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#constantine simps
nextinline-if · 11 months
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A 100K WORDS IS SO IMPRESSIVE!!(my jaw is legit on the ground) like genuinely bravo 👏 👏 👏 to u and ik it's hard trying to convince urself that ur work is good becuz you feel like it isn't or that that isn't enough even if everyone and everything might prove otherwise (I have a tad but of impostor syndrome myself) but i just want you to know that ur writing is amazing and anything u will write will be absolutely great so dw so much because we all will Def appreciate anything u write <3(also Constantine Dimas✨ wow you made me a simp for that man😔it's shameful)
hope u have a good day/night <3
woah! I feel like I misunderstood the previous messages because I would have clarified that I haven't reached the 100k threshold yet for chapter 2! We are still in the 80k+ range! I should have been more clear that I believe it will be 100k by the time I'm finished. I don't want to mislead anyone on progress so I'm really sorry if I did!
now, all of that said, thank you for your kind words. There's one possible scene for Constantine in this chapter that makes me so happy so I'm looking forward to hopefully getting some reactions. I'm sorry to hear you suffer from imposter syndrome too but glad that we can band together and support each other!!
i really appreciate you!
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radiance1 · 6 months
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Tim traced Bruce's family tree, and that led him down a path where he finds out that apparently his ancestors, the fentonightingales, split off into the Wayne family and the Fenton family and decides to trace down the Fenton family history to see if Bruce had any unknown relatives.
He finds Jack Fenton, his wife, Madeline Fenton, their daughter, Jasmine Fenton, their son, Daniel Fenton, and their second daughter and youngest child, Danielle Fenton.
Then he digs a bit through their social media, finds out that reclusive billionaire and CEO of a morally questionable company, Vlad Masters, is the godfather of the three children. Unfortunately, for some reason it's been hard to find information about Vlad Masters that isn't involving his company or publicity stunts, anything past that and it's only bits and pieces of information.
The biggest piece in his past is that he was trapped in a hospital due to an unknown illness that left him bedridden, and then making an miraculous recovery one day, then going to found Vladco and become a business empire.
He thinks the only reason that tidbit of information was so easy to find was that it tied into his business as some type of origin story.
Tim does a bit more digging and, yet to inform anyone else of his discovery, finds a video titled:
"Pranking my godfather after he stopped trying to get with my mom and kill my dad!"
Which, was a concerning title really, then he found the godfather in question to be Vlad Masters, and the one who recorded said video was Daniel Fenton.
Curious.
He did some more digging.
He didn't really get very far, for some odd reason there isn't a lot of information to scrap together past the surface of Amity Park. Stuff like their museum, being a tourist attraction, it's history, normal stuff like that.
Nothing about the day to day lives of its citizens, nor any videos posted by said citizens or anything of the like.
He did come across some papers posted by the Fentons, however. Some research abouts ghosts, their behaviors and all that.
What he found wasn't pleasant, and he was thinking about telling Bruce before he came across another page.
The Fenton page.
It was, very, very clean of research papers of any kind having to deal with ghosts as a species, and while they are mentioned it's mostly in reference to take about one of their many weapons, or an installation to equip to your home as a safety precaution.
Then he went back to the page where their 'research' is placed, did some digging, and found it to be published by some kind of organization called the Guys In White, or GIW for short. Weird name, but he's seen weirder.
Although, this does cause some concern for him.
Tim, still not telling anyone of the information he's found besides Alfred (You can hide NOTHING from that man), decides to go over to Amity Park to check out the Fenton family firsthand, gather information about these ghosts to decide if magic is involved or not, and find out why the GIW are using the Fentons' name to publish their papers.
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Part 12 - it was just for fools
"We were searching for reasons to play by the rules, but we quickly found it was just for fools." -Mary On A Cross by Ghost
Masterlist Part 11
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Wonder Woman, with her extensive diplomatic training, was the perfect speaker to bring before the United Nations council. 
There was something regal about Diana, something that demanded attention from all genders and ages, her accent smooth and light with eyes hardened with barely concealed anger at what brought her to their door. 
The Anti-Ecto Acts. 
Diana understood war. There was very little she hadn’t experienced where it concerned the subject, from betrayal to a very personal loss, but now she had another chance to draw from her past. 
Prevention of a war. 
Only fools would believe a war against the Infinite Realms, the land of the End and death incarnate, that which holds every afterlife for every belief, was winnable. 
Every death on humanity’s side, was another solider for the King of the End. 
That was yet another point. 
The Once and Future Star King, Vanquisher of the Dark, Protector of the Light, Great One…. Was a Protector spirit. The spirit of a child who died wanting to be saved. 
Diana sighed, awaiting her fellow heroes in the meeting hall, Black Canary, Superman and Batman (with his ever tiny Robin) were already present. Red Robin was sat with a tablet, reading through a collection of data instead of conversing. 
It was almost seven on the dot, the meeting filled with nearly all members of the League, when Constantine portals in with a flask in one hand and a book in the other. 
“Not a word.” He grumbles around an unlit cigarette held between his lips, unceremoniously dropping into an unoccupied seat. 
Despite the surprise of John Constantine being on time for something, much less a Justice League meeting, Diana had other concerns to deal with. 
Namely, the repeal of the Anti-Ecto Acts. 
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An unexpected summoning was a shard of ice in her spine, twisting like a knife of betrayal in the nerves, utter agony. Jazz had little warning, little time to brace herself before she was hooked behind her navel and yanked. 
Thank the Ancients she wasn’t in the shower, because whoever had the audacity to summon the Ghost King was not going to receive an eyeful for their trouble. 
Jazz allowed her armor to materialize, a slick sensation of water down her back soothed the lingering pain of the brutal summons, but her back plate soon settled firmly in place and irritated the nerves more so. 
Just as her helmet locked into place, sealing her fully into her armor, green smoke announced her arrival with a dramatic flair she couldn’t find humor in. 
Rested on one knee, head bowed, the Regent was quite an intimidating sight for the uninitiated. 
Her helmet, full coverage with a crown of green shards embedded into its pulsing ebony metal, only allowed the green tint of her eyes to shine through. Once her head lifted, the several shivers her gaze got proved how effective it was at unnerving others. 
With a breath, the Regent stood. 
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“You have tried to summon the King of the End, why?” 
John Constantine was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was certainly not a fool. He’d been against summoning the Ghost King, knowing full well to whom they would be dragging unwilling instead. Somehow the title of Regent failed to comprehend to most present, which was not Constantine’s fault in the slightest. 
(Hey, at least he was mostly sober summoning, right?) 
(Had to give credit where it’s due.) 
Bats was unamused with Constantine’s first warning of ‘Do not fuck with’ when Phantom had first shown himself, but this was ridiculous really. A message was always better than trying to summon the King, who would want to be interrupted right? 
Yet again, the Magician was overruled. 
(At least he didn’t have to sell his soul this time.) 
(The Phantom already gifted the glued together remnants to his Regent.) 
(Morbid as it was, at least John knew it was in better hands than some half wit demon he’d scammed.) 
No one answered before the Regent spoke with some amusement lacing her words, “I should have known a summon from you, Constantine, would be painful.” 
(Was it a good or bad sign that the Regent didn’t immediately call him ‘Sad Trenchcoat man’?) 
Diana politely interjected, “Greetings, My Lady. We apologize for the unfortunate experience and will endeavor to do better in future meetings.” 
(Good old Diana.)
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“Greetings.” The Regent replied, helmeted head slightly tilted as she studied the others present before her, having been ignored for the time being. 
Wonder Woman pressed a fist over her heart with a slight bow of her head as she spoke again, “May I introduce the Justice League and it’s founders; Batman, Superman, and myself, Wonder Woman. You are familiar with Constantine, who is a member of Justice Dark.” 
“I am the Regent of the Realms, Lady of the Acropolis, you may refer to me as either.” Jazz intoned, serious as was only right for her titles. “I’ll ask once more… Why.” 
Constantine, despite the familiarity he held with Phantom, shivered in the presence of the Regent. The owner of his soul could command he turn on his allies, zap away his free will with only a few words. Sure, he had some doubts that the Regent would, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t. The AEA proved that the Infinite Realms had every right to declare war on the Living and its citizens would be drafted to fight in the Legion, regardless of mortality status. 
John was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was not a soldier or a fool.
He would be called to arms, as a magic user and battle-blooded soldier. There would be no choice, no deal he could make that would see his fate change. 
It was fortunate that the Regent didn’t want a war, but there was only so much she could do to hold back the growing tide of angry entities that wanted vengeance on parents, siblings, and children taken from them. 
(Ancients above and below, he needed a drink.)
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It was times like this that brought the Regent back to her long days of training in the Acropolis. The echo of steel against steel, dodging ecto-blasts, deflecting weapons with her bracelets, Pandora’s steady words…
Pandora was many things- Leader of the Acropolis, Guardian of Hope, teacher, advisor, so on and so forth.
Pandora might be a ghost, an Amazon tasked with guarding her box, a Warrior of the ages past, but she was ultimately the Ancient of Peace. 
The Peace she never knew in life, war-hardened as she was. Raised with one hand clutching a weapon and the other an open palm, Pandora was a diplomat at heart. War had not been kind to her, but still, she taught her pupil (the Regent) the importance of listening. 
Many issues could be solved when one took the time to shut their mouth. 
Draw weapon, draw blood.
Aim at nothing you’re not willing to destroy.
If your opponent believes they have the upper hand, break it.
(These are just a few rules of war.) 
(She knew them all by heart.)
(Each one ingrained on her body, scars a testament to a faith in her training and herself.) 
The only rule Pandora had given her where to concerned Peace was this: 
Reach for it, but know that hearts aren’t so easily swayed as minds. 
It was why Jasmine never bothered trying to negotiate with the GIW. Their hearts were black and there was no changing their minds. 
Here she was, summoned by the Justice League with their own diplomatic trained Amazon at the ready. Pandora would be proud of her sister-in-arms, because despite the Regent’s unknown threat potential Wonder Woman had not reached for the sword at her side. Instead, she’d done a traditional Amazon greeting, from one warrior to another, a sign of respect that Jasmine had not expected to ever receive outside the Acropolis. 
“We had expected to summon the King, but were unaware of a Regent, my lady.” Wonder Woman spoke, but Constantine interrupted whatever she would have said next. 
“We wanted to discuss the possibility of war against the living, Regent.” 
Jasmine snorted, the voice-modulating function of her helmet made it sound funny to her ears, “Blunt as always, Constantine. You’re worried I would order you against your allies?” 
The Sad Trenchcoat Man blinked once, twice, “Bloody Hell, you don’t waste time, do ya?” 
“You possess the power to command Constantine?” 
That question had come from Lady Gotham’s first Knight, steady with no discernible emotion in voice. His hands were resting on his utility belt, which was a bad sign of his current judgment of her character. 
“For the sake of honesty, yes, Dark Knight, as the keeper of his Soul Remnants, I could command the Magician to do my bidding.” The Regent continued, “However, it was a gift and Phantom is fond enough of the Sad one that I wouldn’t use it unless I had no other choice.” 
“What would constitute ‘no other choice’?” 
Huh, Jasmine was starting to understand why Phantom chose Batman to give the Ghost Files too. She could feel the determination and protectiveness radiating off his soul, a familiar (though less powerful) sensation she only got from her little brother. 
“War.” The Regent retorted, “I’m beginning to understand why Phantom would choose you, Knight.” 
Constantine perked up a bit, “Didn’t you avenge him?” 
“Yes.” 
Wonder Woman came forward again, “My Lady, we wish to discuss the conditions of Peace between the Living and the Infinite Realms.” 
Jasmine smiled a bit sadly, though no one could see it, “I would be honored to.” 
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If anyone asked, Red Hood did not swoon when he witnessed his future wife girlfriend kick a man straight in the balls so hard he saw God. 
Jazz was a beacon during a Gotham night, beautiful red hair seeming to catch fire with every light that danced across it, shoulders back and head held high his girl resumed her steady pace towards her apartment. This was a typical night for them, minus the would-be mugger and Jazz being unaware of the Red Hood following from above to make sure she got home safely. 
(Jason hadn’t been able to convince her to carry a gun.)
(Nonetheless, he knew his girl could take care of herself, but that didn’t stop the worry.) 
Hood wasn’t convinced about the safety of the area bordering his Alley, The Ridge,  with two relatively unknown metas acting as it’s Vigilantes and seeming to drive down the crime rate in the neighborhood to near extinction faster than he’d seized control of his own territory. It was odd that the metas weren’t crossing into the Alley, seeming to go around it and more into Gotham proper when they decided to roam, as if they respected the Red Hood claim more than the other bats. 
(Wasn’t that just a hoot.) 
(Two non-bats had more respect for him than his own family.) 
The Ridge was the lesser known little brother to Crime Alley, with its residents being mostly three-jobs and a drug problem demographic, but with Phantom and Regent the area had begun to show a bit more life. Sure, most of the builds were on the wrong side of dilapidated, hanging on with duct tape and a wad of gum, but when it was just bright out enough- no matter the time of day- Phantom’s ice can be seen glinting from miles around as it curved itself around foundations and floors to stabilize the structures. It hadn’t melted in the slightest the two months since it’s been formed. Hood had even tried to get a sample for testing, but the ice would not budge. Hell, he’d even taken a cheap shot at it- nothing. Well, except for the fact that you could now see a bullet encased within the ice. 
Phantom was a chill guy, apparently. 
(Hood internally groaned at the unintentional pun.) 
(Quick mental note made to shoot Dick in… well, the dick.) 
Red Hood had been gritting his teeth against the warm sensations of protect-anxiety-nervous for days, sensing danger every time he closed his eyes. Something had invaded Gotham and was messing with the Pit. 
No, not the Pit. The Pit was gone, no longer bubbling in his gut or green edging his vision, it was gone and replaced with something else. 
Something that gave him trouble, but was definitely a step up from Pit Madness. 
(And what a time for it to vanish, with Jason dating Jazz no more bloody nightmares when she was in his arms.)
He’d followed that ball of anxiety in his chest across Gotham, unconsciously avoiding Bruce’s usual patrol route and he climbed up to one of the gargoyles that kept vigil over the clock tower. Barbie hadn’t opened the comms to ask him what the hell are you doing here, but he wasn’t going to waste what little time he had with Phantom before he had to return to the Alley. 
The kid wasn’t older than Tim, but was ethereal in his form that felt cold to Hood. There wasn’t any sign that Phantom had been hurt by the Drs. Fenton, but Hood was all too aware of how looks could be deceiving. 
(The fuckers had vivisected him.) 
With every word passed between them, had Hood confirming the Ghost Files information to be accurate as far as Phantom was concerned. He was a teenager, a ghost in Gotham who was under the protection of the Regent and Ghost King. 
(Though incredibly corrupted, Barbara had been able to find a few frames of clarity.) 
(Lo and behold, the death of those bastards.) 
(He knew he recognized the armored figure, but couldn’t figure it out.) 
(It was right there on the tip of his tongue.) 
That same ball of anxiety loosened its hold with Phantom, a sense of protect-worry overwhelmed whatever else was in his chest. 
Phantom was a kid, ghost or not, vigilante or not. 
(No more dead robins.) 
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It took two days and twelve hours for Jason to finally connect the dots between Regent and why in Hell he felt he knew the armored knight. 
Jazz was in her kitchen, hair braided and swinging back and forth against her back as she hummed and swayed in time with the soft music playing. His girl looked good in his Gotham Knights t-shirt, shorts revealing her toned thighs and legs, neckline of her borrowed shirt riding low enough to reveal several hickies he’d left on her earlier on the couch. Pride warmed his chest as he watched his darling Jazz, love for her settled deep into his bones. He knew she was the one for him, no going back, even if she didn’t know everything about him-Red Hood, his death, etc.
Jazz was made of steel and iron, forged with love and cracked with betrayal. Who had betrayed her in the past was obvious, her parents, their death must’ve been a mixed bag. Not to mention making the decision to allow their souls to be claimed by the Regent of the Infinite Realms. 
He had no doubt she would be unafraid of his nighttime persona, but he didn’t think he could handle her judgment of his past sins. He loved her too much and wanted to be good. 
The music stopped, dragging Jason out of his thoughts to find Jazz watching him with concern plain on her face. 
“Jace?” She lightly called for him, helpless to her he rose and gently wrapped her in his arms, her head tucked comfortably under his chin. 
“I’m ok, Jazz, just have a lot on my mind.” 
His girl hummed lightly, the sound vibrating slightly through Jason’s chest where her head rested. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
“They’re not worth that much.” 
Jazz pinched his side in retaliation for his lightly self-demeaning comment, but ultimately let it go. Another reason he loved her, she didn’t tolerate his bullshit. She’d been horrified to hear his comments about his self-worth, as much as he was joking, and had firmly threatened to punt his ass into the sun if he didn’t start getting a better self-image. 
To his credit, he listened and began seeing Harley for counseling, which he knew he’d needed when he’d finally gotten a working braincell again after his dip in the line green Kool-aid. He’d put it off long enough, believing that the Pit wouldn’t let him remain calm enough to discuss his abandonment issues and mental health. 
The Pit wasn’t churning in his gut anymore so any anger he felt was all Jason’s, and Jason’s alone. It was oddly satisfying to know that he was once again responsible for how he handled his anger. 
Jazz never really demanded anything, only insisting on some boundaries at the start of their relationship when it was difficult to keep his hands to himself while she was in his sight. His darling was the same this why she set those boundaries so they could get to know each other without it just devolving into sex. 
Sure, they have done some heavy petting and Jason definitely liked leaving his mark on her, but they hadn’t felt compelled to go further. Now that they had been together a little over a month the heat between them settled into a slow summer in his blood, no more threat of them acting like a pair of degenerate dumbasses with lesser brain function. 
Not that Jason would ever be against having sex with Jazz, he loved her and wanted to know her in every sense, but he had to confess several things before he could allow himself to be put off guard with his pants down. The big Y-incision scar on his chest was horrific and Jason didn’t want to scare his girl away before he had a chance to come clean. He wanted, no, needed Jazz to accept every part of him- life, death, Jason and Red Hood. He was ready for her to know the truth. 
What he wasn’t ready for, like last time, was the bomb.
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A/N: Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat! Great beta reader, really appreciate the quick response and notes. Thanks!
We're gonna have a bit of a time jump between the summoning and the cliffhanger, which means that Jazz being summoned happens after. I wrote it this way for a reason... I think. Don't quote me on that.
Anyways, special red tint this time, because I just watched Death in the Family for the first time before writing this part and...I didn't like it. No, I'm not sure why I don't either. Jason is my favorite character for a reason.
Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go read Wayne family adventures to make myself feel better.
Thanks for reading!
PS: 3k words???
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hell420er · 7 days
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John nose... pretty.,. kissable...,,, lil scrunch,, and the eyebrow furrow,,, oughug
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sailorbowie · 2 years
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I feel so bad for neil gaiman right now, he has every right to be proud of what the Sandman has become, but now he has to sit here and watch us all drool over Dream, simp for Constantine or Desire, and even us sickos who were rooting for and are down abysmal for the Corinthian.
neil. neil. if evil then why hot? riddle me that.
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house-of-slayterr · 8 months
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Ok, My Mega Dream Team for the night…
Hear me out Yall.
Billy and Stu
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Bo Sinclair
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The Lost Boys + Micheal
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Murder Husbands
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Daryl Dixon:
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Peepaw:
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Jerry Dandrige:
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John Constantine
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Venom:
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I could take them… “in a fight” 😩
Tag: @joelsgeetar @oceansrose2002 @emeraldfangs @kados-of-chaos @willowbrookesblog @mothmans-kingdom
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renrenkaaa · 2 years
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An Anniversary piece I made featuring my top 3 favorites in the game!
.....I'm sorry Charlie don't look at me I actually started this before you came out in Traum okay
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wakkoroni · 10 months
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So was no one going to tell me that John Constantine is fine as hell????? Like wow not me simping over a fictional character BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM
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LIKE-
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queenofwoldrans · 2 years
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If I had a nickel for every-time a character portrayed by Jenna Coleman gives a lecture to an immortal ancient being about humanity then I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. 😌
Doctor Who
Clara Oswald to the Doctor:
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"Don't you ever tell me to take the stabilizers off my bike. And don't you dare lump me in with the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our Earth, Doctor, you breathe our air. You make us your friend, and that is your moon too. And you can damn well help us when we need it."
The Sandman (2022)
Johanna Constantine:
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“What is wrong with you? You want your sand back so that you can save all of humanity, well, here she is! But we’re all just Roderick Burgess to you. All you care about is your sand. Your power. What is the point of you? Well, you got your sand back. Why are you still here if you won’t help?”
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awstens-vagina · 1 year
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WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON
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badcatrobot · 11 months
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Found out I actually am a whore. Just not for real men
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thesleepy1 · 2 years
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Unrelated but Johanna Constantine is stunning!
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jesncin · 8 months
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Ironic, Ma'al simps for king shark (understandably), who is an ex of John Constantine, who according to you he probably had a thing with
Similarly ironic, the green lantern he simps for isn't the one who was implied to have slept with Constantine
the DC universe is so interconnected in the only way that matters
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radiance1 · 8 months
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My crackship in a nutshell
(Phoenix)Vlad: I am a loyal man. No temptation can stray me from my love for Madeline.
Danny: Yo Vlad! There's a random British Warlock outside that looks like a wet cat who smokes.
Constantine: [Struggles to light up a cig for whatever reason.]
Vlad: Heavy breathing and intense simping
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babayagakeanu · 2 months
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Dating a jealous John Constantine (p2)
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Before you and John got together, you had your fun, and you had your friends. You were always headed to the next bar with your friends when you first met John in passing. Tall, dark, and handsome, you were immediately drawn to him.
You saw him again when you were closing up your antique bookstore and he stopped in.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed for the night.” You stare at him as he lights up a cigarette. “And we definitely don’t allow smoking in here, either.”
”Sorry, doll.” Flicking out his cig, he walks up to your counter. “I need a book, and I’m hoping you have it.” He was a little pale, like he’d seen a ghost, and if it wasn’t for your terrified scream at the looming dark figure behind him, you and him would probably be toast right about now.
Ever since he saved both your lives that night, you agreed to drive him around jobs in the city, and it was fun and terrifying at the same time.
he’d started to grow close with you after some time, the sound of your laughter making his stomach do cartwheels, the way your hair smelled right after your shower, and the way you applied your lotion to your legs had him stiffening in his pants. Doing this in front of him was an innocent act on your part, but you were oblivious to the torture you were causing.
Asking john to fasten your necklaces was a common reoccurrence. He was tall and could see the back of your neck anyways so it was just easier for him to do it. He’d fasten the necklace, all the while, holding his breath as to not sigh out in part of the sweet smell wafting from your neck; some old perfume of yours.
You had gotten your first boyfriend some months after meeting John, still oblivious to the huge crush he had on you. Everything was going fine, until John started to act weird around you and your partner.
He’d come out just wrapped in a towel from the shower, and you’d catch yourself staring at him, mouth catching flies as he states, “oh, sorry guys, thought I’d be alone tonight.” He smirks, and he knows what he’s doing.
Your boyfriend would try and talk to john about getting you gifts, asking what you’d like and John would give him wrong answers out of pure jealousy.
Don’t even get me started on how he would be starring daggers at the guy whenever he would kiss or touch you in front of John.
Dude is full on simp-mode at this point
When you finally break up with your current toy, John takes every opportunity to make you realize he’s it for you.
Purposefully placing things on the top shelf so you’d ask him too bring it down, his hands grabbing at your waist, sending shivers up your spine as he steadies himself.
The trailing of his fingers on your nap as he fasten your necklace once more.
The flirtatious teasing and glances from across the breakfast table.
One night, after getting ready to go out with your friends, decked out in makeup and one tight dress, he snaps.
“Don’t go.” He states, standing in front of the doorway.
”John, don’t be an ass, I’m going out with my friends. Please move.”
“I said, don’t go.” He stands up from leaning against the door wand walked towards you like a predator tracking his prey. “I said, don’t go because I don’t want to see you with anyone else but me.”
Your mouth opens and shuts as your brain rewires itself. “What do you mean, John?” You finally finds the words as you realize you’ve backed yourself into a corner.
”I love you, y/n. i fucking love you and it hurts me to see another man touch what’s rightfully mine.” He kisses you hard, and you find yourself melting, wrapping yourself in cig smoke and whiskey as the door closes, cutting out the sound of your laughter and John’s.
——————-
I’m sorry if this sux. I’ve been dealing with a nasty head cold but i wanted to get this out for you guys. Please enjoy!!
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Hello how are you? I'm going to request an imagine from Morpheus interested in Lucifer's twin sister, in the imagine Morpheus will get the bag of sand that was with Johanna and the reader was with her since they are very good friends, and the reader offers to go with Morpheus to the hell with him, he accepts since he wants to spend more time with her, reader being lucifer's twin having the title of star of the night she and lucifer have the same powers because they are twins she is still in heaven being an archangel when lucifer went to hell she keeps visiting him, reader and lucifer have a great relationship
Harbinger Of The Dusk
Dream of the Endless x Angel!Reader
Summary: After a century of being apart from your love, you meet again with the help of Constantine and accompany him to retrieve his lost item from your twin's domain.
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: fem!reader, simp!dream, beloved!lucifer, some hurt/comfort, typos, etc.
Part 2 kinda "Holy"
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A/N: the rest of your asks is below the cut! Yes hello nonnie. Its been ages HAHAH but i am well. As well as someone doing their finals is HAHAHHA. Tbh i remember i was really excited when i got this ask cos its so fresh and i love Gwendoline christie sm that i began writing it straight away but then it died 💀 BUT THEN i read the sandman comics in our school library and felt a really strong desire to write for dream and include hell somehow THEN I REMEMBERED THIS REQ and fell in love with your idea all over again so im using your req to scratch both our itches <3 <3 although I will say since then, my image of the ruler of hell has changed dramatically after reading the comics. by the time i wrote in lulu, it was comic!lucifer in my head and not gwen. still referred to lightbringer with fem pronouns <3 cos why not. this was a treat to write in all honesty, so i hope you like this nonnie <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx
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Dream was tired, fatigued, completely and wholly exhausted. He barely made it back to the Dreaming, only to see it in rubble and ruins. At this point, he was, too, falling apart.
But then Lucienne appeared, Lucienne appeared and reached out to him and then suddenly, he couldn't fall apart; he wouldn't.
He knew what he had to do, what he had to do for himself, for Lucienne, for the Dreaming.
And so he spoke to the Fates, and now here he was, with this occultist detective, Johanna Constantine, who had woken up from a bad dream.
She shoots awake, clutching her chest. She pushes back into her bed when he catches Dream's nearing figure, "Constantine."
"Stay back! I'm warning you!" she shouts, pointing a finger.
Dream, although unappreciative of her authoritative words, allows her the courtesy of catching her breath and wits, as she was still reeling from her nightmare.
"I am Lord Morpheus, Shaper of Forms, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, Dream of the Endless."
Johanna makes a face as she heaves. She relaxes suddenly, as if deciding he was no longer a threat to him, though he broke into her apartment, "wait, Dream of the Endless? That's you?"
"Indeed."
She huffs, leaning against her pillow, "huh, how'd you get out?"
Dream stiffens. Johanna awaits his response. She does not get one.
She decides to ask another question, "does this mean I'll be sleeping better now?"
Dream does not reply this time either, but Johanna does; she responds to herself, "well of course not, Johanna, people like you don't sleep well."
Finally, Dream speaks, "how do you know of this?"
Johanna turns to Dream. She raises a brow, "about me not sleeping well? Well, duh, it's me that-"
"About my imprisonment?" Dream cuts her off coldly.
Johanna clamps her lips together upon hearing this. She watches him for a moment. She sniffles and crosses her arms, "her."
"... her?" Dream slowly repeats.
She nods, "her."
When the woman does not clarify or continue, he begins to feel his patience thin and his anger flare. The room begins to darken, his form begins to grow. He was in no mood for cryptic responses.
Johanna had not yet caught on to this, which was why she frivolously thought of adding, "the star of the night."
Dream quickly snaps out of his trance.
Johanna turns to her bed then back to him. She watches as Dream reacts to her words. He looks like he was kicked in the gut. He looks winded. She carefully says, "isn't she your girlfriend?" She narrows her eyes and pushes her blankets off her, "she doesn't get personal, rarely talks about herself in the name of selflessness, but she loves to talk about whom she loved and I can tell-"
"How do you know her?" Dream quips.
Johanna makes a face before she gets off her bed, "she's an angel, I'm an exorcist. It makes sense, no?"
"Where?"
"Where?" Johanna repeats, shaking her head, "where what?"
"Where do you meet her?"
She furrows her brows, "why d'you a-- you want me to take you to-"
"Yes. Take me to her," he quickly responds, "but first, you must help me retrieve something."
After the Endless and the exorcist retrieve the something, that was a bag of sand, Johanna drives them to a home for the aged. It was called Dusk Haven. Immediately, Dream knows this is the right place. He hastily exits the car and stares at the building, wanting nothing more to run inside and look for the angel, but is seemingly unable to move from where he stood.
Johanna steps out of her car and walks over to the Dream King, cocking her head to the side, "come on then."
For a moment, Dream watches before following after her.
I stop what I am doing when I feel a familiar presence near me.
I hear my name get called out and I turn to Margaret, the old lady I had been conversing with, offering her a smile and quick regard as I tell her I must do something.
"Alright, but don't be too long, pretty girl."
I nod, "I will do my best, my dear."
I before I get out of the hallway, I open the door and find Johanna passing by. She turns and blinks, lips parting at the sight of me, cheeks tinting red. I smile, "Constantine."
She stares. I hear her breath hitch. She clears her throat, "Angel."
"My love."
My stomach drops.
I turn and see the face of Dreams. My lips part. I whisper, "my love."
I walk over to him and seal him into a tight hug, feeling my eyes water and my throat and chest constrict in grief and longing, "my dream."
"My angel," he mutters against me, sealing his arms around my form. Dream crumbles into me. I feel him crumble against my form. I feel him release a tight tension in his spine. I feel him relax and find refuse in him. My body calls out to him. I missed him so.
Johanna watches then huffs, "I reckon my work here is done."
Dream's eyes dart to her and he nods once, "yes, thank you, Constantine."
I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into his neck.
She nods, "see ya, Sandman," then walks off.
A few elderly fellows pass us in the hall as we continue to find solace in each other's arms.
"How lovely."
"Get a room!"
"Oh I remember when Gertrude and I-"
"I'm walkin' 'ere."
"Such a stunning girl with such a strange, scrawny boy."
I pull away and take his face in my palms. I trace his cheeks with my thumbs and brush his dark hair out of his face. I inspect every inch of him. He was whole, but he was also not. His face, normally, was angular and bony, but never like this, never.
Dream looks upon me with his hands resting my waist. He allows me to touch him as I please, and while I knew I was always special in this, I knew that he was never too keen on any bold form of affection, as it was not his nature.
"I was forbidden to interfere," I mutter lowly as my hands roam him. I avoid his gaze.
He rubs my back, "I know," he pulls me close, "I know this," he sighs, "I do not fault you for not coming to me."
I look back at him with sorrow, "you must have been greatly distressed," I frown, taking in his sullen form and tired eyes. I have not seen him in such a state. He has taken many forms throughout his life, and though most of them were slender and lean, never did he look so thin or hollow the way he did now.
I blink away my tears, "there has not been a day that I did not want to go to you, Dream."
He places his hands atop mine and leans into my touch, "and there has not been a day I did not want to see you," he leans in and kisses me. I immediately reel him and and deepen our exchange. As our lips and tongue dance together, he briskly pulls away to speak, "to have you touch me lik-"
"GET A ROOM!"
"CALLAGHAN, YOU PUT A SOCK IN IT!"
I pull away from him and turn to the arguing seniors in the hall. I look back at Dream, who leans back into me and clutches my body close. I sigh ands him and lead him down the hall, "perhaps we should get a room, my love."
Dream looks at our joined hands as we exit the home for the aged. He thinks there is a great comfort in knowing that the angel before him is just as honeyed and tender as before, that she lives her life in servitude to others still, that after a century, there is a constant that is the she, the North Star of Dreams.
But he remembers he did not have time for tender honey, though he missed the taste so badly. No time, not at present, "my love."
I stop in my tracks when we get outside and turn to him.
"I do not wish to be parted from you," he starts, stepping close to me, caressing my cheek, "but there are things I must first do."
I knit my brows before I nod, "of course, Dream," I shake my head, "I know you value your duty most of all," I place a hand on his cheek, "and I shall do them with you."
Dream stills as I rub his cheeks. I look at him through my lashes, "I, too, do not wish to be parted from you. I beg that you do not tell me you came only to see me and leave."
He lets out a breath and leans his forehead onto mine. He closes his eyes when I move to kiss him. One I pull away, he speaks out my name. He speaks it with so much reverence I feel my wings flutter from behind its glamour of invisibility.
"I do not mean to deny either of us of each other's company, but you see, my helm has been bartered off to a demon," he pulls away and takes my hand, "I must go to retrieve it in hell, and taking you may cause you quarrel with your blood that I do not wish to happen."
"Oh," I mutter softly, "one of dearest Lucifer's acolytes has your artifact?"
He nods, "it remains to be seen."
"Then do not fear. I shall accompany you to my half's domain."
A line forms between his brows.
I chuckle softly and smoothen the crease on his forehead, "do not trouble yourself with useless worrries, my Dream. You could not cause strife between us that is not already there."
I grab his hand and breath in deeply, allowing myself to take on my truer form. I pull him up as I stretch my dark wings out and begin to rise from the ground, "my sibling is capable of only bearing one grudge against me."
Dream holds onto me as we rise up into the sky. He utters, "not joining her uprising."
"Yes," I clutch him tightly against me, "I am certain though Lightbringer will be most pleased to see me."
And so when we get to hell, Dream and I stand before the gates, awaiting for the keeper to come. Once the wretched thing appears, Squatterbloat, I speak to the demon guard and announce ourselves, "I am the Nightstar, Harbinger of the Dusk, Star of the Night, Bringer of Darkness. With me is Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, Shaper of Forms, Prince of Stories. We have come to speak with the my blood half, Morningstar, Bringer of Light, Ruler of Hell."
For a moment, I see the demon is too stunned by my appearance and glory to speak. He begins to chant, "holy, holy-"
"Open the gates, Squatterbloat."
He looks upon me then grins, "an angel of the most high, in hell?" he laughs, "you have fallen to the depths to join our ruler."
I narrow my eyes at him, "do I look felled to you?"
"Your feet touch upon the ground," Squatterbloat says, looking down to my shos.
"What do you know? I live amongst the people, and I am not yet in hell."
"Oh, your glory excites me-"
"Chose your words wisely, or I shall smite you."
He tries to reach out to my form, "oh, holy," his paw raises, "I shall love to defile yo-"
"You will regret attempts," Dream quips with a look of disdain.
I blind him with darkness. The demon yelps.
I rise from the ground look down at the him, "you will find that I will not be ridiculed by a lowly imp."
I watch as Squatterbloat withers away, writhing in pain and confusion. I blink at thw pathetic display then turn to Dream, reaching out to him. He takes my hand and I decide to fly us over the gates instead.
"Is this proper, my love?" Dream mutters as we soar over the damned who wail and lift up their hands, calling out to me for deliverance.
I make an annoyed sound, "I will soon destroy the abominations here if we interact with them any more. The ruler of hell would surely appreciate that less."
Dream does not argue, "very well, my love."
When we descend into the heart of hell. I release Dream and prop him down on his feet, but I, myself, do not touch my feet upon the stone. I would both be desecrating myself and my beloved's domain by doing do.
"Lightbringer," Dream calls out, "Morningstar! I call upon you."
There is a crash.
"WHO IS THERE? WHO INSULTS ME BY ENTERING MY DWELLING WITHOUT-" the ruler of hell stops when she gazes upon me. The Fallen blinks, "ah," she releases a breath and smiles, raising her arms out to me, "sister."
I smile back, "my half."
I soar over to Lucifer, placing my hands upon her face. We kiss and I take in her appearance. She looks well. "It is wonderful to see you, beloved"
She nods, "it is wonderful to see you."
There is a groan from the side.
Mazikeen looks up at me and gawks at my form. I turn to her and her half-rotten from, and smile, "greetings, Mazikeen."
She mumbles a garbled greeting in response, eyes wide in wonder of my figure and cloak of holy darkness.
Lucifer turns to Dream, "why have you brought an Endless with you, beloved?"
I turn to Lucifer then to Dream, "there is something that he wishes to retrieve from a demon."
Lucifer crosses her arms and tilts her head, "ah, I see. The Endless has been bested by one of my children."
"I am not bested, Morningstar," Dream speaks, "I was imprisoned for a century and with that time, my helm was taken and traded to a demon."
My twin purses her lips, "I see," she waves a hand, "do not dawdle then, Dream of the Endless, speak the name of the demon and I shall call upon them."
Lucifer and I look at him.
Mazikeen hisses when her hand burns when she tries to touch me.
We turn to her.
"Mazikeen!" Lucifer scolds.
Mazikeen apologizes, pulling back. I look at her as she clutches her rotting arm that was now further mangled.
"I do not know the name of the demon," Dream replies.
"I see," Lucifer repeats, "then we shall call upon them all."
The demons, djinns, damned, and all clamor at the foot of the stronghold. Dream and I walk to the edge, looking out the opening, beholding the view before us. I look out to them as they see my form and praise and curse me all at once. I feel revulsion, a thick bile rise up my throat. I spit it out my side.
Lucifer walks next to me, laughing lowly, "you insult me, my blood."
I turn to her and offer a half-sympathetic look, "it is my nature. Do not be insulted."
Dream looks upon the pit and tries to make out one who has his helm. He listens to them and their dreams. He cannot isolate the cries. He pulls out his bag of sand and scoops a clump, breathing out to it, causing it to flurry over the entities. It then summons the demon that has his artifact.
With a whiff of sand, the demon is brought before us.
"Choronzon," my twin and I speak at the same time.
"My Lord," he bows to my twin. When he turns to me, he falls onto his hands and knees, "my- my-" he starts and tries to lift his eyes, but he cannot look upon my form. Choronzon turns away and shields himself, "I- how may I serve?"
Lucifer watches as Choronzon retreats me. Once he is far and look back at her, she points, "the Dream King wishes to retrieve something from you."
"Greetings, Choronzon," Dream addresses.
Choronzon, now turned away from me, regains composure, "Dream King." He grins.
"I have come to retrieve the helm that was stolen from me."
He grins even wider, sharp teeth laced with malevolence, "stolen? Me?" he places a hand on his chest, "you flatter me too greatly."
"I do not speak to flatter you," Dream retorts.
Choronzon laughs and licks his hand, wiping the side of his head. He basks in self-indulgence.
"Well, have you the helm, demon?" I call, narrowing my eyes upon his disgusting form.
He cannot bare to look at me but he replies, "I don't know of a helm."
"You cannot deceive us," my twin and I speak in unison once again.
Choronzon turns to his master, evading me, "right. My liege, the helm is in my clutch after I traded with something. It is mine. I have broken no laws of hell in gaining it," he turns to Dream, "it's mine."
"Very well," Lucifer says, turning to the Endless as well, "what say you, Dream? I shall not assert myself to a child that has kept my laws."
Choronzon is smug. Dream tilts his head at the demon, "it is not yours to keep, just as it was not something to have been traded for."
Choronzon shrugs then smiles, "then you challenge me?"
I scoff.
Lucifer's lips curl.
Mazikeen watches.
Dream scowls. He thinks about his condition, and how he was not yet strong enough to fight. I watch him, feeling the agitation rise around him. We all can sense it. I knit my brows when he finishes debating and states, "very well."
Choronzon beams.
"No," clatters a sword, "I disagree, demon," I announce, pointing my blade upon his neck. I take my full angel form, stretching my wings. It glitters with darkness as I hover above the creature.
Choronzon shrieks and topples back, the mere presence of my weapon overpowering him already.
"MASTER!" Choronzon calls as he shields himself from me, turning to my sibling for aid.
I press nearer with a look of fury.
Lucifer looks upon her demon and his pathetic form on the ground and watches him shrivel. She crosses her arms while doing so.
"You will soon perish if you do not release what you hoard, Choronzon," my voice echoes and my eyes blaze with darkness, "I will smite you that none of your vileness shall remain, as though it never was. Is that what you wish, deceitful creature?"
"MASTER!" Choronzon calls, screwing his eyes shut until he is at the edge of the room.
Dream gazes at the demon curling up in terror.
The miscreant calls out master again.
"She asks you a question, dear Choronzon," Lucifer says, "do you wish to see the power of the one favored by most high?"
"NO!"
Lucifer raises her hands and shrugs, "then you know what you must do."
Choronzon immediately brings out the helm and throws it away with desperation, "MERCY!"
I pull back and mellow my form, allowing my weapon to dissipate into the air, "this is not mercy, demon."
Lucifer nears Choronzon as he shivers. He reaches out to her garments and cries out, "master-"
"I am sorely displeased with you," she says, looking out to her people, "where are the twins Agony and Ecstasy? Take him away."
Choronzon screeches as he is taken away. He begs all the way down.
Dream picks up his artifact and finds himself sighing in relief.
Lucifer turns from Choronzon with a blank expression, watching as he is dragged away in chains, to me, lips turning into a frown, "that was hardly fair, my half."
I turn to her and shake my head, "I am incapable of hardly fair, beloved. You know this."
"I know this," Lucifer sighs. She looks to Dream as he puts his helm on, "and you. You use my beloved as leverage to beseech me. You have acted most wrongly."
"I did not wish to bring her with me, but you will find that she insisted," Dream says, reaching out to me. I move towards him and take his had.
"Thank you, Lightbringer," Dream nods in regard.
Lucifer scoffs, "thank me?" She laughs, "so you have your helm. Tell me, then, why I should not keep you here?"
I furrow my brows at her look of anger, "my half-"
Lucifer raises a finger. I hold my tongue.
Dream looks upon at her as she walks over with a grimace.
I watch as she stares him down.
"Well?" she imposes, "can you not think of one good reason for me to release you? Or will you use my half as leverage again?"
"An Endless has no place in hell."
Lucifer's lips curl, "and yet you see, you have no power here. It is not by your own power that you have come, and I will not allow you insult me further by using my sister as your chaperon."
I look at Dream, tightening my grip upon him, wanting nothing more than to speak on his behalf in this moment.
He is silent for a long moment
She grins, pleased with herself for besting Dream of the Endless.
Seeing her like this makes my stomach roll. My heart aches at sight of her unquenchable thirst for power. I begin to recall her fall I feel my eyes water at her self-importance. She wounds me deeply
Lucifer catches my express but offers me no pity nor remorse. Instead she raises her nose with arrogance and asserts, "you shall not take him out, beloved. I will hound him, if you do."
"But he is set to rebuild his own domain," I mutter through tears, "you will not keep him here, devil."
"Then he shall give me reason not to, angel."
Dream turns to me and wipes away my tears, "reason?" he starts, "power? You say I have no power here, but tell me," he turns to Lucifer, "what then would be hell without its dreams?"
My half throws her head back and laughs, "hell has no need for dreams, Dream King."
"No?" Dream pulls me towards him, "so I ask," he turns to the legion of damned, "what would hell be if it could not dream of heaven?"
I lift up my eyes to Dream.
Lucifer stills.
I look at my beloved lover then my beloved sibling. I wipe tears.
I feel a fury bubble from within my half. It tears at me. It makes my face harden. It guts me.
It was plain to see that Dream had given reason.
"Come, my love," Dream mutters softly, leading me off as he began go walk away, "let us leave this place."
I nod and allow Dream reel me away like a ballon. I give ruler of hell one last look, "farewell, beloved."
Lucifer glares then turns away.
Dream and I navigate hell as he walks and I float. The damned part for us to give us clear passage.
Lucifer watches, looking down upon her domain, tears streaking down her face, "one day, we shall destroy you."
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