Tumgik
#constructive criticism welcome
wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months
Text
Ruined
Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader
Oneshot
summary: a chess move gone wrong. but it brought you two back together, so how can she complain?
thank you anon 🫀 for requesting this! you’re so loved and appreciated <3
Word Count: 2.257k
Tumblr media
When the invitation comes in the mail, you think nothing of it. Because of your job, Waystar was always trying to kiss your ass and trying to convince you they were the perfect employer.
It was also because of your previous relationship.
Even though you and Siobhan had been separated for a few weeks now, you weren’t sure that many people knew. Not only did Royco execs invite you to try and convince you to ‘join the ranks’, they’d invite you to try and get closer to Shiv. The daughter of the man in possession of the biggest media conglomerate in the world, a mega billionaire.
You assume this is just another dinner to kiss ass to prospective employees. You didn’t really mind, though. It’s free food, and even though you’d never admit it out loud, a boost to your ego.
Post breakup with Shiv felt apocalyptic. You didn’t want to eat, sleep, breathe. But you had to. You had shit to get done.
You’re happy for the excuse to get dressed up. It makes you feel good about yourself, and god knows you need that right now. You stare at yourself in the mirror, dark colored turtleneck and high waisted pants accentuating the curves of your body. You gloss your lips, mentally preparing for the night out.
The place is gorgeous, as always. The hallways are dimly lit, warm orange light dappling the space around you. You find yourself with a finger sandwich in hand, waiting for dinner to be announced so you can congregate in the dining room with everyone else and actually eat.
You watch as Logan Roy plucks a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing servant. If he was here, then that means this thing was important. But that raised a question- why are you here?
Your answer arrives right with Siobhan Roy. You spot her the moment she sets foot in the room. Despite how messy your brakeup was, you just couldn’t get yourself to get over her. She’s radiant, beautiful like the sunset, like the time-old glaciers, like the condensed dew on an ageless bottle of wine. She lit up your world, bringing day to your dystopian world of eternal night.
She was stressing over something, you could tell, even from across the room. Her shoulders were set tautly, her phone gripped in her hand. Her eyes sweep hastily over the gathered people, and yours subconsciously follow. You recognize all the high profile politicians, the big whales of finance and business. You’re beginning to feel out of place.
Lost in your daze, you don’t realize as she steps up beside you. When she speaks, you think you’re dreaming for a split second. In recent history, the only time you’d ever heard her voice, spoken to her, was in the depths of your mind’s eye.
“Are you fucking with me?” Shiv hisses from beside you, fake smile pasted to her face.
You’re taken aback. “Hello to you, too,” you mutter in response.
Her hand falls immediately to the small of your back, and she steers you away from the crowd. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I was invited. I didn’t fucking drop from the face of the Earth after you broke up with me,” you say dryly. Once you’re out in the hall, her voice raises slightly from her original whisper.
“Who invited you? How the hell are you even here?”
She leads you into an empty spare room and shuts the door firmly behind her. “What the fuck, Siobhan?”
“This is a dinner to introduce an acquisition. I would know if you were hired by Waystar. So why are you here?”
“Like I said, I was invited.”
“Why? For what?”
You scoff. “How encouraging of my career,” you drawl.
She snorts in response, turning to pace the room. “What’s he up to? Do you know?” she asks quickly, referring to her dad.
“How should I fucking know?” You cross your arms over your chest. “I didn’t know we were on speaking terms, anyway.”
“We’re not,” she spits. “Not after what you put me through.”
“What I put you through?” You laugh. “Siobhan, you dumped me because you were too busy fucking your work rather than me.”
She barks out a laugh. “Is that how you see it?”
“That’s how everybody but you fucking sees it. You got angry I wanted to talk about the fact that you did nothing but work, and work overtime, and neglect me, that you ended things and ran,” you spit back, voice dripping with venom.
She puts her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m sorry I take my job seriously.” Her bracelets tinkle as her hands flit back down. “And that’s not what happened.” She twists to face away from you, hands carding through her hair.
“Then, pray tell, what did? You didn’t exactly wait around for me to even process. This is the first time we’ve spoken since then.”
When she turns back around, tears dot her waterline. Your chest swells with anxiety, struggling to differentiate between the stone-cold killer Siobhan and your sweet Shiv.
“I’m sorry, I’m deflecting. It’s not like that, I swear,” she says, voice cracking. “Oh, my fucking god. I got fucking scared, baby. I have all of these complicated feelings for you, and when they never went away, I got scared. I realized I loved you, that I love you, and I got horrified I’d fuck things up.”
Your heart flutters at the pet name. “That’s not a fucking excuse, Shiv. You left me by myself. You never even said goodbye properly.”
“I know, I know it’s not.” Her face drops into her hands. “It’s just… I can’t bear the idea of getting hurt. Being hurt by you, no less. I’d never recover. I haven’t recovered. I can’t move on. I can’t think of beauty without thinking of you. You’re in every goddamn sunrise, piece of jewelry, every starry night sky. Nothing I’m scared of matters anyway, because you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
You’re rendered speechless. Your mouth opens, then closes. You don’t know what to say.
“I can’t,” she says weakly. “I compare every single person to you. And every single time, I love you so much fucking better.” She chokes on a sob, face still covered by her hands.
Without thinking, you step towards her, taking her in your arms. Her head rests on your shoulder as sobs rack her body. You’d never, ever seen her like this. Not when you were together, not in any sort of public media. You rub soothing circles into her back.
“I’m sorry,” she laments, her voice wavering. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve never let you go. I want you back. I need you back. I can’t. I can’t keep doing this bullshit. You’re it for me. You’ll always be it for me.”
“Shiv,” you breathe. “Shiv, take a breath. Come on, you’re working yourself up.”
She obeys, attempting to regulate her breathing. She sniffs roughly, wiping at her eyes, before pulling away from you and turning her back to you.
“What I did was inexcusable,” she says, voice quieter. “I… I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. I’m sorry. I love you.” She inhales shakily, her hands smoothing down her blouse. “Dad knew what would happen if you came today. I need to go.”
Without another word, she leaves you behind.
You see no point in sticking around. You’re confused, strangely swelling with love. You want to both chuck your phone into a river and pick up and dial her number immediately. You hunt around for someone who can get you your coat, and before you know it, you’re out in the blistering cold by yourself.
You spend the rest of your night face down in bed. You’re so conflicted. Does she want you, or does she not? Should you contact her first, or can you still hold onto the hope that she’ll come find you?
The night drags on, and there’s nothing. Early the next morning, you bolster the confidence to send her a text asking her if she’s alright. Your anxiety runs rampant the moment you hit send, and your face burns with heat. You both pray she answers as soon as she sees it and pray she never sees it at all. You want to belt your phone at the wall.
You find yourself at a coffee shop at seven thirty. You need to get out, to think about literally anything else. You have the day off, and you’re not sure if it’ll be good or bad for you yet.
The moment you set foot in the shop, you see her, and she sees you. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing an old sweater of yours. This is when she’s prettiest, you think. When she’s not playing the game of succession, not strategizing, just sitting comfortably in her skin.
Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. She beckons you over, doe eyes still glinting with tears.
Hesitantly, you go over and sit across from her.
“How did you…?”
“You come here every day,” she says quietly. She pushes a cardboard cup of coffee towards you. “I never forgot your order.”
You murmur your thanks, taking a sip. “We should talk,” you say stupidly.
“Yeah. We should,” she responds, folding her hands together and setting them on the table in between you two.
“Can we just… talk things through?”
“I want that. Please.”
You sit back in your chair, unsure of where to begin. “Did you actually mean it? Last night, I mean?”
“Everything I said. I would’ve stayed, but… ironically, duty called.”
“What’ll change?” you ask softly. “If we… if we try again?”
“Everything,” Shiv whispers. “You’re my world. I can’t go a second without thinking about you. You’re my top priority, I swear. I’ll never fucking leave your side again. I was a shitty girlfriend before. But I’ll change. I’d do anything for you.”
“I missed you,” you choke out. “So much.”
She loses it a bit, too, tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. You reach across the table and wipe it away. “I did, too. I missed you.”
“Do you want to come home?” you ask, hopeful. She smiles.
“Finally. I’ve been living in a shithole with my cousin since you.”
You roll your eyes, knowing she’s playing it up. She takes your hand, and before you know it, you’re sat on the couch, making out. Her fingers dig into your jaw, keeping your mouth locked with hers. Shiv kisses are hard, needy. She’s been waiting for you, craving you the last few weeks.
She pulls away to kiss and suck at your neck. “Shiv,” you say breathily, not expecting it. Despite her fervor, she’s gentle, successfully pleasing you.
“Shh, baby. Let me do this. Let me make you feel good. I need to make it up to you. I was an asshole.”
You laugh. “You’re just being territorial.”
She sighs, leaning back and inspecting a developing purple hickey on your skin. She buries her head into your shoulder after dotting soothing kisses along the new bruises.
“I love you. I’m sorry,” she says into your skin.
“I love you too.” Your hand strays to her back, stroking lightly.
“I promise I’ll do it right this time,” she murmurs. “You’ll never stop feeling fucking amazing.”
“I hope you’re right,” you respond.
“Really. I’m going to be better.” She kisses at your shoulder. “I’ll start skipping meetings for you.”
“You don’t need to neglect your job, Shiv.”
“I want to, anyway. I want to spend every second right here, with you.”
Your hand smoothes down to her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I’m so fucking happy. You make everything better.”
Shiv slips out of your grasp, padding into your kitchen. You stay sprawled out on the couch, content.
The days go by slowly, and you’re grateful. The two of you spend morning tangled together, nights intertwined. You come home to her, she comes home to you. You never leave each other without a kiss goodbye, and you never say anything before kissing hello.
Shiv wasn’t lying. She prioritized you, and solely you. If she couldn’t come home on time, she’d send flowers and crawl into bed with you late at night, peppering your face with kisses. She’s become more affectionate, her touches always lingering and her always curled up against you.
You make sure to never neglect her, either. Despite your massive differences in salary, you make sure to give thoughtful gifts, and kiss her whenever you can. You find that you enjoy cooking for her, watching her face brighten whenever she eats something she likes.
You’ve both begun to keep pictures of each other in your wallets. You always catch her staring at a miniature portrait of you in her hands, her thumb gently stroking over your face.
Every night, your bed is warm with affection. You never feel alone again.
When it happens, she doesn’t get down on one knee. It’s when you’re both half asleep on the couch, your head cradled in her lap when she shows you the ring. She giggles when you let her slip it onto your finger, the word fiancé falling giddily from her lips.
You spend a moment rummaging around in your purse, then hurry back to her, another ring in hand.
She kisses you so hard your head spins.
“I love you. I love you so much. And that’ll never change.”
57 notes · View notes
trillgendermetaphor · 2 months
Text
Educational
(980 words) by angiospermophyta
Fandom: The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Relationship: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Rating: General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Gideon Nav, Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Teacher | Priest of Canaan House, Palamedes Sextus, Camilla Hect
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teachers
Language: English
Summary:
Gideon Nav’s enthusiasm was not contagious, exactly, but it did strange things to her stomach. More importantly, Nav’s muscles seemed more suited to a gym than a classroom, and Harrow almost blurted out something stupid. Instead what came out was, “Are you sure you can teach math?"
It's Harrow's first day as a science teacher at Canaan Middle School, and already she's managed to alienate the (excpetionally attractive) math teacher.
Harrow stood with her back to the door, surveying her work appraisingly. It would do for now.
The bulletin board was mostly empty, but had been plastered over with dark-red-magenta paper. A bold black heading at the top read “Student Work.” Harrow had been advised early on that her classroom could not be decorated solely in black, grey, and bones, and she was attempting to give it a muted-rainbow aesthetic to compensate for her own style. Perhaps some middle schoolers would appreciate darkness, but she had learned that the majority of them did not. They felt safe and comfortable with soft fabrics and bright colors. Wimps.
In the back of her head was the voice of Harrow’s therapist: Have you considered that you look down on those who prefer softness because you wish you had been allowed to be soft growing up? As if Harrow had ever wanted to be soft! As if she wished she could have been vulnerable growing up! As if she had become a science teacher – as opposed to the orthopedic surgeon that had been expected of her – because she had wanted to protect children the way she had never been protected herself. As if!
A throat cleared before her, and she turned to find the soft gaze of Teacher, the principal of Canaan Middle School. He had another name, which she tried to remember out of some sort of decorum, and began to form on her lips – “Mr.–” but he seemed to catch her gaze and she broke off. “Ms. Nonagesimus, please, call me Teacher.”
Harrow nodded stiffly. “Teacher.”
The older man’s eyes turned to survey her classroom. “A fine job you’ve done with the room.” He turned and seemed to notice the small display of bones she’d created against the radiators, and an eyebrow upturned minutely. “Very educational, my dear. I anticipate our students will have many questions for you.” Harrow held back a slight upturn of her lips.
“Well done, well done,” he concluded, just as a voice called from behind him, “Teach!”
A large shadow loomed in the doorway behind teacher, and a large (impossibly large and toned) arm draped across the man’s thin frame. Following the arm came a ginger head, dark sunglasses, and an easy smile. Harrow’s breath caught in her throat, and she remembered the breathing exercises she’d practiced: four counts in, hold, four counts out, hold…
The tanned figure was saying something, and Harrow caught the end of it as she steadied her breathing: “… new science teacher? All right!” Teacher smiled, waved, and gracefully exited – traitor.
Suddenly a hand was thrust in her direction.
Harrow wanted desperately, more than anything in the world, to hold that hand. She was on count two of her exhale – three, four. Hold, two, three, four… She stared at the outstretched hand, willing herself to grab onto it. Her hand didn’t move. Breathe in, two, three, four…
It was too late. Gideon’s hand dropped back down to her side, and her face fell minutely. She put on a large, robust smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and ploughed on. “I’m Gideon – Ms. Nav, for the students, though gosh that seems so formal! – and I teach math. I’ll be your co-teacher, so we’ll share the same kids!”
Harrow blinked. Gideon Nav’s enthusiasm was not contagious, exactly, but it did strange things to her stomach. More importantly, Nav’s muscles seemed more suited to a gym than a classroom, and Harrow almost blurted out something stupid. Instead what came out was, “Are you sure you can teach math?”
Keep reading on ao3!
33 notes · View notes
gtbutterfly · 2 months
Text
new gt story?
hey, so I wrote a short opening to a new story I thought of, should I continue it? let me know your thoughts. criticism is appreciated.
______________________________________________________________
It was winter, way past the holiday months and weeks before it could ever be considered anywhere near spring. In the morning there was ice blocking the glass windows before the sun melted it away and kept the the rest of the day cool. There wasn’t any snow, there hadn’t been in a long time. Anytime it was cold enough for snowflakes to fall, the sky was perfectly clear, and any time there was a storm, it was roughly just room temperature outside. The coldest it got was the nights. Occasionally it would drop to near twenty degrees Fahrenheit. The nights were frigid and silent, no bugs making noise, and barely any cars to be heard in the distance. It was a small, quiet town, after all. Woods surrounded it and no more than a thousand people lived there. The town was founded by a logging company, most of the residents when they first moved there were employees.
Decades ago, there was an incident regarding the logging mill. According to the old newspapers, the workers recalled some kind of earthquake, tremors in the ground, but it wasn’t an ordinary earthquake. It was like footsteps, they said, “thump, thump, thump,” in the ground. “Boom, boom, boom,” as it got closer. More and more workers reported these vibrations in the ground, and worry was caused throughout the company and the town. They even hired a team of scientists and investigators to find what it was, but they never found anything, at least not anything they’ve shown to the public. A few people decided to investigate the tremors themselves. They went into the forest. They haven’t yet been found, presumed dead. The people in charge of our town decided to make rules for the townspeople's safety. There was a curfew installed, and no one was allowed to be outside a building after eleven pm until sunrise. They banned camping out at a certain point away from the town. No one is allowed to do their own investigations of the mysterious tremors that are still felt today. For the most part, this town is silent. The days are filled with the sound of trees being chopped down and falling in the distance, as well as the children playing, and being scolded for going too close to the woods. At night, on the other hand, it was perfectly silent. Quiet enough to hear a pin drop. There was the occasional sound, wolves howling, the wind blowing, trees and leaves rustling against each other, appearing as black silhouettes in the sky.
On some of these nights, I would stay up, gazing out the window of wherever I was staying. Being in this town's foster care system, it would vary over the weeks. I was told that my birth parents were some of the missing persons when the tremors first happened. They left their infant child to run into the woods after some monster or ecological event and were never seen again. I don’t remember them, I don’t exactly miss them either. I couldn’t miss something I never had. The feeling I had was probably closer to envy than anything. Every couple of weeks, I would be assigned to a new family to care for me. Most of them are friendly, but sometimes I end up with the same family multiple times since not many people sign up. As far as I’m aware, I’m the only person in the foster care system in this town. The house I was staying in now was near the edge of town, right next to the dark forest no one was supposed to step in. I’ve heard about other students at my school sneaking out there at night, as part of some dare or just to impress others. Usually, I would never think to do something like that. I never cared much about impressing others, I mainly kept to myself, some would say too much. 
I stared out the window towards the forest. The moon just barely made the scene conceivable. I wasn’t looking at the forest anyway, I was looking above it. At the sky. The area is so rural that there's no light pollution here, so it’s perfect for stargazing if you're into that. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been much since the curfew was enacted. I was in one of the few houses where you could see the stars from indoors. The night sky was beautiful, objectively speaking. There were thousands, millions of stars scattered about, circling a white, glowing moon. There was space dust swirling around. The sky was a dark blueish shade of purple, barely on the line between magenta and black. I looked at it. I thought It looked nice. It had to. I knew that, but I didn’t quite feel it. I didn’t feel much toward the sky. I felt nothing. The sky was dark. And blue, and black, and purple, and had dozens of stars and elements of space in it. It was beautiful. And I felt nothing. I just stared out at the sky until I felt something that made me flinch.
A vibration. It was quick, too quick for an earthquake. It was followed by another vibration. And another. The next one was bigger. They kept getting larger and larger. Wolves howled and whined in the distance. The trees rustled against each other harder, but there was no wind blowing at all. Something was pushing them. Then I saw it. Whatever it was, it was massive. A giant silhouette hidden in the night and the trees. I could just barely make out the reflection of moonlight in its eye. It was nearly 50 feet tall, taller than any building in the whole town. I thought I was dreaming. I pinched myself. 
“Ow,” I wasn’t. A fifty-foot humanoid was walking through the forest. I saw it. It walked passed the houses and the trees and retreated into the forest. I got up from my chair and walked away from the window. I went outside the back door. I couldn’t tell you why. All I felt was the same nothingness from before. But why? A literal giant was walking behind houses, and I felt no fear, no dread, no joy, no excitement. Just nothing. I felt nothing as I followed the giant into the woods. Leaves crunched under my slippers. I followed the giant for a couple of minutes, occasionally hiding behind a tree or bush if they ever looked my way. I still didn’t know why. I didn’t have my phone or a camera to get evidence that it existed, I obviously wasn’t planning to confront it. Maybe it was just curiosity. Eventually, the giant stopped. I hid behind a tree, but that didn’t matter. They knew I was there for who knows how long. They turned around. Their voice were softer than I expected, rather than being big and booming but just made the air vibrate. 
“I know you're following me, kid,” they said. Their voices sounded tough and feminine. “You got something to say?”
It all hit me at once. Everything I was supposed to be feeling before, fear, dread, curiosity, it all fell on me as my stomach dropped as the beings voice buzzed through the air and into my body. I was dumbfounded. I didn’t say anything. My eyes were widened as I stepped backwards. Why did do this? Why did I break our towns rules and go out after dark and follow a massive creature that could kill me in an instant? They were looking down at me with its red eyes. They were bending down to look at me better. Suddenly, I was running. There wasting any thoughts in my mind anymore, only emotion, only fear. I didn’t know where I was going, I just kept running away from the giant. It was dark. The trees blocked out the moonlight, and I was sprinting in pitch blackness. It was cold, one of those nights where it got down to near 20 degrees. I could feel tremors behind me. The giant was following me. I ran faster, until I tripped over the root of a tree, falling into a shallow river. It was cold, frigid and shocking. I didn’t move for a moment. The water was knee deep. After the shock of the cold, I felt pain coursing though my body, mostly in my arms and head, I must have hit it against a rock when I fell. My vision was blurry, either from the head trauma or the water in my eyes. I looked up at the dark silhouette standing over me. The giant. They were standing on they’re knees looking down at me. I couldn’t see their expression in the darkness. I heard them sigh, as their massive hand reached down towards me. Then I blacked out.
37 notes · View notes
swirlysmile · 2 years
Note
Hi! I've been thinking about this idea so if you like you can write about it🤗: reader ejects during a practice for the mission and has to spend the night at the infirmary just in case, worried trying to hide it hangman goes to see her and ends up staying (not dating yet, they go back and forth with silly fights but already have feelings for the other), reader tries to play it cool like it was nothing but maybe he tries to make her laugh to cheer her up if you want?
changed it up a little, forgive me 🥲 still stuck to the general idea, so hope you like it!!
Tumblr media
word count: 2k
warnings; mentions of ejections, dangerous situations, some swearing, slightly OOC hangman
Eject, Eject
You wish you weren’t here right now, but you also felt incredibly blessed to not have a WSO with you. 
Right now, your plane was rapidly descending. Engine recovery measures were failing, and at this point you were too far in to give up. 
“Left engine failure,” you speak, trying to keep a level tone. You knew that if you panicked, everybody else would. 
Murmurs of instructions were being blasted in your ears through the comms, but none of them really hit until Maverick said “If you eject any later, you’ll die!” 
You’re already almost to 500 feet, making ejection more dangerous than it would have been if you’d listened the first time.
That cleared your conscience enough to make you notice what a low altitude you were at. 
The jet was screaming at you to pull up- and your co-workers were screaming at you to eject. 
You finally got it in your head that there was no saving this plane, so you reached down to grasp the handles and pulled upwards.  
You manage to open your eyes just in time to see the main event- your F-18 drop into the mountainside. The ringing in your ears tells you that it didn’t sound as cool as it looked.
You’re sure that your slightly limp body floating down from the sky missed the mark too.
The other pilots are celebrating from their huddle by the radio after Maverick confirms he saw a parachute.
You’re barely conscious after your landing. You're close enough to the ruins of your F-18 that the fumes are really starting to get to your head, and the wreckage doesn’t smell very good. 
Your vision goes a little dark, then you hear the sounds of a sweet sweet rescue helicopter. 
After that, you’re out.
There's sounds of beeping, a few monitors hooked up to you, and a whole lot of headache. Other than that, you feel great, Nothing broken, and hopefully nothing of note. 
“They’re keeping you in for the night to monitor you,” Maverick says and you can’t help but groan. 
They haven’t found anything wrong, what could change in a night? 
Apparently lots, but that’s besides the point.
You’re passed out again for maybe fifteen minutes, the click of the door opening awakening you. 
“Bagman,” you deadpan, and he gives a mock two finger salute. 
“Dammit, you’re not dead. Thought I was going to slide into the number one spot.” 
“Alive and well, thanks for your concern.” 
Hangman is happy that Coyote isn’t present, or he’d expect some ‘Oh, he was concerned alright’ comment, exposing him in his lies. He walks over to one of the chairs by the springy hospital bed and happily takes a seat.
“What’s new?” 
“These lovely tubes, the soothing beeps, and this military issued bed that’s actually a little comfortable.” 
He grins at that last one, knowing the pain of springy bunk beds all too well. Honestly though, he’s just glad you’re alive, and he’s a man on a mission, a mission to get you out of here as soon as possible. Maverick didn’t tell him much, so he had no idea how long you’d be in the hospital.
“I don’t know, it looks a little small,” 
“You say that as if the gymnastic mats we get are any bigger.” You scoff jokingly, and he grins again.
Normally, Hangman is all talk and it’s hard to enjoy being with someone like that. His mere -measly- little presence is enough to make you roll your eyes, especially when he says something that’s completely dicked. Now, he’s letting his ego deflate a little, and he’s convincing himself that it’s because he’s caught you in a moment of weakness. Hangman has already won, what more does he need to do? 
Coyote would disagree.
He’s shaking his head a little, eyes closed. 
“Ah man, you kill me. You really do.” 
“Finally.” 
“Still a dick, even on your deathbed.”
“We both know you’d be worse, Seresin.” 
He can’t even argue, because he most definitely would be worse. He’s imagining what he’d do in that situation, and he’d probably be happy that he beat a fellow pilot to inevitable demise. If he can win at anything, he’ll take it.
He’s smiling, that stupid cocky little smile that he always does, but maybe less arrogance written on his face than usual. It’s replaced by a bit of joy. 
“So, why’d you come?” You say, and his head starts to spin. He’s trying to think of excuses, but it doesn’t really work so he just settles on telling you the truth. “I don’t know, I was worried I guess.” 
You roll your eyes at that one. 
“I am honored that you in all your glory, Lieutenant, would worry about me.”
“You’re high ranking in my heart,” He says, and that makes your face go a little red. You blame it on the fact that you tried to hold the laughter in. He can’t help but laugh with you, partially at his own stupidity, and partially out of happiness. He did complete his ‘mission’ after all. You’re grinning, and clutching your chest while trying to regain your breath. 
“Feeling better already?” He questions
“Definitely. Just being around you has cured me of all my ailments.” 
“Laughter is the best medicine,” 
You’re expecting him to leave at any moment now- thinking he came in just to push your buttons a little bit to your surprise, he stays. He keeps talking to
you- and it’s one of those rare cases where you actually enjoy talking to Jake.
Who knew that all it would take to make Hangman a pleasant presence is a near death experience? 
“I was scared,” you admit, and Hangman’s eyes widened a little bit. You weren’t expecting to tell him that- you weren’t expecting to tell anyone that, but after a few hours of talking it just spilled out. It wasn’t unlike much of the other word vomit you’d shared. “It’d take one crazy son of a bitch not to be scared.” Jake says, and you smile meekly. It’s almost as if he’s admitting something himself. 
The hospital staff practically has to kick him out because now he’s just talking to you about nothing in particular, and the weirdest part about it is he can’t stop- maybe he’s setting the scene, telling you about how your friends were worried (but he was completely cool, calm, and collected) when your engine failed. Maybe he’s telling you about the celebration when Mav announced the sight of a parachute- or he’s just telling you about how the rest of training went. 
He’s being honest, telling you about how he felt throughout the day, but he leaves out his feelings on the engine malfunction. 
It feels oddly vulnerable and new to him, and he’s not sure he’ll ever tell anyone how scared and helpless he felt.
When he leaves though, he leaves you with a wave and a small smile, and your heart rate begins to go a little faster- the monitor exposing you.
“Hey hey hey! You about gave me a heart attack yesterday,” Phoenix says, greeting you in all of your un-hospitalized glory. You give her a grin as the rest of your fellow pilots come up to say hi. 
One person hangs back, Hangman. 
He’s thinking he already talked to you enough. He spent hours in the hospital, and he’s hoping that you aren’t going to say anything. He’d be in for some mocking ‘jokes’ from Bradshaw if that were the case. His little charade is ongoing until you pop up next to him and make an off handed comment about his appearance, something like “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” and then the teasing begins.  
He’s geared up, getting ready to fly the course for this super special mission when Coyote pops up next to him. Hangman is internally groaning. If anybody is going to say some ego-bruising, self-image shattering comment, it’s Coyote. Then he just stares at Jake- “Man, you’re whipped.” 
Jake stares back incredulously. Whipped isn’t a word he would even think could be used to describe him, but he stays silent.
“Man, I knew it!” He says, and he’s hitting Jake on the back. 
“No way in hell am I ‘whipped’” He says, adding in finger quotes for that extra bit of emphasis. 
“You can tell yourself that all you want, Hang. We all know it’s true, and it’s a matter of time before you realize. Before she realizes.” Rooster adds, walking into the room. 
“Shut up Bradshaw.” 
Hangman rolls his eyes, finishes zipping up his flight suit, and leaves. 
Maverick immediately knows something is up. Hangman’s usual instinct to fly fast hasn’t kicked in- he’s actually doing pretty well, as far as not “crashing” into walls goes. He’s about halfway through the course when it finally hits him, and he can’t control his flying as well as usual. His head is a bit cloudy, and he isn’t focusing on the track in his nav system. 
He almost goes headfirst into one of the canyon walls, narrowly avoiding it by pulling up into “SAM territory”. 
“Hangman, you’re dead.” He hears, and he curses. He knows that Maverick is going to scold him, and frankly, he isn’t in the mood. The worst part about it all though? Bradshaw did better than him.
“Why are you dead?” 
“I don’t know, sir.” He says, answering semi-honestly. He’s not going to expose himself to the rest of the class, but he also isn’t entirely sure why he ‘died’. 
“That’s not good enough. Why are you dead?” 
“I pulled up to avoid hitting a wall.”
“Why were you going to hit the wall in the first place?” 
“I don’t know, sir.” 
Maverick just sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and stops talking. The room is eerily silent until he tells the next pilots to get moving, and says “Seresin, come here.” 
You can't make out what Maverick says, other than a whisper of “What’s got you so distracted, kid?” 
You’re watching them intently when Hangman finally sits back down, and Maverick turns his attention back to the simulated course on screen. 
When the last group of failures gets back, everyone’s gone in the air and Captain Mitchell is not having any of it. 
“I suggest all of you get over whatever is distracting you and learn to fly the damn course! Dismissed.”
When you leave base, your head is pounding. Getting yelled at is never fun, and in light of recent events, it makes it worse. Not that you’re not used to yelling- The Navy is a whole lot of yelling. You, logically, know Maverick means well, but damn that was harsh, especially since the spiel was directed at Hangman. 
He washes his face, and body, with cold water but the shower does little to ease his racing mind. Then, he gets the bright idea to get it out of his system in the form of a confession. 
You hear the pounding on the door of your military-issued housing and you groan. The door opens with a loud screech, and you’re surprised to find Jake Seresin standing outside, hair still wet. 
“Seresin, what can I do for you?” You say with a smile, and sure, if this had been 3 days earlier you definitely would have told home to go home, or get lost. The turn around shocked even you, all because of a hospital visit. 
“Hear me out on this one, I really like you a lot and I think that’s why I came to the hospital. I was really scared, and I tried not to tell you about how I felt but…” At this point, you’re zoned out. His lips keep moving, and you keep staring at them. “When are you going to kiss me?” He hears, cutting through his rant. It takes you a moment to realize you’ve said it aloud, but you definitely notice when Jake's eyes are wide open, glued to your lips too.
It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt nervous about kissing someone, so he’s glad when you tug the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you. 
“Fina-fucking-ly” you say, and he laughs a little bit, chasing your lips again.
434 notes · View notes
letheace · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Asexual Teacup
800 notes · View notes
olive-garden-hoe · 4 months
Text
PLEASE SOMEONE LISTEN WHAT IF
“The Moon Will Sing” is ABOUT A PARENT
Note 1: this is in no way supposed to be definitive, it is my interpretation as someone who relates heavily to the song in this context
Note 2: this interpretation is in no way, shape, or form trying to say that the way the singer depicts her relationship with her parents in this song is indicative of her relationship with her parents in real life. It is not my place, nor anyone else’s, to speculate about how accurate this song is to her personal life. Though my wording may seem as though I am talking about the singer’s actual relationship with her parents, I mean it strictly in the context of the song. We must all respect the artist’s privacy.
“Tell me once again, I could’ve been anyone anyone else, before you made the choice for me”
The singer is expressing her disbelief that her whole fate was practically determined by her parents, that she could’ve been so much different if they didn’t mold her to be a certain way
“My feet knew the path we walked in the dark… I never gave a single thought to where it might lead”
The singer was unaware of the path her parent was taking her and was kept in the dark about what the steps her parents told her to take would lead. The fact that she ‘never gave a single thought’ implies naïveté that is consistent with an exceptionally young child blindly following their parents instructions
“All those empty rooms, we could have been anywhere… else, instead I made a bed with apathy”
The ‘empty rooms’ could be a reference to the unfurnished facets of her life that her parents may have forced her to leave empty in pursuit of ‘furnishing’ other ‘rooms’ (I.e. they won’t let her explore music because she needs to focus on grades). The bed of apathy likely means that she had become too tired to debate or fight back, that she opted for inaction and acceptance of her parents’ molding for the sake of ease and because she was too tired from working on furnishing these rooms to do anything besides continue the cycle.
“My heart knew the weight, ten years worth of dust and neglect, we made our peace with weariness and let it be”
This could be saying that the tiredness the singer expresses formerly exists in her parents as well, that everyone is just too tired to address any issues within their families. I would like to note that, while not explicitly stated, this may be referencing ‘The Hand that Feeds’ where her father was established to “work all his days.”
“The moon will sing a song for me, I loved you like the sun, bore the shadows that you made with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me…”
THE WHOLE VERSE IS SO FIRE OMG ANYWAYS The singer is expressing how she relates to the moon due to the way it is completely dépendant on the sun for its light. In the same way, she may be saying that she feels as though all the goodness or impressive qualities are only the result of her parents’ light. In other words, sheath be expressing a deep-seated fear that she is not quite fully a new person, rather just a combination of her parents and/or their actions
“Name your courage now”
Her parents may, in her adult life, be boasting about how good they were to her when she was a child. However, it is only putting a name to ‘courage’ that ultimately may have done more harm than good or have just been the bare minimum
“We could have had anything else, instead you hoarded all that’s left of me”
Now we’re getting into a new facet of the relationship with the parents! It seems that they also were overbearing in some way, stopping the singer from getting the experiences or friends she wanted.
“Swallowing your doubt, like swords to the pit of my belly”
She seems to be internalizing her parents’ cynicism and/or criticism and allowing that to mold her. It seems her parents not trusting her hurts her a lot, meaning she places a lot of emphasis on their approval/trust, which is supported by the first verse
“I want to feel the fire that you kept from me!”
In the story of Prometheus, the god steals fire from Mount Olympus to give to humans and gets punished for it. The reason this may be important is because the Crane Wives are no strangers to referencing folklore (look at the explanation behind their name). We can reasonably assume that they are acknowledging the double-faceted nature of fire that the myth of Prometheus displays. Fire is something that gives advancement, the basis of early and modern technology as well as a major way our world consumes energy. It also provides light and warmth, as well as an opportunity for rebirth (look at why forest fires are beneficial for forests). At the same time, fire is the great consumer, it spreads and burns as it goes, leaving ash in its wake. The Prometheus story not only references the consequences of bringing such a force to mortals, but also why Prometheus thought it was important to risk himself for. In this lyric, the singer references a fire that was kept from her, which from the previous discussion we can reasonably assume includes both the growth fire brings and the destruction it causes. I’m other words, I believe this lyric is saying that the singer desires for both sides of life, growth and harm, that her parents ‘protected’ her from.
21 notes · View notes
ratuszarsenal · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
so do you think foreign armies had some problems pronouncing Kościuszko?
'Oh mein Gott, Johann.. bekämpfen wir Koschtschuschko in Schtschekotschinn....'
130 notes · View notes
Text
I saw this prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial, and since I had just looked at all my shapeshifter stuff again, I kind of had to....
Tumblr media
Rays of moonlight stretched across the bedroom, shrinking as the moon climbed the night sky. It was full tonight. This was the kind of night which brewed legends.
The air was dense, a cold embrace Nolan couldn't escape. There wasn't a lot he could run from on the nights the moon was full anyway. Round in the sky, it beckoned the wild tides in his blood rise beyond his skin, his human skin.
For as long as anyone he knew could describe, the 'shifters in Nolan's family had struggled to hold themselves together when they heard the lady of the night's call. No one could explain their curse. The family blamed one eccentric dozen-times great fae grandfather anyway.
Fae power led to wild magic.
Tonight Nolan could not afford to be swept away by the current. His skin needed to stay human. He had to forget the tingle along his neck, arms, back, legs, and toes as hair grew in longer and thicker. He couldn't think about how his muscles tightened as they rearranged for a four limbed gait instead of two. Nolan couldn't let himself recall how pushing air out of his lungs for a howl was the starting gun for a gallop that made him feel truly alive.
Nolan couldn't be a wolf tonight.
Tonight, Nolan had to finish a marketing presentation.
10 notes · View notes
bitchboi-gogurt · 28 days
Text
"at least we have each other, right?" (mild flashing lights)
oh hey, would you look at that! a visualizer with original art this time, wonder how long that streak will last for
8 notes · View notes
callisto-fallen · 5 months
Text
A girl walks past my house each morning,
When mist blurs sunrise into watercolour.
Her shoulders are curled forward and a black ribbon clutches her hair
Like a rake gathering leaves charred by Autumn.
She plods down my street with her eyes tracing the floor,
As if the road behind her could wilt and she would never notice,
Or the cracks in the pavement could cave into crystals
And she would forever continue.
There is something peaceful in her glazed eyes,
Like dust turning a library to a desert,
Smothering texts and smoothing frayed carpet,
As she is comforted by grief for her own existence.
12 notes · View notes
nico-moist-moses · 2 months
Text
youtube
Its my queer coded Judas Iscariot song :]
@ghostpoetics
7 notes · View notes
steh-lar-uh-nuhs · 5 months
Note
Trick or treat? 🦇
Treat, treaty treat treat! <3
Took me a bit to get to this, eek!
No trigger warnings.
This is an...(outline?) for a fic I was going to do but haven't gotten around to!!
Oc's Career:
-Lead Singer of “Unholy Sorrow”
 -Primarily does gutturals
 -Practicing clean singing
Who she meets first?:
Jasper, but Alice introduces him to the band first. So he’s well prepared for her concert. He buys VIP tickets to her Washington show. 
OC’S INTERVIEW:
“How do you sit down and write albums?”
“What was it like to write this record?
Was “Eternal Agony” a hard record to write?
What’s your writing process like?
7 notes · View notes
frangirlwrites · 1 year
Text
My Sweet
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: An Impossible Journey
`````````````````````
"What's that you've got there?" 
"None of your God-damn business." Miguel snapped his flip phone shut. 
"How can we be besties if you insist on keeping secrets from me?!" Gojo whined, slinging an arm around the African sorcerer's shoulders.
Miguel shrugged him off, trying to right the balance of the heavy knapsack of supplies he carried. The vein in his left temple began to throb, and not for the first time. Gojo was like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in his ears. Whispering sweet nothings like the piece of shit that he was. It was bad enough that the man was untouchable. Miguel couldn't smack him if he wanted to and Gojo exploited that imbalance, finding entertainment in getting handsy whenever he wanted. Grabbing his hand in the middle of the cross walk, blowing air down the back of his neck while he was consulting with village elders, he even gave him a wet-willy on the plane.
Skin-ship, he called it.
He'd never known any Japanese man to be so handsy.
Geto was significantly more tolerable, rest his soul. 
Regardless, as soon as Miguel fulfilled his vow, he could be rid of that ingrate for good. He  thought he'd be done with Gojo after the Parade of a Thousand demons, but no. Geto had to go and get himself killed. He forfeited their family's goal, to create a utopia for jujutsu sorcerers, over a monster with a school girl's crush. 
Miguel had been lucky enough to survive Gojo on the battlefield but not without cost. Every time he thumbed over the tattered ends of the black rope,  his blood boiled, but not as much as Gojo's skin under the Saharan sun. Miguel eyed his partner who was red as a tomato, then the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight.
Maybe he'd die of  heatstroke and this whole ordeal could end without him having to break his binding vow..
"Miguel-san." Yuta piped up from a few paces back, clearly tired under the weight of his traveling gear, but in far better condition than his mentor. It was a miracle that Gojo's obnoxiousness hadn't rubbed off on his pupil. The two were polar opposites. Whereas Gojo was purposely rude and unhelpful, Yuta minded his manners and gratuitously searched for opportunities to prove his worth. "How far is your village?"
Damn. 
That's right. Miguel was taking them to his home, this time. Or at least, his place of birth. He hadn't looked back after leaving many years prior.
Gojo ears twitched, clearly yearning for an answer as well. 
"It's about a stones throw away." Miguel answered begrudgingly.
"Who's stone throw?" Gojo whined. "I'm a little league super star. That could mean anything. If I threw a rock right now, we might end up in Gibraltar."
Gojo hooked an arm around Miguel's. "Will I have to cross another ocean to meet your parents? I don't know if I can wait that long. Why don't you be a team player and tell us the actuall directions? I could get us all there in a blink with my infinite void."
"No."
"Why not?!" Gojo whined, pulling on Miguel's arm to make him stop. "Aaw, Yuta. Why don't you back me up?! I feel like Miguel is hiding some pertinent information from us."
"I am not."
"Then who's that cupcake on your phone?!"
"None of your Goddamn business."
"You're cheating on me?!" Gojo squealed and Yuta looked mildly uncomfortable with his teacher's childish antics.  "You keep messaging people I don't know. I thought we had something special!"
Despite Miguel's stank-expression, Gojo kept in character. The man new nothing about restraint and was clearly set on infiltrating any bit of privacy Miguel retained. "I owe you nothing outside of our agreement. "
"Tsk! Show it to me, now!" In the blink of an eye, Gojo was digging through Miguel's flip phone. 
"What the-" Miguel barely had time to register what had happened.
"Gojo-sensei...you really shouldn't." Yuta chided.
"Hush boy, I'll teach you how to catch a man in a lie. Hmm...Boogle, meTunes, Swindr???! I knew it. You sly dog! You're cheating with on with all these THOTs from Swindr. Wait...they're all too old. Tell me who you were looking at before!" 
Miguel growled. "You fucking tomato."
When Miguel lunged for the phone, Gojo chucked it.
"Yuta catch!" 
For the record, Yuta caught the phone on reflex; not to partake in Gojo's game of 'keep-away.' However, that didn't stop him from making a few curious swipes to the still active text app. Miguel and Gojo were occupied with each other, too busy to notice Yuta had found what Miguel had been looking at earlier.
Or rather...who.
"Uhh.." Yuta looked down at his feet. A blush marring his already sun-flushed cheeks at the picture. 
"Yuuuuuta, Yutaaaaa!!" A ghastly voice carried through the dust-filled breeze. "What's wrong?!"
"I'm fine Rika, don't worry." Yuta rubbed the ring on his finger. Rika's curse was very sensitive and needed to be handled with care; for the sake of others, not his own. 
"Your heart is pounding." Rika moaned. A massive claw rested on Yuta's shoulder, while her single eye whipped back toward his bickering teachers. 
"Hey! Are you picking on Yuta?!!!" Rika screamed, causing sand to kick up into a desert flurry.
Yuta's mentors, who had been wrestling in the sand, froze. 
"Nope." They piped up in unison. "We love Yuta. He's the best." 
Rika looked confused then smiled. "Yes! Yes, he is!"
"Shhh. Rika, I'm fine. Promise." Yuta beckoned her closer, to which she enthusiastically complied, and kissed her cheek. "Sleep." 
"Aaaw, ok." Rika blushed and disappeared in a blink.
All three men breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to be spared from her wrath.
Gojo recovered first, noticing his pupil's heat flushed cheeks. "Yuta, my friend. You look like a man who's seen something. As your teacher I command you to report what you've learned."
"I did." Yuta gulped. Confirming his teacher's suspicions. "There was a girl."
Gojo nodded, beckoning him to continue with the most serious face he could muster. "..And?"
"And.." Yuta parroted.
"Did she look like an assassin?" Gojo squinted at Miguel suspiciously, who responded by rolling his eyes.
Yuta shook his head no, despite his shaking hands. 
"Miguel. In all seriousness,  you need to be upfront with us. You've been travel buddies with Yuta for a little over a month. I can't be here all the time. I need to know that I can trust you with my very precious student. "
"Considering you 'binding vowed' my ass into being a glorified babysitter, you have nothing to worry about."  Miguel dead-panned. " I'm formally domesticated." 
"You make it sound so bad." Gojo teased.
"It is."
"Then lets start over. Perhaps are introductions can change the tone of our relationship." Gojo cleared his throat, winked at Yuta, and jumped. "Oh my gosh! We seem to be going in the same direction. My name's Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you!"
Gojo held out is hand.
"Kiss my ass." Miguel started walking down the next dune.
"We'll that didn't go well." Gojo wiped the sweat from his brow. The speed at which his demeanor shifted was astonishing. "Seriously though. For your sake, it's better if you don't hide any pertinent information from us."
"I've told you all there is to know, everything that's relevant to the black-whip." Miguel sighed. "I know its origin, generally speaking, but so much was destroyed during the colonization of the continent... the best bet is to follow the lore. Until we find something concrete, each village we search is another piece to the puzzle. According to the Griot we spoke to,  the black-whip, seems to have been passed through a few lineages, only to be pillaged and sold to another."
Gojo listened intently. "So your saying.."
"What we're looking for it not so much a place, but a bloodline."
"Not another clan drama." Gojo cringed.
"We call them tribes here." Miguel chuckled. "But yes, we are nose-diving into some historical clan drama. It doesn't matter what tribes once held the cursed tool. Ownership doesn't equate the ability to replicate its mechanism. Unless you find a descendant from the original tribe who crafted the black-whip, you can kiss your hopes of restoring its power goodbye."
"Great!" Gojo beamed. "And how good are our chances of finding one of these black-whip clan descendants."
"Between, the transatlantic slave trade, the arab slave trade, tribal wars,  colonization, geographical shifts, and regular human migratory tendencies..slim to none, but not impossible. They could be literally ANYWHERE in the world at this point...or no where at all. Only time will tell."
"That's not good."
"No it isn't." Miguel griped. "This search could last a life-time, and I'm bound by vow to see it through, thanks to your higher-up bastards.."
...Gojo whistled. "Well. I hope you two have fun!"
"Wait. Sensei, what do you mean by that-"
"Bye!" Gojo grinned and was gone in a blink. 
"Huh?!!! Sensei wait!"
"Let his ass go." Miguel grumbled, picking up the bag of supplies Gojo left in his wake. "I work better without him." 
"First things first." He hefted the load onto Yuta's shoulders so that he carried knapsacks in front and behind. They were almost as big as he was. His knees buckled but with a groan he strengthened his stance and trudged behind Miguel down the path. "Let's put some muscle on you. I've got a feeling you'll gonna need it."
"Oh. Y-yeah." Yuta mumbled staring at his skinny ankles peaking from behind the long white indigenous robes he bought in the last village. "I'll do my best!"
Miguel spared him a glance. Luckily, Yuta was nothing like his teacher. Instead of obnoxious, invading, and kniving, Yuta was earnest, respectful, and best of all quiet. "Cover your face so you don't get heat stroke."
Yuta fumbled around with his head wrap. The shopkeeper had only shown him once, how to properly fix his head wrap. There was a loose piece of cloth that hung over his left ear that should tuck in somewhere across his face....but the knapsacks left little room for his arms to reach properly. 
Tired of seeing him fumble around, rough brown hands grabbed the cloth and tucked it in for him so that his face was protected from the sun and sand. "There."
"Thanks." Yuta offered sheepishly. He thought for a moment deciding it was a good time to ask Miguel directly. "Mmmm, by the way... who was the girl in the picture, Miguel-san."
Miguel took a moment to regard him and continued along the way.
 "Wouldn't you like to know." He grumbled. "Come on. The village is on the other side of that dune. We should be able to find lodging, and a good stew."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued...
33 notes · View notes
gtbutterfly · 2 months
Text
Jen and Gabby: chapter four
the fourth chapter of my GT story. Jen and Tim finally go to find Gabby. I hope you enjoy it! criticism is appreciated.
CW: dehumanization towards tinies, squeezing, a human is poked with a needle, and a borrower is kicked and knocked unconscious, (it was originally more violent, but I ended up changing it since I thought it wasn't good for the story,)
heres chapter 1
heres chapter 3
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a little after midday, and the sun which usually would have shined through the windows was blocked by the gray clouds outside. Gabby was on a dresser in Sara's room, looking outside one of these windows. She was thinking about Jen. She could still feel the presence of Sara looming massively behind her. Gabby didn’t know if Jen would approve of her getting help from Sara. Jen seemed never to need anyone's help, especially not a humans. Jen was so strong and brave, and there was nothing Gabby wanted other than to be as brave as her sister was, except to be with her again. Sara gently rubbed the tiny girl's back with her finger, causing her to flinch and turn around towards the giant human. 
“Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you with that,” Sara said,
“It’s ok,” Gabby said softly, “You can keep doing it,” Gabby turned back around to the window, staring out at the grass and dark clouds outside. Sara resumed gently rubbing the young tiny’s back to comfort her.
“So, you alright?” Sara asked. Gabby shrugged.
“I’m worried about Jen. what if I never see her again?” Gabby said, looking down.
“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Sara said softly,  “I bet you’re sisters out looking for you right as we speak,”
“But what if something happens to her?” Gabby asked, “What if something happens to me before she finds me?”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Sara said. Gabby turned towards the human again.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I’ll take care of you until you see her again, I promise,” Sara said. Gabby softly smiled at the human, still afraid but hopeful.
“Thank you for not hurting me, Ms. Sara,” Gabby said.
“You’re welcome, and it's just Sara, by the way,” Sara smiled at her.
“Oh, sorry,” Gabby looked down, “so, um, where will you be keeping me?”
“I’ll have to find a place somewhere in this room, so no one else will find you, especially not Danny,” Sara said. 
“um…Ms. Sara…sorry, I mean... Sara?” Gabby said, worried about the human getting mad at her for getting her name wrong.
“What is it?” Sara asked.
“um…I know you said not to worry about it, but um…why does Danny want to show me to your father?” Gabby asked sheepishly.
“Oh, it's nothing,” Sara said, trying to think of a way to sugarcoat the answer. “Our dad does science stuff with animals, and medicine and stuff. He probably wants him to study you or whatever,” Gabby didn’t understand most of those words. She tilted her head at Sara.
“Study? What do you mean?” Gabby asked.
“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to be scared.” Sara said, not realizing Gabby's confusion. “There's no way Dad would do anything to hurt you, you're basically a tiny human, a kid no less.”
“Oh, ok,” Gabby said, still not quite understanding. She momentarily thought about Sara's words and asked, “What do you mean a tiny human?”
“Well, I mean, look at you,” Sara gestured to the tiny’s body. “You have hair on your head, and human-like skin, and you walk on two legs, and you talk, and show emotion, you’re practically the same species that I am, just three inches tall.” 
“Well, Jen and the other adult borrowers say that we and humans are different species and that you would…hurt us,” Gabby said, a bit worried at Sara taking offense to that.
“I mean, I guess there are plenty of bad humans that would hurt people like you, just like there are plenty of bad humans that hurt each other,” Sara said, “but I’m sure it's not all of us, at least I know I wouldn’t hurt you, not intentionally.”
“Um…ok,” Gabby looked down. “Um, Sara?”
“What is it, Gabby?” Sara asked.
“...I miss Jen,” Gabby admitted. “She's so brave and I’m…not. Normally she could be brave for both of us, but… we’ve never been apart before.”
“Oh,” Sara looked at Gabby sympathetically. “It’s ok, you’ll see her again,”
“You promise?” Gabby asked, her eyes slightly wet. Sara gulped. She didn’t want Gabby to be disappointed if she ended up being wrong.
“I’m sure of it. And hey, maybe I can be your temporary sister until you two get back together if that’s ok with you. Is it?” Sara said, looking at Gabby kneeling to her eye level, her head resting on the dresser. Gabby looked down and thought for a second, before looking at the human and smiling. 
“That would be great, thank you,” Gabby said, before hesitantly approaching Sara's head on the dresser. Before Sara could say anything, Gabby hugged her cheek. Sara smiled silently before picking her up and hugging her back.
Jen and Tim traversed the human house carefully and quickly, running from hiding spot to hiding spot. They had to be on high alert not to be caught. It seemed full of every human Jen saw in the portrait on the wall earlier. They saw the adult human in the living room while they hid under a couch. He was smoking and reading a newspaper while the television was turned on. They ran from under the couch down the hall to the dining room, where they hid under the table. Jen peered under the tablecloth to see when the coast would be clear. She saw the human with black hair with purple tips walk past in the distance holding something, it looked like a plate of strawberries, but Jen couldn’t tell from so far away. Still, the sight of strawberries only made Jen more determined to find her sister, knowing it was her favorite food. 
“What is it?” Tim asked Jen.
“Shhh,” Jen shushed him before answering, “It's a teenage human girl, she's holding strawberries I think,”
“Do you think they’re for Gabby?” Tim asked.
“They’re holding her captive, why would they be feeding her her favorite food?” Jen said.
“Yeah, right,” Tim said, before peering out the cloth with Jen. When the coast was clear, the two borrowers ran from under the table and entered the kitchen. Jen looked at the other side of the kitchen and saw a human boy standing at the sink. Jen frantically looked around and hid behind a broomstick leaning on the wall. It was a risky hiding place, since if any human looked behind or moved the broomstick, they would find her, so Jen knew she had to move fast. Tim came into the kitchen after Jen. he managed to open a cabinet door and climb inside it just as another human entered the room, just barely missing him. Jen watched the human walk past the broomstick, holding her breath. It was an adult woman with blonde hair, probably the mother of the family. She opened the refrigerator and looked inside it before closing it and facing the human child standing at the sink.
“Do we not have any milk?” Jen heard the woman ask.
“Nah, we used it this morning on the cereal.” The human boy said. 
“Ugh, I need milk to make my pudding for tonight.” The woman sighed, “I’m gonna go get some, you finish doing the dishes and then clean your room, ok Danny?” 
“Why do I have to clean my room?” the boy asked.
“Because it's a mess,” the woman said,
“ugh, “ The child groaned, “Fine,”
“See you later honey, love you,” the woman said, before leaving the kitchen. Tim peered out of the cabinet and looked around, spotting Jen behind the bristles of the broom. He waved at her to come to him. Jen, after looking around to see if the coast was clear, sprinted across the kitchen floor and hid in the cabinet with Tim.
“Phew, that was close,” Jen said softly.
“Yeah, you almost got seen,” Tim whispered back.
“That kid, at the sink,” Jen said, “that's the brat that kidnapped Gabby. I bet he knows where she is.”
“No way, he is?” Tim asked, peering out the cabinet at the child. 
“Yeah. the kid that woman called ‘Danny’. That's probably his name.” Jen whispered.
“So, what's the plan? Should we interrogate him?” Tim asked. “Good cop/Bad cop?”
“What?” Jen said, confused.
“Oh yeah, you don’t watch TV shows as I do,” said Tim, “y’know, you threaten him with your needle, and I’ll be nice to him,”
“That's the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Jen said. “He’s a human, we can’t just confront him. What has Rebecca done to you?”
“You know what, fair point.” Tim sighed. “What's your plan?”
“We follow him until we find Gabby,” Jen said. “He has to have her locked up somewhere in this house, we just have to wait until he leads us to her.”
“Alright, should we stay in here until he leaves the kitchen?” Tim asked.
“Yeah, Gabby’s probably in this brat’s room, we just have to wait until he goes there,” Jen said, looking out the crack in the cabinet door at the human child. 
The two borrowers waited for the human to finish doing the dishes. Eventually, he left the sink and began walking out of the kitchen. Jen and Tim got out of the cabinet and exited the kitchen after him. The tinies stalked the human through the house, again ducking from hiding place to hiding place until the human went into his room and closed the door behind him. The gap under the massive door was just barely big enough for the borrowers to squeeze through. As Jen kept watch, Tim got on the ground and pulled himself under the closed door into the human's room, and afterward Jen did the same. The walls of the room were dark green, as were the child's bed sheets. There was trash and clothes scattered on the floor, which was lucky for the borrowers, since now they had more hiding places. The human boy didn’t notice them, he was on his knees, looking under his bed and shoving the clothes and trash around. Jen and Tim hid behind an empty shoe box as they watched him.
“It doesn’t look like he’s cleaning,” Tim whispered. “Sorta looks like he's looking for something,”
“Where's Gabby?” Jen wondered out loud to Tim. “Is she under the bed, and he's getting her?”
“He would’ve pulled her out by now, right?” said Tim. They watched as the boy gave a frustrated groan and pulled himself from under the bed. He started crawling around the room on his knees, still picking things up as if trying to find something.
“Come on, where are you?” the boy asked seemingly no one. “Come out already, I know you’re here,”
“Who's he talking to?” Tim asked softly, not trying to get the boys' attention, “he can’t know we’re here,”
“It must be Gabby, she got away,” Jen said, before smiling softly, almost pridefully. “Atta girl,”
“If she managed to escape, it wasn’t from anything you taught her,” Tim said before Jen punched him in the arm. “Ow, anyway,” he rubbed his shoulder, “if the kid doesn’t have her, then where is she?” Jen turned towards Tim.
“Probably hiding somewhere in the house,” she whispered, “Gabby wouldn’t go outside without someone with her, she's too afraid of getting lost or hurt by an animal.”
As the borrowers talked, the human boy kept getting more and more frustrated at not finding the tiny he had.
“Ugh, where are you?” he groaned, “if you don’t come out, I’ll pull your little head off!”
“Yeah, he’s definitely looking for Gabby,” Tim said, looking concerned.
“Let's go, I don’t think Gabby would’ve stayed in this room,” Jen said, standing up. The two borrowers peered behind the shoe box at the human, who was on the other side of the room, tearing through piles of clothes, toys, trash, and other objects on the floor. Jen looked at the door as the two began to make their way to it. Then, the human stood up and looked around the room, spotting the tiny borrowers on the floor. 
“Hey!” the human yelled, causing Tim and Jen's hearts to drop. They began to run, Jen pulled her needle out from her belt. The human boy quickly moved to the other side of the room. Jen looked behind her at Tim, who was falling behind. The human reached down at him, grabbing Tim with his massive hand. Tim was restrained in the fingers of the human and lifted into the air before Jen. The boy reached down for Jen next but stopped when he saw her pointing the end of the needle at his hand defensively. The boy got on his knees, trying to get a closer look at the borrower.
“You?” the human said, squinting at Jen, “You're the one that stabbed my hand at Jake's house!” Jake was the name of the human who lived in the house Jen and Gabby used to live in. Jen looked at the human with anger. 
“You’re the one who stole my sister!” she yelled, not thinking. 
“You things can talk?” the boy asked,
“Where is she?!” Jen yelled sternly, her eyes widened in madness and anger. She was at a breaking point.
“So the one I had before was your sister?” The boy asked, “Heh, who's this one? Your boyfriend?” he held up Tim, who was being squeezed in his grip. Tim squirmed and tried to escape, only to be held tighter and more painfully.
“Put him down!” Jen commanded, yelling at the top of her lungs.
“Or what? I’m not scared of that little toothpick you have,” the human said. Jen scowled in anger.
“Can- can we all just calm down?” Tim said from the human hand, only to be squeezed tighter.
“Now that I have you two, I don’t need your sister anymore,” the human said. “Dad will be more impressed with two adults anyway,” 
Jen had enough. When the boy reached her, she lunged forward with her needle in hand. The human quickly pulled his hand back upon being pricked, rubbing it in pain before hitting Jen with the back of his hand, knocking her over.
“Jen! No!” Tim exclaimed, still in the hand of the human boy, who gave him a slight squeeze.
“Fine. I only really need one anyway,” the human said, standing up, and kicking Jen when she stood up. The human, still holding a weakened Tim in his fist, walked out of the room. Jen was lying on the ground next to a wall. She felt pain coursing through her entire body. She slowly tried to get up but fell back to her knees. She didn’t have her needle anymore. It was lost somewhere in the desolate mess of the boys' room. She didn't know what to do. All she could think about was Gabby and how she failed her. And now, she’s failed Tim as well.
Gabby sat on a large human plate of strawberries that rested on Sara's bed. She was biting into one while Sara sat next to her with her legs crossed, towering over Gabby and the plate.
“You really like strawberries, kid,” Sara said, looking down at the tiny.
“Yeah! It's my favorite food in the world! I hardly get to have any, since it's so hard to get,” Gabby said, wiping some of the clear red juice off her face with her sleeve. “Why do you humans keep it in those giant cold metal boxes, fridges?”
“To keep them cold,” Sara said. “They’ll get bad and mushy otherwise.”
“Oh, ok,” Gabby said. “I wouldn’t want strawberries to be bad and mushy, but it still sucks that fridges are so hard to borrow from, that's what Jen says at least,”
“Hmm,” Sara thought, “well, maybe after Jen finds you, I can bring you strawberries. Maybe you could even stay nearby,”
“Really?” Gabby asked, “Well, Jen probably won’t trust you, she doesn’t like humans, like, at all.”
“She doesn’t?” Sara asked.
“No borrowers really ‘like’ humans,” Gabby said, “but Jen especially, she’s always talking about not being seen by them, and what they’ll do to us… she was kinda right,”
“You mean…Danny?” Sara asked.
“Yeah…but you're different from humans like that. You're nice to me, you gave me strawberries!” Gabby smiled, taking another bite out of her fruit.
“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of humans that would be nice, and plenty that are mean. Probably an equal amount.” Sara shrugged. “I guess you’d just gotta get to know them,”
“No way any other human would be as good as you,” Gabby said, “you’ve got to be the only good human I’ve ever heard of, nothing like the stories.”
“Huh, glad to hear that,” Sara said, “do you think Jen will think the same?”
“Hmm, I’ll tell her you’re nice and you gave me food and everything, but I wouldn’t count on it,” Gabby said, chewing.
“Does your sister have any reason to hate humans, or is it just like, species prejudice?” Sara asked, leaning down at Gabby. Gabby’s smile faded slightly, and she looked down.
“Well, our mom and dad…” she paused, “...they…uh…well,”
“Oh,” Sara said, filled with guilt for her question. “I’m so sorry.”
“Uh, it's fine, I don’t remember them much anyways,” Gabby said, trying to make Sara feel better. “I was around three or four when it happened, I think Jen was around my age.”
“So, they were…y’know, by a human?” Sara asked.
“Yeah, me and Jen have been by ourselves ever since” Gabby looked down, “we were really sad that they were gone, but, Jen said that as long as I was still here, part of them would still be alive.”
“Aww,” Sara melted at the sentiment Gabby was showing. “Your sister sounds like she cares so much about you,”
“yeah,” Gabby said, looking down, and taking another bite of a strawberry. Suddenly, there was a loud knocking sound at the door. Gabby dropped her strawberry and flinched.
“Sara, open up!” a voice came from out in the hall, it sounded like Danny.
“Shi- shoot,” Sara exclaimed under her breath, “it's Danny, you need to hide somewhere,” Sara put her hands out for Gabby to climb into, but she hesitated.
“Sara! Didn’t mom say not to lock our doors?” Danny said, still outside. Gabby crawled into Sara's large, soft hands, sitting on her palm and hugging herself. Sara looked around the room for a place to hide Gabby, an eventuary coming to a taller dresser, with various objects and figurines on top of it. Sara gently placed Gabby down next to a picture frame she could hide behind.
“Are you good here? You're not scared of being so high?” Sara asked,
“It's fine,” Gabby said, looking anxious. 
“Ok, hide here, and don’t make a sound. I’ll come get you down from here when I’m done with Danny,”
“Ok,” Gabby said, backing behind the picture. She looked nervous. Sara looked back at her hiding place before opening the door for Danny.
“What?” Sara said, sounding annoyed at her brother.
“Stop playing dumb, Sara, I know you have it!” Danny said.
“Have what?” Sara asked, trying to seem unaware.
“The little human thing I found! You took it!” Danny accused.
“What are you talking about? ‘Little human thing?’ listen to yourself.” Sara rolled her eyes and tried to close her door, but Danny pushed it open and stepped into her room.
“Stop lying! You’re gonna give it back to me, now! Or else.” Danny threatened.
“Or else what?” Sara asked, “I don’t even know what you're talking about, like, an action figure or something?” Danny grew a devious, malicious smile, as he reached into his pocket.
“Well, if you don’t give it back, you won’t like what happens to this one.” Danny pulled something out of his pocket, or rather someone. Sara almost thought it was a toy at first, before realizing it was another tiny, just like Gabby. They looked older, with brown hair and pale skin. Gabby peered behind the picture she was hiding behind. Her eyes widened as she saw the familiar borrower in the human boy's fist. It looked like Tim.
“What…what is that?” Sara asked, still playing dumb about the situation. “Oh, shut up! You have one just like it, that you stole from me.” Danny said, squeezing the tiny person in his grip. Sara looked horrified at them. They looked like they were in pain, squirming in the tight fist of her brother.
“You're hurting him!” Sara yelled, “What's wrong with you?”
“I’m barely squeezing him,” Danny said, “just shows to show how weak these things are. I’m barely holding him tight and he looks terrible!” 
“Danny, this isn’t funny, let him go,” Sara commanded.
“Give me the smaller one and maybe I will,” Danny said. 
“What? No, I don’t even have her!” Sara said. “Danny, this is insane. You’re gonna crush him or something,”
“I never said the tiny I had before this one was a her,” Danny said with a disgusting smirk. Gabby gulped from atop the dresser. Her mind raced thinking of what to do and what would happen. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Danny, but she didn’t want Tim to be hurt instead. Even if it wasn’t Tim, she didn’t want some random borrower to die either. Gabby could only think one thing: what would Jen do? Jen was so brave and so strong. Jen cared so much about the other borrowers and about Gabby. Gabby wanted to be just like her, she wanted to be brave. But she wasn’t, she was hiding, and watching what could be one of her friends be squeezed by a human who was looking for her. Watching one of her friends be hurt because of her.
“Danny, this is serious,” Sara said, stern and angry. “Stop hurting him or else I’ll tell Mom.”
“If you tell Mom, I’ll tell Dad,” Danny said. 
“Do you really think Dad will approve of this just because he’s a scientist?” Sara yelled.
“Dad does worse things to rats every day,” Danny said, squeezing Tim harder, causing him to grunt in pain. “But with these, he won’t need rats anymore.”
“You’re sick,” Sara said.
“Give me the other one, or this one is getting its ribs broken!” Danny threatened. Sara hesitated to speak. She couldn’t bear to have this being, this person, die at her brother's hands, but she could break the promise she gave Gabby just earlier that day. She couldn’t let any terrible thing happen to her, or cause her to never see her sister again. Tim, Meanwhile, shivered and tensed in Danny's hand. Everything below his shoulders was in pain, nothing seemed broken, but it was getting close to it. If the human squeezed even tighter, he had no doubt in his mind that he would be injured. 
“Last chance,” Danny readjusted his fingers around the borrower. Tim closed his eyes and braced himself, when suddenly,
“I’m here!” a small voice yelped from on top of the dresser. Sara turned around, eyes filled with sock and dread. Danny loosened his grip and looked up at the three-inch tall girl he kidnapped the day before, now standing in front of a picture frame, speaking to him for the first time.
“I’m here, please don’t hurt him, I’ll let you take me,” Gabby said, tears swelling in her eyes, as she spoke in fear, trying to be brave.
“Heh, well, if that's what you want,” Danny said, stepping passed Sara to the dresser. Sara still gaped in shock at Gabby revealing herself,
“Gabby….no….” she said under her breath, as Gabby was grabbed by Danny's other hand.
“Sara and Danny,” another voice was heard approaching from the hall, it sounded like an older man. “What are you two arguing about?” the sibling's father stepped into the room.
“Dad, look at these things I found!” Danny ran up to his father, displaying Gabby and Tim like they were cool rocks he found in their backyard.
“They aren’t things, they’re people!” Sara yelled, as their father stared dumbfounded at the two tinies. “Danny kidnapped these two, and he’s been hurting them!”
“Shut up Sara,” Danny said.
“Danny, where did you find these?” their father asked, “do you know what these things are?”
“...no, not really,” Danny said, looking at the tinies in his fist.
“Get something, get a jar, no, a box, or something,” their father said, “are there any boxes in here?” he looked around Sara’s room and found a shoe box on a shelf. He took the shoes out and had Danny drop the two tinies into it, before closing the box, leaving Tim and Gabby in darkness.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Sara asked.
“Kids, these are lilliputians,” the father said, holding the box, “they are an extremely rare species to find, or catch. They’re extremely intelligent, and have DNA and anatomy almost identical to humans, apart from the size, obviously.”
“Exactly, they’re people,” Sara said,
“No, not exactly,” her father said.
“...what?” Sara said in disbelief.
“Legally, they’re barely recognized as animals. Most people don’t even know they exist, they’re practically a myth.” the father turned around. “I’ve always proposed that they should be used for testing instead of animals since they would bring much more accurate results, but they were always too hard to come across for that to be an option.” “...no…no, you can’t be serious,” Sara said. “You're going to experiment on what are basically tiny human beings?”
“Sara, I know you’re concerned about… ethics, but we’ll have to discuss this later,” the sibling's father turned to the doorway of the room, “I have to get these to my place of work,” he exited the room. Sara followed him out into the hall, continuing to protest.
“Day, you can’t do this!” Sara yelled.
“Not now, Sara,” her father said, opening the front door. “Oh, and thanks for bringing this to my attention, Danny.” he grabbed his keys and left the house, taking the two tinies with him. Sara gaped at the door, not believing what she’d just witnessed. Danny stood next to her and laughed under his breath. Sara turned towards him.
“Why would you do that?” Sara asked, “What the hell did you have to gain from doing this?”
“Uh, Dad’s happy, isn’t he?” Danny said, “That's good, right? You never make him happy.”
“You just sent two innocent people to be experimented on like animals,” Sara said,
“You heard Dad, they’re not-”
“Dad's wrong!” Sara interrupted her brother, “You’re wrong, neither of you even spoke to them, and now they’re gonna be bred and drugged and caged for no good reason.” Sara said furiously. They both stared at each other silently for a moment. Danny slowly processed what he had done, thinking about his sister's words. Sara walked back down the hall. “I hope you’re happy,” she said, before going back into her room.
Sara sat at her desk in her room, looking at the plate of strawberries she had earlier. There were leaves from fully eaten ones and an unfinished one that was likely to never be finished. Sara sighed and picked up an untouched one, eating it. There was a knock at her door. Sara knew neither of her parents were home yet, so it was clear who it was.
“Go away, Danny. I’m not in the mood.” Sara said. Danny entered the room. Sara turned to him angry and annoyed. He had something behind his back.
“Hey, so, I had something, and, I think you should have it,” Danny said, looking neutral.
“I don’t want your stupid apology, Danny, not after what you did.” Sara turned away from him.
“I’m not apologizing, I just don’t want this thing smelling up my room,” Danny said, annoyed. “You seem like you like these things, so here, you can do whatever you want with it.” he held something out to Sara. She turned around and looked at what was in his hands, before taking it immediately. It was another borrower, this one with her eyes closed.
“Where…” Sara started,
“It was with the boy one I found, I kicked it to the other side of my room,” Danny said, “pretty sure it's dead, so, do with it what you will.” Danny turned around and left the room. Sara rested the borrower's unconscious body on her desk. A first, she put her finger on the tinies wrist, before putting her ear to her chest. There was a heartbeat. She was still alive.
14 notes · View notes
Text
More random dialogue I'm working on. Or should I say monologue?
The souls contracts? Well I etch them on to their bodies. On their skin? No, no, no, I etch them into their bones. Skin can be flayed. I use blood to etch them onto their bones and scar their souls; just a little yah no. The deeper the better. That way deep deep down they belong to me.
4 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
HELLO! I'm looking for constructive criticism on my fellow here, Kian's, design! I feel like smth is off, but IDK what
FULL Kian (UNNAMED) Moore GENDER (UNDECIDED) PRONOUNS Anything except for she/her SPECIES Bengal cat AGE 30 ORIENTATION (UNDECIDED) OCCUPATION Employee of (UNNAMED FNAF SL) VOICECLAIM currently Jack Stauber (5/10)
Kian Moore is a bengal cat! He's related to Drew Moore, Alice Moore and Cassandra Moore; Alice being his sibling, Drew being his cousin and Cassie being his adopted daughter! :D
I know I want to establish in his design that he's a friendly, kind bengal cat with freckles wearing a 90's tracksuit! (More geometry in the tracksuit the better)
9 notes · View notes