phorever
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The family legacy was to die in that suit. His legacy was to live, knowing death would follow him out of the crevices of those metal corners and into the lives of those around him. Those foolish enough to interact, to reach out, to care.
In which Robert reflects on the events leading up to the death of Elliot Connors and faces difficulties in accepting himself as both Mecha Man and Robert Robertson. He trips, stumbles, and struggles to find his footing. His loved ones are there to steady him.
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Curly laughs, encompassing and cordial, and the mood tangibly lightens. The ambience of Swansea’s loud chewing is audible beneath his placation, “I’m kidding, Jim. Just didn’t want anyone leaving the table without having a good laugh, but I guess the joke didn’t fly as good as the Tulpar does, huh?” He pats his shoulder good-naturedly, before giving it a quick grip and shake as his laugh peters out into an amiable chuckle. Jimmy scoffs, but there’s no real heat behind his clouded eyes.
In which Daisuke has the wheel of the dinner conversation, but steers in the wrong direction.
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Kai’s saffron eyes are glazed with unshed tears, threatening to spill under dark, wavering lashes. “Damon?” he tries again, louder, embarrassingly young and boyish in the way it sounds like he’s starved of assurance and validation.
Who are you without your fans, who don’t exist here?
Damon grunts, hard and unbidden where it releases from his chest. His hands tingle, his exhale a beat too sharp so that he feels the urge to cough the bile that rises in his throat out. Out.
He needs to get out.
The snake doesn't bite when the butterfly draws near.
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That’s not who she is. She is not Focalors, she is Furina, and she is sickened by the thought that there will never be anyone who will see her as anything other than the cruel title she bears, will not accept so much as her comfort because they think that she simply cannot give.
"Lady Furina!" Clorinde calls, several paces behind her.
"Just Furina will do," and Furina laughs with all the freedom of a caged bird, clenching at her sleeves and overcome by the cold that breaks through the warmth of her lost comfort. She steadies herself, determined to move forward, forward, forward until all she knows is the ache of her feet and the wind.
Furina finds who sees her.
Recent bookmarks
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“Why are you still asleep?”
Damon mumbles something incoherent under his breath, flat against the plush bed, angling his body to avoid soaking in the fluorescent light peeking through the ceiling. He can almost imagine a harmony of a red-crowned crane beating its wings and the stream nearby, cascading down jagged stone and pebbles. It’s easy to listen with closed eyes.
He should be heading to the dining hall right about now, a few inches away from a timber countertop and a tiny vase stuffed with the fake, rubber petals of a flower, but instead, he’s situated on the lengthy bed in Kai’s dorm with his blazer buttoned half way up and chapped lips doing the one thing you shouldn’t do—sleeping past the morning announcement. There’s nothing to think about. Just patterned, pink wallpaper and an intricate ceiling.
“Hey.” A hand shakes his shoulder as he’s on the verge of falling into a dream.
Or: The first time Kai gets jealous is a few days after the trial.
Bookmarked by phorever
04 Jan 2025
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The thing is, Damon doesn’t really get Kai. The way he clings onto others like a man starved of food, as if unable to bear being ripped away from their orbits for even a second. As if being alone is the worst feeling in the entire world; batter absorbing the smouldering heat as it rises. He talks like he’s something bigger than himself, lines his teeth with sugar and salt until it is enough to make him whole.
(Damon doesn’t get Kai, because where Kai is all saccharine words and soft skin, Damon is anything but; it is the drumming of war that beats behind his lungs. His heart is a bitter, stale thing, and the rot is nestled deep under his skin. He kneads himself out of shattered mirrors, snakes eating their own tails, expired ingredients – softness is irrationality and irrationality is not how he wins. How else, pray tell, could he have built himself up from nothing? How else could he have welded his tongue into a match, a kindling flame, that threatens to burn anything that gets too close?)
In the time following the first trial, Damon and Kai bake a cake.
Bookmarked by phorever
04 Jan 2025
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i'm learning to lose, that's the thing they don't teach you by dazed_confused
Fandoms: Dispatch (Video Game)
16 Nov 2025
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"I had it under control," he says, because apparently he can't help himself.
"I can leave you here if you want." Her voice is even, no edge to it. Just offering.
They both know she won't. They both know he didn't have anything under control.
Or Robert tries his hand at dispatch missions, if only his girlfriend weren't his boss and one of the most powerful women on earth.
Bookmarked by phorever
25 Feb 2026
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A Better Plan by kookie118
Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
15 Mar 2025
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“So bring the dead to her.” Tyrion urged.
There was a moment of silence. Then, Tyrion exhaled and shook his head.
“No. It’s a bad idea.”
Dany raised an eyebrow. “You just proposed it.”
“And I’m immediately rejecting it,”
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.
.
Or one where Tyrion uses his brain and makes a better plan than his recent clever plansBookmarked by phorever
24 Feb 2026
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Afterwards, lying on his apartment floor with his dead dog wrapped in a towel on his chest, Robert hopes it was instant.
Beef is hit by a car. He doesn't make it.
Now with added coma-related trauma and daddy issues.