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prongsiess · 2 years ago

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TRIGGER WARNING: somewhat detailed descriptions of various forms of self-harm and referenced abuse

The Black and Rosier cousins’ loved ones are no strangers to their weird family dynamic and its consequences.

Rita and Evelyn sometimes see Bella kneeling face to a wall, muttering how she isn’t enough and needs to be better after receiving a bad grade on an assignment.

Ted and Amelia have both faced Andy’s wrath when something isn’t going her way, seeing her lose control and lash out only to cry herself to sleep later that night in regret.

Alice has had to wrestle Cissa out of the shower after she had scrubbed herself raw following a letter from her mother had sent critiquing her body and saying she was wasting herself not dating a man.

James has scooped Sirius off the floor and detangled and regrew his hair after an episode where he had chopped of his hair with his potion knives because he looked in the mirror that morning and saw his mother staring back at him.

Remus has healed Sirius’ hands, full of shards of glass, and repaired their whole dorm after Sirius had sent rogue spells flying when they received a letter from their parents.

Dorcas has made sure to escort Reg to meals and monitor his eating because he had fainted on the quidditch pitch at practice again.

James has sat Regulus down in the prefect’s bath and washed his hair for him when he hadn’t slept in days leading up to exams.

Barty has wiped away Ev’s tears and made sure all the bed curtains were opened and that there was a candle burning near Ev’s bed when he was extra jumpy coming back from breaks.

Lily has floated Pandora down from the astronomy tower roof where she was looking at the stars after climbing there to escape the great hall where there had been a fight at meal time.

All of their friends and partners had witnessed and experienced the negative repercussions of growing up in that environment, but had all also seen how, despite all the trauma, they had such kind souls.

How Bella would braid the first years’ hair and tell them wonderful stories about queens and fairies and how strong those women had been just to see the little girls smile a little bit brighter.

How Andy’s hugs felt like they could heal anything, as if her arms around you meant you were safe, and when she let go and gave you a kiss on the forehead you knew, no matter what had happened or was going to happen, that you would be okay.

How Cissa would sneak into the kitchens and bake with the house elves and bring back her friends’ favourite snacks, often somehow managing to get ahold of an old family recipe that just tasted like childhood.

How Sirius laughed so loud and their eyes twinkled in the sun, how he walked the halls with an arm around one friend and a hand in another’s, pulling them in as close as he could.

How Reg would leave little notes to those he cared about, sometimes to remind them of something he thought they might forget, other times simply because he had thought of them and wanted to let them know.

How Ev’s smile felt like a crackling fire, how he made a conscious effort every year to learn everyone’s name and stop and chat with people randomly in between lessons and in the common room.

How Dora would take an interest in her friend’s hobbies and learnt to crochet, paint, cook, fly, write, play guitar and so much more in order to make those she loved feel valued and important.

Their friends and partners grew to love every aspect of them, but sometimes they would forget that things aren’t always black and white, and some things are just inexplicably bizarre.

Sitting around the Potter’s yard after Reg’s graduation celebration, all the Black-Rosier cousins and their loved ones gathered around a fire pit and reminisced about their childhood. Everything was going smoothly; Lily had shared how she loved going to the record store with her dad on Sundays to pick out a new vinyl, Mary had shared stories about camping trips with her parents and brothers near the coast, Rita had shared how she would spend hours journalling everyday and how she still has all of her old journals from her childhood, Ted recounted how he loved trips to Ireland to visit his grandparents and how his parents always used to put on Frank Sinatra on long car trips, Barty shared how him and his mother used to spend hours doing puzzles and listening to old muggle movies because that was the only time Barty would be quiet for more than 2 minutes at a time, Dorcas shared stories of visiting their mother’s family in Jamaica and how delicious the food was, Alice told stories about James, Marlene, and Peter’s escapades in this very garden and how after an unfortunate incident with water guns that were somehow filled with Monty’s experimental potions she had refused to babysit ever again, James shared how they actually managed to get a hold of those potions, Peter shared stories of young James jumping onto his back as Marlene chased him with a chicken in her hands as Marlene rolled in the grass adding odd tidbits and remarking just how much of troublesome children they were, Remus explained that he wasn’t surrounded by chaos like James, Marls, and Pete were, but he did run away from his parents in London once to go read in a big fancy library.

Everything was going smoothly, that is until the discussion got to Pandora who looked over at Evan and asked him if he remembered the time she pushed him off the swings and he had landed chin-first onto a stray garden rake, to which Evan laughed and added how, with a bleeding chin, he had decided to take his revenge on Dora and thrown rocks at her head. Cissa laughed and said it reminded her of the time she had stolen Bella’s makeup and had run away and climbed a tree to escape Bella’s wrath only for Bella to cut down the tree with Cissa still in it. To that, Andy added that when she used to babysit Reg and Sirius, they used to throw each other over the third floor railing and fall onto a couch on the first floor, climbing back up and doing that for hours. Laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach, Sirius said that at least then they had been getting along and asked Reg if he remembered the time they snuck out of their summer home in France his last summer before Hogwarts and tried to hot-wire and steal a muggle car, only for Sirius to somewhat succeed, press the gas and roll straight over Reg’s feet then stall the vehicle on his toes. At that Reg grumbled an acknowledgment and was about to sulk when he was cut off by Bella’s roaring laughter saying that she had once gotten run over by Andy who was trying to drive their parents’ boat and nearly drowned because of it around the same time.

As the Black-Rosier cousins reminisced about their strangely endearing childhood stories, their loved ones exchanged befuddled, slack-jawed looks that fell somewhere between disbelief and fear. And it was at that very moment that they simply accepted the fact that their friends and partners had somehow even worse, more confusing childhoods than they had previously thought, but that it wasn’t any use commenting on it when they were rolling on the ground laughing at how they had nearly all mutually murdered each other before even attending Hogwarts.

(Context: I hc Pandora as Evan’s cousin, and since Druella is canonically a Rosier by blood, this makes the Black sisters big cousins to both Sirius and Regulus as well as Evan and Pandora. And with the intertwined nature of the sacred 28, I hc that they all grew up quite close to one another, whether blood-related or not)

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cordonian-literature · 5 years ago

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The Aftermath - Ch. 29

Outside the Bakery

Summary: Drake tags along with Liam and the kids during the country jamboree. The day after, he has to babysit.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! I’ve removed people who haven’t interacted with my posts in a while. If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Drake -

Since he was worried about Jessica, Drake had decided to skip the fox hunt and spend the day with her. He planned on bringing her to lunch, then a movie, but instead she dragged him to set up the wedding registry. The bridal consultant walked Jessica through her choices while Drake stalled behind. Whenever she asked for his opinion, Drake would just say to choose whatever she wanted.

“Chinois?” she would persist, asking for his opinion when really, he didn’t know what to choose and didn’t care that much. “Or Birds of the Nile? Do say, Drake, I know you must prefer one of the two.”

“You can’t go wrong with either,” the consultant said helpfully. “Both are fun and fancy. And this one is simple, for everyday.”

“It’s fine,” Drake said, his tone more curtly than he intended. Both Jessica and the consultant were blinking up at him, waiting for his decision.

“China—” the consultant started up again, staring down at a plate on display. “The way I like to think of it is that it’s the end-of-day ritual. It’s wine, fun, family, togetherness. It’s a great way to put some permanent style and romance in your marriage.”

Eventually, Jessica made a decision, and they were able to return to Applewood.

But the morning of the country jamboree, she said she had to go back to the capital but promised to attend the Beaumont Bash. Drake wondered what she was leaving for, but didn’t ask her to explain. He knew she must have been emotionally distressed by her father’s passing, even though she never hinted a tear. He kissed her, let her leave, then joined the court on the lawn.

Drake decides to join Liam, who stands with Gabriel and Eleanor. Both children look around the lawn, figuring out what they want to do. Liam spots Drake and waves him over.

“Dad, could we do archery?” Gabriel asks his father.

“Of course,” Liam says. A flash of worry crosses his face as he follows the children across the lawn. “No Jessica today?” Liam asks Drake as the two friends walk side-by-side.

“Nope,” Drake responds. “She’s at the capital. Had something to do.”

“I see,” Liam responds, turning back to the children.

“Where’s Riley?” Drake looks around the lawn for her, wondering what was keeping her occupied. He notices Neville’s son running around the lawn, along with some other children.

“With Countess Hana. Riley spoke with Rashad, who hold her that Hana is hesitant to file for divorce.”

“Do I hold it like this?” Eleanor asks Liam, referring to the bow that was in her hand and too far from her face.

Liam kneels down to the girl and corrects her form, then goes to his son and does the same thing. Once he tells the children how to hold the arrow, he lets them hit the target.

Eleanor’s arrow lands on the ground in front of the target, while Gabriel’s arrow hits the target at an odd angle and lands behind it. The children laugh at each other’s mistakes, and Liam chuckles at them.

They hit a few more shots while Liam observes them, making sure there was no chance of injury.

“Do you think we could all go camping tonight?” Liam asks Drake, his eyes focused on the children. “I can have someone get the supplies together and we can surprise everyone.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What are you two doing?” Olivia asks, walking up to them.

“Hello to you, too,” Drake greets her.

“Yes, yes. Enjoying the jamboree with your fiancée?”

“She’s not here.”

“She got tired of you? It’s about time.”

“Did you come all the way over here to talk about my love life? If so, I’d like to take a minute to discuss your’s—”

“Alright, you two,” Liam interrupts them. “Duchess, I hope you have news about the investigation?”

Olivia sighs. “No. There were no fingerprints on the painting, nor anywhere in Gabriel’s room.” Her shoulders fall. “I don’t know where else to look. There’s... nothing.”

Liam’s brow furrows, a dark shadow coming over his face. “Let’s not lose hope yet. Keep looking, and let me know if you find anything. And also,” Liam brings her attention back to him. “I think Riley could use your help convincing Countess Hana to divorce the Earl.”

“On it,” Olivia states, then walks towards the two women.

Drake and Liam follow the children around the lawn, watching them enjoy different activities. Liam suggests ring toss to Eleanor, who refuses, saying that she knows she’ll lose.

“Nonsense,” Liam says, then leads them over to the booth.

Her brother grabs three rings, and Eleanor’s shoulders fall.

"Here.” Liam lifts Eleanor over his shoulders, then hands her the rings.

“I feel like a giant!” she cries.

Gabriel lets her go first, and Eleanor throws her ring in a swift arch onto an outer peg. Gabe throws it onto a center peg, and when Eleanor goes again, she hits it onto the outer peg.

When it’s time for Eleanor’s final throw, Gabriel has more points than her. Liam secretly grabs the ring from Eleanor, and throws it onto the center peg. Gabriel looks back at his father and sister suspiciously.

Even though Gabriel won the game, Eleanor still laughed along with her brother and Liam.

They walk around for a few more moments, enjoying the view of colorful booths that had been put up. They reach the entrance of the maze, and Gabriel turns to his father. “Can we do something else?”

“What would you like to do?” Liam asks.

“How about maze-tag?” Drake suggests.

Both kids violently shake their heads. He remembers the time when Eleanor got stuck in the maze, and curses himself for not remembering.

“Can we play soccer again?” Gabriel requests.

“Of course.” Liam leads the group towards the orchard, but one of his guards approaches them and says his attention is needed elsewhere.

Drake says that he’ll keep the kids occupied until Liam gets back, and a servant brings out a soccer ball for them to use.

“Do you guys wanna make teams, or...?” Drake attempts to ask them.

“No,” Gabriel answers. “We can just choose positions and play.”

“I’m fine with that. I’ve played defense.”

“I’m usually midfield.”

“I wanna be goalie!” Eleanor cries.

“Well, Eleanor,” Drake says, focusing on Gabriel and the ball. “Guess I’m defending you.”

“Don’t lose,” the girl demands.

The three of them play for hours, oblivious of the sun falling and the air getting colder. Drake was surprised at how agile Gabriel was, and had to push himself to keep up.

Soon, Liam returns and tells them that it’s time for dinner. The children race towards the tables while Drake and Liam stay back.

“Everything okay?” Drake asks his friend. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yes,” Liam huffs. “Madeleine wished to speak to me.”

“What did she want?”

“She was concerned that the Anointing Ceremony would be held for an heir whose mother is not married to the king, or at least engaged.”

“You’re no closer to proposing?” Drake asks him.

“I’m not too sure. I... I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Relief washes over Drake, but in the next second he feels guilty for it. His feelings for Riley were beginning to fade, and he was engaged to another woman, why was he jealous of his friend?

At the dinner, Drake takes his seat. He sees the children sit with Leo’s kids. Riley, Hana, Maxwell, and Rowan sit near Drake. The court goes quiet when Liam clinks his glass.

“If I may have everyone’s attention, please, I’d like to say a few words before the evening comes to a close. Firstly, I would like to thank all of you for joining us at the country estate, your company has been a pleasure. The next time we meet, it will be the last event of the Social Season. Per tradition, it will be hosted at the distinguished Beaumont House.”

As Maxwell begins to cheer and Liam brings his speech to a close, the court finishes their meals and heads back to the estate.

When Riley stands, Liam offers her his arm. She takes it with a smile, and the two of them lead the group back towards the front of the manor.

As the house comes into view, they see a limo waiting. Riley asks who it’s for, and Liam tells her that it’s waiting for them.

As they get in, Drake quickly convinces Savannah to let Bartie come along. When they’re all in the car, questions are being thrown at Liam.

“I thought we could all enjoy a night under the stars,” he tells them.

After a short drive, they exit onto a campsite. There are tents already up for everyone: Liam, Drake, Riley, Hana, Maxwell, Rowan, Bartie, Gabriel, and Eleanor.

The children rush forward, claiming their tents. Drake goes into his tent, and comes out with a bag of sticks, marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate.

While the kids chase each other around, Drake gets to work starting a fire. He hands everyone sticks and marshmallows. Liam calls the children over and gives them directions on how to make s’mores.

The group sits in silence, watching their marshmallows cook. As a joke, Eleanor lowers her stick into the fire, and her marshmallow comes back up in flames.

“Spicy s’more,” she states. Gabriel and his sister laugh, while Drake takes the stick from her and puts out the fire.

Liam, chuckling, gives Eleanor his own s’more. While she eats it, she watches her brother cook his marshmallow. Once she’s done eating, Eleanor holds out her hand to her brother. “Can I have s’more?”

“Of course you can have s’more s’mores,” Gabriel responds. The children and Maxwell burst out into laughter, clutching their stomachs.

“Did you teach them how to make puns?” Drake asks Riley.

“Nope! Must be in the genes.” She laughs, and Drake rolls his eyes.

Maxwell grabs the group’s attention next, saying that he wanted to tell them a ghost story. The children lean forward, childish fear on their faces. Riley rests her head on Liam’s shoulder as they listen. Hana and Rowan talk quietly.

Drake looks at his group of friends. It had been so long since they were together, that the feeling of companionship felt new. There was peace and comfort, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He wishes Jessica were here, but allows her to slip from his mind as he retreats into his tent and falls asleep.

...

Upon Liam’s suggestion that they go to Ramsford early, their morning is spent driving through the countryside. When they arrive, Bertrand greets them at the door and servants take their luggage inside.

Before they enter the manor, Liam turns to speak to Maxwell and Drake.

“Do you both think you can watch over the children today?” Liam asks. “I want to take Riley out on a date.”

“Definitely!” Maxwell cries. “Don’t worry about them, we’ve got it covered. You two go have fun!”

Liam thanks them, then goes into the manor. Drake tries to follow, but Maxwell blocks his path.

“What is it, Maxwell?” Drake asks, irritated.

“Okay so I know I told Liam I’d watch over the kids with you, but Rowan and I kinda have a date tonight.”

“Then why’d you say yes?”

“I don’t know!” Maxwell’s shoulders jump up. “I wanna hang out with the baby blossoms, but I also wanna spend time with Rowan! I’d ask Hana to take care of it but her dinner with Rashad is tonight, too.”

Drake pats his friend on the arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the kids.”

“Thank you!” Maxwell cries, then pulls Drake into a hug.

After a few awkward seconds, Maxwell pulls back and rushes into the house.

When it’s time for Liam and Riley to leave, they hug the children goodbye and step out. Maxwell waits a few moments, looking out the window to see if their car had left yet, then links his arm through Rowan’s and heads out the door.

Drake turns to the children, wondering if they’d just go do something or if he had to be with them at all times.

“Is there... anything you guys wanna do?” he asks them.

Eleanor shrugs. Her brother says, “I kinda want ice cream.”

That was doable. Drake ducks into the kitchen and opens the freezer, but finds nothing. He asks a servant if there was any ice cream, but they shake their head.

“Sorry kids,” he says to them once he’s returned to the lobby. “There’s no ice cream.”

“Can we go get some?” Eleanor asks.

Drake thinks a moment. Riley and Liam wouldn’t mind if he brought the kids out, right? “Don’t see why not.”

While the two of them wait in the lobby, Drake asks a servant to get a limo ready for them. Once the driver is outside, Darke leads the kids into the car and they drive off.

He sends Jessica a text, wondering what she was up to:

Hey babe. Got any plans today?

She texts back within a few seconds.

in a movie with some friends. text later xx

When they reach town, Drake tells the driver to stop, and that they could walk the rest of the way to the ice cream store. The driver says that he won’t move from this spot, and the kids lead Drake down the street.

He stops in his tracks when the kids halt in front of a bakery.

“Can we get cupcakes instead?” Eleanor asks.

“You sure?” Drake looks down at Gabriel.

“Please,” the boy says.

Drake shrugs and follows the kids into the store, the smell of freshly baked bread surrounding him. The kids walk towards the display cases, discussing what they wanted.

More and more people walk into the bakery, pushing towards the counter to get their orders. Drake pulls out his phone, wondering if Jessica was free yet. He taps Gabriel on the shoulder and tells them that he would be stepping out, but would keep an eye on them.

Outside the bakery, he watches Gabe and Ella poking at cakes and cookies that caught their eyes. He sees his own reflection in the display window, along with cars and buses on the street behind him. Drake dials Jessica’s number again and brings it to his ear, wanting to figure out if she was out of the movie theater yet.

But just as it was clicking towards voicemail, he notices a deep green sweater in the reflection, sharply contrasting with the pinkish colors of goods in the bakery. In disbelief, Drake turns.

It was Jessica, head down, in a green sweater, huddled arm in arm and whispering with a man Drake recognized — he hadn’t seen the man in what felt like forever, but Drake knew him instantly.

Boris wore the same coat from the day of the Derby. His hair is slightly ruffled, and he has a bag looped over his arm. But the astonishing part was Jessica, who always held Drake’s hand at a slight distance — tugging him along behind her, swinging her arm childishly — was nestled deep and sorrowfully into Boris’ side.

They were waiting for the light, the bus whooshed past. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice Drake.

Boris, who was talking to her quietly, tousled her hair and then turned and pulled her to him and kissed her, a kiss she returned with more tenderness than any kiss she’d ever given Drake.

They were crossing the street. Quickly, Drake turned away. He could see them perfectly well in the window of the bakery. They stopped suddenly, only a few feet away from him.

Jessica was upset. She was talking quietly, in a low voice overflowing with emotion, leaning into Boris wish her cheek pressed against his sleeve as he reached around lovingly to squeeze her arm.

Though Drake couldn’t make out what she was saying, the tone of her voice was too clear. Even in her sadness, her joy in this man — and his joy in her — was undeniable. Any stranger on the street could have recognized it.

As they glided past Drake — looking like two affectionate ghosts in the display window — he saw her reach up to quickly dash a tear from her cheek. Drake found himself blinking in astonishment at the sight: for the first time ever, Jessica was crying.

#trr fanfic #trr drake x oc #drake walker #trr au fanfic #cordonia #liam x mc #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #trh

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carewyncromwell · 5 years ago

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“And so...esteemed members of the Wizengamot...based on the overwhelming evidence -- the factually bankrupt, inflammatory anti-Muggle and Muggle-born leaflets sent out by the defendant’s Commission and promoted by the defendant herself; the transcripts of trials overseen by the defendant that spell out blatant corruption and unsanctioned cross-examination techniques, including having Dementors present during all trials and actively refusing to give any defendant proper legal representation; the testimony of over fifty Ministry employees, speaking to the defendant’s close working relationships with known Death Eaters and to her own willingness to overlook Wizarding Law to advance herself and her Commission’s political aims; the countless memos written in the defendant’s own hand condemning nearly a thousand people, including over a hundred children, to unjust captivity; and the defendant’s well-known reputation among her ex-students, her coworkers, and even her own family for enjoying the suffering of others and persecuting fellow wizards and witches not just for their blood, but also for suffering from medical conditions like lycanthropy and blood maledictions -- all of which the defense has offered no suitable defense for, aside from incorrectly asserting that the defendant was ‘simply following orders’ from her superiors...I think there is no question as to her guilt, or to what justice would be appropriate.

Although I -- as a private citizen of the Wizarding World -- agree with Minister Shacklebolt’s measure to remove the Dementors from Azkaban prison...I must acknowledge that if there were ever a case for a criminal from our world deserving the Dementor’s Kiss...it would be Dolores Jane Umbridge. But because we -- unlike the defendant -- have a code of honor before us that we will not break just to achieve a political objective...I believe it’s our solemn duty to ensure this basilisk in human skin never walks free again.”

~Carewyn Cromwell, prosecutor for the trial of Dolores Umbridge // January 1999

Hey guys! So I came across this awesome fashion post and was reminded of dress robes...so here we have a 25-year-old Carewyn Cromwell as the lawyer in charge of prosecuting Dolores Umbridge for her crimes during the Second Wizarding War. She got her hair cut, as you can see! In the 90′s, when the original books are set, there was a lot less of the “big hair” popular during the 80′s, and short, more modest hairstyles became more common. Think of this as a #Future!MC Challenge? 8D

More Future!Carewyn lore under the cut!

The Second Wizarding War was...difficult for Carewyn. Although she had so much baggage with Dumbledore, she agreed to join the Order of the Phoenix, but only on her own terms. Carewyn never attended any of the Order’s meetings in person, preferring to stay in touch solely through her old friends Tonks and Jae, so as to stay at an advantageous position within the Ministry without Fudge suspecting her of associating with known Dumbledore allies like Professor McGonagall or the Weasleys. Even if she wasn’t very active on the battlefield against Voldemort, Carewyn nonetheless provided quite a bit of covert support to them by silently sabotaging Fudge and the Death Eaters at the Ministry. It was a struggle to stay silent and composed in the face of the Death Eaters’ tyrannical takeover of the Ministry and persecution of Muggle-borns and political dissidents, but Carewyn knew she had to strike at the proper moment, if she had any chance of delivering a fatal blow to someone as powerful as Voldemort. This doesn’t mean it wasn’t very, very hard for her not to lash out violently in defense of the people the Muggle-Born Registration Commission hauled into court on trumped-up charges. She was able to smuggle intelligence out to other Order members who helped with rescuing some of those prisoners or protecting wanted fugitives, but Carewyn never forgave herself about the many people she was unable to help.

Meanwhile Carewyn’s brother, Jacob Cromwell -- now a rather prominent Cursebreaker and traveling magical researcher -- helped the Order by hiding Muggle-born fugitives in a secret room he’d constructed in his flat. Even though Ministry officials searched his home multiple times, Jacob’s combination of both magical and Muggle tricks kept the families in his care from being detected every single time.

When the Battle of Hogwarts began, the Minister and his entire support staff left the Ministry to either join their true master Voldemort or (in the case of Percy Weasley) join the Order. Carewyn -- realizing how dangerous it would be to leave the Ministry unprotected when Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still at the height of their magical power -- instead stayed behind, incapacitated the head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission Dolores Umbridge, put her under citizen’s arrest, and took temporary charge over the remainder of the Ministry’s staff. Carewyn sent the majority of them either home to their families or to Hogwarts as reinforcements -- the few employees who chose to stay behind then helped Carewyn with securing the Ministry against a possible assault by the Death Eaters in case they returned and with starting the process of rescuing the Muggle-borns and political enemies imprisoned in Azkaban and its related camps. By the time the Battle of Hogwarts was over, the Death Eaters had lost everything -- their leader, most of their members, and all the power they’d accrued over the Wizarding World.

After the Battle, Carewyn arrived at Hogwarts, seeking out Jacob, who’d gone to fight in her stead, as well as Percy, who at that point would’ve been the legal successor to the role of Minister. While there, she learned of the deaths of Tonks, Lupin, and Fred. The three deaths, on top of the past deaths of other dear friends like Rowan, Cedric, Kyril @kyril-hphm, Moody, and Dobby, were too much for Carewyn to bear. Even now, years later, she resents herself for not having been able to take care of and protect her friends the way she thinks she should have.

Since Percy had resigned as Junior Undersecretary mid-battle, it was decided that an election would have to be held very quickly -- in the meantime, Kingsley Shacklebolt took on the role temporarily, with Carewyn, Arthur Weasley, and Percy serving as support. (Shacklebolt would go on to be nominated and elected Minister for several terms.) Carewyn specifically almost singlehandedly took on the task of bringing everyone who had aligned themselves with the Death Eaters to court to receive proper justice. Fortunately, unlike Barty Crouch, Sr. during the First Wizarding War, Carewyn never railroaded her defendants or lost sight of who she was getting justice for. Every time she faced an accused Death Eater or Voldemort sympathizer, Carewyn felt the presence of her friends in that courtroom with her. And when she looked into her defendants’ eyes and -- through her Legilimency -- saw no sincere love in their minds or souls, the lawyer once called “Cursebreaker Cromwell” became all the more convinced that love was the strongest magic of them all.

Interestingly, although Carewyn prosecuted all three Malfoys, she actually offered relevant evidence and testimony she came across in her own investigations to the defense attorneys assigned to Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. She never let go of her dislike for Lucius Malfoy or his wife, but perhaps because of her sympathy for Draco Malfoy’s position as well as her having met him when he was a kid, Carewyn didn’t express vocal disappointment when the Wizengamot pardoned the Malfoy family after the War. In Draco’s case specifically, Carewyn believed that he, unlike his parents, had the potential to reform himself. She even visited Draco after he was released from custody and -- reminding him of what he’d said to her before they’d parted ways so many years ago -- challenged him to a friendly duel.

Carewyn Cromwell’s name never became world-renown, but the cases she was involved in, both regarding the War and not, became her legacy. Thanks to her efforts, countless Death Eaters were arrested; victims of the Muggle-born Registration Commission received proper compensation and justice; the Statute of Secrecy was relaxed so that Muggle spouses of witches and wizards were allowed to know of their partner’s magical talent before having children with them; and the High Inquisitor position was dismantled so thoroughly that no similar position could ever be created again.

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camillemontespan · 5 years ago

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ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [final chapter: the good life]

Master List

Thank you so so much for reading this series! I’ve loved all your feedback and support, it means so much. This is the final chapter and I hope you enjoy this. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

I know this series has been under the radar- certainly not as popular as A Kingdom Divided or The History of Us. But I haven’t minded in the slightest - I’ve enjoyed writing this AU and it’s been great having something to focus on during lockdown. I decided to finish this series on this chapter as I am now working full time in a temp job which leaves me exhausted when I get home so I feel it is time to finish Ten Years From Now with this.

@ibldw-main @pug-bitch @jovialyouthmusic @katedrakeohd @rainbowsinthestorm @emichelle @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @notoriouscs @burnsoslow @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gardeningourmet @pedudley @marshmallowsandfire @princessleac1 @kingliam2019 @drakeandkatherine ***********************************************

ten years later

The day was promising to bring the heat. The air smelled of peaches and suncream. The sound of laughter and barking mingled together, creating the special atmosphere that only the 4th of July could have.

Drake examined the burgers on the barbeque, making sure they were cooked.

‘Five minutes till the burgers are ready guys!’ he called out.

His daughters looked up to give him wide, beaming smiles before returning to play with their labrador, Clover - named after her predecessor. The dog barked happily as Lily tossed her a ball while Luna clapped her hands, laughing as Clover bolted to catch it.

Drake smiled and set to work on the hot dogs. He was making a feast today; Bianca, Savannah and Bartie were visiting for the celebrations and as the King of 4th of July, Drake was determined to make this year the best year yet.

He said that every year.

‘Hey you.’

Drake looked over his shoulder to find his wife, Camille, coming out of the house. She wore a white t-shirt, denim shorts and was barefoot. Placed on her head was her favourite white fedora. She looked happy and glowing.

‘Hey beautiful,’ he greeted her, gesturing for her to cuddle him. She wrapped her arms around him, smiling as Drake pressed a kiss on top of her head.

‘How’s the food looking?’ she asked. ‘I’ve prepared the sangria as I know your mom adores sangria, there’s wine chilling in the fridge and whiskey is on standby, ready for you when you finish your chef duties.’

Drake chuckled. ‘You really do know how to look after me.’

Camille raised an eyebrow, smiling at him mischievously. ‘Says the man who looked after me this morning.’

Drake blushed at the memory of earlier that morning, tangled in the bedsheets, his head between Camille’s thighs as her fingers gripped hold of the back of his head, her moans loud enough for only Drake to hear.

Camille gave him a wink and left him to play with their family, the Texas air blowing the scent of her coconut shampoo and Chanel perfume towards him.

Peaches, suncream, coconut and Chanel.

Drake’s favourite scents.

***************************

The past ten years had been a decade of joy, peace, love, sadness, grief and hardship. That was life. Nothing was perfect but for Drake and Camille, they certainly tried their best to make it so.

They lived with their two daughters and dog in the house that Drake had found after Camille broke down about budgets and future plans. He knew when he had seen it online that it was the house for them. When he stepped through the front door with the estate agent, he took in the light, airy rooms, the fireplace in the living room, the kitchen island, the outside space, and his feelings were confirmed.

Even better, it was only five minutes away from the Walker ranch.

Drake and Camille had moved in a few months later, excited to start decorating. They spent their days painting the nursery yellow, admiring the way the sunlight glowed against the walls, and they spent their nights out on the garden terrace, Camille setting her feet on Drake’s lap as he massaged them.

Lily was born on the 5th September. When Drake held her in his arms, he knew he would never breathe easy again; all he felt in that first moment was a wave of overwhelming protectiveness. As Camille rested, Drake cradled his newborn daughter, whispering to her about her new life. ‘You’ll be so loved,’ he reassured her. ‘Your life will be filled with sunshine and I’ll teach you how to camp, make s’mores and you’ll learn about the stars in the sky.’

He couldn’t believe that he and Camille had come this far. From best friends to strangers to lovers to partners; they had travelled every part of the relationship spectrum.. Except for one.

*************************************

Drake aged 28, Camille aged 27

Camille sat out on the terrace with Lily on her lap, holding the five day old baby close. She held a daisy in her hand and was showing it to Lily as the baby reached out to stroke it.

‘You’re as pretty as this flower,’ Camille cooed, kissing Lily on the cheek. ‘My pretty flower, Lily.’

Lily gurgled, transfixed by the flower.

‘There’s my girls,’ Drake said, coming out to the terrace. Camille smiled up at him, letting him kiss her softly on the forehead. Drake sat down on the chair beside her, watching Camille and Lily play with the flower.

His heart was pounding now. The box in his pocket felt heavy, a weight he needed to take off his person and put on Camille’s finger instead; if she would have it.

Drake cleared his throat. ‘I need to ask you something,’ he said, his voice cracking.

Camille eyed him. ‘Daddy has to ask me something,’ she whispered in Lily’s ear. ‘Sounds serious..’

Drake smiled at her teasing. Camille grinned and adjusted Lily on her lap. ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

Drake swallowed. Without a word, he got up from his seat and sank down on one knee, keeping his eyes fixed on Camille. She was staring down at him, realisation dawning on her face. Lily was still playing with the flower.

Camille’s eyes were wide. ‘Drake..’ she whispered, her voice hitching. ‘What are you doing-’

Drake took the velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing Camille the topaz engagement ring that had belonged to his grandmother. Camille let out a breath, clapping one hand to her mouth as tears filled her brown eyes. Drake smiled softly.

‘We’ve been through so much,’ he said, trying to stop his voice from wavering but failing. ‘We lost each other for ten years. I don’t wanna lose you again. You’re my best friend, my partner, the mother of my child. I need you to be my wife. I need you to be mine and for me to be yours. I want to make this official. I want to call you my wife, I want you to wear this ring and I want you to be by my side forever. Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. It’s all because of you. So.. Camille, will you marry me?’

Tears slid down her face as she nodded silently. She held out her hand to Drake. ‘Yes,’ she croaked. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

Drake let out a deep breath, mixed with a grateful laugh, and he slid her ring on her finger. It fit perfectly and gleamed in the sunlight. The light caught Lily’s eye and she reached out to stroke it; she was clearly a magpie for pretty things. ‘Gaaaah..’ she gurgled.

Camille cried as she laughed. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it Lily?’

Drake grinned and pulled Camille and Lily gently into him, kissing Camille hard before taking Lily into his arms and holding her close.

He was never letting his family go.

*************************************

‘Are we making s’mores later, dad?’ Lily asked, wandering over to Drake as he placed the burgers on a plate.

‘Course we are, baby,’ Drake told her, giving her a warm smile. ‘Wouldn’t be 4th of July without them.’

Lily grinned and started to help him plate up the hotdogs. She was like her mother; always the perfect hostess even though she was only ten years old.

The plan for today was to have a barbeque at Drake and Camille’s, before the family went to the ranch to let off fireworks by the lake. Lily and Luna were particularly excited for the fireworks; Drake had raised them to be true Walkers.

‘Hey my beautifuls!’ Bianca called, coming through the door with Camille, Savannah and Bartie close behind. Lily and Luna rushed over to their grandmother, barrelling into her to give her hugs. Savannah passed Drake a dish of macaroni cheese, eyeing the hotdogs and burgers.

‘Dad would be so proud of you right now,’ she told him, smiling. ‘What a feast!’

‘More to come!’ Drake warned her. ‘Camille made Mississippi mud pie.’

Ten minutes later, the Walkers were sat around the wooden table, toasting their glasses together and tucking into the food that Drake had prepared. Luna snuggled into Drake, happily eating her hotdog in comfortable silence. She was the quietest Walker but also, at five years old, the most intriguing. Drake often wondered what she thought about in that beautiful mind of hers.

Lily was telling Bianca about her girl band that she had formed in the playground with her friends, Harper and Violet. They had plans to achieve world domination but only if Violet overcame her stage fright. ‘It’s not looking good, grandma..’ she said mournfully.

Drake saw Camille looking sadly at the empty chair at the bottom of the table. It had been set, as always, for the one person who couldn’t be there.

Gisele.

*****************************

Drake aged 33; Camille aged 32

Drake didn’t want to tell her. He didn’t know how. He couldn’t.

Bianca had just phoned him with the worst news possible. Between her hiccups, haggered breaths and sobs, she had managed to tell Drake that she had found Gisele in her bed that morning, unable to wake up.

Camille’s grandmother had passed away during the night.

He found Camille in Lily’s bedroom, playing dollhouse with the five year old. ‘So daddy is making breakfast,’ Lily was saying, ‘and mommy is in the garden with the daughter...’

‘Is there a baby doll to add to this family?’ Camille asked. ‘Since you will be having a sister soon..’

Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t have a baby doll,’ she said sadly, ‘so the baby will have to be the pet dog too.’

Camille laughed and continued to play with the little dolls in the dollhouse. Drake cleared his throat, making her turn to look up at him, her eyes dancing with joy.

‘Hi honey!’

Drake winced. ‘Baby.. I need to talk to you.’

Alarmed, Camille left Lily to play and followed Drake out of the room, closing the door behind her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, taking his hand. ‘You look like you’re going to be sick.’

He sighed. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, his voice cracking. ‘My mom just called.. It’s your grandma, Camille..’

He didn’t have to say the words. She knew what he meant instantly. He watched as the joy left her eyes and her face turned pale.

‘No..’ she said. ‘No, no, no-’

Her eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled. Drake pulled her into him, holding her as tightly as he could as she wept. She clutched onto his denim shirt, her tears soaking through the material.

‘I’m so sorry baby..’ he murmured. ‘I’m so fucking sorry.’

The door opened.

Lily peeped out, her eyes filled with fear as she listened to her mother, who was always so full of joy and sunshine, cry her heart out.

‘Mommy..’ she whispered. Drake reached out to take Lily’s hand, guiding her towards them. He slowly let go of Camille as Lily replaced him, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs. Camille let out an anguished sob and sank down to wrap Lily into a tight embrace, holding onto her daughter for dear life.

Lily rested her head against Camille’s baby bump. The baby kicked gently, as if to say she was there too. Camille wasn’t alone. Even though her treasured grandmother had left this life, Camille had her girls and her husband. Even as she cried, she knew that.

She was grateful.

**************************

The Walkers went to the ranch a few hours later as the sun began to set. Armed with boxes of fireworks, Drake and Camille talked happily as their daughters ran along the dirt road to the ranch. Bianca and Savannah followed, arguing goodnaturedly.

As soon as they arrived, Drake instantly went to work setting up the fireworks. Bianca laid out pitchers of sangria while Camille helped Savannah put up the American flag bunting. Lily and Luna sat down on the jetty, looking up at the emerging stars in the sky. Luna rested her head on Lily’s shoulder, content to be beside her older sister looking up at the stars.

‘I wanna see the fireworks,’ she mumbled.

‘Soon,’ Lily assured her. ‘Dad’s getting them set up.’

Luna smiled, satisfied.

They watched as their mom walked towards Drake with the plastic crown in her hands. Drake let out a deep laugh, bowing his head so Camille could place the crown on his head.

‘Dad’s the King of the 4th of July,’ Lily said, smiling lazily.

‘The best king,’ Luna agreed.

***************************

‘Did you see that?!’ Drake hollered, pointing up at the firework that erupted overhead. ‘What a beauty!’

Lily and Luna jumped up and down, whooping and cheering. Savannah and Bartie oohed and ahhed at the pink, yellow and blue fireworks that lit up the night sky. Camille and Bianca stood behind them with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, laughing at Drake’s excitement. The fireworks reflected on his crown, illuminating his features. His eyes were crinkled up in the corners as he smiled widely. He was in his element. He was happy and vibrant and alive.

Drake was the undisputed King of the 4th of July.

*********************

Later, Drake, Camille and their daughters settled down to sit on the jetty. Lily snuggled into Camille, wearing her mom’s fedora with style. Luna sat on Drake’s lap; he wrapped his arms around his youngest daughter, resting his chin on her head as he looked out onto the water.

The jetty had been his favourite place. It still was.

Once it had been a place for Drake and Camille to play together. Then it had become the place where they had lost their innocence to each other as the sun set down on them, casting their bare skin in a golden glow. It had been the place where Drake drank whiskey, celebrating life moments and drowning his sorrows. It had been the place where he and Camille reunited, sharing desperate kisses as they proved their love to each other.

The jetty was now his daughter's place. Lily and Luna spent every summer leaping from it, squealing with delight as they jumped into the lake. They read their books on the jetty and told their secrets to each other. Their skin turned darker as they spent countless hours under the hot sun, enjoying the privacy of the jetty and the stillness of the lake.

So much had happened in ten years and yet the jetty remained unchanged. It would stand for ten years more, and then another decade, welcoming new Walkers to spend their precious time on the wooden boards.

Drake smiled to himself. He felt complete. This was all he needed; his family. He couldn’t wait to see what the next ten years would bring but he hoped he would see more of the good life.

Endless Texas summers. Peaches and suncream. Sunshine and happiness.

#drake x camille

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oldfashionedmoth · 4 years ago

Text

Lonely Voldy

Find me on AO3

Lightening streaked across the blackened sky, illuminating the twisted shapes of trees in the foreground. Rain bitterly thrashed against Lucius Malfoy’s face as he hurriedly strode down the garden path. The sharp pain in his forearm pulsated even more intensely, stirring a greater sense of nervous urgency in his belly. Truth be told, he had been feeling more and more conflicted about his allegiance to The Dark Lord as of late. Narcissa had been so worried about their son, Draco, showing interest in joining the rebellion, and Lucius’ own participation in the Dark Lord’s plans had become a source of conflict in their marriage. Lucius longed for the simpler times, before His Dark Lord’s return. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to steel his thoughts.

“Don’t give him any reason to suspect your reluctance,” he said to himself.

The Dark Lord was very accomplished at occlumency, and any sign of disloyalty would have been disastrous for himself and his family. He could almost taste the passion and vigor with which his master had cast the summoning spell, that made his dark mark glow. He felt that this night was different somehow. So much was riding on this evening going well. His master needed his assistance, and he was going to answer the call.

He cursed under his breath as he approached the obscured house. A series of charms and hexes had prevented him from apparating any closer, and the 5-minute walk in the tempestuous storm had soaked him to the bone. He paused in the doorway, wiped his limp, soggy hair out of his face, and knocked 3 times. The door opened a crack and two beady eyes peered out, warily. Lucius’ lips receded in contempt. “Step aside, Wormtail, before you lose your other hand,” he sneered, forcing the door open wider. Peter Pettigrew retreated into the darkness of the foyer, allowing Lucius room to step inside. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he could see that he hadn’t been the only one summoned by His Dark Lord. To his left stood Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape. That was to be expected. Snape had recently regained The Dark Lord’s confidence, and had become one of his most trusted advisors. He and Lucious had once been good friends, but they seemed to have drifted apart over the years. He thought, perhaps, he would try to re-engage with Snape. Having an ally close to the top could prove to be advantageous to his own position, and in turn put Narcissa’s mind at ease. More surprisingly, Lucius noted that Barty Crouch Jr. was also in attendance. Poor chap. He had become a shell of his former self, ever since that blasted Cornelius Fudge decided to bring a Dementor into the courtroom during his trial. Barty stood now, facing the corner, eyes unfocused and unaware of his surroundings. Such a pitiful waste of talent. He had been a very promising young wizard, and an asset to His Dark Lord, to be sure. It was so sad to see what became of him since receiving the Dementors kiss. The door behind Lucius sharply flung open, and a hulking figure stepped inside. In a swift movement it grabbed Peter by the back of the neck, lifted him to meet his own shadowed face, and grumbled, “I knew I smelled a rat!” Severus sniffed and muttered under his breath, “And. I. Smell. Wet. Dog.” Fenrir Greyback snarled, dropped the sniveling Peter to the floor, and turned to loom over Severus, menacingly. Severus stood his ground, unflinching. A long serpentine hiss emanated from the shadows, breaking up the scuffle. Nagini, The Dark Lord’s faithful boa constrictor, weaved herself around the men’s feet, heralding her master’s entrance. The parlour doors pitched open with gusto as his eminence rushed forward, robes billowing behind him. “Gentlemen, you’re LATE! I expect you have a good reason for keeping me waiting?” Lucius could feel the butterflies in his stomach grow. He hated to disappoint his master. The repercussions could be disastrous. He could sense the others shift uncomfortably beside him, indicating that they felt similarly. No one wanted to be singled out, and on the receiving end of His Dark Lord’s wrath. “Come! We have much to discuss.” Voldemort said, ominously, before he abruptly turned and disappeared into the parlour. Lucius gulped and hesitantly followed the group. They entered the parlour to see six sleeping bags laid out in a semicircle around the hearth of the fireplace. “M’Lord. What. Is this?” Drawled Severus “How long have I known you Snape? Years? Decades even? But do we even really *know* each other at all? What’s my favourite colour, Snape?” Voldemort queried.

“M'lord?” Snape replied.

“My favourite colour. What is it?”

“Green, perhaps?”

“WRONG! It’s crimson! The same colour of the blood of the innocent, whom I shall slaughter, in the quest for ultimate power! See, you’d know that, if we hung out more.” said Voldemort “I decided we needed a bit of bonding time. The six of us. A bunch of dudes, getting to know one other, just, chillin’.”

“And. The sleeping bags?”

“Well, I thought it would be fun if we pretended we were camping. We can roast marshmallows and tell spooky stories.”

Severus, Lucius, Peter, and Fenrir all began to snicker at their Lord’s perceived sarcasm. Barty remained emotionless, swaying in the doorway.

“IMPERIO!!!!” Voldemort exclaimed, waving his wand over his guests. Involuntarily, the men found themselves choosing a sleeping bag and sitting around the fireplace. Even Barty, lumbered into place.

“Sorry about that,” Voldemort said, releasing them from the curse. “I didn’t want to bust out an unforgivable curse, this early in the evening, but my patience runs thin for your reluctance to follow orders! Somebody make me a s’more!”

Peter scrambled to put a marshmallow on a skewer for his master. The others sat in awkward silence.

“Ahh, this is nice, isn’t it?” pondered Voldemort. “It’s been a while since I enjoyed a campfire. We used to have a bonfire quite often, you know. Quirrell and I.”

Voldemort bit his bottom lip, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Ahh, Quirrell. He used to tell the scariest stories! Kept me up at night. Would you like to hear one?”

Barty stared listlessly into the fire. The others exchanged puzzled looks.

“Ok, once upon a time there was a boy named Tim, who lived in an orphanage. One night, he heard a strange noise on the staircase outside his room. Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat. It seemed to be getting closer. Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat. He soon heard the noise right outside his room. Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat. Terrified, Tim hid under his bed. Eventually he could hear his bedroom door open. Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat. The creature waddled towards Tim’s bed. He could see its little toes, coming closer and closer. Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat. Suddenly it bent down and looked under the bed, at Tim. It was a…BABY!!!”

Voldemort jumped at Lucius, imitating a child’s giggles.

Unimpressed, Lucius asked, “Is that it?” as he recoiled away from His Dark Lord’s tickles.

“Yeah. Quirrell used to tell it better than I do.” replied Voldemort wistfully.

“Where’s the scary part?” asked Peter.

“It was a BABY! Babies are terrifying.”

“No. They’re. Not.” retorted Snape.

Barty continued to watch the flames in the fireplace.

“Ok well, what if it was a murderous baby, coming to kill you? Pretty scary then, right?” questioned Voldemort.

“No, babies are pretty easy to overpower.” Said Fenrir.

“That’s what you think!!!” screamed Voldemort. “Forget it! I had enough of the spooky stories. It’s not the same without Quirrell, anyway.”

After a moment of uneasy silence, Voldemort exclaimed, “I know! Let’s make prank Floo calls. I’ll go first!!”

He put on a Deatheater mask to disguise himself, threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, and stuck his head inside. In the flames, the image of Bellatrix Lestrange could be seen.

“M’lord, is that you?”

“Is your muggle food storage device running?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Is your muggle food storage device running?”

“M’lord I know it’s you. I can see Nagini in the background.”

“You better catch it!”

“M’lord, we’ve been through this. You’ve gotta stop calling me like thi…”

Voldemort cut off the connection before she could continue, as he hysterically cackled at his own joke.

“Ok Fenrir, it’s your turn.” He said, tossing him the mask.

“Fenrir smirked and donned the mask. He threw the Floo powder into the fireplace. This time Lucius’ wife, Narcissa, came into view.

“Hello?”

“I want to speak to Amanda Shagg.” He said gruffly.

“I’m sorry, you must have reached the wrong home. There’s no one here by that name.”

“Are you sure? I think you’d know Amanda Shagg, when you see ‘em.”

“No, I don’t know Amanda Shagg.”

“Well look no further, Darling. I’ll be right over.”

“What the Hell! That’s my wife!” Lucius exclaimed angrily. He grabbed his pillow and smacked Fenrir across the face with it. Fenrir retaliated.

“PILLOWFIGHT!!!!” cried Voldemort gleefully. He quickly charmed all the pillows to fly at Fenrir’s face, all at once.

Fenrir emerged from the pile of pillows and feathers, holding his mouth. “My tooth. You knocked my bloody tooth out! It was the gold one too!” He frantically searched, on his hands and knees, for the gold tooth.

“C’mon guys. You’re all being a total snoozefest. You know what we need to liven up the party?”

“Copious amounts of. Alcohol?” asked Snape dryly.

“No. Well, yes, maybe? But no. I was thinking a parlour game!” Voldemort shouted. “Quirrell and I used to pass so many hours together playing games. My favourite was when I’d close my eyes, and he’d hide somewhere in the house. Then, when I opened my eyes, I had to guess where we were. Haha. Good times, good times.”

“M’lord, it’s really getting late. I should be heading home soon.” Lucius said.

“Oh no, you’re sleeping over all night. That’s what the sleeping bags are for,” snapped Voldemort. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to miss us putting Wormtail’s hand in warm water, so he pees himself, do you?”

Peter looked up incredulously.

Barty flopped back into the pile of pillows and stared at the ceiling. “Let’s play Sardines. It’s like reverse hide and seek. I’ll go hide, and you all have to come find me. If you do, you have to hide in the same spot with me, until the last person finds us. Ok, count to 100, then come find me.” Peter dutifully began counting as soon as his master had left the room. Fenrir smacked the back of his head.

“Don’t be such a brown-noser, Rat! Let’s get this over with.” Together, the men set out to find where their master had hidden. Fenrir looked behind curtains; Peter looked behind doors; Severus looked under furniture; Barty wandered aimlessly; Malfoy discovered a dark ebony armoire, trimmed with carved wooden serpents, and decorated with an ornate crystal door handle. Lucius jerked his head towards the cabinet, and gestured to his fellow seekers that they should check in there. “You found me!” exclaimed Voldemort, as the gang threw open the door. “That was quick!” “Good, game over,” said Fenrir, turning to leave. “Not so fast. You all have to hide in here, with me, until the last person finds us.” said Voldemort. “We ARE all here” said Snape. “Nope, Barty hasn’t found us yet. Quick, get in before he sees us.” The four seekers piled inside the armoire. Peter’s head was in Fenrir’s armpit; Fenrir’s elbow was in Lucius’ ear; Lucius’ knee was in Severus’ rear; and Severus and Voldemort stood cheek-to-cheek.

“Something. Smells. Like garlic,” remarked Snape.

“Yeah, some of Quirrell’s old turbans are hung over there.”

“You haven’t gotten rid of them yet?” Lucius questioned.

“No, Malfoy! I just…haven’t got around to it, yet.” Voldemort replied. “W-we aren’t going to stay crammed in here like this, until Barty finds us, are we?” Peter whimpered

“That’s the name of the game, Wormtail. We’re crammed in here like…SAR-DINES!” Voldemort said, chuckling.

Does Barty even know he’s meant to be looking for us?” asked Lucius. “This is. Madness.” complained Severus, “There’s just. Not. Enough room. For five of us in. Here.”

Severus quickly cast an Undetectable Extension Charm, making the inside of the armoire grow in size, while leaving the size of the exterior unchanged. Each wizard retreated to an opposite corner, as far apart as possible, with Voldemort left standing in the middle. “Hey man, that’s cheating,” Voldemort warned Severus, “Good job. I like your gumption.” “I-I think I hear him coming.” Peter squeaked

The others quieted to listen for the approaching Barty. They could hear him shuffling along the floor, and bumping into walls. Fenrir began whistling and PssPssPssing, to draw him in the direction of the armoire. Eventually, Barty poked his head inside the cabinet and commented, “Bigger on the inside,” before stepping inside and closing the door. “Ok gang’s all here. Let’s go.” Fenrir gruffed, reaching for the door handle, which was no longer there. “The braindead fool must have ripped off the door knob!” Bellowed Fenrir, blaming Barty. “Bugger this! I’m not being trapped inside this box with you lot, all night!” He reached for his wand and blasted the doors open. “Alright then,” said Voldemort, “A bit overkill, but ok. Let’s just go to bed then, shall we? Crankypants!” He led his guest back to the parlour yelling “Last one back is going to marry Dumbledore!”

Eventually, they settled into their sleeping bags and turned off the lights. All was still, except for the crashing storm outside. “Hey, Barty. You asleep?” Voldemort rolled onto his tummy, rested his chin in his hands, and kicked his feet in the air behind him. “Truth or dare?” Barty stared blankly at the ceiling. “Alright, TRUTH!" Voldemort continued, unperturbed by Barty’s lack of response, "Who was the last person you kissed?” Barty’s head lolled to the left. “Oh jeeze, was that insensitive? I forgot about the whole Dementor thing. Sorry, my bad!” Voldemort said, “Ok Barty, now it’s your turn to ask someone.” Voldemort placed his hand on Barty’s chin and began moving his mouth up and down. In a high-pitched voice he said, “Snape, truth or dare?” Severus did not reply. “Who do you have a crush on?” Voldemort asked, via his Barty-puppet Snape remained tight-lipped. Peter began to tease. “I know who he used to have a crush on. I bet he still holds a flame for her too. L-I-L-Y!” “Lily? Didn’t I kill her?” Voldemort mused, as he let go of Barty’s head, and grimaced at Snape’s stone-cold face. “Uhh, hey, sorry about that, man. Tough break!” After a pause he continued, “Ok Snape, it’s your turn to ask someone.” Snape hesitated, but thought better of challenging Voldemort.

“Malfoy. Truth. Or. Dare?” “I don’t know. Dare?” Lucius offered, exasperated. “I. Dare you. To. Let. Me. Brew you a potion. Which you. Must. Drink,” Snape suggested. “Very well then,” Lucius replied. Snape got up, entered the kitchen and went to work making Lucius his potion. “Ok” said Voldemort said to Lucius, “Your turn to ask someone.” Lucios sighed and said, “Wormtail, Truth or Dare?” “T-truth,” Peter mumbled. “Are you REALLY loyal to our Dark Lord?” “I, umm, well, y-yes, of c-course,” stammered Peter. “Wormtail knows better than to cross me. Don’t you Wormtail?” Voldemort warned, raising his wand to touch the tip of Peter’s nose. “I, would n-never!” Peter cried, as he shielded his face with his hand; the light glinting off his silver fingers. “Umm, Snape, how’s that potion coming?” Malfoy called out, hoping to break the tension. Severus entered, holding an ornate goblet filled with a bubbling concoction. “This. Will have to. Do,” Severus said “It’s not quite. Finished. But I seem. To have. Misplaced my spoon.” He handed Lucius the cup. Before he could take a sip, the group were startled by a loud *thooonk* “MY HAND!” cried Peter, lifting the empty stump where his silver hand once sat. A mischievous little niffler scampered off with the hand, but not before looking back and flashing a hint of gold in its mouth. “My tooth! The little bugger’s got my tooth!” roared Fenrir, lumbering after the rodent. Fenrir, Peter and Nagini frantically attempted to catch the niffler; crashing into furniture and knocking over knick-knacks. “Drink up.” Severus said to Lucius, with a wink, and whispered more quietly, “Trust me.” Curious, amongst the pandemonium that the fleeing niffler had caused, Lucius took a sip of Severus’ potion. Immediately, a long rattling wheeze escaped his lungs. The feeling of drowning overcame him, and he began to gasp for air. “Oh Darn. I must have. Mixed up the shiitake mushrooms with. The death-cap mushrooms. I seem to have. Accidentally brewed. Death-Cap Draught.” Snape said, to the room. Lucious’ eyes widened in horror. “I have a bezoar. At home. We’ll have to. Leave. Unfortunately,” Snape continued, with a slight smirk. “Oh, if you must!” lamented Voldemort “We’ll have to re-schedule our team building exercises for another time then. I hear paintball is a hoot.” Peter and Fenrir paused their pursuit of the niffler, to gawk at their master.

Severus, stared at him dumbfounded.

Lucius continued coughing and retching.

A single drop of drool fell from the corner Barty’s mouth. “No? How about lazer tag? Less messy.” Voldemort looked at them with an excited grin, “Or I know! How about one of those breakout rooms, that’s all the rage with the muggles? We could go in there and alohomora that shit. We’ll have it solved in record time, and the muggles will think we’re geniuses! I mean, I actually am a genius, but you could be too! C’mon man! What d’ya say??” “Gotta catch that niffler,” Peter and Fenrir say together, edging for the door.

“Must. Be off. Before Malfoy. Bites it.” Snape quips, grabbing a handful of floo powder.

Lucius clutched at Severus’ robes, while panting for air.

Barty’s head drooped to his chest. As the others left, Voldemort approached Barty, sitting on the floor.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me now. Hey pal?” Voldemort said, giving him a nudge.

Barty fell over. Voldemort propped him back up, into a seated position. He placed a marshmallow on the end of a skewer, poked the skewer in the crook of Barty’s elbow, and positioned the marshmallow towards the fire. He then slowly turned, and slid himself down to the floor, back-to-back with Barty. He leaned his head back, to rest against the back of Barty’s head, and sighed. Almost as a whisper, he began to softly sing.

”I am happy as a squirrel, as long as I’m with Mr. Quirrell…”

#harry potter #a very potter musical #voldemort #lucius #professor snape #barty crouch junior #fenrir greyback #peter pettigrew #crack #lonley #slumber party #niffler #truth or dare #sardines

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 years ago

Text

Quick Thoughts on Is This The Real Life or Is This Just A Very Bizarre Fantasy?

• Here are the tags to block if you don't want to see this post on your dash: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs.

• It's...Chapter 10. Often known as the midpoint. I know TRR isn't exactly the most nuanced series out there, but you know what used to happen by midpoints here? Important plot stuff that had buildup and development prior to it happening.

• Funny enough all three chapter 10s so far had something to do with Constantine! Book 1's had him announce he was stepping down and making Liam king, Book 2 had the reveal that the conspiracy against the MC was his idea. And then he actually dies in Book 3 Chapter 10. Now that he's no more, I guess they brought back another asshole dad to take his place.

• PB if you were really in a mood to bring back Bertrand's dad the least you could have done was build it up properly. You had an entire freaking chapter to at least build up on the Beaumont family relationships and issues! Yet all we see is that motorcycle with a hint that never fully gets told and very little besides that.

• Like, the narrative usually takes soooo much time to build everything properly, right? With chapters and chapters of hints? Look at all these things that you built up over chapters and sometimes over books: Liam's issues with his dad...The whereabouts of Savannah...Drake's connection to Bastien...Drake's mom's ranch...Drake's special relationship with his dad...Drake's duel...Drake's secret wedding...oh.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the BizzysChoices YouTube channel

Maxwell: @itsbrindleybinch

Title: The Beaumont Bachelor Bash

Alternative Title: Proof That Drake Is Undoubtedly Leona's Nephew. Even When He's Trying To Be Nice.

• Now Playing As Bertrand.

Wh - what...?

Okay but this is probably a tiny section and then my MC will come and save the day, right? Right?? I mean it's happened before (one of the most recent times we got a Bertrand PoV was in a Chapter 10, in fact!)

• ...how the hell did a motorcycle fit inside THAT BOX?

• I know, I know. It's mentioned time and again that the package is huuuuge. But that's...not the kind of packaging I'd be expecting for something that large. It wouldn't be SQUARE, at least.

• Okay wait. What was Maxwell panicking and stress-dancing about again? Bertrand isn't cottoning on to this plan as quickly as Maxwell/the LI was implying in that text.

• Okay wait so their great plan for the BBBB was...Bertrand putting away his cutlery and..."roughin' it"? Aren't bachelor/ette parties supposed to be catered to the guest of honour's needs?

Or is "something you want" only meant for Savannah? Because Hana actually read up and did research and tried to cater the entire party to whatever Savannah liked - not drag her along for something that wasn't her thing with "expand your horizons!" as an excuse.

• Like me, Bertrand doesn't fully trust his brother-in-law's motives.

• Wait what.

.• Bertrand is getting a new outfit. Oh he's wearing it already. Okay good. Must be free!

•

WHAT. WHAT. ARE YOU TELLING ME I'M NOT SEEING ESTHER FOR THE REST OF THIS CHAPTER

• I am NOT buying Bertrand new clothes. I didn't buy any last book, and I'm not going to start buying them now. Even if I didn't buy him the swanky maroon sweater last book he somehow wound up wearing it anyway in the finale. I'm sure he'll survive and they'll probably let him wear it for free some other time lol.

• Drake leads the boys to a nearby river, hoping to catch some fish that they can cook for dinner later.

• Bertrand gets...a dilapidated fishing pole. While everyone has prepared enough to get their own, perfectly alright ones. Drake is truly from Leona's bloodline, giving Bertrand stuff that'll make his task difficult (remember how she gave Bertrand a really rough horse to the country fair?). "I just wanted you to believe in yourself", my ass. You're doing this for your own entertainment.

• Also wasn't Maxwell organizing this party? Why does the end result look so much like Drake's idea? Or maybe the boys are splitting the activities between each other or something idk.

•

• That's a...puffer fish?

• The funniest option is the choose to grab Drake because Bertrand calls him "the Aggressively Rustic Drake" haha. It means of course that Bertrand will not get a fish but that's okay, Drake and Liam catch more than enough for dinner.

• But if Bertrand DOES catch that big fish his chest is all puffed out in pride and he notices no one else caught a fish as big as his 😄

• You can TELL Liam chose the next activity, because it's so aggressively Cordonian 😂 You need to shoot an apple with a weapon (preferably a bow and arrow, but the game offers you a rifle and an ornate gun as well).

• Of course I went ahead and shot Drake with a rubber bullet. Sorry Bertrand but I'm sure you can get your Knight-Marksmanship and Honorary Defender of the Realm award in a kinder person's playthrough 😅

• It's a nice scene, quite reminiscent of the first half of Maxwell's armoury scene last book, which involves Maxwell and the MC playing the same game.

• Now that we're done with the apples, it's time to bring out the bubbly!

• "This is not my bachelor party," says Drake when a surprised Liam asks him about why there's no whiskey. Coulda fooled me dude I've never heard of people giving the groom a dilapidated fishing pole to fish with for that kind of thing. I mean like more than 90% of this entire plan seems to cater to your tastes more than his.

• Bertrand (about the bubbly): This is from an excellent region of France!

Maxwell: Which one?

Bertrand: ...Champagne.

😂

• It's now night, so time for some...idk heartfelt man-talk or something.

•

It starts out with the main LI speaking about Bertrand and Savannah's relationship, praising them for how far they've come and there is some emphasis on the fact that they have Bartie. This leads the LI in question (if they're there) to talk candidly about their relationship with the MC and their sadness that they aren't pregnant yet.

- Liam: Speaks of how amazing the MC is and wonders if he's putting her through too much pressure on his Queen with the expectations of an heir.

- Drake: Very similar to Liam's, but this time Liam apologizes for forcing them into this kind of pressure and promises to withdraw it if that's what they want. (Liam will allow it, the narrative won't!)

- Hana: Since neither of the women are there, the conversation goes straight into Liam wondering if he did the wrong thing by placing that much pressure on them, and Bertrand reassuring him that both are phenomenal women and any child they bring up will be a worthy successor to the throne.

- Maxwell: From what @itsbrindleybinch was telling me, there's no discussion about Liam's offer or the pressure from him! The conversation is more centered around his fear that he might screw up in parenting...to which his brother has some of the best responses:

Istg when the writers really allow for those two to blossom on their own, the Brothers Beaumont dynamic is fantastic. I loved both responses from Bertrand.

I'm still wondering why there isn't much from Liam about the pressure he's placing on them, though! I mean, Maxwell and his wife are put under the same amounts of pressure so you'd expect Liam to speak up there too, right? (correct me if I'm wrong, because I can't find a full playthrough of Maxwell's route anywhere).

• The discussion slowly progresses into one about Bertrand's love for Savannah and not knowing how to show it properly to her...to which Drake responds that Bertrand needs to SHOW what he feels and maybe do a big dramatic gesture like the ones you see in romcoms (racing through an airport to confess your love, or confessing it while standing in the rain)...lmao I love how big gestures are something Savannah wants for herself but somehow she can't do the smallest things to help Bertrand feel more comfortable in her own damn home.

• Also I need to laugh at how desperately the writers are now trying to show us how "open minded" Drake is LMAO. TRR Drake looked down on his nose on practically all things not macho (including authentic Chinese food and pink cakes) and now they're making it sound like he's a romcom fan and willing to experiment with a tutu.

• Not buying that serenading scene. I didn't handhold Bertrand into telling Savannah about the Beaumont finances, nor did I handhold him into proposing. He did pretty okay without my help so far.

• The serenading scene has two main components (besides the logistics of communicating and then climbing up to her window) - telling Savannah his feelings and then singing to her. The first main options include suggestions from the boys:

Liam: Very sweet and romantic, with the kind of flowery language you would expect from Liam, and that Bertrand feels so comfortable with that he smiles as he says the words.

Drake: Very much, "I was an idiot but now I've come to my senses and I'm the luckiest man ever because of you" which...sure I can put it down to bias for his sister but now it just annoys me when I hear this. Esp during a time when he's claiming he actually likes Bertrand now.

Maxwell: Is just so fucking funny 😂

Bertrand: Savannah, I'm here because you're my...boo???

Maxwell: Trust me! Keep going!

Bertrand: Ahem. You are my boo, and I'm your...okay I'm not going to say that.

Savannah: What are you saying???

• For actually serenading her with a song you can either choose to go sweet and romantic, or you go "sexy", which tbh seems to be the funnier option because most of it is Bertrand muttering MmmMMmMmmm in place of all the sexy parts. Which is funny considering he and Savannah conceived a child atop an office desk of all places way before any of us even got to KISS our LIs 🤣

• Savannah is happy, Bertrand is happy, the boys are all back in the camp where they'll be spending the night. There's a tiny bit of "foreshadowing" in the ensuing conversation since Barthelemy is mentioned, but very much in a "Dad would be proud of you" way. I put that word "foreshadowing" in quotes coz there is very little it gives us, as opposed to how other things that have received foreshadowing were built up.

• Uh oh. BEAR ATTACK. From Kenna's pet-bear-from-Aurelia's descendant. Who somehow ended up in the woods in Texas 😂

• Drake tries to distract the bear, and Bertrand can either join him or go with Liam and Maxwell who are leading the way to an alternative location.

• We're out in the wilderness somewhere, and getting back to our tents is a diamond option. It's a fun diamond option though, and it doesn't involve me doing any unnecessary matchmaking.

• Liam is the strategist who makes a battle plan. Why don't I get to see him do these kind of things in his actual job PB!! Drake "knows the most woodcraft" and will therefore make a good scout, both he and Liam can draw the bear away, and Maxwell's hitherto-unseen present is now their secret weapon. Bertrand isn't sure about this plan but goes along with it anyway.

• Everything goes as per plan, and Maxwell unleashes the "secret weapon": Bertrand's beloved Cavilieri Novanta 9S motorbike. There's a small hint about him having to perhaps give it away or sell it when his father, well, did whatever he did, and Maxwell somehow traced it and got it back. I'm kinda certain that bike may feature in Bertrand's flashback if he's having one next chapter. Bertrand is emotional AND ecstatic, learning again to control his bike and to enjoy being on it.

• The best part of the bear scene, is when he uses his Duke of Ramsford voice and gives the bear the ole what-for 😂

(Bottom four screenshots from BizzysChoices' YouTube channel!)

• Even the bear could not withstand the severe tongue lashing LMAO. Bertrand has the option of ending this...um...verbal duel by telling his furry opponent to tell his children he has been bested by a Beaumont.

• The bear slumps back home in shame, but Bertrand is worried about what other tests Drake has in store. 'Tests?' Drake says innocently.

•

You're forgetting the part where you constantly blamed Bertrand for everything, knowing full well your sister made her fair share of mistakes. Or the part where you pretty much sabotaged an investigation just to stroke your ego about Bertrand getting her pregnant. Or the part where you repeatedly made it clear that you thought he didn't deserve Savannah. Or the part where you made him cluck like a chicken just before he proposed, just so you could have your moment to gloat. Or the part where you would shoot looks at Bertrand if he even so much as hinted your sister wasn't perfect. Or the part where your aunt kept making snide remarks about him, disrespected him, and gave him a rough horse, while you and your mother and your sister stood by and watched. And NOW you claim that the only person doubting Bertrand is BERTRAND?

Yeah. Well...tldr:

• My gosh. The amount of retconning happening here is giving me a headache.

• Like...I like that Drake can be nicer to Bertrand now and that most of the tension is gone. But let's not act like Drake wasn't knowingly adding fuel to the fire before??

• Anyway, the boys tell Bertrand they are proud of him and proceed to sleep in their tents or wherever they've chosen to sleep for the night.

• PB gives Liam the very, very rare chance to remind Drake that he grew up in a palace. Doesn't mean much, but I'm fairly happy.

• FINALLY. Esther's home and I can finally play as her again!

• If you bought the serenading scene, there are a couple extra lines showing Savannah and Bertrand looking super super happy.

• There's an old man at the door.

• BARTHELEMY???

• Neither of his sons even look like him. And it reads as if Bertrand is less surprised about the possibility that Barthelemy is alive than Maxwell is. What's going on.

General Thoughts:

• Alright, so it looks like this week we will be exploring the Beaumont family history, looking into why Bertrand lost his zest for life and ended up taking care of the estate when all this time his father was actually alive, and how the Beaumonts wound up so poor. There had better be a substantial amount of Maxwell because he's not been getting a lot of attention this book.

• I'm wondering if Barthelemy's return will cause Bertrand and Maxwell's insecurities to rise again, and we'll probably need to help them through that or something.

• Looks like the next chapter might have a young!Maxwell scene or Maxwell's first diamond scene, or both? Idk. I can't say for sure because I don't exactly trust the team on these things.

• There were...elements of the chapter that were good, I'll give it that. Bertrand's got an interesting narrative voice. You can tell it's him by the way he uses titles, by the way he speaks when he is proud of something he has achieved, the language itself that is heavy in its bearing. The scenes were fun from what I've seen. The bonding was good. Problem was...in a better book this wouldn't have been so irritating and such a sign of how not into the most important things about this book the team is.

• Since they had the time and the ideas, why the hell was the buildup to this reveal so flimsy and half-baked? I mean if you're going to give Bertrand an entire freaking chapter, shouldn't you have been using at least that space to have Bertrand speak a little more about Barthelemy? Or build it up earlier? All this time we'd had to deal with Savannah's griping and complaining and Leona's snide remarks, we could have spent learning from Maxwell a little about his family.

• Usually buildup to a lot of these things happen through hints over chapters. But this? Little to none. Maybe like two half-sentences said just before the reveal. It's all kinds of shitty, and it's what happens when the most important Beaumont is a Walker.

• I'm also pretty surprised Liam doesn't get to apologize to Maxwell the way he does to Drake about the royal heir thing.

• So the Walker Ranch chapters started around Chapter 6, and might possibly end around Chapter 12 (with a detour to Auvernal around Chapter 9). That's 5 whole chapters + one more to tour the States itself.

• I know the original idea was to do an epilogue book revolving around the Walker ranch, so there's obviously a lot more clarity in those chapters than in the others. But that is still no excuse. If they were going to change track they should have been doing it properly. There's no excuse for this kind of selective laziness especially when it's been manifested countless times before.

• I also find the whole idea of revolving the epilogue book still pretty problematic. At the core of it that would be more of Drake and his family (which was already happening honestly) and it would mean they are absolutely front and center of everything. If the original idea was to focus fully on the Walkers...yikes.

• Yeah honestly, this chapter was pretty iffy for me. And I'm not exactly very enthusiastic about writing for it, or playing the next chapter.

• Also! For those who didn't see it, this past week I'd been working on an essay about the treatment for Kiara and Penelope in TRR Book 3, and it's here below in case you haven't read it and you want to!

To Be Not Heard: Kiara, Penelope and the Question of Validation.

• Alright! On to the next chapter.

If you like it and want to discuss it, I'd be only too happy to read your comments! 😀

#long post #the royal heir #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #bertrand beaumont #maxwell beaumont #king liam #drake walker

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purplebenjy · 5 years ago

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Barlights || AU 2018

“Amycus. Come on. You’ve got to let me in.”

Benjy’s arms cross over his mesh shirt, partially in agitation partially to try to warm himself up.

“It’s fucking cold out here, man.”

Amycus for his part, genuinely looks the part when he sighs and shakes his head.

“Can’t do it, Benj. I know you’re not eighteen.”

Benjy scoffs, his breath turns into a poof of smoke in the air that lights up pink from the Lagoon’s neon sign. It was a seedy, shithole gay bar-and thus the best place for rich closeted men to frequent. If people recognized them, they were either in the same boat or too blitzed to care. And even recognition was difficult inside the club with it’s nearly pitch dark lighting and constant color changing and flashing lights.

Benjy has been going pretty consistently over the past two years, that was, until last week, when someone snitched on him to Oscar. A lot of the other men he worked with were jealous of Benjy’s ability to both appeal to and woo the higher end clients. It was a side effect of growing up in the Black’s various mansions-even if he was just their Show and Tell only foster child. When there were big events, chances for Mr. Black to look good and devoted, they rolled Benjy out, droning on and on about how full he made their lives-their only son. As soon as the cameras left, they went back to ignoring him save for a weekly chore list he had to work on-nevermind the girls never had to lift a finger. Still, even being basically a servant, Benjy had picked up on a thing or two-including a decently posh accent. He had a client tell him one time that paying him for sex didn’t seem as dirty because Benjy didn’t seem as dirty. He still isn’t sure if it was a compliment or not, but it definitely stuck with him. If anything, Benjy has ramped up the poshness, embodying the dutiful doting nature of too many of the women he had witnessed in his foster mother’s inner circle. And it worked.The men ate it up and he was making more money than he ever had before in his life-clearly someone had tipped Amycus off in an effort to try to move in on his business.

“You don’t know I’m not eighteen.” He says easily as he steps into Amycus’s personal space. He’s not ugly-not that that matters anymore- with big broad shoulders and dark almost perfect skin. He’s got some sort of scar that looks like a burn mark on his neck-Benjy bets it’d be sensitive if he kissed it. Amycus’s brown eyes watch him warily as Benjy produces an ID.

“See? Eighteen.”

“According to that, you’re twenty.”

“Yeah.” Benjy says easily, not missing a beat. Lying is so easy at this point it’s basically his second language.

“Benjy, this is an even worse fake than last week’s.”

Benjy sighs, takes a step closer.

“Maybe we can work something out?” His voice is low, his touch soft as he traces the outside of Amycus’s thumb around his fake ID. For his part, Amycus’s breath hitches just slightly.

“I don’t sleep with little boys.”

“Who’s little? I’m twenty-one.”

“Twenty.”

Benjy laughs. “Sure.”

He leans forward and carefully kisses the spot on his neck, smiling when he feels Amycus melt under his lips. That never got old-regardless of who it was or how much he was making. After a few more kisses, Amycus’s strong hands pull Benjy away, resting on the outside of his arms. He’s trying and failing not to smile as he speaks, holding Benjy in place.

“You’re something else.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Amycus’s smile wins out and Benjy smiles back. He is pretty cute. A small part of him wonders if he could push this further-get Amycus to claim him permanently, but he pushes that pipe dream away as soon as it crosses his mind.

“Go ahead.” Amycus says, nodding to the three older men who have materialized out of the shadows. After they enter the club, Amycus turns back to him, still holding him at arm’s length.

“How the hell’d you end up here anyway, Benjy?”

Benjy shrugs as best he can.

“How does anyone?”

He remembers briefly. Andy popping up in his room at 2 in the morning, whisper yelling at him in a hushed voice that Narcissa had seen him kissing his friend Ollie before Benjy got out of his car. How she just told The Blacks-how her father was planning on sending him to some sort of camp in the morning. She’d helped him pack and given him one hundred quid she’d stolen. That first couple of months spent bouncing between shelters and motels and the street, texting Andy when he could find Wifi, trying to survive. He’d found a job cleaning office buildings until his coworker and eventual room mate Gideon showed him just how much he could make on the street. Gideon introduced him to Barty who, for 40% of what he earned, let Benjy stay in the run down apartment building his family owned. Barty, who was expecting a big amount of money from him tonight and would do lord knows what if he didn’t bring it to him.

“Come on, Amy. Please?”

Amycus knew Barty-that was how they ended up at this club in the first place. Amycus sighs, Benjy tries again, speaking quickly.

“It’s not like anyone is gonna call about me being in there-there's too many risks and too much loss for everyone if the Lagoon shuts down. Come on. I won’t even drink. I promise.”

Amycus chuckles slightly.

“You promise, huh?”

Benjy nods really enthusiastically.

“Yep. Hate drinking when I do this anyway. I really need the money, mate. Can you help me out?”

Amycus’s eyes meet his and Benjy knows he’s won.

“When’s your birthday?”

“November. November 23rd.”

Amycus drags his fingers slowly down Benjy’s arms, making him shiver.

“If I let you in-and you don’t drink-and you’re still on the scene by your birthday...maybe I’ll let you pay me back.”

Benjy grins.

“Does that mean I get to go in?”

Amycus rolls his eyes good naturedly.

“Fine. But if you drink-”

“I won’t.”

Benjy closes the distance between them and gives Amycus a sweet kiss on the lips. He tastes like cough drops and cigarettes.

“A taste of what’s to come in November. There’s no way I’ll be anywhere else.”

But Benjy had no idea how wrong he was.

It’s been a relatively good night, and Benjy’s only been inside for an hour. Someone had pulled him into the alley and paid him for a blowjob that had lasted maybe three minutes-easiest fifty bucks he’d made. The man left without looking at him and that had stopped hurting a long time ago. Benjy stands, counting the money again as he put it in his pocket, and heads towards the side door, sneaking back in. A few people leer at him as he makes his way through the crowd, but he’s expecting it. He’s in what he calls his uniform-or one of the versions of it. Black mesh shirt so he can show off the tattoos on his chest-face shaved, his long dark back in a small ponytail with a few pieces springing out to frame his face. He’s got on tight faux leather pants-glorified leggings really-with nothing on underneath to allow the easiest access to his body as possible. Most of his clients liked to fuck him in the alley behind the bar, or, if they were really feeling fancy, the backseats of their luxury cars. He’d learned early on that underwear just got in the way. He has on his old beaten up Doc Martens that were a size too big-easy to slip on and off and also good for a well placed kick if he needed to get away. He’d been lucky in that aspect, though Benjy suspected that had largely to do with Barty and his nearly constant stream of blackmail threats if clients didn’t pay or got too aggressive.

He smiles at the bartender and one of the owners-Alecto-who sort of smiles back. She always gives him shit but she also looks out for all the boys who come through there, kicking out and banning the particularly nasty older men.

“Diet Coke please, Lecto.”

“And?”

Benjy smiles at her. “Ice cubes.”

She rolls her eyes and starts making his drink. Benjy turns around from the counter, his back pressed against the bar as he surveys the crowd.

“Kept your promise, I see.”

The sound of someone else startles him, but Benjy recovers quickly, glancing to his left at the sound of the voice.

And his heart stops.

He’s looking at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s got green blue eyes that sparkle when they meet Benjy’s, perfectly coiffed dirty blonde hair. He’s got the perfect amount of stubble on his strong jawline and the only thing that takes Benjy’s eyes away from that is his perfect, white smile. It feels like the swallows tattooed on Benjy’s collarbone are swooping in his stomach when this stranger licks his lips.

“Uh…” Benjy says, turning himself to fully face this man. “What are you talking about?”

The stranger jerks his head to the front door.

“Your promise. To Amycus. Not to drink. I heard you two talking on my way in.”

Benjy’s eyes must grow wide cause the Stranger’s smile grows.

“Your secret is safe with me, Benjy.”

Oh the way he says his name makes him want to sink to the ground right there, but he resists-he doesn't really get a choice as to when he does that these days. He smiles, still not taking his eyes off of this stranger.

“I appreciate that.”

“Is it short for anything? Benjy?”

Why does it feel like he’s looking through him when he talks? And why is Benjy desperate to know what he sees?

“Uh, yeah. Benjamin.”

The stranger hums, finally looking away when Alecto puts a drink down beside Benjy’s still untouched Diet Coke.

“I like that.”

“Then you can call me it.”

The stranger smiles as he takes a drink of his gin.

“You’re pretty adorable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

Benjy grins when the stranger laughs.

“God, you’re a touch cheeky too? It’s almost unfair.”

Benjy takes a sip of diet coke to wash the taste of his last client out of his mouth.

“What’s unfair, handsome?”

“That I have to go through a few hoops before I get to have you.”

Benjy smiles, looking over at him as he slowly creeps his hands towards the stranger’s, not speaking until Benjy’s fingers dance along the back of his palm.

“It’s probably not as many hoops as you think.”

The stranger chuckles.

“How much?”

Benjy shrugs one shoulder. “Depends on what you want, honey.”

“To take you home.”

Benjy stills and he knows the stranger can sense his hesitation.

“I uh, don’t think you could afford it. If I go home with you...I lose a whole night of work.”

“How much?”

Benjy laughs at that.

“Cute.”

“I’m serious.”

Benjy looks in his eyes and his blood runs cold with excitement. He is serious.

“Um…” He chuckles. “Well, if I was having a good night...”

“I’d say you are.”

“...then I’d make about two grand.”

The stranger nods.

“So we’ll call it three?”

Benjy laughs, not believing him. The stranger opens his wallet and pulls out the biggest stack of hundred pound notes Benjy has ever seen. He counts out three thousand worth and puts it gently on the counter in front of him.

“Believe me yet?”

Benjy stares at the money, dazed.

“Uh…”

“You’re not forgetting about my commission, right Benjy?”

Barty appears out of nowhere, sliding up behind Benjy and draping his arm over his shoulder. Benjy stiffens.

“No…”

“Hello, Crouch.” Forest says easily, and Barty quickly removes his arm to stand up straight.

“Everly. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

“A few.”

The stranger, Everly, says coolly.

“Look, you’re interrupting something here. What’s your commission?”

Barty’s hand appears on the small of Benjy’s back, gripping his skin so hard that it stings. Benjy gets the message-shut the hell up.

“Fifty Percent.”

With a shrug, Forest counts off fifteen hundreds and pushes them into Barty’s chest, sweeping Benjy off his school and collecting the money on the bar in one movement as he stands.

“Fine. Now sod off.”

Benjy is shocked when Barty doesn’t argue, disappearing into the crowd. Everly’s hand moves off of Benjy’s back for a moment and hands him the money.

“What do you say?”

Benjy is stunned beyond words, something that never happens. Carefully, he takes the money, folding it as much as he can to put it into his back pocket. It’s so much money, money he can’t even imagine-even if he did make two grand tonight, Barty would’ve taken a chunk of it. And it was handed to him by a man who he’d easily go home with of his own accord if he had any left. Everly smiles at him softly as he keeps ushering Benjy out of the bar. Benjy doesn’t speak until they’re past Amycus.

“Um-as excited as I am, there’s a lot of men back there who wouldn't have cost you four thousand five hundred pounds.”

“But they aren’t you.”

Benjy laughs.

“What’s so special about me?”

Forest beeps the unlock button on his Jaguar and then opens the passenger side door for him. Like a gentleman. Who the hell was this guy? That scared Barty enough into silence, that threw money around like it was nothing and opened doors for him? Benjy’s instincts tell him Everly is powerful-but he’s not quite sure if he’s safe. But Benjy decides three grand is worth the risk. Maybe he likes to choke and hit during sex-not Benjy’s thing at all for for three thousand pounds? He’d do about anything.

“Do you always question your...suitors like this?”

“Most of my clients don’t even want to look at me in the face or tell me their names, so no. Can’t say I do.”

Benjy settles into the seat in silence as Everly gets in and starts the car. Benjy can’t even begin to fathom what it cost.

“Forest.”

“What?”

Benjy likes his smile even more in profile if that’s possible. He watches him as he speaks.

“My name’s Forest. Do you really have no idea who I am?”

Benjy doesn’t say anything for a second, worried he’s offended Forest, but then Forest snorts.

“Bloody hell that sounded pretentious. Sorry. I just figured with Crouch saying my last name you’d uh, you know, put it together.”

Benjy blinks slowly as it dawns on him.

“Everly like….like the deputy Minister?”

“Exactly. That’s my father. I’m sure you understand now why I have to be discrete.”

Benjy doesn’t keep up with politics, but as Forest drives in an easy silence, his mind races, piecing it together. The Everly family has been involved with the government practically since it started. A Dynasty. The Blacks were always excited whenever a member of the Everly family was slated to be at one of their events. There’d been a son, he remembers. Older and handsome. And Benjy was now sitting in his car.

“You still didn’t really answer my question though.” Benjy says softly, breathing in slightly when Forest’s hand moves from the gear shift to his knee.

“What’s your question, Benjamin?”

“Why me? You could get anyone and I’m…”

He doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Next to nothing is the phrase that comes to mind. Trash is another.

Forest looks over at him as he takes a turn.

“I like people who keep their promises.”

Benjy tries to keep his cool when he follow Forest into the elevator, but he knows he’s fighting a losing battle when he pushes the lift button for the penthouse.

“It’s so posh.” He mumbles, shifting between his feet, suddenly feeling a tad out of place. He relaxes the second Forest holds his hand.

“Nothing to worry about, love. It’s just gonna be me.”

Benjy nods, smiling despite his nerves at how good Forest’s hand feels in his.The doors open into a beautiful, clean, white apartment. Decorated minimally but still somehow inviting. Forest, still holding his hand, leads Benjy across the hardwood floors towards an all white conversation pit.

“Get comfortable. Do you want something to eat?”

Forest looks about as in his element as he could be, while Benjy’s black outfit makes him quite the contrast. Benjy pauses as he gets settled on the couch.

“Um...no, I’m okay. I don’t like to eat before uh, I do my job.”

He blushes and he’s not sure why. Nor why he’s being coy-Benjy’s been on the streets for almost two years-why is he acting like a fucking virgin?

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Benjamin. What do you want to eat?”

Benjy stares at him, eyes wide as his brain races, blurting it out before he can stop himself.

“Why not?”

Forest laughs, moving something around the kitchen. Benjy watches as he pulls out and pours one glass of wine.

“Clearly you don’t know me well. And I intend to fix that. You’re underage, Benjy. And I can’t be with you that way in good faith while that’s the case.”

“So you don’t want to have sex with me.” Benjy says, not even failing to hide his disappointment. Forest chuckles, bringing over a cheese plate and a glass of wine for himself.

“Oh, quite the opposite. But not while you’re still seventeen. Come on. Eat something? You look hungry.”

He was starving, he’d skipped lunch, but Benjy still doesn’t move towards the plate.

“So what are you going to do to me?”

Forest looks at him, his face softer but his eyes almost dangerous.

“Well I was hoping you’d talk with me.”

“And what else?”

Forest laughs.

“Eat maybe?”

“But what’s the catch? What happens after?”

Forest shrugs. “You can sleep here if you’d like. Though I’m afraid we’d have to share a bed. There’s no catch, Benjamin. I just want to get to know you. You’re beautiful and you’re interesting and I just...have a feeling about you.”

“You shelled out 4500 pounds because you have a feeling?”

Forest smiles, taking his hand again.

“It’s a really, really good feeling.”

They talk for hours, learning so much about each other. Benjy realizes he’s never told anyone the full story about what happened to him, but he tells Forest. He listens. When he gets choked up, Forest takes him in his arms and pulls Benjy so he’s sitting sideways on his lap. Nothing sexual, just close. He holds him and he lets him be sad. Benjy can never remember ever feeling as safe as he does then. He listens to-about how hard Forest struggled, how when he told his dad he might be gay he beat him until he almost died. And how after Forest had left the hospital-the papers had reported it as a motorcycle accident-he was sent to the camp that Benjy had been supposed to go to. Changed, tortured and broken, Forest had done everything he was supposed to, and the second he got the chance, pretended to be ‘cured.’

“I’ve made a big enough name for myself now.” Forest says, handing Benjy another slice of the massive pizza they’d ordered once Benjy finally agreed to eating something. “That I’m able to have some fun again. And when I saw you tonight I just….knew.”

Benjy blushes, warmth spreading up from his chest and coloring his cheeks.

“You’re going to have fun with me?”

Forest nods.

“Not the kind of fun you’re thinking, not yet at least, I just...you’re easy to talk to Benjy. Maybe, uh, and you can say no of course, but maybe every time I need someone to talk to, I come to you?”

Benjy grins, still on Forest’s lap as he pushes his face into his shoulder.

“You wanna see me again?”

Forest puts his slice of pizza down and takes Benjy’s face in his hands, they’re greasy but Benjy doesn’t care when Forest smiles at him.

“I need to see you again.”

Benjy leans into the feeling of Forest’s thumb caressing his cheek, savoring the moment before speaking.

“You can call Barty anytime. He always knows where I am.”

Forest scoffs.

“Barty. Please. Benjamin…”

He pulls away.

“I know this is crazy, and I know it’s too fast-but, well, I was thinking if tonight went as well as it did-you could move in here. I don’t-I can’t be here all the time. I have to keep up appearances with my wife, but during the work week I stay here. I can get you your own bed if you want but…”

He plays with Benjy’s fingers.

“I like the idea of you being here. Keeping me company. Telling me about yourself. And I just can’t stand the thought of you being out there-other people touching you...hurting you. I want to help you, Benjy. I want you to stay safe. I can keep you safe. And you can keep me company.”

Benjy’s head is swimming but he feels like he’s floating, not actually believing what he’s hearing.

“You want me to live with you?”

Forest chuckles.

“It’s too fast. I know.”

“You want me to live...here?”

Benjy looks over Forest’s shoulder into the rest of the apartment.

“Do you want to?”

Benjy grins.

“I mean, I don’t know-I haven’t even seen the bedroom-”

Forest laughs and Benjy feels like he’s won something.

“Are you saying yes?”

“There’s really no catch?”

Forest shrugs.

“Well I mean...when you’re eighteen, I would like to explore a physical relationship with you. So I guess that could be the catch.”

“So the catch is something I want anyway?”

Forest laughs.

“You’re supposed to want whoever pays you though, isn’t that your deal?”

Benjy shrugs.

“I would’ve come home with you for nothing if Barty wasn’t around. Here.”

He shifts, digging the money Forest had given him out of his pocket and holding it against his chest.

“I don’t want it.”

Forest shakes his head, pushing Benjy’s hand down.

“It’s yours. Keep it no matter what.”

They sit for a while, quiet, feeling how the fit together. Benjy breaks the silence first.

“If I live here...would I be your boyfriend?”

Forest nods. “Something like that.”

Benjy’s face hurts from smiling.

“I’ve never had one of those before.”

Forest smiles back at him.

“So you’ll move in?”

Benjy nods.

“One condition?”

Forest traces Benjy’s lower lip.

“Anything you need.”

“I wanna-can I kiss you?”

Forest groans.

“When’s your birthday?”

“November. Two months. That’s it but...I can wait on everything else, Forest. I promise. But I can’t wait for this.”

There’s something about his eyes that makes Benjy want to fall in.

“Please?” Benjy asks, surprised at how quickly he’s become desperate. Forest smiles softly at him, somehow wanting and wicked all at once.

“Okay. Once. Then we have to wait.”

Benjy nods as he sits up straighter. Tomorrow, when he wakes up in the big white bed in Forest’s arms, he’s still not going to believe it. He’s going to spend his first day getting used to his new life, take Forest to his apartment building and watch as he covers all the debt he supposedly owes Barty. He’s going to load the meager possessions he has into Forest’s trunk and come back here to start anew.

And he’s going to spend tomorrow, and every day after, ignoring the creeping feeling that he, Benjy, has become a possession in his own right.

But for now, he closes his eyes and seals his future with a kiss, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

#drabble #self para #modern au

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tabithacarlisle · 6 years ago

Text

*OFF THE RECORD: Part 5

*Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters parts 1, 2, 3 & 4 here at the OTR Masterlist

OTR Part 5 Notes & Disclaimers: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :)

Pairings: Maxwell x MC (Tabitha Carlisle), Liam x MC, Drake x Liam - Rates T for teen - extramarital affairs discussed. Some swearing.

Word Count: 3312

*Author’s Note: any time you see text underlined, it’s a link to screenshots from Pixelberry’s Choices TRR scenes, or other chapters referenced from *OTR- click them!! :)

.........

*OFF THE RECORD

by Jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;)

“Oh... great! I love camping... but, what about Drake and Tabitha? Ooh! I know! Maybe we could call up Hana too and ask her to come with us and do, like, a reunion camping trip? Get the ‘Fab Five” back together again for another night of shenanigans? That was so much fun—“

“Perhaps, another time, Maxwell. This time, it’s really imperative that it’d be just the two of us.” Liam walked closer to Maxwell to enable him to speak in a more hushed tone that only Maxwell could hear “We have much of importance to discuss, you and I, that cannot be put off a moment longer. Away from prying eyes.”

And no witnesses... Maxwell shuddered thinking to himself. He took a moment to compose his thoughts to try and find a way out of having to go tonight.

“Oh, damn. Y’know, I just remembered? I didn’t bring my hiking shoes with me. That hike to the campsite is pretty brutal, I don’t think these ‘kicks can cut it.” He held up the bottom of his shoe for Liam to see and steadied himself as he balanced on the other foot.

Tabitha walked by them just then, “Hiking shoes? Liam has plenty of shoes that would fit you, Max. You’re both a size 44, I’m sure he has extra pair of boots that would work out well for you.”

Damn it, Tabz he muttered under his breath.

“I’d be happy to lend you anything you need to make the trip, Maxwell. First, I need to wrap up a few ‘loose ends’ before we depart. Then I’ll see you back down here shortly afterwards, and then we can get going.” Liam smiled and squeezed Tabitha’s hand, waving to them both before he set off in the direction of his offices.

Once he rounded the corner of the hallway, Maxwell let his smile fade as he grabbed onto Tabitha’s arm to pull her into an empty room and closed the door behind them with his back pressed up against it.

“What’s happening now, Maxwell?”

“Oh, nothing?” He whispered loudly back with a scowl “Just that your husband is taking me out alone in the wilderness so he can murder me and get rid of the body without any witness? No big deal! It’s been nice knowing you, Tabz...”

“Wait? Drake isn’t coming with you? That is odd.”

“I know right? Please, don’t let us go alone? There’s got to be some way you can convince him to let you come with us?”

“There’s no way Liam and Mara would let me make that hike in my condition. They’re much too protective of me.” Her hand rested a top of her small ‘baby-bump’ to emphasize her point. “And Liam invited Bertrand and Savannah to stay at the palace tonight for Savannah and I to spend time together. But, you know Liam would never hurt you Max. I know him well enough to know that he cares too much for his oldest friends to let any harm come to you.”

Maxwell whelped, “Oh, sure, ‘no harm,’ not so obviously, anyway. But a quick “accidental” shove off the cliff into the ocean below and he’ll have a convenient excuse to explain away my untimely demise! This is not going to turn out good, Tabitha! Didn’t you see how he snapped at Madeleine’s earlier? And the dirty look he gave me when your nurse said— He’s been holding it all in and he’s just been waiting for just the right time to unleash his real anger on me!”

Tabitha steadied Maxwell’s arms at his side “Maxwell! Breathe.” She reached up to smooth his hair and cup his jaw, looking intensely into his eyes before she spoke again. “I’m sure Liam just wants to talk over... things ... with you, but let me go talk to him first so I can make sure you have nothing to worry about? All right?”

She could feel him begin to tremble underneath her hands. “But what if it’s not that he wants to hurt me physically?” Maxwell’s voice cracked in a soft whisper “What if he’s taking me there to demand that I leave and never see you again?” His eyes welled up with tears as he spoke.

“No, no. No, he wouldn’t do that. I told you I wouldn’t let him. He can’t. Maxwell, I’ll go talk to him now. Go pack your things, it’s all going to be...” she took a deep breath before speaking again, “We, are going to be fine. You and I, we’re a team. Remember? You said that yourself. No one can keep me from my best friend. Liam has to see that we’re as inseparable as he is with Drake.

“Being kept from you forever would be as close to death as I anything I could imagine, Tabitha.”

She shook her head emphatically. “Not going to happen. I’ve got you, Max” she leaned into him on her tip toes and kissed him desperately to comfort his fears. He let out a quiet sob before kissing her back, clinging to her back. They held each other in a silent embrace like this before she let him go.

“I can talk to him. It’s going to be ok. All right?”

“...Ok...”

“I love you, Maxwell. Breathe. Have faith that we’re going to get through this.”

“I love you, too.”

Tabitha left the room in the direction of Liam’s office.

.....

She found Liam standing behind his large desk in the study, paging through a stack of briefing notebooks when she came to the door. He put them down and smiled at her when he noticed her entry.

“Tabitha, my love. Have you been enjoying spending time with Savannah and Bartie? I’ve been wanting them to come for a visit so that you could talk to someone who’s been through becoming a parent recently and get her perspective.”

“It’s been great to see Savannah and Bertrand again. And Bartie is growing so fast. But I wanted to talk to you first before you leave for camping with Maxwell.”

“Yes I wanted to speak with you before we leave tonight as well. Close the door, would you?”

Liam came round to the front of his desk and leaned against it. He beckoned her to come closer, and wrapped his arms around her. Liam’s hands rubbed her stomach softly and he breathed her in with his eyes closed, savoring her presence so close to him before he gazed intensely into her eyes and spoke again.

“Tabitha, my queen. I... feel as if I already know the answer to this question, as your heart and mine are inextricably linked forever. But, I need to hear it from you directly. Do you love Maxwell? Truly?”

“Yes, He’s become family to me Liam. I don’t know what I’d do without Maxwell being in my life. In our lives. With all my heart, I love him as I love you; as you love both me and Drake.”

He studied her eyes and measured her words in silence before speaking again “I feel as if I’ve known this, for awhile now, but it’s good to hear you say it. There’s been, mistakes, I’ve made, we’ve all made...” he reached “I understand that, our story is unique. And I hope you know I love you more than even my words can ever adequately express, Tabitha. When I said I’d give you the world, I meant it. You have given me, so more than I ever could have expected or hoped from a wife, from a life partner, your understanding and love, and compassion for me, and my friends, knows no bounds. We’ve been though so much together. I want to make this work, I need to make this work,” he paused to rub her belly again “for all of us. There’s only one path that makes sense, and I’m willing to take it for us.”

Tabitha searched his eyes. She knew Liam so well she could feel the deeper meaning behind his words even without him having to clarify his intentions. Still his statement shocked her,

“Do, you mean—?”

“Yes. I, want to discuss these matters with Maxwell first, one-on-one, but we all should talk about the details soon. I’m asking you to trust me.” He took her hand from his shoulders and kissed her knuckles. “If I talk to him about it first, hopefully he’ll understand that this isn’t something that I’m entering into unwillingly, only at your insistence. Will you let me do this for us?”

Tabitha began to weep “Oh, Liam! you always know the right thing to say, and exactly what I need before I even know it myself. This is all I ever could dream or hope for.” She kissed him passionately unable to believe her luck in feeling once again at home and safe in his arms at a meeting of the minds they had been lacking since she had told him about the pills weeks before. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead on hers. “We’re all going to be Ok. We have to be.”

There was a knock at the door. Bastien announced Drake and Maxwell to see them,

Liam called over Tabitha’s shoulder “Send them in, Bastien.”

The two men peeked inside assessing the room before entering

“Drake, I’m going to need you to take care of my darling wife while Maxwell and I are gone.”

Drake scoffed. “You don’t have to ask, Liam. You know I’ve got Carlisle. We’ll be fine here. The real question is if you can handle Maxwell?”

Maxwell’s brow furrowed “What’s that supposed to mean?” he looked suspiciously at Liam and then Tabitha. When he searched her expression for any warnings he found none. Only a tear stained face smiling back at him with undeniable happiness. Her demeanor couldn’t help but begin to set him at ease.

Liam got up to give Drake a quick hug and whispering something to him before letting go. Drake nodded in agreement with his hands in his back pockets.

“I just have to change into my gear and I’ll be ready when you are, Maxwell.”

I don’t think I’ll ever be ready...

.....

“Not much further now.”

“Hey, Liam? You... wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger than water in that backpack of yours, would you?”

“I have a steel growler full of beer for when we get to the campsite. Stick with water for now, Maxwell. Wouldn’t want you to get dehydrated before we make it there.”

Maxwell gulped. Oh, that’s a relief. He wants to make sure I’m healthy and hydrated, before he slits my throat...

“Beer... sounds good! Heh. I was beginning to think that Drake had converted you all into strict Whiskey drinkers. I can’t stand that stuff.”

“You’re funny, Maxwell. Come then, we’ve only got about two and a half more kilometers on this trail before we get there, but I’d like to make it before nightfall.”

...

About an hour or so later when the campsite had been set up, sandwiches had been eaten and the campfire had been lit, Liam and Maxwell sat fireside, with Maxwell waiting anxiously as Liam poured them both drinks into steel tankards from his growler.

“Lythikos’ finest ale. ‘Thanks to Olivia.’ Salut.”

“Salut...”

“Care for a cigar? They were a gift from the Cuban ambassador.”

“Oh, no thanks. Cigars aren’t really my thing? If I were going to smoke anything right now it’d be a joint. Heh. I don’t suppose you packed any of those.”

Liam struck a match and lit his own cigar, taking a drag before he extinguished the match between his fingers. “No... But I‘ll make a note to the palace staff to supply us with some Cannabis for next time.”

Maxwell swallowed hard and coughed, almost choking on his beer as it went down. “‘Next time’?”

“Well, certainly. You and I are going to have to spend a lot more time and get to know each other even better now. For the baby’s sake.”

“Yeah, um... about that... I—”

“Yes. ‘About that?!’ Would you care to explain your thinking to me, Maxwell? What could have ever possessed you to have sex with my fiancée, the future Queen, no less, mere days before her wedding night, without any bloody protection?!”

Maxwell’s last nerve had boiled over. He surprised both Liam and himself with the bravery he was able to muster in response to make his defense.

“Wait... hold up here, your majesty, but you’ve got to understand something! Ever since we brought Tabitha here to compete for your hand in the Social Season, Bertrand put me, directly in charge of procuring her birth control prescription every month. So if I couldn’t get one of the staff to do it, I’d go to the local pharmacies, wherever we were, to pick them up and hand deliver them to her, myself! We’d been doing that for months, the whole time! Through the Engagement and Unity Tours, that was my job on the 15th of every month. I never missed it! How the fuck was I supposed to know that she’d decide to go ‘cold turkey’ right before your wedding?! If she had just told me—”

“I thought she told you EVERYTHING!”

“Well it looks like that one must have SLIPPED HER MIND!”

...

You could hear the sound of the fire crackling and the waves crashing against the cliff. They were both staring each other down. Maxwell was sweating even in the cool night air. His chest heaved as he tried to interpret Liam’s unreadable expression.

“I see...”

“What do we do now?”

“Maxwell, when I told Tabitha that first night in Valtoria about my desire to start our family together as soon as possible... I want you to understand where I was coming from. My father was murdered, not a month before. I’ve now lost both of my parents to assassinations at the hands of political dissidents. Anton and the Sons of Earth weren’t the only ones out there who thought my rule illegitimate. There have been several others. The people of Cordonia have been on edge this last year after Leo’s abdication and my rise to the throne, and marriage to a commoner, and an American at that. It wasn’t a wholly selfish desire to want to have children with her so soon. An heir to the throne would give all of us the piece of mind and added security we need to put our people’s minds at ease. It would help them accept Tabitha as their Queen. The majority of the public love Tabitha.—“

“Who wouldn’t?”

“My opinion, precisely. But in hindsight, I suppose I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on Tabitha to think about needing to get pregnant even before our wedding. There was so much else going on with the stresses of planning the ceremony, gaining support of all of the Noble Houses, and tracking down Anton, and... that was, unfair to her. I’ll admit that. And I was rash to get so upset with her when she told me about how she stopped the birth control before her time with you in Vegas.

“...it’s understandable...”

“What’s done is done now. I can’t help but feel partly responsible for this conundrum. So, I’m prepared to offer a solution that should be beneficial for us all.”

“...What are you saying?”

“Maxwell, Tabitha and I would like for you to ask for Bertrand and Savannah to have personal effects sent from the estate at Ramsford to The Palace.”

“...You mean, just until there can be a paternity test?”

“No, there’s not going to be any paternity tests. Not for a long, long while, at least.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“This is the type of scandal that would rock all of the Cordonian tabloids and history books for ages, Maxwell. The monarchy right now is much too fragile and there’s too much at stake, for all of us, to trust this information to any doctors or nurses or lab technicians. We can’t risk anyone leaking to the press that the Royal Baby’s paternity is in doubt. It would give the dissidents even more fuel for their cause, and I’m not about to let my pride fan the flames of rebellion.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Maxwell, it means that you are coming to live with us. You will be instated as a member of the King’s Guard, just like Drake. Regardless of whom this child shares his or her DNA with, I intend on raising him or her as my own, together with Queen Tabitha. The Prince or Princess will inherit the throne, no matter what laboratory testing will be able to tell us down the line. You in particular, will play a key role in the raising of this child. You, and Drake, will both become Godfathers and you, Maxwell, will officially be named ‘Lord Protector’ of Cordonia. Should anything happen to the Queen or myself while this child is still a minor, you shall rule as Regent until they reach the age of eighteen.”

“Um... wow. I’m... I—That’s a— that’s a lot to take in. I’m not sure what to say?”

“I’m not quite finished yet, Maxwell. In your role of Kings Guard, you shall bear the special distinction of Royal Advisor and companion to The Queen, traveling in her Royal Retinue at the highest position, much as Drake accompanies me on my official engagements. I know Tabitha has a big heart. It’s one of the many reasons that made me fall in love with her so hard and so fast. I’d like to think I know her better than most anyone, besides you, and Drake, of course. I can see how deeply she loves you. Your loyalty to her and Cordonia has never been in question.”

“Except for—“

“No, we’ve all made errors in judgment. Your devotion to Tabitha however, is of no doubt. And, it makes me happy, when she’s happy.”

“Liam, I am... beyond shocked. I don’t know what to say? I told Tabitha I was sure you brought me out here so that you kill me without any witnesses.”

Liam smirked, “Are you mad? Don’t tell me you really believed that?”

“Well, maybe only half believed? Heh. I’m... I’m really speechless though, Liam, I don’t know how you could be so forgiving, I—“

“Just say you’ll be there for us, for Tabitha and this child, with everything you have.”

Through rolling tears of genuine emotion and his voice cracking, “Yes. With everything in me. I will.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Liam pulled him into a bro-handshake and slapping hug. “It’s settled then.”

“You know, I think I could go for that cigar after all.”

“Absolutely. Tonight, we celebrate. Cheers.”

Later, Maxwell zippered up his personal tent and settled into his sleeping bag with more peace of mind that night than he had had since arriving at the Palace earlier that week. He believed, or hoped rather, that he had made the best decision, but was much too exhausted to let it worry him any more.

......

Click Here to Read on >>>> OTR Part 6 :)

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@bobasheebaby @indiacater @brightpinkpeppercorn @ritachacha @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @kate-mckenzie @queen-among-writers @itsbrindleybinch @ao719 @cosigottahavefaith

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#off the record #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #maxwell beaumont #king liam #drake walker #maxwell x mc #liam x mc #drake x liam #otr part 5 #maxwell x tabitha #liam x tabitha #tabitha carlisle #tabithacarlisle fic #the royal heir #maxwell's vegas fling

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neshabeingchildish · 6 years ago

Text

Your Mom

Did not intend to have so many OCs here, but it's a moms-centric chapter and has some other folk you might come across in college - friends, coworkers and stuff. I gave Charlotte’s mom the name Rosemary and Jasper’s mom the name Pansy. Bear with me. Sorry. ILU thanks.

Your Mom

“Are the straights okay?” a friend typed as the caption of a post with a bride grabbing the groom and forcing him into marriage. Charlotte kept scrolling. The straights were not okay for a number of reasons, and that was one of the ones that she didn’t relate to, at all. There’d be no dragging of men to the altar for her. She was almost certain that somebody might have to drag her to one, in order for it to go down, if she was perfectly honest, but she’d lucked out and managed to find a decent man who managed to remake himself into a godsend for her, and she believed it was what she deserved.

Being pampered on her period was one thing, but Jasper’s nurturing was like… constant. He’d figure out that something worked and he would go for it, tried and true and be her rock through just about anything. Some people didn’t like for things to remain the same. They felt like it was stagnant or got stale, but Charlotte hated change. She liked to be comfortable and the rollercoaster of fitting herself into Jasper’s world was one that had been uproarious and uncomfortable. While she hated that he seemed sad that he didn’t have the time to do a lot of the things that he used to, she loved not needing to dress up, go out, small talk or be seen by his friends as a bitch or a buzzkill, interact with people who were way drunker than her, and way stupider, even on their smartest days… Like… She was glad that he was too busy to socialize. But, she also felt bad about it, because Jasper thrived on that energy.

He flourished and blossomed and without it, she was worried that he might wither into his former sadness. SO, she got out of her comfort zone, hated it the entire time and plotted to try to get schedules to arrange a couple’s camping trip with some of his frat bros and their current interests or partners. She felt more comfortable about doing something that they wouldn’t be on campus for and able to invite every stoner and wild child in town, but something that she could also enjoy. Nature, hiking, maybe even a little partying by the campfire, or perhaps, they could rent a cabin! She still had to sort the details out whenever she could figure out when schedules would allow it. But, it also meant speaking with his bosses. Now… The tattoo parlour, it was all good. They loved him. He brought a lot of customers in, and a lot of traffic and they considered him like family - he had that effect on people. But, the internship… It was unpaid and he also hadn’t been there for very long. She did some research to figure out who she might be dealing with. She knew that the guy at the firm who took him on was an alumnus of his fraternity, but she didn’t know much else. A little delving couldn’t hurt. This dude’s name is Bart? He goes by Barty? Wait… Bartholomew Buttkiss? She cackled and kept looking. Typical WASP shit. Involved with more companies than he would ever put on the Internet, children looking like they’re about to do The Purge, grandchildren looking like The Village of the Damned. Game hunting (exotic animals, asshole…), golf (eye roll), lacrosse champion… Jazz enthusiast… “Okay… Maybe I can work with this, Mr. Buttkiss.” Charlotte searched through his profiles and through interviews and really put WAY more time into that than she even had into planning the actual goddamn trip! BUT…

She showed up at the firm, around when Jasper usually took a lunch break (when he might have called her), but early enough that she was able to be there whenever Barty was gonna be heading out for golf with a buddy. Don’t ask her how she found that out… She wore a long jazz festival shirt with cute little musical notes leggings and packed a huge basket of treats, including some peach tarts, old Barty’s faves and she came up to the desk as she saw him coming from out of the work area. “Hi!” She said to the receptionist, “Hoping that Jasper Dunlop is available for lunch. I can certainly wait, if he’s not, but I hope it’s possible to let him know that Charlotte is here. I brought some treats for your troubles.” She set the basket on the desk and opened it to let the smell out. “I recommend the peach tarts. They’re homemade.”

Barty headed over to the desk and asked, “I’m sorry, what’s happening here?”

Charlotte smiled at him and offered her hand, “Hi! I’m Charlotte. My fiance is an intern here. I’m trying to treat him to lunch, a little surprise. I brought enough treats at least for a few people.”

“You said that you’ve got peach tarts, huh?” Barty asked and looked into the basket, then helped himself. He made a bunch of obnoxious noises that she almost broke character behind, before declaring, “These are some of the best peach tarts I’ve ever tasted! You made these? Mmmm.” He grabbed another.

“I did! I didn’t know what to make, so I have a selection of stuff here. Help yourself.”

“Jasper, was it? He’s a good kid. You’re his fiance?” He gave her a lookover, and she couldn’t tell if he was judging her or just looking. “I didn’t realize that he was engaged.”

“It’s new. I’m trying to make sure that I’m a good, supportive woman, you know, but you can’t tell a man anything when he’s used to doing things and being successful. I’m trying to plan a camping trip, for instance, and he INSISTS that there’s no way that he’d ever be able to take the time off. He’s never gonna ask for it, so I have to just do what I can and squeeze in these little moments where I can, you know? Gotta make sure that he knows that I love him enough to bake for the office and set up picnics.”

“Are you gonna be a housewife?”

“In this economy?” She asked, and laughed. “No. I mean, he wants to be the breadwinner, but I’m actually one of the top people in my class and already working professionally in my field, lower level things. We’ve all gotta start someplace, right? I’m at Ridgemont Diagnostics…”

“REALLY?” He was impressed. “Are you a debutante?”

“Oh, no… I’m doing all of it on this,” she pointed to her temple.

“Interesting. Well, listen, when does Jasper need some time off? He’s an intern. It’s not like the place will fall apart without him.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s more like he’s just passionate about proving himself and earning his keep. I was thinking definitely a weekend before hunting season kicks off. Him, some of the fraternity guys and their lovely ladies, just taking a break, you know?”

“Of course. Listen, here… what was your name again?”

“Charlotte Page, Sir.”

He dug into his wallet and gave her a business card. “I want to get that tart recipe from you and you can email me when you want to take Jasper away. AND a jazz fan?” He said, noting her shirt, “I didn’t really know that kid had such good taste. His wardrobe is… interesting. Very nice to meet you.” He grabbed another tart and went on his way. It was a few minutes before Jasper ever came out.

He was smiling, in a simple button shirt with a very bright tie which she said, “Hey, F Sized… Stop wearing ties to work. Or wear like… old man ones that your boss might like.”

“He says that my ties are interesting.”

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. But, it was the way he said it.” He nodded and removed the tie. “So… Just so you know, you’re gonna have a free weekend and you, me, Coogie, Snek, and Fisher are gonna go camping.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just wooed your boss for a free weekend for you and the fellas are gonna bring a girl and we’re going camping near the mountains.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you haven’t been able to do anything that you enjoy with your friends, and I knew that I could most likely ask your boss without making it seem like YOU were trying to get out of work. Come on, I’ve got you some maple bacon pies and an extra thick milkshake. It’s thicker than you,” she said and winked at him. Whenever they got outside, she also pinched his butt. “I love that thing,” she said, smiling fondly at it.

Hey, I am taking Jasper on a camping trip with some of his buddies. Can you look at the list of stuff that I’m bringing along and tell me if I left anything off? *Sends list*

Rosemary: Baby, I’ve never been camping before in my life, but I know that you’ve never been ill prepared for anything, a single day of your life. I’m sure if there’s something to think about that you’ve thought about it. Some of that stuff, I wouldn’t have even thought of.

Adanna: Friend, I think that you’re overthinking your relationship every since the ring. You know what’s best for yourself and Jasper. You’ve known for years, from what he’s told me and his dad. He thinks that you’re the smartest person alive and the most caring. Just trust yourself. You don’t need to ask us these things.

Charlotte: I just have never thought that I would ever be a fiancee or wife and it seems like I have to, idk, do something above and beyond? No?

Rosemary:You think that I’m over here going above and beyond? Honey, your dad is lucky if he gets my best as exhausting as it is to live with a man. As long as you love him, that will show up in how you treat him and what you do. There doesn’t need to be extra stuff…

Charlotte started another chat, with just her mother and Adanna: Okay… but, Jasper has a very rocky childhood and his family wasn’t really very loving, so I feel the way that I feel because I feel like I have to still undo some of the programming he’s had of what love is. I’ve sent him “I love you” messages before he goes to bed, every single night for almost 4 years now, just to try to get it in his mind that who loves you is the person who does nice things for you and to you. I have reminders in my phone to give him compliments, just as a self esteem booster, even though I know he gets plenty of fan love or whatever. I just… wanna do this right, you know? I didn’t wanna say all that in front of his mom.

Rosemary: Would she even care?

Charlotte: I don’t know, but he would. That’s his mom. He’ll always love her, no matter what.

Rosemary: I dread my grandchildren being exposed to somebody like that.

Adanna: Why don’t you have everyone over and try to speak with her about the things that are unresolved?

Charlotte: Like… everyone? Why not just you and Mom?

Adanna: Sure, that sounds good to me.

Rosemary: I’ll do anything for you, Charlotte. She’d better watch herself…

She planned it for after the camping trip, which was fine. She wasn’t super excited to spend time with Jasper’s friends, but somehow, they were all so much more bearable than they usually seemed. Maybe everyone was growing up now, but not too much. All the ladies kept asking about wedding details and Jasper loved dishing about that, while Charlotte just kind of smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know half this information and sort of having to bond with the fellas anytime it started up. “How’d he finally convince you?” Fisher asked. “I wanna know what to avoid.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. He simply clanked his beer bottle against hers and took a drink.

“I’ve known for a while that I’d be with Jasper for a long time, if he remembered that I care, and he eventually did.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her rose beer (which was the only beer that she drank); she was a wine or daiquiri girl.

“Well, he initially told us whenever he first mentioned you that you were the woman he wanted to marry. I’m talking when we were pledging. He was all stressed out and sweaty, worried about the amount of time and energy he had to put into pledging. I thought he was crazy, but then we saw you and I was like, Ahhh, I get it now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“That you’re hot,” he said and smiled. She pursed her lips and looked at him. “What?”

“You’re the dude who had everyone calling me Warden Page freshman year!”

“So?” She scoffed and shook her head. “Anyway, when are you two getting married?”

“Probably after senior year. I’ll still have some studies, but by that time, Jasper will probably be restless being a fiance and want to get the official stuff done.”

“When you say senior year, you mean like after next year, or after Big Dog gets the rest of his credits?” She looked confused. “With the whole major change thing…?”

“Oh! Oh, that!” She had no idea wtf he was talking about, “Yeah. Probably after THAT. The whole major thing…” She stuffed the bottle back into her mouth, finished and said, “I’m gonna go to the cooler for another. You need one of yours?”

“Yes, please, Warden Page.” She narrowed her eyes but was smiling gently.

Charlotte waited until after the trip to ask Jasper, “So… what is the whole major thing… something with your credits?” He thought for a moment, then realized that they hadn’t discussed this yet and also that someone must’ve brought it up.

“Okay, I meant to talk to you about it, but I hadn’t figured out how to, just yet.”

“Why not in the same way that you told your bros?” She said, with a tight smile, trying not to be angry. Whatever this was, they could handle it.

“Well, I told them because I didn’t know if I’d need to stick around and live in the frat house for a little longer, because I switched to a double major and might have to add about a year, probably less! To… to… my transcript…” He looked so worried that she was going to be upset with him, but she was relieved. She didn’t know what she thought that he’d say, but she thought it was about to be awful.

“Okay. Well, next time, please talk to me about things like this. Why… Why don’t we just… Maybe get an apartment together or something? I know that you’re at mine a lot already, but it’s a little small for you to you know, move all of your things in.”

“I’d prefer that we waited until after I’m done with school.”

“Okay… do you also wanna wait until then to get married?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the responsible thing to do, right?” He gave her a half smile, tentative, like he was really waiting on her to answer him.

“Right… But, also… if you’re reconsidering… I get it… I’d you know… understand…”

His eyes grew wide, “You’d understand? I wouldn’t understand that at all. Why would I have second thoughts about being with you?”

“I don’t know. You just were super excited and ready to marry me ASAP, and now, you’re going to school longer, don’t wanna live with me AND want to prolong the wedding date.”

“I don’t want any of those things. I’m trying to make sure that I’m doing right by the woman who says that she’ll have me for the rest of my life. That’s something I take more serious than anything else. We’re gonna be a family, build a family… I’m not gonna build it on immature mistakes and hollow hopes. I’m… trying to do the work to be good enough.”

“You’re beyond good enough.”

“Good enough to feel good about it all. If we get an apartment and I have to cut corners somewhere, or accumulate debt or something - that affects us negatively and I just… I’m not doing that. I refuse to do that. I’m gonna be a good man, but also a real man.”

“You’re already that, Jasper. Never forget this, please?” She gave him a hug and kissed him on the chin, then grabbed a handful of butt. It was right there, so she kinda had to.

“I appreciate the level of butt stuff that I’ve gained by proposing,” he said and pulled her in by hers to kiss her. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She’d been playing on that donk since year one… She used to bounce stuff off of it.

Henry had the pleasure of bringing Jasper’s mom to Charlotte’s. Rosemary and Adanna rode together and pulled in shortly before Henry did. Henry and Jasper rushed to hug each other upon his arrival and Henry had a huge binder with material, colors, etc… stuff that you just wouldn’t be able to see very well on the computer or phone. He said he’d go say hi to Char and Jasper smiled towards his mother and said, “Thank you so much for coming. It really means a lot to us that you made the time.” She nodded, but didn’t offer anything else. But, whenever Rosemary and Adanna got out of Adanna’s van both women squealed happily and rushed to hug him.

Charlotte sighed from the window as Henry came in and looked over her shoulder. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

She shook her head, “She didn’t even try to hug him. Everybody hugged him BUT her. This is the type of stuff that I have to help him through. She doesn’t even TRY! Why have a kid?”

“At least she only had one.”

The others came inside and Adanna immediately placed her hand over her heart, “I love the energy in this place, so much.” Rosemary hugged her daughter, then Adanna and Charlotte pulled Pansy into a hug, whether she wanted it or not. Jasper wrapped his hands around Charlotte’s waist from the back and said, “Let me know if you need anything.” He kissed her on the cheekbone and said, “I’m gonna look at this wedding stuff Hen’s got.” Lady and Tramp came running out of the bedroom and Jasper called them over to him, and he and Henry each grabbed one and went out to the patio with them and their stuff.

“Want a drink or anything?” Jasper wondered.

“What have you got?”

“Juice or like all kinds, water, and I’m sure Char has some wine and rose beer.”

“Rose beer? That sounds gross. Is it gross?”

“No idea. I don’t drink, Man.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I know you don’t drink, but you haven’t curiously tasted it or anything?”

“Naw. I don’t need to put that shit in my body,” Jasper said, petting Tramp’s head. Really, he was afraid of drinking. What if he had a problem with it, like his dad? He wasn’t gonna risk Charlotte the way that Jack Leigh had risked he and his mom. Speaking of, he glanced into the living room to see Charlotte inviting the ladies to be seated and letting them know what refreshments she had available.

“There’s sweet potato bites, varying garnishing like avocado, tomato and radish sprouts, or ricotta, cranberry walnut… I couldn’t decide which recipe was better. There’s also cucumber wrapped chicken or seafood with greek yogurt dip… some fruit, and Jasper’s got some goat and lamb in the kitchen… for dinner, with the sides and stuff. Anyway! There’s also spritzers.”

“Charlotte, relax. Have a seat,” Rosemary advised. “We’re not hard to please. We’re here to support you, not for food.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She sat down and asked Jasper’s mom, “How are you? How was the drive?”

She looked put on the spot, but answered politely, “Henry drove. It was fine.”

Charlotte nodded and smiled, then sat back in her seat. “Jasper took off tonight from the parlor, so that he and Henry could catch up, but he’s probably gonna pop in and out of here, just because he worries a lot. I’m thinking of suggesting that he moves on up to an in-person therapist. He’s been doing the therapy text service for years now and I think it’s been super helpful, but I really think that he could benefit more from someone face to face.” Pansy squirmed a little, but she didn’t say anything. “For instance, he told me that he just wants to get everything right, he doesn’t wanna get a divorce or remarry or anything like that, so he’s tacked on some more courses and we’re not going to get married or officially move in together until after that’s done.”

“That sounds like a wise choice!” Rosemary offered.

“It is, but it's not Jasper, you know? He’s impulsive. He’s very take action. He doesn’t usually plan it out this way.”

“That’s your influence, Sweetheart. Be proud of it.”

“I just really want us to be married already!” Charlotte said and was embarrassed after she did.

“Oh my God… Are you pregnant?” Pansy sat up abruptly and asked.

“What? No! I have a perfect GPA and educational and career trajectory. If I get pregnant, it’s gonna be on purpose, even with your son’s virility.”

Rosemary recoiled, “What does that mean?”

Casually, Charlotte said, “Oh, I took a sample from him to test it in the lab. He is extremely fertile. We won’t have any issues whenever we’re ready to create children… I just really love him and ever since he proposed, all that I can think about is what it’s gonna be like to be his wife. I know that isn’t very feminist, but he’s the kind of person that you just know will be excellent at these things. I’m slightly impatient about it and now it’s being pushed further away.”

Rosemary smiled and told the others, “I know what’s happening here. Whenever Jasper proposed, Charlotte’s brain plotted out a timeline of events and she maybe even made a vision board shortly afterwards to factor in that she now was gonna be a wife, and she’s made the adjustments and committed them to memory. She likes comfort and a huge change is making her uncomfortable, therefore, anxious. All she needs is a new plan of action for her timeline, but she does not like to have to change plans.”

“Mom, I am VERY versatile. I’ve had to make a lot of adaptable changes at work.”

“Changes that affected your home life?” Her mom asked. Charlotte frowned and grabbed a sweet potato. “Thought so. So… where do things change, on your last timeline?”

"I THOUGHT that I was getting married in less than a year… but now it's closer to two years."

"Have you told Jasper about how much you want to marry him sooner?" Adanna asked.

"No. I could tell he was serious about the route that he wants to go and I wanted to make sure that I don't persuade him into anything that he might resent me for later. He's very… afraid of making mistakes with serious stuff. I can't pressure him knowing how scared he is of failing."

"You don't pressure him. I'm suggesting just telling him how you feel."

She looked at his mom, "What do you think about it?"

"I think that kids get married so quickly these days and then they just fall apart. It's better to wait." Rosemary rolled her eyes and Pansy quickly tacked on, “I did the same thing and it affected my only child for the rest of his life and affected my life, too. So, I’m just throwing caution into the wind. Be sure that it’s what you are willing to do, not just what you think that you want.”

“My daughter makes good decisions,” Rosemary said.

“I’m sure.”

“What do you mean, “I’m sure?” Rosemary asked, her eyebrows up in challenge.

Pansy sighed and said, “She makes good grades and what-have-you. I don’t doubt that she’s a smart girl. I also know that being smart isn’t the only qualifier for being a good wife or good partner…”

“What are the other qualifiers on your list, Miss Pansy?” Charlotte asked and Rosemary leaned in closer, with pursed lips staring almost directly into Pansy’s face. Charlotte tried really hard not to snap, but since BEFORE she and Jasper were together, when she hadn’t even been a consideration, this woman had an issue with her and she was convinced it was because she was too brown for her liking, but she wanted to hear her admit to something, since they had the air and opportunity.

“Well, you have to be willing to put up with a lot. Jasper is very needy and demanding. You’ve gotta have a lot of patience. He’s sweet, but not the smartest boy around and can haphazardly jump into unwise decisions. He wants a lot of attention and validation, and can be extremely exhausting about it…”

“Ever think that was because he was starved for those things?” Charlotte reflexively asked. Pansy gasped and Rosemary snorted. Adanna covered her mouth with a hand, but didn’t react beyond that. Charlotte was there, now. The woman had taken her there. “Listen, I can’t say that you made bad decisions. I don’t know your heart or your mind. I don’t know your intentions. What I can say is that I know Jasper. He’s NOT needy and demanding. He wants someone to show him love and he deserves that, so to me - that isn’t a burden. He’s VERY smart. But, he doesn’t know everything. He was semi-sheltered and didn’t have a frame of reference for a lot of stuff, but whenever he had the chance to go out into the world and learn and experience things, instead of having conversation topics and true facts withheld from him, whether out of misplaced protectiveness or shirking uncomfortable responsibility - Jasper is an all A student who is seen as an activist in this town. He’s a community leader. He still has weird ideas sometimes, but he’s also helped reformed a lot of things around here that a lot of these people didn’t have the drive or the heart to ever face head on and try to tackle. And it isn’t exhausting that he wants lots of attention and validation. It's heartbreaking, because I know for a fact that he didn’t get it from home and I know that I have to be one of the most present and stable suppliers of it, because even though he’s shown everyone that none of the things you just said about him are accurate, you still treat him that way, and your his mom, the person that he would most want to treat him how he deserves to be treated. He has to get that from Internet fame, from campus popularity, from town celebrity, and whenever he comes home to me, it still wasn’t what he was looking for, because he wants it real, from somebody that he loves. Currently, that’s me. I’m that supply. We’ve been together almost 4 years now, and you have yet to tell him that you’re proud of him, or that he’s made a good decision, or that you LOVE him, WITHOUT invalidating it shortly after with some contradictory behavior. You have yet to tell him that you’re happy for him, for winning competitions and trophies, and making dean’s lists and having a hand in public policy reform. Are you… a fucking soulless monster?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. Rosemary was ready to fight, now. Hurting your own child was bad enough, but now she had spread her malice to Rosemary’s child and that wasn’t something that Bolton folk tolerated.

Jasper had peeked into the room and saw Charlotte’s face and told Henry he’d be back. The woman turned whenever the patio door opened and Jasper threw a pissed off glance in Pansy’s direction, certain that whatever was wrong with Charlotte, she was the cause of it. “Babe, you okay?” He asked, in a gentle tone and went right to her, collecting her hands and trying to get her to make eye contact with him. “Come on, let’s regroup, okay?” He helped her up and brought her into the bedroom. Their mothers began to quietly bicker about what had just happened and what had been happening. Jasper sat Charlotte on the bed and told her, “If you want her to leave, I’ll go tell her to leave, right now. No questions asked.” He cupped her cheek. “She can hurt me all she wants, but I draw the line at her hurting you. You do too much and you don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t either.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But she’s your mom and you love her? But, what? She raised you? At least she was there? Please, help me understand why she’s so important to you that she gets to hurt you for 22 consecutive years and be brought along with you while you try to break out of the cocoon of that strife?”

“I… will let her go, if that’s what you think I should do.”

“I don’t… That’s not what I’m trying to do - make you feel like you need to let your mom go. I just want to understand it.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well… I want to know that I did everything in my power to make sure that she felt like I was worth it. I want to feel like IF I ever did have to leave her behind, there was no other choice. I just don’t like the thought of leaving somebody behind just because they’re not who you’d want them to be. She didn’t do that to me. She kept me close, and she could’ve given me up. She let relationships fall apart whenever her husbands didn’t want me. She… wasn’t perfect, but she tried. I think that she’s been hurt, too. And she doesn;t have anybody else to tell her to contact a therapist, or focus in hard on loving her, and trying to build with her… I’m it. I’m all that she has. My stepdad doesn’t even look at her anymore. I know how it feels to have people around and still feel lonely. I don’t want that for my mom, no matter if she’s not nice to me. No matter if she might deserve that. Because, what if she doesn’t? What if there’s something that we just don’t know and she doesn’t know how to tell us? I just… don’t want to hurt anybody like that. Not even her.”

“But, you would, if you thought that was what I wanted?”

“I would do what was best for you, if I had no other options, yes.”

She sighed and shook her head, “I’d never ask you to sacrifice your morals. I just hate that those are what brings you pain.” She cupped his face and they kissed. As though kissing could release every bit of stress and turmoil carried into the room and nothing else could. It was a moment before Jasper noticed that they weren’t alone. He broke the kiss and turned to stare at his mother, who was staring at the ground. Charlotte’s eyes followed, then she rolled them and got up to leave. Pansy caught her wrist, gently, then quickly let go.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. That was new. She let go of Charlotte and looked up at Jasper. Charlotte stuck around. “I should have been better to you, for you. It’s entirely possible that I resented you, because of Jack… That’s not fair and nobody ever wants to admit it. We want to think that we did our best and that we were good parents. We make a ton of excuses. Mine being, at least I was around, at least I wasn’t a drunk who almost killed him in car, at least I didn’t hang out with potheads and shady musicians and witches!” Jasper was speechless. She came into the room and sat next to him. “I hated your father. I still hate him. Whenever I agreed to let him see you, I hated it, but it seemed like what you wanted, so I tried. He was cordial. He seemed like he was changed, like he was trying… then he showed up one day with this WOMAN who he’d met through Roscoe Bolton, of all people!”

“You mean Adanna? The nicest woman in the world, who he met through Uncle Rox, the coolest dude in the world?” Jasper corrected her.

“I mean Adanna, who I recognized as a woman who built up a witch shop on her marijuana revenue, who he met through one of the only people that I’ve ever hated as much as Jack!”

“Wait. You hate MY uncle? Everybody loves my uncle, and it doesn’t make sense to me because he’s always been kind of a wreck until a few years ago, but what did you have against my uncle?”

“He wasn’t good company!” Pansy practically squealed. “He didn’t make Jack do anything, so it’s not like I blame him for Jack’s discrepancies, but first of all, he was a shady musician, always convincing Jack to come with him on tours for weeks, despite knowing that he had a pregnant wife at home who needed him…”

“You also needed money and Dad’s job wasn’t making enough. Those tours were!” Jasper fussed, defensively. She’d hit a nerve bringing Uncle Rox into this, especially after whatever she’d done to upset Charlotte.

“I would have preferred to struggle a little bit than to be lonely and depressed while I was pregnant. And Roscoe kept introducing him to women, who like I said, it’s not his fault, but why even do so? Just remind him to call me. Why is it so hard to just say, ‘I know we’re touring, but don’t forget why you’re doing this?’ You know why? Because he understood, like Jack did that the only reason he married me was because of you and when I saw that he was still communicating with that man and still meeting women through him, I figured he was probably still going on tours, smoking pot, drinking, losing himself in the arms of some pretty thing and trying to clean up for his visits and I-” She clenched her fists. “I wasn’t going to be that stupid anymore. I didn’t expect to take my anger out on you. I didn’t expect to treat you like you were Jack and I didn’t expect to treat your friend like she was Roscoe, but whenever I saw the two of you together, all I could think about were the nights that all I got was a drunken phone call asking about my son, who I was at home with, by myself, stressed, depressed, infuriated and barely holding it together, while he partied and drank and couldn’t hold down a decent job to save his miserable life. You came home one day, and said that you met this cool dude, your friend’s uncle. You were so excited to meet him and you thought he was so cool and looked up to him and I knew who he was and I told you to stay away from him. You ignored me. You never ignored me, but you did… Like your father.”

“Okay,” Charlotte interrupted, sick of this, “I get that. I would be extremely pissed off at people who affected my life in that way too, but Jasper didn’t do that to you.”

“I realize that. I’m not making any excuses. I’m just… trying to… open up to my son…”

Charlotte sighed and said, “Okay. Jasper, I’m gonna be out here, if you need me.” She didn’t want to hear any more of this, but Jasper looked worried about her leaving. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“Please?” He asked, in a low voice. She returned to his side and wrapped her hands around his, looking at his crying mom with zero sympathy. As far as she was concerned, the woman was turning things around and what she just needed to say were a few things: I was wrong. I’m sorry. You deserve better. I will do better. Charlotte didn’t give a damn about any other words. But, she looked at Jasper’s empathetic face. He did. He gave a damn about this woman. He always would. THIS was one of those sacrifices that people spoke about. Because, there was no way that she could be with him and not have to put up with this chick, at least sometimes. She freed one of her hands to stroke his hair and it broke his trance a little bit. He glanced at her and smiled, his eyes lit up and for a moment, he forgot that he was listening to this sob story from the person who had hurt him for most of his life.

“I’m so sorry. I was wrong and I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. That’s why I’ve been trying to be involved and why I’m here. I just want to do better in the future…” Pansy eventually uttered. Charlotte could almost visibly see a huge weight lifted off of Jasper’s chest and shoulders and mind… Like… She could visually spot the worry lines evaporate and see the insecurity melt away. It was extremely weird, but beautiful. And, she still didn’t have a fuck to give about that lady, but the way that Jasper hugged her, the comfort that he took in that declaration, whether or not Charlotte trusted it, it made her heart swell. He deserved those things. And she’d better be true about trying to give them to him.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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the-everlasting-dream · 7 years ago

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Sticky Situation - Maxwell x MC ft. Drake

Summary: Maxwell’s attempt at manscaping goes awry.

A/N: This is not an original idea. It was inspired by this post but after reading it I KNEW I had to se a Maxwell version for reasons. If I’ve done my job right, you’ll all be rolling with laughter soon. Slight Drake x MC Elizabeth here.

Submission for @choices-september-challenge Day 17 Unexpected hosted by @i-dream-so-i-write. I think I might be a day early but its the 17th for me lol

Maxwell Beaumont: Xavier Serrano Thea Larkin: Olivia Holt

Word count: 4100+

Warnings: Description of male genitalia, sexual references

Permanent tags: @choicessa, @pbchoicesobsessed , @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @xxrainbowprincessxx , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves

TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty

‘Are you going to take long little bird?’ Maxwell asked with a huff as he reluctantly guided the car through the streets of Cordonia.

He was currently driving his fiancee over to their best friend Elizabeth Richmond-Walker’s Atlantean manor for a girls afternoon with their friends Hana Lee and Olivia Nevrakis. He’d voiced his protest earlier at having to part with her for a few hours after expecting to have the whole day together to spend as they pleased.

‘Oh Max its just for one afternoon. Besides,’ Thea Larkin grinned, tossing a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder cheekily. ‘I think you’ll be very pleased with the result after we visit the beauty parlour.’

Maxwell’s eyebrows perked up as he caught her meaning, deliberately urging the car on faster. ‘Full speed ahead then! Beauty parlour here she comes!’ He announced as Thea let out a peal of laughter.

Maxwell was just driving away from the manor when something on the seat glimmered in the sunlight and he glanced over to find that Thea had left her purse in the car and immediately turned the car around. After one of Elizabeth’s staff members pointed him in the direction of her parlous where they were all gathered, he stood at the door, poised to knock before he heard their voices travelling through the door.

‘-believe he waxes Liv!’ Elizabeth was saying. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure!’ Olivia’s voice conveyed a slight hint of irritation. ‘I’ve been married to Liam long enough that he can’t hide that from me…’

‘Huh I’m just surprised he would go to all that effort,’ Liz replied thoughtfully. ‘Drake just shaves, says it makes him look bigger.’

Maxwells eyes widened as he realised what the women were talking about. In spite of himself he glanced down his own body thinking of his negligence of proper grooming down there. Sure he’d attempted to clean up the downstairs in the past but after one very unfortunate encounter with a razor and a whole week of having to come up with an believable enough excuse for walking funny, he’d been deterred from the whole concept together. So far Thea hadn’t said anything about it when they’d been together so he’d just assumed she didn’t mi-

‘Does it really feel better like that Liz?’

That was Thea speaking now, her tone curious, revealing just how innocent she still was at 22 years of age. Maxwell leaned closer to the door, gripping the handle in anticipation, his ear flat against the wood to avoid missing a word of what she was going to say.

‘Thea girl...,’ Elizabeth answered, her voice dropping in pitch. ‘It makes all the difference in the world.’

‘Plus it makes blowjobs that much more pleasant,’ Olivia put in bluntly. ‘You won’t have to be picking hair out of your teeth hours later.'

A loud gasp escaped Maxwell. He forgot he still had a hand on the door handle in his surprise at Olivia’s bluntness accidentally twisted the handle. With the side of his body pressed heavily against the wood from his eavesdropping attempt, it gave way easily now and he tumbled headfirst into the room where the ladies were sitting.

‘Maxwell?!’ They gasped collectively at his abrupt entrance. Blushing furiously red and inwardly cursing his luck, he picked himself off the ground. ‘Hey girls… uh… Thea forgot her purse so I just dropped by to give it to her.’

He sheepishly handed the item to his surprised fiancée.

‘Quite literally too,’ Olivia purred in amusement as she eyed his reddened state.

Thea eyed him quizzically. ‘Max how long have you-‘

‘Barely two seconds,’ he called out over his shoulder, perhaps a little too loudly. He steadily avoiding all their gazes, making a beeline towards the exit. ‘I’ll see you girls later, have fun!’

"Place tub in microwave, warm in short bursts, stirring after each burst of heat until wax was a smooth, honey like consistency. Apply a liberal amount of wax to area to be epilated, apply linen strip rubbing firmly in direction of hair growth, pull skin taut and remove wax strip.”

‘Huh.. seems simple enough,’ Maxwell mused out loud, scanning the label on small round pot he’d found.

When he’d returned back to the Beaumont manor, instead of spending the afternoon playing video games like he’d planned, the girls’ conversation had made him curious and he’d immediately headed to the cupboard under the bathroom sink of Thea’s bathroom, rummaging around until he found it. A small pot of wax and the accompanying strips.

Rereading the instructions, he turned it over in his hands.

‘That doesn’t sound too hard. I got this,’ he reassured himself again as he made his way down to the vast kitchen. 'If girls could do it so can I.’

House Beaumont was entirely empty, the servants had the day off and Bertrand was with Savannah and Bartie at her place so it was the perfect time to try this, he reasoned with himself, imagining how surprised Thea would be when he showed her the finished result.

Slipping the pot into the microwave, Maxwell headed to the cupboard in the store room holding their camping supplies, reasoning that this could be a messy process and he’d rather not face his older brother’s fury for spilling wax on their kitchen stools. Dragging out a canvas camping chair, he positioned it in front of the kitchen island as he waited for the microwave to finish, wrapping the flaps of his dressing gown tighter over his naked body underneath. When he heard the DING! of the microwave, he carefully extracted the pot and laid it to cool on the bench top.

'So far so good,’ Maxwell muttered to himself, surprised at how smoothly this was all going before he realised his real predicament.

How was he supposed to get the wax on his man parts without slopping it everywhere?

He spent a few moments, attempting various positions to see which would be the most effective for the task he was about to undertake, finally settling on a seated position on the canvas chair with his legs raised up on the kitchen island spread in a wide pilates V. It took a moment to juggle with the positioning of his cock and balls but so far this was the best option he could think of.

Mortified at the thought of anyone — least of all Bertrand — walking in to see him in such compromising position, Maxwell reached for the stick in the pot, hoping he could get the task quickly without any major spills. He gingerly moved to apply it quickly to his skin almost immediately he cursed out loud.

‘Shit!’

He hadn’t left it to cool long enough and the wax was much too hot when it made contact with the tender skin of his balls, drawing reflexive tears of pain. When the intensity died down to a dull warmth, he hastily applied the linen strip over the area, rubbing it soothingly to ease the pain. No, he reminded himself. The most painful part was still to come.

‘Come on Maxwell,’ he muttered trying to psych himself up. ‘You can do this.’

Clenching his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and flexed his abs in preparation for the shock that was to come. With his fingers under the edge of the stip, he counted to three and ripped the strip off as quickly as he could.

‘Mother fucker!’

His shout of pain echoed through the halls of the Beaumont manor and if anyone were home they’d have some running by now. His vision flashed white as pain emanated from between his legs and he fought to keep his breathing under control. Eventually Maxwell opened his eyes, bringing the strip up to inspect his handiwork expecting to see it filled with unwanted hair but was surprised to find… nothing!

‘What the hell?’ Maxwell exclaimed, staring at the little piece of cloth, void of both hair AND wax.

’Something’s not right,’ he began, reaching for the pot to reread the instructions labelled there. He’d followed the steps perfectly.

Warm. Apply. Rub. Pull. It wasn’t rocket science!

He glanced down at himself to find the cooled wax perfectly attached to the pubic hair on his balls.

‘Maybe I didn’t put enough wax on,’ Maxwell reasoned with himself and reached for the stick again — another huge mistake.

In his hurry he’d taken too big of a scoop of wax out of the pot and it had dripped all over his flaccid cock making him hiss as the still-too-hot wax hit his most sensitive area. He’d put so much on that it began to drip down over his balls down to his taint in between his butt cheeks.

Unfortunately his attention was focused elsewhere for now as his fingers scrabbled across the bench top to reach for another strip of linen. When he finally placed it where he deemed appropriate, he patted it down with more force than earlier, attempting to distract himself from the strain of his muscles from keeping him in that position for so long. Gasping for breath, Maxwell braced himself for the impact as his held his skin tight and yanked the strip with all his might.

‘FUCK!’

His howl of pain was louder this time and a whole octave higher as the pain seemed to be ten times worse this time around. He was gasping for air, covered in a light sheen of sweat from the exertion and lifted his hand up to inspect his handiwork.

Surely that had to work this time…

He hadn’t put himself through that a second time to turn up -

‘EMPTY?’ Maxwell screeched, staring at the pristine wax strip staring back at him, almost mockingly. Defeated and angry, he dropped his legs from the bench top, hissing as his tired muscles spasmed when he closed his legs. His back was killing him too as and he tried to shift in the chair, his eyes widened in horror as he found himself unable to move!

‘I’ve glued myself to the chair,’ he stated blankly, trying not to lose his cool but failing miserably. ‘I’ve glued myself to the chair!’

And if things couldn’t get any worse, Maxwell shifted again only to find that he’d waxed himself… to himself!

A frantic panic welled up in him as he tried to pry his legs apart but they refused to move, sealed together perfectly by the wax. He let out a whimper of defeat.

How am I going to get free? What if I need to pee? Another more drastic thought struck him. What if I’m stuck like this forever?

His eyes widened at the thought of being confined to the chair for the rest of his life. I’ll never be able to dance again, he realised with horror before correcting himself. He’d never be able to be with Thea again. Now that shocked him into silence and he stayed frozen like that for a few moments.

He needed to do something… He couldn’t remain like this forever. He refused to. Channelling his inner Bertrand, he psyched himself up again. He was Maxwell Percival of House Beaumont. Surely he wouldn’t let a little bit of hot wax get the better of him.

Steeling his nerves, Maxwell gingerly attempted to inch one butt cheek off the chair which caused a slight sucking noise to echo out through the kitchen and if it was possible he felt himself blush even more at his own predicament. While his sense of urgency told him to hurry, his pain threshold screamed at him to take his time, lest he got himself into an even more compromising position. His muscles strained with every inch he shifted but eventually he was able to peel himself off the chair.

Next problem, his legs were still glued together.

Maxwell’s mind raced trying to find a solution that did not involve stripping himself of his ability to have children and finally settled on the first somewhat sensible option that came to him.

Grabbing his robe and phone, he began to take painfully tiny steps towards the bathroom. No matter how big or small his movements were, each step was a new fresh hell as the wax pulled at his hair and genitals. Instead of walking, he resigned himself to an awkward sliding motion as he shuffled towards the stairs, realising all the bathrooms big enough to accommodate his needs were stationed one level above. Sweat dripped off his body as he painfully inched himself up the first step, gasping heavily when he’d cleared it.

Only fifteen more to go….

In the bathroom, Maxwell turned on the faucet as warm as he thought he could handle and when the tub was sufficiently filled, he eased himself into the water, sighing in relief rather than pleasure that he would finally be able to be free of this accursed wax. The bottle of rose scented bubble bath caught his eye and he reached for it, hoping for something to make his unfortunate experience a little better. Shortly after dumping in a generous dollop, the bubbles began to form and he leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, giving himself a few moments to relax before he tackled his downstairs issue.

It had barely been over a minute when he felt something tickling his nose and opened his eyes to find his entire visual field filled with foam as the bubbles had multiplied incessantly filling the entire bathtub. He shut the water off and swiped a few bubbles out of his way.

Surely the wax would have melted by now…

Maxwell attempted to a slight wiggle to adjust himself

Nothing happened….

He wiggled again…

Still nothing..

For some reason his body was refusing to cooperate! Frantically he swiped more of the bubbles away to find that instead of melting the wax off his skin the warm water had the complete opposite effect and in his attempt to free himself, he’d essentially created a vacuum seal between his balls, legs and the bathtub!

Maxwell was shocked to his very core, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry about his predicament. Instead he reached for his phone, dealing the first person he could think of… Bertrand.

His older brother had gotten him out of scraped a hundred times over. Surely he’d know what to do right? Maxwell drummed his fingers against the side of the tub while the phone rang over and over before finally going to voice mail.

‘Bertrand’s always got his phone on him,’ he exclaimed. ‘What could possibly be happening now?’

Sighing in frustration he dialled Liam’s number. Surely the King of Cordonia would have a solution for him? Unfortunately that call too went to voice mail and Maxwell sighed again. Liam was probably off doing kingly things and didn’t have time to answer.

His finger hovered over Thea’s contact, millimetres away from pressing the green button before he clicked out of the contact. She was busy with the rest of the girls at the salon… Besides he sure as shit wasn’t about to tell his fiancee about his stupid endeavour, knowing she’d tease him endlessly about it. He’d be taking this to the grave, which left only one other person to call.

‘Drake? Drake my buddy, my best friend how are you?’ he began nervously, relieved that someone picked up.

Drake’s flat tone told him immediately that he was neither impressed not entertained this. ‘I’m fine.'

‘Greaaaat’ he replied and immediately realising he’d drawn out the syllable a bit longer than necessary. ’Say whatcha doing right now?’

‘I just got Darcy down for her afternoon nap,’ his friend replied shortly before his voice got suspicious. ‘What do you want Beaumont?'

Maxwell felt his face heat up at the prospect of having to explain his situation to his ever cynical best friend. Of all the scrapes he’d gotten himself into this one was definitely up there with the worst of them. ‘I… uh… might have gotten myself into a bit of a… ah, sticky situation.’

‘Get to the point Maxwell,’ Drake replied, his tone definitely irritated now. ‘What have you done now?’

Maxwell shifted uncomfortably then immediately regretted it as the strands of waxed hair pulled painfully against his balls. ‘I think its better if I show you,’ he squeaked in pain.

‘Beaumont if this is another one of your fucking pranks, I swear to god I’ll-‘

‘Drake just get over here!’ he burst out desperately, unable to take it anymore. ‘I need help!'

‘Alright, alright, just sit tight I’ll be there soon,’ he grumbled before clicking the call off.

Maxwell settled his phone on the bathtub’s edge and waited, praying his best friend would arrive quickly and have some sort of idea on how to get him out of his predicament. Twenty minutes passed and the temperature of the water in the bathtub dropped by more than 10 degrees but he was still no closer to becoming unstuck.

‘Come on, come on,’ Maxwell muttered under his breath, hoping to the highest heavens that Drake hadn’t forgotten and would arrive soon. Ever since Darcy had been born, his best friend had taken his fatherhood role very seriously which meant he’d seen less and less of him in the last few months. At long last his phone buzzed and he lunged for it, sure enough finding a text from Drake.

I just got here. Where are you? in the master bathroom. hurry, idk how long i can be like this

After what felt like hours but was probably about a minute, Drake appeared in the door way carrying some sort of large basket in his hand.

'Drake buddy!’ Maxwell burst out in relief. 'Man am I glad to see you.'

'Maxwell, please tell me you did not disrupt my daughters nap just to show me you were having a bubble bath,’ Drake growled, setting the basket down and Maxwell caught a sight of baby Darcy inside, still sleeping soundly.

'No Drake its not like that!’ he protested before gesturing down to himself. 'I’m stuck!’

His friend’s face crumpled in confusion and irritation. 'What the fu- What do you mean you’re stuck?’

'I’m stuck Drake!’ he wailed despondently, almost on the verge of tears.

‘Alright alright! Keep your damn voice down,’ Drake grumbled, jerking his head at the sleeping baby. ‘Why don’t you tell me what happened from the beginning?’

'I wanted to surprise Thea so I tried to self-wax my… um… you know — I mean if Liam can do it, it shouldn’t be that hard right?’ Maxwell began rapidly, keeping his gaze firmly away from his friend's as he continued. ‘And I followed the instructions but then the wax didn’t come off, and oh my god it fucking hurt, so I tried it again but it still didn’t work, and when I put my legs down… everything sealed together and now I’m stuck to the bathtub!'

He glanced up to see Drake’s eyebrows raised almost to his hair line in astonishment and the two men just stared at each other for a long moment before Drake burst out into uncontrollable laughter, his broad shoulders shaking.

‘Fine, fine,’ Maxwell grumbled. ‘I guess I deserve that… Laugh all you want.’

‘Wow Beaumont,’ his friend replied sarcastically, not even bothering to hide his amusement. ‘You’ve really done it this time,’ he replied, wiping a few tears away.

‘Ok yea I admit it was a dumb idea but will you help me now?!’ He demanded.

‘Hang on I’m not done yet,’ Drake shot back and laughed for a few more seconds to Maxwell’s chagrin.

‘Okay now can we focus on the real problem here?!’ He almost yelled, completely disregarding the sleeping child a few feet away.

‘Shit Maxwell I have no idea how to help you. Right now Google is our best bet I guess. But before we try anything, you should drain the bathtub,’ Drake advised in what Maxwell could only describe as his “dad voice". ’Nothing’s gonna work if with all those bubbles in the way... I’m also gonna assume you’re naked under all that..?’ He gestured vaguely to the soap suds.

Maxwell nodded and silently obeyed, pulling the plug and letting the water drain out, rinsing himself of the soap suds as Drake thumbed through his phone, looking for a solution.

‘Here it is,’ he finally spoke up. ‘Do you have any olive oil?’

‘If we do it would be in the kitchen,’ Maxwell answered, confused but not about to argue with his best friend who immediately disappeared and was back in a few seconds with it.

‘Cotton pads?’

‘In the drawer,’ Maxwell pointed to indicate which one it was. Handing both the items to him, Drake slowly walked him through the process of unsticking himself from the bathtub floor with surprising patience and soon enough Maxwell found himself effectively detached from the porcelain.

‘Drake buddy come here,’ he exclaimed, lunging up from the bathtub entirely relieved to be free. ‘You’re the best friend a guy could ask for!’

He attempted to pull Drake into a hug but his friend deftly sidestepped him, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘You know how I feel about hugs Beaumont. And you’re still naked by the way.’

Maxwell glanced down to find that he was indeed still naked and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack.

‘Oh thanks for the reminder, pal,’ he replied shakily.

Drake shook his head vehemently, shuddering. ‘Ugh don’t think I’ll be unseeing that anytime soon… Come on get dressed,’ he instructed, throwing Maxwell’s robe at him.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked curiously as he slipped the robe over his shoulders, watching Drake pick up his still sleeping daughter and head out of the bathroom.

‘Just do it,’ he ordered authoritatively over his shoulder and Maxwell had no choice but to follow after him. Drake loaded all three of them into his Jeep and turned glared at him.

‘If you get wax on my new car, I will personally seal you to the roof of House Beaumont, got it?’

‘Got it,’ Maxwell gulped, knowing his friend was entirely capable of following through on his threat and the entire car ride was silent until Drake finally pulled up to a strip mall.

‘What are we doing here?’ Maxwell questioned as he got down from the vehicle.

‘Doing what you should have done in the first place,’ his friend replied as he carefully extracted his daughter from her carseat and heading towards the entrance of a beauty parlour. ‘Getting it professionally done. Are you gonna stand there on the sidewalk all day Beaumont?’

Shaking his head, Maxwell scurried after his best friend away from the strange looks he was receiving from passerby on the street. He’d barely taken two steps into the salon when a woman’s voice called out his name.

‘Maxwell?’

His eyes almost fell out of his head when he saw Thea, Elizabeth, Olivia and Hana seated on the large massage chairs getting their nails done.

‘Uh… hey ladies…'

‘What are you doing here?’ His fiancee questioned, looking at him curiously.

Maxwell felt his face heat up alarmingly. ‘Umm… I mean y’know… I was so lonely at home I decided to come join you…'

‘Don’t be fooled,’ Drake cut in. ‘You’ll never believe what he did to himself this time.’

‘Thats it!’ Maxwell exclaimed out loud, heading for one of the waxing rooms at the back of the store, hoping to escape the ribbing his friends would inevitably give him. ‘I’m already late for my appointment!’

As he settled himself down on the waxing bed, he could hear his friends laughing as Drake related the entire story to them.

That’s the last time I attempt to do anything like this myself...

#maxwell beaumont #maxwell x mc #trr maxwell #drake walker #drake x elizabeth #elizabeth richmond #olivia nevrakis #Hana Lee #king liam #The Royal Romance #trr #choices #playchoices #choices fandom #choices fanfiction #choices september challenge #day 17 unexpected

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lulublack90 · 10 months ago

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Prompt 12 - Wand

@wolfstarmicrofic September 12, word count 311

Previous part First Wolfstar part

Regulus read A Christmas Carol that night after James had requested Flitsy to bring it. Sirius had hid with Remus in their tent when the grumpy elf had arrived.

“So what did you think?” Sirius asked Regulus the following morning.

“It was good. I understand your plan now. I am not wearing chains though,” He warned, narrowing his eyes. Sirius snorted.

“No, Reggie, you don’t have to wear chains,” He wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, tugging him in close as he continued to tease him.

“We’ll need to wait for Crouch Sr. to leave for the day and hope that Barty stays at home. I’m certain that Crouch Sr. has no idea where his son’s allegiance lies.” Remus said to them as they tucked into bowls of thick porridge, courtesy of Rorbey. The elf had brought a huge cauldron of it with him when he popped into the camp with a message from Orion, telling him that Walburga had been called back to London for an important meeting and would be gone all week if Sirius needed anything. It would be safe for him to visit. He’d told Remus, who’d just hugged him and told him it would be safer for them all if Sirius only went to the Summer Manor if he really had to. Sirius had agreed. He’d tell Rorbey if he came back again before the week was out.

“Well, no time like the present I suppose,” He said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s go find this cup.”

They stood outside the very modest-looking Crouch family home. While the Crouchs were part of the Sacred Twenty-eight, they, like so many of the old families, had squandered their riches and had yet to refill their vaults with gold. Sirius doubted that they ever would.

Sirius raised his wand and, with the others, they silently approached the house.

Next part

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indescribablechoices · 7 years ago

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this night is sparkling (TRR)

Part of the @choices-september-challenge

Day Nineteen: Camping

Pairing: None really, based in my TRR next gen group from my Enchanting series.

Prompt: 39 (Spin the bottle kiss) and Lyra X Bartie, thank you @iknewyoudcome

Word Count: 1890

Listening Suggestion: Enchanted - Taylor Swift

Fic Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @kennaxval @iknewyoudcome @

Synopsis: For Lyra’s 16th birthday, she and some of her closest friends have a camp out in the palace grounds. A bottle of whiskey and a game of spin the bottle lead to some revelations. Warning for underage drinking.

Enchanting Masterlist

“Look what I found,” Bartie announced, joining the circle around the campfire as he dramatically waved the full whiskey bottle that was in his grasp. He tossed it casually to Lyra who examined the label.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“I might have borrowed it from Uncle Drake’s cellar,” he told her with a sly grin, “It’s a sixteen year old bottle so I figured it was perfect.”

She returned the smile, “Well this should at least liven up this party if nothing else.”

“Exactly,” he nodded, “Nothing quite says ‘party’ like a group of drunk teenagers.”

Natalia leaned over and took the bottle from Lyra’s hands, “This calls for a little drinking game. Spin the Bottle, anyone?” A cheer went up from the group and they all huddled into a new circle with the bottle placed in the middle. “The rules are simple,” she said, “You spin the bottle, whoever it lands on is offered a choice of ‘truth’ or ‘dare’. You must complete the dare or tell the truth, and if you refuse or are suspected of lying, you have to drink. Ready?”

Drake looked uncomfortably at his sister, “Is this really a good idea?”

“It’s a great idea,” she assured him, “It’s a party. It’s just us and our friends. Just try and relax and have some fun.”

“As the resident birthday girl, and future queen of our great nation, Lyra you may start,” Natalia said.

Lyra leaned forward, grasping the bottle and spinning it. It landed on Alodie, and she chose truth. Lyra thought for a moment then grinned, “Who are you crushing on at the moment?”

Alodie’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“You heard me,” Lyra’s grin grew bigger, “There has to be someone.”

“I… uh…” Alodie stammered over her words, then met Lyra’s eyes, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and after removing the top, drank a mouthful, daintily wiping her lipstick afterwards.

Lyra laughed, “So that’s how it’s going to be, hm?”

“Yes, your Highness,” Alodie gave an overdramatically polite nod before spinning the bottle herself. It landed on Natalia who Alodie dared to remove every knife from where she had it hidden on her person.

Natalia had stood and with a confusing series of movements, dropped five blades of varying size on the ground at her feet.

Gareth’s eyebrows shot up, “Where were you hiding those?”

“You don’t want to know, Beaumont,” she smirked, sitting back down.

The game went on, revealing the embarrassing way Bertrand had given Gareth the ‘birds and bees’ talk, the exact colour of Lily’s underwear and a daring text sent from Natalia’s phone to her father concerning the stolen whiskey, mixed with plenty of steadily more risqué questions that were met with lots of drinking, ensuring that they were all at least some semblance of drunk.

Drake, who had been landed on the most, and had refused every request thrown at him was swaying where he sat, whiskey coursing through his system as he giggled at everything happening around him.

Natalia spun the bottle, a shit eating grin crossing her face when it landed on Lyra, “Truth or dare, your Highness?”

“Hit me with your best shot, Nevrakis; dare!” Lyra said, the whiskey making her feel bold, having only been answering truths so far.

Natalia cracked her knuckles, “Alright then. I think it’s time we finally break the tension.”

“What tension?” Lyra rolled her eyes.

“I dare you to kiss Bartie.”

Lyra stared at her, unable to keep the flush out of her cheeks, “What?”

“Come on, we’ve all been thinking it,” Natalia said, “There is some serious tension between the two of you. Don’t pretend that you’ve never thought about it. I mean look at him, he’s gorgeous.”

Lyra glanced at Bartie who was looking at her, his grey eyes meeting her blue. She felt a surge in her chest. He was attractive, and she had noticed so many of the other girls at court taking notice of him, but she had never considered him in that way. He was her best friend, he had been for as long as she could remember.

“It’s now or never, Princess,” Natalia reminded her.

Lyra shot her a look then looked back to Bartie, “Can you…?”

He nodded, “Of course.” They shuffled closer together from where they sat on opposite sides of the circle, meeting in the middle. As their friends began to cheer them on, he whispered quietly to her, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” she whispered back, “But it’s just one kiss. It won’t make things awkward, right?”

“Not at all. Nothing changes, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

They leaned their heads in and their lips met in a gentle kiss, no more than it had done when they had played together as children, but it began to deepen slowly as they drew closer together, his hand coming to cup at her cheek. They lost themselves in those long few moments, the sound of her heart beating hard drowning out the sounds of anything else around them, the soft feel of his mouth on hers, her fingertips starting to tease at the dark curls of his hair.

When they finally parted for breath, their eyes opened to look at each other, noses still brushing together.

“Sunshine, that was…” he began to say but a cheering howl from Natalia cut him off.

“Get a room you two!” she laughed, and the pair of them awkwardly parted, sitting back in their original seats. Lyra’s heart was still fluttering in her chest as she ran a hand through her hair to try and bring herself back to the moment, spinning the bottle again.

The game continued for a few more rounds before they realised that the bottle was empty.

“I think we should start heading to bed,” Lyra said, glancing at her brother who was continuing to sway whilst his eyes drooped shut.

They headed back to the campfire, one by one ducking into their tents to change into the pyjamas.

Alodie had Drake’s tall frame supported against her as he tried to climb into his tent but she rolled her eyes and pulled him back out, “Come on. I think you need a real bed.”

“But, but the party!” he insisted.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” she told him, and after informing Lyra that she was going to take him back to the palace, she began leading him back out of the garden.

He babbled happily as they walked, laughing about the events of the evening, about how happy Lyra was and how happy that made him. They made it back inside the palace without much incident, passing by a few servants who giggled to themselves at the sight of the usually quiet and composed prince drunk and merry. She shushed him as they made it to the royal suites, shoving him quickly to his room as not to disturb the king and queen and let them know that their son was intoxicated.

Once inside, he flopped back on the bed as she removed his shoes and jacket. He kept on mumbling happily to himself as she rolled her eyes. She lifted his legs up onto the mattress and pulled the blanket over him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, looking up at her through askew glasses.

She slid them off his face and put them on his bedside table, offering him a smile, “It’s no trouble. Now, get some sleep.”

She went to walk away but he reached out and took her hand, “Will… Will you stay?”

She looked back at him, “You want me to stay?”

He nodded into his pillow, “I only went to the party to spend time with you.”

“Oh,” her voice was soft as she went back to his bedside, sitting on the edge of the mattress, still holding his hand, “Just until you fall asleep, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, his eyes already drooping, “You’re my favourite person in the whole world, Allie. And I…”

“Yeah Drake?” she asked, looking expectantly at him, but he was already fast asleep. She shook her head to herself with a sigh. She ran a hand over his mess of light brown hair then flicked the lamp off, leaving his room to let him sleep in peace.

Back in the garden, Lyra was led staring up at the fabric ceiling of her tent, her mind whirling, but she knew that it wasn’t from the alcohol. She and Bartie had kissed. And not just a friendly peck, but they had kissed. And despite the agreement that they had both made, something had changed. Whether that would mean anything, she didn’t know, but for now it was all she could think about.

She sat up when she heard a shuffle of movement outside. Thinking it Alodie, she clambered out of her tent to ask how her brother was, but she stopped dead when she saw Bartie across the fire, dressed in nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms.

They stared at each other for a moment before they began to laugh softly.

“I thought you were Alodie,” she told him.

“Unfortunately, no,” he shrugged, glancing back at his tent, “Turns out Gareth is a fidget arse when he’s had a drink so I’m not getting any sleep tonight.”

“Well you can’t sleep out here,” she pointed out, “C’mon.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “C’mon, what?”

“I’ve got the biggest tent here,” she said, “We can share.”

“Sunshine, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes, “We used to share the same bed when we were kids, I think we can share the same tent and be mature about it.”

She clambered back in, sliding into her sleeping bag. He followed behind her a few moments later, zipping the door up behind himself, having grabbed a sweater from his tent. He led down on the opposite side of the tent, back pressed right up against the fabric wall.

She grabbed one of the spare blankets and pillows and tossed them to him to get comfortable.

“Thank you,” he whispered almost inaudibly.

They led in silence for a while, both staring up at the dark ceiling of the tent. After a few mintues, Lyra dared a look at him to see if he’d fallen asleep but her eyes met his. He’d been watching her; for how long, she wasn’t sure. She licked her dry lips nervously, but neither of them looked away.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Of course,” he nodded.

“That was my first kiss.”

He propped himself up on his elbow, “Shit, Sunshine, I wouldn’t have…”

“No, no,” she said quickly, reaching across to take hold of his hand, “What I mean is… thank you. It was perfect, awkward given the circumstances, but perfect. I’m glad it was you.”

“Oh,” a smile played on his lips as he squeezed her hand, “Happy to help.”

“Ass,” she stuck her tongue out at him with a teasing grin, meeting his eyes, “You really are my best friend, you know that, right?”

“I know. And you’re mine.”

“Good,” she said quietly, settling her head into her pillow, “We should get some sleep.”

“Agreed,” he gave a nod, settling into his own pillow, but still clutching her hand.

“Goodnight, Bartie.”

“Goodnight, Sunshine.”

#choices september challenge #the royal romance #enchanting #writing

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asylum-miniatures · 7 years ago

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Guild interview tape 33295:

1# - guild master you called for me, yes? 2# - there you are, perfect. I need you to help me go over the reports from the team near southwater 1# - ah, yes, the suicide squad, yes 2# - wait, what, since when were we calling them that 1# - for quite a while yes, I thought you knew? Yes 2# - NO! why would we ever call them that, I don’t want them to die. If I did I would just do it myself, who called them that anyway, was it you? 3# - actually, old friend, it was me 2# - when did you get here? 3# - I have been in hear for the last three hours, fact is I was in here before you were 2# - what, how…never mind that, why would you go along with calling them that? Might I remind you that the man you raise since he was a child is part of that group you so casually condemn 3# - who did you think named them called them that in the first place? 1# - yes, you forget guild master that between the two of us, yes, we have interviewed every member of that group. It is our professional option, yes, that entire group are maladjusted nincompoops unsuitable for any task, yes 3# - I’d argue against that old friend, but the one did shoot me 2# - back to the matter at hand, the reports 1# - you are mistaken, yes 2# - what? 1# - yes, this less of a report and more a bill of damages 3# - he’s right 2# - how would you know, you haven’t even read it yet 3# - I’ve been in here for three hours, I have been going through the small mountain of paperwork that’s been building up, I’ve read every report on your table twice, and filled out the appropriate paperwork three times 2# - so what have they been doing then? It can’t be that bad 3# - you underestimate my boy old friend 1# - yes, judging by the amount of fire damage, yes, so did our agents 2# - fire damage! I thought he was a summoner? 3# - according to the report, at “the ninja’s insistence” draspher has been experimenting with them, with mixed success 1# - he is still summoning, yes. A number of the complaints were his attempts, yes, at mastering some kind of trick involving invisibility, a bedsheet, several fire elementals and a large swarm of bats, yes 3# - certainly sounds like something he’d do. At least he’s not stopping anyone from doing their jobs, unlike Yurion 2# - why, what has she been doing that’s so bad, most of the time she has her head in a book 3# - apparently, she’s been experimenting with a new power that lets her literally rip the thoughts out of someone’s head. About six different missions have all been put in jeopardy as she keeps testing it on returning agents who forget the vital messages they were supposed to be delivering 1# - better than, yes, the man named after a man, named after a cat yes. He has been shooting them for doing their job, yes. 2# - explain 1# - multiple reports, yes, of agents being shot at yes. Sometime when leaving or returning, other times when they are performing mundane tasks, yes. 3# - he goes into great-detail in explain how one agent nearly died from his wounds from three different bullets. 1# - yes, apparently, he was shot bringing the requisitioned supplies, once upon delivering Ocelots new guns, with the newly acquired revolver might I add, yes, and finally once when he was far away from the compound. I theorise that cat man was testing the freshly delivered rife on a faraway target, yes. Then there are the poison victims, yes 2# - Jaune I take it 3# - only on the last victim, the rest were Simms work. Apparently, she has taken to potion brewing, and needed test subjects 1# - yes, apparently, yes, multiple cases of unwanted orphan baby failed first batch potions left the base in a terrible state.yes 3# - what baby? 2# - never mind, and Jaune’s victim 3# - when the agents clamped down on the testing Jaune offered to help her in their place. What he failed to mention is that he had no intention of drinking the potions, and helped drug most of the agent’s drinks 1# - luckily, they were mostly healing potions, yes. The captain just got unlucky with semi-working water breathing potion 2# - semi working? 3# - the potion did let him breath underwater, it just failed to let him breath out of it 2# - that just leaves Jaune himself. What chaos has he been spreading? 3# - surprisingly nothing 2# - really? 1# - Not true, yes, the team killing ninja has been stalking commander yes, 2# - please don’t call him that 1# - no, yes, the team killing ninja has been asking, “teach me ninja-san”, yes 2# - what did I just say 1# - Unusual, yes, though I find it odd that you would dislike that word, very well I shall not call him that. The Team killing backstabber has mostly been well behaved. He shut up when the commander threw a book of “deception for dummies” at him and apparently, he thought that was the first lesson yes. Yes, they shouldn’t have much problem with new mission yes 2# - THAT NOT THE WORD I MEANT AND YOU KNO…wait new mission, what new mission? 1# - yes the contact has sent them on mission yes to assist half leaf druid sect’s nature preserve yes 2# - please tell me you are making this up 1# - yes not making this up no other people available close to 2# - when was this decided 1# - you sent confirmation an hour ago, yes 2# - but I never authorised this 3# - actually that was me 2# - WHAT, 3# - what did you think I meant by filling out the appropriate response paperwork three times 2# - when did you start authorising these things without consulting me 3# - since you started dumbing paperwork on me old friend. You said to fill it out and take appropriate action based on my own judgement and I have done exactly that. Besides, it not like you weren’t going to send them anyway 2# - if that is the case, why didn’t you tell me about all this? 3# - I have, this is the first time I’ve seen you since I authorised the mission 2# -on that matter, how do you know about this before me 1# -is it not my job, yes, to know everything about everything happening everywhere, yes? 2# - have you been going through my mail? 1# - don’t be foolish yes, I go through everyone’s mail 2# - you know what, I need to discuss this in private, if you don’t mind 1# - certainly yes 2# - I meant in private 1# - I understand, yes, I will not say a word 2# - please leave 1# - but this would interfere in my knowing everything happening, yes 2# - now 1# - yes, this is an unwise course of action, yes 2# - NOW 1# - very well guild master, yes 2# - ok, so….I meant actually leave, not stand in the doorway 1# - of course, yes 2# - I meant actually, actually leave, not hide behind furniture 1# - yes, yes 2# - …. 3# - …. 2# - stop hanging round the corridor trying to listen in, I know your still there 1# - you can’t prove that yes 2# - [sigh] 3# - I don't know why your letting that get to you, he's always been like that 2# - I know, it's just all this coup business has been stressful recently, especially the mess that team left behind, the last thing I need is him adding to my headaches proving that I still have security flaws within my own airship. Maybe I should give them another review and update... 3# - you know it won’t do any good old friend. He will just find new ways of breaking them 2# - that’s true and….taking an invisibility potion and sneaking in still counts 1# - yes 3# - you know things aren't as bad as they seem. Even with that mess we have more leads to follow up, and they proved that they can work together. 2# - true, although I don't appreciate your sending them off without asking me first, especially since they are crucial to our next leads 3# - like I said old friend, I only did what you were going to do. They were causing problems being cooped up, so I gave them a harmless mission that needed doing anyway. A few days in the mountains, following tracks, finding a camp then reporting back so we can send a more experienced team 2# - I just worry about what they'll find. Running into Barty and then going to the home of another dragon, I wonder how much of my list they'll encounter. Not to mention Barty was always a wild card, who know what secret he leaked to them simply because he thought it was funny 3# - .... 2# - he’s still here, isn’t he 1# - no, yes 2# - GET OUT OF MY OFFICE

#Side Story #interview tape

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