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lindwyrmrelinquished · 3 years ago

Note

So....what are some of your headcanons for Ranbutler?

OHHHHHHHHHH BUDDY, YOU ARE OPENING YOURSELF TO A WHOLE NEW CAN'O'BEANS HERE

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL-

(everything else under the cut because there is a L O T )

Butler's human form is predominant(which unfortunately means he does not have a tail :(), but he can make Ender noises/speak Galactic. He's got a bunch of stims and tics, and making the Ender noises is one of them! He often makes them to fill the silence, or in times of high emotion(positive or negative. just imagine a Butler bouncing on his toes while excited Ender chirps keep coming out of his mouth, or he's rambling about something and half of it is layered with Galactic). Following from that, Butler has something that Billiam calls the "monochrome form". If he's under high levels of stress, whatever dark tint of color is in his right side will start spiking into the left side, making his skin darker(and, if he has enough color in his skin from NOT FUCKING OVERWORKING HIMSELF, it can get dark enough to blend into shadows) and spreading from the little black scales on his neck and cheeks and hands(which are already claws, that's why he wears gloves), and if he's really stressed/pissed, little horns are gonna start poking out of his skull and he's gonna be completely gray/black, his teeth are already deadly but they're gonna get sharper and if you look him in the eyes he will s c r e a m and very likely tear you apart if Billiam isn't there to hold him back/calm him down.

Speaking of! Butler very much dislikes eye contact. It makes them extremely uncomfortable and the Ender part is gonna start screaming to attack attack attack and the pupil-slit thing is gonna happen. Unfortunately, he's frozen by the eye contact and cannot move of his own free will, it's all going to be instinct to either get away or attack, if he moves at all. And the moment the eye contact is broken, he starts to calm down and all the screaming in his head starts to dissipate, so he doesn't really get the chance to consciously act on the Ender side's instinct.

NEXT OF ALL, throwing canon out the window and saying BILLIAM AND BUTLER ARE FOUND-FAMILY. The way they acted in the episode is just that, an act. In reality, they actually Care each other Very Very Much and have adopted each other into their respective hybrid groups(i.e Endermen have their hauntings, Piglins have their sounders{that part's not canon to mc but i yoinked it from a fic}). Hubert jokes about how Billiam accidentally adopted Bu as his son, but both Bu and Bi deny this. Hubert also got Liaria and James in on the joke and now these two are being constantly triple-teamed.

ON THAT NOTE Liaria and James know about the Egg. It happened at the tail end of Bu's first masquerade when they started accusing Billiam of committing all the murders, and Bu kind of panicked and outed himself as the killer, he pulled out the knife and everything. Billiam admitted that he knew about this, and showed them the Egg as explanation. Now Liaria and James willingly give up their bought lives to the Egg on the regular(we might get into the lives thing later{it was also something i yoinked from a fic, and then I gave it more explanation}) to keep Billiam and his family alive, but they're not all that affected by it due to not even being near it half the time.

AND ON THAT NOTE, let's talk about Butler's relationship with the Egg! Bad. It's bad. Absolutely terrible, the two despise each other immensely. I like to say they're the closest thing to caliginous that a teenaged hybrid that lived off spite and an ancient crimson demon can be. The Egg's hurt Bu a lot, and honestly that's part of the reason his contempt and fear for it is so high. But that's also part of the reason why Billiam was pulled out of its influence despite living right above it. Because he cares for Bu, a literal child that's suffered severe mental and physical trauma at the hands(well, vines) of the Egg. Honestly? Billiam wouldn't be the way he is now if he didn't have to take trips to the Nether. Short explanation, too much time away from their home realm gets hybrids really really sick. So, about a few months or so after Bu arrived, he had to yeet back there for a week and just told Butler and Hubert to take care of the mansion. And you know what Hubert did, that bitch? He took advantage of both Billiam's absence and Butler's skill and pampered himself while throwing the entire load onto the child. And then like halfway through the week, he got the idea to introduce said child to the Egg, who before then has had no idea it ever existed aside from the crimson red aura around the mansion(it's a whole thing about Endermen and magic but again, another thing I might get into later). He hadn't even attended a party before then. So, yeah, Hubert just left him down in one of the old cells for three days. Didn't even check on him, that bitch. And then when Billiam game back, suffice to say he was PISSED. He may be a rich bastard who causes murders biweekly, but even he has standards, and hurting a damn 7-8 year old child that bad was not one of them. he can't be held responsible for child labor, bu followed him home by his own choice. again, another whole backstory thing

Bu's genderfluid! He usually switches between he/him and they/them, and the direction he nods is a little indicator of which one(up for gender, down for no), but sometimes he uses she/her. Adding on that, due to Weird Enderman Genetics, he can manipulate his hair to grow real fast and likes to experiment with it in the mornings for Maximum Gender Euphoria This means that one day his hair could be barely touching his neck, and the next it's all the way down to his waist. It's a fun little anomaly and sometimes Billiam likes to play with it when it gets longer :3 travelling on the lgbt train, Bu is also ace/aro! This doesn't have much impact story-wise(usually), but it's just a fun little tidbit :3 On other, more Ender notes, he has pretty much all the traits an Enderman does, even if he looks fully human aside from being 6 inches taller than Sir Billiam himself. With the eye-contact thing, I've got a headcanon that Endermen can kind of read minds to an extent if they look into another entity's eyes, but it gets loud and borderline painful if anything but another Enderman does the same. Meanwhile, Bu's about the perfect mix of an Enderman and a Human(later called Players and Villagers depending on their capabilities) to be able to take at least a few seconds of eye contact. He can also teleport! To about the same extent as Endermen, if not a little less. Unfortunately, spending too much time in the void between teleportations(i.e a few hours for him, though an hour in the void is a minute in reality. It's why teleporting happens in the blink of an eye to anyone but the user) has some adverse effects. Bu's either glitched, gotten some sort of void-sickness like a flu but worse, and/or lost large chunks of memory each of the separate times he stuck himself in there for too long. Pure-blooded Endermen have a longer tolerance, but even they can succumb to the void with enough time.

Bu's also hurt by water, and the first time Billiam really figured this out is when he dragged him to the roof because it was raining and for some reason, Bi really likes the rain. Bu, on the other hand, was hospitalized for a day once Billiam actually realized, "oh, he's burning" Unfortunately, Bu can still produce tears, so he's got some scars on his cheeks and hands from those, Luckily, though! Billiam got him some gloves and a facemask reminiscent of cc!Ranboo to hide those scars because bu's. really self-conscious about them :,D

But also he's got TOE BEANS,

[ahem] So Endermen are basically giant block-holding teleporting cats and no one can convince me very much otherwise. So on the one hand, they have giant hands shaped for holding blocks. On the other hand, T O E B E A N S

So Bu's got beans on the pads of his fingers and feet(which also end in claws with a black gradient because Peak Character Design <3). Billiam likes to hold his hands on the rare occasion he doesn't wear his gloves because mans likes to stim with those toe beans. Meanwhile Billiam himself has nicely-textured hands because of his Piglin hooves and Bu also likes to stim with them, so just. them holding each others hands for mutual stimmage

[ahem] anyway

Bu stims!! He flaps his hands and does thing really rapidly and harshly when he's really high-strung, which doesn't happen often, at least in front of people. Boy's got anxiety so he's had his fair share of panic attacks :,D he just knows how to disguise them so people don't see, but Billiam knows the signs at this point. But he also has a lot of vocal stims/tics, mainly lots of Enderman noises, some popping and a little screechy thing here and there. Sometimes he picks up a sound and then repeats it a whole bunch because it feels nice on the tongue :] there's also these poofs of particles that happen when he's happy, they look like mini purple fireworks and they're like an expulsion of magic, he can feel when they happen and it feels nice :]

(cw for self-harm in this paragraph and the followed copy-pasted convo)

[ahemhemhem] So y'know how Butler's an Ender-hybrid? His hands and feet reflect that(along with the ears, the eyes, the height, the abilities, but we're talking about about the hands here). Part of why he keeps those gloves on almost 24/7 is to dull his claws, which are not so much an intentional danger to others rather than an unintentional danger to himself. He's got tics and stims and is very neurodivergent and has anxiety(me projecting? noooo /hj), so he gets very nervous very easily. And one of his nervous habits rather than wringing his hands, fidgeting, and (if really bad)a heightened amount of tics, he tends to scratch at his arms. His claws can tear through the fabric easily, and more than one or two suits have been sent back to the tailors for repairs to the sleeves. However, having both padded sleeves and padded gloves nullifies that, so he always wears them special-made. If he didn't have that habit, he likely wouldn't have the gloves on as often as he does.

Friend Hey good headcanons 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 Also ohhhh my god Billiam fussing over him and his gloves until he gets them to be the right amount of padded where Bu can still do things but also not hurt himself

Me gbfhdgbhgsfhbgsfdhdf He keeps examining them every time the tailors try but it doesn't feel right until That Specific Try so he just plops the gloves back on the counter and says "Do it again"

Friend They spend an entire day doing nothing but making gloves while Billiam & Hubert take turns watching Butler to make sure he stays safe

Me Absolutely Problem is Butler can feel eyes on him. And eyes make him nervous :,) so when he gets nervous. he starts to scratch at his arms again and anxiety is too much for him to ask them to stop watching him

Friend It ends up with them just having to hold his hands, looking at random things (they can go sit on the balcony or something so they have something pretty to look at)

Me That hold on actually that's adorable-

Friend Fhhdjdjdjsjsj they're friends your honor

Me Absolutely Even Hubert contributes to keeping him safe. And Hubert's afraid of even being near Butler

Friend And then we get bonding via the oh no Billiam is busy and Hubert has to take care of Bu for the next 3 hours

Me GHDSFGSHFGS THAT IS A GREAT IDEA Butler insists he can do everything himself, nothing's different about the routine, and then he has a mental breakdown when he tries to make food without anyone else in the kitchen- Cause usually Hubert's there, even if he's making something else. There's at least another presence, and that's the sort of thing that's calming for Bu. But Hubert's off setting up the table for lunch/dinner or something and Butler makes One minor slip-up and spirals from there until he's struggling even handling spice mixing The same thing happened with cookies one time, and both times Hubert found him borderline unable to function because he panicked too much and helped him out of it.

Friend Butler is just curled up in the kitchen, trying to have a quiet panic attack because he can't cause the others any more trouble than he already is, and Hubert is very quietly upset about helping him because he was doing so good at avoiding Bu but here he is again being the only thing that's letting this kid breathe

Me Absolutely

Friend Do you think Bu passes out on him? Like Hubert (probably reluctantly) gives Butler a hug cause those help, and Bu was just supposed to stay there until he felt better, but panic attacks are exhausting and he fell asleep at some point-

Me Oh my gods he would though, especially with the amount of sleep he gets He'd have to try so hard to even stay conscious, much less do things in the manner he usually does, and Hubert just quietly tells him that it's okay to sleep; he'll take care of everything. Hu never forgets that of course Bu's always in danger around him - he has fleeting thoughts and quite often knows how to act on them - but he stands up holding an exhausted child and takes him to his room so he can rest. Butler may want him to stay; Endermen usually want someone around when sleeping. It's the security of having someone watch for nightmares, but Hubert doesn't stay. He has to go back to the kitchen and finish that meal Bu was making. But if he's still asleep by the time Hu's done with everything, he might linger outside his door, listening in for anything bad.

(Okay the cw is over now, you may now go back to your regularly scheduled content :,D)

Also, one last thing: Billiam gives Butler a bunch of gold things(including the masquerade mask) because that's what Piglins do with their sounders, they cover them in gold to show they care. And after Bu finding out the reason why Billiam's been handing off a bunch of gold things to him he does not cry, because that would hurt his face, but he does feel quite a lot of things that make him want to because holy shit Billiam feels the same

Butler is Billiam's sounder and Billiam is Butler's haunting, they are family your honor

#mod note #mod post #ask #anon #tftsmp billiam #tftsmp butler #tftsmp hubert #this is a. R E A L L Y . long post #THANK GOD FOR POST CUTS HUH #good god there is SO MUCH content in here #i just copy-pasted all my rambles from my dms-#my friends must suffer and now you will too <3

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justatiredpotato · 4 years ago

Text

Set Me Free | Chapter 4

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, implied abuse and sexual exploitation

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

You woke up the next morning delightfully warm. You shifted to tuck your nose back under the edge of the blanket, but found you were curling into someone’s back instead. Startled, you pushed yourself up on one elbow and blinked at the figure tucked against you. Your arm was wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, legs tangled together. You blushed and quickly detached yourself from him. He let out an almost childlike whimper and turned to try and pull you close again, but you tucked the blankets around him and moved out of his reach. How could you invade his space like that? You must’ve drank too much.

The air was cold even through your sweats as you climbed out of bed. It was still early morning. You never slept soundly when you drank. Figuring you wouldn’t be getting much more rest if you tried to go back to sleep, you started getting ready for the day. You quietly pulled out a simple fitted black dress and a baggy cardigan, creeping into the bathroom to slip them on over a pair of knit tights. After grabbing your work shoes you exited the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as you could so as not to wake a still sleeping Yoongi. The shop opened in about two hours, so you figured you could get some of the office work done before then.

You settled on the couch with your laptop and a notebook that held your accounts information, spending about a half hour making sure everything was balanced properly. You decided to spend the rest of the time reviewing your inventory and preparing the order for your supplier that month. As you stood to move to the kitchen, the bedroom door creaked open. A bleary-eyed Yoongi emerged, hair sticking up in all directions, partially obscuring his ears.

“Where’d you go?” he croaked, voice hoarse from crying the evening before. “Why didn’t you stay?” His eyes widened as he took you in, already in your work attire.

“Am I late?” he asked, suddenly awake.

“No! No, you’re off today.”

“Really? Why? I can work,” he said, almost sounding hurt.

“I have Jimin coming in today, don’t worry. Why don’t you work on your music today?”

He nodded, pondering. He seemed to acknowledge that it would be nice having some time to himself after yesterday's incident. You didn’t mention the fact that you were trying to hold off a bit longer before introducing him to the other boys. They were a bit energetic for Yoongi at the moment. You feared that Jimin’s affectionate nature would stress him out.

“Okay, well call me if it gets crowded. I can get ready and come out,” he eventually said.

“Thanks.” You smiled, walking over to ruffle his hair. “But don’t worry, this is my job.”

He mumbled some kind of acknowledgement, ducking his head but also pushing into your hand so you scratched his ears some more.

“Are you coming back here for lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll eat with you. I usually go at two, can you wait that long?” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be back then.” You turned and headed out front as he grabbed his bag and the bundle of papers you’d salvaged.

“Ah!” you exclaimed, turning on your heel. He jumped, looking at you questioningly. You hurried over to the bookshelf and pulled a notebook off of it. “Use this,” you offered, holding it out to Yoongi.

“Thanks,” he said, flipping through it and giving you a gummy grin. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to curl up next to him and ask him about his music. It felt like an actual tug at your heart, wanting to know the thoughts and feelings that he’d put to paper. You pushed the thought away, pulling your laptop closer to your chest.

“You’re welcome,” you said, turning to continue your way out front.

You went over inventory, finishing up about a half hour before opening. The order could be written up that night or the next morning so it could go out on Friday. You put your laptop aside and went out to the counter, making your regular coffee and Yoongi’s. You also made breakfast for the two of you.

He glanced up when you entered the room. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He flashed a smile, pulling one side of his headphones off his ear.

“Thanks!” he said, already going for a sip of his coffee.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you at lunch,” you said, already turning to leave.

“You aren’t staying for breakfast?” he asked a little sadly.

“I have to go let Jimin in and open,” you answered over your shoulder. “But it’ll be lunchtime soon. And maybe you can show me some of your music after I finish up tonight?” you asked hopefully.

“Sure,” he replied, running a hand through his hair and smoothing over his ears.

Jimin was already waiting outside when you returned to the cafe. He waved cheerfully as you jogged to unlock the door for him.

“Noona!” He tumbled into your arms as soon as the door was open. You laughed, squeezing him tight and rocking side-to-side with the hug.

“How’s my Chim Chim this morning?” you asked, burying your face in his hair as he held you. To anyone else you might’ve looked like a couple, but Jimin just really liked holding people and being held, always had. It seemed to help him heal when he first arrived at Jin’s shelter, and you had been one of the first people he grew close to.

“I’m good, I missed you though!” he answered, finally pulling away a little. “You spent the whole weekend with your new kitty friend!” he pouted.

“We had a few things to do so he could settle in.” You laughed at his obvious jealousy. As excited as he was about another cat hybrid in the family, you knew he’d be jealous too.

“Is that why you smell like him? Because it smells like you’ve been all over each other,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. You chuckled awkwardly pushing him away and rolling your eyes.

“We’re staying in the same tiny two room apartment. And I gave him my bed the first day, so that’s probably why.”

Jimin nodded dubiously, slipping past you and inside. He headed to the kitchen to put his backpack away while you locked the door so you could finish preparing for the day. Jimin took down the chairs and straightened the tables while you made him a coffee.

“You hungry?” you asked as you put the finishing touch on his mocha.

“Nah, I ate with Tae before I left.” He came back to the counter, accepted the beverage gratefully and took a sip.

“How’s he doing at the shelter?” you asked as you straightened cups and checked the register.

“He seems to like it. There are… hard parts of the job. But I can tell he feels good about helping people like he is there.” A sad smile flickered over his face. “He’s really strong, you know? Staying there, seeing all those things.”

You put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “You know there’s nothing wrong with you choosing to do something else? Not everyone is suited to a job like that,” you said gently. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“But you are doing it!” he said confidently. “With your new kitty friend. You’re totally helping him!”

You laughed, releasing him to go unlock the door. “He’s not ‘my new kitty friend.’ His name is Yoongi. Yoongi-hyung, to you,” you scolded. There was no real firmness in your tone though.

“Another hyung?” Jimin whined. “Man, I wanted someone to boss aro- I mean take care of.” He seemed pleased with his joke.

“Chim,” you turned your best older-sister-look on him. “Play nice.”

He pouted again. “I’m always nice!” he argued, but you could hear the barely-suppressed giggle in his voice. “When can I meet him?”

“I’m not sure yet. Whenever he’s ready, I guess.”

Jimin nodded understandingly.

The morning passed relatively slowly. The festival only made things slightly more busy than any other Wednesday. Around one, you ran back to your house to make Jimin lunch and brought it back out front for him. You made him eat in the kitchen. He complained, but you explained that Yoongi was working back in your apartment and you didn’t want to interrupt him.

You slipped away for your own lunch a little after two. Jimin was clearly miffed that you were allowed to disrupt Yoongi’s work. But the sulking you’d have to endure was all worth it when Yoongi’s face lit up at your arrival. He already had stuff out to make sandwiches, slicing up tomatoes and cheese.

“I’m not a great cook, but I figured I could make this for you,” he said sheepishly, gesturing to the sandwich that was already made on the counter next to him. You grinned, running over to wrap him in a side-hug. Once he finished his sandwich you settled at the table to eat. Your break seemed to be gone in a blink as you chatted about what Yoongi had been working on (he said it was a secret), and you told him about your latest dumb customer (this Karen who’d come in demanding a fat-free breve, claiming she got one at Barstucks all the time). His laugh gave you this fluttering in your stomach, leaving a warm and cozy feeling that you chose not to read into.

You glanced up at the clock, cursing under your breath. You stood quickly, the chair scraping a bit on the floor. You’d taken an extra 15 minutes.

“I’ve gotta go, Yoongi,” you said, already heading for the door. He hurried after you, catching your sleeve and wrapping you in a quick hug, so light you barely processed it had happened.

“I’ll show you some of my lyrics tonight,” he said. He waved you off as if you weren’t just going out to the front part of the building. You waved back, chuckling at the silliness of it.

When you returned to the front counter, Jimin fixed you with a questioning look, eyes sharp.

“Yeah, he’s totally not glued to you,” he said with a sniff. He rolled his eyes, laughing as he no doubt smelled Yoongi on your sweater from the hug a moment before. “You’re so whipped.”

You grumbled but didn’t argue, knowing he would only take a stronger denial as confirmation. You weren’t trying to have him give the other boys the wrong idea. You would never take advantage of Yoongi by trying anything with him. A customer mercifully pulled you from your ethical quandaries about relationships with dependent hybrids.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

By the time the last customer left and you and Jimin started cleaning up, you were eager to go check on Yoongi.

“You can go, Noona. I’ll finish up here,” Jimin offered.

“What? Why? I can help you finish up.”

“Just go see him. I’m sure he’s been waiting for you since the second you left anyway.” He snickered, eyes scrunching up with his smile.

You blushed, cursing hybrid noses and their ability to see right through people. You turned your back on him, energetically scrubbing at the counter. “Don’t be silly. If anything he’s waiting for dinner.”

“Well then you better not keep him waiting. Jin-hyung said he’s way skinny,” Jimin said.

You turned back to him, brows raised. “Jin told you about Yoongi?”

“Just a little. He said we should all help you so he can get better.” Jimin was already at your back, gently guiding you toward the kitchen. He pushed you through the door, toward your apartment. “Go take care of your boyfriend. I’ll lock up before I go.”

The kitchen door thudded shut behind you as he went back to cleaning up. If your face wasn’t red before it certainly was now. You took a second, hoping the embarrassment would fade along with the color in your cheeks, before continuing into the apartment. You were certainly surprised by what greeted you.

“Yoongi…?” you called, noting the set table with a couple dishes of food already on it. You started toward the kitchen just as Yoongi’s head popped up from behind the island, making you jump.

“You’re back!” He smiled nervously at you, a couple of glasses in his hand.

“What’s all this?” You reached the table and looked over the spread: spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a shockingly pretty salad.

“Ah, this?” he said, as if you might be talking about something else. “I just figured that since you were working all day I could do something around the house. I cleaned a bit, but I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to make dinner. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay? This is amazing!” You passed the table in favor of going and wrapping Yoongi in a tight hug. “I haven’t had someone make dinner for me in a long time! If I ever let Namjoon cook he’d burn down the house.” You felt Yoongi’s chuckle rumble in his chest, a faint rumble of a purr already starting as well.

“Well, I didn’t burn anything. I just hope it tastes alright.” He pulled away and led you over to the table. “I tried to do it just like the video, so I think it isn’t bad.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious!” You took your seat and watched as Yoongi returned to the kitchen for the glasses he’d been getting.

“The guy on Viewtube said wine goes with this. Does that sound good?”

“Sure! Whatever the chef recommends.” You eyed the food, and noted that Yoongi had even put on music in the background. Soft piano music played from his laptop on the counter. Yoongi grabbed the bottle of wine out of the fridge—which happened to be the only wine you had—and joined you at the table. He removed the cork and poured you each a glass, which you smiled and took.

You weren’t a big wine fan in all honesty. The bottle was just the remainder of a bottle Jimin had brought over a while ago. But you took a sip anyway, wanting to cooperate with what he’d prepared. Yoongi took the plate in front of you and started to serve the food, but you reached out to stop him.

“You don’t have to, I can get it myself,” you said.

“It’s okay, I want to do it.” His gummy smile made you sit back down. You smiled as he spun the pasta, something he must’ve picked up from the Viewtube tutorial. He set your plate in front of you with a hint of a proud smile, then made a plate for himself.

You glanced at him to find he was watching expectantly, clearly wanting to see your reaction. So you spun your noodles and took a bite. Your eyebrows rose as you looked at him, chewing for a moment.

“Edible?” he asked.

“Very edible. Delicious actually!”

He beamed at the praise, taking a bit himself. He gave a thoughtful hum, considering for a moment. “Not bad. I think the sauce should be thicker though? The guy in the video’s sauce was definitely thicker.”

“Maybe you can tweak the recipe a bit to get it just how you like it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. “I think you have real talent for this, Yoon.”

“Thanks, noona. Maybe I’ll try something new my next day off.”

“That sounds great. I appreciate this so much, truly.” You ate in pleasant silence for a moment before a thought struck you. “Did you get to work on your music today? I hope you didn’t just do housework.”

“Yeah, I got some stuff done. I can show you some tracks I’ve made after dinner, if you’re interested.”

“I would love that!”

“Actually… This is something I made.”

You blinked at him, not quite getting it. “This?”

“Yeah, the piano music. It’s all my stuff.” He nodded towards his beat up laptop, still playing soft melodies from the counter.

“All these songs have been yours?”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, none of them are finished or anything. I don’t really have the tools I need to make a polished track. These ones don’t even have lyrics yet. And I don’t know any vocalists to do the melody. But I thought they would be good enough for backgr-”

“Yoongi.” You interrupted his ramble. “They’re beautiful. All of them. I had no idea you wrote stuff like this.”

The way you looked at him, truly amazed, made him shift in his seat. He didn’t know what to do with a compliment to his work, which was so dear to him. He cleared his throat before he spoke, not wanting to sound too... He didn’t even know what. “Thanks,” he finally said before quickly returning to his meal.

Once you’d both finished dinner you helped him clear the table and do the dishes. As you put the last plate in the cupboard you glanced at him expectantly. He snorted, grabbing his laptop and heading to the living room. You smiled and hurried after him. He opened his laptop, and seemed to steel himself, before turning to you.

“Now remember, these aren’t finished or polished or anything. I don’t have the tools or the skill to really make these good so don’t-”

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Stop selling yourself short. I’ve heard you perform. You’re really talented. And the songs you played during dinner? Amazing. So stop dissing yourself!”

Yoongi’s serious expression turned into a smirk. “Dissing myself?” The smirk turned into a grin, and you couldn’t help but start laughing. Any nerves he felt about showing you his work faded into the background as he laughed with you. Once you caught your breath, he played the first song he wanted to show you. You bopped along to a high energy club beat, then an intense diss track. Yoongi could spit rap so fast you almost couldn’t keep up, yet every word was clear. You glanced up at him as he focused on the computer screen, realizing how truly talented he was. A slightly slower tune with a driving beat behind it came on, something in the realm of a sexy slow-jam. Your eyebrows shot up, face heating along with the whole room as you listened. You weren’t expecting his lyrics to be so… bold.

The song ended and Yoongi clicked around a bit, glancing at you and noting your expression. “What did you think?” He was clearly nervous, but also proud of his work.

You smiled at him, trying to school your expression. If he noticed your flustered state, he was kind enough not to comment. “I would definitely dance to that. Or buy tickets to that concert.”

He grinned a gummy smile, a laugh escaping him. “I don’t think we’re anywhere near that yet. But I appreciate the thought.” He looked back at the screen, queuing up something else. “Okay, this one is a bit different than the other stuff. It’s not as… up as the other stuff. But I wanted to try writing something real. I don’t know if it’s any good, so tell me what you think.” He pressed play.

A soft piano melody began, and you quickly recognized it as something he’d played at dinner. But it quickly became clear this was a newer version of the piece as a base synth came in. After a moment of piano, Yoongi’s lyrics began. His voice was more familiar as the Yoongi you knew, not the cocky club persona from the other songs.

As you listened you felt your heart clench with every word. This wasn’t a song, it was a story. His story. He told you about moments, flashes of love and joy, broken and torn away by loss and violence. His voice strained, trying not to break as he told of greed and hate and finally, emptiness. When so much pain builds up that you are hollow. With nothing left to push you forward, you only need the tiniest push to send you over the edge and into oblivion.

You sat for a moment, looking at the coffee table in front of you but your mind was far away. Yoongi wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you looked up at him. His eyes were wide with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning your face before wiping at it with the sleeve of his sweater. You hadn’t realized you were crying. You didn’t answer him, instead you pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed to understand because he didn’t press you further. The two of you stayed like that for quite a while.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

It was just you and Jimin again on Thursday. Business was picking up as the weekend approached, so you were kept busy with customers almost constantly throughout the day. At noon you ran back to check on Yoongi, but you didn’t even have time to take a real lunch.

Mid-afternoon there was a bit of a lull. You had just slipped back into the kitchen to take a breath and drink the coffee you’d made yourself when a customer out front caught your attention.

“Is your owner here?” the man asked. His voice wasn’t very deep, but his tone was imposing, almost threatening.

“I beg your pardon?” Jimin responded politely.

“Your owner. I want to speak to them.”

“You mean the shop owner?” The man must’ve nodded because Jimin called for you a second later. You came out of the kitchen and looked over the man in question.

He was average height, but stocky. The suit he wore was probably expensive, and you could see a fine gold chain peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. You glanced up to meet his eye and were surprised to find a generally handsome face. A tattoo crept out from under his collar, under his jaw, and up behind his ear. He looked you over in return, mouth curving into a smile, but it had no warmth behind it. Actually, it almost sent a shudder through you.

“Are you the owner?” he asked.

“I am. How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a lost hybrid. A client of mine mentioned she saw him here?”

You frowned, glancing at Jimin but making sure your unease didn’t cross your face. “A hybrid? I can’t think who you’d be talking about. Maybe he came in with a customer?”

“No, she said he was working here.” The man dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “This one, a cat. Name’s Suga, but he calls himself Yoongi sometimes,” he said, turning the phone to show you. The image you saw made your stomach drop. The photo was dimly lit by pink and purple neon lights, but you still easily recognized the boy in the photo. It was Yoongi, curled up on the floor against a couch. He was in just a thin t-shirt and underwear, obviously trying to avoid the camera. You schooled your expression before meeting the man's eyes again, feeling nauseous.

“I can’t say I’ve seen him. My friend here is a cat hybrid, so maybe she mistook him for this guy?” You glanced at Jimin, who nodded. He looked uncomfortable, probably sensing your anxiety.

The man sneered. “Believe me, she wouldn’t mistake this kid for any other kitty.”

You cringed internally but put on a polite, apologetic smile. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t be of more help.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll check in with the local patrol station. You know how the police have been cracking down on strays. When they find him they’ll get him right back to me.” You nodded tightly at him, still trying to keep a smile. “Let me know if you see him,” he said, pushing a business card across the counter to you. The name on it was Kwon Hyunjoong. You nodded and the man bid you farewell, You watched until he exited the shop and the door settled shut behind him.

You turned to Jimin. “Call Jin and Namjoon,” you said, already moving back to the apartment. You burst through the door, startling Yoongi from his place at the kitchen table. He pulled his headphones off and stood, walking to meet you by the door.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His brows were furrowed as he looked you over. “What’s wrong?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and that was when you realized you were shaking. You looked at him, panic in your eyes.

“There was a guy looking for you,” you blurted. You took a deep breath, but it ended up more of a sob. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath. “He had a picture of you. And he’s going to the police. He said they’ll find you and take you back to him and I said I hadn’t seen you but…”

Yoongi stopped you from saying any more, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair.

“Woah, woah. Slow down,” he said. He was trying to sooth you but you could feel how he’d begun shaking as well, muscles tense as you clutched his shirt. “He doesn’t know I’m here right? And you said you hadn’t seen me.”

“That woman. That disgusting b**** told them she saw you. That you were working here. Yoongi, do they have papers? Can they take you? Oh god, even if they don’t I’m not sure what I can do. What if I can’t protect you? I promised I’d keep you safe and now I- I-” You dissolved into gasping sobs, imagining the police coming and dragging Yoongi out of your home. If they had evidence that they ‘owned’ him, or even had in the past, there’d be nothing you could do. Most of the police didn’t care, and you had no legal right to protect him. “I have to protect you,” you cried. You held him so tightly he winced a little, but he just held you closer.

Your sobs had quieted a bit and you were catching your breath when a knock came on the apartment door. Yoongi carefully disengaged from your arms and had you sit on the couch while he went to get the door. He glanced through the peep-hole before opening it to reveal Jin and Namjoon, along with Jungkook. Namjoon surveyed the older man, who was shaking, eyes puffy and watery. Then he glanced over Yoongi’s shoulder and spotted you curled up on the couch, trembling. He hurried past Yoongi and over to you, the others trailing behind him. You looked up at him as he crouched in front of you.

“Joon…” you whimpered weakly. He pulled you into his arms without a word. You started crying again, sobs renewed when you glanced up to see Jungkook with his arm around a terrified Yoongi. “You have to help me Joon. We have to keep him safe. We can’t let them take him.”

Namjoon glanced up at Jin, before gently pulling away from you. “Can you tell us what’s going on? Jimin only explained a little on the phone.” You nodded, sniffling and taking a shaky breath.

“Jungkook, why don’t you go help Jimin out front?” Jin said. The younger boy nodded, giving Yoongi’s shoulder one last squeeze before hurrying out to the cafe.

Yoongi came to join you and Namjoon on the couch, leaning close to you. Namjoon glanced at him and removed his arm from your shoulders, taking your hand instead. Yoongi quickly wrapped you in his arms, nuzzling into your neck in an attempt to soothe you. Jin sat in the armchair across from you. They waited patiently for you to gather yourself before you started talking. You told them the whole story.

“I don’t know how to keep him safe. Legally, I can’t do anything for you, Yoongi.” Your free hand came up to clutch at his arm, still wrapped tightly around you. “I can’t protect you without legal guardianship. You know how the police have been about so-called ‘strays’. Without papers, they’ll take you to a shelter and notify your previous owners. They’ll take you and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.” You released Namjoon’s hand, tears returning as you turned into Yoongi’s chest again and held him tightly.

“Well the easy solution would be to have her adopt you,” Jin said. He looked at Yoongi expectantly. That was the obvious solution, but you knew how Yoongi would feel about it. You felt him stiffen in your arms and you cried harder.

“Yoon, I know you don’t want an owner. And I don’t want to own you. But I can’t lose you. Please, please, I just want to keep you safe.” The room was silent as your pleas hung in the air for a moment.

Yoongi let out a shaky sigh. “Okay.” You froze, suddenly quiet except for the occasional hiccuping breath. “I trust you, noona,” he affirmed. “I… want you to adopt me.”

You pulled away to look him in the eye, scanning for hesitation. But as hard as those words must’ve been for him to say, you couldn’t see a trace of doubt on his face. He smiled softly at you and you smiled back, tears still falling.

“Thank you,” you choked out and he held you close again, burying his face in your hair. You turned to look at Jin. “When can I sign?”

“You got a computer and a printer?” he asked, already standing from his chair. Less than an hour later you were all seated at the table, papers printed and pens in hand. Jin had been able to pull up Yoongi’s records from the database online. Luckily, his former owners hadn’t bothered to keep the papers up-to-date since they first ‘acquired’ him years ago, so nothing was preventing you from adopting him. You signed, and Yoongi placed his fingerprint on the document.

“I’m going to run these to the registration office before they close. I’m signing as a reference, so luckily we can forego a background check or interviews as a first time owner,” Jin said, already standing and heading for the door. “Unfortunately, they’ll want you to have tags. But you only have to have them when you go out. They make earrings now too.”

“That’s what Jungkook and Tae have,” Namjoon added. “They’re actually pretty cool looking, for what it is.”

Yoongi nodded, clearly not thrilled with the idea of wearing a tag again. But when he saw the remorseful look on your face he smiled at you. “It’s okay, noona. Look, my ears are already pierced anyway.”

You looked and sure enough, he already had earrings: three on one side, two on the other. “We’ll get whichever one you want. Maybe we can find one that just looks like a regular earring,” you suggested hopefully.

#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #hybrid!au #cafe!au #hybrid!yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi

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enbeemagical · 4 years ago

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Happy Aro Pride Day!!

As part of the Aro Pride Collab with @siriuslyremus @mossypebbles @logandeservesbetter @marathegreat @emmytheace @fandom-trashowo, I also wrote a Dragon Prince fic! Part one is complete, part two will be out when I finish it, hopefully soon.

Summary: Aaravos is asexual, aromantic, and sex-repulsed. Inspired by the vast amount of fics where Aaravos makes things spicy very quickly, my being a sex-repulsed aroace, and a what if. Roughly 2.4k words.

PART ONE

Aaravos is eleven years old when the human and elven children his age announce their first crushes. He does not have a crush, so he says it must work differently for Startouches, since they have such long lifespans.

Aaravos is sixteen years old when his caretakers finally realize he is going through puberty and sit him down for The Talk. The physical changes part he's already figured out. He doesn't understand the other part at all. Why would someone want to put their body next to another's in such a way when simple cuddling is likely far more comfortable?

Aaravos does not like not knowing things. He takes a dozen or so books on biology to his room, and spends weeks studying them. He still does not understand. The books seem to say that is enjoyable, but the pictures look rather uncomfortable.

At nineteen, Aaravos finally claims a crush: a shy, curly-haired human boy his age who clearly admires Aaravos. Aaravos enjoys this admiration– and who is to say he does not have a crush? No one else can know what he feels, and for all he knows this is what a crush is supposed to feel like.

The two have been together almost two months when the other boy brings up… physical intimacy.

They do not make it to their two-month anniversary.

Aaravos faces more questions about his intimate life as he gets older, and more beautiful. "How is such a one as you still alone?" "Do you not desire companionship?" "Books cannot provide the same company as another person…." "Have you ever done it?"

For his twenty-sixth birthday, Aaravos gets a cat. He names her Diamond.

Dia never once tells Aaravos that he should get out more, that he will be lonely without a partner. She does not attempt to pull him from his books and his stars. She asks only that he keep her dish full and her box clean, and in return she sits on his lap or his feet as he reads, purring all the while.

He reaches forty, still alone save for Dia, having connected to both Sun and Moon as well as Stars.

"You will be alone forever!" one of his human friends tells him exasperatedly. She is also forty, with a wife and three children.

"My lifespan is more than twenty times yours," Aaravos replies. "Should I ever desire a romantic or sexual partner, I have much time to find one." He has no intention of ever doing so.

"You'll like it," his friend promises. "Try it someday, Aaravos."

Aaravos rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Perhaps I shall," he says, with no intent of doing so.

✨💚✨

Despite his best efforts, Dia is only a cat, and a cat's life is not so long as an elf's. His constant companion and forever supporter exits his life on the same day she came into it, and for the first time, Aaravos is alone on his birthday.

He hates being alone. And so, for the first time, he tries sex. Perhaps it truly does work as his friends believe it to. Perhaps it will make him feel better.

He feels even worse afterwards. Dirty, violated. He consented fully to the experience, sought it out even, and he cannot figure out why he still feels as though he did not.

Never again.

He retreats even further into his studies for a time, refining his mastery of the Sun and Moon, and connecting to Earth, Sky, and Ocean.

Aaravos has been alone for decades. Sometimes he misses other people. Contact with another living being. Sometimes he is content alone, and sometimes he aches with the wish, the need to hear another voice, to touch another being. Elf, human, cat, horse, it does not matter…. Aaravos is lonely.

He returns to society. It is awkward at first, speaking to others after so long. All his old friends are dead, he learns, and though he is sad there is also a spark of something else.

He can reinvent himself. Be anyone he wants to be. He does not need to be the awkward Aaravos he was, the boy whose ears and cheeks turned crimson at the mention of crushes or sex, the young man who was constantly on edge from the feeling of eyes following him, the man who threw himself into his studies as a way to escape constant questions. He can be anyone.

It happens gradually, almost without thought. A woman compliments his beauty, and before he can reconsider he says, "Oh, I know,” adding after a moment’s thought, “I thank you for noticing."

She smiles and nods silently, cheeks flushing.

A one-off interaction, or so Aaravos thinks. But later, when he is at dinner at an enchanting little café in Lux Aurea, another person comes up to him. Putting their hand on his table, they say, "Are you single?"

Aaravos pauses, looking up and quirking one eyebrow. "Why?" He smirks, lowering his eyelids. "Are you interested?" Stars, why did he just say that? What if they think he wants– that?

The human's eyes widen slightly, and Aaravos sees the dark blush spreading over their neck. Did he cause that? The thought gives him a sensation of– of power, of control. He is not the one blushing crimson, not now.

"Maybe I am," the human says in an almost sing-song voice. "Depends on if you are, I suppose."

What is the human getting at? "And what precisely is it you are asking me for?" he returns, voice light. Is this flirting? he wonders. Am I flirting with them?

"May I take you out for lunch tomorrow?" the human says.

They are interested then. Aaravos does not have much money at the moment, which he hopes to remedy soon. In the meantime, he still has to eat, and, well, they offered.

At lunch the next day, Aaravos watches carefully for signs that the human– he has already forgotten their name, so he calls them “starling,” which they seem to like– wants something from him in return for the meal. But, they seem only to want to talk, and listen. He guards his words at first, but they are surprisingly easy to talk to, and he finds his tongue loosening more and more.

He is enjoying this.

He stays in Lux Aurea for a time, continuing to date the human whose name, he finally remembers, is Tess. They help him get a job where he can use his magic: architecture. The new city never seems to have enough architects or builders. Sometimes Tess will take Aaravos out, sometimes he will take them out.

After a time, he moves into their house. Both of them enjoy this new arrangement, Aaravos especially because they have separate rooms.

Now they are living together, there is much more casual physical contact. Aaravos does not like this, but he does not mind it.

Their relationship lasts about a year of living together before Aaravos and Tess separately decide to tell each other, on the same night, that it is not working out. They laugh at their timing, and agree to remain friends.

✨💚✨

Aaravos begins traveling Xadia then, never staying in one place longer than a couple moon cycles. He finds he enjoys this, the freedom of not being pinned down. Wherever he goes, he will use his skills to barter for food and lodging, or use his magic to gain those directly. He acquires new skills occasionally, and practises these as he goes. “A jack of all trades, a master of none,” the saying goes, “is sometimes better than a master of one.” Aaravos, however, is no human. He has time to master many trades, and he does.

He speaks however he pleases, finding another kind of freedom in flirting with no sense of obligation. He will be moving on in a matter of days, after all; he will not know anyone long enough to care whether they take his flirtations too seriously. And if anyone moves on him, he will simply… move on.

When the constant moving around and learning of new names and customs becomes too much for him, Aaravos retreats back to the Star nexus, where he stays until the loneliness becomes too great to bear. Then he is off again, as charming, flirty, and witty as ever.

He’s stopped keeping track of the years. Sometimes, someone will ask when his birthday is. He has it written down somewhere, but as he never bothers to check, he’ll usually ask the date and say, in great surprise, “Why, it is today!”

Aaravos mostly sticks to smaller cities and villages, whether human or elf. He notices that even the bigger human settlements are dirtier and poorer than the elven ones, and in the cities with both humans and elves, high-ranking humans are rare.

“This is the way it’s always been,” he hears every time he asks.

But it is not the way it must be.

Aaravos knows he can be charming and persuasive. He is beautiful, which does not hurt, but his voice and his intellect are what really matter. His voice is deep and smooth; he knows that when he speaks people hear the truth whether he speaks it or no. His mind is better. He is clever with his words, somehow knowing what his listener wants to hear. How to turn them to his cause. His magic, too, is powerful, a weapon many would kill to have.

And he finally knows why he has been given these gifts.

He journeys to the mountain called the Storm Spire, and requests an audience with Queen Azare. At first, the Dragonguard denies him, but he insists the queen will want to see him, even demonstrating his mastery of all six Primal sources. A guard leaves to ask the queen, and Aaravos waits, cracking jokes and seeing how hard he needs to flirt to make the stoic guards blush (very hard, actually), until the elf returns with the news that Aaravos is to be allowed in under guard.

Apparently this means something different than it seems to, for two elves grab his arms before he can react, and place wide metal bracelets on his wrists. They do not restrict his movement, but they are uncomfortable.

“What are these for?” He raises his arms, smirking. “Not exactly my style. I prefer sterling silver, in case you wish to get me a better gift. Iron isn’t really the best metal to give someone you want to ask out.”

“None of us are asking you out,” one guard snaps, causing a younger guard to blush and mumble something under her breath. “Those are magic restricting cuffs. No one does magic in the queen’s presence without her explicit permission.”

“Hm.” Aaravos draws a quick rune, which fails to even appear in front of him. “It seems they are.” He gives a short laugh to cover his rising panic. Stars, he needs to work on his physical fighting skills more. “Shall we proceed?”

Aaravos learns several things that day. Namely, that the Dragon Queen cares little for the plight of more than half her subjects, and even less for the charms of a certain Startouch elf. Not even his offer of service sways her.

“‘Humans are humans,’” he grumbles to himself as he leaves. “‘Their lives are too short to be changed by any effort on my part, so why should I try?’ Damned stuck-up uncaring spiteful dragoness!”

After that, Aaravos keeps mostly to human villages, staying longer and doing more to help. He cannot do anything about the systems that keep humans below elves, however, not like this.

He retreats to his nexus again, to study not magic, but politics, wars, government.

When he emerges, he finds there is a new dragon queen, this one an Earth dragon. He meets with her, but she claims there must be a reason humans are not equal to elves. If they were truly equal to elves, she argues, they would not be considered lesser. Yet they are, so they must be.

Aaravos points out the flaws in her logic, very nicely, and attempts to leave, only to be flung in jail. He works on charming his way out, but they continually rotate his guard, and that makes it very difficult. Until there is a regular guard. He flirts with her as hard as he can, but she never reacts.

“How can you simply ignore me?” he cries one day in frustration. “Am I so long imprisoned that I have lost my ability to flirt? Or is your heart simply so hardened from being a guard to that cruel queen you do not care?”

She looks at him for the first time since she entered. “I am aroace,” she says simply. “Your charms cannot work on me, Archmage.”

This is a new word to Aaravos. “Ah-row-ace?” he asks questioningly. “I’ve not heard this word before.”

A trace of a smile crosses the guard’s lips. “It’s a relatively new word, coined in the past, oh, fifty or so years. You’ve been here nearly a century, so I’m not surprised. It means aromantic asexual.”

Those words… Aaravos remembers reading them somewhere, but he cannot remember what they meant. He asks the guard, and she is all too happy to explain.

Aaravos enjoys her explanation past only the sound of another voice and the definitions. He feels… seen. The words resonate within him strangely, and he is silent for the rest of this guard’s shift.

He sleeps through the next few shifts, waking when the aroace guard returns.

“I have been thinking about what you said,” he tells her.

“Oh?” She raises one eyebrow at him.

He smiles. “I think I am aroace as well.” The word feels strange in his mouth, but oddly right. Like his name, like the title Archmage, it seems to fit him, settling around him comfortingly. He is not broken. He never was. He is aroace.

How strange, that he should realize he is whole in a place meant to break him.

✨💚✨

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dyke-remy · 4 years ago

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Live And Let Die, part 3

Part 1 part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Cw: Described assasination

Words: 3832

The sun had just about risen when the agents woke up. It was the morning after the mission and they were laying cuddled up in the hotel bed. Remus had plopped himself on top of Remy and wrapped his arms around them like usual. He said it was to snuggle while they slept but it was really so that he could act as a human shield for them even in sleep.

"g'mornin my dear dead heart of min-" Remus began to mumble out but Remy placed a finger over his mouth to shut him up.

He laid still and listened. The sound of someone opening the door to the hotel room could be heard followed by quiet steps. The agents glanced at each other. From the angle Remy was laying at they couldn't see much except for the ceiling and their husband's face. Remus slowly moved his hand under the pillow and grabbed the knife he'd hidden under it just in case.

The footsteps continued until they stopped by the side of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye Remus saw the person move making his instincts go off. In one swift motion he'd turned around to press the knife against the enemy's neck.

"What a charming greeting 008" Q also known as Logan muttered out. He eyed the knife held against his neck with an unimpressed look on his face. He had a black briefcase with him.

"Q!!!" Both of the Rems let out a happy exclaim.

"You should have said you were coming!" Remy said while sitting up in the bed.

"That's what she said" Remus added.

"I wasn't going to but then I figured it would be for the best if this mission got another step"

Remus moved the blanket aside and patted the spot between the two Rems "Cuddle up motherfucker!"

"008 please put some pants on. I've seen That thing enough for a lifetime" Q stated before sitting down in the middle.

The Rems promptly latched onto him. Hugging him. Remy ran their hand through his pressed down curly hair. Remus nibbled kisses by the start of his neck.

"So 008, you said in your report from yesterday that the man who held the real copy of the keys to Picani's room was named Ron Stewart correct?"

"Yeah"

"Well I discovered that he is on a train today towards Lithuania along with cargo for his company. His company is stated as an electricity manufacturer but it didnt take a lot of research to find he also has ties to something else. I am not sure of what yet but it is earning him a lot of income. For your information Picani's mission before he was killed was to find solid evidence of what this side business was"

Remy held back a wince at the mention of Picani "Aight easy. We get on the train. I Kill him. We figure out like what the fuck he's up to and like revenge Emile. Piece of cake" Remus nodded along.

"Yes well" Q opened the briefcase "In other news I took a few gadgets with me to aid you" He took out a pair of black high heels and handed them to Remy "Same function as always. Black like you requested"

"It's 'cause black tots goes with like anything"

A small box, not bigger than a thumb, was up next. Q opened it slightly to show white pills inside before giving it to Remy "I've tried to make it so the taste of poison is even less subtle"

The enby got a sinister smile on their face "They won't know what hit them!"

Remus dragged in Logan's sleeve "Me time!! I want gadgets too!!!"

Q nodded before taking out a long thin black straw and gave it to the duke "Be careful. Please! This is your 7th laser so don't break it. It's not a knife. It's not a stick. It's a laser. It heats things up. It doesn't cut through things. It heats them up. Please I don't want to have to make another one"

The duke looked at it with a giddy smile before looking up. A few moments of silence went by before his smile disappeared "That's all? I only get 1 gadget???? Rem got 2! You're playing favorites just 'cause you fuck them!"

"No. I am playing favorites because they don't break their gadgets!........But I do actually have another gadget for the both of you"

Q took out 2 pens and several coins. He sat the coin as far away on the blanket as he could. He pressed down on a specfic point on it before leaning back and pressing the pen up and down 5 times. The coin exploded leaving a hole in the blanket. The Rems let out oooohs and ahhhhs in response.

"Explosives. Each coin causes 1 explosion. Right now I'll give you 20 to use but you can always request more. Oh and 008" He took out 2 packages of pills "You forgot you stimulants" It was to help him focus better, his lil autistic rat brain wasn't good at that "And antidepressants at the base again so I thought I'd bring them to you"

"Aww thanks Q. How caring!"

"No problem. As your quartermaster I must care for you after all. INcluding caring for your mental health. Well I wish you good luck on your mission"

The Rems glanced at each other before sending Q puppy eyes. "You can wish us good luck better than that can't you?"

Logan let out an amused sigh and rolled his eyes before nodding. He gave Remus a kiss on the lips before doing the same to Remy. He was aro and didn't see kissing as a serious thing, neither did the Rems. The kissing before missions was just a nice tradition.

Remy traced their finger over their lips "I already have a feeling this mission will go splendid"

3 hours later Remy was sitting by a luxurious vanity in front of a mirror. They were meticulously filling in their lips with cheery red lipstick. Remus came up from behind and put his hands on their shoulders before leaning down to press a kiss to their cheek.

The enby took the blade laying on the vanity and held it up to his face "Dear if you kiss me now you'll ruin my make up and I will have to kill you for that"

"Sounds like a sweet death" He teased in return.

"If I wanted to make it a sweet one I would"

Remus glanced around at the make up products while putting on an overly extra pout "Why can't I ever get to be the lady???"

"Hun you have a giant caterpillar on your upper lip and it is the bane of my existance. If you could just let me shave it off-"

The duke gasped and covered his precious mustache with his hands "NEVER!!!"

" Well it would make disguising you much easier. If some baddie sees you once they're gonna remember that nasty ass muschie for like months! And secondly you don't really have like the right bone structure. Like girl you would look like the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen but you wouldn't look like the kind of gal these dirtbags want y'know?"

"I know"

Remy leaned their head against his chest and smiled up at him. "When we get home I can make you look nice and pretty kay? I'll evem lend you my fav mini skirts...As long as your dumptruck ass doesn't destroy them"

Remus grinned and let out a giddy laugh "OHOHOHOH let's get these bitches killed so we can get home PLEase!!"

After another half hour Remy was ready to go. They'd hidden a blade on their left thigh and stuck the box of pills on the side of their underwear. Remus took them by the arm and they walked out into the hallway of the train. They looked around various mini suites before coming out into a bigger cart. The bar.

Blue satin sheets framed the windows. Sunlight strimmed in onto dark wooden tables with comfortable seats surrounding them. The bar was ornate and it's menu was filled with expensive cocktails.

The enby bumped their elbow into their husband's ribs before pointing over to a booth in the corner. There Ron Stewart sat alone with a bowl of olives and a beer.

Remus mumbled a quiet 'you got this' before letting go off their arm. He sat down by the bar at such an angle so he could watch Stewart without it being noticeable. He ordered a glass of water and began to sprinkle copious amount of salt and pepper into it as he watched Remy go up to Stewart. Their body language was completely different. He overheard something about coincidences and seeing him at the casino. It didn't take long until Stewart had moved so Remy could sit down next to him.

The duke let out a content sigh and looked out the window. It was in quiet moments like these, while waiting for his spouse to do what they did best, that he admired them more than ever. All he could do was sit and think about how much he loved them. How he loved Every part of them. Thinking and thinking until it felt like his heart would burst.

It wasn't until someone bumped into him he got out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Remy leaning on the bar.

"Vodka martini. Shaken not stirred please" Remy ordered.

Remus poked his elbow into their ribs plafully "Dork. Using my dad's catchphrase like that" He teased with a smirk.

They rolled their eyes at him before adding "And you can place a bottle of champange in suite 17!"

While the bartender worked on it the enby sat down next to Remus. They looked in the other direction while speaking so Stewart wouldn't notice.

"He's involved in human trafficking. That's where his like money comes from. Was supa easy to get it out of him. Dirty bastard. Didn't get what is in the cargo but he joked that it wasn't human at least"

"Okay good!" Remus exclaimed "So we go to the cargo see whats up. And then when we're done we can go back and arrest Stewart when we're done. Easy peasy pumpkin pie motherfucker"

Remy dug their nails down into the table so hard it left marks "Nah I'm murdering him now"

Remus opened his mouth before closing it again and thinking. He decided the wise and only choice was to support his spouse in their killing ways "Okay yeah sure. Have fun. If you're not back in 15 minutes I'll assume something has gone wrong and will come help"

They sent him a small smile "Thanks babe"

They downed the martini in one sweep and took a deep breathe before putting on their fake smile again. They went back to Stewart. All it took was a few flirty comments while leaning close to him to get him to walk with them to his room. Like a lamb blissfully going to the slaughter.

The champagne had been set on the bedside table in a bucket of ice like they'd requested. Stewart sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the place next to him. Remy obediently sat down. A taste of nausea filled their mouth when he placed his hand on their inner thigh. But they kept their facade of liking it up. Kept it up even as he whispered what he wanted to do with them into their ear and pressed kisses to their neck.

Remy leaned away when he tried to go for a kiss on the mouth "Shall I get the champange Dear?"

He eagerly nodded in return. They got up and made sure to move slow. They cast a look back at him while moving their dress up up to their right hip, just enough so a bit of their underwear showed. They ran their hand under their underwear line feeling where the small box they'd hidden laid. The box with poisonous pills in it.

They kept their expression the same as they caught hold of the box and in one smooth motion hid it under their bracelet. They kept their dress up as they poured up the champange. Out of the corner of their eye they could see Stewart only looking at their thighs so they took the opppurtunity to let a single white pill go down into one of the drinks.

It dispersed in the drink in under a second. They made a mental note to give Q an extra kiss for his excellent job the next time they saw him. They gave the glass to him before sitting down to straddle his lap.

"Cheers" Remy said.

"Cheers baby"

Their smile widened as they watched him drink. They waited until he'd emptied the glass before smashing their own glass against his skull. Stewart barely had time to let out a yell before they'd pushed him down with his back against the bed. They laid their weight on hips to keep him down while forcing his arms over his head.

"What are you-" Stewart didn't finish his sentence. He let out a strange sound as his face began to turn red. The poison was setting in.

Remy took the blade from their thigh and held it up to his neck. Close enough to let out droplets of blood but not close enough to cut him open.

"When I got home after staying out all night for the first time my moms cried of relief because they were sure I'd been taken by human traffickers working for the likes of you. I've had friends go missing just 'cause people like you think no one will notice if a homeless person disappears" They growled out.

"I will-" He forced out.

"Honey you won't do shit" Remy interrupted. They let out a cold chuckle "You'll lay there and wait to see if the poison or-" They cut the knife into his neck with such precision it hit the veins just enough to open them, like they'd done a hundred times before "the blood loss kills you first"

Stewart couldn't say anything more. He was choking on air and blood at the same time. The white satin sheets turned red as Remy sat still and watched every slight change in his expression. It went from anger to a pained one to complete fear of death.

His legs kicked to instinctively try and get Remy off and his hands flailed around his neck to try and stop the bleeding but it was to no avail. Soon his limbs stopped moving and the desperate sounds he'd been letting out quieted. Before finally his eyes became glossy and he stopped blinking. The blood had stopped dripping out.

"Blood loss huh" Remy said to of course no answer.

They stood up and hid the blade under their dress again. They let out an annoyed groan when they noticed blood stains on the dress. They'd liked this one! They searched around the room for anything useful.

In the drawer of the nightstand they found a key card to the cargo section of the train. They gave themself a pat on the back and was about to leave when they saw a document that had laid next to the key. They stuffed it down their top to keep it for later. Q was usually the one who told them if a document was important or not.

Remus shone up into a big goofy grin when he saw his spouse return. He held himself back from giving them a big long kiss. They took his hand, intertwined their fingers, and pulled him along to the small passage leading up to the cargo parts of the train.

There was a thick metal door stopping them from entering the cargo part. With a triumphant smirk Remy pulled out the key card and unlocked out while Remus gave them a small round of applause.

008 kept his gun ready in his hand as he entered the first cargo train with 009 right behind him. There were 2 guards who both immediately reached for their guns. Remus shot one of them at the same time Remy threw their blade into the neck of the other.

The couple high fived. Remy was using the new gadget high heels Q had given them. They took the heels off so the high heel turned into a normal shoe, it somewhat looked like a ballet shoe. Inside the heels 2 more blades were hidden.

The train was empty aside from a few meaningless boxes but there were one more cargo cart to look through. "How about I stay here and make sure no like bitches come at you from this side and you continue to the rest of the like cargo?" Remy suggested.

"Sounds like a plan!"

Remus pressed a kiss to the top of their forehead before quickly continuing on to the small outside part connecting the two carts. Remy closed the door behind him.

He pressed his ear against the door to the next cart. There were footsteps coming from the other side. He rolled up his sleeves before jumping up and just about grabbing on to the edge of the cart's roof. With a strained groan he heaved himself up. The wind nearly knocked him over as soon as he stood up. It was the last cart so whatever was important in the cargo section had to be in there.

The roof was made out of metal. Remus took out the black laser. He was careful to not point it at himself as he moved it against the roof. When he turned it a spark went off before it's cold blue almost fire looking laser burried down into the roof.

Slowly the metal began to melt. He moved it just as slowly around in a square motion. Until it had melted enough that he was able to move it. He made sure the laser created a small hole, just about to press a few fingers in, before turning it off. He covered his hands in the fabric of his shirt and let out a grunt as he grabbed onto the hole in the metal and moved it until a small opening down into the carriage had been made.

He peered down and like he'd suspected there were at least 10 guards inside. All of them were heavily armed. There was no way Remus would be able to take them all.

Luckily he didn't have to. He took one of the explosive coins and clicked on it before dropping it down into the carriage. He didn't even give the guards a chance to react before detonating it.

No more sounds came from inside the carraige. Remus dropped down from the roof and opened the door. The guards laid still on the ground. He checked their pulses. It was going slow and unsteady so they wouldn't be waking up soon (aka in several days probably).

There wasn't much in the carriage. A few box filled with guns and ammunition littered the wooden floor but aside from that all there was was a metal box in the corner. It was big enough to fit a human if they hunched down. It was thick enough that he doubted even one of the explosives would get it open. He tried the key to open it but it didn't work.

"What the fuck" He mumbled to himself.

On the sides and top of the box things were engraved. He was unsure if it'd been engraved a knife or...teeth.....somehow. The same sentences were written over and over.

Remus tried to read it but all the words swirled around and changed places. He hit his hands against his head and tried to concentrate. Usually Remy read things for him when on missions (and when home too honestly), and before he had them he had.....He had.....

He despised his dyslexia so much. Sensory overload could be avoided by Q ordering clothes with the exact textures he could handle and making him earpieces that filtered out just enough sound so he wouldn't panic. People didn't notice his lack of eye contact and fumbling with social cues and voice tones as long as he was looked normal. But there was no way to get around his dyslexia.

It took (in his opinion) an embarrassing amount of time before he was able to piece the words together. But when he finally did his body went cold.

Targets: 0̶0̶5̶ 0̶0̶1̶2̶ 009 008 - Remus Smythe

They knew his name. They knew his name.

Remus felt nauseous. His heart was beating so fast he could hear it. How the fuck did they even know that. What more did they know?? He was used to people knowing his name as Remus Smythe the son of Octavia Smythe. But not as Remus smythe the 008 agent.

He knew his mom could defend herself. All of the women, his caregivers, on the floating palace could. but still. At least they didn't know Remy's name. At least- At least- They were after them though! They specifically wanted to murder the love of his life.

Sure people had been trying to kill them before. Many a times. But he and Remy had known the two of them were strong enough to proctect themself. But....but....these people had killed Picani. Emile Picani! They could- they would-

He took a step back. Logically he should figure out a way to open the box. That was why he has here wasn't it? But he had to make sure Remy was okay. Had to-

He turned around and quickly went towards the door. He stopped midstep as he heard something metal-like crash under his foot. He looked down and realized he'd stepped on a dogtag one of the guards had been holding.

The metal plate was cold in Remus' hand as he tried to read it. His eyes widened. He didn't have to struggle to make the words out. He would always be able to recognize that name in an instant.

His hand shook as he forced the dogtag down into his pocket. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

He stumbled out from the carriage before throwing the door open to the next one. He was hyperventilating as he collapsed onto his knees. He looked up through tears at the blurry sight of Remy.

They'd been sitting on a box cleaning one of their blades while using the bodies of the guards they'd killed as a footstool. When they saw their husband they quickly went over and sat down in front of him. They moved their arms around his shoulders while checking for injuries.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"R-remy" He cried out. He hugged them as tight as he could and slumped his head against their chest. Uneven sobs racked his body.

"It's okay. It's okay babe. Shhh. Breathe for me" They moved their hand through his hair to soothe him "Just follow my breathing"

"You c-can't be hu-hurt"

"I'm not. I promise. You always take my injuries for me like an idiot. I'm 100% okay"

"It's- They- He-"

With a shaky hand he took out the dogtag from his pocket. It felt like the name engraved on it burned into his skin. Remy held onto his hand.

"What- who's tag is that?"

Remus glanced up at them with tear filled eyes "The f-former 009. Roman"

#live and let die #remus sanders #remy sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #ts remy #sanders sides #thomas sanders #intrusleep #remsleep #resleep #rem^2 #please reblog

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rvnclwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Romania 1999 Pt 5 (Charlie Weasley x Female MC)

Summary: AU where MC is an American who attended the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry instead of Hogwarts. Set eight years post graduation (1999) when she finally gets the nerve to travel abroad and follow her dream to be a Dragonologist in Romania. Check out my master list for parts 1 - 4.

Notes: I’m so sorry this took me a million years to post. Life got crazy, and proof reading this long of a fic took me years, but I hope you enjoy :) part 6 will be the last part in this series, so stay tuned!

Word Count: A lot. I’m talking ~11,500. Whoops.

(Y/N) brought her steaming mug of tea to her lips as Charlie sat down beside her on the couch. It had been a couple days since the pair returned from their time off, and the Sanctuary was busier than ever. They had to split up the past two mornings since Hank and Scott were the ones up to date on how the dragons were doing, and (Y/N) was grateful for the space. Between all the time they'd spent together and Charlie's Christmas present, she needed to distance herself from her feelings, which was a lot easier to do when the redhead wasn't around.

"Did Norberta do that?" (Y/N) asked when Charlie began applying a thin layer of burn-healing paste to his wrist.

"No, she did great. Aro on the other hand…" He flinched as the orange potion began to work its magic on the small patch of raw skin. "He wasn't as pleased to see me."

(Y/N) set her mug down on the wooden end table to her right and screwed the cap back onto the potion for him. That was the sixth burn she'd heard of in one week, and though it wasn't unheard of for the breed, it wasn't exactly normal either. "Does Hank have any idea what might be going on with him?"

"Not a clue. They did a physical evaluation yesterday and found nothing."

"Huh. Well, we can check on him again on Monday after Gertie and see if he's getting any better," (Y/N) suggested, placing the potion onto the coffee table in front of them.

Charlie smiled. "Sounds like a plan. How was Ventus?"

"He did great after about ten minutes or so. I'm pretty sure he was giving me the cold shoulder at first for being gone."

The redhead chuckled. "Guess I'm not the only one to notice when you're not around."

That caught (Y/N)'s attention. She tried to steady her heartbeat by forcing a laugh, ignoring Charlie's eyes on her. Was he saying he missed her? "I'm surprised you aren't sick of me after being stuck with me for a full week."

Charlie leaned back into the couch, propping his arm up on a pillow in his lap. "You're joking, right? That was one of the best holidays I've taken in years."

Not sure what to say, (Y/N) took a quick drink of her tea again to occupy herself, feeling her cheeks, and now her throat, burn.

"Did you mean what you said to my mum? About it being the best Christmas you've ever had?"

(Y/N) looked down at her lap, surprised Charlie remembered that. "Well yeah, but don't go getting a big head on me because that's not saying much." She bumped her shoulder against his, but Charlie frowned.

"You don't have to do that with me you know."

"Do what?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Use jokes to cover up your feelings."

(Y/N) swallowed, realizing it sounded like she was bitter over her family when in reality she just didn't want Charlie to know how much she enjoyed spending the past week with him and his family. "Uh, sorry. It's a bit of a habit."

"Don't get me wrong, I like how tough you are, but you can talk to me about anything."

(Y/N) stared at him, blood pounding in her ears. I like how tough you are. She tugged at her sweater sleeves awkwardly. "Okay, then I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous of your incredible family."

A smile grew Charlie's face. "I don't mind sharing. In case you didn't notice, my parents are pretty accustomed to taking in strays at this point."

Every nerve ending in (Y/N)'s body sparked, making it hard to think properly. Despite the fact that Charlie was talking about his siblings' significant others, (Y/N) reminded herself that Harry and Hermione had been Ron's friends at the start. Friends. Just like she and Charlie were.

She forced another smile, praying the dragon lover couldn't see the effect his words had on her. "Thanks. I'd like that."

"The only condition," Charlie added, narrowing his eyes at her, "is that you can't repeat any of the stories you hear to Hank or Scott."

The knot in (Y/N)'s stomach released and she burst out laughing. "Aw, come on. Can't I at least tell them you used to have a hippy ponytail like Bill does now?"

Charlie groaned, shaking his head adamantly. "Absolutely not. And I'm going to tell Bill you said that."

"I don't know why you're embarrassed by it. That picture of you was adorable." She glanced up at his orangey-red hair, which was still parted to the left like it had been in his Quidditch picture at Hogwarts but was now much shorter in the back. The thick layers up top fell past his ears and always seemed to droop in front of his face in the most adorable way. "You never did tell me why you lopped it all off."

Charlie ran a hand through the spiky strands up front, pushing them back like he always did even though they rarely stayed put. "I stopped wearing the ponytail once I left Hogwarts, but it actually wasn't until Bill's wedding that my mum had a go at it. I figured she had enough going on at the time, the least I could let her do was cut my hair."

"I take it you liked it short then?"

"No, she cut it really short. I used a spell on it a few days later but compromised by not letting it reach my shoulders."

The corners of (Y/N)'s mouth twitched as she pictured his trademark red hair as long as Bill's. "Well, if you ever grow it back out, I call dibs on braiding it. I love your hair."

The look in Charlie's eyes made her heartbeat stutter.

"You do?"

"Of course I do," (Y/N) said coolly, hoping her confession wasn't too intimate or weird. "Who wouldn't? It's the most distinguishable thing about you."

His gaze dropped back down to the orange paste on his arm. "In my experience, red hair and freckles have always been considered negative traits."

"Who the hell told you that?" (Y/N) asked, the sudden protectiveness making her body tense. "If anything, those are two of the most attractive things about you."

Charlie's eyes trailed over to meet hers, and the blood drained from (Y/N)’s face when she registered what she had said. It didn't have to be embarrassing, right? It's not like she admitted she frequently thought about touching his hair and kissing every last one of those freckles.

"Oh, come on," she added to be safe, smacking his shoulder with a pillow. "You don't get to be self conscious. The most sought after woman here was interested in you for crying out loud. That's gotta be an ego boost."

Charlie sighed, giving (Y/N) a look he usually reserved for Hank. "I take it you're referring to Sydney?"

"Of course. Who else would I be referring to?" (Y/N) considered the other women in their age range at the Sanctuary. Jessica was the only other one their coworkers obsessed over, but they would never admit it. She was Dave's younger sister and common sense told everyone she was off limits.

"Now look who's selling themselves short."

(Y/N) stared wide-eyed at the redhead before barking a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" The serious look in his eyes, however, said otherwise, and her amusement faded. "I can assure you literally no one here has hit on me. Sydney probably made it abundantly clear where I stand with them."

Charlie pursed his lips together, looking as though he had something to add to the conversation.

"What?"

"I don't think it's because of Sydney," he said hesitantly.

(Y/N) stiffened. She knew the teams gossiped, she had just always hoped it wasn't about her. "What do you mean?"

"The only reason they haven't chatted you up is because…" He trailed off, looking as though he was hoping she could somehow magically connect the remaining dots.

"Because…?" (Y/N) urged. She genuinely had no clue where he was going with this.

Charlie kept his eyes on her, but (Y/N) could tell he was embarrassed. "Well, based off of comments they've made in the past, I think they're assuming there's something going on between us."

"Oh." The word came out like a high pitched croak due to (Y/N)'s sudden dry throat. While she had always worried about Hank and Scott assuming she was pining over the redhead, she hadn't given a second thought about what the other teams likely presumed about their relationship.

"I've tried to tell them otherwise," Charlie added, "but they listen just about as well as Aro does."

The expression on his face made it seem as though Charlie had been teased about their friendship at one point or another, and (Y/N) tried to ignore the nervous pitter-patter of her heart at the thought. "Shit, I'm sorry. Did you want me to talk to them? I can tell them to piss off."

Charlie smiled a little. "No, I don't care what they think, I just- I thought you should know. You know, in case you wanted any of them to ask you out."

"What? No," (Y/N) said automatically, unable to stop the distaste from showing on her face at the idea of anyone at the Sanctuary asking her out. Anyone except… She swallowed, forcing herself back to the present moment. "If anything, I should say thanks. That's spared me a lot of trouble. But… doesn't it bother you?"

Charlie's brows drew together. "Why would it? You're the most amazing woman I've ever met."

Just like that, it suddenly felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Did he… did he really just say that?

An indistinguishable shift in tension settled over them as they stared at one another, and (Y/N) realized how easy it would be to make a move. She could practically feel the words pleading to leave her mouth- Charlie, is there something going on between us?

But Charlie continued speaking, extinguishing the opportunity and snapping her back to reality.

"Besides, they-"

Boots clomping on (Y/N)'s front porch followed by an abrupt knock on the screen door made both Dragonologists jolt in their seats and turn around towards (Y/N)'s front door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Hank said, pushing open the squeaky screen door, "but some woman's here to see ya, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) froze, and a heavy lead weight started to creep its way up her legs, settling itself neatly inside her stomach. "Did she say her name?"

"Nah. She said it's a surprise? Adorable little thing with blonde hair. Looks to be about your age."

"Oh my God!" (Y/N) squealed, jumping to her feet. "Charlie, hold that thought- I promise I'll be right back!"

She flew past Hank, not even bothering to grab a jacket despite the chilly temperatures. Dashing down the porch steps, she yelped again when she spotted the one and only Penny Haywood near the entrance gates.

"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) cried, colliding into her friend with the best bear hug she could manage.

Penny giggled, hugging (Y/N) back just as enthusiastically and refusing to let go even for a second. "My family decided to visit relatives in Britain over Christmas break, so I thought I'd surprise you for New Year's."

(Y/N) felt a tightness creep into her throat. She couldn't believe Penny was really here, she had missed her so much. "You scared the hell out of me, you know," (Y/N) whispered into the blonde's ear.

She could hear the dorky grin in Penny's voice. "Just making sure you're staying alert. You seemed to be getting quite cozy here in your letters."

"Alright, alright," came an unexpected masculine voice behind Penny, and (Y/N)'s mouth dropped open when she glanced up. "I gave you the first two minutes like I promised, but I want my hug now."

"Barnaby!" (Y/N) gasped, her heart swelling so much she could hardly breathe.

Penny conceded and released (Y/N) from her death grip long enough for (Y/N) to lunge at the Thunderbird. The six foot tall Magizoologist lifted her off the ground with ease, spinning her around in a full circle and squeezing her as tight as he could without crushing her. "You didn't think I'd miss out on this epic trip, did you?"

(Y/N) felt her eyes burn from the elation while Barnaby set her gently back on her feet. "I've missed you guys so much. How is everyone?"

"We'll catch you up on everything," Penny promised before a mischievous glint reflected in her blue eyes. "But first, you have to tell me who's waiting on your front porch for you."

(Y/N) turned to see Charlie leaning against the porch railing. He smiled at her, which only worsened (Y/N)'s over-stimulation and brought his earlier statement rushing back into her mind. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. Shit, what had he been about to say to her?

"Merlin's beard, is (Y/N) (L/N) blushing?" Penny gushed, playfully shoving (Y/N)'s shoulder.

Barnaby howled with laughter. "Awh, come on, don't tell me this place has made you a softie."

"Would you two shut up, we're just friends," (Y/N) hissed even though neither of them had been remotely loud enough for anyone to hear. "I'll only introduce you if you guys promise to behave."

"Fiine," Penny huffed, and Barnaby drew an "X" over his chest.

"Cross my heart."

(Y/N) bit her lip, secretly excited for Charlie to meet her friends. She hoped he liked them as much as she liked his family.

An unpleasant thought struck her, however, as she swiveled around and saw Dave and Russell gawking from the researcher's picnic table. For a ridiculous moment, (Y/N) didn't want to introduce Penny to Charlie until common sense caught up with her. In fact, as they approached the porch, (Y/N) noticed his eyes weren't even on the blonde at all, but rather on Barnaby.

"Charlie, this is Barnaby and Penny, two of my best friends from America."

"It's great to meet you," Charlie said, extending a hand to Barnaby, but (Y/N) noticed a change in his demeanor since they had been talking. Was he mad at her for running out on their conversation? She sure hoped not.

The redhead turned to do the same for Penny, but (Y/N) was mortified when the blonde flung herself forward instead, hugging Charlie without warning.

"Thank you for looking out for her," she said, unapologetically squeezing him once before releasing him. (Y/N) was going to kill her later.

Charlie chuckled, his posture rigid as usual from the unexpected physical contact. "This one hardly needs taking care of."

(Y/N) smiled at that. Charlie needed to start being more careful or her head was going to be the size of a hot air balloon by the end of the night.

"Isn't that the truth," Penny muttered, shooting (Y/N) a pointed look. "So what now? We don't want to butt in if you're busy."

(Y/N) shrugged. "No, we were just hanging out. We're always done a few hours before nightfall. What do you guys want to do?"

"Can we tour the place at all?" Barnaby asked, the childlike excitement evident in his voice.

Unsure of the rules, (Y/N) glanced to Charlie, who checked the watch on his wrist.

"As long as (Y/N)'s with you and you stay far enough away from each dragon, then sure. Just stick to the paths and be back by dusk."

Penny beamed, instantly dragging Barnaby towards the winding pathway past Charlie's house. "C'mon then, what are we waiting for?"

(Y/N) moved to follow them, but when Charlie stayed put, she turned back. "Aren't you coming?"

His eyebrows raised. "Oh no, it's cool. Go catch up with your friends."

She shot him a funny look. Did he really think she was going to ditch him because her old friends showed up? Without questioning the urge, (Y/N) grasped his hand the way Penny had Barnaby's and tugged his arm once. "Then you have to come too."

His gaze trailed down to where their hands were connected before settling back on (Y/N). Refusing to feel self conscious, she squeezed his hand and urged him forward again, earning herself another half smile as he conceded and followed her down the porch steps.

And the best part? Charlie squeezed her hand right back.

Penny and Barnaby stayed at the Sanctuary for the weekend, celebrating the new millennium with (Y/N)'s team and catching up on everything they had missed in each others' lives. (Y/N) tried her best not to babble too much about the Sanctuary but could hardly help it as story after story came rushing to her head. She got to hear all about Penny's teaching position and Barnaby's new pets back home. They told her how Rowan and Jae were doing, and at night (Y/N) was able to confide in Penny about her confusing feelings for the redhead. It was so amazing to have them there that it went by in a blur and, as (Y/N) anticipated, saying goodbye became one of the hardest tasks in the world.

But the one thing that made the inevitable easier to stomach was Charlie, who was waiting for her with two brooms in hand as soon Penny and Barnaby left on Sunday morning.

"Figured you could use a ride right now," he said, extending one of the Nimbus 2008s to her.

She beamed at him, refusing to acknowledge the lump in her throat while she mounted the broom. What would she do without him?

He lead the way to the Thestrals, surprising (Y/N) again with just how well he knew her. The comfort of the creatures combined with Charlie's company meant more to her than she could put into words.

"So how you doing?" he asked, keeping his eyes on her as they sat next to each other on a large rock near the pond. The concern in his voice brought (Y/N) back to that bench at the Burrow and Charlie admitting he was worried she'd want to go back to the States.

"I'm okay. I still have the dragons and you, don't I?" She nudged him playfully, wanting him to know she would be alright. Even in America, (Y/N) jumped around so much she became accustomed to not seeing her friends for months at a time. Her sadness from today would dissolve soon enough and the redhead was undoubtedly expediting that process.

He smiled at her, his freckled face pink in the afternoon sunlight. "Definitely."

"So my crazy friends didn't scare you away then?"

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "No, they were cool. I'm glad I got to meet them."

"Me too. Even if they are humiliating sometimes..." She shuddered, remembering Penny revealed that (Y/N) spent most of their third year in the library reading about dragons.

"Just consider the playing field a little bit more even now," Charlie said. "More incentive for you to not tell Hank or Scott any of my stories."

"Yeah, yeah." She studied the resting Thestral in front of her and replayed the weekend events in her head a few times. "I would say it went pretty well though."

"Aside from Logan hitting on both of them. He's ridiculous."

(Y/N) laughed. The thirty year old research team member was the most flirtatious wizard she had ever met. "Oh, I considered it a win that he was the only one. Those two always get hit on, especially Penny."

Charlie didn't say anything in response, so she added, "It's okay, you know. You can admit she's hot, it's no secret."

Their gazes met and the guileless look in his eyes told (Y/N) he wasn't hiding anything. "Yeah, I mean she's pretty I guess."

(Y/N) stared at him, stupefied by his disinterest. In the fifteen years she had known the Pukwudgie, nearly everyone was a little stunned by her beauty. "Okay, was your girlfriend at Hogwarts some sort of rare godless-like creature or am I missing something?"

Charlie looked back toward the Thestral and (Y/N) had the sudden fear she made the dragon lover uncomfortable. Just as she was about to apologize and tell him to forget it, he said, "She was nice."

(Y/N) held her breath, waiting- or at least hoping- for him to continue. That couldn't have been the only quality he liked about her. Sydney may have walked a tight line on that one, but Penny and Fleur were nice too.

"And we were friends." The redhead sighed, rubbing the stubble across his jawline. "I don't expect you to understand because no one seems to, but I'm only ever attracted to someone after I know them. After we're friends."

(Y/N) prayed he couldn't hear the nervous hammering of her heart. They were friends. Did that mean that she could actually have a chance with him?

She shook her mind of the thought, scolding herself for being so selfish. Scooting closer to the dragon lover, (Y/N) allowed her shoulder to press against his as she placed a hand on his forearm. "Hey, what's wrong with that?"

He glanced down at her, his brown eyes searching hers for something. "I don't know. People have given me grief about it since I was a teenager. They just don't get it."

She frowned, not sure if she was more upset for Charlie or angry with those people. "I would've never made that comment if I'd known. I'd never make fun of or judge you for anything like that. Those people are assholes."

A grateful smile tugged at the redhead's lips. "Thanks."

Their eyes met again, and for a ridiculous, utterly delusional moment, (Y/N) thought she felt another shift in tension between them. Did he just lean in closer?

She was clearly losing her wits because Charlie merely turned to face the Thestrals again, saying, "So what about you?"

(Y/N) blinked, attempting to calm her rampant pulse. "Huh?" No wonder they called it lovesick. The way this man fried her brain cells was sickening.

"You've heard all about my lack-luster love life, and yet I've heard nothing about yours. Surely you left some bloke heartbroken back across the pond?"

Less than pleasant memories resurfaced in (Y/N)'s mind, causing an angst-riddled scoff to escape her lips. "Hardly," she muttered, the flashbacks leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Charlie waited patiently, clearly expecting further explanation, and (Y/N)'s gut twisted as she was forced to confront one of the many aspects about her past that she would prefer to forget.

She couldn't blame her ex's. (Y/N) had more baggage than most their age- baggage that had to be kept under wraps and constantly required her to move from place to place. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt when people you cared for called you selfish and a liar. Or when they betrayed you.

"My first relationship was great," she began, wanting him to know not all of her experiences had been shitty. "He was insanely sweet and was in the same Ilvermorny house as me, so we had a lot in common. But after my brother died, I needed space and he understood." She tried not to fidget, grateful the cool air kept her hands from sweating. "We never could rekindle what we once had, so I moved on to a new state and new career."

"And after that?" Charlie asked. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was stalling.

(Y/N) sighed, drawing her knees against her chest. "Let's just say I learned early on that it's better not to get involved with people until you're ready to settle down."

Charlie seemed to consider this. "I take it someone didn't like it when you switched jobs again?"

She shook her head. "I asked him to come with me, but he didn't want to." She shuddered, still able to feel the slap of rejection after all this time. "I'd never had someone be so angry with me before and it's not really something I ever want to experience again." (Y/N)'s head began to ache because the memories were only an earth-shattering reminder of why she and Charlie would never work. Of why she should never trust anyone but her four Ilvermorny friends with her secrets ever again.

Charlie tensed beside her, his jaw muscles flexing. "I'd ask if he hurt you, but I have no doubt the damage you've done if he tried."

A welcomed grin took over (Y/N)'s face. She and Charlie had dueled each other loads of times, most of which ended with Charlie on the ground first. "You betcha."

"Sorry for bringing it up if you didn't want to talk about it."

"No, it's okay," (Y/N) assured, feeling that it was only fair considering what he told her. "It's probably healthier to talk about it."

"Have you dated anyone since?" Charlie asked.

She shook her head. "A couple flings here and there, but he stabbed me in the back pretty good. Haven't really been able to trust anyone enough."

"No one at all?"

(Y/N) held her breath and glanced up at the redhead. Was he asking if she trusted him?

As her heart rate increased, Charlie added hesitantly, "What about Barnaby?"

A mixture of disappointment and bewilderment bubbled in (Y/N)'s stomach. "What?" Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she cringed at the mere thought. "No. Merlin no." She continued laughing until she saw unexpected tension release from Charlie's shoulders and remembered his expression when he met the Thunderbird.

Wait, was he…

"I just thought you two seemed close," he said with a shrug.

(Y/N) studied him closely. "I trust that guy with my life, but not like that. He's like my brother."

Charlie remained quiet, and a realization struck (Y/N). While she may have had several intimate bonds with a handful of friends, Charlie really only seemed to have his brother, who was now married, and her. Jealousy could exist in platonic forms, not just romantic.

"Charles Weasley," (Y/N) began, an arrogant grin spreading across her face. "Are you jealous of my friendship with Barnaby?"

Color flooded the redhead's cheeks faster than (Y/N) could say gotcha, and he jerked his head back towards the Thestrals. "What? No, of course not."

"Merlin's beard, you so are!" (Y/N) couldn't stop herself from poking his side, and he swatted her hand away.

"Sod off," he said, standing up to avoid her teasing, and she hurried after him towards their brooms.

"Oh, come on. There's no need to fight over me. I can have more than one best guy friend, you know."

Charlie turned back around unexpectedly, making (Y/N) reel back to stop herself from colliding into his chest. He stared down at her, his mesmerizing eyes piercing right through her, but a roar in the distance caught their attention before he could speak.

(Y/N)'s face lit up at the familiar sound. "Wanna go check on Aro?"

Charlie paused, the teasing seemingly forgotten as his eyebrows raised. "You want to go check on him? ...On our day off?"

"Sure, why not?" She was surprised he was even questioning her. Charlie was always down to visit the dragons.

Amusement reflected in those brown eyes and he stared at her so long, (Y/N) wanted to look away, but she didn't.

"Sure," he said finally, a grin growing on his pale face. "Race you."

To say Aro was more irritable than usual was an understatement. The Hungarian Horntail would barely let them stand a hundred feet away, let alone the standard fifty. The pair had to use the surrounding trees and boulders to sneak closer, keeping their motions limited and voices low.

"When exactly did he burn you?" (Y/N) asked, crouching behind a thick, leafless oak tree.

Charlie thought for a moment. "Actually, it was after I fed him, which I found odd. He's usually one of the easiest to manipulate with food, but he almost seemed worse right after he ate."

She considered this. While a physical exam wouldn't diagnose gastrointestinal issues, there was no way the food would have made it to the digestive tract that quickly. "No vomiting?"

"Nope. Felix thinks they're going to have to take a blood sample tomorrow unless they find out what's wrong."

(Y/N)'s heart sank. Withdrawing dragon's blood was no easy task. Their thick skin was hard to penetrate even with the use of magic, and it was usually a painful, traumatic experience for the creature. "No. We'll figure out what's wrong with him."

One of Charlie's heart stopping smiles made an appearance, releasing a hoard of butterflies in (Y/N)'s chest.

"What's the plan then?"

She peered around the tree, glancing at the dragon perched on the solid ground. His posture was tense and tail rigid, indicating he was either alert or in constant pain. Since there were no alarming sounds or threats nearby, (Y/N) assumed it had to be the ladder, but what could be hurting him that wouldn't show up in a physical?

"Charlie, do you think you could get him to open his mouth?" she asked suddenly.

The redhead chuckled. "I don't think that will be a problem."

She smiled apologetically. "Preferably without it being followed by fire though."

"Alright, that might be a tad bit more difficult." He reached for a Snitch-sized rock on the ground before standing and moving behind the next tree in line. "Mind telling me what we're looking for first?"

"The mouth is the only external part not checked in a physical."

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. "You think he's being this mean over a toothache?"

"He could've cut his tongue or have an infection," she whispered, hurrying past Charlie to duck behind a nearby boulder. (Y/N) was no longer thankful for the surprisingly warm January day; snow would have been a welcomed distraction for what she was about to do. "I'm gonna get as close as I can to see while you try to distract him."

Charlie nodded hesitantly. "You sure you don't want to wait until tomorrow? I'd say the probability of getting burned is pretty high."

Despite knowing the odds were likely not in her favor, they could keep looking for answers if they were wrong today. If they were wrong tomorrow, Felix would probably move forward with the blood withdrawal. "I'm willing to get a little banged up for Aro's sake."

The redhead still didn't seem as convinced. "Why don't you let me get close to him while you distract him?"

"Because you don't know what different injuries to look out for. How many dragons here have had gum infections or tongue abrasions?"

Charlie pursed his lips together. "Fair point."

She smiled at him, hating the way her heart warmed at his obvious concern. "I'll be fine as long as you promise to apply the burn-healing paste for me."

The worry instantly left Charlie's face, replaced by an amused smile. "Deal."

(Y/N) ignored the butterflies in her stomach, along with the thought that maybe the burn that was likely to follow wouldn't be so bad. "Now throw the rock while I try to get a good view of his mouth."

Charlie obliged while she army crawled forward, staying low to the ground and wiggling her body as little as possible. When the rock hit the ground, Aro's head lifted in response, body seemingly frozen as those intense eyes darted around the clearing. (Y/N) froze, hoping she was far enough to the dragon's right that he would miss her. Thankfully, Charlie sent another rock past Aro this time, causing the dragon's head to jerk in the opposite direction. He growled at the pebble, displaying the right side of his mouth to (Y/N). No black teeth, purple gums, or bleeding there.

She glanced back at Charlie, motioning for him to toss the next rock up into the air. He did one better by withdrawing his wand and using the levitation spell on the rock. Aro's head followed the rock as it climbed through the air, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to center herself with the dragon. His growl was a low grumble, clearly more intrigued by the rock than threatened, but his mouth was just wide enough for her to spot the blood oozing from his top left canine. It was no wonder the team didn't notice it- most would assume the blood was from the raw meat he was being fed.

Realizing Aro was losing interest in the rock, she scrambled to her feet, retreating to the nearest tree. He howled in anger when she made a break for it, but the Hungarian Horntail surprised her. Instead of letting out an angry burst of flames like she was anticipating to dodge, Aro whipped his tail from out behind him, nailing (Y/N) right between the shoulder blades.

She stumbled forward from the blow, letting out a gasp as the spikes punctured her skin. She caught herself from face planting on the rock solid ground and instinctively tried to push herself up until agonizing pain unfurled inside her, forcing her arms to give out. She tried to crawl forward, just barely registering Charlie distracting Aro in the background. Thank God for that.

Once (Y/N) reached a large enough rock, she used her abs instead of her arms to pull herself up and leaned against the chilled stone for support as she made her way back to her feet.

"What hurts?" Charlie asked once he reached her, his voice gentle as always. He had always been the best at staying calm under pressure.

"Upper back," she gritted, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand. She couldn't stop herself from slumping against the redhead when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her away from the rock, carefully trying to avoid the injury.

"Madam Rosetta's is at least a ten minute walk from here. Can you make it?"

(Y/N) shook her head, but not for the reason Charlie was thinking of. Despite the stinging pain, she could force herself to make it just about anywhere, but thankfully she was cognizant enough to know better.

"Do you want me to carry you there?"

Burying her face into that forest green shirt he was wearing seemed like one of the most appealing options in the world, but she willed herself to shake her head again while her body and subconscious called her a traitor. "Just help me get the nearest emergency shed first."

Even though the pain was isolated to her back, each step felt worse than the last as (Y/N)'s adrenaline wore off. Once they reached one of the dozens of sheds scattered throughout the Sanctuary, (Y/N) rested a palm against the dark wood for support while Charlie held the door open for her.

Blinking through the black and white dots clouding her vision, (Y/N) eased her way into the cramped shed, stumbling toward the familiar oak table against the left wall and letting out a hiss of pain while she leaned back against it. "Son of a bitch."

As the shed door banged shut behind Charlie, she squeezed her eyes shut and eased herself up onto the wooden table, gripping the ledge on either side of her. She was probably going to bruise her palms from how tightly she was holding on, but she didn't care. She'd do anything to find relief from the searing pain emanating from the space between her shoulder blades.

Two creaks of the floorboards and a sudden nearby warmth told her her Charlie was now beside her, undoubtedly surveying the damage.

"We've got to get you to Madam Rosetta."

His voice seemed to be about the only thing that could bring (Y/N) any relief. Smooth as honey and concern for her threaded into each syllable. But there was no way she could do that. The Sanctuary had rules when it came to serious injuries. Rules that required documentation and professional review- more written proof of her being here.

(Y/N) shook her head once, releasing a slow, calming breath before she blinked her eyes open. She was wrong- her best friend’s freckled face brought her an ounce of relief too.

"I just your need help," she insisted as calmly as she could while brushing hair away from the nape of her neck. A light smear against her fingertips indicated just how deep the wound was and Charlie let out a hiss of breath.

"Bloody hell."

She attempted a pathetic smile while she wiped away the faint trace of blood smudged across her fingers with the sleeve of her sweater. "Quite a literal choice of words there, don't you think?"

Charlie didn't laugh. His intense brown eyes were laser focused on her back, and embarrassment settled over her when (Y/N) realized she needed to take her shirt off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, more alarmed than (Y/N) had ever heard him before as she fumbled behind herself to grip the back of the sweater.

With a wince and a frustrated sigh, (Y/N) lowered her hands back to her sides. "Can you help me lift the back of my shirt over my head?"

Considering this was the man who flinched at hugs and flushed at cheek kisses, (Y/N) waited for him to protest, but it never came. To her surprise, Charlie moved without being told twice, carefully sliding the hem of her gray sweater up and stretching out the collar to guide it seamlessly over her head.

(Y/N)’s shirt now rested in front of her, giving her a view of the slashed and blood soaked material. Despite how off putting the sight of her own blood was, she kept her arms in the sleeves, thankful the bunched up fabric managed to cover up most of her cleavage. Why couldn't she have worn a sports bra today?

“It’s over a centimeter deep,” Charlie said, averting his eyes from the wound. The raspy falter in his voice made (Y/N) wonder if it was the severity of the injury or the fact that she was practically shirtless that left him so unnerved. They were best friends right? This was no different than him seeing her in a bikini top.

(Y/N) slowly straightened her slumped shoulders, forcing away all visible signs of insecurity for Charlie’s sake. Anything to make him feel less uncomfortable. “Can you speak American for two seconds? My brain is a little too overwhelmed to handle the metric system right now.”

Charlie smiled for the first time since they had stepped foot inside the shed and held his thumb and index finger up to show her.

“Okay, about half an inch. Thank you.” She attempted to pull her hair free from the neckline of the sweater but stopped abruptly as the abrasion moved with her shoulder blade. She let out a second grunt of irritation and pain, hating nothing more than the temporary loss of her independence. Just as she was about to try again, her breath caught as Charlie’s fingertips brushed against her neck, freeing the trapped strands and brushing them over one shoulder.

“What do I do?” The look in his eyes was urgent, and (Y/N)’s heart squeezed in response. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell her she was an idiot for not going to the nurse. He just wanted to help her.

She smiled gratefully and pointed to the top shelf on the back wall. “Grab one of the purple bottles on the right.” Staring down at her sweater, her head pounded argumentatively while she racked her brain for the blood cleaning spell. It started with a T and was right on the tip of her tongue. “Ugh.” She roughly rubbed a hand over her face, wanting the throbbing sensation in her back to stop for just one second.

“What?” Charlie asked, instantly stepping back in front of her and setting the potion bottle onto the table beside her thigh.

She turned away from him as a frustrated flush reached her cheeks. Two of the traits she prided herself most on were her intelligence and independence, both of which were failing her right now. “I can’t remember the stupid spell to clear all this blood up. I was a Healer for an entire year and I can’t remember the damn spell.”

“Hey.” Charlie’s cold fingers rested beneath (Y/N)’s chin, gently forcing her to look at him. The touch was quick, but the striking contrast to her scorched skin made (Y/N)’s head spin. “Your body is beat up enough. We don’t need you taking swings at it too, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, still slightly dazed from the feeling of his hand against her skin. “Okay.”

Charlie grabbed a stack of towels from the shelf and set them beside the potion bottle. “This may hurt,” he warned, tugging on a fresh pair of work gloves, “but I’ll try to put as little pressure as possible.”

(Y/N) nodded, squeezing her eyes shut again as Charlie picked up one of the towels and began blotting away the excess blood from around the wound. She calmed herself by breathing in through her nose and exhaling through her mouth while counting to ten, the technique she used to encourage her former patients to use.

“What now?” Charlie asked, setting the blood stained towel off to the side.

(Y/N) twisted the cap off of the potion and poured a generous amount of the purple liquid onto a fresh towel before handing it to Charlie. Leaning forward so her back was more accessible, she said, “This will clean it and prevent infection. Just dab it until it starts to smoke.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie muttered when she sucked in a sharp breath as the wet towel touched her skin.

She knew the potion stung and had anticipated the pain, but it was even worse than the burn-healing paste. She bit her lip hard and was relieved when the antiseptic started to settle into the wound, alleviating some of the discomfort.

Charlie’s forehead creased with concern after he set aside second towel and gloves. “It’s smoking, but it’s still bleeding a little.”

“It’s okay. Do you remember the third healing spell I taught you?"

Nodding, Charlie withdrew his wand but hesitated. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather Madam Rosetta do it? We've only practiced that one a handful of times.”

“Now who’s beating themselves up? You also mended Gertie’s broken claw last month on your first try and bandaged Scott’s leg two weeks ago like a pro.”

“But none of those were this severe.” He glanced down at the infliction for a minute before their eyes met again, and his voice was barely audible when he spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at him. “You won’t, you’ll help me. We’re best friends, right? I trust you.”

Something sparked in Charlie’s eyes at those words, and after a minute, he nodded. “Vulnera Sanentur, right?” The melodic phrase fell from his lips with the perfect inflection on each syllable.

She grinned and leaned forward again. “Just like that, three times.”

He did exactly as he was taught, tracing his wand back and forth and performing the spell with so much elegance, (Y/N) was too distracted to notice the poking of his wand or the feeling of her broken skin knitting back together. When the words stopped, it felt as though someone had used a Time Turner, reverting back before Aro had ever scratched her.

“Merlin’s beard,” Charlie breathed, his voice full of wonder and pride while (Y/N) exhaled in relief. She knew what he was feeling- Vulnera Sanentur was one of those spells that had the ability to take your breath away when you saw it work. Without warning, he set his wand down and traced his fingers across her upper back, making (Y/N)'s head and heart go haywire. She sucked in a shaky breath and Charlie paused, looking alarmed. “Does it still hurt?”

Mortified, (Y/N) shook her head and hopped off the table. “Are you kidding? You did it perfectly!” She wanted to hug him but stopped herself once she registered her current sweater situation, which only led to a second wave of embarrassment. He probably wouldn’t appreciate (Y/N) pressing her blood covered shirt or her bra-clad chest against him. Studying the material, she realized she still couldn’t recall the blood cleaning charm and wondered what the hell was wrong with her.

Her attention returned to the redhead when she heard rustling, only to find Charlie now in a white undershirt, extending his long sleeve shirt toward her. For a moment, (Y/N) just stared at the green fabric in his hand while her heart continued to have a mind of its own. He was offering her his shirt. It took a moment for that realization to sink in, and (Y/N) wasn't sure which outcome was worse- having to put her mangled, bloody sweater back on or Charlie continuing to stand there in his nearly see-thru t-shirt that clung to his body like static. Neither were great options.

“You don’t have to,” she began, but he pushed the cotton material into her hand.

“Take it. I don’t want you to start freaking out about that spell again.”

(Y/N) smiled softly, deciding she was hardly about to put up a fight after what he had just done for her. As soon as she began to slip her arms free from her sweater, Charlie rotated around towards the table, turning (Y/N)'s insides to mush. He was so sweet she couldn't take it.

All the nerves in (Y/N)’s body jolted to attention when she pulled the fresh material over her head and a wave of Charlie's scent hit her. It took all of her self control to not bunch the material up against her nose and breath in that overwhelmingly pleasant honeysuckle and grass smell. "Thanks," she muttered, letting him know it was safe to look once the hem of the shirt fell past her hips. Charlie was only four or five inches taller than (Y/N), but the shirt was easily two sizes too big because of his broad chest and defined arms.

She tossed her sweater onto the table and was surprised to find Charlie staring at her. His eyes held an intensity (Y/N) had never seen before and she started to feel claustrophobic in the tiny shed. Why was he looking at her like that? She attempted to take a step back, but the heel of her boot clacked against the wood panel wall behind her. His gaze somehow managed to feel more invasive now than when she was standing beside him in her bra just moments ago.

(Y/N) was about to ask what he was staring at, but she didn't have a chance to speak. Without warning, Charlie closed the distance between them, his hand suddenly cupping her cheek, his body pushing her back against the wall, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her.

Butterflies erupted in (Y/N)'s stomach and her brain short circuited as Charlie's mouth met hers. Her palms landed on his chest while Charlie's free hand gripped her waist, and she was frozen in place. The only move her instincts allowed her to make was to close her eyes and kiss him back.

She may have imagined kissing the redhead more times than she'd ever admit, but this was nothing like those fantasies. She had always assumed he would be sweet and gentle, maybe even shy. Boy was she wrong.

(Y/N)'s heartbeat pounded like a Bludger trapped inside her chest as Charlie's body pressed against her own. His calloused fingers dug into her hip, keeping her firmly in place, and (Y/N) sucked in a breath as their tongues swirled against one another, sending a wave of pleasure over her. She involuntarily curled her fingers into his shirt to tug him closer, unable to believe how good this man's mouth felt on hers. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. She never wanted him to stop. She wanted to do this all the time.

But unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end. (Y/N) wasn't sure if it had been a few seconds, minutes or hours when Charlie finally jerked back. Both of them just stared at one another for a minute, wide eyed and breathless. Charlie's heavily freckled cheeks burned a shade of red (Y/N) had never seen on him before.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, and (Y/N) could tell by the panicked look growing in his brown eyes that he was about to freak out. He took a step back and closed his eyes, roughly rubbing one of his palms over his forehead.

(Y/N) just blinked at him, her chest still heaving up and down as she tried to circulate more oxygen to her brain. Anything to help the gears in her head start moving again. In that moment, she wanted to be bold. (Y/N) wanted to pull Charlie back against her and tell him to do it again. She wished more than ever that she hadn't accepted his shirt so there would have been something more substantial to clutch onto, forcing him to stay close for as long as she wanted. But instead, there she stood, dumbfounded, confused and unable to form a single damn sentence. Her chin still tingled where his stubble had scratched her, which somehow managed to be both the best and worst feeling all at the same time.

"Chaarlie," a muffled voice called from outside, breaking their staring contest.

Hank. Of bloody course.

The redhead looked tormented as his gaze alternated between (Y/N) and the shed door. His brain seemed to be just as rattled as her own.

"Go see what he wants," (Y/N) encouraged with a weak smile, reaching for her sweater on the table. "I'm good." She was referring to her back but hoped it passed for both the injury and the... the word kiss lit up in neon inside (Y/N)'s head. Holy shit. Charlie Weasley had seriously just kissed her.

He hesitated, frowning slightly. "You sure?"

(Y/N) wasn't sure what to make of his expression and still couldn't think properly, so she nodded. The last thing she needed was to have a mental breakdown in front of him while overthinking what the hell just happened. "Yeah, of course. Let's go see what he wants."

"There you are," Hank said, jogging down the path as soon as Charlie emerged from the shack. "Everything okay?" His greying eyebrows ratcheted up as (Y/N) leaned against the door frame, and her face flamed once she realized all the scenarios undoubtedly running through the forty-three year old's mind. She was wearing Charlie's shirt for heaven's sake.

"All good," she said, quickly folding her sweater over her arm so the deep red patch faced Hank.

His cocky smile vanished immediately. "Merlin's beard, you sure? What the hell happened?"

Charlie and (Y/N)'s gaze met briefly before they both looked away.

"We found out what's wrong with Aro," (Y/N) answered, hoping to lead the conversation to the safest territory she knew- dragons.

Hank sighed, shaking his head. "Seriously? You guys can't even take the weekend off?" When neither Charlie nor (Y/N) responded, Hank's forehead creased. "Is that all? You two look like you've seen a dementor."

The anxious look in Charlie's eyes made (Y/N)'s chest ache. Did he really think she was going to tell Hank right then and there that he had kissed her?

"Just shaken up," (Y/N) explained, feeling a lump bob in her throat. "I was expecting fire, not his tail. Charlie was great though and healed it for me. It hurt too much for me to make it down to Madam Rosetta." Her stomach twisted at the lie. Why did her life have to be this way?

Hank nudged Charlie in the shoulder with his knuckles as the trio turned back toward the village. "Good on ya, Weasley. Why don't we go grab a Butterbeer? To two look like you could use a good drink right about now while ya tell me about Aro. I'm sure Felix will be thrilled."

Food and drinks were the last thing on (Y/N)'s mind, but she went along with it. They told Hank about the Horntail's infected tooth, and (Y/N) managed to stomach half of a Butterbeer before the tension in the room was too much for her to handle.

"Where ya goin'?" Hank asked when she stood up from their picnic table.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up and fix my sweater," she said, taking a step back and jabbing her thumb towards her place. To (Y/N)'s surprise, Charlie looked more startled than relieved.

"Do you want any help?"

(Y/N)'s head started spinning again as she tried to decipher what that meant. Was that code for let's sneak off and kiss again? Or for wanting to tell her to never mention what happened ever again?

"Nope, I've got it," she reassured a bit too forcefully.

The concern in his eyes made it seem like that wasn't the answer he was hoping for, and that just made everything that much more confusing. She needed a moment alone to think. Her brain was about ready to explode.

"Just let us know if you need anything," Hank said, raising his glass to her.

Backing up towards her front porch, she forced one last smile and waved. "Yep. I'll catch up with you guys later."

She felt Charlie's eyes on her until the door closed behind her. Letting her back rest against the wood, she slid down to the floor and began racking her brain, finally letting panic sink in.

Why had he kissed her? Was it some sort of response to her being hurt? Was it something she had said? Most importantly, why did he look so regretful after he had done it?

Maybe he hadn't enjoyed it. Maybe he thought he might feel something and didn't, and now he didn't know what to say.

The kick to her gut was quickly remedied by the inappropriate reminder that at least one part of him had enjoyed the kiss. Goosebumps broke out across (Y/N)'s skin, and while she forced away thoughts of Charlie's body against hers, a lightbulb flicked on inside her head. The look in his eyes and the unanticipated hunger behind the kiss. He was only ever attracted to someone after they were friends, and she had been practically shirtless while they were crammed in a small space together. How could she be so oblivious? It was probably a purely hormonal response and now he was mortified. But (Y/N) couldn't blame him… eight years was a long time. She just wished that realization didn't make her heart feel so heavy.

Forcing herself to breathe, (Y/N) told herself she was being ridiculous. Whatever the reason, it wasn't a big deal. It was just a kiss. Sure, it may have been a mind-numbing explosion of one for her, but she could put it behind her. A relationship was the last thing she needed to worry about anyway. It was too dangerous. (Y/N) barely could afford to make friends, let alone date someone. She didn't want anyone to get hurt or into trouble because of her.

Charlie continued sitting across from Hank, barely able to take his eyes off (Y/N)'s door as the minutes ticked past. He was completely conflicted between staying glued to the picnic table all night and pounding on her door until she opened it.

"You two have been acting weird ever since you got back," Hank said, setting his Butterbeer down onto the table. "Everything okay?"

Charlie shook his head, drumming his fingers nervously on the table. "No, I'm an idiot."

"Oh, Lord. What'd ya do now?"

"I kissed her."

Hank straightened so abruptly he knocked his Butterbeer over, but the man hardly seemed to care. "You what?"

The redhead dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his temples and sighing. "I bloody kissed her."

"What the hell are you groaning about?" Hank boomed, slapping a hand against the table. "This is the best news I've heard all month!"

"No it's not. The walk back here was awkward as hell because we were interrupted before we had the chance to talk." Charlie shot his buddy a look, but Hank hardly looked apologetic.

"You could have told me to piss off."

"And say what? We're busy in here, come back later? I'm sure your reaction to that would have been real appropriate."

Hank rubbed his stubble to hide is grin, not even attempting to correct the redhead. "Well, did she kiss you back?"

Charlie averted his eyes, hating how easy it was to recall (Y/N)'s mouth on his- the way her hands gripped his t-shirt, the muffled gasp she had made into his mouth. He had never been kissed like that before, and he wanted to do it over and over again. He blew out a breath, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He had more self control as a bloody teenager. "That's not the point."

Hank grinned the biggest toothy smile that Charlie had ever seen from him. "That's one hundred and ten percent the point. I know she's into you- even if you are a total wanker."

"She didn't say anything after." Or try to do it again, his subconscious added unhelpfully. "For all I know, she could've felt cornered."

Hank barked a laugh. "You're kidding, right? That wild thing could'a kicked your ass if she wanted to."

Deep down Charlie knew that was true, but he also knew that (Y/N) had a soft spot and just might not have wanted to hurt his feelings. Her quick dismissal of him offering to help reverberated in his head. "What if I've screwed everything up?"

"Here's a crazy idea- if you're so damn worried about it, why don't you try talking to her instead of me?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes at Hank despite knowing the forty-three year old was right. With a sigh, Charlie forced himself off the bench, slowly making his way to (Y/N)'s porch and praying he didn't mess up their friendship.

A knock on (Y/N)'s door made her freeze at the kitchen sink. After scouring through her books for that stupid spell, she managed to fix her sweater and was now rinsing out her tea mug. Her heart thumped nervously and she cleared her throat. "Come in."

She fumbled with the mug as the door creaked open behind her and wondered what the odds of it being Hank or Scott were. Or Felix or Dave. Hell, she'd probably even take Sydney right now. Setting the cup in the sink, she turned around and her stomach plummeted. They apparently weren't good enough.

"Hey," Charlie said, shutting the door quietly. He could hardly look at her. His eyes flicked around the room, just barely jumping up to meet hers, and he hadn't moved past the first chair at the dining room table. He looked more uncomfortable than (Y/N) had ever seen and her heart cracked open in response. She didn't want him to feel that way.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked with a smile, picking up a dish towel to dry off her hands. She could ignore the elephant in the room.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, but her tone must have resonated with him on some level because his stiff posture eased and he stepped a fraction closer. "Uh, are we- I mean are you… okay?"

She could see the concern in his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat in response. Even though he was clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed, he was asking if she was okay. How could she not be head over heels for him?

"Yeah, of course," she answered, taking the time to fold the towel and set it neatly on the counter before turning back to face him. She hoped her casual tone said, Why wouldn't I be?

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the soft red strands away from his face, and a horrible thought entered (Y/N)'s brain before she could stop it: Why hadn't she done that?

The thought of touching Charlie's hair as they kissed left (Y/N)'s face flaming with embarrassment. Averting her eyes only made the situation worse, however, because she realized she was still wearing his shirt. She had changed into leggings in place of her jeans but didn't take off his damn shirt. He was going to think she was mental.

Charlie took another step forward, now leaving only two dining chairs left between them. "Look, about earlier…"

"You don't have to do this," she interrupted, glancing at him again. "It really isn't a big deal. We can pretend it never happened if that's what you want."

Charlie stared at her for a long moment, and (Y/N) watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "What if I don't want that?"

Chills scattered down (Y/N)'s entire body and she gripped the chair in front of her for support. She couldn't have heard him right. This was the off-limits dragon lover that had been single for years. She must've misheard him. "What?" Her voice was as unstable as her legs were.

"Look, I know I'm not good at this," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "In fact, I'm probably just about as rubbish as you can get. But I fancy you, (Y/N). A lot."

(Y/N)'s lips parted and the wild pulse in her throat was nearly all she could concentrate on. She tried to speak, but his words made her head dizzy and mouth dry. Ginny was right? He… he liked her too?

Charlie's face was beat red now as he took one final step forward. "And I was wondering if… if we could be more than just friends."

(Y/N) tried to calm her rampant heartbeat, and it wasn't until Charlie cleared his throat that she realized how long she had merely been staring at him, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Charlie looked down at the floorboards beneath his feet, his expression turning stony. "But I completely understand if you don't think of me in that way. Or if my… lack of dating experience is-"

(Y/N) surged forward before he had a chance to finish that ridiculous sentence, wrapping her hands behind his neck and crashing her mouth against his. Charlie stumbled a little to catch his balance, letting out a raspy breath before his arm slid around her waist and he kissed her back, sending (Y/N)'s heart into overdrive. He pulled her closer and she tangled her fingers into his hair like she wanted to earlier, feeling like her whole world was complete.

Their fevered kisses faded down to delicate and when they slowly pulled back for air, (Y/N) could feel Charlie's warm, ragged breath on her lips. "Is that a yes?"

Reality struck (Y/N) like an earthquake as her promise to Ginny echoed inside her head. Easing down from her tiptoes, she rubbed her face, feeling the overwhelming bliss diminishing inside her. "Shit. I- I don't know."

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked, his brown eyes searching hers. "Is it the team? I'll make sure Hank keeps his comments to himself if that's what you're worried about."

(Y/N) shook her head. "It's not that. I just- I don't think it would be fair to you." The words cut her to the core. Life had never been this cruel to her.

Charlie didn't look angry or annoyed- he looked concerned. "Why not?"

She turned away from his gorgeous face, ashamed, heartbroken, and angry. "Charlie… There are things you don't know about me. Things you can't know."

He seemed to consider this. "Does this have to do with why you've moved around so much?"

She nodded, biting down on her lower lip.

"Why can't you tell me?"

Despite her trust issues, a part of her knew that wasn't it. As much as (Y/N) tried to fight it, as much as her past experiences told her not to, she really did trust the redhead every bit as much as Penny, Barnaby, Rowan and Jae. "It's too dangerous."

The corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit. "More dangerous than being a Dragonologist?"

She nodded, trying to convince herself more so than the redhead. She knew him too well to think danger would scare him away.

He was now in front of her, the tips of their boots nearly touching. "What if I care about you more than my safety?"

Her nerve endings crackled like static, and it took every ounce of her self control not to touch him. "I- I refuse to put you or your family at risk. I just can't." Her lip trembled at the mere thought. She couldn't handle being responsible for anyone getting in trouble because of her. Charlie's dad worked for the Ministry for Merlin's sake. He could lose his job.

"Did you do something bad?" Charlie asked.

(Y/N)'s heart weighed down with heaviness as she considered how to answer. "People think I did," she finally whispered.

"But did you?"

She shook her head, blinking away the tears gathering in her eyes. She hoped to Merlin that he believed her. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't.

“Ah." He nodded slowly. "I think I’m starting to piece together the whole Sirius Black obsession.”

That made (Y/N) laugh- a pathetic, hollow laugh that caught in the back of her throat. “Pretty stupid, right? It’s not like that story has even a remotely happy ending.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress all the conflicting emotions she felt. “Don’t you get it? There’s no happy ending for me. There’s no case for my innocence, I’m just a fugitive to catch. They may come after me again, and if you know what happened, they’ll say you were involved in it. I can’t have that on my conscious.”

"There’s one thing you’re not accounting for," he said, leaning his face closer to hers.

(Y/N) glanced up at him, but her voice was still overruled by defeat. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

Charlie smiled, clearly accepting the challenge. “You probably picked the only career where we could care less what the Ministry thinks.”

“They’re our government, Charlie. You really expect me to believe wizards here don’t care about the Ministry of Magic?”

He looked genuinely surprised by her response, as if he expected her to know better. “Do you know why reserves like this even exist?”

She waited for him to answer, sensing the question was rhetorical, and the frown forming on Charlie’s face told (Y/N) the subject made him upset.

“It’s because wizards like Newt Scamander stuck up for the safety and preservation of all creatures, even the XXXXX category. In the Ministry’s eyes, dragon’s are probably the largest nuisance in the wizarding world. They’re massive, loud, and lethal. Bloody terrible to conceal from muggles and untamable. If they had it their way, most of these creatures would likely be killed and sold for parts.”

An unpleasant knot yanked on (Y/N)’s heartstrings at the thought of losing any of these dragons. “No… they wouldn’t do that. I mean sure, maybe decades ago when we didn’t know as much, but they have to feel differently now, right?”

“Some of them do, sure,” Charlie conceded. “But we still get hassled about our work when they visit. Some badger us about our numbers, demanding if we really need this many. Some suggest expediting mother nature when one falls ill or grows old. Like I said- to them, dragons are a headache. They make up a large portion of what makes their lives miserable when an accident happens and they have to repair the damage.” He leaned his forehead against hers and brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. "So would you stop worrying about protecting me? Because I don't really give a damn what the Ministry thinks and I'd really like to kiss you again."

And just like that, (Y/N)'s entire resolve crumpled, and she kissed Charlie Weasley like her life depended on it.

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