from the most pathetic, self-centered but also accidentally altruistic smoking asshole who couldn't care less if you burned alive to a soft-hearted tsundere who wants to help but lets nobody see that and tries to be an asshole to drive them away.

Also the thing about him backstabbing everyone he spends more than five minutes with, but still being on the JL's speed dial???? And everyone says he's an asshole who's more trouble than he's worth but they still turn to him for help?

If you have the time, could you please clear that up a bit? What is he like in the comics? The good ones I mean.

Thank you and have a nice day.

hello! sorry this took me a minute- had a lot to say. its a long post SORRY

buti think the simplest way to describe it is that in regards to the dc x dp crossover, they focus more on the dc universe's john constantine- which is the mainstream universe, with big shots like superman and batman and all of the things that make him, for the most part, seem like he's the best in magic and this man who is on, as you put it, the justice league's speed dial. he's the butt of most jokes, he never actually shows his bisexuality in a healthy manner because he's more likely to be joking about it than actually being in a relationship with a man (his usual love interest is zatanna, and ofc, bisexual people are allowed to date someone of the same gender, but what annoys me is that they are willing to joke about his bisexuality without showing him actually dating these men that he jokes about).

however, vertigo comics (which is dc's black label: comics like hellblazer (john's line), lucifer, the sandman, etc. reside because the topics they touch are for mature audiences- and not just because lucifer's naked 90% of his comic run) is where we get john constantine. in hellblazer, he starts off as a terrified man who's willing to do anything to survive- and, honestly, i'd say that's still the case throughout the series. he seems more real. more possible. more like someone i can connect to.

all the magic he's learned isn't this "inner power" that we see in characters like zatanna (love her, no shade to her) who was taught her magic by her father and has been around it her whole life, or characters like the enchantress. he picked up some books and started digging through them and learning to regain some semblance of control of his life because of his abusive family and just overall not being the most popular kid.

a lot of john's character stems from trauma- his family life, newcastle, most of his relationships with other people, the things he does in general, being in ravenscar, etc.

i said something a while back that i think still stands to this day- he's not a hero because he'll do anything to save his friends or himself, but overall, he comes first. to put it in perspective, there are times he knows things are dangerous, and yet he still asks for favors. also, this guy was dying of lung cancer (yknow. because he was smoking as much as he was) and he didn’t stop smoking, of course. no, he basically pulled this huge con on a bunch of higher people in hell and was like “well now if i die, a whole war starts” so they? made sure he would live. that’s the kind of shit john does. he’s a con artist.

while john doesn't like to sit on his feelings too long, he does care- he just doesn't like showing it. he shoves people away when they get too close, and when someone hurts him- for example, kit moving back to belfast and essentially breaking up with him because of the fact people attacked her to try and get to him, john was horrible. he was cruel. he called her cold, which he knew would hurt her. then, he went into an immediate depression and was homeless for,,, what, a year? because he blamed himself for so much shit and kit was just what made him keel over.

on top of that, john is pretty political. his whole character is- he talks about climate change, he talks about racism, he’s aware of his privilege, and in one of the more recent runs of hellblazer, he shows that too. shame that one wasn’t very long- would’ve liked more of it. however, his dc run doesn’t show any of that. it’s like they’re showing john but without getting into the gritty parts of him that make him him. it’s like they’re scratching the surface and won’t just take the metaphorical shovel and slam it into him. which sucks- i like the idea of him being around the other characters, somewhat, but i don’t want him to be the go to guy when it comes to dc comics’ magical people. he certainly isn’t that. they have those- they’ve got dr. fate and zatanna right on the league, why do they need john?

his character in vertigo is definitely not a hero, and dc wants him to be that. they want him to be the magic guy they have on speed dial. they want him to be the sexy guy with a cigarette in his mouth flirting with everyone in sight. they don’t want to delve into the darker territory because it’s going to scare people away, and the ones that are scared away probably shouldn’t be interacting with his character in the first place.

honestly, i’m probably missing a lot, but this is getting to be storybook length as it is, so sorry for my little tangent but i hope this helps!

#john constantine #asks #this is so long i apologize

[gabessquishytum]

Gabe I am kissing you on the mouth bc yes!!! Hob would be such a good influence on Dream! He helps him get his shit together during the tour and when it finally ends and they head back home, the offer is made for Hob to become their permanent guitarist. They had already spent most of the tour writing new material and so just two months after it, they already have a double album's worth of songs to record.

The recording process is smooth sailing. They're really meshing well as a band and being home around his son begets a wave of creativity that was unknown to him. He also cuts back significantly on the drugs so his mind could be focused at home with his son and the divorce proceedings with his wife. Calliope doesn't want anything really since she's made her money and prefers to be independent. Orpheus also finally starts to reconcile with his father. He even starts writing love songs again, first to his son and then to Hob. But he never tells Hob that these happier songs are for him. The press would rip them apart if they ever knew so he keeps it under wraps.

But with the record company happy with the new demos, life gets better. The bassist position filled by a long time and much-beloved musician Gault who Lucienne convinced to join when she saw her preform in a little club in Manchester, even Hob is better off when he finally and officially joins the band and gets some money coming in from it. It's his first real label deal since '76 when EMI had come sniffing around. He can now afford to send his son off to a really nice school and make sure he's cared for when he goes off on tour.

The record comes out and becomes their biggest seller. Their sound, while still a bit down, now has this air of optimism and pop sensibility. For the first time, they get offered a worldwide tour. Over two hundred dates in 15 countries. They play everywhere from LA to Capetown. They're giving interviews. It really feels like their moment has come.

But there's trouble on the horizon. First off, Constantine's drinking has worsened. He's a rockstar now and likes to party as such, which is a shame because now Hob has been chiding him for partying so hard. His work performance has been slacking and that's led to some fights. Which he finds hypocritical, as Dream has cut back, he hasn't gotten clean either. This leads Dream to rent a hotel room for a week and lock himself inside to sweat out the worst of the addiction. Which he does without telling anyone.

Hob obviously loses his mind looking for him and finds him on the floor of the bathroom, shivering like a shitting dog and so cold. He helps nurse him back to health, but by then it's too late. The tour starts and what a tumultuous tour it is! The first month or so, Dream barely has the energy to walk let alone give a three-hour performance. Lucienne loses her mind trying to manage his mood swings and Constantine's drinking problem. Gault nearly bails after the first show when he snaps at her for fucking up during rehearsals. Mr. Record Company also isn't happy with how expensive the set is to move and decorate which makes Dream threaten to walk. Hob has to talk him down. Even their relationship falters when they get hounded by paparazzi wherever they go and they start arguing over stupid issues. Like Hob sees a female fan getting harassed during their set and stops the show to have it out with the guy which leads him to jumping off the stage, over the barricade and into the crowd to fight him. Which is not a good look. Hob might be punk rock, but that's not their image. He can't be fighting whoever pisses him off anymore! Which plants it in his head that maybe him and Dream are a little too different for this work out.

I have more ideas like Hob being spotted during a show in LA when he sneaks off to go see Black Flag and gets fucking wrecked by the crowd who call him a sellout and bounce him from their space. He's not a real punk anymore! Or Dream's little catfight with Morrissey when he gets big, but I won't bore you anymore lol

🎸 (is this taken? if it is my apologies)

I'm still relentlessly obsessed with late 70s musicians au!! Here is the first part if anyone missed it! Thank you so much for giving us more 🎸 anon!!

I love the rollercoaster of this whole relationship. On the one hand the band is seeing so much success, and there's money, and the press is in a good mood for once. But fame brings so many issues and Hob finds himself almost missing the days when he was scrounging for gigs. He wants to make music and he wants to be with Dream but he's hyper aware - he's not immune to alcohol and drugs, he's a little scared that he might relapse when the stuff is just laying around in the dressing rooms all the time. He knows that Dream partly got clean for his sake but he hates seeing his lover in such a fragile state. Basically Hob is trying very hard to hold the whole band together: caring for Dream, dragging Constantine out of clubs at 3am so he doesn't get arrested again, trying to persuade Gault that it's really not all that bad, next week will be better... he's tired. He gets into more fights. He listens to a lot of Def Leppard. He's spotted outside strip clubs (mostly hunting down Constantine) and starts to get a reputation in the press as some kind of sleazy guy. Dream gets jealous even though he knows the truth. It's the most stressful period of Hob’s life and he is SO burnt out.

They have a couple of days off from the tour and Hob goes AWOL. Dream can't find him anyway, at the hotel or the bus or at any of the nearby cafes. Dream eventually finds him at a local church, just sitting hunched over in one of the pews. Dream can see that he's been crying, and suddenly he feels so awful for taking advantage of his friend, his lover. He's been so selfish but Hob still smiles at him and takes his hand. Dream ends up holding him in the empty church, rocking him gently and humming one of the songs that they've been writing together.

Dream tells him that they can go home. They can cancel the last 50 or so dates and just go back to Hob’s suburban home and get some fucking sleep. But Hob shakes his head and nudges Dream gently. The show must go on, right? No point in giving up now. It's just that they've all lost sight of the music somewhere along the way.

It doesn't get much easier, but Dream steps up a bit. Constantine is cajoled into toning down his rockstar behavior. Dream and Gault sweet talk the press by giving a few interviews and photo ops where they make sure to emphasise that Hob is NOT sleazy, he's actually a family man and a brilliant friend so everyone can fuck off talking shit about him. They even get a couple of other big name artists to say nice things about Hob. He's worked on so many sessions that everyone knows him. And yeah, there are some shitheads (and probably also johnny rotten) who call him a talentless sellout. But Hob is touched by how much effort Dream has put in to making him feel better.

And eventually they get to go home. Dream is still a shivery wreck but he hasn't relapsed, the record is still selling, the paps have calmed down now the tour is over so Hob doesn't feel terrified every time he meets Dream in public. Their relationship FINALLY gets more physical in private. They make love for the first time!! Dream finally sees the anarchy tattoo and writes a ballad about Hob’s wonderful arse (which will, mortifyingly, go on to be a top 20 hit).

Of course they're a pair of disasters and they have their ups and downs. But I honestly feel like their relationship is a rollercoaster that neither of them really want to get off. They're basically soulmates and however insane their lives get, they're always going to end up together.

#🎸 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw drugs #cw alcohol

[lostamongthestarz]

Constantine x trans!male reader going through body dysmorphia

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Was going through some body dysmorphia and decided to write some fluff/comfort with Constantine because this man has a huge spot in my heart

❗❗credit for the gif is appreciated <3❗❗

Tws//body dysmorphia mentions, ooc Constantine?

❗❗Female readers are on thin ice but don't fetishize my writing, I write these headcanons for my fellow trans men ❗❗

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Constantine is a observant person, he can tell when somethings up

He notices the way you look at yourself in the mirror for longer periods of time, as if you picking yourself apart.

Hes not one to push or pry but he let's you know he's there, while he may not seem like it he shows it in his own way.

As before I've said I also headcanon Constantine as trans (comfort headcanon) so he understands what going through body dysmorphia is like

As I've also said before Constantine does not care if your human or non-human, Constantine will do this best to make sure you know he cares

Gentle kisses to your face

Caressing your face

Complements!! Showers you in them to make sure you know your handsome in his eyes

If you let him, he wraps you up in his trenchcoat and whispers nothing but sweet compliments into your ear

If your love language isnt physical touch then Constantine will be more then happy to just spend time with you, weither you two are doing a hobby you enjoy or just sitting and listing to the sounds of the night, Constantine doesn't mind

I headcanon Constantine not being able to cook but baking? He's the best at baking (I don't know if he can actually cook but who knows)

Will bake whatever you want, he knows your favorites and will bake however many you want

Most definitely has a "kiss the cook apron" he wears because he knows it'll make you laugh

Will let you rant to him about anything, if its something your heavily invested while he bakes to take your mind off your worries

Constantine might not always be the best when it comes to comfort but when it happens he makes it count for all it's worth

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Needing me a hug and a smooch from him right about now

My requests are open <3

My inbox is open 💌

#x male reader #x trans male reader #john constantine x trans!male reader #john constantine x reader #constantine x reader

[rusalkalover]

Tom and Shiv as Yandere Parents

A/N: The poison drips through... no special TWs this time.

Oh, Tomshiv baby, you've got a big storm coming.

You're going to be spoiled as a child, there's no doubt about that. For Shiv, that's just normalcy. She has money, of course she's going to spend it on you too. Tom's family was far (FAR) from poor, but he hardly grew up with the wealth that the Roys did—he'll greatly enjoy raising you with that. He likes nice things, and he'll make sure you know nothing but them.

In Roy family tradition, you're going to have a weird nickname. I'm inclined to think Tom comes up with it, something taken out of his little Roman history phase—Constantine, for one of the arguable last Roman emperors. It sticks, much to Shiv's annoyance.

They're always competing for your affection. Like, genuinely competing. After they put you to bed for the night, they'll update the score on the way to a gala.

"Well, I don't mean to toot my own horn, but Constantine did say they thought that little robot I gave them last week was the best toy in the world." "Huh. Well, they said I was the prettiest mommy in the universe, so that's worth at least five dolls."

It's a joke for them, but, well, it's not a joke.

Both of them are obviously pretty busy with their work, so when you are younger you have a variety of caregivers and nannies. I can easily imagine Tom firing and hiring new ones regularly just because he can't stand the thought of you forming a bond with them. (Shiv wouldn't even think of it, because how could her child get attached to some randos?).

On that note, Shiv will absolutely try to push a pro-Roy mindset on you. You're simply better than your peers, by power and money and blood. You shouldn't waste your time with them, unless it's useful; stay in your own circle. Stay with her. What about Daddy? Well, he's an exception, she says, and you can never remember if her voice was fond or strained when she said that.

Side note: Greg is your weird uncle. He's just kind of... there. If you're mean to him both of your parents love it.

It's not until you're older that you really begin to realize none of your friends have to play the game at home like you do—that spending time with one parent doesn't mean the other will be passive-aggressive to you for the rest of the week. That no one is not-so-gently nudging them towards internships at a certain company, that their life isn't carefully plotted out to keep them safe and to keep them caged. That the love is not conditional, there.

I think Tom's the parent you will like more when you're young and Shiv's the parent you like more when you're older.

Tom is easy with affection in a way that Shiv is not, he won't yell at you about things you don't understand then disappear for a week in shame he won't admit to feeling. But as his hair whitens, you see how he often he sees you as an object, as a symbol of his tie to the Roy family, or a physical manifestation of a legacy, one that you are quickly being pushed to shoulder by him.

And as you get older too, you can see how hard your mother did try to at least be better than her own mother, to be there for you even if she did often make mistakes. And she doesn't want this empty life for you either, you can tell. Whether it's because she wants a better life for you or because she can't stand to see you succeed where she failed—it doesn't really matter, does it?

By the time you're an adult, you can recognize the complexity of your relationship with both of them. There's really two options for you as you continue to get older: you can either continue to carry the dynasty you were born for or cut all ties.

If you choose not take on Waystar Royco, if you choose to leave, Tom will never forgive you. He'll go to right to the typical Roy patriarch line: he did all of this for you, how dare you throw it away? He'll probably try to cut you off, sure that you'll come crawling back. Shiv will never exactly outright say she is proud of you, but sometimes you think you can read it between the lines.

And if you stay, well, it continues. Sometimes it feels like you never grew up at all. It's like you're playing house in a giant office building. I do think Tom will step down and offer the position of CEO to you long before he passes (he has learned from that mistake) but he hangs around. You have dinner together at least once a week. Shiv still plays as your mother, offering her guiding hand.

It's nice, if you close your eyes and pretend there's any real emotion there, in place of the corporate walls and designer clothing.

#yandere succession #yandere headcanons #parental yandere #platonic yandere

[sockich]

Oh, you're very limber, aren't you?

Why are you here, Constantine? You called me, gorgeous.

I've noticed a bit of a communication problem between you. Don't worry, uncle John doesn't mind being in the middle.

Got it in one, handsome.

Had a good talk with tall, dark, and brooding. I think he likes me. Yeah, I can tell by the way he glares at you. So you think I have a chance?

I hate that I find that so charming.

Okay, I'm officially impressed, and not a little smitten.

Be useful or be quiet, John. First names now, handsome? Knew you'd warm up to me.

You see, there was this one time in Nantucket⁠— *snort* I'm sure I don't need to know. Try it, you might enjoy it.

I like them big, but this is a lot, even for me... The first time's the toughest, but I believe in you. I'm a bad influence on you. You can make it up to me later.

Not bad, for your first time. And don't worry, we'll work on your stamina.

Ready for round two? Heh. After you. Such a gentleman.

Less quipping, more running, pretty boy. Ha ha! You finally admit I'm pretty, eh? Bruises and batterin' well worth it, then.

John Constantine and Bruce Wayne in Batman: Urban Legends #12-16 by Vita Ayala, art by Nikola Čižmešija.

#john constantine #love him #bruce wayne #love them #batfamily #lgbtincomics #batman: urban legends #dc #comics #my posts

[pixuou]

Regan: So, with most of the head office still under construction, I hope you all don't mind having to hold this board meeting here in our home once again. Which brings me to the first point on the agenda... The reconstruction of the office has gone over budget, and with the bad financial year we had last year, I'm afraid it means we might have to rethink some of our investments.

Ellen: If I may have a suggestion... I don't see why keeping the estate in Académie Le Tour is necessary.

Regan: Good thinking, Vice President.

Goneril: But— I thought you had fond memories of your time spent in that house, Elena. Plus, Hal and Desdemona are going to college soon, am I supposed to send them to live in the dorms?!

Ellen: Look, it's simply not worth it to maintain that big house for a maximum of one of two students at a time to live in it. Sure, we could rent it to other students, but then what would be the point of the elite accommodation? We should simply sell it.

Goneril: Regan, do you agree with this?

Regan: Well, I can see why you'd consider keeping the house a long term investment in our family's future, it's not that I don't want the best for my children for when they get to college, but the truth is, we need short term solutions now. So yes, putting it on the market after Miranda and Hermia graduate and sharing the profit among all eligible Capps would be the logical thing to do.

Goneril: But that estate is something our father was so proud to have built for his grandchildren. It was his dream to see it get a charter and become a Greek house one day. That dream is now going to be out of reach forever...

Regan: Goneril, please be reasonable here. It simply doesn't make sense to keep the house. We need the money, as bad as that sounds. And with all due respect, you're only a honorary board member... and it's not hard to see why. ... So, all in favour say 'aye'.

Ellen: Aye.

Cornwall: Aye.

Goneril: *sigh*

Ellen: By the way, Regan, where is that lovely baby chair from?

Regan: Oh, it was a gift from a business partner if I recall. But I can just give it to you, Cosima has almost outgrown it now. ... Unless of course you have the misfortune of having a boy.

Goneril: You wouldn't want that, would you? To end up like Regan, with a male firstborn... As much as I love Constantin – oh, AND Clement –, I just wouldn't wish that on a Capp mother.

#ultimatehood #round 3 #regan #goneril #ellen #cornwall #unborn baby capp

[talentforlying]

@normaltothemax: how about something angsty? something to do with failure or something idk

the ashen taste of failure. novelists love that shit. they'll sit in the dark of their rooms or the gaudy yellow lights of a coffee shop for hours trying to put it in their own words, rolling their tongues along the ridges of their teeth to stir up a taste more poetic than the acid of their own spit, to really feel what they say their protagonists do. prettying up misery to package and sell, because who the fuck would want to read it if they were to come right out and say "some seventy year old git who just boked in the station toilet has been riding a train with no destination for hours, and if you ask him, he's pretty sure he's been on that train his whole fucking life"?

( yeah. he wouldn't read it either. )

if there is someone writing his life, trying to feed 'failure' into the flavor grinder, they don't have to try hard to come up with the 'ashen' part. it clings to him like a lover, like a second skin, like film stretched over leftovers you've already forgotten about and won't find again until the stench of rot starts to leak out the gaps around the door of the fridge. ash on his fingers, on his tongue, on his coat. ash in his wake, a long, slithering trail — bridges and lives and bodies and rules. cigarette stubs in the windowsill. every car's a non-smoking car these days, but since when has that ever stopped a determined enough wheezing working man from lighting up? never stopped him. there's precious little that does.

and that's the fucking problem right there, isn't it? nothing stopping him. people too shit-scared to get in his way. plenty of high-and-mighty fuckers to tell him off after he's done, oh sure; parades of angry scoffs and disapproving looks, fingers stuck in his face and punches to be thrown. but not a single fucker to hold him back when the tide is rising and he's still charging down the beach to kick sand in someone else's face. no one who can change his mind once it's been made up. no one who wants to make the plan, break the rules, take the dive, push the big red button. to fail. fucking sycophants and cowards with 20/20 hindsight, dooming him to lose again and again and again.

( sure, make it about everyone else but you, constantine. make it anyone else's fault but yours.

pretend like the only reason you're still shoveling the shit is because the nasty mean world won't take the spade away from you, pretend like being the only one for the job isn't exactly what you fucking wanted all along.

congratulations, con job: you're special. now fucking live with it. )

the ashen taste of failure. does failure leave the taste behind, or does the ash come first? does fate rub his nose in it once they've learned he's shat the carpet, or does it sprinkle down across his shoulders like powdery snow as soon as he steps outside, marking him for an inevitable fuck-up?

would it be easier to know that there really is someone writing his life, and that every ounce of burning shame sent to sear the back of his throat with each new drag on that ashen taste serves a purpose, eventually? it's all in the plot, you didn't get another friend killed for nothing. just the plot, putting your family into early graves and sinking your mind like a stone down the throat of your own titanic ego, until it chokes on unreality and the new god penance ascends the throne. a mechanism to get you from point A to B with narrative swiftness so the audience won't get fucking bored, so you'll find that next convenient little nugget of resolve and grow up a bit just as you were meant to, just in time to pull yourself together for the next big event.

except, he doesn't know what point B looks like. skipped the briefing, missed the stop. left all the resolve behind. someone else can go pan for it, find him a reason to change, hoard it or sell it or turn it into something worth keeping, something that might change the text on his tombstone from THAT BASTARD CONSTANTINE into SOMEONE WHO HAD SOMETHING TO GIVE, but for now, there's nowhere to go: there's only the act of going. only him and this train, and the fact that inevitably, eventually, it will stop. it has to, right? he can't continue like this forever. like chewing gum, he can't maintain the taste.

( why not? nothing stopping him. )

pull the e-brake. let him off here. something's burning, and he's pretty sure it's his life: going up in smoke, like every good thing he's ever touched. like bridges, and bodies, and rules.

hey, writer up there. do you taste that, when you roll your tongue around, stinging where you cracked open that split lip? tastes like seventy years of salt, doesn't it? when you press your hands to your eyes, can you feel ridges and scars doing the same, squeezing vitreous fluid up against your optic nerve? when you breathe, does your heart beat so fucking fast, so fucking hungry for that stolen air, that it feels like dying? does it feel like you've been losing for decades, yourself and other people, hopes and compassion and desperate fucking dreams clawing up out of your lungs in bits and pieces, and you can never spare the time to pick any of them up because the next one's already on its way?

failure doesn't taste like ash. novelists love that shit because it's easy, pre-packaged. failure tastes like this: salt his pride won't name as tears, and acid spit, and the last gasp of a low-tar cigarette on a train to nowhere, in a life maintained on the knowledge that as sad and sorry as he feels for himself now, he is probably yet to do his worst.

. . . yeah. you're right. he doesn't fucking like that ending either.

( nothing stopping him from changing it. )

#normaltothemax #WELL THIS BECAME. SOMETHING #THANK YOU FOR THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING IT #calling myself out for loving the phrase 'ashen taste of failure' actually it's a GOOD FUCKING PHRASE CONSTANTINE #also got weirdly meta but to be fair he Did canonically have a pub crawl with his own comic book writers SO #idk something something metaphor for his lack of faith / vacillation between taking too much responsibility & not enough #( drabble. ) #( character study. ) A WALKING PLAGUE OF A MAN.

[aikoiya]

DP HC - Souls As Money?

I just read an idea that had it so that souls could be used to pay one's taxes in the Ghost Zone.

Yeah, I'm sorry, but that feels more like a Hell thing, while I feel like the Ghost Zone is more like Purgatory. As such, I only think the most powerful of Ghost Zone residents would be able to possess other's souls. But that's just me. Like, sure, ghosts can feed off of them & make them more powerful, but even amongst ghosts, I think that'd be considered highly morally compromised & can eventually lead to the ghost becoming a lesser demon which automatically sends them to Hell & makes them incapable of feeling real pleasure or happiness or even something as simple as satisfaction. There is absolutely NO coming back from Hell. The only one who's ever managed it was Jesus & let's be honest, none of us can measure up.

Once you're gone, you're done. Do not pass go! Do not collect $200! No more reincarnation!

You. Are. Stuck.

I mean, at least, to me. Like, I hc that souls are what's at the center of a ghost's core.

And, I just don't think that souls can really be killed by anyone other than whoever originally created souls. *cough*God*cough*

More so, I feel like they generate 'soul energy/magic' & that's what demons feed off of. If you completely deplete a soul of its energy all at once, then it damages the soul but doesn't kill it & if the soul ever does reincarnate, the damage sustained as a soul results in several mental health deficiencies that, if severe enough, can eventually lead to things like cannibals, rapists, serial killers, pedophiles, that sort of thing. On small scales, it results in extreme anxiety, clinical depression, schizophrenia, MPD, & so on & so forth.

If you're sparing about it, the soul can regenerate soul energy, but the process of draining it is very painful to the soul & this slow method is arguably worse for the soul than just outright draining the energy all at once & being done with it.

So, no. I think souls could only be a viable monetary item for demons.

At the same time, as Ghost King, Danny could own souls, but it makes him feel filthy. 🤢

Like, it makes him feel viscerally uncomfortable.

I do like the idea that if Danny 'owned' Constantine's soul, that he'd refuse to return it until he learned how to treat it right, though.

Literally, I think that Danny would try to get Jazz's help in creating a Soul-Seller's Rehab just for people like one John Constantine.

Also, because I think it'd be stupid to just give it back even after he does learn to give half a shit about himself & his well-being. Once John dies, he's basically the Biblical definition of a slave in that he will have to work off the claim & buy ownership of himself back.

However, he ONLY gets this chance because Constantine sold his soul in service of others (Unless I'm mistaken) & Danny understands the need to do whatever he can to save others.

But if he ever does it again, he's done! Danny ain't dealin' with it!

No take backs!

End of the line!

I also see this idea that Constantine is basically selling what amounts to slivers of his soul a lot, but I read another hc that seems more accurate. It suggests that what he's doing isn't giving away slivers of his soul, but actually giving away ownership of his whole soul to multiple beings & pitting them against each other so no one being can take it. This suggests that a soul isn't worth much unless it's whole & in tact.

I also really like this one hc I saw where someone whose sold their soul looks different to ghosts than other people. That they look inherently disturbing to them.

They described someone who's basically committed what amounts to soul tax fraud like Constantine as having a face that looks like a broken dish plate held together with blood seeping through the cracks.

It fosters an instinctive feeling of fear & disgust in ghosts.

For more, go to my full Ghost Zone Masterlist.

#danny phantom #dp #ghost zone #infinite realms #ghost lore #souls #Aikoiya hc

[prospectivehero]

VICTOR AND NORA, A GOTHAM LOVE STORY- Written by Lauren Myracle, Illustrated by Isaac Goodhart

Confession time: I'm terrible with names (real life and fictional). Even with my associate's degree in Batmanology, my poor name recognition missed the significance of Victor Fries, a resident of the city of Gotham. When the part of my brain that doesn't require caffeine to function decided to look up some familiar names when I was halfway through the novel, I was heartbroken. Would it have been better for me to be surprised by the ending, I wasn't sure, but I didn't think I could expect a happy ending from "a gotham love story."

This is a rough read. Much like Constantine and Miracle Man, it's not something to read when you're in a bad headspace. I'll talk more about it in the trigger warnings, but this story focuses on death and dying. Victor is burdened by a loved one's death in his past, which he feels at fault for. He has become cold to the people around him and feels safe studying cryogenics in solitude. Nora only sees death in her future due to an incurable progressive disease that will slowly deteriorate her functionality, personality, and treasured memories before it kills her. But she refuses to let this illness take anything valuable from her, so she has decided to plan her suicide and leave this world as herself. But she's given herself time to make more memories with a boy she met in a cemetery.

I was not in a good headspace reading this comic. I won't go into full detail, just know that I was having several identity crises overlapping one another. I'm in a better headspace now that I've figured some stuff out, but during that experience, these very well-developed characters hit especially hard. Nora's relationship to her illness and battle with its ever-increasing presence felt relatable since I battle a progressive disability. The two are not the same, but I understood her desire not to tell any of her friends so they wouldn't have to watch her suffer and degrade. When she tells Victor, I relate to his desperation to keep her with him since she makes him feel alive and loved.

If you recognized the names you probably could figure out where the story is going but it's worth the read. The story feels very personal. The illustrations, by Jason Goodhart, consistently match the feeling of Lauren Myracle's story and none of the beautiful character designs distract from the weight of everything that happens. There were breaks in the story that reference other artists or stories like Tim Burton or Titanic (1997) to serve the story. I think these breaks flowed well, but I could understand if it's not everyone's cup of Mountain Dew. This is my new second favorite graphic novel, despite how I reacted to it while reading it. I highly recommend picking it up.

TRIGGER WARNINGS (with potential spoilers) -

1) Death - Victor frequently remembers the fire that he accidentally started as a child that destroyed the family house and took the life of his older brother, Otto Freeze.

2) Planned and Attempted Suicide - Nora reasons that this is the only way she can die as herself, so she sets a date and a means and writes a letter to her father. She is stopped before she can complete her plan. Her note is read at the end of the novel.

3) Secondary Mourning - This comic gives time and space to mourn with the characters as they mourn their past and future. We see how Nora views her illness and how Victor views himself. It was a unique experience, being given an opening to grieve in moments that may feel very familiar to many of us, but it can be painful if you're not ready to feel those feelings.

4) Sex (Consentual) - It is as PG-13 and fade-to-black as a sex scene could possibly get, but it doesn't hide the fact that it happened.

5) Language - Much like Constantine, I tuned it out, which means I had to skim through the novel. I saw rare uses of language to the tune of "s***".

#superhero #character analysis #dc comics #victor fries #mr freeze #comic books #new favorite #villain #heroes and villains #batman #gotham #future hero theory