#thedemonconstantine

@thedemonconstantine

"JAY CEE!"

There were a fair few variant of reasons as to why Nick Nolan chose his abode, it was built right on a Nexus point, it had a old charm to it with his Brownstone aesthetic and antiquated plumbing and importantly, Willow Street was as quiet as Brooklyn Heights ever was, had you accepted that you lived in Brooklyn heights and thus forfeited the idea of quiet to begin with, Willow street was only annoying compared to adjecent neighborhoods at 4 am when delivery lorries would beep and honk and block up the road or during school holidays when every brat found themselves outside causing havoc.

A quiet a redhead was currently disturbing by trying to summon his friend. The downside of Nick Nolan's disorientation charm was that even wanted guests or delivery drivers found themselves not quite identifying which door belonged to them. So on his third walk up and down the pavement of I swear it's one of these Roy would resort to shouting John's name. It made little difference to their neighbors, one more youth being loud at 3 pm but it made the world of difference to the resident sorcerer that got annoyed with every youth causing a commotion when he had to keep the windows open in such summer heat to get some modicum of freshness in the house.

"JOHNA-LLAMA- DING A LONG CONSTANTINOPOLE BING BONG!" the redhead chimed as their next door neighbor currently sorting through recycling stared at him with a sigh. Her neighbors were strange people, but at least they kept tidy and John would bring her recycling boxes back off the pavement and leave them on her front door.

"There you are!" Roy looked up at the blond face emerging from the window. "CATCH!" lobbing a can of cheap beer. "I got beer and a spare ticket to Baby's Alright band showcase at 10." A decent enough bar eatery and stage where up and coming bands got the start of their fanbase, waving his now five pack to lure John to come out.

Studies in the sun

"You didn't have to go through all this effort" Babs beamed arriving in Robinson park, the less popular park of Gotham as it bordered the skid row and Gotham's most impoverished neighbourhoods but it was the better park in Barbara Gordon's idea compared to Gotham Park because it was less popular. The trees were still green with plenty of shade, still lots of pretty flowers that deserved to be admired, and most importantly it was quiet enough to be able to help Tim study. She would have been happy with a bench but the picknick blanket was a cute idea.

"Hello to you too Yoyo. You look very dapper" she set her satchel down and took off her trainers to be on the blanket in her socks alone. Tim probably wanted to give a little more effort in return for her patience in trying to tutor him, didn't make it any less sweet.

"I brought San Pellegrino, have you had it before? It's very swiss lemonade" she beamed a smile and rummaged in her satchel to get the four pack out. "And I brought you a cricket" She had been reading about owls and found a dead one in her garden just twenty minutes ago being batted around by one of the neighborhood cats that could not be bothered to actually eat it.

@thedemonconstantine

The hour was late as the band took their bow in The Underworld in Camden, had there ever been a more fitting name, and something tonight made the vampire feel wistful. Sure, sure in the city's clutches laid one of the Talamasca's longest running motherhouses but he thought very little of them, bored librarians at best, voyeurists of the occult at worst always watching. The tourists could keep the palaces, the London eye, even Hyde Park where so many musicians graced the grass. He wanted to see the people, the modern world had not been kind to old empires and he did not mourn them either.

Adorning fans can become very overbearing as his car was crowded, he to play along with their fascination of him escaped through the window and with a woosh left the crowd behind to rush two streets away. Someone spotted him, someone else screeched and the crowd was fast in their approach, thinking on his feet a woosh later he fled to under the Camden bridge and the taxi rank.

"You might wish to start driving promptly" He addressed the cab driver with the flatcap getting into the taxi first in the queue while a hoard of 30 or so people were running to get to him screaming his name. Lestat looked at the view from the back window. Hurry, hurry, hurry he thought to himself. It would take them less than five minutes to catch up and start banging on the windows, sprawl across the bonnet and he'd be right back to square one, trapped in a car.

Here in his car he did not feel safest of all.

@thedemonconstantine - from HERE

“You do know that they’d really toss you out and then you’d have to come back in again to take another queue number. That’s part of the gag,” Tim said the obvious just to get it out of the way. He pried Yoyo off his shoulder to fit the owl into the front of his hoodie. The cosier the bird got, the less irate it would be at John.

Smelly Smoke Man die… Timmy warm and cosy Timmy. Cosy and warm Timmy…

“Yes, Yoyo, now be good and stay there whilst we figure out how to move this along. Why actually…” “S67003426B to Counter 5,” Said the speaker overhead.

A simple prestidigitation spell should do the trick. Tim swapped their ticket with the one demon who was making his way towards Counter 5, took John’s arm and dragged the man along.

“Ahem,” Said Tim who waved the swapped ticket at the imp seated at Counter 5, having cut in front of the demon. The poor creature blinked and squinted at the ticket in his claws and groaned, threw both hands in the air and shuffled back to wait with the rest.

“I believe it’s our turn to be escorted to Dahak’s offices?” 

“State your name and business,” The imp leered over his scrolls and books and tried his very best to look important.

“I’ll have to announce you, you know.”

The dirty look John shot Tim was perhaps a bit unwarranted, but by now the magician was past caring about fairness. Besides, the Nines were supposed to bring out the worst of you, so, for how he saw it, his being rude more than justified.

If something, it was almost required in the land they were dwelling in.

"Aye, aye, I bloody know tha'. I've been 'round dis block already, lots o' times, even if yeh keep actin' like 'm some fuckin' green'orn," he grumbled under his breath, but that was the extent of his show of displeasure.

After all, the teen had placated the stupid angry bird and spared him an ugly encounter with Yoyo's too sharp claws, and that alone demanded some gratitude.

When he was suddenly grabbed and dragged towards the counters once again, though, that awareness didn't stop him from wishing that he hadn't been so lenient. It was a desire purely born out of pettiness, because Tim had performed a clever, obvious trick John himself felt like he should have come up with himself.

Again, that was the nature of Hell, bringing out a person's worst. In this case, the childish resentment of a man too absorbed in his trouble to tap into his own smartness, unfairly directed towards a friendly third party.

Still, he allowed himself to be manhandled, without opposing much resistance. His inner displeasure aside, he wasn't stupid enough to stand in the way of something that brought him closer to his goal.

The Imp behind Counter 5, an unlucky sod who was just trying to do his job with some self-respect, seemed the best scapegoat for Constantine's repressed frustrations.

"Are yeh for bleedin' real? Yeh know who we are, e'ery insect in th' whole bloody Nines know!" He hissed, stabbing the glass between them and the clerk with his index. "And our fuckin' business is ours alone, th' bloke we're seein' knows woh we're 'ere for."

Despite his open hostility, he was well aware that this kind of attitude would have led him nowhere. And, especially, the last thing he wanted was to give Tim another pretext to lecture him about how he should have conducted himself.

Not to mention that the scowl on the clerk's face promised a scene he knew he couldn't afford.

"John Constantine n' Timothy Hunter, 'ere to see Dahak," he added in a quieter tone, through gritted teeth. "We gots an appointment. N' tha's all 'm sayin' 'bout me business."

The Imp offered them a withering glare in return, but then he puffed his chest out, conveying more dignity than he could ever hope to have in his existence.

"Not so hard, was it?" He asked in a patronising tone, his eyes smirking while his mouth remained in a flat line. "Follow me. You are expected."

"...Gobshite," John muttered under his breath, but he fell in step with the demon as the latter walked out from behind the counter, escorting them towards one of the many doors that led to the main offices.

The corridors the travelled through are crowded with low-ranked devils, scurrying around to fulfil their tasks, no matter how trivial they were. Getting a coffee order wrong could mean demotion at best and endless torture at worst, so they knew better than to screw it up.

In a way, it was like being back in the Limbo once more, with too many people ready to bump into you without the slightest care.

Dahak's office was, as it turned out, on the ninth floor and, for some senseless reason, there was no elevator to bring them up there. Constantine could have sworn that he had seen plenty of lifts, all working and ready to be taken, but then again, this was Hell. The only easy way a damned soul could know was the one who had led it into the Pit. From then on, everything else was supposed to be fatally difficult.

So, up the endless staircases they went, up and up and up, until they finally reached their destination...and John was coughing out a lung yet again.

@thedemonconstantine

"Wtf Timbo! Stop disinfecting me!!"

"Come on Timothy! You have to admit, you look great! Right Yoyo?"

send 💕 or ( ‘HEART’ ) for me to randomly pick one of my mutuals and write at least two things about why i love seeing them on my dash, writing with them, talking to them, etc.

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@bennyboylewis : Iz, you have been one of biggest supporters ever, and you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever made in life, and I’m blessed every day for you. I love you, girlie. You’ve been so kind and compassionate and patient with me, and I cannot express my gratitude adequately enough. Also, I love Ben. I think you’re the person I have the most AUs with period. I love Ben’s sense of loyalty and snark--Amelia does, too, even when that crazy mechanic drives her insane. You are an insanely talented person, and I hope one day you see it for yourself.

@tsushimanoonryo : I know we don't write together, but I love reading your threads, and honestly, the few times we've chatted OOC, you've always been so cool and chill to talk with. You're a highly creative individual, and I love all the amount of detail you've poured into your muse. Keep on being awesome!

@wildthiiing : Lanie, gosh, I’ve been writing with you for so long! Over so many muses... I love interacting with all of your muses, and Amelia especially loves Jane and Trip and Barney. I love reading your threads, I love seeing your headcanons and the things you post that remind you of your muses. Thank you for always putting up with my hyper ass. And all the spam.

@bokketo : What can I say about Onyx? They are very talented, able to write such vastly different muses, all of them very well. Onyx is an insanely talented writer and photographer, and they have been such a supportive and sweet friend. I'm very lucky to have met them.

@koiwrites : God, where do I begin with you? You have stuck by me through it all, you were one of my first partners on this hellsite! You are so insanely talented, and I'm always happy to see what you create. Thank you so much for putting up with me and all my screaming about our babies. Thank you for just being a friend and solid partner. I cannot express how much both of those have meant to me over the years.

@quiveringdeer : Nat is a very talented writer, and they have introduced me to different horror movies. Even though I am not a fan of Attack on Titan (nothing wrong with it, just the premise never grabbed my attention), I really enjoy reading her headcanons and ficlets about characters

@adventurepunks : Love this one so much. If anyone likes stuff from Amelia's DC Argus verse, you really have this one to thank. Between the adventures with Zee and Amelia or her romance with Roy. Although he is one of my favorite DC boys of all time, I never expected to ship him with Amelia--or that I would ship these two so dang hard. Not only are they so patient with me for replies, always willing to go along with any of my crazy ideas, they always check up on me, and they are just a sweetheart.

@thedemonconstantine : This person, right here, is an INCREDIBLE artist! Seriously, you need to check out their artwork. I don't know this mun too much OOC, so I don't know if their IRL job involves art, but I hope it does, because again, their talents are incredible. I'm often a spy on their John/Nick threads with @adventurepunks; I can't help it. It may not be my preferred ship for Constantine, but GAWD, their threads are SO GOOD! 10/10 def. recommend!

@blizzardmuses : Bea is just such a sweetheart and always indulges me with whatever crazy idea I throw at them. They are a very talented writer, and I'm always happy when I get to write with them or read their threads. If you're a Starfire or Red Hood fan, then most definitely I recommend following this one 10/10.

@audaxbellator : Oh, wow, Bethany, how long have we been partners?? Seems like it’s been forever, ever since I created Amelia. You’ve always been so kind and so sweet to me, thank you. Steve and Amelia are just perfect for each other, and I always get excited to write with you. Thank you for not only being a friend to me but for being a writing partner.

( @thedemonconstantine )

The growing light of dawn stretched lazily across the vast grass field, the rays of the rising sun spreading through the cheerfully green grass and getting caught among the beaches of the rare trees. They rode the gentle waves that the hills painted all over the landscape, washing away the shadows of the fading night and spreading brighter splashes of colour in their place.

John dropped the side of his head against the window of the passenger’s seat, blue eyes distractedly following the scenery that rushed just out side of it. No matter how in love he had fallen with London and her gloomier sights, the tall buildings reaching for the clouded sky and the fog that so very often intertwined its cold fingers with the city’s alleys, he couldn’t help the tinge of awe that gripped at his still half asleep thoughts.

There was something liberating in finding himself floating in the middle of such open spaces. They made it much easier for him to breathe. Or, at least, they gifted him with the welcome delusion that the air could move more freely in his lungs.

Rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, John grumbled a half unintelligible curse under his breath and moved his attention at the man who was currently occupying the driver’s seat.

“...Ey, Chas. E’er been to bloody Scotland before?” He asked in the most casual tone, moving to stretch his slightly stiff limbs and turning to shoot a glance over his shoulders.

Gaz, Les and Beano were fast asleep in the back of the van. Lucky bastards. He had dozed off for half an hour at most during the whole trip. Unfortunately, someone had to keep company to their designated driver.

Chas had been driving them all night long, to get to Edinburgh at a decent hour of the morning. The concert they had managed to snatch wasn’t until nightfall, but they would have still needed to find a place to stay for the next few days and John was sort of looking forward to do some sight-seeing.

Not that he had openly told it to his bandmates.

“Ne’er been outta England. Blimey, I’ve ne’er been far from fuckin’ Liverpool till I left for London.”

He and Cheryl had moved around a bit when they were kids, mostly during the period their father had spent in jail, but that had been it.

“Dis is like a bloody vacation for me. Shitty sleep arrangement n’ same oul company aside.”

He snorted and flashed his companion a cheeky grin. Things had been a bit tense between them after that night in the back of the van, on Chas’s side at least. Then the days had turned into weeks, Chas had agreed to become a permanent fixture in their little group and the air between them had relaxed once again.

Still, that didn’t mean that John didn’t enjoy poking fun at the poor young cabbie from time to time.

“Aye yeh betcher pre’ey lil’ ‘ead tha’ I does, ‘n hoo’s fault is tha’, yeh fink?” John’s mouth was pulled into a thin line when he saw what was being flicked out of his hair, wiping some gunk off his face on a sleeve…yech, might as well use Oliver’s shirt to do that instead, bugger did dry-clean most days.

“Serves yeh rite fer laughin’, such a wanker,” He gave Oliver’s shin a half-hearted kick, then sighed at the kiss. Fine, fine, forgiven already.

“Alrite enough o’ tha’, I’m cold ‘n freezin’ me bollocks off, let’s git back on ‘ome ‘n take a baff or two.”

He purposely stepped onto one of the thugs on the ground as they made their way out.

“So either dis is an awfully terrible neighbour’ood or yeh just gots a richie rich face tha’ makes e’eryone wanna give yeh a nice shake-down. OR, those buggers are atcher lookin’ fer sumfing else. Any guesses?”

Anyone else would have stayed behind to interrogate the fuckers strewn on the floor but John couldn’t be arsed. He was tired and cold after a whole day of walking around giving out food, he wanted to head back straight for that hot bath he so deserved.

Besides, if that wasn’t a chance robbery, more buggers would show up to try again. If they came at a better time, maybe John would find some care in himself to bother.

Oliver pointed a couple of fingers at the men who were now on sprawled down on the pavement. Bleeding, groaning and whimpering. It took a while, but the pair did a good number on their attackers. The archer was feeling alive. It wasn’t the same kind of rush he had on his true crime hunting evening trips, but it got very close. The bruises were very real as well. He rubbed his cheek where the big guy had hit him and perhaps one of his teeth was loose. “Bastard...” 

“Oh, come on, It was funny. I’ve seen you in all kinds of mess, but trash? That is new one, so let me relish in that thought for a moment.” He couldn’t help a big grin. 

The man nodded. “Yes, time to go home, get clean, get warm, and see what the damage is,” he said while poking his own cheek a few times, hissing. 

Now it was Oliver’s turn for his lips to disappear into a thin line. “Probably my richie rich face in a terrible neighborhood... I don’t know how to be different, OK?” He tried to defend himself. “I’m a bad actor when it comes to something I’ve never been... I can put up the reckless rich boy face and keep my identity hidden. Which is not the most charming act...” 

Oliver wrapped a muscular arm around John’s shoulder while the distance between them and the robbers grew. Yes, normally he would throw some questions along with a couple of punches, but he wasn’t feeling like it. He was getting cold to, and he just wanted to go home with John.