#fbawtft reader insert

[oreithyia0]

Love how you wrote him!! Would love to see more of this

Helping Hand | Credence Barebone x Reader

RATING: Teen | GENRE: Hurt/Comfort | 1,808 words SUMMARY: You offer to help Credence from his situation. [Read on AO3]

The first time you saw the almost painfully pitiful young man named Credence Barebone, it was like looking in a mirror of your past self. You saw it in his downcast eyes and bowed head. You saw it in his frown-marred lips and hunched shoulders. You were once the same as he was. Perhaps the circumstances weren’t exactly the same, but you knew that he was a victim, similar to how you are now a survivor.

Fortunately, you had people who cared about you and managed to help you with your situation, and when you saw that poor young man all meek and vulnerable, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn a blind eye. Even if you didn’t know him personally, you believed that nobody deserved that kind of ill treatment, whatever it was. You couldn’t say for certain what the young man was going through, but you did know that he was in pain. And so, you approached him.

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[statticscribbles]

Telling Newt You’re Pregnant

Summary: Headcanons: Telling Newt you’re pregnant

You’re unsure how Newt is going to react

You decide to just bring it up after feeding time

The minute the words leave your lips Newt sweeps you off your feet and refuses to put you down until he’s made sure you’re telling the truth

He then apperates the both of you to Theseus house; nevermind its four in the morning in London Theseus needs to know he’s going to be an uncle

Newt becomes really protective

He makes a point of going around to tell all his creatures and reminding them

He tries to do everything for you

He asks Dougal and Pickett to keep an eye on you

All of the creatures seem to understand and act calmer and are more gentle around you

When you go to visit his parents and tell them his mother informs you both she already knows because Theseus apperated over after you told him to cry about being an uncle; he assumed you’d told his parents and he was the second to know

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[luxbxtch]

Lonely (Queenie Goldstein x Daughter! Reader)

A/N: It’s been ages since I last wrote anything, I know, I’m so sorry!! Life is catching up to me and a lot has gone downhill since I last posted on here. Without further ado, here’s my latest creation! I recently saw the new fantastic beasts movie with one of my friends and it was so heartbreaking and awe inducing! The climax was beautiful I cried so much you have no idea!! Please enjoy!!

Word count: 791 (excluding intro and outro)

Warning: spoilers!! Angst!!! Reader is female!!!

Six days, three hours, and fifty-two seconds since you last saw your “father”. You missed him dearly. You missed his warm pastries on rainy days, his bellowing laughter when he read the comics in the newspaper, and the warm smile he gave customers. He was a caring man, with a heart of pure gold. You loved him like family, and you knew your mother did too. Your mother who had joined Grindlewald to marry the no-maj she desperately loved. You were no mind reader. You didn’t need to be to see that she was in as much pain as you were in. You didn’t understand her actions. She wanted so bad to be closer to him, but in doing so she left him alone, and pulled you with her. Since that horrific night, you had shut her out completely. You shut everyone off, isolating yourself to books and journals.

When Queenie tries to peek in your head, she’s met with static. She wants to know what you’re thinking, if you’re scared, angry, or just thinking. She couldn’t bear to see you upset with your father. Of course that’s what she’d assume, that you were upset with Jacob for not joining his family. It upset her too. But she loved him, and knew he would come around. For her sake and yours. She and Jacob adopted you as soon as she restored Jacob’s memories, and she did the same for you.

You were a no-maj as well, who knows how you got sucked up in this magical creatures business. But once you were, it seemed you had four parents.

While you quietly sat in the library of the castle, you rested on a loveseat with a screenplay in your hand. You wrote poetry yourself, but you could never compare yourself to the likes of Shakespeare. Generic, yes, but you’ve read every other book in the library, and Romeo and Juliet just so happened to be your favorite.

Queenie walked in cautiously, as if she were to frighten you by making too loud of a sound. “Sweetie?” She asked you gently, your eyes slowly shifting from the ancient words in the book to your mother. “Yeah?” You sat up as the gears in your head began to turn, reminding you to be careful with how you spoke to her. “I was just worried about you… I haven’t seen you very much since we…” She trailed off, just as careful with her words as you are. “You keep shutting me out and I just want to make sure you’re okay.” A careful, but forgiving smile twitched briefly onto her lips before her expression returned neutral. “I’m fine.” You respond quickly, your words sharper than intended. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate the tone. But she thought you were hurting the same way she was, so instantly she forgave you.

Queenie rushed to your side and gently placed her hand on your arm, it took more effort from you to keep her shut out of your mind. “I can tell you’re hurting… I can help you but you have to let me in. Tell me what you’re feeling…” She begged, only wanting the trust and care she somehow lost from you. You gave in, though you were still selective with what you said. “I feel… confused… scared… lonely… disappointed..” You finally managed to say, watching the relief in Queenie’s shoulders replace the tension locking them in place. “Oh, my (Y/N), I know it hurts. I know you’re upset because your father left us but-” You stood and pulled away from her, taking a few steps away from the woman you once knew as Queenie. “That’s not at all why I’m upset!” You snapped, the gears in your head circled faster and faster, clouding your head with an angry steam that pushed out your usual self and replaced it with something new. “You wanted us to be a family, yet you separated us even more. You wanted to get married then you left him standing there at the cemetery. You promised to always be with him then you left him alone!” You vented, you yelled, you cried as though your words were a circus wolf scratching and clawing to be free. And all Queenie could do was sit there and stare at you in disbelief. Eventually, your voice died down and you left her with your final words. “You’re not my mother.” with that, you left to not be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.

Queenie stayed in the library for a while, tears slowly going down her face as she watched the fire slowly burn out. “I never really thought about it that way….” She whispered to no one.

A/N: Let me know if y’all want a part two!!!! A Genji x Reader will come out soon ;P

[valkyriepirate]

Newt Scamander x Reader One Shot- Lean On Me

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night and notice Newt's absence. You go searching for him in his suitcase to find him passed out over his papers and try to bring him back to bed.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff :)

Word count: 1.3k words

A/N: I wrote this simply to satisfy my Newt craving. He is an adorable little cinnamon roll that must be protected at all costs.

#4- Lean On Me

You pried open your eyes and squinted in the darkness. The other side of the bed was vacant; you knew it without rolling over. Newt’s presence had become so familiar to you that when he wasn’t there, it was as if part of your heart had gone missing.  

You sat up, rubbing your face groggily. There was a light on somewhere in the house. You slid your feet into your slippers and padded toward the source, hugging your thin nightgown to your body. It had begun to get chilly, especially at night, and oftentimes Newt found you cuddled up in bed, shrouded by a multitude of blankets.  

The suitcase was propped open on a table in the foyer. A dim light glowed from within.  

Yawning, you stepped over the rim and descended into its depths. The creatures weren’t exactly aware of the passage of day and night in the suitcase, but most had seemed to settle once the sun had set in the outside world. A few of the nocturnal ones hooted and hummed as you entered.

“Newt?” you called sleepily, lighting a candle from the cabinet. “Are you awake?”

You turned a corner to his study, a small nook by the stairs crammed with bookshelves and creature care appliances. There he was, sleeping sprawled over his desk, stray papers from his latest endeavor strewn about, hair ruffled and mouth open slightly. You smiled at the sight of your husband. You’d given up urging him to go to bed months ago, realizing that he all too often tried to heed your words but became so swept up in his work that he lost track of time.  

You came up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders. “My love,” you kissed the top of his head. “Won’t you come up to bed?”

He started awake, blinking sleep from his eyes. “(Y-Y/N)?” He had a line imprint on his cheek where he’d fallen asleep on the table. He looked at his papers in confusion and began gathering them together. “What time is it?”

You ran your hand down the length of his arm and slipped your fingers into his ink-stained ones, preventing him from touching his work. “Time to go to bed,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.  

He stopped and leaned into your touch as you ran your thumb over his knuckles. He trapped your fingers, brought them to his lips, and nodded.  

You helped him to his feet and sneaked a hand around his torso as you led him up the stairs. Newt, of course, was wholly capable of climbing the stairs by himself, but you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to close the physical distance between you two.  

Newt didn’t seem to mind. You were the bolder one when it came to affection, but he always caught your touches and held you closer as if he could make them last forever. Often he would absentmindedly caress your arm or twirl a curl of your hair between his fingers. It was in the little things that you knew Newt showed the most care; sometimes a single touch from him said more than a thousand words.  

You tugged him into the bedroom you shared and released your hold as you went to fold an extra quilt over the bed. Your tendency to hog the blankets on cooler nights left Newt searching for warmth, you knew, though it didn’t escape your thoughts that his lack of cover usually led him to snuggle closer to you. Perhaps that was part of your subconscious plan.  

He stood on the other side of the bed, framed in candlelight. The fire shone around his hair just so, making it appear that he was crowned in a rubicund halo. He was unraveling his tie, his sluggish movements betraying how sleep-deprived he truly was.  

You flattened the quilt and came to stand by him. “Allow me,” you said, taking the tie from his hands. Deftly, you undid the knot. You had made Newt’s tie for him countless times each day before he headed off to work to the point that you could do it with your eyes closed. You tugged it from his neck and tossed it to the dresser.  

When you looked back up, Newt’s eyes were locked on you. When you first met, you found his inability to look you in the eye odd and yet a little endearing. As you two grew closer, he would hold your gaze for greater lengths of time, as if he had gotten lost in your eyes and was physically incapable of tearing himself away. Even now that you were married there was something vulnerable about it. It was like you were each seeing a hidden part of each other’s soul, like you were baring your hearts before each other and were unafraid of what it could expose.  

Not breaking his gaze, you allowed your hands to trail down his chest, grasping the buttons at his vest. His heart was racing underneath your palms. Yours skipped a beat. You were melting under that look. Gently, you unattached each of the buttons and slid the vest off his shoulders, leaving him in an undershirt that was already popped open at the collar. On the undershirt you let yourself undo only the first three buttons; you knew if you went any farther your hands might never stop exploring every inch of his skin.

You pressed on his shoulders and eased him to sit on the bed. He reached up to hold your hand, but you knelt to untie his shoelaces instead. You set his shoes aside and he drew you back to your feet, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist.  

“I don’t deserve you,” Newt mumbled, eyes flitting away and settling on your mouth.

You cupped his face in one hand and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair with the other. “The world doesn’t deserve you, my love.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand. “But you deserve the world.”

Your heart seemed to liquefy in your chest, sending warmth trickling all over your body. You leaned forward to kiss his brow. When you pulled back, his eyes- half-lidded and aglow with the candlelight- were once again fixed on your lips. He pulled you closer. Softly, as if it demanded the utmost care in the world, he tilted his head up and pressed his lips to yours.  

He kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were his, as if you would disappear from his arms at any moment. It was delicate and utterly sweet and ended far too soon.  

“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. His voice was shaky, and he was looking at you like you were a dream.

In reply, you kissed him again. You lowered yourself to sit on his lap and he scooted back, tugging you with him, your hips curved into his body. Your hands stroked his neck and once more found their way down his arms. He shivered under your touch. You smiled against his lips and moved the kiss deeper.  

Newt leaned back and pulled you both onto the bed. You fell against his chest and dipped into the crook of his arm. Running the back of your fingers over his cheek, you whispered, “I love you too.”

Sleep was quickly claiming him, and you could feel its steady hold on you too. You kissed him once more, then rolled over and blew out the candle. You snuggled underneath the blankets, feeling Newt’s warm arm slip around your waist, his ankles entwining with yours.  

You were entering a world of blissful dreams when you felt his soft lips on the crook of your shoulder. You cuddled closer to him, your back up against his chest, and smiled into the night.  

“Good night, my love,” you said.  

“Good night, my darling,” he said as he drifted off to sleep once again.

Masterlist

[ivorydragoness44]

Percival Graves x Reader: Found

Summary: Prior to and during the events of FBAWTFT. The Reader returns to their Auror position in the MACUSA. They were on assignment elsewhere in the Wizarding World and had missed Percival Graves being taken hostage by Gellert Grindelwald.

Word Count: 4,459

Warnings: Angst, wizarding world drama and spells, and Percival Graves being captured and injured...I think that’s all of them...

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

There was a certain kind of spring in your step as your morning route took you through the chilled air of New York. As soon as the Woolworth building was in sight, you felt a flutter in your stomach. It had been well over three months since you had been at Headquarters, and going back into your usual place of work gave you a sense of excitement. Sure, you would have to likely spend the day, if not longer, making reports on your previous assignment, but you were not worried about that.

As you approached the entry door, you had to hold yourself back from running through it. Not that it would have helped. It was revolving at its own pace.

While leaving New York was exiting to help another division, you were glad to be back. Especially so to finally resume contact with your boyfriend, Percival Graves.

Back in routine, your legs walked you into the building and guided you up the stairs while your eyes drank in the familiar shine of the floor and enormous Magical Exposure Threat Level dial suspended above in the main lobby.

Nothing seemed to have changed during your absence. With the exception of the threat level, however. You were sure that Percival was going to catch you up on all of the happenings as well as he could.

You paired rather well together, in your opinion. If you did not, the two of you would not have been dating for the past few months prior to your departure. Most discreetly, of course. It was such a quiet relationship that you were positive that no one knew. Well, with the exclusion of maybe one other member of MACUSA.

As you made your way to your office, the flutter in your stomach ignited again with anticipation and hope of your reunion with Percival. What you did not expect, however, was to round a corner a little too fast and tightly that you accidentally ran into another well-suited figure.

The initial impact had you stumble for a brief moment. Collecting yourself quickly of course, you regained your balance with your footing and a hand to the wall.

A laugh escaped your lips as your eyes met the other wizard’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“Think nothing of it. It appears you’re very eager to get back to work,” Percival Graves smiled in amusement. “Welcome back.” With a nod, he excused himself as he stepped around you and went on his way.

Staring after him for a moment, you blinked. It was not quite the reunion that you had in mind.

It was a short walk to reach your office from that point. Walking through the threshold and closing the door, you were met with such a familiar space that it gave you a sense of security. However, the thought crept up again, and this time you held onto it. As happy as you were to have interacted, even briefly, with Percival, you were disheartened with the lack of intimacy to it. Even a whispered ‘I missed you,’ would have done wonders to your heart. It was not as if either of you had never whispered a few short words like that before.

As dismayed as you were, you thought you may have over-read the interaction. Then again, perhaps it was through distance and time that had taken its toll on what was a blooming relationship. It was still your first day back after all, and you did not want to bring up the matter with him just yet. It was Percival you were thinking about. Your Percival. He would discuss it whenever he was ready.

A week later and you found yourself heading down to the Major Investigation Department. It was nothing unusual. It was a part of your job as an Auror on the Investigative Team.

You were early as you would typically be. Your punctuality never went unnoticed by the Madame President and the Director of Magical Security. However, having the head of MACUSA’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a now silent-in-the-romance-department-boyfriend made you feel more uncomfortable as the days passed. That is not to say that you were thinking about him at all times of the day. No, you were a professional and career oriented Auror and you were not about to have a little repairable bump in your personal life interfere with your job.

As you stepped into the room and around a storage compartment, you found Percival Graves leant over a table. His dark slicked back hair was one of his features that you were able to identify without a second’s hesitation.

Circling around him, you saw as he laid out the day’s newspaper; The New York Ghost. You were about to get a look at the stack of files when he acknowledged your presence.

“Afternoon,” he smiled gently.

“Afternoon,” you nodded with a small smile of your own. If he was not going to use your name, then neither were you.

“Your punctuality is impeccable.”

“So I’ve been told—sir.”

He smirked slightly, but did not comment on it.

“If the magical disturbances continue at this pace, will we be raising the threat level to severe within the month, if not sooner?”

“It appears so. Hopefully we can find what is causing these disturbances and put a stop to it.”

“Or who,” you added.

A smile tugged at his lips as your reply made an impression on him. “You’re very quick. Madame President should be very glad to have you as one of our highest-level Aurors.”

“Thank you, sir,” your voice lower than intended.

It was something that he had said to you before. This time, however, it felt different. As if he were saying it for the first time. Maybe this was his way of reconciliation. To start over. But there was something off. There was a lack of connection when you looked into his eyes. The want was not there. There was no depth of knowing more that you would usually see. You felt so lost.

Graves’s eyebrows knit together momentarily. “You need not be so modest, it’s true. I’ve read your latest reports. The other divisions were lucky to have you assist them.”

“I was only doing what was expected of me.” As you said this, your courage earlier in the day had diminished. It was the first time that you actually felt a nervous hesitation to ask him, even quietly, about what had transpired between the two of you while you were gone. For some odd reason, it now felt as if that would be overstepping some invisible barrier that the pair of you had swept away so many months ago. And as you heard the heels of the President’s shoes approach, you knew that another opportunity had passed you by.

Another day at the office turned into another week, and still Percival had yet to speak with you privately. Interactions between you felt as they did well over a year ago. Then again, even before you had begun to feel anything other than professionalism towards him, there was always this extra care in his eyes. But those eyes, when you looked into them now, that care was no where to be seen.

A total of three months had passed since your return, and things were still…different. You were occupying your office as per usual when a gentle knock came to your door. When you gave them permission to enter, you found yourself almost relieved at who it was.

“Good afternoon,” Queenie Goldstein chimed sweetly as she walked in, a small tray of food in her hands.

“Afternoon,” you smiled, leaning away from the files splayed out over your desk. “I guess time got away from me.”

“It certainly did,” she gave a laugh.

You noticed as her eyes traced over the papers before you pushed them aside, taking the tray from her as she handed it to you.

“You’re usually good at keeping track of time,” she acknowledged. Then she blinked, and her head made a small tilt in thought.

At first, you thought nothing of it as you took a sip of your drink.

“You’re busying yourself with more work to keep your mind off of him.”

You paused. Being away for so long, you had forgotten about blocking your mind. Not that you had anything to worry about with Queenie. She was good. One of your favorite co-workers, though you did not work closely with her.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” she said, responding to your quick thought. “Oh, Mister Graves taught you how to block your mind? He was so patient with you.”

You could not help the flood of memories racing through your mind as one thing reminded you of another. At least it was far better than your interactions with him, or lack there of, now.

“You’re afraid to ask him what’s changed. I’m so sorry—Oh, no, sweetie, I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“Distance,” you shook your head, trying to at least converse consciously out loud with her. “And time, I suppose.”

“But he was such a gentleman with you. He—aw, he used to walk you home from work. Surely he has a good explanation.”

“He better,” you grumbled into a bite of your food.

Queenie put a reassuring hand to your shoulder as you consciously allowed the memory of your last visit with Percival before your assignment to play out it your mind. It was comforting at the time, but now with the present circumstances, it hurt.

“Perhaps, you both can start anew. Start over. I remember catching those looks you gave each other. Hearing your thoughts as he held your hand in the elevator,” she smiled, coaxing your own lips to curve up.

Maybe with time and courage, you could find the right moment to speak with Percival. Especially since it seemed as though he was not going to utter a single word to you first about it.

Time continued to pass. An unseen threat to the wizarding community was literally wrecking havoc through New York. As the Magical Exposure Threat Level rose, so did tensions and anxiety of the inevitable and unforeseen future.

Nearly six months later, and you were down in the subway tunnel with the other top Aurors accompanying President Picquery when you all came upon the scene. Now you had seen some interesting scenes in your line of work, but never one that made you feel so uneasy and confused.

It had been quite an interesting past few days at MACUSA.

There was the British wizard, Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein, fellow co-worker of MACUSA yet ex-Auror, who appeared to be talking gently with the large smokey black mass suspended near the ceiling. The Obscurial.

“Shhh! Don’t, you’ll frighten him.” Tina instructed of your group whose wands were raised.

The Obscurus made the most awful sounds, as if moaning when it began to grow in size. The intensity was greater than you could have imagined. The creature, or being, for which you were not certain, began to affect the tunnel around it; collapsing it steadily.

You were always one to take orders, but you were not expecting Scamander and Goldstein to stand in front of the Obscurus so protectively. The entire day had been a cluster of panic swirled with confusion.

Why would they want to protect something that had been raging through the city, killing, and by the scene of No-Majs outside, exposed the wizarding community.

It was then that Graves finally faced the Aurors. His wand was raised, and you were even more alarmed. What on Earth had gotten into him?

“Wands down! Anyone harms him—they’ll answer to me—” he called out before looking back at the swirling mass. “Credence!”

Following your orders to protect against a possible war with the No-Majs, you did what was expected of you. What you believed was right. You did as what your companions also sworn to do.

Spells flew out of each Auror’s wand as the group shot upon the Obscurus.

“NO!” Graves cried out between the crackles and numerous sounds of the spells being cast.

The single word hurt you and for a moment you thought the screaming of pain from the Obscurus was coming from your own heart. However dreadful, the spells continued with unrelenting determination.

But just as quickly as the wands of your fellow Aurors fired upon the swirling mass, it changed. The suddenness of its burst forcing all present to push back from the unseen wave of power. Then, there were only a few fluttering traces left. It truly appeared to have been destroyed.

Regaining your footing, you eyed the other Aurors around you. With a few nods here and there, your attention went back onto the platform, seeing movement.

It was Graves. He looked as though he was inspecting the leftover fragments from the Obscurus. And when you looked at him, you no longer saw your Percival. This was Mister Graves. A far different Graves than you had remembered. And it was when the closest of the Aurors advanced toward him, that so did you.

“You fools,” Graves began, his face twisted with anger. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

It was the President who walked out from amidst the ranks to question him as the rest of you looked on.

“The Obscurial was killed on my orders, Mr. Graves.”

“Yes. And history will surely note that, Madam President.” Such a dark tone that laced his words. Still up on the platform, he stalked closer. “What was done here tonight was not right!”

“He was responsible for the death of a No-Maj.” She reasoned. “He risked the exposure of our community. He has broken one of our most sacred laws—“

What struck at your heart with such a pain was the words that came from Percival’s mouth so scornfully. That, and the bitter laughter that rang out of his mouth.

“A law that has us scuttling like rats in the gutter! A law that demands that we conceal our true nature! A law that directs those under its dominion to cower in fear lest we risk discovery! I ask you, Madam President—” His dark eyes glimmered with something that you dare not read as he looked over the individuals within the tunnel. “—I ask all of you—who does this law protect? Us? Or them?” He asked, indicating to the No-Majs outside.

Your grip tightened on your wand, your chest nearly heaving with your intake of controlled breaths. What has he become?

“I refuse to bow down any longer,” Graves smiled resentfully at the President. With his angered confidence, he turned away, leaving the scene.

“Aurors,” Madam Picquery declared of the group beside her, “I’d like you to relieve Mr. Graves of his wand and escort him back to—”

An Auror was all too ready. With a quick spell they blocked Graves path with a wall of white light. The very same barrier that was keeping all No-Majs out of the subway station.

After a moment’s thought, Graves pivoted and strode back. Arm raised, he aimed spells at both your group and the other set of Aurors. And yet no matter how many of you there were, or how many spells you yourself cast, he parried them all.

It was unbelievable, and yet it was happening right in front of your eyes. Who was once your kind Percival was now raining down upon MACUSA’s top Aurors. Quite a number flew off of the tracks and against the Art Deco walls.

Then, within a breath’s time, a colorful creature swooped over Graves. In doing so, yourself and the other Aurors were shielded from Graves’s battering spells. It was peculiar and in a way, beautiful. However, your thoughts on the creature were swept away as a spell from Scamander wrapped around Graves. The white strand coiled tighter around him as he tried to fight it off, struggling until his knees hit the floor; his wand falling from his grasp.

“Accio,” Tina Goldstein called upon Graves’s wand and into her hand.

The man you had once knew now held such a darkness in his eyes. The hatred etched on his face made him look like a completely different person to you. It made you wonder if this was the man truly behind the one that you had once shared time with. Or, did something happen during your absence.

Both Scamander and Goldstein approached him slowly, as one might with such a dangerous being.

“Revelio.” Uttered Mister Scamander as he stepped around Graves carefully.

A spell to reveal. One that would be used to reveal the true appearance of something or someone who would transfigure—

Your jaw dropped.

His physical appearance did in fact begin to change. The once dark hair on his head became white and all that you once knew fell apart.

There was a stunned silence as you all stared at Gellert Grindelwald.

He was Graves? You thought. He…that explains the difference in our interactions.

Your astonishment morphed back to one of anger and worry. Grindelwald. Graves. Where’s my Percival, you foul wizard?

President Picquery approached him.

“Do you think you can hold me?” Grindelwald peered at her scornfully.

“We’ll do our best, Mr. Grindelwald.”

You could not properly see his expression from where you stood, but appeared as if he was smiling. Even as two Aurors forced him upright and toward the entrance, ready to imprison him in the depths of MACUSA.

A rage like you’ve never felt consumed your senses as you glared at the wizard when other Aurors took him away. Thankfully, it embed when he was out of your sight.

Soon after, the other Goldstein, Queenie and a No-Maj that you had heard about, worked their way past the group of Aurors to get to her sister and Mister Scamander.

You could not watch the exchange as you and other Aurors were overlooking the scene of destruction.

With all that had happened this night, all that the No-Majs had seen, how could the secrecy of the magical world possibly remain hidden? Or be restored, for that matter.

Madam Picquery then took to the group of four. “We owe you an apology, Mr. Scamander. But the magical community is exposed! We cannot Obliviate an entire city.”

That much was true. And you were not willing to let in another disturbing amount of stress into your system on that note.

“Actually,” Mister Scamander replied after a few moments, “I think we can.”

The next thing you knew, Mister Scamander was opening his case of magical creatures just under the broken opening of the subway roof. He had a plan to use the venom of a Swooping Evil to Obliviate the No-Majs around the city. You supposed it was one of those occurrences that you had to see to believe.

A large feathery creature, one that looked like a four-winged golden eagle, flew out of the case. It was impossibly large for that case, but that was magic. It was magnificent, and yet completely abrupt; yourself and the rest of the Aurors backing away. It was not every day that you got the chance to see such a magical creature.

The creature flapped its wings to remain in front of Mister Scamander. The words uttered from his mouth were that for the magical bird, and unreachable to your ears.

You were not alone in your awe. The two exchanged a sort of nuzzle of affection, a clear sign of trust and an established friendship. It was sweet. It also made you wonder of what other magical creatures were in that case of his.

Mister Scamander then threw the vial of what you supposed was Swooping Evil venom up above the bird who caught it in its beak easily, crying out. Within the same moment, it flew up out of the subway tunnel.

It was dawn as the thunderbird flew up to the sky and created a storm. Yourself and the rest of the Aurors were tasked with repairing the city from the destruction caused by the Obscurus.

You marveled at the genius of giving the magical creature the vial to Obliviate the No-Majs of the past magical occurrences; to which all were terrifying to them.

So as you passed by the No-Majs and onto empty streets, you felt a sense of freedom in using your magic to fix the torn cityscape. It hardly took long at all using Repairing Charms, at least with the added benefit of the number of Aurors present.

You stood on the roof of one building, overlooking the city. The rain continued to fall and trail down your coat. It was like a moment of clarity that you had not felt for quite some time.

Taking a breath, you turned to an Auror as they walked up beside you.

“Maybe there are some good things that can come from these beasts,” they said.

“Yes, but for now I have something else that I must do,” you said conclusively.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to Mister Graves’ home. Hopefully, he is there.”

“All right,” they nodded. “I’ll take a team with me to meet you there. Let me check over this area first.”

“See you then.” You nodded and Disapparated in the next moment.

The next thing you saw was the front of Graves’s apartment building. The sheer sight of the familiar structure nearly overwhelmed you, but you kept your calm. You hurried up the stairs, your wand still in hand as you quickly and accurately checked for unseen traps as you entered the building and quietly went into Graves’s home.

It was dark, and you dared not touch a single item. With a flick of your wrist, you drew open the curtains to better light your way, though the clouds in the sky dampened the light. Thankfully, to the best of your ability, you did not find a single trap.

Then you stood motionless, observing the living space. It had been a long while since you were last there. With your magic and your own eyes you searched for anything out of the ordinary. There were shoe-prints and traces of the past hours of Grindelwald that you dispersed away, not wanting to see that horrid wizard.

“Percival,” you breathed out, your voice coming out a lot quieter than you initially thought.

You did not know if he would even be there, much less alive.

Walking deeper into the apartment, you called out a little louder, nearly at an average talking voice level.

You were hoping that your senses would not play tricks on you, especially when you swore you heard a faint voice from the other room.

Slowly, you wrapped your hand around the knob of the closed door. You hesitated. Something you only ever done on your first assignment. Gripping the metal much more tightly, you turned the fixture and opened the door.

“Lumos.” The word softly filled the small space.

There, curled up in the far end of the room was the true Percival Graves.

He shielded his eyes from the bright light as you gawked at the sight of him.

“Percival!” You called out to him. Your heart leap and fell all at once.

Your name hardly reached your ears as he dared look beyond his hand.

“I’ll get you out in just a moment!”

Scrambling over to him, you knelt by his side. You were about to use your wand to rid him of his shackles, but his voice stopped you.

“Don’t. He’s spelled them much too greatly,” he warned, trying to prop himself up on the cold floor. “You must leave here.”

Frowning, it was obvious from what you had witnessed of Grindelwald earlier that he would not let such a simple spell undo his wickedness. But perhaps, just maybe, a No-Maj trick might.

“I will be right back, I promise,” you whispered, running back out of the room.

You tore through his house toward the closet in his bedroom. There, you threw open the doors and filed through his clothes on the rack until you came upon an empty hanger. As you grabbed it, you held an eye roll. You could have just as easily took a shirt off of a hanger.

With your wand, you broke off a few pieces bits of the wire hanger and ran back to Percival.

“What are you doing?” He asked as you poked the wires into the keyhole of his bindings.

“Getting you out of this,” you said, scowling at the metal with all of your focus.

A low and sharp click sounded and Percival sighed as the shackles fell off of his wrists.

Finally out of his entrapment, he gently rubbed his wrists while his eyes darted around the room. His hair was disheveled and what clothes he wore were well-worn from who knows how long of a time. It was even the first time that you had seen him unshaven.

Brushing aside his hair from his forehead, you coaxed him to relax.

“No,” he pushed to get himself off of the floor, his feet squeaking on the wood. “We have to leave. He’ll return. And he’s too powerful for us to take on.”

“Shh, shh. It’s all right. We’ve got him. Grindelwald’s been caught. It was Newt Scamander who found him out. Some Aurors took him back to MACUSA.”

Those dark eyebrows struggled to knit together. “What?”

“The point is, you’re safe now,” you said, letting yourself smile.

Finally, you were reunited with your Percival. As battered as he was, you were all too glad to see him.

“You’re sure?” He asked, tired eyes looking into yours.

“Absolutely.”

He stared at you for a moment and then off elsewhere in thought. Finally, he sighed and allowed himself to slump against the wall behind him.

“Are you injured?”

“Nothing too terrible, as strange as that sounds,” he said, failing to hide a wince as you touched his shoulder.

“And by terrible, I suppose you mean, life-threatening?”

Percival let out a laugh, but his body jerked in an opposing direction before settling back down. “I really did miss you.” His watery eyes held your gaze.

“Hmm, to think all this time that I’ve been back at Headquarters I thought you were upset with me.”

His hand reached up to caress your face. The touch was delicate and sincere. “I would not be upset with you. I was waiting for your return.”

Holding his hand against your cheek, you leant closer. “And you, sir, need to check into a hospital.”

[custardcrazy]

Daffodil (Credence)

HEY GUYS so it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written something huh?? anyway so idk if this counts as a reader-insert but i guess you could do that? or just imagine your oc bc i didn’t use y/n or anthing like that, just she/her pronouns. 

anyway enjoy this shitty oneshot. 

inspired by a post from @imaginecredence​ ( HERE ) 

__________ 

A while had passed since Credence had lived in New York City. 

Gone were the harsh cold nights spent in the drafty old orphanage, gone were the loud sounds of the city, and gone were .. well, mostly everything about his pitiful existence back then. He was no longer the scared young man, now confident (and yet still a little awkward) and self-sufficient. His younger self would spend lots of time daydreaming about his future - perhaps he'd be a rich, ritzy businessman, living each day to the fullest with a pretty lady on each arm. Or, perhaps he'd become a researcher, visiting foreign countries to catalog new species, documenting his findings in a well-worn journal. (It turns out that his future was a lot more simple - but he liked that all the same.) 

When he was daydreaming, the possibilities were endless. But back then, he was like a bird trapped in a cage in reality. 

Now? Not so much. 

While it was true that sometimes his mind brought up memories from the past that he'd rather tear from his mind than recall, he wasn't alone in dealing with this. Not anymore. 

The wedding band on his left hand was physical proof to this. 

Sure, Credence wasn't entirely sure if he believed in the "happily ever after" fairytale ending. And he knew that the ending of his story wasn't to be for a good while. But he knew for sure that this was gonna be pretty damn close to that. And if it wasn't? Well, he was happier right now than he had ever been before. So he'd take it with a grateful hand. 

Speaking of right now… 

Rays of sunlight peeked through the closed blinds, and the muffled sounds of birds chirping outside roused Credence from a relatively decent night's sleep. It took him a moment to fully wake up, surroundings fuzzy before sharply coming into focus. 

He felt a weight on his chest, and looking down, he saw her - still asleep, unabashedly using him as a sort of pillow, with her hair tickling his chin ever so slightly. Beautiful as ever, he noted, as the little bits of light streaming from the window gave her a slightly ethereal appearance. She looked utterly relaxed, and he couldn't help but smile a little whilst he gently smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear. 

At his touch, she began to stir, taking a little while to open her eyes and yawn, burying her face into his pajama shirt. 

"What time is it?" she said, sounding groggy, and Credence glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, putting his hand on the back of her head as he did so. "It's early, dear," he said simply, as to which she answered with a muffled grumble. "I can go prepare breakfast if you'd like, Robbie and Mary will be up soon and clamoring at my heels," he continued with a small chuckle. "We've still got some bread in the pantry." 

"Which they will devour," she responded, looking up slightly at him. "I'll have to go food shopping soon, anyhow. Little devils." There was no venom in her tone, really, only affection. "Let's hope that they haven't depleted Kennebunk's bread storage just yet!" 

Credence knew that she loved their children as much as he did, maybe even more. He could understand that, as they had inherited their mother's eyes. He kissed her forehead gently. 

"They told me that we were going to the beach today, is that true?" She pretended to ponder over his question. 

"Maybe so, maybe not. I'll be happy to go if Papa prepares the picnic lunch, as Mama has a lot of washing to do before we leave the house." She feigned annoyance, which appeared as an adorable pout on her face. 

He smiled. "Gladly will, dearest." 

Kissing her again, he clambered out of bed. He could already hear the sound of hushed voices coming from the children's shared bedroom down the hall. 

Credence would have to hurry to wash up before his beloveds tore the kitchen apart. 

[toutallyahoe]

drabble dump pt5

requested by: –

pairing(s): various x male reader

warnings: cursing, character death, hints of smut

a/n: hmmmMMmmmmMMMm

"beautiful" — tommy jarvis (friday the 13th: the game)

[Name] adoringly looked at the man sleeping beside him. One of his hands lazily playing the sleeping man's hair as he softly smiled.

"God... you're so beautiful," [Name] softly muttered. There was a gleam of amusement in his [Eye color] eyes when he saw the supposed sleeping man beside him smile.

"Well... God made me beautiful," Tommy had said as he crack one eye open to see his lover's amused face. "Unlike you, he fucked up."

[Name] laughed at Tommy's words as he leaned close to the other man and placed a soft kiss on Tommy's forehead.

"Shut up, dork."

"together" — connor murphy (dear evan hansen)

Connor rolled his eyes, plucking the cigarette off from [Name]'s lips and instead put it on his, he took a puff. "Didn't think to find you here," he had said. [Name] shrugged.

"Had to get away," [Name] grunted as Connor plopped beside him on the table he was occupying outside 7/11.

There was silence between the two. After awhile, Connor laid his head on [Name]'s shoulder.

"You think we'll survive this shit?" Connor asked as [Name] let out a dry chuckle.

"No," [Name] had said as he laid his head on Connor's. "But who cares? We're together."

"cute" — kieran duffy (red dead redemption 2)

Kieran let out a surprised gasp when [Name] hauled him up by his legs. Kieran instinctively wrapped them around [Name]'s as his back was pressed on the solid wood of the tree.

"[N]... [Name]!" Kieran squeaked as he then immediately clamped one of his hands on his mouth to prevent any noises leaving them as [Name] entered inside him.

The said man merely chuckled at his actions and placed a soft kiss on his cheek as his lips were hidden by his hand.

"Sorry," [Name] half-heartedly apologized as he squeezed Kieran's thigh. "But you're too cute, mi amor."

"secret" — javier escuella (red dead redemption 2)

"Lo que digas gilipollas," Javier had said. [Name], who was near Javier couldn't help but snort as he rolled his eyes.

"Muy divertido, mi amigo," [Name] said, patting Javier on the back as Javier turned to look at him. Surprised Javier was until he remembered that [Name] knew Spanish, making Javier grin.

"Olvidé que hablas español," Javier had honestly said as [Name] shrugged. Not minding the annoyed glance from the man who came to them and insulted Javier.

"A veces yo también," [Name] chuckled. "De todos modos, ¿quieres insultar a este hijo de puta?" [Name] asked.

Javier grinned. "¡Por supuesto!"

"smells like you" — newt scamander (fantastic beasts and where to find them)

Newt smiled when he saw the potion on his cauldron was well. Newt could smell something nice. The potion was Amortentia which he brewed from curiosity.

The smell of musk, new parchment and the forest is what Newt had picked up. And something... something Newt can't quiet put place.

Eyebrows furrowed, Newt tried to remember what that smell was. He swore the scent was familiar.

The aroma was the woody smell of a broomstick handle. A thing he remembered a close friend of his carried with.

Newt's face flushed as he realized who it was. It smells like [Name].

< prev | next >

[15-dogs]

resident healer |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x healer!artist!reader

summary: newt’s brother theseus hires you as his resident healer without newt’s knowledge. however, newt has little use for you so you put your other skills to the test as you spend each day falling a little harder for the man who won’t even speak to you. (super super fluffy! mutual pining, enemies(ish/mild dislike LMAO) to lovers, miscommunication, flustered newt!!)

warnings: extremely minimal swearing, injury, mention of blood

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 3.6K

a/n: it’s official y’all i’m in love with newt asjdhsj sorry sorry

Newt gasped in pain, jerking his hand away from the Occamy that bit harshly at his finger. He squatted down to meet its eyes, frowning as he scolded, “Don’t be rude.” 

The Occamy simply squawked back. Newt tutted, snatching a snack for the small thing beside its nest and tossing them up in the air. The Occamies in the nest all hopped up, hurrying to retrieve the treats before the others did. Newt shook his head with a chuckle as he moved away from the creatures and onto the next.

“Mr. Scamander,” Bunty called from the top of the stairs which led to his apartment, “Miss (Y/L/N) is here.”

Newt dried his hands off on his pants, brows furrowed in confusion. He’d never heard that name before and he knew he wasn’t expecting a guest, so who was at his door? Newt shrugged his vest back on as he made his way up the stairs, his eyes trained on the buttons he was doing up. He was so focused on the task at hand that he forgot he was in the landing of his apartment, his leg lifted in preparation to take another step which led him to tumble into the wall ahead.

“Mr. Scamander!” Bunty gasped. She ran to his side instantly, checking to see if he was injured. She held his face in her hands, staring into his eyes as he tried to pull away. “You really hit your head, didn’t you?”

Newt blinked in shock, finally wiggling free of her grasp and walking backwards into his den. “No, I’m fine, Bunty, thank you.”

In his efforts to move away from her, Newt bumped into another figure, nearly tipping him over. He steadied himself before turning around, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Scamander,” you said, warmly. You extended your hand for him to shake, which he did so hesitantly.

“Right, yes.” His eyes scoured the room as he gathered his words. “And you are?”

You looked over him with an involuntary cock of your head, your brows knit together. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Not really, no.”

You laughed humorlessly. “And I suppose you don’t know why I’m here, either.”

Newt cleared his throat and stood a little taller, still fiddling with his wand. “I’m sorry, should I?”

You knew he wasn’t trying to be rude, but you couldn’t help but be a little offended at his words. You were there for him. It was quite literally your job. You gave him a slight frown before straightening out your clothing to keep yourself busy.

“I am (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m your new resident Healer.”

Newt began to smile as if you had said something quite funny. He looked up at Bunty, nodding his head towards the door to his basement. She scrambled down as he continued to converse with you.

“My resident Healer?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Yes, I was hired.”

Those words were like a bucket of ice on Newt’s content mood. His smile had dropped from his face and he stopped fiddling with his wand. His eyes slowly drifted up to yours, asking the silent question of who? Who would’ve hired such a thing for him? 

You could tell from the irritation swimming in his eyes that he knew exactly who had hired you. From the second you saw Newt, you knew he wasn’t a scary person, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Theseus, your brother, did.”

Newt swallowed hard, tapping his foot against the hardwood floor as he thought. It seemed like forever that you sat in tense silence, hoping you hadn’t done something wrong by telling him. Finally, Newt shook his head, his hair flopping back and forth as he paced around the room, ending at the door and opening it.

“I don’t need a Healer. I’ve been fine on my own thus far.”

You took a step towards him, his eyes still focused on the cold street outside. “Mr. Scamander, I don’t think you understand. I’m a private Healer. I work for no affiliation. I have been hired here and I intend to keep this job.”

“My apologies, Miss (Y/L/N), but I feel your talents would be of better use elsewhere.”

Newt rested a hand on your upper back, pushing you closer towards the door until you were halfway out of it. He refused to meet your eyes as you protested, simply shutting the door in your face. His hand hovered over the doorknob for one minute more as he heard your sighs of exasperation from the other side, a sick feeling settling into his stomach. 

When silence finally dawned on the apartment, Newt began to walk away only to hear the distinct sound of ripped paper from outside. He paused and turned just in time to see a note slipped under the door, the sound of your shoes clicking down the stone steps as background noise. Newt squatted to pick up the note, scoffing at your indignant message.

I’ll be here tomorrow at 8 AM, Mr. Scamander.

Best,

(Y/N)

•••

You sat on Newt’s perfectly done up couch, picking at the quilt that sat beside you on the arm of it. Your leg was bouncing and your eyes scoured the room, begging it to give you something to do other than just wait around.

Newt popped out of his bedroom, running a hand through his hair as he ran up and down between his basement and the main floor. You would glance at him out of the corner of your eye every time he did so, wishing he would give you anything to do.

After the fifth time he arrived upstairs, he paused to look at you. You sat at attention, awaiting his useful instructions.

With a limp point towards the room across from him, he stated, “There’s food in the pantry. Help yourself.”

Your hands gripped onto the quilt, balling it up in your fists to contain your anger. You sent a vicious smile Newt’s way and he sent a wary one back before running downstairs.

You had considered yourself to be a person of immense patience, but Merlin was that man testing you. Every day after that you sat on his couch, examining the apartment, hoping that he would come up from his workshop and beg you to help him. 

At some point in your weeks of sitting, you stopped dressing the part of Healer. You stopped caring. He clearly didn’t need you but you clearly couldn’t leave, so you took the necessary steps to make that hellish limbo a bit more comfortable. You brought novels and notebooks, blankets and pillows, all so you could sit on Newt Scamander’s couch and pretend you were his star Healer.

Feeling entirely useless one day, you decided to pull out your notebook and sketch a few items around the apartment. If you couldn’t practice one talent, why not practice the other? You ended up drawing a plethora of strange items from where you sat; all of which you assumed to be objects used in his care for his creatures.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the soft clang of a dinner plate was placed in front of you. You looked up and spotted Newt across the room at his kitchen table as he took a bite of his dinner with one hand and tucked his wand away with the other. You searched the room for a moment, wondering if that was some kind of trap— Newt had never eaten with you before, let alone make you dinner. You picked up the dish with severe caution, carefully taking a bite and smiling softly at how wonderful it tasted.

Your silent dinners became a regular occurrence. You didn’t bother talking to him and he didn’t bother talking to you. You would finish your meal and then pick up whatever you were doing prior until 8:00 when you left.

As you sat on his couch, curled up under a blanket with your sketchbook, you looked over the room to see if there was anything different to draw when your eyes landed on Newt, himself. He was reading a book, splaying the pages open as he chewed on the thumb of his opposite hand. Something about the way he sat was so poetic, and the next thing you knew you were drawing his portrait.

You began to draw his portrait every dinner, a sudden infatuation with the way he looked blossoming within you. After dinner one day, Newt came up to you to collect your plate rather than just charming it to fly to the sink.

“Do you draw?” he asked.

You, so alarmed by his presence, shouted, “No!” and slammed your sketchbook shut, praying to Merlin that he didn’t see his pictures.

“I just thought you were because…” Newt trailed off as he referenced the ink stains on your hands and shapes of objects that must’ve rubbed off on you. 

You flushed, finally nodding with a quiet, “Yes, I draw. Not very well, but I quite like it.”

He sunk into the spot next to you, his leg bouncing up and down as he spoke. “I’m sure that you’re a wonderful artist. If you’d ever care to show me some time, I’m sure my opinion will be justified.”

Your cheeks turned pink and you ducked your head to avoid his stare. “Yes, maybe at some point.”

Newt let out a gratified sigh before stalking over to the kitchen, butterflies occupying your stomach. You knew then that you didn’t like drawing him because he was fun to draw. No, you realized that you were quite infatuated with the man who barely spoke a word to you but you had the feeling that you were going to change that.

•••

“Mr. Scamander-”

“Please,” he began, looking at you over his shoulder, “it’s Newt.”

“Right, yes, Newt.” You stood up from his couch with his book in hand, trailing after him as he paced around his apartment. “I’ve been reading your book. It’s quite fascinating, I have to say.”

His steps slowed to a stop and his eyes lit up. “You like it?”

You only looked up from his book when you rammed straight into him. You teetered backwards but his strong arms caught you, holding you flush against his chest. “I-I do.” You wiggled out of his grasp, fearing the increase in your heart rate. “I just, er, find it fascinating that you keep all those creatures in your basement, not more than a few meters below us.”

He shrugged, continuing his pacing until he stopped by the basement door. “Not all of them, but a great deal.” Newt averted his eyes towards the ground, a shy smile spreading across his lips. “I could show you if you like? You could take your sketchbook down and draw some up for me.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Bunty has the day off and I could use your company-” Newt cut himself off, his eyes wide and blush creeping up his cheeks. “The company, is what I meant. Just some company, is all. Well, that’s not to say I don’t like your company— I’m partial to it, actually— but-”

You chuckled, snatching your sketchbook from your bag on the couch. You passed by the man, stopping to look him once over. “I enjoy your company, too, Newt.”

You spent the rest of the day in the basement with Newt as he explained each creature to you  with the glee of a child. You smiled, wondering if he’d ever smile at you the way he smiled at his beasts, but quickly dismissed the thought.

You ended up drawing some of his creatures, particularly focused on the Murtlap that scurried around its cage. After you had finished a rough sketch of the creature, you had turned to show Newt when you were stopped in your tracks by the sight before you; Newt had a Bowtruckle perched on his finger, speaking to it like a friend, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a plethora of scars on his collarbone. Your mouth went dry and you knew then and there that you had to draw him.

You focused on every crinkle of his smile, the sharpness of his jaw, the pure adoration behind his eyes. Newt was encapsulating. Everything about him drove you wild. It was almost embarrassing how he made you feel so mad but you couldn’t help it— you were at the point past no return.

As the day came to a close, Newt cleaned up around his basement as his eyes flickered in between you and the broom he held. You had propped his book up on your leg so that you could draw in some more specific details about the creatures you had sketched, wanting it to look perfect if Newt was going to see. He let out a soft exhale in amusement at your contorted position, alerting you to his presence.

“May I see?” His eyes drifted towards your notebook, just grazing over your body.

You nodded and moved over for him to sit next to you. Fortunately, you had been practicing some charms and learned how to hide some of your drawings— specifically the ones of Newt.

To your surprise (and delight), Newt slid up next to you, your shoulders brushing against one another. You let out a shaky breath and met his eyes with a weak smile as you shoved the sketchbook into his arms. His eyes fell downwards towards the drawings, a pit forming in your stomach as he scanned over them.

 Every time he would flip the page, he would mutter a compliment to you. It was always something specific, something targeted, as if to make you aware that he was truly fascinated by your drawings.

“You captured Molly’s tuft of white fur perfectly,” he murmured, running a rough finger across the drawing of the Niffler you did. He flipped to the next page, chuckling to himself. “And the Glow Bugs are just...lovely. That’s Poppy right there, I can tell.”

You beamed at him, unable to control how he made you feel. Newt carefully set the journal down behind him as he scanned your face.

“You’re quite...you have this...well, you…” he stammered as he fiddled with his fingers.

“What is it?” you prodded, your voice no more than a whisper.

“You’re...beautiful.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as your eyes involuntarily flickered down towards his lips. Your hand crept its way over his, tracing the scars on the back of it with your thumb as you leaned in closer towards him.

“Mr. Scamander!” a familiar voice called from the top of the stairs, causing the two of you to jump apart. You both looked up to find Bunty padding down the stairs, a wide smile on her face. “Mr. Scamander! I know you said I had the day off but I wasn’t doing much today and thought I could be of some use here!”

Newt glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “It’s not a problem, Bunty, you can head home.”

“But I’m really not doing anything!”

“Well, I suppose you could help me do final bed checks and whatnot.”

Bunty nodded, scurrying around to do her tasks with an eager grin. Newt flashed you a shy smile as he stood up, his fingers still tangled in yours before he pulled away.

•••

Newt appeared out of his bedroom in the same fashion he did every morning: hurried. However, that time, he shrugged on a coat and walked towards the door of his apartment.

“Going somewhere?” you questioned.

“Yes, I’m off to the Ministry for the day. Bunty’s here if you need anything.”

And with that, Newt left.

Things had been strange since you had almost kissed no more than three days ago. Newt kept all your interactions strictly professional, meaning you were back to barely speaking again. It was frustrating, to say the least, and it made you question whether Newt really didn’t feel the same towards you, that you were coming on to him.

You had been stuck in that void of thinking for days. You would find yourself flipping through your sketchbook and landing on one of the many sketches you did of Newt, frowning as your mind began to spin expert lies to break your heart.

“(Y/N)!”

You could practically hear him calling your name.

“(Y/N)! Please!”

That was real. And it wasn’t Newt, either. It was Bunty.

You hopped off the couch, swapping your sketchbook for your Healer’s bag. You knew the voice of an injured person when you heard it and you weren’t about to take any chances that your instincts were wrong.

You made your way downstairs, finding Bunty by the Occamy nest holding her forearm, some blood seeping through her fingers. You ran up to her, wand drawn as you enchanted the necessary items to fly from your bag.

“Keep your breathing steady and your eyes on me, Bunty,” you said firmly. Bunty nodded, looking down at you with tears crowding her eyes. “Did the Occamy get you?”

“Y-yes. He got out of his nest and into another cage and grew quite a bit larger. I tried to take him back but he bit me.”

“Merlin, Bunty, that’s awful. But I can assure you that you’ll be perfectly fine. You don’t have any serious injuries that I can see.”

You poured a few droplets of an amber liquid from your bag, the skin stretching across her arm to heal the wound. She squealed in pain and you slipped your hand into hers, allowing her to squeeze it to deal with the pain.

“It’s almost over, I promise. We’ll get you to St. Mungo’s after just in case, too. You’re doing fantastic, Bunty. This potion, well, excuse my language but it hurts like a bitch.”

Bunty let out a strangled laugh, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. You patted her hand, flashing your signature Healer smile at her as you got to your feet. Your bag magically packed itself as you helped Bunty up beside you, wrapping an arm around her and apparating off to the hospital.

You had settled things with the Assistant Healer at St. Mungo’s and Bunty assured you that she didn’t need you there with her for her tests no matter how many times you protested. She simply thanked you, explained that she felt fine already, and squeezed your hand before shooing you off to apparate back to Newt’s apartment.

You arrived back in the basement, snatching your medical bag and making your way upstairs. Your footsteps slowed as you heard quiet murmurs of appraisal coming from the den, the flipping of used parchment scraping against itself.

Your sketchbook.

You darted out into the den, finding Newt back early from his trip to the Ministry with your sketchbook in hand, marveling at the pictures you drew of him. Your heart thundered inside your chest and you went light headed at the sight, your face overheating instantly.

“Did you draw these?” he asked. In an impossible sense, Newt’s tone was entirely neutral as was his expression. Nothing. You couldn’t read anything off of him.

“Give that back.” You dropped your bag and swung your wand out in an attempt to retrieve the book, only to have Newt throw a countercurse at you. You sucked in a sharp breath before trying again only for the same result to be repeated.

“You drew these,” he stated. He met your anxious eyes with furrowed brows, which only worsened the black hole growing inside you.

“There’s no point in denying it, Newt.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing your hands up and down as your own personal security blanket.

“I think that your drawings are lovely.” Your eyes snapped up to his and he cowered at his statement. “Not because it’s me, that’s not why they’re lovely. It’s because it’s you— obviously not you, it’s me— but you drew them and I’d love for you-”

Feeling rather emboldened by his rambling, you cut Newt off with a defiant statement.

“I like you.”

Newt was silent.

You continued.

“A lot, actually.” You ran a hand through your hair with a wry laugh. “A stupid amount, really. I can’t get you out of my head in a maddening sort of way. And I know that you’re saying you like the drawings but I understand if you’re lying. I think I’d be rather perturbed if I found a journal full of my face, too.”

“Don’t say that,” he muttered with a dismal shake of his head.

“It’s true! It’s odd!”

“No, please don’t say that. It’s not.” With every declaration, Newt’s voice got a little louder

“Why-”

“Because I fancy you!” he shouted, leaving you in a stunned silence. “Sorry.”

You blinked in confusion. Newt fancied you. Newt fancied you. You repeated it over and over again in your head, trying to make sense of his foreign words. You met his worried gaze and whispered to confirm your suspicions, “You fancy me?”

“I-I do.” He laughed to himself, scuffing his foot against the floor. “You’re beautiful and...and witty, and intelligent, and you have this intense gaze like a crow, and it’s just all beautiful. You’re beautiful.” His words tumbled from his mouth like he didn’t have enough time in the world to tell you how he truly felt.

If Newt was going to act like there was no time left, then you were, too. Your wand fell from your loosened grasp as you ran up to him, falling into a deep kiss. His hands hovered in the air for a moment before he embraced you, holding you as tight to his body as he could so his lips could still be connected to yours.

You pulled away, gasping for air as he rested his forehead against yours. He reached a calloused thumb up to rub over your bottom lip before venturing up to your cheekbone.

Seems as if he did need a Healer after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

general taglist:  @pandaxnienke @lunalovecroft @for-bebbanburg

[bugsy-maria]

Dance Away (Newt Scamander)

I walked through the archway into the ballroom that hosted a party that started 30 minutes before. I patted down my rose gold, sleeveless flounced dress. I pulled the neck line up a bit as I made my way to the bar on the side of the room. the ball was held as a reunion of the class of 1915.

I grab a fire whisky and take it, I had to forget the meaning I was in. I looked around the room at the stupid people I forgot about.

I placed my glass back on the bar, watching as a bottle of fire whisky poured itself like magic. I heard the clicks of heels hitting the ground and music being played by a band near the back of the room. I didn't realize that I was well over 10 shots of fire whisky till I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"You're going to drink the whole bottle at that speed you know." I turn to look and see the adorable auburn hair I forgot about.

"Believe me Mr. Scamander if you had my day you would too," I smirk, staring into his hazel eyes that got lost every day for 6 years.

"Why don't you tell me about it then." he sat on a stool and smiled that damn smile that gives me butterflies and makes my knees weak. I sat on the stool next to him.

"Well, I went to a meeting,"

"You're a businesswoman?" he asked with wide eyes.

"What you don't think I can be a businesswoman?" I looked at him, acting surprised and hurt.

"Of course I do it's just that you aren't the type to want to go to meetings or do paperwork." he rubbed the back of his neck, his curls blocking his eyes as he looked down.

"I'm only joking Mr. Scamander, I know what you meant. but if you must know, I'm not. it was more of a gathering of sorts. like going to a church, so a gather of people that believe the same things as you." I circled the empty glass on the bar.

"And what would that be."

"It's a controversial topic you know," I leaned onto my palm.

"And that is...?" he persisted.

"Witches and wizards being in hiding." he looked at me, his interest instantly peaked. "It's just that, we have this amazing power to make beauty happen with the flick of a wrist but god forbid we do it in public. I mean if we did then we would be treated like weapons or some types of freaks in a circus, all because of how we were born." I moved my hands in the air as I ranted. "Now don't get me wrong," I turned to him to see some mixture of worry or fear in his eyes, "I'm not saying we should kill the muggles like you might have heard from the papers I'm just saying that it would be nice to not hide what makes us special is all. I'm tired of hiding all because if I didn't I wouldn't be treated like a human."

"You know that they aren't all that bad right?" I heard him speak up from his silence.

"I know but-"

"How about we dance." he got up and holds out his hand, it was one that I graciously take with a smile. as he leads me to the floor I can't help but feel like a kid again. this had always been one of my fantasies deep down, though I would never have admitted it.

he puts his hand on my waist and we move to the music, following the rhythm of the music while moving in sync with everyone else in the room dancing.

"If they did find out about us most would lose their jobs." he looked me in the eyes, "And they made this music and this dance. they just don't like things that are different is all." he pulls me closer, leaning his chin on the top of my head.

"I know I'm just tired," I mumbled into his chest. I hate that he is right but deep down I knew this. I have to tell him about the meeting, preferably tonight, but I don't want this moment to end. we danced for a few more songs before we stopped.

"I missed this Mr. Scamander." I walk through the doors on the balcony, following him.

"We're friends you know, you can just call me Newt." he chuckles looking over the balcony.

"I don't think you'll think that once I tell you though." I sigh quietly.

"Tell me what?" he looked over his shoulder curiously, I walk over to him and lean back against the rail.

"Promise you won't be mad."

"(Y/N) what is it?" he looked worried now.

"That meeting, the one I told you about earlier," I paused before continuing, "It was one of Grindelwald's meetings, and I know that you read about it in the papers. and I regret joining but  I can't leave now. please understand that if I leave he will kill me." I looked at him, tears brimming my eyes the more I think about him leaving me again. he seemed scared and disappointed. he stood up straight and stared me in the eyes almost like he is looking at me in the soul.

"Are you still on their side?" his voice doesn't sound the same as before, this time it was dark and deep. I only heard this voice from him once, when he was mad at me before he left me at Hogwarts.

"Of course not, I didn't join because of the killing muggles part either, he fed me lies that seemed too good to be true."

"And they were?"

"Newt they were about you." I took him back in the eye, I see curiosity flash across before they go back to their previous hardened glare.

"About?"

"You really want to know?" I mimic his arms and cross them too.

"Yes."

"He said that if I joined you would like me back. that you would be safe and we could live happily ever after with no worries of hiding who we are from the rest of the world. but I swear he never told me anything about the genocide he was planning." a tear or two escaping my eyes. his arms slump to his side, and in two strides he's by my side holding me in his arms.

"It's ok." he once again pushes my head into his chest. more tears fall but the beating of his heart calms me down.

"I don't want to die Newt." my voice cracks.

"You won't, I'll make sure you won't." he kisses the top of my head, swaying me in his arms. just the two of us under the stars like I always dreamed of.

[knightsimp]

Just a Little Bit of Blood

Pairing: Vampire!Percival Graves x Reader

Summery: Percival comes home late at night, injured. He needs a little blood to be able to heal.

Genre: Tooth-rotting Fluff, but spicy tooth-rotting fluff.

Word Count: 1600+

Date Posted: February 22, 2021

Warning: Definitely spicy (no actual smut in this, but it alludes to it and is still pretty suggestive), blood talk

Note: Oh god I have never posted any of my suggestive pieces. We were talking about Colin Farrell in Fright Night (2011) and this happened.  

Requested by: @sugarbloomart​

Percival landed in his apartment, apparating from the MACUSA building. It was late at night, around an hour past midnight. The bustling city was starting to go quiet, though New York never seems to go completely quiet. Percival took off his coat, hanging on the coat hanger near the front door. He pulled off his tie and waistcoat and placed them on the dining table. He did the same thing with his belt.

The blood from the injury on his side had stained his white dress shirt. When he moved, it felt like pins and needles. The man had gotten injured during a mission with a trainee. This trainee had a lot of promise but clearly needed more experience. Unfortunately, Percival paid the price of that inexperience with getting injured.

Percival getting hurt was always a concern. He did not heal like any other human wizard. 

“Percival?” Percival looked towards the bedroom door, where (Y/N) was standing. Clearly, his return had woken her up.

Her hair was tossed from whatever sleeping she had already done. She was only wearing a pair of underwear and one of Percival’s dress shirts. Simply said, she was not put together in the slightest.

But to him, she was quite the sight.

(Y/N)’s bare feet did not make a sound on the dark, hardwood floor as she approached him. 

“You’re late.” She stated, putting two hands on his chest and dragging them to his shoulders. 

“I know, darling.” He gently held her left wrist. He watched as her eyes slowly wandered to his injury. 

“Percival!” She gave light pressure to the wound, making him hiss from the sharp pain. “Is this why you are so late to come home?”

“Yes.” He grumbled, running his hand through his hair. “The boy has potential, but...” Percival rubbed her arms, up and down. “I must ask something of you.” (Y/N) is quick to agree, knowing what he is asking of her. 

“You need blood, right?” She asked, clarifying.

“Yes.” Percival brushed a little bit of her hair out of her face. “The blood supplements won’t help here.” The blood supplements were just that; they were what Percival can take instead of hunting and taking blood from humans and survive off of that. However, they were not enough for him to heal. While he can heal rapidly, he could not heal at all without real blood. If he were to let an injury go unattended long enough, he would bleed out, regardless of any medical treatment. There was already an anti-wizard growing sentiment growing and a vampire getting spotted would not make matters better. 

She sat on the kitchen island, pushing her hair away from the left side of her neck. 

“Come on.” She encouraged. Percival smiled, seeing how ready she was for him to take blood from her when he needed it. He stood in between her legs, hands instinctively on her waist.

“As much as I appreciate your kindness, my dear, taking from your neck will be too visible. We both must go into work tomorrow.” (Y/N) hummed, looking off to the side.

“I guess you’re right.” Percival took her left wrist, gently rubbing his thumb over the visible veins. She looked back at him, staring into his dark eyes. 

“You’re wrist is another viable area for taking blood.” He suggested. “Not an area you are used to but would make for another spot.” (Y/N) shook her head.

“If secrecy is your concern, my wrists will seem even more suspicious if someone notices. The neck is something more explainable, but the wrist would asking to be found out.” She thought for a moment. “My thigh is always an option.”

“As much as I do love getting in between your legs like that, you don’t need to be limping or in any pain when you go to work.” Now, this was getting frustrating. What would be an area that Percival can take from that would not hinder her as an auror or risk Percival’s true nature as a vampire from being found out? 

“What about my chest?” She inquired. “It would be under my clothes and it is not an area that is very mobile during the day.”

“It is not an area that will produce a lot of blood, nor will it be comfortable for you.” Percival gently held onto (Y/N) arm, sliding his hand down to meet hers. 

“Well, how much blood do you need for an injury like that?” She gestured to his injured waist.

“Not a lot.”

“Then, let’s do it!” Percival seemed hesitant. “Percival, it is our best option right now.” He takes her cheek in her hand, lips close, and his other hand holding her thigh.

“Are you sure?” He whispered. “This will not be pleasant and I will need to expose you for a moment.” She nodded, still sleepy.

“We’re both adults. It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.”

He popped a couple of buttons on the shirt and pushed the left side of the shirt down her shoulder, just exposing the top of her breast. Of course, she was not wearing a bra underneath.  His hands slithered on her body; one on the side of her neck, his thumb under her ear, and the other holding her ribs, just under the breast he was about to take blood from, thumb massaging the side of her breast. His lips were so close to her body.

“Are you ready, darling?” She nodded, biting her lip to prepare for the pinch. When he went in just above her breast, she realized what he meant when he said this was not going to be pleasant. The muscle in the chest is tight, making it painful. The puncture was not pleasant, but otherwise doable given the circumstance.

Oh, but the sounds Percival was making. 

To get whatever blood he could from the area, he was sucking on her skin hard. The sounds he was making were absolutely sinful. Not only were the sounds slightly wet, but he was also panting slightly. And the occasional grumble from his throat came through. If he was not trying to get blood to heal his wound, this moment would have taken a very different turn. It was enough for (Y/N) to make a couple of noises of her own which were not from the pain. 

Once he was done, he pulled away. Both of them were breathing heavily. Blood had dripped from the wound on her chest to the once-pristine dress shirt she wore. 

“Percy, you’re shirt.” She whined, feeling a little lightheaded.

“It’s okay.” He went to her chest once more, licking off the dripping blood from her skin using the flat of his tongue. He put the hand which was sitting on her side on the side of her neck with his other hand. She leaned in, letting her forehead rest on his. The red around his mouth did not scare her in the slightest. No one spoke, but it was very clear how thankful Percival was.

He wrapped her legs around his waist before picking her up. She loosely put her arms around his shoulders, unable to cling on harder. Percival carried her to their bathroom, setting her in the bathtub and sitting on the closed toilet seat. He took his time when stripping her of her chosen nightwear, gingerly unbuttoning the shirt completely and pulling her panties off from under her. 

When she was completely naked, he took the time to strip himself. In all honesty, he was ready for the shower after a long day. When he shrugged off his shirt, he saw the tail-end of his injury rapidly healing. He looked down to (Y/N) only to see her smiling up at him, eyes on the verge of closing. She was happy that he was no longer injured and that was all that mattered. 

He held her up as warm water from the showerhead poured onto them, each movement of his hands so gentle and full of adoration. One hand rested on her back and the other held her head to his chest, keeping her upright. The blood on both of them was washed off and went down the drain. As much as they both wanted to stay in the moment, (Y/N) was slowly falling back asleep and the slight loss of blood was not helping. 

Percival sat her on the bed, putting a cut-out J&J band-aid onto her chest before dressing her in one of her more comfortable nightgowns. It was not until she was lying comfortably on her side of the bed, duvet over her, when he started getting dressed for bed.

He dragged his feet back to the bathroom to freshen up before joining her. 

As he was brushing his teeth, he caught a glimpse of those slightly elongated teeth of his. The red had slightly stained his teeth, but a quick brushing washed it away rather quickly. 

He rinsed his mouth out completely before looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

For years, Percival thought of himself as a monster. He never found someone, in all his years, who was as accepting as the beautiful woman currently in his bedroom. Sure, he should have told her earlier than he did in their relationship, but even then she was so accepting of him. 

He pursed his lips, still tasting her blood in the back of his throat. Like her, it was sweet. 

Before returning to the bedroom, he drank a glass of water to wash down anything that was left. (Y/N) was already fast asleep when he laid down on the plush mattress. Facing her and entangling his legs with hers, he gently slid his knuckles over her cheek before pulling her into his chest. 

Moments like this, he almost felt human again.

[statticscribbles]

Hidden Alpha

Summary: Newt/Reader; a/b/o dynamics, Newt is an Alpha but prefers to keep it hidden

Some part of you isn’t surprised; it made sense the more you thought about it. Newt Scamander was an Alpha; it’s how he was able to keep so many different creatures in order under the same small area; they were his pack and he was their Alpha. It was why, despite how meek most people described him as they always seemed to respect him a little too much for him to be written off as the Beta that was marked on the forms he presented. Queenie had told Tina that they were forged; you knew before either of them had said anything as you’d help him get them.

You hadn’t told him why you knew the forger; you figured he assumed it was something to do with you having trips back and forth overseas and smuggling a few creatures of your own. You don’t argue with him. You don’t notice the way he keeps you closer to him than the others, despite only having been traveling with him for months; it feels like you’ve known each other for years. While you weren’t close at Hogwarts, you blamed it on your shyness and the fact you were both hufflepuffs.

You’re late for the tea he invited you to; he’d wanted you to meet his friends visiting from America and you’d been more than excited to go; of course Theseus decided to come with you; insisting his brother would be fine with it. When you show up to the place Tina and Queenie are staying in; trailing behind sputtering apologies about being late; Queenie grins at you and Newt’s hand nudges you in the door as he glares at Theseus. You catch when Tina goes to shake your hand; and Theseus moves out of the way; his hands brushing on your back; Newt steps backward and Queenie’s eyes light up as she smiles. When you go to shake her hand she pulls you into a hug winking and you catch Newt’s arms wrapping around himself.

“Didn’t you have something to show him?” Theseus reminds you and you grin almost running into Newt when you pull your case up.

“You got a case like mine?” He grins and you nod.

“Yes but that’s not what I wanted to show you; well I should tell you first.” You nod sitting back down at the table hiding your burning face at the fact you almost crashed into him.

“So I was cutting through the back alley’s to try to find, well it doesn’t matter why.” You cut yourself off avoiding talking about the forger and the suppresant potions you buy from him; instead chewing your lip as if to remember something.

“Either way this caught my eye.” You gesture to the shimmering bangle that’s woven with gold and silver.

“And just as I was about to get it Victor rushes in; grabs it from my hand and then I have to chase him over three more streets until he gives it back!” You grin and Queenie laughs. Newt looks suddenly very upset.

“Victor?” Theseus questions and you nod.

“Yes; here.” You unlatch your case and pull the half asleep niffler out.

“He’s blind; but can still sense shiny things!” You hold Victor out and he yawns before his paws twist to try to grab the bracelet.

“Oh wow.” Newt breathes looking far less upset.

“You know what that means right?” You bounce slightly unable to wait as you answer your own question.

“Nifflers don’t just use sight to find items! They probably use smell or some sort of  specialized sensors!” You grin and Newt beams back. You pat Victor on the head and Newt offers his hands out Victor snaps and hisses slightly.

“Oh; Victor don’t be mean.” You scold softly and Victor curls onto your lap.

“He must not be comfortable with your smell; he doesn’t like anyone besides me; if it helps.” You add as Newt deflates slightly.

“Oh! Hold on; sorry; may I?” You offer your hand out to Newt and he nods reaching forward. You try your best to block out the thoughts of what you’re about to do; and you quickly brush the scent gland on your wrist over Newts arm, nudging Victor who moves forward letting Newt’s hand now brush his fur. Newt grins and you smile back letting him pet Victor who still sits on your lap. You try your best to fight off a yawn but fail Tina offering you a bed to stay the night.

“It’ll just be in there with Newt; if that’s alright.” She smiles and you nod. Whenever you’d traveled with him you’d both always made sure to have beds as far away as possible; to avoid any awkwardness. You find it ironic that staying with his friends is when you’re forced to sleep next to each other. You try your best to figure out why you’re so tired; you hadn’t been out or up late; there was no reason for you to feel so exhausted beyond your heat; but you knew that wouldn’t be happening due to the suppression potion you’d taken earlier. You try your best not to squirm too much when you start to feel hot; you close your eyes for a moment and before you know it Queenie is muttering to Tina who’s awkwardly trying to convince Newt to stay in his case.

“It’s okay Tina; I can just go back to the hotel; it’s no problem if Theseus walks with me anyways; no one’s going to bother and Alpha and Omega walking to a hotel.” You know what’s happening; you’ve caught on that the suppression potion was a fake; probably nothing more that flavoured water or a pep-up potion.

“Y/N; it’s fine stay here. We can talk to Newt when he comes back up.”

“Back up?”

“He bolted down there right after Tina said you were an Omega; seems like he had no idea.” Queenie smiles and you eye the case as it opens once more.

“Y/N can stay in my case. I charmed it so you won’t be able to get out until your heat fades. It’s safer. Besides all the creatures like you; you’ll be safe, they won’t let anyone hurt you.” You nod stumbling down the stairs to grin at the creatures.

“Hey guys; I’m sorry I’m not Newt I’ll start feeding you in a sec.”

“They’ve already been fed Y/N!”

“They deserve treats!” You shout back and Newt bites his lip to stop from smiling.

“You went down there cause it's far away from me; so I couldn’t read your mind.” Queenie grins and him and Newt sighs.

“You could just tell her.” Theseus comments and Newt turns to him.

“I’m amazed she hasn’t noticed your jealousy yet; you almost shoved me out the door when I walked in.” He grins and Newt glares shrugging.

“Do you remember when I met her? You had to physically step away because you wanted to; well Merlin knows what you wanted to do, but I was a problem in that equation.” Newt glares and keeps his eyes down.

“I just wanted you to step back.” He mutters and Theseus grins.

“You didn’t want me near her, why?” Newt doesn’t say anything turning away.

“It’s odd; you wanting an omega. Especially one like that.” Theseus says it to goad Newt. He’s about to respond when you climb halfway out of the suitcase.

“Newt; I thought you might want your coat.” You offer it out and he nods in thanks. Theseus tries his best to not grin in triumph. Newt blinks for a moment swallowing before Queenie grins.

“Newt just tell her how you feel honey. It’ll make everything easier.”

“I don’t need to- bugger.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I left my wand down there.”

“You can get it when she’s sleeping; or Queenie can grab it.” Tina assures and Newt nods, folding his jacket over the chair.

-It’s almost midnight; you feed the creatures a few extra treats, ignoring the scolding you’re probably going to get from Newt when he returns and curl into the makeshift bed he uses when he stays down in the case. You try your best not to make any noise when you can hear footsteps; curling further into his scent from the bed and trying to ignore how your heat makes every part of you ache.

“Y/N?” Newt’s voice is softer than you’ve heard and you don’t respond.

“There it is.” You hear him mumble as he no doubt picks his wand up from the workbench.

“Hey Dougal; where’s Y/N? She doing okay? Are you guys taking care of her?” You can hear him talking to the other creatures.

“Where’s the Niffler; he didn’t.” Newt doesn’t finish instead turning and walking over to the bed where you know the niffler has settled next to your stomach.

“How beautiful.” He sighs and you shift in the bed pretending to be asleep. You can feel his hand hovering over your face and his fingers run through your hair before he pulls away.

“You guys keep her safe okay?” He repeats sighing sadly as he moves; you make sure he’s almost up the stairs before you pretend to wake whining. You can hear him stop moving and suck in a breath.

“Newt.” You can hear Theseus’ voice and Newt sighs once more.

“You know you wouldn’t forgive yourself.” Theseus repeats and you furrow your brow trying to keep quiet as you follow Newt on the stairs; holding the drowsy niffler to your chest protectively.

“Newt?” you question and he trips slightly on the stairs running back up and slamming the case closed. You blink up at the doorway in the darkness.

“Oh, I guess he doesn’t want me then.” You try your best not to sniffle to the niffler who then scrambles away as you place him on the bed. The niffler returns offering you a shimmering ring. You thank him pulling the ring towards you before offering it back out. The niffler squeaks and you put the ring on; it makes a pleased sound and settles next to you as you return to the bed; ignoring the embarrassment as you press your face into Newt’s scent and all but roll around in it.

You wake up to Queenie laughing and you're about to let her know you’re awake but she retreats to the stairs.

“NEWT!” She hisses up and you can hear his footsteps before his voice fills your ears.

“What’s wrong did something happen? Did one of the- Queenie; if you don’t tell me what happened…” he trails off and you can hear him suppress a laugh.

“Well at least the niffler likes her.” He sighs and you can feel his fingers softly touching you; moving something off of your arm You open your eyes and shift slightly; his hand going from close to your neck to lower almost at your chest.

“Sorry.” He jumps back moving towards the stairs and Queenie tries her best to stop staring as Newt runs up them.

“Y/N. it appears the niffler has taken a shine to you; literally.” She grins pulling off a few spare trinkets that the niffler had covered you with.

“Was that Newt?” You ask and Queenie nods.

“He doesn’t hate you sweetheart; he’s just never been around an omega during heat. He wants to help but he doesn’t know how.”

“Oh.” Is all you say but Queenie gives you a look and then sighs.

“We’re all going out in an hour; there’s a meeting at the MCUSA and Theseus managed to convince Newt to leave the case here; considering you’re in it; you’re welcome to stretch your legs once we leave; or at least make yourself a cup of tea or lunch in a proper kitchen.” She nods and you thank her, turning your attention to where the pile of jewels and shimmering objects rests.

“Okay; now then little niffler; these are yours. You can take them back.” You offer a necklace out and the niffler grips it in his hands turning it over and placing it in his pouch.

“You know what I love about Omega’s the most?” Newt cringes at the Alpha who’s been droning on and on.

“What?” Queenie rolls her eyes and Newt  tries his best to ignore the answer from the alpha.

“They’re just so helpless when they’re in heat; you can do anything to ‘em and they’ll thank you. You should try it next time you find one; I’m sure you meet dozens on your travels.” He grins and Newt sighs turning back to walk over to Theseus.

“Why am I here.”

“Because we can’t trust you with your case.” Theseus deadpans and sighs making his way over to Tina who’s talking to Queenie. Newt watches them for another moment before deciding to head back to the apartment.

He’s apparated back into the bedroom, surprised to see the case’s lid is still shut. He makes his way into the kitchen for a cup of tea; staring at the scene before him.

“Pickett sweetheart, no.” You sigh plucking the bowtruckle from where he tries to plait your hair.

“It’s going to get knots in it. Can I just make my tea in peace; I swear I’ll give you a full half of a biscuit; I won’t tell Newt anything.” Pickett squeaks back and you pout.

“Okay that’s not fair; me being in love with him and you getting half a biscuit are not the same thing at all! Either way I’ve kept that well enough; Queenie is the only person who knows; and she won’t say anything because she knows that Newt doesn’t like being outed as an Alpha.” You sigh confused when you hear a thump in the bedroom.

“Oh, I hope Dougal didn’t get out.”

“Dougal! Please don’t be- Oh. Hey Newt.” You cough awkwardly and Newt grins from where he’s sitting on the bed. He looks slightly flushed and you wonder how fast he apparated back to the house.

“Sorry.” He looks down at the ground and you shake your head.

“I was just making tea; I’ll go back down now, I just fed everyone.”

“Is Pickett with you?”

“Yes, he’s trying to plait my hair; he’s mostly just tying it in loops. Is everyone else back?”

“No, just me.”

“Were you worried about your creatures in the case?”

“Yes; I was worried about everyone; plus the conversation was getting hard to listen to.”

“Were they insulting everyone?” You frown, gesturing to the case while Pickett is peaking out from your shoulder.

“Mostly you. Well all Omega’s but it bothered me.” He wrinkles his nose and you shrug.

“It’s okay Newt; I’m sure I’ve heard worse anyways. I should get back in the case; just in case anyone comes in.” You grin a little and nod opening the case but hesitating.

“Pickett misses you.” You hold Pickett out who climbs over to Newt’s hand and up his shoulder.

“Y/N. Are you wearing my shirt?” His voice is the same as the ones he uses for his creatures.

“Yes.” You can hear the way his breath hitches as you retreat back to the case trying to avoid thinking about how flushed his face was and how pleased he looked.

“Newt are you back here?” Theseus’ voice floats down the stairs after you and you can hear Newt cough awkwardly.

“Yes the conversation was boring.”

“Where’s Y/N.”

“In the case; Pickett decided to keep me company for now.” You don’t hear Theseus’ response but you can hear Queenie and Tina entering and then Queenie’s movements towards the case.

“Y/N. Are you okay?”

 “Yes?” You peer from just under the case’s lid and she sighs.

“Please stop. The last thing I want is to hear whatever his thoughts are about that.” She shakes her head and turns back to Newt relieved that the only main thought in his head seems to be a repeat of the word mine.

You don’t ask where everyone is; you’d left your wand upstairs when you’d made tea and while you don’t need it, the security it provides is nice. You know the rest of the day will end up with you being unable to do much more than whine and fail to ignore the heat coursing through your own body. You stagger up cringing at how dizzy you are; you wonder how long it’s been since you’ve had an actual heat and you can’t remember with how everything is spinning. You stumble again crashing against the workbench and hiss curling into a ball debating if it’s even worth going back to the bed or if you can just sleep here.

“Y/N?” You lift your head when you can hear Queenie calling on the stairs.

“I’m okay.” You mumble before you can see her shoes.

“You fell; and you’re saying you’re okay?”

“I tripped over the feed bucket. That’s all.” You assure and she smirks.

“So if I call Newt down here?”

“I fell over the feed bucket.” You repeat and she nods.

“Why were you getting out of bed, I was about to bring you some breakfast.”

“I forgot my wand upstairs yesterday when I went to get tea.”

“Newt. Can you get y/n’s wand from the table.”

“Here.” Newts halfway down the stairs when Queenie’s nose wrinkles and you watch as newt sets the wand on the bench.

“No it’s fine she fell over the feed bucket.” You grin at him a little and he offers a hand out, pulling you up and hovering his other hand around your waist.

You try your best not to think about him; about how his hands felt around yours. You try your best to block out how easily he pulled you up; how relieved he had looked when you were okay.You try your best to push all these thoughts out of your head but you just curl closer to the coat he’d left on his bed trying your best to keep your hands from wandering lower; you chastise yourself by reminding yourself he’s upstairs and you’re in his bed; that he’ll smell you on everything but that just makes you ache for that moment. You bit your lip and try to stop from whining but you fail; it’s only half a whine, a squeak really but it rouses Pickett who had been put on babysitting duty and you try to assure him you’re okay but he scrambles up the steps. You’re not sure who you’d rather him get but you wait until you hear footsteps.

“Pickett.” You hiss slightly when he climbs on you. You roll from where you’d been facing the wall buried in Newts coat to come face to face with Newt himself. You don’t breathe just watching Newt. His eyes look almost black and you’re not sure why he’s being so still.

“You okay?” Newt asks and you shake your head; his hand brushing your hair nervously.

“Can I help?” You just nod reaching forward to press your nose into his neck. You don’t care how desperate you sound when you scent him; or how the rest of your body seems to coil around him as he leans over you.

“Y/N; I don’t know if you really want this love; I can’t-“ He starts but you whine and run your tongue over his neck. You can hear his breath hitch and you’re expecting to be pushed back on the bed but instead you feel yourself being pulled closer.

Support My Writing?

[myriadimagines]

[x] // requester: anonymous // request here

IMAGINE: NEWT, YOUR BOYFRIEND, GIVING YOU A BABY NIFFLER AS A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 

“It seems your gift may have escaped,” Newt lets out a nervous chuckle as you can hear objects crashing in the next room. Your eyebrows furrow, and you follow Newt as he rushes into the room. The both of you peek inside to see a baby Niffler on the table, clutching a necklace. You snort at the scene, before your eyes widen at the realisation.

“Wait, is this my gift?” you can barely bite back your excited grin, and Newt nods, bashfully flashing you a smile. You let out a delighted laugh, throwing your arms around Newt and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Oh, I love him!”

[valkyriepirate]

Newt Scamander x Reader One Shot- Sweet Calamity

Summary: You’re a Fifth Year at Hogwarts, peacefully reading in your common room one night. The peace is disturbed when a strange creature begins wreaking havoc, accompanied by one Newt Scamander. 

Warnings: none- just fluff! :)

Word count: 2.9k words

A/N: House neutral; (Y/H) = Your house; it’s somewhat implied that Newt and the reader aren’t in the same house, so apologies to all you lovely Hufflepuffs out there!

#2- Sweet Calamity

A cool wind ruffled the pages of your book, sending a ripple of goosebumps across the bare skin of your legs. You were so deeply enmeshed in the story that you hardly noticed it, but you curled up tighter, knees pressed to your chest. Autumn had arrived at Hogwarts, and it seemed as if the ancient stone walls soaked up the chill in the air and stubbornly refused to warm. Even in your house common room where you were now, sitting by the crackling fireplace, you could feel the cold emanating off the glass windowpanes.  

The (Y/H) common room was strangely vacant for a Sunday night. Usually by this time everyone had come back from their weekend Hogsmeade trips to get ready for bed. Curfew was two hours prior midnight, and no one wanted to be caught outside the dorms after then- at least, not if they wanted to avoid the embarrassment of a deduction to their house points. Yet tonight there were none of your fellow house members about finishing homework or practicing spells. It was just you and your book, and you reveled in the blissful quiet.  

The wind fluttered the pages of your book again, stronger this time. Briefly you wondered if the (Y/H) ghost was teasing you. When another impellent gust caused you to lose your place in the book, you looked up, bewildered. One of the windowpanes high on the wall behind you was cracked open, swinging on frosted hinges.  

Sighing, you pulled out your wand and whispered, “Colloportus.” The window squeaked shut, sealing out the pestering wind that threatened to further interrupt your reading. You settled back into the story, letting the words bring your imagination rushing over you like the first snowfall of winter, irenic and picturesque. That is, until something hard and heavy fell on top of your head and scared the gulping galleons out of you.  

You yelped and tumbled off the couch. You blinked at the object, startled. It was a large, leather-bound tome- one of the O.W.L study textbooks. You gaped up at the bookshelf behind the couch, puzzled and perhaps the slightest bit afraid. You’d never encountered one of the Hogwarts ghosts face-to-face, and you weren’t entirely sure what the proper reaction to one would be.  

Gripping your wand in one hand and your book in the other, you said in the most commanding voice possible, “Whatever prank you’re trying to pull on me, it isn’t funny, so cut it out.”

Your voice echoed through the common room only to be met with silence. After a minute or two you tentatively sat down on the couch again. You had hardly reopened your book when another tome hit you directly on the shoulder.  

“Ow! What the-?!” You glanced above to see a small creature rummaging about the bookshelves. It had a pinkish pallor to its skin, and your first thought was that it was one of those hairless rats. But Hogwarts was far too magical to have ordinary creatures like rats running around.  

The creature pushed book after book off the shelves, sending them plummeting to the couch. You were contemplating whether you should wait for one of your house mates to capture it when the door to the common room cracked open and a boy with a ruddy mop of hair peeked in.  

He noticed you first. Instantly you felt heat creep across your cheeks. It was Newt Scamander, the Hufflepuff boy from your Potions class. He had been in your class since Second Year, but you had only spoken to him a couple of times. Yet even so you had built up a tiny crush on him over the years. Everyone knew him for his affinity for magical creatures and his desire to study magizoology, and suddenly his appearance made the presence of the rat creature make much more sense.  

“Hey,” you called. “Um- there’s a creature in here, I-I don’t know if it’s yours?”

He didn’t speak for a minute, just stood there like a deer frozen in headlights as if he were trapped in the threshold of the door. Finally he said in a quiet voice, “I’m not really supposed to be here.”  

The creature squeaked and chucked off the final book. It toppled sideways and knocked over one of the antique lamps, which plunged off the bookshelf and shattered with a CRASH!  

You cringed, hoping the hallway prefect hadn’t been nearby to hear. “For the record, I don’t think this thing is supposed to be here either.”

Newt, seeming to nullify his indecision, stepped into the common room and shut the door behind him. His yellow-and-black striped Hufflepuff House scarf was thrown askew across his shoulders, as if he���d been running and it had come undone. “It’s a Murtlap.”

“Oh.” You watched as the creature scurried along the shelves and hopped on top of the fireplace, sniffing the bricks. In this light you could see the anemone-like growth on its back, giving it the appearance of a porcupine and a naked hamster rolled into one. “Is it yours?”

“I’ve been doing research on his species. He was wounded on the shores of the Great Lake.” The Murtlap let loose a shrill scream like a battle cry and began trying to tear the (Y/H) crest from where it hung above the fireplace.

“He doesn’t seem wounded now,” you noted.

“Oh no.” Newt moved towards the fireplace, holding out his hand. “Come on now Murry, you sour rodent.”

Murry the Murtlap continued to gnaw the crest more viciously, ignoring Newt Scamander.

“I don’t think he liked that,” you said.  

Newt propped his foot on the fire grate and hoisted himself onto the ledge. He reached out and snatched the Murtlap, tugging him away from the crest. But the fabric was obdurately ensnared in the creature’s teeth, and you could hear it begin to tear. Before you could shout for Newt to stop, he pulled on the Murtlap again and the (Y/H) House crest ripped free of the wall. Newt, the Murtlap, and the crest all came tumbling to the floor.  

“Newt!” you cried, pushing the crest off him. As soon as you did, the Murtlap sprang free and lunged directly for your face, a whirlwind of snapping teeth and prickly claws. You shrieked and attempted to grab it, but it was scrambling over your head and shoulders, around your torso, down to your knees, and up again. Newt leaped up from the floor and came to save you, snatching at the Murtlap to no avail. At last it pounced on him and, taking his scarf in its teeth, ran down his leg and bolted across the floor.  

“How did he get loose?” you demanded as you and Newt raced after it.  

“Um, well, he’s a slippery one, as you can see,” he paused at the foot of another bookcase, craning his head up as the Murtlap hastily climbed to the top, Newt’s scarf in tow. “I was doing abstract drawings and he grew tired of sitting still.”

You waved your wand. “Can’t we use any spells?”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Newt said. “Or destroy any more of your common room.”  

“What about potions? One of the non-combative ones Professor Wenlock taught us?”

Newt glanced at you, then immediately downcast his eyes. “I didn’t realize you knew we were in the same class.”  

“Of course.” We’ve been in the same class together for three years, you thought, but added nothing. Suddenly something was tossed by your head and you ducked. You looked down in horror to see the clay model of Hogwarts that your house leader had won points for was splintered at your feet.  

“Oh no, no, no, no, no,” you bent down, gathering the pieces. You quickly used a repairo spell to put it back together, but there was no disguising the hairline cracks that ran along the towers.  

“Murry, that’s it. No fish for two weeks!” Newt scolded.  

You carefully placed the model on a nearby table, shaking your head in dismay. Your house leader would murder you if they ever found out about this.  

When you turned around again, Newt was attempting to scale the bookshelves, his feet balancing precariously on the wooden boards.

“What are you doing?” you said incredulously.  

“It’s all right, I’ve almost got him...” He was a good six feet off the ground but still too far to reach the Murtlap, which had stopped to admire his ascent.  

“That’s not a good idea, Newt,” you cautioned, moving closer lest he fell.  

He didn’t reply. His focus was intense, but not quite enough, for when he stepped up to the next shelf, the pressure on the board caved in and it snapped.  

You screamed as Newt fell, breaking every bone in his body upon impact with the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was dead, dead, dead-

“(Y/N)?” His voice led you to pry open your eyes, shaking off the image. You hadn’t realized you’d squeezed them shut. You sighed in relief when you saw Newt dangling from the bookshelf, still intact. Then you started. Newt was dangling from the bookshelf!

Fervently, your gaze swept the room for something you could use to help him. At the far end of the common room, you spotted the rolling ladder students used to reach the top shelves. You wanted to smack your face in frustration.  

“Hold on!” You ran to the end of the room and swung onto the ladder. With one foot, you gave a strong push off the shelf and went flying. You and your house mates had done this countless times in a competitive game where you tried to grab as many books of a certain color off the shelves as possible. Yet tonight it was more like a game of Catch the Murtlap.

You corralled the wood panels to slow your speed and held out your hand to Newt. “Grab my hand!”

He looked over, eyes wide, and took your hand. Releasing the board made him swing and he collided with you on the ladder. His momentum sent it rolling, leaving you two clutching at each other to keep from falling. When it stopped, you realized you were gripping his arms hard enough to be painful.  

“Are you okay?” you asked, breathless.  

“Yes,” he mumbled, his ears turning red. He wouldn’t look you in the eye, but his stare had found its way to your lips instead. “Yes. Are-are you?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

An awkward silence ensued. You were suddenly aware of how close you two were- your knees touching, your arms pressed against each other’s. Your heart was smattering in your chest; if it was deafening to you, you quailed at what Newt could hear. This close, you could see the hazel flecks in his green eyes, like the light of sunset seeping through a forest canopy.  

A strange noise ripped through the air. You and Newt looked up. Murry had torn one of the metal wheels from the ladder and spat it down at you. You tucked in your head at the same time as Newt and you bonked your skull on his.  

“Ow,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead.

“Sorry,” Newt blushed deeper.  

Murry was making rapid work on the other wheel, gnawing at it with surprisingly robust teeth. Your stomach dipped when you realized what would happen if he tore it off. You raised your wand. “Newt, he’s-”

POP!  

The ladder wobbled, no longer attached to the top rim of the shelf. The wheels on the bottom legs bucked. The ladder tilted.

“Oh no,” you muttered.

And you fell.  

You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating the force of your impact. But none came. You opened your eyes again to see that you were hovering three feet from the floor. You’d hooked one arm around the rung and the other around Newt, who had his wand in hand, aimed at the ground.  

A relieved breath escaped your lungs. Cautiously, you stepped off the ladder and untangled yourself from Newt, holding up the rungs so he could do the same.  

“That was magnificent!” you breathed.  

Newt smiled at his feet. “It’s a Hover Charm. Simple, really.”

“Well, thank you for saving my life.”

“You saved mine.” It didn’t seem possible for Newt to get any redder, and yet he pulled it off. It was unbearably cute. You had an urge to tug him closer, to fall into his arms again. Being that close to him had spiked a fuzzy feeling in your veins and you liked it.  

But before you could do anything ridiculous, Murry was on the move once more. He darted up the rope chord along the curtain and hurdled onto one of the window ledges. You tracked his path and gasped.

“Newt, he’s going for the dorms!” you cried.

“Merlin’s beard,” Newt cursed under his breath.  

“We have to use a spell. He’ll get away.”

He nodded grudgingly. Then he lifted his wand, pensively fixed his sight on the Murry, and said, “Accio Murtlap.”

The creature came reeling back. Newt had to lunge and grab him, but he was squealing like a newly-weaned piglet and wriggling like one too. "Quick, something to contain him!”

You searched the common room but saw nothing that could help. Then your eyes landed on the mug you’d left by the fireside.

“Hold on, I have an idea!” You darted over. You pointed your wand at the mug and whispered, “Capacious extremis!” Then you snatched it up and ran back to Newt. “Try this.”

He gave you a dubious look.  

“Trust me,” you ordered.  

Without argument, Newt shoved Murry into the mug. The Murtlap was about half a foot long and your mug was half the size of him, but the creature disappeared into its depths without conflict, screeching and thrashing in irritation. Swiftly, you grabbed one of the books Murry had discarded and placed it over the mug’s rim, effectively sealing him in.  

“Brilliant,” Newt said.  He set the mug on a table and crouched down to examine it. The Murtlap’s shrieks were audible but muffled, and the mug rattled with the force of its contents, but otherwise the uncontrollable creature was trapped. “An expanding spell. I’ll have to use that in the future.”

“I’d still be careful. There’s no telling what other havoc he’s capable of.”

Newt stood and surveyed the common room. Books were strewn about, the bookshelf was broken, the (Y/H) crest was in a heap near the fire, the ladder was draped on the floor, and shards of green glass were scattered across the carpet.  Newt glanced at you briefly and you shared a look. In silent agreement, both of you went to work, using repairo spells for the broken objects and manually rearranging what you could. Neither of you could properly reattach the ladder’s top wheels, so you shoved it back to the far corner and laid the wheels on the floor next to it.  

Amidst the cleaning process you found something underneath the table. “Newt?” you called.  

He looked over from where he was sliding the books back onto the shelves. When you said nothing more, he set the books down and came over.

You stood. “I believe this belongs to you.” Gently, you reached out and wrapped Newt’s Hufflepuff scarf around his neck. He froze as your fingers brushed his shoulder, his cheeks once again flushing bright red.  

He opened his mouth like he was about to thank you, but instead he just smiled. You felt yourself smiling back.

“I should be going,” he said to your feet. “I-I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “It was fun.”

He furrowed his brow in astonishment. “Fun?”

“Sure. I mean, my common room nearly got destroyed, but who’s to know? It’ll be our secret.”

Newt blinked at you. “So you won’t tell anyone about-about Murry?”

You shook your head. “I won’t tell anyone about Murry.”

Newt shifted his feet and it seemed like he wanted to say something. He picked up Murry’s mug and paused. You held your breath.  

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

He waited a beat. That fuzzy feeling was bubbling from your stomach again, making your skin tingle.  

He took a deep breath and said in a rush, “If you’d like, would you be my Potions partner? It’s okay if you don’t, I was just wondering if it’s something you-”

You stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Yes.”

He looked at you in shock as if you’d agreed to brush the teeth of a fire-breathing dragon with him. “You-you would?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes.”

A bashful grin crept up his face and he clutched the mug closer. “I suppose I’ll see you in Potions then?”

“You will.”

Still grinning, he made his way back to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Good night.”

“Good night, Newt.”  

He stood there awkwardly for another moment. Then he bobbed his head once, opened the door, and disappeared into the hall, leaving you alone in the common room.  

You sighed giddily, flopping onto the couch. You thought about Newt Scamander for the rest of the night, long after your house mates returned and you retired to the dorms. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him smiling at you. You blushed when you remembered how close you’d been on the ladder, how you’d both clung to each other like a lifeline. In the darkness of your dorm, you snuggled deeper underneath your blankets.  

Potions couldn’t come soon enough.  

Masterlist

[ivorydragoness44]

Percival Graves x Reader: Back to Business

Word Count: 1,013

A/N: After the events of FBAWTFT and FBCG. After Graves was found, received medical attention, and rest, he is finally back working at MACUSA. This is likely about six months of so after finding him.

Also! This can be read with my previous two Percival Graves insert readers.

Warnings: A little angst and fluff?

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

“Grindelwald may be the Ministry’s job now, but it is up to all of us to ensure the safety and secrecy of the magical world,” President Seraphina Picquery stated, concluding the day’s meeting. “Let’s get to work,” she said with a final nod.

All present Aurors of the Investigative Team acknowledged in their own ways with nods and other such gestures before continuing on with their duties.

“Mister Graves,” the president turned her attention toward him for a moment. “We’re glad to have you back with us.”

“I’m glad to finally be back, Madame President,” Percival Graves nodded.

She left shortly after, a multitude of responsibilities likely to accomplish before the end of the day.

As the area around the table in the Major Investigation Department emptied out, Graves visibly sighed and turned to you. “Would you mind walking with me to my office?” He asked quietly.

“Not at all, Mister Graves.”

He smiled, and an unheard laugh shook his shoulders for a moment.

The day prior you had made it clear to Percival that you were going to do your best to keep his first day back at MACUSA as normal as possible. Or as close as you could get, knowing the circumstances.

It had been six months since Grindelwald’s disguise as Director Percival Graves had been discovered by Newt Scamander. Since then, Graves had received medical attention and the rest he deserved after nearly a year’s worth of being Grindelwald’s captive.

Nodding toward the exit, together the two of you made your way toward the elevator.

“I can’t believe all that’s happened, even recently in Paris,” you stated quietly.

“It’s dangerous work going after someone like Grindelwald,” his voice firm in knowing first hand.

Reaching the elevator, there was a pause in the conversation as you both waited for it to descend.

Gently, you nudged your hand over to his; your knuckles sliding against the back of his hand. A warmth filled your chest when you felt Percival’s hand press towards yours as well. Just as his index finger wrapped around yours, the elevator came to the Department level, and he pulled away.

As the door to the elevator opened up, he did not make a move until you entered the contraption first. He stepped in closely after you, instructing the elf to the desired floor.

The ride up in the elevator was quiet, the two of you waiting to continue your conversations elsewhere and away from other ears.

When you did exit the elevator, you were closely followed by Graves as you walked side by side to his office. The hallway was rather quiet. The only sound within the vicinity was that of your shoes making contact with the floor.

Reaching Graves’s office, he unlocked it magically, smiling to himself as he opened the door for you. Upon entering, you both seemed to visibly relax from the privacy and being with the other.

“Are you ready to start your less than eventful day back, Mister Graves?”

He chuckled to himself as he sat down behind his desk, taking in the feeling of the furniture under his fingers. “How long is it going to take for you to just call me, Percival here?”

“I’d rather not slip up on my professionalism during work hours.” A small smirk played at your lips as you said so.

“I call you by your first name.”

“You’re also my superior. So you sort of have a—an unwritten authorization to do so.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he did so. A smile still etched on his face.

“Now, back to business, Mister Graves,” you began, pacing slowly along the side of his desk. “Going back to the beginning, roughly. After Grindelwald’s initial capture and arrest, he had managed to persuade Abernathy. Even locked up, magically shielded, guarded, and a list of all other procedures, and he still managed to escape. So—I don’t know what will actually work at this point.”

“Not to mention his transfiguration abilities.”

You paused your pacing, and looked an an uninteresting speck on the floor. “Yes, but from what we heard from the incident in France, I don’t think he is even bothering to hide. That is confidence. That is someone who knows they are powerful and is afraid of no one.”

“He may still transfigure himself to better conceal his identity if he wants to hide out for a while. He’s gathering more followers, he may still be doing so, or is lying low.”

“Where do you think he might’ve headed to next?”

“Anywhere he wants, honestly,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I cannot say. He could be literally anywhere.”

“We know that there are no new reports or sightings, but it’s possible that he could go back to any country that he was in previously. Unless he is going from country to country to attain followers or—prepare—for something.”

“As President Picquery had said, we’ll stay alert. It’s in the Ministry’s hands now.”

“Because of what he did to you, I should just find him myself,” you grumbled offhandedly.

“No,” he said firmly, “under no circumstances will you venture off against Grindelwald. Much less by yourself. He’s far too dangerous.”

You were sure that Graves knew that you were not one-hundred percent serious, but he wanted to acknowledge that he did not approve of such an idea.

He watched as you stepped over to him, reaching out to run your fingers through some of his dark hair. Eyelids drooping closed, he sighed, leaning into your touch.

“We’ll get him. There’s always a way to get a witch or wizard. He has a weakness. We just need to find it,” you stated softly.

“Hopefully sooner than later,” he breathed.

Carefully, he pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Draping your arms around his shoulders, you nudged your nose to his. “I should really be getting to my work, you know.”

“Stay with me for a little longer please,” he whispered, nuzzling your neck and pulling you close to him.

“Of course, Percival.”

[magics-protector]

Safe

Credence Barebone x Reader

Pairing: Credence Barebone x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Past Abuse, Mention of Anxiety Attacks and Panic Attacks, mentions of child neglect, the reader is a Scamander (it’s mentioned)

Summary: Credence has a night terror about his abuse as a child. The Reader is there to comfort him.

Credence rose from his bed swiftly with a cry - sweat clinging to his body, his eyes streaming with tears. 

Haunting memories he hoped would fade still linger in his thoughts - the pain, the torture. He could still feel the metal of his own belt against his hands, the lingering feeling that would never go away. 

Credence held his hands against the back of his neck as he gathered himself - there was doubt in his mind that he would ever go back to sleep. Until he looked over to his left. 

There, rising from a deep slumber, with soft eyes and a gentle touch, was the love of his life. 

Y/N was careful with their movements - making sure he was okay with them touching him. Once that was ensured, Y/N wrapped their arms around his shoulders and that seemed to break whatever dam that was holding his tears back. In the arms of his angel, Credence broke down. 

There were way too many nights he had spent alone with himself on days like this. He never had anyone to care for him before - he was always alone and he often felt like that is how it was always going to be. The looming thoughts of spending eternity alone in his own head almost sent him off the deep end. 

Then he met Y/N. 

It wasn’t by accident or anything. Y/N was in New York to start a new life for themselves - they were living with the Goldstein sisters (unofficially) and was working hard to get a job at MACUSA.  

Slowly, Credence opened up to them. 

And they opened up to him. 

Y/N spoke about living in the shadow of their older brother Theseus and how Newt - as kind and loving brother he is - essentially left them alone with their parents. Not that their parents even knew they were there. 

As Credence’s violent sobs started to become slow, raspy breaths, Y/N placed a kiss on Credence’s temple and rubbed his shoulders. 

And for the first of many times to come, Credence felt safe. 

[randomfandomimagine]

Imagine: Telling scary stories with Newt

Not requested

_

You nodded, with your face comfortably rested on your palms, as you intently listened to Newt’s story. It hadn’t been spooky yet, so you were waiting until he got to that part.

“And then I... I pulled the curtain to the side...” He was saying. “It was a bird”

You laughed out loud at the resolution of the somewhat tense story he had been telling you. Slightly awkward about your response, Newt chuckled as well.

“That wasn’t scary, Newt!” You told him, resting your hand on his arm. “When I said scary stories I meant something like how Nearly Headless Nick died or something”

“Oh, sorry” He nervously smiled. “I don’t really know what happened to him”

“I do!” You said, excited about Halloween and the spooky spirit of it. “He told me once” 

Newt gulped, but nodded his head and listened to you with quite a grave expression. 

“Would you prefer to hear something different?” You tried, noticing his hesitance. “I have watched plenty of muggle horror movies” 

“Y-Yes, please” He seemed a little relieved and more interested on. “I would certainly love to hear about that”

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