#but whisper & tangle are some of the coolest characters to me

[whisper-and-tangle]

ohhh god. oh no. tangle is CLEARLY super nervous here- she's sweating, and has no idea what to do- but she's making jokes and trying to smile and even laugh, because first of all, she wants to be a hero-

does trying to be witty to divert attention away from disastrous situations remind you of anyone. anyone with blue quills and pronouns.

-And she even did this during the metal virus arc, when she literally fucking died. Tangle is desperately trying to keep the team together- she doesn't want it to fall apart, and won't let that happen- she's trying to reassure everyone, but Lanolin's just done with it. Every mission they've ever been on- From the metal virus (Where a pissed-off Lanolin appeared in the background) to Surge,- they escaped by the skin of their teeth. They're barely scraping by- and Lanolin was on the sidelines then. She's now being referred to as boss, by Tangle, trying to cheer her up- basically Tangle's way of saying 'oh god. we're completely fucked. we need a plan or we're all fucking dead' (i mean. im exaggerating a bit but whatever) and Lanolin...just gave up.

She doesn't think she's cut out for it. She was desperate, needed help- maybe a distraction from life- or a way out of this place- or was done with all the destruction- I'm not sure yet, I don't exactly know her origin story, but either way, she joined the restoration and watched it crumble.

She watched leaders quit and falter, she watched the metal virus destroy their last 'bastion of hope', she watched the restoration that was supposed to rebuild, razed to the ground, forced to start all over again.

Tangle's terrified and she doesn't want to show it.

Lanolin's gave up and lost any hope.

Sonic's struggling, but trying to hide it.

And Blaze & Silver only just arrived-

And Whisper?

She's hurt. Not physically, atleast yet- but she's clearly emotionally hurt, her relationship with Tangle clearly strained at the moment-

But Tangle's struggling too, and she can't always be upbeat and cheery, but she can try, except the Whisper being upset with her isn't just painful for Whisper- it's painful for Tangle! She had no idea about Surge! She was trying to be nice- trying to honour their memory- and while it was a stupid, maybe even out of character decision- her intentions were pure, and she doesn't know why Whisper is so mad about it. Whisper has a right to be upset- but, for things to be fixed, they need to push past this and have a moment to talk about it.

The thing is, though?

Tangle already tried.

She tried talking to Whisper, but she's too mad to even want to talk.

Either they'll have a big argument, maybe eventually sorting things out, or Whisper will finally calm down- and they'll be able to talk things out.

But right now? The former seems more likely.

She just wants to fix things, but it seems like everyone else is too busy watching the flames burn it all down to try.

[beevean]

I find it almost saddening how much I've soured on Whisper since she was introduced. She started as such an intriguing character with, imo, a cool design and an intriguing backstory, and in the T&W miniseries we got a very touching story of the two of them growing closer together, with both (especially Tangle) showing off their smarts and why they could make a good match. And then the misery porn train got a hold of her and like 90% of the stories she's in have her get injured, hurt emotionally, forced to recall her trauma in painful ways, constantly dragging her into new traumatic experiences and not allowing her any moving on, while the 'hero' characters are not even shown in the wrong for causing her those (Tangle's crocodile tears about accidentally triggering Whisper: their team is called the Diamond Cutters now. Sonic waltzing right over her rightful apprehension of having Surge around: Surge is allowed to stay.) Not helped by the fact they wrote Silver as an "OhmahGAW GUARDIAN ANGEL!!!!! So cool! So epic! Let me worship the ground you walk on and keep this up for all issues we're gonna work together!!!!" in order to help shill her some more. Except that made that Whisper now is the coolest person in the world ever, unless when the plot needs her to be weak as fuck, crying constantly, and getting overrun by her alleged allies to make readers either feel sad or squeal at Muh Dramatic Irony. Which currently is all the time.

It's strange. So many things with IDW that people now dislike were there from the first handful of issues onwards, but only as things began to go more and more south we began to see it, I feel like.

So many things with IDW that people now dislike were there from the first handful of issues onwards, but only as things began to go more and more south we began to see it, I feel like.

I'd say it's because of multiple factors:

the post-Forces backlash that lead the fandom to have rose-tinted glasses towards IDW (I'm sadly forced to admit that I was one of those people :<)

the general love for the then recently-cancelled Archie that made fans latch onto IDW and Flynn (I wasn't one of those people lol. Never read Archie <3)

the patience towards a new series still finding its footing, with the assumption that it would get better with time. Spoiler: it got worse :)

Anyway, yes. Whisper started out with a cool concept: an introverted, shy girl who preferred to use weapons and not necessarily stick with a team. She feels different enough from the other girls in the cast, but like she could belong, especially in the earlier volumes that were meant to be a continuation from Forces.

But it's clear that the writers don't really know what to do with her, but they can't just shelf her like they could with Belle, because she's popular. And shippable, which is the very fuel that keeps IDW alive nowadays. So, well, they do to her what fans love to do with Shadow: squeeze the trauma out of her like a lemon, so that she can cry (yay angst!) and bond over and over again with Tangle (yay ship!).

Same goes for Tangle, even though she was by Flynn's own admission created as a replacement for Blaze and to basically be a "not like the other Sonic girls" flex lol. She used to be cute and a genuine friend. Now she's a grating womanchild with the sensitivity of a rotten pepper, but hey, as long as she keeps hugging Whisper, no one will complain! They both deserved better.

[a-lockman5]

Things were different now Pt. 2 - 2AM Toast {Devi x Paxton}

A/N: Ayyyy so I just felt the creative juices flowing and wanted to whip this out before they went away again. I had a blast writing this. I kept trying to proofread it but got caught up in the story again (Whoops!), so if I missed some typos, apologies. Also, I don’t own these characters (obviously), but I do love them. 

Warnings: more fluff/angst, blood/injury - NO SELF HARM, scared Paxton is cute

Here is part 1 if you haven’t read it yet!

Take a look at my MASTERLIST for more to read or inspo for requests :)

“Paxton?”

Holy shit. Paxton jumped six feet in the air at the sound of her voice. It was two o’clock in the morning. Why was anyone up? Why was Devi Vishwakumar in his house?

“Devi, what the hell?” he panted, still catching his breath from the scare she’d given him. “What are you doing?”

“I was getting a soda from the garage,” she replied, eyes wide. “I thought you were on a college visit this weekend.”

“Tomorrow. Dad and I are driving up tomorrow. What are you doing in my house?”

“Becca invited me over.” He could tell she was still tense, her eyes staring directly into his. “I didn’t think you were here.”

They’d hardly spoken since she and Gross started dating. She tried to apologize a few weeks ago when Rebecca invited her over for dinner. Paxton acted like it was fine. Why wouldn’t it be? They were just friends. Sure, they’d kissed after the party that one night, but it wasn’t like she owed him anything. Besides, he was the one that blew her off at school two days later. She didn’t owe him anything, and he knew that. And besides that, she and Gross made sense. They were both way smart and in the same class and could challenge each other intellectually and her friends seemed to like him and… he was rambling internally. The point was, he and Devi agreed they were friends and things wouldn’t be weird. And now, almost a month later, they were talking in his hallway at 2AM, and it was definitely weird.

“Cool,” he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Becca told me you were helping her with more stuff for her portfolio. I guess that photographer didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“What?”

He shook his head slightly as his cheeks heated up. “Sorry, I just meant that he kept wanting you to stop posing, but here you are booking another gig. You’re like a real model, and I just… I don’t know.”

She laughed then. He was so embarrassed, but still couldn’t help smiling into his chest. It was her laugh that helped him be brave. “Look, Devi, we agreed things wouldn’t be awkward between us, but things feel pretty weird right now. Can we just let it go and be cool?”

Her eyes widened again and she gave him a tight lipped smile. “Yeah, definitely. I just didn’t expect” –

“To see me in the middle of the night in my own house?” he smirked.

She nodded and continued, “in your underwear with a…” she gestured wildly below his waist with her eyes closed tightly.

Paxton felt the color drain from his face. He’d been half asleep when he got up to go to the bathroom. Had he really not noticed? His hands instinctively covered his privates, though they weren’t feeling so private right now, and sure enough, there was some definite tenting going on. His eyes screwed shut, and he felt himself stumbling backward a few paces before turning his back on Devi entirely.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t… Shit. I need to go.”

He made a beeline for the bathroom and didn’t look back at her again. He slammed the door in a rush to escape the mortification he was experiencing and found himself crying out in pain. He’d shut his GD finger in the door. Jerking it out as fast as he could, he pressed the door closed with his back leant against it.

His head dropped, and a sigh escaped him. As he reached a hand up to push his hair out of his face, he almost missed the flash of red. “Goddammit!” he whispered furiously. His nail must have ripped off when he closed it in the door. Shit, did it hurt now that he was looking at it. Paxton turned to the sink and ran his finger under lukewarm water before forcing himself to put soap on it. He winced a little as it burned, but it was no where close to the painfully embarrassing encounter he’d just had with Devi. He looked down at his boxers at the reminder. Nothing like mutilating his ego and his hand to regulate his hormones – his erection had disappeared.  He sighed again.

Why did he have to run into her? Why like that? Why did he just have to lose every shred of dignity he had left? Things were not like this for Paxton. He was Paxton Hall-Yoshida for goodness sake! Paxton H.Y. did not get nervous around girls. They got nervous around him! But Devi… he never got nervous around her before Gross’s party. Not like he had tonight. He was too cool to be nervous. He was good at being cool. What the hell happened?

“It doesn’t matter,” he told himself. He just needed to dress his finger so that he didn’t get blood everywhere. After rummaging through the cupboards one-handed for a few minutes, he remembered the first aid kit was in the garage from his biking accident a few months ago.

The coast was obviously clear, he knew that. He’d been in the bathroom far longer than intended, so there was no way he would cross paths with Devi again. Still, Paxton took a deep breath before nervously poking his head out the door. Sure enough, the hall was empty. Another deep breath, this time in relief, and he padded down the hallway to the garage. When he flipped the light on, his nightmare continued.

There was she was sitting on the couch –  the couch they had sat on when they first met and she wanted him to… do something with her that she definitely didn’t want anymore. Her head whipped around to look at him, and her mouth fell open. Paxton pressed his head against the doorframe in defeat.

“Devi, why are you still out here?”

“I was just trying to…” she trailed off, but Paxton could tell by the look on her face that their encounter had affected her as much as it had him. He didn’t need to hear her say it.

“Alright, just let me put some shorts on.” At least the laundry room was right off the garage. He started to climb into a pair of basketball shorts while keeping his right hand aloft with toilet paper wrapped around his middle finger.

“Holy shit, what happened to your hand? Did you do it on purpose? Did you bite the nail down until it bled? Is it some side effect of the ‘roids you’re taking for swimming?”

Paxton jumped in surprise at being scared by Devi’s presence in the middle of the night... in his house... for the third time. This time, as he was off-balance, he immediately got tangled in his shorts and ended up on his side against the cold tile floor. He wanted to cry, he thought as he laid there. Why had this night turned into such a terror? Was he actually dreaming? Was he going to wake up and Devi would be asleep at her own house, in her own bed, and he the same? He would pray to a million gods to make that happen.

“Devi, why are you doing this to me?”

“I wasn’t trying to” – she broke off. “Here, come on, I got you.”

She steadied him at the elbow as he leaned on her to stand. She continued to let him lean on her as he finished donning his shorts with his affected arm out of harms way. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“Sorry, I asked about steroids. I know you don’t.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know that,” she nodded. “Sorry for scaring you too… What did you do to your hand though?”

Paxton exhaled in a huff. “I shut it in the bathroom door.”

“Oh good! When you yelled, I thought you racked yourself or something.” Devi sighed in relief. Paxton’s eyes narrowed in a glare at her. “Sorry. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“It’s in the garage,” he laughed despite himself.

“Ah. Yeah, that makes sense. Well, come on.”

She led him back into the garage and over to the couch. He sat down at her instruction. “Devi, you don’t have to” –

“Shut up. You can’t dress it with one hand. Besides, I’ve watched so many medical YouTube channels, it’ll be fun,” she said, plopping down next to him. “Come on, give it here.”

He knew there was no use arguing with her and let her pull his hand out of his lap. He took his time looking over her as she worked on him. He’d always thought she was objectively pretty from the moment they’d met, but he didn’t know he’d end up here, thinking about how cute she was. She was careful and focused as she peeled the toilet paper away, knowing it had started to dry and stick to his wound. She whispered a quiet apology when he hissed in pain, but never took her eyes off her work. She cleaned it, applied antibiotic ointment, wrapped it up in gauge, and secured it with tape. At some point, he found himself staring at her lips, thinking about how desperately he wanted to kiss her again – how desperately he wished she wanted to kiss him.

“There, finished!” She beamed at him. It was almost enough to jerk him free of his fantasy. Almost.

“Thanks,” he smiled lazily at her.

“For sure, I owe you for all the times you rescued me.”

“Yeah, ignoring that it’s your fault I got hurt,” he smirked at her.

“What? How do you figure?”

“If you weren’t wandering the house in the middle of the night” –

“I wouldn’t have seen your pork sword through your boxers.”

“Devi, what the hell?” he looked wildly at her. “Where do you even come up with this stuff?”

“People say that,” she shrugged.

“No, Devi, they really don’t,” he shook his head and started laughing. After a moment, she laughed too, and for that moment, things were good. “God, how did you do this to me?”

That sobered her immediately. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I used to be the coolest guy in school. I’ve been going to prom since middle school. My friend’s mom hits on me. How did you make me the guy that injures himself trying to escape an embarrassing situation? That used to be your thing!”

“Paxton…”

“It’s kind of funny, ya know? The first time we were ever in here, you ran away after I took my shirt off,” he continued, unable to stop himself. “I may not be an honor student, but I do realize now that your mom does not have polio.” He saw a hint of a smile on her face and felt himself smile back. “And now, look at us: sitting on the couch together, legs touching,” he accentuated his point by bumping his knee against hers, “I’m shirtless and you’re not scared of me anymore, but…”

“But what?” she asked after a moment.

I’m so scared of you. He blinked, pushing the thought away before he could stick his foot in his mouth. “But we don’t get to act on it. We’ve come so far since we first met, but we don’t get to talk to each other like we used to… I miss talking to you.”

“I miss talking to you too.” He thought she sounded genuine. She was the only person, outside of his family, he’d ever felt comfortable opening up to. Now that she was dating Ben Gross, he didn’t get to have that anymore? Why?

“Look, I think we can agree tonight has been super weird, but you don’t need to only come over when you think I’m not here.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, I know we said that before, but I mean it. I want to be your friend, Devi. I like you, I like hanging out with you. Can we make that work?”

It felt like hours passed while she looked at him silently. He could practically hear her thoughts pinging around in her head at a million miles a minute, but he had no idea what to expect. She was quiet for so long, he began to think she would say no. No, they couldn’t be friends. It wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Things were going to be weird between them, and there was no way around it. Paxton would have to just go on shutting his hands in doors and tripping over his gym shorts until he could move on from her – that was the only acceptable way to handle their situation. Then he saw it; he wasn’t sure if it was compassion, pity, or something else that made her eyes warm to his, but he knew he liked the way she looked at him in that moment.

“Of course, we can. I like hanging out with you too. Here,” she scrambled up off the couch and went to the refrigerator they had in the garage. She pulled out a diet mountain dew and a cherry coke zero, handing the latter to him.

“How did you…?” he stared at the soda can. His parents bought a variety of sodas, they and Becca both enjoyed having choices. The cherry coke zero was his and his only. He didn’t drink soda often, but when he did, he needed something with more flavor than a diet soda, but that wasn’t as sweet as a regular cola.

“Becca told me I could drink whatever I wanted except that. If it was hers, she’d let me have it or would have at least had some herself. Your dad was drinking a mountain dew when I got here, and your mom had a sprite when I was over for dinner a few weeks ago. It only made sense that it was left for you.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re smart, Vishwakumar?”

“Actually, no,” she pondered the question before flipping her hair over her shoulder and winking at him, “everyone else says I’m a genius.”

For the first time that night, he smiled a real, big smile. She mirrored his actions, and he felt warm everywhere. When she reached across the space between them, his breath caught in his throat.  She popped the tab on his soda, and he felt a shaky breath escape him. “What are you doing?”

“Paxton Hall-Yoshida, we are toasting,” she replied, popping the tab on her own can.

“Why?”

“This is a new chapter in our lives, in our friendship, and we need to make it official.”

You are something special, Devi, he thought with a grin. “Okay, I’m in. What should we toast to?”

“Umm… how about no more injuries?”

“No more avoiding each other in the hallways?”

“Or each other’s gaze during history.”

“To not keeping it a secret when you’re hanging out with my sister”

– “and not scaring each other in the middle of the night with your pocket rocket at full salute.”

He snorted. “To literally never bringing that up ever again, especially not with any of those phrases.”

“Cheers!” she laughed, clinking her can against his. They both took drinks of their soda, and fell quiet again for a moment. For the first time since they’d kissed, it felt comfortable again though. There had been a very real shift in the energy between them. They could make friends work. They could spend time together. Was it going to help him move on? Certainly not. Was it going to help him cope? It was worth a try.

“There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” she said quietly. After their entire experience tonight, somehow she found a way to be nervous again.

“Shoot your shot, Lil D.”

“I want to go swimming. Will you help me?”

<< Part 1, Part 3>>

[sadienita]

As Sure As Fate - Part 4

Han Dong x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Riencanration

Contents: Implied Character Death

Notes: Okay I- uh- @flyingsculptures I’m so sorry this was meant to be a b i r t h d a y g i f t and this part got S A D. It’s I mean it’s also hands down my fav part (and mayhaps I was asking you about favourite parts of history for a reason uwu) but also the ending is sad and I’m S O R R Y I made myself cry while editing it oh god I hope you like it even though it might rip your heart out but there’s also so many cute moments and also the last part is happy I p r o m i s e.

1910 - Kansas City, USA

The fourth time I met you, I was blessed to have so much more of a lifetime with you. More than ever before we were drawn together, tied closely by fate. I knew from the beginning you were someone special.

You didn’t listen closely to what your mom was saying, instead taking in the girl in front of you, the same age as you. Her clothes were grass stained and her hair was messy and she had dirt smudged on her cheek and you thought she had to be the coolest girl in the whole wide world.

“I’m Hannie,” she chimed, shaking your hand the way grown ups did, a bright smile on her face.

You grinned, grasping her hand and telling her your name. She giggled and started to pull you towards the door. You heard your mom screeching after you not to get your dress dirty but you didn’t care too much about that as you raced into the yard with your new neighbor.

“We’re going to be the best of friends! I can tell!”

To grow together, like two trees planted too close, we entwined with each other.

“Hannie, are you sure about this?” you cried, gazing up at where she sat at the top of the hill.

“It’ll be fine!” she said brightly, pulling down her old goggles.

“Be careful!” you shouted. Nerves curled in your stomach as she steadied her makeshift cart at the top of the hill. You thought Hannie was too brave for her own good. She had been since the day you met her. Your mom didn’t like that she made you more reckless and that you messed up your clothes so much but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d want to spend your summer days with.

Even if she worried you at moments like this.

Hannie used the stick in her hand to push off and let out a screech as she flew down the hill very quickly. You clasped your hands together as you watched her, thrilled and frightened all at once.

Her cart shook and as she hit a bump at the bottom of the hill the wheel flew off and Hannie let out a scream as she flew out of the cart and landed in the grass. You let out a gasp as you ran to her. Hannie lay sprawled out on the grass, letting out a groan and a hand finding her head.

“Are you okay?! Hannie, are you okay!?”

She let out another groan, squeezing her eyes shut.

You fussed over her, wiping dirt off her clothes and finding the cut on her knee, bleeding.

“I told you it was dangerous,” you whined, pressing the underpart of your skirt against her knee to stop the bleeding. “You need to be more careful. One of these days you might-”

You cut off as Hannie gripped your wrist. When you looked at her she was giving you a weak smile and it made butterflies flutter in your stomach in a way you were sure you’d never felt before and yet felt so familiar.

“I don’t need to be careful with you around,” she laughed. “You’ll always make sure I’m okay.”

“I-I-” you softened a bit. “Just- don’t do anything too crazy, okay?”

She squeezed your wrist.

“Okay.”

Our roots were tangled around each other far more than we realized. And as we grew towards the sky, we were side by side.

There was something very comforting about having Hannie’s hand in yours. Something about her eased your mind, it calmed you. The world felt like it was in turmoil, like everything had spun out of control in the last five years. You could barely make sense of any of it, barely wrap your head around the lives lost to war and then to the flu.

The night wind blew through your hair and rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. The sky above spanned on forever and was littered with stars, twinkling down at you as if nothing had ever been turned upside down.

Your head fell to the side and you took in the sight of Hannie, the feeling in your chest all too familiar now. Her pretty features were lit in moonlight as she gazed up at the sky, wonder and anticipation in her eyes as she took in what was so far away from you. Her dreams were so lofty, though her spirits had been dampened by the war. You had both grown up too much.

“When you look up at the sky,” she mused. “Do you ever just want to reach out and touch it?”

You spared a glance at the stars. “Wouldn’t that take me too far away?”

She tilted her head to look at you, something unreadable in her eyes. “From here? Is there that much here for you?”

“There’s you,” you didn’t think about the words before you said them, and they hung in the warm night air between you. Hannie’s eyes stayed on you and you felt nerves claw at your stomach, wishing to suck the words back inside.

“You don’t wanna leave just because of me?”

You rolled onto your side, heart slipping into your stomach. “Well, you’re my best friend after all. Why would I want to go anywhere without you?” Why was your heart pounding?

A grin tugged at Hannie’s lips. “Who said I wouldn’t come with you?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words as she rolled onto her side to face you. “You know I wanna fly one day? I wanna be a pilot, soaring through the air.”

“Hannie-” you whined but she hushed you with a finger pressed to your lips. 

“But,” she said. “No matter how high I go, I’m always going to come back down to you. You know that right?”

You couldn’t seem to find any words, only nodding as you desperately wished your heart would stop beating so loud. Surely she could hear it. She squeezed your hand and smiled more widly at you, a giggle escaping her lips.

“I don’t think I want to be away from you for too long anyway,” she said. “I like you too much.”

“I like you, too,” you whispered.

Did she mean it the same way you did?

Together we weathered storms. The wind howling, rain pelting against us. But with a strong enough foundation we were never uprooted. And we only entwined closer with each other.

“Don’t you hate this?” Hannie grumbled as you cleaned out the horses stalls.

“We all have help out, Hannie,” you sighed. “Besides, you hate housework.”

“No, I mean,” she put her shovel down. “Don’t you want to move to the city? It’s so much brighter. They’re more forward thinking there, you know.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But life out here isn’t so bad.” You always got nervous when Hannie talked about leaving. She did it more and more these days. You knew she had dreams and you desperately wanted to go with her, to be by her side as she chased after them, to keep her hand in yours. As you got older though, there was all the more pressure to marry, all the more pressure to grow up even more and you worried that her ideas were too fanciful, not to mention her parents hated the idea of her in an airplane.

You weren’t too keen on it either.

“There’s a flying school in the city,” she said quietly.

“Hannie, are you really gonna leave one day?” you wanted to believe she would never leave you behind, but something deep inside made you nervous that she might.

“I have to,” she said. “I can’t live like this forever. This isn’t the life I want.”

You chewed on your lip as you mulled over her words. “What will become of us?”

“Come with me,” her answer was swift and you met her excitement with bewilderment.

“Hannie!” you chided. “We can’t just leave!”

“We can do what we want,” she retorted. “We’re all grown up. And we can give them time to hire farmhands. But we could have our own lives!”

“Do you really think it could work?” you asked nervously.

“With you by my side, I reckon anything is possible,” she smiled.

Like the roots of a tree, our hearts had grown closer than either of us thought to admit. But no matter how bold you could be, some things were difficult to say.

You pressed the envelope closed, a smile playing on your lips. You made more in the city than you had helping out around the farm, and it felt good to send a little bit home, to help out. You thought being far away from your family would be difficult, yet you never really felt like you were far away from home. You felt more comfortable with Hannie than you ever had living at home.

Still, after all these years, she comforted you. She made you happy and filled you with feelings you couldn’t name.

Or perhaps they just scared you.

The door burst open and you jumped, breaking out of your mind’s meanderings. Hannie had a bright smile on her face and she was panting slightly, her hair a mess as she held a paper tightly in her hand.

“I got in!”

It took a moment for your mind to catch up but as it settled in that she had been accepted to flying school a smile spread across your face. Her excitement was infectious and her giggles spread to you as she raced towards you and into a tight hug, squeezing you and squealing from delight in a way that made your heart soar.

She pulled back too quickly and her hands found the sides of your face. Your brain had no time to react before her lips crashed against yours.

Your heart felt like it was exploding as you gripped the front of her shirt. Your brain seemed to short circuit as your head spun and all you could do was hold onto her for dear life until she pulled back to look at you.

Her face was flushed red and her chest was heaving. You let go of each other at the same time as the reality started to settle in and you felt heat burning at your own cheeks, your brain unable to form any sort of thought in response, unable to say what you really wanted to say to her.

“I-I need to-”

“Yes, I have to-”

“I-m going to-”

“Y-Yes me too!”

Words stumbled out of both of you as you grabbed your things and made for the door to mail your letters while Hannie made for her room.

Some things were still left unsaid, hanging around us like fireflies on an early summer evening. They blinked in and out of sight but remained. The words nearly left your lips on breaths so many times, always stuck to your tongue.

You heard your name being called excitedly and you put down your knitting as Hannie rushed into your room.

“Did you see the news?!”

“About?” you chuckled.

“Earhart, of course!” You shook your head and Hannie gasped, dropping down into the chair next to you. “She just flew across the atlantic!”

“Wait, really?!” you grabbed the paper from her and hurriedly read the story, a gasp leaving your lips. 

“She’s really out there setting records, flying around the world,” Hannie sighed. “Isn’t that just the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard. What can’t a woman do these days?!”

“It’s so impressive,” you hummed. “You know they’re gonna have to put your name in the papers like that one day.”

She gave you a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Gosh I hope so! I want to do something amazing. Being in the sky is just… It’s one of the best feelings there is.”

“Not the best?” you asked. “I have half a mind to think flying is your true love.”

“There are things better than flying,” her voice was much softer as she spoke, much shier.

You softened your voice to match hers, sincerity seeping into your tone. “What’s better than flying?”

“Oh gosh, we should start dinner shouldn’t we?” Hannie jumped up from her seat and you watched her rush into the kitchen, wondering if you would ever say the words that were stuck to your tongue.

So much time. So many more precious seconds with each other. But what was our destiny?

You squeezed Hannie’s fingers in yours as you sat on the train with her.

“Are you excited or nervous?” you asked her quietly.

“Both,” she stated, though sounding more of the latter.

“You know you’ll do great though. I think you’ve talked me through your plan about a thousand times.”

Your words made Hannie giggle and you were grateful for that. She had been preparing for months now for a solo flight to the tip of South America and back, over the gulf and the Caribbean islands. You would be beyond terrified so the fact that she was only a little nervous a few days before the flight was a testament to her bravery and willpower.

“You’re right,” she said. “I know you’re right.”

“Hannie,” you turned to her when her eyes met yours, you could see the fear deep inside her. You grasped her other hand and squeezed them both tight. “You’re going to be amazing. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“You think so?”

You grinned. “I know so.”

Was it always to split apart?

It was something else entirely to see Hannie all dressed up in her pilot gear. Her face was steeled as she went over things and checked the airplane and you stood a bit away from her on the runway. This was one adventure you would have to watch from afar. It killed you to know she would be so far, doing something so dangerous, but there was a fire in her eyes that you knew burned so deeply.

This was freeing and exciting. This was her dream. You reminded yourself that when she got home you could celebrate, you would see her name in the papers. You believed in her so deeply and if nothing else, that eased your mind. If anyone could do this, it was Hannie.

There was a thought that made your heart melt, that she had listed you as family. You were staying close to her take off place for the planned four days of her journey, though perhaps six if things went poorly. You stuffed your hand into your jacket pocket and your fingers brushed against cool metal.

An “oh” fell off your lips as you wrapped your fingers around it and raced towards Hannie, not heeding any warnings called out at you. She looked up at you bewildered as you flew towards her, face flushing red and catching you as you made it to her, panting.

“What on earth-”

“I almost forgot!” you wheezed, pulling the locket from your pocket. “So you can keep me with you, even in the air.”

Hannie took to locket gently, eyes welling with tears as she smoothed her thumb over the jewelry. She had no words when she looked at you, unable to form her thoughts she threw her arms around you in a tight hug which you returned, burying your face against her.

“I love you,” the words were so quiet you almost missed them but they made your heart leap, ringing in your head and playing on repeat as you hugged her tighter, very sure what she meant by them.

“I love you, too.”

To lose each other?

Today was the final day of her journey. Each one made you more nervous and more excited. You desperately wanted her back by your side and you missed her dearly. Something about this morning, though, had made you lethargic. You were slow to get out of bed and you felt chilled as you prepared yourself.

You reminded yourself it was fine to be nervous about today, it was the longest stretch of time she would be in the air and it was the last day. You should be more excited, more optimistic, but as you headed out to get updates and prepare for her landing something felt cold, something chilled you in a way you couldn’t explain.

Contrary to your worries though, everything was running smoothly when you arrived. They informed you she had just shown up on the radar and she would be getting within radio distance very soon. You sat as patiently as you could, fingers trembling as you tried to knit and distract yourself, sparing worried glances at the clouds outside.

“...do…h... me...ver” the radio crackled to life and all heads in the room snapped towards it. “D… you he… me, over.”

You jumped to your feet, unsure what you were going to do as they rushed to communicate with her.

“This is district 7. Do you copy? Over.”

“I co...ver,” the way her voice broke up had your stomach twisting into knots. “My visibility...bad, over.”

“Keep your course steady. Do you copy? Over.”

“I… py. Over.”

You wanted to yell to her to be careful, you were filled with more and more dread in every moment but you knew distracting her wouldn’t help. She was almost home and you should relax. As they started to speak more technically you sat back down, fingers shaking too much to knit. You gazed out at the overcast sky, growing darker and darker even in the afternoon.

The moments seemed to tick by, dragging on very slowly in a torturous crawl. You just wanted her to be home, to be safe. She passed landmarks and you listened anxiously as the hours very slowly slipped past.

“You’re drifting off course, over.” The words caught your attention and you looked up to where the men stood around the controls.

“I’m on track, over.”

He tutted. “You’re drifting east, you need to turn due northwest, over.”

“My instruments say I’m on track, over.” There was a pause. “Dammit.”

“Han, are you okay? Over.”

“Something’s not… over.”

Your chest felt tight as you gripped the skirt of your dress in your hands. 

“Han, what’s wrong? Over.” The room had grown tense as everyone listened for her answers.

“I… get… ...It’s no… dam…”

The radio went dead.

The room jumped into activity. Two of the workers grabbed you and ushered you out of the room as you struggled against them, straining to hear the last few things they said before the door swung shut.

“She’s still veering off course.”

“She won’t make it if she keeps going that way.” 

“Radio for a crew to be sent out.”

The door swung shut as they dragged you down the hall.

To wonder “is this the last time?”

The sun sunk lower in the sky as you clasped your hands together, hoping and praying for a miracle. You had gotten no news about the planes sent out to find her, but you knew she wasn’t back yet. You were listening for the roar of her engines and yet, nothing.

That cold feeling was seeping into you more and more by the minute. Could you really lose her now? Could she really, now, in this hour, be ripped away from you?

This hurt too much. It felt like losing everything, like you had lost her before somehow. You didn’t know how but this felt dreadfully familiar and that gave you no comfort as you wrapped yourself in closer, shivering.

An icy feeling rushed through you and you gasped as pain hit your chest. Tears filling your eyes as your knuckles gripped your shawl. You shook horribly until the feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and you broke down into sobs.

They would never find her, you knew it plain as day.

And you never got to say goodbye.

How many times did I need to lose you before I could finally be with you?

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 71b

“Calm down.” She spoke quietly, “I like to think this time, your mum will be ok.”

"I never had you down as stupid!" Peter remarked sarcastically.

“Hey!!” She frowned. “Don’t you dare call me stupid, Peter!”

Peter sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just..." He shrugged.

“You’re scared.” She rubbed his arm, “But your mum’s probably just as scared.”

"Well she should have been more sensible then." Peter huffed.

“That’s not fair. How do you know it wasn’t a one time accident?”

"Coz she and dad are both nurses and it ain't like this hasn't happened before."

“If your mum is pregnant, you’re going to have to deal with it.”

"If she is I'm leaving home."

Sarah laughed, “And go where? All because she’s pregnant? She needs your support Peter! So does your dad.”

"Not sure yet. Fancy seeing if we can get a flat?"

“We’ll be going to uni soon? Unless you don’t want to anymore?” Sarah said quietly.

"Well I guess it all depends on how things turn out." Peter replied darkly.

“What do you mean?”

"I don't see dad being able to cope on his own do you?"

“You think this will kill your mum this time?” Sarah asked sadly.

"You didn't see her after last time."

Sarah sighed sadly but didn’t say anything.

Lottie nudged Louis accidentally as she ran past him. He waited til she was close again and shoved her hard.

She landed on the floor on all fours. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, brushed herself down and full on kicked Louis in his privates. “Don’t bully me!” She was a tough little thing.

"Little bitch!" He screamed as he went down.

Tilly saw what was happening and dived in. No-one picked on her younger twin! Tilly kicked him. “You don’t hurt my sister!!” She yelled.

Lottie swung round and also took aim.

Duffy saw what was happening and ran over. "What the bloody hell..?"

“He pushed me over. So I kicked him in his willy. And he called me a bitch.”

“That’s because she is a little bitch!” Louis muttered back.

“No one hurts my sisters!” Tilly replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"Right, you two," She indicated the twins. "With me. Charlie, deal with Louis please."

Charlie sighed, “OK.”

The twins followed their mum, holding each other’s hand.

"Are you OK?" Duffy asked Lottie, throwing a filthy look in Louis' direction. "You really shouldn't have got involved Tilly."

“Nobody hurts my sisters!” Tilly declared, “And not my little twin!”

Lottie nodded, “Sore knees though.”

"I know Tilly but Lottie can fight her own battles. Its not very fair if both of you pile in."

“She’s my sister.” Tilly pouted, “We twins.”

"I know." Duffy smiled, tweeking her daughter's nose.

"I hate Louis." Lottie declared.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." Duffy replied weakly.

“He did.” Lottie insisted, “He don’t like us.”

"Why wouldn't he like you."

Lottie shrugged, “He’s always mean. To all of us.” She sighed.

"Just you girls or Oliver too?"

“Oliver too.” She said quietly as her bottom lip began to wobble.

"Oh sweetheart, is there something you want to tell mummy?" Duffy asked, crouching down and wrapping her arm around Lottie.

Lottie shook her head but buried her head into her mum’s shoulder and began to cry.

"I'll speak to daddy about Louis OK?" Duffy told Lottie as she stroked the youngster's back. Once she'd managed to calm Lottie down Duffy headed over to speak to Charlie. "A word." She whispered harshly.

“Yes?” He looked up and moved away from Louis for a second.

"Your son has been bullying the girls and Oli, what you going to do about it?" She demanded.

“I don’t know.” He admitted and sighed.

"This can't continue."

“I know it can’t.”

"So what are you going to do? I really don't need this right now!"

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do!”

"He can't start fights like that." She sighed, running her hand through her hair, her other one resting against her lower back.

“I know, I know he can’t.”

She quickly moved her hand as she caught Peter staring at her again out the corner of her eye.

Peter rolled his eyes. Bloody brilliant! So she /was/ pregnant.

"Peter." Sarah sighed softly.

"Yeh, OK."

Peter placed his hand in Sarah’s and they headed outside.

Jake ran over to his parents. "Come look at this, it's the coolest thing ever!"

“What?” Charlie asked as he was practically dragged away along with Duffy.

Duffy got her feet tangled and almost stumbled as she tried to keep up.

“What’s cool?” Charlie asked.

"This!" Jake declared. It was an artwork of his favourite computer character. "I thought art was just all boring old stuff."

“That’s amazing! Do you know who drew it?” Charlie asked Jake curiously.

"Emmy will probably know." Duffy pointed out.

Jake went to find Emily, “Emmy, Em!” He called.

"You ok Jake?" She asked.

“Who did this?” He took her back to the art work he was mesmerised with.

"That's Jamie's work." Emily smiled shyly.

“Who’s Jamie? It’s really good! Almost as good as yours Em. But yours is better!” Jake replied as he hugged his sister.

Emily blushed. She nervously pointed to a boy roughly the same age as her brother with blonde spiky hair. "That's him." She whispered.

“Cheers Em!”

"That's OK." She shrugged. "If he's nice to you can you tell him that you're my brother?" She added nervously.

“He’s mean to you?” Jake frowned.

"No. I don't think he even realises I exist." She sighed.

He smiled, “You’re too young to be focusing on boys, Em.”

"You sound like dad!" She complained.

Jake chuckled, “Sorry Em.”

"Jake..?" She asked tentatively.

“Yes Em?”

"Is Louis OK?"

“Yes I think so.”

"Oh, OK." She shrugged before leaving Jake to chat to Jamie.

An hour or so later it was approaching the end of the exhibition. The students were gathered together as there were some presentations to be made.

Emily began to rub her stomach. She was nervous. She got more and more disheartened as the reached the last few presentations.

Until her name was announced...

She looked with bewilderment at her parents.

Charlie and Duffy grinned at their daughter and encouraged her to go up on the stage.

Emily headed nervously to the stage.

She was given an award, for the best newcomer. Basically, everyone thought she was amazing at art and had given her an award to reflect that.

She blushed but was grinning from ear to ear.

The Fairhead family clapped the loudest.

Emily was still grinning when they got back to their cars.

Charlie caught Emily’s eye in the rear view mirror. She was so happy!

In Duffy's car Jake was talking animatedly about his new friend Jamie who had all the best computer games. Duffy and Sarah couldn't help but giggle at his exuberance. Peter, however, was still in a mood which made the atmosphere for the ride home somewhat tense.

Charlie made a mental note to check in on him when they got back.

Once home Duffy threw herself into cracking on with various chores in an attempt to put off the impending discussion with the kids.

Charlie gestured for Peter to join him in the garden.

Peter reluctantly followed his father outside.

“You’ve had a face on you all day, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked Peter as they sat down on the bench.

"You promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore."

Charlie sighed, “I’m not lying to you.” He paused. “You know your mum’s pregnant, don’t you?”

"Yeh. I knew something was going on for a while but I didn't think you were stupid enough to let something like that happen again so I'd been wracking my brain trying to work it out."

“That makes both of us then because I’ve been doing exactly the same.”

"What do you mean?"

“I should’ve been more careful. If your mum dies, none of you will ever forgive me. Will you?”

Peter rolled his eyes. "You really need to stop the whole 'it's all my fault, your mum is just an innocent little flower in all of this...' thing dad."

Charlie met Peter's eye, “You don’t blame me?”

"I do a bit but it's obvious mum's got you wrapped round her little finger and you just give in to what she wants."

“That’s because have you ever been on the receiving end of that redhead temper of hers?”

"I'm not scared of that anymore." Peter retorted. "She can scream and rant and rage all she wants, I ain't listening." He added with the cockiness only a teenager could possess.

Charlie laughed, “Well as much as I love your mum, her redhead temper terrifies me.”

Peter was quiet for a while. "So were you planning to tell us or just gunna let us work it out for ourselves?"

“Your mum wanted to wait until she was twenty weeks.” Charlie smiled, “But we were going to sit you all down tonight and tell you.”

"What made you change your mind? Coz it was becoming obvious?"

“I knew some of you wouldn’t be happy about the situation.”

"So you decided not to tell us? Were you planning to just bring the baby home from the hospital one day and hope we didn't ask too many questions?" Peter retorted sarcastically.

“No of course not.” Charlie shook his head. “We were going to tell you when your mum was twenty weeks but I thought it was too late.”

"Coz she's already struggling to hide it and she's nowhere near that stage yet?"

“Because I knew none of you would be happy with the situation and that you’d have a few more months to deal with your emotions around your mum’s pregnancy!”

"Does she seriously have some kind of deathwish?"

“Your mum’s chasing the perfect scenario.” Charlie shrugged. “Could call it a death wish, I suppose.”

[lovemariannexox]

Letters on the walls

A short story by Marianne

“Whabb are you doin?” The girl asked her sister with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

“The damn creatures buried their way into my foot again so I’m tryna get them out”. She answered. The girl watched her sister wearily.

“Wibb a pair of scisthors?” 

“Yeah they were the closest thing I could-” she finally managed to extract the creature from its root in her foot. The sister gasped at the size of the wriggling black parasite. It writhed in her grasp, splattering blood all over the wooden floor. The girl felt bile rising to her throat. She averted her eyes from that side of the bathroom, spat the most of the minty foam into the sink, replaced her toothbrush, and hurried out the door. 

Her room was the most cluttered, colourful place you could find in the house. Tapestries embroidered with intricate mandala patterns, deep purples and many shades of blue, lined the walls. Every space was accounted for, if not by a tapestry then by a poster depicting planetary alignments, a calendar, red with sweeping golden characters or a painting from centuries passed or years to come. Persian rugs of different shapes and sizes were scattered about the place. Most on the floor, but some were draped over furniture too. The patterns on these carpets were geometric, the fabric mostly red. The furniture in the room seemed to be arranged haphazardly. Most surfaces were hidden under piles of books, figurines of elephants and snakes and ornaments.  Incense burned amongst sets of tubes, vials, and bottles both empty and filled with bizarre concoctions. One large bottle contained a goldfish, and in another grew a venus fly trap. From the ceiling hung numerous dream catchers that spun, wind chimes that chimed, and thousands of rustling charms: herbs, jade stones, and red mushrooms speckled with white dots hung in bags among miniature globes revolving around each other, suspended by an invisible force. Horns, dried flowers and clovers seemed to be stuck to the ceiling. And rings hung in chains like paper decor, some gold, some silver, and speckled with precious stones. 

The most occurring object in the girl’s room would have to be the candles. Each different from the next, but all were lit with a blue flame that wriggled and danced. Perhaps it was a miracle the room hadn’t been burnt to ruins. Perhaps it was magic.

The girl picked her way across the room to find her bed. She cosied herself into the middle, her back against the wall, and righted her posture. Her legs were crossed, her hands rested on her knees, and her palms faced the ceiling. She closed her eyes. 

In her left palm, a blue flame appeared. It danced excitedly, moving to the steady rhythm of the girl’s heartbeat. As she deepened her concentration, the flame slowed. 

If you looked carefully at the little flame, it looked like a being of its own kind. Its chest heaved in time with the girls. Slowly, but steadily, the dream catchers stopped their spinning, the wind chimes stopped their chiming, and the charms stopped their rustling. All except for one. 

In the corner, next to the beaded curtain that hid her bathing quarters from view, the tiniest bell was tinkling. The girl opened one eye to locate the sound. 

She smiled “Hello Minerva.”

The beaded curtain parted to reveal a girl, her face mostly obscured by a massive horned helmet, lying in the turquoise tiled bathtub. She steps briskly out of the bathtub removing her helmet which reveals a very squashed head of curls. She grins.

“Iris” she replies with a nod. Minerva takes a moment to drink in the details of the girl’s room. Her eyes sweep across the furniture and ceiling. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I have always wondered where you find your decorations.” she whizzes around the room giving herself a hasty tour. She peers into the vials, picks up various ornaments before replacing them, and flicks a couple of dream catchers out of her way as she goes along. 

The girl watches her quietly from her position on the bed.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it? I assume the rest of the house hasn’t changed since I was last here.” 

Minerva begins flipping through a book before moving on to the next and discarding that one too. A tapestry seems to catch her eye. “I remember this one! This must have been the first one you owned.” She fingers the stitching delicately, following the pattern round and round. “It still makes me dizzy.” She smiles. 

“I thought you were gone.” 

Minerva continues her rampage across the room, touching everything she sees and moving anything and everything capable of being moved. Her speech becomes more rapid. “Ahh! I used to love these globes. Aren’t they the coolest? I was so jealous and I wished I could have one. I like the horns, they remind me of my helmet see?” She lifts up her helmet and compares it with the horn on the ceiling, staring at the girl with a demented grin. 

“I thought you were gone for good.”

Minerva begins looking through the vials and tubes “You and your potions. I swear half of this is just homoeopathy.” She pauses and looks back at the girl. “You know I never really understood all your magic. Well, I guess that’s just me isn’t it? Can’t teach me anything.” She browses through an old cupboard her hand floating over one shelf. “I just need to grab a healing potion if you don’t mind.” She peers into each separate tube. Minerva’s hand stops above one containing an opal coloured liquid. “What’s this?” She extracts it carefully from its place on the shelf and peers into the tube. Her eyes widen. “I think we should try this one. Take a trip down memory lane. eh?” as she turns to look at the girl, a dagger flies through the air. The dagger pierces the tube and it shatters. The shards of glass fall to the ground and the dagger lands bang in the middle of one of the mandala patterns. 

“Bullseye” Minerva whispers.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” 

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?” Minerva replies plainly. She sighs and looks at the girl properly holding her gaze. She a glowing blue light coming from the right side of the girl’s chest. Minerva approaches the bed warily as if she’s not sure if she’s allowed to touch it or not. The girl provides no input, so slowly, she sits. She takes the girls hand in hers. “I’m sorry.” 

The girl tenses, screwing up her face. She lets out a heavy breath. The candles around her begin to stir. They wiggle about freely as if released from a spell. Then, each glob of flame detaches from each respective candlewick and begins to cross the room. Minerva watches enchanted as the globs evolve into little fire beings. They march in lines from all directions towards the bed, forming a sun-like pattern. They crawl up the furniture and leap onto the bed. The first fire being to meet Minerva hesitates. It looks up at the girl inquiringly. She gives it a nod and smiles, granting its permission. The fire being prods Minerva with an outstretched limb, she looks at it curiously. Seeing no ill effects, the fire being leaps onto her and the others quickly follow suit. Minerva laughs in surprise. “It tickles!” she exclaims wriggling around. The girl simply smiles, watching. Minerva begins to interact with the fire beings and they start to play with her. She tries to catch them but they run away from her, sliding down her tattooed skin. She laughs and laughs. The girl wipes away a tear, unnoticed. After a little while, the beings seem to be getting sleepy. Gathering them together, the girl tucks some of them into her clothes and pockets. She leaves the rest to Minerva who lets them find comfort where they please: on her shoulders, in her hair, in the nook behind her collar bone, on her stomach. The girl and Minerva lie next to each other. All is still except a few of the charms which rustle quietly. Eventually, when the girl falls asleep, all is silent. 

Minerva awakens the next morning to find herself alone with the girl. Their legs are tangled and the fire beings are gone. Minerva moves slowly, as to not wake the girl. Silently, she begins tracing her finger over the furniture, the walls, and the ceiling as if performing some kind of ritual memorised to the last detail. “Iris” she whispers. She then takes the opal coloured potion and places the helmet over her head. Minerva disappears from the girl’s room.

Later, the girl opens her eyes. She sits up abruptly. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, and she stares around her room astonished. Her sister comes into her room. “What is it?! What’s wrong?” she looks around perplexed. 

“Can’t you see it? The walls, the furniture…” the girl struggles to speak her voice catching in her throat. She rubs her eyes and looks again.

Minerva had written sonnets over everything. Poems, secrets shared between them, and lines and lines of dialogue, each from a different moment they had spent together. The writing could only be for her to see. The girl reads over everything hurriedly, suppressing a sob. She jumps up from her bed and begins tracing her finger over each word, crying tears of bittersweet joy and melancholy. Her sister stares in shock and then turns to head back the way she came. The girl doesn’t seem to notice. 

Minerva had written her letters on the walls, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them.

[collectorscorner]

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[funkzpiel]

An Anon!Writer sent this lovely piece below to me in regards to the scenario laid out in this post and this post, based off this Dark Creature!AU.

WARNING: Character Death/Suicide

ANON SAID:

So I’ve been thinking (and here’s an AU of an AU of an AU of an AU, because when I read that bit with Grindelwald burning, I might have jumped to some possibly wrong conclusions):

Maybe Newt gets to Graves. Maybe he pulls Graves away from Grindelwald’s influence and they go away somewhere they can be alone. It’s too late for Graves, Newt knows, but he hopes anyway. Graves would have put himself down on the spot if he remembered what he nearly did to his Aurors, but maybe – maybe he’ll stay for Newt even when he remembers what Grindelwald made him do. Maybe Newt is enough.

The moment Graves comes back to himself Newt is watching him, chasing away the aftereffects of the Change with heat, whispering in Graves’ ear that it wasn’t his fault while the man sobs his heart out in Newt’s lap. It was Grindelwald’s fault for setting Graves loose in a populated area. It was Newt’s fault for not being more careful with his dearest treasure.

“Be angry at me,” he says. “Hate me, but please, please believe it wasn’t you.”

Graves goes quiet and still. Newt catches his answer on the breeze.

“But it was me.”

And Newt knows what’s coming, but he hopes still that Graves will find it in himself to stay for a little longer. Is 40 more years so much to ask for? 40 years is nothing. Newt’s watched creatures pass him by. But Graves is heartsick, and Graves is (was) human, and Graves is a lawman who is too fond of his city and its inhabitants’ safety to be able to absolve himself of being used as a murder weapon.

Graves is hungry and Newt brings him apples picked fresh from the orchard. Graves needs water and Newt carries him to the clearest, coolest spring in hundred of kilometers. Graves gets sick and Newt searches three days before he finds a house in the middle of nowhere with medicine. He would do anything for Graves, as caught in mate-lust as he is, if Graves only asked – but Graves won’t.

Newt curls himself around Graves at night, willing himself warmer, pressing his nose between Graves’ shoulder blades, and he’s so scared he can’t stop shaking. He’s too late. He should have done more. He should have –

“Newt,” Graves says, turning over slowly so they’re facing each other. “Newt, what’s wrong?”

His voice is hoarse. He’s spent all day crying and his words are hardly a whisper. Newt can’t make himself answer honestly.

“You know I love you, don’t you, Percival?” He says instead. “I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And Graves lets himself be held.

Newt wants to believe he’s lucky this time. That just this once he can have his wish without paying for it up front. He holds Graves and he hopes this is the light at the end of the tunnel, but –

“I love you, Newton Scamander,” Graves says in the dark as Newt is falling asleep, their fingers tangled together. “God, but I love you.”

“Stay,” says Newt. “Please just stay.” But he’s tired and hope is a drug and he’s asleep before he hears Graves’ answer.

“I don’t think I can.”

In the morning, Graves is still and silent, and there’s an empty bottle of cough medicine in the bottom of the wastebasket, and Newt stops hoping. He was too late for Graves after all. In his chest, his reptilian heart burns down to cinders, and then ash, and then freezes entirely. Grindelwald took Percival from him. Grindelwald took his dearest treasure away and broke him.

It’s only fair if Newt returns the favor.

FUNKZPIEL SAID:

I WASN’T READY. I WASN’T READY FOR SO MANY FEELINGS. OH MY GOD. But seriously, this is fucking beautiful. My heart is devastated. How am I supposed to heal from this?! AU of an AU, yes, but what an interesting concept of how things might have ended up!

But also, imagine the reign of fucking vengeance Newt would bring down upon Grindelwald and his men.

One day, MACUSA stops even bothering to look for Grindelwald because his forces are all but decimated, his followers terrified and in hiding and desperate not to be identified because “He’s hunting us, he’ll find me, oh God - please don’t tell anyone. Take me away, arrest me. Anything. Just don’t let him find me.”

A number of followers just turn themselves in, eager for safe harbor behind the bars of MACUSA’s cells. They still die. Bitten by spiders or poisoned by strange fogs or strangled in the middle of the night. MACUSA launches a task force investigation.

Tina finds out it was Newt all along.

They’re standing atop a hill, the sun set a brilliant maw of orange and reds that make the sky look on fire. It seems fitting. Newt scoffs. He’d laugh if he could still feel his heart any more.

“Newt?” Tina asks, her voice a small tremor in the air between them. Desperate for it not to be him. He turns and breaks her heart.

“Tina.”

“Why Newt?” Tina asks. “Those things you did; those horrible, hideous things…”

She shivers beneath the dead weight of his stare. He’s smiling at her softly, kindly, like he once did - but Newt is gone. There’s no light behind his eyes. 

“Because they stole from me,” Newt says as simply as he might name the color of the sky. “My mate, my treasure, my heart…everything. And for that, I will not stop until every last one of them is dead.”

“Newt,” she breathes. “Killing them won’t bring him back. He wouldn’t have wanted this. He died because he didn’t believe in senseless death. He believed in justice.”

“He died,” Newt snarls suddenly, making her jump, making her heart still. “Because I wasn’t enough. And I will never fall short again. This? This is justice.”

He turns from her, his shadow a writhing thing that prepares to take him away. He can hear Aurors in the distance - back up ready to apprehend him. 

“Newt, please don’t do this!” Tina cries out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t,” Newt says. “No one can.”

He disappears.

Oh no… I made myself sad.