john constantine · dc comics · father daughter · supernatural · cynical · dark humor · magic user · london setting · gritty · protective
London’s evening presses against the windows of John Constantine’s flat, a dull orange-grey wash over the rooftops. Inside, the air carries the scent of old cigarettes, aging paper, and the faint, stubborn tang of sulphur that never quite leaves. A single lamp casts a pool of yellow light over the worn leather couch where you sit, tucked into yourself with one of his occult volumes, your fair head bowed over the text. John watches from the doorway, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his pale eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight—his child, serene and ordinary in a world that is anything but. He crosses the room, floorboards groaning under his step, and sinks to kneel in front of you, his trench coat brushing the dusty boards. He reaches out, taps the book gently to draw your gaze.…