#Grindelnewt

[10kiaoi]

Grindelwald finds the Dragon Rider.

[grimalkinmessor]

Am I memeing correctly?

[dyvekeskoeld]

from Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

 I wanted to draw one of the characters from the new FB movie yesterday, but ended up drawing almost the entire main cast…

[skiplo-wave]

Two types of Newt

1- completely oblivious to flirting or any romantic advances. 2-very blunt even sassy comments about said advances Then there's 3- he's aware but just like the people to suffer in trying to figure if he's that clueless or being jokester

[into-the-newtcase]

grindelwald: *whips newt*

newt: harder daddy

grindelwald: what

newt: what

obscurus: what

[silverynight]

Random person: Are you in love with Newt Scamander?

Percival: I'm married to my work, I don't have time to fall in love, not even with a sweetheart like that.

Albus: I'm too old for him, he doesn't want me back. Not that I want him... Oh, yes, he's lovely, but I'm not in love, of course not.

Theseus: He's my brother and I love him, very much, yes, I'm aware that we are purebloods, but no, I have never thought about how our wedding is going to be... wait, what was the question again?

Gellert: Newton has frustrated my plans more than once. No, I'd never hurt him, have you seen him? Why would I hurt such a lovely thing like that? Yes, I'd fuck him for sure, repeatedly, but that doesn't mean I'm obsessed or in love.

Narrator voice: They all were in fact helplessly in love with Newt.

[ortoroxy]

Gellert Grindelwald x Newt Scamander

Gellert: Newt!

Newt: *turns around*

Gellert: Wait.. Don’t do this. I beg you

[kanofsoda]

Newt: If you were dating me, what would you do to me?

Theseus: Hug you

Leta: We’d skip class to go see some creatures. Just us alone.

Tina: After you gaze into my salamander eyes for 10 hours we’d help each other in some sort of difficult situation.

Jacob: We would just chill out in your case and eat some of my pastries!

Albus: We would have a nice cup of tea together because you are such an adorable cinnamon roll cuz fuck everybody else

Gellert: We’d lay down on the bed together, clothes all over the floor, I’d wrap my arm around your waist breathing all over your neck and gobbling your moans all up, then I will grab your nice ass and make you cum all over the bed sheets so it matches my hair color, I’d also-

Theseus: Alright we get the picture

Newt: uuuuhhh.....

[aethelar]

Newt Scamander might not know a lot about a lot of things, but he knows damn well how to spot someone disguising their wings and Percival Graves is disguising his wings.

They’re black, the wings in question, tucked neatly in against his spine. Too neatly. And too black, actually; very few black feathers are so completely, flatly black - even Tina’s dark grey wings show their blue tint in the sunlight. But Percival Graves’ wings are black. Distractingly so; they don’t look quite right, don’t reflect properly under the harshly artificial light in the interrogation room. When Graves leans forwards to press his questions, his wings lean with him at the same precise angle, held in exactly the same neatly tucked position against his spine.

Newt’s own wings shuffle and fluff behind him, the mottled brown-white feathers ruffling up as he frowns in concentration. He’s not known for keeping them still, and he knows a lot of people move their wings a lot less than he does - but even so, surely the rigid control Graves is exerting over his own would be uncomfortable? Everyone’s wings move. At least a bit. The way Graves holds his, it reminds Newt of some of the soldiers back in the war, the careful, painful way they kept them stiff and unmoving when their wings were injured.

He doesn’t think Graves’ wings are injured. He also, when Graves gets frustrated with his distracted answers and leans further forward into the light, doesn’t think the way the shadows fall on his feathers is natural.

But clearly, clearly, Newt doesn’t think at all when he raises a finger in triumph at solving the puzzle. “Ah,” he says, interrupting Graves’ latest threat. “You’ve not used enough layers. It’s why your scattering’s off.”

Silence. Even Tina’s anxious fidgeting behind him cuts off.

“I beg your pardon?” Graves rumbles, something in his tone that wasn’t there before. His wings though, they don’t move, and Newt showcases yet more of his lacking self preservation by pointing at them.

“There, see,” he says. “Your illusion’s too flat, it’s stopping you from moving them. They’re dark enough that you can get away without proper shading when you hold them still, but if you moved them it’d be obvious that they aren’t real. You need more layers for the light to reflect otherwise it won’t look right.”

Graves leans back, eyebrow raised. “Clever,” he says, half to himself. “And what does a... magizoologist know about illusions?” He pronounces magizoologist carefully, delicately. It means something, the way he says it, but Newt’s always been better at reading wings than people. Tina is frighteningly still behind him, and if Graves’ gaze were any less intent Newt would turn around to check on her.

He has the sudden feeling that he’s made a mistake.

“Only some,” he says around a suddenly dry mouth. “I, uh, I use them sometimes. For my creatures. Their habitats, the environments - um.” He shrugs. His feathers are floofed up in the beginnings of alarm. He wishes for a moment that he had an illusion running on them; Graves doesn’t seem the sort of man he wants to show weakness in front of. “I don’t know much,” he finishes.

“Enough to call a lie when you see it,” Graves says, eyes falling to half lidded. There’s something almost smug in the curve of his mouth, like one of the dragons closing in on an unsuspecting prey.

Newt is suspecting. He can’t say for certain that he isn’t prey but he’s very, very suspecting. He wants, desperately, to look behind him and check on Tina because she’s been too quiet now for too long, but he can’t look away.

“I wonder,” Graves purrs. “Tell me, Newt, what other lies can you see through?”

The feeling of magic in the air is getting thicker. It presses down on Newt, trying to force his wings back in submission, and it’s only years of practice being stubborn that keep him in place.

“I don’t know what you’re asking,” he says as carefully as he can. If anything, his defiance makes the magic coil tighter around him. Horrifyingly, it seems pleased.

“No?” Graves asks. The illusion on his back flickers; for a second, his wings are huge, arched over his head and casting Newt into shadow. “How about the lie that certain magical creatures are a danger to society and must be exterminated? You’ve been quite vocal about that one in the past.” The wings flicker again; they aren’t black. Newt can’t tell what colour they are, but they aren’t black, and they aren’t neatly held against his spine. “Or the lie that muggles take priority in territory disputes? That magical society has to draw further and further back to make space for their greed - how many magical species are at risk now because of that?”

Gold, Newt thinks. Jagged, gold feathers, bleached almost white under the interrogation room lights.

Tina, he also thinks, where the fuck is Tina.

“Or the lie,” Graves says, except it isn’t Graves, there’s only one person with wings like that and it isn’t Percival Graves, “that it’s a wizard’s responsibility to hide, to sit back and do nothing when so much of the magical world depends on us, all because we’re too afraid of being seen.”

Grindelwald’s magic is heavy against his skin, holding him in place and sliding over his neck, gentle and languid and coaxing and dangerous. His pulse thunders against it. He’s pretty sure that he and Grindelwald are the only ones left in the room, and Grindelwald’s wings are curled so far towards him that Newt is almost completely encircled by the reaching feathers. His own wings, tucked in close and bristling in fear, feel small in comparison.

“You’ve such a collection in that case of yours,” Grindelwald says, two-toned stare hot and almost possessive as it flicks over Newt. “And you’re so good at seeing through society’s lies. I hardly think you’re the sort of man to sit back and do nothing, are you?”

Newt shivers. The magic around his throat doesn’t tighten, but would it, what would it do if he said no. Yes. No? Which one means - there are too many double negatives, Newt’s not sure what the right answer is, and Grindelwald’s wings and magic are too close for him to risk giving the wrong one.

“I...” He licks his lips, but that doesn’t help the way his voice stutters. Grindelwald leans forward on his elbows, indulgent, patient. His left wing trails up to Newt’s shoulder, the feathers brushing against his chin. Newt’s creatures are relying on him and if he dies here, if Grindelwald twists his magic and Newt chokes on it, then they’re as good as lost - MACUSA won’t hesitate to destroy them.

“Hm?” Grindelwald prompts.

Newt’s creatures need him. The only answer is the one that saves them.

He tilts his head back and lets his wings fall open in submission, and Grindelwald laughs.

“Such a clever little thing,” the Dark Lord calls him, and Newt closes his eyes and hopes he made the right choice.

[thosesadistictendencies42]

[natecchi]

"Why should I believe you?" Grindelnewt?

@firebyfire Here’s your Grindelnewt. I tried. (@funkzpiel I believe you expressed your interest? If not, I apologize for misunderstanding.)

“Mr. Graves.” A pair of dark brown eyes look up to him from the great pile of paperwork on their owner’s desk. Graves slightly frowns and Newt knows why: he’s out of breath, he’s practically leaning on said desk for support and his eyes are pleading.

“What happened, Mr. Scamander?” Graves asks, almost nonchalantly as his eyes drop back to his papers.

“I need your help.” At Graves’ raised eyebrow, he continues “I found out about some smugglers of occamy egg shells.” Newt takes a deep breath and gulps “I need the help of Aurors here, your help. I’m afraid I won’t stand a chance alone in this situation.” His eyes stare into Graves’ ones, firm determination burning in them. He doesn’t dare to look away, not when so many beasts were on the line.

Graves puts the papers down, stretching his back a little. He looks calm and composed as ever.

“I can’t.” He simply says and Newt’s heart sinks. Before he can mutter his question, Graves beats him to it “We got this big case on our hands, Mr. Scamander, and I simply can’t send a team with you, only because you heard some rumors.”

“But-” Newt starts to protest, and he’s silenced by Graves’ raised hand.

“Shush, Mr. Scamander, I got no time for that. I’ll get O'Brien. He’ll go with you.”

And simple like that, Newt is dismissed out of Graves’ office and in department’s corridor. He waits for O'Brien to come up, fidgeting nervously with the handle of his case.

When the man pats his shoulder, Newt jumps on his spot and squawks. O'Brien flashes him a grin, his usual grin and urges him out of department and to the apparition point.

“So, Scamander,” O'Brien says and Newt’s eyes focus on man’s broad shoulders, his tall figure, his big, strong hands “what is it this time?” He asks Newt over his shoulder.

“Occamy egg shells.” Newt mutters. The man slows down, falling into Newt’s rhythm, walking beside him. Newt smiles, continuing his explanation “You see, those are made of pure silver, and they cost a lot on the black markets these days, so obviously there are people who want to smuggle those.”

O'Brien is silent and Newt just continues rambling about occamies and their precious egg shells, completely missing the dark look in man’s eyes. They arrive at the apparition point, O'Brien takes Newt’s hand, saying simply “Lead the way, Scamander.”

And Newt just does it. The second his legs are on hard surface, he’s being shoved into the wall of a building in the narrow alley they apparated to. The battered suitcase is dropped on the ground with an echoing thud. Newt tries to wriggle out of O'Brien’s iron grasp and blinks confused at the man.

“What- What are you doing, Mr. O'Brien?” Newt says and it comes out as a whine. He slaps himself mentally.

“I’m sorry, Scamander, but you stay back and forget about those eggs.” There’s something dark in those usually kind eyes and Newt shivers.

“Why would I?” Newt says, gulping when O'Brien shoves him further into the bricks of wall. The man rolls his eyes, almost in exasperation at Newt’s question.

“I’m taking those.” O'Brien hisses through gritted teeth in Newt’s face. Newt’s stomach drops. So, in the end, they’re all the same…?

He grips at O'Brien’s strong hands and tries to shake them off himself. He feels angry, betrayed. “Only over my lifeless body!” Newt snarls and grips harder.

It doesn’t affect the man in any way. He just lets go of Newt, dodges his weak attempt to punch him in the gut and smiles wickedly at the magizoologist.

“As you wish, Scamander.” O'Brien’s eyes flash dangerously before Newt sees a drawn wand, pointed at him and hears a spell muttered under man’s breath.  The world spins and Newt is falling on the muddy pavement before he even realizes it. Warmth spreads in his chest and he pats at the fabric of shirt here, finding it hot and damp. He brings the hand to his face and blue eyes widen. O'Brien was definitely determined to kill him for some occamy egg shells. He sees O'Brien’s wicked smile once again before he’s out of his field of view.

His head falls back, hitting the hard surface of asphalt as a ragged breath comes out of his mouth. Newt coughs violently and blood gushes out of both the wound in his chest and his mouth. He wasn’t going to make it. Eyes falling on the suitcase laying somewhere nearby, Newt makes an effort to reach out to it. His outstretched hand falls back down before he reaches for it. He’s completely drawn of any strength which was in him. All he can do is lay there and wait for his end, completely alone.

Sounds of explosions and screams fill the cold air, but Newt is completely unfazed by them. He continues to look at the gray sky, thinking about his creatures and how they will survive without his care. A single tear rolls down his temple. Rain starts pouring like a waterfall, drenching him in a matter of seconds. Trails of blood mixed with water and mud run over the dirty gray pavement. The rain silences everything around him, swallows any sounds. He can only hear the rhythmic splattering sound of water against ground and the pulse of his heart, which becomes weaker with every passing minute.

Before he knows it, there’s a figure beside him, staring down and shielding him from the rain.

“I took care of everything.” Newt hears the person say and shifts his eyes to them. Familiar mismatched eyes of Gellert Grindelwald look back into his.

A shallow breath escapes his bloodied lips and he continues to stare, eyes unfocused. Merlin, he’s so tired of everything.

“Why should I believe you?” Newt murmurs, as if to no one in particular, but Grindelwald knows it’s him and probably another dozen of people whom this question is directed at.

Grindelwald crouches down, beside Newt and inspects his wound. Newt’s vision darkens and he wishes he could see his beasts for the last time. Grindelwald cradles Newt’s face with both hands, his skin warm against Newt’s cooled one “Because, I’m the only one who truly cares, Newton.”

Images of Theseus, looking indifferently at him when Newt pleaded his brother to help him to get the hippogriff from under the heavy rock, which Newt couldn’t levitate, because he wasn’t a powerful wizard like his brother, - his lips pursed into a thin line, the annoyance in his eyes - all of this floods his mind. Tina, Graves, all of them have the same look. It makes Newt wonder, why he did believe all of them?

Newt gasps - and that is an effort for his damaged lungs - when Grindelwald suddenly presses his forehead to his and starts chanting something under his breath. Puffs of hot air warm Newt’s lips and his body is engulfed by magic, strong and firm, not as cold as he thought of it many times. It’s comforting and reassuring in some way. The magic heals him, Newt can feel it and his eyes fill with tears. He can move the numbed limbs again, and the first thing he does is clinging to Grindelwald’s coat for dear life.

Eventually, the man releases him and Newt isn’t dying anymore. He blinks away the tears and looks how Grindelwald takes out of his coat pocket an egg. It’s of a beautiful silver and Newt bits back a sob. He sits up, taking the offered egg and clutching it close to his chest. He mouths his gratitude and thinks that perhaps, this man deserves a little chance.

[10kiaoi]

Don’t you dream of a better world, Newton?

[grimalkinmessor]

Traitor

WARNING: CoG spoilers!!!

(This is still my Stolen Newt AU, but there’s like three more snippets that come before this one...I just couldn’t help myself.)

.

.

.

The ampitheatre filled with the sound of disapparation as Newt felt Niff climb back into his coat. Grindelwald gave a rather dramatic twirl of his wand and bright blue Fiendfyre erupted in a circle around the dias like a sweltering, roaring moat. Newt felt lightheaded, all the blood in his face draining as dread settled like a anvil in his stomach.

Vinda Rosier crossed the lake of fire easily, as did Abernathy, but when Krall went to cross, he halted halfway and began to scream as his body disintegrated into ash. It only took a few moments, but the shriek rang around the room like a warning for all those foolish enough to have stayed behind. It was a promise of swift, excruciating, death. A promise that no one could decieve the Dark Lord Grindelwald.

“My brothers, sisters,” Grindelwald called, almost pleasantly, from the dias. “The choice is simple. We fight for a new age. For freedom. For love.” He spread his arms wide in invitation. “Escape from this room is nay impossible. Join me, or die.” It was not a threat. It never was, and never would be. The intent in his words was genuine, if misplaced.

Newt swallowed and glanced around the room. Tina stood between two men just before the circle, lips pursed and face white. The girl from the circus stood with Credence, not far away from them. Theseus stood to Newt’s right, a furious look on his face, his normally immaculate auburn curls in complete disarray from his frustration.

This moment was pivotal. Irreversible. Once a decision was made in this room, there would be no going back.

I don’t do sides.

Newt briefly (hysterically) envied the poor girl who had been killed just moments before, blessedly unaware of the turmoil left behind.

The aurors rushed forwards, wands at the ready, only for Grindelwald to flick his wand absently towards them and sweep them up in deadly tongues of sky blue flame. A few tried to disapparate as well, but the Fiendfyre reared up and destroyed them just before they disappeared. Newt watched with ice in his heart as Queenie tried to pull Jacob with her towards the circle. Her screech of desperation and Jacob’s look of horrified dismay as she turned and went to Grindelwald said it all.

Queenie was lost.

Newt felt Theseus step onto the step beside him. His presence, which Newt normally found a bit suffocating, eased his cluttered, panicked mind. For all of three seconds.

“Mr. Scamander,” Merlin, his voice was so cold. Newt felt the fleeting but prominent urge to ask, ‘Which one?’ He stifled it as he saw Grindelwald shift his gaze from Theseus to Newt. There was a flash of something there—pain, betrayal, longing, hunger—but it was gone so quickly Newt could’ve argued that he imagined it. “Do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?” He was most definitely speaking to Newt now.

Therefore Newt was not surprised when the next flame lashed out at his face. He whipped his wand up in unison with Theseus to keep from getting burned, pulse loud in his ears.

As Newt struggled to keep the flame away from him, he saw Credence come down out of the corner of his eye, and for the first time that night, he felt a flicker of fear. Fear for this child who was desperate for love, who was desperate to belong, who could be shattered so easily.

Newt didn’t think—he moved. He yelled Credence’s name, but the boy didn’t seem to be able to hear him. He tore away from the girl’s arm and went through the circle to take Grindelwald’s arm. Credence disappeared.

“Grindelwald! Stop!” It was Leta.

Newt felt rather like he was having several, simultaneous heart attacks.

He wondered if this was how Theseus felt most of the time.

“Ms. Lestrange,” Grindelwald mused with a small smile. He left the dias to slide up towards Leta, a hand outstretched. “Unloved by your kind, unwanted by your family." He paused just a step below her, welcoming. "Come home, my dear.” He let Leta clasp his hand for a moment, and Newt felt his heart stop.

“Leta, no!” Newt shouted as he lept—quite literally lept—over a rowdy tendril of fire to race towards his childhood friend.

Grindelwald’s smile twitched and slid off his lips. His expression became blank, stony. He stepped back and let his hand slip from Leta’s. Turning on heel, he beckoned for her over his shoulder, a lure and a threat in his eyes.

Newt skidded to a stop on the step three above Leta's just as Grindelwald stepped back onto the dias. Swallowing harshly and biting back the whisper of a plea, Newt tore his eyes from Grindelwald and focused on Leta. He held out his own hand from above. "Leta please," He rasped. "Please."

Because the circle of Fiendfyre was very clear that only those truly loyal to Grindelwald could pass through it with any ease. And Leta; he knew Leta, and she wasn't loyal to Grindelwald, she couldn't be, not if she truly loved Theseus.

Because she was his best friend, and because he loved his brother, he could not let her go.

Thankfully, Leta seemed to be questioning it herself. War in her eyes, she searched Newt's face with what looked like pain, then hesitantly reached out to take his hand. Newt let out a sigh of relief and clasped their hands together with a lopsided smile as he stepped down beside her.

But something wasn't right. Leta's eyes teared up, and she tightened her grip on his hand. "I'm sorry."

Then she whirled and slung him down the last three steps and into the Fiendfyre. Newt gasped as he felt himself go weightless for a moment, and then abruptly crash down into the spitting tongues of flame below. He tensed up, eyes squinted shut, as his shoulder hit the concrete floor and he braced himself for the horrible pain of burning to death.

But there was nothing.

Newt's eyes popped open and he scrambled to his feet. He stood, chest heaving, in the middle of the fire. Hazel eyes found blue, and saw that Theseus was gawking at him in disbelief, just as Tina had a hand clapped over her mouth, and Leta...Newt wasn't even going to look at Leta.

The other aurors in the room had stopped what they were doing, eyes dark and angry on his shaking form. Because Newt should be dead. The fact that he was not, well, it said much more than any words ever could.

Unbidden, Newt's eyes burned with oncoming tears. He stumbled back away from the glares of the aurors, the dreadful disbelief in his brother's eyes, and Jacob's doubly heartbroken face. Like a skittish animal, Newt shied away from their eyes, and their feelings, because he was having quite a time of his own, thank you very much. This just voiced the fear that Newt had already confirmed inside his own head.

Traitor

Newt gasped again as he tripped backward, only to be caught by familiar, warm hands. When he looked back, he saw that the ice in Grindelwald's eyes had thawed. Shock and awe had taken its place.

A blink and they became half-lidded, glimmering. "Mein Feuervogel..."

Newt's heart ached. He panicked.

Grindelwald tightened his grip on Newt just as he began to struggle. He tugged the frantic magizoologist into his chest as Newt turned pleadingly towards his brother, who had gone stark pale.

"T-Theseus, please! Thes—"

And then everything was gone.

[mischiefs-hawk]

Okay so yesterday I was talking with @silverynight about this but now I’m like expanding on it. 

In the comic-con trailer for Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, there’s a audio clip of Gellert saying “Mr.Scamander!” and “Do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?” 

I’m thinking the two clips were put together, along with the visual of Gellert seeming to cast a spell towards Newt. Here’s what I’m thinking- the trailer was edited to look like that. They wanted us to think that Gellert was threatening Newt. 

I think Gellert isn’t threatened by Newt because Newt isn’t firmly on one side or the other. He even says in the last trailer that he doesn’t do sides. Newt is just as chaotic as Gellert- he’s just chaotic good whereas Gellert is between chaotic neutral and chaotic evil. 

Newt is someone who isn’t posing a threat to Gellert- and if you’re thinking:But he revealed Graves as Gellert at the end of Fantastic Beasts!  

I think Gellert was already planning to do that- he’s cover was gone already and by then he was already planning to leave. Note all the references to Credence that he needed the Obscurial soon. He planned to leave at that time. 

When Newt revealed him, Newt didn’t do it because ‘It’s Grindelwald and he’s a bad man,’ he did it because ‘I don’t trust this person and this person has put my friends in danger.’ Newt couldn’t care less that its Grindelwald, only that his actions have hurt Newt’s friends. 

And this is intriguing to Grindelwald. This young man with an affinity for magical beasts and the fondness of Albus Dumbledore who doesn’t care that he captured Grindelwald? He just wants to do, as Albus said, “the right thing?” 

That means something to Grindelwald and I think in the movie we’re going to see Grindelwald doing what he can to get the Magizoologist on his side. Newt Scamander is an interesting man- and with Grindelwald, he’ll be a powerful one. 

[skiplo-wave]

[veronas-weasel-blog]

I FREAKING LOVE GRINDELWALD

AND JOHNNY IS PERFECT