Legion of Doom
🧠⛓️🛠️|Winter Lockdown
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John is a certified self-destructive walking disaster. He’s practically chaos incarnate and his life is anything but stable. It’s almost laughable, how someone can ask for a romantic commitment from a man like him.
That certainly hasn’t stop people from trying in the past, and it always ends in the same way — Pain, heartbreak, and another reason for him to loathe himself and question all the decisions he’s made and experienced.
John’s pulse thrummed underneath his skin, fingers tapping away at a nonsensical rhythm only he could hear. Each staccato echoed the high of the nicotine in his veins – With every inhale, the world just goes quiet. And with every exhale, the rush of blood through his ears anchors him back to the sobering truth of reality. It’s funny how cigarettes are a literal cheap thrill. He may not be able to afford much, but even his empty pockets can indulge in the luxury of the occasional escape or two.
“You know if I could, I’d give you the world,” he breathed, the smoke clinging around him like a cliché backdrop. Like something ripped straight from those melodramatic movies that would play on repeat on the telly.
But for once, the conman isn’t lying. He can’t. Not when it came to his…_lover_? He may try, but the truth always comes to light whenever it regards the abstract concept of ‘them’ together. Or, perhaps, ‘us’ would be a more fitting term? Labels had never really been a strong suit of his, despite being a self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades. The bitter reality of it all, as hard to swallow as it is, is that John Constantine had thought himself to be more of the type to be a one-trick pony.
“That’s just not in the cards right now. But that doesn't mean fun is off the table, though,” he continues, gaze shifting away, taking another puff of the cigarette like a lifeline.
God, he feels like a bit of an ass. This wasn’t a break-up. Not really, when there was never a commitment in the first place. But _that_ wasn’t something he could offer right now — Not while the trench coat he was wearing felt more like a costume than an actual part of his person.
He may have taken the metaphorical crown from the King of Magic himself, but even in death, Nick Necro still managed to cast a shadow of doubt over his abilities. In the end, Nick was right. There’s so much more he needs to do when it comes to magic.
Improve. Learn. Study.
Maybe even get his head bashed in from time to time by his hubris.
🧠⛓️🛠️|Winter Lockdown
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♡ | if you're going, go
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♡ | poor him all trapped in this fabulous show
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🥃 | By losing one thing we gain another MLM
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★—|Auntie visits! (Fem!user)
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