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This bouquet of assorted 100 premium red roses is sure to brighten the day for anyone who is lucky enough to receive it. The stunning details of each lovely bloom are impossible to resist and will bring a smile to anyone’s face. With this magnificent present, you may express your sincere thoughts to your loved ones and make them feel more special. #100redroses #bouquetdelivery #fantasticgifts (at Dubai United Arab Emirates) https://www.instagram.com/p/CYtMQx2jHwD/?utm_medium=tumblr
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prosodiical · 6 years
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Fantastic Gifts
Roundup post, because I got an embarrassment of riches ♥
I got two lovely fics in this exchange! In no particular order:
A Wizard Is Never Late (1080 words) by vaderina / @ladyoftheshrimp Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander's Magical Beasts Additional Tags: Cute, Fluff, Domestic Fluff Summary:
Just an average morning in the Graves-Scamander household.
The most domestic! The fluffiest! ♥ Just Newt & Percival & a million creatures and gdi, it's so sweet.
Unearth (1092 words) by CloveeD / @reportsduemonday Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Newt Scamander, Original Percival Graves Additional Tags: Red String of Fate, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Buried Alive, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Summary:
Newt Scamander's red string of fate pointed down at a shallow grave, and for the first time, he was almost not brave enough to dig for his life.
The angst, it's so good! ♥ A near-tragedy of a soulmate AU that ends on a happy note, I promise. Newt's voice is so lovely here.
Plus the two things I wrote:
let your heart be light (1328 words) by prosodiical Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander Additional Tags: Christmas Party, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Summary:
There's nothing particularly enjoyable about a MACUSA Christmas party, except this: Newt Scamander, face flushed and eyes bright, asking Percival to dance.
Reprieve (1145 words) by prosodiical Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Newt Scamander, Original Percival Graves Additional Tags: Skin Hunger, Comfort Sex Summary:
There's something electrifying about the way Percival reacts to Newt's touch; the way he leans into it before his conscious mind takes over and he makes himself pull away.
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katiehavok · 6 years
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Boxing Day
Here’s a little gift-fic for @deviousdiggy, pinch-hitter extraordinaire!
Thanks to @annjushkasophia for beta-reading this and helping me with a few tiny details!
*
Newt returns just before noon on Boxing day, a distinctive knock heralding his arrival.
Tina takes a moment to check her reflection, smoothing down her hair and nervously straightening her blouse before opening the door. Her beau smiles at her shyly from across the threshold, ducking his head on instinct as she reaches for his hand but offering no resistance when she tugs him into the apartment. He toes off his boots and sheds his jacket and scarf before wrapping around her in a firm hug.
“I have missed you,” he murmurs warmly, words slightly muffled by the skin on her neck.
She shivers happily before kissing the hinge of his jaw, her hands going automatically to his sun-bleached hair. “I’ve missed you, too.” Newt hums when she kisses a path across his cheek to the corner of his mouth, relishing the contact until they part with a mutual sigh. “How was Australia?”
“Hot, and dry,” Newt says while straightening to examine her face. “And much more crowded than I thought it would be. Didn’t find any Billywigs, though I did spot a few Opaleyes.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins. “It’s their mating season, so I felt it prudent to keep my distance.”
He touches her cheek when she laughs, only to squeeze her hand as she pulls him into the kitchen and admonishes him to sit.
She serves them brisket, cabbage, and fried potatoes for lunch. Newt murmurs his thanks before tucking in, the domestic sounds of eating filling the kitchen. He offers to clean-up when they’ve finished and Tina uses that opportunity to steal into the bedroom to retrieve his gift, nervously fingering the spangled blue-and-silver paper.
She returns to the living room to find he’s lit the hearth, a warm and cheerful glow filling the room. There’s a bulky package just beside him on the couch, plain brown paper wrapped in red, silver, and green ribbon. He shifts it into his lap before patting the space, his hopeful expression imploring her to sit.
They exchange gifts with nervous but pleased smiles. “I’ve never really celebrated Christmas,” Tina explains as he examines her wrapping paper, fine-boned fingers lightly dusting the stripes and Menorahs.
Newt’s eyes dance at her when he bashfully shakes his head. “Well, I’ve never really celebrated Hanukkah, so in that, we’re even.” He plucks at the silver bow before leaning in to kiss her forehead, the contact immediately soothing her nerves. “I truly wasn’t expecting anything. Thank you, Tina.”
Tina ducks her head to hide her smile until her curiosity gets the better of her, making quick work of the heavy paper and ribbons. Familiar colors catch her eye, and she laughs delightedly when she reveals that his gift to her is a lightweight Angora sweater in contrasting dove grey and navy stripes—her favorite colors.
“I hope you like it,” Newt says when she can only stroke the fine wool in delight. “I spent most of the crossing working on it, though it was your sister who gave me the idea.” He shifts to catch her eye, wearing a crooked smile. “I never was very good at domestic spells so I had to resort to knitting it by hand. I didn’t think it appropriate to give you a jumper with lopsided stripes or dropped stitches.” He touches the hem, careful not to catch the delicate fibers on his callouses. “I’ve also woven warming charms throughout, so you’ll never be too hot or too cold when you put it on, only the perfect temperature.”
“I don’t just like it, I love it,” Tina says honestly, and stands to pull the sweater over her head, relishing in its warmth and softness before dropping beside him to kiss his freckled cheek. “Thank you, Newt, it’s perfect.”
Newt flushes a fetching shade of pink when he looks away, restless fingers tearing into his gift. He gasps when he holds up a journal bound in pebbly blue leather and a matching pen, admiring the mother-of-pearl inlay and the fine vellum paper before tackling her in a bone-crushing hug.
“It’s exactly what I needed!” Newt says into her hair before voicing a delighted laugh. “My other journal suffered, um, a bit of a mishap with a sea serpent on the way over, and I had intended to purchase a new one tomorrow but this—Tina, this is magnificent. Thank you, darling.”
Tina squeezes him before reaching for the journal. “You’ll never run out of pages,” she explains while fingering the distinctive monogram on the corner. “I wasn’t sure if you use pens or quills in the field so I made this one special for you. You just fill it up with ink once and you’ll never run out because it’s got a replicating charm on it.”
Newt flips through the pages before laying his gift aside to pull her into his arms. “You wonderful witch, you,” he murmurs and spreads his hands over the small of her back, toying with the soft wool of her sweater. “I love you, and I’m so very glad to be here.”
Tina touches his cheek to guide him in for another kiss, this one deeper and longer before allowing him to press her into the cushions. “I love you too, but we still have Queenie and Jacob coming for dinner,” she reminds him when he presses kisses the length of her throat, pinching her eyes shut as his hands travel lightly over her body, gently reacquainting himself with her curves.
“What time will they be here?” Newt asks, his throaty voice muffled by the gentle curve of her stomach.
“Um—six, I think,” Tina manages, her mind going blank when he pushes aside her blouse and sweater to kiss just above her navel, shivering at the press of his lips.
Newt smiles up at her from beneath his ragged fringe before standing to take her hand. He helps Tina to her feet before folding her into his arms, his lips molding to the curve of her cheek. “Plenty of time, then,” he breathes into her skin, and Tina laughs her delighted agreement while steering them toward the bedroom.
*
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ravens-and-writings · 6 years
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Chance (noun): 1. the unknown and unpredictable element that causes an event to result in a certain way rather than another, spoken of as a real force 2. fortune; luck; fate 3. an opportunity or occasion
It was the only word fit to describe the discoveries Newt and Tina made in October of 1930... and the unexpected developments those resulted in. 
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!
I present to you my contribution to the newly revealed Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa Collection by @fantasticgifts. This one was written as a gift for @njckle, who asked for some Newtina and Newt interacting with his beasts. I hope you enjoy it!
Everyone else is welcome to read this little something, too, of course.
Enjoy your holidays!
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njcklenjart · 6 years
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A small interaction between the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Scamander.
My fic for the Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa Collection by @fantasticgifts. This is for @porcupinegoldstein, who asked for some domestic newtina. 
Reviews and reblogs are appreciated! Happy Holidays, guys.
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praptijagma1234 · 3 years
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Fantastic Emoji Gift Ideas for 2020
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jaskiersbard · 6 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski Characters: Queenie Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski Additional Tags: Oblivious, Obliviousness, Secret Santa, Fluff, Baking, Memory Loss, Romance, Sweet Summary:
Jacob wonders why the beautiful woman in pink visits his bakery every single day.
So here’s my submission for the @fantasticgifts exchange!
I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas - or, if you don’t celebrate Christmas, you have Happy Holidays! <3 
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fantasticgifts · 6 years
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Fantastic Gifts
A secret santa gift exchange for all fan creators for the Fantastic Beasts movie(s). Signups open until Oct 29!
Rules | Schedule | Contact | Signup here!
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amagizoologistscase · 6 years
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Sandy Christmas for @fantasticgifts Secret Santa Gift Exchange.
Instead of traveling to a winter wonderland for Christmas Newt takes Tina to Egypt to explore some of the mytological creatures to be found in the sandy landscapes.
I was secret santa for @quillandsaber. Story can be found here.
Merry Christmas!
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rschanfish · 3 years
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$49. 12.07ct Baroque Fresh Water Pearl Pendant Set In Forged Sterling Silver Total Weight. This Fresh Water Pearl has a beautiful purple-red shimmer sheen. This pearl pendant is an interesting shape and very attractive. Baroque pearls are pearls with an irregular non-spherical shape. Most cultured freshwater pearls are baroque because freshwater pearls are mantle-tissue nucleated. Total size is 28 x 13 x 4 mm. Item 154162417955 on our Ebay listings. #Pearl #GrandIllusionRanch #BaroquePearl #HandForged #GreatGift #GiftForHer #PearlPendant #PearlJewelry #PearlInSilver #BestBuy #FantasticGift #FinestKind #BeautifulGem https://www.instagram.com/p/CG09qZvBu55/?igshid=5k971gsk94in
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twent323 · 4 years
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The only king 👑 of pop 🎤 3 image flip lenticular print Click on the website link in the bio to see more awesome lenticular products and gifts 🎁 📦 #twent3 #lenticularprint ##michaeljacksonphotos #thekingofpop #thekingofpopforever #imagesthatmove #lenticularimage #lenticularproducts #customisedprinting #uniquegifts #awesomegifts #fantasticgifts #fabulousgifts #giftshopping #onlinegiftshop #onlinegiftshopping #ilovemichaeljackson #ilovemj #iloveuniquephotography #giftsformen #giftsforfans #giftsforbirthday #framedphotogift #photogifts #photogiftshop #michaeljacksonfans #michaeljackson https://www.instagram.com/p/B9ZW7H9l6wo/?igshid=20xh4wuc9v6l
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katiehavok · 6 years
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I love how the entire Fantastic Beasts division of Tumblr has gone quiet
Now that the Fantastic Gifts fics have been revealed.
So many good fics, so little time to read them! Thank you @fantasticgifts for putting the exchange together, and I’m already looking forward to next year! <3
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Everyone is Wizards
Hey, the @fantasticgifts Christmas Extravaganza Collection of Fun, (as I like to call it,) has just dropped, and I’m already back at it again with the ads for my own fics. Is it unethical? Quite possibly. But who cares.
This one is called Everyone is Wizards, and it’s about the unlikely friendship between Jacob and Graves. Enjoy!
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paintingraves · 6 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander, Original Male Dog Character(s) Additional Tags: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, puppy, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, Love Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Religion, Memories, Healing, all was well, Kissing, Happy Ending, Newt gives Graves a puppy for Christmas Summary:
On Christmas Eve, 1926, Percival Graves is locked in a box. He has no room to breathe. No clothes to cover his body. Nobody to hear his prayers.
-
On Christmas day, 1928, Percival Graves wakes up in a bed. Strong arms are wrapped around his chest. He can feel the soft huffs of breath of his lover on the nape of his neck as he stirs.
It is bliss.
My assignement for the @fantasticgifts challenge ! 
@headsindreams, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it’s late (⌯˃̶᷄ ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯)゚ but it is fluffy !!!
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headsindreams · 6 years
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All You Need Is Love
My gift for Tarlan on AO3 for the @fantasticgifts Christmas exchange. Link to AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13022463.
He’s been found.
For all of Tina’s somewhat scattered ramblings in the letter Newt receives, the news that the real Percival Graves has been found is conveyed in a single, simple sentence. The unruffled façade Tina wishes to exude however, is broken by the shaky handwriting the sentence is written in, a stark contrast to the American witch’s normally neat cursive; Newt only knows this when he catches sight of the pages within Tina’s little notebook that she dutifully jots everything down in, the first time he’s in New York. He’s not as socially oblivious as people think he is, and the lack of elaboration regarding the who, what, where, when and how of Percival Graves’ rescue speaks volumes to the magizoologist. Pickett, who’s been dozing peacefully in Newt’s warm pocket, peeks at the letter and chatters animatedly to his human, who nods seriously in return. Decision made, Newt Scamander folds the letter haphazardly and stuffs it in one of his many pockets, and promptly makes arrangements to travel to New York once more. He makes sure the latches are properly closed this time, though.
It’s dark in his room; his sun-deprived eyes can’t take bright lights without giving him a migraine just yet. He’s alone, because what person would give up living their own lives to look after an invalid? Not that he’d stoop to begging. He knows his Aurors are all busy with work, and he knows that guilt is the main motivator behind their tentative visits and quiet words of “are you ok?” But it gets tiring, being treated like he’ll break at the slightest touch, and the shifting eyes of people who didn’t notice that he was being impersonated. Sure, Percival is bitter, but he’s always been very good at compartmentalising. It’s how no one noticed, after all. He rises from the bed he’s been lying in, and he’s greeted with a quiet yip and a wet nose shoved gently into his palm. There’s a smile on his face, so slight it could have been a trick of the light, and his hand finds purchase on Dante’s collar. At least his pooch hasn’t abandoned him.
The proud Greyhound is patient as he waits for his human to stand, and slowly, they make their way to the kitchen, where Percival pours some food into Dante’s bowl and magically reheats one of the many casseroles Queenie has left for him. The blonde, surprisingly, has been a constant presence in his life after he’s pulled from the hell-hole Grindelwald carelessly threw him in, and Percival appreciates her kindness, even if he only grunts whenever she trills on about how everyone misses him, and how he should eat up so he can recover his strength. His home seems a little colder when she leaves, and the only source of warmth is from the food that settles comfortably in his belly, and Percival yearns for human contact then more than ever.
Tina’s reunion with Newt is a strange one. It has none of the familiarity and camaraderie established from Newt’s first visit, and they stand awkwardly with half smiles and mumbled words, until they settle on a firm handshake before leaving for the Goldsteins’ apartment, where Newt finds himself staying once more, sans the cheery Jacob Kowalski. Newt reminds himself to make a stop by the man’s bakery; Queenie tells him, in the dreamiest of voices, of how the talented Jacob has turned Newt’s creatures into edible pastries. The trio stay till the stars have faded back into the lightening sky, and Newt learns of a man whose proud countenance has been diminished to haunted, unsettling stares and quiet whispers, and the Aurors wear a heavy veil of guilt every single day they look to the empty office that once belonged to Percival Graves. Queenie is furious; Picquery’s thoughts have been loud with the notion of replacing Percival, of everyone else’s desire to throw him to the wolves and sit comfortably in their high chairs, surrounded by their arrogantly impeccable moral codes. Tina’s only reaction to take a shudder of a breath that reminds Newt of the rattling of Dementors’, and the effects are not dissimilar as any joy at the friends’ reunion seep out like crawling vines of despair. As their untouched hot cocoas turn cold, Tina rises from the table, and the creaking sound of chairs scrapping the wooden floor breaks any semblance of peace that has settled over them.
Percival hears Dante’s growl before three dainty knocks sounded throughout his home. The first to enter is Queenie, from whom Dante eagerly seeks treats (she sneaks him some biscuits and Percival thinks she’s spoilt his dog rotten), followed by her dark eyed sister who is wringing her hands nervously, and a tall gentleman who walks with a strange, loping gait and who sports a dusty blue coat. His hair is a ginger mop of mess, and there’s a dusting of freckles on his pale cheeks, and even as Percival’s training kicks in and tells him other details about the stranger before him, Percival notices only that the gentleman’s eyes are a blue that draws him in, like the hearth fire of home, and all at once, his lonely apartment doesn’t seem so devoid of life anymore.
He rises, awkwardly stumbling before righting himself with Dante’s help, and pretends not to notice the way Tina nearly lunges forward to help him, or the way Queenie holds her back because she knows Percival would like to keep his dignity. The grasp of the stranger’s hand on his is warm and enveloping, and there’s a faint ringing sound in Percival’s ears when Newt Scamander lets go, and he finds himself returning Newt’s lopsided grin with a half-smile of his own, and the feeling of his lips twitching upwards is a foreign sensation, but he thinks that maybe he could get used to smiling again soon. The former director ignores the little giggle coming from Queenie’s direction, and ever the good host, offers his guests some tea. The reason for Queenie’s glee becomes somewhat apparent as she makes hasty excuses for herself and Tina, who is as confused as Newt as to why they must suddenly depart from Percival’s apartment, without Newt. The sisters leave, bickering quietly about laundry and chores –Tina insists that they’ve finished all the chore for the day, while Queenie frantically shushes her straight-as-an-arrow sister, and the apartment suddenly becomes all too quiet as Newt and Percival are left staring at one another. Tea, Percival remembers, and limps slowly into the kitchen, and Newt follows the soft footsteps of his host and the soft clicking of Dante’s toenails on the wooden floor. New York really is fascinating.
Their conversation is one plagued with frequent long pauses and stuttered words from a man who hasn’t spoken in months, and a man who’s more comfortable communicating non-verbally with his creatures. It is a painfully awkward scenario, as Percival tries to get to know his guest more, while Newt tries to recall social cues and ask questions that aren’t too invasive to the newly freed man. The ice breaks however, when Dante catches Pickett’s scent from Newt’s pocket, and the little Bowtruckle surprises his human by boldly climbing onto the dog’s nose and sitting there. Both creatures take in the other seriously, until Dante lets out a little whine and gently settles down by Percival’s feet, mindful of the leafy little thing on its snout. Newt, desperate to fill the void of silence, begins talking about his creatures, and as usual, loses himself in the much-loved topic. Unlike other people, who often interrupt him to change the subject or simply don’t pay attention, Percival appears interested, leaning forward and listening intently to Newt’s many tales and his aspirations of making the wizarding world a safer place for all magical creatures. The dark haired man notes Newt’s obvious passion for his creatures, in the way a light flush appears on his face, how Newt’s bright green eyes light up with a spark that warms the kitchen, and he is mesmerised by Newt’s hands, waving animatedly in the air as he weaves story after story after story of the most exotic of creatures Percival has never heard before. They spend hours like that, Newt regaling Percival with tales of dragons from China, of the hippogriffs Newt’s mother breeds, of Frank the Thunderbird who has hopefully found his way to Arizona, of dangerous little buggers like the Kappa and Red Caps, of the genteel nature of Mooncalves (Newt promises to let Percival visit his suitcase as soon as possible) and Percival wonders if this is how Scheherazade coaxes the King into love, by wondrous tales told in a voice far alluring than the sirens.
Newt returns the next day, and the next, and the next, and when Percival’s legs have strengthened enough to go down the stairs of the enchanted suitcase and back up, he is introduced to Newt’s creatures. His first introduction is the soft feeling of a Mooncalf’s downy head against his hand, and instinctively, he rubs the little one’s head much as he would Dante’s, and is delighted to have elicited an ecstatic squeal from the Mooncalf, who immediately calls out to the rest of the nearby herd, who have been watching warily at this stranger. Newt is about to call out a warning before the herd descends on the surprised Percival, knocking him to the ground as they nicker and whinny happily all over him, begging for pets and rubs and snuggles. There’s a joyous laugh in the air, and Newt has a large grin on his face to realise that it’s Percival’s laugh, and to know that the man is still capable of happiness drives Newt to wantto make him smile and laugh all the more.
Dougal comes next, ambling cautiously over. His nostrils flare as he takes in Percival’s scent, and the man reaches out a hand to the Demiguise. Percival is surprised at the warmth of Dougal’s hand in his, and he’s amused to find himself tugged along to meet the other creatures. He turns back to Newt, to see if he’s following them when he sees the wistful look on Newt’s face. Framed in the artificial sunlight in the enclosure, with his red hair wild and fluttering in the wind, Percival thinks Newt could pass off as an angel, and the words are on the cusp of slipping from him when he hears Dougal chattering angrily at something that looks like a platypus, and is…stuffing his pocket watch into its pouch. Disbelieving, Percival searches his pockets and come up empty, while Newt groans exasperatedly and grabs the infernal Niffler by its webbed paws. The creature is turned upside down as Newt tickles its belly, and Percival is baffled to see a mountain pile of shiny objects, including his pocket watch, fall from the seemingly tiny pouch of the creature, whom Newt is sternly reprimanding. The Niffler has its little arms crossed, and looks exceedingly displeased with a pout on its beak (Percival isn’t sure how that is possible), but is placated when Newt allows it to keep the rest of the treasure, sans Percival’s watch. The latter feels hysterical laughter bubble in his throat at the sight of the creature waddling back to its nest, all the while stuffing its treasure back into its pouch. Newt only offers him a shrug, as if saying what can you do?
Newt introduces the rest of the creatures to Percival, including the ferocious Nundu that Newt has named Sally. Percival thinks Newt has a penchant for giving his creatures charming names, and tells him so, and Percival’s gratified when the younger man blushes at the unconventional compliment. The blush intensifies when Percival tells him that he looks rather fetching when he blushes. They fall silent, like children confessing their love on a school playground, and when Percival takes the tentative hand Newt offers to him, he’s rewarded with the most brilliant of smiles that draws yet another smile from him. There’s a voice in Percival’s head that sounds suspiciously like Queenie, who’s giggling and telling him to give Newt a kiss. The old Percival would have brushed the notion off and not let a word of affection slip through his lips. The old Percival, he decides, is a grumpy man far too old for his age, and that it’s time for change. The new Percival would give Newt Scamander the most delicious of kisses, with the promises of more. And so, Newt finds his face enclosed in the calloused palms of Percival Graves, with a heated kiss that sears straight into his soul planted on his lips. There are no fireworks or the instant knowledge that Percival is his soul mate, nor does his world burst into colour and song, as the stories go. But there is a quiet contentment within him that tells him this is right, that this is home, and that’s okay, because neither Newt nor Percival need a love that is intense and explosive and everything they’re not.
The sun sets in the enclosure, and both men walk slowly back to the stairway leading out, back into the real world. And for the first time since his rescue, Percival doesn’t mind the thought of another day of pitying glances or whispers of his replacement, or the fact that his leg hurts when it’s cold, and there are grey strands in his hair where there were none before. The warmth that is Newt’s hand in his can see him through tomorrow, and when Newt tells him, in a low voice that sends a delicious thrill through his tired body, that he’ll visit Percival again the next day, Percival thinks he’ll be all right.
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funkzpiel · 6 years
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↳ In the Cold and the Snow I finally finished my piece for the @fantasticgifts event (late... but better late than never right? lol)
“Bloody winter,” he cursed, wiping the water from his eyes, only to still at the sight that finally cleared before him. It was Percival, only he wasn’t standing anymore. Instead the man was face down in the snow that had blanketed the parking lot, still and silent. Wind tugged at the hem of his coat and the shortness of his hair, flecking him with white, and still he did not stir.
Theseus felt his heart drop into his belly.
“Graves!” He shouted, feet skidding unsteadily on the slickness of the lot for a moment before finally gaining enough traction to move. He slid to a stop and crashed to his knees beside his friend. There was blood on the snow - more than there should be - but the rational side of his brain reminded him that head wounds bled more. It was easy enough to find the small gash in Graves’ brow, easier still to dismiss it as minor and deem moving him agreeable. So he gently shifted the smaller detective into a rescue position and dipped his fingers beneath the sharp stubble of his jaw to find his pulse.
He heaved a huge gust of relief when Graves suddenly groaned and opened his eyes, lashes fluttering against the flurries steadily falling onto them. He flinched, one hand straying to the cut on his brow, and Theseus quickly stopped him.
“You fell,” he said, soft as not to hurt the man’s head just in case sound made anything worse. “But that’s not all, is it? How bad, Graves?”
The other detective licked his lip, but couldn’t meet his eyes.
“It’s not that ba--”
“How. Bad.”
Graves grimaced.
“I passed out, Theseus. I think that sums it up pretty well.”
[read more]
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