#konish

[thisismon]

#anawmi

#anawmi is pretty cute and all but <<<#Konish and will always be.

[bootlegbeer]

wait kon said to do homework

ok bye everybody

kon is my crush-san so i have to listen

[mecalledspeed]

kon-ish replied to your post: //And then I cry because I remember that Tommy...

(( me ))

// I can't handle it.

Marvel Boy what are you even doing on the team.

Get out.

-kicks him-

[irredeemablespeedster]

//AND BY THE WAY I JUST LIKED THE THREAD OK

I SHIP IT

LEAVE ME ALONE

I JUST REALLY SHIP IT OK

[boyofsteelkon-blog]

[notaridinghood]

All That Remains

People used to tease Jason about how much of a paranoid bastard he is, but now he's glad for it. He's absolutely fucking euphoric that he kept a bag with supplies in it at all times, that he stored ammo and non-perishables and medicals supplies in dozens of hidey holes all around Gotham. He's always been ready to run, to fight, just in case the Batman decided that he had had enough of the Red Hood's residence in his city, and chased him out.

Jason's not entirely sure what caused the apparent zombie apocalypse, and for the most part he doesn't care. He wants to put a bullet in the head of whatever person or thing it was that started it all, but beyond that, he just wants to survive. He's been on his own since the world fell to shit, protecting as many innocents as he can find still alive, tucking children and finding men and women to protect them, giving them tips for survival and sharing what extra supplies he has. It's not much, but he wants the world to still be populated when this is all over.

And Jason wants to live. He plans to fight until his last breath if that's what it takes. He's died once, and he's sure as fuck not going to do it again. Not before he's ready, at least, and he's not ready yet. If he can keep himself alive until this damn apocalypse has resolved itself, then he'll be happy, and then maybe he'll be content with sitting down and taking a rest. Until then, he's going to fight, and protect people.

He doesn't know whether anyone else has survived. He hasn't seen hide nor hair of Dick, or Bruce, or Tim, or Damian, or anyone. For all he knows, they're dead or infected. He has to remind himself every day that they're not his family any more, that they abandoned him, that they've always been a threat. It doesn't stop him from worrying, or wondering if one day the zombie he puts a bullet in was his brother, once upon a time.

Most days, Jason just eats and sleeps and runs and fights, and tries not to remember when he fought because it was right, not because he needed to do it to survive. He tries not to remember his childhood on the streets, and how this is so similar. He tries not to think of his family, and he tries not to hope that they lived. He never admits to himself that if they were dead, his life was empty. That all he had left was his determination to keep going.

Jason soldiers on because that's all there is remaining for him. He can't stop, not even for a second, because when he stops and thinks about what's happened, he remembers that his life is over, that everything he has ever cared about has descended into rotting, shambling hell, and that he might as well lay down and die. Jason keeps fighting, and helping people, and fighting down the inevitable, oh-so-human hope that one day, things will be better.

[damian-waynes-blog]

A Trench Is Dug (Within Our Hearts)

"We're gonna die, aren't we?"

"Yes. But you knew that already," he said, and turned to stare at the dying flames, prodding the brittle wood with his toe. 

"Well, sure," Kon replied, still staring at Damian. "But it's just sorta... hitting me now, I guess. And it's scary, y'know?" There was a nervousness to the way he spoke, which caught Damian's attention. He sat up and met Kon's gaze.

"Yes, it is," he stated, eyes unblinking and body eerily still. He opened his mouth to speak but all he did was breathe and look back down.

"You're not scared," Kon said, less of a question and more of a statement. Damian shrugged again, then stood up and moved to sit closer. Their shoulders connected and stayed that way, Damian's foot sliding over to bump Kon's.

"I am frightened, just not of death." He ran a hand through the mop of hair atop his head and murmured, "To die would be an awfully big adventure."

Kon blinked in surprise and a soft smile lit up his features. "Yeah, yeah I guess it would." He slumped forward slightly in fatigue and let his eyes slip shut. "Sooo if you're not afraid of death... what scares you?"

Damian shifted in his seat and rubbed his eyes. "The world, what that disease can do, losing..." He glanced over and stared at Kon, eyes glazing over as he lost himself in memories. "Losing my sanity," he finished finally, snapping back to the present. He realized with a gentle blush that as of now he wanted nothing more than to rest his head on Kon's shoulder and fall asleep for eternity. 

"Fair enough," he laughed, raspy and hollow. Silence befell them, as it so often did, and neither of them said a word until Kon poked Damian's knee and muttered, "Hey, you should get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

Damian looked over and saw the large bags beneath his friend's eyes. "I'm not tired, you go ahead. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"You sure?" Kon looked genuinely concerned, and Damian forced a laugh and nodded.

"Yes, go. You look awful," he added with a smirk. Kon shook his head, grinning, and stood up.

"'Kay. But seriously, wake me up if ya get tired or whatever." He gave Damian one last affectionate smile before walking away, one hand lightly brushing the top of his head as he left.

"Goodnight," he said barely above a whisper, watching as Kon disappeared beyond the light of the fire and into the shadows. Turning back he sat and watched and waited until the flames finally flickered out, darkness consuming him once again.

[notaridinghood]

Porn Prompt for kon-ish: Scatophilia (dirty talk over the phone)

((wOOPS I GAVE UP AND COULDn'T DO IT

JASON WAS LIKE 'LOL NO NOT GONNA HAPPEN SORRY' AND I CAN'T WRITE KON

SO))

Kon picks up on the second ring, and says "Hello?" like he raced for the phone.

"Hey, Kon," Jason drawls, dragging out his vowels. "Having a good night?"

"Sure," says Kon. "So are you, 'pparently. How much did y’drink? You sound drunk as hell."

"I'm not drunk, actually," Jason says. "Just bored out of my skull. You? Out on patrol, kicking ass and taking names, and all that shit?"

"Nah, havin' a night in for once."

Jason snorts. "I wish I could have a night in."

The sound of rustling cloth comes over the line. "You live in Gotham, man, 's not like there's no other vigilantes."

"Whatever." Jason thinks for a moment, and then smirks. "What are you wearing?"

Something thumps on the other end of the line, and Jason thinks that Kon just dropped something, or tripped. "What?" he demands, and Jason repeats his question.

"What the fuck," Kon says. "No."

"I'm all alone," Jason says, his smirk practically audible. "Standing on a rooftop. No helmet tonight, just a domino and my jacket."

"Jason."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright, I was just teasing."

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. Go bug someone else."

Jason sighs. "Fine. Later, kid."

"Later, loser."