Harry held out his hand, “Start over?” he was smiling hesitantly, his eyes showing his worry. Draco took his hand, it was larger than he thought it would be, dry and calloused like a laborer rather than a wizard. Harry’s grip was firm and his smile grew more certain and hopeful. After the first failed handshake, Draco had never allowed himself to think Harry would ever look at him like that.
Draco remembered the hope, the warm flutter of nerves that would bloom into happiness over time, “Expecto Patronum.” he held his breath as he opened his eyes, half expecting to see flesh-eating slugs spilling from his wand. Instead, he saw a thin silvery mist, stretching and curling around him even as it slowly began to dissipate.
His breath caught in excitement. Perhaps he could. Perhaps he might be worthy after all.
In the first photo, Jasmine was busy being interesting in and exploring the laundry basket, and he didn’t want to get a head scratch from me just then. Therefore, he communicated that clearly to me by pulling his crest and body feathers back, opening his beak, and taking a few warning swipes at my approaching finger.
In the second photo, Piper was already looking at me and sitting at her perch with feathers puffed, showing that she was calm and open to possible head rubs.
Parrots have times when they are up for cuddles, and times when they don’t feel like it at all. Some birds like cuddling more than others. Some birds may never prefer to cuddle or be touched at all.
No matter which type, please respect your bird’s individual personality and needs. Put yourself into their (adorable dinosaur) feet, and look at the situation from his or her perspective. Try your best to read his or her body language, to understand what your bird is trying to tell you, and he or she will appreciate and trust you even more for it.
I frequently see my posts reblogged with the tag #art ref so I just wanted to quickly make this post to say that if you’re looking for bird reference images I have a load of tags for specific activities, body parts, and angles which may make looking for refs a bit easier for some of you!
aggression - aggressive body language, videos, etc.
I think that’s all of them, and of course if there’s ever an image you need that you just can’t find feel free to ask, odds are that I either have that image somewhere or I can easily snap a new one for you!
Anyways I hope this helps someone, have a blast and art-away!
I got a lot of requests for a Griffin BF and @karanthos sent a donation and asked for this to be pushed to the top of the list.
The ceremony was long and grueling, the feast afterward even more insufferable. None of that compared though to the carriage ride to the honeymoon villa. You became betrothed to this man you had never met since you were young. It had been a promise made by your father to keep his land and title. The plus was, you would now be able to live in the lap of luxury. The downside was that your new husband was an angry, bitter monster.
You glance up at him, inspecting the line of his beak. The way his feathers went into a dark mohawk down the back of his head and into the fluffy, pale mane around his neck. A griffin, your father had told you. A rare creature who brings wealth with him wherever he goes. Gold pours from his talons and silver from his wings.
Note: Did I spend half an hour searching “nhl players tattoos”? Yes. Yes I did.I gave Kenny P. Tyler Seguin’s Stanley Cup tattoo. I’m not sure who has the lake hockey half sleeve but it was preeeeetty, so there.
Alexei walks his fingers over Kent’s ribs. “Tell me about this one.”
The tattoo is just below Kent’s left pectoral, a skeletal hand holding a spray of playing cards (the top card in an ace of spades). At the base of the wrist a ribbon reads “lucky.”
“Ticklish?” Alexei drags the pads of his fingers down Kent’s side.
“Yes,” Kent bites out.
Alexei drags his fingers up Kent’s skin, feeling the bones underneath. “I stop?”
Alexei can feel the tension under his fingers. He stills his hand, traces the outline of the topmost playing card.
“That one was from my first season with the Aces. I wanted something–I still couldn’t believe I had made it.”
The picture on the left is when Luigi first came to me, the picture on the right is the most recent one I’ve taken of him.
The first picture was taken 10th January
The second was taken this Thursday
When he first came to me, I had no idea how to look after a dove. I didn’t plan on having him. I didn’t get him from a rescue. One day my uncle came to the door and said he had an injured baby dove that had smashed into the window of the pub he’d been at. I was the only one who he thought would take it. We think that when he hit the window it had been his first time trying to fly, he didn’t try to fly again until about two months after I’d had him.
His beak was so badly injured that he couldn’t open it to eat. I fed him by adding water to oats, sucking it up in a straw, opening his beak and blowing it down his throat. I don’t know if it was the best way but it was the only way I knew.
He would spend his days out in the house with me, he loved sitting on my head while I watched tv. At night he slept in a big black box, the only thing I had to put him in.
I loved him from the moment I opened the box and I love him even more now. I’ve had to fight my family to keep him, they said that I was ‘a cruel and horrible’ person for keeping a 'wild animal’. Luigi is not wild and he never was. He’s a dove, most species of dove are not wild. He is a garden fantail, they are not wild. He was used to humans the moment he came to us, he may have come from a dove cote. We shall never know. I’ve even had people say they’d call the police on me if I didn’t release him into the wild. I’m glad I stood my ground and didn’t give in. I’m glad that I kept him. I’m glad that I never gave up on him.
He now has all his feathers and spends most of his time outside in the aviary. Oh and yes, yes he still gets bedtime stories.
I want to say thank you to @ramseyringnecks for teaching me so much about pigeons and doves. I was lost on how to care for him until I found your blog. I also want to say thank you to the rest of birblr, it’s a wonderful community and I’m very proud to be part of it.
I am official a surrogate momma hen ! … Until tomorrow.
My cat almost ate a baby blackbird. We saved it and failed to find the nest where it belongs (plus found the corspe of other babies blackbird of the approx same age we though” mmmh no”) The baby isn’t too young, he has his eyes open but clearly cannot fly yet! I contacted a pro, we’ll give it to him tomorrow (he’s not living too far away but neither my mom or sister wanted to take their car :/)
Until then I’ll take care of the little guy! He’s in a shoebox, lid have been perced for air and he has a big comfy nest made of grass~ He ate (raw steak and some crispbread dipped in milk - under the advice of the guy - giving it with a tweezer) and now he’s sleeping peacefully. The guy told me that as long as he was asking for food (like baby bird does, opening their beak super wide) he’ll have good chance to survive ! He’s so cute, he peeping like a toy when i gave him food ! I’ll check back on him in like an hour or so, see if he eat again… I forgot to ask when I should give him food per hour :/ If anyone know, I’m listening !
Oh and of course my cat isn’t welcome in my computer room until tomorrow!
Robbins & Lawrence was a large mid 19th century arms manufacturer based in Windsor Vermont that specialized in producing muskets for the US Army. In 1851 company head Richard Lawrence decided to enter the civilian market, in particular with the production of pepperbox pistols. The design was invented by George Leonard, foreman of the Robbins & Lawrence factory. While being a pepperbox the Robbins & Lawrence still had a lot of really neat features that were quite ahead of its time. A five shot pistol, it featured a hammerless design, the hammer being completely inside the frame. Whereas almost all pepperbox pistols of the day had revolving barrels which were typically hand turned, the Robbins & Lawrence featured fixed barrels. Each barrel was loaded by hand with gunpowder and a bullet (they were produced in .28 and .31 caliber). The pistol broke open much like a beak top revolver, revealing nipples upon which to place percussion caps. This protected the caps from moisture and the elements, decreasing the chance of a misfire.
Inside the frame was a rotating hammer, which would rotate to the next chamber each time it was cocked. The pistol featured two triggers. The larger ring trigger was used to cock the pistol, the smaller forward trigger fired it. On the rear of the grip is a decocking button, an interesting feature that wouldn’t common until the 20th century with semi automatic pistols.
Production of the Robbins & Lawrence pepperbox began in 1851, but would quickly cease in 1854 with barely 3 years of production. The invention of the Colt revolver made pepperbox pistols obsolete, and their popularity quickly began to wane. Around 7,000 Robbins & Lawrence pepperbox pistols were manufactured.
Warnings: mentions of pain torture, jabberjays, mean Capitol
Summary: The Capitol controlled everything, even the hate between you and a certain Finnick Odair. Or so they thought. When you get trapped in the Jabberjays section, you were so sure nothing would affect you. You were terribly wrong.
Word Count: 1678
You wielded your bo before locking it into place on your back. You got separated from Finnick while fighting at the Cornucopia. You had to find Finnick. You were sure that Finnick survived the bloodbath, but you needed to find him as soon as possible. Even though the audience believed that you and Finnick were rivals, you didn’t care. You were getting out of the arena and away from the Capitol, anyway.
Keeping your eyes peeled, you trekked through the jungle environment. So far, there wasn’t anything suspicious. You didn’t dare eat the tempting nuts, go near the lake surrounding the Cornucopia, or shout for Finnick. you played with the bracelet on your wrist, trying to concentrate.
Something moved. You heard the rustle of leaves. You placed your hand on your bo, prepared for anything unexpected.
You stopped in your tracks. That was your mother’s voice. But, your mother was dead. You tilted your head in confusion before resuming your defensive stance.
Your father’s voice. You blinked and shook your head. He was dead, too. You were only in the game for a couple of hours. You knew you weren’t going crazy from sleep deprivation, dehydration, or starvation. You scoffed. The Capitol was trying to play tricks on you. “Not gonna work!” you shouted. “Everyone I care about’s gone,” you stated, walking through the jungle.
“(Y/n)! Help! Please!”
You froze. “Finnick?” you whispered. You shook your head. It couldn’t be him. He was with Katniss, like planned. He couldn’t be anywhere near you. It wasn’t possible.
Your heart crumbled. “Finnick! Finnick! Where are you?” You ripped through the trees. You whipped out your bow. “Finnick!”
“(Y/n)! Help me! Please! (Y/n)!”
Your eyes watered. What was happening to him? Finnick was always so brave. He would never wail like this. Not if something truly horrible was happening. What was the Capitol doing to him? What cruel thing were they doing this time? You had to get to him. You had to help him. You couldn’t go on in this game without him.
“Finnick!” The screams emanated from that area. You spun around. “Finnick!” you cried. “Where are you? Please!”
“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Pain was laced throughout his cries. His pleads speared you right through your heart. Where was he?
You pressed your hands to your head. It hurt! It pained you! You took deep breaths. You had to do something. You had to find a way to get to Finnick. Did the Capitol camouflage him somehow? Maybe he was higher in the trees. “Finnick! I’m coming for you!”
You searched the trees.
“(Y/n)! Help me! (Y/n)! Please!”
Your heart pounded against your chest. A weight crushed your lungs. Your head spun in circles. Everything was green. Green. Green. Green.
Black? Something black caught your eyes. No, wait. It was dark blue. “Finnick?”
The spot flew. It flew towards you! The bird opened its beak. “(Y/n)!”
You screamed and ducked down. Finnick’s cries continued to bombard your ears. you sprung back up. This bird. It was the source of Finnick’s cries. It made you scream his name. It made you scared.
You hated it.
Before the wretched bird could scream its awful cry, you slammed your bo against its head. Your breathing was labored. You shut your eyes and looked away. It was only then that you realized what these monsters were. Jabberjays. Experiments of the Capitols trained to repeat what they’ve heard.
They heard Finnick’s screams. They’ve been with Finnick. He was suffering!
A multitude of Finnick’s shrill screams rang through the air again.
You whipped your head around. A flock of birds swooped down from the trees and headed straight towards you.
You did the only thing you could do. You ran. You pumped your legs as hard as you could.
“(Y/n)! Help me!”
You shook your head. His cries sounded so real. You could picture Finnick in pain. You could see him reaching for you. You could see him pleading for you to come. It was too much to bare. You covered your ears. Tears streamed down your face. You kept on running.
You ran straight into a wall. You couldn’t see it. It was like glass. A force field. “No,” you whispered. You punched the force field. Nothing. You took out your bo and hit it. Nothing. You unsheathed your knife and struck the wall once again. Nothing.
The abominations came at you, surrounding you and engulfing you in its storm.
“(Y/n)! Help me! Help!”
You covered your ears and sunk to the ground. Where was Finnick? He had to be in the arena. What monster did they unleash? What torture were they putting him through? How could they be so cruel?
“Stop it!” you pleaded. “Stop hurting him! Please!”
The torture just grew. Finnick’s screams seemed to grow louder. It clanged about in your heart and head. He was somewhere suffering. And you couldn’t get to him. No matter what you did, Finnick would be suffering without you by his side. The screams of your name echoed, sounding so painful.
You didn’t even realize that the birds had fled. A trident had flown through the air and scared off the Jabberjays.
Someone touched your shoulder. “(Y/n)?”
You sprung up and took out your bo. “Get away from me!” you screamed.
You observed your targets. They looked like tributes. Katniss. Peeta. One looked exactly like Finnick.
It was a trick! It had to be. Finnick was somewhere screaming his head off. This thing was just another illusion by the Capitol. This experiment was just going to trick you. Lead you into some sort of trap. Maybe even kill you. You couldn’t have that happen. You needed to find the real Finnick.
The Finnick copy stepped towards you. “Hey, (y/n), it’s ok. You’re safe now.”
You scowled. “That’s what the Capitol wants me to think,” you sneered.
“Hey, we trust each other, don’t we?”
Its voice sounded just like his. It was so soft and gentle and alluring. But you weren’t going to fall for it. “No. We don’t.”
The thing blinked. “(Y/n),” it purred. “It’s me. I’m Finnick.” It stepped towards you.
You held your bo so that the pointed end rested on its chest. “And how the hell do I know that?”
The Katniss fake strung an arrow.
You threatened, “Don’t test me, you mutt.”
“Hey,” Finnick-fake started, bringing your attention back to him. “(Y/n), I’ll prove it to you. I’m real.”
You just stared at him.
It took your silence as a go-ahead. “You won the 67th Hunger Games at the age of fifteen. I was your mentor.” The counterfeit Finnick laughed, pointing at your charm bracelet. “That bracelet’s nice.”
You slightly pushed your bo forward. It wasn’t enough to harm the mutt, but it was enough to warn it. “Anyone could figure that out. The Capitol knows all of that.”
“Ah, but they don’t know one about you.”
“And what is this one thing?”
It smiled ever so slightly. “You told everyone that bracelet was made by Mags. You lied. I gave that promise to you.”
You gulped. You and Finnick had agreed to never tell anyone about the two of you. Before you were reaped, Finnick and you were the best of friends. You jumped forward when his name was called at his Reaping. You were interviewed when the Games was nearing its end. You were the first to congratulate him when he came back home.
The Capitol hated that. The Capitol didn’t like the idea of their District 4 sex symbol being tied down.
All footage of you was cut from the viewings. However, it didn’t stop Finnick from bringing you on camera. He invited you to his house when paparazzi was there. He mentioned you in every interview. He didn’t want to lose you as a best friend.
The Capitol fought back. That’s when you were reaped.
After you won, Finnick and you admitted your love for each other in private. However, the two of you knew it wouldn’t please the Capitol. Not wanting to take the risk, Finnick and you agreed never to be seen on camera together, never mention each other in interviews, never even talk to each other at home. In order to make people believe it, Finnick and you staged an argument that played on television for years. You scheduled secret meetings in different places at different times, successfully keeping the Capitol off your trail.
“We have to stop doing this,” you had muttered once against Finnick’s lips.
“You want to stop kissing?”
You had laughed and stared into his eyes. “Finnick, how is this going to work?”
Finnick had sighed. “We will be together one day. I promise.”
It wasn’t enough proof for you. You had stared at the ground.
“Hey, I got you something.” Finnick had slipped something cool on your wrist.
You had looked at your wrist and smiled sadly. “A charm bracelet?”
“A promise.” He had lifted your hand and gently kissed your knuckles. “I will always love you, (Y/n).”
This mutt was not a mutt. It was Finnick, the one who loved you, the one you loved you. It was your best friend. You dropped your weapon and smiled. “Finnick,” you whispered.
The young man beamed and took you in his arms. He threaded his fingers through your hair. The Victor sighed as relief took over his body. He hadn’t held you so close in so long. With so many cameras around, he never had the chance to.
You hugged him close to you. “I thought- I thought you were… You were screaming for me,” you exasperated. It filled you with joy being back in Finnick’s arms. You smiled widely. you could finally hug him, even if the Capitol was watching.
Finnick chuckled a little before tightening his grip on you. “I missed you. So much.”
You smiled. “Me, too. I missed you, too.”
Hey guys! I had way too much fun with this one…. Sorry if it’s really confusing. One thing led to another and then it became a complicated and convoluted plot.
So! I hope you don’t hate it! Have a great night guys! Hope to talk to you again soon!
based on the prompt: You get an ‘impression’ of your soulmate when you turn 18
or something but all I got was a strong smell of bananas or an overwhelming
feeling that Thatcher was a good prime minister or an image in my mind of a
a world where you get an impression of your soulmate at a certain age, Trini
tries to navigate life and what it means that she saw a pink pterodactyl flying
through the sky for her impression.
Trini grew up in a society where soulmates were a normal thing.
Between the ages of 12 and 16 most people would get an impression of
your soulmate. A moment where you would get a glimpse into who they
were, into their life. Sometimes those impressions were a sound like a
few notes of a song, other times it was a smell like the strong smell of
bananas, sometimes it was an image like their face or a car and
sometimes it was just a feeling like that Thatcher was a good prime
minister and in rare cases it was a mixture out of everything.
Requested:hi! could you do an imagine where the reader is from beauxbatons and she meets newt and he really likes her because she’s pretty and very soft and natural and calm?
Remember to request Ships, Imagines, Preferences, and Storylines!!!
(English translation in italics & bold)
Sun high in the sky, shining over the small wizard village in France in which you’ve lived your whole life. You journey down the cobblestone streets excited to start your summer holiday. That is until a florescent pink bird swoops out of no where and lands on your head. It flutters around not making a single sound. Carefully you cup the small bird in your hands, bringing it down from on top of your head. It gives a mute chirp of gratitude. The small pink bird perks up to gaze at you.
“Pourquoi bonjour petit gars. (Why hello little guy.)”, you beam.
As the bird gives another silent chirp a young man comes rushing down the street, apologizing every few minutes to whomever he had run into. He skids to a stop when he reaches you and gives a worried look.
He is rather tall and thin, with reddish brown hair, and dazzling blue eyes. He wears a white button up shirt with a green sweater-vest and tie. In one hand his wand. In the other hand he holds a case by its handle.
“I’m so sorry miss. My bird it-” He stops his babbling to get a good look at you.
“Salut, mon nom est Y/n L/n, et tu est? (Hi, my name’s Y/n L/n, and you are)?”, You hold out your free hand to shake.
“Newt Scamander.” Newt shakes your hand,”Je suis terriblement désolé pour mon oiseau. Il est un artiste d'évasion.(I’m terribly sorry about my bird. He’s an escape artist.)”
He places his wand in his pocket and sets the case down onto the ground. Newt gently takes the bird, cradling it in his large hands. The bird gives another silent twitter before curling up into a small feathery ball.
“Tu parle français? Êtes-vous de la région? (You speak french? Are you from here?)” You question.
Newt gives a lopsided grin and responds, “Oh non, je suis anglais. J'étudie ici. (Oh no, I’m English. I’m studying here.)”
“Vous assistez à Beauxbatons? (Then you attend Beauxbatons?)”
“Non, j'ai été expulsé de Hogwarts.(No, I was expelled from Hogwarts.)” Newt explains.
“Ah, je vois. (Ah, I see.)” You smile at the casual way he had said this,”Voulez-vous prendre un café avec moi? (Would you want to get some coffee with me?)”
“Sans doute.(Of course.)” Newt beams at the offer.
He picks up his case and lightly places the now awake bird on his shoulder.
You grin as the small bird hops to and fro across the table. It’s beak opens and closes yet not a single sound comes out.
“Quel genre d'oiseau est-ce? Je n'ai jamais vu un comme ça. (What kind of bird is this? I never saw one like that.)”
Newt gazes at you with a sense of interest,”Robert est un Fwooper. Il est originaire d'Afrique. Fwoopers sont vendus avec un charme silencieux mis sur eux parce que leur chanson twittering conduira l'auditeur fou. Le charme doit être renouvelé chaque mois.(Robert is a Fwooper. He is originally from Africa. Fwoopers are sold with a silencing charm placed of them because their twittering drives the listener insane. The charm has to be renewed every month.)”
Newt lightly strokes the Fwooper. You take a second to study the foreigner’s simple yet entrancing features. Freckles scatter across his kind face. his eyes sparkle as he speaks of his adventures.
“Quelque chose ne va pas? (Is there something wrong?)” Newt asks.
You awake from your trance to see Newt shyly looking at you. Robert seemed to of found a nice napping place on your hand.
“Non non, j'ai été… distrait. (No no, I was just… distracted.)”
“Ah, je vois…(Ah, I see...)” Newt smiles. He looks at the table and plays with the hem of his shirt.
“Si vous ne vous dérangez pas de le dire, je pense que vous êtes absolument magnifique.(If you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’re absolutely beautiful.)”
You blush at the rather random compliment. Newt glances up for a moment, scared that he’d said the wrong thing.
“Désolé … c'était un peu hors de nulle part. (Sorry… that was a bit out of nowhere.)”
“Non c'est d'accord. (No it’s alright.)” You grin leaning across the table,”En fait, si ça ne te dérange pas, je t'embrasserai. (In fact, if you don’t mind me doing so, I’m going to kiss you.)”
With that you lean in and peck Newt on the lips, sitting back into chair and smiling at his dumbfound face. Newt smiles at you and takes a timid drink of his coffee. The both of you then sit together in silence, smiling and enjoying the beautiful sunny day.
“I have a friend,” Astounding, through the clinking and scraping of plates, an extra helping of carrot so seemingly fond. “He looks a little odd though, I don’t really wanna hurt his feelings though so I try really hard.”
Perhaps the finest news for Nana. At eight, every child should have at least one or two companions. He will have plenty of friends to depend on in time, Nana doesn’t doubt. One is progress after all.
“Oh? Well it’s kind to be accepting of others.”
Tsuna talks through a mouthful of chicken, “yeah and he’s really tall! Super duper tall. I like his hat too,”
Quietly passes him a napkin, amused and yet excited herself. “Do you intend to bring him over to play sometime, love?” Knows he’s never enjoyed her friends being the only guests, always inclined to pinch his cheeks or give him a hard candy that he absolutely despised not that it was intended.
Tsuna needs a friend his own age after all.
His eyes are shining so bright they may become light of their own. “Will I! I can’t wait for you to meet Reborn!”
A peculiar name. But not uncommon.
Nana forgets after dinner and doesn’t remember until the next afternoon. Laying out an after school snack something nags at her not to forget an extra plate.
Despite still foggy memory on the reason why, it’s set.
And then the tiny knock as every afternoon, and she really should get him some sort of key. On a necklace he can’t lose preferably.
The usual arms around her neck for a welcome home hug, only different…..
Off kilter, the room is wildly off kilter and there are legs, only two but they aren’t legs of a child. Not Tsuna’s little friend. Long, lanky, oddly bent.
“Tsuna……what is- who is that.”
Arms unwind as fast as they can in his excitement to introduce this person he clearly knows, Nana can feel her heart beating so fast she almost yanks him back. Into her arms. Into protection.
Indeed tall. Taller than anyone she’s met. Off.
Oh, the head, ducking into their home. All she can see is a veil of ugliness. And though she’s tried so very hard as far back as she can remember never to judge a soul based on appearance, the second this… bird headed man tipped his fedora at her and opened his beak revealing tiny rows of sharp teeth followed by a deep “good afternoon.”
Clutching the edge of the table until her knuckles were white. Nana screamed and screamed, not able to hear anything over the sound of her own terror.
Tsuna managed to scream louder on the third try, “YOU’RE BEING RUDE TO HIM!”
For some reason this stopped her mid-scream, her mouth closed and eyes shift to her son, huffing. Tsuna is clearly upset but not for the reason he should be but because of her being seemingly unpleasant.
“Mama, he said hello. You shouldn’t scream….”
Shouldn’t….scream….. Nana stares at him incredulous.
“Tsu, he has a bird’s head.”
“So?” Protectively grabs Reborn’s hand much to the bird man’s interest. “People can’t help it. ‘Cause he was born that way.”
A sound argument. In light of things, too accepting. Her son is perfectly normal while she can only cower on tile.
“I apologize for the fright, Mama. I’ve hardly introduced myself. My name is Reborn.”
Nana’s eyes shift to Reborn, mouth opening and closing soundlessly floundering for words. Finally, “hello” is all that can really escape. Though a whisper.
He had called her Mama. Really….incredible.
She wanted to cry. Scream. Ask her son if he was out of his young little mind bringing something so evil into their home.
Yet she didn’t. Watching Tsuna invite him into a seat and pass him a juice box he surely couldn’t drink yet attempted to anyhow, Nana could only bring herself to let him stay.
She’s never been drunk before but she’s so willing to try.
He’s clearly a manifestation of evil sitting at her kitchen table drinking apple juice with his beak and a cheap straw. Sitting straight, impeccably mannered as he leans over insisting that Tsuna adjust his own crooked collar that way since the swings or someone will mistake him for an incredibly rude little boy instead of a nice one.
Tsuna needs his own friends.
Be it a creature of darkness or not. She’ll learn to set out extra snacks from now on.
There was this strange feeling in his gut. Something bothered him but he couldn’t tell what it was. That was just an impression, like something strangely bad was going to happen. Sirius looked outside the window, it was a dull night, Halloween, where kids were trick or treating with their parents, disguised into vampires, witches and animals, all sorts of curious things. Sirius scoffed. If only they knew. He wished he could have spent this night with his godson. But James’ son was safe, at home, with his two loving parents. It reassured Sirius. He thought about Y/N. Usually, Saturdays were their night together. They’d be wandering in London’s street, they’d grab a bite, laugh louder than they should, annoying everybody with their love. But dark were the days and dangerous was this time. He really wished to be with her that very moment, hiding into her dark locks as she’d play with his hair. Feeling her chest rise while she was breathing, making sure she was really there. He never really knew what good he did in his young life to deserve somebody like Y/N. He knew she was safe with her parents. He wished Moony was there, but they were not talking anymore. Sirius wasn’t sure where Remus’ loyalty laid nowadays. He didn’t trust him and it was hurting. If they could only stop Voldemort once and for all, if they could just only carry on with their lives… But no such thing was certain. They were at war. Gone were the days when they were just arrogant teenagers, when the only thing that they’d worry about was the next Quidditch match or the upcoming exams. Where James’ biggest interest was into fancying the gorgeous girl that was Lily Evans. When the darkest time was when they’d have to spend a full moon night to protect Remus from himself. Sirius sat on the couch and sighed. He didn’t know what to do. Getting out was dangerous, Dumbledore had forbidden anyone to go out and wander if not necessary. But he had to do something, he thought, he felt like he must go. He couldn’t just sit and wait anymore. After some annoying and worrying thoughts, he finally fell asleep, completely dressed, in a very, very uncomfortable position.
A loud crack woke him up by surprise. He jumped on his feet. ‘Y/N?’ he asked. But she wasn’t there. Instead, outside the window, was an owl holding a parchment in its beak. Sirius opened the window and took the letter in his trembling hands. He started carefully reading it. ‘There has been an attack at Godric’s Hollow…’ He let the letter fall on the floor, his vision started to blur. He grabbed his leather jacket and helmet and got out of his flat, running. His heart was beating louder and faster in his chest. He took his motorcycle and started the motor with a roaring sound.
While he was on his way to James’ house, all he thought was he hoped they’d be fine. James was a powerful wizard; there was no way he was in danger. Lily and Harry would be okay. ‘Come on!’ grinned Sirius, already driving the fastest he could. ‘COME ON!’
He finally pushed on a curious button alongside the handlebar and the engine flew in the air. This was the fastest way to get into the small village where the little family lived. It seemed like he flew in the air forever as he reached Godric’s Hollow’s sky. Up there, he knew he’d find James, Lily and Harry, surrounded and protected by the Order and the Ministry.
‘You didn’t need to run to us like a dog, Padfoot! See, we’re okay! It was just a scare’ would say James to him, patting him on the shoulders. They would be laughing. Sirius wouldn’t admit to James that he had the fear of his life, but his best friend would know it anyway.
He finally touched down the ground and reached the street corner. As soon as he stopped the motor, he knew something was going on, he thought. There was an oddly radiating light coming out of the Potters’ house. Then he saw it. There was no cottage anymore, not like he knew it. Blown up wood was all around, laying and shredded on the ground, some walls were not there anymore. Sirius felt like he wanted to run into to the house at once but he feared what he was going to discover inside. It’s like if an invisible hand was pulling him from behind. He could not believe something like that happened. James was supposed to be fine. Finally, he stepped on what was left of the porch and entered the house, shaking nervously. He felt like he watched himself from outside his own body. Everything felt so silent. As he turned around the living room, he looked down at the body down the staircase. His worst nightmare was now reality. It was a pure vision of horror he would never be able to forget. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t happening. ‘James?’ whispered Sirius, like his friend was asleep and he didn’t want to scare him by waking him up abruptly. But James was not asleep. His hazel eyes were fixing the ceiling, frozen in death and there was this horrible expression on his face. James died worried, James died knowing Lily and Harry might not survive that night. Tears started to pick Sirius’ eyes. He kneeled next to his best friend and looked at him, completely devoid. He finally dared to touch the cold body and closed James’ eyelids softly.
‘I’ll see you on the other side’ he muttered, tears slowly blinding him.
He’d never hear James’ laugh again. He was gone. Sirius sniffed and started to climb the stairs leading to the second floor. He knew there was nobody alive in this house anymore, but he had to see it for himself. He had to know they were all gone for good. He had to make sure his whole world had really collapsed. He moved very carefully, like his footsteps would disturb the awful silence that was reigning in the cottage. His heart jumped when he saw Hagrid standing in the middle of Harry’s bedroom, sniffing and whimpering like an infant. He hadn’t seen the giant man since he left Hogwarts five years ago. At his feet, dark red locks were reflecting the strangely lit room. He didn’t need to see more. Laying on her stomach, Lily almost looked peaceful. Sirius made the floor crack as Hagrid turned around snappishly to face the intruder, pointing a pink umbrella at Sirius’ chest. He was holding tightly something in his other arm, something he needed to protect. ‘Hagrid?’ muttered Sirius, facing Hogwarts’ gamekeeper. ‘Sirius Black?’ replied the big man standing. ‘Is Harry…?’ ‘Found him in his crib like that, crying for his mum. Poor Lily…’ cried Hagrid, looking down at the dead woman. Sirius glanced at the child, wrapped in a blue blanket, now sound asleep into the giant’s arms . He stepped towards Harry, but Hagrid stepped back as well. ‘Don’t’ he said rudely. Sirius laid down his wand. He opened his arms and reached out for Harry. ‘Give me the child, Hagrid.’ ‘No. Dumbledore told me to keep him. Bring him to safety.’ ‘I’m his godfather’ replied Sirius, now crying.’He’s safe with me.’ Mercifully, Harry was alive. Sirius knew that he was going to live to protect this child from now on. He’d be right for James, right for Lily. He’d take care of their son like the Potters took care of him. ‘Ye’re not going to have him, Sirius. Dumbledore told me to take him to the Dursleys.’ ‘The Dursleys? What are you talking about? Give me the child Hagrid!’ But Hagrid pointed again his pink umbrella to Sirius’ chest. He put his hand in the air. ‘What happened Hagrid?’ he cautiously asked. Hagrid’s eyes opened widely. ‘Ye don’t know? The Dark Lord, he gone!’ he replied between sniffles. Sirius’ expression changed. What could have happened in this house that his best friend and wife, along with Voldemort, were all dead? Life had no meaning anymore. If he couldn’t even take care of Harry, if is best friend lost his life to the hand of Lord Voldemort, what was left for Sirius? He failed at protecting them and he’d be failing as a godfather as well if he couldn’t take care of Harry. ‘Who has been here?’ Sirius asked, his chest beginning to become tight. ‘Only Dumbledore and me’ Hagrid replied, looking at Harry’s face. Sirius followed Hagrid’s gaze to his godson’s forehead where a bloody scar formed a lightning bolt shape. ‘Nobody else?’ asked Sirius, his thoughts starting to put the pieces together. ‘Well, only ye and that Pettigrew boy, he came earlier, saw the scene and vanished.’ ‘Where did he go? When was that?’ asked Sirius, panicked. ‘Not long ago, he didn’t say where he was going’ sniffled Hagrid.
Police’s sirens could be heard. They needed to get out.
Sirius turned his back and wiped his face stained with tears. The giant followed him and started to walk out of the house. ‘Where’re you going?’ shouted Sirius, trying to fight back the unbearable pain he felt. He didn’t want to leave James and Lily behind. But he needed to go. ‘Told ye, I need to bring the boy to The Dursleys’ Hagrid replied. ‘Dumbledore’s orders.’ ‘You’re not going to get there by walking!’ Hagrid turned around, Harry seemed so small in his arms. ‘Take the bike’ Sirius said. ‘I won’t need it anymore’ And without looking back he disapparated. He found himself into a poorly lightened backstreet. Outraged, he knocked on Wormtail’s door. He waited. Nobody came to answer. ‘PETER!’ he shouted, trying to stop his body to shake with anger. He drew his wand off his pocket and blasted the door with rage. He entered Peter’s hiding place. Obviously he wasn’t there. He looked all around; everything seemed to be in its right place. Sirius started to pace inside the little flat. Everything was in order, why was everything in order? Oh, what a naïve and fool he had been! Nervously he put his hand in his face and fell on his knees. ‘No, no, no!’ he shouted, panting and sweating. There was this knot inside him, tearing him off completely. At that moment, Sirius realized the mistake he had made. He should have stayed the secret keeper. He never should have trusted Peter. He couldn’t be right; James and Lily couldn’t be dead because of this, could they? Because of him? Sirius got up. Filled with rage, he clenched his fists together when he saw a tiny man looking at him through the opened door. His watery eyes were crammed with a mix of panic and fear. ‘YOU!’ said Sirius, getting out of Peter’s lair in a hurry. Peter was running as fast as he could, soon reaching the crowded streets of London. But Sirius didn’t care anymore. If Muggles saw them didn’t matter. ‘YOU TRAITOR!’ shouted Sirius, jumping on Peter’s back. They both fell on the sidewalk, where horrified people dispersed themselves from the two fighting men. Sirius lifted Peter by the collar and punched him. ‘They trusted you! Why did you do it? Why did you tell him where they were?’ Peter looked around for an issue and bit Sirius’ hand. Sirius released him as Peter ran away. Sirius looked at his bleeding hand, losing focus on Peter. ‘You come back! I swear with my life you’re going to pay, Pettigrew!’ Leaning on a brick wall, observed by a dozen of eyes, Peter turned his back from the crowd and Sirius saw him doing something odd, like he was messing with his hands. He heard a childlike little scream of pain escape from Peter’s mouth as he saw a strange little shape falling on the ground followed by a trail of dark blood. Sirius observed him, confused. Peter turned around with a smirk on his face. Although he looked in pain, he also looked like he was about to laugh. Sirius looked down at Peter’s hand, where a missing finger could be noticed.
‘YOU KILLED JAMES AND LILY!’ Peter shouted, like if he was performing in front of an audience. ‘YOU BETRAYED THEM TO THE DARK LORD!’
‘Oh, don’t you dare…’ growled Sirius, reaching for his wand. But before anything could happen, the ground disappeared under his feet as he felt a massive pain in the head. He felt his body flown into the air and banging in the cement soil. There was this incessant buzzing, his head felt suddenly heavy. Sirius tried to open his eyes filled with dirt. He finally sat down and he looked all around him. Beside him laid a dozen of people among the debris as the sound of a blown up fountain post could be heard. Sirius noticed Peter’s absence. His heart felt crushed again. Everything seemed to be absurd, what was this living nightmare? Life was just dissolving before his eyes. How many had to die tonight? The only thing he knew is that if he had been the secret keeper, like it was supposed to be, he’d be the only dead one. He would never have given up on James and Lily, surely leading to his death, but Harry would still have his parents. He hated himself and he hated life’s unfairness.
Through his silent tears, he scoffed. Everything did not happen the way it was supposed to. He started to laugh uncontrollably. Nervously at first but his laugh became louder and louder. He was laughing the pain away, he was laughing the guilt away. As the Aurors arrived on the scene, he felt arms grabbing him by the shoulders. His laughter was echoing in this sinister night where he knew, he really knew, everything was never going to be the same again. Although he was still alive, he felt like he wasn’t anymore.
Gladstone gave a huff as he pushed the entertainment display table towards the wall. He wasn’t the strongest of ducks, but it was amazing what one could accomplish when they were desperate.
It took several minutes, but he finally managed to get it against the opposing wall, and he took a moment to lean against the heavy wood and catch his breath. Looking up, he spotted his goal, the air vent grate; if he could just get inside it, he could crawl his way to freedom.
At least, that was the plan, anyway. There were a couple things that could potentially get in the way of it.
He glanced down at his ankle. No sign of that glowing chain that had appeared the first time he tried to leave. That time, Liu Hai had been present, and saw him trying to get out the doors. He wasn’t entirely sure how that magic mumbo jumbo worked, but this plan made sense to him at least.
If he fled without the toad noticing, that crazy demon wouldn’t be able to activate it this time. But first things first, getting into the vents. He turned to look around the suite, searching for anything that could aid his climb. He set to work, grabbing chairs, picture frames, the large mask against the wall, and stacking them up on the desk. It came up a little short, but he could reach it if he stretched far enough. He checked the clock on his nightstand, and quickly began climbing.
Now was about the time Liu Hai would appear on the floor, checking on the guests, handing out gifts, persuading them to stay a little longer with whatever thing he could construct to pique their interest.
Harvesting their luck like a farmer tending to his fields.
Gladstone’s lack of attendance would be noticed without a doubt, and it didn’t take Liu Hai long to traverse the casino. He needed to get moving, now.
He reached the top of the precarious tower, and with some straining, he was able to reach the grate. It came free with ease, and he pulled himself into the vent. He was met with a long dark tunnel, stretching on further than he could see. He was prepared though, and pulled out a small, frog shaped flashlight he’d gotten from a gift basket left at his door by the staff, and armed with this, he began his trek.
As he made his way through the tunnels, his thoughts went to the last few weeks.
It had seemed like a nice casino at first, the best one he’d ever seen even. The buffet was mouthwatering, the games were exciting, and of course, he won every single time. Casinos were always easy money, though they were often a short-lived business; most times, he was chased out by the end of the day. Not this time though, if anything, the owner was happy to have him. Even seemed glad that he was winning at every game.
He supposed he should’ve known something was wrong, taking that into account. But he’d been too caught up in his winning streak to care about Liu Hai’s constant attention.
He hadn’t been planning to spend the night, but a sudden onset of exhaustion had hit him (he’d written it off as jet lag), and Liu Hai was very persuasive. He’d been talked into booking a room for a few days, and hadn’t left since. He’d been too caught up in his streak of fortune and the wondrous attractions of the hotel to question anything, like the strange fatigue that would hit him every night, or not being able to find the lobby when he was trying to ask about a check out date; he’d been quickly taken off course from that by the addition of an indoor garden area. It was full of all sorts of strange and exotic plants, and it was just too exciting to turn down a personal tour.
Gladstone paused for a moment as he came to a fork in the tunnels; after a moment, he chose left, and kept crawling. He could faintly hear the music that blared in the casino. He wondered if Liu Hai had noticed his absence yet; or if he realized Gladstone wasn’t even in his room.
No, Gladstone had a feeling he’d know when Liu Hai realized what happened. Probably a lot of shouting; he almost wished he’d be able to see the toad’s face when he realized he’d lost his favorite snack.
A smirk briefly formed at the thought, but disappeared as he came to a steep drop off tunnel. There was no going back now, he didn’t have the time, he’d just have to take the plunge and trust his luck. He took a steady breath, before pushing off the edge.
His drop was brief, and he hit the bottom with heavy thud. He took a moment to catch his breath, but noticed there was a faint light in the vent that wasn’t coming from his flashlight. Looking ahead, there was a sharp turn to the right, and light was coming from it.
Outside light; this was it, this was his big break!
“Yes, yesyesyesyes, Gladdy, you are home free!”
He quickly started towards it, new energy coursing through him at the idea of getting out.
So close, almost there–
He was jerked to a halt, and there was a sound of metal on metal behind him.
Heart plummeting, Gladstone hesitantly looked back; he was met with that glowing green chain, as solid as if it had been there all along.
And maybe it had, just out of sight.
“No, no, no…”
He gave it a few experimental tugs, but it refused to let him move any further.
No, that wasn’t…this couldn’t be it. Not when he was so close, so close–
He yanked on the chain furiously, desperate to get out, despite knowing it was impossible now. He could hear the chain banging against the tunnels further back, and he was certain the toad-like statue it was attached to was most likely back in his suite.
He wasn’t getting out, not today, maybe not ever. He was stuck here, until Toad decided to let him go.
And that was never gonna happen.
He finally threw the chain down, and slumped against the wall of the vent in defeat.
He didn’t know what to do now; this entire plan was based on a whim, assuming the chain wouldn’t stop him without Liu Hai seeing him.
What was he going to do now?
‘I could live here in the vents, I guess; it’s quiet, secluded, no luck-leeching toads standing over me. I could make it.’
He gave a soft chuckle at the thought, noting the sting in his eyes from oncoming tears. No, Liu Hai would find him before too long, will the building away like he’d done before when Gladstone had first tried to leave.
He could return to his room, use the chain to climb his way back up; he could return to the casino floor, act like he’d been sleeping or watching TV, Liu Hai might buy that. He wouldn’t care, as long as he got his daily meal.
Whatever Gladstone’s plan might’ve been though, would remain unknown.
The chain was given a soft tug, but not from Gladstone’s end; he stared for a moment, realization dawning in his eyes, before he was jerked from the wall with a yelp. He dropped the flashlight, and found himself being dragged through the now dark ventilation tunnels at mind-boggling speed. He reached blindly for anything to hold onto, and managed to grab what he assumed was a corner. He held on as tight as he could, but the force pulling him was stronger, and he soon lost his grip.
A few seconds later, he was flying out of the entrance grate in his suite, and crashing onto the floor.
He gave a moan as he pushed himself onto his elbows, one hand held to his head.
“Rough ride, Mr. Gander?”
The voice made him jerk his head up, and he winced upon seeing a very angry Lui Hai standing beside the luminescent statue, chain in hand. Gladstone hastily sat up, beak opening and closing several times as he searched for anything he could say that might explain this away, before offering a nervous shrug and grin.
“Yeah, I got nothing.”
Liu Hai’s eyes remained narrowed, seething with rage. He finally spoke, and his voice, while seemingly calm, held a malicious edge to it that gave it a resonating effect.
“I have been very patient and very generous with you, Mr. Gander. But at this point, I’m starting to think I’m wasting my time…”
“Gener– are you insane?!”
Gladstone shot to his feet, a desperate anger fueling his movements. He jabbed a finger at the toad furiously, and Liu Hai seemed stunned at his audacity.
“You’ve kept me locked in this nightmare of a hotel, feeding on me like a freaking leech! What part of that is generosity?!”
Liu Hai loosed a growl, before snatching the offending arm in a tight grip. Gladstone jumped at the sudden movement, and strained against the iron hold as the toad snarled in his face.
“Now you listen to me, Gladstone; you’ve experienced nothing but the best hospitality I’m capable of giving. You’re staying in the largest suite in the building, you’re free to go wherever in here you wish, you have access to the finest food in the world, and most importantly…I allow you a reprieve at the end of the day.”
With each statement, Gladstone could feel that uncomfortable tingle on his spine that came when Liu Hai was devouring his luck growing stronger. He fought the oncoming exhaustion that came with it, attempting to pry his arm free, but Toad held tight.
“Let go! What’re you…!”
“But I can take all that away, leave you on a simple platform, and keep you playing until you drop. No bed, no food, nothing that will keep you from serving me!”
There was something different about this time; a strange pressure that hadn’t been there before. Like a cold, slimy thing was slowly crawling up his spine, so cold it was painful. It was making it difficult to breath, causing him to wheeze as he continued his struggle to get free.
Liu Hai sneered, and pulled him closer.
“In the time you’ve been here, I’ve never drained you past your limits. It’s not a fun process, for you that is; but, it tends to take a few days to fully recover. It’s time and potential luck wasted, so I’d rather it not come to that, and I assume you don’t want that either.”
Gladstone’s struggling had stopped due to the numbness that had taken hold, and the only thing keeping him standing at this point was Liu Hai’s grip on his arm. The only response he could give was a soft mumble, unable to meet the other’s gaze until a hand forced him to.
“So tell me, Mr. Gander, are you going to make me do that? Or, would you like your stay here to remain pleasant?”
His terrified eyes met Liu Hai’s smug golden ones, sputtering for a moment; finally, he managed to give a choked reply.
Liu Hai finally released his arm, allowing Gladstone to fall to the floor with a grunt.
“Now then, I’m sure you’re exhausted from your exciting vent crawling and this conversation, so I insist you retire for the evening.”
Gladstone, struggling to sit up, weakly met his gaze. Liu Hai wore a calm smirk, and turned towards the bedroom doors.
“But I urge you to join us in the morning for our daily raffle, who knows who might win…”
The sentence was punctuated with a chuckle, followed by the closing of the doors. Maybe it was his imagination, but Gladstone thought he heard the click of a lock.
It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.
It took some time before he could bring himself to move. The numbness had subsided not too long after Liu Hai had released him, but the fatigue remained, leaving him feeling hollow. He pushed himself to his feet, and stumbled towards his bed, vaguely noting that the furniture he’d moved earlier had been returned to their places. Glancing at it, he also noticed the grate to the vents had been noticeably moved higher, far out of reach of anything else he could build.
He sighed as he reached the bed, taking one last look around the room, before falling into its welcoming embrace of cotton sheets. For a little while, at least, he could ignore his predicament, escape into slumber. But he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, eventually he’d have to return to the game floor, to the illusionary crowds and deafening music, to the never ending winning streak he couldn’t escape.
To Liu Hai.
Sleep took him fast.
Something that’s been intriguing me was the curiosity of what happened before Donald and co showed up.
I am friggin’ half asleep, but I wanted to post this before tomorrow cuz I’m gonna be busy. I’ll make a post explaining a little more what my head canons are about Lui Hai and his abilities, but for now, enjoy.
“Ah, Gyro. I was wondering…” Scrooge hesitated as his chief inventor looked up from whatever he was doing, narrowing his eyes at Scrooge for the disruption, disdain rolling off of him.
Scrooge huffed, annoyed. “Now ye know I would never presume to tell ye what to invent-”
“I’m sensing a ‘But’ there.” Gyro said dryly, pushing his glasses up on his face before crossing his arms over his chest. Possibly willing to listen, but not to agree to anything.
“A small inquiry, more like it.” Scrooge defended, tapping his cane on the ground.
Gyro rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He sighed, slouching dramatically. “What are you interrupting my valuable time to inquire about?”
Scrooge didn’t bother wasting any more time or words. “Is it possible to make a collapsable aeroplane?”
Gyro stared at him for a second opening his beak to speak, then paused, closing his beak and pondering over it for a long moment. “Collapsible as in you unfold it to fly?”
“'Collapsible’ as in 'Launchpad’.” Scrooge drawled. Gyro gave him a blank look. “Something that purposely folds upon impact, that can then be snapped back into shape and ready to fly in a manner of seconds. Something crash resistant.” Scrooge extrapolated.
Gyro’s expression cleared slightly, then he turned serious, tucking a hand under his chin, an idle finger rubbing the bottom of his beak. “Logical.” He finally announced. “Something flexible enough to take the impact, but solid enough to generally keep it’s shape. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Excellent.” Scrooge breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe something would come out of this, maybe nothing, it didn’t hurt to try.
“Although, really.” Gyro waved a hand dismissively. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to get a different pilot? One that wasn’t quite so catastrophe proned?”
“Fire Launchpad?!” Scrooge spluttered. “Are ye DAFT? Do you know how hard it was to find a driver of his skill and loyalty, with NO interest in business or politics?! Me business has saved millions since I found him!”
Brought down the stress levels of his head of security at the same time too, since he didn’t have to worry about what business or reading he did in the limo, or around Launchpad in general.The lad simply didn’t care about it, or money in general, which meant they didn’t have to worry corporate espionage or accidental insider trading.
And you couldn’t buy the type of loyalty and insanity Launchpad had. It had to be earned, kept, and reinforced.
Scrooge raised an eyebrow at Gyro. “It’d be like firing you because of all those robots of yours that run amuck.”
And unlike with Gyro’s robots, when Launchpad crashed, no one got hurt. Skill or blessing, Scrooge still wasn’t sure.
Gyro shut his bill with a small clack. “I’ll put the crash proof aeroplane to the top of my list.” He said smoothly. “I can already think of several applications for such technology.”
Such as crashproof robots that ran amuck, Scrooge had little doubt.
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands.” Scrooge inclined his head and showed himself out.
Could you possibly do a newt x reader where the reader is a writer like newt and everyone thinks they’re in a relationship but they’re not but then he asked her out at in interview or some event? - Anon
You’re gonna have to work with me here since in this one wizards use the Internet
E/C: Eye color
H/C: Hair color
L/N: Last name
Hope you like it, a lot longer than I intended
You were the author of a book on magical herbs and their primary use. Your book had become a worldwide sensation the same time as another wizard’s book had rose to fame. Newt Scamander, and his book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. You and Newt had crossed paths once or twice, yes. Once you met Newt to ask him a few questions about if any of his herbivorous eat any of the plants you were studying. He gladly answered all of your questions and even took the time to ask you a few questions himself. That was all; nothing special or romantic.
But your fans wanted different.
Most of them thought you two would be the absolute perfect couple. You never thought
much of it. That is, until people began writing this weird stuff called “fan fiction” about you and Newt. #Y/N Scamander was everywhere. Being the curious individual you were, you read some of it. That was when you realized what a cute couple you two would actually be. Sure, you did think Newt was a bit cute. Okay… a lot. The beautiful cinnamon dusted curls, seafoam eyes, the adorable freckles that dotted his face…
As it turns out, Newt sees you the same way. Luscious H/C locks, sparkling E/C eyes, perfect everything. The last time you saw each other was a little over a month ago at a book signing.
Two days later, the Ministry sent out letters (by owl, of course) to selected people involved in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures from England containing information about a party being held at the Ministry of Magic. It also included a list of all others that were invited.
Newt’s eyes scanned the list for your name, a glimmer of hope shown inside him even though you weren’t a part of that department. Newt’s heart sank a little when he saw your name wasn’t there. But then, his eyes drifted to the bottom of the paper where it said:
You are permitted to bring a maximum of one guest with you.
It didn’t take long for him to decide who he wanted to invite. None other than you, Y/N L/N. Newt figured writing a letter to ask you out was going to be much easier than asking you in person. He sat down at his messy desk in his case and dipped his quill in the large bottle of ink and began writing his letter to you.
Once Newt finished the squiggle of the ‘R’ in on his signature, he neatly placed the note in an envelope and finished it off with a red wax seal before giving it to his messenger owl to then deliver to you.
**Time skip to your house**
You were observing the plants you kept on the windowsill of your bedroom when an owl suddenly flew over causing you to jump a little and began ‘tap tap tapping’ on the window holding a letter between its beak. You opened the window, retrieved the letter, and the owl flew off.
“I wonder if it’s more fan mail,” you whispered to yourself. You sat at your desk and tore open the letter.
Dear Miss L/N,
I believe you are familiar with me: Newt Scamander. Recently I was invited to a party at the Ministry of Magic for members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on April 26. I am allowed to bring one guest to attend with me, and I would like that guest to be you. Please note that it is perfectly fine if you decline. However, if you do wish to come, please respond to this letter as soon as you get it.
You were blushing furiously even though it was nothing more than ink on a paper. Boy, did this man have beautiful handwriting. Of course your answer was yes.
Newt Scamander! Asked ME to attend an event at the Ministry with him! You thought.
You sat down on your desk and grabbed a piece of parchment from a stack you always had handy. You quickly wrote down your response and then gave it to your owl where she flew off to give it to Newt.
Newt was full of happiness when he saw your response.
Dear Mr. Scamander,
Yes, I will gladly attend the party with you! It will be very nice to be in your company again.
Thank you ever so much,
**Time skip to the party**
Newt stood in the corner of the building to avoid the other many witches and wizards bustling about. Silver trays with fancy foods and drinks floated around to guests, but Newt turned down every one. He was too excited to see you. Never in a million years did he think you would agree to be his date.
Newt checked his pocket watch. It had been ten minutes since he had arrived, but you were still nowhere in sight.
Just a bit late, that’s all. Newt reassured himself.
Just then, Newt heard the fast-paced click-clack of heels coming from his left. He turned around to see you, breathing heavier than normal.
“So sorry I’m late. I was planning to apparate straight here ten minutes ago but I lost my wand in my garden,” you said.
Newt grinned at how cute you were. “A larger garden than most, I suppose?”
“Very,” you responded, smiling.
“Did I mention you look beautiful, Miss L/N? Thank you so much for coming with me, by the way.”
You smiled widely at Newt’s comment. “And you look quite handsome, Mr. Scamander. But please, call me Y/N.
“Of course, Y/N. Call me Newt.”
The two of you began making small talk about what had happened in your lives since you last saw each other. Newt told you about his new discoveries with his magical creatures; and you spoke about your garden and new plant hybrids you had been working on.
Eventually you decided to bring up the topic of fanfiction.
“Newt, have you ever heard of… fanfiction?” you asked cautiously.
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I’m familiar with it. Could you please tell me?”
“So… it’s basically that a lot of our fans have taken up a hobby of writing stories about the two of us and then putting them on the Internet.”
“What kind of stories?” Newt asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.
“Well…” you paused. “They’re about us… if we were… a couple.”
Newt’s eyes widened. “A couple?”
“Yeah…” you realized you had just made a huge mistake.
Or maybe not.
After a few moments, Newt reached down and took both of your hands in his. “Well… then maybe we should give the public what they want.”
His eyes moved down to look at your lips for a brief second. You realized what he was going to do.
Newt leaned in, and gently pressed his lips to yours, one hand now on your waist. You kissed back, lightly stroking his hair. It only lasted a few seconds before you both pulled away. You were in a public place, after all.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Newt said.
“Same here,” you replied.
Newt brought his arm around your waist. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more… private?”
You nodded. “Agreed.”
Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!