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bornbreathless · 8 months

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@handgiven (ft @talentforlying corpsing) from x

"is this-- are you talking about me? i. wasn't planning on doing anything. i wouldn't think to..." his honesty hung over him like a wet rag. his lies slipped through from underneath, bare and embarrassing. his hands found shelter in his pockets, gripping strong on a pebble he felt out in there. the issue was, he knew he was doing something wrong. of course he knew it. he always did. and even when he was doing alright, he felt there potentially was something he was doing wrong. the gift of self-discipline and self-deprecation all wrapped up into a single gracious package. she caught him red-handed. literally, grasping onto john constantine's hand, bloody and despairing and truth be told, she was the last of grim reapers he'd wished to encounter here. the others he could scare away if he positioned himself to be intimidating and holy enough. she however knew him. he would have to talk to her first, before she was ever to grant his request. if she was ever going to. john constantine was, after all, wanted so much that emmanuel was convinced he would get torn into pieces in the afterlife. "he's a friend. and he-- he was simply trying to do good. nothing else. he doesn't deserve to die. not here, not now. "

She doesn't say anything for a moment. She doesn't really need to, considering the way Emmanuel almost instinctively starts trying to dig himself a hole. It hardly takes a genius to see what he's up to, and Char can only offer a fond shake of her head as she steps toward the sorry scene.

"You're a terrible liar, Emmanuel," she says softly, settling delicately on her knees beside the pair of them as if oblivious to the blood that stains the floor. Char reaches out and gently wraps her hand around the angel's, eyes closing for a moment in what could almost be mistake for prayer. She can feel the soul of the man, still there, but clinging on by the barest of threads, waiting to be reaped.

"Good men die all the time whether they deserve to or not. You know that, Em. Why should John Constantine be any different?" Of course she knows who her current...client is, it seems as though both Heaven and Hell are clamouring to get their various claws and overly-manicured nails into him. Rarely a good sign. Even the paperwork isn't clear about where he's going to end up.

Sure would be a shame if some bureaucratic nonsense got in the way, huh?

After a beat, Char rises to her feet again, sweeping the blood from her jeans as if it was nothing more than a few specks of dirt. "There's a reason we aren't supposed to get attached to the humans, you know. It always ends in tears."

#handgiven #((me? bullshitting from the Very Little i know about john constantine?))#((more likely than you think!))#((anyway she's gonna help because she likes em))

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marybatson · 1 year

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being brave n tagging this bc someone has to take one for the team so: i know there aren’t any constantine fans in here for suuure so @ ppl in the marvel fam tags i know u like ur innocent fun but at the cost of assassinating characters is just laaaameeeee. like John Constantine and any kid w shazam powers aren’t friends and they won’t and they haven’t been in any canon interaction they’ve had (ie constantine consistently lying and stealing powers from billy like. In 95% of their interactions) ((I’ve not read hellblazer but know already that’s already bs characterization but not far enough to twist it into saying he’d adopt billy lmfao))

writing either characters in your incorrect quotes posts bc u think is funny but refuse to engage w the actual textual canon of BOTH series/chars ur dragging into memeposting truly is not the vibe u should be putting out in 2023… like call me a gatekeeper or whatever but I just think … let me put it this way. if u ever go to someone’s funeral and speak about them in length all while refusing to have truly known that person in the first place before death like….. i know it’s never done w any real thought but maybe that’s the prob and I know none of this shit is real or serious but how come u guys get to have fun w this and then when I say smth like billy would not love a guy like constantine/he won’t hate him he just will never think twice about him because he doesn’t care. then I get called a witch and burned at the stake??? if u didn’t know until reading this then I hope this helps I prommy there are so much more fun headcanons to giggle at……

#billy batson #shazam #mary batson #no one else to tag cuz I don’t think ppl actually care abt the rest jfjfmrmf #this goes for u danny phantom red hood +YES BATMAN POSTERS like… can’t u guys talk abt kyle rayner or somebody else the kids actually like #jjjdjemejd like sorry but this has gone on far too long… I’m not even mad rly abt it all being not canon but it’s always at the cost of #actual characterizations don’t we get enough of this from comic writers have mercy 😭#😭 atp I’ll accept corny black adam posts..maybe….#anddd I only follow Mary’s tag so why are we hereeee

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sommelierdedemonios · 7 months

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i’m no hero ––

but i’m no villain, either

I’m just a m a n

JOHN CONSTANTINE

MUSES DO MUN SAM.

#۞† 「convo. 」

#۞† 「askmeme. 」

#۞† 「inspo char. 」

#۞† 「w: 」

#۞† 「about the sommelier of demons. 」

#۞† 「visage. 」

#۞† 「convo. 」#۞† 「askmeme. 」#۞† 「inspo char. 」#۞† 「w: 」#۞† 「about the sommelier of demons. 」#۞† 「visage. 」

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lgbtincomics · 3 years

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Hellblazer: Rise and Fall #3

#comicedit #dcedit #lgbtedit #lgbtsource #dailylgbtq #john constantine #char: john constantine #comic #panels #comic: hellblazer rise and fall #dc #mlm #bisexual #original #by: davi #wednesday spoilers

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beginagaininspo · 3 years

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BEGINAGAIN + SCREENSHOTS OF DESPAIR (3/?)

@thelastbertinelli @ruleroflimbo @risethedemxn @rxdshood @jeaniegreysummers @anxietylanterncruz @the-hellblxzer @hawkied

#char: helena bertinelli #char: illyana rasputin #char: jason blood #char: jason todd #char: jean grey #char: jessica cruz #Char: John Constantine #Char: Kate Bishop #beginagainofdespair #type: edit #beginagaininspo #crack

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avengerofiron · 3 years

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“That is your worst joke by far.” || @the-hellblxzer

There was a list in his desk (somewhere. Pepper probably knew where) with an itemised catalogue of people to call when shit hit the fan, dependent on circumstances and consequences, should Tony be indisposed and unable to make the call himself. John Constantine, while infinitely useful in his talents, was pretty far down that list for no other reason than he had a reoccurring tendency to bring out Tony’s gripey side (for lack of a better term). Maybe John did have a point. Asking about Arno’s ghost, and being met with oh, I just found him in the parking lot when the man shared Tony’s face was, perhaps, not one of his better moments of comedy.

“Sorry,” Tony deadpanned, the look on his face as he turned to meet John’s eye evident of how not sorry he was. “I haven’t exactly had much time to work on my twin material.”

“You’ve had over fifty years,” Arno provided, over his shoulder (could John see him? Everyone else seemed to, but Tony wondered if it was different for magic people to see ghosts than anyone else).

“Mom forgot to tell me you existed,” Tony retorted. Arno gave a slight, pantomime wince.

“Ouch,” he said. “Harsh.”

#john: not a time for jokes #char: john constantine

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rahullkohli · 3 years

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And I am nothing without it, Spooner. I’m nothing.

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robinh00d · 3 years

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The number one bisexual hero in DC history besides Tim Drake who identifies as queer

#char: tim drake #ch: john constantine #constantine city of demons

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klauswalz · 4 years

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Favourite Comic Book Characters: John Constantine

#dcedit #comicedit #john constantine #hellblazeredit #johnconstantineedit #dc #**#*dc #*fave comic book chars #art by yasmine putri

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americanalien-b · 6 years

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a nonbinary constantine. i’m in heaven.

#hello there <3 #i also have to say my social name john was picked from constantine #bc he's my fav char ever #i'll even tattoo him soon

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Ill Tidings From Down Below

Night Culture AU One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I am back once again with a fic based on this piece by @bunnvoid! This time it's one with Hal and Kyle's Night Culture forms in which they're "Wraiths"! I hope you enjoy the piece and do expect a possible sequel when Bunn and I converse more over what the other characters look like and such! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“That’s a wyvern,” he said dumbly, gazing at the large dragon currently stretching out its wings in the sun. “It’s as big as my home in New Guard.”

The royal flyer descended from the deep blue silk saddle, landing just a few feet from Kyle. “She,” he corrected. “Nezyphis is a she.” He accentuated his point by scratching a section of smooth looking scales behind her head, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty girl, Nezyphis? Who’s a pretty girl?”

A noise rumbled through the air from the dragon’s chest, something akin to a purr and she fell flat onto her stomach, digging her chin into the dirt.

“She’s a giant dragon,” he repeated dumbly, this time catching the golden symbols lining the harness she wore; recognition bled across his face, and he remarked, “I didn’t know you were apart of the Royal Flyers, Hal.” Kyle’s lips pulled in a satisfied way as he muttered to himself, “But that does also explain why your head is shoved so far up your ass as it is. Only members of the Kings Forces act like that.”

If Hal had heard him, he didn’t speak on it as he explained, “My father was one when I was a child. I followed in his footsteps.” Hal exhaled as he leant back against the wyvern. “Besides, I only boast about it when I know there’s no one around who can connect me to the Wraiths.” He looked at Kyle. “You don’t usually come along this side of the land. Something up?”

Kyle nodded. “Bruce is calling for the members to meetup at the sanctuary. All of us.”

“Why’s that? Is there new force he’s detected in his hidey-hole?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” he answered. “I haven’t been out of New Guard in a few weeks, but…he seemed concerned.”

Hal snorted and Kyle swore the wyvern did too. “As if the man could ever feel something like concern. You honestly expect me to believe Spooky is spooked?”

“Hal, I’m being serious. Even Jason called on me and told me that Bruce is trying to find out where that occult magician Constantine is so he can recruit him as well.”

The flyer’s face pinched. “I don’t like that guy. He’s trouble.”

“Regardless,” Kyle waved off. “Bruce is calling us all to the sanctuary.”

Nezyphis suddenly stood on her hind legs, stepping in front of both men, and growled loudly. They both shot each other looks of suspicion then a swirling evergreen cloud enveloped them both, settling moments later to leave behind ghost-like wispy trails of smoke along their faces, arms, and legs, almost as if their entire bodies were made of the substance; humans taking on the forms of spectres.

“I don’t know what she’s growling at,” Hal murmured, voice cold and low like the hiss of death. “I don’t sense anything in the immediate area.”

“I do,” Kyle replied, his voice only an octave higher than Hal’s, but just as frigid. “And it’s evil. I can feel it slithering like the serpents in the Wayward Lands.”

“I hate that place.”

“Only because you’re intimately familiar with it.”

Hal shot him a glare. “As familiar as one can be when you’ve died.” He drew a hand along Nezyphis’ side. “Take to the skies,” he said. “You will have a better view from the air.”

She obeyed, massive wings generating gusts of wind strong enough to kick up the dirt and rocks around them as she lifted herself into the sky above.

Hal stared at the tree line, flying next to Kyle. “It’s coming from there.”

The painter looked at him. “Shall we flip a coin to see who goes in first?”

“You go first.”

“What! Why me!”

“Because I have seniority and I said so.” He nodded towards the trees. “Go, I’m right behind you.”

Kyle all but hissed at him as he stalked to the forested area, then he paused and looked back at Hal. “If I get eaten because of you, I’m going to kill you.”

“Uh huh,” Hal mocked. “I’ll be sure to send your patron your regards.”

The two walked into the forest, white eyes cautious and waiting for anything, though the further they went, the darker it got, as if the trees were finding a way to block out the sun. In mere minutes they had reached the heart of the forest, a giant clearing surrounded by a circle of trees, though the canopy blocked the light of the sun above them.

“I don’t like this,” Kyle mumbled. “I feel like I’m being watched.”

“Don’t be such a scared child,” Hal chastised. “We’ll be fine—we’ve faced worse and come out unscathed.”

The younger man stilled, resting his hand back across Hal’s chest. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he strained to listen. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” Kyle remarked, turning to him. “It’s too quiet.” They both started looking around. “Where is the wildlife? The birds and deer? There’s nothing around. It’s like—”

“Like everything has died,” Hal interrupted, nodding at the center tree and Kyle’s eyes went wide when he gazed at it.

The blackened char of the giant Blightwood tree gave off the scent of rotting flesh, causing both men to turn away, holding their hands to their faces. The ground all around the tree was covered in an oozing black liquid enveloping everything in its path.

“I’ve seen necromancy before,” Hal started. “But nothing quite like this.” He shook his head, taking a step back. “This is greater and far darker than anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Kyle nodded, stomach churning with every waft of the smell up his nose. “This must be what Bruce was worried about. But…is this an extension of the other phenomena? Or is this a new one cropping up?”

Hal shook his head. “I don’t know, but we need to leave and report this to Bruce and the others at the sanctuary.” He looked to the sky, what little of it he could, and his eyes widened. “Kyle,” he breathed. “It’s sundown.”

The painter’s head cocked up, jaw going slack. “That’s impossible…it was only eleven when we entered.” He reached into his chest, hand disappearing only to come out a moment later with a brass pocket watch. “My God,” he whispered. “We’ve spent eight hours in here. But how? It’s only felt like minutes?”

“The dark magic here must be distorting reality as we know it.” He urged Kyle to turn back. “We have to get out of here. Now, lest the others send someone to find us and experience the same.”

“This isn’t good, Hal. Something is seriously wrong with this forest. And not in the good way.”

“Save it for Bruce and the others.”

By the time they exited the forest, the sky was a deep mahogany, signaling the start of sunrise, and Hal raised his fingers to his lips, whistling sharply. The cry of the wyvern sounded above them, like she’d been circling the forest all day and night and into the early morning, then she landed.

Hal climbed into the saddle, holding his hand out to Kyle. “Come on.” Tugging the other man behind him, he dug his heels into her sides. “Go Nezyphis. To the sanctuary.”

The wyvern ascended into the dark sky and Kyle lifted his hand. “Guy and John have both tried to contact us during the hours. The forest must’ve distorted the signals of our rings as well.”

“We’ll be at the sanctuary soon enough to explain.”

Kyle frowned as the land passed by beneath them, the wind whipping across their faces. “Something tells me this is only going to get worse, Hal.”

The flyer’s expression darkened as he leant the wyvern in the direction of the sanctuary. “You and me both, Kyle…you and me both.”

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

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Heaven, Hell and You

John Constantine x OFC (Valerie Moore) (A/n- been working on this for a while so please be gentle. Should run for approx. 10 chapters)

Warnings- Violence, mentions of mental health.

Masterlist *masterlist for this series coming later.

Chapter 1

He could feel the dread in his bones, and being caught in the middle of a war that no one had prepared for was turning out to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He supposed it had been a long time coming though; the whispers had long started growing louder and the things lurking in the shadows had slowly found their way to light; growing bolder by the day. Angels and demons alike. Most of the time, they looked so human, it was hard to tell, but John could see, he could always see. He could see then too.

“She’s mine,” the disfigured creature hissed, its face half deteriorated, looking sickeningly decayed. It’s clothes were tattered form the battle that had, for a reason that he couldn't distinguish, been put on hold and the half breed seemed almost broken in the back, hunched over and possibly minutes away from returning from where it had come. Still though, it was willing to put up a fight, and even if it had perished, by his, or anyone else’s hand, John knew more would come, hell seemed to be spitting them out by the dozens by then.

“Yours?” An angel, one he wasn’t readily familiar with, chuckled wearily, flexing her wings as a show of unwavering strength, brandishing her blood stained sword offensively, so close to the demon’s face that it had to step back to evade an ending slice, “Can’t you see? She doesn’t belong with filth like you, her home is with us. Surrender now and I might be obliged to let you and the rest of your army live.” The angel, clad in her ruined garment seemed more willing to fight, more able too, than her demonic opponent, and already, John could tell that soon, they’d be at it again.

The funny thing was, John thought as he spectated, was that he couldn’t really tell where he stood, mentally or physically. Instead, he felt like an inactive participant, observing the destroyed streets of downtown Los Angeles from a window or television screen. No voice, no ability to impact the outcomes, not even visible. Though, he could hear and see perfectly, right from where he was, wherever that may be.

“Never,” the bitter conversation in the distance carried on as if he weren't even there, “She’s ours, her mother is one of us,” the demon reared back again when the angel took another swipe at it, its steps barely evading what was left of a hellish corpse. For the briefest second, John took his eyes off the exchange, drinking in his surroundings, his mouth falling open as he finally realized the devastation. It was as if heaven and hell had faced a gory collision, right there on earth. Corpses laid strewn on the streets and sidewalks, broken wings behind perished angels, mangled bodies of dead demons, and worst of all, dozens of humans, all caught in the crossfire, now gone, committed to either eternal plane all because they’d been collateral damage. The sweltering air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and pungent sulfur, turning his stomach. Smoke from burning buildings gave the atmosphere a hazy tint while the remaining flames lapped at the starless, moonless sky, almost begging for mercy from a god that wasn’t going to give it.

God was a kid with an ant farm, and now, the ant farm was burning and he couldn’t give a shit.

The angel chuckled, a slight breeze blowing her auburn locks forward as she shook her head, “And her father is of us. She is more him than her wretched mother,” she spat, as if the words had left the foulest taste on her divine tongue.

The demon’s laugh was reminiscent of a hacking cough, “Of you?” Cracking it’s neck and shrugging shoulders, John could tell that hell wasn’t about to toss in the towel that soon, “Her father should have become a fallen, but I suppose that being daddy’s favorite has always had its perks. But it doesn’t matter, he forsook her, left her for dead. And it would be in your favor to forsake the girl too.”

There was no use in trying to work out who the subject of their conversation, because John didn’t have the slightest clue. Just then though, a voice caught his attention from behind a pile of rubble, small and shaking with fear, “Help me,” she sobbed softly, causing him to turn, only just realizing that he too was caught in the disrepair. Tilting his head, John turned fully, bending slightly to get a better look of her. She was young and he could tell that beneath the blood and soot streaking her face and matting her dark hair, she was beautiful. Full lips quivered as she continued, and the lower one still shone with fresh blood from a nasty split, “Please help me,” tears joined the mess on her cheeks, and in an instant, John was hurrying to her side, melting at her helplessness.

“They’re looking for you?” he held her at the shoulders, her torn blouse allowing him to feel the softness of her milky skin, so silky and warm. He’d never seen beauty like hers, so ethereal, though with a darkness in her eyes that may suggest that there was more than what met the eyes.

Nodding, her breath hitched and she sniffled, “But I don’t know why. Please help me,” when a set of footsteps drew closer to where they were hiding, the young woman grabbed John’s biceps, her nails digging into the white fabric of his dress shirt, “Please-”

A boney, yellowish hand with mangled fingers reached out, grabbing the nameless woman by the back of her torn blouse, hosting her up like she weighed nothing. On instinct, John reached out for her flailing hands, hoping to tug her back to him and buy her, at the very least, a few more minutes. Barely, he caught the tips of her fingers, feeling her nails graze his palms, but none of it lasted too long, and soon, she was tucked hastily to a demon’s chest, wails escaping her plump, pink lips, “No!” She screamed, still reaching out for him.

John awoke with a startle, shooting up in the darkness, hair stuck to his face and chest dominated with heavy breaths. For a minute, he’d thought he was still with the girl, and with a yell, he lunged forward, hoping to grab her, but when he was met with nothing but air, John realized his true surroundings. He was at home, in his bed, tangled in the thin sheets and all alone.

Drenched and frenzied, John lingered there for a minute more before shoving the covers off his legs and shuffling out of bed, headed for the kitchen, barely noting that he’d perspired through the sheets. He knew the loft by heart, and in no time, after expertly evading pieces of his rickety furniture, he was at the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it with tap water before downing the entire thing in one go. Before that, his mouth had felt as if he’d just spat out a fistful of cotton, dry and uncomfortable, and as John refilled the glass, he tried to push the memories of his all to vivid dream away.

He’d been having it so often, or at least, ones like it. The city was always in ruins, there was always a war between hell and heaven, and the final common variable was the girl. The gorgeous girl whose name John didn’t know. In every version, she’d clung to him for dear life, and in every version, he’d failed her, always left helpless as she was claimed by one side or the other. Angie, when he’d mentioned it once, had told him that he should probably see a therapist or something, that the dreams were probably just a manifestation of his guilt now that he was trying to turn his life around. But what the hell did she know?

Of course, John didn’t have the slightest clue on what to make of the dreams, but he did know two things for sure; he didn’t need a therapist and he should probably stop drinking before bed.

“Valerie…..”

“Huh?” She turned, looking up the dim corridor, trying to suppress the frightened shiver that had run up her spine upon seeing that there was no one behind her. “Okay Val, you’re just hearing things. There’s nothing there,” her whispered reassurances did nothing to comfort her, and as Valerie neared the elevator, her quick walk turned into a full on jog.

She always hated working that late, but it wasn’t an occurrence she could avoid anyway, especially when her bills were continuously piling higher, her debt sinking her deeper and the only way out of it was by taking on extra shifts when she could get them. Breathlessly, Valerie slipped into the elevator, pretending that she didn’t notice the eerie flickering of the hall lights just as the fading doors hummed closed. Hastily, she hit the knob that would take her to the underground parking lot, hoping the ride down would go by faster than usual. At least when she got home, she’d know for sure that she was the only one there and that the only creepy voice taunting her, was the one in her head.

Or, so she thought.

Finally, when the doors opened, with her keys already in hand, she started the trek to her car, hoping to put the hospital in her rearview as soon as possible. That was when she heard it again, “Valerie……” It had been louder that time, and by then, she was absolutely sure that there was someone calling her name.

“Who’s there?” She turned abruptly, brown strands escaped from her loose ponytail whipping her in the face. Reaching into her tote, Valerie felt around for the canister of pepper spray that her very paranoid father had gifted her a couple months prior. Though, with the way things were going, she was starting to understand exactly why he was always so concerned for her safety. “I know someone’s here,” she desperately tried to steady her voice, “I swear to god, if you pull something, I’ll kick your ass.”

In actuality, she probably could not kick their ass, but they didn’t need to know that.

“My sweet Daeva,” a female voice taunted, that time offering more than than the others usually did, though Valerie wasn’t quite sure she’d heard it right. It was almost as if the words were blowing past her ear, far too quickly for her to really pick them up, “It’s time to come home.”

Gulping and having decided that pepper spray might not be enough to ward off potential kidnappers, Valerie took off, feet hitting the floor hard with each step as she ran towards her car, parked all the way on the opposing side. Her lungs burnt more than it had in awhile, and even as she moved clumsily, she scoured for the right key, singling it out just in the nick of time.

Getting in, she turned the key in the ignition, grateful that it started without trouble and quickly pulling out of the spot. With her foot heavy on the gas, Valerie broke out onto the deserted side street, droplets from the night’s heavy drizzle pattering against her windshield, running down the front, occasionally swept to the side by the wipers. The streets were almost barren, as a consequence of it being past two am, and even worse yet, because of the rain that had poured heavily on and off throughout the day.

Her eyes were heavy, two twelve hour shifts weighing them down, and as Valerie continued driving and the adrenaline from the parking lot wore off, it was a fight to keep them open. Just about twenty minutes longer. The windows were up, the air conditioning humming loudly, joining the soft rumbling of her engine as she pressed forward. Sighing deeply, taking note of the lights ahead, Valerie shook her head vigorously, hoping to ward off sleep, though, it only worked for a couple seconds, and before she knew it, her lids were drooping closed again, lashes tangling and skewing her vision.

Maybe a minute wouldn’t kill her, she was almost home anyway.

“Valerie!” A voice far different from the ones before yelled her name, making her eyes snap open, just in time for her to slightly lift her foot only to slam it on the brakes, bringing her car to a screeching halt.

“Fuck!” She breathed heavily; she’d almost ran a red light…..and hit a person! Right there, in front of her car, stood a man, dressed all in white, like a hospital warden or something similar, not looking scared, startled or dazed in the slightest, not even jumping like she had when right after, a three ton sped noisily across the intersection. Had he not been there and she’d run the lights, it might have killed her. The man still stood rigid, merely an inch away from the hood of her car. She’s almost hit someone, possibly almost killed him. “Oh my god,” she fought a sob, shifting the gear into park, only bending her head to shut the engine off before getting out to check on her almost victim. Though, when she raised her head again, much to her dismay, he was gone. Not off to the side or across the street, he was just gone, like he’d vanished in thin air.

From the safety of her car, she spent not more than a second looking around and afterwards, Valerie quickly got the vehicle started again, choosing to count the ordeal as a rare stroke of luck, and hoping to get home, hopefully without any other mishap.

Little did she know, the trouble was only just beginning.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea @luxx-aeterna

#keanu reeves #john constantine #constantine #constantine 2005 #keanu reeves fanfic #constantine x ofc #constantine x reader #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #constantine fanfic #fanfiction #heaven hell and you

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