John Constantine

Did John think Nyx was going to volunteer his blood? No. He didn't think the pop star was even the right fae for the job, but Rain certainly hadn't been. He had faith he'd eventually find a fae that would do the trick.

To get to that fae, though, he'd do whatever he needed to. He wasn't going to just let Fox die. Painfully.

He had agreed to meet at a cafe that he'd never been to and didn't really fit in at. The baristas kept giving him looks as he sat against the window, watching people walk by.

John was up top in the crows nest, a pitiful roost looking up at it, but a space enchanted to be large and comfortable and warm, accomodating even a desk and John's telescope.

He was sitting on the floor, though, comfortable in among the cushions, watching the movement of the backbone of night.

He could hear someone climbing and his belly rumbled at the thought of perhaps getting a late bite from someone.

Q was quite talented and continued to impress John at every turn. It was a good thing, because there were days when John felt he could have chucked the boy back in the ocean. Some days everything was a fight. Some days, Q didn't stop eating. Some days John peeked in at him to see him sleeping simply to remember he loved the little shit.

After breakfast, John told Q to get ready for a trip and to bring his warm robes. He gave Q a few minutes before he opened a portal. He brushed off his questions, even when they stepped into a strange land.

The sky was bright blue, the grass ripe and green. A road rolled on before them and a small village was nestled in a valley. Beautiful, but wind tore down from the high, snowy peaks and cut through even the warm robes.

"Let's get to town," he said, patting Q on the back with a cheerful smile in place.

It had only taken two rumours to draw John from the Lonely Island to the King's Realm. Rumours of a demon John had dispatched some time ago. A demon that may have clawed its way back from Hell.

He'd put an end to this once and for all.

But, if it was the same demon, he knew he'd need help. He'd need very specific help.

And he was pretty sure House was going to tell him to follow the creature when he'd beaten it. Alone.

Still, he had a full pouch of cairn weed and he could be charming.

He knocked on House's door.

John was in town to get more lungwort. He'd nearly smoked all he'd bought. This winter was taking its toll on his breathing. He paid the coin for twice as much so he wouldn't have to leave the tower again for some time.

On the way out of the herbalist, John spotted House and smiled.

He was easy to catch up to.

"House," he called. "Where are you going?"

The winter was miserable. John was tired of the cold. He grumbled as he gathered wood and stoked the fire, magic making it blaze to chase away the morning chill as quickly as possible. He made his tea and smoked his pipe and waited for Winter to turn up. Sometimes he slept late, sometimes John never heard him duck out to bother the chickens or gather dawn mushrooms.

John had a thought and smiled to himself. The midwinter preparations would be well underway in the King's Realm. Maybe he could convince the pixie to come to the market with him.

John led Q into his tower as the pirate king walked back to his ship without looking back. Inside was warm, dark, and quiet. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth and an iron pot bubbled slowly. There was a raven perched on the back of the overstuffed chair that sat in the corner.

"Make yourself at home," John said. "You look cold. Want some tea? I've got supper on the boil, too. Are you hungry?"

Continued from here

"Then we'll learn one another. Take our time," he assured him and turned his head to track kisses along Winter's bare shoulder. "We've got all the time in the world."

[From HERE]

John waited until Eliot had his shirt off, then he moved in closer to touch him. His hands were warm and slow, full of magic and promise.

"You certain about this?" he asked. "I'll let you sleep here either way..."

[From here...]

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Alwyn asked as the credits rolled.

"I absolutely believe in ghosts," John nodded. "I've seen one. I know they're real."