EHEHEHEHE

Decided to change some stuff up about my story as I've been super unsatisfied with it for the longest time now (and I'm super slow at even sharing my story anyway😭) For anyone curious, Second Chance AU mainly focuses on Narinder and the twins who now roam the Lands of Old Faith after being freed from limbo. However, they eventually find themselves in a completely different universe than the ones they were originally in, with everyone acting the same except for the gods and ex-bishops whom are aware of timelines breaking apart. In addition, Tandem Gods are what I like to call the Death and Wisdom crown bearers, or the Lamb and Goat of this universe. However, they swapped roles in this world and also have their own problems to deal with. They've vowed to help each other and work through their broken environment.. until their relationship eventually blooms into something more. In a way they're all being given a second chance, hence the name.

“Those friends of yours aren’t going to change their minds about you overnight,” he supplies, sounding positively matter-of-fact about it. If he had the lips for it they’d surely be pressed into a thin line right about now, with forehead wrinkles to match. “Rather than waste time with their cute attempt at barricading you from all the fun, I say we make our own fun — right out here!”

The glance over your shoulder is wary at best. “I don’t know…” you mutter. “Is it really a good idea to be outside right now? I mean, with what happened to Chet—”

“You aren’t in any danger,” he interrupts. Clearing his voicebox, he slows down a pace and decides to clarify. “What I mean is that I’ll keep you safe,” he says. “I won’t let anyone hurt a single fuzzy hair, bunny. You’re all mine for the night!”

You think the smile he finishes with is meant to be reassuring, but it’s not. Neither is that remark, really, but you’re not about to start questioning his wording now of all times when he’s said weirder things already.

“Besides,” Sun continues, “I know just the spot.”

Hearing this, you expect to be brought back to his cabin, but when he instead decidedly walks you right past it your mind begins to wander in every direction (none of them good) for just where oh where he could be taking you. Thankfully, your answer hangs a short matter of footfalls away.

“A hammock?” You follow Sun’s gaze towards the ratty old thing, which somehow looks even more worse for ware up close. Its pale color bites into the bark of two trees that appear to have been gnawed at for some years now, providing you with a very clear picture for just how long the ropes have been resting there.

“The hammock,” he corrects, beaming with unfounded pride. “This bundle of knots could hold a whole cabin of campers back in the day.”

“And now?” You shoot it a wary look, distrust written all over your face. 

Nevertheless, Sun regards you with nothing but confidence. “Try it for yourself!” He insists. Before that, though, he takes a firm hold of one side and gives it a good, hearty shake. Both of you elect to ignore the cloud of dust that arises from it.

The hammock, now looking two shades paler than before, greets you like the open and expectant arms of an old relative that always smells of too much perfume and holds on for a little too long. You would hate to disappoint him, of course, so what other choice do you have?

It sags immediately, groaning under your weight, but thankfully holds fast. That alone defies expectations already. 

“Go on,” Sun encourages. He’s far too giddy about this for your liking. “Give it a proper lie-down. You want the full experience!”

Do you, though?

The old knots pinch at your sides as you reluctantly find your way onto your back, wincing as the body of rope whines and sinks further towards the ground. Then comes the hardest part; your left leg swings into the hammock all at once, like you’re mounting a horse. All that’s left is for your right leg — that is, your only remaining source of balance — to follow. You steel yourself, preparing a breath, and your foot leaves the ground.

The hammock rolls, inevitably, spitting you out like tough gristle. You brace for cold earth but are instead caught in Sun’s doting arms like he’d been expecting this. It wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t land a warm breath’s distance from his face.

“Oopsie-daisy!” giggles Sun, all but beaming down at you like you’re no different from the trophy sized crappie he’d caught just that morning. “This thing can be so fickle, sometimes. The kids got a real kick out of its spirit, but nobody could ever tame the thing good and proper. I should have warned you, but — well, where’s the fun in that?”

If you were anywhere else you’d have stomped your foot like — well, like a rabbit, actually, but as it stands you’re too close for comfort, and still cradled some feet off the ground, to boot. It’s all you can do just to exchange nervous laughter as he finally, thankfully, sets you back on your own two feet.

“Oh, I have an idea!” He chimes. “Why don’t I get in first?”

You dust the strings of loose rope from your clothes and try to ignore the implications of what he’s suggesting. “Actually, Sun, I think it might be better if I head back to the others—”

“Nonsense! Here, look at this!”

He collapses into the heap of fiber like a child, trusting that the old hammock will hold his weight just fine and, somehow, miraculously, it does just that. Groans of strained rope aside, of course.

When all but one of his feet are inside, Sun turns, angling his face so the rays on his head aren’t caught between rope, and beckons you forward.

“See, easy as pie,” he tells you. “Now get over here!”

“Sun, I don’t think—”

“It’ll hold,” he assures you. What’s more, he ushers you towards him with a wave of his hand. His other hand, to your utmost embarrassment, eagerly pats at his lap.

For one small, short-lived moment, you wrestle with the idea of letting the campground killer get to you instead. Handing over the knife for your own gutting would be less nerve wracking than this.

It seems you’ve run out of time, however, and Sun has run out of patience, because you’re grabbed at without a second thought and hauled into the hammock, leaving you no time to overthink the matter until you’re up against him, chest to chest, hip to hip, red cheek to smug grin.

Sun has the gall to snicker as his foot leaves the ground to join you, and the hammock sways, forcing you to hold on to rope and metal and hope like you’re going to be flung to the ground a second time.

But you don’t. Opening your eyes one wary squint at a time, you find that Sun has you, the hammock, and himself for that matter all perfectly balanced. It swings with a slow, casual lull.

“See?” His arm pries itself from your iron grip long enough to boop you in the nose. “Silly little thing. You should learn to trust me, I think.”

You nod. Then nod again. A quick and shaky motion that makes up for the lack of a functioning tongue when your world still feels like it’s spinning. Now more than ever.

“Relaaaaaax, bunny.” His hand drifts above your head and out of sight. Cold, metal fingers sneak beneath your hair to curl over the back of your neck, and he brings you down, down, down, gentle as can be, until your cheek is flush against his chest. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, hm?” He awaits your nod, smile widening when he receives it without any fuss. “Rest, then. I’ll watch over you all night if you’d like.”

Following a deep breath, you somehow rediscover your words, small as they may be. “Is it really safe?”

He tucks you closer, wrapping his free hand around your waist. The warmth in his plating, contrasting the cold, nipping air, is enough on its own to have your eyes drooping already. To your right the creek flows, a distant and calming lull. Crickets sing lullabies between the trees. Beneath your ear, the telltale whir of a fan hums like a heartbeat.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispers, voice stirring your hair.

Ultimately, the heaviness in your bones makes the decision for you, and all warning bells fall on tired, deaf ears as you allow yourself to fully slump into his arms. The dust that clings to his chassis and the quiet, lulling hum tucked in the back of his throat wraps you in feelings of security. You’re content to let him have his way, if only for the night.