#‹ julian bridges ﹕ musings ›

[attitvdes]

tag dump 4.0

[saltcrs]

INTRODUCING.

.*･｡ﾟ ━ ( michael b. jordan / cis man / he/him ) i think i just saw BASTIAN 'BAS' SALTERS on the subway. the 37 year old PART TIME MSG ANALYST & HOBBYIST has been living on cornelia street for THREE YEARS. bas' friends know him to be steadfast, driven, & focused , but he has a reputation on cornelia street for being reticent, soft-spoken, & obsessive . when i see bas , i can’t help but think of notebooks filled with neat slanted writing, slowly sipping an espresso in the sunlight, and soft piano in the early morning hours ! in fact , i sometimes i think i hear 'TIS THE DAMN SEASON (muse b) when he walks by !

MUSE B in 'TIS THE DAMN SEASON.

they were the quintessential ‘ will they, won’t they? ’ pair that everyone always knew were going to work out. plans of forever and hushed ‘ i love yous ’ rested on the tips of their tongue, but dreams get bigger and town gets smaller, and time does what time always does. they built big lives apart. JULIAN ( @julicn ) hit the west coast while BAS found a life in new york city , now , life has brought them to the same city, on the same street, and the road not taken looks real good right now.

HIGHLIGHTS.

now-retired nhler ( lifer-rangers defenseman ), now residing on cornelia street and figuring out the next chapter of his life ; currently a part-time analyst with msg networks, reporting on rangers games ; works with youth hockey programs regularly ; otherwise dabbles in a variety of hobbies ( writing, piano, baking ) as well as occasionally taking on unpaid handyman type tasks ; characterized first and foremost by the intensity he approached any task or thing he loves ; all or nothing ; a reassuring presence, when he speaks it's often thoughtful and eloquent.

ABOUT.

— TARRYTOWN, NEW YORK : 25 miles north of new york city, a major stop on the hudson commuter line into the city, one city on the ends of the tappen zee bridge, population just shy of twelve thousand, home to the new york rangers' practice facility . . . and home to bastian james salters. bas was born in michigan though he did not stay there long, barely remembering his first grade days interrupted by a move east, spurred on by a promotion for his mother in her architecture firm. the city had proven too expensive, and the allure of a big backyard had been enough for them to choose the little suburb instead.

— maybe bas still would have grown his love for hockey in snowy michigan too, but it was the move that had his parents signing him up for various youth sports in an attempt to both feed his need for constant movement and to help him make friends. even at seven, bas took it all in stride : football, baseball, soccer, basketball, and hockey — and it was hockey that would eventually come to dictate his life.

— even as a child bas had an unchildlike obsession with everything he did. he fell in love with hockey : the ice, the speed, the feeling when you're skating. even if hockey did not always love him back. it was an expensive sport, and though the salters saved money by not living in the city, they still struggled at times to make ends meet. not as much as most, but bas learned early on that he was going to have to provide his own financial support for his dreams — his parents were supportive, even if they had tried to gently persuade him toward a more certain career path than nhler.

— a big moment for him was being recruited to play college D1 hockey at boston university. maybe he wasn't getting the full ride some of his teammates were, but bas was still proud of the step that it meant. he supplemented the balance of his tuition with additional scholarships and a few loans, never one to back down from anything. that following summer he received another surprise : getting drafted to the rangers, the hometown team ( in the third round, but still significant ).

— bas played out his four full years at BU, earning his degree in communications at the same time. leading up to graduation ( class of 2008 ), in fact plaguing much of his senior year, was a looming crossroads choice : sign with the rangers to follow a ( still significant long shot ) dream of a lifetime, or to hang up his skates against professional hockey to follow his second love and pursue building a different career. he chose hockey.

— he spend two and a half years playing for the rangers' ahl affiliate, the hartford wolfpack, before finally getting his nhl debut at age 24. that marked what would becoming his career-long time with the blueshirts, 11 full seasons in all, finally coming to an end with the 2021-22 season.

— it was a tough choice to end his professional career, but listening to his body, a serious of head injuries, and a few other factors lead him to hang up the skates. this last 1+ year has been his first year without the schedule and rhythm of the nhl in quite some time and in some ways, he feels like he's trying to find his way again.

PRESENT DAY.

— bas has lived in a townhouse on cornelia street for about three years, though he's lived in the city since 2010. the move to cornelia street was mostly motivated after there was a fire in the store he lived over, leading to a significant amount of smoke damage. it just seemed easier to move and he wasn't terribly attached to the place anywhere. for this first year of residence, he was gone for long stretches during the season given the needs of said season, but he's developed stronger relationships with those on the street in the past year or so !!

— he's not one to really flaunt the small degree of fame he might be entitled to. he's had to work hard for every inch he gained and the process has kept him exceedingly humble. to many, he's just a neighbor, unless any of them happen to recognize him from his hockey endeavors.

— since his retirement a year and a half ago, bas has bounced between a large number of things to fill his time, unsure of where his post-retirement will take him. a love of hockey still permeates his entire being; however, and so when msg networks came calling, offering him a part-time analyst position, bas jumped at the opportunity to stay engaged and close to the team. now, you can see him every few rangers msg broadcasts in the pre, post, and intermission shows. he is also very engaged with various youth hockey organizations in the city ( relationships built during his active career, and now able to dedicate even more time to them ), especially those that work with black, lgbtq+, and other under-served/marginalized communities.

— he's also been picking up various hobbies as they interest him that he didn't necessarily have time to pursue : writing, reading, piano, baking, and a great love for coffee ( well, that last one he was able to maintain during his professional career ). and well... anything that catches his eye that seems interesting.

— while he hardly... advertises his handyman services, bas does have a very good ability for handyman type jobs, and he's quick to offer to help. and just as quick to turn down any compensation for said work. a dripping faucet ?? drafty window ?? especially in those months when labor might be weeks off, he's more than happy to help !!

— his townhouse is a bit of a mishmash of furniture, no particular style except for cozy. lots of warm tones. he does keep it well maintained and neat; however, as he cannot function in messy spaces.

— he has his own little gym in his townhouse where he can work out in peace, and while he doesn't maintain quite the same physique he did while he played, he's certainly in very good shape still. in fair weather months, you can often see him going for runs in central park ( and then promptly buying a smoothie when he's finished ).

— bas tries to keep a good schedule of his days, though his commitments are varying ( though that is not so different from his life as a player either and in a way was a little comforting ). he's had little trouble filling his days, though routine remains a bit elusive as does his long term plan. but that's okay.

— frequents cafes, animal shelters, various rinks, central park, walks in the city, trying out new foods but also loves a nearby dumpling place like no tomorrow.

PERSONALITY.

+ steadfast, driven, & focused - reticent, soft-spoken, & obsessive

— bas has always been characterized first and foremost by the intensity he approached any task or thing he loved with. always all or nothing. it is a trait to endears some and intimidates others. with time and age, bas' approachability has improved drastically.

— his voice is always softer than people expect, though he speaks with an honest, eloquent tone ; thoughtful in what he says, in a way that when he played, made people listen when he spoke because he wasted so few words.

— a bit of a reassuring presence : strong without needed to really flaunt it. reliable in tough situations and rarely one to lose his temper. has a tendency to approach any situation head-on, often skipping right to the problem solving stage rather than any of the emotional onsets that should've come first.

— deeply observant and able to connect dots easily : another thing that has come in handy with his part time msg analyst position, and one that has prompted some to question if he's ever thought of going into coaching in his post-career.

— passionate about his stances when he does have them. they are often well-argued, heavily supported, and hard to refute. he attacks arguments with logic and in general, does not really busy himself with emotional outbursts.

— despite this, does think he is very in tune with his emotions. his logical and head-on approaches have little to do with tamping down his feelings, but an ability to recognize them and deal with them quickly. he's getting far too old to deal with roundabout nature of things.

MISC.

— played defense : a very physical and classic ' stay at home ' style. reliable, integral to the powerplay, hard to get past, delivered heavy and solid hits, a good passer to initiate break outs.

— bas worked odd jobs and ends as soon as he was able to secure them, every penny going toward new hockey gear. he picked up a rather large variety of skills in those days, something that would come in clutch later — meaning he rarely ever calls a handyman.

— has a very expensive espresso machine.

— lactose intolerant

— bas' kitchen skills are a little less well-oiled than his coffee making skills, but he's more than adequate at it. he enjoys cooking, especially when someone is in the kitchen to keep him company and with the time he seemingly has on his hands now, branching out into more complicated recipes seems like a good idea.

— baking is also something he's been pursuing a bit more furiously. interested in making delicious dairy-free and vegan recipes ( not vegan himself, but knows those allergic to eggs ).

— does not currently have a dog, but will probably get around to adopting one soon. definitely frequents and volunteers at nearby animal shelters.

— never won the cup. closest he came was 2014 cup finals against the kings. he attended julian's cup party that summer though.

APPEARANCE.

— 6'1", 213 lbs — often sporting stubble, hair seesaws between a buzz cut and then being grown out and braided. it really depends on his mood. currently, a buzz cut. — wardrobe : casual but well-fitting and simple, elegant clothing. a lot of muted and dark colors. always well put-together street style. — far too many scars to explain — modifications : piercings in both ears, no tattoos — demeanor : often comes across serious and thoughtful, very still in his poise but still comes across prepared for movement than truly relaxed, not precious with his smiles, a comfortable presence — quirks : furrowing his brow, licking his lips, tapping his foot to the beat of music

OOC.

hi everyone !! i'm ollie ( 24, est, they/them ). i'm super excited to write with you all 💕

[walkingstackofbooks]

The Muses are finickety beings... I've now written a bridge that I can't actually record unless my editing skills drastically improve, because of course being a duet I've had to make Julian and Kira sing across each other and I'm just one personnnnn

All the ruin, All the ruin, All around, All around, Makes me think there's great adventure to be found... Reminds me of all that we lost And here I stand. But here I stand. I wanted freedom; now I hold it in my hands.

Anyway now to make a final chorus where they do more of that maybe because it sounds fun in my head even if it's not irl 😅

Music has captured my mind once again and I'm back on my songwriting bs :D This time it's turning out to be a Julian & Kira first-meeting duet, but I've only got these choruses so far so we'll see where it goooes...

KIRA: All this time I've had to fight for what I need, Snatching life from scarcity, There was no other way to be. On your precious Earth there's no struggle to survive - How can you know what it means to be alive? 

JULIAN: All my life I've had to hide what I can do, Wear a mask you can't see through, Let the world decide what's true. Balanced on the edge of a devastating fall - If you knew the real me you'd hate me more.

If you want to listen, here's how it goes (for now!)

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

I have no idea what this is!! 1k words of post-everything Yen & Jask under the cut.

Warnings for mentions of past self-harm.

She finds him perched on the ruins of the high stone bridge beyond the walls of Kaer Morhen. His legs dangle from the collapsed brickwork, his hair and the tails of his coat fluttering in the breeze.

He looks like he could just— slide away, and be lost to the wind. Like if he slipped, he’d catch the air and fly, not fall—

But he would fall, if he was to slip. Purple and red and gold tangled and broken against the snow.

She sits beside him, letting her feet hang beside his.

“Witch,” he says, softly.

“Bard.”

They sit in silence for a moment.

“So,” Jaskier says finally, his breath fogging the air, “Did you and Geralt work it all ou—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He snaps his mouth shut. “Right.”

The wind whistles around them, through the broken battlements. Inside the keep, Yennefer can hear the sound of the remaining witchers sorting through the debris of their keep; removing the dead.

“How are—” Jaskier starts. He gestures at her wrists. “Are they—”

Yen pulls her sleeves up. The evidence of her desperate act to save Ciri has now vanished, but the scars from her youth in Aretuza remain.

“Gone,” she says, simply.

“But—” He glances at the marks, frowning.

“Old,” she says, cutting off as she rolls her sleeves back down. “Very old.”

“Oh.” He looks away. “Sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Yen shakes her head with a wry smile. “Like I said, they’re old. I don’t need your pity for something that happened before you were born.”

Jaskier hesitates. He looks away, out at the swirling snow.

“Not pity,” he says, eventually. “I understand.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but his uncharacteristic silence speaks for itself. She nods, just once, and joins him in peering out at the blighted landscape ahead of them.

“So where—”

“Yen—”

They speak over each other, their voices cutting through the wind. He stops, and looks at her, encouraging her to continue. After a beat, she does.

“Where will you be heading now?” She says. “Or will you stay?”

Jaskier gives her that same grin he does so often. It twists his face; it does not reach his eyes.

“I’d actually been wondering…”

Yen purses her lips. Is he going to ask to stay? Part of her wants him to, so she can say no.

Part of her wants him to, so she can say yes.

“Now you’ve got your chaos back,” he says, carefully, “you can create portals again. Right?”

“I can.”

“Can you… get me out of here?”

Oh. Yen’s hands press against the snow-covered stone, the thick flakes bunching between her fingers.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

“You’ll need to be a little more precise than that, unless you want me to dump you in a lake.”

Jaskier shrugs, as if to say a lake would be preferable to here.

“I could send you to Cintra,” she says. “Or Oxenfurt. Or—” she pauses. “Or home. Lettenhove?”

Now he truly does look at her. “You know.”

“I did a little digging. Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Hah.” He laughs, but it's hollow. “No. Not there. Just…” he sighs. His hair falls into his eyes, and he makes no attempts to move it. “I don’t belong here, Yen. I’ve no chaos. I’ve no powers, or skills. I’ve not even got a fucking—” his voice cracks, for the first time since arriving in Kaer Morhen. “I’ve not even got a fucking lute.”

Yen remembers what he’d said to her, when they’d assumed they’d never see each other again. About his muse, and his one skill��and what would happen if he lost it.

“You can buy a new lute, Jaskier.”

He shakes his head. “I can. But I’m not sure I will.”

“So… where will you go? Novigrad? Just be—” she can’t quite bring herself to say it with a straight face. “Normal?”

When he looks at her again, he wears a matching expression of amusement. “I’m not sure I know how.”

“No,” she agrees. “I can’t quite picture it, somehow.”

Snow swirls around them. A storm, it seems, is heading down from the mountain top. After a few minutes, Jaskier rises to his feet. He reaches his hand out towards her. Yen takes it, and allows him to pull her up beside him.

“I’m not made for this,” he says, looking not at her, but past her, at the space above her shoulder. “None of this. Can't you just— send me away? Somewhere else?"

Yen watches him. She knows there are other worlds out there. Other places. She’s seen the worst of them now; she has no desire to see another.

“It doesn’t work like that,” she says.

“No?” Jaskier chuckles, sadly. “Shame. Well I’ll just… I’ll just slide down this mountain, too.”

He turns to leave, boots crunching in the fresh snow.

“Jaskier—”

Yen speaks before she realises what she’s doing. Jaskier pauses. He turns, and snow clings to his hair.

“You surely don’t intend to leave me alone in this den of arseholes and unwashed bastards?”

An eyebrow raises. Something like a smile flicks briefly across his face.

“Those are strong complaints coming from a woman who was living in a sewer before she found me.”

“Hiding in a sewer.” Yen steps forwards till they’re boot-to-boot. “I’m not sure Lambert has bathed since last winter.”

Jaskier’s expression cracks. “You could scrape the grime off with a fingernail.”

“You’d be lucky if it was just grime.”

Jaskier grins. “You know you don’t have to stay,” he says.

She thinks of Ciri. “You know I do.”

He straightens his lapels. He sets his shoulders.

“Well,” he says, as if concluding a drawn-out argument. “I suppose— these are new boots. The grip is shocking.”

“Is that so?”

“And frankly I’ve no desire to get eaten by some ravenous creature while half-buried in a snowdrift.”

“Sounds fair.”

“So… I suppose I can stay.” He looks up at the turbulent sky. “Until I decide where to go. And then you—” he taps at her shoulder “—Can whisk up one of your portals and get me the fuck out of here.”

“Sure,” she says. “Or I can portal you into a lake. The offer still stands.”

Jaskier glances over his shoulder. The gates of the keep are opening; Geralt stands between the wooden doors. He looks at them before quickly turning away.

Jaskier turns back, lips tight.

“I’ll think about it”

[wordsmithcreations]

What canon muses do you have?

Agents Of Shield

• Grant Ward

• Deke Shaw

Angel

• Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Being Human UK

• John Mitchell

Bones

• Vincent Nigel-Murray

• Lance Sweets

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

• Greg Sanders

Cyberpunk 2077

• Johnny Silverhand

Death Stranding

• Higgs Monaghan

• Sam Bridges

Detroit Become Human

• Connor

Doctor Who

• Tenth Doctor

Dollhouse

• Topher Brink

Dragon Age

• Alistair Theirin

Dragon Age 2

• Anders

Fallout 4

• Danse

Firefly

• Jayne Cobb

Game Of Thrones

• Jon Snow

Loki

• Loki Laufeyson

Lucifer

• Lucifer Morningstar

• Chloe Decker

Mass Effect

• Kaidan Alenko

• Garrus Vakarian

Mob Psycho 100

• Reigen Arataka

• Serizawa Katsuya

Preacher

• Proinsias Cassidy

Quantum Break

• Jack Joyce

Red Dead 2

• Arthur Morgan

Shadow And Bone

• Aleksander Morozova

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

• Julian Bashir

Star Trek: Picard

• Cristobal Rios

Star Trek: The Next Generation

• Data

Stardew Valley

• Shane

Supernatural

• Castiel

• Mick Davies

Sword Art Online

• Ryotaro Tsuboi “Klein”

The Boys

• Jack Wilson “Lamplighter”

• Billy Butcher

The Elder Scrolls: Online

• Fennorian

The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

• Bishop

The Falcon And The Winter Soldier

• James Buchanan Barnes

The Following

• Mike Weston

The Originals

• Elijah Mikaelson

• Niklaus Mikaelson

The Orville

• Gordon Malloy

The Walking Dead

• Shane Walsh

• Daryl Dixon

Torchwood

• Owen Harper

• Ianto Jones

Trigun

• Vash The Stampede

Uncharted

• Samuel Drake

Westworld

• Logan Delos

• Hector Escaton

• Lee Sizemore

• Caleb Nichols

What We Do In The Shadows

• Nandor

X-Men Movies

• Logan

• Bobby Drake

You

• Joe Goldberg

[teeth-farie]

Strained Eyes In The Candlelight

Julian/Named Apprentice(GN)

Notes: nonbinary apprentice, named apprentice, pre-plague setting, face sitting, oral, dirty talk, handjobs, 3.8k wordcount

Taglist:

@bluhhhdee (if you don’t want to be tagged in this one anymore let me know!)

The sound of scratching quills and murmured hums are the only white noise in the stuffy chamber, something at least to keep the ringing of silence out of Salem’s ears. They flick through the large, tattered book silently, eyebrows furrowing as they read. Salem remembers reading constantly as a child, yet now it seems like a chore to do. Perhaps it’s the looming threat of death hanging over everyone’s shoulders. Possibilities, possibilities. Dr. Devorak is hunched over his desk, back rounded as he writes quickly, occasionally pinching the bridge of his nose and smearing faded ink from his fingertips onto his skin, unbeknownst to him. Salem closes the book with a sigh and pushes their glasses back up their nose. They’ve gathered all the information they can tonight. They want to start trying magic alongside medical treatments, though they know that Dr. Devorak would be opposed to the idea. “Doctor, our shifts ended.” Salem announces, gesturing to the small clock ticking away.

“Hm? Oh, right.” He hums, though he still stays where he is, never looking up from his work.

“Doctor, did you hear me?”

“Certainly, do what you need to do.”

Salem huffs, taking the few strides the room allows and waving their hand in front of his face. Dr. Devorak jumps up then, a scowl on his lips. “Salem-!”

“You need a break.” Salem cuts him off, hands planted on their hips. Dr. Devorak stares, unwavering, then gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s much to do, I can’t stop now.” He refuses, going to dip his quill back into the jar of ink. “If you’re too tired you’ll mess up. Do you really wish to repeat your work?” Salem quips, gently laying a hand on his wrist, halting his movements.

“I’m not tired—besides, the plague won’t cure itself.”

Time for another approach. Salem rounds back behind him, hands gripping tight on the back of his chair. “What are you—ack!”

Salem pulls and tugs Dr. Devorak from his spot at the desk, scooting him back while still seated in the chair. If one thing’s for sure, Salem is a lot stronger then they let on. “If I have to, I will make you.”

That certainly gets his attention, sitting stiff as a rod in the seat he was just pulled from his desk in, now acutely aware of the situation. Perhaps he was a little too aware—a heat rising to his face. Was it that easy to tug him around? “And how will you make me?” He ponders, looking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Salem.

They can see the bright flush on his face, the lazy grin stretching his lips and they start to think that their actions have given them a different response than what they were expecting. Though, it’s not unwelcome, especially with how much Dr. Devorak had flirted with them on their breaks—they could work with this.

“I had a few ideas, though it seems you may have others.” Salem presses their fingertips to the top of his skull, turning his head back straight, no longer in his line of vision. They lean forward, breath ghosting his ear and Salem can feel the shiver he makes. “I assumed we’d go out for a few drinks, but..” they grip his hair tight now, a stifled groan rumbling from his throat. “If you’re going to be so stubborn, I could just tie you to the bed, how does that sound?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” He downright purrs, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “Though..” Salem trails off, pulling their hands away from him entirely. Julian makes a noise of disappointment. “You’d just ramble then too, wouldn’t you?” They muse, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

“Not if you gave me something to keep my mouth busy.” Julian counters with a slightly slurred tone, low and provocative.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Salem inches their small hand to Julian’s long neck, a contrast of warm golden bronze and cool peach white. He shivers, feeling the fingertips press against his pulse point, firm and assertive. Salem tends to have an air of something domineering around them, wiser than their years in a way that makes Julian feel safe in a way. Perhaps he’ll discover a new side of that tonight. They don’t squeeze as hard as he’d like, just a firm reminder that he should listen to them. Not that he wouldn’t want to.

“You work yourself down to the bone, doctor.” Salem releases his throat, turning to meet him face to face and swinging a leg over his, taking their place on his lap. They’re still shorter than him and Julian hunches down to appear lower. “Let me take care of you.” Salem guides his head down, lower to their face with a gentleness that he could pull away if he wanted to. He doesn’t.

Julian bridges the gap and kisses them with a hunger not fitting his exhaustion, eager hands gripping their waist, long fingers prodding into the plush of their skin. Salem indulges him, keeping a grip on his fiery hair, curls caught tight between their fingers. He tastes of bitter coffee and his breath is a hot flush against Salem’s face. They catch his bottom lip between their teeth when he starts to get too eager, tugging hard enough to draw a petulant whine from the older man. They lick their lips, tugging him back by his hair. “Don’t forget who’s in control.” Salem taunts.

“I don’t want to be in control.” Julian musters after swallowing his complaints of a kiss ended too soon. “I won’t make you. Like I said, I’m taking care of you.” Salem wipes away the small trace of saliva at the corner of Julian’s mouth with their thumb, tender in a way that has him weak.

“I know you don’t like taking charge—you just want to be babied, don’t you?” Salem’s voice has a sweet lilt to it, like they were talking to a puppy rather than a grown man. Julian doesn’t think he’d quite mind being their puppy. He stiffly nods his head. “Don’t worry, when you’re with me, you don’t need to have a thought in that pretty little head of yours, does that sound good?”

Julian feels utterly bewitched, falling into Salem’s grasp willingly and eagerly. It sounds very good, to not be required to think, something that had Julian constantly fretting over. When was the last time his mind had been blissfully empty? No second guessing himself or fearing over things he can’t change—not since before the shipwreck he was sure. “It sounds good, I-I want that,” Julian’s voice comes out breathless, his heart lodged in his throat and excitement buzzing from his stomach to his fingertips.

“You can have it.”

Salem lifts themselves from his lap, unbuttoning the first few buttons of their blouse and loosening the collar. Julian stands, hands at his side as he waits for an order—guidance. The mage gestures to the far side of the room, telling in itself. “Go lay on the bed.”

The bed itself is a lackluster comparison to what it really is, rather stiff and cheap, but that isn’t an issue here.

Julian doesn’t hesitate, nearly stumbling over himself in the process. Salem’s already unlacing their boots, setting them aside by the time Julian’s made himself comfortable, taking off his own. “Have you thought of this before?” They ask, taking Julian’s hand in their own and working off the gloves. His breath catches in his throat. How is he getting so worked up already? “With you? A, uh, a few times.” How eloquent, Julian mentally kicks himself. Then again, he doesn’t have to be.

Salem smiles, setting the leather glove aside and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before moving to the other. “Tell me about it.”

Oh. Oh. Julian feels like he’s going to melt.

“You, you were a little meaner,” he rasps, watching Salem place aside the second glove. “Is this not sufficient for you?” They ponder, tracing the pad of their thumb over his knuckles. “I like this!” Julian immediately blurts, backtracking just a little. “You make me feel...safe.” Loved. He sighs, shoulders slumping forward. Salem holds no distaste in his confession, an expression of understanding. Had any of his other ‘flings’ been this easy to talk to?

“Next time, I’ll fulfill your fantasies. Just for you.” Salem makes work unbuttoning the rest of Julian’s blouse, admittedly easier with how low it usually hung. Next time, it repeats in Julian’s mind.

Julian suppresses a groan, warm hands skirting across his chest as Salem pushes his shirt off his body. “There’s one part,” Julian begins, eyes caught flickering to Salem’s chest as they begin to unbutton the rest of their shirt. “Oh?” They tilt their head just a touch, interest peaked at his half confession.

He nods. “In my, in my fantasy, you had me on my knees,” Salem sheds their shirt, baring their naked chest. Julian stares longer than he thinks is appropriate.

“And I had my mouth on you,” their hands find the laces of his trousers, untying the knot and tugging the band of it down his hips. Julian lifts his hips, assisting Salem’s endeavors of undressing him. “And you—you made fun of me while I did it.”

Salem sets his trousers aside, listening intently in what he had to say. “Is that what you want? For me to tease you?” They unbuckle their belt, sliding it from the loops of their trousers. “Yes.” Julian answers immediately, swallowing at the sight of more tanned flesh becoming exposed. They slide their pants down their hips and thighs, kicking them off next to where Julian’s lay. Now, both lay in their underwear. “Do you want me to take advantage of you? Do you want your only job to be to lay there and take it?” Salem pushes Julian’s knees aside, his gangly legs falling apart and his soul nearly leaves his body when the heel of their palm presses between his legs.

“Yes! Yes I want that—I want all of that,” Salem offers a smile full of teeth and mischief. “You really want it?” They muse, giving his throbbing length and squeeze through his underwear. Julian groans, head lolling to the side, his cheek presses to his shoulder. Salem inches their fingers further down, pressing their fingertips against his clothed taint. A sharp gasp tears from his throat and a pleased smile stretches over Salem’s lips. “Beg for me.”

Julian swallows, finding his voice in between the pitiful noises. “Please, please, I want you to touch me, use me, a-anything—fuck!” A firm squeeze hitches his voice higher in octave, his lower lip catching between his teeth.

“Lay down. I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to put that mouth to work, just like you wanted.” Salem sits back, giving the doctor room to stretch out when he lays back, his head against the pillows where he eagerly waits. His heartbeat thumps in his temples, breath catching in his throat in pure anticipation.

Salem hooks their thumb under the band of their underwear, tugging it down and tossing it aside. Julian’s eyes flick from their face, down their chest, to their navel where a happy trail of dark hair begins, leading down the soft expanse of their stomach and to what lays between their legs. They straddle his chest, a taste of what’s to come as they stare down at him. “Are you ready, Julian?”

He nods quickly, as much as his position allows. “I want you to smother me.” Julian groans, his hands finding purchase on Salem’s thick thighs. They snicker, inching up higher, knees pressing into the pillows on either side of his head. “Dirty little doctor,” they tsk and Julian’s core tightens in impatience. “You’ll get exactly what you want.” Salem sinks down and Julian is all too eager to get started, kissing over their vulva before dragging his hot tongue over it.

Salem grips his hair with one hand, the other bracing against the headboard of the bed frame. They rock their hips against his face, a flutter of heat filling their body. “That’s it,” Salem coos, the feeling of Julian’s tongue pressing against their clit downright addicting. His hands dig into their thighs, pulling them down firmer against his face, eager as he wraps his lips around them and sucks. They reward him with a harsh buck of their hips and a tug on his hair, one that has him groaning into their sex. Julian buries his nose in the thick patch of curly hair, unable to force down the noises of delight that reverberate from his throat. It only adds a bumbling vibration on Salem’s end.

They’ve never been loud in bed, only deep sighs and little noises their partners have had to work for. Conversation, though, is another story.

“Good boy..” Salem’s praise comes out as a purr, their thighs tightening around Julian’s skull like a vice. Even with his ears muffled, the doctor can still hear every little thing they say.

“You must have dreamt about this, huh? Mmm..about being pinned under me, a helpless little thing,” Julian gives his eager agreement in the form of a harsher suck, his tongue lathing over their clit until Salem’s hand starts tugging at his hair almost violently. Shallow breaths puff from his nose and Salem glides their hips down, off Julian’s mouth. He gasps sharply, lips and chin shining with spit and slick.

“Don’t stop,” he croons, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes barely staying open. The glimmer of the dimming candles around the study illuminate from behind Salem, their body casting a shadow over him and outlining their form in a flickering orange halo. Julian’s breath catches in his throat. “Did you want to choke, little man?”

Julian makes a noise of something akin to a dying animal, too caught up in the moment to be properly flustered by the sound. Salem glides their thumb over his wet lip, a flutter of arousal shooting between their legs when he desperately pulls their thumb into his mouth. A low noise escapes Salem, one from deep in their chest at the pure debauchery of the man below their thighs.

“I won’t hold back then,” they swallow thickly as they pull their thumb from his mouth, scraping his teeth as Julian reluctantly releases.

“I never said I wanted you to.” Julian counters, his voice heavy in his throat as the words pass his lips.

Salem doesn’t quite have a playful retort to that, so they grip his hair tight and slide back to his mouth. Julian, far more eager and needy, dives his tongue back in, gliding the hot wet muscle against their sex. He teases the tip of his tongue to their hole and receives a firm tap to his temple in return. His eyes flick up. “Uh-uh, off limits, I’m not into anything going in.” Salem corrects his attempt and Julian focuses elsewhere without complaint.

His tongue glides through their folds, massaging the sensitive flesh in circular strokes before wrapping his lips back around their throbbing clit, the blushing tip resting deliciously on his tongue.

The dull sting of Julian’s nails digging into their thighs is what adds fuel to the fire, his fingers adding reddened indents along the dimples of Salem’s skin. Salem tightens their thighs around his head, the sweaty flesh sticking to the sides of his cheeks and jaw, holding him in tight until there’s no room to budge—Julian’s nose is buried in the thick curls of Salem’s mound, his face damp with their arousal, and the beating of his heart in his ears. He’s getting lightheaded, blocked by soft skin and muscle that form a prison wall around his head; though that implies he’d want to escape.

Julian rubs his svelte thighs together, seeking friction and relief, though he doesn’t dare touch himself—he wants to be a good boy after all. His hips buck slightly, uselessly thrusting into the air as another gush of arousal coats his tongue.

“Mhmm, I’m close. Oh, Julian, this is what you wanted, right? For me to, ah, use you? To cum on that pretty face of yours?” Salem rests their palm on his stomach behind them, leaning back as they give lazy thrusts against his face, watching the way his eyes nearly roll back into his skull. And oh, he whimpers, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyelashes damp with budding tears. A humming, “mhm!” is all he can muster without ripping his mouth away from them.

Salem catches their bottom lip between their teeth, pupils blown wide enough only a slim ring of deep hickory visible. Julian’s mind has long turned to syrupy mush, turning to a one track focus of pleasuring the mage above him.

Salem’s hips start to stall and Julian feels excitement bite through his chest. Their eyes clench shut, lips parted in heavy breaths, the knot deep in their gut finally snapping. Julian sucks them through it, relishing the bitter tang of cum that splatters onto his tongue. His hands finally loosen from their thighs, knobby fingers leaving shaped bruises in their wake.

It takes a moment for Salem to collect themself, finally rising off his face and settling back on the bed by his side. Julian gasps in a breath, chest heaving, coated in a bright ruby blush. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, eyes focusing in and out. Salem guides him up to sit, cooing over the mess they’ve made of him. “Good boy, do you want your turn now, hm?” Their small hand traces down his chest, going with the groan of chestnut hair and down his navel, a shuddering sigh echoing from Julian’s throat in response. “I'm afraid I won’t last,” he warns, sucking in a breath as Salem tugs off his underwear, damp with precum.

Julian’s cock bobs free, smacking against his stomach. “Who said we would stop after you came?” Salem smirks, running a pointed finger up his shaft. A blubbering noise spits from his mouth, hips bucking uselessly. “Oh my,” is the only comprehensible phrase he can muster, leaning his head back against the wall behind him with a thunk. His legs spread, pulling up towards his sides for plenty of room as Salem makes themselves comfortable between his thighs. “Hm, do you have lube?”

“Huh? Oh, by the, by the desk,” Julian gestures weakly to the desk a few strides away, taking the moment to catch his breath. Salem sits up from the bed and finds a small tub of lube by the foot of the desk. ‘Medical Lubricant’ is printed on the front, and they doubt that’s what he had been using it for. They unscrew the top on their way back, scooping out a generous amount and rubbing their hands together. “Medical lubricant, huh?” Salem teases with a grin, wrapping their fingers around Julian’s cock, slowly stroking under the head.

Julian sucks in a breath, fighting the urge to bite down on his raw lip. “It’s, ah, it’s b-body safe,” he defends, gripping under his knees as he holds his skinny legs up. “One of these days I’ll have to give you a thorough examination. I’ll be the doctor for a change, how about that?” Salem circles the flat of their palm over his head and Julian’s stomach tenses, a low keening sound reverberating from his throat. “Ohohh, yes, anything- anything you want,” he babbles and Salem doubles down on their efforts, noting the way his jaw goes slack and stomach crunches with each glide of their palm over his weeping head. Julian leans his head back, neck stretched long as he stares at the ceiling.

“Look at me,” Salem commands.

“I-I’ll cum too quick if I do,” Julian pleads, that knot in his stomach growing tight, heat pooling into his gut and spreading out to every limb.

“Julian, look at me. Now.” Salem forces a strict tone and Julian whimpers, lifting his head up to see the concentrated gaze of the mage. “Good boy,” they coo, their left hand finding his sac, giving a gentle tug while their right digs its thumb under the head.

A full body shudder runs through him, every joint tightening and his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he comes—long ropes of cum splattering onto his stomach and chest, barely reaching his chin. Julian finds himself reaching forward, gripping onto the back of Salem’s neck and pulling them close, lips crashing together in a frantic embrace. Salem’s eyes widen in surprise, before closing as Julian rides out the aftershocks, muffled sobs against their lips. They push their tongue into mouth, gliding against his and licking over the blunt edge of his teeth. Julian sinks his fingers into the curls of their hair, disturbing the already loose bun they had it in.

“Mm, ha-ahh, Salem,” he pulls back with a heavy gasp, thighs trembling. “T-too much, too much,” he begs and Salem only then realizes they’ve still been stroking him. They pull their hand away and Julian breathes a sigh of relief, leaning his head back against the wall. “Oh, oh my,” his chest heaves, body slick with sweat and his own spend. Salem fumbles around the pile of clothes for their handkerchief, wiping off their hands, and starting to wipe down Julian’s chest and stomach. “That was, uh,” he stumbles over his words.

“Good, I hope?” Salem looks up from their lashes at him, giving his thigh a pat of finality as they finish cleaning him.

“Unprofessional,” Julian manages to get out between his stammering. “Not that it wasn’t good! In fact it was really good, but you’re my apprentice, and- and I don’t want to take advantage of you—“

Salem sighs and the action alone takes Julian off guard. “You didn’t take advantage of me, I wanted this. Besides, you weren’t the one in charge, were you?”

Julian slowly shakes his head, bashful.

“We’re both adults, Julian. Technically, this was off the clock.” Salem snickers at the last part, the whole reason they’re here because the doctor wouldn’t take a break. Julian sighs through his nose and chuckles lightly. “I suppose that’s right. But I’d say we did this in the wrong order.”

“What do you mean?” They cock their head to the side.

“I thought I was supposed to take you on a date first.”

Salem snorts and rolls their eyes. “It’s not too late for that,” a devilish smile spreads on their lips. “If you’re still able to walk, that is.”

Julian’s face blooms a bright scarlet, floundering for a moment before a smirk breaks on his face. “Ohoho, you’ll just have to make good on that promise.”

They think for a moment. Was this truly ok? In the middle of the plague, to be seeking comfort in another person, their boss of all people? Salem halts that train of thought before it goes off the rails. They’re being safe, they’re both healthy; what’s the harm in a little fun?

“I just might have to, won’t I?”

[julianxhawthorne]

There were nights where Julian was ridden with thoughts, either when he was in bed alone or when he spent watching her asleep, but it riddled him that despite the short duration of their relationship, he sometimes confused even himself at how to call her. She wasn’t girlfriend material, not anymore. He’d slide a ring around her finger tomorrow if she’d let him, call her his wife, parade her around for the world to witness. A year ago the thought would have frightened him, now it only brought a smile to his face. Yet he didn’t want to rush things, even if they already had the talk that they were more than ready to let fate decide on their fertility. Should they have a baby, so it would be. He didn’t want to scare her away by using labels. Instead he would relish in whatever moment he could spend with her, coming home to her had just become his favourite time of day. A hum sounded from him, her nickname like music to his ears that were still bothered from not just the flight, but the loud sounds of racing cars and board radios. Yet all fell quiet as soon as he was with her. That’s how he knew. That’s how he’d known from very early on that she might just be it, if she shared the same sentiment. “Oh I do, but it pales in comparison to the real thing.” He mused, following her across the bridge to where his front door was, or so he assumed. He didn’t register a change in temperature, didn’t feel a different ground beneath his feet. “Best stay close then.” Julian mused, opening his eyes yet squinting them, focusing on her features, exaggerating what she made him do, and he set foot inside after her. “You look beautiful, did I mention?” @havenbsinclair

He hadn't planned on getting there so late, requiring a visit at the youth center before he was to continue home, which he had, he just got caught up with a phone call. He parked his car on the drive way, figuring he might need it later on so he didn't require the garage under the house. It was a welcomed sight, walking up the bridge to his house and being greeted by such a gorgeous sight, and he wasn't talking about the house or the sea in the background. No instead it met him halfway, greeting him with a kiss. "Hi, back." He murmured, gently lifting her chin with the hook of his finger, fully intended to kiss her once more when she instead took hold of his head. His hand then settled on the side of her neck instead, fingertips lightly brushing her skin. "With my life." He stated, as if whatever was going to come from her mouth next wouldn't surprise him in the slightest. He dipped his head slightly, with that bumping noses. "Kind of hard to check you out with my eyes closed, sparkles." He joked, yet closed his eyes nevertheless, holding up his hand for her to take a hold of so she could lead him where she wanted him to take. "Careful, I'm insured for damages, will cost you if you drop me." @havenbsinclair

[conflicted-crowd]

Muses and Faceclaims

Will give bios upon request

Harry Potter

Harry Potter - Daniel Radcliffe

Hermione Granger - Emma Watson

Molly Weasley - Julie Walters

Ginny Weasley - Bonnie Wright

Fred Weasley - James Phelps

Charlie Weasley - Sam Heughan

Draco Lucius Malfoy - Tom Felton

Newt Scamander - Eddie Redmayne

Severus Snape - Alan Rickman

Alexander Snape - Finn Wittrock

Victor Simon Napoleon Silverwick - Julian Morris

Donavon Andrews - Domhnall Gleeson

Nathan Christopher Wells - Luke Newberry

Scarlet Wells - Julianne Moore

Twilight

Oliver Cullen - Timothée Chalamet

Jasper Hale - Jackson Rathbone

Carlisle Cullen - Peter Facinelli

Edward Cullen - Robert Patterson

Alice Cullen - Ashley Greene

Emmett Cullen - Kellan Lutz

Rosalie Hale - Nikki Reed

Aro - Michael Sheen

Seth Clearwater - Booboo Stewart

Leah Clearwater - Julia Jones

Percy Jackson

Thomas Ryan Soleil - Calum Worthy

Theodore "Teddy" Castellan - Jake Abel

Charlotte Sienna Miles - Megan Fox

Ares - Dave Navarro

Hades - Richard Madden

Persephone - Isla Fisher

Hadestown

Orpheus - Reeve Carney

Star Wars

Zade Kalliday - Mattias Inwood

The Umbrella Academy

Allison Hargreeves - Emmy Raver-Lampman

Disney

Prince Eric - Diego Boneta

Flynn Rider - Jake Gyllenhaal

Pascal - Asa Butterfield

Pitch Black - Benedict Cumberbatch

Jack Frost (younger) - Lucky Blue Smith

Jack Frost (older) - Martin Short

Scott - John McCrea

Harry Hook - Timothy Doherty

Belle - Samantha Barks

Mirabel Madrigal - Morena Baccarin

Bruno Madrigal - Jesus Luz

Camilo Madrigal - Tre Samuels

In the Heights

Usnavi - Anthony Ramos

Dark Shadows

Barnabas Collins - Johnny Depp

Gotham

Oswald Cobblepot - Robin Lord Taylor

Jervis Tetch - Benedict Samuel

Peter "Puck" Davies - Peter Mark Kendall

Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Wallace Wells - Kieran Culkin

Schitts Creek

David Rose - Dan Levy

Patrick Brewer - Noah Reid

Ted Mullens - Dustin Mulligan

Santa Clarita Diet

Joel Hammond - Timothy Olyphant

Something Rotten!

William Shakespeare - Christian Borle

Cabin Pressure

Martin Crieff - Benedict Cumberbatch

Arthur Shappey - John Finemore

Brooklyn 99

Raymond Holt - Andre Braugher

Dear Evan Hansen

Evan Hansen - Ben Platt

Be More Chill

Michael Mell - George Salazar

Shadow and Bone

Matthias Helvar - Calahan Skogman

Fedyor Kaminsky - Julian Kostov

Genya Safin - Daisy Head

iCarly

Spencer Shay - Jerry Trainor

Freddie Benson - Nathan Kress

Atypical

Zahid Raja - Nikki Dodani

Casey Gardner - Brigette Lundy-Paine

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes - Benedict Cumberbatch

Marvel

Samantha Barnes - Katharine McPhee

Vision - Paul Bettany

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton - Jonathon Bradley

Good Omens

Anthony Crowley - David Tennant

You

Joe Goldberg - Penn Badgely

Lord of the Rings

Legolas - Orlando Bloom

Pippin Took - Billy Boyd

Samwise Gamgee - Sean Astin

Faelyn Haemir - Andrew Garfield

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Lucifer Morningstar - Luke Cook

Hilda Spellman - Lucy Davis

Sabrina Spellman Morningstar- Kiernan Shipka

Prudence Blackwood - Tati Gabrielle

Jesse Scratch - Jay Hayden

Devin Ryder - Tyler Posey

Jordan Undergrove - Adam Brody

Stardust

Elysia - Zoey Deutch

Heathers

Jason Dean (JD) - Christian Slater Les Miserables

Marius Pontmercy - Eddie Redmayne

Friends

Monica Geller - Courtney Cox

Ross Geller - David Schwimmer

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner - Thomas Gibson

Derek Morgan - Shemar Moore

Legend of the Seeker

Seraphina Renae - Amy Adams

Darken Rahl - Craig Parker

Fandomless

Rosetta Anastasia Glennwood - Dianna Agron

James Glennwood - James Spader

Sophia Ella McKenzie - Lily James

Isaiah Michael Smith - David Corenswet

Victoria Marie Julietta Harrington - Anne Hathaway

Greyson Richard Michaels - Nick Robinson

Damien Ryder Flare - Joel McHale

Travis Wright - Andrew Rannells

Daniel Storm - Cillian Murphy

Antonio Frances - Cheyenne Jackson

Jamie Taylor - Ross Lynch

Dean Taylor - Harry Connick Jr

Spencer Taylor - Evan Peters

Parker Eaton - Jonathan Groff

Tyler Eaton - Ben Platt

Warren Hall - Jordan Bridges

Xavier Collins - Tom Payne

Henry Sparks - Freddie Highmore

Axel Simmons - Chris McNally

Levi Haynes - Louis Partridge

Andrew Bentley - Aneurin Barnard

Prince Clifton Whitehall - Andrew Scott

Prince Carson Whitehall - Andrew Scott

Lane Dallaway - Ben Levi Ross

[lastsonlost]

The star begins a libel trial against a U.K. tabloid that called him a "wife beater." No matter the verdict, he's destined to lose.

If there's a single word to describe Johnny Depp's status at the moment, I'd go with zugzwang, which chess aficionados know to be the moment when a player basically gets cornered into making a move that will inevitably lead to an even more inferior position. On Tuesday, the star actor appeared in a London courtroom to take on the U.K. publisher of The Sun for characterizing him as a "wife beater" in the print edition of an April 27, 2018, online article.  Unfortunately for Depp, it seems to be a defamation trial that's a no-win situation.

Depp appears to think that success is achievable at a proceeding that will last several weeks and feature all sorts of inside details about his life plus celebrity friends including Paul Bettany and Winona Ryder. Depp is claiming that during his tumultuous marriage to Amber Heard between 2015 through 2017, he didn't actually throw a phone at her, slap her across the face, and grab her by the hair, as she once testified in a deposition during one of the nastiest divorces in Hollywood history. Perhaps Depp will play audio tapes in an effort to claim his ex-wife was the abusive one in this stormy relationship. It won't matter because there's really no reversing the damage that Depp has incurred these past few years.

That should have become obvious on June 26 when it was revealed that Disney was working on a new Pirates of the Caribbean, this time featuring a female-fronted cast led by Margot Robbie. In other words, at the exact moment when a U.K. judge was deciding on whether to actually proceed with Depp's libel suit after the actor's attorneys breached a court order by failing to turn over a series of text messages concerning the procurement of drugs, Depp may have lost his most lucrative role. A source tells The Hollywood Reporter that Jerry Bruckheimer would like to at least nod to the popularity of the Captain Jack Sparrow character in the coming film if the controversies die down, but at this point, Disney is resistant. Depp is too controversial. (Disney didn’t respond for comment.)

So Depp will pursue a favorable verdict and a nominal damages award from a trial that's playing out under English defamation standards — in other words, where the burden of truth is on the news publisher to establish rather than Depp. Meanwhile, over the next few weeks, amid an international pandemic, Depp will surely incur additional reputational harm from these prying court proceedings, the impetus for which was a column questioning J.K. Rowling's defense of Depp being cast in the adaptation of her book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It's hard to sue one's way out of controversy.

Given this situation, it's no wonder Hollywood insiders are increasingly puzzled over Depp's moves. I spoke to several industry attorneys and publicists, all of whom offered some variation on the theme that the public would likely have forgotten Depp's years-old troubles but for court actions that keep reminding everyone.

“One of the things you’re always balancing is, how do you respond to accusation? Do you add more fuel to the fire or let it dissipate?” asks Howard Bragman, a longtime crisis manager in the entertainment industry.

Says Neville Johnson, an attorney who has previously brought suits against tabloids but questions the star plaintiff's wisdom here: “Depp doesn’t need the money [from any damages award] and it is not going to enhance his reputation.”

***

How did Depp find himself at the point of zugzwang? More and more, one has got to question Depp's reliance on attorney Adam Waldman. Depp has many attorneys, and the others seem to be the ones actually doing the hard work in court, but Waldman has become Depp's mouthpiece and also looks to be the lawyer who has emerged as the star's svengali of sorts.

Who is Waldman?

A search on Google (where he referred this reporter instead of agreeing to an interview) yields some clues, though hardly anything definitive. Unlike most attorneys, Waldman maintains no bio page these days. A few years back, Waldman's D.C.-based Endeavor Group did have a working website, but no longer. A trip to the Internet Archive reveals that Waldman once took credit for overseeing "all corporate aspects" of the landmark antitrust trial United States v. Microsoft, being the "principal architect of several ground-breaking initiatives" including the Center for Global Development, and even predicting the 2009 financial crisis with a "seminal law review article" authored all the way back in 1993. That would be when he was a student at American University, which did indeed confirm his graduation in 1995.

Waldman, according to reputable press reports, seems to have been involved in various dealings with the Kremlin, Russian oligarch Oleg Deripaska, and Wikileaks founder Julian Assange. He had a lucrative ($40,000 per month) lobbying contract with Deripaska, was registered as an agent for the Russian government, visited Assange nine times in one year at the Ecuadorian embassy in London, apparently in connection with efforts to strike a deal with the DOJ, and more. His associations have become fodder for intrigue among reporters and lawmakers even if there’s a lack of public evidence of anything more than Waldman having a talent for landing recurring, if minor, roles in real-life Russian political dramas.

I'd say that Waldman's foray on the periphery of the industry hardly matters, except that it appears Depp is publicly burning bridges with the sort of abandon that one hardly ever sees among big Hollywood stars. Depp's recent legal pursuits include battling his former money managers over the disposition of hundreds of millions of dollars; splitting with longtime transactional attorney Jake Bloom; and, of course, continuing to face off against Heard again and again and again, including in a separate defamation suit against her over an op-ed she wrote for The Washington Post. That latter case is currently scheduled for trial in Virginia in January 2021.

That's a lot of legal work, and Waldman appears to have taken on a central role. As Stephen Rodrick put it in an often-cited Rolling Stone article, "Waldman seems to have convinced Depp that they are freedom fighters taking on the Hollywood machine rather than scavengers squabbling over the scraps of a fortune squandered."

Waldman is also conducting a public experiment on social media. In a nutshell, do tactics of preaching to a choir of a small number of Twitter accounts achieve anything outside of politics? Most attorneys don't pick fights with the media during a big case, particularly in the weeks before trial. Not Waldman. For weeks, he's been goading reporters at The New York Times who apparently are investigating him, and he's been whipping his followers into a frenzy with attacks on Rodrick, Variety ("Saudi Arabia's Variety"), THR ("too much corruption") and other journalists and news publications. (That said, Waldman may not be above going to his own favored media outlets. Depp's attorneys have been accused in court papers of leaking to outlets like The Blast, which seems to be to Depp what Fox News is to Trump.) He's also litigating on Twitter, presenting evidence procured from Depp's cases, and overall, exhibiting highly unusual behavior for a working attorney.

To what end? That one is very hard to answer. But if anyone in Hollywood is ready to take on "fake news," the ticket of Depp-Waldman should be deemed real contenders.

***

In the era of #MeToo, allegations of misconduct get attention — and deservedly so — but some newsrooms have traditionally made a distinction between behavior in the workplace and domestic conduct, with the latter being perceived as tabloid fodder. This time, though, an ugly divorce proceeding has transformed into something quite more.

Alas, the trial of John Christopher Depp II v. News Group Newspapers Ltd has now begun.

On July 7, Depp himself took the witness stand and accused Heard of being sociopathic, a narcissist, and completely emotionally dishonest. He insisted her "sick" claims of abuse are untrue. And in opening statements, his attorney David Sherborne said, "This is not a case about money. It is about vindication."

Depp, in fighting a battle against an unflattering headline, is merely going to draw more attention to The Sun's accusation that he's a "wife beater," especially once Heard gets on the witness stand. At the end of it all, no matter the verdict, this trial will likely do nothing to tamp down the controversies that have tarnished his career. He's elevated a tabloid columnist's random musing into something that's going to be covered by serious news outlets for weeks, months, years on end.

For that, Johnny Depp should regain his senses and fire his lawyers.

Vindication ain't possible. The damage is done. That's the only thing a successful libel claim shows.

__________

What kind of Weinstein bullshit is this?  So what, If he gives up on getting Justice for what hes been through Hollywood might throw him some crumbs? 

JUST SHUT UP AND SUFFER IN SILENCE!  ACCEPT THE LIES THAT WERE SPREAD ABOUT YOU! LET YOUR ABUSER WIN!

 I wonder if this clown would tell metoo victims not to get Justice?

[indieboysarehot]

The public eye - Nick Valensi x reader pt 9

“The Strokes’ Guitarist, Nick Valensi, Picks Fight With The Libertines’ Pete Doherty!” Nikolai read aloud to the band, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.  Everyone shook their head in a “goddammit” sort of way, Nick being the most upset and embarrassed over his impulsive bad behavior. He barely remembered much of what happened, the only proof being the headlines, the pictures, and his very bruised knuckles. 

“Fuck…why am I so stupid?!” Nick questioned out loud.  Fab was about to respond, but Albert put a hand over his friend’s mouth as to not elevate the situation further. Fab always said it how it was, but right now was NOT the time. 

Your head was in your boyfriend’s lap and, when he said that, you frowned at him. “It’s not fully your fault…he instigated it with kissing me—“

“Yeah, but I couldve literally done anything else but punch the guy..”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Albert began, “and now you - we - have to live with the consequences. Next time, Nick, maybe you should think a little. It’s not that hard. Like I get it dude, I really do, but like…you punched one of England’s favorite rockstars. How are you gonna get back it favor with the Brits?”

“I dont know. If I did know, I’d be doing it right now.” Nick looked down and frowned back at you. He really did a number on that guy and now he felt really horrible about it. BUT he still believed that it was all on Pete for kissing you…although he didn’t know that the guitarist and you were dating. BUT he was still gonna believe it was Pete’s fault. 

Julian spoke up, “well…you better come up with something cuz - if not - we’re kinda fucked right now.”

Nick pursed his lips. This was gonna be hard. 

——————

Your boyfriend thought long and hard about what to do, and the only option that seemed most fit was this….

“I dont think we should see each other anymore…” 

You two were cuddling when he dropped that on you, mumbling it into your hair as you two were spooning with him as the big spoon (like always).  Immediately you turned around. 

“What do you mean ‘I dont think we should see each other anymore’? Just because of one fucking fight, youre gonna throw away our relationship?”

“I just dont want to fuck up your reputation. You’re now in the public eye and people are listening to your stuff and I dont wanna be what holds you back. I can deal with my reputation being fucked, but if I see yours getting that way too, I’ll never forgive myself.” 

Truly hurt and angry, you got up from his bunk, mumbling a “fuck you, Nick Valensi.” 

Already he was regretting what he did. 

——————-

For the rest of the tour, you ignored Nick. It was an awkward last month with everyone feeling like they were walking on eggshells as to not upset you or him.  Nick had gotten a bit out of control, partying and bringing random girls back to the bus, finding any way he could to get drugs, and not even showing up to soundchecks…and shows. 

You stopped practicing and writing music; he was your muse and how could you write without your muse?

In other terms…the last leg of the tour was a mess and it was tiring for all of you. No one wanted to continue the tour. 

——————

When you got back to New York, you avoided the guys as much as possible, even moving out of the apartment that you shared with Julian and Albert. You explained that it was “for the best” and that it would be a good idea if you “moved on.” They were heartbroken. 

Nick kept getting more wild with his days and nights and everyone was getting more and more concerned by the moment, but it wasnt until the night when he left right in the middle of a show that everyone - including tabloids and fans - became truly worried. Yeah, everyone was a bit concerned, but him grabbing Julian’s mic and saying “fuck this” and walking off was just a whole new level of concerning. He took this band so seriously, but….now….the problems he had created had gotten truly out of hand. 

You were always keeping a close eye on him from a distance and now you were scared. Really really scared. 

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

oooooooh sheeeeeeeit. he done fucked up this time

[yeaahishowedupatyourparty]

OG GIRLS: where they’re at & where they’re going...

zara extential crisis calloway 

when we get back to og...

she won’t be with danny because meg took him away for her. jk. they split when he went to get more help for his mental health and I feel like she definitely would have been supportive but you know it HURT her. since then, she’s gone back to letting just anybody use her in hopes that one of them might want to keep her around. obviously they rarely do but what else can she do about it? she’s still not talking to her dad, even though he’s probably smug as fuck about her not being with danny anymore.

connections...

just a HEAP of people who’re around to see her slip back into old zara ways; whether that’s friends who notice she’s out more, guys who take advantage of the situation and start sleeping with her etc. i feel like if this is going to be a low point, I might as well go all out with it.

sienna raddison 

when we get back to og...

I'm going to hit reset on her, i think! she’s still an exchange student from diamond bridge but her main objective is to use the popular people in st judes to get her name out there more. she’s still going to have a few genuine connections but coming from her rough background where she didn’t have access to much, she almost always has her eyes on the prize and doesn't really care about who she steps on to reach it. 

connections...

public flings, short-term dates and friendships who will get her name out there. first, I think she’ll come off as a social butterfly but it’ll soon become very clear that she hops around and uses people for relevance where she sees fit.

soraya castillo-sparks

when we get back to og...

I'm honestly going to say she took a LONG break from st judes and didn't go to any events and wasn't seen around town. i feel like everything she does constantly being compared to holly killed her passion for music/my muse for her. so, I'm going to say she just left and only kept contact with like julian, poppy, christelle, athena and hensley (and her family). her coming back will be her ‘don’t go yet’ era and i just want her back with a lot of energy and like OG soraya because she’s been down for the LONGEST time.

connections...

I'd REALLY love musicians she helps with song-writing. i feel like while she’s working on her own music, writing would definitely be something she’s passionate about too. on top of that, I'm just going to branch her out and get her healthier friendships to help me gain back the original Soraya energy she had when she first got here. 

ruby rosini

when we get back to og...

ruby was in a pretty good place where i left off. unless fae says otherwise, the rumours about her potentially re-dating dallas will be flying around and obviously she’s come out of her relationship with rosalie. the one thing I will say is she’s probably in a place where she’s more positive towards ros and not as sad or down about it. i think she’d just be trying to move back into a good place and a productive lifestyle. when we get back, the positions era will be just starting because i didn’t do it enough justice...r.e.m beauty too! 

connections

nothing major honestly? maybe some first and second years in music that she’s mentoring, not necessarily writing for but just helping them out where they need it. i’d also love some actors and musicians to be cast in the up and coming wicked movie with her even though it probably won't be until 2023? 

lacey i’m alive but i’m dead calloway

when we get back to og...

she’s still going to be an absolute mess tbh and relying on lorenzo, parker and zara to make sure she doesn’t actually die for real this time. she’s still involved with marcus (ambers ex who she slept with when they were dating hjkf) not in a sexual way but he still provides drugs for her and she likes that he isn't invested in her enough to actually care. this is all under the surface though because she actually has a very good acting and stage career blossoming if you don’t look at her personal life too in depth. 

connections...

i feel like there are two sides to her life - the glittery, glamorous side which would be like coworkers and costars who have the pleasure of bubbly, hiding her real feelings lacey and then the dark, messy side. it might be people who realise she’s got an addiction or who just see her generally behaving in ways she shouldn't and maybe even tip-off the insider or hold it against her in some way, shape or form. 

janey powell

when we get back to og...

no real dramatic shifts which sometimes makes me think she’s boring but i think because she has the trafficking story and her background is SO intense, it makes sense for her to crave familiarity and not be heading anywhere fast development wise. she’s still very dependent on wesley, harvey and annabel for support and keeps her close circle VERY small. she has just launched the first two books of Harry Potter and will keep doing so.

connections...

to shake things up a little, maybe a fan who has good intentions/genuinely loves her but the intensity might freak her out? i feel like that’d make her go in on herself/cancel appearances and signings etc. which could leave a lot of people very pissed off with her, especially people who don't know the full story.

ivy winters-brown

when we get back to og...

kind of already pre-plotted with fae tbh and it’s mainly jude’s plot but I guess kind of effects her? :’) despite dating, ivy and jude have always come from different places on the social hierarchy with ivy being the school’s golden girl and jude being a wallflower. since they started dating, jude has been hanging out with ivy and her friends a lot (see stanley, nate, alani etc.) but things between him x stanley aren't great. of course ivy’s always and forever on jude’s sit but it does mean re-discovering where she fits into st judes socially. other than that, she’s continuing taking her dance career VERY seriously and is still competing. 

connections...

more people linked to her through dance and also friends who are like “lmao what?” about her relationship because ivy’s always dated jock types. I really do feel like jude x ivy are a cute couple but definitely don't make a lot of sense to their friends - especially because everyones young and therefore more judgy about stuff like that. anyone with potential friction there. more friends! exes! anything tbh.

imogen hamilton

when we get back to og...

on an official ‘off again’ with nate. when we switch back, she’ll be prepping for her life support tour and really focused on music; the tour is 1000% funded and promoted by her dad’s label lmao. i feel like that isn't used enough in the role-play. when we left off, she was hooking up with harvey every now and again and will happily continue unless meg changes anything, it’s up to her! 

connections...

imogen’s current exes are nate and sawyer but I feel like she definitely has more than just two and they’re almost all messy so I'd love to develop that?maybe someone her dad decided to place on her tour as an opening act but they don’t instantly hit it off? they just have to pretend to be fans of one another for the cameras but there’s more to it? we can discuss...

florence hamilton

when we go back to og...

meg correct me if I'm wrong but she’s STILL married to dom and nothing ever separated them. i feel like her eating disorder and trying to better herself and her personal health goals will always be a big thing for florence; obviously i'll never involve anyone who’s uncomfortable with that, but her anorexia is definitely going to be there. on top of that, feeling the pressure from family to live up to her potential and work her ass off with dance, that’ll still be going ahead and i definitely thinks fans and her friends will be able to see things aren't right. 

connections

she doesn't really need new ones but I'm happy to offer her up! 

disney carmichael (hamilton, sorry.) 

when we go back to og....

she had baby 3 in the beginning of december, just two months after the twins turned 1 years old. however, both she and brody are going back to the spotlight officially. the girls will be spending a lot of time with their parents and nannies while they start acting again and for disney, i think it’s MUCH needed to be honest. it’ll probably earn criticism for what kind of parent she is but if you know her, she won’t give a shit. in terms of madison dying, that’ll just be something you never, ever hear of her speak publicly tbh.

connections...

it’ll mainly be costars AND people working in her store. i’m going to have her be the director of tick, tick...boom! which will give me a chance to get her casting people i guess? everything’s going to be career based for her basically until further notice! 

bella sleeping with her teacher carmichael

when we return back to og...

she’s still got MASSIVE daddy issues from everything that’s been happening with james. now that she knows joel likes her too, this girl is going to be out of control with how much she’s around him and i feel like it’s going to become increasingly obvious too. at the same time, her parents arranged for her to date lawson AGES ago and she’s still doing that to keep them happy but at the moment, they very much have a love/hate relationship.

connections...

a small group of friends who know about her and Joel as well as just people in general she’s friends with/her exes etc. etc.

[attitvdes]

starter for ﹕@moondustlings

plotline ﹕"we’ve been sitting in this place for what feels like ten years and you keep fucking teasing me so get in the bathroom stall right now & let me fuck your brains out threads" from here

muse ﹕julian bridges

julian looked at the artist he was supposed to be having a business double date with per their request, nodding along to their requests for their upcoming collaboration. however the only thing on his mind was his date's petite hand traveling up his thigh once again. she'd already grazed his cock several times, causing all the blood to flow south and his brain losing all train of thought. she'd even stroked him a few times, causing him to grab her hand and pause its movement, otherwise he was certain he'd cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. they'd already been here a couple of hours and suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. "that sounds great. we're just going to grab some fresh air. will you excuse us for a minute?" julian asked at the first pause in conversation and the world renowned artist merely nodded, turning to their own date to continue the conversation.

he grabbed his date's hand, nearly dragging her across the restaurant, making it seem like they were heading outside, before switching directions and heading straight for the ladies room. pushing her into the nearest stall, he locked the door behind them and grabbed ahold of her chin. "you fucking tease. i'm going to make you regret every move you've made tonight," he growled as his face lowered to the space between her neck and shoulder and biting down hard. he didn't care that they'd return looking freshly fucked, the only thing on his mind being getting his release. "get on your knees," julian demanded as he pulled his face away from her neck, cocking a brow in waiting.

[wordsablaze]

6/13 - matching scars

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: of course my first witcher-related writing of the year is jaskier being a lovesick fool...

previous chapter

-

Jaskier grew up clumsy.

He was careless in his adventures and thoughtless in his quests and he very rarely stopped to try and avoid landing himself in danger.

And yet, he seemed to have luck on his side. For all the mess he made and clothes he ripped, he very rarely broke skin or bled. If he did, it was only ever superficial, small grazes or cuts that healed before he could get in much trouble for displaying them - the bruises he gained were rarely even noticed by his parents for the maids would cover them up with longer sleeves or darker fabric colours in fear of punishment.

Unfortunately, luck could do very little in the face of Destiny.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice the faint lines that shone on his skin, seemingly under his skin really, where there was no reason for him to have scars. It didn’t take long at all, for infants rarely wielded the weapons needed to create even one wound, never mind the sheer amount that Jaskier seemed to wear right from when he was born.

“Oh, you poor dear,” a healer murmurs as she looks over the silvery marks on Jaskier’s back. He’s none the wiser, babbling at her with a grin on his tiny face and a sparkle in his eyes.

A sparkle that his mother’s eyes do not share as she frowns down at her child. “What’s wrong with him?”

The healer, Ania, shakes her head as she lets Jaskier, who is still Julian, curl his fingers around her thumb. “Nothing. He is destined to someone with a dangerous profession, that’s all.”

His mother just sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Years later, she’s doing the same thing, an older but still young Julian perched on his bed as the same healer cups his face in her hand, frowning at the silvery ghosts of scars running all the way down one side of his face.

“Do you have to make them go away? They look so beautiful!” Julian protests as a potion is placed in his hands.

His mother glares at him. “We cannot have an heir running around the place with imperfections, Julian!”

Ania winces at her words but says nothing as Julian folds his arms. He looks up at her with hope in his oddly bright eyes. “Please don’t make me! I like them,” he whispers, desperate.

“Julian, enough! You will drink the potion and I won’t hear another word from you!” His mother orders, waiting until Julian swallows down said potion before leaving the room, ignoring the way his shoulders slump in bitter resignation.

“I’m sorry,” Ania murmurs, “but it’s best not to argue with your parents on this.”

“I hate them,” Julian mutters angrily, his chin wobbling. “I hate them and I don’t want to pretend I don’t have an other half!”

Ania brushes a tear from his eye and offers him a smile. “They’re not totally gone, you know. There are no ingredients that can hide Destiny away forever.”

Julian bites his lip, eventually frowning as he registers her words. “You’re helping me?”

She winks. “I might be knowledgeable but even I can’t heal what hasn’t been broken.”

But Julian shakes his head, sliding off the bed and making his way to the door, but not before turning back to look at her again. “I’m im- imperfect, of course I’m broken. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Ania’s heart breaks for this child who should be excited about his destiny but is instead worried that he needs to be fixed in order to please his family, a family that he hates. She wants to tell him that his marks are normal but even she can’t deny that they’re not and she finds herself lacking the right words.

“Thank you,” Julian whispers, neither of them quite sure what he’s meant to be grateful for when it’s clear he’s decided she’s not helping him after all, before he leaves and she’s left in his empty room with an empty vial.

Decades later, Jaskier is once again thanking a healer, a different one in a different town and not for himself this time but on behalf of Geralt, who doesn’t always use his words at the best of times, never mind after nearly dying at the hands of a basilisk.

“That one’s going to scar, I’m afraid,” the healer tells him.

Jaskier just smiles. “That’s okay, better a scarred muse than no muse at all.”

The healer laughs, shaking his head in amusement before handing Jaskier a salve. “I know you said he heals fast but he’ll need more of this applied to the wound before you leave. You’re welcome to rest here but I’m needed elsewhere.”

Glancing over Geralt with a small smile, Jaskier takes the salve. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. We won’t forget it, I swear.”

The healer nods in satisfaction and once he’s gone, Jaskier hesitates only a moment before walking over to the mirror and turning his back to it, craning his neck so he can inspect his skin and not exactly surprised when there’s nothing to match where Geralt’s wound was. To be fair though, there’s really nothing at all on his skin.

He sighs, settling into one of the chairs beside Geralt’s bed and letting his head fall into his hands.

It’s not that he doesn’t remember Geralt reluctantly telling him about the witcher trials and how they interfere with anything magic-related as a way to stop him from asking after the scars Jaskier often seems to be missing, the problem is that he also remembers the Pankratz family healer telling him how there are no ingredients that can hide destiny away forever.

“I guess you were wrong, Ania, because it’s been forever and here I am with only my own scars to show,” Jaskier mutters to himself, sighing.

He misses the patterns on his skin that he’d trace in the dead of night, staying awake so he could marvel at them under the light of the moon; he misses making up all sorts of impossible stories about what his other half is doing to end up with such wounds at all; and he misses knowing that even though his soulmate might be injured, they’re still alive and out there, with him vicariously adventuring through the scars they share.

Just as he’s wishing he could remember exactly where all the silvery marks he used to have were, Geralt stirs and Jaskier’s head snaps up, only to drop back down when he sees the witcher is still asleep, just getting comfortable.

“I probably shouldn’t spend all night thinking about Destiny when you’re going to suggest travelling as soon as you’re awake,” Jaskier sighs, not caring that Geralt couldn’t listen even if he wanted to, unconscious as he is.

After a moment, he leans against the wall behind him and curls up on the chair, letting his eyes travel over the scars of Geralt’s that he can see and sleepily tracing where they would be on his own skin, smiling at the thought of another lifetime in which he can see the marks they share instead of having lost the chance to match with his other half due to mutations and magic and messy childhoods.

(little did he know he was yet to find that chance in the first place.)

-

i actually adore this trope so writing it was both fun and immensely frustrating but hey we’re halfway through jaskier’s obliviousness now so yay for that :)

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 21

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

word count: 3451

___________________________________________

It was clear to anyone with eyes that Dale was on a warpath. Dove couldn’t necessarily blame him, but surely there were better ways to go about trying to save someone from dying. The old man’s passionate call to action to try and save the boy’s life was the last thing she expected as she hurried back to camp after she helped with Daryl. “Dove, I really need to talk to you. You might actually have some sense,” Dale approached her quickly from the direction of camp.

Dove blinked quickly and glanced over her shoulder before her focus returned to Dale. “Well, I’ll choose to take that as a compliment. What’s going on?”

“Rick’s talking about killing Randall,” Dale exclaimed. “Everyone’s going to meet up later and talk about it. I don’t think that they should do it. You know that guilty by association and not giving someone a second chance does more harm than good.” Dove frowned as she tapped her foot. “Just stand with me later. All we need is a few people to see sense! And…and maybe you can talk to Carol.”

Dove sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is totally different than anything I worked with, Dale. I didn’t work with potentially violent offenders like the people in his group.” 

Dale frowned. “What?”

The brunette ran a hand through her hair, “You heard what Daryl said. Now that’s not saying that I outright want to kill Randall before you jump down my throat.” Dove help a hand up. “Now what I’m saying is, if we let him live? What if he dips in the middle of the night and brings his people back here? Hell, I wouldn’t blame him with all this talk about people killing him and shit. Call me crazy, but I’d rather my sister and I not have to get raped and murdered.” Dove stood up straighter and marched back towards camp. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’m going to talk to Daryl,” he called after her.

“Be my guest! Odds are, you won’t get to do much talkin,” Dove rolled her eyes as she continued to walk away from the old man. 

Julian paced the living room; an uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach since Rick and Shane had gotten back. Maggie had confirmed, to Glenn at least, that Randall wasn’t lying about going to school with her. Randall had been in the same year as him, but he only recognized his name. Randall was a little bit of a weird kid, but he just didn’t want to think that someone he knew could be dangerous. Especially after what happened on the road with Mara, that could have been him in the barn. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine.

~

“Heaven is just another lie and if you believe that, you’re an idiot,” Carl spat at Carol before he headed off towards the field.

Dove stopped in her tracks and stared, wide-eyed. Carol turned quickly, a distressed look on her face. The younger woman rubbed her hands together and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m not in the business of disciplining Lori’s child for her,” Dove’s eyes didn’t leave Carl’s retreating back as she spoke.

You can’t judge how others grieve.

“It’s not okay,” Carol’s voice snapped Dove out of her thoughts and she rushed over. 

“I’ll have a talk with him,” Rick reasoned, and he passed Dove as she joined the two older women. 

“See? We’ll…we’ll…we’ll deal with it. If you can calm down so that I can…” Lori began before Carol cut her off.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Carol snapped.

“Care,” Dove cut in and placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “Don’t. It’s not Lori’s fault.” 

“I don’t need you to patronize me,” Carol kept her attention on Lori, “Everyone either avoids me or they treat me like I’m crazy. I lost my daughter. I didn’t lose my mind!” Dove dropped her hand as Carol stomped off.

“I…shit, Lori. Sorry,” Dove groaned as she rubbed her face.

Lori shook her head, “It’s fine. I get it. I…”

“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about it. Everyone just…calm the hell down already,” Dove grunted as she stomped off to follow her sister. “Jesus christ,” she hissed under her breath as she shoved her hands into her pockets. “Carol,” she called out as she closed the distance between her sister. “Carol! Just wait!”

“Why?” Carol turned quickly; Dove took a step back. “Are you gonna tell me to calm down too?”

“No. I…” Dove stuttered out.

“Because I don’t need it from you too! You’re just as bad as them. You avoided me and now I feel like we just tip-toe around each other,” Carol frowned. “I don’t need you to analyze everything I do or help me or…”

Dove shook her head, “All I have ever done since I was a little kid is try to help you! Way to pick a time to say it.” She looked down at the ground for a moment. “Just forget it then.” 

Carol huffed. “That’s not what I…”

Dove threw her hands up in the air. “All I have ever done is help you, Carol! I tried to look out for Sophia for you and we both know how that worked out.” Dove frowned as Carol’s eyes flickered around. “Now it may not have worked out so great in the past, but don’t you dare try to shut me out! Or Lori too, to top it off. She wasn’t trying to patronize you! You have to realize that we are trying to help you.”

Carol’s lip twitched as she glanced up at the sky. “I…” Dove took a step closer to her sister and waited. “I’m just so tired,” Carol’s voice broke but it seemed like there were no more tears for her to cry. 

Dove swallowed hard as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her older sister. “I am too. But listen, that’s why we all have to talk to each other. Sometimes the load is too heavy to carry alone. That’s what I’m here for. It was kind of my job,” Dove joked, and Carol let out a quiet chuckle as she hugged her sister tighter. 

Everyone else was already fighting so much; there was no reason for them to take part in it.

Dove rubbed her sister’s arm. “Listen, we’re gonna be just fine. You and me.” She held out her pinky finger and wiggled it. “Come on,” she chirped in a sing-song voice.

Carol rolled her eyes before she linked her pinky with her sister. “Happy?”

“That’s much better,” Dove grinned as she pulled her hand away and put an arm around Carol’s shoulders. “Now listen, before we get to the house, I have got to tell you about what Dale is doing. You are not gonna believe this man,” she shook her head.

“Trying to vouch for them to not kill Randall,” Carol questioned as they started to walk.

“How’d you guess,” Dove scoffed.

“Sounds like Dale, I guess. A real moral conscious,” Carol mused. 

~

The air was almost electric as everyone waited for Rick to enter so they could finally have that talk. Dove wished she could fast forward through time and just get this over with. Julian sat in the corner and chewed on his thumbnail nervously. Hadn’t enough people died already? He sat up straighter as Rick entered and then it started.

“So how do we do this,” Glenn questioned the room.

“Take a vote? Does it have to be unanimous,” Andrea questioned. Dove sat on the arm of the couch and shared a nervous look with Hershel before she turned her attention back to Rick.

“Majority rules,” Lori offered.

Rick raised his hands in the air. “Well, wait. Let’s…let’s just see where everybody stands. Then we can talk through the options.” 

“Well, where I sit, there’s only one way to go forward,” Shane started. Julian’s dark gaze shot over to Shane as he slowly shook his head. 

“Killing him,” Dale cut in. “Right? I mean, why even bother to take a vote?” Dove could feel Dale’s eyes on her as she shifted uncomfortably; she unconsciously inched closer to her sister. “It’s pretty clear which way the wind’s blowing.”

Rick frowned, “Well, if people believe we should spare him, I want to know.” Rick was really a standup guy. Dove felt reassured in her defense of his leadership to Andrea.

Dale shook his head, “I can tell you it’s a small group. Maybe just me and Glenn…maybe Dove.” 

Glenn spoke up. “I think you’re pretty much right about everything all the time, Dale. But this…”

“They’ve got you scared,” Dale assumed.

Dove stood up from the arm of the couch now. “Don’t you put him on the spot, Dale. That is just wrong and you know it!” She wrung her hands together, “Now listen, I understand where you’re coming from, I do. But I told you before, I’m not scared of that kid in the barn. I’m scared of what happens if we let him live and he freaks out because he knows we wanted to kill him,” her gaze flickered to Shane before she focused on Rick, “So I’m siding with you. Sorry, Dale.” She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“We’ve lost too many people already,” Glenn added.

 “How about you,” Julian stiffened as Dale pointed over at Maggie.

 Maggie shared a quick look with the younger man before she spoke. “Couldn’t we continue to keep him prisoner?”

“Just another mouth to feed,” Daryl answered instead. 

“Could be a mean winter,” Hershel added.

“We could ration better,” Lori inquired. 

“Well, he could be an asset,” Dale offered. “Give him a chance to prove himself!”

“That is extremely unethical,” Dove sighed. “You can’t keep a person locked up in a room like that for weeks and expect them to come out and be ready to be a functioning member of a group that kept them prisoner,” Carol placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re not letting him walk around,” Rick spoke. His word seemed final.

“We could put an escort on him,” Maggie attempted to reason with Rick.

Shane scoffed, “Who wants to volunteer for that duty?”

Julian raised his hand, “I’d do it.” 

Shane rolled his eyes and Rick raised a hand towards the young man, “I…Thank you, but I don’t see that as an option right now. I don’t think any of us should be walking around with this guy.” Dove frowned as she glanced over at Daryl. He seemed to want this over as much as she did. 

“Say we let him join us, right?” Shane spoke up again. Something about the way he spoke lately just seemed to make Dove nervous. He seemed so different back at the quarry, but now it was like every syllable was one step closer to a nuclear bomb going off. “Maybe he’s helpful. Maybe he’s nice. We let our guard down, then like bird said,” Dove’s shoulders tensed as Shane continued, “maybe he runs off, brings back his 30 men.”

“So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt,” Dale shouted. “If we do this, we’re saying there’s no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization.” 

The silence hung heavy before Hershel piped up. “Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?” 

“There are way too many things that could go wrong. They barely made it back this time,” Lori insisted. Dove couldn’t blame her; she wouldn’t want someone she loved doing something that dangerous either. 

“You could get ambushed,” Daryl added.

 “They’re right. We should not put our own people at risk,” Glenn sighed.

“If you go through with it, how would you do it,” Patricia asked.

Julian had enough; he pushed himself up from the floor and was out of the room before anyone could ask any questions.

“He’ll be fine,” Maggie nodded. “Patricia’s right. Would he suffer?”

“We could hang him, right?” Shane asked. “Just snap his neck.”

Dove shook her head, “That might be the worst thing you could do. If you don’t do it right, his neck doesn’t snap, and he just hangs there for minutes and suffocates.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Shooting may be more humane,” Rick nodded in agreement. 

Dove saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Carol was pressed closer up against the door now, almost like she was waiting to run away too. But it was Daryl who had caught her attention as he moved. The look on his face was different now, something about it made her uneasy as everyone else continued to argue. His blue eyes met her hazel ones for a minute before he gave her a subtle nod. 

“Been talking all day,” Daryl finally spoke up. “All we’ve been doing is going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles again?”

 Dale shouted louder, “This is a young man’s life! And it is worth more than a five-minute conversation! Is this what it’s come to, we kill someone because we can’t decide what else to do with him?” He scoffed at Rick. “You save him! Now look at us. He’s been tortured. He’s gonna be executed. How are we any better than those people that we’re so afraid of?”

“Dale’s right,” Rick spoke up. Dove groaned and ran a hand across the bottom half of her face. This was going to last all night at this rate. “We have a responsibility.

“So what’s the other solution,” Andrea spoke up. 

“Let Rick finish,” Lori cut her off. Dove shot Carol a worried look as Rick began again. 

“We haven’t come up with a single viable option yet,” Andrea threw her arms in the air.

“Still waiting on your contribution, bitch,” Dove whispered so only Carol could hear. 

“Stop it!” All of the shouting and yelling had finally gotten to Carol. “Just stop it. I’m sick of everyone arguing and fighting. I didn’t ask for this! You can’t ask us to decide something like this. Please decide. Either of you, both of you…whatever. But leave me and my sister out of it.”

Dove stared with wide eyes as Carol grabbed her hand and gripped it tight. The brunette nodded after a moment. “Not speaking out or killing him yourself! There’s no difference,” Dale stated as he stared at the two of them.

Dove’s neutral expression quickly turned to a scowl as she took a step towards the old man. “That’s enough,” Rick put both of his hands out. Dove stopped in her tracks. “Anybody else that wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance.” 

Dove gripped Carol’s hand tighter as they looked around the room. 

“You once said we don’t kill the living,” Dale decided to try one more time. Even through her anger, Dove had to admire his conviction. 

“That was before the living tried to kill us.”

 “But don’t you see? If we do this, the people that we were? The world that we knew? It’s dead. And this new world, it’s ugly! It’s harsh! It’s survival of the fittest and that’s a world I don’t want to live in,” Dale shouted. A cold shiver ran down Dove’s spine as she turned and looked out at the setting sun. There was no use in trying anymore. The decision was made before they even walked into the room. Whether it was today, tomorrow, or next week, that boy was going to die.

Dove frowned as Dale finally stopped and walked towards Daryl. “You’re right. This group is broken.” Her gaze followed the old man as he exited the house. 

“Well that was a fucking shit show,” she mumbled out of the corner of her mouth to Carol. Something bad was coming, she could feel it in the air. The electric feeling was still there as Dove and Carol exited the house. It was only a matter of time.

~

Dove had started off towards the old barn at a sprint when she saw Rick bringing Carl back up the hill. The sheriff was too focused on his son to notice the dark figure moving quickly through the grass a few yards away. A bang from inside the building drew her attention and Dove walked quickly towards it. The brunette gasped and stumbled backwards as Daryl threw the door open but it was who he had by the arm that really had her shocked, “You didn’t do it?” She asked in a hushed voice.

Daryl frowned, “The hell are you doin here,” he huffed as he grabbed Randall by the arm and began to pull him in the direction of the smaller barn where he was being kept prisoner. Dove followed close behind him.

“I saw Rick bringing Carl back what…”

“Miss? Miss, please,” the young boy began to plead with her.

Dove felt bile rise in her throat as Daryl gave the boy a hard shove forward. “You don’t talk to her. You hear me?”

“Daryl, you don’t have to do this,” Dove whispered.

“Go back to camp,” he hissed back and pointed up towards the house.

The young woman paused for a moment and shook her head. “No.” He stopped, but she cut him off before she could say anything. “Listen, if you’re gonna do this? I’m not gonna let you do it alone. Not saying I want to be in there but…I can keep watch! Or something,” Dove rambled.

Daryl’s blue eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because. You’re a good person. I trust why you would want to do this, but you shouldn’t have to be here alone,” she pleaded and Daryl paused for a moment as he continued to walk

“Fine. But you stay out here! Don’t come in, no matter what you hear. Don’t need to be seein that shit,” he grumbled. Dove nodded quickly and pressed her back to the door of the barn as Daryl stepped inside with Randall. It was a quiet night outside and, in the distance, Dove could see Dale walk through the field. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to be away from everyone, hell she had wanted to after everything that went down in the house. But Dove had meant what she’d said to Carol earlier and she wasn’t about to let Daryl carry this alone. 

She was about to peek her head in and ask Daryl what was taking him so long when it happened. A loud scream pierced the quiet night air and Dove jumped a few inches off the ground. Without a second thought, she threw the door to the barn open and peeked her head inside. “Daryl,” her voice came out shrill as panic flooded through her veins. 

“Shit, cmon,” Daryl practically shoved his way past her as they raced in the direction of the scream. 

“Dale,” Dove shouted into the night as she followed Daryl. Another scream echoed through the field just a few seconds before Daryl reached them. Dove slowed to a jog and let out a scream as Daryl tackled the walker off of the old man. It was like time slowed down as Dove dropped to her knees on the ground beside him. “Dale, Dale listen to me.” She tried to keep her voice calm as she took one of his hands in her own shaky ones. “Everything’s gonna be alright. We got you. We’re right here.” Tears stung her eyes as she could feel Daryl drop to the ground next to her.

“Hang in there, buddy. Everyone’s comin,” Dove turned her attention to the redneck and didn’t miss the panic on his face. As everyone else began to crowd around them, Dove was finally able to register the sound she’d missed before. Dale was choking on his own blood. Blood. The bottom half of her jeans were warm and so were her hands. Blood was everywhere. Dove let out a weak whimper as Daryl put a hand on her shoulder. “Cmon,” he pulled her quickly to her feet and ushered her closer to her sister. 

It was all too much. Dove began to cry as she took in the sight of all the blood on her hands. A scrap of fabric was shoved into her hands and then Daryl was gone. His hands were replaced by Carol’s as she wrapped her arms around her sister. 

The two of them watched as Daryl stepped forward. Dove had a feeling that someone was going to die tonight, she just didn’t count on it being Dale Horvath. 

____

@crossbowking​ @momc95​ @chaotic-gary-king-stan​

[seanfalco]

(More Than Just) Travel Partners - Part V

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x f!Reader Word Count: 3.3k Rating: M Warning(s): Violence, Angst, Mild smut a/n: I was planning on making this part the last one, buuuut it was going to turn out much longer than I anticipated so I ended up splitting it in two.  So we have one more part to go.

[ Masterlist ]

——

Wrapped in sheets and tucked comfortably against Jaskier’s warm chest, your legs still entwined with his, a contented hum passed your lips as he wrapped his arm around your side, pulling you closer and resting his chin atop the crown of your head.  Sighing softly, a shiver ran through you as his fingertips traced idle patterns against your skin while you stroked his chest hair, your fingers tangling in the long silver chain he wore round his neck.

“That was --” you sighed, searching for the perfect word to describe how perfect your first time together had been.

“Amaaazing?  Hot?  Worthy of song?” Jaskier cut in, supplying descriptors and you giggled, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of his face. 

“All of the above.  And then some,” you decided, earning you an amused chuckle which rumbled through his chest.

“So,” he began, running his fingers up and down the length of your arm.  “What do you want to do next?”

“Round two?” You suggested, half joking.  “Or did you mean just in general, after tonight?”

Jaskier laughed again.  “Oh, round two is certainly on the table, but yes, in general.  Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to travel to next?”

Snuggling closer you let your eyes close as you breathed in his scent.  “Mmm, not really.  Wherever the wind takes us?” you mused with a soft laugh.  “I’ll be happy anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you answered truthfully.

“Gods, how are you so perfect?”  Jaskier murmured, lifting your hand from his chest to kiss softly.

Comfortable silence settled on the room and after several minutes you began to wonder if Jaskier had fallen asleep.  However, when you shifted to glance at him you found him staring ahead into space, silently chewing his bottom lip as if deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about over there, hmm?” you asked softly, wriggling your fingers still clasped in his hand.

Jumping slightly when he noticed you watching him intently, he gave a rueful chuckle.  “I --” he paused to clear his throat, his eyes flicking away sheepishly, “I was just trying to think of a way to solve your uhm, well your little husband problem,” Jaskier admitted.  “I had a thought, but well, I don’t think it’ll work after all.”

“What’s that?” you asked, touched that he was giving your dilemma such serious thought.

“Well, I thought, hey I know a guy that might be able to help, even if he doesn’t like to get involved in the ‘squabbles of humans’, except he does all the time,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Are you talking about your witcher friend?”  You distinctly remembered how Jaskier had reacted when you’d brought up Geralt’s name when you first met.

“Ah.  Yeah,” Jaskier replied, deflating as if remembering something.  “Actually, nevermind, that won’t work.”  When you looked confused he sighed and elaborated.  “The last time we spoke he made it quite clear that I was nothing more than a burden and that he didn’t want me around.”

“Oh Jask…” you murmured, the dejection in his voice pulling at your heart and you pushed yourself up to look him in the eyes as you caressed his cheek.  He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut, a shaky breath rattling through his parted lips.

It explained a lot.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, you are the farthest thing from a burden, and Geralt of Rivia is a light blinded fool if he truly thinks that.”  The quiet fierceness in your voice surprised even you, but you meant every word, and Jaskier eyed you with awe, his mouth falling open slightly.

“And who knows, maybe René will never find me, or maybe he’s already stopped looking and I’m just being paranoid, but if he hasn’t then we will cross that bridge if and when when we come to it.  Besides, it's not like I’m completely defenseless.”

Jaskier looked conflicted, but he finally nodded in agreement.  

“Perhaps you could show me how to do that little trick of yours with your knives,” he suggested, his voice turning husky.

“I suppose I could teach you,” you replied slowly, climbing into his lap to straddle him, resting your arms over his shoulders as you regarded him with a smoky grin.

“Good,” he quipped, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, “because I want to protect you too, if it comes to that.”

The heat in his voice was enough to make you shiver, and while the thought of Jaskier deftly wielding a blade was almost too hot to handle, the fact that he wanted to learn in order to protect you, well you couldn’t think of anything more romantic.

Still, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Jaskier rolling his hips under you shocked you out of your thoughts and the feel of his reinvigorated desire teasingly pressed against you had heat flooding you once more.  “I believe there was the mention of a second round, earlier?” Jaskier drawled, changing the subject, a roguish grin spreading across his face as he squeezed your bare ass.

“Someone’s impatient,” you replied, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan cutting through your words as Jaskier leaned forward to plant his lips against your neck, his teeth nipping hard enough to mark you.

“What -- do you -- expect” he asked between kisses and you found yourself grinding lazily against him in return, “when you’re sitting naked -- in my lap -- and looking like that?”

Throwing your head back as you arched against him you couldn’t help the delighted laughter that spilled forth as his lips moved lower, peppering your breasts with open mouthed kisses; absolute affection for the man beneath you spilling over, making you giddy.

This is how it’s supposed to be, you thought, holding him tighter.

Suddenly Jaskier’s face tilted back, his chin resting between your breasts as his clear blue eyes peered at you, holding you captive.  “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asked softly.

“What, to bed me?” you asked with a laugh, but Jaskier’s expression didn’t alter.

“No, to see you with your walls completely down,” he replied and your breath caught in your throat.  His lips parted as if he had more he wanted to say and you swore you could almost hear the words, but they remained unspoken and you realized in that moment just how much you wanted to hear them --to say them in return.

Instead you contented yourself with capturing his lips with yours, desperate to show him, at least, how you felt.

——

The next few weeks became a blur, and you’d never been happier.  Continuing your travels south you filled your days listening to Jaskier’s tales and writing new songs together.  You even began sharing some of your own stories with him.  They were never as exciting as his adventures with Geralt, but he would listen, enraptured, treating each new morsel of information about your past as if it were a priceless treasure he’d uncovered, hoping to one day collect all the pieces.

Your nights were spent much the same as before: drinking, dancing, and performing, except now when you were finished you’d retire to your shared room, or lay together under the stars -- sometimes spending hours getting lost in each other, mapping out each other’s bodies by touch, and learning each other’s most intimate desires by trial and error before falling asleep, safe and warm in Jaskier’s arms.

You even made good on your promise to begin teaching him how to use your knives and Jaskier was a surprisingly adept student, picking it up faster than you’d expected, though you’d had to help bandage his poor nicked up fingers more than once, mending each one with a kiss for good measure.  

Jaskier ambled along next to Swift in the darkening light of the afternoon, twirling one of the small daggers between his fingers as you swayed in the saddle, penning lyrics in a small notebook in your lap.

“I bet you I can hit the trunk of that tree from one hundred paces,” he said suddenly, his face lighting up as you turned to him.

“Oh yeah?  Now that I’d like to see,” you exclaimed, cocking an eyebrow.

Flashing a smirk and a wink Jaskier hefted the dagger in his hand, pinching the blade between his finger and thumb and threw it.  The dagger soared in a tight arc toward the tree in question, spinning blade over handle several times before glancing off the bark and falling harmlessly into the grass. 

At this Jaskier let out an indignant gasp and threw his hands on his hips.  “Oh come on!  That’s bollocks!”

You had to press a hand to your mouth to keep from giggling, not wanting to bruise his ego further.  When he turned to you with a frown you quickly pulled your hand from your face, smoothing your expression.  “Try it again, but don’t forget to snap your wrist and don’t let go of the knife too early.”

Jaskier nodded, his lips moving silently, as if repeating the instructions back to himself.  Slipping another dagger from his sleeve he tried again, and this time the blade buried into the side of the tree with a loud ‘tchunk’.  Letting out an excited cry he turned to flash you a proud grin that had your heart skipping a beat.

“Would’ve been more impressive if I’d gotten it on the first try,” he grumbled however, and you swatted at him with your notebook.

“Don’t be like that,” you admonished, a grin twisting your attempt at sternness.  “I’m still very impressed.”

“You’re impressed by everything I do,” Jaskier pointed out, traipsing off toward the tree to retrieve the two daggers.  

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked with a laugh, watching him struggle to pull the second dagger free and rummage through the foliage nearby for the first one.  After a couple minutes of hunting he gave a triumphant ‘aha!’ and stood, dusting off his trousers before returning to your side and slipping the blades back into their hiding spots. 

“Come to think of it, it’s not,” he said after a moment, glancing up at you.  “In fact, it’s quite nice being appreciated.”

Grinning softly you offered him a hand and he took it, stepping into Swift’s stirrup and swinging his leg over the back of the saddle to settle in behind you; brushing a peck to your cheek.

“So what d’ya say we find a tavern for the night and do what we do best?” 

——

The loud hum of voices that filled the tavern’s common room quieted somewhat as you began to play, but several people still talked loudly, determined to carry on their conversation, despite your playing.  Jaskier shot a scathing glare at them as he sang louder, trying to drown them out with his own voice.  Eventually they got up from their table and your gaze followed them to the door, relief filling you as they left.

Your relief was short lived however, as your eyes fell on a man in a dark cape, brooding by himself in a booth near the back of the room, his cowl pulled up to cover his face.  Instantly a shiver raced through you and your face began to tingle, your lips going numb with fear.  A serving girl approached the hooded man and he turned to speak with her, handing her some coins before she turned away, and the song ended.

“[Y/N], are you alright?” Jaskier’s voice in your ear startled you and you tore your eyes from the man in the booth to look at him.

“What?” you asked, trying to gain your bearings.

“You missed a few notes in that song, is everything okay?”

Now that he’d gotten a closer look at you, concern filled his eyes and he frowned.  “You look pale [Y/N], what’s wrong?”  Suddenly he looked around the crowd.  “Did you see something?  Is-is he here?”

You knew exactly who Jaskier meant and you bit your lip, willing the anxiety that had plunged you into ice water to go away.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, searching the crowd.  “There was a man in a cloak, but I couldn’t see his face.  Now I can’t even find him.”

It was true, the cloaked man was now nowhere to be found and you didn’t know if his absence was a good or bad thing.  The crowd was becoming restless and you shook your head ruefully.  “Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” you hissed, frustration replacing your anxiety.

“It’s alright,” Jaskier assured you, putting on a strained grin for the crowd.  “I’ll keep my eyes peeled and if I see anything we’ll leave.  I’ve got you.”

Nodding you brought your fiddle back up to your chin and began playing the next song, settling the crowd.  As you played you scanned the room, double and triple checking the space, but the hooded man truly was nowhere to be seen.

——

As your set came to an end you were beginning to feel slightly better, though you couldn’t help but notice the serving girl from earlier mooning after Jaskier, flashing him alluring smiles anytime he looked her way.  You knew he was merely playing to the crowd when he would occasionally smile back and wink; a bard had to be likable, right?  It still twisted your stomach in jealous knots though.

It helped that once your instruments were stowed away in your room and you were away from prying eyes Jaskier pulled you close, kissing you thoroughly, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face.

Sighing into the kiss you deepened it, your hands clutching at his open doublet; your fingers brushing the cool metal of the brooch you’d given him.  He’d kept it pinned to his outfit every day since the night at the palace.  The thought made you smile.

“Mmm you seem to be… feeling better,” Jaskier observed, pulling back to study your face.

“I am,” you replied, your fingers easing on the stiff silken fabric; your hands smoothing the wrinkles you’d made.

“Good,” he replied, “I was getting worried.”

Affection bloomed in your chest and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face to his chest, unable to speak, just wanting to hold him and you felt Jaskier squeeze you back, resting his temple against your hair.

After several minutes he pulled back, pressing a kiss to your forehead and flashing a smile.  “Why don’t I go order us some drinks while you finish washing up, hmm?  Something to take some of the edge off?”

“Sounds perfect,” you purred, “I’ll meet you at the bar.”

——

Feeling much better after washing your face and changing into a fresh dress you walked down the steps and back into the tavern proper, your gaze searching for Jaskier.  The dim candle light flickering from the wall sconces made it difficult to make out anyone from far away and you ducked through the crowd, making your way to the bar.  You heard his voice before you saw him and as you turned the corner and he came into view you froze, your heart dropping into your stomach.

“Jask…?” your voice cracked, turning hoarse and withering away; confusion, anger, and hurt warring across your face.

Jaskier, disheveled and pressed back into one of the booths, the serving girl from before practically in his lap gave an alarmed cry at your sudden appearance, his eyes going wide, and the girl twisted to stare at you, her yes flashing as she directed a shit-eating grin your way.

“[Y/N] this is not what it looks like!” Jaskier exclaimed, and a hollow laugh burst from your lips.

“Oh it’s pretty obvious what it looks like,” you growled, anger fueling you now and you turned on your heel.  Feeling as if you were going to be sick, you needed to be anywhere but there.

“Nononono, [Y/N]!” Jaskier exclaimed, unceremoniously pushing the girl off him to chase after you.

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you marched away, stumbling into people in your haste.  As you reached the stairs Jaskier caught up to you, grasping your arm and pulling you to a stop.

“[Y/N] wait!  Please just let me explain.  It’s really not what you think, I assure you,” he exclaimed, desperation lacing his voice.

Rounding on him you jabbed a finger into his chest.  “I saw the way you were smiling at her earlier -- God’s I’m such a fool,” you cried, desperate not to break down in front of him, in front of all those people, but his grasp on you was too tight and he wasn’t letting go.

“[Y/N] please, I love you.”

Jaskier’s words and the pain in his eyes snapped something in you and the sharp ‘crack’ of your hand across his face quieted the room, all eyes turning toward you.  “How dare you?” you hissed, your voice trembling dangerously.  “You used me to-to further your career and -- bolster your image and I… I believed you when you told me I was special.  Gods, I knew this was too good to be true, I’m such an idiot.”

Jaskier watched you, shock painting his features as his mouth moved soundlessly, searching for the words to fix everything, to make you believe it was all just a misunderstanding.  With a sob you pulled your wrist free and ran up the stairs.

That seemed to snap him back to consciousness and he lurched forward to go after you, but a large firm hand on his shoulder held him in place.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’ bard?” the barrel chested barman demanded, hauling Jaskier back.  “First you lay hands on my server and now you’re bortherin’ the lady?  I dun think so pal.”

“Oh come on,” Jaskier growled, fighting in the man’s grasp.  “Let go of me!  [Y/N]!”

You could still hear Jaskier’s shouts as you hurried down the back stairwell, fiddle case and saddle bags slung over your shoulder.  Each plaintive cry cut through your heart and you knew if you went out the front and saw him again you’d probably lose your conviction and you refused to let yourself be played again.  So you slipped out the back way to the stable, rushing to saddle Swift when a low voice behind you stopped you in your tracks; the blood in your veins turning to ice.

“Hello [Y/N].  Or is it Aevryn?  Or Felka?  Or Lettie?  You’ve used so many names, I’ve lost track.”

Slowly you turned to face him, the man from your nightmares, your husband.

“So you found me René,” you said, surprised at how even your voice sounded.

The cloaked man stood blocking your exit as he lowered his hood.  “I admit, you’ve led me on a merry little chase these few years, but it's time to come home now, where you belong.  With me.”

Taking a deep breath to steal your nerves you met his gaze.

“I’ll even forgive your little tryst with the bard.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

René smiled, the charming smile you remembered, but like usual it didn’t reach his dark eyes.  “I thought you might say that.  It’s a shame really.”

“What is?” you asked, your fingers trembling as you visualized your next move.

“That I’m gunna have to take you by force.”

You moved as soon as he did.

Your first blade missed as he lunged for you and you nearly tripped over an upturned bucket as you backed away.  The second knife that sprung to your hand however found its mark, burying itself to the hilt in René’s shoulder and as he got close enough to grasp at your skirt you already had a third knife in hand and you slashed at his face, forcing him back.

If you could just get around him and back into the tavern…

Suddenly the door crashed open, breaking your concentration and your eyes met Jaskier’s.  The split second of hesitation was all René needed and he scooped you over his shoulder to toss across the saddle of his waiting horse and rode off.

Still not giving up you thrashed, trying to break free and the last thing you heard before blacking out was Jaskier’s desperate voice calling your name into the night.

[temperance-xiv]

The Arcana Playlists

This is just a collection of songs that I personally love that I thought go along well with each of the character of The Arcana! I also included the Devil and The Magician for fun, but if you want a longer playlist feel free to ask and I will try to provide. 

Julian -- A brooding adventurer’s rock and roll

You Give Love a Bad Name // Bon Jovi

Friday I’m in Love // The Cure

Ramble On // Led Zeppelin

The Killing Moon // Echo & The Bunnymen

Asra -- Mystical and dreamy classics

All of My Love // Led Zeppelin

Strawberry Fields Forever // The Beatles

Crystal // Fleetwood Mac

Younger // The Mountain Goats

Nadia -- A royal’s enigmatic melodies

Gold Dust Woman // Fleetwood Mac

Witchy Woman // Eagles

Strong Reflection // Mars Red Sky

In A Mood // TheSecondSex

Muriel -- Sweet, soft, and a little bit of melancholy 

Feels Like Heaven // Ariel Pink

Sweet Spring // Tin Hat

Dreams // Fleetwood Mac

Wish You Were Here // Pink Floyd

Portia -- Upbeat, sway your hips kinda music 

Ecstatic Baby // Yeasayer

Take Me Out // Franz Ferdinand

Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) // Looking Glass

Sister Golden Hair // America

Lucio -- Mixed feelings for a confused count

PRIDE // Kendrick Lamar

Everybody Wants to Rule the World // Tears for Fears

Tear You Apart // She Wants Revenge

Dead Inside // Muse

The Magician -- What’re they trying to tell you? 

All Along the Watchtower // Jimi Hendrix

Burning Down the House // Talking Heads

Burning Bridges // Pink Floyd

D’yer Mak’er // Led Zeppelin

The Devil -- Who said the Devil can’t have a little fun? 

Wrapped Around Your Finger // The Police

Time of the Season // The Zombies

Fame // David Bowie

Shout at the Devil // Motley Crue