#oc: constantine

[hightro]

my tarnished, constantine 🫶

[grimbothefool]

the cunt has returned

[lycosiday]

kindred spirits

[jadessplash]

I love stealing I love taking things

New group of ocs inspired from a dark romance book i read earlier this year LMAO

I really really really liked their fucked up backstory but it was drowned out by all the smut which is fineeeeeee

But I wanted my own fucked up little babies. More on them soon!!

[mucousnnembrane]

so many to choose from....

[corviisquire]

I need him carnally

[thisnoah]

i lived >:)

I give you all the bullshit I have been up to for the past few months

art will be more sporadic but I'm finally able to do digital art again!! 新年快乐. happy danger noodle year

[john-brendan-knowles]

John smiled at Roy, getting comfortable between his legs on the couch.

I'll heal you, but that's not all I want to do... is that okay?

@arrowsnsarcasm

[w3atherboy]

*turns you into a toddler for 10 asks*

NOT ANOTHER TRANSFORMATION-

[ Leo was surrounded by mist and then transformed into a 3 y.o that was holding a small backpack. He had bandages on his arms and legs and seemed unable to hide his demon traits ]

Gabi...?

[ Leo looked around frantically for his older brother ]

[ravensuperr]

Gotham baby mystery part 9

Constantine strolled past the threshold with his usual swagger, his trench coat billowing slightly behind him. The scent of cigarettes and stale whiskey clung to him like an aura, but it wasn’t just that—it was him. His presence demanded attention, even here, among gods and spirits.

A murmur rippled through the chamber. Several deities exchanged glances; a few spirits tensed. Some knew him well—too well. Yet, what stood out the most was the distinct lack of immediate hostility. No angry exes. No vengeful gods trying to smite him on sight.

Instead, there was a peculiar sense of... interest.

That complicated things.

Constantine’s sharp eyes scanned the chamber before settling on Clockwork. His usual smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

“So then… should I call you Clockwork? Or would you prefer Cronus?”

A few beings bristled at the name, but Clockwork merely inclined his head, neither confirming nor denying. His expression remained unreadable.

Constantine exhaled slowly, running a hand through his messy blond hair before pointing a finger at the Master of Time.

“I’ve got some questions, mate. And for once, I’m not in the mood for riddles or cryptic bollocks.”

The weight of his demand settled over the room. Even among gods and immortals, John Constantine had a way of making himself impossible to ignore.

Clockwork tilted his head slightly. “Then ask, John Constantine. And we shall see if you are ready for the answers.”

The room fell into expectant silence.

John smirked. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

The Side Room Dispute

Before he could even begin, however, Clockwork lifted a hand.

“This discussion is for the Council alone,” he said evenly. “Serenity. Box Ghost. You will wait outside.”

Serenity froze. “Wait—what?” She took a step forward, her wings twitching in agitation. “I crossed over to get here. I have just as much right to—”

“You will be summoned when the time is right.” Clockwork’s voice was calm but firm.

Box Ghost, standing at her side, puffed up. “But I saw what happened! Wouldn’t it be wise for me to—”

“No.”

Serenity shot Constantine a glare, as if blaming him for this. “You’d better not screw this up,” she muttered before reluctantly turning to leave.

Box Ghost hesitated, then—under the silent, expectant stares of the entire Council—slowly shuffled after her.

As the doors closed behind them, a powerful enchantment sealed the chamber. No sound would escape. No prying eyes would see what came next.

Constantine let out a low whistle. “Bloody hell, you lot don’t mess around.”

The Hard Questions Begin

Now it was just him, the Council, and the questions that had been burning in the back of his mind ever since Deadman delivered that cryptic memo to the Justice League Dark. It had been vague—too vague. Some answers were given, but others were left open-ended.

That wasn’t going to fly.

Constantine had already been on the other side of the world fighting a demon when that mess started. A demon, mind you, who had taken one look at him and said: We screwed up. We’re so dead. We are totally dead.

That alone had set off alarm bells. But what the demon said next?

"Lady Gotham and her Knight."

And now here he was, standing in a room full of deities, staring down the Master of Time himself, trying to get enough answers to not get chewed out by Batman later.

Because if he didn’t have a solid explanation by the time he faced the Bat, he’d be wishing a demon had killed him instead.

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, then flicked the ashes onto the floor.

“All right. First question.” He looked Clockwork dead in the eye. “Is this whole plan riding on Batman’s dead kid? Yes or no?”

Clockwork didn’t blink.

“Yes.”

The chamber was silent.

John froze. His grip faltered—the cigarette nearly tumbled from his fingers.

“…Shit.”

'Okay. Okay. Deep breath. Next question.'

“How old’s the kid?”

“Fourteen.”

This time, the cigarette did slip.

The small ember hit the floor and was snuffed out as Constantine stared at Clockwork, waiting—praying—for some kind of correction.

None came.

“…You mean to tell me,” he began, voice slow and dangerously calm, “that the supposed Warrior of the Realms, the one meant to save all of us from cosmic annihilation, is fourteen bloody years old?”

Clockwork nodded.

Constantine scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling hard.

“Oh, bollocks.”

The Council was still watching him. Expectant.

“…Gender?”

“Spoiler.”

“…Okay then.”

This was fine. He could roll with this. Maybe. He’d survived weirder.

“Can I know the kid’s name?”

“Danny.”

John let out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a glare at Clockwork. “Alright, then. Give me one good reason—just one—why I shouldn’t march straight to the Justice League and tell Batman that his 14-year-old kid is the bloody Messiah for the Infinite Realms.”

He held up a finger. “And don’t even try any magic loopholes or cosmic bullshit, mate. You know I can get around those. So give me a real, decent reason—one that’ll actually hold up—because you and I both know that if there’s anyone on this godforsaken planet who needs to know this, it’s Batman.”

John let out a sharp scoff, raking a hand through his already-messy hair. “You know, the same paranoid bastard who makes contingency plans for every single person he meets—including himself, in case he goes dark. Hell, I just found out he updated his plan on me. Took a look at it, by the way, and let me tell you, Clockwork, the new version? A hell of a lot worse than the last one.”

Silence stretched in the chamber.

Clockwork finally spoke. And whatever he said—whatever the reason was—made the entire council room go deathly still.

John’s expression twisted as he stared at Clockwork. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet.

“Please tell me I misheard that.”

Nothing.

He swallowed. “No, seriously. Tell me I got that wrong. Because if what you just said is true—” He let out a shaky breath, eyes darkening. “I pray to every bloody god in this room that you’re lying. That this is just another cryptic mind game of yours.” “Because that kid—” His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. “That child… is just fourteen. And he doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Shaking, John took a deep drag of his cigarette and muttered, “Final question… Is there any timeline where we don’t have to rely on a bloody 14-year-old kid to save the multiverse?!”

Clockwork remained silent.

Constantine’s patience snapped. “Say something—anything!” Clockwork remained silent. At this point, everyone in the council was yelling, demanding Clockwork say something—anything. They were just as unsettled as Constantine—the Master of Time refusing to answer was more terrifying than any answer he could have given. Despite the uproar, a simple “yes” or “no” would have sufficed. But Clockwork stayed silent. And in that moment, they understood. They all did. Because the truth was too cruel to say aloud. Because if there had been an answer—any answer—he would have given it.

[lycosiday]

the

them normal too

[spencer-todd]

Keeping up with the Waynes

John Constantine, opening his front door: Mornin', Spencer! I've been needin' your help on- you're not Spencer.

Tim, deadpan: I know.

John: I asked for Spencer.

Tim: I know.

John: I need someone with magic.

Tim: I know.

John: Then why are you here?

Tim, still deadpan: Spencer trapped herself in hell with Sara (White Canary) and Ray (The Atom), and I'm the closest thing to magic we've got. *Throws glitter in the air*

John: Jason has actual magic.

Tim: Jason's got the flu.

John: ...Ah. Well, come on.

LATER

*The house is on fire, everything is broken, and both John and Tim are just standing there, cartoonishly black with soot*

Knock Knock Knock Knock!

John: Come in!

Zantanna Zatara (Magician Extraordinaire), opening door: Hey, John I came over to borrow some Yeti teeth- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

John: I needed a magician to help with a spell and Tim was the only thing we had.

Zantanna: He was?

Tim: Hey, John. Isn't Zantanna a magician?

John: ...Bollocks.

[mucousnnembrane]

Kiss John's old man tummy, for all of us!!

you dont gotta tell me twice!!

[corviisquire]

I’m noticing a trend w my ships…

[moociaoafterdark]

Constantin Valdor is Polish. You can pry that headcanon of mine from my cold dead hands. I'm willing to reconsider anything if you have proof. But not Polish Valdor.

While we are on that subject, my dear Thunder Warrior OC, Kuzman, is Serbian. Not from a "planet whose culture vaguely resembles Serbian one". No, just like all Thunder Warriors and original Custodes, he was born on Terra and is literally Serbian.

[john-brendan-knowles]

He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, staring at the number on the tattered piece of paper in his hand. Mixing with Hell historically hadn’t ended well for him, but…

“Fuck it,” Roy eventually muttered to the empty room, hitting the call button.

Hello?

John answered the unknown number.

@arrowsnsarcasm