#time won’t fly (it’s like i’m paralyzed by it) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chocor0se · 1 month

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excerpt from my reverse robins tim-centric au where tim dies and stephanie tries to kill the joker (it doesn’t work out)

Bruce couldn’t help it as he fell on his hands and knees, pain surging through his body. He needed to get to the Joker before he could recover, Tim would want him to focus on the mission.

He could barely move though, the paralyzation drug was still exiting his body. Bruce tried moving his hand so he could reach for his com and ask for backup(begrudgingly), when Spoiler came down from the previously broken skylight of the abandoned warehouse.

“Spoiler,” He said, voice raggedy, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Steph didn’t answer, her eyes focused on the Joker’s body as he slowly raised himself up. Shit, Bruce had to get to the Joker fast.

Bruce willed himself to his feet as Steph stared down at the Joker’s smiling face, and that’s when he saw what was in her hand. A gun.

“Spoiler, what are you doing?” He was ignored, again.

Steph slowly lifted the gun, preparing to shoot. The Joker grinned,

“Well well well, looks like one of your little bats has a screw loose, just like me!” The Joker could barely move, he was still on his knees and yet he smiled like he was the one in control here. “Well, do it Spoiler. Shoot me.”

Stephanie’s gaze turned violent, “You..you killed him. You killed my best friend,”

The Joker laughed at her rage, “I honestly expected better than the fight he put off, I guess the little bat was never really good at flying was he?”

“Shut up, shut up!” Spoiler yelled at him, “You killed him, so I’m returning the favor!” She released the safety.

“Spoiler!”

Bruce watched helplessly, his body still-though he didn’t know if it was from the drug or the shock-as he saw Steph aim, and fire.

BANG

The shot echoed throughout the building like a crash of thunder. The Joker staggered as he touched the bullet wound, straight through his right thigh. Even from a distance Bruce saw Steph’s shaking hands.

“Ha! Hahahahahah! I guess even you don’t have the guts to do it, kid,” The Joker giggled, “But seriously, what a show! The way you were so determined to kill me, and you don’t even-“

Black Bat appeared behind him suddenly, knocking the Joker out and handcuffing him. Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Cass walked up to Bruce, putting his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. He looked over to Spoiler, but she was gone.

The two bats looked at each other, then the Joker. The GCPD would take care of him, they had a bat to catch.

It took about an hour and a half, but they found her on a rooftop a few streets away. Barely anyone lived in the area, and even less worked there at night.

Steph was sitting on the ledge, her legs dangling over the roof. Her mask and hood were off, revealing the fragile girl underneath.

“Let me guess,” She said, as they had made their presence on the roof clear, “A lecture on why I have to keep the mask on at all times to protect my identity plus one about why we don’t kill?”

Bruce didn’t respond, he didn’t really know how to.

Cass did.

She walked up and sat on the ledge as well, pulling Steph in for a hug.

“Hugs make everyone feel better.”

“Not me.”

“…”

“..Maybe a little.”

Bruce walked closer to his two girls, placing a hand on Steph’s shoulder.

“I,” Steph started, “I wanted to kill him so bad. I was so ready to shoot him in the head, let him burn in hell. But Tim’s stupid voice kept ringing in my head,” She wiped her eyes with a broken smile on her face, “Bats don’t kill. Killing isn’t the right way to do things. He always followed the rules that he thought were right.”

Steph stood up, shrugging Cass away. She was trying not to cry, but tears kept spilling out of her eyes, “Why couldn’t I do it? He killed my best friend, I should’ve done it. I-I-“

Listen Bruce, I’m saying this because I’m dead now, so you won’t have me to help you with this. Please don’t close yourself off. People need you. Your…our family needs you. Don’t be the cold, emotionless Batman or the violent, angry one.

Be the one who took in Duke Thomas after his parents were jokerized, the one who took in Damian, and Steph and Cass and however more kids you’re gonna gain in the future. Please, Dad. I love you, meeting everyone was the best thing that ever happened to me. Goodbye.

Bruce took off his cowl, interrupting Steph’s sentence. And finally, he let himself cry with her. He saw Steph’s shock as the tears started dripping down his face. Tim’s death had broke him, but he would put himself back together for the ones that had broke alongside him.

He could see Steph’s walls break down, and she started bawling. Her face red as she screamed and cried and all Bruce could do was pull her in for a hug, and that was enough for now.

Cass joined them seconds later, her crying less violent but still noticeable. The three broken bats stayed like that for a while, just themselves and their tears accompanying them.

Later Steph would tell Bruce that she couldn’t be Spoiler anymore.

“I made Spoiler with him,” she would say, “And without him I don’t know if I could do it again. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ll still be a vigilante. Tim wouldn’t want me to quit because of him.”

“Then who will you be?” Bruce would ask her.

“…My favorite color’s purple, that’s why my costume’s purple. His favorite color was red.” She’d take a deep breath before continuing, “I’m going to become the Red Hood.”

Bruce would stay quiet a few seconds before replying, “Alright then. I will support you in whatever you need.”

And that’s how the Red Hood was born.

…

Far, far away, Timothy Drake-Wayne would kill his first person, and he would never be the same again.

#could be interpreted as timsteph #but i probably won’t write it intended that way #this is actually all i’ve written…#tim drake #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #dc joker #reverse robins #reverse robins au #batfam #writing #fanfiction #robin #batman #red hood stephanie brown

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d4sonthefloor · 18 days

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Nobody talk to me I just realized how fitting All Too Well (10 Minute Version) fits Gale’s relationship with Mystra

Specifically, these parts (but also like the whole song):

“And I know it's long gone, and that magic's not here no more And I might be okay, but l'm not fine at all”

- kinda self explanatory

“And I was thinkin' on the drive down, "Any time now He's gonna say it's love," you never called it what it was”

- how Gale talks about loving Mystra but it’s pretty clear she was using him and don’t feel the same for him

“And there we are again when nobody had to know. You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath. Sacred prayer and we'd swear To remember it all too well.”

- let’s be real, there’s no way Mystra talked about Gale the way Gale talks about her

“Well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, but maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up. Runnin' scared, I was there I remember it all too well and you call me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of bein' honest I'm a crumpled-up piece of paper lyin' here 'cause I remember it all.”

- this bridge really takes me out

- it pretty much sums up how Gale tried to do something Mystra didn’t like even if it was for her and in response she cast him out and basically destroyed him

- it also pretty well shows how she refuses to acknowledge him until she needs him to blow himself up and then when he won’t she summons him just to tell him he has to bring her the crown

“They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind. You said if we had been closer in age, maybe it would've been fine and that made me want to die. The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you.”

- yeah that tracks for the whole he was a young prodigy clearly used (there’s another word that should go here but I’m new to this app and don’t know if I can say it) by Mystra

- also again with the as long as he does what she says everything is fine because it’s all the will of the goddess

“Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still tryin' to find it.”

- Gale still being pretty traumatized throughout the game (for obvious reasons)

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known.”

- fuck you Mystra

“And I was never good at tellin' jokes, but the punch line goes, "I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age"”

- again, fuck you Mystra

“I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight.”

- she ruined him physically with that orb and emotionally in every other way

“Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?”

- we know it ruined Gale but Mystra is clearly doing fine

Like it just perfectly fits his feelings of betrayal but also his need to still seek her approval. It also perfectly fits the way Mystra clearly used him throughout the entire time she knew him and discarded him the moment he did something she didn’t like.

Alright TedTalk over, just needed to get this out into the world.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #listen #I’ve been listening to too much Taylor Swift #and I love song association

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postmodernbeliever · 2 months

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Thoroughfare- Fox Mulder x Female Reader

Chapter Two: Piglet Takes A Plane

^^ rip the gif quality ugh LOL

table of contents <3

if you’d prefer my ao3 | word count: 2,575

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You were not well-acclimated to flying. You’d gone on one trip in your life by plane, and it was from Massachusetts to Disney World; you were five, and your father held your hand the whole ride, and you had not a worry in the world. But now you’re older, bigger, and positively terrified of all the possibilities. Even in taking this job with the FBI, you somehow failed to consider the chance you’d need to travel. All that time spent working in New York got you used to staying in one place because God knows there’s enough crime up there to keep you stationed at home. But now, you need to fly halfway across the country just to start your job. You were a nervous wreck; Fox could see that by how you sat hunched over in your seat, flipping through your copy of the case files like a fugitive, jumping at the fuzzy announcements every time they reminded the gate-goers of their departure times.

“Not a frequent flier, huh?”

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine. I fly all the time, I’m a pro, I’ve got all the tips,” the man attempted to comfort you, but it came out more like teasing. He shifted gears with, “Did you know that you’d have to fly every single day for nearly 10,000 years to get in a plane crash? The likelihood of you dying in a plain old car accident is way higher than the plane going down.”

You frowned in aggravation and grumbled, “Not helping.”

“What will help, then?”

The attendant interjected, her grating voice in the PA system blaring the worst news: “Flight 128, Dulles to Kansas City, will begin boarding now. Groups one and two, please make your way to the gate.”

Fox stood up and took your bag for you, chuckling to himself. When he caught a glimpse of the color leaving your face, he said, “Oh, come on, Piglet, the plane won’t go down! You’re gonna be okay, promise.”

You followed the man towards the front of the gate, where a line of people itching to board stood. The odd nickname rang in your ears like an alarm, panicking you along with the feeling jolting through your arms; you wanted to say something, but the anxiety paralyzing your limbs was much more pressing than your objection. Ignoring the urge, you stood behind Fox so you could watch how he got through- the attendant took his boarding pass, scanned it, and checked his passport photo. He smiled charmingly at the woman, whose eyelashes fluttered as she passed his papers back. Then, he walked through the little turnstile and stood on the other side, giving you an encouraging nod. He mouthed to you: Relax.

You attempted to mirror the ease with which he went about passing through, but as you flashed the lady a nervous grin, you fumbled the things in your hands and dropped your passport. You bent down to grab it and bumped into the man behind you on the way back up. You muttered an apology, and he simply huffed in response.

The attendant stared at your passport photo, which you knew was nearly expired, and she said, “Changed your hair?”

Mortified- and slightly pissed off by her tone- you responded, “Seven years ago.”

She passed your belongings back and you walked through the checkpoint to Fox, but not without bumping into the bars before she unlocked them, yet again making yourself look like an idiot in front of the line. Your partner was biting back the most innocent laugh when you finally passed through. He’d never tell you, but he admired the way your face did the talking- all it took was one look to know how you felt about that woman, and the sheepish color in your cheeks was endearing. You tried to take your duffle from him, but he swung it away and clicked his tongue, so instead you walked onto the jet bridge, and he followed. Every few seconds you looked back to find he was still there, and each time his kind eyes put you at ease. You let out a heavy breath as you reached the plane door., where you were greeted by two flight attendants who looked at your boarding pass and pointed you in the proper direction. You made sure your partner was right behind you and tried not to giggle at the way he had to hunch. You knew he was tall, but inside a plane, he almost towered… or maybe you just thought he did, since you felt relatively small all morning. Attentively, you followed the aisle numbers just above your head down the line until you reached the middle of the cabin. Row 29, you thought to yourself, this is it. You scooted into the window seat and watched Fox push both yours and his luggage into the overhead compartment. You would’ve never imagined he was strong, given the pleasing lankiness of his body, but he didn’t lug or haul- he simply lifted. You turned your attention to the seat before you when he moved to loosen his tie and sit in the aisle seat of the row.

Fox watched as you leaned back against the headrest to settle, taking note of your features. He stole a few glances yesterday when you were filling out paperwork for your transition into the Bureau on his old desk; for the first time, he wished his office wasn’t so dark. He didn’t get much of a chance other than when he offered to walk you to your car at the end of the night, which you gratefully accepted. He thought your car suited you, being compact and black, but with pictures pinned to the inside roof- reserved, understated, hiding things beneath the surface. His analytic brain was so intrigued by you. Here, where the lights weren’t so low, he could see a lot more. Your jaw had less sharpness and more of a curvature, molding your face into something of a heart; your eyelashes were long, and they curled upwards, mirroring your button nose. It had a little bump on the bridge, which he thought might be from long-term glasses-wearing, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes traveled along your plump cheeks, a nervous red, just like your lips; your chin protruded a bit, but not too much, just enough. There was a warm feeling between his lungs, an odd one, but he kept looking at how your chest rose and fell anxiously, and wondered how your face could look serene when you felt anything but.

“Excuse me, you’re in my seat.”

Fox’s head snapped around to see an older woman, gray hair to her shoulders, staring down at him with frustration. You opened your eyes as he muttered, “Oh, sorry. I’ll move over.”

You pulled yourself in tight, tucking your elbows between the armrests stiffly so Fox could scooch over and sit beside you. He smiled at your awkward position and said, “Loosen up Piglet. Everyone is too small for economy, you don’t have to suck it in for me.” You blushed and readjusted, offering him a tight-lipped grin. Another stress you’d had was taking up too much room in the seat, but he didn’t seem to find you did. Fox crossed his own over his chest to give up the armrest. You continued to take long, deep breaths as the seatbelt lights flashed, and when they announced preparation for takeoff. You were doing fine- when Fox started talking about the case, you even paid him half attention. But it all went downhill when the airplane engine began to rev beneath your feet. You tensed up like you were in pain, drawing Fox’s attention away from his ramblings.

“What’s the matter?”

“I told you, I- I don’t like flying,”

“I know you don’t,” Fox spoke softly, “We’re on the wing, you know. I changed our seats last night so we got the wing. It’s the steadiest part during the flight. Nothing to be scared of.”

You looked out the little window by your shoulder, seeing the plane’s wing stretching out for what looked like forever. You couldn’t see the tarmac, only the span of it, white and comforting. Turning back to him, you realized you’d never seen a face so sincere. “You did?”

“No reason to make you suffer, right?”

Just as you went to really smile at him, the plane began rolling- no, hurtling into takeoff. In a fit of fear, you seized the armrest and shut your eyes. You’d had nightmares about plane crashes. You’d refused any trips that were too long by car. Between when he told you about the case yesterday and this morning, you’d imagined every possible disaster and had reached the epitome of paranoia about it. Yet here you were, stuck in the center of your fear. It felt like your ribs were burning up from the inside out.

You felt rough skin against your knuckles and opened your eyes to see a familiar hand on your own. Your gaze trailed up the arm to the face it belonged to.

“I’m right here,” Fox leaned in close, and you saw those golden rings again. They seemed to glow. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

There were so many things you wanted to say, so many worries you wanted to voice, but you couldn’t. The sound of his comfort was a roadblock, and all your reckless thoughts smashed head-first into it, making it impossible to think in the pile-up. Instead, you nodded quickly and flipped your palm up, lacing your fingers with his. Pressing your head hard against the seat and swallowing butterflies that you couldn’t define as nervous or excited, you paid close attention to the way his thumb rubbed slow, deliberate circles into your hand. Through the rattling of the engine and the screaming whistle of the air curling around the wings, you felt his touch grounding you in mid-air. You forced yourself to get lost long enough that the plane was in flight for at least a minute or two before you opened your eyes again.

Humiliated by what a sight you must’ve been, you loosened your deathly grip on Fox’s hand and apologized. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, flexing his palm. “You’re strong. Didn’t hurt me, though.”

As you settled into the seat, you felt the ghost of his thumb on your knuckle. The skin was cold. You thought of how hard his hands were. Oddly warm. Curiosity nearly got the better of you as you saw him looking from the corner of your eye, but you pivoted to something else that bugged you. “Where did Piglet come from?”

“Huh?”

“Piglet. Before, at the gate, you called me Piglet.”

“Oh. That,” Fox giggled. You wondered how a guy could look so boyish and weathered all at once. “I don’t know, you’re just so… fretful.”

“Fretful?”

“Yeah. You worry about everything. Yesterday you were practically pulling hair out over those stupid processing papers. This whole plane thing has been a nightmare for you. I don’t blame you, I can be anxious myself… but it just seems like everything drives you crazy. I can imagine you just stressing out, running all around the woods rambling like Piglet does. Y’know, pacing, complaining, bugging Pooh.”

“Oh, and what, are you Pooh in this scenario?”

Fox feigned offense. “What, am I not carefree and- and honey-loving enough for you?”

“If you’re anybody, you’re Eeyore. Maybe some weird amalgamation of Eeyore and Tigger, since you think you’re so funny.”

“I can’t believe this!” Fox gasped jokingly, splaying his hand over his heart and wincing. “You’re brutal, Piglet. So brutal.”

You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, so you looked down to hide what you could of it. And in a stroke of confidence, you said, “If you’re gonna nickname me, can I at least suggest something?”

Fox craned his neck down playfully, searching for the eye contact that you were purposefully refusing him. You felt your cheeks heating up once again, and he must’ve seen it because his eyes twinkled. “Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Rosaline. Maybe Rosie. Something like that.” “Rosaline? Why?”

When you did raise your head to meet his gaze, there was a genuine look of interest. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pouted in some gentle way, and he rested his chin in his hand like he was a student behind a desk, soaking up every second of a lecture. You blinked, suddenly embarrassed for speaking up. “Like Romeo’s Rosaline. She’s my favorite Shakespeare character. I, uh…”

Fox was fixed on you. When you trailed off, he insisted, “What about her?”

“Well, I had to do a project on her back in middle school. I had to come up with a new end scene, sort of like a “What if Romeo went back to Rosaline in the end?” type of deal. I- I got in her head a little, tried to understand what it must’ve felt like to be left by a lover out of nowhere… I don’t know, I guess I just resonated with her. I always thought she deserved better cards. I do love Romeo and Juliet, but I think how she disappears into their story is almost more tragic than how the play really ends sometimes… a-and after that, I always wished I had her name,” you gushed. As you realized how much you’d spoken, you mumbled, “Sorry. Dorky, I know.”

The agent ogled you like some specimen he’d never seen before. He knew he was making a face, but he couldn’t help it. You were like a curveball, just flying by and catching him off guard every chance you got. You thought about things in a way that made him want to think like you. Before you said anything, he hadn’t remembered who Rosaline was; his extent of knowledge was how hot the actress who played Juliet was in the 1968 adaptation he saw in school. But the way you looked when you explained it somehow made the man feel guilty for ever forgetting her, for just letting her be lost in time like everyone who suffered the whiplash of Romeo and Juliet’s love. For you to resonate with her, you must see yourself in her, and he wanted so desperately to understand why. Somewhere in the part of his brain where he stifles his thoughts, he knew he could never forget her name now- because by doing so, he’d be forgetting you. And that was not something he was prepared for.

Despite the churning in his stomach, Fox slapped on a smirk and joked, “Good job, you just reminded me of how much I hated Shakespeare when I was fourteen.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Well, we’ll see,” he teased, tipping his head back against his headrest and smiling. “Maybe I’ll go for it. But every time you freak out, we’re going straight to Piglet.”

“Yeah, fine… Eeyore.”

“What’d you call me?”

“Nothing!”

You playfully fell silent and turned towards the window, which you swiftly shut because you didn’t want to know how high up the plane was flying. From a seat over, Fox watched you close your eyes and zone out, and he thought to himself that if you happened to fall asleep in your seat, and your head lolled onto his shoulder, that he would let you rest on him, even if it meant holding his pee until landing.

#fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #dana scully #msr #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #domestic fox mulder #soft fox mulder #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #planes #comfort

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rpmemes-galore · 1 year

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all too well, 10 min version : taylor swift ... sentence starters

“I loved you so.”

“The air was cold.”

“You can't get rid of it.”

“It reminds you of innocence.”

“Running scared, I was there.”

“Maybe I asked for too much.”

“Oh, your sweet disposition...”

“Down the stairs, I was there.”

“I remember it all too well, yeah.”

“Maybe we got lost in translation.”

“I can picture it after all these days.”

“I walked through the door with you.”

“'Cause you remember it all too well.”

“I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all.”

“Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it.”

“I left my scarf there, at your sister's house.”

“You lost the one real thing you've ever known.”

“So casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

“And you've still got it in your drawer, even now.”

“But something about it felt like home somehow.”

“'Cause there we are again, on that little town street.”

“'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night.”

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise.”

“Wind in my hair, I was there. I remember it all too well.”

“We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light.”

“I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more.”

“You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me.”

“Maybe this thing was a masterpiece, 'til you tore it all up.”

“I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to.”

“I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it.”

“I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do.”

“You almost ran the red, 'cause you were looking over at me.”

#sentence starters #rp meme #Taylor Swift Lyrics

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feysand-hivemind · 11 days

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WIP Wednesday

A little sneak peek from a member of the hivemind who's chosen to keep their identity a secret for now...

“I came to claim the one I love,” she said quietly, looking at Tamlin. “Stop,” Rhys whispered, but his painter did not hear him. Did not heed his warning. “Oh?” Amarantha said, leaning forward in her throne, her painted nails already starting to dig into the armrests. “I’ve come to claim Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court.” Slowly, Amarantha turned her head to look at Tamlin, seated impassively next to her. He hid it well, but Rhys could feel his terror, his dread. There was no hiding this anymore. When she realized Tamlin wasn’t going to speak, Amarantha then looked for Rhys. People backed out of her line of sight, leaving a clear path right to him. Amarantha was quiet as she said, “You… lied to me.”

#feysand #feyre archeron #time won’t fly (it’s like i’m paralyzed by it)#wip wednesday #sneak peek

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cpericardium · 5 months

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Ok i’ll leave you alone after this, but if you’ve heard most of her old stuff then I’d assume you’ve heard

“And you come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer, with the nerve to adore you.” (Cold As You)

Or “You are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry, never impressed by me acing your tests. All the girls that you run dry have tired lifeless eyes ‘cause you burned them out. (Dear John)

Or perhaps “Time won’t fly it’s like I’m paralyzed by it. I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.” (All Too Well)

Again, you don’t have to like her and I know a lot of people’s main beef with her is that they have to hear her/about her all the time, which i get, I’m annoyed by too. But, is it really worth your energy to be so negative about something that people enjoy?

Taking a break from looking at tar to look at more tar(lor swift). But thank you for showing me I wasn't just missing some truly incredible lyrics and that we're actually reading the same words. Perhaps we're just fundamentally different people with radically different understandings of "good writing"

#ask me anything

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1989tv · 10 months

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time won’t fly it’s like i’m paralyzed by it is like to be my old self again but i’m still trying to find it

#txt

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so-many-fandoms-here · 1 year

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(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, angst

• Warnings: mentions of death

I love you

➳♡➳♡➳♡➳♡➳♡➳♡➳♡➳♡

Levi’s pov

My breath goes heavy as I stare at the battlefield in front of me. The world has turned crimson red due to all the blood and my ears are ringing from all the screams.

Everywhere I look I see corpses and half dead soldiers. I try to focus but I can barely see through the smoke that is everywhere.

As I close my eyes to concentrate on blending out the screams, another one rings through the air. Distorted from pain, but I still recognize her voice.

(Y/n).

I open my eyes again and suddenly the smoke is gone. Everything in front of me is clear to see.

(Y/n), in the big hands of a titan, screams so loud I could swear the earth is shaking. My eyes are glued to her figure and I try to run, to scream, but I can’t. It’s like my body isn’t mine anymore. My legs won’t move and while my mouth hangs open, no sound escapes my throat.

„LEVI!“ Her scream hurts more than every broken bone, every cut, every burn I’ve ever experienced. The love of my life is dying right in front of my eyes. In front of the eyes of the so called „strongest soldier of human kind“.

„LEVI PLEASE!“ She cries for help again, but I’m still paralyzed. As my fate continues to force me, watching my girlfriend die, I feel a wave of regret rolling over me.

My eyes fly open and I gasp for air like I haven’t breathed the whole night. It’s dark and only a few rays of light fighting their way from the moon into my office. Sweat escapes out of every pore and the wind caused by my sudden movements makes me shiver.

It felt so real. The nightmare felt so fucking real. The pain I felt has spilled over to my awaken self and makes it even harder for my, still tired, mind to separate the nightmare from reality.

I can’t get my thoughts straight, all I can think of is (Y/n). The logical part of my brain tells me that she is sleeping peacefully in her bed, but it doesn‘t win agains the desire to see her.

To tell her how much I love her.

I haven’t told her that I love her yet. I never said it. I was afraid, because saying it would make it final. Not that my love isn’t final already, but putting it in words, for everyone to hear, scared me so much all the time.

I thought if she dies, I could make myself believe I never actually loved her, since I’ve never told her, but now I realize what a mistake that was. I don’t want to pretend I didn’t loved her. I want- I need her to hear it from me.

Determined I stand up from my chair, slip out of my boots so I won’t make so much noise, and sneak out of my office door into the halls.

The wood beneath me creaks as I walk towards (Y/n)s room and I can see the moon if I look out of the large window to my left.

I stop in front of her room and at first I just stare at her door. The courage I felt five minutes ago is already gone and I’m left with weak knees and my loud heartbeat.

What the fuck am I doing here? It’s the middle of the night and I’m standing here just to say something to her.

I think about going back, but as soon as I think of my nightmare again, I can feel the same fear seeping trough my bones. Without knocking I push down the door handle and step inside.

(Y/n) is laying in her back, the head slightly turned and her (h/c) hair is tousled over her pillow.

I close the door silently and step closer to her bed. Then I crouch beside it and take a minute to look at her. Since her room is on the opposite side of the building to my room, it is a bit brighter in here and I can see the moon just as good as I could from the windows of the hallways.

„(Y/n)?“ I whisper while petting her head.

„Levi?“, she answers as she slowly opens her eyes. „Is everything okay, dear?“

Tears burn in my eyes as I open my mouth. „I…“ but my voice breaks and I have to wait a second before I can continue.

One sentence, three words, eight letters, and it’s heavier than every box I ever had to carry. It feels like a stone in my throat, my mouth is dry and my tongue is heavy too.

„I love you.“

I start to sob uncontrollably after I finally said it. The taste of the words so sweet, that I want to tell her again. And that’s exactly what I do. Like a mantra I repeat those three words over and over again and soon my voice is muffled because I buried my head into the blanket that covers her body.

Not a billion ,I love you’s could express how much love I feel for that woman.

„Shh“, I hear her, feeling her hand in my hair. „I know Levi, I know. And I love you too. So so much.“ I look up again and my eyes meet hers. She smiles, moves a bit closer to the wall her bed stays next to and pats on the mattress next to her. Still in my work pants and my button down shirt I lay down next to her and let her pull me close to her. „Nightmares?“ I can only nod, but it seems to be enough. „It’s okay“, she whispers, planting a kiss on my forehead.

I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the warmth I feel in my chest.

#fanfiction #attack on titan #aot #x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #Levi Ackerman #attack on titan levi #Levi Ackerman x reader #levi ackerman attack on titan #Angst

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dxncingwithastrxnger · 1 year

Text

1. time won’t fly, it’s like i’m paralyzed by it

A/N: Surprise!!! A brand new story!!! I’ve been so excited about this one but I forced myself not to post about it, akjsxnas. This story is a double love story!!! It focuses on both Melizabeth and Trilance equally. I’m still getting everything planned out, but so far, things are gonna be really fun in this au. I hope you guys enjoy this lil world as much as I do!!! The summary below is for the overall story, not this single chapter, and it’s a really long summary so I’m sorry, lmaooooo

Pairing(s): Slight Meliodas x Elizabeth

Summary: The Boar's Hat's first night in Liones is busy and loud, but there isn't anywhere else Tristan would rather be. Elizabeth mans the bar as she watches her son make new friends. Everything's going perfect until a new customer leaves them both feeling shaken up and unprepared.

Tag(s): Panic attack, I think that’s it for this one, tbh, lemme know if there’s any I should add!!

Song Inspiration: All Too Well By Taylor Swift

Word Count: 4,979

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

"Order up! Two honey salads!"

"Those are for table five, Tristan!"

"I'm on it!" Tristan swings by the bar and grabs the two plates, quickly bringing them over to the right table before making his way to table two across the room, where the ones sat there were asking for refills. He takes their mugs and drops them off at the bar where his mother refills them as he takes already filled mugs to the ones at table four.

It's a busy night at his mother's tavern and there seems to be no end in sight to the steady stream of customers. They're not really sure why it's so busy, but Tristan isn't complaining. The whole place is loud and rowdy, everyone chattering over each other joyfully, and the smell of ale and good food fills the air with a hint of sweat that he doesn't really mind. The energy of the room is contagious and Tristan can't keep the grin off of his face. This is home.

"Hey, kid!" Tristan turns to see a man who was at the bar on his way out. He faces a him and tosses his hand up, flipping a coin in Tristan's direction. "Keep up the good work!" He smiles kindly at the silverette as he turns back around to leave.

"Thank you, sir! Come back soon!" Tristan calls, waving at the man as the door swings shut behind him.

"Tris! Refills!" His mother calls from the bar.

"Oh! Coming!" He quickly pockets the coin and gets back to work, grabbing the refills from his mother and returning them to the correct table.

"Do you guys need anything else?" He asks kindly.

"Oh, do you guys have any good desserts? I'm craving something sweet." A middle-aged woman asks him.

"We do! I personally recommend the spiced berries and cream, it's my absolute favorite." He tells her.

"That sounds wonderful, I'll have some of that if you don't mind." She replies.

"Oh, I don't mind at all! I'll go let our chef know!" He's running off to back to the bar before he even finishes speaking, hearing the people at the table chuckling as he goes.

"Need a spiced berries and cream for table two!" He calls into the kitchen before taking another round of refills to table three.

As he places them on the table, one of the customers there speaks up. "Hey, kid, don't you ever take a break? I feel like I've been watching you run around for hours on end." The man remarks.

"Well, I'm the only server tonight and we're real busy. I don't really mind it, though, honest. I'm used to the work." He responds back with a warm smile.

"Okay, but still. You gotta at least eat sometime."

"Yeah, why don't you come sit and eat with us? Get off your feet for a little?"

"Hell yeah, come have a drink, you've earned it!"

Tristan looks at the four people in surprise for a moment. "Oh, I, uh..." It's the kind of thing that doesn't usually happen. He's made plenty of friends in the past, but it's been awhile and he feels excited at the prospect of possibly making new ones. But he's not sure if he can take the time away from his work at the tavern right now. "Let me go check in and I'll see what I can do." He says, turning on his heels and heading over to the bar.

"Are you making some new friends over there, sweetheart?" His mother asks as she pulls some more ale down.

"I think so. They offered me a spot at their table, said I should take a break and have something to eat." He says, leaning against the bar and looking at her hopefully. "Do you think I could? Just for a little while?"

She looks at him and chuckles at the sparkle in his eyes. "Yes, of course. Most people have their food already and I think I can handle all the refills for now. Go have some fun, Tristan, you've done plenty tonight." She nods her head at him.

Tristan beams. "Thank you so much! Come and get me if you get overwhelmed, you know I'll have no problem picking things back up again." He tells her sincerely.

"I know, don't worry. I'll tag you back in if it's necessary. Now go get some food, I'm sure there's already some plated up for you." She hands him a mug of ale and shoos him off.

He hums softly to himself and steps over by the kitchen. Before he even opens his mouth to speak, a plate of food is being handed to him. "About time you sat down to eat, Tanny, jeez."

Tristan gives his Aunt Veronica a sheepish grin. "There's always more work to be done."

She rolls her eyes at him but she's smiling fondly. "Hurry up and go eat before I smack you upside the head." She quips.

He laughs and takes his food and drink and goes back to the table he had been at previously. "That invitation still up?" He asks, hesitating only slightly.

"Hey, he's back!"

"Of course it is, come sit!" Tristan smiles brightly, taking the fifth stool at the table and joining the group of four. He digs into his food immediately, not realizing how hungry he is until the first bite hits his tongue. Okay, maybe I should've stopped to eat awhile ago. He admits.

A few bites in, the man directly across from him speaks up. "So, how'd you end up working at a place like this, uh..." He trails off, gesturing to Tristan.

"Oh! I'm Tristan! And I don't just work here, I live here, actually. The Boar's Hat is my mother's tavern." He informs them.

"Wait, your mother? Where's she at?" The woman to his right asks curiously.

Tristan chuckles and points to his mother with his fork, who's currently serving refills a few tables over. "She's not just any old bartender. She's the owner, too." He says. The man across from him does a doubletake while the rest of the table gives surprised glances at the woman across the room.

"Waitwaitwait, you're telling me hottie bartender over there is your mom!?" Tristan chokes on his next bite at the comment and one of the others beside him thumps him on the back a few times.

"Howzer! You can't say something like that to her own son!" The other woman on his left scolds the guy - Howzer - as Tristan catches his breath, the tips of his ears pink.

Howzer gives him a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, man. It just surprised me, that's all."

"I-it's fine." He takes a swig of his drink. "It's nowhere near the worst I've heard." He admits. Everyone else at the table cringes in response.

"Yeah, don't mind Howzer, here. He just has trouble thinking things through before he speaks, but he really doesn't mean any harm." The woman on his right tells him. "I'm Guila. This here is Gilthunder and Jericho." She introduces everyone, pointing to the pink-haired man sitting between herself and Howzer and then to the lavender-haired woman on his left.

Tristan reaches out to shake each of their hands. "It's lovely to meet you all. Maybe you'll be my first friends here in Liones."

"Oh yeah, you guys just showed up here. Are you moving or just passing through?" Gilthunder asks him.

"I think mother plans on staying here for a little while. We were out by Cains town for quite awhile, then we stayed a few weeks in Ordan and then in Vaizel after that." He says thoughtfully. "Then we came here to Liones. You know, we'd heard we'd pull in some great crowds here, but we didn't realize it would be this busy right away." Hr grins at them. Of course, he couldn't tell any of them that he'd been to Liones before. Last they were here was around two decades ago and the reason behind the trip wasn't exactly to socialize. Plus, claiming he'd been here 20 years ago when he was meant to have barely been born by then wouldn't exactly go well.

"Trust me, if there's anything the people of Liones know how to do, it's drink and be merry." Howzer assures him.

Tristan laughs. "Well, in that case, I'm glad we ended up here. Seems I'll have a great time getting to know the people of this kingdom."

"Hell yeah!" Jericho says, taking a gulp of her ale.

"You should let us show you around sometime, Tristan." Guila tells him.

"We can give you the full tour!" Gilthunder adds.

Tristan beams. "I'd love that! Thank you!"

"To new friends!" Howzer holds his mug up above the table.

"To new friends!" The rest of the table cheers together, mimicking his actions.

Tristan is having so much fun with these people. They're so kind and always seem to be laughing. Over the course of the next hour, he finds out each of them are holy knights and that there's usually a fifth person in their group, Griamore, but he wasn't able to make it out with them tonight. They assure him that he'll get along with Griamore just as well as the rest of them and Tristan finds himself grinning from ear-to-ear. He'd forgotten what a wonderful feeling it is to make new friends like this and get to know new people. It's always been one of his favorite things about life in all his years on this continent. He just loves being around good people.

And in all his joy, for a little while, Tristan forgets about everything else. He forgets about his long day working. He forgets about the long, stalling journey to this kingdom. He forgets the knot he'd had in his stomach their whole way from Vaizel to here. He forgets the whole reason they've come to settle in Liones in the first place. He forgets all about the past and it's troubles. For the first time in a long time, just like he had been most of tonight, he feels himself shake loose from everything else except for the present that he's in right now. But he should've known it wouldn't last for very long.

As he and his table of friends fall into giggles over a joke Howzer made, his eyes land on the front door to the Tavern right as it opens up. In steps a new customer, clad in a sleeveless red tunic, white trousers, and knee-high, brown, leather boots with a band of gold around the tops of each. On the outer side of each boot, engraved into the gold, is the royal family crest of Liones. The same crest hangs on a necklace around the man's neck in deep, aqua blue and gold. Tristan gulps as his eyes trail all the way up to the man's face, already knowing exactly who it is before he does so. The newcomer has a head of messy, blonde hair, an obvious cowlick sticking up from the middle of his head. But the most striking feature of the man is his bright, green eyes and the wide grin he wears as he observes the inside of the tavern.

Tristan knew he'd show up eventually, he just hadn't realized it would be so soon. He isn't ready, he hasn't gotten enough time to prepare himself. The silverette feels his breathing pick up, his entire body tense. He hears someone at the table with him talking, but he can't understand what they're saying. His ears are ringing and all the sounds around him are muffled. He can't peel his eyes away from the man even though he wants nothing more than to do so. He digs his nails into the wood of the table in front of him as the man walks further into the room and away from the front door.

Tristan's mind finally gives him another objective other than to stare. This one is to run. And so he does. He gets up from the table and bolts from the building, ignoring the shouts he hears from behind him. He gets out and just runs. He runs away from Guila and Howzer and Gilthunder and Jericho. He runs away from his mother and his aunt. He runs away from the other customers at the tavern and their joyful chatter. He runs away from his home. He runs away from his past and his present and his future. But most of all, he runs away from his father.

~*~

Elizabeth hums softly to herself as she wipes down the bar. She's taking advantage of the slow down of business and using the time to clean up a bit. They still won't be closing for quite awhile - for a business like a tavern, it was way too early to close up shop - but cleaning up a little bit along the way will make for an easier shut down later on.

She hears Tristan laughing with the group he's sitting with and she smiles. Hopefully these friends will be good ones. She always finds herself worrying about him. A mother's duty, Veronica always reminds her. And an aunt's duty, too. That's always when Tristan will pipe in. It's a family's duty. It's natural instinct to worry about someone you love and family is who you love most of all. He always says. They all know it word for word by now. But either way, Elizabeth feels that she has every reason to worry about her son. The life they've lived hasn't been an easy one. She almost feels selfish for being glad she has him around for it. That she has any of them around for it.

A plate slides into her view and she blinks, coming back out of her own head. "Earth to Ellie." Veronica speaks up, leaning against the bar beside her, but on the inside rather than the outside like she was.

Elizabeth shakes her head to clear her thoughts. "Hey, Veer." She smiles at her softly. "How's the kitchen?"

"A literal hot mess. But the food's good. So, sit your ass down and eat, alright?" She picks up her fork, nodding at the bar stool closest to Elizabeth.

She follows her sister's instructions, sitting down and picking up her own fork as well. "Thank you." She takes a bite and closes her eyes. "This is so good."

"Yeah, especially since it's the first thing you've had to eat since this morning." She sighs and shakes her head. "You and Tristan both, what am I gonna do with you two?" She questions, but gives the silver-haired woman a fond smile.

Elizabeth looks at her sheepishly and giggles. "That's why you're here to take care of us."

"Damn right, I am. Someone has to." She playfully rolls her eyes and the two of them continue eating.

Veronica is just about to take their plates and go back into the kitchen when they hear the slam of the door and shouts. By the time Elizabeth turns to face the front door, whoever ran out is already gone. But then she turns towards the table Tristan was sitting at and she gets her answer on who it was. The group he was sitting with turns to look at her, all looking confused and concerned. "He froze up and seemed really freaked out, then he just ran out..." A pink-haired man informed her.

"I hope he's okay..." The black-haired woman said, the others nodding in agreement.

"I'll go get him." Veronica says behind her, and Elizabeth turns to her. Veronica is looking at something off to Elizabeth's right.

"Are you sure, Veer?" She asks.

"Yeah, of course." She turns back to look at Elizabeth and when their eyes lock, Veronica's light brown eyes are filled with a deep sadness, and Elizabeth feels a wave of dread run through her. "Besides, it seems like you have another matter to attend to anyways. That same matter is probably the reason that Tris ran out." Veronica whispers, nodding to where she was looking before before walking away.

Elizabeth doesn't look where her sister directed her at first, instead watching as Veronica leaves and lingering on the door. She's stalling, she knows she is. But she just needs a moment longer. The look in Veronica's eyes was unmistakable. She's seen it many times before. Elizabeth really shouldn't be so surprised. She knew he was in this kingdom. It was the whole reason they had come here. But they've only been in town for a day and she'd been hoping that they'd have a little more time. She should've known the universe would waste no time in leading him right to them.

Elizabeth turns back to the bar and grabs the mug sat in front of her, drinking down the rest of the ale in it. She pulls it away from her lips and sighs softly. Well, it's now or never, I suppose. She thinks to herself. Not much of a peptalk, but it's the best she's got for herself right now. Finally, she turns and faces the right side of the tavern.

She gasps, her eyes widening, the mug dropping from her hand. She never gets the chance to look very far because there he is, right in front of her. Her sky blue eyes immediately lock with his grass green ones and she's immediately stuck there. He looks absolutely beautiful, all bright and warm. His eyes are shining with joy and amusement, exactly like they should. Exactly like she always wants them to. She's stuck on his eyes, she can't even look at the rest of him yet. Looking into them is like looking into the brightest of natural lights. It shines so much warmth on her but she feels blinded.

"I think you dropped this."

Elizabeth finally manages to look away so that she can quickly hide the sob that tries to bubble up her throat at the sound of his voice, letting out a small cough instead. She forces a smile on her face and takes the mug that she had dropped out of his hand, careful to avoid brushing fingers with him. "Th-thank you." She tells him quietly.

"You're welcome! Do ya think I could get your name in exchange?" He asks her.

Elizabeth's smile softens into a small, but genuine one. "My name is Elizabeth. And you are?"

"Elizabeth. That name really suits you." He compliments, and she can't help the blush that comes to her cheeks. With him, even the simplest things affect her. "And I'm Meliodas. Prince Meliodas of the Kingdom of Liones." The introduction rhymes and Elizabeth giggles at the realization. At the sound of her amusement, his face brightens, if that's even possible, and he beams at her. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"It's lovely to meet you as well, Prince Meliodas." She says sincerely. For the 117th time.

~*~

Tristan gasps out, leaning against a tree and trying to catch his breath. He isn't sure how long he's been running, but he's finally run out of stamina for the moment. He slides down to the ground, his knees bending up to his chest and his back against the tree behind him. He wraps his arms around his legs and puts his head between his legs, trying to take long, slow breaths, as he's not sure how much of his lack of oxygen is actually from running and how much of it is from his panic.

He's in the middle of the woods now, the moon shining high above the trees. It could be a few minutes later, it could be an hour later. It probably wasn't the best idea to run off like that, he realizes. Surely all doing so did was worry his mother and put her into even more distress than just seeing father will do. Tristan feels a bit guilty now, realizing he left his mother all alone and didn't even stay with her for the first meeting, but he's not sure he would've been able to make it through without breaking down and running off just like he's already done.

Thirty-two. He's gone through this thirty-two times. He remembers every single moment of every single one except for the very first one, in which he was no older than a newborn. And now, he's about to go through it once again, bringing his total up to thirty three times. The number itself is nothing compared to his mother's count of a hundred and seventeen, but it's not some twisted competition. Aunt Veronica has been through it just as many times as mother, she's been with her since the very beginning of it all. And now they're all here going through it together. Uncle Gowther is around most of the time, too, and Aunt Merlin. Though Aunt Merlin hasn't been around much this last decade or so. She's been in Camelot, instead, but she still visits the tavern every once in awhile.

He's grateful for all of the family he does have, they'll never know how much he loves them all. But right now, the pain surrounding his father cuts through him like a blade covered in hellfire and all he wants to do is stay right here. Right in this moment, he'd give anything to forever avoid what comes next. The next introduction, the next round of who-will-he-be-this-time, the next "I love you", the next memory, the next death. Some stubborn, childish part of him just wants to stay right here and never go anywhere else ever again. He could just live right here forever, become a part of the woods, and never have to worry about anything ever again.

A hand comes down on his shoulder and he jumps, recognizing his Aunt Veronica's energy and scent right before he sees her face. "Just me, Tanny." She says softly, sitting down on the ground beside him.

He relaxes. "Sorry for running off." He apologizes. "Have I been gone for too long?"

"No, not really. We're only a few minutes away with our kind of speed. It'd probably take awhile for a human to get over here, though." She says thoughtfully. Tristan just nods, staying silent.

"...Are you alright, Tris?" The magenta-haired woman questions, looking at him with eyes that are an even mix of concerned and sad. And that's when he finally breaks. A sob forces its way out of his throat and he can't stop the tears that well up in his eyes from streaming down his cheeks. And then his aunt is pulling him into her arms. "Oh, honey."

He curls into himself, sobs and cries wracking through his entire body. He just couldn't hold any of it back, he feels overwhelmed. Maybe it's the long day, or the long week. He just feels so tired of everything. And he's especially tired of holding things back. So, he just lets it all out. He cries in his aunt's arms until there are no tears left and his gut hurts from how many times he's heaved out a sob. Until all that's left is the comfortable silence of the night around him.

~*~

"Why don't you head in through a balcony? Just in case he's still here, that way you don't have to worry about running into him tonight." Tristan's Aunt Veronica suggests.

He nods. "Yeah, I think I'd prefer that. I'm not ready to meet him just yet." He admits.

She rubs the back of her hand over his arm for a moment comfortingly. "That's perfectly fine. Just take your time, Tanny."

He gives her another quick hug. "Goodnight, Aunt Veronica, I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, kid. Get some good rest, okay? You've definitely earned it." She tells him, smiling softly. He smiles back before heading to the shadowed side of the tavern and jumping up onto the second floor balcony.

The bedroom it's attached to is Uncle Gowther's. He walks through it and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him before heading down the hall and up the stairs to his own bedroom. It's at the very top, his room technically being the attic, and it also had a balcony. Usually, he'd love to sit out on it and watch the stars for awhile, but he's too exhausted tonight. He quickly changes out of his work uniform and into his sleep clothes before flopping onto his bed and quickly settling in and under the covers, yawning as his head hits the pillow and sleep takes him almost immediately.

He wakes a little while later to his door being opened and then closed. He takes a deep breath in and picks up his mother's scent, slowly turning over to face the rest of his room. There's a dip in his bed next to his shoulder and he looks up as his eyes adjust to the darkness, locking eyes with his mother, her usually blue eyes now glowing the golden-orange hues of the goddess clan.

"I was hoping I wouldn't wake you." She tells him, sounding a little guilty.

"It's okay, I don't mind." He yawns, moving closer to her. She was sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, one leg pulled up in front of her and the other one off of the bed, foot planted on the ground.

She brings her hand up and brings it to his head, running her hands through his hair affectionately. Tristan hums softly in content as she continues the motion repeatedly. "What's he like this time?" He whispers after a few minutes, his curiosity getting the better of him.

His mother stays quiet for a moment longer before responding. "He's really sweet. Very kind. He reminds me a lot of you, actually. He seems to joke around a lot and he's very charming. He didn't stay for very long, I don't think he was actually supposed to be away from the castle tonight, but he said he would be back, of course." She tells him softly.

"Sorry for running off and leaving you all alone." He tells her, guilt seeping into his voice.

"Hey, you did nothing wrong, sweetheart. You weren't ready and there's nothing wrong with that." She reassures him. He swallows, moving as close to her as he can and curling himself up against her leg, that childish feeling from before coming back. "Those new friends of yours were worried when you left. I assured them you would be okay and they said to tell you that you're welcome to come find them in town anytime. The blonde one's father is the main blacksmith around here, so you can ask about his whereabouts there sometime. But they'll come back to the tavern sometime, too. They seem to really like you." She tells him, a smile in her voice.

Tristan presses his forehead against her knee. "They seem really nice." He answers honestly.

"That's good, I'm glad you've met them, then." She admits. The two of them fall silent after that for awhile, Tristan laying there with drooping eyes as his mother combs her fingers through his hair gently. Eventually, Tristan speaks up again.

"Hey, mama?" He looks up at her.

She looks down at him. "Yes, my sleepy boy?"

"Can you sing, please?" He asks her.

She gives him a tender smile and nods. "Of course I can."

Tristan smiles softly and yawns again as he turns and buries his face in her knee again, his eyes closing. And then he listens as his mother starts to sing him the same lullaby she's sang to him thousands of times, the one she made just for him.

"Little star, come with me

Fly through the sky and you will see

All the little things that make me believe

Fox cubs are playing

Trees are swaying

Wolf pups are howling

The night cats are prowling

All under your shining light

The flowers are sleeping

The moon is now peaking

And here you lay in my arms

Your eyes have slipped closed

This song I've composed

Leading you to your dreams

Little star, I love you

You know that I do

So, lay down your head

Let your mind rest

You're safe where you are

I won't be too far

I'll stay by your side

'Til sweet morning light."

The last thing he knows is his mother kissing the top of his head as she whispers, "Sweet dreams, my little star." before sleep finally pulls him under for the rest of the night.

~*~

A/N: What did you guys think??? Did you like it?? Please let me know!! I think overall this is a really fun concept to play with and I can’t wait to explore more of this little world that I’m building. Also, I wrote Elizabeth’s lullaby myself, so it’s completely original!! There isn’t much in the way of ships and romance yet, but there will be as we go along, I promise!!! Love you guys!!! 💜💜💜

Taglist:

[Lemme know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and others related to it!!!]

32 notes · View notes

saintkeaton · 8 months

Text

A B S T R A C T I O N

October is a

conspiracy

cold covering the

mind like

kudzu vines

i’m ready to take a

stab at those March

winds

maybe fly a damn

kite with the

kids

that's when the

absurd dream

sets in

dreams from the

silver resort

...for all the glory

there must be a

secret golden

truth

hiding in black halls

of unknown

hospitals

to bend

around rebellion

smash dark windows

piss on golden truth

while Buddha sits like

a lump of lying shit

damn!

how you messed up

my life for years!

to get caught in a

cycle of daily

paralyzation

plastered to an

easy chair

you watch from a

grand vantage point

while i’m rolling in

the mud

thirteen times you

nailed bad news onto

my chest

13 times you cut my

sentence off with a

razor

thirteen times

times

times before that

time is meaningless

don’t you know?

you know about your

blue veins popping

in my neck?

i grunt

take a shit

while boiling water in

the shower

it burns like hell!

that's just the way

she likes it

i can’t take the

heat

i step backwards

tell her she’s

insane

my brain tells me to

write this poem

some sorry attempt at

earthly immortality

i recon

the effort is met with

anxiety

dread

well

that’s not true is it?

it’s interesting

(for me at least)

to scan meaningless

words

slammed together in

random patchwork

growing this dead

thing

from inside out

it’s been done before

probably many times

but i’ve never

so fuck off!

non reader

if you click on this

pretentious shit

read my words

i won’t believe you

i’ll say you’re a liar

because there’s

something in the voice

makes me feel sick

i went and got a

broken ankle

while trying to

run away

run from that

sound

it's a good

thing

i didn't elect to

come here every time

or we’d all be

chewing onions

nothing in hell

could evoke

such madness

was it a scheme

i’d fallen into?

you hermit!

spiritually poor!

a reject!

desperately scrawling a

biography for a

life un-lived

with nothing but loose

powder on the

ground

eyes burning

snow blind

light comes to drink

me up

when the darkness is

just too much

i see your face

burnt into my

eyelids

i drink your beautiful

soul

i do!

Kathleen comes to me

with a gut punch

(love)

to knock my

soul out!

i met you with the

crazies

while you cut hair with

the keys in the

hidden room

you even wiped their

asses

wiped their

hearts

the one with

cancer

the one who killed

a horse

the one who

sketched your house

the one who danced

with me

the one who

loved you

the one who

hated me

in that dusty brick

hallway

making greeting cards

with your left

while you

scrubbed dishes with

the right

you don’t copy anyone

don't dance around

the subject

you face this shit

head on

we were with

the crazies

now we may be

them

so now i drive to

these houses

houses of dying

people

dead people

a grieving

old man told me

(with a grin)

that his wife had

given up the ghost

thought about it the

whole drive home

i know

what that meant

but i’m not sure

i also met a

15 year old boy

with cancer

he hasn't given up

the ghost yet

i’m not looking forward

to that day

i’ll pick his stuff up &

tell the family

i’m sorry

i have a feeling they

won't be talking about any

ghosts on that day

the dying boy’s gun is

cold metal black

he knows a dude

with night vision

goggles

that guy doesn’t play small ball

he told me

even the fat

cross eyed

retared kid gets a

bronze metal

a pat on the

back

he’s a first place

winner

so fire up a

glitchy video game

blow into the cartridge

remember childhood

even though it’s not

for human consumption

we smoked that shit

all day

all night long

i think i’m still

a little fucked up

from fake

still

i’ve never beat a

video game but i’ve

watched a warped

videotape full of

tracking lines

just as in my fever

dream

i see the demons

ripping apart the

people i love

i wonder if the

angels eavesdrop on

conversations

about us not believing

in them

do they dance to

our music

read our fucking

poetry?

now with our lineage

traced back for

200 years

our children's hands

bent behind them

the president checks

his email

it cracks me up

when I think that

nobody will be

here in reality to

make

an official report

when the world

finally ends

screaming

clawing!

i have zero idea

what poetry

actually is

brain droppings that

most people can’t

stand

i’d bet money

on it

this poetry is

Clint Eastwood movies

in VR headsets

while the president

still checks his

get it?

now the ashtray is

overflowing

it's only 8am

my lungs are full

of snot

i’ve deleted my

Facebook

thank Jesus

too many trash

bags to count

truck broke down so

there's no way of

hauling all the

shit off

listening to classical

music to drown out

the world

its buzzing

bullshit

all week i look

forward to writing

this garbage

composing in little

bursts between work

sleep

i’m already sick of

oxygen tanks

people struggling

to breath

i don't know how

doctors look death

in the face

everyday &

come home to their

mansions

sleep like

babies

now there's soggy

cereal spilled on the

counter

no one better be up

awake before coffee

has been

chugged

i ask

how does a man

keep discipline?

keep his mind in a

straight line?

to stop flashing

between Channels?

trudging through a

marsh full of sin

nasty devils

the number of the

beast is 100%.

with all the cut

sensitivity

that's

blood red under

the foreskin

with a closed mind

i listen to the

Dracula soundtrack on

repeat

through my

earbuds

coffee is my

life’s blood

weed don’t hurt

me either

beans with hot water

dried up plants

lit on fire

the amazing instant

life changers

i know that everything on

this earth

is a ministry

we wake up in the

cold morning

with outlandish

expectations

hopes that people

will stay in their

own lanes

not just walk with

confidence into your

unlocked home while

the woman is

still fast

asleep

to this degree

everything is

wrong

how unpredictable this

motherfucker

can be is

truly stunning

i think i will

withdraw into

abstraction

deep

absurd

uneducated

abstraction

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