#jon just needed a smoke

[ibeewashere]

So. Fun episode.

[justablah56]

i need to draw some terrick ...

[vilnmelling]

NPMD Digital Ticket details!

Since not every can/can afford to/wants to buy the Digital Ticket for Nerdy Prudes Must Die (and the bonus material that comes with the purchase), for your inclusion purposes, here's a list of fun background details, funny moments and comments made in the track commentary, for you to use however you like!

Ruth doesn't actually need to wear her headgear anymore, but she wears it anyway because it makes her feel safe.

Jeff pitched a Nightmare Time episode about the problematic puppy from Steph's verse of High School Is Killing Me, meaning there is a story there.

In the line, "I learned that at the anti bullying assembly last month, fucknugget!" there's a long pause before "Fucknugget!" which really makes it sound like Max forgot to insult Richie and just threw the word out.

All of the little noises Ruth makes, she makes because she has more she wants to say, but she can't say them (presumably due to anxiety).

In the proshot, you can't see fully how low Richie goes while he and Ruth sneak up on Peter, but Jon is fully crouched down. He then uses Pete's pockets and elbows to climb up like he's climbing a mountain (he mimes using a pick or axe to get good hold).

While Steph is talking, Ruth and Richie try their best to hear through the phone by getting as close as they can to it.

The reason Max and Jason were in the Pasqualli's parking lot is that they were practicing their skateboarding. They do that at Pasqualli's instead of at school/at a skatepark because they don't want the smoke club and skater kids to make them look like noobs. (This was a cut bit from the Pasqualli's scene).

The line, "Some big... dumb... sexy... football star" is expanded. In the Digital Ticket, Grace says, "Some big... dumb... sexy... sweaty... hot... well-spoken... beautifully tall football star."

When they're in the boys bathroom, Steph jumps to see over the stalls.

Richie Naruto runs when they're going to Waylon Hall. Pete slaps his hands down, but after they pause to look at the house, Richie looks over his shoulders at Pete a couple of times before darting away from him, once again Naruto running.

Richie stops in the door at the Waylon Place, so Pete pushes him inside.

Ruth and Richie speak at the same time when they say, "I'm allergic to deodorant" and "I have overactive sweat glands."

Ruth goes straight to Richie to complain after the "pus in my pits" exchange with Steph.

When Steph suggests saying there's a party at the Waylon Place, Pete, Ruth and Richie all react negatively (mostly nervously groaning).

While Grace sings the "He's just a nerd in disguise!" line, Richie can be seen practicing the first move of the Bully the Bully dance.

After Ruth says, "We're gonna cut off his nips!" you can see Steph look confused and ask, "What?"

While Pete and Richie talk in the Waylon Place ("Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda" & "She came all the way out here just for you."), Ruth and Steph discuss and practice Ruth's skeleton moves.

Richie gets stuck in the dangling parts of Pete's costume when he says, "You could just hit it and quit it, bro!" He then aggressively detangles himself.

The line "He's just really fucking brave!" comes from Richie being jealous that he's not that brave.

Richie hypes Ruth up a bit after Max says her skeleton bit was really special.

Grace hides behind Ruth while Max is dying.

Richie rolls his eyes when Grace says "It was an act of god!" (Similarly, Shapiro sighs and looks away in disbelief when Grace later says "It was god's plan!")

Pete gags when Grace says "Hack all his limbs off." Richie can also be seen gagging and holding his stomach several times.

Ruth hands Max's nipples over to Grace after cutting them off.

Jeff Blim is the principal of Hatchetfield High. Not a character of Jeff's, just Jeff himself.

Brenda still seems quite judgmental after the two weeks have passed. She makes a lot of not-quite-friendly faces when the football team's talking about Richie smelling bad.

When Richie struggles to remove the Zeke the Fightin' Nighthawk costume, he accidentally removes his jacket as well, leading to Jon having to put it back on (which he also struggles with) (and which creates a funny situation, since Richie was supposed to go shower).

Richie seems to have hurt his leg by the second fall in Nerdy Prudes Must Die (the song).

After Steph tells Grace to "Leave Ruth alone!" in the principal's office, Ruth tries to grab Steph's hand.

The wig Joey wears when he plays Dan Reynolds isn't Dan's real hair. Dan Reynolds wears a toupée.

Trevor and Angela's drama student encourage each other after they finish rehearsing.

Additional line when Grace is lying to Shapiro: "Suddenly, I remembered a crucial detail that made everything make sense. A picture came flashing into my mind, like I was Enola Holmes!"

"My dad sells women shoe! Shoes!"

Angela misses the chair at Beanie's and falls on her ass, leading to her, Joey and Mariah (mostly Mariah) breaking character.

During The Summoning, Tinky focuses ONLY on Pete. The entire time, he looks like he's restricting himself from lunging out and attacking him. At one point, he points at the Bastard's Box while staring at Pete.

90% of the time during The Summoning, Pokey's staring at his own mask.

Steph facepalms after Max says "That's nasty! ... I like it!"

[red-archivist]

TMAGP 23 SPOILERS!

i heard those lines and was immediately inspired to make something sad lol

~

Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.

Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.

Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.

It’s not enough to just stop, the shakes and the headaches nip at him constantly, and he reluctantly concludes that bad habits need to replaced by better ones.

That’s where the cycling comes in, to start with.

It’s exercise, it’s eco-friendly, and he can pretend he is literally leaving his cravings behind him as he pushes hard on the pedals.

He does his homework first, researching what is the best option for city cycling, for his budget, for someone that hasn’t ridden a bike since they were nine.

He plots out his paths to the office, the shops, and the nearest puncture repair centre, just in case. He even makes a spreadsheet to keep track of them.

He is sure Tim would poke fun at him for it, if they were still talking, but the organisation keeps his twitching fingers busy and his roaming mind away from the half-finished box of cigarettes in his desk drawer that he promises he will throw away any day now.

What all that planning fails to account for, as soon as he actually gets onto the road, is the rest of the world moving around him.

Every stereotype he has heard about antagonistic drivers is proven ten-fold as he dodges swerving cars and gets sworn at for whizzing past stalled traffic. He soon learns to sneer through tinted windows.

Pedestrians are almost worse. They seem blind to him, stepping out directly in front of his wheels and making him wobble as he overcorrects. As if a bike can’t still do some damage if he were to actually hit someone. Once, he clips the edge of a pram and stops in the street to shout some sense into the careless father pushing it.

He bitches openly about this during his lunches and his coworkers only roll their eyes at him sometimes.

The cycling becomes a bit of running joke in the office when they spot him coming in with his bike shorts and change of outfit, but he ignores them. The shorts are practical. For some reason, telling them that only makes them laugh harder.

He takes the fastest route into the office and a scenic one home. It winds through quiet well-off estates, before opening out to one of the less well-known urban parks. It’s calming, almost meditative, to roll through the cool shade the cluttered trees offer after another meaningless day of data entry.

In those times, he doesn’t think of his empty flat or his dead-end job, he forgets his sniggering coworkers and his ever-dwindling contact list. It’s just him and the wind.

The only thing that could make those moments better, he admits to himself, is a smoke.

The problem with this particular path is how hard it is to see around corners in the park. There is some national re-wilding initiative in the works and the foliage looms over the roads in a way that block his line of sight.

He checks every turn, even though it is rare to encounter a car in this area. Better safe than sorry.

The night he dies is warm but overcast.

He follows his usual route and cranes his neck to see around the overgrown corner he is approaching. A drooping branch grazes his head and something falls from the tree onto his neck.

It could be a leaf, or a twig, or a ladybird, but Jon feels the whisper-touch of something small at his throat and his only thought is: spider.

He has been afraid of them since he was very young and terrified instinct immediately beats any reason. One hand flies up from the handlebars to bat away at his collar. He swerves. Fear makes him pedal faster and the bike speeds onto the junction.

He is so scared of the potential at his throat that he never even sees the delivery truck.

The bike is sent flying from the impact, Jon falls under the wheels.

The driver, to his credit, calls emergency services immediately, distraught.

The ambulance is there within five minutes, but they needn’t have bothered. Jon is declared dead at the scene with a broken neck.

What few friends he has left comfort each other with that fact.

At least it was quick.

~

Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.

This is a good thing, Martin reminds himself, more than once. It is Good that his mother is alive.

It doesn’t matter that the nurses need to attend to her around-the-clock now. It doesn’t matter that the care home bills have skyrocketed. He is grateful that she is still with him.

He starts looking for a third job. The admin work during the day and the shelf-stocking at night barely covered his previous bills. He’ll have to look for some flexible positions to cram into his schedule.

In the meantime, he cuts back. Eats cheaply, eats less. Cancels overdue check-ups and doesn’t touch the heating.

His days are a current of constant worry, occasionally breached by a wave of panic that he tries to quell by hiding in the office bathroom and digging his nails into his legs.

Panic won’t pay the rent or keep the lights on or remember to call Mum every Sunday. He smothers it deep in his chest and ignores the spasm of pain he gets whenever he forces it down.

He has been getting those more often; sharp, sudden chest pains, numb fingers, dizzy spells, an aching back, shortness of breath.

He had been going to ask the doctor about it all before he cancelled the appointment but. Well. Needs must.

He has his first heart attack on the evening shift.

Pulling a box of washing up tablets from the top shelf in Aisle 4 causes such a rush of agony in his chest that he dares to ask the manager to take his 15-minute break early.

He doesn’t make it to the back room before he collapses.

In the hospital, after he wakes, the doctors ask if there is a family history of heart problems.

If he didn’t feel so weak he would laugh.

He has more in common with his mother then he likes to admit. Of course they share a bad heart.

Or maybe it came from his father. Mum always said he was heartless. Maybe there’s a hole where Dad’s DNA should be.

When the medical team leaves him to rest, all he can think is how much this will cost him.

The NHS is no charity no matter what their marketing says, not to mention how much money he will lose by recovering. He can’t afford six weeks of not working. His first job doesn’t have that much sick leave and his second doesn’t have any.

He runs the numbers in his head, tries to find what else he can hack out of his life to keep his head above water. Occasionally his thoughts swerve, self-recriminating and barbed. He is so stupid for letting this happen at all.

It’s all his fault.

Mum is going to be so angry with him.

His heart pulses in keen pain, bitter and broken.

Somehow, he drifts off, counting figures instead of sheep.

The second heart attack kills him in his sleep.

~

They die on the same day, at nearly the same time (Jon rushes ahead, always too eager, Martin follows inevitably after him).

Their death certificates are filed away alphabetically by a bored clerk in the dusty management system of the General Register Office.

Twenty years later, Samama Khalid exhumes them and examines them, with more curiosity than sense, only to be disappointed by the mundanity of their ends.

He returns them together, heedless of any organisation.

Jon and Martin meet, in the quiet and the dark.

The filing cabinet is a shared headstone, their names rest side-by-side.

~

Also on AO3

[garpen]

Batfam’s opinion on weed? Do they smoke?

Bruce= No. He doesn't mind other people smoking/eating edibles/etc. But it's not for him. He's too paranoid about /getting/ paranoid while high. Plus he doesn't want to get called in for an emergency or something and has to show up high. He did smoke a bit in his high school years though with Harvey.

Kate= Not until she was 30. She grew up with a strict father and joined the military at 17 and had a long career there and they did drug tests so she never could. She uses it medicinally to help with her anxiety/PTSD when she leaves the military. (She also goes to therapy, don't worry).

Luke= No. Was always too scared of what his father would think if he found out, and didn't want to disappoint him so he never touched it. Recreational smoking also wasn't legal in NJ until 2021 so he doubly wasn't gonna risk it.

Barbara= Smoked in highschool/early college mainly to help de-stress, but doesn't anymore as she's developed new ways to deal with her stress over the year. Very rarely (maybe once or twice a year) she'll have one of Jason's edibles.

Dick= Occasionally. Not until he was in his 20's and mainly to help with any pain he has. Every once in a while he will recreationally when he's with a group and they're doing a sesh.

Jason= Yes. He's invited to the monthly sesh with the rogues too. He prefers edibles though and likes putting them in the brownies he makes. He's the go to edible guy in the family/his friend group. His brownies are GREAT.

Cass = No. Never has and never will. Not for any particular reason, she just doesn't personally find the appeal (and there is nothing wrong with that).

Steph: Yes. Actually got caught smoking in the school's bathroom for the first time in 8th grade getting herself suspended for two weeks. Promised she'd never touch weed again, which was a lie. Heavily smoked in highschool, and slowed down after she turned 18. Smokes at least once a week. And LOVES Jason's brownies and will nab some whenever she gets the chance.

Tim: Yes. But he has to smoke with other people. For whatever reason if he smokes alone he gets super paranoid. He needs to be surrounded by people he trusts to comfortably smoke. Doesn't like getting high in front of his family (even if he knows they won't mind) so only does so with his friends.

Duke: Tried once with a friend when he was 16 but it was laced with something else and he had a BAD trip which completely turned him off from it. His family and friends have offered to get him weed and ensure themselves that it isn't laced with anything, but again his one experience has completely turned him off from it. Maybe when he's much older and removed from the experience he'll try again.

Damian: No. He's thirteen. When he's older though and his family/friends offer him, he still refuses. He thinks he's "above drugs" which makes the rest of the family roll their eyes at him. He sees that his father doesn't, so he refuses to as well. (In his last year of college Jon convinces him to smoke just this once, and he relents. He will never admit he enjoyed the experience)

[jeyneofpoole]

theon and robb and jon are in the stark family basement playing cod theon’s trying to get robb to smoke euron’s crazy weed strain named like kraken pussy or something but robb’s so scared. of the kraken pussy. jon needs no convincing he is actually dying on a beanbag two inches from theon who doesn’t care. robb is so paranoid that he gets up every two minutes to crack open the door and check that ned and cat are still at their boozy axethrowing date night. robb tries to smoke but they quickly discover his latent asthma and one very panicked call to sam (experienced asthmatic) later theon and jon are coaching robb through deep breathing exercises. when ned and cat come home they think there’s a teen pregnancy moment happening in their basement NO it’s just jon and theon doing birthing breath control with their honor roll teenage son huddled over a baggie of weed called kraken pussy.

[incorrectbatfam]

Damian is the warmest person in the family. Can you give me a list of times where people used him as their personal heater? Or something like that lol

Steph: Dang it, the toaster's broken.

Damian: *doing his homework in the kitchen*

Steph: Hm...

Steph: *puts bread on Damian's head*

———————

Damian: Father said to stop smoking on patrol.

Jason: He's not the boss of me.

Jason: *plucks one of Damian's hairs*

Damian: Hey!

Jason: Relax, it's just one hair. You might wanna stand away 'cause of the smoke though.

Jason: *strikes the hair like a match and lights his cigarette*

———————

Damian: *sleeping*

Duke: *roasts marshmallows above him*

———————

Cass, laying on Damian: Mmm, heated pillow.

Damian:

Damian, on the phone: Jon, I'm going to have to take a raincheck.

———————

Bruce: Damian, can you clean the snow off the driveway?

Damian: Yes, Father.

Damian: *walks around until the snow melts*

———————

Dick: It's freezing out there. I can't feel my fingers.

Dick: *sees Damian*

Dick: *squishes Damian's face to thaw his hands*

Damian: Tt.

———————

Damian: *sticks his finger in Barbara's mug*

Barbara: Damian!

Damian: It was getting cold.

Barbara: Oh, thanks.

———————

Kate: And if Renee asks why you're coming to the drive-in theater with us?

Damian: Tell her the truth.

Kate: Which is?

Damian: Your car's heater malfunctioned.

———————

Alfred: Master Damian, I need to make a quick call. Can you make sure the water is ready for tea? m

Damian: Of course.

Damian: *holds the teapot*

*teapot starts boiling*

———————

Selina: Ooh, it seems like you're running a fever.

Damian: No, I am always like this. The doctor says it's the pent-up rage inside a pint-sized body.

———————

Tim: You're like a microwaved Hot Pocket—burning on the outside, ice cold on the inside.

Damian: Thank you for the compliment. I think you do a splendid job of having teeth.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Steve’s bedroom door is open. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, pretty much everyone else wedged in here with him. Rob is on the bed too, leaning against him. Jon and Nance are sitting at the bottom. All the kids are sitting on the floor.

Everyone's quiet. Waiting. Straining to hear.

El and Eddie are next door.

And Steve has no fucking idea what the hell is going on.

The gates are all closed. Hawkins is a mess, but within the first twenty four hours there was a big push to start repairs. The government is probably pouring cash on this to tidy it up, clean it up, cover it up; make sure everyone knows it was an earthquake.

Gas main damaged in the quake leaked; if anyone saw anything weird, they’re already convinced it was a hallucination. So there’s that.

Everyone got out of hospital within hours; the worst off was probably Steve himself. His wounds from the bats, from their first run in with Vecna, still hadn't healed and one of them had been growing steadily more infected. He has fresh injuries from this time around; all of them inflicted by Eddie. Steve has two broken ribs, and he sounds like he's been smoking 100 a day for sixty years from where Eddie nearly choked him out. He needed twelve stitches in the nasty gash he picked up on the back of his head, but luckily no concussion this time. He's covered in scratches and bruises, but the hospital were happy to let him go with antibiotics and firm instructions to rest.

Eddie, surprisingly, has a clean bill of health. He was filthy, and the scars were bad but...otherwise, he didn’t have so much as an open scratch on him. Everything healed up completely. Which makes...no sense. Steve literally saw him die.

But that also means while they were preparing...planning...working to take down Vecna...he had Eddie the whole time. Potentially, that was nearly a week. The shock they had all had, seeing Eddie again. Obviously they hadn’t planned for that, hadn't factored it into their plans, and it completely and utterly fucked everything up.

They were done for. They were all going to die, no question. But something happened. Something changed. Steve was convinced he was about to get choked to death by Eddie, or maybe impaled on that ridiculous sword but...no. Eddie had blinked awake. And then he’d cut Vecna’s head clean off...which, unexpected, but still a win.

Eddie had dropped the sword, stumbling along after everyone else to get out before the gates closed on them.

Since then, Eddie's been silent. Going where he's told, stumbling through the examinations, sitting on the periphery of the group, staring into space. He looked broken, even to Steve, who realistically didn't know Eddie that well. Eddie had the vacant stare of someone who's just been though something traumatic.

When Dustin had tried to hug him, even, Eddie had flinched away.

No one tried to touch him after that, giving up talking to him pretty quickly. Eddie wasn't going to answer. Steve could practically watch Dustin getting more and more distressed over the state of Eddie. Everyone was aware; all they could do was sit and watch it happen.

Once they were out of the hospital they could look after him; try and figure out what the fuck was happening.

Eddie had disappeared pretty much the moment he had opportunity. He’d mumbled something about finding a bathroom, pretty much the first words he;d spoken, and as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that Eddie wasn't coming back. The hospital was a mess, and they were supposed to wait for Owens.

Obviously the kids weren’t willing to let him out of their sight that fast. Vecna’s done something to him, controlled him somehow, that much is obvious. Just...nobody knows what.

When Owens finally showed, it was done and dusted fast. They confirmed Henry/One was dead. Owens had a lot of other shit to sort out; they were no longer his priority and they knew it. Dustin had been ball of barely contained anxiety the whole time, clearly wanting to track down Eddie but...by some sort of group mutual understanding...no one mentioned Eddie was alive. No one said he'd come back with them.

In the confusion, no one seemed to question it. Owens clearly hadn't bothered to look at the hospital's records, or whatever it was he could do. They left as fast as they could without raising suspicion.

The kids had found Eddie again pretty quickly, more through luck than anything, but finding Eddie sitting on the porch of some random house, nursing a bottle of vodka was...well. Everyone’s got their own coping mechanisms, Steve guesses.

Eddie still hasn’t spoken about what happened, but he was pretty quick to pass out on the spare bed.

El’s got that look on her face when she comes back, like she’s thinking big thoughts.

“Is he okay?” Dustin asks first. Obviously there were concerns. Vecna had Eddie for days, there could be anything in Eddie’s head. What if there’s something...lingering...from Vecna? Could be a risk.

El shakes her head, “he is very sad.”

“Sad about what?” Nancy, this time.

“When Eddie was…” she makes a face, she doesn’t have the words, for a moment, to convey what she wants to say, she puts the fingertips of both hands together, making bars, “Vecna put Eddie’s mind in a cage, he doesn’t remember what his body was doing, I don’t think.”

“So Vecna had him as a kind of puppet? He couldn’t get out of the cage?” Robin clarifies, “that’s good right, he didn’t see himself hurting us?”

El tilts a hand from side to side, “he did not want to leave the cage. Vecna made him…” she purses her lips, “love. He was in love. They had a baby, she grew up, she was going to college.”

“That makes no sense, he was there less than a week?”

“Time is different in dreams.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimes in, “even if a dream feels long, it actually happens really fast.”

Steve huffs, “right, but he knows now, right, that it wasn’t real? So it doesn’t matter, right?”

“It matters to him,” El tells him so firmly Steve feels like he fucked up, “it was real to him.”

“Steve,” Nancy turns to him, “imagine if you got married, had...I don’t know, six kids and a Winnebago,” Steve winces because, yeah, okay, he might have deserved that, “and you come home after years and years of living that, being happy, only to find out it wasn’t real, how would you feel?”

“It’d be like they died,” Robin says next to him, suddenly gasping and making a pained noise, “oh that’s horrible. Poor Eddie.”

El’s nodding, and everyone else is silent, clearly letting that sink in.

And, yeah, Steve figures...that’s got to be pretty awful.

The kids have gone home, but Nancy, Rob, Jon and Argyle have all stayed. They promised the kids they would watch over Eddie, which wasn’t hard since Eddie’s been asleep pretty much since they got back. Steve doesn’t know if is the most of a bottle of vodka Eddie had downed, or the week he’s had but...he’s still asleep.

They take it in turns to check on him, every half an hour, someone comes up. Just to check.

Steve doesn’t know what woke him, but he needs to piss. Robins passed out next to him, snoring her wheezy little snore. Steve gets up and goes to the bathroom, figures he should check on Eddie.

And Steve finds himself suddenly very awake at the sight of an empty bed and an open window.

They split up, heading for likely places. Nancy, Argyle and Jon pile into Jon’s car, heading for Wayne first and then with a vague plan to work through town on the way back if he’s not there.

Steve and Robin strike out in the opposite direction.

“Lets head for the place the kids found him.”

“You think he would have gone back there?”

Robin shrugs, “why did he go there in the first place?”

“You think it means something to him?” A horrible feeling starting to form in the pit of Steve’s stomach, even as Robin shrugs ‘maybe’ at him.

They can’t see Eddie, but Robin insists they check it out. Steve’s glad Robin has half their brain, because she was dead right. There’s smashed glass on the porch and the door is open; someone has broken in.

Part Three

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos

[reareaotaku]

Menace to Society

Summary: You met the infamous Damian Wayne and neither of you are impressed. Content: Jon Kent mentioned, kinda derailed... I'm sorry, Could also be kind of read as Jon Kent x Reader too, but it's meant to be Damian Wayne x Reader..., Fem! Reader Taglist: N/a

[Pt II?]

[--- : Three Dashes is flashback] [---: 2nd Three Dashes is back to the present] [--: Two Dashes is Time Skip]

You had heard the rumors about the Wayne boy, but you didn't pay it much mind. You never thought you encounter him, so it didn't seem productive to think about him. Besides you had bigger problems; Like the fact you lived in fucking Gotham City, the most dangerous city in America. Oh, to have been born to a family in Metropolis is a dream you wish for every night, hoping to wake from this damn nightmare.

The rumors varied, depending on who was telling them. Some say he was incredibly handsome, just like his father- Others said he was a rotten guy who knew no empathy or compassion for another human being. You were leaning towards the latter, because he was a rich boy, who had never known a day of poverty, of course he'd be a stuck up bastard. Though, you didn't blame him, you were sure he was enabled.

You found it weird when you'd defend the boy's actions. It could have just been because you didn't know him and felt less biased. That was until you met the asshole.

He was worse than anyone had ever described. He was literally the child of hell. He was entitled, selfish, egotistical and narcissistic. He was your worse nightmare.

He didn't like you either. You were such an annoyance to him. Granted, most people annoyed him, but you were different. It's like you were a chigger [What are Chiggers?] digging into his skin and chewing on his flesh. Not to mention it seemed you were a pest on his life. He just couldn't get rid of you no matter how hard he tried.

The crazy thing is you were rarely around ech other, but when you are it feels like eternity. You felt like you were constantly competing with a spoiled brat and he felt like you were an annoying pest trying to push him to the side.

The thing is you were too similar to each other. At least that's what Jon thought. You remembered the first time you met Jon and he made the comparison.

---

You pushed through the crowds, before getting off the train. You sighed when looking around of the city of Metropolis. It was just a small trip, because your father needed some things from the city, that weren't in Gotham, but he was to busy, so he asked you to do it. You weren't going to get distracted.

--

You looked through the multiple vinyls. There were dozens of books on the shelves around you that you had already scoured. Your eyes were lead up to the top shelf of one of the bookcase, before your eyes caught a big black clock. It said 5:45- Your father wanted you home at 6...

You were never going to be allowed out again.

You rushed through the store, trying to catch your barings, but just your luck, you run into a man. You quickly apologize before standing u, brushing yourself off and picking up your things. You look down at him- He... looked different than guys in Gotham.

You wondered if it was something in the water, because the boys in Metropolis looked more... alive? They looked like the type that haven't had evil wrap it's nasty smoke around them since the day they were born. They were carefree and happy. How nice.

He looked up at you with baby blue eyes, before a light pink dusted his cheeks. He had a school-boyish charm. He looks at your hand that you had out for him, before he takes it.

"I'm Jon," He grips your tightly as he looks down at you. He was incredibly tall and you didn't realize it until he stood up.

"Y/n..." You say, trying to take your hand back but he has a tight grip on you. "Um.. Can I have my hand back?"

He blushes a darker red, before letting go of your hand and apologizing. He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you. "So, are you new to Metropolis?"

"Uh... No- I mean I guess, but I don't like here. I'm just getting stuff for my dad."

"Oh, uh-"

Before he can finish his statement, the shop keeper comes out and starts yelling at you about having to pay. You looked at him confused before realizing that you still had the vinyl in your hands. You blushed darkly, realizing this guy probably thought you were a thief and you wanted to shoot yourself.

You apologized to the man, before handing him the vinyl, telling him you didn't mean to take it, your mind just went blank when realizing the time. Thankfully, the store keeper was understanding and took the vinyl before going back inside.

There were a few minutes of silence, before the guy- Jon- starts laughing. "Gosh, he was so mad, his face looked like a tomato."

You smile, nodding, "Yeah, he was, wasn't he?"

Jon opens his mouth to speak, but then your phone starts ringing and you freeze up. You pull your phone out of your pocket and sigh when seeing your father's number.

"Sorry, I have to take this-" You take a few steps way from him, before answering the phone.

"Y/n were are you?"

"I'm still in Metropolis-"

"What? Why are you still there?"

"I got... distracted?"

You hear a sigh and groan, causing you to frown.

"Get home as soon as you can."

"Okay," You hang up the phone, before sighing. You were just happy he didn't yell at you through the screen.

"Are you in trouble?"

You jumped a little before looking back at Jon. You forgot that he was there.

"Uh... No, not really... But I do have to get back home."

"I can take you! I mean, I can walk with you... You know," He gestures to you, not knowing what to say. "I mean," He quickly shakes his head and hands, "Not that you can't take care of yourself, but it'd be really shitty if I let you walk alone."

You smirk, looking the boy up and down. He would never last a second in Gotham. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Besides, I don't think you want to go where I'm going."

"Well where are you going?"

--

Jon is starting to regret his offer. Not because of you, but because of the people who were squished against him. The subway smelled awful, like death and piss, and made him scrunch his nose. You were pressed against his chest, hoping the next stop was your stop.

"You know, I have a friend in Gotham. He's a lot like you-"

"I'm like a guy?" You joke, causing him to blush and quickly back track.

"No- No. I mean, you're like him in the way you act. But, you're nicer."

"Yeah? What's his name?"

"Damian Wayne."

---

You groaned, trying to ignore the laughter of the gangs that you had to pass. You could feel their stares go through you as you try and walk away as fast as possible. Your fear rose when hearing footsteps behind you.

Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back.

You hear a flop and a groan and stupidily look back. On top of the man who was following you was The Robin- Well, not 'THE' Robin, but one of them... The new one.

Robin's eyes go up to you, before they widen for a second.

"Y/n?"

"Do I know you?"

Before he could back track, you hear some fabric flap[?] and look back to see THE Batman. He was tall and incredibly intimidating.

"You should probably go home, kid."

"Yeah." You look back at Robin, before back at Batman. "Yeah, I will."

[xoxoladyaz]

Deep down, Steve knows that it's only a matter of time until he gets caught.

It feels like he's gone through the five stages of grief, like, twenty times. He can't count how many hours he's spent rationalizing it: what Eddie doesn't know won't hurt him, this is normal, people do it all the time, and besides, Eddie would feel completely betrayed if he knew and their relationship is so new that it's just not worth the risk. The absolute last thing he wants is to upset Eddie and this will just make him upset so really, Steve is doing the honorable thing by just not telling him, by pretending that he's not hiding anything, that everything is fine.

But it's not Eddie that catches him; hell, it isn't even someone in the Party; it's Jeff, Eddie's friend/Hellfire Club member/Corroded Coffin bandmate who shows up too early for D&D at Steve's one day and sees something he shouldn't have.

"This isn't what it looks like."

Jeff walks into the kitchen and frowns, like he's confused by what he's seeing and why Steve is so anxious, why he's sweating like he's just run a marathon. "It looks like you're blending a bunch of veggies together in a blender."

Shit. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

Jeff still looks confused. "And this is a big deal because - "

"Because I haven't told Eddie that the 'special pasta sauce' that I've been using the last three months whenever we have spaghetti and meatballs is actually entirely made of, like, ten different kinds of vegetables," Steve rushes out, and Jeff's face smoothes in understanding.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. The dude has a weird vendetta against veggies."

Steve groans, slumping in relief. "Tell me about it. Do you know how hard it is to hide veggies in every single meal that I make for him? Because if I don't, then he's never going to eat them, and I'm worried about his health enough as it is."

Jeff nods. "It's the smoking, right?"

"The smoking, and the drinking, and I know he's sneaking out to smoke with Jon and Argyle, but he doesn't exercise and he only eats highly processed cereal with loads of sugar and I just don't want him to have a heart attack before the age of forty!"

"Hey, hey, Steve, man, your secret's safe with me." Jeff holds his hands up in supplication. "And for the record, I'm on your side. The dude is like a feral raccoon."

"I know," Steve sighs. "But he's my feral raccoon."

That makes Jeff start laughing. "If it makes you feel any better, my mom and I have been doing the same thing for years now. If you want, we could exchange recipes sometime."

"Really?" Steve perks up and now, now he's excited. "That would be great!"

"Sick. Need some help with the meatballs?"

"Please!"

And that is how Eddie and Gareth and Phil and Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Erica and Will find them later, chatting and laughing while Steve tosses his homemade noodles into his now-simmering pasta sauce, Jeff sitting on the kitchen island and drinking a beer.

This time, it's Jeff who looks like he's seen a ghost. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Oh?" Eddie asks, and his voice is totally controlled, which means that Jeff is screwed. "So you're not hanging out with my boyfriend and making him do that cute little blushy giggle that is my cute blushy giggle?"

"Eddie!" Steve scolds, but it's too late, Jeff knows his fate is sealed.

"Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

(Jeff's rogue is caught in the blast zone when Dustin's ranger kills a large acid toad. Still, he can't feel too mad when he sees Eddie smirk and then lick the veggie sauce out of his pasta bowl.)

[grimdarling69]

Another deaged Dan and Ellie or otherwise known as Crack pt 6

Pt1. Pt2. Pt3. Pt4. Pt5.

Kon could immediately tell something was wrong with the kryptonite weapons firing at them. Another green blur shot at himnand he spun in the air over it. A move to evade the blast and check on his family.

The kryptonite guns had just enough kryptonite for it to be dangerous only if the blast hit them. They'd immediately go down. Another blast entered his field of vision, and he swerved to the side. He tried to use his supervision but was only met with lead. They couldn't get closer because of the guns, and he could see Jon get angrier his eyes glowed red in warning of his laser, and Kon flew up to evade him.

"Superboy! Don't use them it could deflect -" his father spoke from his higher position quite a few paces away from them, but Jon ignored him.

The vision hit the gun, and the metal melted into orange, red, and green mess. Like an ugly Christmas tree. Weird. Usually, Luthor would have more security than this. Something is officially wrong.

The batjet he'd been keeping an ear out for since he left finally arrived just as Jon melted another one. The jet swerved the blasts even though he doubted it could even hurt them at this point. The jet shot st a few of the blaster and destroyed them an even more explosive mess. Kon used his own vision, his glasses held in place below the lasers on his face with his hand. Another gun exploded, and his father finally got the hint and exploded several of his own.

The jet careened around them and expertly angled between the already destroyed guns and landed onto the beach. He continued exploding the guns but kept an ear out for the bats on the beach. The ones closest to him were mostly destroyed, so he joined his father in his sector while Jon landed on the beach.

Good luck.

--------------

Jason was not having a good time at all. Not to say he expected to have a great time rescuing his little brother, but he was hoping to try to get some of the bubbling green rage under control by demolishing some robots. He may possibly not have the best guns for demolishing these robots, he was handling it of course, he was a bat after all, he'd be an even worse disappointment if he couldn't handle some glowing green robots that remind him heavily of thing he'd prefer to leave in the past. He risked a glance toward Dick and could see him take down several robots in an expert acrobatic movement that sent him soaring off each of their head and switching between crushing or electrocuting them with his escrima sticks. Show off.

One of the robots he was fighting suddenly crackled and burned a smoking trail into the sky before exploding and sent himself and several other robots crashing into the walls and each other. It must have been faulty wiring. He knew he didn't touch that one, Babs was still mostly blocked out, and none of his siblings were running to patronize him for getting hurt. If he didn't know better, he'd say the robots were cheaply made, but that's never been Lex Luthors style.

"Red Hood. Help Red Robin turn the robots off in the central monitor room. We need to manually plug Oracles systems into the computers here." Right. Thank you, Bruce, for always being there at the worst possible times. He groaned and attempted to shake the tweeting birds away from his head.

"On it, Batman." He couldn't bring himself to use any stupid nicknames right now. He cataloged all the other bats just in case. Goldie was still the same show off. Red Robin had knocked out his robots and joined him for destroying his wave. Spoiler and Signal were in the rafters doing... something with his powers and reflective baterangs. He wasn't touching that with a fifty foot pole no way. They had a tendency to make things explode with those things. Orphan and Batman were still outside the burning hole in the wall they blasted to get through, so he couldn't find them, but they were probably kicking ads anyway. Suddenly, Tim launched himself backward through the air using his staff and landed behind him, hunkering down and messing with his wristcomputer. That assshole definitely planted explosives. He quickly got one last hit on the current robot and used it to launch himself past his head. Just as he landed, several small bombs exploded on the robots and collided with each other, creating more explosions.

"Time to go Hood."

"Lead on, Replacement."

----------

Why does Superman always disrupt my plans? Not just Superman, he reminds himself, he'd brought their son and his brother. As well as Daniel's family or Damian, whatever. The bats were the worst destroying his robots and his walls. Okay, maybe he didn't have the best robots here because they might be missing quite a few parts and kryptonite. But he needed for the portal, and both Vlad Masters and Lex Luthor were anything but resourceful.

The monitor beeped erratically. Gods above if Damian was going to flatline again. He technically wasn't flatlining but pumping ectoplasm through his heart instead of blood at that moment, and that messed with moniters, and when that happens, nurses get all hysterical and almost actually flatline him.

It wouldn't be such a problem if Damian wasn't severely lacking ectoplasm. Typically, his blood was made of both of it. All that rest from the medicine induced coma that he put him in certainly helped him fight the corruption and was now creating his own. See, if only Damian listened to him more often. It'd be better for everyone.

The moniter died down again, and he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"Whatever am I going to with you?" He muttered with his head leaning back.

"Maybe stop beating me up." He shot up toward the voice. He wasn't supposed to be awake yet, but this was better anyway. He had to get him into the portal before the bats destroyed all the robots. Another litte voice in his brain betrayed him and reminded him the portal was still not done, and they were closing in.

"Little Badger, you know I don't start fights. I end them." He reprimanded.

"And you know I hate that nickname, and we both know you start fights all the damn time."

"Language." Damian stared unimpressed at him. How was he meant to explain this? The supers and bats somehow discovered where we are and are fighting their way in and are currently tearing the main control room apart? Actually, that isn't that bad.

He told Damian just that, and somehow, he didn't seem to like his paraphrasing. Can't please anyone anymore.

"What do you mean my family is here? How could they track us? This isle is supposed to be superproof."

"I don't know, but I don't have some ideas. I believe Susan has betrayed our trust and ratted us out. I will unfortunately have to fire her, and I was just beginning to like her." He sighed. All the best employees turn out to be useless and disloyal. That's why he prefers A.I. Until it started to betray him, too. Ugh. Never get good help anywhere nowadays.

"Vlad! Focus! I need to get to the portal right now!" He winced.

"Well, about that -" Damian shot up and stumbled on his legs from not moving for two weeks, probably. He reached to steady him.

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone." His godson growled and scampered past him. He left the medical area and quickly started studying his current readings and calculations.

" I've already checked hundreds of times. I can't find out what's wrong with it." He tried to explain but was forced to watch, and Damian grabbed a random red pen and started scribbling all over his things. He sighed again. Teenagers.

"I've got it!" Oh you've got to be kidding me!

"You're trying to create your fancy portal. We don't have the time or materials for that, but we can recreate The Fenton Portal. Most of the ectoplasm is soda anyway. I stashed some in the fridge around here since you banned me from drinking it while we were working." He explained already halfway across the lab and opening a fridge labeled 'chemicals only'. Why does he even try anymore?

More alerts were popping up. Most of his robots were down now and the last remaining ones were the brainless ones not connected to the central computer that luckily he didn't have connected to some of his tech just in case, including this lab. Which now meant he would need to take control of the robots himself. Unless he wanted them to be defeated in less than a minute. Luckily again, most of the kryptonite he had that he hadn't rerouted into the portal was inside those portals.

"I'm going to attack your family now." He announced, cracking his knuckles and hacking into his own robots easily.

"Don't kill them, or I'd have to kill you." He replied, ripping and welding parts together. He's pretty sure he just watched him weld something together with 7up. Nope. Not today.

-----------

Jon was feeling...off. He, for some strange reason, felt an urge to let himself be hit by the kryptonite. Not in a suicidal way, but in a way, he instinctively wanted to be...with the kryptonite. Something that is incredibly dangerous to kryptonians like him even if he's only half.

For a while, he dodged guns, destroyed guns, destroyed robots, and then the Reds destroyed the main computer, and most of the robots deactivated until... the robots suddenly started to get stronger and smarter.

TV moniters suddenly flickered on and Lex Luthor was displayed.

"Luthor! Return Damian Wayne now to uss and we will consider lessening your sentence." His father spoke loudly, assuming mics were around somewhere.

"Oh really? You've never been able to get those charges to stick before. What make you think they'll suddenly stick now?" He mocked cruelly.

"You won't get away with this, this time, Luthor." Batman threatened.

"Coming from the man who can even get a failed circus clown to stay in prison? I think I'll be fine."

"Luthor, I know that something is going on. If you tell us we can help you." Nightwing spoke masterfully, emphasizing the man who stole his little brother. He didn't trust he wouldn't stare screaming and yelling at the crazy fruitloop if he tried to say anything. Wait-fruitloop? Where did that come from? He shook his head to clear the thought, but he somehow made eye contact with the shadow he suspected to be Orphan. Who is somehow emitting a very concerned aura. He ignored that and focused on the conversation just in time to hear large explosions from the TV.

"Damian!" Nightwing yelled out. Superman glanced around wildly as if trying ti will himself into seeing or hearing through lead.

He was concerned... but he didn't feel as worried as he should be for his best friend. Like he was definitely worried but he had a gut feeling he would be fine. And a little exasperated for some reason.

"What the hell are you doing? Get back to work! If we don't get that portal open before they find us, I'm going to rearrange your organs upside down!" Luthor yelled behind him. He could feel his face heat up, and he covered his eyes just in case.

"Don't you dare threaten him!" Nightwing yelled at the screen. Batman was starting at his wrist screen as if it would disappear if he looked away. The shadow had slunked away sometime. Spoiler and Signal nowhere to be seen.

"What are you gong to do? Reach through the screen and throttle me?" He taunted.

The screen suddenly started to glitch out in green bursts. It reminded him of kryptonite but...

"I've found them. Follow these directions. I'm almost there myself." He overheard Signal from Batmans comms. He repeated them twice, but he had already grabbed Nightwing and saw his dad grab his own bat. They couldn't go as fast as he wanted to because of the tight spaces, making superspeed dangerous to the supports. If they went too fast, the building could go down on them. They went faster than they should have anyway.

They reached the door where Signal, Spoiler, and Orphan were trying to wrench the doors off the hinges using several blowtorches and a misshapen crowbar.

"I've got it." He set Nightwing on the ground and cleared the door off the hinges just to see a large explosion of green. And Lex Luthor shooting powered up kryptonite(?) from his hands.

He dodged the blasts but his father wasn't able to and was sent flying to the wall smoking.

"Dad!" He screamed his anger at him forgotten. He flew over him and he vaguely remembers a yellow blur following him.

There was a smoking crater on his chest. Burns of all degrees decorating his suit.

"Dad?" He collapsed to the floor infront of him.

"It's okay, Jon. It's not that... bad... it looks worse than is. I promise. Go...bakc to the...fight." his dad spoke, his voice cracking, and he knew his dad was completely powered down. He had to get him to the sun.

"I'm getting you out of here." He promised and gathered him into his arms carefully. He was about to laser several random walls down when Signal handed him the closest trajectory to the outside.

"Hurry. We can handle this." He lied. They couldn't handle a powered Luthor, and he's couldn't let his dad die. He nodded and turned his head away, and his eyes lit up in burning pools of red.

----------

The green was mesmerizing. The only word Cass could describe it. Like it was the only thing that could understand her. It reminded her of the Lazarus Pits.

She ran inside with Spoiler, Nightwing, and Batman close behind. Luthor tried to shoot at them, but they dodged skillfully. She looked past him and could see Damian typing madly on a computer. His movements were deliberate, and he knew what he was doing, but his body betrayed hum to her. His fingers were still, but his wrist twisted slightly too much. His ankles shifted weight between one another. His head tilted backward like he was physically stopping himself from looking at them.

"Damian!" Nightwing vaulted over a blast.

Damian froze for a second but willed himself to continue with new determination, painting his body. Something wasn't right. He should be running to them. Telling them he had a plan they ruined but would pause for enough time they knew he was struggling if they asked for it.

"Damian? We're here to save you!" Nightwing dodged another blast. She could see his plan. Distract both Damian and luthor. It was working, too. Luthor was occssionly shooting her, but he'd all but forgotten about Batman and Spoiler in the rafters.

Damian wasn't at all easily distracted she could tell from his headtilt he was watching them. He sped up the computer. The large portal machine expanded, and greens swirled around.

"Shut it down, Damian!" Nightwing shouted, attempting to rush luthor but failing. She launched herself using the distraction to take luthor out. He is somehow stronger than she can remember flung her off rough enough she hit the wall. She saw stars and failed to rise. Her vision was blurring, but she could see Batman's blurry figure attempting to subdue luthor and succeeding. Where's spoiler?

There she is! Spoiler kumped down on top of Luthor and put meta cuffs on him using the elemnt of suprise. Nightwing reached Damian just as the portal exploded, adding unfamiliar purples mixed in. Nightwing was thrown back, but he recovered and ran back. Batman and Luthor struggled in vain for control. She blinked, and Spoiler was a purple blur at her side.

Her body riddled with worry. She reached out and gently prodded her for injuries.

"Fine. Help little... brother." she tried to say, but it was mostly slurred from the blood loss. Spoiler glanced at her nervously and took out her field aid.

"No. Fine." She attempted to convey, but she just shushed her quietly. She turned back to the fight just in time to catch Damian slip through the portal. Nightwing didn't hesitate to run after him.

"No!" Her father's voice and anguished growled after watching two sons slip through. He tried to follow them, but Luthor got free and broke the computer powering. Just as Batman reached the edge, he hesitated, and the portal fizzled out.

She tried to stay awake but the gentle shushing from Spoiler lulled her into the embrace of darkness.

---------

Dick Grayson hit the strange glowing bluish snow and rolled to a soft stop. He looked around frantically and spotted Damian kneeling on the ground. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and his face was screwed up in pain.

"Damian!" He ran to him and kneeled by his side, hesitating to grab his son if he was injured but wanting to scoop him up after being missing for two months now.

"You shouldn't be here." He murmured but he leaned against him heavily.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. We almost thought you were dead." He gave up looking for physical injuries apart from the maybe a mix between 1st and 2nd degree burns and clutched his son to his chest.

"It's not...safe for you...here."

"And it is for you?" He gathered him in his arms best he could, minding the burns on him. Neither of them were wearing clothes meant for the storm.

The strange snow was colder than any snow he's ever seen before, and it had an otherworldly component to it. Another point for the interdimensinal portal. Behind then sharp hissing screeched behind them and the greens snd purples disappeared. Shit. That was their way out.

"Who goes there?" A large voice echoed from the trees and he cursed himself for not studying his surrounding more. A large...yeti? Emerged from the pine trees he wore armor and had a ice prosthetic hand. He looked mean and rugged.

"Frostbite!" Damian yelled from his arms and started struggling. He gripped him tighter. Like hell, he was letting him loose after everything. Even if he somehow knew this kinda of cool looking yeti. The yetis eyes lit up in what he thinks his recognition.

"Great one? Have you returned to us? Who is this?" The yetis voice was softer but still dangerous he kept his mouth shut and hoped Damian knew what to say.

"My-baba? We need to get your village. I need some help." Wow. Damian had never acknowledged he was anything other than his older brother before. If he wasn't a bat and damn good at compartmentalizeing, he'd probably start crying. Or pass out. Probably both.

"All right then, Great One. Any family or friends of his is friends of ours. Follow me."

Which is how he came to be standing in the middle of an entire town of yetis getting scrutinized by Frostbite(?).

"So how did you meet our King? I've never seen you before." He questioned curiously. What the actual fuck did he get into now.

[dipperscavern]

jon snow brainrot rn.

like imagine finding him after the whole thorne execution, post-death and post-revival

i need to hold him so bad🙁🙁 in spite of the horrid crawl of his skin, hair at his nape standing on end, urging him avert his gaze as you approach, he can't help but seek your soft stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. and his heartbeat is quickening, and his breathing grows sharp

his hand trembles and no matter how desperately he tries to hold fast, he crumbles when you near, raising a hand to his cheek; warm and soft and tender. his breath hitches violently in his chest and his head falls to the crook of your neck, his silent sobs disrupting the quiet with small soundless gasps

and you hold him close, with a gentleness he deserves that he'd never before recieved, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back as he helplessly leans his weight on you to finally release the overflow of agony he'd all but drowned in 🙁🙁🙁

SWEET BOY, I NEED TO HOLD HIM💔💔

SONGBIRDS — JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x fem!reader, 3.1k words

synopsis: the ask above <3

authors note: ouh this was a rough one! i did in fact steal sentences from this ask, so thank u anon!! i love u!! become a writer!! thank u to my febu frongers @useralba & @eldrith for helping me not lose my sanity over this, love y’all!! enjoy i guess 🙄(if possible) (i’m gonna be quiet now)

SNAP

you’re brought out of your thoughts with a jolt, startled so badly you near fall out of the tree you’ve found sanctuary in. that doesn’t sit well with you, you’ve always been steady.

so was bran, a small voice whispers. so was he, another part of you agrees — and the one it mentions has naught to do with climbing.

was, your mind echoes bitterly. it seems like everyone who once surrounded you is only that anymore, a was. a whisper of the past, faces seen nowhere but in living memory; and now, he has joined them.

fresh tears roll down your cheeks, and you wipe them as soon as they join the conversation of grief. bitterness — mourning — desperation, all cradling you at once.

you readjust your form, limbs beginning to fall asleep from the tight position they’re in. if only you could do the same. it seems the gods have deemed you unable, as every time your eyes droop, you see the face of the lord commander.

the mere thought of him is paining, and the sight of him was entirely too much to bear. so much so that you fled, the memory squeezing uncomfortably at your chest.

his eyes, once ever-expressive, dulled to nothing but an expressionless saccharine blur. lips parted, yet no air being brought in to fill his lungs. the snow beneath him was stained a bloody crimson, and you can almost feel the familiar cold of the icy ground beneath your knees as you kneel beside the form of the man you love.

at first, you had cried. whispering pleas to whomever would listen, clutching any part of him you could reach — you had even attempted to stop the bleeding. stupid, stupid girl.

then, it seemed to occur to you that you were touching death. slowly removing your hands, looking down at the lifeless body of jon snow. and just like that, repulsion had entered your veins. no — rejection.

you rejected this. you rejected death, you rejected the finality you had been dealt. you had stood, clutching your bow, arrows lightly jostling from the movement. hunting.

you had been hunting while jon was dying.

if only time had dealt you a mercy, perhaps you would’ve made it back in time. to save him, or just to say goodbye, you’re not greedy in your wishing.

you glance to your hands, still stained with his blood. suddenly, your eyes flutter shut as you see the image of his body again — his wounds smoking in the cold nights air. it feels like a lifetime ago. rejection has long since abandoned you, leaving bitter acceptance in its wake.

you blink, eyes threatening tears, and your gaze finds the white and red blur of a weirwood tree. you return to the woods to escape, yet the gods find you anyway; what cruel mockery.

how could they, yet again? don’t they see all you lose? they must, you think, as they’re the ones who keep taking. is that the only joy a god may find? maybe now, that’s why you hunt; to send them a life as sick compensation for the one they took. what an acidic dance.

CRACK

this time, when a twig breaks, you are not so foolish as to think it only by coincidence. you aren’t the only hunter out here — yet you did not think to find yourself as prey.

whatever stalks you is enough to bring you out of the cynicality of grief, snapping you into a different mindset. though previously unsure how much more you can withstand, your body proves otherwise, flawless in its transition and execution.

you heart increases its rhythm, surefire in its performance, allowing extra blood flow and oxygen to be pumped to your aching muscles. your breathing changes, now quick and rapid breaths to take in more air which prove effective as you shift yourself from your sitting position.

you had chosen not the tallest tree, but the thickest and most concealed. it gives more room for stability, allowing you to exercise your position; a small decision you now are thankful for as you move forward, outstretching yourself on its thick limb to try and catch glimpse of whatever it is that seeks you.

unfortunately, the concealment that hides you does its job too well. you try to peer through the branches and leaves for what feels like ages, but they prove too thick. you curse under your breath, withdrawing from the branch to retreat back to the trees trunk once more.

closing your eyes, you listen. the gust of wind, the rustling of leaves, a raven cries in the distance. you wait.

there — your ears are graced with the light chirp of birds, in your own tree and in others nearby.

“If danger is near, the birds don’t sing.”

ned starks voice rings through your ears, so loud and clear that for a moment, you almost lose concentration. if asked why, you’d never be able to directly say why your eyes didn’t snap open, why your head didn’t swivel around, looking for the source of the voice you’ve heard. can you and the gods share a secret, if it’s one they decide not to include you on?

as the melody of songbirds continue, you shift to begin your descent.

in any other scenario you would stay in the tree, concealed by its branches until the threat was certainly gone. but things are different. jon is dead — you seek a fight. (do you, or do you refuse to allow the stranger your soul as well?)

the decision made, even in grief, isn’t a rash one. whatever it is isn’t nearby enough to silence the singers, and this may be your only window of opportunity to flip the coin; restoring yourself as predator, not prey.

your feet hit the ground, and you wince at the noise made. it’s midday, so you cannot hope for nightfalls rescue of concealment.

you pause, peering around you while you allow yourself a moment to think. your hunting grounds have always been the forest that surrounds castle black, and you had retreated to the very edge of it. your hunter has come from the north — funny enough, from the direction of castle black itself. if you’re careful, you can make a loop back east, foregoing your usual trail. swallowing your nerves, you begin to move your feet.

your senses are heightened, alike to how they are in battle, but this is different. instead of blood pulsing in your ears, they’re attuned to every sound, no matter how minuscule. the smell of blood and death is replaced by nature, the scent of oak & pine leaves fighting to not be smothered by the cold.

you don’t make much progress before you turn a corner and yelp in surprise, being met with a hulking figure, red eyes boring into you.

“Ghost—!” you shout; in surprise, frustration, and relief all at once. your breathing heavies, heart now beating wildly, ready to supply you should you need to run at a moments notice. then, somehow, you’re smiling. you smile at ghost, at the birds, who didn’t notice him enough to quiet themselves, and the childness of it all. you kneel, shouldering your bow and outstretching an arm.

ghost seems like he’s been waiting for your action, stepping forward immediately. you register his willingness — had he been searching for you? or did he find jon dead and left, as you did, finding you accidentally? if only he could speak; the phantom of a thousand words.

he’s soft under your hands, a small comfort parading in the wake of sad relations. and suddenly, you feel guilty. how long has ghost been by jon’s side? how fierce, the loyalty the direwolf has shown him? how fierce the devotion jon had shown him in return? he mourns alongside you, grief arguably more substantial, as he was given no explanation. how could he understand such matters?

an idiot thought, you're quick to push it away. you both have every right to grief, there is more than enough to go around.

eventually, ghost pulls away, and begins padding in the direction to castle black. you think he means to be solitary, but after a few paces, he stops, turning to look back at you. expectant.

though your breath hitches and grief nags at you once more, you swallow it down, and begin to follow the only remnant of jon snow — a piece of him that the gods saw fit to leave you. what cruel mercy, coming from the same hands of injustice.

though content to wallow in your anger, your disbelief, you refuse to allow the direwolf to return to castle black alone. strangely, the farther you follow him, the more you get a sense of deja vu. it can’t be more than a few minutes before you see a tree with bark missing, torn off and left bare its left side, which is now your right. a mark you had left to remember your trail. ghost has tracked your scent from castle black.

with the realization arises conflicted feelings, as if they can’t agree on how you feel. loyalty rings faintly in the back of your mind, the things done for love.

you forcibly close your mind, numbing yourself as to be fully in the present. you’ll have the rest of your days to dwell on it; but only now are you here, in the company of trees and wolves and birds, oh how they sing.

and suddenly, the melody is quiet.

time itself has been stopped, halted in its tracks. there’s no rustling of branches, of leaves, no sound of birds, no sound at all — the world has become inaudible.

you and ghost mirror each other in the ways you both lurch to a halt. a sick feeling infects your gut, hairs rising on the back of your neck, and the instinctual need to flee almost takes over. but something keeps you there, rooted to your spot, feet unmoving. what anchors you, is another secret between you and the gods; another peculiar joke that you stay the punchline of.

then, after a moment, a gust of wind graces the forest. it blows your hair, rustles through the trees, and almost hesitantly so, the birds begin their song again. ghost looks back at you, surveying as if this is the first time he’s seen you.

he begins to lead the way once more, but a thought still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re unable to shake off the unease in your gut. what has dismantled the harmonious balance among living things so?

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

he wakes with a gasp.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

it must be hours later when you approach the gates of castle black. one of the guards on watch takes notice, shaking the other awake. as they both stare down at you, you wonder.

are they close enough to see the mourning that rests forefront on your face? were they the same men who opened the gate for you upon your return last night, only to do the same thing minutes later after you found jon? do they feel guilty? should you?

the wooden gates protest opening, loud creaks and groans as it gives you access, and at first, you don’t see it.

at first, you walk in, and your gaze is trapped on the ground, lost in thought. you’ve come back empty handed, as you came back to jon — or rather, his body. but you don’t think anyone was expecting a stag draped across your shoulders. amidst the unexpected.

when you finally do look up, you’re startled for the ? time today. four men hang in the middle of the courtyard.

you stop in your tracks, but this time, ghost pads on ahead of you. he stops not for anybody, curving them all to fair left. the direction to jon’s chambers.

you don’t have long to dwell on the wolfs mistake, as peoples eyes find your frozen figure. among them, friends; edd, grenn, pyp, others you don’t recognize. some, not dressed in black. wildlings. you begin to walk forward, and a tall, ginger bearded figure spots you. tormund walks to meet you, an expression on his face unreadable — unable to be identified by your tired eyes.

confusion — surprise — apprehension — curiosity; all fight for their seat at the forefront of your mind, but they’re forced to share.

as you and tormund find each other, you glance past him at the hanging men. then to your left, expecting to see ghost still scratching at jon’s door — but he’s not there. was he shooed off? did you misread his intention?

“I don’t— what’s…” you start, but don’t finish. how could you even begin?

tormund reaches for you, hands settling on your biceps. whether he’s keeping you in place or checking for injury, you don’t think you care. the weight and warmth of the gesture is welcomed.

“Tormund, you’re scaring me—” your admission wouldn’t usually come so easy, but you can’t be bothered to guard yourself. you’re exhausted, your muscles are stiff, you’re confused, and you hurt.

he only turns you toward jon’s chambers, pointing, a hand on the small of your back. “In there, little bird.” he says, and you wish to tell him what a help he is. but you don’t. for some reason, you bite your tongue, sparing a last glance at him, before slowly making your way over.

all of the eyes on you make you nervous, and frustrate you all the same. why do they all act like they’ve seen the father?

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the door, curiosity guiding your step. you see ghosts muddied paw prints on the wood, but they don’t turn left or right — ending at the chamber door. your brows furrow almost instinctively. you can’t help but linger on the thought, setting your bow & arrows to lay nearby; your shoulders welcome the reprieve. with bated breaths, you push on the wood, stepping inside. what you find is beyond even your wildest imaginations.

what you find is jon’s head turning to look at you, and you can’t help the sharp inhale of air you take.

his bottom half is clothed, but his upper is uncovered, torso wrapped in bandages; covering the stab wounds that you know took his life.

you think him a hallucination, mind willing his fate to change so desperately it has conjured up its own delusion. but you glance to ghost, dutifully curled by his feet, and shift to turn, looking at the paw prints that led you here.

you turn back to (jon?), closing the door behind you. while your own flickers to ghost once more (an affirmation), jon’s gaze remains fixed on you. you inch closer, surveying him.

his eyes, now encasing life — not quite the same as you knew, but life nonetheless. lips, parted, as to suck in air to fill his lungs. lungs that in return, work in correspondence with his heart, beating to keep him alive.

no. this can’t be…

but it is.

he’s rigid — uncomfortable, yet a part of him fights to relax in your presence. how can it all be so unbalanced and so right all at once? you’re here. you’re all he’s ever wanted. but a part of him keeps him withdrawn, fighting him on reaching out for you.

perhaps it’s the horrid crawl of his skin, urging him avert his gaze as you approach. even so, he can't help but seek your gentle stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. you see it as you close in — the turmoil within himself.

a different part of him wins, and he reaches for you. you’ve been waiting, it seems, and reach for him with equal fervor. his hands are cold on your waist, strikingly so. your eyes widen, disbelief written on you like ink on parchment.

you had not expected to feel him. no, you expected for him to vanish underneath your very fingertips.

one of your hands find the bare skin of his torso, experimentally reaching out. jon is hungry for your touch, offering any part of himself for your taking. he has craved you desperately ever since he awoke.

he watches, patient as you register the warmth underneath your hand. there’s blood circulating through his veins. your pupils blow wide in the realization.

you’re anxious for more assurance, your right hand moving to his forearm to keep him in place (jon wouldn’t dare to move), as your left finds his chest. specifically — the part of his chest that keeps safe his heart. you feel it beat underneath your palm, and your reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut.

if he didn’t want to be touched, jon would’ve shied away from you by now. but he hasn’t. no, his eyes bore into you with the attention only divine beings receive

jons breathing heavies in anticipation, expectant. he gauges every ounce of your reaction, waiting for your evaluation of him — as a sinner would their god. is he worthy? do you deem him so?

when your eyes open, something clicks into place. jon is here, in the now, alive and breathing; your fingertips said so themselves. you don’t know how, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much in the present, not when you finally have him in your hold once more. what you would’ve given for this, hours ago in your tree. what wouldn’t you have given?

and now, your eyes roam over every part of him, drinking in all that you can. your gaze trails fast, mapping the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms, to his torso, across his bandages again.

your hand removes itself from his chest, only momentarily, but jon chases your touch all the same. you can’t bear to leave him wanting, sliding a hand up his shoulder, feeling the lithe muscle beneath it. you’re desperate to ground the feeling of him, to commit it to memory — and jon seems equal in his need.

you hand stops it’s ascent when it reaches his neck, cradling the juncture of it, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, as you meet his gaze. your touch is warm and soft and tender, and in an instant, his eyes are watery. the hands on your waist tremble, and his breaths turn shaky in an attempt to hold himself together. his brows pull together, and his breath hitches violently in his chest. something stirs in you at the sight, the expressions of a broken man.

jon has passed your test of realism with flying colors, and when he realizes, he crumbles.

his head falls to the crook of your neck, closing the small distance between you. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and jon’s immediate in pulling you closer — as close as you can get. the tears begin their flow easily, releasing the buildup of emotions harbored from death snaring & absolving him; akin to poison swallowed and retched before fully digested.

your touch is gentle, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back. he leans himself into you, almost helplessly so, as if he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. you accept his weight with open arms. if jon was asked why he fights so desperately, even in times it seems hopeless, he would say to repay the gods for their gift to him; you.

the only things that disrupt the steady quiet that surrounds you are his silent sobs, accompanied by the small soundless gasps that flow from his lips as a river of melancholy.

his grip is tight; he drowns in a vast sea of agony, and you alone are his anchor.

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Reader Forbidden Love (fem)

Poll story!

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, unhappy marriage, cheating, p in v, unprotected sex, angst

1.9k word count

💔

.

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At 2 am you wake up and head into the shower. Today is your last day home before your seven-month deployment and you hate to admit you’ve been looking forward to it. While other soldiers might love their time home, you don’t. It’s all stagnant, the same mundane life you try to run from. You step out of the shower to see your husband, Jon, standing there brushing his teeth. He looks over at you and smiles.

In an attempt to hide your body you snatch your towel off the hook and wrap it around yourself, giving your husband a weak smile in return. You quickly walk past him into the bedroom, gathering your uniform while leaving behind a trail of water. Jon pokes his head into the bedroom to watch you, assuming your attitude is just nerves.

“Jon, can I get some privacy?” You say stomping over to close the door in his face.

Once you're dressed and your hair pulled back in a bun, you go to the kitchen with your bags. Jon sits there smiling weakly at you while he watches you sit to lace up your boots. He hates to see you go, being your highschool sweetheart, he’s never spent time away from you before you joined KorTac.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

You stand and so does he. His arms wrap around you in a tight hug, making you feel guilty for your lack of feelings. Being forced to marry him from a young age, you feel as if you’ve grown out of him. He was what you needed when leaving your abusive childhood home, but now that you’re stable you realize it was never love; simply survival. Yet, here you stay. There is an odd sense of loyalty, as if you owe him for helping you get to this point.

“I should go.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

The fifteen-hour flight seemed to drag on, putting your feet down on the ground was a welcomed feeling. Out of the corner of your eye you spot König, looking at you through the eye holes in his sniper hood. For a moment the gaze lingers before you turn your head and continue on your way.

It’s the middle of the night as you toss and turn in your cot, unable to sleep. The first night in a new place always gets to you. In the darkness you look over at the woman that is sharing the tent with you, she’s fast asleep. Letting out a deep sigh, you get off of the cot and leave the tent.

The moons brightness is dulled by a cloudy night, a few shining stars peeking through. Tall grass sways in the wind as your eyes roam. Unconsciously you turn and look towards König’s tent before looking away and letting out a deep breath. After a second thought, you walk away and head back to your tent.

König takes a deep drag of his cigarette watching you walk away from his tent with a smirk. He pushes off of the tree and begins to walk towards you, letting a puff of smoke slip from between his lips. His eyes trail over every inch of your body as he approaches you.

“Can’t sleep, Liebling?”

“Jesus Christ!” You jump and turn around when you see him, letting out a small laugh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” König chuckles lightly.

You watch as he tosses the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it before walking closer to you. “I saw you were looking for me.”

“I—”

“I was waiting for you, follow me.”

König grabs your hand and walks you to his tent. While he tries to appear relaxed, his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s been too long since he’s seen you, since he’s been able to taste you. He scans the area to make sure no one sees the two of you together, standing guard as he opens the flap of the tent and lets you in.

You enter his private tent, but before you can say a word König scopes you up into his arm and lifts you up. He pulls his hood off and tosses it to the floor, leaning in to kiss you deeply. He holds you ass cupped in his hands, squeezing the supple flesh as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your lip’s part, accepting his tongue as he carries you to his chair and sits down.

“I’ve missed you.” König says as he pulls back, letting his hands rub circles over your hips and rear.

“I’ve missed you too, König.”

“Why did you ignore me earlier today?”

“There were a lot of people around.”

“Ja? That doesn’t mean we can’t talk.” His hands slip underneath your shirt and begin to touch your warm flesh. “I was a little upset, I won’t lie.”

“I’m sorry.” You move your hands to cup his strong jawline.

“Don’t be sorry. I have you now.”

König lifts your shirt up and pulls it over your head, he begins to kiss your neck down to your cleavage. His hands slowly wrap around your back, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall off your body slowly. He takes a moment to look down at your breasts before leaning in to kiss them, his mouth eagerly finding your hard nipples.

While his mouth suckles at your breasts he continues to undress you, undoing your pants and letting his hands slip underneath the waistband. He stands you up to pull your pants down, his lips leaving your breasts and trails down your abdomen. The strong smell of your wet cunt hits him as he pulls down your black panties.

“You look even better than I remember.” König says as he leans back in the chair and pulls off his shirt, undoing his pants to release himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Since when do we use condoms?” König tilts his head as he stares at you curiously.

“I- like just in case.”

“I don’t have any. I only have sex with you, and you said we won’t use them.” He reaches out and grabs your arm pulling you to him.

You go willingly towards him and straddle his lap. The heat from his erection adiates underneath your lap as you rock your wet pussy back and forth on his length. He’s right. You said no condoms because you wanted children, but now you’re second guessing it. Could you really break up a nearly two-decade long relationship?

“Where’s your mind?” König whispers as he kisses your neck.

“Right here.” You lie.

You adjust yourself and reach between your legs to position his cock right up against your entrance. His lips linger on your neck as he waits for you to lower yourself, his cock throbbing slightly with need. After waiting, you sit down on him; sinking down slowly but completely on his long shaft.

“Oh, fuck y/n.”

König’s hands move down to your hips, assisting you in your bounces. His eyes lower and lock on to your breasts as they jiggle with each little motion you make. The sounds of pleasure that leave him come out in a melody matching your rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You don’t respond as you continue to move, your hands on his shoulders with your nails digging in and leaving red marks behind on his pale skin. All you want to do is focus on how good he feels stretching you out, closing your eyes and just trying to tune his voice out. That is until he grabs your jaw in his massive hand, forcing you to open your eyes and face him.

“I asked, whose pussy is this?” His voice is more of a low growl when he asks the second time.

“Yours.”

The usual blue color of his eyes is replaced by his blown-out pupils, completely lost in the moment with you. “Gut, good girl.” König lowers himself in the chair and leans you forward against his chest as his hands grip you. He thrust up into you, rapidly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gaze back into his eyes as your eyebrows pinch together, your body becoming overwhelmed with the need to orgasm. The sound of your sopping wet pussy swallowing him up radiates in the small space of the tent. König’s body quickly becomes sweaty, his breathing heavy as he tries his best to hold off on his own release until you do.

“König.” You whimper.

“Oh- y/n. I love you fucking pussy.”

“Please, harder.”

König stands, shocking you. Your eyes open wide as he quickly turns and places you on the chair. He grabs the back of the chair and use it to balance himself as he slams into you, watching your face as it slowly crunches up.

“Cum for me, cum on my cock!”

“Fuck!”

You squirm, each thrust of his cock sends a powerful burst of ecstasy throughout your whole body. The begging and whimpers turn into a mumble of nothing as your pussy clenches around his cock. König closes his eyes for a split moment before looking back down at you, pushing himself all the way in causing you to cry out softly. He throbs, releasing deeply in you.

König tilts your face up so he can kiss you, keeping his cock inside of you while he calms down. Every time he cums inside of you, he uses his cock as a plug. In his mind this only ups the chances even though you haven’t been pregnant yet. Yet.

Once you both clean up and get dressed, you reach down to pull your boots back on. He hits on his little nest on the floor, he’s too big for a cot so he works around it. You’re distant, more than usual. It worries him, but he’s trying to act calm.

“Where are you going so quickly? Don’t you want to snuggle?”

“I’m tired.”

“So? Sleep here.”

You look up at him and let out a soft sigh. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We could get caught.”

“So?” König leans forward, not used to this defiance from you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, König.” You snap at him.

His eyes widen, not expecting you to get so angry at him. For a moment he just waits and watches you. He stands and walks to you, grabbing your waist, and pulling you back to sit on his lap on the ground.

“König!” You sound annoyed with him as you try to stand up, but he won’t let you go.

“Please, please talk to me. Don’t act like this after all this time apart.” His voice sounds defeated in that moment. He can’t bear to speak out loud that he’s fearful of you growing tired of him, of this. You’ve become the most important person in his life. Losing you isn’t something he’s ready for.

“I don’t know. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Talk to me. I will try to help.” He’s desperate to not be rejected.

You turn and look at him with a small frown. If only it could be that easy. There are a million thoughts rushing through your mind. Is a future with him even realistic? “Not tonight. We should really sleep.”

Reluctantly, he relaxes his hold on you. Logically he knows that he can’t force you to open up or stay here with him. While he wants to, he can’t. He watches with sad eyes as you stand from his lap without so much as a goodbye kiss.

“I love you, y/n.”

“Me too…” You say softly to König before leaving his tent.

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD men after your break-up with them ?

Price, Ghost, König, Soap, Alejandro, Gaz, Alex

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

P R I C E :

-In a waiting room at the hospital with him baring his ass and you in your white coat, that's how you meet after your break-up.

-"I can't believe we're both at the hospital," John sighs in pain.

-"Yeah, I thought this was the trendy coffee shop. Turns out, my navigation skills are terrible," you joke.

-He lets out a small laugh.

-"So how did you end up with your ass burnt, John ? Did you try some sexy wax ?"you ask while you begin to examine him.

-"Do you really need to ask why something is burn ?"

-"Soap ?" you guess.

-Price nods.

-"Shit, I think you have some third degree burns on the right side."

-"Soap wanted to make a firework on the base, to light up the mood of everyone on the base. He tried to test the fireworks before, and I was there at the wrong moment."Price explains while you help him walk towards the surgery room.

-"It must have hurt like hell. Lay down here on your stomach, I'll call my colleague. His specialty is the burns, so you'll be in good hands. Normally your ass will only have scars on the right side."

-"Guess I have the other half to seduce people then." he jokes.

-You smile.

-"You know you have a great ass, John. Don't worry about that."

-"I know, love."

-You both stare at each other when he said the nickname. It has been eight months since you broke up. It was on mutual agreement, because you had a promotion on your job that didn't let you time for a relationship.

-You gulp and nod.

-You leave the room and ask the help of your colleague and continued your job.

-You tried to ignore the tension you had with John when you were talking. You tried to ignore the image of him smiling.

-Hours later when you have finished your duty, you were walking out of the hospital when you noticed John.

-"Someone of the team picks you up ?" you ask.

-"Yes, but they're late."

-You hesitate to wait with him, after all you had nothing to do. But your mind reminds you it would be a bad idea.

-"How's your job ?" Price asks.

-"I...Fine. In fact I was transferred to another service two months ago. So it's calmer and I don't have many 24h shifts now. And you ?"

-"Still busy."

-You nod.

-"I quit smoking." Price says suddenly.

-You raised your eyebrows. Cigars were like Price's identity. Like Spiderman has his mask, Price has his cigars and hats.

-"Why ?" you ask.

-"I know you hate the smell."

-"Oh."

-"I think we made a mistake back then, I wanted to text you but..." Jon starts.

-"But you get your ass burnt and me seeing your naked ass before you could do it."

-He laughed.

-"Yes."

-"So you think we should give us another chance ?"

-"I'm sure. I mean we always managed to find time for us with my busy schedule, so why would it be a bother if you have one too ? Plus you said you were transferred so I guess your schedule is back to normal ?"

-"Yes,"you say.

-"Do you want this, sweetheart ?" Price asks looking at you in the eyes

-"I..."

-"You ?"

-"I missed you," you admit.

-"Me too."

-"And shit, I didn't know what to do when I saw you again, but I'm sure I don't want to give up when eight months later you still make me flustered by just a look."

-John smiles.

-"Then we have another chance."

-You nodded.

-"Yes we have."

-I guess Soap burnt some ass, but also help to light the fire of love.

G H O S T :

-The rain was falling.

-Soldiers were wearing their uniforms, and the silence was omnipresent.

-Nobody dared to move, to speak. Only the sobbings of a widow were heard.

-It was Thomas' funeral.

-Thomas was one of Ghost's men, but also someone you knew as a friend.

-So when you arrived at the funeral, you saw Simon.

-It has been two years since you saw him. After your break-up it was as if you had imagined Ghost.

-There were no traces of him, not even in your shared flat, or in your phone.

-You didn't know what to do now he was here in front of you, so you stayed back.

-You ignored the pain of loss and bitter you were feeling about him and the situation.

-But then he was next to you. Like a shadow who didn't dare to approach you, too scared to burn himself with your lighting presence.

-"Simon," you decided to whisper.

-"Y/n," he answered.

-It was awkward. You didn't know what to do. You were with him during four years, but it was like you were strangers again.

-"I...Had Thomas said something before he died ?" you asked.

-You knew Ghost was the one who found Thomas' corpse on the mission.

-"He talked about his wife. And ask to protect the kid."

-"...I see,"you whispered.

-He didn't add anything else, so you sighed.

-"And you ?"

-"me ?" Ghost asked.

-"Simon, he was one of your men. You have known Thomas for three years, even though you didn't have a bond with him like Soap, I know you're feeling guilty now."

-"I'm guilty."

-You wanted to slap him.

-"Guilty of what, Simon ? You can't save everyone. You can't just sacrifice yourself to save the ones you love. It doesn't work like this."

-"It worked for you."

-"Are you really bringing this up ?"you whispered angrily.

-"You're happier now."

-"No I'm not. I just have tried to live again without you. Shit, you left without any warnings, without...without telling me. I had to guess you were breaking up with me."

-He stayed silent.

-"Simon, say something."

-"Why did you keep pursuing me ?"

-"Why did you let me to ?"you asked.

-"...I couldn't lose you."

-"But you did."

-"I know. But I had told you not to choose me."

-"But I did."

-He stayed silent.

-"And I will always choose you." you added.

-Simon raised his eyebrows.

-"...I screwed up." Simon whispered.

-"You did."

-"It's too late, now," Simon said.

-"It's never too late to make up for it, Simon."

-"It's been two years," Simon added.

-"But I'm here."

-"You deserve better," Simon said.

-"My tastes are shitty, what can I say ?"

-He smiled under his mask.

-"I don't ask a new romantic relationship with you, Simon. I just want to be in your life. I don't care if it's platonic, romantic or something else. Just, let me be here for you."

-"Even though we end up strangers again ?"

-"Yes."

-"You're stubborn."

-"I learned that from my ex," you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Okay," he whispered

-"Okay," you answered.

The next day he texted you.

K Ö N I G :

(/!/TW,chemo mentionned, Implied panic attack, it's not said clearly but it's clearly implied.)

-You were visiting your grandma when you saw König in the building.

-It was awkward, you both pretended to not have recognized each other but now you were both in the lift.

-Well stuck in the lift.

-Because a lift is not supposed to tremble and let out a ringing.

-"I...I think we can stop pretending we don't know each other since we're stuck for at least two hours now," you said while you sat on the floor.

-"I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry," König whispered quickly.

-"Me too, and when you didn't say anything, I thought it was better to stay silent too."

-He nodded.

-"So...you're here for your grandma ?" he asked.

-"yes."

-"Does she still have chemo or ?"

-"No she's in remission. You remembered that ?" you asked surprised

-"Yes, you talked a lot about it."

-You stayed quiet. One of the reasons for the break-up was your feeling of being alone in this relationship. König was always gone and at home it seems like he didn't listen to you, or avoided you a lot.

-You only talked once about your grandma and it was two years ago.

-"I see" you said

-The silence was awkward. But then you heard König's breath rushed.

-You noticed how his eyes were widen and how hard he gripped his own clothes.

-You know what was coming, so you held his hands like you were used to.

-"König, focus on me."

-"I'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, focus on me and my voice. Everything is okay."

-"We're stuck in an lift. It's not okay. Scheisse."

-"yes it is, I mean it's kinda cozy ?" you tried to joke.

-He snorts.

-"Okay it smells like piss and it's small, but we're alive and breathing." you said.

-"I'm sorry," König said.

-"Don't apologize for being anxious, König. Just focus and breathe slowly."

-You inhale with him slowly.

-He calmed down a bit.

-"I'm sorry," he continued.

-"You don't have to apologize, I told you. It's not your fault the lift is-"

-"Not about this, about us." König said anxiously.

-"Us ?"

-"Yes, I...I was so worried you would leave me if I made a mistake that I ended up to avoid you and, and I couldn't stop and..."

-"And I broke up with you."

-"Yes if had communicated better with you, none of us would be hurt. I'm so sorry." König said, crying.

-"Shh, don't cry. Just focus on my voice and breathe," yousay "Can I ask you a question ?" you asked.

-He nodded.

-" Why are you saying this, now ? It's been three months since we broke up."

-"Because it felt like my last chance. I...I don't believe in fate but being stuck in an lift with you feels like a big coincidence."

-You nodded.

-"yes. I'm sorry too, König. I should have talked before making suppositions. I know you have anxiety, and I didn't consider it."

-"you couldn't have guessed."

-"yes, but I could have waited for you to explain."

-König nodded.

-"Do you feel better ?" you asked.

-"yes, but don't let go my hand, please."

-You nod. You know physical touch helped him a lot.

-"I still have one of your mask at home." you said.

-"I'm sorry I could take it back and-"

-"And my dog refused to let it go. I hide it, but it seems like my dog always finds your mask and sleeps with it like it's a plush."

-König's heart melted. Your dog was a puppy when you started dating him, he helped you with it for two years so of course your dog still feels attached to him.

-"it's cute."

-"I wanted to send you a picture of it, but it didn't feel right. Because I used to do that when we were together. So I didn't know if it was appropriate."

-"It is appropriate." König said, quickly, "I mean, send them please, I miss your dog."

-"okay, I will," you smiled.

-One hour later the lift was fixed, when you came back home you send him a photo of your dog

and...

-One year later, König was on the photo too. Guess your dog and a lift were just what you needed to have another chance.

S O A P :

-Half-naked in a chair.

-That's how you met Soap after your break-up.

-Both of you stared at each other, surprised.

-"I-" you tried to start.

-"I-" he also said.

-"Maybe you can...put your shirt back on ?" you tried.

-"Oh shit, aye. 'm sorry yer colleague says to get ready and..."

-"It's not a striptease club, Soap. She was only talking about your references," you chuckled.

-He smiled.

-You sat on the chair in front of him.

-"Do you still want to do it, even though you know it's me ? I can call a colleague if you prefer."

-"I always have trusted yer art skills. I want ye," He said without hesitation.

-It was true. Back then Soap always supported you when you confessed you wanted to become a tattoo artist.

-"I guess you didn't know who I was. Or perhaps you enjoy being shirtless at your ex's workplace ?" you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Naw, I didnae ken. Plus there's nae picture o' your face on yer Insta. I liked yer work, so I just booked an appointment, I didn't know yer artist name was that," Soap says.

-"yeah" you said. "so, you're here for a cover. I bet you and Gaz made a bet, you were drunk and a creepy tattoo artist accepted to tattoo you ?"

-"Youknow me, well." Soap smiled.

-"How ugly it is ?"

-"I have a portrait of Price on my chest, but it looks like Michael Jackson and under there is written"no pen, no gain.""

-You tried to not laugh.

-"Price ?"

-"It was to show my respect."

-"You can respect someone without having their face tattooed." You laugh.

-"I know, I was drunk and...I regret it. Dae ye think you can do something ?"

-"Well now, I need to look at it."

-"Ye said it was not a striptease club."

-"Guess I was wrong."

-He laughed and put off his shirt.

-You looked at the horrible piece on his right pectorals.

-"Shit, his teeth are stuck to his noses and one eye is like twice the size of the other,"you noticed.

-"I know."

-"But you're lucky."

-"Why ?"

-"Your terrible tattoo artist use light inks, it's easier to cover than a black and white piece. The more the piece is darker, the more it's difficult to cover it."

-"Okay, so ye can do it ?"

-"I can erase Price and no pen, no gain. Yes. Do you have any ideas about your cover ?"

-"You." Soap said.

-You blinked.

-"smooth, Mac Tavish, really smooth."

-"So it's a yes ?"

-"It's a no for me being the tattoo."

-"But ?" Soap smirked.

-"But yes for a coffee."

-He smiled.

-"but before let's erase Price from your body, I don't want to wake up at your side and see him staring at me."

-Soap laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

(TW /!/, there's some reference about something put in some food)

-You met him in the street at 1 A.M.

-Alejandro had drinks with Los Vaqueros at a bar to celebrate a successful mission. He was going back to his car when he noticed someone who limped.

-He approached this person, maybe they were hurt and...

-"Y/N"

-You looked up.

-Shit.

-"I can explain," you said.

-"Explain why you're limping in a Patrick from Sponge bob in heels ?"

-"...yes ?"

-"Why does it sound like a question ?"

-"Because I don't know, I- It was a friend's birthday and they love Sponge Bob and I saw that on Tik tok. It was fun but..."

-"You sprained your ankle with your heels."

-"yes, but I came on foot."

-Alejandro looked at you.

-"I can drive you."

-"Alejandro, you don't need to. I mean it's already enough awkward and-"

-"I don't want you to hurt yourself, plus it's dangerous for everyone to walk on streets at 1 AM, hurt."

-You knew how Alejandro was serious and stubborn.

-"okay." you said, but Alejandro started to kneel down.

-"Wow, what are you doing ?"

-"Taking off your heels, your ankle is swollen it musts hurt like this."

-You let him do it.

-"I feel like Cinderella," you said.

-"Except you're in Patrick's costume and near to some piss in a street."

-You laughed.

-"I guess you were celebrating." you said pointing at the bar behind you.

-"yes, we finished the mission." he said and quickly looked away.

-This mission.

-The one which made you leave him.

-Alejandro was too absent.

-You tried to accept this, he warned you before you dated but after four years, you couldn't bear it anymore.

-"I see."

-He put your shoes in his backpack and looked at you.

-"I will carry you."

-"You don't need it, Alejandro I can walk." you said while you tried but you only hissed at pain.

-"No, you can't."

-"You can't give me a piggyback ride. You have a backpack and..."

-"Bridal style, it's only the time we reach my car."

-You looked at him hesitant and nodded. Then he carried you. This man didn't have muscles for nothing and you knew it but you were still self-conscious.

-Once you reached his car, he drove to your flat. But when you were supposed to enter to your building, you stayed in the car.

-"Alejandro."

-"Y/N."

-"Thanks for tonight, I know for you it's normal, but not a lot of people would have helped their ex like this."

-"Not a lot of people have amazing exes."

-"You're a smooth talker."

-"I am." He smirked.

-"How's Rudy ?" you asked out of nowhere.

-Alejandro was surprised.

-"Fine, but why do you ask ?"

-"I don't want to go back to my flat."

-"Y/N..."

-"I...I don't know if it's because I'm tired, but shit, I want to cry. Because you met me again like this. But also because I thought I could....I could forget you, but I can't because I know we broke up because of an impulsion. I was upset, yes. Yes you ignored me when I was telling you about your absence. But I never tried to think with you of solutions, I only shouted and I felt bad about it," you said tears in your eyes.

-And Alejandro noticed how your body language was unusual.

-"Did you drink, Y/N ?"

-"No, but I think there was something in the food at the birthday's party," you said.

-"okay, then I'm staying with you to be sure you're okay."

-"thanks. And sorry I shouldn't have vent like this."

-"you're not yourself, it's okay, mi cielo." He said while he carried you at your flat's door then opened it.

-"I missed this," you whispered.

-"Miss what ?"

-"you speaking Spanish. Did you know I subscribe to Duolingo after our first date ?" you said.

-"You never told me that."

-"I wanted to impress you."

-"But you have never spoken Spanish to me."

-"Because I never went more further than unit one on duolingo, I'm shitty at this."

-(sorry if you're fluent or good in Spanish ;)

-He laughed.

-"I could have taught you Spanish." Alejandro smiles while he helped you to remove the pink paint on your face.

-"I never think about it."

-"Because you always want to carry everything." Alejandro whispers.

-"I have to."

-"No."

-"But if I don't, who will ? Nobody will carry me." you answered.

-"I will, I wanted to."

-You stayed quiet.

-"I let the trainings of cadets to Rudy one month ago, I also started some cooperation with another squad so I would have more time."

-"But I broke up with you." you realized.

-"It's okay, you didn't know. I...I wanted to surprise you, but I forgot how much I let you carry for me, how much I relied on you without helping you back."

-Tears were rolling on your cheeks. Alejandro wiped them with his thumbs.

-"I'm sorry, corazon," Alejandro said.

-"Me too."

-"We both need to talk next morning, okay ?"

-"okay" you whispered.

-Then he helped you to go to bed. The next morning he was on your sofa.

-And you talked.

-Maybe some things were unfinished between you.

G A Z :

-You met because Soap is a fanboy.

-Let me explain.

-You and Gaz were high school sweethearts. But after his enlistment you both decided it was better to break up, because with you beginning university and him being in the military you wouldn't have had time for each other.

-And you didn't meet again.

-But years later, Soap invited Gaz and Ghost to a concert.

-Soap had been talking for months about this band he loved.

-He even played the music during missions or on the base.

-He played it to wake everyone up, at one point where Price had banned this music of the base.

-So as a result Gaz and Ghost knew the lyrics and could accompany him to the concert.

-Gaz said 'why not ?' he liked the music.

-But when the concert started, he realized you were the bassist for this band.

-His heart beat faster; the nostalgia was here.

-He knew you played bass, hell he couldn't count how many time he let his head on your lap while you played with a smile.

-"You look like you have seen a ghost." Soap said.

-Ghost snorted. (he only came because he liked the music and because the band's logo was a skull.)

-Gaz gave them a look.

-"You're not funny, but yeah I..I know the bassist."

-Oh boy !

-Gaz should never have told that to Soap.

-Johnny had sparkles in his eyes and was jumping for joy. He begged Gaz to talk to the bodyguards, so they could go to the dressing room and get autographs.

-Gaz tried to explain, but he could barely open his mouth before he found himself standing in front of the guard.

-So when they were in front of the dressing room after the concert, Gaz was sweating. How would you react? It had been years since he saw you. Even though it was on good terms, you both had broken up, he didn't know if you want to meet him again.

-The door opened and...

-"Kyle ?" you asked with a smile.

-Gaz fainted.

-Ghost caught him, and you immediately helped them seat Gaz in a chair in the dressing room.

-"Is he okay ?" you asked Soap.

-"I don't know, it's the first time I've seen him like that. I mean we have seen worst than someone smiling ?" Soap said lost.

-"I'm sorry, it's the stress." Gaz said, "I'm happy to meet you again, Y/N."

-"Yeah, the bodyguard told me you wanted to talk. I was so happy. I mean it's been a while," you smiled.

-"yeah." Gaz answered.

-A silence fell.

-Ghost sighed.

-"Are you both going to let the sexual tension in the room continue or can we know how you both know each other ?" Ghost asked

-You cleared up your throat at the comment.

-"You were high school sweethearts. Our relationship lasted like 2 or 3 years ? But we broke up when Kyle enlisted."

-Soap had a big smirk on his face.

-"Really, high school sweetheart ?" Soap asked

-He was going to tease Gaz on the base about this.

-"Yeah, but it's been awhile. Well, we won't bother you anymore. You played great, and we were just here to congratulate you." Gaz said flustered, he hated to be exposed like this.

-"and to ask if you were free, I mean we love your music and want to know more now we know about your past with Gaz" Soap asked.

-You raised your eyebrows and laughed.

-"Sure, I'm free. I guess you have a lot of embarrassing stories about Gaz."

-"I like you already." Soap smiled.

-Gaz never survived the meeting between you and Soap.

-It was one of his top ten embarrassing moments, after calling Price 'dad' in a meeting with Sheperd.

-But at least he had your number now, years later who knows what could happen.

A L E X :

-You met him at a wedding to arrest him.

-"When we were called for a fight at a wedding, I didn't expect you, Alex. What happened ?" you said while you helped him with his bleeding nose.

-"The bride thought her fiancé who's my friend, was cheating on her with me." Alex said while he furrowed his brows

-"And ?"

-"I wasn't. Leo had coffee on his suit, so I brought him a new one and when she walked on us, she saw him half-naked, and I red-faced because I had run from the shop to the wedding."

-You laughed.

-"She had quite a punch," you said while you looked at his broken nose.

-"Yes, she could compete with Price honestly." Alex sighed.

-You didn't say anything else while your colleagues calmed the bride.

-"I guess you're no longer invited to this wedding anymore," you joked.

-"I guess there won't be a wedding anymore either." he added while he laughed.

-"Do you want to see a doctor, or are you okay ?"

-"I'm okay, it's just nosebleed, nothing I haven't dealt with before."

-"Well I should go now that the situation is fixed."

-"Yeah."

-You began to leave, when he called out your name.

-"Yes ?" you answered.

-"It was...nice to see you again."

-"Yeah"

-"I'll text you once I'm home."

-"Okay."

-You left.

-Alex hurried home as quickly as he could to his home as fast as he can.

-Maybe some things were unfinished, like this wedding.

If you want more COD : COD masterlist

And if you want more of my works in other fandoms : my masterlist

[ceaselessims]

if we're looking at the magnus archives through the lens of addiction parallels, jon's descent is wonderfully done.

and it's almost even more interesting to look at the magnus protocol through the lens of addiction as well.

it's almost as if alice is a recovering addict, she hasn't had a tobacco/cigarettes (read: the horrors) in a while but she still works at the smoke shop (the oiar).

She gets her friend, Sam, a job at the smoke shop too because she's lonely and he needed a job. Except, Sam has started showing interest in the products. He wants to try them. Alice is very adamant that they should not try the products and should just do their jobs.

This works for a while, until Sam gets a new girlfriend. Then, Alice starts to feel the urge to relapse. Suddenly, the cigarettes are calling to her again. And unbeknownst to her, Luke is probably also dabbling in smoking and probably exposing her to it.

It's made even more ironic because as they stock their product and take inventory, almost every single product has a big red warning label saying: THIS SUBSTANCE IS ADDICTIVE AND COULD CAUSE HARM.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Sometimes I truly want to sit into the Elias and Jon's dynamics pre-archives/Season 1 because (nottobepettyaboutpeoplewhoassumesjonautomaticallydislikeseliasfor???) I feel like it informs SO MUCH of how they behave later on. They clearly already have some sort of relationship that's based on both respect, freedom and guidance and, I feel, conversations.

"He's not smoking again, is he?" implies that Elias is not only aware Jon used to be a smoker, but has been at least involved in a periphical manner to Jon /stopping/ smoking, and approving of it. (Which, yes, drives me insane. We need so much more jonelias fics where Elias takes,, an active role in helping Jon stop that particular habit)

The fact the very first words that Jon adresses to the tape recorders are for Elias; that he's already discussed with him the problematic statements at all!

Jon acknowledging that Elias is the most knowledgeable man when it comes to the paranormal, which! again! I see so little people talk about but is a clear expression of Jon recognizing and admiring Elias's skills in his particular domain! AND is possibly the reason why he keeps coming back to him later on (and other people). Elias just! knows his stuff. And possibly he used to share a bit more with Jon :').

I don't know, the mere fact that Elias is like "Jon, we got a complain about you" and Jon only snarks "Fine, I'll be more lovely" and it's the end of it is insane to me. I know Elias IS known to be a passive boss, but EVEN SO. The freedom that's given to Jon, all along! Wild and beautiful.

Them flirting over Jon's birthday cake. I can see the scene. Their eyeing each other like they're two seconds away from kissing and everybody else has a moment of "oh, god, please don't, why do you make things uncomfy"

I don't know what this post is actually about, just. Elias and Jon. Getting along. From day one. JON ACTUALLY LIKING AND ADMIRING HIM. Yknow.