The Vampire Hunter

Late 20s to Early 30s

He/Him | They/Them | It [ now be careful love with that one, I don't bite unless it's consented to, but I can be a nasty bugger ]

Bisexual. As he'd put it: “Society should not be allowed to dictate the rules of how one lives life. Or who one loves. I am capable of caring for [anyone I choose]. Just as I have cared for women I have known, [...] I have cared for some men, [both] whom I have known intimately." (yes, this is straight up lifted from Benedict Bridgerton's declaration of his sexuality to Sophie).

— Background —

Son of Lord and Lady Constantine, John Constantine was orphaned at a young age when his parents were hanged for treason. Stripped of his title, he was forced to live in poverty.

When he turned 13, his Constantine heritage caught up with him.

Usually older kids did not get adopted at the orphanage. Everybody knew that. So when an old man, claiming to be a foreign Count showed up for him specifically, John had the common sense to be scared. Especially since the old man had insisted for all direct meetings and transactions to take place at night. The amount of money he 'gifted' the orphanage certainly smoothed all the difficulties they could encounter working around his peculiar clock and within 2 weeks, John was officially adopted and to travel with his new guardian. The man had rather unusual arrangements for the trip, telling John of them during their sole shared dinner, though John was really the only one eating whilst the other looked on, ravenous but with no food in front of him. But honestly, John was fine with actually not travelling in the same carriage as the man, loneliness hardly new to him and the other's presence particularly uncomfortable. The whole thing was odd, a bit surreal and something kept nagging at John, so he felt constantly on guard, used to light sleep anyway following his time at the orphanage. Eventually they made it to Transylvania where the Count was from and dinner in his castle was the first time John laid eyes on him since they left London. Dinner was a quiet affair, but John ended up cutting his hand while working on an apple, nothing deep, just a superficial prick of the blade against his palm, but that agitated the Count. Not remembering how he ended up where he did, John eventually woke up the following day in his new bedroom, it felt off but nothing seemed amiss or different, except that the small wound of the knife had been, for some reason, heavily bandaged. Doubt and disbelief led John to remove the bandage and find, not the small mark of the tip of the blade on the palm of his hand but rather odd bite marks both in the palm and on the back of his hand. John remembered none of it happening so he had a bout of panic before he put himself together and went seeking for answers. He found no one in the castle, but being a clever boy, he kept looking, and it felt as though he was drawn to the underbelly of the place. Eventually, John ended up in a crypt where he found the Count asleep in a coffin, naked and decayed. Suddenly the creature awakened and started to pursue him throughout the castle, telling him that the Constantine heir oughta be his, as foretold, for he should live longer than normal men and his blood be more powerful than the one of mere mortals.

John eventually managed to flee in the heart of winter, without coat or horse, running through the forest during the day and walking as night fell and made his progression more difficult. He refused to stop before making it to a hamlet of sorts. Eventually he managed to stumble upon a group of Roma people who saw a cold and frightened kid and welcomed him, bringing him to warmth and offering him food. When he reached for the bowl of soup offered though, they saw the vampire bite on his hand and told him he'd been marked by the devil. They brought him in front of their most skilled forture-teller. She read his fate and fell into transe, revealing him his origins and his hidden powers with the voice of his mother.

“Remember Johnny: Nil desperandum auspice Deo. Fiat Lux. Always remember.”

Shaken after the discoveries, John retired to rest and slept more deeply and soundly than he had in years. Eventually, the cold got to him and John woke up. Alone. The hamlet had been deserted. But they'd left him warm clothes, breakfast and some wood. John sas grateful, though lost. He decided he needed some time to think and plan, having no idea where the nearest village or city was and knowing the Count's castle couldn't be far enough. He went on to explore his surroundings and cut some woods, under the watchful eye of a crow. When night came, John locked himself inside a house and ate the one small fish he managed to catch. When the wooden door was blown up, John picked up a hatchet and set up to fight, to easily be disarmed and thrown across the room. Seconds later the older, larger, man, vampire really, laid above him, fangs extended. "Fi-fiat lux." John whispered out, half-panicked and watched as the palm of his hand bitten hand lit up, blinding the older man. John kicked him off of him and repeated the words, louder, stronger, bolder and blinded the both of them with the strength of the spell, even burning some skin off of the other who laid there wailing in pain. John ran out and got on the horse the Count had brought with him, putting as much distance as possible between him and the vampire.

After those events, John dedicated himself to learning how to use his powers, to protect himself first but also to protect others. So that they may not be preyed on as he was.

— Housekeeping —

- This blog is rated 16+ by default.

- MUN is over 21.

- Mostly literate (multiple paras) but I am totally open to the sillier less pressure inducing short-form roleplays too! We can vibe! And you can totally spam my ask box!

- Content warnings: Smoking | Mild Alcoholism | Swearing | Flirtiness/Suggestiveness | Mental Health Issues | Violence | Likely Detailed Descriptions involving Blood & Death | Mentions of Childhood Abuse | Potentially Mild Horror | (I will always tag all particularly relevant posts appropriately too)

- Quick rules recap: No godmodding | No incest of any sort | No NSFW interaction without prior interaction and plot discussion and definitely not with an ageless or minor blog. | Canon DC characters and crossovers are welcomed to interact. So are OCs.

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"If I may, the beer's piss poor mate."

John informed the bartender before taking another long sip and letting it sit in his mouth a bit. Definitely not imported, most decided not a good thing either.

"Yes well, if you are unhappy with the service, you may go and spend currency at your leisure. Elsewhere."

John chuckled at the barkeep's words. "I did not mean to offend you. I merely thought it was my duty as a customer to provide useful feedback for you on one of your suppliers. I don't believe you make it yourself anyway..."

"Actually," John's eyes squeezed shut as he let out a pained sigh through gritted lips and a wrinkled nose. "my brother in law makes it. He's had a brewery upstate for well over a decade..."

John scoffed. "A decade's nothing and clearly he lacked qualitative feedback because this is..." He cleared his throat as he met the large man's angry gaze. "I mean," He made a display of taking a long swig. "I'm drinkin' it, aren't I?" He took another chug, forcing a smile after and his thumbs up on the side holding the tankard. The blond's eyebrows creased when a woman appeared behind the bar, tying her apron. "Melly?" He let out, brows creasing.

"How'd'you know her?" The obviously older, gruff man inquired.

"Your daughter? She is quite the bright thing! Clever girl."

"Melisandre is not my daughter but my third wife."

"Oh." John indulged in a mildly disgusted side glance, barely a split second thing before he schooled his features into a more neutral expression, half hiding it behind the tankard of beer. A blushing Melly moved closer to John, inquiring if he needed a refill or anything else, offering a generous glance at her cleavage in passing, having all the subtlety of a newborn calf. John's eyebrows shot to the ceiling as he quietly let out an "Oh God..." A huge part of him was relieved his debauchery—ahem, education, of the young woman to the things of love ended at a french kiss. Evidently the older man, with now rosied cheeks on his stout face, caught on his young wife's tricks.

"How. do. you. know. Melisandre?" He repeated, now sounding rather upset, like he couldn't quite tell where to place the cursor on his ire.

"You mean, how well, do I know your wife? Well, I haven't lain with her, if that is what you were wondering. Merely taught her, the french amorous ways. Like Molière's Dom Juan, or a bonafide Casanova I have been both respectful and gentle."

"What does this mean?"

John's cheeks filled with air as he huffed and puffed, trying to find the less... antagonistical way to explain to the man that he'd sort of seduced his wife. Which had made no indication of being wed! Clever minx had even removed her brand new wedding band, which she was now conveniently wearing again... Now John was doubting his Shakespearian sonnets had been the ones doing the work for him at all, maybe he'd been the one seduced actually...

"It means I love him!" The young woman let out, turning a shade between ripe tomato and a delicious cherry. Oh. So she was likely seeking a way out of this matrimony and decided to bet on a terrible horse... "He has been more gentle and tender and passionate than you have ever managed..." John's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise as she spoke. "He has ignited parts of my core I did not know could be so exhilarated." From a mere kiss? Was she married to a brutish ogre with no subtlety whatsoever? Whilst John sat his thoughts, forgetting that at the heart of the spectacle was his trespassing. the inn keeper had not forgotten. And swung on John before the blond could even realise what was happening to him.

"Solid hook." The blond admitted, rubbing at his jaw. He however caught the next fist thrown at his face, using the other's momentum to drag him over the bar to awkwardly lay on his stomach whilst his new bridge yelled "Finish him Johnny!" making the blond scoff in disbelief. "I have no intention to murder your husband, Melly. Husband I did not even know you to have."

"Well you never asked." John chuckled at the reply and choked when a large hand gripped his throat. Blindly John reached out for the beer, or whatever was left of it and hit the man with the tankard, managing to free himself and stumbling backwards as he protectively held his throat. With unexpected agility in spite of his embonpoint, the man jumped on the bar and leapt from it towards John who dodged last minute but was caught by another man. Likely a friend of the barkeeper who held him as the other man got back on his feet, with the intention to punch him in the stomach. John profiteed from the fact that he was held up to kick the other with both of his feet before ridding himself of his keeper with a rather unorthodox mean he'd never grown to be above: biting. Then a swift plate to the head before being caught again, the whole thing having gone beyond the three men. Soon enough the whole bar was fighting for whatever reason they had and John crawled his way out, keeping a low profile and close to the floor, ignoring Melly's calls for him.

When he made it out, on all four still, his eyes fell on male shoes. Only mildly embarrassed, John looked up to the feet owner's face, an easy grin on his own. "You..." He ended up letting out quietly as he stood, just a little shorter than the other. John readjusted his cape, dusting himself off as he went on: "I've seen you before..." And it wasn't just a line. No, there was honesty to his scrutiny, something familiar and alluring about the dark haired steel eyed stranger. So John was focused now, on the charming stranger. The bar brawl almost forgotten, the sounds faded as they stood under the light of the street lamps of a night in Gotham.