independent private & selective rp blog for zatanna zatara of dc comics. written by billy / seth / joe. based on vibes mostly. read rules before interacting. affiliated with @const4ntine.
links: rules. about. pinterest. playlist. memes.
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@zat4nna
independent private & selective rp blog for zatanna zatara of dc comics. written by billy / seth / joe. based on vibes mostly. read rules before interacting. affiliated with @const4ntine.
links: rules. about. pinterest. playlist. memes.
❛ who says life is fair ? ❜
here it lies the gentle yet obvious reminder of why they haven't talked to one another in so long. this whole back and forth between them, it seems to be unavoidable. john constantine is a miserable man at times, and that haunts everyone around him. he doesn't need the guilt, he carries enough with him. but zatanna grows exasperated by the minute.
she's feeling too much perhaps a lot. she thinks of the girls like her, scared. worried. alone. with powers they seemingly cannot control. and she feels something else, it's beyond empathy and understanding. and zatanna does not know where constantine is coming from. these days she rarely does.
"spare me the dramatics, john." alone, she is incredibly alone. by choice or by fate who can really know. and that is also constantine's fault. "-you do not need to keep up the sad little miserable man act with me." she crosses her arms over her chest, purple gaze looking at him. it's not hatred. it's something else in the middle of the longing. she walks closer, entering his space is a dangerous game. the kind both of them loose everytime. "if there's something we can do about the poor girl together. then, why shouldn't we? life isn't fair but. maybe we can be."
"not a social call, then?" ha. she's all business these days -- he can tell by the set of her shoulders, the artificial calm on her face. it's a good laugh -- the idea that either of them could focus on all business, without the entire bloody mess of their shared history staring them in the face. without nick haunting them even if he's still alive. whatever one could consider 'living', anyway, if it's in avernus.
john lifts the cup to his lips and takes his time drinking, like it's the good stuff, like he's really savoring it instead of just enjoying making her wait. he's not above this pettiness either -- and anyway, she started it. quite busy, his ass.
"funny. i seem to remember last time you wanted to talk in private," and john leans in, lowering his voice like he's telling a secret, like he doesn't want the other patrons to overhear. (another joke: as if they're the hottest drama in here, and anyone else is even remotely interested in overhearing.) softly, in her ear: "you were wearing that sheer little number with the bows."
quickly as it appeared, john's dickish smile fades to match her veneer of polite neutrality. he moves out of her space, stands, and tosses a few coins on the bar to cover the drink. feigns a mocking little bow towards her. "lead the way, my lady."
zatanna barely holds back the need to shake her head. she keeps her self poised and stoic. social call. not in a million years, john constantine is a bad habit. difficult to quit. not when the temptation is there. settling in her is then a cascade of memories long buried. and she swears he is trying to be more of a nightmare than usual.
there's goosebumps on her skin, maybe the instinct that comes with knowing what it is to have him upclose and personal under different circumstances. she shivers, does her best to contain it before she is hit with a wave of indignation. how dare he. and she should've seen it coming. she looks around the bar. before clearing her throat.
she cannot stand his face. regret does not begin to cover it. before she can go off on him he stops smiling, and he isn't so close. and zatanna desperately wishes to strangle him, smite him whatever comes first. "i did not think i was going to regret this so fast. this must be a new record for you." she straightens out her shoulders. before looking at him. she rolls her eyes, affection wrapped tightly in her heart. she holds onto the hood of her cape, as she walks off and away.
zatanna attempts to remember just how severe this thing is. and what's at stake. she leads his to a dark alley one where she magics a door that leads back to the temple. it slides upwards for both him and her. this place only they know of, away from prying eyes and ears. as they enter the torches of the place light up purple, until the big bowl in the middle of the room lights with regular fire, enough light to have a decent conversation in.
"i do not know how to even start this but. i suppose i can just cut right into it. for both our sakes." she takes her hood off. "there's been an ongoing search for the vestiges. not entirely sure about who wants them or for what they could want it. i just. i didn't think it would be a good idea if it was me the one to find that information out."
it's a lot said. and she let's it linger, for both him and her. looks at him with purple eyes that seem to be pleading with him. unconciously.
i like the idea of zatanna having a secret middle name as to avoid people using her full name for magic purposes
hi
hi like this for memes from zatanna !
❝ do i have to say ta - da at the end of a fight? because i really don't think i have the sort of flair for that. ❞ huntress landed on the roof, already moving to the next edge. grappling hook, swing, jump. continue. ❝ ta - da! yeah, see? that's gonna have to be on you. ❞
@zat4nna liked for a short starter.
purple eyes track huntress, looking at her from above, flying comes second nature to her now. it's a bit thrilling, to be able to go out there on the streets. sometimes the mundane and the magical clash where one least expects it. zatanna is always impressed whenever anyone has some sort of athletic prowess.
in this line of work, it's common but it does not make it any less fun to watch. "-no, no, you do not have to. you have your own flair, but i am glad to give you some pointers." she lands on the edge, extending a practiced hand with an implied ta - da ! "see?" yeah, she's showing off now.
continued from here.
john doesn't remember the last time he's slept this deeply, this comfortably. the mattress is soft and giving, and there's someone's voice -- a woman's voice -- zee calling his name, but the lure of drifting back to the bliss of unconsciousness is calling, and she has to shake him to get him to banish the idea.
he groans, his breath sour in his mouth. "zee, love, d'you mind keeping it down a bit? some of us're sleeping, here." it's less said, more mumbled into the pillow, but surely she's got the picture.
when it becomes clear that this perfectly reasonable answer isn't going to satisfy her, john rolls over, squinting against the bright sunlight. clearly they'd forgotten to close the shades last night, in...wherever they happen to find themselves. a hotel room, likely. somewhere expensive, judging by the furniture (even the smashed bits) which meant john had either won big at cards or they'd used zatanna's credit card. vegas. jesus, that was it. he'd come to visit her show in vegas, and they'd decided to have a little fun.
there's a new weight on his ring finger -- cold and metallic, but john doesn't move to examine it, in hopes that it will somehow escape zatanna's attention.
well, at least they're not being attacked by demons just yet, which has been the culprit for a few of his ruder awakenings. although come to think of it, zatanna sounds just as panicked as if they were. which means -- yeah, she's spotted her own ring. christ, his head hurts.
he recognizes the stone in the ring on zatanna's hand -- it's a black diamond from the depths of the now-collapsed azaroth catacombs (that raven bint would have a fit if she knew he had it, but he'd won it fair enough in a wager in sheffield a few years back). it would be worth a small fortune on the black market, but more importantly the color, the way it absorbed light, had reminded him in that moment of zatanna's hair when she wore it down, and he'd carried it around aimlessly in an inner pocket ever since. of course he'd put it in a damn engagement ring last night, like a right sentimental bastard.
so, they'd gotten married during their night on the town. christ, he needs a cigarette, especially if he's going to be forced to listen to a zatanna scolding this early in...well, whatever time it is.
"have a good time last night, love?" there is, he notices now, a crumpled veil and a white dress discarded somewhere near the bed. they'd really broken out the finery for this one.
her head is throbbing and she feels sick, it's not. it's not the getting married thing that she is disturbed by, it's the way it happened. no planning, and while neither of them have any blood relatives that would need to be here that does not mean that zatanna doesn't have anyone else in her life that she would want here. she does. in fact. constantine stirs in bed, and stares the way she had been at the band on her finger. with the most peculiar stone. (she senses something in it. and she adores it, it's not too small it's not too big and it's uniquely her. she loves it. she hates this. everything's wrong.)
"well john, i wouldn't know because apparently we had a whole distillery to drink last night and if i try to produce a thought from yesterday's activities it's as if someone's dropped an anvil on my head." it comes and goes in flashes, but the details are a blur. drowned in a haze. zatanna cannot remember her own wedding. oh gods. the guilt slowly creeps in, they did this wrong. and they did it. and she cannot recall it. "the minute you walked in i should've sent you back through that revolving door. i thought, oh this is nice. finally, together in a situation that doesn't involve us returning demons to hell or breaking reality. this will be a nice little break for us." and she can't stop, she rubs her eyes, does not remember the last time she looked and felt like this.
"i cannot believe it. i truly cannot believe it. where did we even go to do it? where's the certificate? who were our witnesses? oh. i don't know if i want to know." she did not wear her mother's shoes, nor did she wear her father's gloves. it's wrong, and they're no longer kids running about the world to just. be doing things like this. (she does not want to admit that this type of commitment scares her, and that while she hates it, there's never been another person she's thought about marrying other than john.) she sighs, exasperated, angry almost. before she reaches out for his hand, inspects it to find a matching band on his finger. her usual instinct is to fix things. but what is there to fix here? she can't think, and it's not as if this is permanent, but john has never been the marrying type. she has never been the marrying type, weddings and marriage had always been just. cute things to daydream on. she rubs the ring on his finger. almost entranced by it. "john, i will banish you from vegas. don't think i won't, you truly have outdone yourself this time around." she's avoiding blame. partially, a mixed bag. she does not let go of his hand. her eyes focused on him, and how he looks particularly good when he's barely awake. she hates him. she could kill him. and yet. she looks at him with some softness, hidden beneath the lingering anger.
you'd think after so long, he'd be used to it. that feeling he gets when she's around; sparks lighting up his spine. nick used to chalk it up to zee's magic, that electricity charging the air around her. john constantine isn't sure that's all it is.
zatanna is a talented spellcaster and an amazing performer, but if there's one thing that doesn't come naturally to her, it's blending in. he sees her out of the corner of his eye, pretends he doesn't. if she's here, it isn't by chance. she'll tell him what she wants soon enough.
sure enough, here she is, at his elbow, his voice in her name, and he's already getting sentimental. thinking about old times, better days, all that shite. god, he's not drunk enough for this.
he gestures to the bartender to leave the bottle, and pours himself another generous glass of cheap scotch. matching her cool tone, "zee."
zatanna's eyes shift to the bartender and then back at john. the way he pours the glass, she side eyes him, she side eyes the drink. she must focus, and not think about how many times they would be at taverns such like this one, celebrating, together. john and her.
she takes a breath and straightens her skirt, doing this all over again..seeing him and thinking about him are completely different things. she's come to realize. she wants to overthink it, she wants to overcomplicate things on instinct.
"i see you are quite busy these days." she starts, it's conversation surely but she wants to dig, feels entitled to a fight. she tilts her head slightly. "-i'd like to have a conversation, if you're willing." straight to business. turns to fully face him, purple gaze on him completely. zatanna let's that linger for a moment.
"in private." and she's dead serious. this does not stop her from feeling everything, washing in over her. like these feelings never left. maybe they never have somethings you can't just vanish away with the wave of a hand or a spoken word spell.)
vegas. both of our characters wake up married after a drunk night in vegas.
zatanna rarely manages to sleep this profoundly, she doesn't like it but she is often a light sleeper. worries of supernatural threats to the world do in fact keep her up on some subconcious level, but the sleep she is trying to pull herself out of is deep, she groans, opening up her eyes lets too much light in. her head hurts, her mouth feels dry. the early indicators of a good night, a wild night. not something she indulges on too often. usually she can pinpoint her bad decisions on one man.
she lifts her head up, slowly and gently sitting up on the bed, too hungover to try and magic the headache and the feeling of dread away. purple eyes scan the room, which is...frankly speaking a mess. trails of clothes, and an absolute destruction of some of the fancy furniture the room had to offer. ( as a general rule of thumb, she has her own exceptions as to what to use her magic for, there are some trivial things she handles with the right set of words, and making up for the destruction of property after a night out is usually not on the list. ) her fingers thread through her hair, unkept, she can still feel the leftover make up on her face. and then there is secondary feeling, on her finger, her heart picks up, extending out her hand and it comes into view. a nice ring, too nice of a ring on. on her ring finger. there is a ring on her ring finger. surely it's just a ring. surely she just needs to figure out more before freaking out, but it's too late, she can't remember last night, not every detail but you see here john constantine is still here.
"oh my god."
next to her lies the source of every single headache she's ever had, she's sure of it. somehow his blonde hair looks more unkept than usual, and he's out. out like a light. moving, and talking hurts. but shock, anger, worry are a hell of a cocktail. "john." she shakes him, bunching the covers on her hand over herself. "john wake the fuck up." her voice is stern, louder than usual, rings in her ears. she's not above taking it up a notch if he weren't to wake up.
finding john constantine to zatanna is second nature. the magic that surrounds the realm bends to her will, it may shift and scatter but it listens to her words. commanding then she follows the trail only visible to her, stars and purple dust. she covers her face with the hood, leading her to a tavern filled to the brim with the company and crowd @const4ntine finds himself stumbling into now and then. she tries to make herself unseen. until she sees the coat and something get's caught in her throat.
her plan is flimsy at best, her trust on john on thin ice. it's been too long, why is she nervous? solitude can make a woman mad. lead her to places she wouldn't think to be in. she sits on the stool next to him. and clears her throat. not looking at him just yet. she simply hopes she doesn't regret this.
"john."
her tone is as neutral as it can be. she is trying to appear as put together as one can be after putting distance between them and john constantine.
Send me 🚩 for one of my muse's red flags, or 💚 for a green flag.
hi working on a marvel verse for zatanna
does a little spin
btw i have been hanging out at the multi which is @polarnoid
he's always loved when she uses her magic in bed. the sharp rustling of fabric as the buttons of his shirt undo themselves all at once, he shrugs it off as well, near-shivers at the feeling of her cool fingers on bare skin, the way her nails trace his sides, the merest suggestion of pain. it's perfect. she's perfect.
he's sure he looks a mess, her lipstick smudging his face, his hair disheveled from how she likes to play with it. not that it matters -- she's seen him worse. her voice, low and characteristically direct, sends what blood he has remaining rushing straight downwards. to business, then. he drops to his knees before her, hard, the cold of the floor bleeding through his trousers. slides his girl's heels off like a worshipful penitent (tosses them blindly over his shoulder like the impatient sinner that they both know he is) spreading her legs, pushing up her cute little vintage skirt so he can press kisses to the insides of those pretty thighs before he tugs her panties aside and starts on the main course.
his uncharacteristic quiet should show his focus in this moment, but he still looks up to catch her eye (checking she's alright and shooting an obnoxious little smirk her way) before he settles in between her legs, where he belongs. he tongues at her sodden cunt in an exploratory sort of way, christopher bloody columbus, re-familiarizing himself with territory already discovered. she's soaked. he wants to say, are you always this hot and bothered after a snog, zee, or is it just that you missed me? but he weighs the pros and cons of delaying his very crucial mission (that is, of making zatanna come, hopefully so hard that she'll say his name backwards) in the pursuit of being a smug bastard, and, for once, decides to keep it to himself.
it's amazing just how long she let herself be mad at john. about so many things, but none of them seem to matter in the moment. she looks at him between her eyelashes, her knees bent and her arm stretched out zatanna's hand tangling itself on his blonde hair. holding on in anticipation, her breath hitches, eyes bright and focused on him, his actions, giggles at the way john throws the shoes away.
his smirk makes her blush, and she tugs on his hair only slightly. behave, she doesn't say but she implies it. that's the thing with john constantine is that while he's a goddamn bastard, and he's the worst. he's the best, he's attentive. he knows her. he's sweet. and when her eyes flutter and she exhales on a moan, zatanna is reminded he's good. oh he's good. it's like zatanna never even threw him to the curb. her back arches as she presses into him, free hand holding onto the couch. the problem is how the feelings wash back in, in waves, everything she's kept closed to herself, everything she's tried and kill in order to survive in a world where john constantine wasn't supposed to be around her anymore. but he's here now and she can feel it.
her head thrown back, and it's a special type of feeling. it isn't simply lust, this warm feeling spreading. she's in love and she's missed this, goes dizzy with it. zatanna is acutely aware how wet she is, how wet she is getting. he's pressing all the right buttons. "i forgot..." she breathes, the heat catching up with her. "...that you can be such a good boy for me." her words are breathy, groaning. biting her lip, lipstick smeared. she can see it, smeared over john. she's marked him surely in more ways than one.
🐝 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. ( all of these are taken from the movie ‘the princess bride’ released in 1987. feel free to adjust to better fit your muses. )
❛ your vote of confidence is overwhelming. ❜ ❛ are you trying to trick me ? ❜ ❛ what if something happens to you ? ❜ ❛ i will never love again. ❜ ❛ am i going mad, or did the word ‘think’ escape your lips ? ❜ ❛ you are sure nobody’s following us ? ❜ ❛ out of curiosity, why do you ask ? ❜ ❛ i suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you ? ❜ ❛ i do not accept excuses. ❜ ❛ did i make it clear that your job is at stake ? ❜ ❛ i do not think it means what you think it means. ❜ ❛ i don’t mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks. ❜ ❛ i’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me. ❜ ❛ you are better than i am. ❜ ❛ please understand, i hold you in the highest respect. ❜ ❛ i just want you to feel you are doing well. ❜ ❛ we must all be ready for whatever lies ahead. ❜ ❛ could this be a trap ? ❜ ❛ if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse. ❜ ❛ i could have sworn i saw something. ❜ ❛ you only think i guessed wrong. ❜ ❛ i was giving you a chance. ❜ ❛ you think your dearest love will save you ? ❜ ❛ what can i do or you ? ❜ ❛ nothing you can say will upset me. ❜ ❛ you can die too, for all i care ! ❜ ❛ i told you i would always come for you. ❜ ❛ why didn’t you wait for me ? ❜ ❛ death cannot stop true love. all it can do is delay it for a while. ❜ ❛ is everything clear to you ? ❜ ❛ you mean you wish to surrender to me ? ❜ ❛ don’t make yourself a fool. ❜ ❛ we can live there quite happily for some time so whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit. ❜ ❛ i thought you were dead once, and it almost destroyed me. i could not bear it if you died again, not when i could save you. ❜ ❛ who says life is fair ? ❜ ❛ life isn’t always fair. ❜ ❛ i’m telling you, you’re messing up the story ! ❜ ❛ i’m sure you’ve discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. ❜ ❛ this is where i am, and this is where i’ll stay. ❜ ❛ you don’t look so good. ❜ ❛ i just hope it’s enough to buy a miracle, that’s all. ❜ ❛ there’s a big diference between mostly dead and all dead. ❜ ❛ all your worst nightmares are about to come true. ❜ ❛ have you been chasing me your whole life only to fail now ? ❜ ❛ i think that’s the worst thing i’ve ever heard. ❜ ❛ you’ve got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. it’s going to get you in trouble someday. ❜ ❛ what hideous sin have you committed lately ? ❜ ❛ if you didn’t say it, you didn’t do it. ❜ ❛ i have been in the revenge business so long, now that it’s over i don’t know what to do with the rest of my life. ❜