I'm Still Working On Of Sinners And Saints And Will Be Making Another Part/ More Parts For It. But I

I'm still working on Of Sinners and saints and will be making another part/ more parts for it. But I had an idea for a story and it got me in the mood for writing.

Trigger warnings!: c*tting, violence, child abuse, cursing.

The story will tone down alot more as it is found family trope a few parts I post here and there will be dark but I will always specify which ones <3

The winner takes it all

It was a kill or be killed world.

Or at last it had been.

The only way to make it in society now was to be chosen. And the only way to be chosen to outperform everyone else.

The rest of humanity seemed to live in poverty, amongst the slimes and slums of the Decker. Famine spewed and violence cried. Murders, thievery, kidnapping, and the rest all the same. The very dregs of society. Looked down on with disdain from the wealthy upper class.

Or as everyone else knew them from down in the Decker, the Giants.

But amongst the dark civilisation of the underground world lay a small spark to any family that had been fortunate enough to bare a child.

A ticket to glory. A ticket to freedom.

A ticket to a new life.

Any child of the age 13 was eligible to compete.

Children of any age or gender all put to the test in a deep carefully carved and extreme competition.

Most died. Those that didn’t however stood a chance at being ‘selected’

These trials showed off each and every child, as Giants watched on with keen interest.

If a Giant selected a child, not only would they be brought into a new life of luxury but their families too.

That chosen child would then be trained by the Giant and pushed into as many competitions as said Giant saw fit.

The brutal competition didn’t have to much rules to it, but out of the few that it obtained one stood out amongst the rest.

A child could only enter once. Should they fail, there is no second chance.

Yes many died. But not just at the peril of the competition, no, the losers where what brought a large death toll, as they would most likely be killed at the hands of their own parents.

Some out of anger. Most without a choice. It cost a good sum to live under a roof in the Decker, disgrace as it was, and with poverty growing most could barely afford a house for themselves, never mind a child.

Children did not know happiness in this world. They were merely tickets to a new one.

A ticket or not, Eleanor Tarabel would give everything to win.

That she was sure of.

—

The bell tower of the undercity chimed it’s song a painful six times. And from her perch in her small window, Eleanor watched the Decker slowly wake up.

Daylight lamps replaced those of the ‘Night’ fabricating a sun cycle for the dwelling underground.

Windows opened, people left their houses, merchants barked from their stalls proclaiming their valuables. Lines for rations began to brew.

Beggars curled amongst the streets arose, cup in hand prepared for another day. Noise grew, chatter, splashes of water being throw from windows down to the drainage basins, liquids of all kinds sank down the most common and notable color being a washed crimson red.

The little girl turned from her place, hopping down into the contrasting quiet of her room.

She knew what day it was. She knew it’s importance.

She slipped into her bland day clothing and exited her room, passing a calendar of sorts marking the days according to the sun and moon's cycle.

Tuesday 24th

‘13’

Entering the corridor she collided with an unknown man, a client to be sure.

He sneered down at her

“Keep your child on a short leash, Mags.” He said, pushing past the small girl sending her into the wall.

Her mother, Margaret Tarabel, came out to sulk by her bedroom door, sending creaks and moans through the cracked wall, hair in tangles with her usual cigarette in hand, draped in a robe of sorts.

In a husky voice and a drag, she puffed smoke out into the child’s face the smell of nicotine protruding the air, she spoke in a slow chastising tone

“Honey,” she coughed violently, small specks of blood dribbled at her lip “what did I say about irritating clients?”

Eleanor dipped her head and posture

“forgive me sir”

The man didn’t dignify her with a response, simply huffing and tying his shoes, grabbing his coat and reaching for the handle

Her mother livened up, if you could even call it that, her dark eyes laden with coat over coat of seeping makeup creeped to life.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving Mags. I have a job, more honorable than your shameful business”

Margaret did take kindly to his reply and in a hoarse snap she replied storming over, grabbing him by the shoulders

“Not without my money”

With a snort “for that service? That’s the worst I’ve had by far. But hey, you’ll only need to pay for one person under your roof pretty soon, ain’t that right cupcake?”

He gave an ugly wink in Eleanors direction

“Fuck you, you slimy rodent! Out of my house now.”

The man was pushed out into the streets as he spat and walked away.

“Rich coming from you, slut.”

Throwing her cigarette which only fell sadly to the floor dissipating in the drain she slammed the door and turned to her daughter.

“Don’t you mind him. Soon we’ll be comfortable out of this city. Isn’t that right my sweet?”

Eleanor was not in any means a stupid girl. It was clear to her that the only reason her mother truly cared- if you could call this caring- was for her own skin.

But if Eleanor won, she would never have to see her mother or any of her rotten clients again, never have to bare the butt of another cigarette, or random outburst or pour another pissy excuse for whiskey.

She hated her life. But she hated her mother more.

“Excuse me mother. I need to get to the arena.”

Her mother sighed and moved out of her way “maybe those Giants can teach you a little respect too.”

—

Sliding through the alleys, she made her way through the training grounds, careful to blend in, if she was quick enough she would avoid-

With a sharp kick Eleanor collided with the cobblestone, her rags soaking up the drainages contents leaving an unpleasant smell.

“Going somewhere El?”

She gagged at the smell turning to the voice.

Rodney Sterling. Katherina Vice. Desmond Fitzgerald. Lavender Maxwell.

Lavender stood over her with a snide smirk. As Katherine and Rodney pulled her up.

Lavender pulled out something brown from her pocket.

With a flick a blade came out.

Eleanors eyes widened. Lavender sensed this

“real silver would you believe it? Daddy had it made for me for next Saturday. But I figured, with that being so to long of a wait I’d test it out on my favourite little rodent.”

Eleanor gasped springing to life with immediate struggle, stepping harshly on Rodneys new shoes and punching Katherine earning an outcry from the two, racing past as quick as she could only for Lavender to grab her by the jacket sending a swift punch to her nose.

She giggled, twisting her blade, slicing her blade across Eleanors left arm.

Maxwell admired her work and Margaret’s scabbing circles that burned into her skin. “I see Mommy’s latest addiction is suiting you well, or was this from one of her fuck buddies?”

Rodney and Katherine gave a slithery snicker,

“See you at the Training grounds, if you even make it that far”

Lavender turned away, her clique in tow. Desmond drifted behind, eyes offering a speck of sympathy, turning back to his group and hurrying after them.

Eleanor sniffled, and gripped her arm closely. The dirty sewage had had seeped into her wound and she cried softly holding it close.

Drying her eyes she caught sight of the crowds forming by a nearby banner

‘NAMES AND REGISTRATION- THE SELECTING TRIALS. SATURDAY 5th’

She could do this. She had to

I know all I have done since I posted stories here is write a chapter/2 chapters and not continue, I will continue them I promise but I really wanted to write this as I am a slave to the found family trope. Enjoy grumpy old man (unwillingly) becomes guardian to a chaotic little girl. Inspired by Tlou Ellie and Joel as well as GoT the hound and arya.

Thorn in my side

(Prologue)

The actual story will be MUCH longer but this is just a lil intro

Triggers: cursing I guess? But that will be the case with most chapters because addie knows some colourful words and likes to throw them around

>:)

If anything could be said without any argument it would be that the man wasn't what one would call welcoming. While he hadn't got much nice virtues in his favour, he had got a colourful array of other descriptive words to choose from. Brutish, nasty, bitter, ill-tempered (-short tempered too) and those were just starter options to a more deliciously verbal main course.

From what could be gathered while sneaking around the alleys, some villagers deemed he wasn't all bad, even vowed that 'so long as you leave him alone, don't talk to him, look at him and depending the day, you don't breathe insufficiently around him, you'll be fine'. That advice seemed to have spread like a wildfire, and slowly but surely, it appeared as if an unavowed agreement was set to leave him be to his indulgences, far out in his small cottage home at the edge of the kingdom.

Despite it all, he didn't pay their mindless gossip any attention- if anything it seemed he reveled in it, loving that it ensured the most loud and obnoxious 'citizens' would stay far far away from his vicinity. And should they get too close, the simple solution was one hard glare over the shoulder from his peripheral to send them running back home- some in tears. Some might say he was a bit of an 'old prune' or 'sad sour vessel of a man'. A man filled with nothing but grotesque hatred for anything and anyone around him, be it the townspeople, village or the whole damn kingdom.

And unfortunately, the old man didn't do the rotten rumours any favours. He never cared for the unbidden pesky pokes and prods at his life, and had he cared, he may have even humoured their outlandish claims.

Though all that being said he wasn't devoid of finding solitude. It was quite clear he did like quiet things. Being devoid from sounds of sappy children and stumbling drunkards eased such simplicite interests. The only sounds he seemed to find solace in was the buzz and hums of wildlife while tending his crops, the pitter-patter of rain hopping about like grasshoppers against the stone wall and the crackle from the hearth as its warmth billowed about his only comfort, his home.

He didn't confide and he didn't care, he was just a isolated gruff man who seemed alot deeper than the wretched rumours had precieved. From any other perspective however, it could fairly be assumed that his heart had been thorn out many moons ago, or perhaps buried, deep deep down, into depths of tarnished emotions.

It was too bad Addie couldn't aid him in his predicament.

From afar she could pity the man, and she'd only been there a fortnight thus far, from what she gathered he just needed..something, maybe a hound, hounds couldn't talk as far as she knew. Though perhaps a lazy one, that wouldn't bark at the slightest jitter.

It was clear from her restless week long trail through the kingdom that his behaviour towards townsfolk and himself personally were two different matters entirely- from what she picked up from gossip of course. He had been in the markets that day, and from the coverage scrouing the grimy streets from the plants, drains, carriages and the sort, all she could gather was the pitiful whispers about town, that 'the old troll had left his cave'.

It was abundantly obviously to even the thickest of minds this man's home was void of any life besides his own. That had been good enough for her. Despite hiding for dear life from all those around her, it had been a rare occasion were she had been happy to be around someone of such..stature. A ticket to an easy few weeks, unbothered by children, maids or fiendish cats. But still, from her time 'spent with him' (if you could even call it that) she had become divided in her own mind. Part of her found sorrow in seeing him all alone, even a little anger towards all the dreadful hushed chatter she overheard before she had happened upon his satchel, slipping inside unbeknownst to the gruff old man, in his pursuit of purchasing..whatever it was he was buying. Another part of her played offence, accusatory in the nature that he had formed the reputation himself, had he shown even the inching of a smile maybe, just maybe, his situation wouldn't be so dire. But he dug his grave and now he had to lie with his misery and consequence. And that made sympathy a rather hard feeling to render him by.

Either side of her inner turmoil could agree on one thing when it come down to it. Lest he change his ways there was no saving him.

Once she was stocked up she'd be moving on, she was quite conflicted on wether she'd feel relief or regret on leaving such a sad husk of a man, but there was nothing to be done. Nothing she could- would do. Especially given that even with her conflicted pity, he was still one of them- hatred toward others like him or not.

If it came to priorities she was putting herself first. It was a dangerous world for those one twelfth of the average height. Even more so when said people were believed to be a dying species. And were a rarity for two gruelling reasons- both stemming from blood. Its taste, and its qualities. Humans in these times were sought out now for a palatable delicacy or for cures, tinctures that could cure even the deadliest of diseases- or so the presumptuous prodigious pricks had persuaded one another into believing. Either way, the thought made her sick. All that loss, to satisfy the mind, or the stomach. But this was life now, and she was determined to live it. Endure and survive it.

Alas, she hadn't planned to stay long. A few weeks at most, with a week spent grafting the streets and fourteen nights in his abode it summed to three tiresome weeks thus far. It was stock up and carry on. Take what you can, leave what you must. There was codes to follow, they had been set out by her family, and in the time she got to have with them, each member followed them wholeheartedly. Her dad had been to teach her. God she missed him. His absence had hit the hardest. Despite the years that had past, his loss was still so vivid. In the waking world and dream realm alike. Her mother was a sweet traditional lady, well kept, strict but tender, loving to all those around her. But her father, he had shown her everything, taught her everything. He crafted the person she had become and he was partly her biggest motivation to keep going.

In theory, being reunited with her family wouldn't take long. All she'd really have to do was let a single giant see her. In whatever morbid twisted fate she’d be granted, it would eventually lead home. Home to the warmth of her mother's embrace, the lingering whispers of love and meaning in her fathers voice. Home as both held her tight and never let go. Despite its gruesome reality, it was a nice dream- but her families memory was worth more than ending up as a garnish on a plate, a plate already full of greed and an unquenchable thirst for more and more. For them, she'd keep going. For them she would reach the haven. Be amongst her people once more, bring normality back into the world, despite being born into the current way of life for humanity. To her in a way everyday had become the status quo. But the faith of getting to experience what life had been. Now that would be something.

So she would deal with this grouch for another few weeks or so, then continue her journey. Her long long journey, to salvation.

At least. That's what she hoped would happen. That was the plan after all.

Getting caught was not.

So much plans for my stories and future oneshots this summer. My exams start next week and end the 28th, so you can start expecting stuff from them on!! :)

I'll also be free to start roleplaying and continue roleplaying then! (An apology to all my roleplayers thank you so much for your patience. I promise I'll get to it as soon as I can <3)

Also a little update, I turned 18 a week and a half ago! So that's new I guess haha anyways- I'll be back soon!

I can finally say to expect the first part tomorrow! I have really bad insomnia so I decided to spend my time writing rather than staring at the ceiling and finally editing the first part. I still have 2 paragraphs to edit and then I'm done! But it will definitely be here tomorrow. Well..technically today because its 4 am for me.

Whenever I see the Stanley Parable Narrator being depicted as a giant or at least having some sort of drastic size difference to Stanley it makes my g/t heart so happy istg.

Been experimenting with more lighting stuff, just hope I'm doing it right because this took actual hours. I'm really happy with it so I think it was worth the risks.

Also you get height difference because that makes everything better. :3

Hey so I'm Grace! I'm not new to tumblr but this is my first time posting. My exams just ended in school so I was thinking of starting to publish G/t again. I used to publish on wattpad but..eh, it isn't really for me anymore. I figured I was done with g/t all together for a while but I found out I can never really escape it. Besides that though, I have a few story ideas that I'd like to work on so when I eventually get around to posting expect G/t obviously and a lot of A N G S T!