*same anon who asked for baby Newt & Theseus again* OH MY GOD!! That was ADORABLE!! I can't handle how cute that was & the little story/explanation you gave. "I've been wanting to draw these two again" PLEASE DO! I love Newt & Theseus in fanart/fics so much! And you linked mamin to it too! If they respond I might just die of happiness. You two are my fav fanartists & I get so excited when I see either of you posted something new. I'm still fangirling over the fact you responded to my ask. <3 <3
HELLO THERE! HEHE THANK YOU I’M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT Aaaahhh I love writing little tiny ficlets :’D I honestly just like to babble about the characters I love so I end up doing that HAHA I’m glad you find them entertaining!
Aaww, yeaa, she did respond! Mamin is such a sweetheart and I love talking to her about Theseus’ and Newt’s bond
ohmygod, I don’t even know what I did to receive that sort of praise but I am so so so flattered??? I don’t even know what to say??? It’s such an honor to be called someone’s favorite fanartist so thank you so much!
aaaa I actually did a continuation drawing that’s about the small filclet I wrote in the prev post! And I also did another ficlet thing heh
Newt wakes with a shudder, a sudden coldness cloaking over him and a sense of wrongness halting his breath with a shaky gasp. His hands twitch towards the blankets that have been pushed away, eyes still heavy with sleep. It ins’t until he hears the first soft whimper that his body jolts, instantly uncurling from his fetal position. Theseus. His mind registers with alarm that the warmth he had been missing was in fact, his brother’s embrace.
He sits up, face twisting in concern. The sight of his brother’s quaking, curled up form had his stomach knotting itself, and the unnaturally high-pitched whines of distress cut through the ringing silence of the night and right into his heart. Newt reached out a gentle hand to brush back sweat-soaked locks, the other moving to tenderly stroke down Theseus’ arm. His lips formed around his brother’s name, hushing and whispering gentle assurances.
He hated seeing his brother like this, usually so strong and composed, now small and fragile. Theseus was anything but. Newt carefully draped his arm and leg over the shaking form in a manner emulating Theseus’ usual sleeping position; ever the protector. Voice pitched low, he began to hum a soft melody, singing quietly to dispel whatever night-terror had dared disturb his precious family.
Newt may not be able to protect his brother from the real horrors of the world, but here, in their own space, he offers his love and comfort as respite- a soothing balm to ease the wounds inflicted by living. He embraces the role of his namesake, keeping vigilance over the night alongside the moon until sobs die away into occasional soft hiccup and the shudders finally still.
Newt doesn’t have the heat of his brother’s arms encasing him in their protection, but somehow -having Theseus in his arms, safe- he feels all the warmer for it.