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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 2 months

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Badge Bunny Part IV

Masterlist here!

Summary: When it all becomes too much, you're ready to leave Lehigh behind but Gator has other plans in mind.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. ANGST!!! Gun use mentioned for protection. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Tad bit of size kink. Creampie.

Word Count: 6.4K

You watched him leave, with tears clouding your vision as they began to roll hot down your cheeks. It felt like a stone sat deep within the pit of your stomach.

It was for the best. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself, while your head and heart are at odds with each other.

He was always stuck in limbo. Never fully present with you even when he was home. At Roy's beck and call any and all hours of the day. It made your heart ache knowing he would never be truly yours.

It surprised you when he hadn't fought back, accepting the finality of it without a single protest.

He'd left that morning and seemingly hadn't looked back.

After spending most of the day in bed in and out of consciousness, with your body thoroughly spent of its tears you trudged your way into the kitchen. Your eyes scanning the living room right away, as if they were drawn there.

He'd cleaned up while you had been sleeping that morning, even going as far as cutting out the carpeting that held those wine-colored stains. A fresh wave began to sting and build at your lash line at the thought of him trying to clear any reminders, as if it would somehow erase what happened all together.

It would be the first night of many that the loneliness was almost unbearable. The house was far too quiet.

Every little sound puts you on edge. He'd left his spare gun, so you moved it to your bedside. It had even crossed your mind to go to the pound and pick up a big dog for security mostly, but you'd also have someone in the house.

Nights were when the walls started to press in around you. Anxiety at its highest. Reliving all those moments over and over again. It was enough to drive someone mad.

You didn't want to go back to work, Henry understood and told you to take all the time you needed. Your job would still be there when you were ready. You also knew you couldn't stay unemployed for long.

Maggie came over a couple of times to check on you. Her hard exterior melted at the first sight of your swollen eyes and bruises barely beginning to heal, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You were waiting for that “I told you so” that never came. She didn't mention Gator, which was a first, always having something to say about him or his father. You were grateful for the mindless chatter and town gossip instead.

She'd brought you enough groceries that you didn't need to leave the house for a few days, but you were growing stir crazy.

When you'd finally made the decision to get out it was a breath of fresh air. The house was beginning to feel stuffy and small as you got that caged in feeling thrumming through your veins.

The next day you went back to work, opting for the morning shifts. It was shit pay, but it was better than coming in at night. Still worrying that someone could be lurking in the dark. Ready to finish what they'd started.

Gator finally came and got the majority of his things making sure to avoid you, doing it while you were away. You weren't sure how he knew you wouldn't be home. He hadn't reached out, but you knew he had ways of finding everything out in this town.

Your heart ached when you saw the now bare side of his closet. Drawers emptied of their contents. The finality of it hitting you with a magnitude you weren't expecting. You willed yourself not to start crying again.

That very moment you decided you were leaving Lehigh.

It's been two weeks since you last saw Gator Tillman.

You'd finally began to work nights, keeping that gun in your purse for added peace of mind. Pulling doubles as much as possible, saving every penny you can scrounge up. It still doesn't seem to be adding up as quickly as you would like.

It's been a slow morning, when you notice Andy walking through the door, not missing the way he tried to avoid looking directly at you when he sits himself at his usual booth.

You sighed to yourself as you headed over, grabbing him a drink before doing so.

“Hey Andy,” you tried to sound chipper, but you weren't even fooling yourself. Sitting his drink and a menu down in front of him.

“Hey Y/N. How ya’ been?” He asked, with a kind smile.

“Uh, I guess about as good as one could… after… all that.” Waving dismissively.

“I'm sorry. That was a dumb question. I…”

“No, Andy. It's ok.” Placing your hand to his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

No one ever asked about it. You wished someone would say something to get it out of the way, but they never did. Instead, looking at you like a fragile piece of glass.

“You wanna look over the menu or you know what you want?”

He ordered his usual. You knew he wouldn't have come here by himself. He never came in here before you and Gator got together. Gator dragging him here at least once a week while on shift just to see you for lunch.

You made more menial small talk, checking on him here and there.

Before he left you made sure to catch him.

“You can tell Gator I'm fine. And if he's so worried about me he can come talk to me himself.”

He didn't try to deny it, simply nodding his head smirking as he went.

“See ya later, Y/N. Stay safe.”

Being completely honest with yourself, you hadn't slept well since that night. A glass of wine quickly turned into a bottle before bed to fall asleep. It didn't help the bags under your eyes, but it took your mind off the pain for a little while. Relaxing you enough to coax your mind into a few hours of rest.

You'd been stocking up at the grocery store each time you went and today would be no different. You made the trek, leaving work at a normal time.

Henry could see your exhaustion and told you to take the night off. Well, more like ordering you to.

You hadn't realized when you left the house, you'd grabbed one of Gator's old hoodies instead of your own, but it would have to do for a quick trip.

Opting for a basket instead of a cart would make it a quick in and out. You browsed the frozen food section picking out a couple of things then heading straight for the wine aisle grabbing a couple of bottles of rosé.

You turned the corner, bumping full force into someone.

“Fuck,” you hissed out steading yourself against a broad chest, looking straight up into hazel eyes that you knew all too well.

“Gator, what the fuck?” He had a hold on your basket, making sure it hadn't fallen from your grasp.

“Sorry Bun… Y/N.” He blurted out, while his eyes roamed over you. He noticed his hoodie immediately, making a small smile creep up on him that was quickly wiped away by your disheveled appearance.

Bags are starting to form under your eyes. The bruise on your cheek is a distant memory now. The cut above your lip is nearly healed but will leave a scar. A small, taunting reminder that this is all his fault.

He'd had a couple of buddies watch you from time to time. His way of trying to keep you safe. Andy had relayed your message earlier today. You were smart he knew you'd see right through him when he stopped by.

He finally realizes the death grip he still had on your basket when you looked up at him with your signature, “what the fuck are you doing?” expression.

He let go and took a step back. Giving you the out he knows you'll take.

“I'm actually glad I ran into you.” You spoke, not meeting his direct gaze, looking back down to the basket not containing much of anything but the alcohol you planned to down for the evening.

“You are?” He perked up at that, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh, yeah.” Willing yourself to meet his eyes. “You need to tell your goons to back off. I'm fine. I don't mind Andy so much, but I don't need whatever you're trying to do.”

You weren't fine. You both knew it.

He scoffs. “I… what're you talking about?”

“Come on Tillman.” Titling your head up at him, leveling him with a sharp stare. “That savior complex you've got for me. Plus, you're a terrible liar. It's written all over your face.”

He snapped his mouth shut, gaze falling away from you, and finally noticing the wine. He didn't say anything, it would only make it worse, but you didn't drink. Not like that. And from what he's heard from one of his friends you came by the store daily for it.

“I just worry about you.” He said it so low; you almost missed it.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked, but when you stayed silent it told him all he needed to know.

“I've got to go. Just… just back off. Please.” You quickly shuffled toward the front, trying not to watch the crestfallen look on his face. You glanced back once you made it to the register, but he was already gone.

As the days went on, you realize that even the doubles weren't getting you enough to move from Lehigh as quickly as you wanted.

An idea struck a couple of days prior, something Maggie had mentioned when you first got into town. The prospect became more and more alluring with each passing day.

You were stuck and it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Henry was sad to see you go but he understood. Everyone understood. He was surprised you'd stayed around this long with everything that went down.

“I'm sorry, Henry. I just need to get out of here. It pays the bills but not enough to get me out of town.” Laying it all out on the line, giving him your notice.

“Hey kid, don't be sorry. It's ok.” He hugged you. You'd come to see Henry as a fatherly figure. He often rolled his eyes at your antics but always had a listening ear when you needed it.

“Just take care of yourself.” He added.

“Of course! I've made it this far on my own.” You grinned, leaving behind your apron.

You were headed across town to see a man about a different kind of job.

Gator stomped through the door of the Lucky Lizard a couple of days later, a man on a mission.

Henry spotted him as soon as he came barreling in, sighing to himself.

“Where is she?” Asking in a huff.

“Gator, nice to see you too.”

“Don't fuck with me right now. I know she quit her job two days ago. Where is she?” He fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Why don't you ask her yourself?” He turned away from him, grabbing a fresh beer for someone at the end of the bar.

“Because she doesn't want to talk to me. But I need to know she's safe. At least give me that. I know she talks to you.”

“Uh… that's a kicker now. Safe? I'm not so sure but I know she doesn't need you causing an uproar.” He was hesitant, mulling it over. Watching the younger man's expression turn a little more rigid. He was already mad; this would probably send him over the edge.

“Gator, now don't be a dumbass about this, but I know she went for a chat with Jeremy Nash.”

He felt like someone poured ice water over him. Anything but that.

“Fuck.” He hissed. Henry called after him, but it was too late. He was already out the door.

You weren't new to this kind of job, moonlighting as a cocktail waitress a few years ago, but you'd never taken the plunge to actually be an entertainer.

You'd gotten hired on the spot by Jeremy to start the weekend shift, luckily giving you a couple of days to prepare.

You arrived early. He showed you the grand tour giving you a locker and a vanity to get ready at.

The other girls looked at you with disdain and jealousy as soon as you walked in. Seeing you as nothing more than fresh meat and competition to take their money.

They chatted amongst themselves, not so much as a word toward you as they quickly got dressed and left you alone in the dressing room.

“Nice welcome,” muttering to yourself as you continued getting things out of your bag to get ready.

As you were finishing your eye liner, Jeremy came bustling into the room.

“Looking good! Ready to make some dough? You're up next.” He stated enthusiastically, eyes trailing your exposed skin, as if he didn't see tits and ass every day. He was a little sleazy but nice enough.

You were about to go on stage at The Tender Trap.

The only strip joint within 100 miles and it just so happened to be close to Lehigh.

“Uh, sure.” You put on your best fake smile and stood.

“Wow, you look great. What's the stage name again?”

“Ugh, Bunny.” Holding up those bunny ears you'd had stored away in the closet back at home for emphasis. Going with all black, fishnets with thigh high boots, you'd only have white ears. Your body suit covering you until it would be time to remove it. Nothing underneath, leaving those fishnets, making you feel a little less exposed.

He grinned, nodding his head “it fits.”

It felt a little wrong to use the name. But you had the outfit right down to the ears and tail, might as well use it to your advantage. Guys go crazy for that stupid Playboy bunny persona.

He led you to the backstage, curtains drawn as another girl was finishing up.

The bass of the music thumping through you. Doing absolutely nothing to quell the jitters you had.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special newcomer. Everyone give it up for Bunny!” The DJ came over the loudspeaker as Wicked Games by the Weeknd started to play. It was your cue.

Your hand slightly trembled as you pulled the curtain back. Stepping out into the small spotlight, temporarily blurring your vision.

You smiled at a couple of men to your right as you took a few more steps to the center, hips swaying with the song.

There were some whistles and shouts that spurred your confidence. You continued to look around the stage as you slowly walked forward.

Your smile dropped when you locked eyes with a familiar figure. He stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the stage, as he loomed over the other men.

His arms were crossed over his chest, staring you down, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. You froze for a moment before regaining your composure.

He tilted his head as if daring you to continue, eyes dark and zeroed in on you.

You tilted your head toward him and placed your hand around the pole to go ahead with your routine. His presence be damned.

It was then he jumped the edge of the tip rail, much to the grumbles and protests of the other men surrounding you, shedding his jacket as he stalked over.

“What the fuck, Gator?” You yelled, as he held the jacket up around you, pushing you back toward the curtain.

“I don't fuckin' think so Bunny. Let's go.”

With your heels you were nearly nose to nose with him, standing firm, you just stared him down.

“No.” You spat.

“Hey!” Both of your heads shot toward a very angry Jeremy Nash storming your way.

“Get the fuck off my stage! You entitled fuckin’ prick. Your father doesn't own this place Tillman.”

Gator rolled his eyes then narrowed his gaze back to you.

“Gator, just get the fuck down!” You yelled, pushing his chest but he hardly budged.

Jeremy reached the edge of the stage, pushing himself up and over, grabbing Gator’s arm momentarily knocking him off balance.

It all happened so fast. Once Jeremy grabbed him, he'd turned quickly, his fist meeting the other man's nose with an audible crunch that could be heard above the music.

He grabbed his face with a groan and started backing away immediately, yelling for you both to get the fuck out as blood poured down his mouth.

Without a second thought Gator turned back toward you, bending down, throwing an arm around your waist, and in one fluid motion hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Gator Tillman! Put the me the fuck down right now!” He ignored your protests, as you kicked your feet and pawed at his back.

“Quit it, Bunny. No girl of mine is working at a place like this.” He placed you back on the ground once you'd reached the dressing room.

The other girls gawked and cursed at the both of you before practically running over each other to get out the door.

When he rose up, you reared back and smacked him across the cheek.

"In case you forgot, I'm not your fucking girl." You hissed.

He wasn't shocked but he slowly released a breath through his nose before speaking.

“Get your shit. You can scream, yell and slap me all you want in the fuckin' truck but your comin’ with me.”

There was no point in arguing, you knew as much but at least you could let him know how you felt about it.

You gathered your belongings, tossing his jacket back at his chest and pulling a hoodie over yourself. Moving to the back door without saying a word, you let yourself out into the cool night.

You spotted his truck and got in, slamming the door making him wince.

He hauled himself into the driver's seat and started it, easing out of the parking space.

“You fucking humiliated me in there.”

“You’ll live.” He sighed. “As if you weren't about to humiliate yourself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? At least it's honest work, unlike what you and your goddamn daddy get up to. And don't play dumb Tillman, I don't know everything, but I know enough.”

You crossed your arms and stared out the window as he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. You expected him to snap back but he didn't say anything which only infuriated you further.

He wasn't the strong silent type; you can tell he was holding back. He'd throw his own tantrums, ending with you two clashing because you were so much alike.

“Goddamnit Gator you can't do this to me. We aren't together. You can't barge back into my life when you think I need saving. It doesn't fucking work like that!”

He slammed on the brakes, making you jolt forward and quickly pulled off to the side of the road throwing it in park.

“I can and I will! Especially when you end up in some shit hole like that! What the fuck were you thinking?” Sounding more disappointed than angry.

"I was thinking I can get enough money to finally leave this fucking hell on earth you call home behind because I don't want to be here anymore! That's what I was thinking. Anywhere is better than here. I won't have to see you, or your fucking bat shit crazy dad anymore.”

"Bunny," he tries.

"No, stop Gator. I'm not… you don't get to call me that anymore. Just drive me home. I'm done.”

He stares at your profile for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh, pulling back out into the highway. Neither of you bother speaking for a while until his calm voice cuts through the silence.

“You should leave, you know. Get out of Lehigh, hell out of the state. Get as far away from here while you still can.”

You were stunned. You'd expected him to beg and plead for you to stay, not this. Something was going on with him. You watched him concentrating on driving, but he was chewing his bottom lip.

“Is… is that what you want?” He didn't immediately answer, instead he pulled back off the road to give you his full attention, turning to face you in his seat.

“Of course that's not what I want, but if it means you'll be safe from… from all of this shit, then yes. Leave for your own good.” His eyes never left yours. You could see he was fighting his own emotions. “I love you, Bunny. I'll always fuckin’ love you until the day I die. It's just not safe.”

You could tell something was there. He wanted to tell you more.

“You… you could just come with me?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, tears forming at your lash line threatening to spill. “Please? We could leave tonight. Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere no one would find us.”

“Baby, I… I can't. I…” he reached out to touch you, but you quickly flinched out of his reach.

“No. This is exactly why we broke up. What the fuck was I thinking?” You laughed out, salty tears now flowing freely dripping from your chin.

He'd had enough of seeing you cry. He didn't know what else to do.

“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was stern, pulling you from your current spiraling thoughts, as he placed his hands on your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears as you nuzzled into the tender touch.

“Fuck it,” he hissed. Quickly surging forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You pulled back, your hand meeting his cheek harshly. Slapping him before you realized what you'd done.

He nodded, pulling his lip between his teeth before releasing a harsh breath.

“I'm sorry… I…” you began, grabbing his collar, pulling him back and pressing your lips back to his, pushing him further back into his seat, swinging your leg around so you could straddle him.

It was messy, full of want. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at one another.

“It's okay baby, just… just take it out on me.” He mumbled, between kisses.

His hands found your hips, fingertips catching the holes of your fishnets. His touch setting you on fire as he pushed you down onto the tent already forming in his pants. Guiding you to grind against him, as you both moaned out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You rasp out, as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, finding that juncture right below your ear, sucking a little harshly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands trail up, pushing the hoodie up, until your barely clothed chest is on display. Squeezing your breasts in his large hands had his hips bucking up into yours. Already so eager to be inside of you.

“Fuck Bunny.” He leans back to take another look at you, slowly appraising your outfit. “I think ya’ need a reminder of who you belong to. Ya’ can't be showin’ everyone this. It's f’me. All f’me.”

“We weren't together.” Rolling your eyes, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

“Don't care.” He pulls the cups of your body suit down haphazardly, as you hear the fabric tear beneath his rough grip. “You're mine.”

“Gator!” Protesting that quickly turns into a moan, as soon as his plush lips meet your chest, sucking harshly at your nipple while he pinches and rolls the other between his finger and thumb.

He pulls off with a pop, smug grin plastered across his face.

“What was that sweet thing?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss, with no real malice behind your words.

“Don't worry baby. We’ll get to that.”

You roll your eyes again, reaching a hand down to palm his very now prominent erection, eliciting a small moan cutting through his cocky demeanor.

“What's wrong baby?” Looking at him with your best doe eyed expression. “You miss me that bad?”

“You know I fuckin’ did.” He grits out, closing his eyes a moment before his hand wraps around the back of your neck pulling you down into another heated kiss.

Your hands quickly get to work as you ease back, reaching for and unlatching his belt buckle, undoing his pants and reaching in, finding him hot and heavy as you pull him free from his boxers.

Your thumb collects the precum from his slit, dragging it back down the length of his velvety shaft, as you swallow his stuttered moan.

You pull back slightly, his bottom lip between your plush ones, sucking before letting it pop back into place. You take the opportunity to catch him off guard, letting a string of saliva slip between your lips landing on the head of his cock.

“Fuck, Bunny.” He rasps out, hips pushing his dick further into your hand, searching for more friction.

He pulls at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it up and discarding it quickly onto the floor, as your hand comes back to languidly stroke him.

“Baby, please. If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum. I need you.” He didn't let you answer before his fingers slid the side of your body suit over. Bare save for your tights.

His fingertip grazes your clit as you throw your head back. He growled when the fabric caught, restricting his movements and further access.

You knew what he was thinking when he smirked up at you but before you could say anything to stop him, he pulled at the fabric, ripping it at the seam.

“Gator! What the fuck!” You hissed, before his fingers found your slit, sliding down catching at your entrance.

“I'll buy you a new pair. Promise.” You nodded, closing your eyes at the feeling, you ceased your ministrations gripping onto his shoulders for purchase. He circled your entrance, gathering slick before sliding back to your puffy clit. Relief flooded your veins as he began rubbing circles against you.

“More. I need more.” You moaned out, your cunt aching to be filled.

“Ride my fuckin’ cock then. S’all yours baby.” He said, gripping himself at the base and slapping it back against your bare pussy.

You raised up, allowing him to line himself up with your weeping entrance. As soon as his head breaches slightly, you grip his cheeks pulling his face up.

Maintaining eye contact as you slowly sank down around him. You relished in the stretch and slight sting, as he splits you open.

Pleasure begins taking over as your eyes start to roll back, releasing the grip on his face, bracing yourself against his chest. Your jaw went slack, as another wanton moan fell from your lips.

You slide down easily, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge as he fills you from beneath.

Your ass finally came to rest on his thighs, with his cock filling you to the brim.

He takes your palm and pushes it against your lower stomach.

“You feel me in there baby? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am?” You feel the bulge from where his cock is nestled within you, making your pussy flutter around him. “No one else could fuck ya’ that deep. Huh?”

“No… mmm… fuck, baby. God, I've missed you.” You breathed out, as you started to bounce, giving you both much needed relief.

“Yeah Bunny. That's it. Shit you feel so fuckin’ good. Missed this pussy. Missed you.” His eyes watch your tits bounce with the movement, as his hands grip your waist, helping raise your hips when you slow down just a bit.

Your bouncing begins to slow to a rhythmic grind, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass as heat starts to pool in your lower belly.

“Keep going baby, I know your fuckin' close. I'm gonna… fuck… gonna fill my fuckin' pussy up.” He grabs your cheeks roughly, as your eyes pop open to look at him.

“Tell me baby. Whose pussy is this? Huh? Who do you belong to?” He growled out, holding you still as he begins to piston his hips, fucking up into you.

“You… it's yours… Gator! Fuck!” You scream out.

“Yeah? All mine baby…mmm…play… play with your clit f’me. I want you to cum with me Bunny.”

He watches intently as you hand trails lower, finding your aching clit as he continues to fuck you from below.

“That's it baby. Feels good, huh?” Coming out a little mocking.

“Ugh… yes… feels so fuckin' good. I'm gonna cum all over your cock.” Your fingertip glides over your nub, feeling that electricity licking up your spine.

“Yeah baby? Gonna cum f’me?” Watching his length move in and out of you creating a creamy ring at the base, a mixture of both his and your arousal nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yesssss baby. Fuck…” His cock continues to nudge that sweet spot within you with every upward thrust.

You grasp his shoulders as your orgasm begins to wash over you, dragging you under with a blinding force.

“Baby, I'm cumming… I'm… ahhh…” It was all consuming, your pussy clenches around him like a vice, as those sparks began to flicker behind your eyelids. Your legs trembled as you writhed atop him.

“That's it, sweet thing. My tight, little…mmm… pussy is grippin’ me so fuckin' good.” He continues to push into you from below, as you try to come back to yourself.

“Cum… cum in me baby.” Your voice comes out shaky, as his cock twitches at your words.

“That what you want? Huh? I'm gonna fill this pussy full.” He grips your hips with a bruising force, pushing you down onto him, somehow impossibly deeper as he begins to cum.

You wrap your arms around his neck, as your hips grind down, working him through his own release. Your pussy milking him of every last drop. His face was turned upward, jaw going slack at the feeling as he breathes out a heavy moan. You loved the fact that only you ever got to see him like this.

“Fuck, Bunny. Baby… stop… I…” His fingers tighten on your hips, halting your movements.

You both still, foreheads resting together, chests heaving trying to catch your breath.

You looked into those lovesick eyes that you've missed so much. Unsure of what to say. Unsure of where this left the two of you.

You slowly lifted yourself from his lap, as he slid from you, you quickly moved off and tried to cover yourself. Your tights were in shambles and your top was ripped. You pulled the hoodie from the floor and pulled it back over you.

He sighs, watching you as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

“No matter what I fucking do I can't stop. I still fucking love you, Gator.” You were transfixed on the window, gaze on nothing in particular. He lets those words wash over him. He never wanted it to go this way.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For not being there. For not protecting you. I should have goddamn been there instead of working that night.” You look over at him with tears in your eyes at the pain and regret emanating from his words. You know he blames himself for what happened.

“I know you're sorry but…” you closed your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts into words. “It's not your fault, Gator.”

You reach your hand out, placing it on his and squeezing gently.

“Bunny, I can't go back to pretending we don't give a shit about each other. I'm moving back home.” He fixed you with a serious gaze. Giving you no room for discussion or arguing.

“And there are going to be some nights I get home late, maybe not until morning.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave a reassuring squeeze. “You have to trust me when I say I am doing this for both of us.”

“You aren't going to tell me what's going on?” Your voice trembled.

“Bunny, I can't. Just please, trust me. It's all going to be okay.” There was something in the way he said it so reassuringly and unwavering.

“I trust you, Gator. I love you.” The words came out as you reached over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him tightly to you.

“I love you, Bunny.”

In the following days, he moved his things back home as you both fell back into routine.

He rolled in some late nights, but you didn't ask any questions. He would come home and crawl into bed, pulling you into him, just like tonight.

You'd heard him enter, as a small smile crept at the corners of your lips when his arm wound around your waist with his warm chest to your back. His face buried into your neck, freshly washed hair tickling at your cheek as he sighed heavily.

“You awake baby?” He whispered, lips grazing your skin.

“Yeah, can't sleep until you get home.” He smiled at your admission but his heart aches all the same.

“I have to leave early in the morning.” He kisses your shoulder before continuing. “Whatever happens, I love you.”

You knew better than to ask what he meant. You just closed your eyes, praying to whoever might listen that whatever tomorrow would bring he'd come back home to you.

“I love you too.” You whispered through the dark, as the two of you held each other tight.

True to his word, his alarm blared before the sun rose, startling you both awake.

You'd followed him to the kitchen, watching his every move. Boxers slung low in his hips with his hair messy from sleep as your eyes drank in every detail.

“Baby, you didn't have to get up with me.” He chided, back of his knuckles running across your cheek as he sat beside you on the couch.

You curled into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, as he draped his over you resting his hand on your hip.

“Wanted to be with you.” Mumbling from your position, your head resting on his chest. He chuckled into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Whatever it is, you could just stay home. You don't have to go.” You muttered, grip on his waist tightening.

“I wish I could.” He kissed the top of your head, basking in warmth and love that he'd never had from anyone before you. Never thought he would be worthy of it, if he was being honest with himself. If he could bottle this moment and take it with him, he'd never ask for anything more.

He truly loves you more than anything in the world and reminds himself that this is for you. The both of you.

You stayed close to him until he practically had to push you off of him to head out, although reluctantly.

Once he laced his boots, he wrapped his arms around you one last time as you did the same, his hand rubbed your back with his lips pressed to your temple.

“I love you Bunny, but I've got to go baby.”

You hesitantly pull away, as he gathers his vest, slipping it over his shoulders.

“Be careful. I love you.” Saying it as he took his leave. You watched from the kitchen window as his truck left the driveway, taillights disappearing down the road.

You wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so you began getting ready for your shift at the bar. Henry was more than happy to give you your old job back after Gator made it impossible to go back to the Tender Trap with his rescue mission.

It was one of those days that he didn't text very much which usually meant it was a Roy’s business kind of day, always leaving you on edge.

Your shift was going smoothly, which seemed to improve your mood. You checked your phone at break to find a missed call from Gator.

He'd left a voicemail, that you immediately began to play.

“Hey Bunny, I know you're working but I wish I could have caught you. Baby, I know I've been quiet about everything and I'm sorry. Just know that whatever goes down today that I love you. I just wanted you to know that, and… (muffled background noise) shit … I've got to go.”

It caught you off guard. You sat there looking at the phone in your hand, as you swallowed a lump you hadn't realized was caught in your throat.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out.

You dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Your heart rate kicked up with your mind visiting the worst possibilities.

You sent him a quick text hoping he would see it and put some of your worry at ease.

Baby, please call me back when you get this. I love you.

You shoved it back into your apron pocket making sure it was on vibrate making your way back into the bar.

You made your rounds checking tables, as you heard sirens approach, snapping your head up to watch five black unmarked SUVs pass by quickly headed East.

It caught the attention of the entire bar; everyone was silent for a beat as they watched.

“What the hell was that?” Henry, cutting through the quiet.

“I don't know, but it doesn't look good.” You watched them until they disappeared down the road and out of sight.

Andy burst through the door a few moments later, making a beeline straight for you. Looking a little worse for wear, color drained from his face aside from his flushed cheeks. When he'd gotten closer you noticed a cut on his left eyebrow.

“Y/N! Something's going down at the ranch. I think Roy's finally lost his goddamn mind. Feds are headed over there.” He rushed out, breathless as if he'd run all the way here.

So, this was it. His unwillingness to answer questions and sneaking around. It started to make sense. Something big went down and he's known about it, keeping you in the dark.

Gator, what the fuck have you done?

#gator tillman #gator smut #🐊#badge bunny series #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x badge bunny #gator tillman angst #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x female reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #badge bunny au #gator x bunny

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lemonlovemeanslove · 7 months

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Favorite Tintin panel?

this was such a hard ask (which is why ive taken so long to think about it). At first, I had one that immediately came to mind but then I was all like nooo, that can't be it, I should have a more valid answer. So I decided to take my time, making different categories, and making sure to really thing about it. After doing all this, I realized my initial answer was still my favorite, but I might as well show all the work I put in (the favorite is at the end)

Artistically: There are the my favorite tintin panels in terms of what I find to be artistically appealing :)

I have always been very drawn the the way Herge drawings landscapes and mechanics, so these are very appealing to me. The second one also carries a lot of nostalgia for me, as I would constantly trace it as a kid when learning how to draw. The composition, the colours, and the atmosphere, it's just so compelling.

Pacing/storytelling: The panels that I find to be the most effective in utilising pacing and layout

I am OBSESSED with how easy the motions flow when following the panels (the way we follow the plane as its landing makes me want to scream its so good)

Characterization: the panels that i think best capture the essence of the characters. this one was really easy for me, since i have always had a favourite for this category

I dont know if this counts since its a front cover, but everytjing about this is just so craxy good. It communciates so much within such little space (the slightly paniced on shit lets get out of here look on Haddock, the way he is holding on to Professor Kalkyl, the expression on Kalkyls face and the way he is gesturing with his hand, the way Tintin is the ONLY one looking back, bc its just so in his nature to still want to see whats going on, its perfect. Milous expression is also very him)

Funniest: self-explanatory

This last panel is the funniest in all the comics for me. Tintins expression killllls me everytime

Cutest: All panels belogning to the immidate smile/aw category

those quick to catch on might have noticed that Haddock is my favorite character, but idk, Im pretty subtle about it :)

And now....

My favourite panel: The panel I initially thought of, then went no I have to find a better answer, only to realize that it was still, in fact, my favorite.

I find this panel appealing on so many levels. 'First, it's Haddock in a cute pose, wearing a different outfit, being moody, everything I love. Second I really like the colours in this, the emerald green chair against the purple accent on the robe just does something to me, and the way the cross hatching on the robe looks next to the cross hating for the bricks in the background makes me scream. The texture on the road itself and the details on the pocket is just so gorge to me. And that pop of baby blue under the robe……i might die. I also really like the compostion, the postion of the chair and the fireplace and the door in the background. It all just works to well for me.

#tintin #adventures of tintin #the adventures of tintin #I know that there is one panel for the first category that im forgetting about but I cant be bothered to go through all the comics #we have at home to find it but it dont matter this answer is already so long lol

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sayafics · 9 months

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Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter IV

Hey guys! Sorry for taking such a long break, I had a lot of fsmily events over the last few weeks and had a hard time juggling time.

I do hope you enjoy the update, though. I think this chapter will be the last for this series unless there's specific prompts/ideas you want to see. (If so, let me know in the comments or asks! I'd be v happy to write them <33)

TW: implied SA, slight violence

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Geralt had searched for months, the days scraping by as he looked for Andromeda in every shadow, in every smile, in every laugh that haunted him on his travels.

He had left his friends - left them all so he could find her.

Cirilla was safe with Yennefer at Aretuza, and Jaskier had wandered to distant lands, his heart full of broken ballads of an unfinished journey.

Geralt and Yennefer had kept a tentative friendship, ever so cautious to not overstep the boundaries Geralt had so diligently drawn up. Friendship came to them with ease, but every interaction was soured by guilt from one party and longing from the other.

Geralt ventured through the continents, unsure of what guided him and where. His mind was bare of thoughts and his heart burning with emotions he had never been taught to deal with. He was a mess.

He had barely slept since Andromeda had left, living off the scarcest meals as his stomach turned to lead at the idea she may be starving in some backwashed village all because he had messed up and sent her running.

Andromeda was a princess. She was not made for the life he lives. Yet she still followed him into danger, still healed his every wound, and still stood bravely in the face of death if it meant Cirilla would be okay.

She trusted Geralt, trusted him to help them survive, to help them live and find a purpose. Now she was alone, far from them all. And he did not even know if she was safe.

Andromeda was an enigma, a presence so addicting he felt his skin crawl at the realisation he had been so far apart from her for so long. His heart would burn as it longed for her. His mind was plagued with the sound of her voice, his skin imprinted with the sensation of her hands brushing against his skin as she took care to treat his wounds after every battle, his eyes tracing her silohuette in the shadows as he forced himself to sleep at night.

Months.

Months of searching and no success.

Geralt was laid back in a bed, facing the ceiling as he laid an arm over his forehead and scrunched his eyes closed in defeat. He couldn't get her out of his head, her eyes burned into his mind, and sometimes, in the dead of night, he would pretend she was watching him as he slept. Ever a watchful eye, a caring friend, a loving mate.

Perhaps that was why this situation took him by surprise.

He smelt it - a deep and honeyed scent of orange blossoms and jasmine tickling his senses as he leapt up from his place on the bed.

He inhaled deeply, a wild beast searching for its prey. His shoulders tensed as he leapt up to replace his sword and dagger into their respective belts, hands rummaging through blankets and over furniture to collect trinkets and vials he had thrown carelessly across the tavern room as he lost himself in his grief.

Geralt marched through the tavern he had taken residence in, deaf to the cries of indignation of drunk patrons he barged past and eyes seeking a familiar head of hair in the crowd.

His senses led him far from the tavern he hoped Andromeda was hidden in, pushing him to march towards the outskirts of town.

Geralt had never found himself fearing for his life, never had he faced a creature he could not slay and never had he doubted the skills instilled upon him from infancy.

Yet, in this moment now, as he tore through the wilderness in the careful embrace of the night sky, the air thick with fear and horror as the smell he had been craving - the smell he had been fantasising about for months - made itself known to him and grew stronger as he drew closer, he felt a shred of fear wedge itself in his heart.

He could hear a stuttered heartbeat, ragged breaths, and a cloying scent of terror threatened to burn his eyes.

He dared not speak a word, fearful even the faintest whisper would turn his trail into phantom sensations, and he would be following nothing but an echo. A ghost of the woman he had lost.

Still, his shoulders were raised in determination, eyes narrow as he searched through overgrown shrubs and low-hanging trees, head on a swivel as the hand on his right side twitched, ready to reach for his sword if a threat made itself known.

"Please..."

It was a quiet whisper, a pleading whine. And that's how Geralt knew.

It was her.

He would recognise the melody of her voice anywhere. He could be holding onto this life by a thread, and her voice would the only thing he wanted. Needed.

Geralt broke out into a sprint, hand drawing out his sword as he feared what creature could have her so subdued by fear.

He came to a stumbled halt as he took the scene in ahead of his, hand tightening around his sword as a threatening sneer painted itself across his face.

There she stood with her back to him, she was dressed in leathers. They looked clean, neat. Next to her foot laid a single dagger, the hand that seemingly held it before had blood flowing from it, ruby pearls cascading down her fingers to seep into the damp soil.

The sight reminded him of the night with the ghouls, of how he had bled similarly before running to find her, only to miss her by a hair's breadth.

He had found her now.

But she was not safe.

Her back was to him, but he could see how her figure trembled in fear, a calloused hand twisted itself into the careless waves her hair had been flowing down her back in, a knife held to her throat as a man threatened her with a painful death, and forsaken torture.

It didn't take long for the pair to realise someone had joined them, and as the assailant took in Geralt's presence he twisted the girl harshly so her back was against his chest, the hand in her hair tugging her head back so he could press the knife harshly into her skin.

"Geralt."

Andromeda's eyes were wide, pupils blown by fear and mouth parted in surprise.

She looked... good.

She looked healthy, and had it not been for this moment he had stumbled upon, Geralt was sure she had been safe too. The hollows of her face had filled slightly over the months she had been gone. Her eyes no longer held an ache and were not weighed down by pain and longing. As though she had been eating properly, and was able to sleep through the night despite her fear of the dark.

"Rory..."

Her face shuttered at his whisper, drawing in a sharp breath as she ignored the threat of the man behind her and focused on taking in the man who stood in front of her.

Despite all his betrayals, all the hurt he had inflicted upon her, despite his harsh words and unprovoked actions, she found a weight lifting from her shoulders at the sight of him.

He looked ragged, as though he was worn down and tired. And some part of Andromeda was selfish enough to hope she was the cause of it.

A wince escaped her as the man pressed the knife harder against her throat, feeling a warm trickle down her throat, pooling at the hollow at the base of her nack.

A growl ripped from Geralt's throat, "let her go and I'll give you a quick death."

The man scoffed, "an' why should I do that? She's mine, I found 'er first. Get lost Witcher, we don' want y'r lot 'round here."

Geralt huffed in amusement, taking a step foward as he raised his sword higher in a show of promise, "what do you want? If not a quick death."

The man's eyes narrowed, his dark, bushy brows drawing into a frown and peeking past the strands of ebony hair that fell over his face in rivulets. His face had paled when he caught sight of the Witcher, but now it began to redden at the reminder of the cause of his indignation, "this bitch stole me silver. I need repayment, so 'm here t' get it. Been huntin' her down for weeks now, quick little brat, this one. Think I deserve a reward."

A leering smile stretched across the face of the gaunt man, the hand in her hair leaving to wrap around her waist as he pulled her further into him, pressing and feeling.

Andromeda screwed her eyes shut as nausea threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Geralt twisted his head, his heart roaring at the scent of fear that rolled off her in crashing waves, at her quiet whimpers and horrified glances.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a hefty bag he had been rewarded for a recent job he had been successful in. He threw it at the man's feet, wary to give into violence so soon, afraid his need for vengeance would only cause Andromeda more hurt.

No, first she had to be safe. Then he would do what his mind was screaming for him to when he first came upon the scene.

The man looked towards the bag in amusement, eyes dragging their way back to Geralt - "no amount of silvers goin' t' gimme what I need."

"And what do you need?"

"Her. Or her bits at least."

Geralt's heart thudded at his lecherous smile and travelling hands, face grim as he tried to think of a way to help without risking Andromeda getting hurt.

Andromeda spoke then, "then you'll let me go?"

Her voice was quiet, tainted with despair and dread. Geralt screwed his face up in anger and cut off the man with conviction before he spoke, "you won't touch her."

The man laughed unashamedly, head thrown back in glee, "already am Witcher, see."

His hands roved over her, dragging harshly from her waist to her stomach, spanning up to the valley of her breasts and tracing her throat before winding itself in her hair once more. All the while, Andromeda screwed her eyes shut, her stomach roiling in protest at the feel of his touch.

"It's okay, Geralt," there was a whisper of defeat as she looked at him, her eyes glittered as they pooled with expectant tears. The situation was too precarious, too unpredictable. She knew Geralt couldn't help her without risking her life, and a part of her felt envious when she thought of how he had succeeded in helping those who had been in much more vile situations than her own. A traiterous voice told her that if Yennefer had been in her place, he would have fought endlessly for her safety without hesitation.

But Andromeda was not Yennefer, and she didn't hold the same place in Geralt's heart that Yennefer did.

"It's okay," she repeated, her voice stronger despite the fact she felt herself breaking as the seconds passed. She would accept the fate ahead of her. She would pray for her survival and beg the Fates to allow her the strength to move past it and be better.

But if she were to succumb to death, she would walk into its welcoming arms with a relieved smile, "it's okay, Geralt," tears flowed down her face freely now, shoulders lowering as she forced her body to relax, "you'll be free." To love Yennefer, to be with her without guilt.

She had expected to find silent relief in his eyes or a sigh of understanding to escape past his lips. Instead, her words seemed to anger him. Her acceptance of her fate, her willingness to give her body and free will away simply because she thought he would be happy, ignited a blazing fire within him.

Geralt would fight endlessly for Yennefer. But he would wage wars for Andromeda. He would level cities and burn worlds in her name.

It was Andromeda who he pined for all these years, Andromeda whom he wished to pick but felt undeserving of, Andromeda who he was tied to so intricately that he revered the bonds which attached them with unadulterated adoration.

It was Andromeda. It has always been Andromeda.

Geralt nodded, his face expressionless as he lowered the arm holding his sword. The assailant fould himself straightening in surprise, baffled at how the Witcher had given up so easily.

Andromeda's face crumpled in a mixture of understanding and disbelief. It was what she had expected. She wasn't Yennefer.

Geralt lowered himself to the ground, bending at the knees as he placatingly spoke, "I'm going to put the sword down, then I will leave."

The man didn't understand why Geralt would discard his sword before leaving. If Geralt accepted the assailant's terms, then he could leave freely with his weapon if he so wished.

He opened his mouth to speak as such, but a vicious roar escaped Geralt, one filled with grief and guilt and anger as his left hand was thrown forward from behind his back and a knife lodged into the dark-haired man's kneecap.

The assailant let out a wail of agony, falling to the ground harshly. He hadn't expected the pain, hadn't expected Geralt's harsh attack, so the knife fell freely from his hands without causing Andromeda much hurt.

She fell to the floor with the injured man, but before he could reach for her once more she leapt away from him, eyes wide in fear as she saw how he frothed at the mouth and spewed off slurs at both herself and Geralt.

Geralt didn't wait a moment longer, leaving his sword behind he lauched himself at the man. Geralt burned with rage, every scent and every sound a reminder of how close he was to losing Andromeda all over again.

He continued wailing on the man, every hit harder than the last, and his anger did not wane until the man took a rattled last breath. It was then he looked up to find Andromeda staring at him in stunned silence.

Andromeda should have been wary and fearful of Geralt. Her heart should have trembled as he stood to step over the crumpled corpse to stalk his way to her. She should have trembled and cried at the sight of him inhaling deeply, refamiliarising himself with her scent and the overwhelming bounds of emotions that spurted from her uncontrollably.

But as she reached towards his hand that was stretched towards her, palm up - staring at his raw and bleeding knuckles, at the spurts of blood which speckled across his face and the greasy strands of hair that fell across his face - she found herself bubbling in desire.

He had done this for her. To protect her.

She glanced towards the motionless body behind Geralt, hand finally enclosed in his own as he tugged her up to stand - he had killed for her.

He had killed for her.

Andromeda didn't have a chance to look into his eyes, to see the passion and fear and love that drowned his amber eyes. Instead, Geralt drew her into a shaky embrace, as though he couldn't believe she was standing in front of him, as though he couldn't believe he had found her.

When Andromeda didn't rear back from his gentle touches, he tightened his arms around her as a shuddered breath escaped him. He buried his head in the tresses of her hair, finding solace in the familiar scent of orange blossoms and jasmine as he i haled deeply. He tried commiting her form to memory, tried to memorise how her body melded into his own, how it fit against him.

But Geralt could spend an eternity with her in his embrace, and he would still yearn to hold her for longer.

Geralt stiffened at the feeling of a light caress against his back, it was a hesitant touch he soon recognised as Andromeda returning his embrace.

He could no longer help it.

Geralt of Rivia. Butcher of Blaviken. The White Wolf. The Witcher.

All of these twisted parts of his were warriors, stripped of emotions and imbued with skills and tactics.

Yet, in her warm embrace, his eyes began to burn as traiterous tears escaped.

Andromeda closed her eyes in quiet relief at the feeling of his tears against her head, hoping to cherish the moment before Geralt of Rivia replaced her Geralt.

Before Yennefer's Geralt took the place of her own.

"Come back."

Yennefer's Geralt never did come back, and Andromeda found herself wondering if he had even existed in the first play or if he had simply been a mask to hide Geralt's deeper feelings.

His voice was raw, it was quiet. Almost child-like, tinged with desperation as he held onto her tighter, fearful she would slip between his fingers once more.

"Come back, Rory," he pleaded, "come back to me. Come back with me."

She shut her eyes in agony, knowing every inch of her being begged her to say yes. But she knew better, after all this time, she knew better than to blindly say yes.

The truth was, over the last few months that she had been gone, there were no burning sensations that plagued her. There was no sign through her bond to Geralt displaying that he was laying with another.

Not even a burn of the lips like the one she had felt so many moons ago.

But she knew better.

"Do you love her?"

She had to know. She couldn't leave him without knowing, and she couldn't stay when she thought he did.

Geralt pulled back, hands reaching to cup her face as he pulled her face up to look at him, his eyes earnest as he spoke, "I did. Perhaps a part of me still does."

He saw the way her face crumpled at that, but he forced himself to continue, "but it's a thing of the past. I picked you. I pick you. I have every day since that night by the fire"

A harsh laugh escaped her as she tried to pull away unsuccessfully, "then why did you kiss her that night?"

He closed his eyes as he was overcome with guilt, "I didn't do it because I love her. I told her I wanted you, I needed you. She wanted to say goodbye. And it was wrong of me, I know, and I am so sorry, little one. But it is over, never to happen again."

"How can I believe you? You lied to me once already."

Her words were spoken defeatedly, but it caused determination to rise in Geralt. He brought a hand to reach for her own, placing her palm against his chest, against his heart - "ask me."

She looked at him in confusion, a small frown tugging at her lips, "what?"

"Ask me."

She knew what he meant, of course she did and she found herself breaking into a sweat as she tried to string her words together.

"Do- do you love me, Geralt?"

"Only you, only ever you." Andromeda could feel his thudding heart, the way it beat against its cage as he confessed the truth after so long, begging to bare himself to the girl. To show all his scars and faults, and plead with her to accept him and love him as he is.

She found her own heart began to beat in sync.

"It's only ever been you, Rory. You're all I ever want," he leaned closer to her, nose brushing against her own as his breath fanned over her mouth, the sensation causing blood to rush and tint her face a darkened pink. "I love you," the whispered confession came out at a rushing pace. He began echoing his words as he teetered between kissing her or letting her go.

Thankfully, heart satiated by the confession, spirits reignited, and doubts diminished, she looked at Geralt with eyes full of adoration. Her hands skimmed up the leathers of his arm, carressing over his broad shoulders before tickling up his neck as they took their place at the edge of his jaw, close enough to tug a few strands of hair as she dragged him closer.

Her tongue flicked out her mouth, lightly tracing the shape of his lips only a breath away, every accidental brush against his lips caused Geralt to flush red until his impatience got the better of him, "kiss me."

The demand was fulfilled with vigour as Andromeda soared up on her toes as Geralt leaned down. They met with a soft kiss, their lips gliding against each other as hesitance melted into passion, and they began to pour eons' worth of unreminisced desires into a single kiss.

The kiss caused their souls to brighten, a pleasurable burn racing through their body as the claim Geralt had made all those years ago sang harmoniously at their union.

Andromeda wasn't sure how long they had been kissing, but when she pulled back to gasp for air she found herself tucking back some loose strands of hair behind his ear, a shy smile bracing her face as she confessed, "I love you too."

"Come home, little love."

Home was where her heart lived, with her family. With a grumpy Witcher, a runaway princess, and a boisterous bard.

"Take me home, Geralt. Take me whever you go."

They stood there for some time, their heads leaning against one another, eyes closed as they basked in each other's presence.

Andromeda's hand found its way back to Geralt's chest, finding solace in the racing beats of his heart.

Geralt's hands had never left Andromeda's face, absentmindedly tracing the contours of her face, following every blemish and scar that graced her skin.

Soon night turned into dawn, and they looked at each other with renewed vigour in the golden light, drinking in the site of each other hungrily.

Geralt had found Andromeda.

Andromeda had found Geralt.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

#geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #cirilla of cintra #princess cirilla #cirilla of vengerberg #witcher cirilla #the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier

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duck-in-a-thrift-store · 13 days

Text

Prologue? Pilot? IDK Man I Just Work Here

(part 1.2)

{hey so uhhhh

i have finals coming up and its the last week of classes and im lowkey failing two of mine right now, so unfortunately im going to have to go on hiatus for a bit- even though i literally just started, ugh- while i try to catch up and deal with... all that

that said, ive decided to split the prologue up into three parts instead of two and just go ahead and give you what ive got so far of the rest of it

this and the third (and hopefully final) segment is where we really start setting up/contextualizing the "full house" premise of the fic

link to part 1.1 here}

~~~

So, over the next several weeks, they come up with a plan.

Most of them aren’t exactly happy about the plan, but… oh well.

The parents are determined to move their children- who have proven themselves to be prime targets for the supernatural- out of town, to relocate them somewhere they’ll be well-removed from the apocalypse unfolding in Hawkins. Caught up to speed about the history of Hawkins Lab and Owens’s involvement in everything, they all but order him to help with the arrangements.

And he delivers. Calls are made, blueprints are drawn, and before they know it, a plot of land has been secured two thousand miles away in California for a house to be built on. And it’s going to have to be a pretty big house, considering it’ll be home to six teenagers and a pre-teen.

The kids are dead set on not being separated again; it’s one of their conditions for agreeing to leave. Steve can’t blame them, honestly. After everything they’ve been through together, he doesn’t want to be apart from them either. In fact, he’s been feeling a bit paralyzed by the thought, has had a little trouble breathing since the move was decided.

He’s sort of out of it the next time everyone gathers at the hospital to hash out the details, to be honest, but in his defense, his head isn’t quite what it used to be before all the hits he’s taken in recent years.

But then the ongoing discussion turns to who will look after the kids, and well, that certainly gets his attention.

There’s a military blockade taking shape around the area, keeping the threat contained- but also the citizens. It’s only through Owens’s connections and influence that they’ll be able to sneak the kids out, and just that in itself is going to be risky. As much as they’d like to, they can’t take everyone.

The parents have agreed to join the resistance that’s starting to form, a force of townsfolk who have finally realized what’s really happening and are banding together to find a solution, or at least hold off the Upside Down from taking over for as long as they can. Hopper and Joyce have taken it upon themselves to teach everyone as much as they can about what they’re up against, and a few of the others are helping out with pooling resources and organizing community childcare.

For various reasons, their families won’t be coming along.

“Who’s going to take care of you all?” Sue asks, her question directed more towards the room at large than the kids themselves. “None of you are older than fifteen; I don’t want you out there on your own with no adult supervision.”

Karen starts to say something, probably about how she doesn’t intend to let Nancy stay behind either, that there will definitely be at least one person over fifteen present, but Steve cuts her off in his eagerness. He practically jumps out of his seat, actually, but he’s held in place by his desperate grip on the sheets of the hospital bed he’s still stuck in until he’s done recovering from the demobat bites.

“I’ll do it!”

Once again, all eyes are on him, and they’re broadcasting confusion, surprise- in the case of the parents, that is. The kids mostly look relieved. None of them will say it- the little shits- but he’s pretty sure they were just as worried about leaving him behind as he was about sending them away.

Claudia tilts her head at him in question. “You? What, by yourself?”

Steve figures the faintly bitter disbelief in her voice has less to do with him and more to do with Dustin’s deadbeat dad, so he chooses not to take it to heart. But before he can make a remark about how some men are actually interested in fatherhood- although he’s not entirely sure what his brain even means by that- Karen Wheeler speaks up.

“Not by himself, no. What I was about to say a moment ago was that Nancy is going too. I don’t want my daughter staying here after being involved with all this pretty much since the beginning. But, Steve, even then, you’re hardly adults yourselves- Nancy only just graduated high school last week. I don’t think you two should be left to basically parent seven kids all alone; it’s too much responsibility.”

(While she does have a point, and he’s certainly not opposed to having Nancy out of harm’s way, it’s also important to note that the daughter in question is currently busy giving shooting lessons to a sizable portion of the resistance. Nancy is no stranger to responsibility, but she isn’t exactly the motherly type, either. Regardless, Steve wants both roles for himself- at least on a subconscious level. He’s not quite aware of it yet, his rightful place as both mom and dad to the party, but… he’ll get there. He thinks of himself more as a glorified babysitter, really, but it is a position he takes very seriously nowadays.)

Mistaking Steve's spacey expression for something else, Dustin mutters smugly beside him, “I bet you would looove that.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shoots back, “Can it, kid. We’ve been over this. Nance and I are not getting back together.”

Nancy and Jonathan broke up after her graduation, for reasons which Steve has decided are none of his business. In some ways, this made the idea of rekindling their relationship- something his friends insisted he should try to do- more of an actual possibility. And yet, somehow, that in itself helped him realize that he doesn’t really want to get back together. And he knows she feels the same, even if there are some weird lingering feelings on both sides of the issue. They simply aren’t compatible, and that’s okay. It took him a while to get here, but now he’s happy just being her friend.

Thankfully, Robin joins in, interrupting that awkward train of thought and providing the solution to a problem Steve hasn't even considered yet.

“They wouldn’t be alone, Mrs. Wheeler. I can help out, too.”

“You would do that? Move across the country and play house with me and these brats?”

“Of course I would, dingus. Where you go, I go.”

The fondness in their exchange prompts some raised eyebrows from the others, but that’s irrelevant. Steve is just massively thankful that Robin is offering to come along. Having to choose between the kids and his platonic soulmate would have torn him apart just as badly as the bats did.

“And I’d say the same about Will and El,” Jonathan says as he joins the group. “So I hope there’s room for a couple more.” He glances questioningly at Argyle, who came in with him.

Argyle just shrugs. “I’m sticking with you, man.” Apparently, his parents turned him out to fend for himself when he hit eighteen, so he doesn’t have much to go back to, and he’s been content staying with the Byers until the blockade is lifted- or for the long haul, it seems.

Karen nods in Jonathan’s direction. “Good, I’m sure Joyce will feel better knowing you’ll be there.”

So that makes five of us. Considering I’ve wrangled most of these guys on my own plenty of times by now, that should be totally manageable. I guess it will be nice to have some guaranteed backup for once.

It looks like the gang is staying together after all, plus at least one new-ish addition.

But, speaking of "new-ish additions" to the group, there is still a six-foot deep hole in the entire plan, which is the question of what to do with a dead man when all his remaining friends are ditching town.

“What about... Eddie?”

~~~

{well folks theres the second installment of the prologue. as for the rest of it... youll get it when you get it. hopefully ill be able to start updating more regularly once i go back home for the summer. things are just kinda crazy right now hahahahaha <-(the deranged laughter of a person whose ass is not passing all their courses this time and is very seriously considering becoming a college dropout)

oh and yeah so eddies dead i guess. not what i had planned but sometimes the plot just does what it wants. you know how full house basically starts off with dannys wife dying in a car accident (offscreen and prior to the events of the actual show anyway)? and steve is like, very loosely the au's parallel of danny? well you might not have known that actually but i just told you. so. yeah. you get where this is going

also, to my unofficial beta readers and lovely mutuals @moreover-clover and @redley-of-many-noodles: i have seen your comments/messages and i appreciate your input, but ive decided im going to try not to take this project too seriously and just have fun with it rather than worry about how polished it is, so i think this is going to be a no beta project from here on out. thank you for the thoughtful commentary/critiques on part 1.1, and i do hope you continue to enjoy it <3

having said that, if anyone happens to notice glaringly obvious/simple typos that i could easily fix, or if any parts are just genuinely incomprehensible, feel free to point it out/ask for clarification if you want to}

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hermesserpent-stuff · 5 months

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Oooohhh, tell us about the httyd au!

So its been a little while since ive been able to watch the first HTTYD show, so the movies and race to the edge are my closest touch points of knowledge (and the books) so forgive the timelines a little.

Thanks for asking! Ideas under the cut!

The major things in this au is that Hiccup learned to speak dragonese through dragon watching and interactions after the fall of the Red Death. He spends a lot less time with the humans of Berk than in cannon, isolating a lot more. He would rather be amongst the dragons who are less confusing once he has had the time to interact with them than humans.

Hiccup and Toothless took up the place of leader in the nest after that fight. A lot in the nest jokingly take to calling Hiccup a noise that roughly translates to little Queen and toothless something like Queens wings. They get called leader neutrally, but the nicknames stick more and Toothless is forever calling Hiccup that in front of wild dragons.

There is a heavy element of scent based communication amongst dragons here, with hiccup smelling safe and like an adored leader because he spends so much of his time with the dragons of the nest. This makes other dragons quicker to trust him. So, hes a little op in the dragons loving him department.

The other riders talk to him still but he is not as close with them as in the shows. He stays an outsider.

Other tribes start to know that the Hooligans ride dragons but have a hard time doing anything similar. Hiccup often goes island to island to convince dragons to move and most wild dragons do. The whole archipelago experiences a sudden and noticeable drop in dragon raids because of this.

Skipping a few things and pushing onwards, we find a year or two later, hiccup is eager to fly further, and so is Toothless, who likes exploring. It is what the nightfury had been doing before being drawn into the Red Death’s nest. They have lieutenants that handle watching the nest as they go further afield. Hiccup hears of further markets and gets a map to the ship graveyard that had the dragon eye in race to the edge. Which makes hiccup go further to try to seek out new dragons.

He runs into dragon hunters and there are a few other changes and ideas rattling around. Dragon hunters think that he is a dragon! So thats all sorts of fun.

Uuhhh…. This is getting long but one last thing Im attached to! Viggo had an encounter with a nightfury long ago when he was like 10. Not a real close encounter, but it was the last instance of the hunters interacting with a nightfury in decades. And so he is endlessly fascinated that there is still one out there. Alive! ^_^ Let me know if you have anything specific I could elaborate on or if there is any other things youre wondering about.

#httyd #httyd au #claws and calls au #how to train your dragon #hiccup haddock #toothless #ask hermes #hermes speaks

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iersei · 1 month

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THANK YOU for being able 2 put it into words on that post..... despite s2 having so much of my favorite characters (terry jr and scary) i just... have struggled so hard with caring since the seasons been in full swing and it feels like the world in s2 isnt taken as like... genuinely enough i guess? and season two is very funny and entertaining but thats... all it is. any emotional arcs feel quickly forgotten & almost not at all drawn out and it feels like a mess with how often characters are just straight up forgotten,,, i love dndads and there was such a great setup for season two that i think just. fell flat in execution. even when nicky came back anthony admitted he called him nick Foster because he wasnt thinking at all about it and didnt care, and like. at a certain point even in a d&d setting you have to care about the characters youre making plot relevant at least a little bit, and suddenly the close family arc had nothing to do with season 1 and instead everything to do with stuff that happened completely offscreen (and again, once the dads were charting around with their kids they were often forgotten & added little to any scenes) just. it all got a little careless.

and im not caught up but ive heard about so much junk that happens in the... less than 10 episodes im behind on?? like i JUST got to the titanic part and it ends, what, 9 episodes later ??? i just wish it was more organized and theyd allowed themselves to like. take their time with things. i know the 20 or whatever episodes of glenns arc in s1 is known as 'too long' or super hard to get through but thats also how it made such an impact!! there was ALOT to get through and a lot happened to the close family. yet when alot happens in s2 its like, well that happened, and in an episode and a half it will never be mentioned again . even supporting npcs especially with a lot of potential dont stick around unlike characters like paeden or walter or even erin who got her own wrap up like. i dont remember the last time anyone even mentioned mae hails. yeah theres a degree that its messy and unorganized because thats how teenagers are but theres only so far that goes. and im pretty forgiving in d&d settings because 90% of what actually happens is up to random chance but theres a difference between 'this isnt good because im not actually writing it, and i dont have total control over this story' versus 'this isnt that good because we're not playing it that good'.

anyways. um. hero oak swallows garcia i hope i see you again soon 👍

I THOUGHT YOU HAD TO BE JOKING ABOUT HOW RECENT THE TITANIC WAS UNTIL I WENT BACK TO CHECK THE EPISODE LIST AND. NO. NO, YOU WEREN'T JOKING. THERE'S ONLY 10 EPISODES AFTER THE TITANIC IN THE WHOLE SEASON. WHAT THE FUCK.

these kids really never had any time to rest, and it's actively hurting the narrative tension to the point that i just want them to be left alone </3

i can't fucking believe that they didn't care enough about nicky's whole deal to not even think about the implications of everything that happened to him. that felt like it should've been a core aspect of his character! and they just didn't care!! about that aspect of his family dynamic!!

i think that, at the end of season 1, the close family and the oak family had dynamics where it was understandable for issues to pop up offscreen. and i do think the underlying threads made sense to a degree! but it was so thoroughly unexplored in both families that it just made even more of a mess and all the characters involved suffered for it.

and i'm gonna be honest. i completely forgot about mae hails. man. man.

they all deserved so much better.

#i've already talked a lot about the NPCs not getting their due #so i'm not gonna rehash my thoughts here #but i'm nodding along to all your points #sei says an answer #dysaniadisorder

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june-again · 9 months

Text

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER IV: envy.

chapter summary. in which Lumine has a nightmare, and discovers the source of her abrupt romanticism. in which tension builds and Childe is told a very personal bedtime story.

wc. 4.2k. genre. enemies to lovers, action/adventure.

table of contents / next chapter

In her dreams, Lumine had been reunited with Aether.

He was shrouded dark, haunting Abyss fog, a dark look in his eyes. They were in a dark ruin similar to the one she had last seen him in, but this time by her side was, of all people, Childe. In this dream, she understood that she had been travelling with Childe for some time. She had been to Snezhnaya with him, had seen wonders of the world with him, and had risked her life for him. And he, evidently, had helped her find her brother.

But in the haze of the dream the only thing she was sure of was that Aether did not want to return to her. She also knew from that look in his eyes that it was because of Childe.

“You’ve chosen the wrong side,” he seemed to say, and the Abyss Heralds on either side of him shrieked piercingly enough to shatter glass.

Waking firstly brought with it an ache in Lumine’s chest, feeling the scalding look from her twin upon herself and Childe from her dream. Secondly, she became conscious of the heavy warmth over her shoulders, where the Harbinger’s coat was still draped. Thirdly, she found that her chest was aching more now that a final realization had come over her.

Childe was gone.

She did not know how she knew this, since it was still so dark that such a conclusion could not be drawn by sight alone. Nor did or know it by scent or warmth, because wearing his coat shrouded evidence of his presence. It was a strange, frantic feeling in the front of her mind, in her throat, and in her chest.

Indeed, he was gone, she was quite sure. Logic stated that there was no audible sign of breathing other than her own. She reached out her arm to where she remembered him being as they fell asleep, but her hand could only reach cold air and rock wall.

Trying to shake off the initial fear of this, Lumine put her arms through the sleeves of the coat and fumbled with one of the clasps so that its oversizedness would not cause it to slip off of her. Again she was aware of its breezy, boyish smell. This time it did not put her off, but rather it comforted her. Thinking about it any further would change her mind on the matter, though. She set forth on the way down the ravine towards the purple-ish glow she had noticed before, using her hand on the wall as a guide forward.

Lumine was not sure why she was feeling this way. He was Fatui. He was disgusting. He was evil.

She recalled something he had asked her, right before they’d fallen further into this hell hole. “How many innocent soldiers have you bruised and broken simply because they opposed you?” he’d asked her.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but he had made an interesting point about how the order in which she had met those of the world would have affected her political alignment in this world. Certainly she wanted peace as much as anyone, but at the same time, she felt restless in it. This was one of the reasons she travelled the stars and the multiverse; this was her nature, to never sit still and never be comfortable.

It was true that Childe lived the same kind of life. It seemed that sometimes his actions were based upon instructions from the Cryo Archon, but other times they seemed to be of his own volition. He didn’t like to be used and blindsided, much like her.

Lumine rounded the corner, and now she could just barely hear the sound of distorted speech and scuffling shoes on gravel somewhere in the expanse of the violet rocks jutting out beneath the overturned tower ruins. There was enough light as she stepped out of the tunnel that she could see the steps before her. She welcomed the ability’s return and swore she’d never take it for granted again. It had been too long since she last ran and so she embraced the opportunity as she passed crumbling stone pillars and small clouds of black smoke. She was drawing closer to the sound of battle, and where battle was, she anticipated Childe to be too.

Wicked laughter from a Hydrogunner alerted her of the affair’s specifics, and she hastened to its source. She saw no camp, but only a stunned Pyroslinger lying on the ground of a path, and a Hydrogunner firing at, to her slight relief, a jacketless, jaded Harbinger. The Fatui Skirmisher either did not understand that he was ruthlessly attacking one of the near-omnipotent Harbingers, or he didn’t care. He clearly wasn’t holding back, in either case. Childe, on the other hand, was dodging more than Lumine had ever seen him do, and he seemed to be quite out of breath. He fired the occasional arrow, seeming only to be barely holding on as he kept to the ridge just above the path through the stalagmites.

Lumine realized that the Hydro shield was preventing him from making any progress. His vision was rendered useless in this duel. He might have used his Electro Delusion, but with his strength as diminished as it was, Lumine knew that wasn’t an option.

Lumine pushed up the right sleeve of the jacket up her arm, which had been hanging obtrusively due to its oversizedness. Then, she wasted no time in drawing her sword, summoning an Anemo tornado, and blasting it in the skirmisher’s direction. As the Hydrogunner took the hits, she finished him off with a Palm Vortex and a few slashes of her blade.

“Thank you, comrade!” Childe hopped from the ledge and hesitated, giving her a strange look as she gave the Skirmisher a rather spiteful blow across the mask with a swing of her heel. He stared at her, catching his breath, for several seconds before Lumine finally called him out for it.

“The hell you looking at, Harbinger?” she demanded, approaching him. With some effort she tore her eyes away from him. She had not seen him without his jacket before, nor ever nearly this disheveled. The shirt he wore was clinging to his torso, dampened by sweat, and he wore several belts across his midsection that were rather flattering to his figure. From under his collar peeked a chain of a necklace whose charm was hidden beneath the shirt. His hair, ruffled out of its usual place, had a few stray strands clinging to his glistening forehead.

“My… coat,” he said, and a smile finally reached his face. “You’re still wearing it.”

“Well, you’re the one that put it on me.”

“I know. But I certainly did not expect you to keep it on when you woke up, nor did I put your hands through the arms and clasp the front.”

Lumine fiddled with her sword, attempting to resume a natural composure. “Okay… and?”

“And? You look dazzling, comrade. You’re adorable in it.”

Lumine felt her ears catch fire and she quickly put her hands to the scarf’s tie to undo it so that she could return the jacket to him—and so that he would have no more opportunity to say such a thing. But Childe placed his hand over hers, stopping her.

“Ah—” he said, “you should keep it; I have a high tolerance for the cave chill.”

Lumine found herself to be frozen, only able to think about how much bigger his hand was than hers. The fear she had felt earlier about his absence was now replaced by comfort and significant gratification with his hand on her shoulder. And, well, she couldn’t argue with him, especially because she didn’t want to take off the coat.

He noticed her gaze and apologized with a brief smile, smoothing out some wrinkles in the scarf as if that’s what he was doing all along. His eyes were slightly wide, and averted.

“Why did you leave me?” she asked him, rather accusatively. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “You left me in the ravine. I could have stumbled back into the mud and died. I didn’t know whether you were going to come back.”

He gathered his brows. “I couldn’t sleep.” He looked up at her from under his lashes and tilted his head, looking no different than a pleading puppy. “I didn’t mean to go far..”

Lumine could feel her mouth form a pout as she held back a sudden surge of despair. “Don’t do that again, Harbinger.”

“I’m really sorry, traveler.” His voice was so soft, so genuine, that it was making her chest ache all over again. It was both an unwelcome and desperately needed sound. “I meant to come back in time for you to wake up, so that I could give you a plan for what direction we should take. Falling down here wasn’t part of my plan so I was hoping to give you something to go on.”

Lumine huffed, swiping a tear from her eye as nonchalantly as she could manage. “Why were they attacking you like that?”

Childe shrugged, leaning against the ridge on the side of the path. “Like earlier, these boys didn’t believe me when I had to tell them who I am, and in this pathetic state of frailness, it was really hard to prove it. Something was off with them. It was like they barely knew who they were and what they were fighting for.”

“Is it because of how long they’ve spent down in this pit?”

“But they haven’t spent very long. Only a few weeks, maybe a couple months. My thinking is that it’s…” He gestured to the immense ruined towers hanging from the cave ceiling, and the purple decay beneath them. “The Chasm. Specifically what happened here years ago.”

“Whatever that was.”

“Yes, whatever that was. My thinking is that it’s cursed—or at least, infectious—to the point where reason gives way for radical confusion in the minds of those who linger.”

Lumine let the words settle in her mind, and then her eyes widened.

It was the Chasm, she thought.

The Chasm was causing her to feel all these things for the man who was her enemy, causing her to worry for him and feel empty without him. The Chasm, she realized, must be simulating her feelings of infatuation that she would not reasonably feel.

Initially she felt relieved by this idea, knowing that she was insane to be looking at the Eleventh Harbinger in this way. But terror quickly replaced it, for a plethora of reasons. She realized now that she had become infatuated with the Harbinger, very much and very quickly. Such emotion, however unwelcome, was hard to control and harder to ignore. This implied that the curses lurking in the depths of this wretched cave had that much power over her very own motivations.

“Do you think that makes sense, comrade?” Childe asked her, seemingly unaware of the implications he had released upon her mind.

Lumine nodded. She wondered, from both her actualizing understanding and her overwhelming curiosity, whether it was affecting Childe in the same way—but quickly remembered that he had already favoured her in a way she had not him; whether fancying her or not, he would not have had as far to go to feel the severity what she was feeling now. If it was affecting him, was he experiencing… more infatuation than her?

She could not bring herself to imagine it. She both hated and loved the idea.

“Either way,” Childe continued, still talking of the Fatui’s behaviour, “I do think we should avoid any incidents like that as we’re on our way. Until I’ve recovered more of my strength, of course.”

“And how long will that take?” she asked, still unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh, at this rate… a few days.”

“A few days,” she repeated. She paused. “How long have we been down here?”

“By the cycles of the sun, three days,” he said. “Approximately. Just a guess. Maybe four.”

“We’ve slept twice.” She hesitated. “Well, I’ve slept once.”

“And I none,” he said with a small laugh.

Lumine raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He waved his hand at her. “I’ve gone much longer without sleep on other missions.”

Lumine scoffed. “You call this a mission?”

He blinked at her, and then ran his hand through his hair. “I think the Chasm is getting to me.” He gave a short laugh, but Lumine was unsure whether he was really joking. She hoped he was. She did not want to discuss the possibilities.

“Or your lack of sleep is,” she reminded him, gazing down the path to a place it seemed to narrow into a lower-roofed corridor. “Do we have to stay long in this area? It’s giving me the creeps.”

Childe stretched and stood. “We’ll go that way. If I’m right about where we are, then that should actually take us in just the right direction.”

—

Lumine found that for several hours she could not speak. Her mind was muddied with confusion. Partially, she was caught in a loop of questing which of her thoughts were her own. But she also felt, again, unsafe at Childe’s side. She was debating the possibility of him leading her down here on purpose—for whatever reason, wanting to scramble her mind so that she could not think straight.

They had entered the smaller passage, which seemed to be a road once popular in ancient days. Along the sides of it were stone pillars made to decorate and perhaps support the cave roof. On some of the walls, she could see, though not understand, some forgotten murals of a strange script, lit by the dimly glowing vines growing over them. The whole area was dimly lit, but lit enough that she could trust each step.

The Chasm was beginning to feel more oppressing with its shrouded histories and unspoken curses. Darkness was more than a haze; it was obscurity mocking her thoughts and feelings and time slipping through her fingers as they walked step after step and hour after hour.

She did not try to make conversation with Childe. She feared that she would say something to give her emotions away. She did prepare for attempts he might put forth into conversation—but was slightly shocked that he made none. They were as silent as the cave around them.

Lumine wondered if she was imagining some hesitation from Childe. As they came across a hilichurl camp—the monsters of which seemed notably overpowered and had an ominous glow—he fought without a word and without a laugh. She did not even see him crack a smile. At first she thought it might be because of the pain he was in from transforming and expending so much power, but knowing Childe, there was more to it. She hated it. It was like he was plotting, or demoralizing, in unnatural silence.

Again she thought it could be the curse of The Chasm. If The Chasm could make her infatuated with her arch enemy, perhaps it could shut him up for a few hours. And yet this explanation did not satisfy her. Concurrently, though, she refused to ask and refused to comment on it.

—

Childe and Lumine passed through an area with a higher ceiling and some abandoned mining structures and crates. Not too much further along the passage, the floor disappeared. A tunnel drove deep into the ground. They could not see any sign of a floor, even after Childe conjured his elemental lantern. Lumine thought it looked endless.

“Well! That’s our road,” Childe declared.

Lumine could have easily trekked down to its unperceived depths with her glider had she not been with Childe. The idea of doing such a thing alone was intimidating. How strange it was to have a companion that didn’t float!

“It feels like we’re just going deeper in,” Lumine muttered, crossing her arms.

“Fear not, comrade! I think we’re getting close!” He brandished his finger out, pointing into the cave’s expansive darkness. Though she knew he could see a bit more than she could, the statement was neither encouraging nor comforting.

“‘Close’ to the lowest point in all of Teyvat?” she sneered. Finally, she was feeling capable of talking to him without her words somehow giving her away. Maybe she had been overreacting earlier, but she was glad she’d held herself back while in that condition.

“Hardly! No, but we’re close to the target. But we had better rest here.”

As they set up a place to rest on one of the abandoned mining structures, Lumine sighed. “You better gimme a cut of the reward.”

Childe leaned against the cave wall and stretched his shoulders against it. “If you want Mora, you could have asked me for it ages ago. I have quite the savings, you know.”

“I know that. I didn’t think it was Mora, Childe. But there’s something up with this bounty, and I intend to get involved with it.”

“Didn’t know you were that kind.” Childe smirked. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes for long, she noticed. “You after some rare treasure? Is that the influence of that imp you travel with?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I just think I should be compensated for my time.”

He laughed heartily. “Oh, comrade. Ha! If only that was how it worked. You know, you weren’t forced to come down here with me. You can be responsible for your own choices. Though I can’t blame you for seeing an opportunity for adventure and taking it.” He paused. “I think you should stop calling me by my codename, by the way. You calling me ‘Childe’ is… it’s stiff.”

“Why should I care?”

“I just don’t like hearing it from you, traveller. It doesn’t suit our relationship, you know. Especially with how you feel about the Fatui.”

“It doesn’t suit our relationship?” she asked.

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“Well,” she considered, adjusting the red scarf of the jacket, “should I call you Tartaglia instead?”

“Yes, I suppose you could. Though that isn’t my name, either.”

“It isn’t?” She shouldn’t be surprised. But there was little she knew about him, and of this she had needed the reminder.

“Would you… like to know the name my father gave me?”

Lumine told herself she was not curious, but her facial expression gave the truth away to him.

He smiled. “My father used to tell me stories of heroes. Sometimes they were about himself, and sometimes about others that he, and later I, admired. I was named after one of the latter.”

“And what is that name?” She studied his face, part of her wondering what “heroes” were to Snezhnayans. Furthermore, she found herself speculating on what name could suit him better than Tartaglia.

“The name’s Ajax.” He took a deep breath as if he was preparing for her response.

Lumine turned the name over in her mind. “Ajax,” she repeated slowly. He didn’t respond immediately, and so Lumine turned her head to see his expression. She had not anticipated seeing his eyes widened back at her and his cheeks dusted with a little more pink than usual. “It’s Ajax, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I—” He broke into a wide smile. “I like how you say it.”

“Am I saying it wrong?”

He shook his head, still smiling to himself. “Not at all. I just haven’t had someone call me that in a long time.” She wondered if he was thinking of his family. “Please refer to me as that from now on, comrade.”

She sucked air through her teeth, tentative about her response. “Then—then you should stop calling me ‘comrade.’ I’m no Fatui.”

“Ha! Then you’ll tell me your name too, mysterious traveller?”

“I guess so.” She found herself also taking a deep breath. She met many people on her journeys and not all of them were willing to ask for her name. In this case, however… she was the one who was hesitant to give it. “My name’s Lumine. And my brother is Aether, though you didn’t ask.” She felt obligated to add on the second part following the dream she had last night. She must not forget her twin in all of this.

Tartaglia did not speak for a moment. His mouth fell open, and then curved into a curious smile. “I should have known,” he finally mused.

She gazed at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Your name is beautiful, Lumine. I have not heard it before, but it suits you.”

Lumine nodded. “Thanks. I think.”

“But Aether is a name I have heard before.”

“It is?” Lumine sat up straight. She had been desperate for any sort of intel on her twin, and even after being disappointed over and over again in her journeys through Mondstadt and Liyue, she had hope. She also thought that both The Chasm and the Eleventh Harbinger were very disconnected from the rest of her quests, and so maybe, maybe, he would know something. Or perhaps the dark of the Chasm had revealed it to him…

“Last night, while you were sleeping, you started crying. I couldn’t get you to wake up. You started saying his name—Aether’s name—and… you were yelling ‘no’.”

Lumine’s heart stopped.

“I’m really sorry if I crossed a line last night, but all I could do was just hold you and try to soothe you. You did calm down eventually, and that’s when I left the ravine to clear my head. I’ll admit… I was sort of wondering who he was. I didn’t put two and two together.” He laughed, seemingly to himself. “Thought he might be a lover of yours.”

Her eyes were huge as she tried to form a response. Her lips felt dry, and she wet them with her tongue before she finally said, rather simply, “I was having a nightmare.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Childe said with a chuckle. “Do you… want to talk about it, Lumine?”

“I’d rather not.” Lumine did want to talk about it, but she never spoke of her nightmares to anyone, and the Eleventh Harbinger wouldn’t be an exception. This was necessitated by his involvement in the dream’s circumstances… and the rather humiliating sleep-talking, too.

“I promise I won’t judge. I get a lot of nightmares, too.”

“How do you get a lot of nightmares if you barely sleep?”

Childe laughed. “I think you know the answer.”

Lumine fumbled with the sleeves of her coat. “You’re not going to recover any of your strength if you don’t sleep.”

“Nah, I will. It will just take longer.”

She huffed. “I can stay up this time if that will make you feel like you can sleep. You need rest, Harbinger.”

Childe’s lips curled mischievously.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” Lumine demanded.

“Hey, I was only going to ask you to tell me a bedtime story! Tch, girlie. You really think I’m that much of a scumbag?”

She scoffed. “A bedtime story? Are you five?”

“Here, look.” He leaned back, crossed his arms, and shut his eyes. “Promise I won’t interrupt. Tell me something exciting.”

Lumine eyed his persisting smile and sighed. He had mentioned that his father used to tell him stories when he was young, so it didn’t feel like the request was out of nowhere. Still…

“Okay…” she acquiesced. “I’ll… I’ll think of something.”

She racked her brain for something that wouldn’t be dangerous for a Fatuus to know about. She wondered if she should tell him about her adventures in Mondsadt with Venti and the knights—or maybe the battle of Osial following the duel in the Golden House. But she realized she could be sure of nothing of her journey through Teyvat being safe to explain, and so instead she started to tell him of her adventures with Aether in the adventures before Teyvat.

She spoke of battles, magic, Gods, and men that nobody in Teyvat knew of. She spoke of loss, of hope, and of progress. Of worlds in which they had been honored as heroic kings and queens, and worlds in which they had been looked down upon and shut out. And she told him that Aether and her had always managed to find each other if their exploits separated them.

Lumine finally went quiet, realizing how much and how long she had talked by the dryness of her mouth. The last time she had spoken this much was distant in her memory. She also realized that Childe now knew the most about her of anyone in all of Teyvat. Perhaps he knew more about her than her own brother, if he indeed hadn’t fallen asleep.

He hadn’t.

“Tell me more,” he whispered, eyes still closed, but comment suspiciously immediate in breaking the silence.

So she told him more.

author’s note. what do you guys think she told ajax? :) also oopsies i can't have them sulk for too long because when the only two characters in a story aren't talking to each other it is very hard to write anything at all as i have learned

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

#a chasmic mistake.#chilumi #favoniuslibrary #genshin fanfic #tartaglia fluff #genshin series #childe fic #genshin impact lumine #tartaglia x lumine #childe x lumine #tartaglia x traveler #ajax x lumine #genshin x traveler #childe #lumine #tartaglia #im so normal about this fic (crying screaming throwing up)

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