#dammerbund

[story1ines]

@dammerbund asked: a partner/bystander points it out bluntly: you know they’re in love with you, right? from conrad fisher to belly conklin.

the words hit me like a stone dropped in water, rippling through everything i thought i had under control. you know they’re in love with you, right? taylor had said it so bluntly, like she was commenting on the weather and not tearing open something i’ve kept buried deep for so long. i should have laughed it off, brushed it away like nothing, like some silly observation from someone who didn’t understand. because i have no right to let it sink in — not now, not when i’m days away from promising my life to jeremiah. i told myself a long time ago that i couldn’t keep waiting on conrad, couldn’t keep circling back to something that only ever ended in silence and heartbreak. i told myself i chose differently this time. i chose safe. i chose steady. i chose jeremiah. and yet the second those words were said out loud, i felt it — that sharp pull in my chest, the old wound tearing open like it had just been waiting for the right moment. i hated how familiar it felt. how my body still knew the language of him, every flicker of expression on his face, every shift in his voice. i hated that i knew the difference between when he was lying and when he was holding something back, like i’d memorized a secret only i was cursed to understand. i hated it most because it made me wonder. wonder if maybe it had always been true. wonder if maybe i hadn’t been crazy for all those summers of waiting. and i can’t afford to wonder. not when my heart has to belong to someone else.

so i buried it. shoved it down deep beneath everything else i was supposed to feel — the love, the excitement, the future i promised myself i was ready for. i told myself it didn’t matter what his eyes said, or what someone else thought they saw. because even if it was true… what good would it do me now? what would it change? and still, a part of me burned, because the answer was everything. i forced myself to blink, to pull my face back into something neutral before i finally looked at him. the silence stretched too long, heavy between us. his eyes were on me, waiting, like he already knew what taylor had said and was bracing himself for my reaction. ❝ people… they like to see what they want to see, ❞ i said at last, my voice softer than i expected but steady. ❝ taylor sees history and she spins it into some kind of epic romance, but that’s not reality. we’re not kids at the beach anymore, conrad. things change. we changed. ❞ i shifted my weight, fingers curling at my sides to keep from fidgeting. ❝ i’m marrying jeremiah. that’s what’s real. that’s the choice i made. ❞ the words tasted like iron in my mouth, but i pushed them out anyway, needing to hear them spoken like a fact. i swallowed hard and added, quieter but firmer, ❝ whatever she thinks she sees between us, she’s wrong. i’m not that girl anymore, and you’re not that boy. ❞ the words were supposed to close the door, to make it final, but even as i said them i felt the weight of his gaze, and it unsettled me. it always had.

[sunsdragon]

@dammerbund / 'Young Griff' — Storm's End (302 AC)

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢’𝙨 𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙟𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝. The air smelled musty of wet stone and fresh death, and the wind screamed between my ears as I stepped ashore from a vessel with a proud House Martell crest. Salt clung to my skin adamantly, like back home in Sunspear, with my flowing orange cloak dragging behind me. Dark grey clouds towered overhead — I'd never witnessed the Stormlands any different, a truly miserable place. Kings bragged that this castle, on the northern coast of Shipbreaker Bay, had never fallen. Well, now it had.

Aegon's banner hung from the battlements, a roaring golden dragon placed on white. Neither of us belonged here. I observed the silent town as I was escorted by attentive soldiers of the Golden Company, rigid and watchful, passing through crowds of wounded. Conquest has no room for joy I reminded myself, doing my best to block out the dead. Revenge was many years in the making... We were doing this for every life that was lost under the command of barbaric pretenders.

They let me pass through the gates without a word, just a flicker of recognition. Some of them called me 'Princess' now. Some still called me 'Naela'. Most didn't care who I was, only that I walked restlessly and wore a spear carved in Valyria. My rugged boots echoed up the path towards the keep. The higher I climbed, the more the wind started to sound like a voice. Daenerys Stormborn. You're one of us. My blood. My expressions tightened as I attempted to shake my own betrayal. Somehow, when I finally reached the hall, it was far colder than the harsh breeze outside.

❛❛ 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧, ❜❜ I spat, circling the long oak table covered in maps until I was beside him. Aegon's armour was still bloodied and uneasy. He looked older already — this campaign had aged him, no longer a sweet boy. Those sharp purple eyes had seen things unforgettable. ❛❛ 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙡. ❜❜ I was furious, evident from my firm jaw and clenched fists. Furious not because my brother had come here to clash swords, but because I hadn't been informed.

[stormbcrn]

"I CANNOT PRETEND that your crown holds no threat to my own," Daenerys began, lilac eyes rising to meet Robb Stark's. Rumors of his victories against the Lannisters traveled on coastal wind. Through sailors and traders and drunkards alike, tales of the Young Wolf found the dragon queen's ear long before he appeared before her court. "But we share at least one common goal – to return home. Peace has been made on less, I'm sure."

@dammerbund, for robb / sc. 💜

[infinit8worlds]

i move through the house like it’s made of glass, every step slow and careful, pausing at each doorway just to listen — to make sure no one’s awake, no footsteps on the stairs, no shift from my mom’s room. my heart is pounding so loudly it feels impossible that no one else can hear it. i hold my breath as i ease the front door open, wincing at the tiny click it makes, then slip out and close it behind me with both hands, palms flat, like i can smooth the sound away. the second the night air hits my skin, my whole body loosens, and i let out a breath i didn’t even realize i was holding. it’s quiet outside, the kind of quiet that feels like it’s waiting for something. i take a few steps down the porch, and when i look up, i see it — the familiar shape of his jeep parked at the edge of the driveway, headlights low, engine humming softly. and then there he is, @dammerbund, leaning out the open window like he’s been watching the door the whole time, like he knew i’d come out. something warm and nervous twists inside me, and the words fall out before i can stop them: ❝ i can’t believe you’re really here… i kept telling myself i was imagining it, that you wouldn’t actually come. but you’re here. you’re really here. ❞ and the way he looks at me — soft, almost relieved — makes the whole world feel suddenly, impossibly right.

[appasionato]

@dammerbund

there   is   a   sundering  ,       cracks  in  his  armor  that  reveal  a  pitiful  truth .   his  eyes  had  tracked  belly  for  the  entirety  of  a  night  while  flames  danced  across  the  beach   (   who  is  she  talking to ?   )   and  in  the  days  that  followed,   conrad  recklessly  shadowed  her  date.  she  isn’t  his,   but  they  still  belong  to  each  other.   every  summer  has  held  that  promise.   carnival  games,   bottomless  sundaes,   loving  pranks  and  quiet  understanding  create  the  map  of  their  lives.   this  new  region  feels  uncharacteristically  desolate.   conrad  watches  her  bounce  into  the  kitchen  now ,   and  his  mind  reaches  conclusions  so  effortlessly,   destructively   …   she  is  not  bright  because  of  your  proximity,   but  because  she  adores  something  new.  

surrender  to  this with caution.                 . . .      it’s  hideous.

no  words  are  exchanged  as  a  slice  of  bread  pops  from  the  toaster  ,   shooting  to  the  sky.     the  silence  between  them  is  consuming ,   the  glide  of  a  knife  spreading  butter  deafening.   every  syllable  he  dares  to  speak  feels  like  stepping  on  a  landmine.   conrad  slowly  unravels  the  calm.   his  gaze  finds  her  in  the  gorgeous  morning  light  and  as his heart opens,   he is filled with something sacred.   “   do  you  like  him?   ”

[infinit8worlds]

dammerbund asked: just be yourself, belly. that's all i want.

sometimes i think that night at the motel changed everything. not the way things ended, but the way they felt. it’s like the air between us shifted — heavier somehow, full of everything he wasn’t saying. i remember standing there, my heart still caught somewhere between last night and that morning, between the way he’d kissed me and the way he was looking at me now — like it had all been a mistake he couldn’t wait to undo. and then morning came. and it was like it never happened. he wouldn’t meet my eyes. wouldn’t even stand close enough for our shoulders to touch. when he spoke, his voice was low and tired, like he was already halfway gone. whatever i said last night, i didn’t mean it, he told me. and i remember every syllable, how careful he was, how final. then he handed me the necklace. the one i thought meant something. his fingers brushed mine for a second — cold, brief — and i remember thinking, this is it. this is the moment he lets go for good. i wanted to ask him why. i wanted to make him look at me and tell me it was a lie, that he didn’t mean it. but i couldn’t. i just nodded. i let him go. and i think something in me broke that morning — not loudly, not all at once, but quietly, in the kind of way you don’t notice until it’s too late. so now, when he says things like just be yourself, belly. that’s all i want, i don’t know how to believe him. because i was myself once. completely. and he turned away.

i stare at him for a long moment, the words sitting heavy in the space between us. my voice comes out quieter than i mean for it to. ❝ be myself? ❞ i repeat. ❝ that’s what you want? ❞ he doesn’t answer — he just watches me, waiting, like he’s not sure what i’ll say next. ❝ the last time i was myself with you, you said you didn’t mean it, ❞ i whisper. ❝ you gave the necklace back, remember? you couldn’t even look at me. i stood there trying to understand how everything could change overnight, how something that felt so real could mean nothing to you the next morning. ❞ i take a small step closer, my hands trembling. ❝ so don’t tell me to just be myself, conrad. because being myself means loving you. it means remembering that morning, and the way my heart broke when you said those words. ❞ my throat tightens, but i keep my eyes on him. ❝ you say that’s all you want — for me to be myself — but i don’t think you really do. because the truth is, this is me. and i still love you. even when i don’t want to. ❞

[maidofmight]

Gotham's warehouse district had been violently shredded. Steel supports were twisted like pretzels with shipping containers hanging over the dock. Kara's arrival was far too late — Red Hood had already been beaten and bruised in a battle against the formidable Mongul. He was on the floor about to take a killing blow from the towering beast when a white blur tumbled into the aggressor like a missile. Mongul flew through a wall and left behind a smug Kryptonian pup in the crater, a cheeky wagging tail showing his excitement. Kara landed seconds later, her cape fluttering in the smoke. ❛❛ Yikes! Looks like you need our help, ❜❜ she grinned, knowing it would be tough for him to admit that he wasn't perfectly capable alone. Her voice was far too chipper given the situation they'd landed in. ❛❛ Get on your feet before our, uh, friend comes back for the second round. ❜❜ @dammerbund

[maidofmight]

@dammerbund / Stephanie Brown: Batcave, Gotham City.

LOCATION: some dark, too-serious corner of a Justice League base in Gotham. A borrowed satellite hub. Or maybe a Batcave... Hard to tell, but it had Batman written all over it. Kara Zor-El, still in her red-and-blue suit with the cape bunched behind her head like a pillow, was sprawled upside-down across a velvet black couch that didn't have the comfort for naps. She had a buzzing Kryptonian datapad in one hand, a 'Fundamentals of Thermodynamics' textbook open on her chest & a half-eaten banana hanging by her side. Multitasking, but barely!

She groaned dramatically. ❛❛ Funny... Quantum mechanics is going to be the death of me! ❜❜ Her eyes slid closed just before the datapad hit the stone floor with a soft thud. ❛❛ Ugh. Sun-powered body, zero-powered brain. ❜❜ One eye peaked open lazily, hardly able to see through the darkly lit fortress despite her enhanced vision. ❛❛ Steph, if you don't show up in five seconds... ❜❜ From a nearby console, a robotic voice politely replied: 'Incoming transmission — Stephanie Brown en route'. Finally! Her feet swung to the floor, just reaching. ❛❛ Ask her to bring coffee. Or snacks. Or a defibrillator. Whatever's closer. ❜❜