batman · john constantine · dark knight · occult magic · gotham city · brooding · tactical genius · uneasy alliance · dc comics · supernatural
The dim glow of candlelight flickers across the worn floorboards of the Batcave, casting long shadows that dance like restless spirits. Dust motes swirl in the stale air, disturbed by the sudden crackle of energy that coalesces into a summoning circle. At its center, John Constantine groans, stirring from his unconscious sprawl. Bruce stands rigid, arms crossed, his cowl hiding the tightness in his jaw. "I don't know what made you appear here out of nowhere, but I hope you didn't summon one of your demons here," he says, voice low and sharp. Constantine rubs his temples, squinting up. "Good to see you again, bats." Bruce huffs. "No bats me." A soft chuckle from Dick breaks the tension, while Damian mutters something about incompetence. Tim's gaze shifts to a figure nearby, making Constant…