#He can be himself around Gus without worrying that it will cause the rest of his family to think less of him. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sdvvillagers · 3 years

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Fic - Gus

Word Count: 4,475

Summary: Gus has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Notes: Thank you to @purpleandgreen13 (purpleandgreen on AO3) for coming up with this prompt, it was such a fun and inspiring one to work with! You’re the best! ^.^

From the moment Gus woke up, he should have known that today was going to be an awful day. Water dripped from the ceiling of his room, plopping onto his forehead and waking him with a start. The rainstorm forecasted for the day had begun, revealing a leak in the roof that Gus hadn’t known was there until the rain unceremoniously woke him from his slumber. After clambering out of bed in shock and confusion, Gus wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked upward as another drop of rain landed right in his eye.

“Son of a-,” Gus mumbled, giving himself a wide berth from the bed to avoid getting wet any further.

His sheets had already soaked up some of the moisture, but the last thing he needed was a soaking wet mattress. Gus rushed to the storage room to grab an empty bucket to collect as much rain water as he could until Robin could come by to fix his roof. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long or else he’d be back and forth all day dumping the bucket. It was expected to rain heavily all day long.

The next sign that Gus’ day would be terrible arrived only moments later when Gus stepped on a small puddle of water that had dripped onto the floor, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward. He slammed his back hard against the footboard of his bed, causing him to yelp out in pain. His already bad back was now throbbing in pain. Wincing, Gus rose from the floor and hobbled across the room to at least change out of his wet pajamas and into something warm and dry.

Upon opening his closet, Gus reached for a plain t-shirt and his favorite orange jacket. It wasn’t until the jacket was on and he reached down to zip it up that he noticed the huge rip in the sleeve of his jacket. It was likely Emily could mend it for him, but it was another rough blow to his already awful morning. Gus elected for one of his lesser preferred jackets instead.

Being awake far earlier than he was used to, Gus shuffled out of his room into the kitchen of the saloon. Usually he wouldn’t wake up until almost lunch time due to being up late every night for his business, but with the rain waking him up so early, he figured he would at least fix himself a meal. It wasn’t often he ate breakfast anyway, so treating himself to a complete breakfast and a glass of homemade orange juice seemed a decent enough consolation prize. Robin’s shop wouldn’t even open for another twenty minutes anyway.

Gus stepped into the walk-in refrigerator in the kitchen and began pulling the ingredients he needed to make his breakfast. Once he had everything in-hand, he turned to leave and heard a high-pitched squeak. For a moment, it sounded like a mouse. It was enough of a distraction for Gus to momentarily forget where he was or what he was doing and the armful of ingredients he was carrying fell to the floor as Gus accidentally dropped them. The squeak, it turned out, came from a squeaky floorboard he had stepped on and wasn’t a rodent at all. Gus almost wished it was, at least it would have justified his flustered response. Instead, all he was left with was no ingredients for breakfast and a huge mess to clean while his back was out of sorts.

It took over a half hour for Gus to completely clean up the spill, the cracked eggs seeped down into every crevice and cranny of the walk-in fridge. Not to mention, it was a very chilly ordeal to clean a mess inside of such a cold space. Gus had lost all track of time while he was cleaning the mess in the fridge and all thoughts of calling Robin to repair his roof had left his mind until the job was done. By the time he realized it, he glanced at the clock and saw that she’d been open for fifteen minutes already. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Hello there, you’ve reached the Bennetts!” Demetrius’ voice answered cheerfully when Gus finally picked up the phone to call.

“Hey Demetrius, I’m in a bit of a bind,” Gus began, getting right to his point. There was no time for pleasantries today. “The roof of the saloon is leaking. Right over my bed, actually. Any chance Robin can head out here and fix it? I’ve got a bucket under there right now until she can make it.”

“Oh no, I wish I could say she could but she’s actually out of the house right now,” Demetrius answered apologetically. “Her parents called her first thing this morning, her father is ill and she needed to head out to help her mother.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Gus replied sincerely. As unfortunate as his situation was, he really was sorry to hear that there were health issues in Robin’s family. It was a situation where Gus couldn’t in all conscience be mad at Robin for being unavailable despite his desperation.

Once he hung up with Demetrius, Gus heaved a long, heavy sigh. Someone in town had to be able to help him, there was no way he could put it off. There weren’t many other people in town Gus could think to ask, but he started at the top of the list and worked his way down. Sebastian seemed like a decent possibility given that his mother was the very woman Gus needed for the job, but Seb made it quite clear that he had nothing to do with her work at all. Shane was next on the list, he was actually quite the handyman, but the call went straight to voicemail. Gus had to assume he was working at Joja today and had his phone silenced. Alex at the very least was strong, but as Gus suspected he had no knowledge of how to fix a leaky roof. Gus was even desperate enough to call Lewis who had been the town’s handyman before he was mayor, but of course his old age made him too hesitant to help Gus out. Not that Gus could blame him, of course, but it was maddening how limited his options were. He’d have to call a company in Grampleton or even in the city which would end up costing him at least triple what Robin would charge.

One very expensive phone call later, Gus managed to get an appointment with a roofer from Grampleton for 4:00pm , right when the dinner rush would be starting. As anticipated, the flat fee was already more expensive, plus additional fees for travel and late notice. Until they arrived, Gus would have to keep shuffling buckets around to catch as much water as he could.

By the time the roofer was sorted, Gus realized that there wasn’t much time left until the saloon opened at noon for lunch. Having dropped a substantial amount of ingredients earlier in the morning, Gus knew a trip to Pierre’s was necessary. It wasn’t far to Pierre’s store but in this rainstorm, Gus knew he’d need every protection even for such a short walk. After another trip to his room for his raincoat, rain boots, and umbrella, Gus was ready to face the elements. With his back still aching, Gus crossed town square slowly and carefully towards Pierre’s shop. The last thing he needed was to try and rush to get out of the rain and fall once more. He chuckled to himself at the thought that Doctor Harvey would commend him for choosing safety first.

The trip to Pierre’s was just as frustrating as the rest of his morning had been. It took him quite some time just to get out of his wet rain gear and Pierre snapped at him for leaving a puddle by the entrance even though it wasn’t exactly something he could help in a rainstorm. Pierre’s selection wasn’t great either, he was out of stock on a few ingredients that Gus needed so Gus would have to tweak his menu slightly to accommodate. He knew he would get an earful that night when Shane couldn’t order pepper poppers. When Gus went to checkout, he realized he’d forgotten his money at home in his rush and had to practically beg Pierre to let him pay at a later time without having to go all the way back for his money. It wasn’t until he started to remind Pierre of his own ongoing tab at the saloon, within earshot of Caroline, that Pierre quickly shushed him and agreed that Gus could stop by the following day to pay for the groceries.

The short walk home was plagued with its own difficulties. Gus had three bags of groceries and with one hand holding his umbrella, the other had to carry three full shopping bags while trying to keep them dry under the umbrella. By the time he arrived back at the saloon, his hand was aching from carrying the weight of the groceries which had gotten slightly wet despite his best efforts. Even Gus himself had gotten wet, the jacket he’d put on that morning had a drenched collar and water had gotten into his rain boots and soaked his socks through. Another change of clothes for the day.

Lunch prep went fine enough other than a small slice of a finger while chopping onions. On any other day Gus would consider it a terrible misfortune but today, it was nothing compared to everything else that had happened so far. It wasn’t serious enough to warrant a visit to Doctor Harvey, thank goodness. Nothing a bandage couldn’t fix. It did make the rest of his lunch prep awkward and it certainly hurt, but the pain at least distracted him a bit from his aching back.

Because of the rain, the lunch “rush” wasn’t exactly a rush at all, which was fine with Gus on a day like today. Only a few people stopped by for lunch, mostly to-go orders. Ordinarily he’d feel bored with nothing to do or worried by a lack of paying customers, but he welcomed the chance to take a break after his busy morning. His back was still aching from his fall and his finger throbbed uncomfortably under its bandage. The worst he could say about the lunch crowd was that any time a customer entered the saloon, it meant drying the rain puddles left behind in their wake once they left. Of course there was also the constant back and forth from the bar to his room to switch out buckets, a task he had to do almost every thirty minutes.

At 3:30 he could hear the door of the saloon open while he was in his bedroom, switching out yet another bucket under the leaky roof. By now his back was on fire from the constant back and forth, lifting heavy buckets, and mopping up the puddles of water in his room and at the entrance of the saloon. When he heard the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief knowing that help was on the way. It was no doubt Emily arriving for her evening shift. Gus was hoping she could take on a bit of the work tonight to give him some reprieve. If he could manage to only get away with cooking for the night, he’d be happy. Yet when Gus reentered the saloon, he was surprised to find Haley standing near the doorway looking around for him.

“Oh, there you are!” Haley huffed, sounding incredibly impatient and irritated. “Honestly, we thought you were dead, you haven’t answered your phone all day.”

While Haley stood in the entrance, arms folded in annoyance, Gus rushed over to his phone to see what was the matter. He didn’t have a cell phone as he’d never really had a need for one so he relied on a landline at the bar for any of his phone calls. Gus groaned when he noticed he hadn’t properly set the handset back down on the charging dock and it had run out of battery.

“Geez, kid, I’m sorry,” Gus sighed, setting the phone back on the dock to start charging. Haley huffed impatiently in response.

“I had to head all the way over here in the pouring rain just to tell you that Emily can’t come in tonight, she’s sick,” Haley went on, arms still folded angrily. “First she’s got me running over here for her, then off to Pierre’s to pick up a few things, then over to the clinic for some medicine. Ugh, this is the worst day ever.”

Gus had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at this response, if Haley’d known the kind of day he was having, she certainly wouldn’t consider a few errands ‘the worst day ever’. Instead Gus swallowed the urge to rant and smiled kindly in return. Kind smiles were his specialty, after all.

“Sorry to hear Emily’s sick,” Gus remarked in concern. “Need me to send you with any hot soup? Ginger ale?”

“We got it covered,” Haley replied. “I’m just gonna stock up on cans of soup at Pierre’s, it’s fine.”

Gus cringed knowing that his employee was sick at home and would be having canned soup as her meal, it was something that he would go out of his way to stop if it were any other day. But between the roof repairs, working solo for the night, and the numerous aches and pains he was experiencing, he begrudgingly accepted that canned soup would have to do. Maybe on another day he would have to make it up to Emily some other way.

“Tell Emily I hope she feels better soon but that she shouldn’t worry,” Gus went on, his kind smile still plastered onto his face. “I can handle things here.”

Haley left with a brief wave leaving Gus to sigh heavily the moment she was gone. He didn’t entirely believe that he could handle things on his own, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Business still had to continue with or without help.

4:00 came and went with no sign of the roofers. Gus was getting anxious awaiting their arrival, hoping they wouldn’t cancel on him. The buckets were filling up quickly as the rain poured down and now he was emptying full, heavy buckets every twenty minutes. It didn’t help that by 4:00, customers were already starting to pile in. While the lunch rush was light from people wanting to avoid being out in the rain, it seemed there was the opposite sentiment at dinnertime. Maybe everyone was sick of being cooped up at home, maybe they didn’t feel like cooking, maybe they liked the ambience of dining in a cozy saloon during a rainstorm. Either way, business started to pick up quickly and Gus had to strategize every minute to make sure no time, energy, or effort was wasted. He’d find himself taking orders one minute, slicing vegetables another, running to the back to empty and replace a bucket, then back to refill a drink, then off to the burners to cook a meal, all while coping with a bandaged finger and injured back. It was chaos. He’d long since stopped trying to squeeze drying the floor into the mix, instead he setup his wet floor sign and hoped for the best.

Just before 6:30, Gus could hear a clang outside followed by the sound of loud thuds overhead. The roofers must have arrived and already set to work. The activity on the roof caused many of the patrons to stare up at the ceiling in annoyance, it certainly wasn’t the most pleasant sound and a lot of the louder thuds and clangs were drowning out the jukebox. Gus could already see on the faces of his patrons that they were irritated and for that matter, he was irritated as well. Of course the work had to be done, but it was hard to focus with so many distractions. He found himself getting side-tracked in the middle of what he was doing and as a result, the orders were coming out more slowly. This was only causing further irritation among the bar patrons. Thankfully everyone seemed to realize many of the disadvantages Gus was working with between a bandaged finger, no extra employee to help, and a loud series of bangs outside beyond his control so no one ever complained to him. Still, he could sense the overall tension in the room and it only added pressure to an already stressful day. Luckily when Gus broke the news to Shane that pepper poppers weren’t an option, Shane opened his mouth to whine but stopped upon seeing the look on Gus’ face. Though Gus was ordinarily relaxed and downright jolly, he was sure that today his bad day was reflected in his mood.

It was only a half hour or so later that the doors of the saloon opened and in walked two men Gus had never seen before, absolutely drenched. It must be the roofers. Their entrance alone brought a massive puddle at the doorstep of the saloon and as they walked across the room, they left a trail of rainwater in their wake. Gus would be lucky if no one slipped and fell and slapped him with a lawsuit.

“Well we did a temporary fix for now to stop the leaking, but we’ll have to come back when it’s dry to fix it properly,” one of the men explained. “Though truth be told, that roof’s definitely seen better days. How old is it?”

“32 years?” Gus answered uncertainly, screwing up his face in thought to try and recall how old the roof could be.

“I guessed as much,” the other man replied. “We can fix your roof, but your best bet will just be to replace it.”

Gus’ stomach clenched at this news. Of course. Of course on one of the worst days he’s had, he now had to face the prospect of replacing the roof of the saloon. Even at Robin’s rate it would still be a costly project. Gus shook his head wearily and looked up to the roofers, not even trying to attempt his usual smile any longer.

“Well thanks for patching it up for the time being,” Gus sighed. “How much do I owe ya?”

“We’ll mail you the bill in three to five business days,” the first man answered. A bill that would no doubt include the travel surcharge as well as a late notice surcharge all to do a very temporary patch job.

When the roofers left, Gus stared down at the massive puddle of water in the middle of the saloon and spaced out for a moment, disconnecting entirely from everything going on around him. The day started poorly enough, but it never let up. It was the kind of day that beats you down until you just want to call it quits and crawl back into bed to start fresh in the morning. Gus didn’t often have bad days and when he did, his general optimism was enough to make the best of it. Today, there was nothing at all to make the best of, no silver lining he could find and no positive twist he could spin. Today was horrible. It only got worse when he snapped out of his brief moment of calm to the smell of smoke. The arrival of the roofers had snatched Gus’ attention from the fish he was cooking on the stove and now the filet was smoking in the pan, most definitely burnt by this point. Gus rushed to turn the burner off and removed the fish from the heat in a panic. Just when he felt seconds away from a total breakdown, he could hear a soft, gentle voice to his right.

“Gus… are you okay?”

Doctor Harvey tilted his head with an expression of concern, clearly noticing Gus’ flustered state. As usual whenever Gus was going through personal problems or having a rough day, he attempted to suck it up and put on a warm, welcoming face for his patrons. Many of them came to the saloon for an escape from their own problems, they certainly didn’t need to contend with his. But the moment Gus even tried to plaster a smile onto his face, he could feel his shoulders shaking as a swell of emotion took over. He was moments away from bursting into tears.

“I…” Gus began in a shaky voice, still grasping at the chance that he could play it off but ultimately failing. “No… no, I’m not.”

Harvey very suddenly looked on high alert and his friendly concern became far more serious.

“Are you in need of immediate medical attention?” Harvey asked suddenly, already rising from his barstool. As awful as his day had been, Gus couldn’t help but chuckle at Harvey’s reaction. He couldn’t explain why, but it was amusing how quickly Harvey was ready to jump into action if needed.

“No, no, nothing like that, Doctor H,” Gus replied, shaking his head. “Just a bad day. I won’t bend your ear, I’ll… I’ll handle it. Sorry for burning your fish, I’ll get started on another one right away.”

Before Gus could even turn around, however, he noticed Harvey shake his head vigorously and pull out the barstool next to him. Though Harvey was often quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself whenever he was at the saloon, in this moment he smiled a kind and welcoming smile as he patted the seat next to him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Harvey replied. “I can’t in good conscience contribute to your hectic night tonight. If you’d like to join me and talk about it you’re more than welcome to or you can take a seat behind the bar to unwind for a bit. Either way, you need a break. Doctor’s orders.”

It was strange how quickly all eyes in the saloon were on Gus the moment he stepped away from the bar, walked around the counter, and took a seat on the barstool beside Harvey. Everyone had only ever seen him behind the bar taking orders, filling drinks, or preparing food. Gus couldn’t recall a time he sat on the customer’s side of the bar during business hours and clearly no one else could either. A collective silence filled the room and no one even tried to hide their stares. Once Gus was seated next to Harvey, it was surprisingly Shane who spoke up first.

“You doin’ alright there, Gus?” Shane asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Just need a breather,” Gus replied as calmly as he was capable of. Clearly it wasn’t that calmly, though, because now all the patrons in the saloon looked just as concerned as Harvey had moments earlier.

“Is everything okay?” Marnie asked from the back of the saloon.

“Gus, what’s wrong?” Leah asked, dropping the sketch she was working on to step closer to the bar.

“Lookin’ a little pale there, Gussy, you’re scarin’ me,” Pam remarked, worry lining her face as she stared at Gus.

It seemed all of the attention in the saloon was on Gus at the moment and he wasn’t sure whether that was making this whole ordeal better or worse than it had been. Gus wasn’t used to the spotlight on him, he was used to being the one shining the spotlight on others, encouraging them to open up and talk about whatever they needed to talk about. Whether it was gushing over good news, venting over a rough day, or asking for advice from a friend, Gus was always there to support his patrons. It was odd to have the tables flipped and be the one in need of support.

“Nothin’, nothin’, it’s just… it’s just a rough day,” Gus tried to explain, but no one was buying it.

“Take a load off, Gus,” Marnie offered, pulling her chair out to give Gus a more comfortable seat than a barstool.

“I’ll grab some ice water, you should stay hydrated,” Harvey remarked, already heading to the back of the bar to prepare a glass.

“Want something to eat?” Pierre offered, bringing his plate of fried calamari over. “I’ve only had a few, you can take the rest.”

Leah hadn’t said another word, she had already started drying the large puddle in the middle of the saloon with towels she had found behind the bar. Within minutes, Gus was seated in one chair with his feet propped up on another, ice water and food on the table next to him, in the middle of a newly dried saloon. His patrons surrounded him, close enough to show their support but not so close that it was suffocating, and all looked at him expectantly.

“What else do you need?” Pam asked, rolling up her sleeves as though prepared to get to work on something, she just didn’t know what.

“I’d like to take a look at that bandaged finger,” Harvey pointed out, glancing at Gus’ injured hand.

“Who were those men that showed up outta nowhere?” Shane asked, glancing towards the door. “Did they say or do anything to you? I swear to Yoba if they did, I’ll…” Shane trailed off when he caught sight of a disapproving look from Marnie, but Gus caught Shane’s hands ball up aggressively into fists.

“I’m fine, really, I already feel so much better just to have all of your support,” Gus answered honestly. “Those were just roofers here to look at a leak in the roof, it’s fine. Really. It was just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong but putting it all into perspective, it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.”

It was true, Gus was already feeling better just in the few short minutes that had passed. Moments earlier he had been on the verge of a breakdown but it was incredible how quickly that changed just from receiving the love and support of his community. It was always Gus who was the one providing support, providing help, providing a shoulder to cry on. He’d never needed the same in return until now but seeing how his patrons responded in his moment of need was overwhelming. It warmed his heart to know that if he ever truly needed anyone, they would all be there for him, ready to help and support him. They proved it tonight. Today may have been one of the worst days Gus had had in quite some time, but tonight somehow proved in an odd and unexpected way to be one of the best.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv gus #gus #harvey #haley #shane #pam #marnie #pierre #leah #sdv villagers #my fic

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citadelspires · 3 years

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since I’m more or less back in business I feel it’s past time I ramble about another au I will (probably) never write. I’ll start off simple with an amphibia owl house au I was thinking up last night at work. (slight disclaimer that I have not seen any of season 2 yet so this is with exclusively information through the end of season 1). Concept below the cut cause it’s a pretty extensive one.

The concept starts at the same point the owl house does, more or less. Camila is concerned, Luz is getting sent to summer camp etc. etc. This time she gets distracted by an unusually pink frog hopping into the woods, and decides she probably has time to go chase after it. So she follows it into the woods until she suddenly trips over something and falls to the ground, turning around she sees it to be a music box sticking out of the forest floor. Curious, she digs it up and starts examining it. She thinks it’s really pretty and she’s about to open it when she hears voices coming from nearby and goes to check it out.

She finds Willow and Amity in a small clearing, think essentially the scene in the actual owl house where she sees them for the first time, except here they’re both human, though Luz doesn’t know them because they both go to some pretentious private school, Amity because she’s a Blight so she had to, and Willow because she got a scholarship for it and didn’t have the heart to tell her dads she didn’t really want to go. The scene plays out in a similar fashion to how it does in the actual show, with the exception that this time without the magic element Luz doesn’t feel the need to keep hiding and instead marches up from her hiding place to chew out Amity for being a jerk. Unfortunately she stumbles on a tree root as she approaches and, still holding the music box, accidentally pops the lid open.

So that’s how the three of them get transported to Amphibia. I like the idea of taking the setup and world of Amphibia, which we’ve seen through the lens of the characters that got transported all being close “friends”, and coming at it from a different perspective, i.e. one of them is a complete stranger to the other two and the two that do know eachother are already not on very good terms going in. (Amity and Willow have essentially the same history in the au that they do in toh).

Luz is dropped right in the middle of Newtopia, and while she’s very excited about the prospect of a fantasy adventure, she’s also pretty worried that she has no idea how to get back home, and she doesn’t take to the city as well as Marcy did. Part of this is due to her having her doubts about the ruler of Amphibia, who in this case is not Andrias, but Lilith(I understand Belos is probably a more fitting character for the role but I just don’t know enough of his character or really care about him enough to implement him, so Lilith it is! She’s more interesting for the setup anyway, depending on what Andrias’ weird master thing ends up being, maybe that would be a belos type deal but honestly I’d probably just not implement that part into this. If you can’t tell this is much less a “amphibia but with the owl house cast” and more of a actual approach to writing something new with the old setting and characters).

This is mostly due to the fact that, while wondering around the city attracting suspicious stares from newts that have never seen someone like her before, she ends up bumping into a newt who appears to be running from the majority of the city guards. They both fall down and Luz helps her stand up, a showing that is enough to convince the guards that, whatever the weird creature is, it’s in league with the felon, so they begin chasing her too. The criminal newt, who is of course Eda, takes pity on her and brings her along to her hideout, where she meets a weird little robot that insists she refer to him as King. He begins to declare that his full title is “King of...” and then kinda falters off as he seems to realize he actually isn’t quite sure what he is. Luz gives Eda a concerned Look but she just kinda shrugs it off and says he always does that.

Luz finds out that Eda deals in the trade of questionable artifacts and considers herself pretty lucky to find someone like that as soon as she did, and she asks if Eda knows anything about a music box, describing it as best as she can, because she didn’t really think to take any pictures. For her part, Eda is pretty sure what it is, and that’s the moment where she resolves to watch over Luz, at first just because she’s Concerned the box is back in Amphibia, though it eventually ends up that she gets a soft spot for the kid.

Though Luz doesn’t find out a good deal of this until later, and it’s gradually, Eda is still Lilith’s sister here, meaning that yes, she had equal claim to the newtopian crown, but the history of the crown never sat well with her (i.e. she finds out newtopia was built on the foundation of bloody conquest, along with the fact that it’s encouraged they want to get back to that point and nopes out of there). While she’s on her way out she starts off her new life of stealing shiny things by grabbing a weird little statue that had always seemed kinda off to her. She figures she could sell it at least, but while looking over it after escaping she realizes that it isn’t a statue at all, but what she decides must have been a defective robot from newtopia’s past, being much smaller and more... expressive? Than it should have been. For some reason she decided to try fixing it, and though it took a good deal of time she eventually got it to work again, which is how she came to be friends with King.

Luz’ story is largely slice of life relationship building with her, Luz, and King, until the point where the path to the valley opens, and the three of them go on what Luz finds out is an annual trip Eda takes around the valley to see if she can find anything interesting to add to her stand, as well as find new customers in the valley. Luz figures if she has a shot at finding either of the two girls she came with, and hopefully the box too, it would be on that trip.

Willow gets thrown into Toad Tower before she even realizes what’s happening to her. She has no idea where she is, didn’t even get a good look at Luz before the teleportation happened back on earth, and is overall not having a great time. She’s not convinced she’s not dreaming until she’s literally tossed into her cell and the impact hurts enough that she’s sure she’s really there. At first she believes she’s alone in her cell until she hears an awe-filled voice ask what she is and why she’s there. She isn’t able to figure out where the voice is coming from until a tiny blue frog jumps up on her hand. She introduces herself as a human, which gets him very excited, and he introduces himself as Gus, explaining that he was thrown in prison for “almost kind of knowing things he shouldn’t” as he put it.

It turns out Gus is something of a scholar, though he admits that most frogs are more inclined to call him a crazed conspiracy theorist. All of his studies have to do with mysterious other worlds and their inhabitants, which he has always been stubbornly insistent do exist. He’s overjoyed that he finally has “a real life specimen!!” and Willow is excited enough at the idea that there might be someone who actually knows what happened to her that she lets that comment slide. She quickly finds out what the meaning behind his weird prison sentence is, as she brings up getting sent to this world from another, and he attempts for a wise nod as he goes “ah yes, you must have experience an encounter with the calamity bucket.” Still he’s kind of helpful and he and Willow get along pretty well, so they end up hanging out together for the rest of the story, he basically tags along everywhere with her Jiminy Cricket style.

Amity has arguably the hardest time adjusting to the world she suddenly finds herself in, as she ends up in the forest on the outskirts of Wartwood, and promptly determines that this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. Despite having the box that “weird girl” used to send them here, opening it and closing it over again provided no help at all, and trying to go into Wartwood provided even less. Still being in Full Blight mindset she is really haughty and superior and the townspeople do not take it well. Even deducing Toadstool as the only persons superficial enough to potentially care about her status, she can’t get anything out of him cause he views her as a massive publicity risk, which he’s already not doing super well at.

The only frogs in the village that seem to not turn away from her immediately are a mischievous pair of frog twins that joke around and mess with her, and though it’s all lighthearted she’s stubborn enough at first that when they do offer to help her out she flat out refuses them. Eventually between living in a cave and their hanging around her whenever she’s in town anyway she’s worn down enough that she begrudgingly accepts their offer of help.

Not being Blights in this au has done a good deal in the way of making Edric and Emira happier. While they’re just as much of tricksters as they always are, and they occasionally overstep a little in their jests, they’re quick to apologize, and lack any of the actual malice behind their knack for causing trouble. The two of them run one of the stands in the marketplace, something they get Amity to help out with eventually as the town warms up to her. The two of them find it easier to grow closer to Amity than the rest of the town does, maybe it’s cause they’re the only ones who have really tried, or maybe it’s cause they’ve got a reputation for being trouble in the town already anyway. Whatever it is Amity gets begrudgingly closer to them until she eventually refers to them as her siblings once, and though they refuse to let her hear the end of it for a few days, they’d been calling her their little sister since the beginning, and while Amity had been certain for a long time they were just doing it to mess with her she starts to like it eventually.

Like in Amphibia, the three girls all represent one aspect of the Heart, Strength, Mind trio. Figuring out what those all are takes a lot more for these girls than it does for the amphibia trio though. The focus of this story is less on the relationships the characters have, though that is definitely a part of it, and more on the attributes their assigned to and the personal growth they have. Each of them holds the attribute that is both their strongest and most repressed. The three all hold themselves at very little value in the areas they’re actually the strongest in, and through their journey in Amphibia they start to learn.

Willow had always believed that strength was an inherently negative thing. Strength equated to power, and people who had power used it to hurt others, without fail. People like, well, Amity. She prefers gentleness and peace, and to her that and strength is mutually exclusive. She reacts to the concept that she could be charging the box with the attribute of strength very negatively.

Through her time in Amphibia she gets to learn that her strength can come in different forms, and while she is undeniably strong physically, her physical strength is nothing compared to her emotional resolve and capacity to extend that emotional resolve in the strength of heart to pick up the people around her when they need it. She does, though, get to learn that power isn’t something that is inherently evil, and even that if she uses the strength she has to protect the things that are important to her, that doesn’t mean she’s forsaken any of the things believes.

aka she gets to punch a heron in the face. Boscha (captain of toad tower) is very impressed, though she pretends she isn’t. Speaking of Boscha, she gets to experience a similar development to Willow, but more on the reverse side of the coin. Having always been powerful, and that having always been enough to make her more important than everyone else, Willow strikes her as weak at first, given her lack of aggression. The longer she stays stuck with Willow though, the more she comes to realize some important things, foremost among them being that Willow could totally kick her ass, and just chooses not to, which isn’t something Boscha understands at all, and Willow ends up teaching her how to be more of a person than a weapon, even just leading by example.

Much to Willow’s complete disbelief, (she swears to Luz the box is broken and they’re doomed), Amity is the heart. Amity doesn’t really believe it either. Strength would’ve been Okay, but personally she would’ve picked the attribute of intelligence for her. It was like the box went through all the effort of looking into their souls and didn’t even bother to check her report card. Ludicrous. It doesn’t help her that her time in wartwood is miserable for a good deal of the start. For the first time in her life Amity isn’t perfect, and it’s all because there’s nothing to be perfect at in this stupid little town. She should have all the frogs praising her superiority, but literally None Of Them are impressed by her in the slightest. They didn’t even have a school!

The only thing Amity took to quickly in Wartwood was the town motto, resolving that she would be even slower to respect the citizens of Wartwood than they would her. This started off a bit of a rivalry between her and the town, but the longer she had the horrible influence of her parents replaced by the well meaning nagging from her frog siblings, and the more time she spent not being perfect because for once in her life she literally couldn’t be, she started to think it wasn’t so bad after all, and the little rivalry between her and the town became much less of a real one, and a lot more of the friendly banter type, though she couldn’t recall ever making a concious choice to do so it just sorta... happened.

Eventually she starts to think about the school she was initially so annoyed didn’t exist, and begins to wonder if really no one is gonna do anything about it being in ruins. Eventually, she starts going over to the ruined building and reading to whatever kids in wartwood were in the mood to listen. before she knew it she had built up the closest thing to a school Wartwood had in a while, and where she once would have felt a smug pride, she only felt a casual happiness that was new to her, but not entirely unpleasant.

Luz never would have considered herself good at any of the three options. She knows she’s not strong so that’s out. All the kids at school think she’s weird and she has no friends so she really doesn’t think the whole “heart” thing works in any capacity. But the only thing left besides that would be intelligence, and she’s had enough students and teachers alike call her out for being an idiot that she’s absolutely confident that isn’t it. It doesn’t help that since she’s with Eda, who actually knows what the box is, she ends up worrying over what she’s supposed to be from the very start. She spends a lot of the time before the valley opens up thinking the box made a mistake, and since she didn’t have any of the attributes it wanted it wouldn’t work again at all.

In the end she only finds out what she’s supposed to be through process of elimination. Knowing Willow is strength and Amity is heart she finally comes to the realization that she’s supposed to be intelligence, and her confidence crumbles. Of all the options that’s the one she’d been hoping it wouldn’t be the most. How could so many people be wrong after all? It was pretty unanimous back home that she didn’t really have much going on upstairs, and after hearing it enough time she had gotten around to believing it. Her path in the story largely focuses on coming to terms with her own worth, despite her insecurities and the weight of everything she’s ever heard to the contrary constantly on her mind.

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5csbin · 3 years

Text

HAUNTED HOUSE !

HALLOWEEN TXT EDITION!

txt x neutral reader !

WARNING !: cursing! knifes! haunted house! JYP AND 6IX9INE!

a very crack and dumb one shot i made.

“MANE IF YALL DONT SHUT THE FUCK UP!” taehyun shouted as they were walking up to the line since everyone began to nag.

"this is why i wanted to go trick or treating instead." beomgyu pouted and folded his arms as he and the rest of the group waited in line to go inside of the haunted house.

well it was more like a haunted barn, where they would all get on a hayride and be driven throughout the barn and be spooked supposedly. "trick or treating?? how old are you again?" kai mocked him,

"no offense but i'm starting to think you were right when you said beomgyu was still mentally 9 years old because.. this is starting to get worrying. what 19 year old is trying go trick or treating?" yeonjun added in agreement, while taehyun shot him a dirty look for throwing shade at his best friend.

beomgyu’s first instinct was to scoot closer to (y/n), but he then fired off a clapback of his own. "the only thing that's worrying is that wig you're wearing, who the fuck are you even supposed to be? lord farquad on crack?" gyu fired back at yeonjun, who was now touching the short black bob on top of his head.

soobin couldn't help but laugh, even though it was his own boyfr- bestfriend getting flamed and soon, everybody else in the group let out laughter at gyu’s clapback. even taehyun, who couldn't stand beomgyu, was practically crying laughing at what was said.

"actually, i'm supposed to be dora," yeonjun replied, gesturing to his pink t shirt and bright orange jeans. "and soobin is.. well diego." he pulled soobin closer to him after saying that and kissed his forehead, before ruffling his blueberry curls a little.

"wait.. ain't dora and diego supposed to be cousins?" taehyun asked, his mouth curling in disgust, "i don't think that's positive..." kai added.

“cousin lovers.” (y/n) said making yeonjun smack their arm.

it was a wonder how they didn't annoy the others waiting in line for their ride, since they would fight every second. meanwhile as the group turn drew closer and closer, beomgyu found himself regretting agreeing to come here.

it was weird.. he loved horror movies, but he despised haunted houses because even though both were fake events, being in a haunted house was just so up close and personal you know?

if it wasn't for it being (y/n)'s birthday (lets just pretend ur birthday was on halloween.) beomgyu wouldn't have came, and he would have probably just stayed at home and took pictures of his costume for instagram before going over to hyunjin’s to watch scary movies.

(y/n) noticed that beomgyu looked uncomfortable amongst all of the roasts and jokes flying amongst the group and they decided to ask what was wrong.

"gyu, why do you look so sad? being sad is my job," (y/n) asked as the group continued to move up in the line. "i'm not sad," beomgyu answered. "i'm just nervous, i don't like haunted houses.. i had a really bad panic attack the last time i went to one, and i don't wanna have one and ruin your birthday or anything.. i probably should have just stayed my ass home."

"nah, you not going to ruin my birthday, you're my friend and i care about you... it won't be that scary, it's literally a haunted barn. you know what barns have? cows and chickens. now who's scared of cows and chickens? nobody. except blades of grass."

the little pep talk made gyu feel slightly calmer. "thanks," he replied, fumbling with the thick leather choker around his neck. "your costume is really cute by the way. i like the face paint."

"thanks, it was kai’s idea actually," they responded with a chipper edge to their voice. (y/n)' costume consisted of a sweatshirt and sweatpants with a skeleton printed on the front, and his face was made up to look like a skull.

after beomgyu was calm, he found himself overhearing a conversation between hueningkai, taehyun, and his knives.

"no tae, you can't bring your knives in here with you," hyuka shook his head as taehyun kept asking if he could run back to the car real quick and grab his knives "cmon kai, just in case a demon wanna try some shit"

"well.. can i get my ouija board?" tyun asked, his lips twisting into a devious smile. "i just wanna talk to the demons, it's halloween, and if it's any day i should be allowed to do this, it's today."

"ain't there no demons.. this is a barn. you wanna talk to demonic horses and shit?" yeonjun pokes in the conversation and raised an eyebrow.

"yes? of course i do, the fuck do you think i am?" taehyun whined, pointing to the devil horns on top of his head as the group finally made it to the front of the line and were waiting for the tractor to come back so that they could get on the hayride.

finally, after they all stood around and handed in their tickets to the clerk in front of the line, their tractor was ready, pulling along the hay covered cart as it came to a stop in front of the barn entrance, waiting for the group to board it.

"wait, hay? y'all ain't say there was going to be hay..." soobin complained, his skin already itching just by looking at all that hay. "y'all do know i'm allergic to hay right?"

"bitchhh, we been said it was a hayride involved," hueningkai snapped, "what you done caught the (y/n) disease where you forget everything every minutes or what?"

"aye i don't forget everything, i just be high," (y/n) cut in as they handed in their tickets to the clerk. "and i'm allergic to hay!" soobin cried out, scratching his forearm.

soobin actually is allergic to hay, but it wasn't something severe, he just got irritated by it and it caused his skin to rash up, not like his skin didn't already look as if it was full of rashes.

(that not true btw)

"oh well," hueningkai replied in a deadpan tone, shrugging. "guess you'll just die then."

after they've all handed in their tickets, everyone began to board the hay filled cart, with everyone obviously choosing to be closest to their besties.

when they got onto the cart. soobin was snuggled up to yeonjun, playing with his diego the explore backpack trying to ignore the itchy feeling the hay gave him.taehyun was resting his head on (y/n)’s shoulder, whining about his knifes, beomgyu was clinging onto kai for dear life, because he was still scared after all.

"i better not hear none of y'all screaming like no pussies after we get in here," yeonjun started after the tractor began to start up and drive them into the dark, cool barn. "how y'all gon be scared of demons when i'm taehyun a whole demon. y'all scared of him now?"

"actually, yes, i'm scared of him just a little bit," beomgyu answered, his tone groggy.

"considering he tried to kill me on multiple occasions and almost succeeded, yes yeonjun, i'm scared of taehyun and he make me fear for my life." soobin added on, slightly flinching at just saying the word taehyun.

"that was before i became positive," taehyun suddenly flashed soobin and beomgyu a toothy smile, "just like i'm positive that none of these demons or zombies or whatever the fuck is in this barn is gon' do shit to us."

"tae if you don't shut your ass up, there’s no demons in here, nor is there any zombies, they are paid actors. you wish you was in a horror movie so bad," hueningkai cut in, once again ruining tyun’s fun.

as of right now, nothing scary was going on. just the typical music playing throughout the barn, random screams, and plastic skeletons appearing out of nowhere. shit that made little kids be scared of, but anyone else wouldn't be phased. not even beomgyu was phased by what was going on, and he was the main one who was scared to come along.

but then.. things started to get more spooky. the people who were sitting on the edge would start to get grabbed and poked without warning, and people would come up on side of the cart out of nowhere and scream or otherwise bring attention to themselves, which would catch them off guard obviously, but shit like that was to be expected at a haunted house.. or in this case a haunted barn.

but soon though, things began to get downright creepy.

as they were sitting in the cart, slightly startled and caught off guard by the jumpscares, but not too shaken up, not even beomgyu was that scared, as he made sure to sit in the middle of the cart to avoid being randomly grabbed or touched by these strangers in costume, and it was just amusing to people like taehyun or (y/n), they weren't prepared for what started to happen next.

soon the music that sounded as if it was from a demonic nursery cut out mid note, and it was replaced by an old, gravely sounding voice that began to sing happy birthday very terribly and off key.

and they thought this was creepy, considering it was gus' birthday, but they considered it was a coincidence. "damn (n/n), they singing happy birthday to you, that's wild," yeonjun noticed, laughing at the 'coincidence'.

"see, i told y'all they’re really a skeleton, how else would they know that we're here for their birthday, hmm?" beomgyu added matter of factly causing the others to let out laughter.

so even though it was somewhat unsettling, it didn't become horrifying until the voice replaced "happy birthday to you," with "happy birthday (y/n)."

the place then became a chorus of "did yall hear that shit?" and "yeo what the fuck?!" after they noticed that, with (y/n) in particular being especially shook that there seemed to be a demon singing specifically to them, and their eyes went wide as the voice continued to serenade them, albeit poorly.

"see, this ain't it no more." soobin announced and hueningkai nodded in agreement. "h-how do they know it's (n/n)' birthday? much less who (y/n) is?" beomgyu asked as he held onto (y/n) even tighter than he was before. "i'm scared now."

"that's what we all want to know," yeonjun answered before reaching up to adjust his wig, before feeling nothing but his real hair tied back. he knew his wig didn't fall off or get snatched off, he had it secured with bobby pins, because it was one of his mother's wigs and he didn't want to lose it, but it had just completely disappeared.

"uh...my wig is gone," yeonjun announced and soobin just nodded. "same."

"no i mean it's for real gone... my dora or lord farquaad or whatever the fuck wig i was wearing earlier just.. disappeared into thin air." yeonjun continued to explain as he continued to search the surrounding area for it, just in case it fell out of his head but it was actually gone.

"see, i told y'all asses there were demons in here, but y'all didn’t wanna listen now y'all getting your shit taken, and demons are singing happy birthday to (y/n) and shit, and now y'all shocked," taehyun added with a huff.

"tyun, ain't no demons in here. if there were demons in here, they would do a lot worse than steal hats and wigs and sing happy birthday, believe that. they'd be torturing us psychologically, and- wait, where the fuck is my sheep hat?" hueningkai touched the top of his head, where his costume top was missing from, and now he was heated.

"yeah, we gotta get outta here."

more shit like that continued to happen with the voice continuing to reference them by name, and reference stuff that only people that know them would know, like soobin almost running someone over once, or yeonjun’s furry suit,and then, near the end of the ride, it all came together in the worst possible way.

a single echoing voice with a thick new york accent screaming "SCUUUUM GANGGGG!" followed by a laugh in the distance that sounded a lot like jyp’s laugh.

and in that moment, all of them literally hopped off of the cart and ran towards the exit.

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Plane Shift: The Boiling Isles, Brief Character Portfolio

Hello all, today I am going to go into some measure of detail for the characters in this crossover between the Owl House and Dungeons and Dragons 5e. Everybody clap your hands!!

Now, to give a little heads up, the way this portfolio is set up is based on the following Format:

Character Name

Defining Quote/Motto

Alignment Inclinations

Favored Classes/Known Classes

Brief Profile

Okay, now that the format is listed, time to get into the nitty gritty!

Luz Noceda

“Limits? What are those!”

Chaotic Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Order of Scribes. Secondary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Battle Smith. Tertiary Classes: Paladin, Rogue, and Bard.

The young daughter of the famed Plane Warden and Cleric, Camila Noceda, Luz has always had her head in the clouds, longing for adventure and friendship. Upon entering the Adventurer’s Academy, she proceeded to rock the very foundation of Plana and adventuring by choosing not one, not two, but FIVE classes to train in! She would’ve tried them all, but was talked out of it when they professors made it clear it would be physically impossible for her to take them all, and that the number she had selected would push her to greatest of limits. Luz lives life without limits or regret, and while her extremely impulsive nature has resulted in a rather poor social life, she is greatly beloved among the street dwellers and lower ranks of local organizations and groups of her home.

Amity Blight

“Perfection is impossible. That’s why we seek it.”

Lawful Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Warlock, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

The youngest child of the affluent Blight Family, recently displaced from her home dimension, Amity holds herself to a strict standard of decorum. Her methodical nature, dedication to study, and respect for authority has made her a divisive figure within the Adventurer’s Academy, as while her new instructors find her dedication admirable, they also worry it will disallow her from living a healthy and happy life. Amity regularly runs afoul of Luz, but the human girl’s friendly nature, genuine endearment, and appreciation for magic and learning has served as a bonding bridge between the two. Hints of something deeper within her heart grow clearer all the while.

Willow Park

“Nature is a blessing to us all. We have a duty to care for it, and each other.”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Druid, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Barbarian.

The only child of the Park family, Willow is a quiet, gentle child all around, but within her lurks a frightening power over nature itself that constantly threatens to break free if not for her ironclad self-control, and kind nature. Once friends with Amity Blight, circumstances forced a rift between them, and she holds that pain as a torch within her heart, always wary of letting it burn her down to nothing but unwilling to let go. Willow’s incredible connection with Plants has made her a rare talent among the Druid classes, and she is constantly called to demonstrate her power before her new peers, much to her delight.

Augustus “Gus” Porter

“So much to learn! So much to experience!”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

A young prodigy who skipped several grades in his home dimension, Gus is still an outstanding figure when it comes to both technical skill and application of magic. Excitable, kind if somewhat insensitive on occasion, and with a fierce need to prove himself, Gus often finds himself in difficult situations, both socially and dangerously, but he never allows it to affect his optimism. He’s rapidly built a bond with Luz over their shared passion and energy, not to mention his excitement over befriending “an actual real-life human!”

Boscha Triplet

“I saved the day! Why? Because I’m a Star of Course!”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Monk, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

An athletic star with an incredible ego, Boscha is by all accounts an unpleasant individual, yet since coming to Plana, she’s gradually shown signs of a more vulnerable personality, one she vehemently denies and buries within herself, much to the chagrin of others. While she initially chose Monk as a joke, thinking it of a blow-off course or something similar, the relentless physical training, and the brutally humiliating smackdown dealt on her first day have served to motivate her to continue and succeed in the Class she chose, if only out of pure spite. The philosophical aspects of Monk training seem to go over her head, yet her friends and foes alike have noted her occasionally seem to verge on saying something mean or crude, only to stop herself and stare off in contemplation.

Skara Levine

“Just go with the rhythm. Everything will work out, right?”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Bard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Sorcerer.

A young girl who lived at the top, Skara had many halmarks of being a potential problem child, often being easily lead and influenced by those deemed her friends, Skara is typically very sweet and outgoing, but for all her social butterfly moments, they are undercut by her poor interpersonal skills, frequently stumbling onto sensitive topics without any inclination she understood why she shouldn’t bring them up. She is a paradox, being both kind and cruel, nice and mean, in equal measures, the parallel nature of her behavior often befuddles those around her. She’s recently begun stating that she hears things suddenly when no one is around.

Emira Blight

“Don’t worry, I can handle this on my own.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Fighter.

The oldest daughter of the Blight family, Emira is a mischievous girl with a fondness for mayhem. Nonetheless, she cares for her family and friends, even if her methods occasionally leave much to be desired. Of the Blight Children, Emira is the most independent, often resentful of any perceived restrictions, but calm enough to find workarounds rather than lash out. She frequently professes that looks forward to the day she can live her own life, and enjoys teasing her sister along with her brother.

Edric Blight

“We got this, we just got to stick together.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

The lone son of the Blight family, Edric is Emira’s twin, and is in many ways both her equal and her mirror. While sharing her sense of mischief and love of tricks, Edric is far more flighty and whimsical, often hyper-fixating on animals and whatever shiny thing catches his eye, often projecting a childish air about him. He is the most insecure of the Blight siblings, though he hides it well, and dreads the idea of being alone, particularly from his twin.

Viney Arkswood

“Animals are our friends. They have just as much capacity for good as we do.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Ranger, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of three students sentenced to the Detention Track for their mixing of magical disciplines, Viney has a caring heart and a love of people and animals that manifested in a rather strange way, in that she attempted, and technically succeeded, in training her pet griffin to be a nursing assistant. Viney is genuinely unsure if she wishes to return, with the lone benefit in her mind being to see her parents again.

Jerbo Underslack

“I might be nervous, but that doesn’t make me incompetent.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Nature Domain. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of the three Detention Track students, Jerbo’s love of plants and his fondness for the idea of loyal aides combined in his creation of plant monsters that trashed the gardens of his school. Jerbo is the most suspicious and leery of his friends, often being slow to trust and even slower to act, he nonetheless is a kind soul, and used his admittance into the Adventurer’s Academy to try and kind some new meaning in his life.

Barcus Howsberry

“Your soul glimmers with the joy of a newfound toy in the arms of a lonely child.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

Last and oddest of the three Detention Track students, Barcus’ unusual body and strange speech make him truly bizarre, and his cryptic demeanor doesn’t help. Barcus enjoys both the art of Potions and Prediction, and frequently seeks to join the two. Upon arrival, and confirmation that yes he is a sapient being, Barcus was checked by Camila, and was determined to have a hereditary curse bound to his being, and when offered to have it removed, his comfort with his form initially made him refuse, only to be told that the speech impediment and oddness of his form would destroy any chance of him being able to integrate into society, causing him to compromise and have the curse suppressed instead.

Camila Noceda

“To bring goodness and love in this world means I can rest easy, knowing I left it in the hands of those I love.”

Lawful Good

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Life Domain. Secondary Class: None.

Mother of Luz Noceda, Camila is the current Plane Warden of Plana, being entrusted with guarding the city from extraplanar threats and to help guide and aid those lost between realms. Camila is a loving soul, but the strain of her job has worn on her over the years, with the sole reprieve being her precious daughter. Camila often adopts a motherly role for the displaced children now in her care, offering both advice when needed, and discipline as necessary. Camila also frequently aids and offers advice to the adults now sharing her living space, hoping to help them adjust to their situation.

Edalyn Clawthorne

“I’m the most powerful witch in the Isles, but it never meant a thing until I found someone to use that power for.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Sorcerer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Fiercest Wild Witch to grace the Boiling Isles since Belos’ ascension, Eda marches to the beat of her own drum, no exceptions, but she still holds a beautiful heart for those she cares for, and people in general, no matter how much she denies it. Eda was genuinely shocked to learn that Camila could, and did, heal her curse, effectively if not easily, and feels a deep sense of obligation towards the woman a a result, not to mention her all around soft spot for Camila’s daughter. Eda genuinely has no desire to return to the Isles at this point, beyond maybe a chance to reconcile with her mother and retrieve Hooty and all her stuff.

Lilith Clawthorne

“I am far from perfect, and have made many mistakes. This is the least I can do.”

Lawful Good/Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Paladin, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Lilith Clawthorne, elder sister to Eda, means well, but is both painfully naive and far too trusting for one her age, as well as disturbingly childish and immature. For all that though, Lilith holds a good heart and thrives in a structured and ordered environment and system. When she received the knowledge that Eda’s curse had been cured, Lilith was nearly left catatonic, as the curing of Eda rendered all her efforts meaningless and her life without true purpose. When Eda bluntly stated that even with her curse cured she will NEVER join a coven, Lilith forced herself to accept it, no matter how much it hurt. Since that day, Lilith has attempted to find a new direction in life, and to help others as best she can.

Odalia Blight

“Like it or not, one’s word is their bond.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

Matriarch of the Blight family, and a near-Karen level individual, Odalia is both incredibly goal-oriented and driven by a desire to succeed. Domineering and controlling, Odalia exerts a highly unhealthy and toxic level of influence over her childrens’ lives, though she does truly love them. Odalia enjoys having the upper hand, and will do anything to allow her children and family to not only survive but thrive, and is very much fond of disproportionate retribution against her enemies.

Alador Blight

“This could prove interesting.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Rogue.

Patriarch of the Blight family, and all around bizarre individual, Alador cares for little in his life aside from his inventions, his wife, and his children, in that order. Often dazed and easily distracted, Alador is highly curious and constantly seeks new inspiration for his devices and creations, no matter how dangerous the circumstances. He cares little for his wife’s antics and schemes, but in no way does he find them unacceptable, he often acts as a stabilizing influence upon her, and is perfectly fine with calling her out on her behavior when she genuinely goes too far.

Hieronymus Bump

“Dedication and Focus are important, but true passion and joy for what you do makes all the difference.”

Neutral Good/Lawful Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: None.

Principal to the famed, some would say infamous, Hexside School of Magic and Demonics, Principal Bump loves to teach and help others learn, and is perfectly willing to play the system to ensure he can do so. While he genuinely loves all his students and wishes them to succeed, he is willing to admit he is old-fashioned to a certain extent and can have trouble keeping his views on a topic unbiased, and can occasionally act in unethical ways if it means finding a solution to a problem, though he does not enjoy such measures. He aids Camila in searching for a way to return home for him and his fellows, and often acts as a reasonable authority figure for the students who came with them.

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flashbang-througthe-door · 3 years

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Harv and the accident

Ship: Sharp

Tags: @samatedeansbroccoli

Tw: flashbang malfunction, swearing, non-sexual nudity, sexual humor

Description: during a training run, a flashbang malfunction cause Harv to lose his sight for a bit

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"Check the corners, throw flashers" Harv calls out "shit" he heard someone call out and he picked a what he thought was a dud flashbang but felt something kinda heat and dropped it covering his ear but was late to closing his eyes.

"Found him, Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" Guts ask patting Harv's chest "Let's get him up to the infirmary" Harv felt himself be lifted and carried "Corporal, go find the General...he won't be happy about this" Guts sighs it's only been a few months since Harv recovered from his bruised throat. Seem all this year Harv was getting hurt, in some bizarre ways. "Harv, you can hear me right?" "Guts that you" "I'm right by your side, I sent that Corporal we both don't like to get Shepherd" Guts helped Harv sit down watching the medics clean Harv's eyes and face. "Guts?" "I'm right here" Guts pulled up a chair and rubs Harv's back. The Medic wrapped gauze around Harv's eyes "Shepherd is coming" "how?" "I know how everyone walks" Harv mumbles as Shepherd got closer "Dismissed, not you two. Harv, my level of anger is offset by my worry for you. What happened?" "Flashbang to the face, he thought it was a dud...I'd do the same..." "Gus you're dismissed too" Shepherd sighs as Guts takes off, Shepherd sat next to Harv and puts an arm around him. "I'm not mad at you...I'm not even disappointed...this year...you've been hurt way more than any other year since we've been together" "I'm just doing my job...working hard Tommy..." Harv went to get up and then sat back down "I can't see..." He sighs "Come on" Shepherd helps Harv back to their office

Shepherd sighs softly "just sit here and look pretty" he sat at his desk filling out paperwork. Harv sat up listening and tilting his head "John Price is coming" He sits up "I-" "Shepherd, I know I'm showing up without, What happened to Harv?" Price was sidetracked from his asking for grenades "Training accident" Shepherd replies "Hi John..." Harv mumbles "Hi Harv, how's Guts?" "His aim is getting better...his timing on the other hand" "Well he's been late his whole life" Price chuckles shaking his head "Anyway I need to borrow 300 grenades" he nods softly "Borrow you do realize that you can't borrow grenades" "I need em" "Go see Private Price, he'll get them to you," Shepherd says waving Price away "Thank you Sir" Price left as Harv stood up and then sat down "Got a problem?" "I need to pee" "Alright I'll hold you up, and you shoot" Shepherd helps Harv to the bathroom "Tommy, don't look" "I've seen it a m-" "Don't look" Harv mutters as Shepherd looks at the ceiling "I love you" "Your just saying that because I could pee on you" Harv mumbled zipping his fly and washes his hands "No, no...I'm pretty sure I love you" Shepherd chuckles kissing Harv's cheek.

Day four of Harv being blind was less pleasant he was holding a book in his hands. "Whatcha got there?" "I have no clue" Harv looks up closing the book "How about I help you bathe today?" "As thrilling as that sounds...nevermind help me get clean" Harv made grabby hands ready to get clean, he hates being dirty for too long. Shepherd helped Harv to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet. "I got your spare fatigues, now just look cute while I get the shower started" Shepherd sat on the side of the tub turning the shower on. Harv had this part down he unbuttoned his shirt and set it down then pulled his tee-shirt off. Shepherd turned to face Harv and help him take the rest off and helps into the shower. Harv was sitting in the tub as Shepherd removed the gauze. "Harv, close your eyes," Shepherd says softly as Harv shuts his eyes "I can't see anyway" "Shampoo in your eyes will still hurt" Shepherd sighs gently massaging the shampoo into Harv's hair "How was the briefing?" Harv mumbles as Shepherd washes the shampoo out "Same as always, long boring and same thing as normal" Shepherd sighs softly washing Harv's arms "Sounds about right" Harv mumbles softly "Harv?" "Yes, Tommy" "How have you been dealing with this?" "I'm okay, just tired" Harv mumbles

Day eight now that was fun, Harv was propped up against the wall bandages still on his eyes. "Hi, Harv" "You know you're day was here two days ago?" Harv fixes his sleeves "Yeah, I uh...mhm...he wasn't in the best moods...he was thinking about mom" Guts shrugs softly "Your mom was an American soldier? I never knew that" "Yeah, that's why I wanted to become a ranger" Guts itches his neck sighing "So how are you in two militaries at once?" Harv stretches tilting his head "It's like having two parents, I'm with the S.A.S for six months then with you guys for six months" Guts cracks his back and stands up straight "Roach like it?" "Mhm, Kinda" "Oh, I'm blind, not stupid Guts" Harv sighs shaking his head "Bossman is coming" he perks up turning his head to Shepherd's direction "Talk to you later Guts" "Yeah" Guts jogs off "Kids am I right?" Harv chuckles putting an arm around Shepherd "take me to bed" "Oh? Feeling frisky" Shepherd teases taking Harv to bed like a good boyfriend "You know, I am but... let's do that when I'm not blind, I'd like to see that" Harv giggles as he lays down "okay, whatever you like Dollface" "I can't wait to see you again"

On the final day, Harv sat in the chair so many days ago he was getting his face cleaned off. "Okay Harv, shield your eyes," the Medic says as Harv did as he told the gauze was removed. "Okay now slowly open your eye" medic threw the gauze away. Harv slowly opens his eyes "Ow... it's bright" "Okay close your eyes" the Medic sighs "What's wrong?" Shepherd was confused "Well General, the Sargent's eyes are sensitive to the light still...we give it a few minutes" the Medic rolls his chair over to a table "How are you holding on Sargent Rose?" He asks rolling back to Harv "Really happy to be able to see soon" Harv mumbles fiddling with his fingers and then moved on to fiddling with Shepherd's sleeve with his free hand. "Okay, Sargent slowly open your eyes" the medic smiles as Harv slowly opens his eyes "Oh, was the world always this ugly, oh there's my happiness" Harv chuckles looking at Shepherd "I love you" "Love you too"

#harv #Shepherd #harv/shepherd #guts price #gus price #harv calling flashbangs flashers is funny #john price

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sepublic · 4 years

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The Season Finale Promo...!

New promo! The Season Finale promo, my heart can NOT take this…!

We get our very traumatic flashback to Eda’s transformation… Then we have a close-up shot of an Emperor’s Guard doing the drums! It’s probably a parade making a big announcement that YO, Eda the Owl Lady, the allegedly most powerful Witch on the Boiling Isles, has fallen to Emperor Belos! That’s right people if you think you had a chance against him before, well- Not anymore! Considering how young his reign is, Belos is 100% taking any chance to solidify and make it look good.

We see the book from the previous image, and I was right! It’s Belos! We get some little snippets of text, I can catch, “Belos…”, “The Savage Ages”, “from that and his past remains [unknown]”, “Savage Ages caused”, and “many people have proved willing to”… Obviously it’s making a big deal what an allegedly benevolent civilizer he is, how nobody knows where Belos came from (of course), and that if I had to guess, many were willing to fall in line with his Coven System! While I have no doubt that Belos had his fair share of voluntary supporters, I also wonder about, you know… Just how many WEREN’T in line. We also see him surrounded by flame, which further alludes to the fire in his throne room, as well as his implied genocides and executions!

We have Eda being released from Lilith’s bubble into the throne room of Belos, likely our first scene looking back at her since Agony of a Witch… And then we have King warning Luz against her crusade against Belos! We have a better look at the book cover, it’s called “The unauthorized Boiling Isles history,” yet it has the Emperor’s Coven symbol behind it? Did the EC spread its propaganda as having been the always-hidden truth, or is this someone basically taking the symbol of the EC and slapping a title over that screams, “Yeah these guys are SKETCHY, here’s why!”

The author’s name has been faded out, which only makes me more curious, but it’s also possible this won’t matter! There are no doubt many of who have defied him in the past and died… Regardless, we also get our code at the bottom of the cover, which- Whoops! It’s Blood, I guessed, you guessed it, we ALL guessed it! It’s Lilith, she’s the betrayal of blood.

NOW we have a shot of Belos with blue eyes, and I think these are his ‘regular’ eyes, because we can actually see his pupils (instead of them being drowned-out amidst the energy of a palisman’s bile)! His eyes are IDENTICAL to those of an Emperor’s Guard, which really makes me wonder if they’re the same species as him, or homunculu off-shoots made in his image? Regular Boiling Isles residents transformed by Belos’ brand to fit his ideal mold as magic-less enforcers? Or for all we know he stole the eyes of some poor Emperor’s Guard to replace his own… THAT would be a freaky thought, because…

We see him in what could be another section of his castle (there seems to be some weird, organic thing in the bottom-left corner), manifesting behind Luz initially as some… Mixed-up blob version of himself that properly solidifies into his ACTUAL intended shape! This practically confirms for me that Belos’ body isn’t all that well put-together, but there’s at least some benefit to this perhaps? Mostly it seems to be a hindrance to him. You know, I wonder if there’s some symbolism about a character who forces people to fit into a specific mold, having to do the same literally with his own deteriorating body…

What’s interesting is that he’s glowing RED when he manifests behind Luz, who KNOWS she’s messed up! Is this his natural spell-color, does this come from the Titan or some other previous victim? Regardless, the way he seems to form from the floor, this makes me wonder if the castle is essentially just another extension of him (as seen with his “I will know” line from earlier), and that because it’s a part of Belos, his body can just… disseminate within the structure and reassemble itself as it pleases!

His VA calls him ‘omnipotent’, I have to wonder if this is the result of his connection to the Titan’s Heart, and possibly the rest of the Boiling Isles; Like he can form ANYWHERE from the earth, which when coupled with my speculation about the growing limbs… It makes me wonder if Belos is basically destroying his body and constantly recreating/growing it from the ground-up to ‘teleport’! Pretty metal…

We have Luz not caring about Belos’ status, and GOOD FOR HER! She’s always had misguided optimism sure, but she’s also been someone who will take on the odds when she KNOWS what she’s doing is right! I love that defiant confidence, that she’ll give people space and room and be kind and gentle, but when it gets down to it she’s tougher than anyone else! You go, girl! I just… WANT her to go apeshit, Luz deserves it just this once, to utterly wreck her enemies!

Then we have Luz hiding as the same dude who reported on the Greater Basilisk attacks is on some orbs, announcing stuff –possibly Eda’s capture, Luz’s arrest warrant, a new big announcement by Belos for the next stage of his plan- and I have to wonder if Luz has a Wanted Poster now as well. Granted, if she did it’s a bit weird that the Emperor’s Coven didn’t bother capturing her back when she was RIGHT there at the end of Agony of a Witch… But at the same time, Luz roaming about might come as an alarm especially if she’s trying to sneak somewhere, so we’ll see.

We see Lilith by herself, holding Eda’s staff without Owlbert... But I think we see Owlbert in her other hand? I guess this confirms she’s okay, but it seems the throne room doors are closing on her, leaving her alone. I have to wonder if Belos is essentially telling her to ‘stay out of this’ while he does his own thing, and perhaps being in the same room with Owlbert is going to make Lilith have an epiphany... I HOPE at least...

We have a shot of Gus and Willow in their casual outfits but with their school cowls draped on, so I presume there’s been a sudden call for a town meeting by the Emperor’s Guard for an announcement! We can see Boscha’s green-haired friend, another Hexside student from the Oracle track (they were BOTH on the field trip to Belos’ castle), and what even appears to be the Lead Demon Hunter! I wonder how the Demon Hunters feel about the Coven System, if they were once Wild Witches and technically were when they debuted, but then they had to be bound to a coven after Willow destroyed their livelihood!

Then we have a tapestry of Belos being torn down, possibly by Eda while she’s messing around in her beast-form! Next is a shot of Eda’s portal to the human world opening up in a dungeon, which could be the conformatorium, but it could also be another section of Belos’ castle… And this WORRIES me, because. What if someone took Eda’s key and is banishing Luz into the human realm, like I feared- And THIS is our season finale cliffhanger!? On the bright side we’ll likely get a quick resolution on the whole Creepy Luz subplot, but…

…Honestly I do NOT want this girl separated from her family again! Even if it’s Eda turning back and thanking Luz for rescuing her, but still having to save her apprentice again as she sends Luz to the human world! Dana PLEASE…!

And then we have Luz and King looking justifiably wrathful as Luz asks someone that is apparently in some crystalline-magic prison, “Where’s Eda?!” And she is PISSED, do NOT mess with this girl, you go for it! Go get ‘em! I have to wonder if she’s defeated Lilith or some random Emperor’s Guard/Witch, maybe even Kikimora or Warden Wrath? We still have two shots of them from the Season 1B trailer that haven’t debuted yet!

…Either way my heart can NOT take this, so bring it OOOONNNN!!!!!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #speculation #analysis

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tcsauaskblog · 4 years

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What's the most wholesome thing Gladstone has ever done for Donald? ps: this blog gives me life

Gladstone can't cook. Sure, he could probably whip up something and have it taste moderately ok, but that was just his luck kicking in. It’s not like he knew what he was doing.

‘Oatmeal’s so easy it’s practically cheating,’ he remembers Della saying a forgotten amount of years ago. And if Della could cook anything even remotely edible, then surely Gladstone would have no problems. It would be fine. He totally had this in the bag.

He looked up from his table of ingredients to the home phone hanging on the wall and had the fleeting thought of calling Gran. Not because he couldn’t do it or needed any help or anything, but just to be sure for assurance's sake.

But no, he couldn’t call her even if he wanted to. Gran had taken Del and Feth up to the mountains for an overnight Woodchuck retreat and wouldn’t be within phone service till Sunday.

Meaning Gladstone was on his own.

Gladstone rolled up his sleeves and gave a huff of determination. Like he thought, he’d be fine. Making dumb oatmeal was totally within his capabilities. Prepare yourself world, Gladstone was about to rewrite history and make the best freaking oatmeal ever!

He turned on the stovetop under a saucepan of water and brought it to a boil before adding in a cup of oats. He doesn’t really know what else you put into oatmeal besides, well, oats, but he had a distinct memory of Don’s oatmeal always tasting sweet and cinnamony, so he adds a spoonful of cinnamon and honey and keeps stirring.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Gladstone thinks Don usually puts more stuff into his, making it taste creamy and sweet and delicious. But asking Don about it would seem like he lost this battle and Gladstone would not give Donald that satisfaction, so he pushes the thought out of his head and keeps stirring till the oats seemed soft enough.

Turning the stovetop off and letting the oats cool down a bit, Gladstone cuts up an orange and makes some honey lemon tea before putting everything on a tray and making his way upstairs.

He knocks on his cousins’ door twice, but doesn't wait for an answer as he opens it anyway and walks into the dark room.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and.. well... ok so I didn’t make any bacon. Or eggs. But get up anyway, I have something better,” Gladstone sing songs as he balances the tray on his hip and uses his other hand to flip the light switch on.

The lump of blankets in Donald’s bed shifted as soon as Gladstone walked in the door, but it was another few seconds of jostled movement before a head poked out of the pile of quilts and glared at Gladstone.

“Go away,” Donald practically growled, and Gladstone had to forcibly stop himself from flinching at how scratchy and gravely Don’s voice was.

“No can do patient zero, I’m your self designated nurse for the next two days whether you like it or not,” Gladstone says, grabbing Della’s desk chair as he walked over to Don’s bed.

“Since when?” Donald croaks again, and buries his head under the blankets once more just as Gladstone took a seat beside him.

“Since you collapsed in the field a couple of hours ago with a 102-degree fever and nearly gave Gus and I a heart attack,” Gladstone comments as he sets the tray down on the bedside table beside them. “Gus is fine by the way, I sent him back to Cuthbert’s a little while ago after he helped carry you in. What have you been eating lately anyway? Took us nearly five minutes to haul you up here.”

“Shut up,” Donald groaned again before poking a one-eyed glare at Gladstone from under the blanket. “They couldn’t send a prettier and nicer nurse?”

“Excuse you, I’m the prettiest and nicest nurse in this joint. You’re lucky to have me, there’s a teddy bear down the hall that’s in dire need of a stitch job and here I am tending to your dumb ass instead,” Gladstone remarks as a heated joke, but quickly regrets it when Donald just breathes haggardly and stays a little too still under the blanket for Gladstone’s taste. “Anyway, can you sit up? You need to eat something. I made you some oatmeal.”

Donald didn’t reply back for a few quiet moments, and Gladstone almost thought he had gone back to sleep. But before Gladstone could shake his shoulder to check, Donald rolled over from his side and slowly sat up, the bed creaking the entire time as Donald rubbed his eyes to adjust them to the light. “You... you made oatmeal?”

Gladstone swallowed hard at the sight of his older cousin, and didn’t think it was possible to look so pale and so flushed at the same time. His cheeks and forehead were tinted a soft red, but his hands and arms looked clammy and washed out. There were dark bags like bruises under his eyes, a combination of stress and sleep deprivation that had overworked him to the point of getting a fever and Gladstone felt absolutely sick with how tired Don looked.

His eyes were a glazed over blue, unfocused, and hazy as he lazily made eye contact with Gladstone. “I... I didn’t know you knew how to make oatmeal. I didn’t know you knew how to make anything.”

“Please, oatmeal is so easy, it’s practically cheating,” Gladstone rolled his eyes and hoped he could get away with quoting Della without Donald noticing.

It must have been a testament to how rotten Donald was feeling because he didn’t question it a second time and just nodded sluggishly, stifling a yawn as he balanced his head against his knee and closed his eyes.

“...Don’t need it.... I’m ok,” Donald muttered halfheartedly into his knee, like he was desperately trying to convince himself instead, and the worried knot in Gladstone’s stomach tightened into something angry and frustrated.

“Still dizzy? Need any more ibuprofen?” Gladstone asked, trying not to let the worried knot that had tied itself in his gut over the past few hours tighten, but Donald just shook his head softly.

“Don’t lie to your nurse, dude. You’re obviously not ok,” and Gladstone hated this side of Donald. The stupid stubborn side that refused to let anyone in and help him when he needed it. It reminded Gladstone too much of himself, which honestly made him hate it even more. “You can barely sit up and talk to me. Can you suck up your stupid pride for like, two seconds, and just tell me what you need?”

Donald gave Gladstone another one-eyed glare, but there was hardly any fight in his words when he mumbled a, “Really... I’m ok... Just tired.” And Gladstone was seriously starting to get pissed off now.

“If you say you’re ok one more time, I don’t care if I’m your nurse or not, I swear I’m gonna smack you,” Gladstone snapped, and was surprised when Donald let out a low and wheezy chuckle.

“Are you... really trying to pick a fight with a sick guy right now?” Donald mused and Gladstone almost rolled his eyes so hard, he would have hurt himself if he wasn’t a pro at it.

“Oh, so NOW you’re sick. But when you’re hauling irrigation pipe around in 100-degree weather while being so dizzy you can barely walk straight and with a high enough fever to boil an egg, you’re all, ‘oh, don’t worry about me gran,’ and ‘I’m totally fine Della, go have fun.’ And by the time we figure out you’re not, it’s too late and you’re already half-dead in a creek somewhere,“ Gladstone complained, throwing his arms up in the air exhaustedly.

“I was in a field, not a creek.”

“My point is,” Gladstone rubbed his brow in annoyance, and tried to remember that he was indeed trying to take care of Donald, not pick a fight with him. But Gladstone was his cousin first, caretaker later, and it was high time someone spoke up to Donald about his self-sabotaging tendencies. “You always do this. You always push yourself too hard and never let any of us help you when you need it, and I’m getting sick and tired of having to worry all the time about you lying to us about whether you’re ok or not.”

Gladstone crossed his arms over his chest tightly and let his words hang in the air, his eyes glued to Donalds in a fierce sort of way that practically dared Don to try and argue back with him.

But to Gladstone’s surprise, Don just knitted his brows tightly and shifted his gaze. Hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on top of his knees, Donald muttered a soft “...I know... Sorry,” that caught Gladstone completely off guard.

And Gladstone had never seen Donald cry in all his 13 years, and Donald wasn’t crying now, but his eyes got an intense watery that made Gladstone’s heart turn ice cold and sink all the way to his feet.

And maybe it was just that Donald was really sick and tired and wasn’t in the right headspace to put up a fight and defend himself against Gladstone, but still, Gladstone couldn’t help but feel the guilt of his earlier accusation tear through his angry exterior like a knife through butter, and Gladstone melted into something soft and forgiving and far less intimidating and hard-pressed.

He was still frustrated with Donald, but to be fair to his cousin, it wasn’t like Donald tried to be difficult like this on purpose.

Donald’s always tried to do things by himself, ever since they were little kids. He always tried to carry the world on his shoulders and be the singular pillar holding all his family up. When they all moved into Gran’s for the first time, Gran made a comment to Donald that he was the man of the house now, and she would be needing his help to take care of everyone. Gladstone knows Gran only meant it as a way to cheer Donald up, but Don took it all too seriously, and used it as an excuse to do things on his own.

It really wasn’t like Donald was too prideful to ask for help, like Gladstone. It was just that he didn’t know how or when it was ok too. And he’d much rather burn up completely at both ends before he ‘burdened’ his family with what he considered ‘his’ responsibilities.

And it was frustrating cause in the same light, Gladstone didn’t know how to offer help without it seeming like he was looking or picking a fight.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s just,” Gladstone sighed, and ran a tired hand through his hair before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the edge of Don’s bed, craning his neck so that he could make eye contact with Don from where he was leaning his head against his knee. “I don’t like doing this. I’m not good at doing this.”

“What... taking care of my ‘dumb ass’?” Donald muttered sarcastically.

“Seeing you sick and being useless to help you,” Gladstone stated flatly, staring at Don’s eyes with a heated deadpan as they got wide and electric with surprise.

“Helping you is the easy part dude. Getting you to let me is what I’m not good at. You know it’s ok to take a break, right? I know I complain about doing chores and all, but it’s not like I won’t help pick up the slack if you need it.” And Donald's eyes were large and blue and glued to Gladstones as he continued, trying with every once of his luck to get Donald to understand his wishes. “You don’t always have to do everything yourself all the time. You’re allowed to take a step back and breathe once in a while. It’s not like everything will fall apart without you there to hold it together, ya know. We’re not so fragile that we’ll fall into ruin if you don’t run yourself into an early grave to fix everything yourself. You’re allowed to ask for help.”

Gladstone leaned forward and tapped Donald’s forehead a couple of times and gave him a wry smile. “So I don’t need you to apologize. I just need you to be ok. Like, really be ok. And to not try to take on the world by yourself. You’re not alone, dude. Stop acting like it.”

Donald didn’t retort with anything witty or spitfire back, which Gladstone half expected him to, but he nodded honestly and clearly, and gave Gladstone a wry smile of his own.

“Ok,” was all he said, and that was as good as gold for Gladstone.

“Ok, good!” Gladstone straightened up in his seat and reached over for the bowl of oatmeal on the nightstand. “It should be cool enough now for you to eat. I can’t promise it’s like, the best thing ever, but you need to eat something and I’m pretty sure this won’t make you feel any worse.

Donald took the bowl slowly, and raised an eyebrow of surprise in Gladstone’s general direction.

“I still can’t believe... you made me oatmeal.”

“What, like it’s hard?” Gladstone answered back, leaning forward on his elbows once again and looking at the bowl with a nervousness he didn’t quite know what to do with other than to not show it to Donald at ALL costs. “Just eat it before it gets cold, ya skeptic.”

Donald took an unhurried bite, and chewed for what seemed like a torturous forever to Gladstone, before breaking into a gentle smile.

“It’s good,” Don commented while he chewed, and smiled even bigger when Gladstone physically beamed on the spot.

“What, really? You mean it? I knew it wouldn’t be like, horrible, but it was my first time making it so I wasn’t sure and-,”

“Try it,” Donald interrupted, still smiling as he held out a spoonful towards Gladstone, who, in his defense, took it immediately in his excitement over his first real cooked dish. And didn’t even think twice about possibly getting Donald’s sick germs, (even though he never gets sick anyway.)

As soon as the spoon entered his mouth, Gladstone started coughing and gagging, and almost downed Donald’s entire cup of tea in one swig to try and wash the oatmeal down.

It wasn’t like it was horrible, it definitely was by anyone's standards edible. But it wasn’t good by any means either. Gladstone had definitely put too much cinnamon in it, and the honey was almost nonexistent, making it all together just taste way too bitter and chalky.

“UGH! You liar! You said it tasted good!” Gladstone barked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and staring daggers into Donald as his cousin smiled innocently back.

“I said it was good, not that it tasted good,” Donald supplied simply, taking his spoon back from where Gladstone had thrown it back onto the bed and taking another bite. “Not that is matters. I’m pretty sure this fever made me lose my sense of taste.”

“What’s the difference then?” Gladstone demanded, and Donald just continued to smile softly into his bowl, his soft blue eyes practically illuminated against the red of his cheeks.

“It’s warm,” Donald replied back plainly, not looking at Gladstone as he took another big bite out of it. “I like it.”

And Gladstone didn’t really understand what Donald meant by that, but a pull in his stomach told him it was a compliment, and he could feel his own cheeks get hot with pride. So he stood up abruptly and said something about getting Donald a glass of water as he walked toward the door, not wanting to show Donald how pleased he was by the praise.

Even though the oatmeal wasn’t a huge success, Donald still liked it, which meant Gladstone won the battle in the end.

Once he had gotten a glass of cold water from the kitchen and a cold wash rag for Donald’s forehead, he made his way back up the stairs towards his cousin’s bedroom.

Gladstone had left Don’s bedroom door open when he left, but before he could announce his arrival, he heard Don’s quiet snoring. Donald had fallen back asleep, with half of his body uncovered by his blanket and with the lights still on. Gladstone shook his head and smiled, but when he walked over to put the glass of water down on Donald’s nightstand, he noticed the bowl of oatmeal completely empty against Donald's side. The spoon was still hanging out of his mouth.

“Dummy,” Gladstone said with more affection then he’d ever let Donald hear while he was awake, and took the spoon out of his mouth with the utmost care. He put the empty bowl and spoon on the tray and recovered Donald with the blanket, making sure to tuck in any stray limbs. He brushed some of Donald's wild bed hair out of the way before placing the cold washcloth on his forehead. Donald sighed quietly at the contact, but otherwise made no show of waking up anytime soon. Gladstone noticed that his fever didn’t feel nearly as hot as it did earlier, and felt a sigh of his own escape his lips in relief.

Gladstone gathered the empty bowl and spoon on the tray, leaving all but a single slice of orange that he stole for himself on Donald's nightstand, and put Della’s desk chair by where he had found it.

“Call me when you need me,” Gladstone said, and didn’t care that Donald was fast asleep and couldn’t hear what he had said when he turned off the light and closed the door.

#tcs #Teenage Cousin Shenanigans #tcs ask #tcs fic #donald duck #Gladstone Gander #fucking WHOOPS #Here i am supposed to be finishing up the first chapter of the abner story and instead #i just went fucking apeshit on this ask without meaning too #oh well i don't regret it but #huh this was not where i imagined the night to go #anyway here ya go #it's probably not the most wholesome but #it's been a sweet story of the two in my head for like 3 years now and i didn't know how to fit it in anywhere #glad is 13 and donald is 14 #i based this on my brother who this has actually happened to #he one time was so sick but just like???#ignored it and kept working #and then night came and the rest of us were like??? where the fucking is mike #and turns out he was out in the pasture surrounded by our cattle cause he passed out while changing pipe #his excuse was that he had shit to do and didn't have time to have a fever or heat stroke and we were all like #BRO THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS YOU NEED TO FUCKING LISTEN TO YOUR BODY HOLY SHIT YOU COULD HAVE DIED #But anyway yeah some soft glad and don fluff for your viewing pleasure

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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Four In One : Chapter Two

Lance nearly flailed when he woke up, only to stop and remember that the Altean blanket was still doing its job. His twenty-plus foot-long wings were hidden in the warmth of a mini space pocket, all four feeling better than ever because of the room within. It wasn't often that he got to stretch his wings, mostly because his wingspan was over forty feet long, and that was just his smaller set. Luckily, there were multiple ballrooms and training rooms that allowed him to practice his flying and properly groom, something that often took vargas.

It wasn't that Lance couldn't fly without extending his wings fully. He had taught himself from a young age to fly with one set of wings or the other, to fly in small spaces, with his wings only partially unfurled or unhidden, with one wing from each set, with only one side's wings. Just because he had four giant wings, didn't mean he was going to let himself fall behind others in something as common as flying.

But Lance didn't have as many opportunities to let his wings out as the others did. Not if he wanted to keep them private. And he did. He wanted to have some clue about how they'd react to wings like his. To impossible wings.

"MINE!" was the screech that tore Lance from his thoughts and woke him up so fast and fully that he did in fact flail, though much less than he had upon his first partial wake-up. And if he wasn't fully awake at that point, he was when a weight suddenly landed on him, forcing his reflexes to push Pidge away from his body. The girl had still been in his arms, and it seemed that she had been woken up by the screech as well.

"Keith, you can't just claim him!" Hunk called out, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist.

"Yeah, we were cuddling and he's warm," Pidge butted in, glaring at the mullethead who caused her to be shoved to safety.

"Please be quiet, it's only six," came a sleepy voice from under black wings. The four teens turned (as much as they could) towards the place where Shiro appeared to only just realize what he had said. Since they had come to space, the teens found it much easier to wake up and go to sleep each night because of the less stressful environment and positive atmosphere they now had. That meant waking up early.

Shiro's wing lifted just enough to show the very drowsy face of one man with a unicorn floof.

"Don't." The teens glanced between each other, before looking back towards their flock leader. "I swear, don't you dare." Keith slowly got off Lance, who was sitting up and hiding his wings, causing the Altean blanket to fall. Hunk let go of Keith as the boy kneeled beside him. "Guys, think about what you're doing." All four were slowly moving forward, standing or kneeling side by side, almost a half-circle around the now slightly panicked Space Dad™. "Guys. Gu-AHHH!"

The teens lunged forward quickly, tackling the man and pinning him with their weight. It was much like what had happened to Lance the day before, only now Hunk was holding Shiro's legs, Keith was holding his waist, Pidge had his stomach and Lance held him by the shoulders. Pidge's arms effective pinned the older man's hands, and he didn't dare use his Galran arm against his flockmates.

"Boop," Lance said as he used his left hand to bop Shiro's floof. The man glared up at his tallest space son, which was ineffective with the braided white hair still bouncing slightly.

"I hate you all."

"No, you don't," came four voices, followed by a flurry of movement as the kids swiftly left the nest, abandoning a seething Shiro. Coran was already in the kitchen, prepping breakfast but waiting to actually make anything for the humans until Hunk approved them as safe and actually delicious. The surrogate uncle was getting much better at telling if something would make his nephews and niece ill, or simply be downright disgusting to them. Allura was setting the table, something Lance starting helping her with immediately, a habit he had developed long ago.

With table set, Allura and Lance went to help Coran and Hunk bring breakfast out. Somehow, they had made the space equivalents of bacon, porridge, toast and eggs, along with a few Altean dishes. Upon returning to the dining room, the four were met with what seemed to be a two-on-one argument: Pidge and Keith versus Shiro.

"I know I saw one, Shiro! Why are you lying?" Pidge shouted, wings puffed up in an adora- irritated way. Keith nodded beside her, lower set of wings rustling a bit.

"Yeah, Shiro! What sort of example are you setting for your children?"

"What is the matter, Paladins?" Allura interjected, not setting down the food yet on the chance they begin launching it at one another.

"These two are obsessed!" Shiro pointed at the two as he moved to stand by Coran, as if the Altean man would protect him.

"Is this another cryptid thing," Lance asked, putting the two trays of food he held down.

"Shiro has scales in his feathers and he won't show us," Pidge pouted, moving over to Hunk to snatch some space bacon from the trays he had.

"If I show you my scales, will you drop it, ya cryptids?" Both of them frantically nodded, extracting a sigh as Shiro turned around. His wings spread out, and he carefully pointed towards the base of them, where they met his back.

The rest of the team pressed inwards, Coran gently moving a few feathers to reveal several streaks of scales, spattered as if someone was drizzling them outwards. They blended in perfectly with the colors of the feathers around them, which was probably how none of them had been noticed during grooming. Lance's breath caught slightly at the sight, because here was something that might be proof. Now, all he needs to do is-

"So do all of us have mutations?" Sweet, beautiful Hunk.

"What do you mean," Keith asked.

"Oh, I get it," Pidge interrupted. "I have unusual coloring, Keith has an extra set of wings, Hunk has extremely large wings, and now we know that Shiro has both feathers and scales. That means that we all technically have mutations." This was Lance's chance.

"Wouldn't it be cool to see wings with all four mutations?" Lance's palms got sweaty as everyone's attention snapped to him. At their looks of confusion, he continued. "I mean, imagine someone with, like, bright blue wings, and four of them, and both scales and feathers and they'd be huge."

"That'd be sick." Hunk's face had a huge grin on it, and he looked like he was going to explode with happiness.

"Can you imagine what sort of secrets wings like those could hold," Pidge exclaimed, bouncing in place before sitting down and bouncing while eating. Hunk joined in, immediately beginning to discuss the possible ways someone could up with wings like that. Coran was pulled in as well, adding his knowledge of more alien mutations.

"Forget the secrets, imagine fighting with four giant wings! Especially with both feathers and scales!" Keith grabbed Shiro's arm, dragging him to the table and blabbering about all the techniques that could be created with both feathers and scales. Shiro looked like he wanted to die, but was still mildly interested.

Allura, however, was watching everyone else talk, having slowly moved over to Lance. She gave him a side glance that was almost knowing. Leaning down, she whispered lowly into Lance's ear.

"Be prepared to be pulled every direction when you show us." Lance tensed, before seeing her warm smile. He nodded to her, and the quick squeeze she gave his arm relaxed him greatly. One down, five to go. The two rushed over to the table together, trying to get some food before the others devoured it all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lance was pulled aside after only one week in the Garrison, by none other than Iverson. Iverson had apparently seen the second flight Lance had gone for and most definitely seen his wings. But he didn't go crazy, and he didn't get mad, and he didn't in any way raise his voice. Instead, he seemed stern and somehow concerned.

"McClain, I can understand why you are worried, but there isn't a reason. Not yet." Lance remained tense in the chair across the desk from his teacher. "Your grades are good, you have the makings of a fighter pilot. However, you struggle in simulations because of the lack of realism. I've seen it before. Without the actual risk of crashing or hurting someone, you can't perform nearly as well as you could. I've talked with other teachers about this, and we all understand." Lance was very confused at this point. Where was the usually yelling man who everyone already knew as a jerk?

"McClain, you are right to hide your wings from the public. But, if we play the cards right, you might not have to."

"We?" Lance inquired, even more confused and highly curious about this change in behavior.

"Every teacher here has a reputation. My own is not exactly flattering. But each of us are simply trying to push our students. Outside this room, I might yell at you or seemingly insult you, but in here, I can tell you what it means. If you get the best grades possible, connect with whatever team you receive, work as hard as you can and prove that you're one of the best pilots we've ever had, one day the world won't care what your wings look like. I've looked over all your grades and classes and the only person you ever come second with is Kogane. You beat him, a natural prodigy, one I assure you doesn't try nearly as much, and you prove that it doesn't matter what impossible wings you have. You are the best pilot at the Garrison. Do you understand?"

For the coming months, Iverson was true to his words. Every time his words hurt, Lance would head to his office. Iverson explained what he had meant in far gentler terms. Every time he reminded Lance that he was second to Keith, it reminded the boy about their talks. When Lance told Iverson that he might be able to get better scores if his tests were translated, he found his teachers handing him the Spanish version of the tests. Both Iverson and him put on facades of hatred and mutual annoyance.

When Keith dropped out, Iverson pushed Lance even harder. He had a team, one he needed to connect with, and the struggle was real. Pidge couldn't focus that well on the missions, no matter if they were in the simulators or not (the students sometimes got to do real shuttle piloting, though those were far less often). Hunk had very high anxiety, which led to worrying and nausea, which led to vomiting. Lance did the best he could, meaning adding a puke bucket for his roommate, reminding him that the simulator isn't actually dangerous and quelling any anxiety afterwards. It also meant using the newest team addition's obsession against him. Lance reminded Pidge that if it really wasn't a pilot error that caused the Kerberos mission's failure, then something else happened. If Pidge didn't focus, the team would fail and possibly die. If Pidge did focus, the team might make it to higher ranks, maybe even getting to go to Kerberos themselves someday and seeing if they could find the real cause. It didn't help entirely, but it did help.

The night that the Garrison Trio found Shiro was also the night that Lance was going to show his wings to his teammates. They needed to come together, and he thought that showing such trust in them would lead to a better team dynamic. All he needed to do was get Pidge to sneak out with him and Hunk, and then find a safe place to reveal himself.

Then Shiro's pod crashed. Lance and Pidge rushed down to help with Hunk following. They successfully assisted Keith in saving Shiro. They made it to the desert shack. Hunk snooped and found the frequencies that lined up with the canyon picture Keith had. The cave markings lit up at Lance's touch, telling him that he was expected.

Flying the Blue Lion was an amazing experience. She connected to Lance's mind in a way that was unlike anything he had felt before, but at the same time, he knew the feeling. Slow sunsets, warm air, calm seas. She was home and at the same time, not. To bond to her, Lance simply had to be himself. His full self.

The Alteans were a sight to behold as well. Their wings were far more colorful than any humans, besides maybe Pidge's. Allura practically tackled Lance once she became semi-conscious. His lack of wings and pointed ears terrified her half-aware mind, and Lance began flirting to distract her. Coran was quick to realize that distraction was also needed, pretending to fight the air and arguing with the boy he had never met before.

Lance kept Iverson's words in his heart, many of which were beyond what the others could even imagine. For example, the whole "the Kerberos mission failed because of a pilot error" was apparently a ploy to keep the public calm while the government investigated the situation. Lance's rivalry with Keith spawned from the simple fact that Iverson tried to keep Keith out of the mess and he got a black eye for his troubles. Lance's overdramatic confusion about Pidge's gender was to hide the fact that Iverson told him about two hours into being on a team with her. That led to Lance carrying a small amount of painkillers, chocolate, and some pads and tampons, which was handy when there weren't any on hand in space.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Alright, team," Shiro called, watching as the last of the food was swiped from the trays and disappeared in ticks. "We need to train today. Let's start with the invisible maze, then move on to long range weapons, and lastly short range weapons. Tomorrow we'll start close combat with no weapons."

Cheers rang out, since that meant a relatively moderate training day compared to what it could be. Both Shiro and Allura were getting better at judging what quintants were perfect for hard training and which quintants were definitely meant for more lenient drills. Food fights had greatly diminished now that Allura wasn't a tyrant with Shiro behind her.

"Last one to the training room has to do the maze first! And no wings!" Lance shouted as he ran full speed down the hallways. Keith was right on his heels, followed by a Pidge riding a Hunk. Shiro, Allura and Coran's laughter carried after them, the empty halls of the castle filling with sounds of joy.

#voltron #wing au #lance #hunk #pidge #shiro #allura #keith #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #coran coran the gorgeous man #lance-centric #purple #klance

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shijiujun · 4 years

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[ENG] History3: Make Our Days Count - IF Alternative Ending

“That Day, You are Still Here”

That car accident left Xi Gu with severe injuries, and at one point, his heart even stopped beating. The Xi Gu in his dreams even left him, leaving Hao Ting behind to slowly walk through life on his own. Even when he went to university, entered a well-known biology research center, at his side one person was always missing from his side. That feeling is as if his heart was dug out, leaving behind an empty space. Regardless of when he’s asleep or awake, Hao Ting feels the panic and fear so deep, the kind that leaves him with a face covered entirely in tears when he comes back to himself…

“It’s been so long already…” Xi Gu squints, but in his eyes the joy at having someone care for him like this is revealed, as does the gentleness and softness his feels for the one he loves.

“I’m still here, don’t worry.”

---

Pages: 250-260 (sorry my bad at counting it’s 10 not 15 pages)

Word Count: ~3580 words

Disclaimer: Translations are entirely mine - these are not official translations and some phrases have been changed for better English interpretation so you’ll definitely see better/different translations elsewhere. And yes some teeny weeny details and words may not turn up in the translation because the Chi to Eng mind acrobatics didn’t work out. If you see asterisks, scroll all the way to the bottom for notes! Doing this in a rush so there may be some errors, will read through again when I get back from work!!

Full chapter below the cut

Xiang Hao Ting opens his eyes, and for a moment he does not even know where he is, who he is; his face feels a little cold, just like the feeling of touching water and having a cool breeze blow over it after. Turning his face to the side, Yu Xi Gu’s sleeping face comes into his line of vision. It’s easier to look at Xi Gu’s face now, which has become fuller since their days in high school. The only things that haven’t changed are his long eyelashes and his white as porcelain skin colour - even though he’s running outside more frequently now, Xi Gu’s skin has not darkened.

His breaths are deep and long, and this is the breathing technique most suitable for being on a mountain. Hao Ting and Xi Gu watched each other’s breathing pattern and rhythm closely before this to practice breathing in this manner. People who did not know what they were doing exactly may have thought they were practicing Lamaze Breathing instead.*

Ah, breathing. Hao Ting slowly remembers that where he and Xi Gu are right now is Paiyun Lodge.

He dreamt of that scene again. His entire body is drenched in cold sweat, and the sleeping bag he is in is now abnormally warm and stuffy because of that. Shifting his gaze towards the outside, he sees that a ray of sunlight has already entered the room. Hao Ting thinks that they still have an hour before they have to get ready for breakfast, and he can use the time to wipe himself dry.

He does not expect Xi Gu to open his eyes the moment he moves.

“Is it time?” Xi Gu asks and keeps his voice low, because it’s not just the both of them in this room.

There are other hiking friends with them, and loud noises can easily disturb the rest.

“Not yet,” Hao Ting replies, then points at his wet hair.

“So wet…” Xi Gu might as well get up, and with light movements he finds the dried towel sitting on top of the backpack next to their bedrolls so he can help Hao Ting dry his hair.

Under the dim light, he sees that Hao Ting looks both a little sick and upset, and idly asks if Hao Ting had a nightmare. Xi Gu does not expect Hao Ting’s body to shudder hard at that, both his brows furrowed tight.

“You had a bad dream?”

Xi Gu’s heart aches for the man. After all, before they slept the night before, Hao Ting did seem a little unsteady and anxious, so he’s not surprised that Hao Ting had a bad dream.

“I dreamt of… the day you met with the accident, and your entire body was covered in blood…”

The accident happened such a long time ago, but thinking about it still makes Hao Ting afraid, because the details in his dream were exceptionally clear, and the fear and terror he felt from that day is written deep in his bones.

“It’s been so long already…” Xi Gu squints, but in his eyes the joy at having someone care for him like this is revealed, as does the gentleness and softness his feels for the one he loves.

“I’m still here, don’t worry.”***

Hao Ting embraces Xi Gu so tight, with the strength of someone trying to absorb Xi Gu into his body. Xi Gu is the person whose hand Hao Ting has held in his all this time, and Xi Gu is his prized treasure. Not even talking about losing him, if Xi Gu hurts himself usually by knocking into or hitting things, Hao Ting’s heart will ache for half a day at least.

“We promised that we’ll be together! You’re not allowed to break our promise!”

Suddenly, Hao Ting feels the person in his arms jolt, and the hand on his back is lightly shaking as well. When he realizes what a dumb thing he’s doing right now, it’s too late.

How could he pass his anxiety and fears to Xi Gu? Hao Ting treasures him so much, and usually, if he has any frustrations or things he’s unhappy about, he would keep it inside and swallow it.

“It must be because I wasn’t feeling well yesterday before I slept!” Hao Ting blinks as he speaks, even though his tone is a little more high-pitched than usual.

“Shhhh!” Xi Gu quickly presses his hand over Hao Ting’s mouth, because it wouldn’t do to wake the rest of their hiking party up. “Talk softly. All is good, I’m here, I won’t leave you all aline.”

Hao Ting blinks with his two huge eyes, and with muffled noises of assent, he nods in agreement. However, the fear and anxiety in his eyes do not vanish completely. Just like the fog outside, Hao Ting finds his emotions hard to dissipate in the moment.

~~~~~~

The both of them leave Paiyun Lodge after breakfast with their friends. Today is the second day in their hiking plan, and they plan to head straight for the mountain’s peak before going back to the lodge, retracing their steps. Then, they will leave the mountain tomorrow.

Hao Ting began to hike and climb after attending university, and Xi Gu, on the other hand, has not exercised in a long time and is extremely skinny and weak in physique. Not to mention that car accident which left him resting for a long, long while after, so no matter how much Xi Gu likes being close to the forests and nature, there are undeniably some physical limitations for him.

However, a long journey begins with a small step, so after much preparation and consideration, they decided to choose a three day and two night hiking schedule that is low on difficulty as their first step to conquering more mountains in the future.

On the way up to the mountain’s peak, their legs are steady as they climb because the backpacks they chose are able to efficiently hold the weight of all the items they need without putting the stress of the weight on their legs. At first, Xi Gu said that they should pick the cheapest bag, the cheaper the better, but Hao Ting refused. He’d done his homework, and the backpack and hiking shoes are the most important items to spend money on.

“You have to carry the backpack the whole day, and shoes carry your entire weight!”

With this, Xi Gu gave into Hao Ting, but Hao Ting also knew that Xi Gu doesn’t have much savings he can tap into for this, so he secretly paid for the items for Xi Gu. When he was exposed for it, he still dared to laugh and grin, and directly said that this was the duty of a husband! Xi Gu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that.

The both of them are the least experienced among the group, so they are placed at the very back of the group with the more experienced leader keeping up the pace behind them. This is so that if anyone leaves the team or feels uncomfortable at any time, he can react quickly and lend them a hand.

Along the way, everyone’s pace is not fast. After all, this is not the kind of two day and one night hike which requires them to hurry down the mountain, and so there is the occasional chatter and laughter among them. However, Hao Ting is a little more quiet, and only when Xi Gu turns around to look at him does Hao Ting smile.

He is still thinking about the dream from yesterday. He knows what the cause of this dream is, and while the scene at that particular road where the accident occured didn’t leave him with any regrets, his memories of that day are clear, and it has permanently left a shadow of fear in his heart.

“Are you still okay?” asks the leader in concern when he sees Hao Ting starting to stray away from the main group.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I’m good, I’m just thinking about some things…” Hao Ting replies.

“You have to stay focused, if you lose your footing and injure yourself you’ll have to go back to the lodge and rest.”

The leader pats at his shoulder and brings him back, closer on the inside.

There are two routes in total to Yu Shan main peak - Dong Bu’s ‘Ba Tong Guan’ route which is more difficult, where even experienced climbers usually stay off this path, and instead they use the route on the West, the ‘Tataka’ route. It has a complete, properly marked out route and the necessary facilities and is beginner-friendly. All they have to do at this time is to hold onto the route’s chains and watch their own footsteps, and they will be able to see the gorgeous view of the mountains as they make their climb upwards. The fog is gradually vanishing as the sun inches upwards, and the air is especially fresh.

Hao Ting quietly hastens his footsteps to follow Xi Gu. Seeing that his forehead is filled with sweat, Hao Ting takes off the towel at his waist and helps him to wipe that away.

“Thank you,” Xi Gu remembers the breathing technique and is making his way upwards steadily one step after the other, but he did not miss the conversation between the leader and Hao Ting earlier, so in between his breaths he manages, “You’re still thinking about that dream?”

“Hnn? No! I was just thinking, when we finally hit the peak, how beautiful that view will be!” he lies quickly.

“The scenery will be beautiful and it’ll make you forget that dream,” Xi Gu smiles.

He is no longer that adolescent, innocent young man anymore, and it’s not as if he’s been with Hao Ting for only a day or two, so Xi Gu is familiar with all of Hao Ting’s moods. He knows that at this point, he cannot argue with Hao Ting. Following Hao Ting’s lead and what he says is the right way to understand him. Furthermore, just arguing with him on whether Hao Ting is concerned about that or not has no meaning.

Xi Gu returns the towel to him and continues the climb, and this time he doesn’t forget to hold onto Hao Ting for a few steps before releasing him. Holding hands while climbing is considered a pretty dangerous thing, but the warmth from Xi Gu’s hold lingers in Hao Ting’s palm, and successfully pushes the fear and anxiety to the back of Hao Ting’s mind. It will not disappear entirely, but he can exist together with it instead.

~~~~~

The moment they reach the peak, Hao Ting is blown away by the view before his eyes.

It is a whole stretch of blue and there is not a single cloud in the sky. Forests are abound at a glance and under the glorious rays of the sun, it seems as if a layer of gold dust was scattered across the forest. The sight is blinding. Yet, even with the sun, they do not feel hot and just wipe at their sweat with towels, unafraid of catching a cold with the breeze.

The leader gets everyone to put their bags in a particular area, and if they want to take photos they can use this time to do it. If they’re hungry, they should eat some bread and chocolate right now. When the time is up, everyone will line up again and make their descent to Paiyun Lodge.

After everyone takes moment to catch their breath, they begin to head towards the peak’s sign to take a photo momento, and the older members of the group say they want to take more photos to boast of their climb to their friends, so the atmosphere is particularly warm.

Hao Ting does not join them in their fun, and instead brings Xi Gu slowly to the side, a distance away from everyone else. He really wants to take photos too, but more than that he wants to be glued to Xi Gu. After all, the only reason why he found an interest in the mountains and skies is because Xi Gu likes it.

“It’s a bit of a pity that we can’t come up here at night,” he says.

“It’s okay,” Xi Gu, surprisingly, is not concerned about that much.

After all, this is not their final goal, but their beginning.

“When we go back to the lodge, we can tell them, that we’ve made the first step and we are getting closer and closer to them!”

Their goal then was to climb the Himalayas, to stand at the point that is closest to the stars to tell Xi Gu’s parents that everything is good with him.

“Hnn! They’ll definitely be very happy.”

“You think so?” Xi Gu’s smile is exceptionally sweet, and with a brief peek to the people gathered at the sign taking photos, chatting and admiring the view, and making sure that no one is looking at them, Xi Gu then dares to give Hao Ting’s cheek a kiss, “Thank you.”

“Instead of saying thank you, you might as well kiss me a few more times!” Hao Ting teases him, raising his eyebrow,.

“We’re outside right now!”

Xi Gu definitely will not kiss him right here. The both of them exchange glances and laugh, and while there are no kisses, Xi Gu replaces that by secretly digging his finger into Hao Ting’s palm. A silent promise is more beautiful than any declarations at this point.

So immersed the both of them are in their world that it is only when the leader announces their descent that Hao Ting and Xi Gu rush to the sign and ask a few of their group members to take a few photos for them. The older members of the team, seeing them like this, start to laugh loudly and say that these two children are just too adorable.

~~~~~

In the evening, the members of team do not sleep early as they are still sharing their excitement about reaching Yu Shan’s peak, and they even plan to continue on some other climbs together. Laughter echoes through the room, and influenced by the merry atmosphere, he too laughs.

“Happy?” Hao Ting asks, his hands holding onto a hot cup of cocoa.

“I’m really happy! I can be together with you, and I can come and see dad and mom, so I’m really happy!” Xi Gu beams, his smile so radiant. “Oh right, are you still feeling not so well? Is there a buzzing in your ear, dizziness or do you feel like throwing up?”

“Nope!”

Hao Ting knows that Xi Gu wants to ask about his dream and not his physical well-being right now, but strangely enough, since hitting peak and returning to the lodge until now, he has not thought about the dream again. Instead, his mind is set on which other climbs they can do next. While Yang Ming Shan isn’t actually difficult, but the both of them can go to the onsen with that trip, which is quite attractive.

“That’s good. If you’ve got nothing to do don’t dream of those things. You and I are going to live until we are a hundred, and we’re also going to climb all the mountains in Taiwan, then set our sights on those overseas, and conquer the world’s highest peak.”

Their ambitions sound entirely not realistic, but they are also faced with a future teeming with possibilities and opportunities, so they do not worry about whether it is realistic or not. They only fear not making the first step, and now that they have reached Yu Shan’s peak, then that is their first step.

Hao Ting laughs awkwardly, and says, “I won’t dream of it anymore.”

He lifts his head up to look at a sky full of stars, and even if they cannot see the Rosette Nebula, the entire star system is connected.

“Papa Yu, Mama Yu, I know you can hear me,” Hao Ting reaches for Xi Gu’s shoulder and brings him into his embrace, and with his other hand he secretly takes out a small box from his pocket.

He has prepared for this moment for a very long time, and he knows that giving it to him here is most meaningful.

Xi Gu lifts his face up to look at him, and does not realise that his middle finger is being held by Hao Ting.

“We worked very hard today, and we managed to climb up Yu Shan. Sadly, we were unable to do the climb at night, otherwise I’ll be able to tell you guys directly.”

The man in his arms uses the back of his head to lightly knock against Hao Ting’s chest, the moment especially sweet.

“In the future we will also continue to climb other mountains, and we will definitely climb up the Himalayas, and at the point where we are closest to the stars, I will ask you both to entrust your son to me. Before that, I have to ask the both of you to be a little more patient. I promise, I will treasure your son and be very good to him.”

“What are you saying, so serious…” Xi Gu laughs at him.

“Xi Gu.”

At the call of his name, a solid, round object is secured at the bottom of his middle finger. When Xi Gu finally reacts and raises his hand, he sees that it is a silver ring. No other embellishment or decoration, only a single diamond set in the middle of the band. It is sparkling, and more blinding than any of the stars in the sky at the moment.

“This ring, is an engagement ring,” and Hao Ting seriously places another ring into his palm, “Inside I engraved both our names, and I feel that on a special day like today, we need to commemorate it properly.”

He stresses that this ring isn’t very expensive, and is perfect to symbolize the start of their journey together, because he is also afraid that Xi Gu would be troubled that Hao Ting spent too much money on this.

“When we finally climb the Himalayas, then it’ll become a wedding ring. When that time comes, you’re not allowed to say no, and you can only say ‘I do’.”

“Xiang Hao Ting…” Xi Gu is surprised to the point of speechlessness, and he is clutching onto the ring so tight that it is leaving a mark behind.

He doesn’t know whether to scold Hao Ting for spending money like this, or should he say that Hao Ting is truly too meticulous, that he would prepare such a surprise, shocking him to the point of tears.

“Who does it like this!” Xi Gu ends up scolding, his voice a little hoarse.

“I do!” Hao Ting says with no shame.

After, he urges Xi Gu to help him put on his ring, and warmed up from the heat of the hot chocolate, can clearly feel the engraved words on the inside of the ring against their skin.

As he softly calls ‘Xi Gu’, Hao Ting kisses along Xi Gu’s face until he reaches his lips. The scent of the sweet and thick hot cocoa becomes stronger, along with their quickening breaths with every kiss. In the end, it is Xi Gu who remembers that they are still outside and situated in the midst of a mountain, so they should both avoid doing anything that would cause their breathing rhythms to falter. Only then do they return from the edge of losing control from their hot kisses.

“When it’s time for the wedding ring, it’ll be my turn,” Xi Gu says in satisfaction.

He hides himself in Hao Ting’s embrace, and uses his coat to cover his own body, leaving only his head outside, looking just like a little animal afraid of the cold.

“Sure, we can choose the style we want together. Sun Bo recommended a store to me, and I picked these there…”

The both of them continue to chat, and the stars before them sparkle, as if giving their blessings to Hao Ting and Xi Gu who have decided to walk down the rest of their lives together, hand in hand.

*******

Notes:

*Lamaze Breathing - The breathing technique that women in labour use XD

**Stebeee’s note - Once again, I kind of hate you show writers, because to watch it in ep 20 was one thing and then having to read about this deep-seated fear of Hao Ting through the years as he deals with this? Wow. Thanks but no thanks.

***Stebeee’s note again - We worry, Xi Gu, because we saw it happen *sobs loudly in a corner*

#history3: modc #history 3: modc #modc #history3: make our days count #make our days count #modc novel #translations #history3 merchandise #history3 novel #SCREAMING AT THE PROPOSAL #GOOD GOING HAO TING #YES SO MUCH BETTER #THANK YOU AUTHORNIM

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tngrayson · 4 years

Text

While My Heart Gently Weeps

A/N: A long blurb I wrote to get back into writing. I know I’ve been away for a long time. This is my first time dipping into the BCS world, and writing Nacho, so I’d LOVE your feedback. I think I’m going to write more Nacho, since there seems to be a shortage of him on here.

P.S. This ends suddenly

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: Explicit sex, Violence, Drugs, things typical of the Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul universe. Might not be for everyone

Pairing: Nacho x Reader

___

“Will I see you tonight?”

“I don’t know, I’ve still got a lot to do here,” he said, looking at the warehouse where the exchange was to happen.

She sighed. “Please? I miss you, Ignacio.” She continued dramatically, “It’s so lonely in this bed.” She stretched out seductively as if he could see her.

Nacho breathed a laugh. “Okay, baby. I’ll come by after I finish up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, getting out of the car and walking into the Los Pollos Hermanos warehouse.

“I love you, Ignacio.”

“I know, baby.” Nacho hung up, tucked his phone into his pocket, and waited for Gus’ two goons to show.

Several hours later, after Nacho had a gun pointed to his head, got the idea to sabotage Don Hector’s medicine, and broken into Daniel Wormald’s home to make a deal, he was at her door using the key she’d given him some time ago to let himself in.

He hung his jacket up in the entry closet, dropped his keys in the dish by the front door, and toed off his boots before heading straight for her bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to find her sleeping there. He did his best to undress quietly and get in bed without waking her. She stirred when the bed shifted with the weight of him getting in. She stretched, her nightshirt—one of Nacho’s tees—riding up just enough to reveal her lace underwear.

“You came,” she said sleepily, sitting up to greet him.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I know, but,” she trailed off. They both knew Nacho hadn’t been keeping his promises lately.

Nacho sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I’ve been letting you down.”

“You’ve been busy,” she corrected.

“No,” he insisted. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend. You deserve better than me.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself right now?” She took his hand. “Did something happen?”

Nacho thought of the stunt Hector asked him to pull, taking six instead of five. He played calm, but for that small moment when there was a gun aimed at him, he only thought of her. He thought of how he was about to break another promise.

“Tonight. When you called, you said you loved me. All night I’ve been regretting not saying it back to you.”

“Nacho, I don’t tell you that to hear it back. “

“I love you,” he said assuredly, looking into her eyes. “I want to do better for you. I’m going to do better for you.”

Nacho pressed his lips to hers tenderly. He took his time, committing the moment to memory. He savored the feel of her soft lips on his, the lingering scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her when he pulled her to straddle on top of him. These were things he missed when he thought he might die earlier.

He broke the kiss to pull her—his—shirt off of her and then worshipped every inch of her skin that he could reach with his mouth. His hands found their way to her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as he ground his hips up against hers, earning himself a soft moan.

They parted to shed the rest of their clothing, and then Nacho was guiding her back into his lap. She eased herself on top of him, so he was buried deep inside of her wet center. She shuddered at the fullness of him, rocking her hips in time with his. His hands found a place in her hair, massaging her scalp while he tilted her head back to gain access to her neck and breasts.

She braced herself on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the delicate pace turned into a desperate one, and he pounded into a sweet spot. Her orgasm wracked through her suddenly as she cried out.

They shared a passionate kiss as he grabbed her thighs to pick her up and laid her back against the sheets—Nacho re-situating himself in between her legs. One hand gently steadying her thigh above his hip as he slid himself inside, and the other with fingers interlaced with hers just above her head. Her body shook with another orgasm as he plunged harder, providing more friction on her clit. Pleasure rolled through her in waves, and the involuntary pulsing was enough to bring Nacho over the edge with her.

They rolled on their sides as they caught their breath. Nacho took her hand, kissing her knuckles and bringing her closer to him. The stress he was under melted away when she was in his arms. While Nacho felt at peace, her mind was uneasy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and the phenomenal sex had been a cover-up.

“Ignacio?”

“Hmm?” he said, fingers lazily drawing patterns on her side.

“Everything’s okay?”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers, allowing himself to get lost in them for a moment. He wanted to tell her everything. Tuco was going to be in jail longer than anyone anticipated, meaning he’d have to keep picking up the slack. Hector was reckless in his pissing match with Gustavo. Nacho needed to get it off of his chest, but more than that, he needed to keep her safe. The less she knew, the better.

“It will be,” he said, kissing her forehead.

***

Nacho had been more involved after that night. He called more often, visited for quality time, and they went out more often. Things had been back to how they were when they first started dating. Nacho had practically moved in with her, spending more time there than anywhere else when he wasn’t working for his father or Hector. He credited the pill switch for his upturn in mood. He just had to be patient.

All that came crashing down when he could no longer hold Hector off from using his father’s business as a front.

Nacho came home, taking off his jacket, boots, and dropping his keys in the dish like usual.

“Hi baby,” she called cheerily from the kitchen.

Rather than saying anything, Nacho went straight for the bedroom. By the time she could follow to see what was wrong, Nacho had closed the bathroom door and started the shower.

She knocked softly, fighting the urge to ask if everything was okay.

“What do you need?” she asked, seeking the solution, rather than dwelling on the problem. “Can I get you anything?”

After he said he needed to be alone for a while, she left, falling asleep on the couch before he reemerged to the rest of the apartment. Nacho woke her, guiding her to the bedroom where she could sleep comfortably.

Nacho took the couch, still opting to be alone with his thoughts. Don Hector would be in his father’s shop tomorrow. He tried to explain to his father that it would be temporary, but that didn’t change how disappointed he’d been to learn that his son was working with those drug dealers again.

Nacho was gone before she woke up the next morning. She decided to make lunch for him and his father in hopes that a homecooked meal would ease whatever had been bothering him.

Nacho and Hector pulled into the upholstery shop with two more guys. Nacho cursed when he saw her car in the lot. He didn’t want her here for this. He tried to keep them in the back, explaining how everything could operate. When Don Hector asked about his father, Nacho tried to redirect him. Hector spotted Manuel having lunch with ‘her’. Manuel seemed to notice at the same time, standing and staring at the man. She leaned into the doorframe to see what had caused the reaction. The only person she recognized was Nacho.

“Hello, my love,” she said, coming around the counter. “I made lunch for you and Manuel. I thought-”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

She was taken aback by his tone. Nacho had never talked to her like that.

“I didn’t think it’d be a problem. Manuel didn’t say-“

Hector mumbled something in Spanish about ‘untamed pussy.’

‘Excuse me?!” she exclaimed angrily, stepping towards Hector.

Before Hector could do anything, Nacho grabbed her by the arm, making sure to grab her purse and keys off the counter as he practically dragged her out of the shop.

Go home,” he said, once they were outside. He opened her car door and handed her the bag and keys. “Right now.”

She snatched them from his hands, got in the car, and sped out of the parking lot.

Nacho apologized to Hector when he came back into the shop. Hector accepted the apology with more derogatory comments about Nacho keeping his woman in check and a few more degrading nicknames for her. To top it off, Manuel was refusing Hector’s money, telling him to get out of his shop. Nacho kept the peace for the moment, getting his father to accept the payment. On the way out, Hector was clear about not trusting Nacho’s father.

“He’ll come around,” Nacho promised.

After things were settled with Hector, Nacho headed straight for her apartment. Her car was parked outside, but the door was slightly open. Nacho pulled out his gun and ran up to sweep the apartment. It was empty. He called and sent a few messages, even asking her friends if they’d heard from her. He fell asleep while waiting to hear anything from her. When he woke, finding that she never came home, he called again. He got her voicemail this time and left a message.

“What happened yesterday was…complicated. I’ll tell you everything. Call me back…I’m worried.”

When Nacho pulled into El Michoacano to count the takes for the week, he saw her sitting at the table opposite Hector inside. Hector was casually waving his gun around as he spoke to her.

“You want to tell her everything?” he started as Nacho walked in. “I’ll help you. She’s going to sit right here. I will show her…so it’s less complicated.” Hector shrugged.

The first dealer of the day walked in.

Nacho ignored him. “Don Hector-“

“Count the take, Ignacio.”

Nacho took a breath to steel himself, putting his hands out for emphasis. “Don Hector, please-“

Hector cocked the gun and pointed it directly at her. She couldn’t help the tears that came forward, and she struggled to keep calm. “Count the take,” Hector demanded.

Nacho raised his hands in surrender and slowly turned to sit down with his back to the situation. Halfway through counting the take, he heard her whimper. He didn’t see Hector move the gun from aiming at her chest to her forehead.

‘Shut up.” Hector groaned, slamming the gun down on the table and swapping it for his newspaper. Everyone but Hector jumped at the sound of the metal clanging against the aged wooden table.

Nacho finished the count. “You’re good,” he said.

A few dealers later, Domingo came in, and his count was short. Nacho gave him a pass; told him to make it up next week.

“Who works for who?” Hector said, without looking up from the paper. His gun was still resting ominously on the table.

Nacho got up and dragged Domingo back into the restaurant. He begged as Nacho beat him up in the kitchen. The sight broke her heart even more than seeing him collect drug money all morning.

The end of the day came, and she had seen Nacho collect from countless dealers, all of whom seemed familiar enough with him that this wasn’t a new thing. What threw her over though, was watching as he beat Domingo in the restaurant’s kitchen when he was “light.”

After the last dealer, Nacho stood, and Hector spoke again. “Not so complicated, is it?” Hector motioned for them both to leave.

Outside, she pulled out her cell phone, turned it on, and dialed a cab. Nacho noticed the new cracks on the phone and the bruises on her wrist and around her knuckles.

“Let me take you home,” he said, pushing away the thoughts of how she may have gotten the bruises.

“Cab’s already on the way,” she said, making a beeline for the sidewalk without looking in his direction.

“Please,” he insisted. “Just to make sure you get there safely.”

The ride in Nacho’s van was silent. After they pulled into the complex, Nacho followed her up to the apartment.

Nacho locked the door when they were inside. He also drew all of the curtains shut. When he turned to her, she had taken off her jacket, revealing a trail of nasty bruises up the expanse of her arm. He wasn’t surprised when she’d asked him to leave, or when she requested for him to leave his key to her apartment as well.

***

The sound of her front door opening drew her attention. Before she could grab a weapon or call out a warning, the door swung open enough to reveal Ignacio leaning on the frame for support.

He wore jeans and a bloody tank top. He had gauze taped to his shoulder and side, covering the gunshot wounds. Both were bleeding heavily, and he looked like Death.

She rushed forward to help him apply pressure to the wound on his side and get him into the bathroom. “What happened to you?” she asked frantically.

“I couldn’t go to my father,” he said weakly.

“Nacho, you need a hospital,” she said, noticing more blood as she pulled her hand away to pull out the first aid supplies and grab her cell off of the counter.

Nacho reached out to grab her wrist.

“Don’t call anyone,” he begged. The fear in his eyes taking precedence over his pained expression. “They’ll kill you.”

She looked up into his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. She put the phone down. “I don’t know how to help with this, Ignacio,” she admitted.

“Just help me clean up,” he said shakily, “Okay?” Nacho was in more pain than he’d ever been in, but he still needed to comfort her more than anything else. He hated putting her in this situation and regretted that she was the only person he could turn to, not for his own sake, but hers. She didn’t deserve any of the things she’d been through because of him.

To her surprise, someone stitched up the wounds pretty well. They were still bleeding because Nacho came straight to her after his father told him to leave. He hadn’t rested since Hector’s nephews found him in the desert.

Nacho didn’t explain anything apart from mentioning that it would put her in danger to know what was going on. She didn’t push the subject anymore. She gave him pain medicine, helped him undress, cleaned the blood and dirt from his body, and rebandaged the wounds.

They worked in silence until he saw her crying as she washed his blood from her hands. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll go-“

She sniffled, wiping the tears from her face. “You need to rest.” She went into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. By the time Nacho made in there, she was propping up the pillows so he could sleep comfortably without straining either of his wounds. She helped him get comfortable in the bed, and crawled next to him, careful not to jostle him.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I know it’s been a while since-”

“Try to rest, Ignacio,” she said softly. “We can talk later.”

She looked him in the eyes for the first time in an hour or so. He looked better than when he arrived, but he still looked terrible. How had Nacho gotten himself into this? She patted his arm gently, keeping her hand there until she fell asleep.

___

I don’t currently have a tag list for this fandom, but please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works.

Thank you so much for reading!

#better call saul #nacho x reader #nacho varga #fan fiction #fanfiction #breaking bad #nacho varga x reader #smut

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haro-whumps · 4 years

Text

Group Whumpees 4: Responsibility

CW: referenced noncon, transphobia (out of ignorance, not malice, but VERY present), modern slavery, aftermath of abuse, multiple whumpees, abrasive language

Tag list: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome-hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave @cowboysrappin @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp

This is... a LONG one...

First

Nyla and Evan helped Lilah clean up her open injuries and scabs, the many hands making light work, and they were off to join Greyson and Sasha in the kitchen in hardly any time at all. On the way there, Nyla detoured to the front facing window, and Master’s car from the night before was, indeed, gone.

She was the last to the kitchen but was able to smile and announce his absence. The nervous energy settled into relief and a bit of joy, and Nyla recounted the morning’s encounter to the others, Sasha frying up five sausages.

“He’ll be gone most of the day,” Lilah repeated, thoughtful, and Evan flicked a lock of her hair.

“And he doesn’t eat breakfast, so the bread’s all ours.”

Lilah and Evan shared a smile, and Nyla sighed. Troublemakers, both of them, Lilah couldn’t keep her face from twisting up sourly or going vacant and Evan couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, and the moment they got an inch of leash they started acting like hooligans. She was so fond of them both; she just wished they’d stop getting into trouble.

“We should talk, while he’s out,” Nyla asserted, fingertips drumming on the kitchen counter. “Compare observations and start up some guesswork on how to please him. He told us to ‘not push ourselves too hard’ today, so we can spare an hour or so for conversation, I think.”

“Is th-that really s-s-safe?” Sasha asked.

“He told us to,” Nyla repeated, fists balling, “I’ll take full blame for any ire, but he told us to, and we need to know what we’re going to do, here out. Grey, tell us what happened last night. Why were you in bed with us?”

“He didn’t want anyone, last night,” Greyson stated calmly, though his normally immobile brow furrowed. “He cited being drunk, and said he wasn’t going to hurt us, but he was displeased, though by what, I cannot tell.”

“He probably wanted a fuck,” Evan said, and everyone tensed at his angry words. “Grey and I aren’t gonna cut it, anymore. We’ve got a Master now.”

“If that’s what he wanted, he would’ve sent for one of us, then,” Nyla dismissed with a shake of her head, washing her hands before checking to see if the bread was done. Close, but not quite yet. “He might have actually been too drunk to act on whatever he wanted, and that was what caused his displeasure.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume either of those,” Greyson said contemplatively, and they all turned a wary eye on him. He leaned forward, even though there was no one else in the house to hear, and they all instinctively leaned towards him in response. “Things are… more complicated, with Master Galo. He’s one of those transvestites. I don’t know entirely what that means, for us, but I think that we shouldn’t rule any possibilities out.”

“He’s a girl?” Lilah asked, screwing up her face in confusion.

“Mm,” Greyson confirmed with a nod.

“Should we call him ‘she?’”

“I think that would be a good way to make him angry,” Nyla discouraged, crossing her arms. “Greyson, why didn’t you bring this up sooner?”

“I’m honestly still not sure what to do with this information,” Greyson said as Sasha pulled the bread out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool, waving away the steam with an oven mitt. “I didn’t want to throw us all into unnecessary concern and confusion last night, when we were all already concerned and confused.”

“And if Evan or I had gone to lay at the foot of his bed?” Nyla asked, trying not to sound accusatory, but she was a little peeved with her friend.

Greyson simply shrugged. “Then I would have told you, since it would have been relevant.”

“So if he has a cunt, does that mean Grey and I are still on fucktoy duty?” Evan asked, changing the subject in a way he probably thought was subtle.

“Don’t, um, t-trannies get s-surgeries?” Sasha asked.

“I do remember Mistress complaining about that fairly often,” Nyla agreed, and Greyson frowned.

“He hadn’t mentioned surgery when talking about his life events. Or maybe that’s what ‘going on T’ meant…”

“Going on penis? No, that starts with a p; going on… the surgery table?” Evan sounded out, pulling a sausage link and two eggs from the skillets and accepting a slice of bread from Sasha, then passing the plate to Lilah. He did it twice more with Nyla and Greyson, before accepting one for himself, and Sasha filled her own.

“Regardless,” Nyla said, accepting the plate from Evan, “we should remain respectful. Master Galo has not indicated that we should call him anything but Master, and we’ll just have to see who he wants to fuck when we guess right.”

“I h-hate all this gu-guessing,” Sasha said miserably, stabbing her fork into the sausage a little harder than she normally would. Nyla sighed, just barely, and her expression softened.

“I’ll ask him again for foods that he likes,” Nyla promised. “For tonight, potatoes. I don’t think there’s been a single guess of Mistress’s that didn’t like potatoes,” Nyla decided, looking to Greyson. He nodded in confirmation; as the designated waiter, he’d seen more of Mistress’s guests at the dinner table than the rest of them combined.

“I c-can do pot-tatoes,” Sasha agreed, and Nyla smiled.

“Do you think he’ll want the garden redone?” Lilah asked, staring at the door that would lead to the back exit. Nyla screwed her lips up, and took a bite of bread and egg, buying herself time to think.

“Do you think he’ll care?” Evan asked, rubbing a hand up and down Lilah’s back. “Worrying about gardens and flowers doesn’t seem very manly.”

“Lawncare is ‘a man’s job,’ though,” Lilah reminded.

“But if he’s not a-actually a m-man..?”

“I think we should probably operate under the assumption that he is a man, just not one that Mistress would approve of,” Greyson stated.

“Grey’s right,” Nyla agreed, “And Mistress is dead, and Master is here, so it’s his outlook that we should be concerning ourselves with, now.” Nyla smiled at Lilah reassuringly. “I’ll find out if he wants anything changed. Until then, carry on normally, and skip mowing for now.”

Nyla turned to Greyson next. “I’ll Attend, tonight, and if the displeasure continues we’ll take a new approach. Serve less wine at dinner tonight.” Greyson nodded.

“Are you gonna solve my problems too?” Evan asked, and she knew that although his tone was flippant, he was only half joking. She wasn’t though.

“Yes,” she said firmly, approaching him and crossing her arms, having to crane her neck back to stare up at him from this close but that was fine. She knew he was unsettled by this kind of proximity. “You, keep your mouth shut around Master. Don’t go peeving him for no reason; he’s not like Mistress.”

Evan met her gaze, and she couldn’t handle that, she could not handle that.

“Evan,” she said, a little harsher and a little more desperately, “You’ve seen how big he is,” she couldn’t help the crack in her voice on the words seen, “He could break you, Evan, he could kill you without too much effort. I know you made a habit of getting Mistress angry just so it would be over quicker, but you can not do that anymore.”

Evan’s eyes no longer met hers, sweat beading but that wasn’t enough.

“Promise me.”

“Nyla…”

“Evan, promise me you won’t do anything stupid or deadly. Promise me.”

“Ha… you’re really not having it, huh?”

“I’m not,” she agreed, voice smoother, now, controlled. She’d always had the best control, out of all of them.

“...I promise I won’t get myself killed,” Evan said, and she huffed. It was as good as she would get without this turning into a full on spat, and none of their nerves could handle that at the time.

“Alright. He hasn’t hurt any of us yet and he’s very friendly. He liked dinner last night, regularly attends the gym, and has claimed the turquoise guest bedroom. He’s a transvestite, Mistress Bethany’s nephew, and he likes spinach, apples, celery, ginger, pasta and carrots. Do we know anything else about him?”

“He doesn’t care for his father,” Greyson answered. “When he was a child, he enjoyed the pool and antique musicals.”

“The pool and musicals are things we can work with,” Nyla said, feeling a little better just from having that much more information to go off of, “And we’ll be careful to steer clear regarding his father. Anything else?”

A quick survey of the kitchen confirmed that that was it, Sasha wringing her hands, Lilah gone all distant and Quiet again, Greyson’s eyes both sharp and tired, Evan sulking.

“Alright.” Nyla brushed down her apron. “We’ve been ordered to take it easy, today. I don’t know what that means, but focus on completing the smaller, more specialized tasks than heavy maintenance, alright?”

Four nods met her words, and she nodded as well. “Good. Let’s hop to it then.”

A loud noise from the front of the mansion had the blood in Nyla’s veins run like ice, porcelain smile reflexively stretched across her face and her spine ramrod straight, hands clasped neatly in front of her. Sasha jumped, Greyson stood from the kitchen stool with his face void and posture perfect, Lilah’s arms wrapped around herself like snakes, and Evan’s eyes blew wide.

Three more times, the sound came, the loose branch from the front maple finally swinging low in the strong winds outside.

“...Actually, Evan, would you go ahead and help Lilah with that branch in the front yard?” Nyla suggested, not quite able to pull the perfect smile off her face just yet.

Evan nodded, slinging his arm around Lilah’s shoulders--and Nyla smiled more genuinely at how his presence always managed to bring her back out. Her eyes were never all the way glassy, with Evan paying attention to her, even on the worse nights. She took a deep, only somewhat-shaky breath, and then patted her apron again, a few more times than strictly necessary.

“Right. Meet back here for lunch, everyone.”

And with that, she spun and strode out into the house. She woke up the tablet in the computer room and ordered the groceries Master Galo had requested, as well as more pasta, carrots, some beans, potatoes, and rice. She’d make a second, more comprehensive order when Master Galo gave her a better idea of his desires, but for now it couldn’t hurt to stock up on dietary staples. She pulled her notepad out of her apron’s pocket and jotted down “groceries 1” then immediately crossed it out, and wrote “groceries 2” beneath it. She quickly wrote down her list for the day, and then set out to complete the tasks.

She met Greyson in Master’s bedroom, helped him strip the sheets off the bed and put on new ones, then left him with Master’s discarded clothes from the night before and the unwashed bedding. She watered the potted plant Master had brought in, simply because she wasn’t sure if that should be Evan and Grey’s job or hers, and when that was the case she defaulted to taking it as hers. She made a list of the personal grooming tools Master Galo possessed, lifting the bottles of shampoo and soap to check how full they were. If it were mistress, Nyla would add another bottle of conditioner to the second list of groceries, but Master Galo had significantly less hair than she did. Better wait on that.

Master Galo did not, judging from the pile of items he’d removed from the walls and tables and whatnot, like the particularly gaudy form of art Mistress Bethany liked. She made note of that, and decided to revisit that later. She checked the stock on laundry materials--good--and if Lilah had enough gasoline--she did--before moving onto Mistress’s craft room.

Nyla stared at it helplessly for only a moment. Mistress had required highly specific amounts of thread, beads, and fabric. Too much and there wouldn't be room to store them, too little and Mistress might run out, and that meant Nyla would be thoroughly beaten. Mistress never told Nyla what she had or hadn’t used; it was Nyla’s job to catalogue supplies every day, and make new orders every single day.

Learn Master’s hobbies and buy supplies, Nyla added to her list, closing the door to the craft room behind her. She would ask Master Galo how he would prefer to dispose of the materials. Ideally some other cousin or somesuch would want to inherit the supplies and would take care of it. Otherwise, Nyla felt the project looming over her head. She added garbage bags to grocery list 2, and then added totes and other moving containers as an extra precaution.

Her most time consuming task suddenly no longer relevant, Nyla assisted her family with theirs, jotting down notes and their concerns as they came. Every now and then, worry would ping at her. She’d Attended Mistress plenty of nights, but never for sex, only for pain and to offer midnight assistance. Nyla had never worked on her back before. Evan uniformly hated it, but Greyson gave mixed reviews. Master Galo was large, and strong, and frightening, so Nyla couldn’t spend too much time on those lines of thought, always dragging herself back to cataloguing belongings, checking in on her family’s progress, and she even had the time to stop by the boiler room and check the water heater for any new leaks. At lunch, she felt fairly accomplished, almost-ready to face their Master.

How to approach him, though? Mistress was at her most approachable between dinner and Jeopardy. The wine wouldn't have made her too likely to strike, yet, still moving through her system, and Mistress never took well to requests after her nightly show. But Master? Nyla had no idea.

It meant guessing. It meant relearning everything she’d been viciously, painfully taught when she was fourteen and new here. It meant just… going for it, with no experience to take comfort in. Fine.

She was the head of the household, and that was her job. So she'd do it.

Galo had hoped that a trip to the gym would help clear his head. It had been a nice distraction, but not much else. So he called up the funeral place and got some groundwork laid out, and then wrote the email to his family and called his father preemptively, hopefully getting points for the fact that he’d called first, but probably not. And then his sister called, so he managed to weasel his way out of his father’s call with only an extra ten minutes after the beeps, and he called his sister back, and then his uncle called, and then a cousin wanted to know why the hell Galo had been the one put in charge and it had taken everything left in Galo’s fraying patience not to scream back, “Because I'm the only responsible member of this family!”

And so phonecall after phonecall went, and Galo had taken a painkiller before he’d dialed his father but he was still left with a headache when he was done. He couldn't even blame dehydration for it; he’d drunk plenty throughout the calls, wishing his water was alcohol.

He had hoped, rather vainly, that his subconscious would process whatever was happening in Auntie Bethany’s house while he worked out and talked to his godawful family. He tried to think about the people there, about the enormity of what had happened to them, and his brain still hit a blank wall.

It was too much, so, break it down. What did he, for a fact, know?

He pulled an old, beat up notebook out of his computer bag, flipped past the work he’d done in college, and clicked his pen.

The Den is a bad place

Nyla doesn’t like having her face touched

Galo felt his head clear, a little. He drew a line down the middle of the page and started a second column.

Auntie Bethany kept five slaves in a perpetual state of fear, and tortured them.

Back on the first column:

Greyson has burn scars all over his arms and whip/knife/??? scars all over his back

Sasha cannot speak, y/n questions only, or get Nyla

Don’t flex in front of them

Nyla is in charge(???) Probably.

Lilah is the gardener

Sasha is the cook

Greyson is a waiter? Probably?

Evan… housework?

Galo genuinely wasn’t sure what Evan and Greyson’s jobs were, but, whatever. They knew what they were doing. A sour thought twisted in his stomach, and he made another bulletpoint in the right column.

Auntie Bethany

It was too awful to write. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to spell it out. Not his own family, his flesh and blood. But shying away from the truth would probably only cause them harm, down the line.

Auntie Bethany raped Greyson. Probably Evan, too.

Auntie Bethany had been a deeply queerphobic individual. Galo could at least be certain that she would never have fucked Nyla, Sasha, or Lilah, as pathetic of a comfort as that was. But the fact that she’d--

Focus.

Lilah is very injured right now. Reassign her?

Nyla orders groceries, she wants foods I like. Think up some ideas.

Did he still have his blue highlighter? He did! He highlighted that one, since it required him to do something. Do something, ha, good idea. He really, really needed to think of what to do. These people needed help, and at present he was the only one who could give it to them. He flipped the page over and started, on a blank sheet, a new list, separate from his observations and theories.

Ideas!

Give clear, achievable orders.

Look into therapists who have a precedence with treating abused slaves.

Reassign Lilah?

He’d written that on the first list but eh, it belonged here more.

Keep acting cheerful?

The problem was: he wasn’t sure if that was working. His flighty reflex-brain had been insistent on acting calm, friendly, approachable, like nothing was wrong and everything was okay, but was that the best option? He frightened them so badly… But if not that, then what else?

Briefly, he thought of maybe scaring them into acting out, and then showing them it was fine for them to do that, but he quickly discarded the idea. He’d seen enough of Greyson and Sasha to know that whatever he did, they’d just accept it, and probably break down crying part way through. Whatever Auntie Bethany had done to them, she’d snuffed out their resistance.

He instinctively rejected the idea of playing pretend at a cruel master, but then forced himself to reexamine the idea. Not a cruel master, no, but maybe… a strict one? Give them order, stability, expectations.

Yeah, right. Galo was a reliable dude, but he’d never been strict a day in his life. He’d… half-play at Master Galo, since that’s technically what he was, but given his own abilities, what he’d seen so far, and what he knew of human psychology, keeping things friendly and chill would probably be the best route, especially at the start. He could settle into something more serious as they got to know each other better, and the five of them started to accept that he wouldn’t hurt them, but right now? Right now they’d surely take anything other than 100% happy as a sign of displeasure, and catastrophize accordingly.

Oh… maybe they could help Galo with funeral plans. A way for them to feel helpful and successful, and genuinely so.

Aunty Bethany had more than enough flowers on her estate to bury her in.

Funeral plans: flowers, setup, catering?

Galo wondered what Sasha did all day. Cooking for six surely couldn’t be… that time consuming? Maybe she was just slow.

Ask Nyla how quickly Sasha is able to cook large quantities of food, and if catering is an option

Asking Sasha herself, even if it could be framed as a yes or no question, would probably just give the poor woman the shakes again.

Galo read over his lists, and felt… better. Like, still garbage, definitely still garbage, but less headachey and less helpless in the face of it all.

He went back to his apartment, and surveyed his belongings. He’d brought his necessities to his aunt’s--his house the night before, but that still left, like, everything else. Hm. He was rich now. He could hire movers. He could pay people to do this shit for him. But also like… did he need the bed? The couch? No. He had no emotional attachment to most of his furniture, thrifted or found on curbs or given to him by a college roommate, it was mostly just the smaller stuff that was important.

He took some pictures, listed some craigslist ads, and then looked at a couple different moving companies. He skimmed reviews, searching through services that were pricey enough he would’ve once never even glanced at them, searching for people who took their time and packed things sensibly, and carefully. Satisfied, he called up the one he liked best, and scheduled the day after the funeral.

And then, because he was rich as hell now, and he could, he typed out a two-weeks notice and printed it out from his apartment’s printer. He would swing by his work… tomorrow or sometime, and drop this off. It was more of a “Hey I’ll be there next week” notice, since he’d taken this one off for funeral related reasons (and also slave related reasons, he knew now), and if his boss wanted to let him off the same day, he’d absolutely take it. It wasn’t like they were short-handed, at the moment, so Galo very easily could be staring down a very early retirement. He thought again of going back to school, once he sorted out everything with the slaves.

That would be nice.

He packed up his game systems, the book he was in the middle of, and his good luck charm, and left his apartment to head back to his house. He should probably start the process of letting his landlord know he was breaking his lease, and pay that off, but eh. He could do that… later. It was early enough in the month that he had plenty of time.

When he got through the front door (had it been oiled? He remembered it being heavier, the night before) he did a double take at the pile of gaudy garbage he’d made of his aunt’s weird… “art.” It was bigger than the night before.

He squinted down at a little green-red-white-gold “Egyptian” bird statue. He definitely hadn’t seen that the night before, though he couldn’t exactly say he was unhappy to see it in the garbage pile.

“Welcome home, Master,” Nyla greeted, gliding into the foyer with that unnatural grace of hers. In a different life, maybe she could’ve been a dancer.

“Hi, Nyla. I’m glad you’re here, I wanted--”

Galo cut off when Nyla dropped down to her knees, fluid as silk, cupped Galo’s hand and wrist, and placed a delicate kiss to his palm. Right. Hand kissing was a thing, he should add that to his list. He briefly considered discouraging it, but, well, it was a harmless gesture, and he needed to be careful about picking his battles here at the start.

“Thanks, Nyla,” he said, giving her a little pat to the head. He then extended his hand to her, and said, “I wanted to ask you a couple questions about how things, like, operate around here?” She placed her hand inside his, but when she rose it was weightless, no pressure to his hand in the slightest. Maybe not a dancer, maybe, like, a wraith or something.

“I would be happy to answer all questions, Master,” Nyla said, her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her smile looking genuine. Galo smiled back; maybe this wouldn’t be so awful after all? “If now is a good time, Master, may I ask you questions as well?”

“Yeah, yeah, now’s good.” Galo shifted his duffle on his shoulder. “Let me set this stuff down first? Is the living room good for you?”

Nyla bowed a little, eyes lowered deferentially. “The living room is a fine choice, Master. May I assist in carrying anything?”

“No offense,” Galo said, giving her a very brief once over, “but I’m pretty sure I’m better equipped to be carrying heavy shit than you are, Nyla.”

“Of course, Master,” she said, and there was that nervous little twitch, the way she locked up. Nyla was… a very good actor, Galo thought to himself. It would be hard to suss out what was a genuine reaction from her and what she’d been trained to show. Knowing Aunty Bethany, she’d probably told Nyla that girls are prettier when they’re smiling with their mouths shut.

Galo settled his duffle to the side, where hopefully no one would trip over it. He’d unpack it later. “So, Nyla,” he said, sitting down on the weirdly shaped, petite couch-adjacent thing that looked best able to hold Galo’s weight, “what is it you want to know?”

Nyla moved like water over well-worn stones, the way she knelt down at Galo’s feet, shoulder touching the couch lookalike but all of her weight on her ankles. He hoped his brain got over how fluidly she moved soon, because it was gonna get old fast, if he got taken aback every time Nyla did literally anything. Did his aunt insist on this, too? Was this part of what she did to them?

“Master, if I may trouble you for your preferences in meals, I would be grateful.”

“Oh, yeah, here,” Galo pulled a folded up piece of notebook paper from his back pocket and handed it to Nyla. “I mostly just jotted down general ideas and like, overarching stuff I like? Instead of specific meals, but I trust Sasha’s judgement.”

Nyla took the paper in slender fingers (she was too thin; was his aunt responsible for that, too?) and unfolded it with silent delicacy. She read over it briefly, and then refolded it and tucked it into her apron pocket.

“This is perfect, Master, thank you for your thoughtfulness and effort.”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, Nyla,” he said, coaxing and gentle as he could, but it still made her lock up, smile looking fixed, “would you sit with your legs bent in front of you? Like, sit with your butt on the floor and your legs, like, criss-cross-applesauce, but both of your knees facing the same direction. Yeah, like that, and lean your weight against the lip of the couch here--perfect, Nyla, thank you.” Galo smiled at her, glad now that her poor ankles weren’t taking the weight of literally her entire body. “Would you be okay if I touched your hair?”

A moment’s hesitation. “If Master wouldn’t find it troublesome…”

Galo chuckled, just a little, even though his heart ached for her. He placed his palm gently on her head, and pet slowly, carefully down, before repeating the motion. She seemed, at the very least, not to mind it. “What else did you need?”

“At your leisure, Master, would you find time to survey the estate gardens and see if they are to your liking? We will gladly change anything you disapprove of.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m sure they look fine, but that’s actually related to one of my questions.”

“Yes Master?” Nyla asked, and Galo would call the tone there eagerness.

“Should Lilah be the gardener? I know she’s not, like, young-young, but I’ve seen some of my aunt’s yardwork equipment and it seems kinda big for someone that small. Especially since she’s, y’know, all injured and stuff.”

“Lilah is the best gardener of the group, Master. I doubt anyone would do as well as she does, and she’s never been injured by any of the equipment, Master. However, if her role displeases you, Master, we will not hesitate to acclimate to your desires.”

So… Auntie Bethany had put each and every bruise and cut on Lilah’s body. It was a hard thought to swallow. “It doesn’t displease me,” Galo said, voice quiet. “If you all think she’s the best fit, you’d know better than me. Please tell her to ask for help if something’s too cumbersome for her, though.”

“Yes Master.”

Galo gave her a little scritch, smiling encouragingly. “What else?”

“Hobbies, Master. I would like to know your routine and hobbies, so that we may best provide for them.”

Galo tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Mistress enjoyed needlework and beading, Master. Her craft room is very full of her supplies, which I regularly stocked. I would delightedly do the same for you, if I knew what your hobbies are.”

“Oh, uh, video games, mostly, which don’t really require… like, physical materials. I like working out, but I’d prefer to go to a gym than have equipment here. It gets me out of bed in the morning, y’know? Um…”

Ha, Galo was a pretty boring person, huh? Working out and gaming, not exactly the most interesting set of hobbies…

“Thank you for informing me, Master. What would you like done with Mistress’s old craft room?”

“Uhh, probably just pack it up. If none of my cousins want it, I’ll drop it by a thrift store or something. Maybe donate it to one of those places that does crafts with kids? I dunno, I’ll find somewhere to donate it.”

“Yes Master, thank you sir.”

“Anything else?” Galo asked. She sounded like she was done but it was better to ask.

“No, Master, thank you for indulging your servant.”

“Uh, hardly an indulgence, Nyla. It’s good for you to ask questions: I don’t know what you don’t know.”

Was that worded weird? It took Nyla a moment to process, it seemed, before she answered back, “Yes Master, I will continue to ask questions, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla,” Galo said, giving her hair another scritch. “So, hey,” Galo wished he knew how to start sentences without making her stiffen, “does Lilah grow flowers, do you know?”

“Yes, Master, is there a kind you like?”

“Uh, lilies?”

“There are a number of lilies that can be brought into the house for you, Master.”

“Sweet. So this would actually be for Auntie Bethany’s funeral this Saturday, and I would need them in arrangements. Do you think Lilah could make flower arrangements, or would I be better off hiring a professional?”

“Lilah is very competent, Master, and has done well enough to please Mistress for the past few years. She can do a sample arrangement for you, Master, so you may see if her work is to your standards.”

“Sure! Have that be her job for tomorrow. Thanks. And, on the same subject: do you think Sasha would do okay making horderves for the funeral, or should I cater?”

Galo was careful to provide a second option. If he gave a “no” answer, that would make it more okay than telling Galo no unprompted. He was trying, trying his absolute best, to remain delicate here.

“Sasha is quite competent, Master, and I am certain would be relieved to have enough work to keep her so busy. May I know what you would like to serve, so I may order the materials?”

“Yes, but not tonight. I need to call the funeral place again tomorrow morning and get some suggestions. I’ll get that to you then?”

“Thank you, Master. You are generous, sir.”

Galo frowned. That wasn’t generous. It wasn’t anything worth mentioning. But he needed to be clever, redirect Nyla, not shut her down entirely.

“And thank you, Nyla. You’re being a big help.”

He watched her lips part, her chest expand with a breath and then hover, uncertain, but before she could figure out what to say they were interrupted by Greyson very quietly announcing, “Master, dinner is served.”

It was delicious, and this time, Galo asked Greyson to pass along his appreciation to Sasha. He couldn’t avoid her entirely, he knew, that wouldn’t make her any less scared of him, but he could keep things infrequent at the start. After dinner he took a quick jog around the property, amazed once again by the sheer vastness of the garden. Was it fair that only one person, and a little person at that, was in charge of maintaining all this? Galo had second thoughts about Nyla’s advice, but unless he saw Lilah being actively exhausted by the labor, he would follow Nyla’s direction for now. It would be important to show that he valued and trusted the things they said to him. Just not at the expense of anyone’s wellbeing, which he thought a fair compromise.

He looked at Auntie Bethany’s craft room, but was quickly overwhelmed and left. That was a lot of tiny drawers, a lot of baskets of fabric, a lot of embroidery hoops and pincushions and things Galo didn’t even know the names of. Movers. He’d have movers deal with… that.

The pile of weird, gaudy shit had grown even larger. Galo sifted through it, checking that it was indeed all awful, intolerable junk that he wanted gone, and it all was.

Nyla and Evan entered the foyer, each of them on a side of the fugliest imitation Greek statuette Galo had ever seen. Where had Auntie Bethany even kept that?

“Master Galo!” Nyla greeted when she saw him, after setting the statue down. Evan sank fluidly to his knees, head low, while Nyla approached him, hands clasped and smiling wide. “Do all the items present fail to meet your standards, Master?”

“Yeah, yeah they sure do. You guys are doing great,” Galo praised, slowly reaching out and patting Nyla on top of the head. She seemed to like that? He had no way of actually knowing, but he was pretty sure she enjoyed it. “Thanks, Evan, for all your help,” Galo said, approaching him. He extended his hand half-curiously and sure enough, when Evan raised his head he kissed Galo’s palm. Galo smiled at him, admittedly befuddled but, hey, of all the weird habits Auntie Bethany could have and likely did drill into them, this one wasn’t so bad. Carefully, he pat Evan’s head, but retracted his hand when the man went entirely rigid.

“I’ve had a long day,” Galo said, turning back to Nyla. “I’m turning in early. Night.”

“Goodnight, Master Galo,” Nyla and Evan chorused, perfectly in sync.

Galo did not see Nyla standing there, smile unmoving, eyes unblinking, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white. Galo did not witness Evan slowly stand, and place his hand warmly on top of hers. Galo didn’t hear Evan lean in and whisper that Nyla would be alright, that with men it went faster, anyways. Galo did not hear Nyla press a kiss to Evan’s cheek and tell him that she would be fine, yes, and to tell the others that they were done for the day.

Galo did hear her knock on his door while he was pressing his fingers gently into the soil of his potted plant, befuddled by the moisture there, and he did see her enter, her hands smoothing down her apron before she folded them once again in front of her.

“Nyla?” Galo asked, his memories with Greyson the night before vividly returning, sickly aware that this was probably going to be round two. “Why aren’t you in your room?”

Nyla didn’t move, barely twitched, her smile relentless. She took longer to respond, that time, than she had since Galo had arrived. “I watered the plant earlier today, Master,” she blurted, for a certain value of blurted. It was probably blurting, for her.

“You, oh!” Galo turned back to it, cup of water still in his hand, unpoured. “Thank you, Nyla. I appreciate how attentive you are, but please don’t do that anymore.” Galo left the windowsill and placed the cup on the bedside table. He smiled at her, he wasn’t unhappy, he didn’t want her to feel like she’d messed up, he just wanted her to not do it anymore. “I like having something to take care of, okay? Watering my plant is part of my routine. It’s a responsibility I enjoy.”

“Yes Master, I apologize. I will do better, Master.”

“Thank you Nyla,” he said, approaching her very slowly. He wished he hadn’t taken his shirt off already, getting ready to shower. It made this encounter feel even more charged, and that wasn’t exactly something he wanted. “If that’s all, then why don’t you go ahead and go to your room?”

Nyla kept smiling at him, although now it definitely looked forced. “I am here to Attend, Master. My body is present and available for your service and ple--”

“No,” Galo cut her off, raising a hand between them. He was far from her face, but she flinched anyway. Galo took a deep breath. So much of him was screaming, he just wanted to send her away, maybe cry, maybe hit something. He wanted to storm down to the mortician and revive Auntie Bethany so he could strangle her with his own hands. But he needed to address this, as much as he absolutely hated it, because it clearly wasn’t going to go away on its own.

“Nyla,” Galo said, trying very hard to keep his voice even. “What do you mean when you say you’re here to ‘Attend’ me?”

“You may punish me, if you like, Master. Beat me or whip me or slice me as you see fit.”

“You haven’t done anything worth punishing, Nyla,” Galo said, gentle and firm as his nauseous voice could manage.

“If not punishment, then simply a reminder of my place, that I am subservient to you and you are always able to do anything you wish with me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Galo said, hating how this sounded like she was reciting something, like she’d been forced to memorize these words exactly. How could he stop playing into her script? What could he do to break this? But at the same time, he needed to know. He hadn’t known that Auntie Bethany would ‘remind them of their place,’ he hadn’t known that there was some sort of ritualistic punishment. It was almost as bad as--

“Then, of course, you may fuck me, Master. I am,” a hitch of breath that hit Galo like ice in the gut, “open, Master, and available to serve you however you wish.”

Galo reached out a hand and stopped himself, hovering near her cheek. Nyla didn’t like her face touched. He changed course and set his palm on top of her head, staring down at her with an ache inside him.

“I’m not going to rape you, Nyla. I promise, I swear to you.” He gently reached out his other hand and delicately pried her hands apart. She was gripping them hard enough to hide their shaking, but she trembled in his palm. “No more of this, alright? I don’t want you to, to Attend me. Any of you. No more coming to my room at night and offering things, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Will you promise me, for all five of you?”

“Yes, Master. I promise, we will not come to your room at night or,” Nyla licked dry lips, “offer to Attend you any longer.”

“Thank you Nyla,” Galo said, rubbing a thumb over her pale hair. “Now go to bed, alright?”

“Yes Master,” Nyla whispered, and swaned away, light as a ghost.

#whump #gw #multiple whumpees #referenced noncon #aftermath of torture #slavery #slave whump #transphobia tw #Nyla #Galo #Sasha #Greyson #Evan #Lilah #mine #writing

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toshkakoshka · 3 years

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jesse/gustavo: because i swear to god i will riot on the -10 fics available

i swear to god there has only been ONE (1) FIC thats meant way too much to me in this entire tag; op fucking got it from here and they didn’t even have to do any goddamn kissing.

yes, of course, gustavo is a favorite villain and jesse is just. my sweet baby. so i was like ayo why not and then i started laughing to myself, suddenly the camera zooms to my face and BOOM.

la idea.

unfortunately, if anybody knew me well enough, if i get a good idea i fuck around way too hard on it, regret it, and then immediately obsess over it.

so:

why this exactly? i’m a sucker for unexplained concepts. i’m also very bad at picking a common preference, and as much as i don’t like walt/jesse to be romanticized it’s like... hard to push away the fact that their relationship explains the reason why jesse can’t exactly leave.

jesse’s a sweetheart. he’ll take the responsibility to care about anyone and he’s just so malleable and vulnerable, and it’s horrible to witness the fact the show really hammers that shit in. walt is just incredibly unworthy of the concern he actually shows him and we all know it. he doesn’t belong to this world, he deserves to have a good life with people he loves, but these worlds obviously just.... don’t fit.

at least, if you turn the perspective into something to where this has to be his life now.

i dunno. you wanna pick all the men in jesse’s life? it’s not the... well. it wasn’t the considered option but it’s certainly better than walt; and so we pick: Gustavo Fring.

first impression? awful. but fortunately for jesse, gustavo’s actually seen the potential in this kid. i mean, you gotta be very special if you’re the junkie who gets picked to do work over someone who actually has knowledge over this shit, right? that’s the fascination. the intrigue. but he thinks, for the fact he’s witnessed how innocent this kid actually is, that it’s easy to manipulate.

not so fast: jesse knows how to read through situations now. he knows how gustavo’s words and ways are, he knows he’s dangerous, what does this dinner mean? a personal warning. gustavo is not happy, but he’s begrudgingly impressed that jesse knows how to read it the way it is.

it’s not about the challenge, that gustavo’s intrigued by. it’s the fact that he was right about having to find that there’s more to jesse than just his first impression.

also, do yall like... notice that gustavo has a very specific way of smiling when he’s being the boss of los pollos hermanos. the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. a real smile always includes your eyes crinkling, but the more you look into this man’s eyes it’s genuinely just. plastic. gustavo has never smiled outside of that incident. gustavo has never expressed any emotion outside of pure rage and terror, meanwhile back in the older days, he actually used to take better action.

guess who actually let him have the smirk of pride?

jesse.

back in the mexico epsiode, where the kid proved himself to actually be a leader in leading this shithole of a lab? yeah, sure, big dick = being good impression for power, probably also cements the fact that he’s incredibly useful for the future of the empire (lmao what empire am i right haashdahfhdf *sobs*), but my ass has Witnessed both better call saul and breaking bad to fucking confirm that this is probably the only genuine time gustavo has smirked. IT REACHED THIS DUDE’S EYE, LIKE, IDK WITH YOU BUT THAT’S A FEAT IN ITSELF EVEN IF IT’S JSUT A SLIGHT TWITCH. IM PROBABLY GOING INSANE BUT IT LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE

you know what makes me salty is that it seems like not a lot of fics invest in this fact, but gus seems to just have the absolute worst time handling emotions. yeah, sure, all of these guys are dudes who repressed their trauma, but we all have FIRST HAND WITNESS as to how that fucking came to be. his emotions disappeared from losing the one person who he’s had such an intimate connection with, it’s probably even the last time he’s cried or screamed considering we see none of that shit. gustavo twitches, shakes, but the rest of his rage comes from killing people and even that it’s just pure silence. he’s so viscerally broken that it’s actually heartbreaking to know how easily he can just shut it out until he’s alone.

and i bring this up ‘cause this is the factor of potential in the relationship that i’m obsessed with. i’ve been absolutely taken by the headcanon that max used to be like jesse, he had a talent in picking things up but had the unfortunate habit of using in the middle of it all.

it’s a punch to the gut. seeing someone young, inexperienced but already so exhausted. gus doesn’t know if it’s pleasant or if it’s absolutely splitting, but for every twitch in gus’s expression and the way he’s slowly approaching jesse beckons him into having to forcefully realize that the walls that he’s put up are slowly, ever so slightly, reaching.

for the first time, gustavo wants to feel it for himself.

it’s about what could have been, really. he feels affection for him, and he’s... he’s not afraid, or angry about it, it’s more of something confusing and nostalgic and it’s awful, but he wants to hold jesse’s face in his hands and care for him the way he knows how.

or, if he still ever really remembers to.

he tries not to let it get to him.

for jesse, on the other hand, we know what’s going on with him: it’s horrible. it’s unfortunate. someone come give this kid a hug (*AHEM*)

he’s the before process of everybody involved in this goddamn show.

what could this guy possibly ever really see in a monster like gus?

well, for one thing, in spite of everything, he could never stomach another death unless it really had to be done. even then, he’s only human. and because he knows that gus has told him that he sees something in him, that’s given him that leverage to know what kind of person gus must be.

like, he’s curious. but he also wants to hear that he can make somebody proud, and that somebody could adore him for that. (and they do, don’t worry baby)

so what’s jesse’s end on the bargain?

what he wants in a man is a figure who actually deserves the care he gives. he craves affection and love and is unintentionally working through those barriers, wanting to know things from gus that the guy has never really bothered to specify.

he... hates to think about it. but theres something that he really, really wants from gus’s positive attention. it’s earned, and deserving, and it’s rare but gus wants to be a person sometimes, too. jesse makes him feel like a person every time he fucking drags him through the dirt, but the fact that he’s never changed the way he’s spoken means that it’s the equal footing they have to be on.

so sometimes he accidentally catches the looks: the unrestrained relaxed demeanor gus adapts, lingering grasps on his shoulders. to him, gus is a man who’s probably never touched anybody without the intent of strangling to death, but he’s about to be wronged. semi-wronged. gustavo has never given affection in a long time, but now he’s giving this random kid a soft spot because it’s a relationship that he for once has never been yelled at for being all wrong or doing everything badly.

maybe that’s why jesse wants to know about it. being special will always mean so much to him, because clearly it’s been difficult to get that. intimacy is just a differrent thing when it comes to the both of them. it always starts with attachment.

#letra #breaking bad #gustavo fring #jesse pinkman #im crying idk if mkaing a breaking bad blogs gonna be worth this but heres my first essay headcanon for this fandom lmaooooooooooooooooooooo #ugh shoulda remembered that old ass fandoms just. have to be utilized with the recent tag so hgngngngnggdsnfdkjlfdakdafnkkadf #jestavo #<- yes #it is what u think it is #anyway its 3:33 am here #after this yall gone hear my horrible impulse au which is just jesse being a twitch streamer selling gamerboy bath water while he lives #with gustavo whos gaming against his will #his old ass boyfriend is exhausted of him

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someonefantastic · 3 years

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If You Thought the Head Trauma was Bad…

More migraine Shawn and roommate stuff! Basically I headcanon that Shawn, Gus, and Juliet all lived in the loft together between s8 and the first movie. Also if you want more fics on Shawn and migraines, then feel free to check out my day 3 or @bijulesspookyohara's day 5. Shoutout to the folks of the psych discord, primarily @victoriantrashjohn for coming up with the concept and jackal switch for a lot of these migraine remedies. Oh and also @tonystarksspoopyhouseofkids because she drew this adorable pic of Shawn that inspired a scene in this. And shoutout to @chaosintheavenue for beta reading this! Summary: Shawn has a migraine. It's a good thing his best friend and his girlfriend are there to help. Warnings: migraines, nausea, ambulances ___ Shawn groaned as he snuggled deeper into the couch, barely even able to open his eyes. It had been an incredibly long day- he had spent most of it trying to infiltrate an illegal jewelry ring with little success, just another failure on his quest for Juliet’s engagement ring- and he was in the middle of a full blown migraine. He had seen it coming, recognized that the sharp pains in his brain and the small ripples of nausea could easily lead to later pain, but he had ignored it, instead letting the image of his girlfriend (fiancėe’s) elated face spur him to work harder.

And now he was suffering the consequences. No ring, no joyous girlfriend (fiancėe), just a massive, brain pounding, vision blurring migraine.

He sighed, pulling the fluffy blanket tighter around him. He was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, blanket over his head, its soft fabric enveloping him. A pair of child-sized kitty earmuffs were placed squarely on his temples while the sounds of 80s heavy metal filled the air. The shades had been drawn keeping the sun from invading- not that there was much on a rainy San Francisco evening- and the room was cast in a red glow, the source being a small red LED candle that Jules had bought him. It was cozy and nice and he could almost forget the incessant pain in his head.

There was a jiggling at the door and Juliet and Gus walked in, their loud joyous laughter causing him to wince. They paused, and he caught Juliet frowning as Gus walked over and collapsed into the armchair besides him.

Juliet’s hair was falling out of her half-ponytail, Gus’ tie was slipping from its knot, they smelled like coffee.

“Headache?” He asked, voice much quieter.

Shawn barely nodded, squeezing his eyes tight as sharp pains radiated through his skull.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Juliet’s soft voice spoke from his side. Warm fingers gently brushed his hair and he relaxed into her touch. “Did you take anything?”

His voice was strained, “Ibuprofen, a few hours ago.”

Gus spoke up, “He could take acetaminophen. It works differently than ibuprofen so it won’t cause any problems.”

“Perfect,” Her lips pressed against his forehead, “I’m going to go get changed and get you some meds.”

“Thank you,” He muttered, sad when she pulled away.

“Can you get me some too?” Gus asked, beginning to undo his tie, “My side is killing me.”

“Sure thing.”

After her small footsteps faded away, Shawn cracked an eye open. “What’s up with you?”

Gus frowned. “I pulled a muscle lifting boxes for that cute girl in marketing.”

His memory flashed back. A woman in blue, long black hair, Gus doing the thing with his nose. “Michelle?”

“Yeah… it was all for nothing, I overheard her talking about some dude named ‘Levi’.”

“Tough luck bud. That’s a solid name.”

“You know that’s right.”

Shawn’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed Gus rubbing his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Hey, where is the heating pad?”

Shawn jerked his head back, groaning as the motion caused the throbbing to double. That wasn’t his brightest idea. “Under Jules’ side of the bed. Just make sure to put it back when you’re done, she needs it for cramps.”

“Ah,” Gus nodded, standing up, “Sure thing.”

A stain on Gus’ pant leg, the carpet was rumpled, an empty can under the chair.

He shut his eyes tight again, trying to stop himself from noticing, an in vain attempt to ward off his abilities. Instead he flashed backwards, various images and memories jerking to the forefront of his mind, waves of nausea close behind.

His blue bouncy ball in fourth grade, divorce papers being signed, a bright smile on a beautiful blonde.

His jaw clenched, swallowing roughly as he tried to keep the contents of his stomach down. He leaned forward, trying to focus on the music around him. The beats moved in and out, giving him something to concentrate on.

“Babe?”

His eyes cracked open, the corner of his mouth turning up at the sight of his girlfriend (fiancėe). Her hair was now all the way down and she had pulled on his Thunderbirds sweatshirt. Even though she was only wearing the hoodie because it smelled like him, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride- after all, she usually refused to wear any football team’s merch aside from the Dolphins’.

“Here.” She handed him some pills and water which he promptly took, noting how Gus did the same.

The cool water felt nice but did little to soothe the ache in his head. “Thanks.” He frowned, noticing how her knuckles were bruised, “Did you get into a fight?”

“What?” She glanced at her hand, giving a good natured shake of her head at his abilities. “No- well, kind of. I was sparring with Sam and accidentally punched him square in the jaw.”

He chuckled, “That’s my girlfriend.” Not noticing how she frowned at the term.

Now that his eyes were open, his brain leaped back at the chance to pick up on things.

Small smudge of mascara under her right eye (probably missed it when washing her face), a few crumbs above Gus’ lips, dog hair on the hoodie sleeve.

He groaned as a sharp pain erupted in his head, vision blurring and stomach churning dangerously.

“Shawn?” Juliet’s voice was worried and he soon found her sitting next to him, guiding his head to her lap. She shushed him, beginning to run her fingers through his hair. “I need you to stop thinking, okay? Just focus on my hands.”

His eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed, allowing himself to fixate on her and only her. He felt warm and safe in her arms, her presence always serving to be a beacon in his crazy mind. Honestly he couldn’t imagine life without her, ever since he walked into that dinner nine years ago she had become a permanent staple in his life. He loved her so much it made his heart hurt. Even though the idea of marriage still terrified him, he knew deep down that he didn’t want to marry anyone else but her.

“I love you,” He muttered, reaching up to squeeze her hand.

“I love you too Shawn,” He could hear the soft smile in her voice, “Get some rest.”

He snuggled deeper, a small smile on his lips. Her hands would occasionally drift over to his temples, rubbing where the earmuffs weren’t situated. It was very calming and soon he felt sleep begin to overtake him.

Somewhere between Judas Priest and Holy Driver he heard a groan- and not from the music. It dragged him out of his sleep. Vision blurry and head foggy, he cracked open his eyes. The groan sounded again. He barely registered Juliet’s hand pausing it’s soothing motion and her concerned voice, instead his eyes were on his best friend. Gus was clutching his side, the color draining out of this face.

Jerking upright, he ignored how his head throbbed. “Gus? You okay?”

There was no answer as Gus’ eyes rolled back and he pitched forward, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

“Gus!” Shawn and Juliet yelled in unison.

In a flash they were both at his side, Juliet’s fingers on his neck and his hand being held tightly by Shawn. “He’s still alive, I’ll call an ambulance.”

Memories flashed through Shawn while his mind burned.

A large crowd, pain in his side, sweating, collapsing, a white room.

He should have noticed sooner, should have seen the signs. If it wasn’t for his headache-

“I think his appendix burst.” He all but shouted, words tumbling out of his mouth. This was all his fault, he should have noticed, he was trained for this for pete’s sake. The one thing he was good at was picking up on information, little things that most people didn’t notice.

He had failed Gus.

Looking back, he remembered the time between Gus collapsing and the ambulance coming so clearly but in the middle of it all, it frankly felt like a blur of regret and blame and worry.

As he watched Gus’ unconscious body being loaded into the ambulance, his hands shook, tears threatening to fall. Juliet grabbed his hand, beginning to lead him to her car. The paramedics only had room for one person but selfishly he needed Juliet to be his rock. He wasn’t sure if he could hold on without her.

She squeezed his hand, wide, worried eyes gazing up at him. “He’ll be okay.”

Nodding mutely, he followed her to the car. All he could hope was that she would be right.

#whumptober2020 #no. 26 #if you thought the head trauma was bad #migraine #psych #shawn spencer #juliet o'hara #burton guster #migraine tw #nausea tw #ambulance tw #angst #shawn whump #fanfic #psych fanfic #skipps writes

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