Tumgik
#part twenty
thedecayingapplefiles · 2 months
Text
Part Twenty
"Adapting? Adapting how?" Sweetie questioned, eyebrows furrowing. They were adapting? That was gonna put a stop to them trying to find a cure, because they'd have to restart their research... She grunted in frustration, a small wave of helplessness flowing through her.
"They got smarter. Planning ambushes. They took out everyone in Equestria that we know of." Fluttershy shook her head.
"So? You don't know everyone is dead! We should try to find survivors. To be sure we aren't alone!" Sweetiebelle stood up, looking at Fluttershy, who had an unamused expression.
"That's a death wish." The yellow pegasus shook her head once more.
"Please, Fluttershy. One round around Ponyville. SOMEONE has to be alive." Sweetie pleaded, making Fluttershy sigh.
"Fine. Get ready, we're leaving now."
Tumblr media
23 notes · View notes
tv-moments · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Your Honor
Season 2, “Part Twenty”
Director: Rosemary Rodriguez
DoP: Anette Haellmigk
6 notes · View notes
fishnets-fingers · 2 years
Text
⭐️ SNEAK PEAK⭐️
Six Months - Part Twenty
….
“What the fuck is talking her so damn long,” Harry sighs, leaning against the side of his car. It was eight in the morning, and he’s been waiting outside the Sathish’s for over twenty minutes now. He fishes out his phone from the back pocket and taps on her contact name for the third time.
“Hi. So so sorry. Give me like two seconds. I’ll be out. Sorry,” she flusteredly says, and hangs up before he could get a word in.
“I’m gonna kill her,” he mutters.
A few minutes later she comes barrelling through the front door. Phone tucked under her chin, water bottle in one hand, a tote in the other. She was wearing her black faux leather pants with an olive sweater over a white shirt. Her hair was still in a bun, messy, a few stands that have come loose stuck out every which way. She hotfoots over to him in her high heels. The strappy black stilettos click unceremoniously against the white wood of the steps of the front porch; Harry worries, hoping she doesn’t lose her stride. Those two thin tiny black straps around her ankles and her toes, always made him question their ability to keep her feet secure. But she makes it to him. 
“Baby, I’ve been waiting for half an -”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” She interrupts, dropping her tote on the passenger seat through his window. He goes to get her phone tucked between her neck and chin. “Thanks,” she says, taking a huge breath in. 
“I had a faculty meeting with the professors early this morning. I took it from the cinema room and fell asleep at four in the morning. Sorry. It’s super dark in there and managed to snooze through the alarms. I woke up to you calling,” she explains, with an apologetic smile.
“We can go another day. I’m happy to cuddle and sleep too,” he tells her.
“No. No. I need this today. I’ve been eating nothing but cereal, oats, pancakes, and porridge for breakfast since we came back from New Orleans. I’m sick of it. I need my South Indian tiffin.”
….
MASTERPOST
@0oolookitsme @sunandherflores
16 notes · View notes
chobit92 · 2 years
Text
House Of Wax: Part Twenty
@rubycstory07 😊
Not sure if anyone is still reading this but hey. Not sure if I like this chapter, think I’ve made Vincent too soft, he probably would have stabbed her lol
Warnings: Rape (Mentioned), Miscarriage (Mentioned), Self harm (Mentioned) 
(Kaia wakes up and squints at the brightness of the room. Someone’s opened the grubby curtains and the sunlight is streaming into the room. She has spent most of the last two weeks lying in bed. She hasn’t eaten much and has mostly just slept. Vincent had stitched up her wounds, dabbed TCP on her split lip and then carried her to bed. She looks down at her arms which are still bandaged. One because of a wound she herself made. The other Bo and his knife. She wonders why Vincent took such good care of her afterwards. Perhaps her plan is starting to work after all. Perhaps she can convince him that Bo is evil and they would be better off without him. But then maybe he only fixed her up because Bo told him to. He always does exactly as Bo says after all. She sighs and closes her eyes trying to go back to sleep. She hears the door open a few minutes later and footsteps. She tenses up waiting for hands to start pawing at her. She hears something being put down on the bedside cabinet.).
Lester: Thought you might want some breakfast.
(She doesn’t move.).
Lester: Come on girl you gotta eat, no use starving yourself.
Kaia: Piss off. What do you care? You’re just as sick as he is.
Lester: Now look I’m trying to be nice to you.
Kaia: Well bang up job ya’ll are doing.
(Lester sighs.).
Kaia: Just go away and leave me alone.
Lester: Look I ain’t saying it’s right what my brother did...But did you honestly wanna have his kid?
Kaia: It was my baby too.
Lester: So you wanted it?
Kaia: I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to be raped, I didn’t want to be beaten and tortured and held captive. I didn’t want to be pregnant and I didn’t want someone to beat me so bad that I lost a baby. I also don’t want you coming in here bringing me fucking breakfast and telling me that you’re trying to be nice. Fuck off. I dread to think what it would be like if you were all horrible to me.
Lester: Well...It’s there if you want it. Coffee too. I’ll leave you to your pity party.
(Lester leaves the room closing the door behind him. Kaia lets out a sob and closes her eyes. Fucking bastards.).
 (It’s late afternoon and Kaia is sitting in the church next to Whitney. She is crying. This is the first time she’s left the house in two weeks.).
Kaia: I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why me? Why us? You know what he’s done now? He got me pregnant then when he found out he beat me so bad that I lost the baby. I’m still bleeding. I should probably see a doctor really but that ain’t happening is it? Be just my luck wouldn’t it? Survive Bo for this long only to get killed by a fucking infection or some shit! I thought Vincent was different but now...I’m not so sure. He just stood there and watched Bo beating me. He just watched as I lost my baby and he did nothing. Nothing! Why would you do that?
(She wipes her eyes.).
Kaia: I tried to kill myself. Slashed my wrist with a razor. But oh no I’m not allowed to die am I? No not until Bo says! Vincent patched me up. He took care of me. It kinda felt like he cared. Kinda didn’t. But then I realised that he probably only did all that on Bo’s orders. He’s the boss and everyone has to do what he says. God he’s such a fucking bully!
(Then don’t let him be. Fight back.).
Kaia: With what? I have nothing.
(Even if she managed to hurt or kill Bo his two brothers would have something to say about that. She highly doubts she could take them all on.).
Kaia: I’m gonna die here.
(No.).
Kaia: I am.
(Fight. Kaia turns and looks at Whitney. Fight!).
Kaia: I’ll try.
(She gets up and turns around. She stops dead as she sees Vincent standing just a few feet from where she was sitting. She wipes her eyes then leaves the pew and stands there staring at him. She wonders how long he’s been stood there listening to her talking to her dead friend. He takes a step towards her and holds out a bag. She looks down at it and realises that it is Whitney’s tote bag. She looks up at Vincent frowning.).
Kaia: For me?
(He nods and she slowly takes the bag. She looks inside and sees her walkman and the CD’s from the RV. There is also some clothes, they’re Whitney’s.).
Kaia: My music.
(She puts the bag over her shoulder.).
Kaia: Thank you.
(She thinks for a moment then wraps her arms around him. He stands there stiff as a board then he steps backwards. She frowns.).
Kaia: You don’t like hugs?
(He stares at her frowning.).
Kaia: Well...I’m gonna go and lie down. I feel quite tired. Maybe I’ll listen to some music.
(She smiles then leaves the church heading back up to the house.).
 (Kaia is lying in bed with her headphones in. It’s late evening and she’s gazing out of the window at the night sky watching the stars twinkling. She doesn’t hear Bo stomping into the room but she is made aware of his presence when he grabs her roughly and hauls her up before smacking her across the face. She lets out a cry as the walkman falls to the floor with a clatter and the CD flies out.).
Bo: The hell is this? Huh?
Kaia: What’s what?
Bo: This! I told you no music!
Kaia: What?
Bo: No music. That’s what I said. You disobedient little bitch!
Kaia: I don’t understand.
Bo: Really? I say no music and you sneak up to the old mill to get it anyway!
Kaia: What? I didn’t go up there. I went to the church that’s it. Vincent gave me Whitney’s bag with my music and some clothes.
Bo: He did what?
Kaia: He gave me this stuff. I just thought you’d told him to give it to me.
Bo: The fuck...
(Bo turns and stomps out of the room. Kaia gets up and follows him to Vincent’s bedroom. He kicks open the door and marches over to Vincent who gets up from his desk.).
Bo: The fuck you giving her shit for?
(Vincent just stands there.).
Bo: Huh? You dumb fuck! I didn’t say she could have anything! The fuck’s wrong with you?
(Bo smacks Vincent over the head and Vincent steps backwards.).
Kaia: Leave him alone.
Bo: Awww. What you two friends now?
Kaia: Just leave it. Why do you have to get so mad all the time? It’s just a walkman.
(Bo glares at Vincent.).
Bo: No more giving her gifts alright? She’s just a whore, she’ll be like the others soon.
(Kaia shudders.).
Bo: I don’t know what’s up with you lately. You trying to lose your virginity or something?
(Bo chuckles and turns for the door. Kaia steps back but Bo grabs her by the hair. She lets out a sob then remembers Whitney’s voice in her head. Fight. She brings her knee up into Bo’s groin. He lets out a grunt of pain and doubles over slightly. He punches her sending her sprawling backwards onto the landing. She pulls herself to her feet as Bo grabs her again. She reaches up and scratches his face making him yell.).
Bo: You little bitch!
(He knees her in the stomach making her double over gasping. He drags her down the hall and into his bedroom. Vincent hears the door slam shut then Kaia screaming. Vincent closes his bedroom door and sits back down at his desk.).
 (Kaia is in the bathroom looking in the mirror. Her body is a road map of bruises and she has a black eye. It’s slightly swollen too. She lets out a sob then leaves the bathroom wrapping her dressing gown around herself again. She is just about to go back into Bo’s room when she hears whining coming from down the hall. She walks to Vincent’s bedroom and hears scratching on the door. She opens the door and Vincent’s dog walks out. She turns and follows the dog down the stairs. It sits by the back door and she sighs.).
Kaia: You want to go out huh?
(She opens the door and the dog bounds outside. She follows it and stands there watching as it walks around sniffing the ground. Once the dog has done its business it trots back inside and she follows it closing the door behind her. She follows it back upstairs and into Vincent’s room. The dog lies down on the floor and she kneels down to stroke it. She suddenly hears a creak and looks up to see that Vincent has gotten out of bed. He hasn’t got his mask on and he is glaring at her. She smiles at him.).
Kaia: The dog needed to pee so I let him out. He was scratching at your door.
(She stands up and stares at him. He is wearing a pair of black jogging bottoms, his torso bare.).
Kaia: Well I should probably get back to bed. Don’t want another beating. Night Vincent.
(She turns and leaves the room closing the door behind her. She goes back to Bo’s bedroom and gets back into bed next to him. He fidgets and lets out a grunt but remains asleep. She curls up with her back to him and closes her eyes.).
 (Kaia is in the kitchen making coffee. It’s just gone midday and Bo has been absent from the house for the last three days. She wonders where he’s gone not that she’s complaining. It means she gets a reprieve however brief it may be. Lester is out again as always and she has no idea where Vincent is. His workshop perhaps. She thinks he actually sleeps down there sometimes. As she sits down with her coffee she wonders if her plan is working at all. She remembers Vincent putting his hands on Bo’s chest as if to try and stop him from beating her when she lost the baby. He drew her and painted her and he bought her the walkman and her CD’s along with more clothes. Perhaps she’s succeeding more than she thinks. She wonders what to do next, she has to be careful. A plan suddenly forms in her mind, she doesn’t like it and she isn’t sure if it will work but she has to try. Fight. Hm. Fat lot of good fighting did for her last time. Still she has to do something. She’s starting to think that she is going to die here, she’s even been having nightmares about it. With Lester and Bo out it seems this is the perfect time to try out her new idea. She just needs to find Vincent. She decides to drink her coffee and enjoy the rare moment of peace and quiet. Another idea suddenly occurs to her. She could run now. With Bo and Lester gone that only leaves Vincent and he’s probably in his workshop and wouldn’t even know she was gone. But then Bo or Lester might not be too far away, they might see her leave. Maybe they have set this up to see if she tries to run, she wouldn’t put it past them. She sighs debating on whether she should just get up and leave when she hears footsteps. Vincent appears in the doorway. There goes the idea of running. She smiles at him.).
Kaia: Coffee?
(He walks over to the kettle and makes himself a coffee before leaving the room and going upstairs. She finishes her coffee and goes upstairs. She walks into his room. He is sat at his desk leafing through sheets of paper. She sits down in the armchair in the corner. He has taken off his mask which has melted slightly again. He glances at her and she smiles.).
Kaia: Looks like it’s just me and you again.
(He looks back down at his desk and picks up a pencil.).
Kaia: You been working on another sculpture?
(She moves the armchair closer to the desk and he turns and looks at her frowning.).
Kaia: You know...I was wondering if you could draw something for me.
(He continues to stare at her.).
Kaia: Could you draw Whitney? Bo won’t let me have any of my photos and it would be nice to have a picture of her. She was a very good friend. She always knew what to say and she was smart and funny. I think you would have liked her if you’d gotten to know her. She saw the good in everyone. You don’t have to I just...
(She shrugs and looks down. She hears the rustle of paper and the scratch of a pencil. She looks up to see Vincent hunched over the paper drawing. His mouth is open slightly and his tongue suddenly pokes out a bit. She finds herself giggling. He turns and looks at her.).
Kaia: You look so cute when your concentrating.
(His expression doesn’t change. She decides if she’s going to do this she might as well go all the way with it.).
Kaia: You know...I had a dream about you last night.
(He’s turned his attention back to his drawing.).
Kaia: I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day I saw you getting out of the shower.
(His hand stills the pencil hovering over the page.).
Kaia: Um...In the dream last night...I was touching you. Your hair, your chest...I’ve found myself wondering lately what it would feel like to touch you. What your hair would feel like...Your skin...What you would feel like. You were touching me too. I know it’s kinda wrong...I sleep next to your brother but...I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to lay next to him. He’s mean and...He treats me like shit. He forces himself on me I don’t want it. It’s not like I’m in a relationship with him. It’s not wrong is it? Tell me it’s not wrong.
(He turns his head slowly and stares at her. She thinks he kinda looks suspicious. His eye is narrowed and his head is slightly tilted to one side. He might appear at times like he’s an idiot and perhaps a bit simple but he obviously isn’t. Perhaps he is suspicious of her intentions here. She decides to just go for it and see what happens. She leans forward and goes to kiss him. Her lips barely touch his when he jumps out of his chair and steps backwards. Now he is glaring at her. He looks frightening.).
Kaia: I...I’m sorry. I just thought...
(She gets up. He tilts his head to one side again.).
Kaia: You drew a picture of me and did a painting. You made me look beautiful. You gave me my music and some clothes. You’ve always been nice to me. You fixed me up after I lost the baby and I tried to kill myself. You took care of me. Your always watching me and Bo whenever we...I just thought maybe...You fancied me.
(She looks down.).
Kaia: Course you don’t. Sorry. Stupid.
(She feigns embarrassment.).
Kaia: I’ll just um...Go.
(She leaves the room hurriedly. She walks down the hall to Bo’s room and goes inside closing the door behind her. She sighs as she sinks to the floor. So much for that plan.).
11 notes · View notes
foldingfittedsheets · 3 months
Text
I’ve always had a bit of a baby face. It’s not the worst thing, but occasionally gets me into awkward situations. Like when I was 23 having a flight attendant ask me in a baby voice if this was my first time flying alone. I was tired and befuddled and eventually blurted out, “I’m in my 20’s?”
But going back to school has been pretty funny. My classmates are largely 18-20. And to a one, none of them clocked me as being in my thirties. The highest any of them guessed was 25 and even that was said with extreme skepticism.
After telling a teammate over lunch what my age was she spent the rest of the meal staring at me in shock and confusion, clearly deeply shaken that someone she’d known over a year was a decade older than she thought.
But my absolute favorite was a classmate sliding up to me in figure drawing in sophomore year and dramatically whispering, “I- I heard you’re old!!”
I looked at them mildly and asked, “How old did you hear I was?”
They lowered their voice even more, as if the number they were about to utter was so scandalous they needed to hide its entry into the world.
“I heard you were… thirty!”
“Yep.”
They slammed back into their chair so hard it skidded backwards and shifted into high volume to exclaim, “WHAT! You like like you just graduated high school!!!”
I was laughing by that point, “No I don’t! You look fresh out of high school! I look thirty but all the actors who play high schoolers on TV are thirty so you can’t tell the difference!”
2K notes · View notes
ffcrazy15 · 3 months
Text
Someone needs to do an analysis on the way the Kung Fu Panda movies use old-fashioned vs. modern language ("Panda we meet at last"/"Hey how's it going") and old-fashioned vs. modern settings (forbidden-city-esque palaces/modern-ish Chinese restaurant) to indicate class differences in their characters, and how those class differences create underlying tensions and misunderstandings.
883 notes · View notes
Text
i have a plan for punctuation day everyone! so here's what i want you all to do!
my goal for the day is to get punctuation trending. is this too ambitious? maybe, but i don't care. i want everyone to appreciate punctuation a little
what are some things i can do you ask? well let's look at some things i could think of:—
you can make a post with every punctuation on it (but try, and here's the hard part) to put some text around it and not just list them all out
you can make up a new punctuation mark! for inspiration i would look at the works of people like hervé bazin, martin k specktor, or other people who tried to invent new punctuation
you can make a post about your favorite punctuation mark and why you like it
you can post anything related to punctuation really, those were my ideas but feel free to. i dunno. dress up as an interrobang or make art or something. go wild
so everyone! mark your calendars! september twenty fourth is the day we get #punctuation trending!
484 notes · View notes
liesmyth · 6 months
Note
would you be able to give examples/explain more about how race only impacts gideon in the tlt-universe? not being facetious or condescending, genuinely asking. thank you!
Hi anon! If you mean my tags to this post, I wrote
#earth conception of race doesn't impact any character in the series except the canonically brown main antagonist
By which I mean my Worstie and main antagonist of the series, John Gaius (PhD).
I don’t think TLT as a series engages with race in any especially meaningful ways. It’s set in a post-Earth society with entirely different social norms, and there’s no concept of race and ethnicity within the population of the Nine Houses. Physical descriptions of the characters are scarce to say the least, and they rarely spell out the kind of features that suggest specific racial connotations, because the POV characters don’t seem to think it’s something worth remarking upon. iirc, it takes until halfway through HtN for the narrative to confirm that Harrow has brown skin.
[See also Tamsyn’s GtN characters description post. It quotes passages from the book, and you can see how minimal the descriptions are, and she repeats several times that her characters’ appearances are up to the readers’ interpretations. It just doesn’t seem to be a big concern of hers]
Then there’s John, who grew up in twenty-first-century New Zealand and IS explicitly Māori in a way that absolutely impacted his character arc. It's not A major theme of his Nona chapters, but it’s there if you read between the lines. The boarding school he went to, which IRL had a high percentage of low-income Māori students on scholarship. The depth of his climate anxiety, his uncompromising “Nobody left behind” stance before the cryo project was halted, and his fervent hatred of ‘the trillionaires’ afterwards... these are all informed to some extent by his background as an indigenous man imo, and so was the global reaction to his developing powers. The “We were going to put you fellas in jail, weren’t we?” the way his initial attempts at publications are all flat-out ignored by the scientific community and dismissed as culty gimmicky faith healing until he leans into it.
John being Māori is just one of the many pieces of his backstory, and far from the most impactful to what eventually went down, but my point remains that he is the ONLY character in TLT whose racial background 1) affects his story arc and 2) is relatable to the audience. Everyone else is ten thousand years removed from Earth, and I’m just not very interested in using racial identifiers when exploring these characters and their dynamics, because the characters themselves don’t care and neither does the narrative.
354 notes · View notes
faux-ecrivain · 4 months
Text
Yan Twins x gn reader
(Names are Leslie and Francis) (How Leslie Views You) Part One (Twenty Fourth Official Post)
———————————————————— Francis and Leslie are twin brothers, Francis being the eldest and Leslie being the youngest. Both boys were quite close, but their parents always believed that they should be closer. This often caused a rift between the two kids, it made their relationship strained. Francis agreed with their parents, whereas Leslie believed that he and Francis were close enough. In fact, Leslie felt that he and his brother were too close and needed some distance. His brother caused a ruckus whenever Leslie mentioned this and eventually Leslie learned to be quiet about his desires, and needs. However, he could not be quiet about you, especially not when there was always the looming threat of losing you. Leslie first saw you at a museum, you didn’t seem particularly fascinated with anything on display, and you weren’t exactly memorable. You didn’t stand out, you actually blended in, and the only reason he noticed you was because his brother pointed you out. (Something about your atrocious fashion sense) Of course, Leslie didn’t share his brother’s opinion of you and thought that your outfit was suitable considering the occasion. The occasion being a reveal of the newest addition to the museum, most had chosen to dress formally, and you were no exception. Regardless, aside from your outfit, there was nothing else that caught his attention. The only reason he ever became attracted to you is because of your personality, whilst you appear apathetic and bored on the outside, you actually have quite an interesting view on the world. Anytime he talked to you, he often found him questioning his very reality, you were smart and wise (so wise sometimes it was difficult to believe that you were only 27), and you didn’t like Francis. Which was quite a surprise because everyone he knows loves Francis and it’s a relief to meet someone that despises him. Hence why he was so fixated on you, you were different. Your opinions are different, Your views are strange, especially the way you dress, everything about you was so different from those that surround him. He liked it and he needed something different in his life, so naturally he was drawn to you and did what he could to keep you a secret from Francis. Of course, that didn’t last very long, because Francis knows everything and if he doesn’t know something he’ll find out.
————————————————————
(This one is short, it’s just Part one and it’s a bit contradictory. I’ll edit it later, I was gonna make it longer, but I’m tired, distracted and my brain is not being creative right now. So, enjoy this short fanfic and feel free to comment, reblog and like!)
(Also the names might seem a tad strange, but I know Leslie was pretty popular in the 50s and Francis was chosen because of Frank from Blue Bloods.)
188 notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 5 months
Text
you either die a geto enjoyer or live long enough to see yourself become a gojo stan. sigh.
265 notes · View notes
Text
i should have loved you better vs i wanted to better brother better son
146 notes · View notes
tv-moments · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Your Honor
Season 2, “Part Twenty”
Director: Rosemary Rodriguez
DoP: Anette Haellmigk
1 note · View note
fishnets-fingers · 2 years
Text
⭐️Out Of Context⭐️
Six Months - Part Twenty
Here are five out of context lines/ exchanges from part twenty. It’s coming out real soon. Keep guessing away until then.
....
“Why are you in my seat?” Layla asks Harry, when she makes her way over to his Range Rover.
“Oh, so this is your seat now, is it?” He asks, with a smirk.
....
Cocky little shit, she thinks.
“And did the pictures have the desired effect?” He asks, huskily.
....
“சித்தப்பா (uncle)!” She yells, smacking her palm on the now butter paper marble countertop, demanding his attention. 
“What?” He distractedly says, looking up for his phone.
....
If only she knew that he’s seen me in much less, she thinks,  smirking. 
“Pro tip,” Vasanth tells Harry. “Stay away from her till the ceremony ends. She’s psychotic.”
....
“Oh shut up, you goober,” she smiles, as he lies down next to her.
“Please! I saw the way you were undressing me with your eyes when you were on your call with your family.”
....
MASTERPOST
@0oolookitsme @sunandherflores
6 notes · View notes
exaltior-a · 1 year
Text
Dirkjake kidfic where there's no pregnancy or ectobiology Jake just has a very vivid dream of having a baby with Dirk and via hope magic bs they wake up with a new nursery room in their house with a baby in it. Neither of them knows how to deal with it. They don't tell their friends for weeks. Show up to a small gathering with a baby strapped to Jake's chest and all hell breaks loose.
550 notes · View notes
annmarcus63 · 5 months
Text
It's a pleasant night. His belly is full, his feet throbbing after dancing all over the tavern like he was the eighteen-year-old bard he used to be. He's no longer that foolish child, not after everything. The only thing left from the eighteen-year-old Jaskier is Geralt. Jaskier smiles at the thought. Speaking of a certain witcher, he's sitting on the chair by the window, the light from the fire coloring his side with an auspicious orange hue. He’s so handsome. 
It's been a while since the last time he traveled with Geralt, quite a while since the last time they were traveling to a big town, Oxenfurt specifically. That's the reason he feels so content, lightheaded in the best of ways and a little bit excited. You see, he's received a letter from the university. He will be named Artist of the Decade in a major award (obviously) as part of the Oxenfurt Music and Arts festival. Artist of the decade, him, Jaskier. Valdo Marx shited in his pants when the results were published, Jaskier imagined.
"I hope he'll be there! I want to see his cherry plump face when I'm called to the stage. ‘Vulgar art’ he said, he called me untalented, the bastard" The bard is beginning to remove his clothes before going to bed, he's undoing the laces of his boots while talking like eighteen-year-old Jaskier used to. "I'm sure he'll be there. That snake. There was a time he told everyone at the music guild that the lyrics of my song were false, that you weren't even my friend!” 
"Most of the lyrics aren’t exactly true" says Geralt in the background, Jaskier ignores him. 
"Oh oh oh I want to see his face when he sees you there"
“Jaskier” Geralt calls
"Take that mister 'i'm better than you' "
“Jaskier” Geralt calls 
"Yes, darling?" Answers Jaskier with fond exasperation. He's having a big monologue here and that's the moment Geralt decides he wants to add to the conversation. He's been quiet lately. 
"I'm not going" Jaskier feels a bold blow on the center of his chest. His heart hunching on itself at registering those words. He understands perfectly well but decides to play dumb anyway. "Where, darling?" and apparently Geralt wants to play dumb too because he stays silent. 
"Can I ask why?" Jaskier crosses his arms in front of his chest, already defensive and Geralt is there, still sitting, with a somber expression. This is going to end in an argument, both of them can tell.
"I can't" 
"Alright..." Geralt hates being prompted to talk when the conversation is tense, but Jaskier can help it, and doesn't want to help him.
"I'm sorry" at least here he looks remorseful. 
"No, no, Geralt. You promised!" 
"I'm sorry, something has come up..." Jaskier takes two steps forward and Geralt stands raising his hands in a placating manner. 
"What has come up...?" And then Jaskier remembers, the black speck against the window in the middle of the night a week ago. "Does this have something to do with that raven?" Geralt growls, sometimes he forgets his bard used to be a Redanian spy. “Is it because of Yennefer?”
"I'm sorry" Geralt nods, giving the truth. "Is important" 
"This is important too!" 
And now the bard is shouting at Geralt, he hates doing that, but the witcher is not helping either.
“It’s an award, you have plenty” 
“It’s NOT an award, is THE award” 
They are standing in front of the other, speaking to the other’s face, up this close Jaskier can see the pattern of tiny scars all over Geralt's face. The bard takes a couple of calming breaths, trying to keep his temper. He hates arguing with the witcher. "Can't she wait?" he asks, but Geralt only denies with his head, already so sure "What is it about?" the witcher doesn't reply "You don't even know!" There goes Jaskier temper again, the bard throws his arms in the air, exasperated and frustrated. This is important to him, and Geralt knew it and it pains him to realize that the witcher would so easily push him aside. A if Jaskier achievements aren't a thing to cherish and celebrate, as if... he's not important. "She didn't tell, she said It's important" Says Geralt followed by a heavy sigh indicating that he thinks  Jaskier is being childish.
"This is important to me, Geralt - "
" - I know..."
" I asked you to come last year, remember? I told you that I might win the award and you promised you’ll come! I know you don't like big cities but..."
“-I’m sorry” And that's it. Jaskier can feel his heart turning into dust and falling heavily to the pit of his stomach. It's not the same as the mountain, but it feels similar in a way. Jaskier is realizing just how much he means to Geralt. Again. Jaskier holds Geralt's eyes from below, at least the witcher looks ashamed. 
And then after a long, resigned sigh the bard murmurs "Whatever" It keeps happening, repeatedly, suddenly and inexplicably he keeps getting hurt with by his own naivety by thinking that someday Geralt would choose him, not over Yennefer, Ciri or the other witchers. Just choose him because he wants to. Because it's fair, because Jaskier wants him to be there. 
He likes Yennefer now, he even catches himself thinking of her with love. The kind of love you have for the one that makes your true love happy. But he also knows that she can fend for herself and that it is possible for Geralt to wait at least a day before responding to her siren song. She gets to have him forever, why does Jaskier can't have him only for a fucking day? And now he's being pitiful, and he hates himself a little bit for that.
Maybe he's overreacting, maybe it's not that important… but it is! He wants Geralt to be there, to share the award with him. But at the end it's not Geralt's fault, he'll not resent the witcher for having priorities, a family to take care of which includes Yennefer and the others but not him. Maybe it's time for Jaskier to find his own. He has already spent enough effort in becoming part of Geralt. Jaskier goes to search his travel bag for his notebook, he needs to rework on his acceptance speech. 
"I'll gather we'll be parting ways at the crossroads tomorrow?" Jaskier turns around briefly, wanting to see the witcher’s expression, to be suddenly confronted with an uncomfortable and unexpected feeling at reading on Geralt's face, a lot more than surely the witcher wants to convey. Shame, uncertainty, fear of not knowing what went wrong and how to prevent it from getting worse. And Jaskier feels sympathy, despite everything that has happened, what is happening, Geralt tries, on his own, albeit slow way.
"Yeah" 
"Good"
Geralt starts fidgeting on the same spot from before, when Jaskier decides he has had enough and turns. The witcher hasn't moved an inch, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, the bard can tell. But it won’t come to that. Not anymore. Enough of this, enough of scraps. 
"I'm going out, don't wait for me" Jaskier murmurs  when he's at the door. Geralt calls for him, but Jaskier pretends to have not heard. 
In the morning Geralt arrives at the stables to find Jaskier already waiting for him by Roach. They travel side by side all morning, Jaskier holding his notebook in front of his face, he seems to be reading and rereading the speech, which is weird because he said he's already memorized it. They haven't spoken much, and Geralt hates it. He should be saying something, anything! Something along the lines of "I'll go with you" but Yenn... what if? 
Jaskier stops and turns around to face him from below, one hand scratching Roach's neck. They are at the crossroads; it's almost noon and Geralt doesn't know what to say. Their gazes lock for a long time, the wind singing softly around them, the leaves of the trees falling like orange rain. It's so calm. "Take care, Geralt"  Jaskier says in the softest of voices and turns right. Geralt watches marching away, wondering why it feels like a goodbye.
It's funny how loneliness comes in the strangest of forms. Surrounded by dozens of people shouting his name from the square in front of the stage. Wasn't this what you wanted? his mind supplies unhelpfully. Yes, he did want this, the love and admiration of the masses. He is, after all, the artist of the decade. But, well, in retrospect he was young with little knowledge of life. It's only natural that your aspirations may change through the years. Don't get him wrong, older Jaskier wants the same as younger Jaskier, but now, he understands that the love of the masses can't fill the void of being unloved and unwanted by people close to him, or people he thought were close to him. So, he accepts the award with the biggest smile on his repertoire, mocks Valdo Marx and goes to the tavern with a bunch of scholars like him. He drinks, he laughs, he sings a lot of his songs, flirts and plays gwent.  And with every sip of wine and ale he peels a little bit of his sorrow, his wounded self-esteem, his beaten heart, and self-pity. He wished Geralt was here, with him, but he's not here, so be it. Enough of wanting, enough of this ever-present loneliness. He's resolute. He'll find a place to call home, and he won't resent Geralt. Ok maybe a little. 
The celebration has reached the part where everyone is drunk enough to dance and sing at the top of their lungs. Jaskier is standing on top of a table surrounded by the taverns, he's leading the song. He's sweating all over, his hair a brown wet mess. He's happy. When the front door swings open, it's Geralt. The witcher removes his hood and instantly locks eyes with the bard. Like a hunter finding his prey. Jaskier stops singing, right there and then, hopefully no one notices because the song continues its course. 
No, no, it's too late. Jaskier thinks. I've already made up my mind. The bard climbs down from the table and pushes through the crowd. His mind it's a volatile compass, pointing at his resolution and to Geralt. It tries to decide how to proceed. It tries to decide which path will hurt more or less. 
"What are you doing here?" Jaskier is proud of his steady voice. Not even the ale could break him.
"I thought I'd make it on time, ''Geralt replies , his eyes trying to find Jaskier's, but the bard is looking at a spot on the witcher's shoulder. 
"You're late" In that moment the blue eyes look up to meet yellow ones, defying Geralt to name the issue. To name the hurt on Jaskier’s eyes the night before. To name the emotion that is now on the bard's eyes.
They both know this isn't about the ceremony, not anymore.
"I'm here now" Geralt says heavily and Jaskier laughs cause it's funny really. i'm here now so it must be enough. 
And this is the thing, he forgave Geralt many times thanks to sporadic care and attention that would be forgotten later. His heart is screaming within his chest, the poor thing wants to take Geralt back. But no, Jaskier won't listen to it anymore. 
"And you are late" 
A girl walks past them holding a tray of beers, Jaskier takes one and drinks half of it in one go.
Geralt watches him, anxiety sewing itself on his veins. He can feel that is it. He fucked up, again, but this time for good.
"I thought Yen’s message was important" Jaskier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, cursing internally, his tongue loosened by the alcohol. He sounds bitter and resentful. He hates it.
"It is, but this is too" and oh the witcher is trying but instead of being charmed Jaskier gets angry.
"Oh, now it's important, I see. Well, maybe if you have arrived on time for the actual ceremony..."
“…I tried”
"Maybe it wouldn't be too fucking late" A young couple turn to look at them. Feeling embarrassed, Jaskier lowers his voice and continues. "I appreciate the effort, Geralt, but it is an unnecessary one. I’m sorry my friend” says Jaskier, reaching out to place a hand on the Witcher’s muscular arm, trying to convey comradery, an olive branch if you will, for Geralt to take and be gone without blame. If Jaskier dared to look at Geralt's face one more time, he would find sadness, grief, shame, and fear. Every emotion that the witcher always tried to conceal from everyone, especially Jaskier.�� “There's an open bar, enjoy the celebration. Rest. I'm going to sleep" In that instant Jaskier's heart broke even more. Oh, how he wanted this man, how he longs for him, decades on end. Even in his resolution he still wants him. 
He needs to rest too. He's not young anymore, his feet hurt, and his thighs are trembling from the exertion. So, he turns around up the stairs to his room, closes the door behind and with clothes and all, he gets into bed and sleeps like death.
---
I'm posting this fic again because I just realized that I never posted the ending. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.
168 notes · View notes
istayawakereading · 2 months
Text
I don’t know if it’s just me reading into things, but the way Ruben reacted to Wanda asking about Lucy Frostblade makes me feel like he didn’t want to see her dead. He comes across as desperate for information not to gain insight into what the world knows about her death, but more so to actually just have knowledge of what happened.
Like it hasn’t been confirmed that the rat grinders killed her, but that’s been my belief so far. BUT what if it was just Bitchface Copperkettle who killed Lucy, and she somehow blackmailed or coerced the rest of the party into keeping quiet about it, and that’s why Ruben wants to know what actually happened? Because it was just Copperfuck working alone who murdered Lucy, and so none of the other party members know exactly what happened, but they know to keep quiet to stay out of trouble with Kipperpettle.
The next episode preview with Ruben having blood just SEEPING from his mouth also makes me think that is somehow Lilyshit Kettlekippy’s fault, and it might be a consequence of him maybe spilling info??
127 notes · View notes