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kareofbears · 2 months

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a fragile line, chapter 1/3

Newt and Thomas always had something going on—even in the Maze, Gally knew right away. But never did he think it would turn into something like this; a devotion fermented. A reverence that made the chapel look blasphemous in comparison.

—

Or, as they infiltrate WICKED, Gally notices the shift between Newt and Thomas.

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The worst day of his life was when Gally realized he still fucking cares.

He always cared. Probably cared too damn much, back in the Maze. Cared so much it tore them all apart.

They had lost everything in the span of days. Crops burned, walls torn down, weapons picked up only to be dropped, dripping in blood. Gally tried telling everyone to stop breaking the rules, but nobody listened, and people died. Boys, his boys, died. And he tried so hard to save as many of them as possible, took that burden on himself, tarnished his palms with invisible callouses from the effort of forcibly keeping them all together. There's nothing worse than having the hands that helped kids out of the Box be the same ones to etch their names off the wall.

Gally was younger, then. It feels like years have passed even if it's only been months since it all went down. He was struck with terror, confused, determined to find answers, and most of all, he was angry. Angry with grief, angry at the situation, angry at change. Of course, nobody pissed him off more than the Greenie, sauntering around and making big speeches like he built the damn Glade himself. And guess what—Gally was right about that, too.

But what really got to him, what really made his nerves light up with fury and sink deep into his bones was that nobody listened to him about the Greenie. Yeah, Gally can see now that he was a massive dick back then, but all of his worries were valid. Thomas was dangerous. Thomas was working with WICKED. Thomas did lead people to dangerous situations without thinking things through or considering the consequences. And nobody questioned that, because they were making progress on the Maze for the first time ever.

It's not something he'll ever say out loud, but damn the Maze. Damn freedom. What the hell is the point of fighting your way out when you see the bodies lined up behind you? What's the price of escape? Too high. It would always be too high for him.

When they left him there, bleeding out on the floor of some busted up WICKED lab with a meter-long spear sticking out of his chest—Minho did always have one hell of a throw—Gally cursed every single one of them. Croaked out their names with whatever breath was left in his lungs, lips tracing the syllables in a haze of red and hate. Was still mouthing it when Lawrence's guys found him.

Months later, slouched on top of a combat vehicle for a routine trip of the Last City's outskirts, he sees them.

They looked like shit. Clothes that have been through the ringer, hair matted with grime, every inch of their skin covered in soot and who-the-hell-knows what, and eyes blazing with something only anguish from the Scorch and running from WICKED can bring to someone.

He wanted so badly for that same, familiar hurt to rise. That thorn on his side that he convinced himself would never leave, the phantom spear in his chest to make itself known. He waits for the anger to rear its ugly head again, like it always has. The need to feel hate.

It doesn't come. What does come, unfortunately, is knee-buckling relief.

They're alive.

After all this time, even after they left him behind to rot, they're Gladers. They're boys. They're Gally's boys, first and foremost. He protects his own until his last breath. For better or for worse, he still gives a damn about these guys.

If he's going to care, he's going to do it properly this time. And with these shanks? This is going to suck. It's going to be hell. But Gally doesn't do things in halves.

—

“Words?”

“Circulation. Novel. Badger.”

Thomas nods, taking a bite of his apple as he writes into that beaten up notebook of his. “Looks good today, too,” he says approvingly between chews. "And you're not—"

"I’m fine. Don't feel any worse than I did twelve hours ago," Newt cuts in, amused. "I feel bloody sparkling, Tommy. What's the next set?"

Gally watches as Thomas continues writing, brows furrowed in concentration. The three of them are sitting underneath the awning of the chapel's entrance, shielding themselves from the morning sun's abnormally hot rays, making last-minute preparations for when they head into the Last City tonight. Frankly, he was glad for it. Already they've lingered for too long, the paranoia of timing itching at his skin.

"Next words are 'narrow, switch, illusion,'" Thomas replies, closing his book shut. "Don't forget."

"I'll try my best," Newt says drily. "Can we move to actual business now, doctor?"

Thomas leans over and knocks on the wooden door, hard, taking another bite of his apple. "Brenda. Get out here."

Immediately, the door swings open and she peeks her head out, bob bouncing as she squints. "Done flirting?"

"Never," Newt says easily, scooching over so she has room to sit. "Lucky us, the doc cleared me to join the grown-up conversation."

Part of the last-minute preparations, apparently, is this. The Greenie playing Medjack and clearing Newt for a clean bill of health every twelve hours with little memory tests.

It's easy to make fun of, which Newt never hesitates to do. But when Gally first saw them doing it, saw Thomas' stone-faced expression as he insists on checking Newt every time, he's reassured, just a little. He still has his reservations towards the Greenie, probably always will, but if there's one thing they can both agree on, is that Newt's health isn't something to fuck around with.

Brenda flops down between him and Newt, giving Newt a side-hug and raises her fist towards Gally. Unhesitatingly, he bumps it with his own.

"Okay," Thomas swallows, passing the fruit to Newt, who takes his own bite in turn. Despite fatigue prevalent in his posture, Thomas’ voice is sure. "We're heading out tonight. The objectives are saving Minho, busting out twenty-eight Immunes, and taking the serum from the vault. We're taking the tunnels, like we did the first time." The way he's reciting the plan feels clinical, worn out, the same way sharp rock smooths down after years of being under rough waters. "Brenda's getting the bus for the kids with Fry's help—"

"Why isn't Fry here?" Gally interrupts.

"He's scavenging the place for something to mark the road with." Thomas slumps against the pillar like it was the only thing holding him up, before straightening again. At Gally's nod, he continues. "Newt, Gally and I are going in with Teresa to the main building. Gally and I will take point, Newt stays a few steps behind us as backup."

"Just a few?" Newt clarifies, coughing a little before biting into the apple.

"Just a few."

Newt’s teeth sink into the core, a piece falling with a loud crunch. There's still a hint of bruising still smudged just above his cheekbone; the only remnants of the mysterious black eye that appeared before they all had dinner a few days ago.

"Just a quick chat with Tommy," Newt answered when Gally raised a brow at him then. "Little trouble in paradise, just had to let out some steam, is all. You know how we are."

The thing is, Gally doesn't.

Individually, the two of them are pretty much the same. A lot happened in six months, and he'd be a liar if he said he's the same shank that was tearing his voice out in the Glade. Thomas is impossibly more difficult now, but he always was. At his core, though, he's still the brave, overly-observant idiot he pulled out of the Box. Newt's still the embodiment of wit, the patron fucking saint of composure, even if that's starting to chip away because of the Flare, judging by Thomas' twin bruise on his jaw.

But the two of them? As a unit? Gally has no idea who these bastards are.

It's as if the universe took a pinch of Thomas and a pinch of Newt, threw it in a barrel, and topped it with a gallon of deranged before stirring. A mixture of whatever the hell the two of them are now. It's something Gally doesn't want to put much thought into, because something about the two of them feels almost threatening. Warning bells, the presence of danger when something involves the two of them.

Even asking Brenda about it, once, didn't help clear things up. "Those two? The only thing I get about them is that you should just get out of the way before you do something stupid."

"What, you make a bad comment or something?"

"Kissed Thomas." A pause. "Yeah. Don't ask. Newt laughed it off but Thomas wouldn’t speak to me for days."

Gally refocuses back on the meeting, as Thomas continues. "—into Sub-Level 3. Get the serum, give it to Newt right then and there. Get the kids out, meet with Brenda, get picked up by Fry." He pauses before nodding, as if he were confirming his own plan with himself. That, paired with his deep eyebags, Gally has to wonder if this guy's slept at all since they interrogated Teresa a few days ago. "Good that?"

Two good thats and one sounds good. Looks like Brenda never picked up the Glader lingo.

"Okay. Be back by sundown. We leave at nine." Thomas looks over them, voicd curt. “Don’t be late.”

"What Tommy means to say," Newt chides. "Is do what you need to do. Get some rest, pack what you need. Take care of yourselves, because who knows when we'll get free time again, yeah? Go on, now." Newt turns to Thomas. "Dick," he says, but it comes out oddly affectionate. "Never did pick up on niceties, did you?"

Thomas shrugs. "Figured they'd appreciate efficiency."

Gally gets on his feet, fully intending to slink away somewhere and get in the mindset for the infiltration tonight when he hears Thomas call out: "Stick around, Gally." A mild thump sounds out, like someone getting swatted. "...Please."

He doesn't repress a sigh, but doesn't complain—he has a thing or two to say, anyway.

They wait for Brenda and Newt to leave. Gally doesn't let him have the first word. "You look like shit," he says bluntly. "You can't go in there when you look like you can barely stay on your feet."

Thomas shoots him a glare but doesn't bother getting up from where he's sitting. "I'll be fine." Gally keeps staring, and Thomas visibly deflates, curling in on himself a little. "I'll be fine after we talk."

"Okay." Gally crosses his arms and waits. "Anytime, Greenie."

He doesn't answer, and Gally has the urge to tell him to just spit it out, but then Thomas' expression turns solemn. "Be honest with me."

"I don't think I have it in me to bother lying to you, man."

"Would you choose Newt over me?"

The question stuns Gally to silence. "Feeling insecure?" he asks instead of answering.

Thomas ignores the jab. "You would, right?" he insists, eyes intense. "You must. He has three years over me. You built the Glade together, one of the originals. You respected him even when he disagreed with you during Gatherings, I remember. You and I, we were never close. Got on each other's nerves a lot." He tilts his head, considering. "Still do."

Gally hesitates, honesty catching him off guard. "Shit, Greenie," he sighs, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it before. They’ve made strides, him and Thomas. They’re not as cut-throat with each other like they were before, as much as Thomas tried to reignite the feud between them. Is it good? Fuck no, but it’s better than before.

Nonetheless, it’s nothing on the affinity that Gally had towards Newt.

Eventually, he nods. "Yeah. If it came down to it and I had no other choice, I would choose Newt over you."

He’s not surprised when Thomas relaxes, tension easing from his frame. "Good," he breathes out, flopping down to the hot concrete and closing his eyes. "So if it came down to it, you'd make sure Newt would get out of there, even if it killed me?"

Gally gives him a hard look. “You planning on dying out there?”

“I’m planning on Newt coming back alive.” When Thomas opens his eyes slowly, gaze sliding to him, his expression is almost unbearably vulnerable. "Please," Thomas says quietly, and he almost doesn't hear it. "Please."

"You asked me to be honest." A hum sounds out in reply. "I think if I got Newt out of there, but you didn't make it, there would be nothing left of Newt to save."

Thomas frowns. "Yeah," he agrees, a little too easily. "But he'd be alive."

—

Gally peers over Newt's shoulder, standing on his tiptoes a little to get a better view. "You choose which one you're wearing yet?"

"Red one, I think." Holding up the WICKED jumpsuits, he watches as Newt's eyes jump between the three choices. "I like a good pop of color."

"Well, I don't." Gripping Newt's shoulder, he grabs the plain gray jumpsuit, and pauses briefly when Newt tenses underneath his touch. "I'll take the boring one."

"Doing us all a favor, mate."

Gally glances at Newt—who gives him a mild, withdrawn smile—before turning his attention back down to the jumpsuit. Tracing it with his fingers, he studies it, unseeing. A sick sense of premonition tingling down his spine.

"Well," Newt says, "I'm gonna—" he jerks his head to the door, clearing his throat, and Gally really, really considers letting him get away with it. But he can't, not when they're leaving in a few hours. Not when the stakes are so high. Newt, of all things, can’t be considered a variable. But it might be too late.

"Newt," he calls, still directing his gaze at the jumpsuit in his hands. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

He stops in his tracks, turned away from Gally.

Dread grows in his stomach. Silence reigns for a long moment.

"No," he admits, finally. "But Tommy seems to trust you, so." Facing Gally, his smile, sickeningly foreign and apprehensive, is being directed right at Gally. "You must be a half-decent guy."

Gally laughs, because he knows Newt would want him to and he doesn't know how else to react. "Now I really know your memory's fucked." Hopping on top of a crate, Gally lets the humor drop from his voice, fist tight around the fabric in his hands. "How bad is it?"

That earns him a scowl, harsh and abrupt. "How the hell am I supposed to know the bloody details? I don't fucking remember."

"Calm," Gally placates. He has to constantly remind himself that, despite the fact that he hides it so well, Newt is sick. "Come on, man, we need to talk about this. You remember Thomas?"

Like a smothered flame, the fight immediately burns out of Newt. Carefully, he sits on the ground in front of Gally, crossing his legs. Gally wonders why Newt wouldn't just sit beside him when he remembers that he probably wouldn't want to sit next to a complete stranger. It stung, a little. "Yeah, I remember him."

"Does he know about this?"

"Yeah."

Gally narrows his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes," he repeats, exasperated. "You really think I can hide anything from that Tommy bastard? Especially about me and my—" he gestures at his head, circling a finger around his temple lazily. "I tried, mate, and that didn't work out for the two of us."

"Gally."

"What?"

"Stop calling me 'mate.' It's Gally. Just ask next time."

Newt scrunches his brows in concentration. "Gally," he stretches out, like he's hoping muscle memory of the name will kick in, a faint recognition flashing in his eyes. "It's kind of ringing a bell, now."

"Hope it's not alarm bells," Gally huffs. "How does the memory loss work? Are you going to be okay for tonight?"

"Not sure, it's kind of a new development. Sometimes I forget small details like what I ate for breakfast, and sometimes I forget you exist. Tommy's been trying to keep track of the progress with the little tests, but not sure that's doing a whole lot. Thinking that he's just obsessing over my health, like usual. As for tonight," he shrugs. "I have to be okay, don't I?"

"Newt."

"Gally," he groans out, matching Gally's tone. Looks like the memories are back; a quick recovery, for now. "I don't have a bloody choice. Besides, it's not that bad yet. It usually happens for a few minutes at a time and then I'm right as rain. So don't bother convincing me—"

"And I won't." During Gatherings, arguments with Newt had always been a losing battle, especially when the Greenie was involved somehow. Gally can count on one hand the times he's disagreed with Newt—this isn't one of them. "We need you out there," he says truthfully.

"Thanks," Newt says, eyes crinkling in relief, before morphing into a thoughtful expression. "Did Tommy say anything to you?"

Gally was shaking his head before Newt even finished. "Nope," he jumps down from the crate and walks out. "Not taking anymore bodyguard requests from anyone."

“Gally.”

Gally flips him off without turning around, mouth twisted unhappily. It’s a steep learning curve, but he thinks he’s starting to get it. Newt and Thomas are an old book that hasn’t been opened in years—you can’t separate the pages without risking both being torn in half. But what he wishes they knew is that he doesn’t want to have to choose between the two of them. He doesn’t like choosing lives, weighing the risks of success and death. There’s nothing more he wants than to leave that mindset back in the Maze. Especially between these two; they’re finally back in his life and they immediately get to talking about how willing they are to martyr themselves. Like they don’t realize how much this fucks with Gally’s head.

Just as the door is about to close, he hears Newt sigh, tired and frustrated. “Shit.”

—

"Punctual," is how Thomas greets him when he gets there ten minutes before the meeting time. He looks impossibly worse. Shoulders drooping and eye bags bordering on purple, he looks like he’s only standing on his feet through rage alone, as if it is only his heartache that propels him forward.

By now, the sun had long since set, replaced by a huge full moon that they ignored. They're both dressed in WICKED uniforms, masks in hand. He may not see it, but he knows both of them have weapons laced and hidden throughout their entire body like a second skin, like suits that he sees adults wear in the city. It flickers in his mind, sometimes, that in a normal life, they’d all still be too young to wear suits.

Gally snorts. "While you shanks were eating sand in the Scorch, I was in the military the whole time. Punctual made sure my ass didn't get beat."

Thomas' expression doesn't so much as twitch. "Makes sense," he says, effectively ending the conversation. Not that he minded. Greenie was a real stick in the mud nowadays. He almost prefers the hundreds of questions that spewed out of his mouth over the contemplative, fuming silence that's associated with Thomas nowadays.

“You always gonna be this much of an asshole?” Gally prods, because there’s time to waste and he’s never been afraid to ruin Thomas’ day.

“Well,” he replies, tone perfectly level. “By the end of tonight, I’ll either be the most pleasant, cheerful, carefree shank you’ve ever met—“ he lolls his head towards Gally, eyes dead. “Or I’ll be begging you to kill me.”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond. Footsteps, paired with the heavy thumps that only someone wearing a WICKED uniform can bring, paired with a throaty cough. "You alright, Tommy?"

The change was instant; it’s as if dawn broke at 8:56 pm. Thomas, the miserable, angry, short-fused Greenie, splits a grin brighter than the sun. A happiness sharp and abrupt and covetous that it felt like a weapon in its own right, an ax to grind so cutting that it makes the guns and knives strapped to their bodies feel like childrens’ toys. Ridiculously, Gally has the urge to take a step back out of its range.

“Could be better,” Thomas replies, reaching for Newt’s hand. One thing he’s grateful for is that these two always keep the PDA to a minimum. Small mercies. “Brenda?”

“Hauling our lovely Teresa over.”

As if on cue, the chapel doors barge open, Teresa and Brenda stepping out. If it weren’t for the sunken, lifeless expression plastered on Teresa’s face, they might have looked like two friends in a different life.

“Oh, and here you are,” Newt slips Thomas a folded piece of paper, clearing his throat. “Keep it somewhere safe.”

“What’s that?” Gally asks.

“Insurance. I’m supposed to give it to him, in case he—“ Thomas gestures vaguely, still unable to vocalize Newt’s sickness. There’s an emotion Gally can’t place scattered on his features. “Can I read it?”

“Sure,” Newt shrugs. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

He unfolds the paper, and it was quiet as they watched him read it. When he finishes, he looks up slowly. For some reason, Thomas looks overwhelmed.

New rolls his eyes. “I told you, it’s nothing you don’t already know.”

“Yeah, but still. It’s in writing.” With a care he isn’t used to associating with Thomas, he tucks the paper deep into his breast pocket. "Can I keep this?"

"No, that’s for me." Newt pauses, considering. "I'll write you your own letter, maybe."

Gally’s barely listening to them, much more interested in how Teresa looks like she just got her soul sucked out of her. “What’s wrong with her?” he asks Brenda.

“Beats me. Ever since the interrogation, she’s been out of it.” Cutting a glance at Thomas, “You have something to do with that?”

“You already know everything I did during the interrogation,” he says, hands up in surrender. “Haven’t even talked to her since then.”

Somehow, Teresa looks even more dejected after hearing that. An unforeseen benefit; she’s easier to handle this way. Gally catches Newt’s glaring at her, a mildly amused look etched into his eyes, and wonders how much is unforseen and how much is just Newt.

Turning his attention back to Brenda, he double checks his belt. Pistol, knife, dagger, radio, hacksaws, extra rounds. “Ready?”

Teresa’s head shoots up and blinks, suddenly alarmed. “Brenda’s coming?”

“Look who’s back from the dead,” Newt taunts, and Thomas frowns at him slightly. “You’re a bouncer now, are you? Of course Brenda’s bloody coming.”

“But isn’t she—?” Her gaze drops down to Brenda’s shin, where the Flare used to be etched. “She’s not getting treatment, right? Otherwise Newt would—“

Thomas sighs loudly, not bothering to look in her direction. “We need to go. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Where is she getting her serum?”

Gally looks at her like she’s lost it. “Do you think if we had any serum, we wouldn’t shoot that shit straight into Newt?”

Newt blows out a breath, eye twitching, and a tingle of premonition tingles along Gally’s nape. “Can we get a move on now? This girl’s just wasting our time. Don’t we have something better to do?”

Thomas gives him another long, long look. “Okay,” he concedes. “Let’s head out.”

Teresa opens her mouth, but Gally grips her wrist. “Haven’t you learned to just keep quiet?” he hisses, the question more genuine than he intended. It’s a wonder she’s still alive. “It’s a simple thing. Shut up. Get us in. And maybe Tom will hate you less.”

The venom in her stare could rival a Griever’s, but at least she doesn’t complain when they start walking.

—

The tunnel sucks. It always does.

It has a perpetual stickiness that seems to permeate into the aged bricks in the wall, a natural humidity that makes the heavy stink of a sewer rise and settle onto their clothes like a snowfall that Gally has only ever read about and has lost all hope of seeing in the sun-scorched world. With every step, an unnamable liquid would make their shoes squelch with a viscosity he doesn’t even want to think about; yet another thing to ignore if he wants to keep it together. It’s dimly lit, slippery, a nasty piece of work. The sound is strangely amplified there in a way he knows gives all of them hives—loud sounds get you attention. Attention gets you killed. Just how it works nowadays.

Thomas and Newt climb down first, then Teresa. Brenda gives him a dubious look, one foot on the ladder’s ring.

“What?”

Her tone is forcibly nonchalant. “Have a thing against going underground.” In the corner of his eye, he sees her twist her ankle this way and that. “You sure there’s nothing dangerous down there?”

Gally cracks a grin. “If you’re worried about Cranks, I think there’s technically one down there.” It’s the kind of joke that would get his teeth knocked out if he told it to Thomas, but it pulls a startled huff out of Brenda.

“Guess so.” Scraping something like a smile, she descends, and he follows her, closing the trap door with a thud.

Hopping down the rest of the way, his boots hit the ground with a splash. “Straight ahead,” he tells them, blindly reaching for the lever and pulling it up with some effort. Lights flicker on, bulb by bulb, as the tunnel stretches on for what seems like miles. “Let’s make quick work of this place.”

Thomas and Newt set the pace, a brisk walk that reminds Gally that Thomas was a Runner and Newt would still be one, in another life. Gally studies Newt’s leg from behind, nodding to himself when there’s only the barest stutter in his gait. He must have worked hard to train it up to where it is now.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re not as good at being a jackass as you think you are?” Brenda whispers beside him, soft enough that the sound doesn’t bounce against the tunnel walls.

Gally bristles. “No, actually, they tell me I’m worse than they remember.”

A scoff, then, loudly: “There’s only room for one brooding jerk in this group, and I don’t know if you can rip it from the lovestruck fools.”

“I heard that,” Thomas calls back, annoyed.

Brenda chuckles, before dropping her voice. “Listen, Gally. This tough guy act? It’s not doing anyone any favors. You don’t realize how quickly—” she falters. “How quickly it can go away.”

Irritation rises in him. “It’s not an act,” he rebukes, fighting to speak softly. “It’s more than that. You don’t think I know about loss? Give me a break.” He gestures to himself before Thomas and Newt, “What do you even know about this? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s not really any of your damn business.”

“I’m the one who watched them for six whole months while you were gone,” she reminds him. “It’s not the Maze, but the Scorch is its own hell. It changes people, it changes priorities. And it’s also when Newt and Thomas became Newt and Thomas.”

He scrubs his face roughly. “And?” he prompts, because saying Who fucking cares? is probably rude.

“You can probably tell that they’re—” her lip twitches. “A little off.”

“Batshit insane?” he offers.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And with how they trip over themselves to stare at each other, all I’m saying is that it’s nice that someone out there is watching where they’re going. Make sure their footing is alright.”

He gives her an incredulous look. “And that’s me?”

Brenda shrugs. “You and me. We can take shifts.”

Gally continues staring at her before throwing caution to the wind. “You still in love with him or something?”

It’s Brenda’s turn to be irritated. “Can’t you just accept the fact that some people aren’t ashamed to look out for their friends? Why do you have to make it weird?”

“Can’t you believe the fact that I’ve already tried looking out for my friends before and ended up with a stick in my chest?” His tone is more piercing than he wanted it to be.

She falls silent, and they walk for a few minutes with only the sound of their shoes slushing in sewer water and the muffled staccato of Newt and Thomas whispering with one another.

“I heard about that,” she says eventually. “It sounded deserved, if I’m being honest.”

Gally grunts, because she’s right and he doesn’t want to grace her with acknowledgement.

Brenda’s mouth quirks. “Who’s the sore loser now?”

Despite his best efforts, he cracks a smile. “Whatever.” And then, begrudgingly, “Yeah. It was deserved. But it was also—“

“Complicated?” Brenda finishes. “Look, man. We can grill those two all you want, but one thing about them is that they keep their shit simple and clean. There’s one priority: each other. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. What you did is in the past, but you’re here for them now. Your hands are full enough as it is, so maybe—” she shrugs. “Try letting stuff go?”

There’s nothing to let go, he wants to retort.

I already let it go, he fixes.

I thought I let go already, he tries again.

I don’t think I’m allowed to let go, is what he actually wants to say.

A quiet, trilling voice, one Gally almost forgot about, made itself known. “You held them too tightly before.” Teresa mutters, eyes downcast. “So now you don’t even want to touch them now. Right?”

Bitterness coats his throat. “You, of all people,” he says, emotionless. “Don’t get to speak to me about that.”

He shoulders past Teresa, ignoring her. “I’ll go ahead and take the first shift,” he tells Brenda.

“That’s the Gally I’ve heard about.”

He scoffs without heat and has to jog to catch up to Thomas and Newt when he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks, liquid sloshing at his shin. Dread, cold and heavy, settles in his stomach.

“Narrow, beatle—no, it’s not beatle,” Newt’s back is to him, shoulders pulled in tight and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Narrow, hoax…”

“Newt,” Thomas speaks quietly.

“No, Tommy, just give me a minute. I swear I’ve got it.” Newt takes a deep breath. “The words are narrow, insight—fuck.”

“They’re just words,” Thomas tries mildly, but even in the poor lighting, Gally can see how his hands tremble. “Nothing more to it. It’s a stupid thing I made up, anyway.”

“It’s not stupid,” Newt hisses. “It was bloody important to you twelve hours ago, wasn’t it? Don’t go changing the rules on me now.”

Thomas places a hand on Newt’s chest lightly but firm. Taking a deep breath, movements exaggerated, shoulder rising and falling, Thomas holds eye contact with Newt. In the next set of breaths, Newt joins him; reluctantly at first, until the tension in his shoulders gradually relaxes, their chests rising and falling in time with each other.

“We good here?” Gally interrupts quietly.

Newt turns to him, meditative state seemingly broken, and for a second, he thought that Newt was going to have that distant expression on his face again, the one that says he doesn’t recognize Gally anymore. Expects to be met with gritted teeth and wild eyes and black veins. Gally readies himself. Anger, he can work with.

But Newt lets out a sharp breath and casts his eyes to the ceiling, visibly deflating. “We’re good here,” he sighs, and when he glances back down, his expression is sheepish. “Sorry.”

Gally nods, eyes flickering to Thomas, who reveals nothing.

“Come on,” Gally says, brushing past Newt, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Tunnel’s turning soon.”

—

The trickiest part of their journey into the city was always going to be outrunning the train.

“There’s too many of us to go all at once,” Gally announces, all of them hunched in a cramped tunnel with jagged rocks pressed against their palms. He speaks with a raised voice, the train whooshing loudly, the lights rhythmically lighting up their faces like search lights. “We should split this up into two runs.”

He studies each person and doesn’t hide a grimace. The dramatics of how to split this group of shanks is annoyingly complicated. “Me, Brenda, Newt. Greenie, Teresa. Sound good?”

Thomas opens his mouth, and Gally gives him an unimpressed look. “What is it now?”

“...Nothing.”

“Great.” Gally pokes his head out slightly. It’s almost time. “Brenda, Newt. Ready?”

They nod. “Don’t trip this time,” Thomas tells Newt, a shadow of humor in his voice.

“Nice to see you well enough to make jokes, Tommy.”

“Now!” Gally calls.

The three of them hop down, one after another in quick succession. With the rumbling of the next train behind them, they didn’t waste time with idle conversation again. They set out in a sprint, and Gally lets Brenda and Newt pass him, opting to take the tail-end this time. He expects their serious expression, unyielding even in how harshly they suck in their breaths, but Newt’s brows are ruffled in together as he passes Gally.

It goes smoothly, thankfully. The rubble doesn’t even get a chance to truly start vibrating until they were long up the ladder, slumped against the concrete walls to support themselves as they catch their breath. Gally stares at the ceiling, lets himself zone out for a few moments, waits for his lungs to stop stinging, before glancing to his right.

Newt is sitting up, spine ramrod straight, a tense hand on his holster and unblinking.

“Newt?” Gally asks slowly, starting to recognize that vacant look in Newt's eyes.

He watches as Newt’s focus darts between Gally and Brenda, lips moving silently. There’s a glint in his eye that leaves Gally uneasy.

“Newt?” Brenda repeats, levity gone. “What’s wrong with you?”

“How do you know my name?” Newt presses his back tighter against the wall, like he’s trying to escape. Escape from them.

Brenda and Gally share a look. “We’re your friends,” she starts.

It wasn’t the right thing to say. Newt tightens his hold on his holster. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if this is what Teresa felt during the interrogation. “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he mutters, and Gally strains to hear him. “Not once.”

Gally slowly attempts to sit up, but Brenda subtly shakes her head. He settles back down.

“Where is he?” Newt breathes out, low and urgent. It’s faint, but there’s the softest hint of leather creaking, like Newt’s considering pulling out his gun. “Where’s Tommy?”

Sucking in a breath, Gally tries to reply—he’ll be here in a minute—when the next train whooshes past them, drowning out his response. In this sporadic lighting, Newt’s eyes burn bright, rapacious, boring deeply into Gally’s. The train fully passes them, and for a moment, darkness swallows them whole.

Then the lights flicker back on and Gally is staring directly into the barrel of Newt’s gun. When he speaks, it’s guttural, very nearly inhumane. “Where’s Tommy?”

Gally doesn’t flinch. “He’s coming,” he assures him, refusing to let his voice waver. “Maybe in ten seconds, he’ll be here.”

Newt presses the barrel closer, actually touching Gally’s forehead this time. “He wasn’t supposed to leave my side,” Newt retaliates, but it comes out unsure. “I know that much. We—we talked about that, I think.” For a moment, he shrinks on himself, before anger seems to seize him once more. “Where?”

A hand grazes Newt’s shoulder. “Hey—” Brenda murmurs.

The barrel leaves his forehead and is pointed at Brenda, but her draw is the quickest out of all of them. In an instant, both of them have their pistols pointed at each other, Newt shaking uncontrollably and Brenda calm, the only sign of her worry is from the downward tilt of her mouth.

Then, out of nowhere, Newt lowers his gun. “It’s been ten seconds,” he states abruptly. The whiplash leaves Gally reeling.

“What?” Brenda asks, lowering hers. “What are you talking about?”

“Tommy, he—“ Newt’s face scrunches, thinking. “He’s fast. I remember that much. It shouldn’t take him long. It’s not like him to be late. There must be something wrong.” The tunnel they’re in is cramped, but Newt tries to stand anyway, and suddenly collapses. “What’s wrong with this bloody leg…?”

In the back of his mind, Gally is vaguely impressed. Never mind forgetting Brenda and Gally; Newt forgot his limp, but is able to recall that Thomas can run faster than the average person. “You think Thomas is in trouble?”

Gally doesn’t hesitate—he foregoes the ladder and jumps down directly from the platform when he hears them, voices raised and Teresa clutching onto Thomas' arm like a lifeline. A flash of disbelief flares in his chest. How did Newt know?

“—You see that Brenda's fine? Can't you see there's—"

"I'll let this train run you over Teresa, I'm not fucking—"

"Please, this can save Newt's life—" Faintly, the screech of the train becomes audible, but the two of them pay no heed to it.

"Keep his name out of your mouth. You're the reason why his life needs to be saved—"

Gally doesn't even try to break into their argument. When he's close enough, he grabs Teresa's wrists and forcibly tears it away from Thomas. "I'm really starting to regret not taking Greenie's offer to just chop your thumb off."

"You have to listen," she starts, eyes shining with frustration, but the screeching is getting louder and louder. "The cure—!"

"How dare you," Thomas lashes out, ablaze. "Taunt the cure in front of me when you know I'd skin anyone alive to get my hands on it."

"The train!" Gally yells, but neither of them look at him.

"I'm not taunting, I know how much this means to you, and I want you—"

"And I don't, Teresa. I don't want you, I don't even want to see you, I can't stand to look at you."

Enough is enough. "Newt's memory is blanking again," Gally cuts in. "Has no idea who me and Brenda are."

Thomas whirls on him, Teresa completely forgotten. "Shit." Without warning, he turns and runs, the soles of his shoes barely hitting the ground before it's up again.

Teresa stares at his back for a long moment before turning to him. Heartbreak isn’t a strong enough word to describe the devastation on her expression. it's as if she doesn't hear the train that's rolling closer and closer to them. Or maybe she doesn't care. "Will you listen?" she asks him.

Gally gives her a blank look. "If you don't run now, you'll die."

He sets off, and he can't help the surprise he feels when footsteps sound behind him.

—

Curiosity gets Gally this time around. “How’d you know?”

Newt glances at him. By the time they got back, breathless and exhausted, Gally doubly so, Newt seemed to have found his memories again.

After a long moment of silence, Newt simply shrugs.

It would have been naive to expect any other answer.

#the maze runner #fic tag #newt #maze runner #TMR #thomas/newt #newtmas #a fragile line #ah shit here we go again #do you guys know when my last multichaptered fic was #2021 #for plainly in truth #isn’t that CRAZY #fever longing still #to all unaware this is a series! so please read the others first maybe #or not #be the master of your own fate

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witchedwisteria · 6 months

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@xuoria wanted ‘so much angst it hurts’ so blame them again!!! x, you asked for this.

thomas sees blonde everywhere. in sonya, in the sand beneath his feet, in the pale yellow of the sunset in winter. he sees it in his dreams, newt’s hair fanned out on the pillow next to him, threaded between his fingers.

he sees red, too. in brenda’s favourite shirt, in the apples growing in the orchard (he can’t go near the gardens, he just can’t), in the blood of the sunset. he sees it seeping through newt’s shirt and dripping onto the floor, sticky and hot.

he doesn’t want to forget. he doesn’t - he wakes up sobbing every night with anguish and gratitude. because if he remembers that then he remembers the little half smile on newt’s familiar mouth before he collapsed in his arms, and that…he would take every ounce of torture to get another glimpse of newt’s happiness.

it has been five years. brenda and frypan have a little one on the way. sonya and harriet are married. minho and gally are…something.

and yet, thomas is the one most committed.

a girl came up to him, once, with dark hair and green eyes. she was all coy, gentle scheming touches, until thomas tells her no.

“i’m in love,” he tells her honestly. minho closes his eyes in pain from across the fire. “i’m waiting, until i can see him again.”

she scoffs. newt is as famous as thomas here; the wicked children they’d saved ask thomas and minho for stories of the boy with the strange accent, and minho seems determined to preserve newt’s fearlessness. she knows who the ‘him’ in question is. “it’s been years, and he didn’t look anything special-“

thomas is shoving her off, red hot fury pulsing through him. “don’t you dare,” he snarls. he relishes in feeling something other than grief. “he was everything - he is everything. i love him. he loved me, and i’ll never love again as long as i can - “ he shakes his head, hand finding the familiar metal under his shirt, and runs off. he’s always been good at running.

not anything special?

thomas slams into his tent, shaking. he doesn’t know what to do. his memories of newt are slipping, and even now he knows that newt was the most beautiful thing he will ever see, an odd juxtaposition of tenses. because newt is here and gone, present and distant. thomas wants him nearer.

there is a knock on the tree by his tent. a woman stands there - an old wckd defect, an ex scientist. she holds a faded paper copy of records. “i am sorry,” she whispers. “i kept them because i…wasn’t sure if by giving them i would do more harm than good.” she passes it over, and thomas opens it silently.

it’s records. hundreds of them, labelled ‘A2 and A5.’ thomas’ heart jumps. there are photos.

he sees newt. he doesn’t register that he’s alone again; he sinks to the floor and cradles the worn black and white security images of them as children as if they’re his last sip of water in the scorch again.

there are photos of them in the maze, the labs, in the last city. surveillance of them, grainy and terrible in quality, but thomas can make out the thin curve of newt’s mouth, the lightness of his frame, the way his body curves next to him.

how can he move on when just a photo takes his breath away?

he clings onto the pieces of newt’s memory and sobs; he’s half agony half relief, and he reaches the last page of the record and -

it’s them kissing in the last city. maybe two hours before newt died. thomas is supporting him, protecting him, but they’ve paused. newt’s fingers are soft and gentle on thomas’ jaw; thomas’ hands are protective on his waist. it was their last kiss.

he presses his mouth to the paper, and closes his eyes.

that night, he dreams of the kiss instead of newt’s body collapsing in front of him.

#newtmas #tmr #newt #the maze runner #thomas #fic #honey’s newtmas #Spotify

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veysxrge · 8 months

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Honey Brown Eyes (M.R)

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of weapons (guns/knives), death, angst, hurt no comfort

pairings: Thomas x Newt (romantic (unsaid feelings) or platonic)

inspiration: Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift

Sorry it's so short, I'll post longer ones next time!! I have one I'm writing rn that I'll post when it's done :) - Vey

Thomas felt the color drain from his face as he heard the words blare over the speakers. Beads of sweat formed as the lights flicked on, illuminating the street. He heard Newt's struggling breathing coming from a few feet behind him but he didn't dare turn... Not yet.

Thomas inhaled a shaky breath, not ready for what was about to happen. A million thoughts raced through his head, he wasn't prepared. He thought he had more time.. Finally, he slowly turned around to face his best friend. Newt stood there, black veins visible and his eyes looked vacant.

Black orbs replaced his honey brown eyes, god how Thomas loved those eyes. Any sign of Newt was long gone, the fond look in his eye that he always held for Thomas had vanished. Thomas could feel his resolve breaking, 'Why him too?' He thought.

But he didn't have time to pity himself, Newt launched himself towards Thomas, scratching and yelling as he tried to gain any sort of ground. Thomas just barely grabbed Newt's wrists, stopping the blond from attacking him.

"Newt.. C'mon buddy. You gotta hold on for me." Thomas could see something flicker in Newt's blacked out eyes, but it was quickly gone, replaced by the fury that the disease forced him to feel. He had to get to Newt, he couldn't let him go. Thomas refused to lose Newt too.

"Newt, you can't make me do this. I can't let you go too.." Tears pricked at the edges of Thomas' eyes, not ready to lose someone else that mattered so much to him. That seemed to do something, Newt's face softened as he looked at Thomas. His eyes seemed to go back and forth between black orbs and his original brown eyes. His anger turned into fear and confusion as he realized what he was doing.

“Tommy.." Newt managed, his voice sounded broken, so much emotion managed into one muster of the nickname that only Newt was allowed to call Thomas. Newt glanced around them, his arms slacking a bit as he took in the burning buildings around them.

But before Newt could question it, Thomas released Newt's wrists and cupped his cheeks, forcing the blond to look at him. "Don't look.. Just pay attention to me, okay? That doesn't matter.. Just please stay with me, Gally and Minho will be here soon." Thomas pleaded, a stray tear running down his cheek as he watched Newt struggle with control.

"Tommy.." This time his name sounded different on Newt's lips, fear and confusion gone. Instead he said it like he was scolding Thomas, disappointment and pity clear in his eyes. But Thomas refused to listen to what Newt was implying.

"No, Newt. They'll be here soon.. You can't leave me here.. I can't be alone when they get here. Please Newt." Thomas' voice cracked, more tears running down his face as he subconsciously analyzed the others' faces. Even if he refused to believe this may be the last time he saw Newt, his mind seemed to want to make sure he had the image burned into the back of his skull.

"We have to get to the Safe Haven, remember you said you wanted to help the kids learn to garden Newt." Thomas was grasping on straws and they both knew it. A soft smile appeared on Newt's face, his hand moving to grasp Thomas' shoulders as he pressed their foreheads together.

Thomas could feel his heart breaking when he saw Newt's eyes flutter closed, just trying to savor the moment while he still grasped at his sanity. "Tommy.. We know this won't last long.." Newt said, his voice hoarse as he opened his eyes again. The black was coming back, "I can't hold on anymore.. Please Tommy."

Newt grabbed his necklace, ripping it off and forcing it into Thomas' pocket before he reached for the gun that was strapped to his waist and forced it into Thomas' hand, "I can't go insane like this Tommy.. Please don't leave me here alive when this bloody disease makes me crazy."

Thomas shook his head, throwing the gun to the side before grabbing Newt's face again, "I won't let you go crazy.. Just a few more minutes, Newt. Please... I'll never let you go." Thomas could feel his hope fade as he watched Newt's fight dissipate and the flare taking control of him again.

The honey brown eyes that Thomas loved to get lost in disappeared once again. He choked back a sob that threatened to escape as he moved his hand to grip Newt's wrists again. Thomas couldn't do this, he couldn't kill Newt, couldn't hold him in his arms while life left his eyes like he had with Chuck.

Tears seemed to be permanently running down his face as his body went into autopilot, fighting off Newt. As they fought, Newt somehow grabbed Thomas' knife and overpowered him. He lost his balance, Newt falling on top of him and trying to force the knife into Thomas' chest.

Thomas heard a scream when the knife broke skin, not sure if it was his own or Newt's. It didn't matter, that scream kicked in the adrenaline. Thomas quickly pushed Newt back, twisting the knife around before it plunged into Newt's stomach. Thomas could hear ringing as he looked at Newt, the honey brown coming back for the last time.

Newt met Thomas' gaze once more, a soft smile appearing on his chapped lips as he fell to the ground. Almost immediately Thomas fell to his knees beside him, holding onto Newt's weakening body as he watched the love of his life die in his arms. He felt numb, his entire body felt numb. He couldn't even feel the tears running down his face, nor did he register the screaming that was leaving his mouth.

All he could hear was the ringing, so much ringing. And the word why. Why why why why? Thomas let out a heaving sob as he pulled Newt's body to his chest, cradling his friend's lifeless body in his arms as he did. He stayed there for a few minutes before pulling away.

The tears still streamed down his face but his face held no emotion. He brushed a stray hair out of Newt's eyes. The eyes that once held all the kindness in the world but were now dull and held no spark. Thomas placed a kiss on Newt's forehead before gently closing his eyes, "Nothing can hurt you now.." He mumbled before gently laying Newt's body down and standing up.

Thomas felt like a zombie, walking away from Newt and towards where he was needed. Not even noticing Brenda who watched him leave, nor did he hear the thundering footsteps of Minho, Gally and Frypan who held the cure for Newt. He just walked away.

#the maze runner #maze runner #thomas #newt #newtmas #thomas x newt #newt x thomas #dylan o'brien #thomas brodie sangster #thomas maze runner #newt maze runner #thomas the maze runner #newt the maze runner #angst #Spotify #newtmas fanfic

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dungeon-crawler-blorbo · 2 months

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Belkar Bitterleaf

Name: Belkar Bitterleaf Class: Knife Sharpener Original Race: Human Race: Halfling Highest Stat: Dexterity Dungeon Exit: Killed by a Country Boss on the 10th floor Club Affiliation: Desperado Notable Achievements: Player Killer (x19) Hunter Killer (x5) Paying The Ferryman With Liquid Gold - Reward: Legendary Asshole Box Sexy Shoeless God of War - Reward: Gold Shoe Box Crazy Cat Lady - Reward: Bronze Pet Box John Hammond's Envy - Reward: Legendary Pet Box Death's Little Helper - Reward: Gold Predator Box

Notable Loot: Enchanted Night Wyrm's Ring of Divine Suffering (Legendary Asshole Box) Shiv of the Floor Club (Gold Savage Box) Enchanted Dagger of Algos' Fury (Looted from Crawler) Enchanted Ring of the Grasshopper (Gold Boss Box) Enhanced Pet Biscuit (Legendary Pet Box) (Fed to Allosaurus Pet Bloodfeast the Extreme-inator resulting in its transformation into a smaller, equally durable, and significantly less lethal newt) Notable Abilities: Light On Your Feet Skill - Level 15 (12 without items) Knife Thrower Skill - Level 16 (15 without items) Find Crawler Skill - Level 10 Recall Dagger Spell - Level 11 Disturbing Mental Image Spell - Level 8

#Belkar Bitterleaf #Order of the Stick #Dungeon Crawler Carl

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screenduck · 1 year

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A Review of Alien 3 (1992)

Spoilers, obviously.

I would consider Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) tied for my favorite movie of all time, both spectacular genre-defining films that leave you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I think any film fan would agree that these movies are some of the best ever made. And when you make a sequel to an already incredible movie that's as good, if not better, you're putting pretty high expectations for whatever comes after it. So when I first heard what happens 10 minutes in to Alien 3, it's safe to say I was already really pissed.

So, possibly unfairly, I came into this movie already mad about it before I'd even seen it. I even started the movie with a counter prepared of how many times I wanted to stop watching. At the end the counter reached 11, although I might have missed a few.

Let's start with appearance. I think that the set design, cinematography, and costume design continues the Alien franchise's track record of impressive visuals. Some specific examples were that the outfits of the Weyland-Yutani people at the end gave the exact impression of what we know the company to be, and the prison cafeteria had a futuristic style while still feeling human and realistic, which most sci-fi movies don't have. There were two versions of the xenomorph in this movie, one was the classic life size suit with incredible detail that we all know and love, and the other was a small puppet that was filmed in front of a blue screen and layered onto the scenes to look like its 7 foot counterpart. The former looked amazing, as always, but the bluescreened puppet looked horrifically out of place and weirdly green. The lighting didn't match up at all and it was so obviously bluescreened. But, in the movie's defense, this was the 90s.

When it comes to the characters, let's get one thing out of the way: Hicks and Newt are dead. I think this was a horrible choice and the biggest flaw of this movie, but more on that later. I think Ripley's character in this movie is consistent with her past iterations and still shows fantastic character development, with the help from the incredible Sigourney Weaver, of course. During the cafeteria scene where she's told she's at a table of people who...aren't too fond of women, to put it lightly...and she just sits down, I absolutely loved that choice for her character. But when it came to her relationship with Clemens, it felt very forced and passionless. Their "romance" didn't feel like it had any tension or lead up, and I didn't see a powerful connection between the two. Clemens himself was a decent character, but has nothing of interest to really point out. As for the rest of the prisoners of Fury 161, they're all terrible people. And they prove to be time and time again. They have no redeeming qualities and frankly made me really uncomfortable the whole time. This is fine in some contexts, but to me it destroyed the element of suspense and thrill in them being chased by the xenomorph, because I didn't care about them. When they were killed by the xenomorph I usually felt no strong emotions, and when I did, it was happiness. When Murphy was chopped up by the fan, I thought nothing other than that it looked cool. I consider this a major fault because this movie is basically based on the thrill and suspense surrounding the xenomorph, and I think that was ruined by my apathy towards the victims.

Finally, the plot. As stated previously, in the first 10 minutes (confirmed at around 7:25) it's established that Hicks and Newt died when their EEV crashed onto Fiorina 161. Along with these characters, this marks the death of all of the character development from Aliens and the importance of much of the plot. The most important thing to Ripley in Aliens was Newt's life, and now that that's lost, everything feels pointless. To me, it ruins the movie, because it so thoroughly fucks up the importance of the movie before it, which was incredible in almost every way, and it puts a somber and hopeless tone on the whole movie that never gets resolved. I find it hard to care about anything that happens in this movie because it feels like nothing matters in the franchise anymore. Aside from that, I think the plot is generally fine, it's a pretty basic xenomorph chase plot similar to Alien. It's obviously not executed as well, but it's decent and continues a lot of the same tropes established in the previous movies that are significant in the franchise. What I also disliked about the plot is the sexual themes with the prisoners. It made me really uncomfortable and felt generally unnecessary, although it did give Ripley some character development. It also, as stated previously, caused me to feel no empathy for any of the characters as they died. The ending was interesting in a lot of ways, and I liked how we saw the creator of Bishop's line of androids and his character.

Outside of the context of this franchise I would probably give this movie a 4/10 or a 5/10, because by itself it's surprisingly mediocre. But when you factor in what's been established in previous movies, it feels like a huge decline in the franchise and a betrayal to the glory of Alien and Aliens. With this in mind, I give this movie a 3/10. I didn't cover everything in this review because the movie is a whole 2 hours and 24 minutes long, but if you haven't watched it I recommend getting a mug of hot chocolate and preparing for disappointment.

#alien 3 #alien #aliens #xenomorph #ellen ripley #sigourney weaver #david fincher #sci fi #90s movies #90s

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cherry-holland · 2 years

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The Lion, the Witch, & the Serpent

Care of Magical Feelings

Harry Potter x Latina!OC, Draco Malfoy x Latina!OC

Author’s note - so sorry for the delay, but here’s the next chapter!! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you decide this story is cool enough, feel free to show some love 💕

Everyone gathered around Hagrid’s hut when the group of four made their way to their first Care of Magical Creatures class, excited chatter filling their ears. Hagrid managed to settle all of them down before leading them into the Forbidden Forest, explaining that it was going to be a “surprise” for the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins.

The class made their way to the forest, murmurs of theories and speculation being discussed as they arrived at an opening within the wooded area. It was bordered off with a small rock barrier laid out in a large circle, with a boulder nearby. Valeria felt an odd sense of ease as she made her way into the opening, knowing that Care of Magical Creatures was one of the classes she was most excited about. Uncle Newt always made sure his son, nieces, and nephews knew about the beauty of magical creatures before their academic learnings, and made sure to have them help out with the care of such creatures. Some of Valeria’s best memories of her childhood was when her great uncle and aunt came to Massachusetts for the summer, with her uncle Mason and her cousin Rolf in tow, and brought that all-too-memorable light brown briefcase. She and Rolf would always fight over who would feed the Occamys - which, of course, she would always win. It was always a good summer when the Scamanders came, full of fond memories and hours upon hours of playing with magical creatures.

“Alright, e’ryone turn t’ page 49, and form groups o’er there,” Hagrid gestured, watching the students pile into the clearing.

“And exactly how do we do that?” Draco spat, holding his textbook begrudgingly.

“No one’s bin able t’ open their books?” Hagrid questioned. “Yeh stroke the spine, o’ course!”

Everyone chatted animatedly as they followed the directions of the giant, a series of books being silently popped open and sighs of relief filled the atmosphere.

“I thought they were funny,” Hermione said, placing her book down on the boulder.

“Oh yeah, tremendously,” Draco spat. “Definitely a smart idea to give books that want to rip our hands off… wait til my father hears about this. This place has gone to the dogs!”

“Shove it Malfoy,” Harry warned, a seething glare twisting onto his face as he slowly approached the icy blonde.

A chorus of “Oooo’s” came from the Slytherin group, and Draco shoved his backpack into his friend Blaise’s arms, slyly meeting Harry in the middle of the circle that started to form around the two boys. Valeria’s hands started to get clammy seeing Draco’s cool manner, knowing he had a trick up his sleeve.

The blonde looked up over Harry’s head, feigning a scared look as he shouted, “D-Dementor, Dementor!”

Harry‘s face grew pale as he turned around in fear, the rest of the group following suit as the Slytherins chortled, pulling their hoods up in mockery as Harry turned around to face Draco.

Valeria walked over to Harry, sensing his anger rising as she pulled him away from the Slytherin boy, casting a nasty glare at Draco as she told Harry, “Don’t worry about that asshole, ignore him.”

“Yeah, Potter, go ahead and let your girlfriend save you again,” Draco chuckled evilly, gesturing at the raven haired girl.

Valeria stopped walking as she slowly turned her head around to face Draco, her olive skin flushed with rage. “You wish you had someone other than your daddy to save you, Malfoy.”

Draco’s sly grin fell as the Gryffindors heckled him, his face twisting into fury and what looked to be something else swimming in his stormy eyes. Valeria couldn’t make it out as Hagrid interrupted the group by clearing his throat.

He moved out of the way to showcase a Hippogriff, a creature Valeria knew quite well, thanks to her great uncle. The bird-eagle-horse hybrid was massive in form, the grey and white creature happily devouring a dead fish as the students looked on in fear.

“Hagrid, what is that?” Ron asked, mouth agape.

“Tis ‘ere is a Hippogriff,” Hagrid grinned. “Beau’iful, aren’t they?”

Ron gulped loudly as Hagrid continued. “First thing yeh gotta know about hippogriffs is that they’re proud creatures, easily offended. Don’t insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh ever do.

“Always wait fer the hippogriff t’ make the first move - it's polite. What yeh wanna do is-“

“Walk towards them, bow, and then wait to see if they bow back or not,” Valeria interrupted, a smile growing on her face.

“Good job, Val! Ten points t’ Gryffindor,'' Hagrid grinned. “Right, so who wants t’ go first?”

Everyone backed away except Harry and Valeria, who were unaware of what was going on. Whispers from behind the two caused them to turn around to realize they were being selected first.

“Ah, that’s the spirit! Harry n’ Val, come on, let’s see how you lot get on with Buckbeak,” Hagrid gestured, the two Gryffindors walking over to the creature. “Val, yeh wanna show Harry how it’s done?”

Valeria nodded in response as she stepped closer to Buckbeak, meeting the creature halfway. She took a slow, graceful bow, maintaining eye contact as the hippogriff took notice of the girl. The creature huffed as he analyzed her, and took his bow after a split second, an elated grin gracing her features.

“Very well done, Val! Nevr seen anyone do it so gracefully, but I should’ve known, wit yeh bein a part o’ the Scamander fam’ly,” Hagrid beamed, the students behind giving a surprised applause. “Right, Harry, yer turn!”

Valeria blushed at Hagrid’s compliment as she stepped aside, giving Harry the stage. Harry followed what Valeria did, slowly bowing before Buckbeak, trying to maintain the eye contact of the hippogriff. Buckbeak huffed as he analyzed Harry, stomping his hoof into the ground and fluffing its wings.

“Back away, Harry,” Hagrid warned, uneasiness wavering in his voice, “easy does it…”

As Harry backed up a bit, Buckbeak took one final glance at Harry before bending on his knee, bowing at the boy. A sigh of relief escaped Hagrid’s mouth as he commended Harry on a job well done. Valeria didn’t notice that she, too, had held her breath, worried that Harry would be caught in the crossfires of a hippogriff.

“Right, yeh lot can go pet him now,” Hagrid urged them, gesturing to Buckbeak.

Valeria and Harry made their way to Buckbeak, gently petting his silvery beak. He lazily closed his eyes, giving a gentle nudge at the two teens as the class erupted in applause.

“Great job!” Hagrid complemented. “Now, I reckon he might let yeh ride him now!”

“What?” Harry asked, before getting plopped down onto Buckbeak by Hagrid.

Valeria giggled as Hagrid placed her on the hippogriff, behind Harry. Hagrid explained how to hold onto Buckbeak as Valeria’s cheeks flushed. I’m gonna be so close to him, she thought, hands growing clammy.

“Go on, then!” Hagrid exclaimed at Buckbeak, giving him a slap on his behind before the creature lifted his wings, soaring up into the sky.

Valeria let out a gasp as she held on tightly to Harry’s waist, burying her face into his back as he held on firmly to Buckbeak’s neck. Harry’s face grew hot as he felt Valeria’s warm breath tickle his spine, realizing the close proximity they were to each other. He relished in feeling her small, delicate hands wrap around his waist for dear life as they soared through the sky, the warmth of her touch spreading through him like wildfire. He had never been this close to anyone like this before, let alone a girl, and he vowed to never let that feeling go away.

It had become clear to him since that day he bumped into Valeria at Diagon Alley that she was someone special, someone that he never thought he would feel any sort of way about. Hell, he never thought about anyone that way. He had never met someone as kind, bold, and smart as she was, and how she affected his every being. It vexed him how he felt so much about a girl he knew so very little about, especially in such a short time, but he had a feeling deep down that Valeria Lopez was meant to be in his life for a long time. He had no idea why he felt this way - it was more of a knowledge, an understanding that she was going to be infiltrating his every thought (literally and figuratively) and his heart.

Valeria’s face was still warm with scarlet as she turned her head to lean on Harry’s back as she looked out into the late morning sky. It was very clear to her how much she was crushing on The Boy Who Lived, ever since he came by her room at The Leaky Cauldron to check on her, but being this close? It drove her mind wild, knowing that she could smell his cologne - it had notes of fresh spruce, orange, and pine - and his own personal scent, which reminded Valeria of a cozy cardigan fresh from the washer and dryer. Harry Potter smelled like comfort… he was her comfort, her own personal blanket of peace that she didn’t even know she needed. She felt safe around him, and knew that she would do anything to keep him as safe as she felt with him, to reciprocate that feeling for the rest of her life.

Buckbeak flew closer to the Black Lake, letting his foot graze the water as Valeria and Harry looked over at each other, blushed faces and looks of excitement taking over their features. Harry grinned as he turned around to let his hands stick out on either side, relishing this feeling of freedom, of peace, with nothing and no one bothering the two. Valeria laughed at Harry as he let out an excited holler, the girl following suit. It was a rush of exhilaration that washed over the third-years, captured in a moment that would forever be cemented in their best memories at Hogwarts, a moment neither of them wanted to forget - them riding Buckbeak over the Black Lake, the two of them realizing their growing feelings for the other, blissfully unaware of what’s to come.

Taglist: @osterfield-holland-andcompany

#harry james potter #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter prisoner of azkaban #harry potter #prisoner of azkaban #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy #fantastic beasts secrets of dumbledore #fantastic beats the crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #my writing

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eadrey-the-iptscray · 6 months

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MUSIC ASK ANSWERS (aka an excuse to gush about my favorite fic)

From Tumblr user benedictervention who's now deactivated. The fic in question is "A Rare Thing, Indeed" on AO3.

1 - A song you like with a color in the title "Jet Pack Blues" by Fall Out Boy the Mako Mori song!!

2 - A song you like with a number in the title "Synchronicity I" by The Police soundtrack for the first scene 😍

3 - A song that reminds you of summertime "Golden" by Parade of Lights not technically for a summer scene but close enough

4 - A song that reminds you of someone something you they would rather forget about "Lock Down" by Gothic Storm soundtrack for the Obsidian Fury attack

5 - A song that needs to be played LOUD "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins Raleigh would be the guy obsessed with Top Gun

6 - A song that makes you them want to dance "The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra I think Raleigh & Mako do dance to this song

7 - A song to drive to "Shinwa Houkai" by Hello Sleepwalkers canon, actually

8 - A song about drugs or alcohol "Gin Tonic" by Parov Stelar no lyrics but the title counts, right?

9 - A song that makes you happy "Jamais Vu" by BTS wistful like this chapter

10 - A song that makes you sad "Brother" by Kodaline Yancy 😭

11 - A song that you never get tired of "What's Up Danger" by Blackway feat. Black Caviar listening to it now, actually

12 - A song from your their preteen years "I Hear a Symphony" by Pizzicato Five sadly none of their songs are on Spotify

13 - One of your favorite '80s songs "Hells Bells" by AC/DC Chuck is a big fan of them

14 - A song that you they would love played at your their wedding "To Make You Feel My Love" by Daichi Miura Mako is a big fan of him

15 - A song that is a cover by another artist "The Sound of Silence" by Pentatonix haunting

16 - One of your favorite classical songs "Pomp & Circumstance March No. 1" by Edward Elgar I think it's the only "classical" song in my ARTI playlist

17 - A song that they would sing a duet with on karaoke "Change" by ONE OK ROCK not really a karaoke song but it's upbeat enough

18 - A song from the year that you were born "Shove" by L7 not technically from the year I was born but same decade at least

19 - A song that makes you think about life "everything i wanted" by Billie Eilish this song screams nostalgia kills

20 - A song that has many meanings to you "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls it had negative associations before I put it in my fic

21 - A favorite song with a person’s name in the title "Call Me Newt" by Ramin Djawadi funky & upbeat

22 - A song that moves you forward "RISE - Remix" by League of Legends feat. BOBBY, Mako, The Glitch Mob, and The World Alive soundtrack for one of the combat chapters

23 - A song that you think everybody should listen to "Don't Leave Me" by BTS one of their underrated songs

24 - A song by a band you wish were still together "Shakey Ground" by The Temptations technically The Temptations is still around but the band has had a ton of lineup changes since the '60s

25 - A song by an artist no longer living "Tough Love" by Avicii feat. Agnes and Vargas & Lagola 😔

26 - A song that makes you them want to fall in love "Love Sick" by SHINee Mako is a Kpop stan and you can't change my mind

27 - A song that breaks your heart "Wrecked" by Imagine Dragons Tam 😭

28 - A song by an artist with a voice that you love "ocean eyes" by Billie Eilish her voice is so deep I love it

29 - A song that you remember from your childhood "Sail" by Jack Trammell makes me think of being on Tumblr in the good ol' days

30 - A song that reminds you of yourself "Waste It On Me" by Steve Aoki feat. BTS I can still remember the first time I heard this song

#a rare thing indeed

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mischief-marauders · 2 years

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If you snatched Harry Potter from JK Rowling’s cold fingers and handed it to Disney, we’d have a solid universe with 9 movies (Order of the Phoenix split into two movies), with a marauders series releasing in between the movies coming out. Along with these two, we’d get a Voldemort Rising series, Black Family project, and then a couple of projects about the other wizarding schools that tie directly into Harry Potter and multiple crossovers. Dream movie? Scrap the ending of Deathly Hallows, have Voldemort win and kill literally every single person and demolish Hogwarts. Except one person survives. The brightest witch Hogwarts has ever seen. Hermione on the run with all of the wizarding world after her. Just as they close in on her, she uses the time turner and travels throughout time to pick up a couple of things. Final battle is Hermione time traveling to the moment Voldemort arrived at Hogwarts with his death eaters and Hagrid with a dead Harry Potter in his hands. Voldemort laughs at her as she stands there, bruised and bloody, a wand in one hand and the sword of Gryffindor in the other. He sneers at her and says “You’re all alone. A little mudblood left.” As Voldemort points his wand at Hermione and gets ready to kill her, a blast of magic from behind her hits Voldemort and sends him flying into a wall. As he gets up angrily, Hermione grins and says “Who said I came alone?” and from the shadows behind her, Lily Evans in her prime steps out, fury lighting her green eyes. Then behind Lily Evans, we see James step out with Sirius. All of them young. Then from the shadows of Hogwarts, more and more arrive. Regulus Black. Pandora Lovegood. Emmeline Vance. Dorcas Meadowes. Marlene McKinnon. The entire original Order of the Phoenix steps out. More and more start to surround them. Cedric Diggory. Dobby. Every single person who died at the hands of Voldemort, all brought back by Hermione and her time turner. That’s not all she brought. The founders of Hogwarts also step out. Newt Scammander with his lovely beasts. A entire army filled with fury and magic surrounds Voldemort and his death eaters, exactly like the final battle of Avengers: Endgame with Hermione as Captain America, ready to fight an entire army by herself if she needs to.

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newtgottlieb · 3 years

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Acoustic guitar playing Hermann has taken over every coherent thought in my brain. I am never not thinking about this headcannon.

He originally starts learning it because Lars says he needs to pick up a string instrument to be "more well rounded". Now, while he doesn't specify aloud, both he and baby Hermann know what that he meant was orchestral strings. In a streak of pure rebellion, Hermann picks up a guitar at the music store instead, because it's just him and his mother and she's not about to stop her son when it still technically follows what Lars had said (She tried really hard to make up for Lars, you know?).

But then Hermann falls in love with the instrument a little, and it just becomes a a habit: feeling stressed? go pick up the guitar and have a quiet little playing and singing session. He likes slower songs because they're calming to both play and sing.

Then, of course when he and Newt start corresponding, and he maybe sort of falls in love a little, he figures why shouldn't he start composing little love songs? He swears they'll never see the light of day, but it's a good way to get his feelings out.

After they have their initial falling out, he uses music to calm down from the shock and fury. Then when they're assigned to work together at the Shatterdome, and he just maybe is falling in love again, well. Surely it's no harm to pull out the old compositions for a little. Just in private, just in his room and maybe once or twice in the lab when no one's around.

Newt walks in on him once, and begs him to play something when he realizes that Holy Shit Hermann Has Anyone Ever Told You Your Voice Is Amazing? And Hermann reluctantly obliges him because Newt can be very persistent when he wants to be, and before long it's become a silent agreement that Newt and Newt alone is allowed to listen in on Hermann's playing. He doesn't play his little love songs with Newt around, but he plays other stuff. Lets Newt request one or two songs, even, if they're to his tastes (No, Newton, I am /not/ singing "All Star").

Hermann's guitar becomes a comfort to the both of them as the events of the first movie pull close, and then afterwards, it's a terribly fine way to destress from what they thought might've been the end of everything. And, well, if Hermann starts throwing in a couple of his old love songs for Newt to hear after their drift, that's neither here nor there.

#this got way longer than i thought it would lol #i do have a baby of a playlist of songs that hermann would sing if anyone's interested #lizard screaming #pacific rim #pacrim #newmann #newt geiszler #hermann gottlieb #newtmann #newton geiszler #also tysm to amari on the newmann discord for bringing this hc up once bc i just never stopped thinking about ut #kaijuheadcanontag

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siren-of-redriver96 · 3 years

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Idea for a first trailer

(shot of a street covered in dust, at night, wind blowing across)

Grindewald, voiceover: My brothers...

Fade-in of a man’s shape, shadowy, skinny (Credence)

Grindelwald: voiceover: My sisters.

Fade-in of a woman’s shape with curly hair (Queenie)

Grindelwald voiceover: The world …

Cut to his followers, people of all nations

Cut to black, then to him addressing his followers: … is waiting.

(pause in the music)

Standing behind him, among his eagerly looking inner circle of followers,Queenie holds Credence’ arm, as he stares blanky, but determinedly, ahead, slight fury in his eyes

Cut to an empty court room, the music speeding up a little

Theseus, voiceover: He won’t wait much longer.

Theseus: (sitting next to Dumbledore in the empty room) (worriedly) Are we ready?

Dumbledore: (looks at him with half a smile, but doesn’t answer)

Newt, voiceover: He’s gathered all his means – much more than he needs.

Much more.

(scenes of armies of followers, focus on the inner circle members, always standing above them – Rosier, Kraft, Carrow, Nagel – Grimmson too, entering what seems to be a prison – a giant shadow with wings falls onto him as he smiles)

Cut to Tina, looking determinedly: And so did we.

(Warner brothers logo)

Cut to a meeting room, a projector showing pictures of buildings in Rio

Travers, voiceover: According to rumors, Grindelwald is about to send a delegation of certain people to Rio de Janeiro.

Cuts to Nagel, Kraft, Rosier, Carrow.

The projectors shows pictures of Rosier, then Queenie and Credence – Tina is shown, their photos mirroring in her eyes – she tries to stay composed, breathing out to calm herself, but her eyes water

Travers, taking to the people in the meeting room, yet out of sight: Whatever he is planning, we must interfere. If only to find out his next steps – this is not a random move by him. (looks at Dumbledore)

Dumbledore: (shakes his head slightly) It must have meaning.

Travers: And he won’t disclose it freely. We need … (hesitates shortly)… experts.

Shots of Bunty, Yusuf, Nagini, Jacob, Theseus, Tina …

Travers, voiceover: For all things that he may throw at us… (he looks to the side of the room, where a shadowy figure is leaning against the wall, above a suitcase)

Cut to Newt’s face, stern: We’ll see about things, sir.

Eulalie Hicks, voiceover: We’re going on an expedition.

(shot of the group and her walking, dressed in variations of blue)

Eulalie Hicks, voiceover: To the edge of our world…

(shots of Rio, the city, the surrounding amazon forests)

Eulalie Hicks, voiceover: While the worlds are on an edge …

(pictures of another ministry meeting, showing pictures of the situation in Europe concerning Grindelwald and the muggles, then scenes of muggles, boarding the same ship as the group, looking around worriedly)

Cut to professor Hicks, putting on her coat: It’s a pleasure to finally go on a mission with you!

Nagini: See if you still say that next week.

(Everyone smirks to differing degrees)

Scene at night, of the Cristo Redentor statue

Credence, voiceover: He’s out there.

Shot of the group, walking along a busy street – he’s watching from a roof. Zoom on Tina, then him, seeming insecure.

Cut to Queenie on the other roof, looking away sadly.

Credence, voiceover: He’s sent an army.

Cut to them sitting on the statue, Queenie and him sitting on his arm, staring over the city as they hold onto each other.

Credence, voiceover: He thinks it’s enough to end me.

(shots of the group fighting, Tina and Theseus blowing up a wall, or Newt throwing a swooping evil – then of Yusuf jumping off a balcony, turning into a pied crow mid-flight, Nagini in snake-form, hissing at the camera)

Credence, pressing Queenie’s hand, with an almost apologetic look:

It’s time.

Queenie, nodding: (hesitantly, regretfully) It’s up.

Cut to her sitting on his back as he leaps off the hand, turning into Obscurial form and heading into the clouds above Rio, causing lightings in them as he passes through – Jacob is shown watching from a balcony, distraught

The title card appears, music

(Queenie’s voice echoing in the background, singing) You charmed the heart right out of me...

2022

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #FBAWFT #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts series #fantastic beasts 3

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weasleydream · 4 years

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Crabs and fishes

Hi guys! How are you?

I’m sorry this is sooo late but this is for @blisfvll‘s writing challenge! I’m really sorry I only publish it today, but I hope you’ll still like it, even though it’s not angsty! The prompts are “Your hair is so soft.” and “I think I just fell in love.”

To be honest, I’m not satisfied but I don’t know how I could write it better so I give up 😫 (and i’m way too lazy to look for mistakes so let’s hope it’s not a big disaster)

Anyways, enjoy!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

The Weasley twins were the coolest guys in Gryffindor and in seventh year. Probably even in the whole school, in fact. I didn’t know them as much as I wanted but my priorities weren’t to prank and send Filch up the wall, which was obviously theirs. Since my first day here, I had focused on my grades and since the beginning of my second year, on Quidditch. This was the only common point between Fred, George and I: they were beaters in the team and I was a chaser.

Well, that was until the day this awful Umbridge forbade Fred, George and Harry to play. At this point of the year, things had already begun extra hard for everyone, and I wasn’t an exception. I had the impression I was risking my life with the upcoming NEWTs, both my parent’s place at the Ministry were threatened, Umbridge was insufferable and now Angelina, the captain of the team, was becoming a fury after each training.

In one word: I felt like my life was ending, and it seemed to be the same for half of the students. And the twins, in all of this? They were imagining all the ways possible to cheer us up. Pranks after pranks, their goal was to always make one more person laugh, because it meant that Umbridge had a grip on a person’s happiness less. Their last idea, and in my opinion, probably one of the best, was to organize a big party in the room of requirements.

No sooner said than done, they had gathered enough food, butterbeer and firewhiskey for a regiment, and three days after their big announcement in the common room, here I was, pacing in front of the invisible door. When it opened, Fred was waiting behind.

“Y/N, I didn’t think we would see you here!” he exclaimed before winking. “Does that mean you know how to have fun?”

“Biggest surprise of the year!” added George who had closed behind me.

“How fun you are, you two! I bet I know how to have a good time more than you two!”

Fred lifted an eyebrow.

“You bet, huh?”

Despite my brain being slower than ever, I managed to think that betting with Fred wasn’t the best idea I had. After six bottles of butterbeer and an undefined number of firewhiskey shooters, my steps were more than unsteady and I saw myself falling more than once. However, I was quite proud to see that Fred was drunk too, and the result was really funny.

“Here Y/N look at- too late.”

Frem smiled broadly, three bottles exploded on the floor at his feet.

“You’re an amateur, Freddie.”

Two seconds later, three other bottles were on the floor, and without knowing how I had done that, I was covered in butterbeer. My shirt was sticking to my skin, and Fred was laughing too hard to even think of helping me.

“I don’t think casting a spell is a good idea.” he eventually said when tears had stopped rolling his cheeks. “I mean, I can try, but at your own risks. You could end up with a third arm, or… Imagine if you had a-”

“I get it, I’ll go back to the common room.” I interrupted.

I turned the heels, decided to show him I wasn’t drunk, then I bumped into someone and fell on my arse.

“You need a bit of help?”

I groaned and grabbed Fred’s hand. He wrapped his arm around my waist and we hopped cheerfully in the corridors, arm in arm and absolutely not giving a fuck about the fact that we shouldn’t have been here. The fat lady threw us a reprobatory look but opened without a word and I practically ran in my dorm to get rid of these stinking clothes. I came back to the common room a few minutes later, still panting after the struggle I had faced to slip in my pants. Fred was sitting on the floor just in front of the fire and I came next to him.

“What are we looking at?” I murmured, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere even though I couldn’t really feel it at the moment.

Fred reacted two seconds later and grinned.

“Dunno, what do you want to look at?”

“Is that your way to flirt?”

“Absolutely. Is that your way to react when someone flirts with you?”

“Yep.”

And we both looked back at the fire, absorbed in confused thoughts. I broke the silence a few minutes later.

“I’m thirsty.”

“Then drink.”

“You’re a genius.”

“I know.”

Fred winked at me and gestured toward the table next to the chimney. A silver carafe was shining with the fire light along with two cups. I groaned, my muscles were beginning to hurt as the alcohol was making its way in my body. However, the unpleasant sensation in my mouth made me gather my courage and stand up. My movement was too fast and my head began to turn. I knew I would fall and used the first thing that came at hand to catch myself…

“Your hair is so soft!”

Both my hands were stuck in Fred’s ginger hair, and I looked at them in awe. I moved slowly my hands, my nails gently touching his skin.

“I’m feeling like a cat.” said Fred, his grin clearly being heard in his voice.

“Cats are cute!” I replied. “And you’re purring like a cat.”

“Like a lion, please.” He said with a false hurt tone.

“Like a kitten, my dear Freddie.”

“Let me guess, kittens are cute?”

“Absolutely. And before you ask, yes, you’re cute too, Freddie.”

“I wasn’t going to ask, I already knew it, my dear Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes and left to get the carafe, a very strange feeling of emptiness sinking in me, a feeling that even the fresh water didn’t ease. I gained back my place next to Fred and yawned ostensibly. Without thinking, a thing I was unable to do anyway, I leaned on the side and rested my hand on Fred’s shoulder.

“Tired, love?”

“Yes, kitten.”

I closed my eyes and opened them what felt like a second later when Fred faltered.

“I”m sorry, I didn’t want to-”

“No, don’t worry,” he interrupted me while pulling me back against him. “I feel better with you being close to me. And you?”

“Me what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I’ve seen that you’ve not been feeling well lately. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, don’t worry.”

And even though he didn’t ask, I understood that Fred was ready to listen to me if I needed to talk.

“You know, life’s not easy… It’s not a pretty beach under the sun with shining water where you enjoy the sweet warmth of the sand.” I glanced at Fred and was slightly surprised to see that he wasn’t laughing at me. “If you walked on life's beach, your feet would burn and awful crabs would eat your toes.”

“Who is the crab for you?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t know… Umbridge, You-Know-Who… Guess there are a lot of crabs out there.”

“Trus enough…” He paused for a second before continuing. “You know, I don’t think having your toes eaten by crabs is the worst.”

“What could be worse?”

“You could get hit by a wave of fish pee.”

“Fred you’re gross!” I exclaimed before exploding in laughter. “You’re right I would rather lose a toe.”

I put my head back on Fred’s shoulder, which was still shaken by his chuckles. He wrapped his arm around me and tightened me, showing me a comfort I would have never expected from him before.

“You know, I feel like a fish sometimes.” I whispered.

“Why? You use to swim in your pee?”

“You’re a child Freddie, you know that? No, what I mean is that all I do is swimming through the problems that are trying to drown me. I feel like- like a little golden fish in the middle of the ocean, you know?”

“Yeah… No.”

“Nevermind.” I whispered before feeling myself falling forward.

Fred caught me and made me lean against him, murmuring “I think I just fell in love.”

#blisfvllswritingchallenge #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

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broken crown | v.

“You’re inherited some of his traits,” Harry mentions from the armchair, “I mean you like to spew out wisdom at random times or mumble some incoherent words that are definitely not English or Latin, you’ve got his rage, his passion, his wonder and skill.”

Word Count: 1,561

A/n: Truth be told, idk if this make sense but I hope it does

< Previous | Next >

Remus was alone in the house, after mere hours of the wedding ended, he and Tonks got into an argument, about the child she was carrying. He was alone again, in his home. Tonks decided to stay with her dad and mum whilst she cooled off - Sirius came crashing with them as well, wondering how well his cousin was doing.

Remus creeks the door open to your room, it was spotless and probably the first time he had seen it so clean. Your room felt cold, despite the summer sun shining through the windows, lighting up your Gryffindor banners and such. He looks at your bookshelves, the rows of books you had written neatly on its spine.

Year One: September - December.

The first one in the row, in the eighteen notebooks of your years. One to six, of course, there were other notebooks stood up with them, when Remus looks he didn’t understand it as it was either advance Latin or runes he could not decipher. When you had moved into his home, you had also brought yourself a chest, Remus didn’t questioned it, but whenever he had come into your room - the chest seemed to be locked.

He’ll admit, there’s time curiosity had gotten the best of him and he’s tried to unlock it. But, it wouldn’t budge. Remus sits on your bed, looking around the room, even with your Gryffindor banners and such, your room was full of pictures. You seem to dedicate a wall for them, many of the pictures were with you and the trio as you grow up, some was with your mother, and others with him.

Remus felt alone.

“Leave-!”

Harry had screamed at Remus, who had unexpectedly turned up at their hideout, explaining his situation. Remus could not see you in the kitchen with the three, unknown to him that you were sitting on the stairs listening to him. You grit your teeth as you wanted to explode, it hadn’t been a day yet and he was already here.

You scoffed as you hear his story, your father abandoning Tonks because she is with a child - he fears that he had passed down his gene, and yet there was you. You adored Tonks, you found her charming and had a fiery personality, she was a great addition to the family. You hear Remus leaving the kitchen, about to go down the hallway when he stops to hear your voice.

“What am I to you?”

Remus turns around, sharply, he had hoped that you hadn’t heard his conversation with Harry. But, unfortunately, you did. There were a few things Remus had feared, one the full moon, and secondly, the hatred within your eyes. It wasn’t quite a hatred, perhaps it was offence, disappointment.

“Is that why you ran away from mum and me?” You steamed, refraining yourself from standing up and towering over him, “We could have been a happy family, you could have been-”

You stopped, lip quivering as your hands shook with rage. Those times as a child when you craved for your father was because he was too much of a coward. Your dad was practically a stranger to you at the age of nine, the age when he found the courage to meet you - not through the letters or the pictures.

“I was trying to protect you from me...”

“NINE YEARS DAD,” You shouted, your best friend cringing how your voice broke with anger, “I never have shown signs of me being a werewolf, so why should this child have them? What are you going to do - be a coward?”

And that stung, Remus’ shoulders deflated, as if Harry hadn’t convinced him enough to go back to Tonks, you were doing one hell of a job and stabbing whilst at it.

“Are you going to run away forever? Come back nine years after to greet this child, that poor child doesn’t deserve that!” You exclaimed, “What if this is the end? What if we die and that child doesn’t get to have a dad, a brother? All because you were too afraid to show your face.”

You had roared, standing up as Remus took a step back, he hadn’t known you could produce such wrath and how it was terrifying to be around. Your eyes burned, and not with a fiery passion, it burns dark with a burning hatred of the moment.

“Go-”

“(Y/n), please-”

“Come back to me when you’re a man,” You seethed, taking a step down the stairs towards him, he steps back again, wanting to keep a distance from you, “Come back to me when I see my father again, until then, I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

Remus looks at you, fury and rage had not dispersed as you threaten to take another step. Knowing not to push you over the edge, he makes a run out of the house, apparenting away.

“(Y/n)?” Hermione softly says, noticing you had made your father run, “Please calm down...”

You took a deep breath, sitting back down on the stairs. Your hands flying to support your head. She sat down next to you, her hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you hold back a sob.

“It’ll be alright, (Y/n),” Hermione soothes, “He’ll turn around and go back to Tonks.”

“I feel like I was too harsh,” You responded, looking at her, defeated, “That was my dad, I shouldn’t have talked to him like that-”

“He’ll understand.”

It had been a few days camping in the home of the Blacks. Kreature had summoned Mundugus Fletcher and that’s when you and the group had devised a plan to get the necklace from Umbridge. It’ll take a month before everyone could set out, so there were many nights and days where you would be sitting around and talk. Anything and everything.

“I never asked,” Hermione spoke out from the piano bench, looking at you who was on the floor, looking up at the ceiling blankly, “(Y/n), what did you get in your OWL’s?”

“Yeah,” Ron hummed in agreement, “You should have gotten good grades since you’re Merlin.”

You raised an eyebrow, “I got an O in DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes and Potions - which is surprising because I was horrible at potions and Snape hated me. Pretty sure I scrape that grade, then again, if Snape hated me that much he would have graded me lower so I didn’t have to go to his NEWT lessons.”

The group chuckled remembering how you would start getting on Snape’s nerves and always struggled with memorising the ingredients.

“I got E in Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy. And then A in History of Magic,” You shrugged your shoulders, “In all honesty, average, why?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as you sat up, “I was curious, since you’re, you know, you?”

“Merlin was extraordinary in charms, that’s why they call him-”

“Prince of Enchantments,” Hermione nodded, smiling, almost excitedly, “I read that somewhere...”

She blushed as Ron stares lovingly at her, you shared a look with Harry before looking at Hermione with a grin your face.

“That’s correct, Merlin seems to be a peacemaker, but I don’t doubt for a minute that Merlin was poor in offence magic - he was at Arthur’s side for a reason. I just often wonder why me?”

“His rage?” You tilted your head in questioning.

“Yeah,” Ron draws you attention, “You have two types of anger, your normal state and a state where you have such threatening aura, it seems like the powers of your ancestors are with you, like invisible shadows defend you sort of thing, we call it Merlin rage.”

“Huh,” You mumbled, “I never noticed.”

“You always get caught up that’s why,” Ron continues, “Like what Harry says, you also get caught up that you start speaking words we don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Force of habit,” You shrugged your shoulders, “I guess.”

“You’re powerful,” Hermione murmurs as you looked at her, your shoulders deflated, “You were ahead of everyone in school, it’s a wonder how you got average grades.”

“I was caught up like you said, I got bored with that stuff I wanted to know more about Merlin. His spells, his notes, years worth of his adventures with Arthur and his battles with Morgana. I practised day in and day out of his spells, they are complicated and every day, I get frustrated. That he’s bestowed this purpose on me, his powers on me. I spent more time in Dumbledore’s office trying to harness it, trying to control it. I have managed to do a fraction of it - by my age, Merlin was extraordinary and I am not-”

“Yes, you are,” Harry cuts you off, as you snapped your head towards him, “You are extraordinary, you just don’t see it.”

You sighed, of course, they see you as some extraordinary figure. How can you lead an example when you can barely control what has been gifted - it would be selfish of you if you hadn’t gotten this glorious gift, but you never asked for it.

Tagged

@carefulthatsharassment-sir @lanlanlan020202 @hanniejji @dumbssbtch @lea-the-foxe @stan-joonies @littertortilla

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin x male reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x male reader #x male reader #broken crown

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uthseikoashx-inflamedme · 4 years

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What I would love to see in the next Fantastic Beasts movies

(as always, sorry for the mistakes and for my poor english, I’m not a native speaker, etc! I will continue to correct it)

If you already read other posts I wrote, you know that I’m into plans and organised texts. So here we go again.

Just to be clear:

it's neither a request, nor what I think we should or need to see, and I won't be mad if we don't have the following scenes it in the next films. (I do have an opinion on what can be interessing to include in the movies, but again, it's my opinion! just ideas, and a lot of questions without answers also, etc) (and well it’s not groundbreaking but who cares)

About Newt and his friends

About Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald

About the Summer of 1899

About the other characters

About the Wizarding Society, Muggle world, etc

Some explanations we would like to have

1. About Newt and his friends

- Newt as a selfless and intrepid hero who loves all of the magic creatures

- To be honest, all the team as dauntless and loveable heroes and heroins facing bad guys (and Jacob - who’s already the kindest and smoothest man - being also incredibly brave)

- Newt and Tina, as a couple, loving each other, fighting together, having each other back, growing stronger and more confident with each other (like they’re fighting and are in symbiosis) (in the last film obviously)

- Queenie Goldstein as a powerful witch while she explains why she joined Grindelwald’s side - because she believes Ministry is going to do nothing for her, because she believes in a brighter future without the Statute

- (At least) some clues about Nagini’s and Riddle’s meeting

- Credence’s true family? And because his past is quite tragic and he’d already gone through awful experiences, maybe his happy end?

- Theseus not knowing how to act after Leta’s death: should he follow blindly the Ministry? Trust Dumbledore, his brother and the rest of the team?

- A character eventually agreeing with some of Grindelwald’s ideas about magic things which shouldn’t be hide and stuff, but fighting against him anyway (well, most likely Queenie)

2. About Albus Dumbledore and (or) Gellert Grindelwald

- Albus Dumbledore as the charismatic, incredibly marvellous and skilled wizard he is, while people around him are impress by his aura: imagine Albus walking in the Ministry, and people who are supposed to protect the whole country are amazed, even scared: he’s stunning, blazing with power (and with cold fury, because the Ministry obviously did something stupid and Dumbledore is mad at them)

(at this point, we finally understand why he is the most powerful, skilled, prodigious, dazzling wizard of his age)¹

- Albus with colourful and amazing clothes

- Albus facing his Boggart (which is supposed to be Ariana’s corpse, but well, who knows)²

- Gellert Grindelwald facing his Boggart (what could it be?) (ok, I’m just curious here)

- The backstory of the Deluminator: why and when Albus developed this magical device? Did he always used it to have fun with light, or was it initially a more personal object? Had Albus created the Deluminator to find Gellert Grindelwald to fight him, at the end?

- A funny and arrogant (and bitter?) Dumbledore’s rejoinder, while he’s conscious of his marvellous mind and skills (like in the books)

- Dumbledore’s reaction when he discovers who is the actual Master of Elder Wand (again, i’m curious)

- Are Grindelwald’s mismatched eyes™ a sign of something important about his past, his abilities? is his hair white - and not anymore blond - because of Dark magic?

- A moment when we see how Dumbledore is able to manipulate surrounding people, including allies and friends

- A heartbreaking and breathtaking dialogue in 1945, while they fight against each other - and I wonder if - how - they are going to talk about their past, shared ambition and dreams, sentiments, guilt, regrets, etc

3. About the Summer of 1899

- To be honest, it’s mostly: Albus and Gellert as remarkable, arrogant, impish, brillant and not wise at all young wizards in a flashback of 1899

passionate discussions about the Hallows, politics, the Statute, or complex magic things

wandless magic, non-verbal spells, forbidden and dangerous rituals³

Albus’ reactions while Gellert has his visions (was he already able to control his Seer’s abilities?)

how they have fun (common sense of humour, a bit bitter and jeering one most likely?)

And thanks those very quick scenes, we understand why Albus and Gellert fell in love with each other - they both were a freedom symbol for the other in a way, all what they always desired and dreamed of - and their common ambition elevated them, made them wanted a bright and glorious future

(ok, too much to show, yes, i know)

- Also, an already dangerous and extreme Gellert and an in-denial Albus (about the Inferi army, etc)

- A glimpse of the relationship between Abelforth and Ariana, between Albus and his family, and between Gellert and Albus’ siblings

(edit: and yeah i forgot, a kiss or something - an act only did by lovers and not best friends, because there are still people believing they are friends - and their relationship is technically still not canon?)

4. About the other characters

- Adult Abelforth, loathing his brother, suffuring

- Tom Riddle at Hogwarts, possibly facing Dumbledore, or as a young charismatic awful future Dark wizard, or acting like he’s jealous of Grindelwald’s influence and like he already wants to surpass him

(it could be great to see him, at least few seconds, to build the bridge between FB and HP and most importantly to have a more detailed vision of Wizarding modern History, you know what i mean?)

- Ministry people who do not like Dumbledore because it’s funny

- A character who’s scared by the war and finally who gives up, and who runs away to try to be as far as possible from the political troubles

(it would show how war is an ordeal - I do not have the impression that the pressure and all were something so exposed in HP books, it could be great to see it?)⁴

- Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Cornelius Fudge, etc, being young - if they are already born in 1945? It’s not written anywhere so idk

- edit: I forgot Hagrid, it could be awesome to see him as a teen in the last movie during the events of the Chamber of Secrets’ first opening!

5. About the Wizarding Society, Muggle world, ect

- The consequences of Grindelwald’s actions around the wizarding world and in the Muggle world: how things are destroyed, how he influences the governments

- The influence of rich and conservative pure-blood families through the war: how several of the sacred-28 families supported Grindelwald, how they influenced the whole magic society, why their inaction killed people, how the Ministry is corrupted, why it didn’t really change, even after the end of the war⁵

- The same conservative influence but in the very heart of character’s life: how Nagini is marginalized, for example⁶

- Why not political opinions expressed by several characters, to show how politics is a delicate and intricate subject, and why neither Albus Dumbledore nor Gellert Grindelwald are all white / all black, how Grindelwald gain influence, etc

6. Some explanation we would like to have

- Why is Albus Dumbledore DADA teacher? We know he wrote articles in Transfiguration Today before graduating, so why teaching DADA? (guilt, will to help young people to not be tempted by Dark magic and power like he was, or was there simply already a Transfiguration teacher?)(should I mention it’s never said in the HP books?)

- When and why will Albus be the Transfiguration teacher? (edit: we have clues in FBtCoG because Travers says Albus is not going to be allowed to teach DADA anymore so I guess it explains it)

- How can Minerva McGonagall be at Hogwarts, already be a young woman - if I remember well, she’s not even born? Or extremely young?

- How Gellert Grindelwald summoned a phoenix - and more likely, let’s theorize, how might he summon and control Fawkes?

(because Credence can’t be a Dumbledore - or at least, can’t be directly related to Albus, Ariana, Kendra and Percival - or is he the illegitimate and secrete son of Abelforth? a cousin of Albus?

but if we consider Credence is not a Dumbledore, Gridelwald had been able to control a phoenix which is linked to thhe Dumbledores, right? is it thanks the blood pact? of because of Credence’s Obscurus? we don’t know

edit: or there is the theory about Credence being created by the philosopher’s stone I guess, so with Ariana’s Obscurial and most likely Albus’ blood)

- Why nobody knew that Grindelwald and Dumbledore met each other when they were teenagers, when Rita Skeeter published Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore in 1998?

(i’m not so angry, i’m mostly confused)

The Ministry knew Albus met Gellet Grindelwald in 1899, right? How can a that huge information be a secret during decades? Why Rita Skeeter only found it after Dumbledore’s death? Albus said they used to be “closer than brothers”: after that and because Travers doubted of Dumbledore’s true side, Albus had been restricted and watched by the Ministry during FBCoG. It should exist papers, files, archives which confirmed all of this. So why everybody forgot that Gellert and Albus knew each other when they were young?

- Or about Albus’ and Gellert’s former close relationship, didn’t Travers or Theseus understand they were lovers? Or if they understood, they - again - didn’t tell it? (Travers is not fond of Dumbledore, it could have been a scandal, why he didn’t say it?) Can all of that make any sense?

- Why isn’t the Blood Pact ever mentioned in Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore - or most likely, how everybody (Albus; Gellert; Newt and Newt’s friends; the Minstry; Grindelwald’s acolytes, etc) had succeed to hide it from the press and the whole magic society?

That’s already a lot so let’s stop here Half of it is not so deep but I’m a simple girl, I’m always here for characters’ and background’s (lore?) development I will be pleased to hear what are your own wishes also

Notes:

¹ : certainly one of the thing i would the most like to see in the next movies, which is also something very important in the FB and HP universe - i have the feeling his power, skills, etc are more an idea than a reality. (and i indeed used a thesaurus to describe him)

² : Boggarts, Albus’ Boggart, how - in Albus’ situation - it mirrors his Erised reflect and how it might show important elements about him is a subject i really want to broach, i already planned it, it may be great to talk about it i think?

³ : talking about forbidden rituals, i talked here about the Blood Pact and why i think it was illegal, Dark, etc :

Why Albus didn’t tell Ministry employees about the Blood Pact

⁴ : to be fair, there are elements which are reminders of the pressure of the war in the book, especially in OotP and DH, but the Golden Trio did not experienced the war like the common people did, and the story - even very short - of someone who was scared is something i will be pleased to discover

⁵ : well, i talked a bit about pure-blood conservative families, their power and their influence in two posts:

How can everyone find their true-love and still be in love after years in HP? (”magic-soulmates” theory and conservative society)

Why are the Weasleys poor? (eng&fr) (theories about pure-blood families, inheritance, etc)

(it’s theories, but it can explain my point of view - headcanons? - about those families and the Wizarding Society)

⁶ : again, check the two posts if you are interested!

Thanks for reading!

I again apologize for the mistakes - and there might be incorrect informations, even if I hope there are not

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

The Softest Fire (Part 6)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: dealing with animals(??), anger(?)

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo.

For some odd reason, after the engagement fiasco, Tina stopped sending letters to Newt. Something that should’ve made me happy, but watching his demeanor dwindle into lethargy and sadness did anything but bring me joy. I tried desperately to keep him occupied, keep him happy, keep him doing anything but thinking about Tina. Other than agreeing to help dictate two more letters to her, I was pretty successful. To be honest, I was a little worried for this American. Where was she? Why wasn’t she writing back?

Also in this time, my cousin was trying to deal with her own heartbreak as well. I worked diligently to lick the wounds of both my friend and near-sister. I spent most of the day with Newt, focusing on our work, keeping him occupied; and by night, I was at Nora’s bookshop, helping her, preventing her from thinking too much about Theseus and the tramp.

It was hard work, while tending to my own heart, but they didn’t deserve to be alone. I had to be strong enough for both of them, even if both of them pretended to be strong without me. Everyone needs a helping hand now and then.

However, in June of 1927, things began to take a strange turn.

Grindelwald had escaped, putting fear and anxiety high in the wizarding world. For a while, I thought of returning to the Ministry. Between breaking my own heart every day for Newt and wanting to feel like I could help against Grindelwald, I seriously considered it. Yet, I waited. I wanted to be sure that’s what I wanted, and that Grindelwald wasn’t captured in the meantime.

Three months after his escape, Newt had been called in by Theseus to the Ministry. Newt asked that I accompany him. I agreed and we arrived. Newt went into the meeting alone and I stood out in the hallway to wait for him.

I heard someone approach as I stood in the hallway, so I lifted my head to see who it was, only to immediately scowl as she approached. Her eyes met mine and she stopped immediately, from fear or distaste, I couldn’t be sure.

“Ah, Leta, what have you come to destroy today?” I wondered in a superficial voice. “Newt’s in there. Would you like to commit another crime and blame him for it?”

Leta shook her head, clenching her jaw, looking off to the side. “Rosaline, I am not doing this. I’m just here to meet Theseus after his meeting. We have another meeting to go after this. But if me waiting for him is going to cause issues, I’ll leave.”

“You mean run away?” I asked, pushing off the wall. “How typical of you, Lestrange…”

“Merlin, what did I ever do to you?” she snapped, throwing her hands from her head to her side. Clearly, she was exasperated with me and my assault already.

“What haven’t you done? I have no tolerance for people who disobey rules.”

“Seriously?” she deadpanned. “That was ten years ago, get over it already. I was a kid, I didn’t ask Newt to take the fall for me.”

I sneered at her, putting my hands on my hips. “No, but you didn’t exactly take responsibility did you? You weren’t a child, Leta. It wasn’t like you didn’t know the repercussions of your actions.”

“So, what, that makes it okay for you to constantly condemn me, smear my name? You act as if what I did was commit high treason.”

I took a few strides towards her, getting directly in her face. “The magnitude of your crimes was never the issue. It was that for a full year, I had to watch an innocent boy have no freedom while I watched you traipse around the school, not a care in the world. I was with him for most of that year, did you even check on him? Did you even care? And now, you show up in Theseus’s life, and for what? What are you really after? Job security? You’re not capable of love, no Lestrange is, so what’s your real motive?”

“You don’t know the first thing about me, or Newt, or Theseus,” she countered.

“On the contrary, I know them very well, and I know they’re far better off without you in their life.”

“That’s not what Theseus thinks. He seems happy enough to make me part of the family. Can you say the same for yourself?” she shot back, her eyes burning on mine. I felt my hand twitch to my wand but I closed my eyes, stopping myself.

“Every action, every word out of your mouth, everything you do, only serves you, it always has and it always will. That’s why I don’t like you.”

“You must be this bitter because you’re alone. That’s it isn’t it? You can’t stand the fact that people care for me, that I’m still at the Ministry, moving on with my career. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

A smile came onto my lips quickly. “Oh, dear, no. It’s hard to envy rubbish. You’ll never truly mean anything to anyone.”

“Rubbish?!” Leta balked just as Theseus appeared beside the two of us.

“What’s rubbish, darling?” he asked. I wanted to vomit in my mouth, but I refrained.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” I dismissed, shooting a quick look to Leta. “Is Newt coming?”

“Right here,” he said from behind Theseus. The two brothers embraced before Newt nodded to me and we began to walk out of the Ministry.

He explained what the meeting was about on the way out. It was an offer to join as an auror and his traveling restrictions would be lifted, if he helped look for Credence. He denied, to no surprise of mine.

Once we were outside, he suggested I go back to his flat, since the creatures had been alone all morning. I nodded and he thanked me. We set off in different directions.

I was still at his flat when he returned and told me something peculiar while he was out. On his way home, he was met by Dumbledore who asked him to go to Paris, to a safehouse, and to look for Credence.

“Well, are you going?” I asked as we sat in his living room.

“I have no idea. I don’t even know what this means. Why is everyone suddenly asking me to find him?”

“You were trying to help a lost, hurt wizard. There is nothing wrong with that. People probably just think he’ll trust you.”

At that moment, a knock came at the door.

“Who could that be?” Newt wondered as he answered the door and in walked two people I’d never seen. A gorgeous blonde, and a plump, well kempt man.

Newt welcomed the guests in quickly before dashing out into the hallway.

“Tina’s not here, Newt. It’s just us,” the blonde stated before turning to me. “Oh, you’re Rosaline. I’ve read all about you in papers and stuff and in Newt’s book. You’re a real treat!”

I nodded at her. “And you must be… Queenie, Tina’s sister.” Instantly, the presence of a legilimens made me uncomfortable.

“Mhm, and this here is Jacob.”

“Ah, the muggle,” I acknowledged, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you both. Where is Tina?” I wondered. I was curious if she would show up at all, so I could prepare myself for it. Just as I asked, Newt had already dashed out in the hallway, sending a surge of fresh pain through me.

"Oh! She ain't here right now on account of her Auror business. She's a very busy woman."

Jacob concurred in a mumble. “Yeah, busy woman.” He then smiled a wide, goofy grin. Newt had described him as jovial, but this seemed peculiar.

For the next hour, we entertained Jacob and Queenie until we had Queenie remove the spell on Jacob, then they got into a fight and she disappeared to go to her sister in Paris. With that, it was all Newt needed for an excuse to go search for Tina as well as Queenie.

He asked that I come along for help, in case we ran into trouble. I climbed in the suitcase and Newt called that he was going to see if Nora wanted to join us.

We stopped by her place, and of course she joined us as well. We followed Newt as he tried to track down Tina. All four of us were on the street when suddenly Jacob and Newt had disappeared. Following them into what appeared to be sewers, a flash of light and I dove around the corner, startling the man we’d been following.

I stunned the mysterious man who had drawn his wand on me, pressing my foot into his chest, daring him to make a move. While I held him down, Nora released Newt, Jacob, and a woman I'd never seen from a gated off section of the chamber.

“Don’t hurt him,” she requested. “We need him.”

I narrowed my gaze at her. The idea of taking orders from someone I didn’t know did not set well with me.

“You mean you need him,” I snapped. “Who are you anyway?” I wondered.

Newt stepped up half a step and gestured between the woman and myself. “Rosaline, this is Tina.”

My world felt like it had exploded. Up until now, Tina was an unseen entity, something I could combat, something I could ignore, something I hoped to quash while she wasn’t in London… But now she really was a breathing, living, woman in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t ignore her. I couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist. I couldn’t pretend Newt hadn’t chosen her over me.

My jaw set before my eye twitched slightly. I tried to keep the indignant expression off my face. Thankfully, Nora touched my arm, bringing me back down from my rising aggression. It was a foreign feeling, jealousy. All my life, I had never been told no. I had anything my heart desired. When I was a hit witch, it was never personal, only a job. I never felt sympathy or anger for the wizards or witches I was after. The closest thing that came to this rage was I felt when we encountered people abusing the creatures Newt and I found.

But that was different. That was seeing injustice be done to an innocent creature.

What I was feeling in that moment, when Newt said Tina’s name… It was as if I’d been impaled. Rage, hurt, jealousy, want, and fury stormed through me.

I had little time to process these feelings however, because a roar erupted through the room and Nora noted that it might be time to leave.

We captured a zouwu (well, Newt did), and now, we were at the safe house to which Dumbledore had directed Newt, the mysterious man passed out as soon as we set him on the chaise.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

Forever Tag:

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@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

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#the softest fire #newt scamander fic #newt scamander #newt scamander x ofc #newt scamander x oc

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mammon-sama · 4 years

Text

Poison Apple Crêpes (Fanfiction) Part 2/2

This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but a few people were asking for a follow-up to this story from Lucifer's perspective, so I finally decided to buckle down and write one! I really hope it met your guys' expectations! 🤞 Read it on AO3 here!

Also, I included some of my headcanons in regards to Lucifer's feelings about angels and stuff, and I hope that doesn't bother anyone. In fact, it has a lot to do with another story I am working on for Obey Me!.

Title:

Poison Apple Crêpes (Part 2/2)

Summary:

An incensed Mammon recalls a fond memory he has of Lucifer from when they were younger.

(Essentially just a fluffy oneshot about Luci doing his best and Mammon just realizing it because he is a dumbass.)

Genre:

Fluff

Rating:

Word Count:

1824

First Part:

Read the first part here!

Lucifer’s mouth gaped open in a yawn, as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Blinking lazily, he cursed himself when he realized that the arm he had apparently rested his head on while he slept was covered in drool. He sighed in relief as he remembered that he was in his private study and none of his brothers were there to catch him in such a state of disarray.

More awake now, he glanced at a small clock situated on his desk, and his eyes widened in surprise when he realized what time it was. Had he really been asleep for so long? He knew that skipping sleep last night in order to finish the last round of R.A.D attendance reports for Diavolo would no doubt tire him, but he hadn’t expected it to cause a bout of weariness that lasted for this long of a time.

Lucifer’s stomach rumbled slightly, reminding him that in his desperation to finish the reports on time, he had forgone breakfast that morning, as well.

He shook his head, trying to relieve himself of the last dregs of sleep, and took a deep breath to reorient himself.

He realized that he never did end up completing his work. Lucifer reached toward the left-hand side of his desk, where he had originally placed a pencil holder filled with pens and highlighters, but found nothing. Surprised, he noticed that someone had shifted it over to the right side of his desk. He nodded in appreciation at the act—after all, he was right-handed, so it made sense for his pencil holder to be on the right side.

With that, Lucifer’s eyes widened as he realized that not only was his pencil holder’s location changed but many of the other objects’ on his desk, as well. They were artfully displayed, and although he appreciated the neatness of their arrangement, his eyes narrowed when he realized that all of this meant that someone had entered his private study.

His face reddened in fury; he had explicitly told his brothers that while in his private study, he was not to be bothered, hence why the room was locked through voice security and none of his siblings were allowed inside.

And his codeword—Eine klein Nachtmusik! How did any of his brothers even guess that phrase? ‘Eine klein Nachtmusik’ had been his most precious composition as Archangel of Music back in the Celestial Realm, but he never expected the other six demons to remember something as trivial and personal as that.

For a moment, Lucifer was touched that someone would make the connection between his beloved piece and the code phrase, but he couldn’t dwell on the fact when he noticed the sheet in front of him.

He grit his teeth; on the front of the sheet was a glaring pink slip—the telltale sign of test failure. He yanked off the pink paper and nodded once when he saw the name on the test.

Of course, it’s Mammon’s.

Lucifer leaned back in his chair and put his hand on his temple. Was it so much to ask for his money-grubbing second brother to take school seriously?

It was no small fact that Lucifer wanted his brothers to perform and be the best students at R.A.D—after all, they were an elite demon family and considered to be the Rulers of Hell. And of course, excelling in their schoolwork would surely get Lucifer and his family on the good side of Diavolo.

This was motivation enough for him to work hard and maintain his grades, but indeed, there was something else that propelled him to encourage his brothers to put their best foot forward …

All his life, Lucifer had been taught that demons were the scum of Creation—horrid things, with no respect or love for the Father; he himself had considered demons to be absolute worms beneath his feet.

When he was an angel, he was among the many who despised demons—that is, until he was forced to rely on them and therefore become one himself. And for all his bravado about being proud of going against his Father and living a demonic life, a small part of him still considered him and his brothers to still be holy angels (with the exception of Satan, who he sometimes believed could be an angel by proxy).

And as he had been ingrained to believe, angels were better. Angels were the best. Angels were sons of the Royal King, with blue blood flowing through their veins, superior to all other life.

A minute part of him wanted the demons in the Devildom to know that, to never forget that the Seven Rulers of Hell were always going to be above them.

Being the best at R.A.D was such one reminder.

And yet, his brothers refused to take themselves seriously in regards to school, and Mammon, with all his potential, was the worst culprit.

Lucifer realized Mammon must have snuck into his private study to leave this refuse on his desk. He violently grabbed a fountain pen from his now rightly-situated pencil holder and signed his name on the designated line on the pink slip with a flourish.

More irritated than he had ever been, Lucifer shoved the paper forward, leaving it upside down, so he wouldn’t have to see the abhorrent failure notification, again. As he did this, he noticed that he almost knocked over a white paper bag that was balanced on the edge of his desk.

He cocked his head curiously and pulled the bag closer. On it was a sticky note and in Mammon’s very loud handwriting, it read, WOW bro I just realized you drool a lot in your sleep XP hopefully that means you’re hungry!!. Lucifer couldn’t help but blush … and here he thought he was lucky to not have anyone notice his drooling.

Going against his better judgment, Lucifer peeled off the sticky note and opened the bag. As soon as he did, his anger melted away, for his nose was immediately graced with the warm, fruity scent of poison apples.

He froze; it had been years since the homey aroma had entered his nostrils, and instantly, he was brought back to a small café on the outskirts of the Devildom, where he and Mammon would used to enjoy a stack of crêpes when they were much younger.

Without thinking, his eyes zoomed toward a mini picture frame on his desk, where he and Mammon sat underneath an umbrellaed patio table at the café and beamed into the camera of a stranger, who had been so taken with the cheerful pair of brothers and insisted on photographing them.

“Lucifer,” pouted Mammon, his bottom lip sticking out profusely. “I don’t like these creeps.”

Lucifer shook his head and cut off another bite of poison apple. “They’re called crêpes, Mammon. And here, we can try another filling, if you’d like. Choose something else from the menu.”

“Hmph, okay.” He poked their waiter, who was walking by. “I want this!” He pointed to ‘Super Salty Tuna Fish Surprise crêpes.’

Lucifer bit his lip. He knew Mammon well enough to remember that the young demon did not enjoy salty foods.

Lucifer had hoped Mammon would enjoy this outing with him, and there was no way he would if he couldn’t find anything he liked. He took another bite of his poison apple crêpes, disheartened that despite it being his first time eating at this café, he had already found something he liked, while Mammon was left hungry.

“Wait one moment,” Lucifer told the waiter. He turned to Mammon. “Let me see that menu.” For a moment, he perused the list of foods, before landing on ‘Blackbelly Newt Legs Macerated in Vanilla Simple Syrup crêpes.’ He knew Mammon loved spicy foods—blackbelly newt legs were renowned for their heat—and the sweetness of the simple syrup would make sure that the flavor wasn’t too hot for his little demon palate. “Actually bring him this, please.”

“Boo, Luci, you suck,” Mammon grumbled, as the waiter walked away. “What if I don’t like those?”

Lucifer bobbed his head. “I’m sure you will.”

And he was right.

“Yum! This is tasty!” Mammon mumbled between mouthfuls of crêpe, and he grinned.

Lucifer beamed back. “I’m glad you like it!” He spooned the last bit of purple poison apple sauce off his plate. “We should come here, again.”

“Yay! We should!”

Lucifer sighed. That had been the first of many trips to that café. Over the course of many years, he and Mammon had tried every crêpe filling on the menu, but nothing ever came close to dethroning their favorite fillings of blackbelly newt legs and poison apples.

However, as time drew on, Mammon and he had become quite the busy demons, with various responsibilities to look after. Lucifer had always tried to make time to ensure that they still could frequently satiate their desire for crêpes, but Mammon constantly seemed to be occupied, being instantly taken with the glitz and glamor of the Devildom’s exclusive shopping districts.

He shook his head, momentarily wondering why he never thought of venturing to the café by himself, but then he realized that the trips wouldn’t be the same without his silly younger brother.

Lucifer carefully pulled out of the bag a fork and knife—it seemed as if Mammon had thoughtfully pilfered them from the House of Lamentation’s kitchen before bringing the crêpes to him—and a cylinder rolled in white paper.

He unwrapped said cylinder to reveal three crêpes, each oozing with several extra helpings of poison apples, just as he liked. The jewel-tone purple of the sauce glittered under the lights of his study, and he breathed in again the fruity scent of it. He nudged a chunk of apple with his fork and smiled when he realized that it was nice and tender, cursed to perfection.

Lucifer put a hand to his mouth—eating the filling would stain his lips mauve for days … but could that really be helped?

Overcome with nostalgia, he brought his knife down into the crêpe and forked a piece into his mouth. He smiled; it tasted just as sweet and sticky and delicious as it had the first time he had tried it.

Chewing thoughtfully, he noticed some scribbling on the back of Mammon’s test. It read, Mammon already signed up for tutoring ;(.

Perhaps it was the nostalgia talking, but seeing as Mammon was making an effort, Lucifer decided that maybe that was enough.

Putting his fork down, Lucifer pulled out his D.D.D and texted his secondborn brother.

Mammon Lucifer: Crêpes next weekend?

Immediately, he saw three bubbles pop up, indicating that Mammon was typing. A moment later, his response appeared on the screen.

Mammon: I guess the Great Mammon can spare a minute or two!

Mammon: Sounds like a plan! 👍👍

And from that moment on, all was forgiven.

THE END

#obey me #obey me shall we date mammom #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date mammon #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #brotherly love #adverbslut_writes

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