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"You Cunt"

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John Constantine was looking for a magic sword. Not for any heroic purpose, he just wanted to add it to his collection of trinkets. He figured a cool magic sword would either pay well or make for a good poker bid, at least. It apparently had something to do with Merlin, but John didn’t really care that much about the item’s lore.

 Jason Blood was looking for a magic sword. He wanted to find it for the good of mankind; in the wrong hands, Merlin’s sword was a powerful force to be reckoned with. He needed to secure it and keep it safe in his vault. Unfortunately, he was beaten to the punch.

“Hey!” He cried as a blonde asshole in a trenchcoat grabbed the sword and dashed away. “You fucking cunt! Give that to me!” The man snapped open a portal and flipped Jason off as he ran through it. Jason swore angrily. Etrigan had laughed heartily inside Jason's head, and the man sighed and told him to shut up. Attempts to hunt the mysterious burglar or the sword down failed. The artifact and the mysterious burglar disappeared into thin air. Jason couldn’t say he minded terribly much, as long as the man had the brains to keep the sword secret and safe.


Years pass without the two men seeing each other. John manages to keep the sword under tight wraps. Until, of course, he uses it as a betting token, as he’s wont to do with important mythical objects. And it just so happened that as he placed the sword on the table, the angry redhead walked by.

The man sat down and was dealt in, and very quickly swept everyone around the table, including John, seemingly with ease. Having won the sword, he stood and walked away. John was enamoured. He’d never been beaten at poker in years, and to see the same man that called him a cunt years ago take the sword like it was nothing was… impressive. And kinda hot, maybe. John stands up as well, out of betting tokens, and turns to go back home.

That’s when the calls start.

“Your help is wanted at Justice League Headquarters.” and ”You have been invited to the Justice League.” and “Mr.Constantine, you have been invited to work with Earth's Greatest Superheroes at the Hall of Justice.” and a million more all reached his phone, somehow, even through all the wards and blocked numbers. How many fucking phone numbers did the Justice League have? If they were trying to annoy him into coming, it wasn’t going to work. Eventually, he tossed the phone and got a new one. It only kept the calls away for 2 days. John stopped answering his phone. He was staring at it thoughtfully, debating whether or not he should just pull the soundboard out, when sparks snapped behind him. He turned and found the air popping and crackling about 5 feet above the ground, and with each pop, he felt his wards give way. John stood and held out his hand, really to cast a spell as soon as the portal opened- it had to be someone breaking in to steal his shit. Wouldn’t be the first time.

With a final, loud snap, the sparks disappeared and a golden portal swirled open in front of him. A man stepped out, and John recognized him. Zatarra, a member of the Justice League. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” John sighed as Zatara stepped forwards. “You’ve been ignoring our calls.”

“Yeah, for a bloody reason, you daft cunt. Get out, I don’t want to join your stupid League of Losers.” John waved his hand in a shooing motion. Zatarra snapped his fingers, and John’s voice disappeared. He paused, then angrily mouthed every swear he could think of as Zatara put handcuffs on him. “Sorry, Mr. Constantine, you’re coming with me.” John sighed deeply and succumbed to his fate.


As he stepped through the portal and into the Justice League Headquarters, his eyes glance over all the people before him before landing on him. That bloody red-headed man. What the fuck? Is he stalking me or something? John narrowed his eyes at the man, who narrowed his back. “Johnathan Constantine,” Batman spoke. Zatarra snapped his fingers again and John found his voice. “It’s just John,” He says easily. “Do you people frequently kidnap blokes who don’t wanna join your party?” He glares at Zatarra. “You’ve stolen many valuable and powerful relics, swiping them right from under the noses of our most trusted informants,” Batman stated. “We could use your skills.”

“Hire Catwoman.”

“Your job,” Batman speaks over him. “Is to help Jason Blood and Zatarra find and retrieve these powerful relics. And you’re not going to use them for betting.” John shrugged unapologetically. “And you’ll turn any relics you still have in your possession over to us for safekeeping,” Wonder Woman added. John laughed. “No can do, Miss. Even if I knew where they were, which I don’t, I doubt i’d give them to you. They’re a part of my collection.”

“You don’t know… where your collection is?” The foxy redhead- Jason Blood, John assumed- asked incredulously. John shrugged again, giving him his signature devilish grin. The man sighed and pinched his nose. “Jason will keep tabs on you until we decide that you can be trusted,” Superman stepped forwards. “What?” Jason and John chorus. “I didn’t even- when did I say I was going to join?”

“Meeting adjourned,” Superman calls. The team begins to dissipate. “Wh-” John sputters. “Are you at least gonna take these handcuffs off, or does a bloke have to do everything himself?”




“Well, that was fun,” John sighed as the last of the zombies collapsed to the ground. His first mission, and he was already dealing with corpses. Fantastic. “Depends on your idea of ‘fun’,” Jason says dryly. John shrugs and pulls out a cigarette. “Wanna get a drink?” He asks, lighting it and taking a drag. Jason tilts his head. “Why?”

“Well, we won. Victory drinks.” Jason shakes his head. “You can get your own.” He waves his hand and a portal swirled open. “Damn,” John says quietly as he walked through. “He’s got a fine ass.”

John repeated this question every mission, asking if Jason wanted to get drinks, and being turned down every time. Eventually, John asked out of habit as Felix Faust was handcuffed and dragged away, and Jason sighed deeply. “Fine.” John opens his mouth, then stops. “Wait, really?”

“If you’re going to ask 35 times, I might as well see what you’re so eager for,” Jason gripes. Fuck yes. Fuck yes. You did it. You scored, John. Fuck yes. “I know this great pub in London,” John says smoothly.


Getting shitfaced with a guy you have a crush on who probably hates you is quite the unique experience, but not one John was admittedly unfamiliar with. After about 10 rounds, the bartender threw them out, and John whisked them to his house. Orchid sighed when they walked in, and sat them down by the fire. “‘Ey Orchid,” John slurred pleasantly. “Can y’ get that… uhh… that real good shit? The- the whiskey,” John stumbles over his words as he forgets the name of the drink. “No, but I can get you some water for the terrible hangover you two are going to have tomorrow,” She says sweetly. John whined, “But I wanna get shitfaaaaaaced.” Orchid patted his head. “You already are. Who’s your friend?” John looked to Jason, who was staring into space. “He’s Jason.” John leaned towards Orchid, and she leaned down as well. “He’s so hot, innit 'e?” John whispered, but had Jason been paying attention, he would’ve heard it clearly. Orchid tittered, “Sure, John.”

Orchid left the room to fetch a pitcher of water, and John leaned forwards to stare at Jason. The man looked to be growing progressively sadder. “Ey, mate,” John slurred. “Whas’sup wit’ you?” Jason looked down at his hands, and then to John. “All my friends are dead,” He sighed sadly. John stood, stumbled over to the couch, and then flopped next to Jason. “Eh, mine’re too.” John didn’t feel any remorse. None at all. Stone cold.

He patted Jason’s shoulder as the man cried, and somewhere in John’s brain, where he was slightly sober still, wondered, Is this why the poor bloke didn’t want to go drinking?


They ended up falling asleep before drinking any of the water Orchid left, and a few hours later, John awoke with a groan. “God, I need to stop doing that,” He sighed, sitting up. Then he looked down at what he was laying on, and found Jason, passed out. “Oh, fuck,” John said. Okay. We’re fully clothed. No awkward dried patches in your trousers. You didn’t have messy drunk sex with the hot guy. Calm down. John took a deep breath and then moved off of the man. “Good morning, John,” Orchid said from a different room. “What the bloody hell did I do?” John questioned.

“Well, as far as I know, you got shitfaced with that man, then got kicked out of the bar, where you came here to continue drinking. I told you i’d get you water, you called Jason hot, and then you held him while he cried until you both passed out, and neither of you drank any water.” She walks into the room carrying a plate of food. “Are you hungry?” John groaned again and collapsed on the ground dramatically. “My life is a sick joke.”




“Fuck yes! We did it!” John screamed as he sat up on his knees. Black liquid rained from the heavens as the monster howled in pain before collapsing onto the ground. Laughing hysterically, John turned to the closest person, grabbed their shirt, and kissed them. He received a punch in the face from none other than Jason Blood, who looked equally as relieved, but still pissed. John just laid on the ground and cackled as he came down from his adrenaline high, and after a moment, Jason started laughing too.


John wouldn’t admit it, but his laugh sounded beautiful.