damned if you do

"I walk my path alone... Who would want to walk it with me?" John Constantine fc: matt ryan fc: alexander calvert alternate fc: rahul kohli indie roleplay | 21+ written by grim

[thedevilyouknovv]

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about:

This is a sideblog, and I follow back from my main @grimmusings. Please direct IMs there, since it's easier for me to keep all my messages on one blog. It's also easier to start interactions with me there, where I regularly post open starters and meme prompts. For a full list of rules, see my main. Honesty hour questions will largely be answered IC and treated as anonymous unless signed by a muse.

All details vary based on verse, but in general I pull Constantine from DC/Vertigo comics, with a bit of Arrowverse thrown in if those connections are needed. I'm not that familiar with Legends of Tomorrow, but I'm happy to read up on it if you want to include events from there. If you prefer one of his faceclaims over the others, feel free to request!

Please note that he's not my easiest muse. I enjoy writing him, but true to character, he only talks when he wants to, and it may take me a bit longer to get back to his replies than it does for my other muses.

wanted connections:

This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I can roll with most muses as far as basic interactions. I’m happy to ship Constantine with other DC/Marvel comics characters and OCs/fandom crossovers based on chemistry, but unless they’re on my OTP list, they need plotting and interaction first. There is never any pressure to ship with me, even if they’re on my list.

OTPs: Zatanna Zatara, Oliver, Desmond, comics/Arrowverse Chas Possible Ships: Nick Necro, Lucifer Morningstar, Harley Quinn, Dean Winchester NOTPs: film Chas (too much of an age gap), Rachel Roth (same + daughter vibes), most muses with a significant age gap (he may be an asshole, but he's not a fucking asshole) Other: Any DC/Marvel comics muses. Any muses or crossovers from other horror/paranormal fandoms (e.g., Supernatural, Stranger Things, Welcome to Night Vale, Good Omens).

default verses:

canon (+/-): Any verses that take place more or less in the DC/Vertigo comics timelines.

arrowverse: A mix of comics lore and headcanons that more closely follows an Arrowverse timeline, where John helps retrieve Oliver's soul.

multiverse!madness: Various comics universes collide, whether Marvel/DC/etc. have always existed on the same Earth, or other-dimension shenanigans are at work. Duplicate friendly!

horror!verse: Any crossovers with horror fandoms like Supernatural, typically where John is working paranormal investigations or scams.

verses by request only:

I'm happy to write these, but since they're more specific AUs, I don't default on them for asks/memes. Please feel free to request them.

college!verse: A college backstory verse where John attends university to study magic, play in his band (Mucous Membrane), and generally fuck around. (fc: Alexander Calvert)

dad!verse: Any AU where John is being an absolute disaster of a parent. May also apply to canon muses like Rachel Roth or Lucy Quinzel.

[thelaughingmagician]

Hellblazer #2

[canonplag]

John sketch…

[thefailurecult]

[soopermanz]

hellblazer (issue #44)

ok fuck me i guess.

[cuntstantinee]

All alone, open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age

[thelaughingmagician]

Hellblazer #46

[feartoxinn]

constantine doodle cuz ive recently started reading hellblazer

[thefailurecult]

[thedevilyouknovv]

" hey, babe! sorry about the wait, traffic was brutal… "

@hollowpillow

John always had six or seven ulterior motives, at least four of them self-serving, so it wasn't pure altruism that had him sliding into the seat across from the dark-haired woman with an approximation of a little apologetic smile, or as close as he ever got to such a harmless expression.

She was beautiful (one), and he'd always been a sucker for a beautiful face (two), often to his detriment. She was sitting alone, looking annoyed, and checking her watch, and she'd also over-dressed for the pub, so he was guessing she'd been stood up (three). Mostly, though, it was something about her, a little tug at his awareness that he'd learned not to ignore (four). If she'd never dabbled in magic, he'd eat his trench coat. The rest of his motives were best not examined at the moment.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, luv. London traffic's murder…" He stretched a hand across the table, not volunteering a name. Unless it was a blind date, he'd only get himself in trouble.

[thedevilyouknovv]

John was always lying about at least seventeen things, some of them life or death and some of them absolutely stupid. Perhaps it was just to throw people off the scent, or perhaps it was just to amuse himself. It was never clear, but honesty was definitely overrated. He wouldn't last a day in his line of work if he had to tell the complete truth.

He had a good nose for when it wasn't working, and he'd bet money he didn't have that it wasn't working on her. The fact that she seemed to be playing along anyway was far more interesting than a call out, though, so he didn't feel the need to come clean just yet. Like her, he wanted to see where this game went.

"Not at all. Never can catch my good side." He wasn't sure he had a good side. She wasn't wrong about his body being lived in. Sometimes by people other than himself, fuck you very much Alec. In contrast, she looked too lovely and polished to be giving him the time of day, but oddly, he'd never had difficulty catching interest. Keeping it, maybe, but that was a different story.

"Doubt there's anything about you that's easy to forget. Charmed, Jane." That was a fake name if he'd ever heard one. It was safe to say she'd piqued his interest. He was gracious enough to flag down a passing waiter and order her wine. "Depends. Is Liverpool around here?" Same island, anyway, but he'd made London his home as soon as he was old enough to leave. The accent lingered though, and he'd never troubled himself to shake it. "Are you from around here, Jane?"

[dreamofyou]

continued . | @thedevilyouknovv

bruce  laughs.  it's a genuine, warm laugh.  if  alfred  could  hear  bruce,  the  man  would  likely  draw  out  one  of  many  hidden  weapons  on  his  body,  and  demand  to  know  who  this  imposter  is.  over  the  years,  joy  has  grown  more  into  an  abstract  concept  rather  than  real,  visceral  emotion.  but  something  about  john's  blunt  nature  with  whipcrack  smart  wit,  and  dark  humor  gets  bruce  feeling  a  little  more  human.  "sounds  like  it  must've  been  an  adventure.  see  anything  fun  down  there?"  his  voice  runs  rough  from  the  nightmare's  earlier  strain,  but  there's  a  flicker  of  life  to  his  words  again.  warning  sirens  go  off  stridently  in  his  mind.  'don't  get  close,  don't  get  close-'  because  bruce  has  an  uncanny  talent  for  bringing  harm  to  people  in  his  life.  bruce  won't-  he  can't  do  that  to  john.

but  damnit,  bruce  is  selfish.  because  here  he  is  reaching  out  for  john's  hand.  "you'd  never  scare  me  off  either.  think  you  know  by  now  how  ridiculously  stubborn  i  can  be."

[thedevilyouknovv]

That wasn't the kind of sound he'd ever expected to hear out of Bruce Wayne's mouth. John wasn't usually the sort of person who brought on warm laughter. Derisive or hysterical, perhaps, but not happy. It tightened his chest for a moment, that warmth battling with the natural darkness that said he was sure to fuck this up soon, somehow. He always did. But in this moment, Bruce was taking his hand, and John was tugging him closer, and he'd managed to do something right for a change.

"Oh, you know. A few demons. Some light torture. S'pose it depends on your kinks." He'd got out of it by talking fast and slinging some bullshit, as usual, no magic required. Harm was fairly relative in his line of work. John wasn't nearly as afraid of being hurt by Bruce as he was of hurting him. His shit also had a tendency to spill over onto everyone who stood too close. "Kind of annoying, you bloody hero types," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

[cosmosrebellion]

I love the contrast between John's first appearance in Swamp Thing vs Hellblazer. When he debuted he looked so well put together, but in Hellblazer he looks less conventionally handsome , his suit and trenchcoat look cheaper and he is a lot more abrasive. Don't know if it was just a change in direction from Moore to Delano or if that's just what going to the UK does to a mf.

[evilvvithin]

KEANU REEVES as john constantine CONSTANTINE francise lawrence, 2005

[dreamofyou]

.   open   to:   clark  kent,  hal  jordan,  arthur  curry,  john constantine, sam  wilson,  thor,  tony  stark,  stephen  strange,  loki, bucky  barnes,  steve  rogers,  peter  quill,  logan, wade wilson  

"i'm  sorry."  those  two  words  don't  feel  like  enough.  there's  too  much  for  bruce  to  apologize  for.  like  how  when  it's  only  the  two  of  them,  bruce  doesn't  have  batman's  seemingly  invincible  armor.  or  how  he  isn't  even  bruce  wayne,  billionaire  CEO  who  can  charm  his  way  out  of  anything.  "i  didn't  want  you  to  see  me  like  this."  not  bruce  with  the  night  terrors,  the  haunting  grief,  the  scars  that  go  beyond  just  what  marks his  body.  but  still─  when  bruce  gazes  at  the  other  man,  goddamnit,  how  bruce  aches,  wants.  he  says  what  he's  never  let  himself  say,  until  now:  "please  stay."

[thedevilyouknovv]

To say John wasn't exactly a stay the night kind of partner would have been putting it mildly. He'd known going into this thing with Bruce that he was playing with fire and, naturally, that was part of the appeal for him. If there was a human disaster within a fifty mile radius, guaranteed every time he would find them. Disasters, apparently, were drawn to other disasters. Waking up screaming from nightmares was a valid reason not to play sleepover, and he was intimately familiar with them, but he wanted to do this anyway. Maybe John's trauma and Bruce's trauma could have a battle royale. He perched on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand to him. "I went on a mini-break to hell last week, Wayne. You're not going to frighten me off with your nightmares."

[thedevilyouknovv]

" hey, babe! sorry about the wait, traffic was brutal… "

@hollowpillow

John always had six or seven ulterior motives, at least four of them self-serving, so it wasn't pure altruism that had him sliding into the seat across from the dark-haired woman with an approximation of a little apologetic smile, or as close as he ever got to such a harmless expression.

She was beautiful (one), and he'd always been a sucker for a beautiful face (two), often to his detriment. She was sitting alone, looking annoyed, and checking her watch, and she'd also over-dressed for the pub, so he was guessing she'd been stood up (three). Mostly, though, it was something about her, a little tug at his awareness that he'd learned not to ignore (four). If she'd never dabbled in magic, he'd eat his trench coat. The rest of his motives were best not examined at the moment.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, luv. London traffic's murder…" He stretched a hand across the table, not volunteering a name. Unless it was a blind date, he'd only get himself in trouble.

[hollowpillow]

This was a bad idea from the start, but Zee had a certaint magic touch for going with bad ideas despite her knowing better. It was the bane of her existence, and entirely her own fault, no matter how much she made it out to be. It was easy to place the blame on the universe, on some half-drunk person in the crowd, or in this case, on Mikey, who had suggested this date in the frist place.

He was more than half an hour late, and Zee was ten minutes past the grace period she had giving him, staying another five minutes besides her better knowledge, when he slid into the seat opposite of her. She looked up, a long fingernail tapping her glass of wine as she looked over the man in front of her, and the hand she offered. Pursing her lips, she considered for a moment before letting go of her glass and extending her hand, slender fingers curling firmly around his hand.

"You're late," she said curtly, holding onto his hand for a moment longer than socially acceptable. "And you don't look anything like the picture provided, Simon."

[thedevilyouknovv]

Simon? Ugh. Constantine would agree he looked nothing like a Simon. Simons were specky little swots. Not that Johns were anything special. Sort of the every-man name, it was. He appeared to have taken it as a challenge from a young age.

"No one ever looks like their profile picture. It's some obscure law of the universe." Her handshake was firm, but that wasn't what kept him gripping her hand a moment too long. It wasn't as obvious as a warmth or a tingle. He couldn't have sworn it was anything physical at all. It was just a feeling. Magic might not advertise, but it always left a trace.

He leaned back in the chair when they parted, looking relaxed in spite of what he imagined was a rather accusatory expression on her face, but John wasn't going down so easily. When it came to a con, it was in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to offend you again. I've forgotten your name. Should've written it down with the time." He signaled a passing waiter for a whiskey neat, his gaze flicking to her glass. "Can I make it up to you with a drink?"

[thedevilyouknovv]

muse: John Constantine (DC/Vertigo) limit: 18+ only please, mutuals and non-mutuals set: an abandoned warehouse with dark magic going on (if your muse isn't a magic user, they're welcome to be a captive/sacrifice/etc.) open to: other comics/supernatural muses, multifandom crossovers, OCs, whatever! triggers: smoking

Dark corners and unsettling nooks were where John Constantine thrived. His brand of magic wouldn't have been possible without them, and he'd long ago sought them out to learn his trade, settled down, and made himself a home of it. Unlike those born to it, he'd chosen this life, near enough chased it down and forced it to be his best mate. He'd always been drawn to magic, and it was every bit the addiction as the pack of smokes in the pocket of his trench coat at this point. He loved it, hated it, needed it-- a little too much at times.

Real magic didn't often advertise itself, but the demonic and the undead-- those things left a mark. Perhaps he'd always been sympathetic to it, but it was a sense he'd honed over time and through experience, and he'd learned to trust that little otherworldly nudge. Something was going down, and it had pulled him uninvited toward an otherwise empty-looking warehouse. It was practically pulsing with energy from whatever was happening inside, but most people wouldn't have paused to look twice at it. The opposite, actually. Negative energy like this had a tendency to repel. Normal people looked away and hurried past it without even fully understanding why.

"Cozy little spot, ennit? Very Texas Chainsaw Massacre even without the ritual." He casually plucked the lit cigarette from between his lips, eyes narrowing slightly on the scene, as though he hadn't just invited himself into somebody else's trouble. He didn't offer to help-- yet. He wasn't clear on the end goal, but Constantine always had at least six ulterior motives, most of them underhanded, self-serving, or downright diabolical, if not all three.

[stephanie-strange]

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The brunette woman chuckles. Smiling up at him.

“You’re too late to party however.” The woman had a lilting Irish accent. “I’ve clearly got this all under control.”

Said woman was tied down to a table. Surrounded by candles on the floor.

“I’m serious actually. You should go. I can handle myself.” She replies. “They’ll be back soon.”

Something about her wasn’t quite right.

[thedevilyouknovv]

"Looks like I'm right on time to party. Far be it from me to shame a lady's kinks." He raised his hands in surrender, making a slight push-away gesture. He didn't get any nearer, leaning instead in the doorway and smoking his cigarette.

"Got 'em right where you want 'em, eh?" His gaze flicked around at the shadowy corners of the ground floor. It was impossible to see the entire space with only a few flickering candles for lighting, equally impossible to sense another presence with the magic pouring off the place.

[moonymartell]

Constantine Doing Naked Yoga in the Library