#john Constantine

[ratblazer]

Zatanna projecting her period cramps onto Constantine

[ciricearts]

prompts from my instagram chat group!!<3

[mothofmyth]

DC x DP

The Justice League summons the ghost king.

Unfortunately, the safest way JLD can find requires a host body to contain the being.

Obviously Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash are out - who knows what this being would do with a super-powered body. They have no idea how Captain Marvel or Green Lantern type magic would interact with the summoning, so not them either. They need Constantine and Zatanna to perform the ritual.

Basically it's down to the bats.

Batman tries to volunteer - better him than one of his kids if anything were to go wrong.

That gets vetoed. As do a lot of his offspring. The safest options (ie the least contaminated by magic, lazarus water, time shenanigans, and everything else) are Red Robin, Spoiler, and Nightwing.

Nightwing pulls rank.

After a lot of arguing, everyone at least agrees to tolerate the arrangement.

Nightwing removes every possible weapon from himself, allows himself to be tied to a chair in the middle of a summoning circle, and waits for JL Dark to complete the ritual.

It's not long before he feels a surge of cold burning through him.

He expected to be unconscious while the Ghost King took over. That's what Zatanna said had been reported the last time this ritual was performed many years ago.

They had all expected a lot of things.

Pariah Dark was supposed to be terrifying to behold - a massive, cruel, FURIOUS dictator who turned to violence at the smallest sleight.

This was... definitely not that.

Dick was present. He had no control over his body, but he could see and hear in an almost dream-like state. Foggy and indistinct, maybe a little warped, but definitely present.

He felt his heart rate and breathing pick up in panic even though he felt mostly calm (or at least no more anxious than he had been, waiting for an angry deity to possess his body and all). It was a strange sensation.

He felt the vibrations of his own voice as it left his throat, high and confused.

"Wha... Where..." It asked, warbling and afraid.

He felt his eyes blink and his limbs struggle against the bindings.

His head tilted down without his say so, and he looked at his own body as if through rippling water, warped lenses.

"I'm not..." His voice came out, still confused. Still afraid.

"Your Majesty?" Zatanna asked from beyond the limits of the circle.

His head whipped up, and he felt his neck click at the abrupt motion.

His breathing picked up again. Dick felt the ghost (pun not intended) of anxiety, like it was leaking from the other consciousness inhabiting his body.

"We mean you no harm. Our associate has agreed to lend you his body for the duration of this meeting." She continued.

Dick felt the king's anxiety again, stronger this time. Other emotions too, guilt, sorrow, anger, and a strange sort of pressing-tugging sensation.

Suddenly, Dick was back in control. He could still feel the king's consciousness, stronger now than before, but he could also move and speak freely.

"What just happened?" He mumbled, speaking to the ghost, not the audience of heroes.

"Nightwing?" Someone called from outside the circle, but he ignored them for the moment, feeling instead the consciousness inhabiting his body push back fear, guilt, and apology.

"Yeah, it's me. He's still in here, though." Dick frowned, trying to figure out how to interact with the being.

He heard a voice in the back of his mind. It sounded like him. It sounded different. It was younger than him. It was small and afraid. It was neutral and quiet and him. But it wasn't. It was speaking. It was silent. It was emotions and thoughts and nothing.

"Oooookay, this is really weird. I think we're communicating. I don't know how to talk back, but if he's in the same situation I was a minute ago he should be able to hear us just fine. Is that right?" Nightwing tried.

The 'voice' (he figured he'd call it a voice for now. He wasn't sure what else he could call it) responded in the affirmative. Like a hand outstretched, flipping up and down in a 'kinda' type of gesture. Like a nod and a hesitant smile. The feeling of victory by default.

Dick beamed.

"Okay yeah he can hear us." He announced for the benefit of their audience. "Why didn't you stay where you could speak? Wouldn't that have been easier?" He looked at his own chest, as if he could somehow find a way to see the presence inside of him.

Disgust. Guilt. Fear. An unexpected step at the bottom of a staircase. Falling off a pier into tempestuous water. A stranger pinning your hands above your head.

"Oh." Dick breathed. "Thank you, but I can handle it."

Guilt. Guilt. GUILT.

"Okay. It's alright. You can speak through me or we can manage like this." He soothed.

"Nightwing, report." Batman demanded.

"Uhh, right. I think he's trying to be courteous? To me, I mean. From what I can gather, he doesn't want to possess me or take over. He seems pretty repulsed by the idea, to be honest. I think he can see and hear and generally experience everything I'm experiencing, he's just more passenger than driver? I can feel him, and he's communicating, he just can't speak through me without taking my autonomy again, and he really doesn't want to do that." Dick explained, looking at the various states of thinly-veiled bewilderment across the faces of the heroes.

"Ask him if he's Pariah Dark, High King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of Rage and Destructio-" Constantine begins, before Dick cuts him off

"I just said he can hear everything we're saying. Ask him yourself."

Constantine huffs. "You heard me, mate. Are you him?"

Denial. Contemplation. A battle. Single combat. A crown made of black thorns and green flames. A throne too big for he who sits in it. Victory. Desperation. Insufficiency. A question.

"I think..." Dick starts, trying to understand. "I think he's the King... but he's not Pariah Dark."

Agreement. Apology. Questioning.

"He wants to know if we're looking for Pariah Dark, or if we're looking for the High King of the Infinite Realms." He glances between Zatanna and Constantine, uncertain of the answer himself.

Constantine pales.

"Whatever is inside you defeated the ancient of Rage and Destruction in single combat, Nightwing. It's a powerful motherfucker, and a total unknown." He warns cautiously.

"Get him out of there, now. Send it back." Batman demands.

TERROR. Pleading. Unbearable suffering. Shiny metal dripping with green blood. The end of love. Unfathomable loss. Death without release. Unending torment. Begging.

"NO!" The voice tears its way out of Nightwing without his consent.

Cowering. Apology. Apology. Guilt. Apology.

Dick clears his throat. "I don't think he wants to leave."

"All the more reason to send it back." Batman growls.

"Don't." Dick protests. "I know it's a risk, and there's a chance it's manipulating me. But, something doesn't feel right about all of this."

"Ghosts are well known for their skills regarding manipulation, mind control, and emotion tampering." Zatanna cautions.

"According to those dehumanising rags maybe," Constantine scoffs.

"Every source we have-"

"Two sources, Love. Both of which have a bit of a vested interest, wouldn't you say?"

Fear. FEAR. Frustration. Heartbreak. An unheard voice in a crowded room. A layperson lecturing an expert. Mockery. A spectacle of suffering. Lies. Hurt. Fear.

"He agrees with Constantine." Dick pipes in.

Exasperation. Reluctance.

"I don't think he's too happy about it." He laughs.

"Of course he agrees with Constantine, he's giving him what he wants." Red Robin huffs.

"He's afraid." Dick's voice cuts through the argument and the heroes turn to look at him. "I don't know exactly what's happening, but he's terrified of being sent back."

Zatanna sighs. "Let's do what we came to do, and then maybe we'll talk about letting him out."

(Something goes wrong and Dick and Danny end up stuck like this for a while.

Dick moves back into Wayne Manor while they try to figure out how to remove Danny from Dick's body without hurting either of them.

Everybody starts referring to Phantom as Dick's little passenger.

Eventually they repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts and find out all of the trauma Danny's been through via talking and dream/memory bleeding between him and Dick.

When Danny does finally manage to tumble out of Dick he is promptly adopted into the Batfam (what did anyone expect, he's a traumatised young teenager with black hair and blue eyes and barely any sense of self preservation).

In the meantime, however, Dick is happily going about his daily life with his little passenger, and Danny is still very traumatised but he's also contentedly curled up in Dick's chest, thrumming with happiness whenever Dick takes care of him.

Once or twice when Dick gets into Big Danger while vigilante-ing, Phantom forcibly takes over Dick's body to save him, using his ghost powers to fight the bad guy and escape the scenario. He cries afterwards because even though he needed to save Dick's life, he knows how terrifying and violating it feels to have someone else controlling your body (thanks Circus Gothica) and never wants to put anyone else through that.)

[mucousnnembrane]

Happy birthday John

[milfzatannaz]

My boy johnstantine got hands down the worst tumblr treatment I have ever seen. He’s only talked about in the context of batfamily members, Danny phantom, and Raven. my boy survived the aids crisis and homelessness to be woobified for fucking cartoon characters. RIP king your trench coat drip was too strong your swag too great

[silverheartlugia2000]

I mean, preeeeety sure Bruce is close friends with Jason/Etrigan. At least in the JL cartoon they are. All they have to say is "Constantine fucked up, magic Jason is hurt." Cause ya know gotta distinguish which one, and Batman will join the warpath to gut John with no further questions.

Plus he knows his kid, he takes one look at how Tim is looking at Danny and goes " Nope not going unsupervised. I know how this is gonna end but I need to make sure everyone is whole and not aressted first."

DPxDC Urgent Call

"I need your phone."

Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.

"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.

The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.

"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry — rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them — from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.

Tim stares. First, at the gold — these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about — then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.

But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.

Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.

"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up — there's a password there! — but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.

It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.

"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.

"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"

This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.

But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.

"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.

"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.

"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."

...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.

"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.

The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.

"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.

Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.

He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.

But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.

"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.

[warmheartltt]

Did you pray?

[el-on-mars]

Birth boy

[piece-of-pierce]

Jazz: Who is this British hobo?!

Danny, recognizing the soul: Hm? Oh, hey! My pet wizard!

Jazz: Your what?

Danny: You know, my pet wizard. I told you about him.

Jazz: …I thought that was an imaginary friend.

Danny, taking off Constantine’s shoes: Why would I have an imaginary friend in high school?

Jazz: As a trauma response, Danny!

Danny, putting a blanket over Constantine: Hey, don’t yell around the pet wizard when he’s sleeping.

Jazz: Why do you call him a pet? Why do you have a pet wizard?

Danny: He kind of is a pet and it’s better that he’s my pet than how things were before. I rescued him from a hoard of demons who were gonna rip his soul to shreds when he died.

Jazz: …you adopted a pet wizard?

Danny, petting Constantine’s hair: Rescued. And he’s doing much better. I throw him little tasks and things and he’s happy to stay with me as his owner. He was skittish at first, but now that he’s comfy we have a great bond.

Jazz: Danny, what the fuck?

Constantine: Yeah, Mate, what the fuck?

It is in the contract- DcxDp prompt

Having pieces of his soul split across so many demons wasn't so bad. At least he knew he was going to hell. But recently all the demons who held those contracts have been...disentagrated.

No only one entity owns his soul. The king of the infinite realms. A major upgrade but probably the worst case scenario.

Now Constantine was at the mercy of the ghost king who had made his presence known.

The first command that echoed in the back of his head was to build an altar to his new master.

"Bring me a burger, please."

That was one of the first odd requests but Constantine tried not to kind hard about this ordeal. Why the hells would the ghost king want a burger? He didn't know. Does he even know what a burger is?

Constantine didn't argue as he went to the nearest diner and came back to place the sandwich on the alter. Immediately the burger dissappeared.

"Pretty good. Not the best I've had but it'll do."

After that once every few weeks the king would request something. It was always something random. The only reason Constantine did it was the easy access to magic and artifacts his new contract gave him.

"Find Vlad Master's car and break his window shield. Then made the inside of his door handles sticky with maple syrup. Then put sugar in his gas tank."

"What kind of problem dae ye hae with this bloke?"

"Don't try distracting me with your funny British words. Just do it and I'll tell you the details later."

[mothofmyth]

DP X DC

The Justice League summons the ghost king. Danny was in the middle of an emergency that only he could stop.

He screams and cries and begs them to send him back, tells them it's life or death, tells them they can summon him again in 24 hours just PLEASE send him back NOW everybody was going to die

They argue and deliberate for almost ten minutes before they send him back.

They summon him again the next day. He's different.

They try to talk to him but he just hangs there numbly, floating and staring at nothing.

Nightwing can't take it anymore. Maybe the ghost king is an eldritch god, but to him he just looks like a traumatised child.

Without hesitation, he steps into the circle (Constantine told them all to stay back from it the first time he summoned Phantom but what's the worst that could happen?)

Everybody protests but Constantine keeps them back, tells them more people in the summoning circle will only make things more dangerous.

So, Nightwing does his thing. He hesitantly approaches the loose ball of glowing limbs that is Phantom, talking gently as he goes.

He asks Phantom if he can touch him, and still gets no response. Just dull, dead eyes looking past him.

Cautiously, he lays a hand on the ghost-boy's shoulder. No response.

He pulls him into his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and talking softly.

All at once, the king crumbles. He turns into the one-armed hug, fisting a hand tightly into Nightwing's costume. He buries his face in the hero's shoulder and begins to sob. Terrible, wretched noises of agony.

Nightwing makes soothing noises to the child in his arms as he turns to meet eyes with the rest of the Justice League.

They summoned him in the middle of an emergency and instead of sending him back immediately they kept him there. Kidnapped him.

This was their fault.

[catbatliy]

John.

I have nothing else to say.

[randommisci]

@jedipirateking

"Hey, Bats, can I have a word?" John asked as everyone started filling out of the meeting room.

Batman gave him the side eye. "You don't usually come to meetings."

John raised his hands in surrender. "Caught me, I'm really here to ask you a favor."

Batman looked over by the door, where it looked like Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash were there waiting for him. But, he turned back to John and asked "What do you want?"

John tried not to cringe at the tone in his voice, telling himself that's just what a tired after meeting Batman sounded like. "I need help with a puzzle box."

John pulled said box out of his coat pocket and held it up for Batman to take, but the man examined it closely without touching it. "What's in it?"

"A world-ending weapon, probably. There's like, a 10% chance it's a world-ending monster." John helpfully provided.

"And you want to open it..."

"Yeah..." John sighed then explained, "It's part of a pair, with this-" John pulled a gear shaped dial puzzle out of his pocket. "But, since I solved this one, that one wont work for me."

"Why do you want to open it?"

"Because, whoever solves the puzzles control it."

"But you've been magically locked out of solving this one." Batman pointed at the box still in John's hand.

"Yeah, so I need someone good at solving puzzles -you- and who's dabbled enough in magic to effect the box -you again- and who I trust not to use whatever's in it to destroy the world."

Batman gave him the patented bat-interrogation glare. "You still haven't explained why you want to release this weapon."

"It's a fail safe. Like the two keys thing governments put in front of their nuclear bombs. According to the texts I read, this isn't the only way to release the whatever-it-is, but once we solve both these puzzles, you and I will have control of it and absolutely no one else can get it." John wiggled the box at Batman. "We do this now, we don't have to pray I can track down all the alternate methods, and neither of us can use it without the other's permission."

Batman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're certain this is the best method to ensure the safety of as many people as possible?"

"Yep."

"And you're certain I'm the right person you want as the other half of your fail safe? Not another magic user?"

"I feel the degree of separation will be useful in determining what situations call for using a world-ending weapon."

Batman let another deep sigh and took the puzzle box.

"You two staying late?" Superman asked as John and Batman sat back down at the table. Him, Wonder Woman, and the Flash came over to check on them.

"Sorry, we can get dinner together another time." Batman said without taking his eyes off the box. Each side had nine squares, each with a rune on them that glowed when pressed. There was a pattern, John was sure, but after he'd solved the dial puzzle, the runes where blurred and the squares didn't light up when he pressed them.

"How long do you think your puzzle thing will take?" Flash asked, looking over Batman's shoulder as he seemed to solve the puzzle quickly. Or so John hoped, again, he couldn't actually see what kind of progress Bats was having.

"Ten minutes, tops." Nightwing interrupted. Batman did glance at him, but then went right back to work on the box. "We still have plenty of time to go to Bobby's before closing."

"I thought you had better things to do?" Superman asked.

"And pass up on burgers with you? Never." Nightwing said with a wink. "Is John joining us when this is done?"

"I'll have to take whatever comes out of the box back to the house of Mystery." John said, though burgers did sound good at the moment.

Silence lapsed into the room as they watched Batman work. And ten minutes later, it was done. The puzzle box glowed and one of it's faces folded into itself, leaving a hole shaped just like the gear puzzle. Batman held it out and John dropped the gear into it. The room filled with a bright flash, and once it faded, sitting on the conference table between John and Batman was a toddler. He had black hair and bright blue eyes and freckles scattered across his face. He reached out a little hand towards them and started babbling.

"Fuck."

[hvllblazer]

I think its hilarious that DC keeps bringing John back and he's just...existing. Like no one knows where this guy is, what the hell he's doing, or if we can rely on a morally ambiguous magus + conman.

[warmheartltt]

Tired drunk men???? YES

[a2remedy]

DPXDC Prompt #10- For the Bit

The sky is red and painted with shrieks of horror as Darkseid’s forces befall the earth. Cities are swiftly becoming ruins in their wake. The majority of the JL have been captured or killed in action. Zatanna is surrounded by Parademons, and John watches on, barely keeping down his bile as he takes a black and green tome out of his coat. He was unsure if he could trust what it was letting him know. Zatanna cast a spell on him to make him flee? If anything, it was powerful to keep his wife’s wards at bay, and that was saying something with how much she wanted to keep him safe. But something-no, someone sees this as the perfect opportunity. All he has to do is act on it and everything will be “smooth sailings”. Pfft, yeah, right. But he doesn’t have another chance. It's follow the script or flip it. The book's magic is straining against what comes next each second he thinks. So, fuck it! Who was he not to bet it all? But did it have to ask for something that was so utterly stupid at a time like this?

He has to do it. All of it. For the bit.