The Dos and Don’ts of Beginning a Novel: An Illustrated Guide
I’ve had a lot of asks lately for how to begin a book (or how not to), so here’s a post on my general rules of thumb for story openers and first chapters!
Please note, these are incredibly broad generalizations; if you think an opener is right for you, and your beta readers like it, there’s a good chance it’s A-OK. When it comes to writing, one size does not fit all. (Also note that this is for serious writers who are interested in improving their craft and/or professional publication, so kindly refrain from the obligatory handful of comments saying “umm, screw this, write however you want!!”)
So without further ado, let’s jump into it!
1. Open with a dream.
“Just when Mary Sue was sure she’d disappear down the gullet of the monstrous, winged pig, she woke up bathed in sweat in her own bedroom.”
What? So that entire winged pig confrontation took place in a dream and amounts to nothing? I feel so cheated!
Okay, not too many people open their novels with monstrous swine, but you get the idea: false openings of any kind tend to make the reader feel as though you’ve wasted their time, and don’t usually jump into more meaty action of the story quickly enough. It makes your opening feel lethargic and can leave your audience yawning.
2. Open with a character waking up.
This feels familiar to most of us, but unless your character is waking up to a zombie attack or an alien invasion, it’s generally a pretty easy recipe to get your story to drag.
No one picks a book to hear how your character brushes their teeth in the morning or what they’d like to have for dinner. As a general rule of thumb, we read to explore things we wouldn’t otherwise get to experience. And cussing out the alarm clock is not one of them.
Granted, there are exceptions if your writing is exceptionally engaging, but in most cases it just sets a slow pace that will bore you and your reader to death and probably cause you to lose interest in your book within the first ten pages.
3. Bombard with exposition.
Literary characters aren’t DeviantArt OCs. And the best way to convey a character is not, in my experience, to devote the first ten pages to describing their physical appearance, personality, and backstory. Develop your characters, and make sure their fully fleshed out – my tips on how to do so here – but you don’t need to dump all that on the reader before they have any reason to care about them. Let the reader get to know the character gradually, learn about them, and fall in love with them as they would a person: a little bit at a time.
This is iffy when world building is involved, but even then it works best when the delivery feels organic and in tune with the book’s overall tone. Think the opening of the Hobbit or Good Omens.
4. Take yourself too seriously.
Your opener (and your novel in general) doesn’t need to be intellectually pretentious, nor is intellectual pretense the hallmark of good literature. Good literature is, generally speaking, engaging, well-written, and enjoyable. That’s it.
So don’t concern yourself with creating a poetic masterpiece of an opening line/first chapter. Just make one that’s – you guessed it – engaging, well-written, and enjoyable.
5. Be unintentionally hilarious.
Utilizing humor in your opening line is awesome, but check yourself to make sure your readers aren’t laughing for all the wrong reasons (this is another reason why betas are important.)
These examples of the worst opening lines in published literature will show you what I mean – and possibly serve as a pleasant confidence booster as well:
“As the dark and mysterious stranger approached, Angela bit her lip anxiously, hoping with every nerve, cell, and fiber of her being that this would be the one man who would understand – who would take her away from all this – and who would not just squeeze her boob and make a loud honking noise, as all the others had.”
– Ali Kawashima
“She sipped her latte gracefully, unaware of the milk foam droplets building on her mustache, which was not the peachy-fine baby fuzz that Nordic girls might have, but a really dense, dark, hirsute lip-lining row of fur common to southern Mediterranean ladies nearing menopause, and winked at the obviously charmed Spaniard at the next table.”
– Jeanne Villa
“As I gardened, gazing towards the autumnal sky, I longed to run my finger through the trail of mucus left by a single speckled slug – innocuously thrusting past my rhododendrons – and in feeling that warm slime, be swept back to planet Alderon, back into the tentacles of the alien who loved me.”
– Mary E. Patrick
“Before they met, his heart was a frozen block of ice, scarred by the skate blades of broken relationships, then she came along and like a beautiful Zamboni flooded his heart with warmth, scraped away the ugly slushy bits, and dumped them in the empty parking lot of his soul.”
– Howie McClennon
If these can get published, so can you.
1. You know that one really interesting scene you’re itching to write? Start with that.
Momentum is an important thing in storytelling. If you set a fast, infectious beat, you and your reader will be itching to dance along with it.
Similarly, slow, drowsy openers tend to lead to slow, drowsy stories that will put you both to sleep.
I see a lot of posts joking about “that awkward moment when you sit down to write but don’t know how to get to that one scene you actually wanted to write about.” Write that scene! If it’s at all possible, start off with it. If not, there are still ways you can build your story around the scenes you actually want to write.
Keep in mind: if you’re bored, your reader will almost certainly be bored as well. So write what you want to write. Write what makes you excited. Don’t hold off until later, when it “really gets good.” Odds are, the reader will not wait around that long, and you’re way more likely to become disillusioned with your story and quit. If a scene is dragging, cut it out. Burn bridges, find a way around. Live, dammit.
2. Engage the reader.
There are several ways to go about this. You can use wit and levity, you can present a question, and you can immerse the reader into the world you’ve created. Just remember to do so with subtlety, and don’t try too hard; believe me, it shows.
Here are some of my personal favorite examples of engaging opening lines:
“In the beginning, the universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."
– Douglas Adams, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
"It was the day my grandmother exploded.”
– Iain Banks, Crow Road.
“A white Pomeranian named Fluffy flew out of the a fifth-floor window in Panna, which was a grand-new building with the painter’s scaffolding still around it. Fluffy screamed.”
– Vikram Chandra, Sacred Games.
See what I’m saying? They pull you in and do not let go.
3. Introduce us to a main character (but do it right.)
“Shadow had done three years in prison. He was big enough and looked don’t-fuck-with-me enough that his biggest problem was killing time. So he kept himself in shape, and taught himself coin tricks, and thought a lot about how much he loved his wife.”
– Neil Gaiman, American Gods.
This is one of my favorite literary openings of all time, because right off the bat we know almost everything we need to know about Shadow’s character (i.e. that he’s rugged, pragmatic, and loving.)
Also note that it doesn’t tell us everything about Shadow: it presents questions that make us want to read more. How did Shadow get into prison? When will he get out? Will he reunite with his wife? There’s also more details about Shadow slowly sprinkled in throughout the book, about his past, personality, and physical appearance. This makes him feel more real and rounded as a character, and doesn’t pull the reader out of the story.
Obviously, I’m not saying you should rip off American Gods. You don’t even need to include a hooker eating a guy with her cooch if you don’t want to.
But this, and other successful openers, will give you just enough information about the main character to get the story started; rarely any good comes from infodumping, and allowing your reader to get to know your character gradually will make them feel more real.
The toughest part of being a writer is that it’s a rare and glorious occasion when you’re actually satisfied with something you write. And to add another layer of complication, what you like best probably won’t be what your readers will like best.
If you refuse to keep moving until you have the perfect first chapter, you will never write anything beyond your first chapter.
Set a plan, and stick to it: having a daily/weekly word or page goal can be extremely helpful, especially when you’re starting out. Plotting is a lifesaver (some of my favorite posts on how to do so here, here, and here.)
Keep writing, keep moving, and rewrite later. If you stay in one place for too long, you’ll never keep going.
Newt Scamander was an absolute work of art, and simply studying his features helped you relax, so you did. He sat at the polished oak table, his right leg shaking as he focused, his honey colored locks sprawled across his forehead. When he focused, these little crinkles appeared from the furrow of his eyebrows, and he would chew his lower lip whilst deep in thought. A golden beam of sunlight twinkled across his button nose, rosy cheeks, and brilliant blue-green eyes. He reached for his steaming mug of tea, letting the curls of steam crawl over his face before taking a careful sip. Then his lips twitched ever so noticeably, and you could make out the little dimples of his curious smile.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his head still bent into his leather notebook, his white feather quill tight in his hand.
You sat across the table from him, head in palm as you examined him, “because you’re very nice to stare at, Newt.”
This split his lips into a wide grin, and he gently set his quill down before giving his full attention to you. “I can’t focus when you’re devouring me with those eyes.”
You shrugged, giving a small grin, “you’re always staring at me, too.”
“Well, you see, with you - okay, but - you’re very, well-” New continuously tripped over his words as he fumbled to piece together his thoughts.
“Go on,” you encouraged, stretching your hand across the table.
Newt brought his eyes down, his hand coming up gently to rest in yours, his fingers intertwining with the most cautious ease. He strung his fingers between yours, his eyes looking over your hands for a good while.
“Newt, you’re doing it again,” you giggled, when he’d gotten distracted and removed his hand to draw patterns all over your palms.
“What? Oh, oh, yes, right,” he sighed, putting his hand back in yours. He looked back up, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Erm, well, you are the most fascinatingly charming girl I h-have ever had the pleasure of coming upon,” he began, his cheeks reddening at once. “So y-you see, when I study my creatures, I am always discovering more of their hidden wonders, as I am with you. Sometimes the sunlight will cross different crevices of your face, sometimes your eyes are darker than usual, sometimes a strand of hair falls loose, a-and sometimes you’re smile is so wonderfully mesmerizing that I must always…watch. I can’t miss a moment, you see, I have to study you until I know all you’re little quirks like the back of my hand.” Newts eyes had drifted onto a patch of table around halfway through, unable to hold your gaze.
You squeezed his hand really lightly to get his focus, “Newt.”
He released your hand and brought his own back down into his lap, shifting in his chair and looking very flustered when he looked back up at you.
“Newt, you’re too good to me,” you whispered, feeling ridiculous for wanting to cry.
“I’m just so lucky to have you, please know this,” he mumbled hurriedly.
You shook your head with a faint laugh, “what makes you think I have no reason to admire you?”
His jaw clenched a little, and you saw his face droop, “my love, there is nothing special to see.”
That physically pained you to hear.
“Newt!” you gasped, “Please, never say that again.”
He grew instantly worried, “Oh-I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I-”
“Shh,” you cut him off and stood up, heading around the table and taking a seat right beside him, turning your chair toward Newt. He half-heartedly turned to face you as well.
“Newt,” you smiled sadly, raising your palm up to graze his cheek. He twitched nervously under your touch, but you reassured him and rested your hand against his freckle dotted skin.
“Newt, you are the kindest and most amazing person ever, and I hate to see you doubting yourself like this. You are so special Newt, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do; as a sweet, loving, and most definitely heart stoppingly beautiful human being. Yes there are kind folks out there, yes there are gorgeous folks out there, but never have I found someone who is both as gorgeous and compassionate to the extent that you are, which is why I am so deeply in lo-”
You stopped short, realizing you had spoken too much and instantly freezing over. You had never exchanged the three magic words with Newt before, and suddenly it seemed nothing but terrifying.
Newts mouth opened, his skin warming beneath your fingertips, “What?”
“N-nothing,” you mumbled, dropping your hand nervously.
Newt grabbed your hand gently before it could fall, and took it in his own, bringing it right up to his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat rapidly quickening beneath the fabric of his soft clothes.
“Do you feel that?” he gulped.
You nodded shyly, “Yeah?”
“That, (Y/N), is what one who is madly in love feels,” he smiled nervously. “This here, i-is physical proof of how I feel when I’m with you, and how it feels to be head over heels for y-you, my darling.”
You felt your own heartbeat falter before quickening, and Newt asked, “Do you love me too?”
He had said it so quietly that you almost missed it. His lips quivered, his slender fingers trembling as his face sunk into a state of absolute sadness and worry. You couldn’t even speak at the sight, so instead you brought his hand up to your own chest, and lay it against your heart. Newt stretched his fingers slowly across your front, his palm taking in the rapid and intense thrum of your heartbeat.
“You tell me,” you breathed quietly.
He brought his eyes from your heart to your painfully nervous gaze. Once again, his lips twitched and broke into that familiar smile. The sun sent flares across his warm features and illuminated his overjoyed expression.
“I would very much like to kiss you right now, if you would allow me,” he proposed shyly.
You couldn’t help but laugh, your smile stretching wide as you gave him a nod.
Newt pulled a stray hair of yours affectionately behind your ear before tracing down to your jawline and resting his hand beneath your chin. He gave you one last look before tilting his head in with a flutter of his eyelids. Your eyes closed at the moment where your lips made contact. It was only for the briefest of moments, but was plenty enough for you to feel intoxicated by the taste you were given. He was soft and gentle with you, as if you were a fragile piece, and his lips were full, warm, and tasted of delightful sugar sweet joy. You could feel his hand quivering beneath your chin, but you pushed your lips in a little deeper to show you were at ease with him. You felt a rolling crystal droplet trickle down from his eyes and down onto your lips, but the taste of salt in the kiss was one that you knew was from tears of joy. Newt’s timid lips twitched upwards against yours, and he pulled back a second later, forgetting to breathe for a moment. He gulped down the lump in his throat and took a deep breath in whilst opening his bluish green eyes again.
“T-that was-” he stuttered.
“Wonderful,” you smiled and bent forward, dropping a light peck against Newt’s nose. You brought your own head down to Newt’s chest, and burrowed into the crevice of his neck, where you breathed in the scent of flowers and, possibly, niffler. He brought his hand up to hold your head, his free arm coming around your waist and giving you a squeeze. You smiled against his skin and let your eyes come to a close.
Newt sat quietly, formulating sentences but only coming up with one, “I’m just… so lucky to have you,” he whispered again.
“So, I’m going to write this mystery novel. It’s about this detective, and there’s a murder. He starts interviewing suspects, but the whole thing is really about the detective’s growth as a person and how he might really not want to be a cop at all. In the end, he leaves his job with homicide to reconsider his life choices.”
“And what happens with the murder?”
“Oh, that’s just a tool for his character growth, it never gets solved.”
“Then it’s not a mystery.”
“What do you mean, there’s a detective and a murder and suspects! That’s a mystery!”
“Yes, but mystery readers do want to see their mysteries solved.”
“God, mystery readers have such limited minds, they should branch out a bit.”
“Can’t they appreciate a story where the mystery isn’t neatly wrapped up?”
“But it doesn’t sound like you’re really focusing on the mystery part of it at all.”
“Not really, no, it’s a character study. But the mystery exists! So my story is a mystery!”
“No, I don’t …”
“You’re just limiting my artistic vision. Mystery readers are so naive, if they want neatly wrapped up solutions every time.”
…. now, imagine having this conversation seven million times, only about romances and Happily Ever After endings. In conclusion, genres have conventions because they signify a plot (or world-building, in the case of SFF) structure and/or rules that readers can rely on, and people need to stop thinking that those structures/rules are inherently bad or lazy. The end.
I walked into the tavern and plopped onto a stool glancing at the bartender. I placed a few coins in his hand and asked for one Y/F/D.
The excitement was evident in the air as I took a sip of my freshly brewed drink.
A groan escaped my throat as a clearly drunken man made his way to the counter. Could this day get any worse?
“Another round for me and this pretty little lady”
“That is very kind of you sir, but I already have something of my taste”
His smirk grew as he leaned closer. Alcohol evident in his warm breath. His brown eyes fogged.
“Nonsense! There’s never to much to drink”
I held back an eye roll as he shifted. Letting out a laugh he grabbed my hand, pulling it up to his mouth.
“There is such thing as too much to drink, and you have obviously reached that point!”
I exclaimed freeing my hand from his cold, dry hands. His eyes got darker as I stood up.
“Thank you for your hospitality…….”
As I inched towards the door his hand wrapped around my wrist. His grip was too strong and my endless tugging did no good.
“you don’t speak back to a man missy, you should know that from your father!”
I stopped struggling as he mentioned my abusive father. Everyday from the moment I turned twelve till now he had beaten me in some way, shape, or form.
I grimaced at the memories that flashed through my head.
Coming here has been in result of his most recent beating. My mother, who did nothing to help me, told me I needed some fresh air.
“My father is a disgrace to every man that has ever had a child. Do not, Do not bring him into my doings. It is my life and you will not change that. And with that I bid you a do”
Little did I know as I was speaking, the eyes of the tavern, and the handsome man who was in the middle of it all, had landed on me.
Pulling my wrist free finally I was making my way towards the door thanking the bartender for his service.
Gasps were heard as I turned around to reveal the man raising his calloused hand.
A chorus of gasps and squeals ran through the air. The most prominent voice was that of a man. I tried to dodge but I was too late, the original contact wasn’t bad. Just a sting, but as he raised his hand to beat me again I felt more than just pain.
Tears stream down my face. My eyes close and I wait for the pain to come but it isn’t there.
Slowly I open my eyes and look above me. There standing right in front of me is the infamous Gaston reaching his hand down to me.
The man is sprawled across the floor his breathing labored. Did Gaston just save me?
I grab his hand and in a flash I’m on my feet, into the arms of the awaiting Gaston.
We stare into each other’s eyes for what seems like forever no words to describe what had just happened. I let out a small giggle as a smile appears on his gorgeous features.
“Well fancy meeting you here Captain”
“The pleasure is all mine”
“Thank you for, um, saving me”
“Anything to get that man away from you, he doesn’t deserve to even look at you”
As if on cue my cheeks heat up in a rosy blush.
“Would you mind if I walk you home Y/N?”
“I would love that”
As we exit I shiver at the blistering cold of the night……. Hard to believe it was the beginning of June.
“Are you cold?”
Concern laced in his voice I answered quickly despite the breeze rushing against my already cold figure.
“Please don’t worry about me, you’ve saved me once and for that.. I can’t ask you to do anything more”
Before I could reply, in a swift motion the golden jacket was placed on my shoulders.
The rest of our walk was filled with jokes and laughter. Gaston was a character.
Maybe a Bit Narcissistic
but in a playful way.
And he was hilarious
For most women he was the perfect man, the same could be said for me.
I felt my shoulders drop as we arrived home.
“My dearest Y/N it has been a wonderful night now hasn’t it”
“Why yes Monsieur Gaston, we may just have to do this again sometime”
“I would love that, perhaps over dinner”
“That would be perfect”
He leans in towards me and I grasp the opportunity. Our lips meet with a spark. He smiles into the kiss which gives me the courage to move my hands to his neck.
We both pull away gasping for breath.
“ I look forward to tomorrow Gaston”
I say as I slowly make my way to the oak door of my small cottage.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world”
This new start would change abuse to love and it sure was sweet.
Who knew that five years from that moment you would be leaning in to kiss your new husband.
Who knew one year after that you would be holding a small baby girl, as tears stream down both of your faces.
Who knew Lefou would be the God-Father to your children.
Who knew that he would change everything. You would change him too.
I finally finished it. I was so surprised at how many people actually like the teaser so that motivated me to finish it. I don’t know why but I have a lot of fun writing for Gaston. So again this story is of what would happen if the reader fell of the castle instead of Gaston.
This also has a sort of Dracula Untold ending.
WARNINGS: Death, Angst, Feels, blood, spoilers-ish?, and fluff.
Tags: @withouthannah because they so kindly asked to be tagged.
So now that all that’s out of the way please enjoy!
You had seen
Negan beat two of your friends to death, and even then he never showed a hint
of true anger. He had laughed, taunted, and threatened, but he was a man in
control. But this Negan, whose face was contorted with rage as he roared as
loud as thunder? This man was furious and you felt fear like you had never felt
onto the ground with a knife pressed to her throat, eyed him defiantly.
You wanted to
tell her to look away, to show remorse. Even if she didn’t mean it, at least
Negan might show her a small bit of mercy. She remained insolent, uncaring of
But if there was
one thing you had learned about Negan it was that someone was going to pay for
her attempt on his life, and it wouldn’t be Rosita.
Rick made Negan
angry and Abraham died. Daryl lashed out at Negan and Glenn paid the price.
Spencer was lying in a heap at Negan’s feet, and you knew someone else would
likely join him.
“This little bad
boy made from scratch?” Negan’s bemused voice left you trembling. He was more
in control now, more focused, and it was terrifying. “Look at those crimps.
This was homemade.”
Your heart began
to beat frantically in your chest. Rosita’s rebellious glare never faltered.
“You may be
stupid, darlin’, but you showed some real ingenuity here,” it almost sounded
like a compliment. Maybe it was, but compliment or not it wasn’t going to save
her from Negan’s wrath.
“Arat, move that
knife up out on that girl’s face. Lucille’s beautiful, smooth surface is never
gonna look the same, so why should yours?” Rosita didn’t flinch. The rest of
the Alexandrians gathered sucked in a breath.
Negan said, considering, “Unless you tell me who made this.”
plummeted to the pit of your stomach.
You knew when
Rosita came to you, begging for your help crafting that single bullet, that it
had been a terrible idea. You let guilt drive you to accept her demands. She
made it clear, she wouldn’t survive long after shooting Negan but she didn’t
care. She wanted him dead and that was all that mattered. You couldn’t blame
her, everyone wanted to see Negan pay.
But now Negan
wasn’t dead and you were all fucked.
Guzma is a sucker for kisses, never before had he felt such affection. So if you ever just sneak a kiss on his cheek on kiss his hand he will melt. He will get so flustered and stutters whenever you surprise him like that.
It’s almost impossible for Guzma to wake up before noon. You’re more of a morning person so trying to get him to wake up any earlier is a challenge for you. You’ve tried using an operant conditioning technique but it still failed. He started to clue in on your attempts and after you gave up he surprised you by waking you up with a cup of coffee.
You first met waiting in line at the Hau’oli cafe, the both of you ordered a Tapu Cocoa. The barista on cash never asked for either of your names so when they called out the first order you both reached for the drink at the same time accidentally knocking it over in the process… Guess you could say your first meeting was a hot mess.
Guzma excels at math, it took you by surprise when he blurted out the answer to an equation you were working on. You use him as your own personal Pokemon battling tactician now when regarding type advantages and damage dealt.
Here you can find my writing that I’ve done for either Teen Wolf or
The Originals, as well as Captain Hook/Kilian Jones from Once Upon A
Time. Ones that have been requested by people and the ones that I have
written as well. Enjoy reading through them :). And anybody’s welcome to
request, just send me an ask. x
Request: Can I request a newt x reader where he holds your baby daughter for the first time, and he falls in love with you and her all over again please? Lots of smiles and fluffiness please?
OH BOY IS THERE A LOT OF FLUFF xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
You hated that Newt had to see you like this, weak. A thick layer of sweat plastered your hair to your clammy skin as you cried out in absolute anguish, tears rolling down your cheeks, every part of your body screaming with hot fire. You just wanted it to be over, you just wanted it to end. Newt had been more supportive than you could ever thank him for, but until now, a part of him struggled to comprehend that this was his child you were giving birth to, and not just another of his creatures. Watching you now, the lovely smile he once wore was replaced by crippling sadness, crystal tears pouring from his vibrant blue eyes and down his freckle kissed skin. You knew why; Newt was incurably empathetic, which meant that seeing you in any pain would simply overwhelm and distress him to this point. The doctors encouraged you with each push, but their words were easily drowned out by your sobs of despair.
His voice was the most quiet in the room, but the only one you heard.
“N-Newt,” you gasped through your tears, your head rising as he spoke.
“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, alright? Listen to the sound of my voice, I’m right here,” he encouraged softly, entwining his slender fingers through yours.
You gave another push, shaking your head back and forth, “I-I can’t do this.”
Newt squeezed your hand, “Yes darling, you can. Look at me.”
You rolled your head pathetically to the side, catching Newt through your bleary vision. His elbows rested against the table, his ember colored fringe drooped over his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed together in worry.
“You only have a few pushes left,” he promised, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “So when the next one comes, squeeze my hand and know that I’m here, know that I love you, and you can do this. Can you do that for me?”
It was a rare occasion, hearing Newt utter multiple sentences without a single stutter. You gave him a nod, and as you gave your last few pushes, you focused on the sound of his soothing words, your nails digging into his flesh but not causing him to flinch at all. It hurt like hell, but there was not a chance in the world that you could’ve done it without him. Once it was over, you collapsed back into your pillows form exhaustion, your breathing heavy and unstable. The doctors quickly took your baby to get cleaned up, and Newt edged closer to you, using his knuckles to push your stray hairs affectionately behind your ears.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I wanted you to think I was brave, but I’m not.”
Newt bent over you, his lips coming to rest briefly like a whisper on your forehead. He pulled back, caressing your cheek lightly, “I’ve never seen you braver,” he whispered, his cool breath fanning over your skin.
You laughed softly, bringing your hand to cup his, “Thank you.”
Newt opened his mouth, but was cut off by a doctor.
“Here she is,” the doctor smiled warmly, passing your baby girl into your arms.
She was wrapped snugly in a plush pink blanket, her chubby cheeks rosy as she stirred, and you were surprised to see that, unlike most newborns, she wasn’t crying at all now, but instead looking genuinely content to be in this new world. Her warmth spread into your arms, and you stared at her in awe, starting to cry again after just having stopped. She had her father’s eyes, big blue green orbs filled with wonder and charm.
“We made that!” you squealed softly, brushing off a tear and looking at Newt.
Newt pulled his eyes up to yours, a short airy laugh emitting from his chest, “we made that,” he repeated in disbelief. “She’s an absolute b-beauty,” Newt breathed lovingly, “must’ve gotten that from you.”
“Really? I’d say that’s all you,” you glowered.
You raised your fingertips to touch your daughter’s squishy little fingers. “This is a bit different than raising your creatures,” you giggled breathlessly.
“Well, considering you are the only one I have ever trusted to care for them, and considering how much kindness and love you gave to them, I’ll bet you’re going to make the best mother anyone could ever ask for,” Newt grinned.
Even after years with Newt, things like this still caused you to find yourself furiously blushing beet red.
You pecked your daughter on the head and smiled down at her joyus little face, and as carefully as you could, you passed the little bundle into Newt’s arms.
He grasped her tightly against his chest, staring down at her for a good while, his mouth hung open as he searched for the words to say. After a long silence, he raised his head, closing his eyes as he struggled to gain composure, a fresh wave of tears now rolling down his cheeks.
“It’s like-” his voice cracked and he shook his head again, his lips twitching upwards as he cried softly and left his sentence unfinished.
“It’s like what?” you smiled, using the pads of your thumbs to brush the tears from Newt’s soft skin.
Newt brought all his attention to you, his shimmering eyes softening as he gazed dumbfounded at you. “I-It’s like,” he breathed quietly, “It’s like I’m falling in love all over again.”
Your heart practically melted right then and there. “She is pretty easy to fall in love with,” you smiled warmly, looking back down at your child. But Newt continued on staring at you, his fingers crawling under your chin and lifting your face back up to his.
“Not just her,” he sighed, tilting his head. “I’m afraid, my love,” he said, searching your face, “that I am falling for you all over again.”
You shook your head in amazement, “what did I ever do to deserve you, Newt Scamander?”
“Exist,” he said simply, without a moment’s hesitation.
You were going to say something, but a sudden wave of sleepiness crashed over you, and you found yourself unable to suppress your yawns.
“Merlin’s beard,” Newt said, “that was supposed to be romantic, not put you to sleep.”
“Mmm,” you said faintly, “sorry sweetie, I’m just so exhausted.
“Yes of course,” Newt straightened up, “you need lots of rest. But…not to worry, I’m not going anywhere darling, I’ll be right here when you wake up!”
“Don’t worry,” you mumbled, “you have to go and take care of your beasts.”
“They’ll be alright without me for a while. After all, I have a new beast to take care of now,” he giggled to himself, tapping your daughter lightly on the nose.
“Newt! Don’t call her that!” you snorted with laughter.
“A-and once you awake, I will be sure to give you a proper good kiss,” he smiled bashfully.
Your eyelids drooped, but you smiled, “how about you kiss me right now?”
Newt blinked a few times, the corners of his mouth twitching up into that smirk of his you loved, his cheeks flushing, and adorable dimples appearing. You bent cautiously forward, your fingers coming to lightly brush Newt’s velvety golden red hair from his eyes. You sighed contently, tapping your fingers lightly against Newt’s temples as you gazed deep into the pools of his familiar blue eyes.
“I want you to know that, with you…well, I fall in love with you all over again every time I see you. I am so in love with you, Newt Scamander,” you murmured.
Newt’s skin turned hot under your palms.
“A-and I you,” he stuttered softly.
You strung your arms loosely around his neck, Newt’s hands coming to gently cup your cheek. You tilted your head, eyes fluttering closed, your lips finding Newt’s familiar ones with no trouble. It was easy, with Newt. Your lips molded easily together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you kissed, you found your heart springing to a thrum at the sensation of his soft and plump lips against yours. You pushed a little further, your nose pressing into Newt’s skin, your hands coming up to trail through his locks. Newt hummed lightly in content, the vibrations sent through your locked lips. His thumb caressed your cheek gently, every move of his cautious and careful with you, his intensity always soon to mimic yours with ease. Newt smiled radiantly against your mouth, and you could practically taste the happiness on his lips. You briefly bent your head in deeper, Newt quickly dipping his lips forcefully against yours before pulling back, his grin still plastered to his face.
“I needed that,” you sighed, collapsing back against your pillows.
“Rest well, beautiful,” Newt soothed in reply.
He shifted slightly to raise the blanket around your body, tucking you snugly in, the sleep already coaxing you into darkness. As he lifted his hands away, you used your last bit of energy to grab Newt’s wrist midair and hold his hand. You held it like that against the sheets, and a moment later, you were gone.
Newt leaned back, the smile on his face never faltering for even a second. And so he sat like that, admiring his two favorite girls in the world and wondering how he ever got so lucky.
“Newt can you pass me a glass of water please?” You asked as you stretched your left arm out and kept looking at the little bowtruckle whose head was hanging low and once green ‘skin’ turned into a more yellow-ish color. A few moments later you felt the glass in your hand and dropped some water into the little bowtruckles mouth who slowly started to turn green again and a smile appeared on it’s face. "There you go. Next time ask sooner okay little guy? We don’t want you to wilt, don´t we?“
You stood up from the floor and turned around to find your long time boyfriend Newt leaning against the doorframe with his typical cute grin. ”Sometimes I have the feeling you love my creatures more than me,my dear.“ He started to walk closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist,pulling you closer.
”Oh I think that is in no way possible,Mr.Scamander.“ Newt chuckled and wanted to place a kiss to your lips but was interrupted by Pickett who climbed from the pocket of his jacket onto his shoulder and held a golden ring in his tiny hands. ”Pickett! I told you to wait till Dinner!“ Newt said and wanted to put the bowtruckle away but he managed to escape Newt’s grip and jumped right on your arm practically shoving the ring into your face. "Newt?” You asked confused taking the ring as Newt grabbed your hand and looked at his feet.
Hello! An Anonymous requested this based on certain prompts: 2-“Come dance with me.” 22-“ What’s in it for me?” and 55: “ Let’s ditch this place and do something fun.” So I do hope I didn’t not disappoint. I love Dan Stevens he’s amazing because not everyone is a Disney Prince and an Xmen. So with out further a due please enjoy.
Tonight was a very special night. The night that you get to see your oldest friend Adam, or Prince Adam as you were told to call him. But you two were very close that you ignored formalities. He was hosting one of his very expensive parties again and your family was invited. You weren’t royalty like your friend, but your family was one of the more richer families in France. You had dressed in your best gown, it was very extravagant and it was (f/c). You even wore the necklace Adam gave you as a child.
Ever since his mother died you hadn’t seen your friend as much. His father thought you were to rambunctious for his son. You weren’t too bad you were just being kids back then. The two of you would run around the castle playing pretend. The staff loved you despite what their master said. You were always so kind and respectful to them. They would say that you and Adam were like a lock and a key. You complimented each other perfectly. But then his father passed and Adam shut you out, completely. He changed from the list of his mother more but he seemed like a different person. You haven’t seen him in seven years. So you don’t know if your even going to see your friend or a stranger. But you were excited none the less. You had decided that you were going to arrive a bit earlier than what you were supposed to. So as your carriage pulled up to the castle your stomach was filled with butter flies. Your driver went up first to the castle to announce your arrival. As you stepped out, it was like stepping into an old memory. The castle had looked exactly the same, like no time had passed at all. You stepped up to the door and was greeted by a familiar face “ Hello Mrs. Potts.” You said stepping inside. She came up and embraced you in a hug saying “ Oh bless my stars! Miss (Y/N) is that really you?” You hugged back “ It’s me alright.” She backed up “ Let me look at you dearie. Oh you’ve grown up so well, and very beautiful too.” You blushed an thanked her. You heard a faint call in the background and saw a little boy who couldn’t have been more than five years old. “ And who’s this?” You said crouching down to the floor to be at the same level as the boy. “ This is my son Chip. ” she replied. “ Why hello Chip I’m (Y/N).” You said to the young lad. “ Nice to meet you miss.” He said with his hand out. You shook it and complimented him on his manners. They were much better than yours when you were his age. “ Are you the lady who’s in all those pictures the master has?” You raised an eyebrow as Mrs. Potts shook her head. “ I’m not sure I’ve never seen those pictures.” You told him. You stood up as Cogsworth and Lumier entered. “ Ah Miss (Y/N) I thought I heard your voice! See Cogsworth I told you she’d show up. ” Lumier sneered patting his friend on back. “ It is good to see you again Miss (Y/N) .” Cogsworth said. You hugged them both. You were escorted into the sitting room as you were catching up with your old friends. For such a big Castle news traveled fast. Many of the staff members came in and greeted you with joy. Even Mr.Potts came in and he was a very forgetful man. “ What is all that noise?! I thought I told you not to disturb me until…” As you turned around you saw Adam stopped in his tracks. He was enthralled when he saw you. Last time he saw you both of you were young teenagers. You had grown to be quite beautiful. “ Hello Adam. It’s so good to see you.” You said walking up to him. “ (Y/N) y-your… Your early. ” he said flustered. Not the welcome you were expecting. “ What’s a few minutes between friends?” You replied. “ Well I will see you later on tonight. Go to one of the guest rooms and I will send Plumette up to assist you in… Cleaning yourself up. I’m having very important people over and I requested that you look your best. But we’ll fix you up.” You were taken back by his statement. Why would he say something like that? “ You’re quite the charmer aren’t you?” You said crossing your arms. “ Well I need you to look more professional. You look too much like… You.” He said as if he was justified. “ And since when did you think that was a problem?” You exclaimed. “ I will talk to you later!” He yelled and walked back up to his room. Still taken back by the way he talked to you, you just stood there. Looks like Adam was more of a stranger than you thought he’d be. You headed up to his room despite everyone telling you not to. You knocked on the door and he told you to enter. “ You want to tell me what that was about back there?” You said walking up to where he was getting ready. “ What do mean?” You rolled your eyes. “ You making it sound like I’m not good enough to even step foot on the premises.” He then replied with something you did not expect, especially from someone who was your friend. “ You’re upset because I wanted you to look presentable for my other guest? I’m sorry I know it’s hard for people of your class to understand, but when you are invited somewhere you dress your best. You weren’t royalty but he had no right to say that. Full of anger you questioned ” People of my class?! Adam those are your fathers words not yours!“ He then yelled ” Do NOT compare me to my father! Now do as I said and I will talk to you LATER!“ With that you left too angry to say anything else. Later Plumette had assisted in fixing up your makeup and Madam Garedrobe made adjustments to your dress. But she made sure that they were undo able so that she could turn it back in to the dress you loved. She even questioned her self why the master said to change it. She left so that she could warm up with Maestro and left you and Plumette alone for some finishing touches. ” Plumette, how long has Adam acted like that?“ She sighed ” Ever since the king and queen died. “ you felt great sorrow for your friend he had changed so much. Later that night during the party you did your best to fit in but all of those other rich families were starting to annoy you so for most of it you just sat near Garedrobe and Maestro listening to their beautiful music and just people watching. As you watched all of the people you noticed something out of place. Adam was also sitting alone just watching everyone as well. Looks like his night wasn’t going as planned. When Garedrobe took a break to get something to drink you asked her to sing an old song that Adam and you used to dance to as kids. She agreed and told Maestro about it. When the music started back up again Adam recognized it right away. You walked up to him and held out your hand saying ” Come dance with me.“ He huffed not really wanting to do anything, this night wasn’t going how he thought it would. When he looked at you to give an answer he saw that little girl he used to play with, who was his best friend. ” What’s in it for me?“ He asked. You gave him a look that said ‘really’ . You thought for a moment what could get him to do this little action. ” You can tell me what to do for the rest of the night and I will not complain, deal?“ You said ashamed of the idea but it was the only one you had. He then grinned and agreed and he escorted you to the dance floor. He surprised you with his quite exceptional dancing skills. Both of you were having fun, just as you did when you you were kids. Though your dance skills were a little better than those little kids you once were. And he was actually able to pick you up and spin you around. You had gotten a small part of your old friend to come out from that jerk you found. When the song ended almost nothing in the room had changed just a few looks from girls either in disgust or jealousy. You thanked Adam and as you were about to leave he whispered ” Let’s ditch this place and do something fun!“ You looked back at him confused ” You said if I danced with you you would do what ever I told you and you wouldn’t complain remember?“ He said with a sly smile. You sighed and agreed. You both escaped the very boring party and sneaked out one of the many secret doors. The passage led into the garden, but there was a small ledge that you were hesitant about. A loud gasp came from you as you landed on the ground. Thank goodness you weren’t hurt and neither were you clothes. ” You were taking too long.“ Adam whined as he himself jumped down. ” You’re such a jerk Adam.“ You said shaking your head. ” I am not!“ He continued to whine. ” What happened to that kid I knew? What happened to my friend? You’re so different now.“ You said with a hint of sadness. Your Adam used to be kind, not so judgmental. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. ” In what way am I ‘different’ as you put it?“ You sighed carefully selecting your words. ” Your thinking is different. You used to think that it was okay that I liked things simple and that I was in a lower position than you. You just seem more arrogant, angry, and a little whiney.“ He crossed his arms ” I am none of those things. “ You looked at him as he realized what he said as soon as it came out of his mouth. ” I’m… I’m sorry (Y/N) if I offended you. I guess some of my father did rub off on me. If it means anything I thought you looked beautiful when you first came in. “ he said with a half smile hoping you would forgive him. ” I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I guess seeing you with a mixture of my fathers views and my love for you wasn’t a good mix.“ You snapped your head unsure that you heard him right. A: he apologized twice, and B: well did he really just say that? ” What did you just say?“ He blushed and tried to shrug it of as nothing. ” Oh no Adam. Did you just say you love me?“ You asked slightly smiling. ” No I didn’t. Stop it .“ He retorted. ” Oh my god you did. You said that you love me.“ You said poking him. As you kept poking him he grabbed your wrist angrily and did something you didn’t expect. He crashed his lips into yours. After the shock you kissed back. It became a hungry kiss very quickly. When you broke for air Adam said ” I didn’t know any other way to get you to stop talking. You were being annoying.“ You smiled as you leaned your foreheads together. ” Remind me to be annoying more often.“ There was a long silence before Adam started talking again. ” (Y/N) I was wondering if you could or wanted to spend the night here? With me?“ He asked looking down as he did. You lifted his head to look at those beautiful blue eyes of his ” Of course, I’d love to. Plus we made a deal so if you tell me too I kinda have to. Now you said we were going to do something fun.“ He laughed and led you to the stables. ” We are going to race just like we did when we were kids.“ He said opening the horses pens. ” And the winner gets to eat what ever leftover dessert they want, while the loser has no say in what they eat.“ He explained. You playfully gasped ” You’re a monster.“ You them blushed as he let out a growl and sneered. You mounted your horse saying ” You’re on your Majesty.“
Blackwatch Gabe defending his s/o from something? The null sector, a creepy guy, maybe even Jack’s had a bad day and goes off on him/her? Anything you can come up with. :) maybe a monster for more Halloween theme?
(How about an abusive ex?)
You were beyond lucky to have a friend like Gabriel. Who else would have given you a place to stay–rent free and no questions asked–when you walked out on your ex? He took care of you and never pressed you to talk about your past relationship. You could tell he had questions. The stern look that crossed his face when he spotted the bruises on your arms and legs made that clear. But he never asked.
You stood alone on the sidewalk after lunch one afternoon waiting for him to finish a phone call and walk you to your car. You couldn’t remember the last time the weather was this nice. A pleasant breeze lifted your hair softly, and the sky was perfectly clear. Maybe it was your good mood, but the whole afternoon seemed perfect.
That was until you looked up from your phone and saw your ex charging across the street toward you. You gasped and glanced around anxiously for anyone to intervene, but the street was empty besides the two of you. As he approached you opened the camera on your phone and started recording, just in case.
“Where the hell have you been?” your ex demanded.
“That’s not your business,” you answered, trying to hide the nervous shaking of your voice. He took a step toward you, and you matched it with a step back. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
You wanted to leave, but you were afraid to turn your back on him.
“I just want to talk to you,” he insisted. You told him ‘no’ in the firmest tone you could manage. “Just listen.”
He grabbed your wrist and held tight. You struggled against his grip, but you weren’t strong enough to get away. You were ready to scream, to alert anyone close enough to hear, when the restaurant door opened behind you. You breathed a silent, thankful prayer to see Gabriel step out into the sunlight. The rosy brightness of his smile was no where to be found. Instead a darkness you had never seem in him settled across his features. Your ex released you and turned his attention to Gabriel.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel asked you.
You nodded and stepped toward the building, putting him between you and your attacker. He grabbed your ex by the collar with both hands and lifted him off the ground so that the toes of his shoes scraped the sidewalk.
“Consider this a warning.” Gabriel spoke with a threatening growl you didn’t know he was capable of. “If you raise a hand to (y/n) or any woman again, I’ll be at your door with Blackwatch’s best before sundown, and being merciful isn’t what we’re known for. Comprende?”
Your ex nodded a panicked assent. Gabriel set the man down and let him straighten his shirt before punching him in the jaw.
“Now beat it,” he commanded.
You watched with some small satisfaction as your ex scampered hectically back to where ever he had parked. Gabriel turned to you, his menacing countenance fading away to the genial smile you knew. He pulled a business card from his pocket with a phone number scribbled on the back of it, and handed it to you.
“You see that creep again, and he so much as looks at you the wrong way, call this number,” he told you. “Me and Jesse will be there in five minutes to get his ass off the street.”
“Thank you.” You took the card and held it in both hands like a priceless heirloom. Tears filled your ears and dripped onto the paper you held. “You do so much for me.”
Gabriel wiped a tear from your cheek and pulled you into a hug.