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marragurl · 7 months ago

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Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own #marrapost

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squishy-squishy · 8 months ago

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Hey can you do a toh tickle fanfiction for me please you know about watching and dreaming with Luz's nightmare instead of Amity, Gus, Hunter and Willow fighting Luz thay tickle Luz.

I FINISHED IT! I apologize for such a long wait, I am so bad at getting things done, but ITS HERE! This was a fun write, even though I could only get it done chunk by chunk over a long amount of time. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request!

Summary: Luz realizes she’s having a nightmare and the Collector is not happy about it. He decides to take his anger out in a childish way.

Luz could feel her heart hammering in her ears as she stood on the bridge outside the Emperor’s palace. This couldn’t be happening! This wasn’t right!

Dressed in Belos’s clothing, she stood before her friends. Their eyes were empty, devoid of any sympathy or care for her. Willow, Gus, Hunter, and her beloved Amity. They all hated her. Luz was certain of it, and she was certain she deserved it.

“I’m sorry.” She said simply, lacking any real sorrow. “But for the sake of everyone you hurt,”

“Please, no!” Hot tears welled in Luz’s eyes like lava. She couldn’t even bring herself to say that it wasn’t her fault. She took a step back and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to be hit by a glob of abomination goo, or a spiked vine.

“I challenge you to a witch’s battle!” Witch’s battle?

Luz peeked one eye open. “W-wait… say that again?”

“I said, I challenge you to a witch’s battle!”

Amity’s tone didn’t change at all when she repeated the phrase. It was robotic, as if the response had been programmed into her to say it exactly the same every time. She didn’t move from her defensive, fighting stance.

“Witch’s… battle?”

She hesitantly approached her girlfriend, then gingerly squished her pretty face in her hands. “Bep.” She playfully flicked her ears. “Boop.”

She observed how Amity didn’t respond, and her fears began to melt away and were quickly replaced by a fuzzy feeling. She lifted up Amity’s arm and poked her, like she was a doll she could position and pose.

“You look like Amity, you feel like Amity, but you’re not Amity, are you?”

Luz’s face broke into a smile as she stepped back. Of course something was weird!

“Ha! You’re not her! None of you are you!”

“How dare you? Of course we’re us!” Willow spoke, but she barely moved.

“It’s, ‘I challenge you to a witch’s duel,’ not battle!” She waved her finger at them, her confidence quickly returning. “And the Amity I know would never misquote The Good Witch Azura!”

She took a step back and smiled, Stringbean formed a staff in her hands.

“So come on, attack me. I know what’s going on now.” She watched as her friends readied themselves, charging right at her. She closed her eyes, waiting for the first hit, and- “No, no NO!” A childish voice echoed around the bridge. Luz opened her eyes, and her friends were frozen in place. Glowing wires were wrapped around their wrists and ankles, like they were little puppets. Floating above them all, was a very grumpy looking Collector. He had his arms crossed and was glaring down at the group with a pout. “You weren’t supposed to figure it out! This isn’t fair!”

“Collector?!”

“What am I supposed to do now?! Oh, you’re probably so angry with me!” They floated in circles and flipped himself upside down while clutching his hat.

Luz’s eyes wandered from the Collector to her friends. They were starting to come out of their trance, and their eyes were shining again.

Suddenly, he was right next to Luz. He dramatically flopped onto her shoulder, nearly knocking her over. “You aren’t angry with me, right? For trying to scare you?”

“Uhm…” She quickly glanced at her friends, who were all giving her very hesitant looks. “No?”

“Really?” The Collector’s eyes lit up. Then they scowled. “Cause I’m still pretty mad at you for screwing up my fun!” “W-well, there’s other ways to have fun!” Luz stammered. She backed away from him, in between all her friends. “Like, um, maybe instead of scaring people, you should try making them laugh!”

The Collector tapped his finger to his chin a couple times. Then slowly, his lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Hm… y’know what, human? I think you’re right!” He snapped his fingers, and Luz’s friends went limp. The light in their eyes faded along with the glowing wires. The Collector giggled rather deviously and clapped his hands a few times. Luz’s friends sprang to attention, and grabbed her all at once.

“H-Huh?! What are you-”

“And I’ve got the perfect way to do it! Get her!”

Luz wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to happen, but feeling the skittering, tickling fingers of all four of her friends definitely wasn’t it! She made a noise that was akin to a startled seagull, which quickly dissolved into confused giggling.

“What in the wohohorld?! Collector! Cuhuhuhit out!”

“Man, you mortals can never make up your minds, huh?” The Collector floated over to her, hovering inches away from her face. Personal space wasn’t much of a concern for a child of the stars. “First you want me to make you laugh, then you want me to stop? Come on, we’re having so much fun! You’re laughing aren’t you?”

Those dang fingers were everywhere! Poking at her sides and belly, scribbling up and down her neck and around her ears, Luz could barely focus on just one spot! Every time she’d flail in an attempt to protect herself, they’d just get her somewhere else.

“This- this isn’t whahahat I meant whehehen I said- EEK! NOHOHO!”

Nails that unmistakably belonged to Amity made Luz’s sentence crumble when they spidered up her sides and into the hollows of her underarms. If it weren’t for her friends all holding her steady, she was certain her legs would’ve just given up.

The Collector just laughed right along with her. “Man, you were right! Making people laugh is way more fun than scaring them! Just listen to all the silly noises you make!” “COLLEHEHECTOR!” “That’s meeee! Hey! I should try this on your other friends, too! I’ll be back!” They clapped their hands, and they vanished in a puff of sparkly purple smoke. Luz was much too busy laughing her head off to even realize where he had gone, or what he had meant by that. It wasn’t like the feeling was bad, she’d always enjoyed tickle fights as a way of bonding or cheering someone up, but this was ridiculous! And not to mention the fact that it was turning her mind to mush! It couldn’t get much worse than this-

“Your laugh is just so sweet, I could listen to it forever!”

Nevermind. It could.

Amity had leaned over to coo teasing compliments in her ear. It had caught Luz so off guard her knees buckled and her friends all shifted to keep her up.

“WAIHAIT! Nohoho, Amity, please! You know I cahahan’t take it-” “But it’s true!” Man, the Collector had really gotten her friends' personalities down. And it only became more abundant when the rest of them started teasing too. “Come on, Luz! I know you’re tougher than that!” Willow giggled as she kneaded Luz’s side at a steady rythm, making her squeal “You can take it!” Gus had a different tactic, constantly switching spots and jumping around so Luz could never tell where he was going to strike next. “Where’s the spot that makes her laugh the most again? Is it here- or here- or maybe heeeere?” “Man, if only I had known about this little weakness of yours when we were still enemies.” Hunter had a smug mischief in his voice that just dripped with the cockiness of an older brother messing with his younger sister. It reminded Luz of how he acted when they first met. “You would have been done for! Would’ve made our fights go by a lot faster, huh?”

That was really about all Luz could take. Her loud laughter was starting to turn into wheezes, and her friends finally let up. She sunk to the ground and curled up in a ball, still tingling with phantom tickles. “Collector… thahat… phew…” She looked up when she felt Amity’s comforting hand on her shoulder, and realized something she hadn’t before.

They had that light in their eyes. They had it since the Collector had disappeared!

“H-hey wait a minute! You’re you! Really you! You were tickling me on PURPOSE!” “Sorry…” Amity said with a giggle “I couldn’t help it, you’ve just been so down recently, we haven’t heard you laugh like that in so long.”

“You really needed it.” Willow said, crouching down next to her. “Seriously. And you better believe the nice things we said about you, or else.” Hunter tazed her side, earning him a loud squeak.“You guys are-”

But there wasn’t much time for Luz to finish. Her friends gasped when the puppet strings seized them again, jerking their limbs away from her.

“There’s no time to waste!” Shouted Gus. “You need to stop the Collector, you need to wake up!”

“Wait, but how?!”

Amity used the last of her strength to press a familiar glyph into Luz’s hand and offer her a warm smile.

“You turn on the light.”

#sfw tickles #tickle fic #toh tickles #lee!luz #ler!hexsquad #ler!amity #ler!gus #ler!willow #ler!hunter #ler!collector?#just wholesome vibes here #squishy fics

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