#fbtcog fic

[ezm-imagines]

Breaking the Ice - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: Newt x reader ice skating fic <3

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: normal angst and F L U F F

A/N: requested!!! and, per usual, i went way farther with the request than bargained for. i also included like every single cliche in the books so sue me i guess :)

also, back to back publishing, look at me go! ive been working a lot since I got on break so hopefully i can keep this schedule up for yall :)

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You shuffled your feet back and forth on the ice, using the slight momentum to slide forward an inch every few minutes.

“I don’t quite believe that’s how it’s done,” a soft voice chuckled from behind you.

You moved to turn around, and slipped on the ice, your feet falling out from under you.

You braced for a fall, but instead found yourself being caught and lifted back up.

You grabbed back onto the arms, helping push yourself up, until you looked up to find your friend Newt, smiling at you gently.

“Hi,” you smiled, freezing as you caught his eye.

“Hi,” he replied, blushing slightly at the attention.

You two didn’t know each other two well. Sure, you were in the same friend group, but somehow he was always at the other end. You were best friends with Thesius and Leta, and whenever the three of you would decide to go do something, Thesius would always invite his brother, and his brother would bring Tina and Queeney and Jacob. But for all these outtings and dinners and parties, Newt would always be busy with his side of the friend group, and you would be busy with yours. In fact, for the past half hour, you’d been stealing glances of him skating with Tina, wishing that could be you.

“Thank you,” you laughed as he steadied you on your feet, “I guess I’m not very good at this.”

“Nonsense, you just need practice,” he suggested. “You simply use each foot to push off the other. Like this.”

You watched as he effortlessly skated forward, before spinning around and facing you again.

“How are you so good at that,” you huffed.

He only smiled again, “Thesius loves ice skating. I’m afraid this isn’t the first time he’s brought me along for it. Now, come on, your turn.”

You only looked at him.

He chuckled and held out his hand, “Here, we’ll do it together.”

You looked back and forth between him and his outstretched hand, surprised, but quickly cleared your throat and took it so he wouldn’t notice.

You’d never mentioned it to anyone, only here and there telling people that you wished you were closer friends with him, but you might’ve... had... have... a small crush on the guy. Maybe.

“Okay, like this,” he moved to be beside you, and motioned how to kick off with his back foot to push forward.

You watched him do the motion a couple times, before you did it yourself.

“Brilliant! Now the other foot... yes! See, you’ve got it.”

You were a clumsy mess and you were sure you looked nothing like the grace he had just been skating with, but you were indeed moving forward, and that did mean something, you supposed.

You were just gaining enough traction to get around the rink once when Thesius skated up to you two.

You squealed as he did that ice-spray-ey thing with his hockey skates as he came to a stop.

“Care for a race, Newt?” He beamed at his brother, as Leta skated up next to him, “Five laps around the place, like old times?”

“Not particularly,” he shrugged off.

“Oh, why, ‘cuz you think you’re gonna lose?” He grinned.

“But, I’m helping Y/N...”

“Newt, you literally spent half the morning telling me about how you wanted to do an axel when you reached the finish line of our race. Come on.”

“Yeah, but...” he looked to you.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” you smiled, “Go have fun with Thesius, I’ll be fine. I can skate with Leta ‘til you get back.” Leta smiled at you.

“You heard the lady,” Thesius said, spinning behind Newt and taking him by the shoulders and pushing him forward, “Let’s go.”

You waved and smiled as he left, trying to encourage him to go have fun. While you loved him helping you and holding your hand, you knew he wasn’t having fun going negative 15 miles per hour. It was the least you could do to give him time with his brother.

“You two seemed pretty cozy,” Leta told you, linking arms with you and pulling you along.

“Who, me and Newt?”

“No, you and the ice, what do you think I mean?” She teased.

“He was just helping me skate,” you explained, not giving much attention to what she way saying as you watched the two brothers begin the race.

Newt wasn’t ever one for competition, and you could tell he wasn’t as much racing his brother as just skating as fast as he could, but you were enamoured nonetheless. He gracefully lapped the rink over and over, gliding faster than his brother with every circle. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“‘Just helping you skate,’ huh?” She laughed, picking the conversation back up.

But you could barely hear her. The boys were ending their last lap, and you smiled as Newt crossed their agreed-upon finish line first. Before you knew it, you watched as he jumped into the air and spun around before landing on one foot. You gasped.

Leta rolled her eyes beside you, “God, both of you are so gone.”

You didn’t have time to ask her what she meant by that before the boys, breathless and laughing, skating up to you two.

“Good job, Newt,” Leta greeted, “Thes needs someone to kick his ass every now and again.”

“As if that isn’t already your job, Leta,” Thesius chuckled, taking her hand and beginning to skate away. Leta laughed and gladly followed, and you watched as she skated away with all the grace that you wish you had.

“You did... amazing,” you told Newt.

He looked away, bashfully, his ears turning even redder than they already were in the cold. “I don’t even know how you skate, let alone do something like that.”

“I told you,” he replied, his eyes sliding to eventually meet yours, “Practice.”

~~~

“Hot chocolate at ours!” Thesius announced to the group as you all walked out into the snowy parking lot.

“Shit, but we walked here,” Tina frowned, “We didn’t bring our cars.”

“Ah, alright, we’ll all squeeze into my car, then. It should be big enough.”

“Shot gun!” Leta declared, racing toward the van with Thesius in tow.

“Tina and I get carsick, so we call the seats in the second row!” Queenie shouted after them. “Oh, wait, Jacob too!”

“Guess that leaves us in the back,” you said to Newt, looking at him from the corners of your eyes.

“I suppose it does.”

As you reached the car, the group was abuzz with chatter, filling up all the seats.

“Oh, shit, wait, where are we gonna put our duffle?”

Newt, Thesius, and Leta all owned their own skates, and with all the seats being taken up, they couldn’t just put it wherever like they usually did.

“There’s still a third seat in the back; only Newt and Y/N are back there,” Jacob said.

“Ah, perfect,” Leta handed the duffle back to Jacob who set it on the left seat.

Your heart clenched at the fact that the duffle taking up the left spot meant that you and Newt would have to sit in the already-too-small back seats, pressed up against each other.

Oh, for the love of God...

You’d finally acknowledged that you might have a teensy crush on the guy, and the whole universe conspires to force you two together at every opportunity.

Newt slid wordlessly into the middle back seat and you followed suit, attempting to press yourself as much against the wall as possible. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by touching him, but you weren’t having much of a choice. His legs were so long and there was so little space, so the two of you were touching almost everywhere possible.

You kept your gaze outside the window, not sure where else to look, as conversation in the car roared from one subject to another. You and Newt stayed silent for the most part. Though that wasn’t so abnormal from him.

“Oh, fuck, wait,” Thesius cursed, before the car made a massive U-turn. You fell over to your left as the car lurched, landing you directly into Newt’s lap.

End me now.

“Agh, I’m so sorry,” you apologized, wildly attempting to pull yourself out of his lap, touching Certain Areas on accident in your panic.

Both of you looked away, blushing madly and praying for the car ride to just be over already. Jesus Christ, everything was going all over the place and you just wanted to return to him holding your hand as you slowly and poorly slid across the ice.

“-ing, obviously, don’t you agree, Y/N?” someone was saying.

The conversation halted as people looked to you for your response.

“I’m sorry, what?” You sputtered, looking around to attempt to get some kind of idea what they were talking of.

Leta elaborated, “We were talking about how Thes practically grew up on the ice. Newt, too. Isn’t it insane what they can do? I mean, I had my fair share of skate rink birthday parties as a kid, but I never would’ve done as much as them. Their talents know no bounds.”

“Yeah, it was pretty impressive,” you agreed, quietly, avoiding looking at Newt completely.

You wanted the car to just open up and swallow you whole.

“‘Pretty impressive?’ Bitch, you totally gasped when he landed his axel, don’t even with me. You were watching him like a hawk during that race...”

Stellar. You gave a fake laugh and looked out the window, trying to do the math for how far you were from the Scamamder house according to the streets you were passing.

Luckily, Leta carried on with conversation, changing the subject to many various things that didn’t involve you or your horridly embarrassing feelings.

Unluckily, according to the stoplight you just passed, you still had a few more streets to go.

“Were you really watching me during the race?” Newt asked you quietly, once the car was wholly focused on a different subject.

“Well, you were winning, so yeah.”

“Oh.”

You could almost hear his heart sink. “But, really,” you continued, looking him in the eyes, “your axel was incredibly impressive. I didn’t know you were that amazing.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, tilting his head down like he always did.

“Niffles!” Queenie shouted. You looked up to see the car pulling into the driveway, the Scamander dog Niffles awaiting the van’s arrival by the door.

Everyone poured out of the car and headed inside the shabby little house, alighting it with life and loudness.

Thesius immediately set out to go get a fire started in the fireplace while Leta began pulling out mugs. You joined Leta as the rest of the group moved to the fireplace room.

“Long drive, huh?” Leta asked, turning on the stove.

“Just as long as every other time we’ve driven here,” you lied.

“Mhmm...” she raised her eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You two were practically on top of each other back there.”

“Not by choice!”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I most certainly did not,” You huffed. It was true; it had been hell back there.

Leta just shook her head and continued making the hot chocolate silently, “Why don’t you go check on the group? I got this covered.”

You shrugged and followed directions, slipping into the living room.

“Ah, Y/N, we were just thinking: you down for a movie tonight?” Thesius asked, looking up at you from where he was crouched at the fireplace. Newt took the poker from his hand and began adjusting the fire logs as his brother talked, and you ignored how annoyed it made you that he was refusing to look at you. But, then, why should he? You two were barely even friends; you’d hardly talked before today. “You’re still staying the night here anyway, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, shaking yourself from your thoughts about Newt.

“So, I guess it doesn’t quite matter to you if we watch a movie.”

“We were thinking holiday rom-com!” Queenie beamed, as you moved to sit on the couch beside Tina.

“Correction, you were thinking that,” Thesius interrupted. “I was thinking—”

“If you say Die Hard...” Newt warned quietly.

You smiled at his small joke.

“Then what do you suggest, Newt? The rom-com? You trying to be Romeo tonight?”

Newt gave Thesius a look you didn’t understand, not that you even understood what Thesius was talking about.

Hmm.

“I think a rom-com sounds great,” Leta announced, walking in with the tray of mugs. You quickly stole one for yourself and for Tina sitting beside you.

“Traitor,” Thesius narrowed his eyes at his fiancée.

“Let me finish,” she hushed, handing him and Newt mugs, “I suggest we watch a bad rom-com that we can all make fun of the whole time. Does that save your fragile manhood, babe?”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes playfully, as he passed the tray back to Jacob and Queenie, sharing the armchair.

“I think that’s his way of saying we have a deal,” Leta grinned, taking the last mug for herself and setting the tray on the table at the back of the room. She took the remote and plopped on the couch, pulling up Netflix and beginning the search for the worst movie she could find.

Thesius dusted off his hands before joining her on the couch, too.

You bit your lip, realizing there was only one seat left in the room, and it was on the couch next to you.

For fuck’s sake, you couldn’t catch a break with this group, huh?

Newt eventually decided the fireplace was satisfactorily kept, and stood up to find a seat— only to realize the exact same thing.

You ignored the way it stung when he hesitated.

“Newt, sit the hell down, it’s starting!” Leta yelled at him, the Netflix “bum-bum” pounding to signify the movie’s beginning.

He gulped and sat down next to you, not knowing what else to do.

You all watched on, playing a pretend drinking game with your hot chocolates where you drank every time the movie held a cliché (and you’d all finished your drinks after only ten minutes in, prompting Leta to make another round).

Between the warmth of the fire, the slowness of the movie, and your fatigue from skating all day, you could feel your eyes drooping by only halfway through the movie. But you were insistent on staying awake.

This was fun, and you enjoyed having the whole group bond instead of splitting in half.

But during your third cup of hot chocolate, you felt yourself slipping...

But you could s...

you...

~~~

You nuzzled deeper into your pillow, barely registering the unfamiliar fabric or the soft mahogany scent it now carried.

You wondered how long until your alarm would go off, and began attempting to calculate when you had fallen asleep last night. You couldn’t quite remember going to bed, only the movi—

You awoke with a start at the realization. You rubbed at your eyes as you sat up, wondering how much of the movie you’d missed from falling asleep. Hopefully you could still catch whatever dramatic ending was going to—

Oh, fuck.

You opened your eyes to find no one else in the room. Well, no one except...

“Mornin’,” Newt’s soft voice greeted.

Looking over at him, you realized that he had been the pillow you had just been using. Oh, oh god. Oh no...

“Shit, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he shook his head with a small smile, “It’s quite alright.”

You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that, instead changing the subject, “Where are all your friends?”

“Thesius started driving them back a bit ago.”

“And you didn’t go with them?”

“I don’t believe you gave me much of a choice to.”

“You could’ve just pushed me off, ya know, I wouldn’t have blamed you for it...”

He shrugged with one shoulder, “Maybe I didn’t really want to go.”

You furrowed a brow, “What?”

He shrugged again, “I dunno... it was kinda... nice... watching the movie with you against me...”

You looked up at him from under your eyelashes, “Really?”

He kept your gaze for a long moment before looking away with a cough, “Well, yeah, I mean, I don’t know, it was... you were... and they... well, I—”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. He melted against you instantly, as if he’d been waiting for this a long time.

Hell, you had, too.

You brought one hand up to cup his jaw, your fingers delicately tracing his skin.

He tentatively slid his arms to wrap around you and hold you closer.

After a long time, you pulled away and buried your face in his shoulder, attempting to suppress your blinding smile.

“How long have you been... wanting to do that?” He asked, and you could hear the happiness and surprise in his voice.

“A long time,” you replied into his shirt.

He huffed slightly, still amazed at what had just happened, “Ditto.”

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A/n: Please please PLEASE like/comment/share! And let me know if you want to be added to either my ~~brand new~~ permanent fic tag, or if you’d like me to tag you for Newt fics specifically!!! <3

Tag list: @your-gay-fangirl  @kaitlynpcallmebeepme  @coal000

[the-amazing-spider-bi]

the college au nobody asked for I leta lestrange/newt scamander I 4k I ao3

The roommate AU in which otters hold paws while they sleep, Leta didn’t think she would ever fall in love with someone who can’t even handle his coffee without milk, Credence collects crushes on all of his male teachers like they’re Pokemons, and Dumbledore finds endless amusement in his students’ antics.

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

“Hi,” Leta says. “I heard your group was still missing a member for the Sociology of Fashion project, so I was wondering if I could join you?”

The gaggle of girls in front of her startles, but when Leta smiles, they smile back. She tries to be as friendly as she can - which is difficult since she is more used to projecting a bitch resting face than acting innocent - until they end up exchanging numbers and agreeing to meet at the library on Monday to write their outline.

They go their separate ways when the other girls, who are obviously a group of friends, go see a movie, and Leta pretexts a previous engagement so they don’t have to invite her out of pity. They still wave goodbye, and Leta smiles one last time before she turns around. She tightens her grey and green scarf around her neck and walks away in a flurry of fallen leaves. She is going to get coffee, by herself, and then barricade herself in the coffee shop until she finishes her Power and Privilege essay - for a seminar, it sure involved an enormous amount of work.

Leta isn’t the type of girl people like. According to her classmates, she is posh and weird and standoffish, all of which are true. She doesn’t talk or smile or try enough to please people. She knows she could, really - she just doesn’t care to. It is alright with her, though. She would rather be alone most of the time than go back to the endless string of dinners and playdates her parents used to make her attend back when she was a girl.

So she is surprised when her phone lights up with a notification, thinking these girls are really fast to text.

Newt Dorkmander: did you know otters hold paws when they sleep?

Newt Dorkmander: actually it is to avoid drifting off of course but still

Newt Dorkmander: the thought is lovely

She tries not to smile at her phone as she types, you do know just because it’s a text doesn’t mean this won’t be deduced from your daily animal facts quota, don’t you? - she has to take off her gloves to type, and then when she comes into the shop the sting from the cold metal handle surprises her.

Newt Dorkmander: i do my best to lighten a cold november day and this is how you thank me

Newt Dorkmander: i cannot believe it

“Well someone is uncharacteristically perky today.”

She pockets her phone and does her best impression of her grandmother’s dignified stare. In front of her, Credence the coffeehouse guy is grinning in his green apron, already preparing her cup. Credence the coffeehouse guy is exactly Leta’s type of man, by which she means he is quiet, doesn’t bother her any more than he has to, and brings her coffee.

“I’m not perky,” Leta states. “Take it back.”

“Nah, it’s too late, your reputation is ruined forever,” Nagini, who is almost always to be found wherever Credence is, says from that seat in front of the counter she claimed as hers at the beginning of the year.

Leta rolls her eyes at them. “You freshmen are growing more annoying every year.”

“You’re barely one year older than us,” Nagini points out.

“College years are like dog years,” Leta informs them. “As such, I am fifteen years wiser than you.”

Credence the coffeehouse guy smiles and says, “Americano?”

“Americano,” Leta confirms, and if she refrains from making a terrible The Fault in our Starsjoke, then she will carry this secret to the grave. But still. A genuine John Green reference. She spends way too much time with Newt.

Of course, this isn’t like it’s a recent development - they have known each other since they were thirteen and Newt quite literally stumbled in her life with freckled cheeks and messy hair, then through their teens when he tiptoed around awkwardly with a lanky, ridiculously tall figure and she rushed through everything with the dedicated anger of a rebellious posh girl.

Then Newt had been expelled, and everything in her life went bonkers, but this is the part she tries not to think about.

Credence hands her her coffee and doesn’t make any more comments about who she was texting or how happy she looked, because he doesn’t make it a habit to comment on people - or talk to them - and he really is one of her favorite persons on campus.  

She spends the rest of the afternoon hunched over getting five thousands more words done, and when she leaves, Credence the coffeehouse guy has been replaced by Rita the coffeehouse girl, who she likes a lot less. She takes care to avoid eye contact and pulls out her phone, scrolling through social media feed without really reading anything until a headline catches her eye. She reopens her conversation with Newt, whose last message was an apocalyptic string of texts about being out of tea.

Leta Lestrange: you know netflix just uploaded the new planet earth season

“I know,” he says.

She looks up, startled. “What are you doing here?”

Newt is standing up in his usual blue overcoat and a faded yellow Hufflepuff scarf she gave him for Christmas when they were sixteen. (They had a price limit that time, so she had to knit him the scarf and ended up buying one anyway after a few unsuccessful hours. It’s not like he noticed anyway.) He is so outrageously tall she has to tilt her head to see his face, just so that he can avoid her gaze.

He shrugs and smiles at the ground. “I was on my way from the library, and it’s nicer to go home together.”

She frowns. “And how did you know I was there? Mister Scamander, are you stalking me? Should I check for hidden cameras? Do you keep pictures of me under your pillows?”

“Don’t be silly,” Newt says placidly. “I sleep in the next room. I can just come over to watch you sleep the normal way.”

She laughs. “Always good to know you have a lot of opinions on the best way to stalk me.”

“Well, one can never be too prepared, can they? I could always end up as a handsome brooding vampire if my zoologist plan doesn’t work out. I think I have the smoulder.”

“You certainly dress like you’re from 1910,” she says.

“You’re just jealous you can’t pull off the trench coat detective aesthetic as well as I do.”

She opens her mouth to tell him he has never pulled off anything, ever, in his life, but feels a shiver crawling up the back of her spine and changes her mind. “Just a second,” she says as she whips around to glare at Rita the coffeehouse girl who watching them raptly from behind the class. She scrambles to pretend she is not.

“Being noisy is an understandable flaw, but there is nothing worse than being noisy and bad at it,” she says conversationally.

“If you’ve sufficiently scarred her, can we go now?” Newt asks. “I’m freezing.”

“Bossy,” she complains under her breath.

They walk home together.

Around them, the atmosphere is wet and chilly, and not quite snowy either, which is the worst type of weather, according to her. It feels like the cold slips into her clothes in between the threads to stick to her skin in a damp layer that feels like sweat, only much worse. She doesn’t think twice about leaning close to Newt to protect herself from it, and he doesn’t think twice about wrapping his scarf around her shoulders, still talking about the cool things he learned in Introduction to Zoology module. For the entirety of the trip home she drifts in and out of focus, sometimes picking a specific topic he brought up and asking for more details or an explanation, sometimes daydreaming when he explains some technical part of Neurology he doesn’t quite understand yet himself. By the time they get to their flat, he has moved on to complaining about his Introduction to Physiology, Pharmacology and Neuroscience course, by which he is clearly bored to tears and that he still wants to attend anyway. She doesn’t press him about it but she is pretty sure his scholarship involves perfect attendance.

They walk up three sets of stairs - the place is right outside campus in this tiny brick building, rent as cheap as any flat with three rooms can be, which means no elevators, to Leta’s great despair. Without having to ask she gets in front of him to open the door herself, because Newt always loses his keys inside the holes in his ancient coat pockets, so it is just faster this way.

Immediately as she opens the door a dash of brown fur bounces into the hallway, climbs the sleeve of Newt’s coat, settles his shoulder where its nibbles at his ears.

“Hello you,” she hears Newt coo at Pickett. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly as she goes to take off her coat inside. There is a hot shower she has been dreaming of ever since she woke up this morning waiting for her, and then undercooked pasta in front of an animal documentary.

Whoever said college students weren’t living the dream?

When she wakes up the next morning, Newt is hunched over on their couch, copper hair messed up beyond repair, eyes half closed. She takes in the sight of his plaid pajamas and the squirrel burrowed in his hair, because he keeps spoiling Pickett then being surprised when he doesn’t want to join his siblings in the great wild outdoors, the moron. He looks utterly miserable.

He started up the coffee maker, though, so she can work with this.

“We’re buying tea this afternoon,” she says, before adding, more gently: “Hey, do you want me to do that hot chocolatey coffee you like to survive your morning classes?”

“Yes, please,” Newt says in a tiny voice.

She presses her hand against his shoulder as she goes behind the counter to make him a mocha and make herself an entire Thermos of black coffee. He gets dressed while she pours them their drinks, by which she means puts on the first wool sweater he found and jeans. She does the same while he sips his cup and checks on all his rescued animals of the moment - Niffler the magpie with the broken wing who keeps escaping his hen coop to steal their shiny cutlery or her silver earrings, Pickett who resolutely doesn’t want to leave, and an enormous Maine coon Newt insists on calling Zouwu despite how ridiculous it sounds. When she leaves in a hurry of perfume and long trench coat with her Thermos in hand, Newt looks considerably perkier.

A few hours later, she is considering the pros and cons of the infamous Veggie Salad versus Caesarean Salad case. Since Newt’s class finishes in one hour when her afternoon ones begin, and, well, she doesn’t really have any other friend nor a lunch break long enough to go home, she is planning to get some food from the cafeteria before she goes to her classroom and eats in front of her book. It sounds sad, but it’s actually a very good book, Jane Austen’s Emma, which she had somehow never read before, her high school curriculum consisting only of Pride and Prejudice again and again and again. She is usually more of a gothic, Byronic hero kind of gal, with a bit of sci-fi thrown in when Newt recommends one of his nerdy books to her, but well, it’s Jane Austen.

She looks forward to that lunch alone watching Emma and Mr. Knightly fall in love. The universe doesn’t care about that.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nagini says behind her.

She turns around slowly. The younger girl isn’t quite smiling, as she rarely ever does, but she looks as friendly as she can be with eyes surrounded by eyeliner and black lipstick, black clothes, black boots, black eye, black everything.

“Freshmen have lunch breaks now? Back in my time-” Leta starts teasing.

“You ate on the floor some gruel right out of the bowl before your Latin class started?” Nagini guesses.

Leta chuckles. “Close enough.”

“Wanna sit with us, or will it ruin your street cred?” Nagini asks, eyes shining with curiosity, or maybe just hunger.

Leta shrugs and pays for her salad at the counter. “If you promise never to use the words street cred ever again, sure.”

At Nagini’s left, Credence smiles shyly. She has never seen him out of his coffee shop uniform, and he is definitely not what she imagined, with a tiny silver cross hanging from a chain on his neck, a rainbow lapel pin on his jean jacket and an undercut.  They move from the cafeteria’s blinding artificial lights to the tables outside - they are already in winter and it is cold out, but Leta is used to avoiding loud, busy rooms, what with Newt’s condition, so it doesn’t bother her all that much. As for the two kids, tables are almost empty by this time of the year, so it doesn’t take a genius to get what their appeal can represent.

Nagini kicks up her feet on the table and leans sideways on Credence’s side while Leta has a wooden bench all to herself.

“So, about your ruined reputation,” Nagini starts. “What was up with you yesterday?”

“Did you see Professor Grindelwald falling down in the street?” Credence asks and takes a tiny bite of his apple.

“I wish,” Leta says, because if there is one thing that unites Nagini and her it is their mutual hatred for Grindelwald. He still teaches one of her classes today and she had him twice last year, once in her Introduction to Political Science class and another time in an Advanced Rhetorics option she picked up and gave up on soon afterward. The university is divided into two camps, really. There are those who think Grindelwald is like a white-haired, mole-rat-looking reincarnation of Jesus Christ or Martin Luther King or whoever teens idolize these days. Then there are people with common sense who see him for what he is, like Leta.

“The other day he took Credence’s phone in class and when he gave it back he changed his lock screen to a picture of him,” Nagini recalls. “Not even a funny picture, just this close up on his face, staring at the camera, Big Brother style. Credence still hasn’t changed it either.”

“What do you want?” Credence says with a self-aware smile. “I have terrible taste in men and daddy issues.”

“Gross,” Nagini whines.

“That’s not the problem,” Leta says. “The problem is out of all the silver fox material in this college - we have Dumbledore and Graves teaching - you went ahead and got a crush on him.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t also have a crush on Dumbledore and Graves,” Credence says.

They laugh about it. Before an awkward pause can settle, Leta says, picking at her plate with suspicion, “Anyway, no, my roommate just sent me something funny.”

“What was it?”

Leta knows about retelling past jokes and that only waste, you just really had to be there, you know? and fake laughs this way come, so she says, allusively, “Just a fun fact about otters. He’s really into animals. He’s a bit of a dork about it, eats vegan, picks up every stray cat that crosses his path, the whole deal. Zoology students and all that.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Nagini says. “This school has one of the best programmes in the country, don’t they?”

“Yes, that’s why we chose to come here,” Leta shrugs off, scrunching her nose at her salad, poking it around. It even smells weird. “This is way more disgusting than I remember it to be, isn’t it?”

There’s a silence. When she looks up, the two freaky twins are both raising their eyebrows the exact same way. It’s uncanny.

“That’s nice,” Credence drawls out.

“That my salad tastes like rotten grass?” Leta asks, raising an eyebrow as she grins at him.

“No, though it always tastes like cold garbage, so you only have yourself to blame,” Credence says. “You chose your college depending on your friend?”

Leta is uncomfortable. “He was - is my best friend. We met in boarding school when we were kids, with all the rich posh kids running around. It was hell, so, that makes friendship very intense.” They still look at her weirdly, and she is good with words, but even she doesn’t know how to convey the harshness of boarding schools when you are a bit different, a bit weird , so she adds: “Anyway, he was expelled in the middle of high school, and it was even worse without him here, so we decided we would stick together through college at least.”

She doesn’t talk about being the only black girl in her year, or Newt being diagnosed at thirteen, or how cruel children can be. Sometimes when she thought about it too long she felt so angry, almost as angry as she used to be in these years where she would talk back to the other kids when they mocked her and end up in detentions more weekends than not. She is quieter now, almost free of all of that teenage angst, better, but sometimes she feels like she is only pretending to be tamed, to be something she is not, like Pickett the domesticated squirrel.

“That’s actually very cool,” Credence says. “I can’t imagine living with my old middle school friends. Well, I didn’t have friends in middle school, probably because they were scared by my raw coolness, but even if I did, I guess I just changed a lot since then.”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about that,” Leta surprises herself by saying.

In the end, they move on from the subject to discuss Credence’s thing for every forty-something male teacher he meets, the revelations about a Moscow Trump tower, and salad that tastes like cardboard. When she gets to class, though, she keeps thinking over and over about growing up. She has always prided herself on being more perceptive than others - not even considering that Newt might be a different person as an adult than as a freckled thirteen-year-old is blindsiding her in a way she doesn’t care for.

She tries to forget about it and focuses on getting her degree.

But the thought planted by Credence sticks in the back of her mind, feeling so very foreign to her. It is relentless and invading and points its ugly, alien head at the most inappropriate moments throughout the week, and she can’t help but wonder.

She is the one who picks her roommate up at the end of his classes on Fridays, waiting with a coffee in hand for her and a chai for him. It is part of their routine. She watches the first wave of bouncing, impatient Bio students leave the building, then a second one, even bigger and noisier somehow, until Newt emerges from the lot and walks towards her. For the first time since they were fifteen, she appraises him. He looks like, well, Newt. So ridiculously tall he has to hunch over a little to pass doorsteps, shy smile, hands in his pockets. Then her gaze stays on him just a second too long, and he has the same wiry, messy-haired, freckled figure than when he was a kid, but maybe it looks less lanky now, somewhat. He doesn’t stare at the ground quite as much when he is out, his eyes darting from one point to the other in wonder, and suddenly she wishes she could know about the patterns he sees when he stares at the world like that.  

She still smiles in the same way she always does when she offers him his cup and his fingers brush against her gloved hand.

“Thank you so much,” he says, smiling. “Not to be dramatic, but I think if I have to listen to one more Neurology class, I might gouge out my own brain.”

“Lovely,” she comments. “You talk to Professor Dumbledore with that mouth?”

“Indeed, Mister Scamander,” an older man butts in with an amused expression and sparkling eyes behind half-moon glasses. “If you feel that strongly about my classes, I am always pleased to hear my students’ feedback during office hours.”

He trips over his own feet and stammers his excuses as Albus Dumbledore laughs at him in polite silences, and Leta tries not to be too amused by his misfortunes. If warmth oozes in her stomach, it must be either laughter or the hot coffee she is gulping down. It burns her tongue and her throat and keeps her hands busy not fixing Newt’s half-bent collar.

Newt is still talking with his hands to Dumbledore about his Zoology project when they leave campus. She has never had him in class, and never will, but even if she had never met him before, she would like him for the encouraging way he smiles as Newt talks to him about slugs’ brains or whatever he is explaining right now. Despite teaching one of Newt’s least liked courses - too many human examples, not enough slugs - he is still by far his favourite professor. It is enough for her.

Dumbledore goes home on a scooter, of all things, a Vespa, and Newt doesn’t get how funny it is when she tries to explain.

“I’m sure it’s very practical,” he tells her as they climb up the stairs.

“This is clearly not my point,” Leta says. “You’re just willfully blind because you have a crush on him.”

“What? I-I do not. He’s my teacher .”

Leta raises her eyebrows. Oh, really now. “And?”

“This is- wrong, and ridiculous, is what it is, and I will not talk to you about it any further.”

She stays silent as she opens the door. He gets even more flustered. His entire face is blushing all over, his skin like a sunset from his neck to the tip of his ears, and he fidgets with his sleeves, and it is sort of adorable, really.

“I don’t have a crush on Dumbledore!” he says, too loudly.

Then they go in and Niffler has gotten loose somehow and all of their spoons are in his cage, so he has reasons to get busy, but as soon as they’re sitting on their old couch again with a cup of hot cocoa, she raises her eyebrows again and he almost throws his cup at her. She breaks out laughing.

When she opens her eyes again, he is looking pointedly at his computer screen. This is when it happens. She can only witness in horror Newt’s profile rearrange itself in her head, move away from chubby cheeks and bitten lips, and this is when, as if she has never seen him before, she realizes he is handsome.

In some abstract way, she knew this before. She had noticed defined cheekbones, jawline, eyes with ever-changing colors, pushed him towards a girl or a boy or anyone and told him to just try his luck. It was only theoretical, though. It is like - she knows gravity exists, knows Earth rotates around the sun drawn by its sheer weight, but she also doesn’t know it, doesn’t understand it or feel the push of the sun’s attraction. This is like being in the reach of a supernova.

“Why are you still looking at me,” Newt complains, frowning at his screen.

Shit.

“No reason,” she says, not averting her eyes.

“Alright, so maybe I have a tiny crush on him. Just a smidge. It’s just- I- he’s so nice,” Newt says, turning around to look at her with wide, earnest eyes that look green today. “And a role model. Sort of.”

This is not the crush she is worried about.

[rachaelswrites]

Unexpected Visitors

Newt Scamander x Daughter!reader

When two strangers show up at you and your father's home, the night turns very eventful

Word Count: 1,319

A/N: This takes place in that one scene in Crimes of Grindewald and reader is about 15/16

You had been downstairs finishing up some of your chores with your father’s creatures when you heard the crash from upstairs. You knew he was home so you decided to let Newt deal with the problem upstairs. You figured it was just one of the Nifflers causing problems. You went back to finish feeding the Diricawls when Bunty stopped by.

“Your father asked for me to send you up to him when you’re finished here,” she said.

“Okay thanks,” you said, looking up from your work and smiling at her. 

She nodded at you and waved goodbye, you returning the favor. You quickly finished up and then headed upstairs into the house. 

You heard voices and some giggle that didn’t belong to your father. As you reached the living room, you saw your dad talking to two other people.

“Father?” you asked, hoping he could answer some questions about the strangers in your house.

Newt turned around after hearing your voice to look at you, “Oh Y/n,” he said, pulling you to stand next to him. He faced back to the others in the room, “Uh Y/n this is Queenie and Jacob. I met them in New York.

You looked at them and gave them a small wave.

“Oh this is the famous Y/n yo told us about,” the woman, Queenie said, “It’s very nice to finally meet you,” she smiled brightly at you.

“You too,” you mumbled. Like Newt, you were an awkward person, especially around people. You smiled at her again and then looked at Jacob, who did not seem to be acting very normal, “Is he alright?” you asked.

“Oh yes he’s fine,” Queenie responded, helping Jacob stand up straighter. She then turned to your father, “Shall we have dinner?”

~~~~~

You and your father were now sitting across from Jacob and Queenie. You could hardly eat because you were so focused on what Jacob was doing. He could barely eat and Queenie had to do almost everything for him. You could tell your father was trying hard not to notice either but it wasn’t working.

“Tina and I aren’t talking to each other,” Queenie explained.

“Why?” your father asked her, watching her tuck a napkin into Jacob’s shirt and sit in her own seat.

“She found out about Jacob and I,” she said, “And you know the laws. Not allowed to date or marry No-Majis.”

“I always thought that was ridiculous,” you said. It was the first thing you had contributed to the conversation tonight.

“Y/n ,” your father said softly. While he agreed with you, he didn’t need you chastising the person who was giving him the details he wanted on Tina.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, going back to eating your dinner.

“And anyways,” she continued, “She was all in a tizzy because of you.”

“Me?” your father asked, shocked.

“Yes you!” she exclaimed, “It was in Spellbound Newt.”

He looked over at you, confused and hoping you would have an answer for him but you were just as confused as him. You looked over at Queenie and gave her a confused look.

“I brought it for you to see,” she said, using her wand to pull the magazine out of nowhere and flip to a page with your father, your uncle Theseus, and Leta.

“Newt Scamander and fiance Leta Lestrange and brother Theseus with an unknown woman.”

“No that’s wrong,” Newt said quickly, “Theseus is marrying Leta.”

You had to suppress your giggles at the scene unfolding in front of you.

Queenie smiled at the realization that her sister’s crush wasn’t engaged, “Oh.”

It took her another second to realize that it wasn’t necessarily a good thing, “Oh dear.”

“What?” your father asked again.

“Well see, Tina read that and so she started dating someone else,” Queenie said quietly, “He’s an auror. His name is Achilles Tolliver.”

“I’ve heard of Tolliver,” you said, “He was mentioned in one of my classes at Hogwarts.”

Jacob started laughing and wheezing, causing you all to look over at him, “Tolliver?” he asked, in between laughs. He was wheezing so hard, you thought he might stop breathing.

“Are you sure he’s alright?” you asked, repeating your question from earlier.

“Of course he is sweetie,” Queenie said to you, wrapping her arm around Jacob who was already starting to calm down, “Anyways, we’re real excited to be here. It’s a special trip for us.”

She began to pour herself and Jacob a glass of wine, “You see, Jacob and I are getting married!” she exclaimed while giggling.

You looked over to your father, who seemed as surprised as ever by the news. You watched him look over to Jacob as he began to raise his glass.

“I’m marrying Jacob!” he said loudly, throwing the liquid on himself, making you gasp lightly and jump in your seat. Queenie then pulled out her wand, shooting confetti from the end.

Newt looked over to Queenie as she pulled the napkin from Jacob’s shirt and began to dry him off, “What? I have not,” she said.

“Will you stop reading my mind?” your father asked out loud.

You looked at the woman sitting next to you, “You’re a legilimens?” you asked. She nodded while continuing to read your father’s mind.

“That is an outrageous accusation,” she said, wiping off Jacob’s face more, “Look at him. He’s just happy.”

“So then you wouldn’t mind if I,” Your father started, standing up from the table and pulling out his wand, Queenie matching his actions.

“Please don’t,” she said, moving her arm in front of Jacob, who grabbed on to it.

“You’ve got nothing to fear if he wants to marry you,” Newt explained gently, “We can just lift the enchantment and he can tell us himself,” he continued, raising his want up to the other man.

Queenie slowly pulled her arm away from Jacob and he continued to look at her. She backed away from him, causing the man to look at you and your father’s directions. You hadn’t moved from your seat at the table but your father was ready to remove the enchantment Queenie put on him.

“Whatcha doing with that?” Jacob asked, chuckling, “Whatcha doing with that Mr. Scamander.”

Newt flicked his wand, “Surgito,” he said.

Jacob shook as the love enchantment was removed and he was back to normal. He took a deep breath before looking around the room.

“Congratulations on your engagement Jacob,” your father said.

“Wait what?” Jacob asked, clearly not knowing he was engaged. He looked at your father confused before he noticed he was looking up at Queenie, “Oh no,” he said.

You looked to the woman who was already packing up her stuff and heading for the door, too upset to stay and listen to Jacob begging her to. She grabbed her jacket and left the house, letting the door slam shut.

Jacob went after her but stopped and turned to your father, “It was nice seeing you,” he said to Newt. He glanced over at you, not realizing you were there before now, “And it was nice to meet you kid.”

You gave him an awkward smile.

“Also, where am I?” he asked.

“London,” you answered.

“Oh!” Jacob exclaimed, “I always wanted to go here!” he yelled as he left the house, following Queenie.

Once the door was shut, you looked over to your father, “So those are the friends you met in New York?”

He looked over to you, “Yes although, they weren’t that out of sorts when I met them.”

“Interesting,” you replied. You stood up from the table and pushed your chair in, “This has been a very eventful evening so I should be going to bed.”

Before Newt could respond, you were already running upstairs and to your room. He heard your door open and close shut. He sighed and plopped back down in his chair, shaking his head.

Taglist

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[uthseikoashx-inflamedme]

Hi! Im a hardcore grindeldore fan. I was hoping if you could suggest some fics where grindelwald escapes nurmengard and joins durmstrang to attend the triwizard tournament to meet Albus...please...

hi!

unfortunately, i don't remember any fic like that, i am afraid... it has been a while since i have read a lot of GGAD fics, to be honest

i suppose you already are familiar with the AO3 tags system and already searched there

perhaps en livejournal, fanfiction.net, even wattpad? or with specific tags?

anybody having ideas/recs?

sorry i couldn't help you... i hope others will! have a lovely day :)

[frunbuns]

Of Hot Tempers and Cold Rivers

Read on Ao3

“What do you mean someone has been following you?”

Newt looks up from his food at an expasarated Theseus. Theseus sits down opposite him and pours him some water. Outside, the snow falls softly to the ground, melting into the puddles in the already icy street.

“Who would it even be? Grindelwald’s not in the UK according to our sources at the Ministry, and last time I checked you didn’t have any other enemies.”

Newt raises a brow. “Enemies?”

Theseus stares at him unamused. “Last time I checked ‘Do you think Dumbledore will mourn you’ is pretty damning evidence of an enemy, Newt.”

"Surely Grindelwald can't care about me enough to want to–"

Theseus sighs. "You've gotten in his way twice now,” he points out.

“It’s probably nothing,” Newt says.

Theseus points his fork at the younger Scamander. “It’s not nothing,” he says. “If you’re being followed then we need to look into it. You could be in danger! We’ll get the Ministry—”

“I can protect myself,” Newt says, brows furrowing into an expression of annoyance. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Theseus can’t help but scowl lightly at his younger brother, dinner forgotten by both of them. “I don’t doubt that Newt, but this could be Grindelwald! You of all people should know how dangerous he is!

“I don’t need you coddling me, I’m not— I’m not some precious thing you need to protect. I’m not going to break if you’re not there.”

“I’m not coddling you. I’m just looking out for my little brother, like any good older brother would do!”

“If you are such a good older brother then you’d trust me to take care of myself like any grown man.”

Theseus’ fork collides with the table with a loud clunk. “But you’re not any grown man, Newt! You’re different. You’re—”

“What? Weird? Odd?”

“Well— yes!”

Newt stares at him, with cold eyes and a clenched jaw. For a while the only sound in the flat is Theseus’ breathing and the pitter patter outside.The traffic passing by. Then Newt looks down, chair creaking as he pushes it back.

“Thank you for dinner,” he says coldly. “I think I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Theseus watches quietly as Newt takes his coat and disappears. He hears the door open, the cars driving outside becoming louder and clearer before the door is slammed shut, a shout dying on his lips.

Theseus sighs, placing his head in his hands.

“Brilliant, Scamander. Another successful family dinner.”

-

Newt pulls his coat tighter around himself as a particularly nasty breeze blows by. Keeping his head down, Newt walks the dark streets. He’s not sure exactly where he’s going, he had passed his street a while ago now. Even as the cold nipped at his cheeks and fingers, and the slush on the ground splashes at his feet, he has no desire to go home.

But he probably should go home. It’s getting rather late and he has to feed his creatures in the morning. He sighs, anger dissipating from his body. His shoulders slump. He’s tired. The warmth of his fireplace sounds especially inviting at the moment.

He turns right, towards the bridge. He just needs to find a secluded alleyway where he can disapparate home. As he walks over the bridge his foot slips on the ice and he stumbles for a second, but he’s able to catch himself before he falls. He looks around, pleased to see that no one was around to witness it.

He stops in the middle, gazing out over the river, and the sparkling London lights further down. It reminds him of New York, in a less grand and spectacular way. While New York had been bustling with lights and activity at every corner demanding your attention, London comes forward as a much calmer city. Quiet corners every now and again - and while not a city that ever quite falls asleep, it is certainly quieter. More magical, with hidden corners everywhere.

Tina would like London, Newt thinks. At least he likes to think she would. Then he could invite her to visit and show her around. She’d enjoy Diagon Alley, he’s sure. A place where you don’t have to hide. Maybe he could—

Newt’s neck prickles, his posture stiffening. Carefully, almost nonchalant, Newt looks over his shoulder. There’s no one there, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. He takes a deep breath, losing the tension in his shoulders and starts walking again.

He stops abruptly after only two steps, whipping around fast enough to give him whiplash, and deflects a spell headed straight for him.

Newt doesn't recognise the wizard standing before him, but he certainly recognises Newt. Newt does his best deflecting the spells being thrown at him. There’s almost no room for him to defend himself, and even then the wizard deflects his spells with ease. Whoever this man is, he is a better dueler than Newt.

Newt’s wand clatters to the ground a few metres away from him. He gasps, stumbling backwards. Frantically he looks between the mystery man and his wand and the realisation hits him; this man might kill him. Newt could die tonight.

Maybe Theseus had been right. Maybe—

“Newt!”

Newt looks to the source of the voice, eyes landing on Theseus. The older Scamander is running towards him, wand in his hand. Relief washes over him.

And then Newt stumbles over the edge and then the feeling of free-falling.

-

Theseus watches in horror as Newt falls over the edge.

“Newt!” he yells, running onto the bridge. A quick, wordless spell sends the wizard flying, landing in a heap on the cobbled street. Unmoving and unconscious.

There’s the telltale sound of a splash and then quiet. He peers over the edge, down towards the dark waters of the Thames river. Heart thundering behind his ribcage, he waits for Newt to resurface. To come back up and tell him everything’s okay. That he’s fine.

But it doesn’t come. For each second that passes Theseus’ breath catches in his throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. It’s so cold. The water must be freezing. Newt must be so coldI.

Newt doesn’t come back up. No matter how much Theseus wills him to.

He can’t take it anymore. He turns, picks up Newt’s wand, and apparates down to the banks of the river.

“Newt!” he tries, but to no avail.

With a quiet sigh and shaking hands, he throws off his coat and jumps into the water. The river is icy and Theseus has to take a second to get over the shock of the temperature change. He pulls himself together and starts swimming through the water with vigor. Navigating between rocks and sand and fighting with the current. The water is dark and murky. It is from pure desperation alone - as well as a lit wand between his teeth - that Theseus manages to find him at all.

He doesn’t see anything at first. Until he spots a dark figure slowly singink to the bottom. His fingers brush against the wool of Newt’s coat. With a few desperate reaches he manages to hook his fingers around the fabric and drags the unconscious man towards him.

Holding his brother against his chest with his right arm, he swims up. When he breaks the surface he gasps hungrily for air, his lungs feeling like they’re on fire. The cold air bites at his lungs for each breath, but Theseus can’t quite find it in himself to care.

Doing his best to keep Newt’s head above the water he swims towards the bank of the river. With great difficulty, and some minor magical help, he manages to drag Newt out of the water and onto land.

The air is chilly, but Theseus can’t find it in himself to care. His thoughts are only with Newt, who lies sprawled, motionless on the frozen ground.

“Newt,” Theseus says with chattering teeth, absolutely sopping wet. Frozen fingers tap against Newt’s cheek, but he earns no reaction. “Newt,” Theseus tries again, this time more desperation creeping into his voice. He brushes away the hair plastered to his forehead from the water and tries again.

Despite Theseus’ attempts, Newt does not as much as stir. With terror gnawing at his insides, Theseus leans down and places his ear by Newt’s mouth and listens for breathing. He already knows the answer before he gets that far though. Newt should have woken already. The river is freezing. Newt was in the water for a while.

“You bastard,” he mutters, voice cracking slightly as he readies himself. Placing his hands on Newt’s chest he takes a shuddering breath. “You bloody bastard.” Then he pushes down.

Theseus has no idea how long he keeps doing the compressions. It feels like years. It feels like seconds. It’s as if he’s on autopilot. Breath hitching with each compression - the air setting fire to his lungs for each breath - and then breathing air into Newt’s lungs until his head starts swimming. At one point he’s pretty sure he can hear Newt’s ribs crack under the pressure of his weight. He certainly felt it at least, cringing on the inside. That will certainly need Skelegro.

No one seems to notice them. Theseus can’t tell if he’s pleased or not. The help would be helpful, but the risk of running into a muggle is too great, and Theseus is not sure how he would handle the situation then. How he would explain.

But Theseus isn’t sure Newt dying is something he’s willing to sacrifice for the secrecy of the wizarding world.

Theseus’ fingers are long gone numb by the time Newt finally stirrs. He sputters and coughs, body jerking awake in a motion that startles the older Scamander. He helps Newt onto his side as he coughs up the river water. He rubs Newt’s back comfortingly as he trembles under his hands.

Theseus feels like he could cry. The joy he feels - despite the freezing temperature and the fact that their hair has frozen stiff from the cold - is almost overwhelming.

Newt shudders in his hold and Theseus hugs him tightly. With one hand cradling the back of Newt’s head and his face tucked into the crook of his neck, Theseus allows himself to breathe.

“Bloody hell, Newt,” he whispers, voice breaking. “You scared me. Don’t do that again, ever. You hear me?” Newt doesn’t answer, but his ragged breathing is answer enough for Theseus.

Theseus isn’t sure if he’s crying or not, but he feels like he is. Especially with the pathetic sounds he lets out as he holds Newt against him. It’s like the shock of it all is finally setting in.

Newt could have died. Theseus’ little brother could have died tonight, and he wouldn’t have known if he didn’t come after him. How long would he have been in the water before anyone found him? Would the muggles have found him first? Who would tell him about it?

He’s not sure he can handle losing someone else right now. Especially not Newt.

If Newt notices Theseus holding him just a little bit tighter he doesn’t say anything about it.

A particularly cold breeze blows past them and Newt shivers in his arms as Theseus suppresses a tremor. With great effort from his frozen limbs Theseus gently rubs Newt’s back, hoping it will provide at least a little warmth.

“Are you alright?” he asks after a while.

Newt nods weakly against his collarbone and croaks a quiet, “Yeah.”

“That’s...that’s good.”

Theseus picks up his wand from the ground next to him. Then, making sure they’ve not left anything else laying around, he apparates them back to his flat.

-

They stumble into the flat, Newt’s legs weak as he leans most of his weight on Theseus. They both seem to sigh in relief when they get inside. It’s still warm, the fire crackling pleasantly in the sitting room.

Even inside, with his clothes dried, Newt continues to shiver. Theseus carefully lies him down on the guest room bed before he disappears into another room to get a blanket. Newt lies there in silence, except for his wheezing breaths. His ribs ache something terrible. He’s exhausted. He’s cold. Even just taking a deep breath is hard.

Theseus comes back in with a stack of blankets and a vial of Skelegro. He props Newt up with some pillows before he spreads the blankets over him.

“Better?” he asks, to which Newt nods tiredly. Theseus smiles faintly, mouth quirking upwards. He fumbles with the vial before passing it over to Newt. “You should take some.” Newt grimaces, all too familiar with the potion. Still, he takes it gingerly and tips the liquid into his mouth.

It tastes as horrible as he remembers. It burns on the way down. The taste stays in his mouth long after.

Theseus tucks the blankets tighter around him and walks to the door. “You should get some sleep,” he says. “You need it.”

Then he leaves and closes the door behind him. Newt falls asleep soon after.

-

When Newt wakes again Theseus is back in the room. He groans quietly and Theseus is at his side in an instant.

“Newt!” he exclaims. “How do you feel?”

“The’sus..?”

Theseus smiles. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Newt gazes up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Does it still hurt?”

Newt shakes his head. Theseus smiles again.

“I made some food. You should eat,” he says before helping Newt sit up against the headboard. He carefully hands him a bowl of soup and a spoon. “Eat up.”

Newt eats the soup slowly, finding that he is indeed hungry and that he very much appreciates the food. Even if he still feels weak and achy all over and his hand shakes just slightly when he lifts the spoon to his mouth.

“Thank you...for this. You really don’t have to do this.”

Theseus cocks his head at him, a soft look on his face that Newt can’t quite read. “Of course I do. You’re my little brother. It’s my job to look after you.”

Newt gazes down at his lap. He fiddles with his fingers, acutely aware of Theseus watching him. He’s sat here, in Theseus’s home. In Theseus’ guest bedroom. In Theseus’ bed. Eating his food and taking up his time. After arguing with him and storming out on their dinner.

“I’m— I’m sorry for how I behaved last night. I—”

Theseus interrupts him. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says. The bed dips as Theseus sits down by his legs. “You really scared me.”

Newt glances up at Theseus before returning his gaze down to his lap again. Shame and embarrassment burns in his belly. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he croaks. “I just wanted to go home.”

Theseus smiles. “I know. I’m sorry too. For the things I said to you last night. Truth is that you are different - and maybe a little odd - but it was never a bad thing. I’m sorry That I’ve made you feel that way. That mother and father and the world has made you feel like that. I’m sorry that they’ve never been able to see just how brilliant you are. I am proud to have you as my little brother, and of course you are capable of looking after yourself, but sometimes you worry me because I’m your big brother and that’s what big brothers do.”

You’ve been scaring me a lot lately, actually. You always have, but lately especially. With Grindelwald on the loose, and your creatures, and just everything, you know.”

When Theseus looks at Newt he is watching him intently. His head cocked, brows raised. There’s a look of fondness on his face, something Theseus has only ever really seen directed at his creatures. It makes something in his chest swell with warmth.

Theseus clears his throat and gets up. “Well I suppose you must still be tired,” he says. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

Before Theseus can manage to close the door behind him Newt clears his throat. He stops, hand on the door handle, looking at him almost expectantly.

“Thank you,” he says. “Just— thank you.”

Theseus smiles warmly at him, eyes flicking to the corridor and back to him, as if he wants to say something. He doesn’t, however. Just flashes Newt another smile - hoping Newt understands, which he does - and Newt smiles back. And then he closes the door. Theseus’ footsteps echo from the corridor. Newt listens to them until it fades and he falls asleep once again.

[silverynight]

Dark fic

From Eden

Gellert thinks he's wasting his time waiting for Rosier in that dark bar... Although when he finally comes inside he realizes why she picked that particular place.

It's full of people and they all distracted looking at whoever is about to sing. It's an ideal place to talk about business.

She hasn't arrived yet so the crime lord steps a little bit closer to the stage and that's when he finds himself looking at the most beautiful man he's ever seen. He's illuminated by a blue light that makes him look paler than he probably is, but doesn't hide his adorable freckles.

Babe, there's something tragic about you.

Something so magic about you.

Don't you agree?

Gellert gasps and is glad that no one's there to see how transfixed he is with the redhead and his beautiful voice. So... That's the reason why all of those people are in the bar, they look so mesmerized and he doesn't blame them.

Although it's the last time they enjoy a performance like that... He asks the owner the redhead's name and everything she knows about him; it's easy because the owner recognizes him and she's so afraid she would say 'yes' to anything he asked.

Newton.

It makes Gellert smile; that's what he needed, a beautiful husband... Someone to be kept, someone to have with him at all times.

His Newton will be so happy with him; Gellert will give him anything... everything he wants.

"Hello, darling," it's easy to get to the stage quickly, the owner knows it's better to do as Gellert says. "Come with me, I'll get you a drink."

Newton hesitates, it's obvious he recognizes him, although Gellert is not sure if it's because the owner warned him about Grindelwald or it's something else.

The redhead nods and allows Gellert to take his hand and lead him to the counter.

"You were amazing," he says and enjoys how Newton's face turns bright red just in seconds, making some of his freckles disappear for a moment. "And you're absolutely stunning."

"Thank you."

He's shy, Gellert can tell by the way he avoids eye contact and how much he tries to look at the floor or the counter instead of him.

"I want you to be mine," Gellert is not known for his patience and he's not going to pretend he's willing to wait now.

"What do you–"

Gellert leans forward to kiss the lovely man on the lips, it's barely a touch, but it's also a promise. He wants more... He wants everything.

"I mean I want you to come home with me right now. We'll have dinner at my place and you'll sleep in my bedroom... Then I'll give you anything you want and we'll get married in a couple of weeks, Liebling."

Newton blinks; Gellert knows it's too much information in a couple of seconds and he admits he has surprised even himself. He didn't expect to make a decision so quickly and to be so determined about it.

But he's sure Newton is exactly what he needs...

"I can't... We can't–We barely know each other."

Gellert gives him another kiss, but this time on the neck, Newton shivers and his blush spreads downwards. Grindelwald knows the man finds him attractive.

"I know what I want and I want you, Newton."

The redhead moves away, but Gellert takes him by the waist; over his shoulder he notices Rosier ready to help him if he says so.

"Don't be scared, Liebling... I'll take care of you. I promise I'll make you happy."

"But–"

"Your family will be safe."

Newton understands immediately what Gellert is trying to say and he freezes in the crime lord's arms.

"Good boy," he presses his lips against his again. Then he looks at the woman close to them. "We're leaving, Rosier."

"But, Sir... We need to discuss about–"

"Later, right now I want to spend time with my darling," Gellert mumbles, stroking Newton's cheek. "We'll be so happy together, love. You'll see."

***

Kofi / Patreon

[mybleedingsapphireheart]

Chapters: 4/?

Rating: Mature

Fandoms:

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships: Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander, Credence Barebone & Newt Scamander, Jacob Kowalski & Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein & Tina Goldstein, Queenie Goldstein & Newt Scamander, Leta Lestrange/Theseus Scamander, Newt Scamander & Theseus Scamander

Characters: Gellert Grindelwald, Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander's Magical Beasts, Theseus Scamander, Tina Goldstein, Queenie Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski, Leta Lestrange, Albus Dumbledore, Credence Barebone, Credence Barebone's Obscurus, Vinda Rosier, Carrow (Fantastic Beasts), Krall (Fantastic Beasts), Nagel (Fantastic Beasts), Abernathy (Fantastic Beasts), Seraphina Picquery, Krafft (Fantastic Beasts), Hector Fawley, Torquil Travers, Arnold Guzman, Rudolph Spielman, Gunnar Grimmson, Pickett the Bowtruckle (Fantastic Beasts), Newt Scamander's Niffler, Lestrange Family (Harry Potter)

Additional Tags: Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Psychological Torture, Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Past Torture, Dark Past, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), International Confederation of Wizards (Harry Potter), DMLE | Department of Magical Law Enforcement (Harry Potter), Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant - Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Canon Rewrite, Canon Era, Murder, Attempted Murder, Injury, Blood and Injury, think of this as my version of canon, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, There's A Tag For That, Im so glad there is, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I tried my best, Post-World War I, World War II, Pre-War, Political Alliances, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Politics, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizards, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Muggle/Wizard Relations, Muggles, Psychological Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Spoilers, let's play how many tags can I add, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Fun, Tags Contain Spoilers, bit late for that last one I suppose, Protective Newt Scamander, Protective Newt, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minor Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Past Character Death, Character Death

Sooo, I wrote a Fantastic Beasts fic :D It’s my first ever fic, so feel free to check it out if you want!!

[elisha-am]

A/N: That delete scene.

“Tina, would you mind if I hug you?”

“What? ” Tina’s eyes widened, a shade of red ran across her cheeks.

“I- I am so sorry, it was rude of me, please forget about it.” He felt his face was burning from embarrassment.

He usually had more control of what he was saying, he trained himself to have the restrain after annoying people far too many times, but when it came to Tina, it was like the filter cracked. He still remembered clearly how the need to tell her about her salamander eyes just raging in his mind, even though it was against Jacob’s advice.

And there was now, seeing her basked in the early morning sunlight. Pale skin shined like glittery gold ——was there any wonder that his niffler was drawn to her? She was more beautiful than any treasure and carried a heart of gold ——, eyes puffed with tears still gathered at the corner. He thought that was what did it, seeing her hurting fueled the powerful urge to reach over and engulfed her into his arms.

He was really glad that he still had enough decency left to ask beforehand, instead of just acting on this overwhelming impulse around her.

He needed to give it a name. Naming things gave you a better perspective over them.

“I’d like a hug from you, Newt.”

So lost in his train of thoughts, he almost missed her quiet reply. He snapped his head up and met her eyes, saw the affirmation in them. He glanced around, making sure the others were all occupied so they wouldn’t give them too much attention; Jacob had wandered over toward Kama and Nagini, already chatting them up; his brother, pain and anger shimmering under his skin that felt almost visible, was talking to Flamel about their transportation to Hogwarts.

Satisfied with their semi-aloneness, he took a tentative step toward Tina and then just draw her in with his arms around her shoulders. It should be more awkward, he mused. In his terrifying imagination, they were so lost even on how to put arms around the other, bumping and waving around their arms like idiots——at least his part.

It felt quite different from the rough hug he gave Theseus at the cemetery, both were for comfort, but this one brought a sense of peace to him that he didn’t expect. Even though he was the one who initiated the embrace, he felt like he was the one getting healed.

“I am sorry, Newt.” He heard her whisper , followed by a subtle nuzzle into his neck. “For what happened to Leta.”

Yes, he was the one getting healed.

They stayed locked in each other’s arms for a few more moments. He only broke the hug when he felt the other coming back to them. To his surprise, she reached out her hand to brush his messy fringe hair aside before she took her step back. In that brief second, he was positive that he saw the same unnamed impulse as he felt and the little embarrassment of letting it take control in her eyes.

People gathered around them and started to plan the next move, he decided he would indulge himself a bit more so he looked at her again. When their eyes met and then break away shortly, he felt himself smiled, and didn’t need to look to know she was doing the same.

[willofhounds]

Storm that shakes the pine ch1

A/N yes I know I have a lot of fics to finish but I couldn't help myself. If you dont like m/m go elsewhere. If you dont like soulmates go away. For the rest of you enjoy the story.

Once the reincarnation happens they will be called by their new names. Not by their old.

:thoughts:

"Speaking"

Ozpin's POV

Oscar's body was barely holding itself together. Around them lay their comrades and Salem who was finally dead. Three years in the new reincarnation and they had finally done it.

A tinge of guilt and sadness went through him. This was his fault. If he never returned to the world he this wouldn't have happened. Salem would have stayed a lone witch in the forest.

As his green brown eyes swept over the field he saw Ruby Rose. His brave silver eyed warrior had been the one to defeat Salem.

With the help of Maria Calavera she mastered the powers of her eyes. In the end Jinn had been right. Ozpin and Oscar fighting together in harmony were unable to kill Salem. Their shared body sustained mortal injuries. It was a testament to their sheer willpower that they stayed standing.

All of his friends and colleagues lay dying now. Just when they had saved the world from Salem they weren't going to see it rebuild itself.

Oscar he could tell was tired of war. The war had burdened them all. Oscar being as young as he was got hit the hardest. He was just a boy who was pulled from everything he knew into a war he never wanted to fight.

Ozpin guided Oscar. Trained him mentally and physically. There was only so much one could prepare. Watching ones friends die wasn't something he could prepare Oscar for.

:Oz... it's not your fault. We did all we could was fight our hardest. We won...: came Oscar's tired voice.

Ozpin answered as his own exhaustion coming out, :I only wish I could have done more. We've lost our friends.:

:Oz...:

There wasn't a chance to respond to Oscar. The four relics began to shine their power enveloped them. All of his aches and pains receded.

Ozpin blinked. The world around them whited out. A familiar setting was before him. A golden dragon floated above him.

It took Ozpin several seconds to realize he looked like Ozpin before he was Oscar. Looking around he saw Oscsr. For the first time in thousands of years he was alone in his head.

Ruby and the others also stood around the dragon. As the God of Light he would be able to bring their souls to him. Just as he had done with Ozma.

Ruby asked carefully, "Are you the God of Light? Why are we here?"

The God rumbled as it looked at each of them, "Each of you have played a pivotal role in bringing down Salem. You have overcome your shortcomings and put aside your differences. Some of you even learned from mistakes of the past to get where you are now."

Ozpin flinched. That last part was meant for him. It was his actions that led Salem here.

God of Light continued, "Each of you have earned the right to either go on to the after life. Or to go onto another world where you will be reborn. Things will be different in this world than what you know. No creatures of Grim as you call them. Magic is born into some souls but not others. As a gift those that choose to go to this world will be given magic."

Oscar questioned softly, "What about me? My soul is intertwined is intertwined with Ozpin's."

"That is up to you. Should you both go on to the new world you will not be the same person."

Relief flooded them both. The last thing they wanted was to forever be connected to each other again. Ozpin knew what a burden it was. He didnt want to be such a burden upon the boy again. Let him live his own life without the threats of war and death.

This was a second chance for him to do good. Good without having causing the evil.

Ozpin declared, "I will go on to this new world."

"As will I," came from Qrow.

"You're not getting rid of me that easy, Ozpin," from James.

"I want to see this new world," Ruby.

The God of Light rumbled once more, "Despite you all leaving this world at the same time; not all of you will not enter the next at the same time. Ages and lives will vary but you will all find your own path. Never forget the bonds you have forged. They will serve you well.

White lights surrounded them accepting their choices. Yang was the next to speak, "I'm sorry Ruby but I will not be going with you. I'm tired of the war and fighting. All I want is peace."

They didnt get to hear what anyone else said. The God of Light sent them on.

In the end Ozpin was reborn as Newton Fido Artemis Scammander. He was the second son of the Scammander family.

The Scammander family was a Dark family. His magic was naturally dark as it came from blood first then what was practiced second. Even if Newt was to practice light magic his magic would never be any lighter than dark neutral.

His parents were not what he had grown to expect of the dark. They were gentle with him. There wasn't an ounce of hatred in their eyes.

Newt's biggest struggle though was accepting help. It had been thousands of years since he was so vulnerable. In his previous reincarnations they were all at least 12 or older. They were able to take care of themselves.

Along with accepting his parents help he had a brother five years older than himself. Theseus Scammander was an intelligent boy if his parents were to be believed. They treated him like he was a genius.

When they first came face to f eyes were familiar. Three years of seeing that when he looked in the mirror made them hard to forget.

They were Oscar's eyes. His own eyes were green with a hint of an amber swirl. Both of them groaned internally. The God of Light had a sick sense of humor.

When Theseus turned seven he did something unexpected. Newt was watching from one of the chairs as he unlocked his aura.

Theseus's aura was a dark green. No longer the light green that they had grown used to. The look on his brother's face was comical. It was the final proof that their souls were no longer fully connected. That their destinies intertwined but not overlapping.

Not two months after that Theseus got his soulmate mark. It was that of a raven taking flight. His brother was excited and so were their parents.

Powerful families had the crest of the raven. His parents offered to help Theseus with the search but his brother only shook his head. He would find his soulmate on his own.

The years passed until Newt was five. One day he was out in the gardens and a small green twig like creature moved down the tree he was laying against. From the children books he was allowed to read he knew it was a bowtruckle.

Normally a shy creature it came to rest on his shoulder. With a fascination that he had not felt in a long he began to play with the bowtruckle. Through trial and error he found out that they had their own language. It was through clicks.

With its helps he was able to meet the other bowtruckles in tree. Unlike the one on his shoulder they were more suspicious of him. Earning their trust took weeks but eventually they accepted him.

On Theseus's eleventh birthday they went to Diagon Alley. He got his Hogwarts letter. As Newt would find out every magical child in Britain got this letter. One day Newt would too.

It was in one of the lesser shops that Newt found his cane. It seemed that even in a new world he would never escape the past fully. At first his parents didnt want to buy it since it was Theseus's birthday.

At Theseus's insistence however they got it. As with all his previous lives it felt right in his hands; though to small to wield it properly. Theseus watched over him as he began to practice movements that were second nature once.

By the time he was seven Theseus was a second year in Hogwarts. His own soulmate mark had appeared. It was a circle in a triangle with a line through the middle. The symbol he recognized through his books. It was that of the Deathly Hallows.

Who his soulmate was he didn't know. What he did know was that they would be searching for the Hallows. Most believed it was just a fairy tale. Newt knew that every had some truth to it. Wherever the Hallows were he would avoid them. He had no interest in soulmates.

So he hid his mark with long sleeved shirts or a bracelet. If no one saw it then there was a lesser chance that he would find whoever his soulmate was.

He had learned that dark, light, and neutral magic weren't evil or good. It wasn't like Remnant were dark magic was evil. A lot of it depended on the wizard's intentions.

This made accepting his heritage easier. Having seen what the darkness had done to Salem he at first was wary of it. Now he knew as long as his intentions were true then he would not be consumed by the dark. That was what would push him forward.

The main event in his seventh year of life was unlocking his aura. He remembered the power and sense of duty it gave him every time he had unlocked it. The oath every huntsman had made. This would be his final time making it.

Inside the library away from prying eyes he said, "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death," his heart pounded in his chest. Something in him gave away at the words and a new feeling of duty filled him, "I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee."

A familiar light green light erupted from his chest. It flashed over his body exhausting his energy. His energy was the same level of a seven year old so he couldn't hold it for long.

This encouraged Newt to train every day. On the holidays when Theseus came back he was surprised when his brother offered to train with him. Theseus had decided to be an auror the police of the magical world. He wanted to train both his body and magic for whatever was to come. Newt obliged.

Spars were immensely difficult for the younger Scammander. He was smaller and lighter than his brother. His reflexes slower than he would have liked. Giving up wasnt in him and he pushed through working the old memories into muscle memory. His aura growing stronger with each passing day.

Along with reading and retraining his magic there was little time for idleness. What little time he did find was spent with the creatures. The creatures watched him as he worked through his training. Slowly but surely warming up to him.

From Hippogryffs to bowtruckles all creatures of his home accepted him. In turn he accepted them. They were beings to be cherished.

Finally his eleventh birthday came and he like his brother. Theseus was entering his sixth year and still had not found his soulmate. Not unusual by any means but it discouraged him.

Newt knew that Theseus would find the one meant for him. As long as they lived he would search. Newt would look for the mark that matched it.

September 1st rolled around and Newt felt excitement. He was curious to see what was learned in the schools here.

[silvertonedwords]

Would someone please please make a gifset of Tina’s face during the salamander eyes scene? Just a zoom in on her face whenever the camera’s on her as the scene progresses? I feel like there are a lot of gifs of each of them speaking, but not enough of them listening to each other?

[littlemsnerd]

Focus: A Fantastic Beasts One-Shot

SPOILERS for FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD

Posted on AO3 under little_msnerd

Tina is unable to focus, her thoughts running at a million miles a minute. 

For the third time, she has not been able to save Credence.  After searching for weeks, within a matter of hours, all of her work and hope is crushed.   His desires to understand who and what he is has blinded him to the truth. The boy she had risked her career for, what feels like a lifetime ago, has taken a side.

But so has her sister for that matter.  Her dear Queenie had walked through the blue flames into Grindelwald’s waiting arms.  Tina cannot understand what had led to this.  Since the incident in New York 9 months earlier, Tina began to see changes in her sister.  And while she wanted to blame these changes on the No-Maj who had captured her sister's heart, deep down, she knows Jacob is just as heartbroken and confused by this sudden change in character and morals.  Upon hearing that Queenie had charmed Jacob to coming to Europe to elope, she feels as though she no longer knows her own sister. 

But she isn’t the only one who lost someone close to them today.  Her mind drifts to Leta, the girl she has envied for months, the girl who has sacrificed herself and is likely the reason Tina is still alive.  Since seeing that photo of her in his case, she had to know more about the girl who first held his heart.  When she went to the docks with him at the end of his trip to New York, she couldn’t help the question escaping her about the mysterious girl from his case.  After months of exchanging letters, and simple feelings developing into something deeper, something more, she is crushed to read that he is engaged to his childhood love.  

And yet, it seems everything she knew was wrong.  While she had decided to move on and meet someone else, he was thinking of her.  He kept her photo; not just in his case, but on his person.  He thought her eyes those of a salamander, something that from anyone else would be strange. But from Newt? To compare her something so simple, yet a creature, a topic so dear to him, has her head spinning.

It feels like the world is crumbling around her, that evil will win.  And yet, despite all of this, despite all of the death and betrayal, her thoughts cling to their discussion in the French Ministry.  Now that Credence and Queenie have joined Grindelwald, she is unsure where the future will lead her.  While she wants to stay, to fight, she knows she must eventually return to New York and MACUSA, but she cannot think that far into the future; she simply thinks of the man who has captured her heart.

The man in question is nowhere to be found.  Once they arrived back in England, Newt had gone off with Professor Dumbledore, while Theseus had taken her and Jacob back to Newt’s flat for some rest.  Jacob, trying to process everything that has happened over the last few days, has locked himself in the bathroom, unwilling to talk to her about their shared loss of Queenie. So she has ventured into the basement and simply sits at the edge of a large grass enclosure, watching several large beasts roam in the distance.

While it seems a few of the creatures recognize her from the time she was down in Newt’s case, and others watch her in curiosity, for the most part, she is left to her thoughts.  On her way down the stairs, she encounters Dougal, the demiguise, from their adventure in the Macy’s department store in New York.  Seeming to recognize her, he follows her to where she is currently seated, leaning against her as she runs a hand through his fur.  

The only other creature to venture close to her is the Zouwu, which has laid behind her, his tail curling almost protectively around her as he gently plays with that silly toy that has enraptured him so.  She’s unsure why the Zouwu, such a large and magnificent creature, would want anything to do with her, but she decides not to question it, and simply appreciates the company of the two creatures as she is lost in her thoughts.

When he enters his flat, all Newt can feel is the tension in the air.  Things have changed, whether they like it or not. In all his life, Newt cannot think of another time he has seen Theseus cry in such a manner.  While Newt wants to mourn the loss of Leta, who was once his greatest friend, he knows that her sacrifice will not be in vain.  And despite what has occurred between the two of them during school, he will truly miss her.

Death is not the only thing that has changed their lives.  His heart aches at the thought of Jacob, his bright and cheerful friend, who has not been able to string together a full thought since Queenie walked through the blue flames.  The youngest Goldstein sister made a choice that neither he nor his friends could have anticipated.  Her betrayal has greatly impacted those that Newt holds dear.

Thinking of Queenie leads his thoughts to Tina, and to what these last few days have meant between the two of them.  Over the last months, he couldn’t stop thinking of her, and when Queenie and Jacob arrived, he had so hoped she would be with them. Yet when he finally found her in Paris, he knew something was wrong.  There she was, the woman who had won his heart, and she would barely look at him.

Unsure as to where Jacob and Tina have gone off to, considering the late hour, he assumes they have retired for the night.  Despite the time, he knows he will be unable to sleep and decides to head into the basement, bringing the Niffler along to finally return him to his home for some well-earned sleep.  

He only makes it down one flight of stairs when the Niffler breaks loose and rushes down the rest, despite the ordeal he had survived earlier that day.  Shaking his head, Newt causally follows him, deciding that the creature had earned some freedom after his unknowing assistance.  What Newt doesn’t expect is the Niffler rushing over to another person in the basement.

The little bugger has the nerve to run right up to Tina and place his front paws on her leg.  Newt can't help but notice the small smile that graces her beautiful face when she turns her head and looks down at the small creature.  With a slight shake of her head, she reaches into her pocket, only to pull out a shiny, gold galleon and hands it carefully to the Niffler.  Once the coin is tucked into his pouch, the pest climbs the rest of the way onto Tina's lap before curling up to sleep.

Taking in the sight, Newt marvels at how at ease she is here, with Dougal, the Niffler and the Zouwu, just sitting on the edge of an enclosure.  The woman who asked if he was creating an "extermination guide" genuinely belongs here, with his creatures.  But she isn't just here with his creatures; she’s in his basement, in his home, here with him.  And it makes his heart ache from how beautiful, how marvelous she is; how much he wants to go to her.  

He thinks back to their moment in the French Ministry, finally being able to tell her he wasn't engaged and clear up this whole mess.  Since he and Jacob had found her in the sewer, she was so distant, so cool.  Every Mr. Scamander that came out of her mouth felt like it would cut his heart in two.  And yet, she had read his book.  Not only that, she had read with enough care to know exactly what he was referring to when he saw her eyes.  It felt like he couldn't breathe at that moment, yet she just smiled softly, understanding... almost lovingly.

He could just run back up the stairs and go to bed, continuing this awkward dance they have been playing, but where would that get him?  So, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a deep breath, he walks toward her.  

The Zouwu notices him first, shifting to make room as he walks past, bumping its head against his body affectionately before closing its eyes once more to rest.  He finally reaches her side and sits down slowly.  Dougal and the Niffler completely ignore his presence, content by the affection Tina is giving them.  Her eyes flash to meet his, but other than that, they remain silent for a few moments before Tina finally speaks.

"I apologize for intruding… for coming down here," she states, her voice soft as she stares into the distance.  "Couldn't sleep."  She looks down at the Niffler on her lap and gently scratches the top of his head.

A gentle hum resonates from Newt, understanding.  "Yes, it has been a long day, hasn't it?"  He glances over to her before continuing, "And please, do not apologize.  Of course, you are always welcome down here.  It appears a few of the creatures are attached to you anyway."  He lightly chuckles, less out of humor, and more as an awkward response, unsure how to continue.

“Tina –” he begins, but is interrupted. 

“Newt –”  They lock eyes and the edge of her mouth turns up into a soft smile.  "After you," she breathes out.

His heart is beating loudly in his ears and he is painfully aware of how much she affects him, even just by saying his name. He swallows and quickly looks down at his hands folded over his lap, trying to calm the nerves he feels.  

After months of letters and an ocean between them, he isn't sure where to start.  He honestly is not even sure if she wants to discuss these feelings he has because he hasn't forgotten that she has technically moved on, that she is now with Achilles Tolliver, the brave, American auror. But he has to know where they stand; if he even stands a chance with someone like her.

"I know that... that you have been through a great deal in these last few days... weeks... but Tina," he finally stammers out as he turns back to look at her, "You have to know... I never meant to... to hurt you in any way.  I... I know I'm not always the most eloquent person with words.... and I know what that picture in the article looked like but..."

"Why did you have my picture on you?" she asks suddenly, her eyes searching for something, though he isn't sure what.

He blinks rapidly, unable to process her blunt question.  "I... I mean... Well, Tina.... because..." he looks away, too embarrassed to say this to her face, "well because I've missed you.  Very much."  His words start to speed up, leading into rambling.  "I know I mucked things up with my letters, about what I said about aurors, but you were never just an auror, Tina...  I wanted to come back to New York to deliver my book as we discussed, but with my travel ban...  And I know what you thought of me and Leta.... but Tina, these past months.... all I could think of was you. Of your passion, your courage, your generosity and earnest caring.  Of how positively beautiful you are.... and I kno– "

Newt is so focused on his words and thoughts that he doesn't notice the look on her face as he rambles.  He doesn't notice her remove the Niffler from her lap or as she moves closer to him, watching him with a look of absolute adoration, of love.  He doesn't notice anything until she touches his jaw gently, and his eyes quickly flash to her, just before her lips brush his.

To say the first moment of the kiss isn’t awkward, would be a lie.  His brain is trying to catch up, to understand why she would do this, what this means.  But after a few seconds, his eyes close and he leans toward her, melting into the kiss he has thought of more than once these past few months.

His right hand quickly reaching into her hair, bringing her closer, just as his left falls into place at her waist. The hand that isn’t on his jaw clutches to the fabric of his shirt, as their lips glide across the others, lost in a moment of unexpected intimacy.  Though he isn’t sure how long they stay like this, when they finally part for air, he brushes his lips across her eye before she leans forward to rest her forehead on his.

“I know we have a lot to discuss, Tina,” he whispers gently once he opens his eyes to look down at her face, all of his focus on her.  Bringing the hand buried in her hair to her cheek, he continues, “And I know things are a right mess now…. But I have missed you… so much.”  ”  

[laciefuyu]

Requiscat in Pace

Co-written with @bakercrown

Summary:

Leta receives the tempting offering to resurrect her brother from the devil himself. Unable to live with the crushing guilt another second, Leta agrees. Every choice has consequences and this one will ripple to every person Leta ever has, or will, love.

AKA Leta Lives and Joins Grindelwald AU.

Relationship:

Theta. Jaqueenie Newtina. Queenie & Leta friendship. Leta & Credence Friendship. Scamander Brothers.

Additional Tags:

Enemies to Friends, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Angst and Romance

Chapter 5.

(https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/48854147)

[rachaelswrites]

Bedtime Buddy

Newt Scamander x Daughter!reader

You decided to take a sick Bowtruckle to bed with you, without your father knowing.

Word Count: 524

A/N: Uhh this is my first HP fic and my first time writing for Newt! Hope you enjoy! Reader is about 15/16

Earlier in the day, you noticed that Poppy, one of your father’s bowtruckles, wasn’t feeling well. You suspected she had the same cold that Pickett had gotten over a few days ago. You had heard your father say that Pickett just needed body warmth so you decided you would just keep her with you like he had done. Before you got ready for bed, you snuck back downstairs and grabbed her and brought her back up to your room. You got into your pajamas and into bed. Newt was still up but since you were “sleeping” he wouldn’t disturb you.

You pulled Poppy out of your pocket and she climbed up your arm and rested on your shoulder. You carefully leaned over to grab the book and your wand resting on your nightstand. You opened up the book to the page you left off on.

“Lumos,” you said, using your wand as a reading light so you could read aloud to Poppy and so you didn’t strain your eyes. You kept your voice quieter so your father wouldn’t hear.

~~~~~

Newt was finally on his way up to bed himself when he passed by your door and noticed a light coming from underneath. It didn’t look like the normal lamp or candle light that you would forget to deal with if you were extremely tired so he knew you were still up.

You heard the footsteps walk by your door and then stop. You knew you were about to be caught reading late and with one of the creatures so you quickly tried to put Poppy away and extinguish your wand before your father came in. The doorknob turned and the door opened before you had a chance.

“What are you doing up?” Newt asked, stepping into the room.

“Reading,” you said, trying to block Poppy from his view.

“I see you have a friend with you,” he said, walking over to the bed and sitting next to you.

You shrugged, “She has a cold,” you explained.

Your father nodded slowly, “So you were keeping her warm right?”

“Yes,” you said, “And I thought I could read out loud to her. She was actually enjoying it.”

Newt looked at the small bowtruckle now trying to hide under your pillow.

“You are too much like me for your own good,” he said, resting his hand on the top of your head.

“Well I am your daughter,” you said back, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Sadly yes,” he joked, ruffling your hair.

“So can she stay with me then?” you asked hopefully.

Your father looked from you to Poppy, and then back to you, “Just for tonight you two,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, throwing your arms around him and hugging him.

“Just go to bed now it’s late,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

He got up from your bed and walked to the door. He stepped out of your room and then closed the door behind him.

Poppy poked her head out from under your pillow so you tucked her in before cuddling under the blankets yourself. You fell asleep shortly after.

Taglist

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[katiehavok]

After the wild ride that was Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, I felt like the fandom -- and Newtina especially -- could do with some comfort.

So here, have a slightly angsty Newtina fic featuring fluff and hurt/comfort. There’s some nudity here but nothing sexual, I promise. It’s just Newt being Newt, and Tina being her regular badass self. What’s not to love? <3

Also on fanfic.net for those who prefer that site.

Enjoy and remember that likes, comments and reblogs are love!

[frunbuns]

You’ve Been Hurting For a Long Time

Some days, when he sees someone on the street that looks just a little too like Graves, that makes his blood run cold. He’s quick to apparate home then, trembling hands trying desperately to open the front door until he remembers that the door is locked, and he’ll pull out his wand and wordlessly unlock it, slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbles into the flat, breathing so fast he feels light-headed. That he might pass out right then and there.

And the panicked feeling of; “This is it. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to—”

Newt rides it out on the floor of his empty London flat, with only Pickett as company who chirps at him with concern, unable to do much to help him.

Read on Ao3

It’s a testament to how lonely he really is that he doesn’t even notice it until he’s alone again. New York had been an adventure he’d not forget any time soon. He’d spent a little under two weeks in the city, and yet it had made a larger impact on him than any place he’d ever been. And he had been all over the world.

As the boat had made its way to London Newt spent his time taking care of the creatures in his case. He’d kept himself busy as the journey had dragged on.

Theseus greets him at the docks. He welcomes him home with a tight hug and a pat on the back. He takes him home and they eat dinner together. He wants Newt to be his best man at his and Leta’s wedding. He tells him he’s proud of him and wishes him good luck on the book. Then he leaves for the night.

And suddenly Newt is alone again.

He gets to work on his book, looking through his countless notebooks full of scribbles and messily written notes. Months and months worth of research. He spends hours upon hours every day. 

When he’s not writing he takes care of his creatures. Feeding them, treating their injuries, and studying them.

At night, when every time he closes his eyes all he sees are the malicious eyes of Percival Graves as Newt writhes pathetically down on the train tracks - every part of his body screaming in pain - he stares up at the white ceiling of his bedroom. Heart pounding in his chest.

It’s when it’s pitch black outside and the silence in his flat is so quiet his ears almost start ringing that he feels it the most. The pressure pushing down at his chest, making it hard to breathe. The ache in his heart. The one that doesn’t ever quite go away, but had lessened in New York - and then gets even worse at nights like these.

The crippling loneliness.

Suddenly his creatures aren’t quite enough. It’s not quite the same, and now that he’s had it, losing it had been so hard.

He falls asleep after what feels like an eternity, and wakes up the next morning with the sun shining in through his curtains, and dry tear-tracks on his face. He doesn’t dwell on it for long. He has a basement full of magical creatures that needs taking care of.

He puts it in a small box and stores it away for later. (But later doesn’t come. It never does.)

Theseus talks to him at the Ministry. Asks him how the book is coming along and makes all kinds of small talk that Newt hates. He invites him to have dinner with him and Leta, but Newt declines. 

Every time.

(When he gets home again, to his quiet, empty flat, he wonders why he did it. He never has a good answer. He can’t even remember why he started saying no in the first place.)

Sometimes, when Theseus is talking to him - about the most casual of things - he’ll zone out. The world around him disappears entirely as he stares blankly forward, a faraway look. Theseus will stop talking, and when he comes to again he hears the snapping of fingers, and he sees Theseus’ concerned face in front of him. 

They never talk about it, but the older Scamander brother gives him worried glances at him from time to time. Like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how - or even if he should.

Part of him wishes he would. (Just push a little harder. Prod a little more. And maybe then Newt would finally break apart and tell him everything.)

(“Newt,” her voice rings out from the other side of the door.  “Why don’t you come out? You’ve been holed up in your room for days.”

Newt stares at the floor, lips pressed into a thin line. He’s sat against the wall next to the door, knees drawn up to his chest. Around him, his bedroom is an untidy mess, more so than usually. The curtains are drawn, blocking most of the sunlight out.

Leta sighs. “We’re worried about you.”

Newt looks up then, eyeing the door. “We?” he asks, voice hoarse and quiet after so long of not using it.

“Yes, we,” she says. “Theseus is your brother, and I’m your friend. Of course we worry about you.”

Newt lets out a shuddering breath, blinking away the stinging sensation in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s sure if he did his voice would crack.

He hears Leta sigh. “Just… We care about you, Newt. I don't know what happened in New York, but it must have been bad. We just want to be there for you.”)

Some days, when he sees someone on the street that looks just a little too like Graves, that makes his blood run cold. He’s quick to apparate home then, trembling hands trying desperately to open the front door until he remembers that the door is locked, and he’ll pull out his wand and wordlessly unlock it, slamming the door shut behind him. He stumbles into the flat, breathing so fast he feels light-headed. That he might pass out right then and there.

And the panicked feeling of; “This is it. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to—”

Newt rides it out on the floor of his empty London flat, with only Pickett as company who chirps at him with concern, unable to do much to help him.

(Logically, he knows that Grindelwald is locked away at MACUSA. That there’s no way he could be in London of all places. Especially not disguised as Graves again. That would be foolish of him.)

Newt can only describe it as if he's swimming in deep, freezing water, barely able to keep his head above the surface. He gasps for air that never quite reaches his lungs, unable to call for help. And just when he thinks he might have found his footing, a new wave rolls over him, pulling him back under. 

At times he's worried his body might give out to the exhaustion, and he'll succumb to the dark depths of the sea where no one can help him. (Or maybe he’s already there and he just can’t tell.)

—

It gets better after he receives the first letter from Tina. It says so little, but so much at the same time. He’s quick to write her back. It makes the feeling of loneliness - the loneliness that’s taken such hold of him that it never quite leaves - lessen slightly. 

It’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He smiles for what feels like the first time in forever. It feels good. He’s not quite so alone anymore. Tina is his friend. (The water doesn’t feel quite so bottomless now.)

He wants to go back to New York, but it's rather difficult when he's got an International Travel Ban hanging over his head. He tries to appeal it multiple times, but he's never successful, even with Theseus' help and influence.

— 

He sees Tina’s picture in the paper. Pride swells in his chest, warming his entire being. His heart flutters in his chest when he looks at it. MACUSA is lucky to have her with them.

He’s disappointed to see that the picture doesn’t give the full effect as seeing her in person does. He cuts it out anyway, and keeps it in his case where he can see it. (He’ll see her again in person, he tells himself.)

Theseus does his best to talk to him. (He’s insistent on dinner, even though he knows Newt won’t accept. It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot.) It almost feels like he’s walking on glass around Newt at times, but it still doesn’t mean they get along all the time. They argue. Usually about Aurors. It never gets too heated - Theseus always seems to know when to stop - but it can sour his mood for the rest of the day. (Newt actively avoids him the next day.)

He finishes the book, and he sends it to his publisher. It’s not too long until it’s out. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Theseus and Leta come with him to the book signing at Flourish and Blotts. Leta doesn't seem to be angry with him for not coming to dinner, but Newt has never been good at reading people. Still, it’s a bit of a relief that they’re there. (Theseus has always been a people pleaser, and he basks in the attention as Newt practically cowers behind the desk.)

He meets Bunty, an enthusiastic woman who shares a love for beasts only rivaled with his own. He decides he quite likes her, and she’s more than willing to become his assistant and help him take care of the creatures he has. With the book money Newt finds he can afford it, and decides to hire her.

The rest of the day goes by in a jiffy, and before he knows it he’s back in his quiet, empty flat. But it’s not as bad as before. (It’s as if the water is getting shallower.)

He waits for Tina’s next letter. He’s ecstatic to hear from her again. Even if he can’t keep his promise and deliver the book to her in person. Still, he keeps a copy for her hidden away for when he eventually can.

Tina’s letter never comes.

The weeks drag on, but not as much as an owl pecks at his window.

(She must have finally had enough of him, he thinks. He must have annoyed her too much. Written something he shouldn’t have. Said something wrong, like he always seem to do.)

(Maybe Newt Scamander just wasn’t meant to have friends after all…)

Still, he holds out hope for her. That it isn’t like that. That it’s not his fault. Something else just got in the way. But the emptiness in his heart, that had ever so slowly started to heal again, grows. (The water around him rises.)

Life goes on. He still can’t get his travel ban appealed. Bunty is nice company when she comes, but it’s just as lonely in his flat when she leaves again. It’s better than it was though, and it eventually fades a little into the background. Never quite forgotten, but never fully present either. 

It gets easier to breathe, he finds. The rainy days of England don't seem as bleak and dreary anymore. It gets better. (It’s not quite as empty anymore.)

Paris happens. Leta dies, and Queenie joins Grindelwald. And all the things he thought he had left behind in New York comes rushing back. Just when he thought he might be healing.

It feels like he’s drowning all over again. The waves crash into him with more force than ever and Newt can’t breathe. It feels like there are ankors tied to him, or that he’s suddenly forgotten how to swim.

It’s easy to shit himself in. Isolate from the rest of the world. From everything and everyone. He doesn’t leave his flat. He skips meals. Some days he sleeps the day away and others he doesn’t sleep at all. He stays away when Bunty comes. He never quite knows when the next time he’s going to burst into tears or have a panic attack might be - and he doesn’t want Bunty’s concern - so he doesn’t take any chances.

(It should have been him.)

Newt is not used to being angry so when he first notices it, he’s scared. He finds that he’s angry at Grindelwald. At the Ministry. At Queenie. At everyone, even himself. 

He’s not himself anymore, and he’s not sure if he ever will be again. (He will, but it will take time.)

At night he dreams of Grindelwald and Graves. He tosses and turns until he wakes with a yell on his lips. The nightmares are bad. Sometimes it’s just Grindelwald, other times they involve his Tina, and Jacob, and Queenie, and Theseus. Other nights the nightmares don’t even have anything to do with Paris or New York.

But some nights the dreams are pleasant. About him and Leta. Sometimes at Hogwarts. Sometimes not. He misses her.

(“You should come out,” she says, then after a pause, “I know you’re listening, Newt. You should talk to him.”

Newt closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall.

“I know you’re hurting… but so is he. He needs you just as much as you need him right now. You don’t have to go through this alone, Newt.”

He looks at the door separating them. 

“You’re the most important people in my life, and I hate to see you suffering like this. Just—” She pauses for a second. “Just let us in, Newt. Please.”

A beat. 

“I love you, you know.”

Newt stands up. He takes a shaky breath and goes to the door. He swallows thickly, hand hovering over the door handle. Leta remains silent, as if she’s expectantly waiting for him.

He opens the door.

And then he wakes up.)

Time goes on.

—

The cold winter air dances around him. Newt buries himself further into the coat. His shoulders are stiff as he walks the streets. Pickett chirps softly from his breast pocket.

He stops in front of Theseus’ door. He finds himself hesitating. This is the first time he’s been outside - properly outside - in weeks. It had all been on a whim. He hadn’t planned on going out today, and now he finds that he regrets it. 

He had gotten a quick look in the mirror as he threw on his coat and scarf. He’s a mess. Messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, ghostly pale skin, and sunken cheeks. He had barely recognised himself where he stood. Surely Theseus can wait another day. He can come back sometime else, when he’s not so disheveled.

Pickett chirps at him and Newt shakes his head.

‘Worrying means you suffer twice,’ he tells himself. A motto he hasn’t lived by in a while now. Something he hasn’t thought about in ages.

With a shaking hand he moves to ring the buzzer.

The door opens.

Newt gasps, breath hitching in the back of his throat as he jumps back in surprise.

“Newt—?” Theseus looks equally surprised to see him there, looking him down with wide eyes.

The older Scamander doesn’t look much better than Newt. He’s pale too, his normally pale freckles a stark contrast to his light skin. His hair is disheveled, like his, and he’s not wearing a suit like he usually does. It takes Newt by surprise.

They stare at each other in silence.

Then theseus clears his throat, looking him directly in the eyes. Newt wants to look away, but finds himself unable to. “Newt, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in weeks—”

Newt opens his mouth to answer, but he chokes over the sound, a wet sob passes through his lips. He blinks away tears. “I— I’m—”

Theseus sighs sadly. “Oh Newt,” he says softly before he pulls Newt into his arms. He rubs his back soothingly as the younger Scamander sobs into his shoulder, gasping for breath between each one as his body shakes as they rack his body. “I know, I know.”

“I’m— I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I—”

“It’s alright, Newt,” Theseus murmurs to him. “You’ve been hurting for a long time.”

They stand there for a while, taking comfort in each other’s presence, until Newt’s sobs subside to shuddering breaths and sniffles.

“I miss her.”

Theseus swallows thickly. “Me too,” he replies, voice thick with emotion and eyes filled with unshed tears. “Me too.”

The ocean splashes at his feat, but it’s alright. Newt knows how to swim now.

[maggieandthedragon]

They wouldn’t find any trace. Theseus could feel it in his bones, in the metallic taste of the magic-ruined brandy. Gellert Grindelwald had killed Percival and Leta and now he was gone. He had an Obscurus now, and maybe the Elder Wand if the rumors were to be believed. Gellert Grindelwald was winning and Albus Dumbledore stayed in Hogwarts, dispensed platitudes, and hid behind euphemisms that Theseus was far too much of a molly not to understand.

More than brothers. Lovers, he meant, but Albus Dumbledore’s lover lived and both of Theseus’ were dead.

Or, the one where Theseus' grief leads to risk something terrible, but he has more left to lose than he thought.