#theseus has two hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oncasette · 1 year ago

Note

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

ok theseus request!!!!! what about some hurt/comfort, maybe him reacting to you crying? + [ CUP ]: bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face. (I feel like this prompt fits the scenario perfectly so yeah <3)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦��𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

summary: 1.7k

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat.

or the three times theseus asked you to move in with him and the one time you asked.

warnings: implied smut

masterlist | taglist

Moving in with Theseus hadn’t been your idea. It’d been his. Totally, completely, and unarguably his idea. One he’d spent weeks, at this point, convincing you to go through with. An idea you’d initially been so adamant about turning down. But he was nothing if not persistent.

He’d presented you with a key the first night he’d asked. Just a key, warm from where he’d kept it in his coat pocket pressed tight against his chest over the course of his work day. He’d dug it out of the jacket that had been hastily tossed off to the floor near the side of the bed when you’d nearly jumped his bones after he’d apparated back to his flat. You’d already been home–his home, that is–snuggled up in his bed with a cup of tea and a sleep shirt he’d had since his seventh year.

“What’s this?” you asked as he’d handed it to you. His hands shook, and he’d been grateful you failed to make a comment on it.

“A key,” he hummed as you took it.

“But… Thes, I already have a key to your place?” Your eyebrows knitted across your forehead as your statement quirked into a question.

“I know,” he said. “My lease comes up in a month and I…”

You brought a hand up to the side of his jaw, urging him to continue as his lips pressed kisses to your palm.

“I know yours does, too. A week after mine, but I was hoping you’d think about letting it.”

It’s a wonder it hadn’t clicked for you yet. His beautiful, bright girl that amazed him every day, who was making him spell out this question for her, letter by letter, while his heart threatened to give out in his chest.

“Letting it do what?” you asked.

“Run out,” he exhaled. Merlin, his lungs felt heavy.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you asked, hand dropping to your side as you sat up fully. You brought the top sheet with you, covering the skin Theseus had spent the last hour and a half marking with his teeth. His eyes burned as he followed your movement and leaned his back against the headboard.

“I’d been trying to, yes,” he said.

“Don’t you think it’s a little… I don’t know,” you swallowed, throat dry with a lack of an answer. “Fast?”

“Love, we’ve been together for nearly two years. I thought–”

He’d been cut off with your legs being thrown over the edge of the bed, feet scrambling to hold your body up as your hands reached for the clothes you’d been wearing earlier in the evening.

“I can’t.” With your eyes screwed shut, you tugged your slip back up over your body and crossed the room to grab the shirt you’d come to his flat in–not the one of his you’d been wearing when he’d come home, a sight that has his jaw aching. It’d taken you a minute longer to find your wand, white knuckling it as you pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s hairline. You were gone within the minute, with the key left at the foot of the bed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to move from the spot you’d left him in.

He’d left it alone enough after that, though his heart had ached each time his hand passed over the weight of the key he still kept in his pocket.

The second time he’d asked–more insinuated, this time–had been at breakfast two weeks later, thankfully, in a less vulnerable state of dress.

“I saw the flat yesterday,” he said, though his eyebrows were raised with the hint that there was more lingering under that statement than you’d wanted. “Unfurnished, that is. I saw it a couple weeks ago when I bought it and everything, but I saw it for the first time since I’d signed the lease on it yesterday.”

“Theseus.”

“Look, I know. I know.” He drew his fist tight as he inhaled. “I know you think it’s too fast, darling.”

“Then why are you doing this?” you asked.

You weren’t even sure why you were fighting it this hard at this point anymore. It was all you’d thought about since he’d asked the first time. And you weren’t going to lie, you’d warmed to the idea. Not that you were ready to admit that, apparently.

He brought your hand up to gently lay kisses on your knuckles. “Just come see it with me, yeah?”

You offered him a pointed look. “Don’t have to make any snap decisions,” he assured you. “Even though I’m desperately hoping that you will.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go look at the flat with you,” you said.

He’d been so eager, the smile he’d given you had been enough to allow him to convince you to stop by the next morning.

It was a lovely flat, honestly. It had a kitchen large enough to house an island, a bedroom much bigger than you’d been anticipating, and a view that had you fully leaning out the window to get a better look at. And, it was a five minute walk away from your office. A fact Theseus had mentioned thirty seconds into your initial walkthrough. A walkthrough that had unsurprisingly consisted of all the reasons Theseus had picked the place. Or, better worded, all the reasons Theseus thought the place would be a perfect fit for you. For the both of you.

“The living room’s the perfect size for your couch, you know. I was thinking you’d want to bring it along if you ever ended up here since you spent so long picking it out and everything…”

“Thes, it’s beautiful. It really is,” you said, stepping closer to him as you watched the corners of his lips twitch into a grin.

He fully bridged the gap then, hands falling to your hips to tug you into his chest. “So?”

“I’ll think about it,” you hummed and he leaned down to kiss you fully.

“Improvement,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

The next couple days had been a constant barrage of dropped hints. It felt like you’d been suffocated beneath the weight of the question, one that hadn’t been asked in its entirety since that first night.

He’d been halfway through one of his… less subtle hints when you snapped. All you’d wanted was time. A bit of time. A tiny, miniature, speck of time to organize your thoughts, and he’d given you just short of what you’d needed.

The key had been dangling from his fingers, for Merlin’s sake, and it took all the strength in your body not to snatch it out of his hands and throw it out the window of your own flat, the one the two of you were currently curled up in.

“Stop it!” you spat. “I said I would think about it, right. I can’t think about anything with the way you’re keeping this up.”

He stalled, fingers wrapping around the gold key to hide it from view. His jaw snapped closed as your own clenched.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you sighed.

“No, I get it. I’ll give you some more time,” he said, a crack of thunder in the distance rumbling overhead as you watched him pull away from you to gather the few belongings he’d brought with him.

He left with little more than a muttered goodbye as he slipped out the door. Not even a kiss, one you’d been hopeful enough to think would come despite your current situation.

You knock on the door with feeble fingers, toes curling in your shoes as your socks meld to the skin of your feet. You wait a minute. Two minutes, nearly three before he throws open the door with only a pair of trousers on.

“What are you-” he cuts himself off. “My love, are you crying?”

You barely manage out a shake of your head, a piss poor attempt at a lie, as a shiver rumbles through your torso.

“Come here, come inside,” he steps aside enough to let you in. He shuts the door once you’re inside, immediately tugging you into his chest where the warmth of his skin does wonders to calm the tremors wracking through you. Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks, drawing your face into his direct gaze no matter how much you want to shove your nose into his neck and hide from his worrying eyes.

“What is it, darling?” His eyes scan your face as his hands hold the weight of your head up under your jaw. His thumb clears a tear off your cheek before it has the chance to fall. “C’mon, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please let me live with you,” you sniffle, hands coming up to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The way you’re clinging to him feels desperate, like he’d slip away if you managed to let go.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry I let it go on this long. I’m sorry I ever made you think I don’t want this, want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you sob. “Please let me live with you.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I thought I did, too,” you hiccup, and Theseus has to fight to hide the smile that’s working its way up his face. “But, then I realized what I really wanted was you. This. All of you.”

“You have me. You’ve always had me darling, promise,” he says. “And obviously I want you to live with me… but are you sure?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, lovely. You’ve kind of been fighting me on this since day one,” he says. “I’m sure,” you say.

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #harry potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them #r's 2.5k #callum turner #callum turner x reader

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lacollectionneuse1967 · 11 months ago

Text

remembering you - part 2

Theseus Scamander x Reader

summary: the truth of your and theseus's shared past comes to light at a very public venue.

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: romance.

warnings: brief but GRAPHIC descriptions of gore (war flashback).

part one / part two

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that wasn’t expected of me.” The curse of the good son. The thought comes to Theseus unbidden.

Even joining the magical resistance at the beginning of the war felt like some preordained line of reasoning that he only had to follow.

He’d vowed to his parents that he’d always do what’s right for his community. He’d been asked to help, so he did. In all realms of life, he tried to be helpful and do what was asked of him.

He didn’t have to think about it.

But then: You.

Y/N swept into his life and spun his head around, turned his whole belief system upside down. He can only think of one other girl who struck him so profoundly, reached inside his chest and tugged him back into his body and the present moment, but that was years ago, and their encounter had been so brief…

The principles by which Theseus lived his life were simple ones.

Restraint. Generosity. Order.

All dashed to pieces with the touch of your lips. When you'd asked him to kiss you his only thought had been "Mercy." He’d started undressing you by instinct. He’d taken you on his desk, it seems more like an unwieldy fantasy than a memory.

He’s at home now. Dumbstruck at his kitchen table, glass of whiskey untouched.

He has the strangest desire to call his brother.

Newt, of all people! But he was probably galavanting around the world looking for Wrackspurts or trying to teach a Doxy to play fetch. They hadn’t spoken in so long, and Theseus had been negligent when it came to showing interest in his brother’s work besides that. He couldn't call on him now.

Theseus just needs someone to tell him what to do.

He doesn’t know what happened in his office. He just wanted to put his hands on you and then, once he did, he started burning up inside and couldn’t stop.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N….

Your name was like a drumbeat driving him to insanity. A trance-inducing chant.

“What’s become of me?” he thinks, helplessly, head in his hands. “I’ve gone mad.”

He was supposed to marry well, unfussily and unremarkably. Find a respectable woman from a good wizarding family after building up his reputation as an Auror. He’d never touched a woman the way he'd touched you, so brazenly, so honestly, so entirely overcome with desire.

He’d never thought much of love.

Even before today, he’d been distracted at work. Powerless, really. Writing to you occupied his every thought. Even when you took a little longer to respond, what he felt wasn’t impatience but agony. He hung onto your every word. His default daydream had become storming down to the Department of Magical Games and Sports and standing before you, making you see him, he loved you and he wanted you to deal with it too.

“Tomorrow,” he thinks and it eases some of the tension. He blows out the candle floating above his kitchen table and gives up on the whiskey, snatching the glass and pouring it down the drain.

Tomorrow he’s decided to tell you that he needs you, that he loves you, although he’s not sure what it means yet. Maybe that will help him clear his head, silence that roaring need. Confessing to you will be like letting blood.

Yesterday your beauty had taken him by surprise, discomposed him, yes. But he reminds himself that he knows you. From your letters.

He loved you then too.

And, aside from his feelings, he doubts there are any real secrets now between you.

-----------------

You want to ask Theseus if he dreams about the war too.

You wonder how many people in Britain return there, to that same reeking, muddied place lit-up with gunfire, in their dreams every night. You wonder if you could meet him there.

But no, Theseus wasn't in the trenches. He wouldn't know about how the mud is different there. Evil. Cursed. You'd long given up on trying to describe it to your sister, make her understand.

No wizards, not even those a part of the underground resistance, were in the trenches.

Your powers were wasted down there, how silly and indulgent magic seemed with people dying everywhere, dying badly, with less dignity and honor than stray dogs.

You remember trying to use magic wherever you could anyways. You remember your hands and your medical knowledge being, shockingly, more useful. When a man's limbs are shattered in opposite directions, when a man's face has been shot off, when a man is bleeding out, when a man....

You remember that first night, after Theseus and your family had left you, the numb-shock of seeing a man's brains for the first time. The sensation that came over you was less startling and more like paralysis or ice water. They were grey and had splattered onto your face and the ground before you. The men shoved his body over the top of the trench, throwing him at you to save him, not realizing he had a hole in his head. You stared at the soft, grey chunks on the floor and your mind unfeelingly conjured up images from the kitchen: chicken hearts, boiled ground meats, uncooked egg whites. It was so random you'd almost laughed.

War made the grotesque banal.

And all for what? That pointless tract of wasteland. Bodies at various states of decay, laid out like a rotting carpet.

You wonder what Theseus did to get called a war hero, you didn't think there were any heroes in the Great War. To you it was a tragedy of gross political malpractice.

They made a grave of your home in France. You couldn't have returned there, not ever.

You only ever went back there in dreams, where you couldn't seem to remember that the war was over.

It made you feel guilty in a distant, half-realized way, how you never wanted to talk about it or think about it in your waking life. When your siblings wrote down your name in a tribute to the combat nurses at last year's Armistice Day, you'd been blind with rage. Inconsolable with a nameless, blooming betrayal. "Nameless" because you couldn't say what they had betrayed.

Which is why this year's Armistice Day, today, you'd resolved to avoid all grief celebrations and talk of glory and war and to think only of the future. Of happy things. Of Theseus.

Theseus.

Yesterday you'd slept with him.

You'd actually taken him into your arms and body and then just let him take and take and take. You'd only asked for a kiss, but you'd found yourself unable to say anything but yes and please to him.

This fact made you blush the whole way home. Made you unfold his "goodnight" message from days before and read it again and again just to see the ink of his writing on paper, just to prove that what existed between the two of you was real.

At work yesterday he'd kept writing to you, just like he promised. Afterward, at the end of the day, he came to your desk and walked you to the Atrium, kept his hands in his pockets and looked at you fondly when you spoke, with an attention like sweetness. He was a gentleman--what happened in his office aside--indisputably so. You'd felt good and safe by his side. Like you belonged there.

Until you got home.

It was your mistake to open up to your sister. It didn't help that she kept saying that she couldn't believe you, that she'd kill him, that "it's all so unromantic."

You spared her the details, but you wanted to just blurt out and admit that it was the both of you begging for the other at intervals.

He'd gotten down on his knees, for crying out loud! He didn't coerce you into anything. All he coerced were inappropriate noises from your mouth, but, no, you couldn't tell your sister that...

Your argument continues in the morning, picks up where it left off right after breakfast.

"I just feel like you gave up more than you bargained for, Y/N. Because you like him so much you're more at risk of-"

"I didn't 'give up' anything! God, I can't believe you."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's fine, really!" You're grabbing your keys and shoving them into your purse with force, pointedly not fine. "For the record, he was the one who said he liked me. And I was the one who asked him to kiss me, again! I'm not a child. The only thing I'm at risk of is finally getting what I want."

Your sister cries easily, famously. You can see it mounting now in the tremble of her lip. It almost topples over into a sob when she whines, "I love you Y/N! I don't want you to get hurt."

"He likes me! He's my friend. We've been talking for weeks."

"What if he..." your sister hesitates and for some reason it humiliates you, her censoring herself for the sake of your feelings.

Your shoulders go rigid.

"What?" you snap. "What if he what?"

She shakes her head but when you don't relent she speaks grudgingly.

"What if he does this a lot? Casual sex. Spontaneously sleeping with women. Maybe even coworkers. I just want to be sure you're on the same page, Y/N. He means so much to you, I know that, and he always has. But he doesn't even remember you...."

Sick. You feel a swaying illness in your chest and gut. For a moment you taste bile.

Her words hurt so bad that you don't even feel pain, the fight in you just dies instantaneously.

He doesn't even remember you...

"Okay," you say, staring blankly at her. "Okay..."

"Y/N-" your sister stands from her chair suddenly, but you jerk away from her.

"It's fine. Theseus can do what he pleases. Thank you for your concern, but I don't want to talk about it anymore."

You leave for work.

------

The chaos at the Ministry mirrors the chaos in your head, which isn't any real consolation.

Whizzing baubles and streaming banners are still being put up in the Atrium, the center of which lies a hulking, rectangular platform, scattered hauntingly with red poppies. It sort of reminds you of gallows, though you doubt anyone else would appreciate the humor in your observation.

The Ministry always did some sort of luncheon or memorial for Armistice Day.

Speeches, honors, sometimes a little parade, sometimes, conversely, observing four minutes of silence. The thought of being asked to go on stage horrified you more than the Western Front had.

As you walk to your desk, you think about Theseus again. You think about the war. Both inevitable, given the circumstances.

You think about the service he rendered your father and your siblings that night. You think about the chivalry he demonstrated in letting you hold onto your girlhood for a bit longer, his hand framing your face as he left it untouched and denied you a kiss.

You think about him letting you stay for the Battle of Verdun, and how it never made sense to you and it still doesn't now...

You have to know.

"I'll tell him," you think. "I'll tell him today."

------

There's a memo waiting for you at your desk. It makes your heart patter in gross relief.

"He likes me. He likes me," you remind yourself.

Your sister's words this morning must've really gotten to you.

"Urgent matter for the Interdepartmental Liaison of the Department of Mysteries!!!"

You roll your eyes. You're smiling stupidly at the paper as you write your response.

"Theseus, you can't keep writing 'URGENT' at the beginning of all of your memos. It's cryptic and dishonest and it loses its intended effect."

"Okay, fine. I was just going to ask if it would be terribly uncouth if I asked you to meet me in my office before the memorial so I could kiss you a bit?"

The thought of him putting his hands on you affects you more than you'd ever admit. You look around the office, blushing, as if anyone could read the paper from so far away. This man was driving you insane.

"Well, that's one way to honor the troops. You are a veteran so I suppose there's no turning you down."

You want to see him, you do. But you have a mission today from your Department. It couldn't wait and he couldn't know.

You're hoping to use the Armistice Day events to talk to Mr. Bragg, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, or maybe sneak into his office. Too much time has elapsed already, you need to find out whether or not he is really betraying the Ministry for Grindelwald.

Theseus's reply is surprisingly earnest.

"Huh, I always thought today was more about honoring the fallen than honoring the veterans."

"True. Maybe no kissing until it's over?"

"Deal. I'll see if I can write you into my schedule."

"Not funny."

"If you want to see me so bad you could always commit a crime and I'll come arrest you?"

"Hey, you're the one who asked to see me!! And threatening me with a good time is beneath you."

You see a lone blot of ink fade-in from where his quill is pressed down onto the paper on his end. He's trying to decide what to write.

When the words come at last they are so simple and candid and enticing. Theseus has never been afraid of honesty or affection.

"I like you so much."

You laugh aloud. If he was here you'd kiss him breathless.

"Yes, you said that already."

"Forget the kiss, I'd kill even to hear your laugh in person. To see your face."

"I like you so much too."

-----

You're the last person from your level to make your way down to the Atrium for the Armistice ceremony. The noise from below sounds more like a motorcade than a memorial. Honking trumpets, trilling drumroll, applause. Funnily enough, you think your coworker Ana is the one speaking now, snatched the microphone from the Minister of Magic himself.

In fact, by the looks of it, you might've missed some of the ceremony already.

The Atrium is packed with people. Ministry workers brought their spouses, some their entire families. Well-dressed witches and wizards not affiliated with the Ministry have also come in droves.

You scoot along the edge of the room, moving sideways towards the stage, craning your neck to find Mr. Bragg.

The periodic sound of applause crashes down like heavy rainfall, the way it drowns everything out. It's a bit stuffy from all the body heat, and your clothes cling to your body uncomfortably.

As you approach the stage, you stop pushing forward and look up in shock to see Theseus's face. He doesn't see you, and you're glad for the chance to just look at him outright. God knows you could look at him forever.

He's waltzing down the steps of the platform smiling broadly. His gait is relaxed, he's comfortable in his skin despite the attention of being on stage, which is something you envy. There's a ribbon on his lapel and a red flower stuck in his suit pocket, a few men and women are trailing behind him.

They must have just honored the wizards who fought.

Next would presumably be some ceremony for the Ministry workers to honor their dead. Last year they'd done a magical memorial with floating lanterns. This year you'd been told it would involve stones, or maybe it was flowers? You didn't want to stick around.

It was painful enough carrying your losses inside of you, seeing loss and grief paraded and exploded all around you didn't feel therapeutic or healing for you the way it seemed to feel for the rest of the nation.

"Y/N!"

You turn without grace, neck jerking painfully. The sight of Mr. Bragg's face startles you, makes you feel found out. It's difficult for you to rein in your surprise. You have to shout over the sound of Ana talking onstage.

"M-Mr. Bragg!"

The older man smiles. He's with his department friends and his cheeks are rosy. Drunk, maybe. They're holding the flask between them like schoolboys, drawing more attention to it really.

It seems disrespectful to you. Most Ministry workers waited until after the memorial ceremony to start celebrating the end of the war and drinking to "peace."

But Mr. Bragg and his colleagues look positively jubilant.

"My girl! I was just telling these gentlemen how we have a real Unspeakable in our midsts now! Tell them how good the Department of Magical Games and Sports has been treating you, why don't you? Better than the Department of Mysteries, eh?"

The men he's with laugh and jostle him, they're about to turn back to the stage.

You're still reeling, sputtering from surprise, but you have to spit it out now, take your chance.

"Mr. Bragg! Wait!"

His colleagues' eyes go wide in delight, one of them looks as if he's about to bark an inappropriate comment. Mr. Bragg looks taken aback at your newfound attention.

It was nearly 1930 and some of the men in the Ministry still had such backward ideas about women, even coworkers, it took everything in you not to roll your eyes.

"Yes, darling?" Mr. Bragg's answering smile is eager and smug. Self-satisfied.

Gag.

"Um, I was hoping to talk to you in your office after the ceremony? About my position as liaison." He looks suddenly bored, turned off, so you give him your most flattering smile and add, coyly, "Alone. If you're not too busy, that is?"

That seems to gratify him. He adjusts his jacket impressively in front of his colleagues. One of them wriggles his brow indiscreetly and nudges him.

"Of course, Miss Y/L/N! It's about time you and I had a good talk, one on one."

Again, gag.

You smile, and it's a strain to, before bowing your head in thanks and moving on.

Well, at least that was settled. You could drill him with questions after the ceremony and, during the ceremony, you could poke around in his office for evidence of betrayal. It was perfect.

Too perfect.

It was your mistake for lingering near the stage. For coming at all, really.

It sends a jolt of liquid panic down your spine when you hear your name, magically amplified for the whole crowd to hear. It booms throughout the entire Atrium. It's bizarre to the point of feeling dreamlike.

"Oh, and is that Y/N? Miss Y/L/N! Please join us on stage! Everyone, how can we forget to honor our wartime nurses?"

This isn't real. If the crowd hadn't parted to stare at you after all of Ana's pointing, you would've continued walking away.

A man jumps off-stage to escort you to the staircase.

You're past the point of being able to speak or object.

Once onstage you stare out at the crowd unseeingly. The tops of so many heads. You'd rather be at the summit of some great height, looking out at some cloudscape. Your fear of heights seemed healthy, whereas your stage fright was a simultaneously useless and formidable thing.

You regret befriending Ana. You regret telling her about the war, telling her anything about yourself at all.

You are sweating.

And, impossibly, Ana is still talking.

"-and at only sixteen years old! As a volunteer wartime nurse, Y/N Y/L/N stayed for the entire ten months of brutal fighting at the Battle of Verdun in Northern France. 300,000 dead and 400,000 wounded. She saved countless lives, muggle and wizardkind alike, indiscriminately. These combat nurses were the foundation of-"

Her last commendation draws some uncomfortable shifting and impressed gasps from the crowd. It's a mixed reaction, as views of blood purity were equally mixed.

Ana, in an asinine but expected turn of events, is still talking.

But you're no longer listening. You can't.

There are so many people in the crowd, but your gaze locks on Theseus almost immediately. You see his expression change in realization, his eyes widen and his jaw flexes, almost undetectably.

When he tears his gaze from Ana to you, you turn away.

He knows. Even if he doesn't remember, he knows.

You only know Ana's finished talking because of the crashing noise of applause, like the shore breaking on a cliffside. Your ears burn. You keep your head low as you exit the stage.

This isn't how you wanted it to happen.

You're torn between wanting to explain yourself and wanting to escape. Heart hammering, cutting through the crowd, you choose the latter.

You make for a secluded alcove of the Atrium, far from the crowd at its center, and sit on a marble bench.

You never lied to Theseus. If anything he was the one who lied. He said he'd remember you. He'd promised.

"It's okay," you repeatedly run your hands over the material of your skirt, over your thighs. It's meant to be reassuring, grounding. You don't feel like it's working. "It's okay, Y/N."

You'd like to say it was the stage fright at work, but no. It was the way he looked at you that was so upsetting. He looked at you like the earth was shattering.

"Y/N!"

Your head lurches upwards from where it's bent over.

It's shocking to you, the sight of him. As shocking as it was to see him in his soldier's uniform, standing in your doorframe on that night all those years ago.

"Y/N," Theseus walks over with heavy footsteps. He looks winded and undone, like he'd run to find you. His voice is weak. "It's.... How can it be you?"

There's a desolate longing to your returning stare. Your chest hurts. You're shaking your head, trying to dispel some of that tightness in your heart.

"You said you didn't need a name to remember me...."

"Did you remember me?"

"Of course," you're speaking so fiercely, he doesn't deserve it but you can't help it. "Right away."

Why is it more embarrassing to be the one who remembers? It's even more embarrassing than being forgotten.

"That's why I stopped writing to you that day," you add pathetically. "After I saw your face at the Ministry, I'd put the pieces together. All it took was once glance."

Theseus sits down beside you on the bench, still looking adrift. At a loss of what to do with this information.

"You must be disappointed," he says at last. "And you must think me a fool."

"Well... I don't think you're a fool," you hope that doesn't reveal your disappointment, but his pained wince suggests the opposite.

"I should have known," he says with newfound vigor. "You really haven't changed, have you? Even after your coming-of-age, you're still as stubborn as ever."

That makes you laugh, dreary as the sound is.

"I didn't come of age I just sort of... came through."

He laughs at that. "You know, I've seen far more of your siblings."

"Really?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"No, not really..." None of you liked to talk about your father's death or the period surrounding it. Too painful.

"Well, I spent a good week with them. With your father too, obviously. I had to make sure he was receiving proper care."

"Did you speak to them?"

"Your sister didn't understand much of what I was saying, the same for your father. But I spoke with your brother often, his English wasn't half bad."

You groan. "What did you talk about?"

Theseus seems pleased. Eager to demonstrate to you how much he remembers.

"Of course I asked him if you really were a combat nurse, had to make sure I didn't just send a teenager to her death," Theseus explains. "So he told me about the first time you came to help out in the trenches. Some story about the men catcalling you, telling you ways to make yourself prettier, and you shouting 'It's not my job to be beautiful!' at them and tightening the tourniquet of the man you were working on. Your brother told me he yelped so loud that none of the other men dared to bother you again."

You laugh breathlessly. It's so strange to hear the memory come out of Theseus's mouth. Everything about this feels impossible. Ridiculous.

"Did my brother share any other anecdotes about me?" You turn to Theseus with a wry look on your face.

This is oddly pleasant. Doesn't feel so awful anymore, unearthing the past together.

"I wish," Theseus's smile is toothy and endearing. Sly look in his eyes. "Naturally I asked almost exclusively about you. When he talked about you he called you by some pet name? I tried to use it to find you after the war before I realized it was only a nickname."

That makes your heart stir.

It was stupid. Impossible.

An unhappy coincidence. Those were all that seemed to keep you apart.

Theseus had tried to find you.

But [your brother's name] was so young at the time, he'd only ever thought of you as [your nickname] and never "Y/N." It wasn't his fault.

"I was so curious about you," Theseus continues. "Although I was proud of myself for not kissing you... You were too young. And I was relieved it was me who left last and not one of the other poor sods who came along, who knows what they would've done if a girl like you asked for a kiss."

"I wouldn't have asked them!" you protest, and his smile as he shirks off your playful hit splits your heart, you love him so.

Theseus raises an eyebrow, still smiling. "No? I thought you just wanted your first kiss before the battle. Didn't matter from who."

You shake your head.

"No.... I didn't even think to want to be kissed until I saw you. And until I realized my life was going to change forever. I'm an opportunist, I guess..."

The last part is meant to be a joke but he's not reacting accordingly anymore, he's hanging onto your every word.

And he's definitely looking at you too seriously for you to admit that you found him severely attractive. And kind. Observant and receptive, like he saw through you. Mostly handsome.

"I just," you cringe at yourself. Cower away from his searching eye-contact.

"What?" he prods. His smile is teasing this time, like he's hoping to charm the truth out of you.

"I just wish..." you wince at the words as you say them. "That you would've remembered me. It sounds silly, but I used to think about that night a lot as a girl. I handed over my siblings and my father to you, and I would've given you my first kiss, and more than that maybe... I still don't understand why you let me stay and fight in Verdun. I suppose it makes me feel even more silly, knowing it didn't mean as much to you."

The more you speak the more you watch his expression dampen. Theseus purses his lips unhappily.

"I'm new at this, Y/N."

"New at what?" You don't know what he means.

"And I'm already messing it up, aren't I?"

"Theseus," you say. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

"I just," he dips his head back in frustration. "I have thought of you and that night, often. I just never imagined you as a grown woman, Y/N. During the war, you'd become something like a guardian angel in my mind. Forever sixteen. But when I met you two days ago, I knew..."

It's so difficult for him to find the words it seems. He keeps grimacing and shaking his head to himself.

"I knew when my body reacted that way to seeing you. Every part of me rejoiced when I saw you sitting at your desk. It wasn't like meeting you for the first time, it was uncanny. Like... immediate recognition. It felt like I was remembering you, Y/N."

You place a hand over his sympathetically. It's warm under yours. It still makes your head spin, touching him at all.

"You made such an impression on me, Y/N," he reassures.

"I was just a girl," you say, dismissively. "I was naive."

"You were courageous, more than me or any of my men. Braver than all the British Ministry. It shook me, meeting you. Reminded me why I decided to fight, I'd become so jaded."

You have nothing to say to that. He fills in the silence.

"So you didn't want to become a nurse after all then? After the war, I mean."

"I never wanted to be a nurse, I just..." Death all around you. You just wanted to stop feeling helpless. "I wanted to help."

"I never wanted to be a soldier," Theseus offers congenially. "I just wanted to do what's right. That night you reminded me why I was there in the first place. You reminded me to be brave. I was ashamed of how little I thought of the muggles. And there you were, going off on your own, risking your life for them. Before you, I just wanted to minimize losses. But you made me want to save people."

Your lip wavers. You're staring into his eyes, into that pure blue, that dark sea. It's entirely inappropriate, but you'd like very much to kiss him now. You won't ask this time. You'd like to press yourself against his suit, no words can articulate what you feel for him, but maybe you could show him.

But then he speaks again.

"Y/N," there's a guarded, defensive edge to his tone that makes you hesitant. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer this at all, but I have to ask. Was that your first kiss yesterday? In my office."

You can't help but bristle. You're embarrassed. The look on your face reveals everything, so there's no use in hiding it. Damn him.

"Yes," you admit, hotly. "Was it obvious or something?!"

He groans, looks pale. His reaction horrifies you further.

"I shouldn't have done that," he's saying, he looks like he's going to be sick. "Falling all over you like a dog---I should've made it gentle. Sweet. Demonstrated an iota of self-control-"

"It's fine," you raise a hand, made shy by his self-deprecation. "We didn't do anything wrong."

That does give him pause. Theseus stops mid-sentence, mouth hanging open. He has to recompose himself.

"You're right," he relents with a gentle shake of his head. "We didn't. I just mean... I would've made it good for you, Y/N."

"It was good," you insist. You're not sure if he's talking about kissing anymore.

"Let me try again, I'll get it right this time."

Your heart races.

You wonder when you'll get used to this, the knowledge that he wants to touch you, that he's going to give you what you want. Wonder when your body will stop reacting like a prey animal's every time you're near him, so strong is his effect on you. You want to run. No, you want to bare your neck, submit. Let love kill you.

Your sister's words from this morning are the only thing stopping you.

You have to close your eyelids before speaking.

"Theseus, do you...."

"Yes?" his smile is almost too dazzling for you to formulate a response.

"With other women... Do you do that sort of thing often? Not that it matters..."

For a stunned moment he doesn't react.

Then he is laughing at you. It startles you and hurts your feelings.

"Y/N, I don't--Oh, Y/N!" He hurriedly moves to reassure you when he notices the look on your face, reaching out and grabbing your arm. "Oh, no! I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Theseus," you groan, hiding your face, humiliated.

"No, no," he says again, trying to gently pull your hands away so he can look you in the eyes. His hands are firm and persistent. He's still half-laughing as he speaks. "It's just that I've never done something like that before. Y/N, I don't know how to say it better, but I am dreadfully in love with you."

You look up sharply, instantaneously, to read his expression. It is serene and sincere.

No sign of a prank, no sign of a psychotic break.

Oh god. Your stomach plummets. He loves you.

He loves you.

"Theseus, I-"

"Y/N!"

Once again, Mr. Bragg has taken it upon himself to surprise you. You jerk away from Theseus on the bench.

Theseus closes his eyes and doesn't turn to greet him, his wrath is only barely veiled.

"Mr. Bragg!" You stand abruptly. "What-What are you..."

"The ceremony is over!" He seems annoyed that you don't remember, his pride bruised. "If I'm not mistaken you and I have a date in my office?"

Theseus makes a comically disgusted face, looking between you and Mr. Bragg in rude astonishment. If you weren't afraid of offending you might've been amused.

"He means an appointment, Theseus," you hiss in clarification. That seems to sedate Theseus if only slightly.

"And yes of course," you say to Mr. Bragg with a placating smile. "I'm all yours."

---

next part here

-----

author's note: part 3 (LAST PART) incoming! i had to break this part into two because it was getting too long :(

hope you enjoyed! more drama and smut in part 3

(spoiler: mr. bragg sucks + drunk!Reader and caring!Theseus)

#theseus scamander #fantastic beasts #theseus x reader #theseus scamander x reader #hp fanfic #fbawtft

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muxshwriting · 3 months ago

Text

we always do...

Theseus Scamander x reader

summary: theseus and his wife may have very conflicting views on war, but they'll never go to bed angry and never leave the other in danger || warnings: fighting, violence || word count: 1567 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader: Can you please write a Thesues Scamander x reader fic from your imagination (my minds not working as of now)

You often disagreed with your husbands job. Not in theory, because being an auror is an honourable and noble career. But in practise, the ministry was throwing him recklessly into a war and not to capture dark wizards. You knew that you couldn't stop Theseus from fighting, the reckless and caring man he is. But you wanted him to stay alive, even if it meant arguing with him about safety and trying to get him to take care of himself before running into danger to help others.

"Why do you have to go and fight?"

"I'm the head of aurors." Theseus said incredulously.

"You don't deserve to fight and die in this war just because you're an auror. You didn't sign up to be a soldier."

He shrugged. "Sometimes that's what the world needs."

You nod, seemingly finished with the disagreement before continuing to speak. "Where's you brother?"

"What?"

"He's sent us a letter," You hold up said letter for Theseus to see. "He's put together a haphazard alliance to try and singlehandedly take down Grindelwald. An alliance he implies you already knew about. Are you and Newt insane, Theseus? Have you been checked?"

Theseus chuckled slightly at your words. "Darling, Newt only told me about his team today. The letter arrived later than expected. I'm going to try and stop him from getting himself killed."

"Then I'm going to stop you from being killed." You declare.

"I'm not going to be killed, Y/N."

"You're throwing yourself into a suicide mission and I can't let you do it alone. Look-"

Theseus pulled you into his arms. "I know. I know." He comforts. "We'll get through this together, right?"

You give him a watery smile. "We always do."

"We always do." He agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap as you start to realise what the future may hold for you and your husband. Slowly, you're realising the harrowing weight of your new quest and the increasing likelihood of an outcome that involves death.

"Have you got something on your mind?" Theseus asks softly.

"Besides the obvious, no." You glance out of the window, unable to look him in the eyes. "I love you Theseus."

He replies in earnest. "I love you too."

★--~-~--★

The crowd shouts as Newt leads you all through the German Ministry of Magic. Theseus' hand has a firm grip on yours, keeping you close to him and trying to keep you safe. You stay by his side as Newt tries to pass on his message to Vogel. The Supreme Mugwump steps up to make his final speech, beginning normal and then starting to take a more sinister turn.

Newcomers begin to slink into the room, a few faces recognisable from Paris. They're Grindelwald's followers, meaning that this tea party in Berlin won't end as calmly as you hoped it would. The three of you follow the newcomers as they weave through the crowd, being watched as you do this and almost taunted by them.

"... insufficient evidence exists to prosecute Gellert Grindelwald for the crimes against the muggle community of which he was accused." The Supreme Mugwump pardons Grindelwald of all his crimes as Theseus approaches his followers, attempting to place them under arrest.

One sneaks up behind you and a wand presses against your temple. Your body freezes in place as you try to see who has you under threat. The shift of your head had the wizard behind you wrapping his arm around your neck to hold you in place.

"Theseus!" Before he could reply, Theseus is hit with a spell he never saw coming and drops to the ground. The crowd began to thin as people didn't want to be involved and swiftly left the room. You begin to struggle against his grip, trying to fight back but an utterance is heard and the world goes black.

When the world comes back into view, the first thing you realise is that you're upside down. Secondly, your hands and ankles are bounded together and chained to the ceiling of the dank cell you find yourself in. Thirdly, you're alone. Theseus is nowhere to be seen but you can hear the chinking of chains to your right.

"Theseus?"

The clinking stopped. "Hello? Y/n, is that you?"

"Theseus!" At least you weren't in this prison alone. "Are you alright?"

"I think so?" The answer came out as a question. "I'm upside down for some reason."

You can't hold back your laugh, imagining your husband strung up by his ankles and swinging in his cell. "Me too. I think the blood is getting to my head."

Theseus sighed. "Yeah. Are you alright though? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm alright." You reply. "Can't wait to get out of here, but alright."

The two of you hang together for many hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the blood rush become too much at times. You're awoken to someone calling Theseus' name and getting closer.

"Rescuing us are you?" Theseus tries to joke.

"That's the general idea!" Newt replies, edging closer. You see he's being followed by a large consortium of crabs, all copying the bizarre way he is walking.

"Is this a strategic move or do you just like to walk like that sometimes Newt?" You ask him.

Newts shrugs slightly. "It's called limbic mimicry, supposed to discourage violent engagement."

"Supposed to?" Theseus asks.

"Theoretically. I've only attempted it once before with inconclusive results." He continues to ramble about his experiment as he now faces Theseus.

A giant tail sprouts from the central darkness to assess the space next to Newt. The three of you freeze in place, Newt dodging the tail. A few levels down, a firefly lamp goes out and the prisoner screams. The tail retracts and a stinger takes it's place, aiming directly for the screaming prisoner and dragging him down into the depths.

In the chaos of the smaller crabs, Newt cut Theseus down and moved on to sever your bonds as well. You dropped to the floor, angling your body so you'd land on your side and shoulder instead of your head.

"Thanks Newt." You sarcastically say, pulling yourself to your feet and moving towards Theseus. Newt was once again focused on the crabs, who were interested in you all again.

"And the plan is?" Theseus asks.

Instead of answering, Newt cupped his hands to his face and blew, letting a whistle-like noise echo throughout the prison.

"Uh Newt? That's not a plan."

"We're gonna need some help." He suddenly struck up his pose to 'discourage violent engagement' and the crabs copied him without hesitation. After the exchange of some heavy looks, you and Theseus copied him and began to the slow ascent to the exit.

Just as you neared the top, Theseus stepped on one of the crabs, crushing it. Before any of you could say a word, the lamp began to flicker in and out and the distinct rumbling of the giant creature began. The tail popped up from the darkness and the trio ran. As you weaved through narrow stone corridors, the creature's tail crashed through walls just behind, hunting for it's prey. It began to shoot poison from it's stinger that was so strong it melted stone.

You and Theseus were separated as you tried to avoid the flying poison and the onslaught of regular crabs which had reappeared. The number of appendages that the creature had seemed to only grow as they appeared in every direction, hunting for you.

As a limb reached toward you, you jump over a different limb and continue to run. Spotting Theseus in the corner of your eye, you make a beeline towards him and almost crash into him as you slowed, Newt joining you. You all took off down yet another hallway as the rocks collapsed behind you, separating the creature from the group. Or so you thought.

Before you had a second to breathe, the creature had wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you and pulling you backwards. Theseus called out your name, grasping your hands in his and trying to keep you close. Newt tries to help but Theseus' grip falters for a moment and you slide closer to the edge.

Out of nowhere, Pickett appears with Newt's wand and you all fall into the pit before apparatting out of that godforsaken place.

Your back slams onto forest floor, limb still wrapped around your waist. The feel of it repulses you as you try to squirm your way out and push it off of you. Theseus pulls it off as it continues to move and wriggles away through the leaves.

Now on your feet, your hands are batting off and dirt and leaves stuck to you, still convinced you were being crushed by the creature. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears and your hands have a slight shake to them. Theseus gently approaches, grasping your hands in his and staring into your soul.

"You're alright. It's over. We're safe."

"We got through it." You mutter, stumbling into his arms.

Theseus melted in your embrace, dropping his head onto your shoulder. "We always do."

"We always do..." You whispered back like a mantra, a prayer that you both would and a promise that you did.

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #fantastic beasts #harry potter #wizarding world #muxsh #muxshwriting

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aiiviiloo · 7 months ago

Text

A Bandaid of Love

summary: theseus always shows up to y/n when he gets a cut, since she always has a bandaid. some say he's there for help but others know that it's not just because of that. word count: 2k warnings: mostly fluff and pining for each other, reader is kinda oblivious to the flirting, i imagine theseus to be like a flirty person when he really likes someone masterlist

"hey, y/n?"

"a bandaid? again? what did you do this tim-" y/n looked up from her parchment and got eye contact with the famous newt scamander

"oh! newt! sorry i thought it was theseus." she chuckled and watched how newt sat down in front of her.

newt slammed his head onto her desk and groaned, his fluffy hair laying down onto the table gently.

"what's wrong?" y/n asked the poor boy in front of her while leaning back in her cushioned seat.

"i have that meeting about my permit and i'm nervous. it hasn't gone well in a while." newt explained, looking up from his demise.

y/n only patted his shoulder, smiling empathetically while continuing on her work on her parchment.

"if you think more openly, it will go much better, i think. you just have to... listen maybe to what they want to say?" she tried to comfort newt who only looked at her with a sigh.

"theseus already said that, that i should be less me."

y/n smiled for herself and a door opened into her office, theseus scamander walking inside with his finger slightly in his mouth.

"sorry for interrupting, darling, but i cut myself again." theseus began, not noticing newt by the desk.

y/n didn't say anything and slid her drawer open, pulling out one of her pink bandaids and handing it to theseus who smiled at her softly at the sight of the baby pink bandaid.

"thank you." theseus thanked her and plastered it onto his bleeding finger while looking to the side, now noticing his brother.

"oh, hello, brother." he greeted newt with a smile, newt only exchanging a small smile to his older brother before leaning his chin on his hand, staring at y/n who continued on her work.

theseus patted newt on the shoulder and left the office with a smile on his face.

"you know, he's been getting cuts a lot lately." y/n spoke outloud, not really thinking about what she was actually saying and newt rolled his eyes.

"can't you see it?" newt said to y/n who put down her quill, eyebrows furrowed while she looked at newt who had an "are you fr?" expression.

newt only shook his head while standing up, leaving y/n confused while trying to continue her work.

what did newt mean by that?

another two hours went by with no disruptions and y/n finished her work, now reading a book about dangerous charms for smart wizards 101.

it was quiet, too quiet for y/n to even be able to focus on the book she was reading.

all of her thoughts were on the thing newt had said to her.

what did he mean by how she couldn't see it? see what? theseus only needed bandaids because he got hurt so much, what's special about that?

a knock on the door was heard and y/n called out for the person to step in and in stepped theseus with a small smile on his face.

"hi, theseus!" y/n greeted the man, sliding her bookmark between the pages before closing the book, putting her attention to theseus who leaned against the desk while watching her movements.

"need another bandaid?" she joked and theseus chuckled and shook his head, fiddling with a paperclip on the desk.

"no, just wanted to see what my favourite auror was doing." he said, his smile brightening as they start to converse, about anything really.

y/n looked at the clock and saw that her shift was over, lifting her feet off of her desk, making theseus stand straight.

"going somewhere tonight?" he asked, y/n shaking her head with a smile.

"probably just continue working on my book, maybe eat a good dinner, nothing too exciting." she answered while pulling her arms through the coat with a simple movement.

theseus saw this as an open door for him. time to actually get her on a date with him so that he could express his longing feelings for the girl in front of him.

they went to hogwarts together, the same house too and year. hufflepuff is a comfort for the both of them and the memories they have together are memorable for sure.

but it started for theseus in year three. y/n had just changed her hair and something with it just pulled theseus closer to her.

every lesson he sneaked glances at her, watching her write on her parchment, her small focused face while working on a potion while he accidentally dropped in too much gillyweed into his own cauldron.

a small explosion was beneath theseus and a cloud of ash exploded into his face, his hair sticking up by the sudden force of air.

the classroom began giggling while the professor walked up to him with a sigh, shaking his head while helping him clean up his desk by the flick of his wand.

a small chuckle was heard and theseus looked up from his failed potion, making eye contact with y/n who was hiding her chuckle behind her hand.

theseus felt a grin on his lips while his professor told him to just sit down and wait until the rest of the class finished, walking away to continue help other students.

theseus sat down in his stool, his head down and looking into his lap with a smile because even if he ruined his potion, he got a reaction from the girl of his dreams.

it was in the sixth year he finally got to be close to her. the yule ball.

they went together as friends. just friends.

but theseus loved every second of the night, his hands on her waist as they danced to the jazz from the live orchestra who were playing about some witch with bad teeth or something, theseus didn't care.

his eyes were on y/n's while they danced, her smile making the room brighter than it was before. it was a scene, for sure.

the night had continued until the head master had told everyone that it was now over, y/n and theseus walking out from the hall with massive grins on their faces.

"that was fun" y/n had mentioned while they walked up to their common room, theseus muttering the password to the fat lady who was woken up by the studenst returning.

"never knew you could dance like that, theseus." she continued with a snicker, theseus only rolling his eyes while smiling.

"you're just jealous, n/n." he had answered, now noticing how y/n's head was leaning against his shoulder.

y/n chuckled quietly as they stood in front of the two staircases that divided them for the night.

she turned to theseus, standing up onto her toes to leave a short kiss on his cheek before bidding him goodnight and leaving to go to bed.

theseus stood still with a small smile as he put his hand where y/n had kissed him. it was magical.

one of his friends wentby him with a laugh, punching him lightly in the shoulder as an encouragment as they walked up to their own dorm.

theseus slept well that night, a grin on his face.

but now they were older, adults in work.

"hey, n/n?" he asked y/n who was grabbing her bag. she looked up and nodded.

"since you're not doing anything special tonight how about we go eat dinner together? we can go to jessie's, we haven't been there in a long time." theseus suggested to y/n who felt a small smile creep onto her face.

"are you asking me onto a date, theseus scamander?" she asked with a smirk on her face as she walked closer to him, making his heart beat faster.

"maybe, is that wrong to do, darling?" theseus smugly said, looking down at the woman in front of him with a smirk.

"not at all."

theseus handed his elbow out with a chuckle, y/n only grinning and curtsying dramatically before taking his elbow, walking with him out from her office and out from the ministry, their bodies close as they walked around in london.

the pair arrived at jessie's, the calm jazzy mood inside comforting them both as they got sat down at a table, facing each other.

"i recognise this song." y/n said while opening the menu in front of her.

it was one of the songs that had been at the yule ball that night, it was one of y/n's favourites.

"it brings you back, doesn't it?" theseus asked while reading the menu, his eyes flicking up toward y/n who nodded.

"remember that clevens guy who vomitted all over professor burke?" y/n chuckled as she remembered the scene of the poor kid vomiting over the professor who wasn't entirely happy with him.

theseus chuckled with her before a waiter came and asked for their orders.

soon enough the waiter came back with the food and the pair began eating, keeping a small chatter between them.

the night softly came to a close and the pair walked out from the restaurant, theseus stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

they walked on the streets, not ready to end the night between them.

while they walked, some shouting was heard and a group of men where walkign towards the pair on the streets.

theseus felt a signal through his spine and hurriedly slid his arm around y/n's waist, looking down at his feet as they walked past the men.

one of the men stared at y/n with an ugly grin, his teeth crooked in his mouth as he wiped his lips like a hungry dog, it was quite disgusting, y/n thought.

theseus hand held y/n's waist tightly, almost scared that one of the men would snatch her away and as they became alone again on the street, he didn't let go.

"theseus, you're pinching me a little." y/n giggled and looked up at theseus who's eyes darted down and he realised what he was doing and loosened his grip.

"sorry, didn't mean to." he muttered, looking back at the men who were walking into an alley.

"my flat is just right there, if you want to you can stay over the night at mine's?" y/n suggested, trying to hint that she would like him to stay as she played a little with her heel against the concrete.

theseus looked down with a grin, his eyebrows lifted in slight surprise.

"sure, darling, i'm guessing you need someone to warm your bed for you?" he joked, following with y/n to her flat.

right as they walked inside, an old woman's voice was hear.

"is that you y/n?" she called out.

y/n put a hand over theseus' mouth and sighed.

"yes, ms. burrow."

"is it just you?"

"always, ms. burrow."

theseus tilted his head like a confused puppy but y/n ignored him and walked up the stairs with theseus behind her.

she opened the door to her flat and walked inside but theseus stood there kinda nervously, not really knowing if he should be there or not.

"should i really or-?" his whisper got interrupted by y/n pulling in him by the tie into the flat while theseus closed the door with his foot.

"so excited of being with me, huh?" he smirked, looking down at y/n who rolled her eyes and pulled her low heels off of her feet, waddling into her room.

theseus pulled his coat and shoes off, following after her and getting greeted by y/n sitting on her bed criss-cross, fiddling with her watch.

"are the walls thin here?" theseus asked, standing in front of y/n and her bed while y/n shook her head.

"good." he muttered and crashed his lips onto hers, y/n's hands letting her watch go and putting her hands behind her, steadying herself into the kiss.

theseus slowly crawled over her, his body between her legs as they began making out.

theseus' hand played with y/n's stockings and slid up under her skirt, his fingers softly teasing the cotton underwear, a moan escaping y/n.

"oh let me hear you, let ms. burrow hear you, my darling." theseus muttered into y/n's ear and his hand continued beneath the cotton.

masterlist

#x reader #callum turner #callum #the boys in the boat #masters of the air #bucky egan #callum turner x reader #theseus scamander #theseus #scamander #theseus scamander x reader #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fanfic #oneshot #1920s #f!reader

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luvtak · 7 months ago

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corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters.

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky.

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him.

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away.

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy.

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there.

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own.

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,”

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story.

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking.

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime.

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity,

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.”

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being.

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.”

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper.

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch.

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy.

#felix fluff #felix x reader #felix scenarios #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee felix #felix

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saintsstranger · 3 months ago

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the art of lies | t.s. (fantastic beasts) - chapter three

Chapter Summary: secrets are meant to be unraveled

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

warnings: mature themes, implied sexual content, sexworker protagonist, pleasure house (brothel), smoking

the art of lies masterlist

BENEATH THE STEPS OF THE ARCHWAY and golden street lamp, Theseus would’ve thought you looked heavenly. Almost resembling an angel.

With your hand holding onto a luggage with all your belongings, waiting for him.

“Run away with me?”

You would’ve asked. And right at the moment, Theseus needed not to think about the future, he would say yes.

He didn’t understand why or how it came to be. You were an angel of seduction, smiling at him with a hand outstretched. Only for your eyes to not gleam like he wanted to.

This was a sweet— sweet lie.

What stands in front of him was not you. Merely a shadow of wistful thinking. This was just Theseus’ imagination playing tricks on him. A mere wish from the heart.

Is it because he has been through war for years, and the only sign of romantic attraction he had was back when he was still in Hogwarts, rejected because he was not from the House of Slytherin. This was not a school-boy crush; this relationship—whatever it is he is threading into is such a dangerous game. And this far surpasses such simple childish attractions.

How easy it is for you to tear him apart, break his mind, graze your teeth on his pulse, and make him bleed, but instead, you chose not to. It was pathetic to think he came apart so quickly, he wasn’t always like this. He was a child of war, and he had seen it first hand. And Theseus trusted you fully, baring his heart, mind, and soul.

You only wanted one thing: safety. He can see right in your eyes, the freedom; the ability to walk out of this unscathed. And Theseus would gladly give it to you if it meant the world. The responsibility of keeping you safe didn’t feel like a burden; it was a promise he was willing to burn the world for.

And for his vow to be true, he needed a way in—just like you thought him, he needed leverage to offer to Madame Blanche, something she does not have. If this was the only way you’d ever get to leave, then he was ready to get his hands dirty.

To be standing right where it began, he looked at the looming structure of Amour Délicat. The over-nauseating scent of floral-filled his senses, the bite of the cold air was fueling his nerves to a full. This time, he feared, let him grovel to the ground and beg to let you go. He would look into your eyes and, this time, he will ask for you to run away.

Running away with him? Might be a fool's wish.

Then consider him a fool.

Although there seems to be quite a predicament, Theseus is currently facing two problems. The first is that there is a recent development about the case of the missing delegate.

Charles Moore had been found. A big problem is that he is dead, located in the muggle world with traces of cruciatus curse lingering on their mangled body. When Theseus and Torquil Travers heard the news, they immediately knew that this was done by someone who wanted to know that their threats were not to be taken lightly. If they had dumped his body right on the grounds of the muggles, then they were a threat, someone who is not afraid to showcase magical acts in front of non-magical people. Someone who wants the world to know about them, the wizarding world.

And the biggest problem he is currently facing is that you haven’t talked to him in two weeks, no letters or planned rendezvous. You must have known what happened to the missing delegate and presumed that your job with Theseus was done, therefore, ceasing contact. Theseus vowed he would provide you safety, and right now you had gone back into hiding; you must have felt disappointed with him. And Theseus who never grew desperate, who always has his head on his shoulders, is running out of options.

Just like the first week he had met you. He came barging right in, and the receptionist's eyes widened in recognition at the sight of the auror. Madame Blanche had posted details about being wary of British Aurors getting information, but it did not pass by the woman’s mind. Since the auror came alone, it must be just another customer wanting a night of debauchery, giving him her customer service smile.

“Welcome to Amour Délicat, where the finest maidens and bachelors are always catered to your liking. How can we be of service?”

Like a practiced mantra, the receptionist did not miss a beat. Theseus looked at her, then the surrounding areas, not scanning like it was a crime scene rather looking for something… or someone.

“You wish to avail a particular flower, then?” Her voice became white noise to Theseus' senses as he looked for you in the nook and cranny of the lounge. After a minute, Theseus returned to his senses and stared right back at the woman before him.

“No. I am here to gather an audience with Madame Blanche.” That was unpredictable.

“Oh! Then I’ll put you on hold. I need to talk to Madame about your presence. I’ll let you know if she declines your request.” It was clear to Theseus he was unwanted here. After making a ruckus the last time he was here, the young lady at the receptionist must have thought he was here for a service. With a nod, Theseus waited as the young woman walked towards the backroom.

Theseus turned around once more; even with broad daylight Amour Délicat was still full of clients roaming about. If it weren’t for the kind of establishment Amour Délicat has, this would've looked like a regular instance, but the patrons that walked in and out were enshrouded in the anonymity of their privacy. Faces covered by hoods were probably from a line of work that valued discreteness; meanwhile, Theseus and many others were unprepared or were simply here for pleasure, their faces evident in the light, unaware of the possibility of showing face.

Right at the main lounge, the dooming sound of the elevator from Madame Blanche sounded turning around Theseus expected it was Madame Blanche, but the footsteps were far heavier. Far too commanding.

As soon as the piercing gray eyes of the man landed on Theseus, his eyes lit up with recognition.

“If it isn’t the world-renowned war hero, Mr. Scamander.” The man smiled as he stepped straight towards the auror. As soon as the man looked Theseus eye-to-eye, the auror couldn’t but list all the people he had known throughout his lifetime.

“I apologize. I might’ve come off as brash. Could not help myself to be ecstatic to meet the man who violated Archer Evermonde's emergency legislation. Takes a lot of nerve to help the non-magical people and be an enemy of the wizarding world.” The man held out his right hand, ready to introduce himself. “I’m Baudelaire, Pierre Baudelaire.”

André Baudelaire, the French Minister of Magic. Theseus has only seen him twice in his lifetime, and it was evident with their eyes that Pierre was his son. Eyes that loomed over anyone who looked their way. 3

Theseus gave him his professional smile and shook Pierre's hand firmly.

“I wouldn’t say I was the enemy of the wizarding community; I did what I had to do to help those in need.” Theseus, ever the hero, replied. Letting go of Pierre’s hand as the other man hummed.

“A noble cause for their people… and to be awarded as a hero.” Pierre hummed. “I say the muggles certainly live a different life, wouldn’t you say so? Passing their time through a game of darts.”

“That I would not deny, they taught me how to play a game of cards. They certainly know how to amuse themselves. I assume you to had a fair-share of their cuisine as well?” Theseus, merely inquiring, looked at the man in glee.

“Their liquor was not strong… that I would remark. Although, I was not able to stay for long unlike you had done. A simple tavern.” Pierre smiled. “Alas, I hope I am not wasting your time Mr. Scamander. You must have been here for important matters.” The man started to end the conversation and gave one last pointed look at Theseus.

“I do not mind Mr. Baudelaire, it was nice talking to you.” Theseus nodded, as soon as the man was out of sight. The faint footsteps of the faint footsteps of the receptionist came to call for him. Just like the first-time Theseus walked into the halls of the establishment, he was led to lift that had a painting of white flowers dancing in the breeze.

For his second time being in the establishment, he realized what the flowers represented. All the small details, from the catalog of the courtesans being flowers and how your floor was decorated like the night sky.

And there in the middle of the room sat Madame Blanche, hands on her head as she stared at the papers scattered throughout the desk. It was a far cry from what she looked like the first time they met. Instead of the refined successful woman that greeted the aurors back then, what sat at the chair was a lady far too unkept and stressed beyond her years. Madame Blanche looked like she had too much on her plate as she stared at the unopened envelope with such intensity. And right at the floor was the lone flower out from its vase, water spilling right through the carpeted floors.

“I presume you are here for another problem, pray tell and hurry on with it. I don’t have all day to deal with you Englishmen. What do you want?” With a wave of her hand, she stared at Theseus annoyed by his presence.

“I am here to talk about—”

“Here to propose to me your grandiose dreams of buying the indenture of one of my Bouquet de Blanc? Spare me the details Mr. Scamander, she is not for sale, never will be.” Madame Blanche procured a bottle of fire whiskey.

Theseus' eyes narrowed, straightening his tie.

She is not for sale, never will be.

It was easy like that to claim your freedom and yet far from your reach, far from Theseus’ fingertips were the vows he promised you. You did not deserve that, your eyes craved the walls of freedom, the breeze of the wind as you ran away without looking back to your former job. You deserve to be free, to love like a normal human being and yet you are chained body and soul to a job you must have grown to hate.

From surviving the streets, begging crumbs off the hands of the wealthy, and now you were bound to be here forever.

“And why is that? May I ask. You let the other courtesan go easily? Why can’t she?” Theseus argued, eyes fueling with rage as the woman who sat before him only drank in her cup. With a deep sigh, the piercing stare of Madame Blanche went straight at Theseus, legilimency cursing through his veins as he felt the woman crept into his mind but Theseus knew not to yield. He had prior training, and to see what is in his mind is what his weakness scares him, you taught him that he needed leverage in every fight and he is fighting like he was back in war to protect his mind, to protect you.

“Because with you being a simple lowly auror could never afford her Mr. Scamander.” Madame Blanche scoffed, as her attempts to pry the doors of memories, thoughts and feelings remained unopened to the keys of her legilimency.

Her words as sharp as knives, as painful as the unforgivable curse spat right out into the open air.

“You are here to offer her love? What can that feed?” Madame Blanche stood up glaring right at Theseus.

“Oh! You wish for a home? Do you think you can protect her with brick walls made of love? Or you wish to have a family consisting of three? Do you think your children will ask why her mother kept so many secrets? Or how about enemies? You think with all the secrets she knows, there would be no one in the world who would want her dead the moment she stepped foot outside of these very walls? How about when she becomes a mother? Do you think she can handle caring for a child when all she has known in her life is to fight for what she needs… to beg in the streets… Do you think she will be gentle like how your mother was to you? How about you, will you be able to stay through her worst throughout your whole life?”

Theseus was silent.

“Foolish, that’s what you are Mr. Scamander. I have met the exact fools like you once, and he ended up being a disappointment.” Madame Blanche whispered, her words growing cold in the wind as did her fingertips that grazed lightly in his shoulder.

“You’re wrong.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I came here for her freedom not for love. I came here not to act as a hero rather as a helping hand. Yes, I am foolish but I’ll fight through Azkaban and back to give her what she desperately wants… and if you can’t see that then you must be the foolish one.”

Madame Blanche paused when Theseus stood up and looked at him straight in her eyes. He is indeed a respectable young man, too heroic for his age, too naive of the hurt he will walk through as soon as he opens the doors of Pandora's box of letting you free. Yet, Madame Blanche admired him for that.

“As much, as this meeting is amusing to me Mr. Scamander, I do commend you for standing your ground. You are too naive—” As Madame Blanche walked towards her chair.

Theseus has seen it, Madame Blanche’s eyes. “You two are the same.”

“You are great liars, but there is a slight tell-tale of the both of you lying. I can see right through it without needing to pry your mind. Like mother… like daughter.” The truth coming right off Theseus lips like waterfall as the whole room has gone cold.

“What did you say?” Madame Blanche remained steadfast unlooking towards Theseus' revelations.

“That’s why you have gone to great lengths to find her, you wanted to protect your own daughter, and the only way for you to see her safe is to add her in your catalog. You didn’t want anyone prying into your weakness and using her against you. Yet here you are, bare to the world as you remain not looking at me, it’s because it is the truth. Isn’t it, Madame Blanche de Roux?”

Madame Blanche's jaw went rigid.

“Who was it? How did you know?” Madame Blanche’s stare was far from what she looked earlier, this far by surpass the anger that he had seen earlier.

“From her.” He didn’t mean it, Theseus never did but whenever you are traversing his minds as you are giving him your memories, another door opens and this time he had seen what looks to be an old door.

In that memory, curiosity got the better of him as he had seen what seems to be Madame Blanche cooing at the young babe in her arms. But the words he could never understand as the couple before him fought, the only notable about the man was his own uniform of the french auror. There stood in front of him a nameless man, worried lines written all over his feature as he kissed her daughter goodbye. Daughter which features the same face that stood before Theseus. One could never forget.

“Your own daughter unknowingly showed me a memory.”

a/n: prepared for the long-due author's note

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander x y/n #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander oneshot #theseus scamander fic #theseus scamander smut #theseus scamander x you #fantastic beasts fic #fantastic beasts imagine #fantastic beasts one shot #callum turner

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renren-006 · 9 months ago

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Hiii I just wanna say I love your writing <33

Can I request heavvyyyyyyy smut with f!reader x Theseus Scamander in which they are both aurors wanting head auror position and Theseus is tired of reader always running her mouth and one night when they are both staying in the office late she has to drop of something in his office and they have a mini argument and he shuts her up iykwim (lil bit of choking and biting kink for ✨spice ✨) - ⛄️

Magical Hands | Theseus Scamander x fem Reader

A/n: hey omg absolutely!! thank you so much for the request! hehe also thank you for including some elements you want!!

warning: 18 PLUS ONLY!! smut! spicy!

word count: 1471

While you did work with a ton of Aurors there was one in particular you couldn't stand, and maybe it was because he slightly made you weak but it was also just because of his arrogance. You hated how he boasted about how good he was at his job, and how you felt immeasurable compared to him. You wanted the Head Auror position, had been working towards it for a few years now and kept getting sidestepped by Thesus Scamander himself. How his brother was a completely different person, you had no idea. The man never ever let you get more than a few steps in front of you before he came in and stole what you thought was your position away from you.

You back talked to him, trash talked him even said his magic was flimsy, it was not, you just did everything you could to beat him down but it never worked. You knew he hated it, was annoyed by it, and that slightly made it better for you. The teasing and the banter, in your own way was showing him you did in fact want to be better but also that there was some other deeper level of attraction towards him.

It was one night during a particularly tough case that you and Theseus stayed late to work on it, in separate offices of course. You had scanned through some papers and had written up the incident report for the day and was going to drop it off to Thesaurus, not without some banter along the way.

“Well if it isn't the Great Aurora” you said as you hugged the doorway to his office. Thesis huffed a breath and looked up from where he was hunched over a large table in the room.

“What do you want?” he asked, looking at you now. You slowly meandered into the room.

“That's a lot of papers,” you said, ignoring his question.

“Yea, it's from the mess at the docks”

“Ah…I see even your greatness cant solve it” you said, trying at anything for him to take the bait like he sometimes does.

“Again what is it you want” he asked, clearly not amused by what you were saying or baiting.

“Why do you assume I want something?” you asked, snapping a bit at him.

“I don't have time for this y/n '' he said, pulling his attention back to his work, that he had slowly started to put back into piled.

“Aww can't pull yourself away for two minutes” you asked him as he was moving the things off the table, making you lean back on it watching him.

“Y/N '' Theseus said, snapping his head back to you, annoyance ringing clear in your name.

“Poor Theseus can’t…” you were cut off by his lips slamming onto yours, the clear force shoving your hips and ass further into the table. You were caught off guard for the first time in years. He slid his hands onto your waist lifting you without hesitation and putting you on the table. His eyes met yours, the pure lust and hunger on his face made you slowly unravel from the mask you had put on around him.

“Theseus?” you asked slowly wondering what was happening. He stepped back, gathering himself.

“Sorry i…”

“I didn't tell you to stop,” you told him, “I only wanted to know…why?”

“Why? Are you kidding me? For years you have been doing this act this flirtation annoying act…i cant take it for one more moment”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, I see how you are around the other Aurors and it's only to me that you do this,” he said, gesturing to you, the attitude you had with him. He walked back over, you let your legs spread apart the skirt you had on rising slowly as you did, showing more and more skin. A growl escaped his lips as he stood in between them.

“You wear those just for me?’ he asked, referencing your skit and the little number you had on underneath that he had a view of.

“Not intentionally” you told him

“Hmm so you just hopped id see your little number?”

“Maybe…maybe I'll bend in front of you, act like I'm going to pick something up and then…leave you there wanting more,” you told him, making him grip your legs.

“Tell me darling…you like being such a brat?” he asked you hand slowly making its way up your body then landing on your neck, wrapping around it slightly. You groaned, rocking your hips against the air, something Theseus caught. “Oh darling, cant be doing that now can you” he said. His other hand sliding up your thigh twords those little red undwewear you put on, and almost right twords your spots but stopping at the top of your thigh and squeezing. You were being teased and you knew it. The amount of restraint he was trying to have, became apparent to you when you saw him eyeing your skin and the hand wrapped around your neck. You wanted him to squeese, wanted him to slip sinde, you wanted all of him, however aggressive. You desperatly wanted that hunger to devour him and consume you. He eyes you again, making your skin heat up more and more from his gaze, his hunger.

“What are you so hesitant about?” you asked him, his eyes jumped to meet yours.

“Dont want to go to far”

“I want to go far with you” you told him, “devoir me baby” you told him, tilting your head up giving him the etire access to yourself. He squeezed your neck pulling himself into you. The squeezing from his hands sent you into space, your kisses were sloppier yes but he didnt care, not one but as he saw the ecstasy on your face. He left your lips, and gassed longly at your neck where is hand was wrapped around it and your eyes were glossy from the feeling. He let go, letting the life return to your eyes. You gazed lost at him, from the relised feeling of his hand and the blood and air circulating back up to your head. He ran his hand down your neck, grazing over your chest before stopping at your waist.

“Darling…” he started, the longing in his face, he wanted something.

“Anything you want” you told him, the look he gave you or terror and pleasure was enought to make you want to brake on this table. He moved your hair back, beefore he took that jacket off leaving just in an almost skin tight blue shirt, showing his flexing msussles underneath and that body you wanted ontop of yours. You pulled him back to you by his belt and pulled your self and him flush while still on that table. He could tell what you waned, and what he was definitely going to do to you. Your underware was slow to be slipped off by the hand that had come back to rest by your thighs. That red piece fell to the floor, leaving the cold air to make you hiss slightly. The building tension you had for him, to do whatever he wanted to you, was insufferable. This shirt was unbuttoned slowly by your hands, wanting to just feel him. Once it was and his shirt fell you knew without even looking that all his windows and the door were locked and no one was interrupting hhat you two were doing. You new a charm of silence and cast it around the room, and the growl from Thesus when he felt it put into place almost made you loose yourself again.

“No interruptions anymore” he said. Slowly most of your cloths were gone, and he stood there watching you, your body, as it cured to his touch. And when it was just the two of you those charms were truly needed. What ou never knew was how much thesusu enjoyed chocking you and how much he enjoyed bitting you, your neck, your thighs. You never wanted him to stop devouring you, the biute marks leaving deep red and almost bloody imprints on your skin. His thrust sent you into ecstasy, that table helping both of you that night. He made you reach the hevsns while keeping you tied down to earth.

The next day those bite marks along your neck and chest were on display for the entire department to see, and when people got a glance at the matching set of hickies on Theseus neck and those leading down his chest, not that they could see those but you knew, the entire office was in shambles about the two of you. Those bite marks and the non visible imprint his hand left on you kept you going back to each other.

#theseus scamander x reader #theseus #theseus scamander #fantastic beasts #fanfic #fanfic writing

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justanoasisimagines · 4 months ago

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Fluff Alphabet

Requests are open! Request guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

A = Affection - How afectionate are they? Do they like recieving affection etc?

Theseus is moderately affectionate with you. He's going to kiss you in a greeting and goodbye. He likes to hold your hand. Theseus likes to receive attention from you. He enjoys knowing he has you to seek affection from you. For example, when he's up late working on paperwork and you press a kiss to his cheek.

B = Bathing - Do they like to bathe or shower alone? What's it like to share a bath or shower with him?

Theseus enjoys taking a bath with you. It allows you to catch up, to talk about your respective days while soaking in the bath. Theseus even reheats the bath if it gets too cold. He likes to rest in the tub tracing lines over your body. It's the perfect time for you both to relax.

C = Cooking - Can they cook? Do they like to cook? Would they cook for you? What type of dishes would they like to cook?

Theseus loves to cook, it's one of the ways he relaxes. Theseus has a range of cookbooks in his kitchen. Whenever he gets the opportunity. Theseus will try cooking, a new recipe so you can try it together. Cooking for you could be considered as one of Theseus's love languages.

D = Dates - What type of dates would they like to go on? Do they like to plan dates? Be taken on dates? How frequently is date night? etc Theseus likes to take you out for dinner. He also likes to take you to the movies and late-night walks. He likes to plan date nights. Sometimes his work schedule gets in the way. He's going to make time for date nights. He tries to make a date night at least once a week if it's possible.

E = Effort - How much effort do they put in? How do they show their efforts? Are they either an all out or all in kind of person?

When you both become serious, Theseus is one hundred percent in. He's going to send you flowers when he's busy with work. He's going to try to see you even if it's for a little while. Also when it comes to your relationship Theseus is always thinking about your future.

F = Family - Do they want to have children? What would family life look like? How many children do they want? etc?

Theseus wants the family life. he wants to get married, he wants to settle down. It's one of the reasons he works so hard so he can provide for the life he wants. Theseus would want between two and four children. Although Newt and himself aren't particularly close he'd want his children to have siblings.

G = Gentleman/Lady - How much of a gentleman/lady would they be? Would they hold out doors for you? Pull out your chair? Walk on the road side? etc

Theseus would consider himself a gentleman. He brings you flowers, opens up doors for you and always pulls you out chairs for you. He's protective and willing to provide you with whatever you need.

H = Honeymoon - Where would they like to go on honeymoon? What would it look like? etc

Theseus would plan to take you somewhere warm for your honeymoon. He'd plan for lounging on the beach, relaxing in the sun. You'd both go swimming and enjoy the new surroundings. It's a time for you both to enjoy the first few days of married life while taking time off work.

I = I love you - How long would it take them to fall in love with you? How would they confess? Is it a big deal to them etc?

It would take several months for Theseus to fall in love with you. What makes Theseus realize he's falling in love with you is a moment. One day he notices something different about his feelings. He knows then how deep his feelings go for you. It's a big moment for him to say I love you, although it is subtle.

J = Jealously - How easily do they get jealous? What makes them jealous? How do they react when your jealous? etc,

Theseus is not easily jealous. To make Theseus jealous it needs to be someone persistent. They need to keep crossing boundaries. They need to ignore your relationship and continue to pursue you. This leads Theseus to be jealous. He's quick to remind someone you're together and nothing is going to change that.

K = Kisses - What kisses are they more likely to give? What kisses do they like to recieve? etc

Giving; Forehead kisses, cheek kisses, temple kisses, neck kisses, i missed you kisses, lazy kisses.

Receiving; Good morning/ Good night kisses, smiley kisses, jawline kisses, reassuring kisses,

L = Love Language - What's their love language(s)? What languages are they most receptive to?

Theseus's love languages would be acts of service and gift-giving. He wants to do things for you to prove how much he loves you. He believes words can be used casually, yet actions reinforce the intention. Also regarding gift-giving, gifts can be thoughtful and memory-provoking. Buying you your favorite flowers can show he's listened. buying you a random trinket that may appear obscure to someone can reflect a memory or a private joke between the two of you.

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? What would being married to them look like? Do they want a large or small wedding? etc

Theseus does want to get married. He doesn't want a massive wedding ceremony something small with your nearest and dearest. Theseus would be a dotting husband, always wanting to do right by you. He'd want to learn and grow with you as you move into different phases of your life together.

N = Nicknames - What nicknames would they use for you? Do you give any to them?

Nicknames for you; Love, Beautiful, Sweetheart and Honey

O = Obvious - How obvious are they? What gives them away? Their face or actions?

Theseus attempts to deny his obviousness. However, to everyone else it's obvious. It's the tenderness in the way he looks at you. The way his eyes can never leave you when you enter a room. He's more protective and considerate around you. Theseus smiles more and his happiness appears to generally improve.

P = Public Displays of Affection - Do they enjoy PDA? How comfotable are they with PDA?

Theseus is okay with moderate affection. He's more reserved when he's in public, however, he's still going to hold your hand and press a kiss to your temple. His reserved nature makes those affectionate moments between you more special and intimate.

Q = Quality Time - How do they like to spend quality time with you? How do they make time? Can they communicate effectively when they need quality time with you?

Theseus is always wanting to spend quality time with you, regardless of how that may look. Even if it's relaxing at home. It could be for half an hour during both of your lunch breaks. Theseus is good at finding those pockets of time. One of his skills however is communication. If he doesn't believe you're seeing enough of each other he's going to vocalise it.

R = Romantic - Do they consider themselves romantic?

Theseus would consider himself romantic. He knows how to plan romantic dinners and dates. He likes to bring you flowers home. It doesn't matter how long the two of you have been together, he'll still treat it as if you're dating.

S = Security - Do they feel secure in your relationship? What would they do if they didn't feel secure?

Theseus does feel secure in your relationship. He wouldn't be with you if he didn't feel secure. His security in your relationship is based on you two communicating when things need to be addressed. If Theseus didn't feel secure in your relationship then he'd vocalize it or perhaps he'd talk to someone about it. He wouldn't want to create an issue if they're wasn't one.

T = Tease - Do they like to tease you? If so, how?

Theseus doesn't tease you. Sometimes he struggles to let things go. He needs to have more fun. However, if anyone is going to tease anyone it's you. You're going to attempt to lure out that playful side for him. It could take years for it to happen but eventually, it does happen. Theseus could learn to become more playful with you.

U = Umbrella - Would they hold an umbrella for you? Would they kiss you in the rain? Dance with you in the rain?

Theseus prides himself on being a gentleman so he's going to hold out an umbrella for you. He'd rather himself drenched from the rain than you. If Theseus found out you wanted to kiss him in the rain then he's going to do it. Although he would be worried about you catching a cold.

V = Vanity - How do they see themselves? Positively or negatively? What's their favourite part of their body etc?

Theseus seems to himself quite positive. He's aware there's plenty more he could do to become a better person. He is quite harsh on himself in regards to his job in the ministry. If you asked Theseus what his favorite feature would be on himself he'd say his smile.

W = Whole - When you're apart do they feel like part of them is missing? How do they deal with being apart from you?

Theseus does miss you when you're gone. However, he does cope relatively well. He doesn't see the point of pinning after you when he could be busy allowing the time to slip away. He does plan a date for you when you return home.

X = Xtra - An extra headcanon

Newt's opinion of you is important to him. He knows his brother is a good judge of character and having Newt's approval is important to him. When the two of you meet for the first time, Theseus is the nervous one. He's the one who wants everything to go off without a hitch because he values his brother's opinion more than he lets on.

Y = You - What do you they like most about you? Favourite body part etc?

Theseus has a list of things he loves about you; your work ethic, your patience, your kindness, and your communication ability. Theseus generally admires you as a whole because he can't imagine a life without you. His favorite body part of yours would be your hands because they can provide a tender touch after a long day. They can massage his shoulders when work gets too much. Even to pull him away so he remembers to take a break.

Z = Zzzz - Sleeping headcanons

Theseus likes to hold you in his sleep. He likes the feeling of being close to you. He likes knowing you are safe and in his arms. It all brings comfort to him. You either curled up around him or he's curled around you. Theseus is the big spoon the majority of the time.

#Fantastic beasts and where to find them imagines #Fantastic beasts and where to find them imagine #Theseus Scamander imagines #Fantastic beast and where to find them oneshot #fantastic beast and where to find them one shot #Theseus Scamander oneshot #Theseus Scamander one shot #Fluff Alphabet #Requests are open #Theseus Scamander x Reader #FBAWTFT imagine #fbawtft imagine #fbawtft oneshot #fbawtft one shot

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captainsophiestark · 2 years ago

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Pay No Attention to the Magizoologist

Theseus Scamander x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by anon!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Y/N and Newt have been friends for a long time, and for almost as long, Y/N has also had a crush on Newt's older brother Theseus. Years and years later, after their Hogwarts days, several run-ins with Grindelwald, the death of Leta Lestrange, and the wedding of Queenie and Jacob, Newt is still subverting Ministry rules in the name of helping his creatures. And, as usual, Y/N is an accomplice in his schemes. So, when Newt goes running out the door with his creatures and Jacob in tow, it falls to Y/N to distract Theseus and keep him from following Newt's trail. And this distraction might just lead to a bigger change than any of them bargained for.

Word Count: 2,439

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know!"

I looked between Newt and Jacob as they debated, coming off as a little bit more than panicked. They needed to get out of here with Newt's briefcase, without getting held up by the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately for both of them (and me), Theseus was on his way here as we spoke, and there was no doubt he'd slow down the boys' mission.

"Why is your brother coming after us in the first place?" demanded Jacob.

"Because technically, what we're doing here is illegal. The Ministry of Magic has specific procedures they want me to follow before releasing any of my creatures into their natural habitats, but this time, waiting for their bureaucracy to process things will take too long. My newest rescue won't do well waiting around in captivity for longer than they already have," answered Newt. Jacob looked more stressed than he'd been before.

"Oh great!"

"You two get out of here," I said, jumping into the middle of their argument after watching their back-and-forth for a while. "I'll stay here and slow down Theseus."

They both stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at me, incredulous expressions on their faces. After a few beats of silence, the three of us just looking between one another, Newt spoke up.

"Y/N, are you sure?"

"Yeah, Newt, I'm sure. I can distract him just fine, and you guys need to get out of here. You need Jacob for this a little more than you need me, and I can always meet up with you both later."

Newt stared at me for a few moments, then closed all the distance between us to clasp a hand on my shoulder. He met my eyes with an earnest look, and it made my heart warm to see my best friend like that.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"Of course. Just be safe, the both of you."

Newt nodded, his way of promising, before heading out the door, Jacob with him. I watched them go, and then just like that, I was alone in our little loft hideout.

I'd been best friends with Newt for the majority of my life. Since Hogwarts, in fact. He and I got along like wildfire, and had since our first year together at Hogwarts. I would do anything for him. Theseus and I, on the other hand, were a different story.

I'd had a crush on my best friend's older brother for basically our entire time at Hogwarts. Theseus, on the other hand, had barely noticed me beyond my role as his kid brother's friend, and our relationship had only cooled as I'd spent more time helping Newt and less time fawning over him. In the wake of Leta Lestrange's death, however, Newt and Theseus had gotten close again, and I'd done my best to be there for both of them as well. Theseus and I had gotten to the point of actually being able to call each other friends recently, and I only hoped my decision to distract him today in order to give Newt a clean getaway wouldn't ruin that new step in our relationship.

Oh well. Sometimes, there was no other option but to back your crazy best friend's crazy play, no matter the cost.

I paced around the room for a few minutes, trying to brace myself to see Theseus, but before I was anywhere near ready I heard a loud knock at the door. I couldn't help jumping, but then I did my best to quickly compose myself and went to answer it.

"Theseus!" I said, feigning surprise when I saw the serious face of the Auror before me. He kept trying to lean around me to see inside the little apartment Newt and I had turned into a temporary hideout, and I kept leaning to block him. "What a surprise! It's so good to see you, it's been so long!"

"Y/N, where's my brother?" he demanded, his eyes at last settling on me instead of the space behind me. I fought back a gulp as I forced a smile onto my face instead.

"Newt? Uh... I haven't seen Newt in a while now, actually. I thought he was spending some family time with you?"

Theseus gave me a look that clearly said he wasn't buying any of my nonsense.

"We both know he's not spending time with me. He's been hiding out with you while planning some nonsensical scheme that's going to get both him and his muggle friend into deep trouble. Now tell me where he is."

"What? I mean, uh..."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this."

With that, he stepped forward, forcing me to step back or else be run straight into. He pushed into the living room, leaving me standing by the open door behind him, then poked his head into the kitchen in search of Newt.

"Newt! Come out, we need to talk!" he called. He stopped, apparently deciding Newt wasn't in the kitchen, before heading into the living room. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door.

"Please, come right in and make yourself comfortable," I deadpanned. Theseus just shot me a look over his shoulder as he continued to move around my living room. I huffed a sigh, but got dragged back into action as Theseus made his way across the room, getting closer to the back door Newt and Jacob had disappeared out of. If he got there, to the spot they'd left from, odds were significantly higher he'd be able to track them down, especially with a little magical help.

I just needed to buy Newt a little more time. He and Jacob were catching a portkey in twenty minutes, and if Theseus couldn't get to them before that, they'd be in the clear.

"So, uh, the Ministry is still trying to prevent the release of some animals, yeah? That's uh... that's what this whole thing is about?"

"My brother is trying to release dangerous animals into the wild," said Theseus, not halting his search through my living room. I took a few steps closer to him as they spoke. "Keeping them safe in his sanctuary is one thing, but turning them loose on the world is another..."

"I've met all of those animals, none of them seem particularly dangerous to me," I countered, crossing the room all the way to Theseus now. I moved in front of him, standing between him and his search of the top of my fireplace mantle. His eyes landed on me, an exasperated expression on his face.

"Y/N, please. Newt just needs to get a permit, and go through the proper channels. Then he can release whatever animals he wants."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. "Oh please, you and I both know the Ministry will take ages. Some of those animals will be much better off if they're released now, and not a year from now."

"All the same, I need to do my job and get my brother back. Then maybe I can help him get his permit expedited, but until then, he has to wait. So, if you're done attempting to stall me..."

With that, he turned to start hunting through the rest of my living room, following Newt's trail. I moved after him, hovering over his every step and trying to erase any trace of Newt when I caught it before Theseus.

"Actually, I'm not done stalling you. I think we should talk a little more. Now that we're back to being friendly, you know, I think-"

"Nice try, Y/N, but it's not going to work," said Theseus, a slight smile on his face as he continued to make his way through my living room. "I can talk to you and search for my brother at the same time."

I looked around the room for some sign of inspiration to slow down Theseus, but started to panic as he headed for the door Newt and Jacob had left through. He flung it open and was about to walk out, which meant I had to do something, now.

"Wait!" I cried, rushing across the room towards him. He paused with a sigh and turned back to me, wand in-hand and ready to track Newt and Jacob.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, but I really can't stick around right now. I have a job to do."

"Okay, but just one second. This is important!" I said, slipping into the doorway between him and his target. He leaned forward and into my space, and I couldn't help feeling a little giddy at his proximity. I blame that feeling for clouding my judgment and impacting my next decision.

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. I panicked, trying to think of something, but I couldn't focus on anything beyond the handsome, wonderful man in front of me and the fact that I could NOT let him through the door. He sighed and took a half step forward, placing his hand gently on my waist to move me aside, and I did the only thing that came to mind.

I grabbed Theseus' shoulders, leaned up, and kissed him full on the mouth.

My brain short circuited all over again as we kissed, and I swear fireworks surrounded us. Then, a moment later, reality set in. I jerked away from Theseus and my hand flew to my mouth, horror sinking in at my actions. I couldn't believe I'd just done that.

"Theseus..." I looked up at him to find him staring blankly off into the space just over my shoulder, looking completely shocked. "Oh my God... I am so, SO sorry!"

Theseus didn't respond, which got rid of any of the remaining fireworks lingering around me. I couldn't believe I'd just done that. Theseus and I had just started to get to a place where we had a good relationship, and I'd probably just destroyed it.

"Theseus, please, I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have done that. I just... I needed to keep you from going after Newt, and... and it was the only thing I could think to do. Oh God." I facepalmed. Then, against the rational part of my brain screaming to let me give it control again, I kept talking. "I- well, I've had a crush on you since we were kids, and we were standing so close together and it's like my mind went blank, and it was the only thing I could think of-"

My ramble finally, mercifully got cut off as Theseus wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back to his side of the doorway before pushing me up against the wall right next to it. Before I could get my brain restarted, he was kissing me, with a level of passion and emotion that I'd only ever dreamed about.

Once I got over my own shock, I wasted no time kissing him back. I tangled my hands in his hair as his grip tightened around my waist, and we stayed like that for a long few moments before finally coming up for air.

We were breathing hard as we met each others' eyes, our faces barley an inch apart. He seemed as shocked as me that we'd actually just done that, and I couldn't help the joyful laugh that bubbled out of me.

"Theseus... what was that?" I asked, a smile steadily growing on my face as I fondly ran my hand through his hair again. He smiled back at me, a slightly sheepish grin on his face even though he looked just as happy as I did.

"I've had feelings for you for a few months now," he breathed. "I didn't know how to tell you, since we'd just gotten back on friendly terms and I didn't want to ruin anything..."

"I've been doing the same thing," I said. We shared disbelieving laughs, and I surveyed Theseus fondly while he looked me up and down with the same care. Theseus leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, the smile still on his face and his voice still a little breathless when he spoke.

"So... I kind of need to go chase my brother now, but... any chance you'd let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?"

I beamed back at him, leaning up to give him a light, soft kiss before responding.

"I'd love that, Theseus."

"Good! Great. Then... it's a date."

"It's a date."

We shared another smile, Theseus still looking a little giddy as he at last stepped away from me and moved towards the door again. The sweet smile turned into more of a smirk as he took one step outside, on his way to follow the path his brother had taken not long ago.

"So... you're not going to try to stop me going after Newt anymore?" he asked, a little of the confident swagger I loved so much back in his tone and body language.

"No," I said with a shrug. "He's gotten far enough away by now that you can't catch him."

Theseus groaned and looked up at the sky, then settled his gaze back on me.

"I hope you're wrong, Y/N. But if you're not... you're buying the first round of drinks as compensation."

"You're on," I replied with a grin of my own. "Have fun on your wild goose chase! Don't let the Ministry people get you down. Newt's doing the right thing."

Theseus just sighed, although he wasn't quite able to keep a fond smile off his face. Whether it was for me, his brother, or the both of us, I wasn't sure.

He gave me one last smile and nod before finally heading all the way out the door, shutting it behind him as he resumed his work. I smiled after him and slowly sank down the wall, my fingers brushing over my lips where Theseus' had just been. It didn't seem quite real to me that the past few minutes had really happened, but I knew for a fact it was real. And that I had a date with Theseus Scamander tomorrow night.

Newt was never going to believe me when I told him the story. Helping him with his crazy shenanigans had never turned out so well.

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big-tiddy-bi · 2 years ago

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This is part 2 of the Danny yelling at the justice league fic. It was going to be a one shot but @phoenixdemonqueen called one of the lines I wrote cool, and I started squealing, flapping my arms and jumping around my kitchen so I had to write more <3 also hydrate or diedrate

Tw for body horror, idk if it counts but better safe than sorry <3

——————

Greek mythology has many myths on of which is Theseus and Pirithous. Pirithous full of hubris decided, with the help of Theseus to kidnap the goddess Kore and try to forcefully marry her. Before they can enact this honestly genius plan, that was sarcasm by the way, her husband traps them in chairs with snakes and leaves them there for the furies to torture.

Most stories have a lesson And the lesson of this one is very important. Don’t Be Stupid, Stupid.

Currently John Constantine was trying and failing to tell the justice league. “Are you fucking stupid” and deadman told them “to fight someone from the infinite realms is suicidal”.

After Danny’s stunt most of the non-magical justice league wanted to hunt him down to “set the record straight”, when they said that John and deadman left the room.

On the day the justice league stated in the email, they stood at a sign stating “welcome to Amity, the most haunted place in America”.

One of the most loved groups of people, the justice league walked through the city like ghosts. They were used to stairs and whispers, but usually of worship and maybe small insults but not like this. Could feel the distain in the air, like the city itself was trying to strangle them.

A tall blonde teen in a varsity jacket screamed at them to leave, that they weren’t wanted, but with much more explicit language.

Flash tried to make a joke, and the resulting glare from the rest of the league could have killed him on the spot, and several of the residents through things at him after they heard him.

They walked up to the building that held mayor’s office. Batman’s face was unreadable, unlike Superman’s whose expression told all his feelings of worry.

In the building they heard several voices, on of which matched phantom, ridiculing the mayor. Who just kept sighing in utter annoyance.

Wonder Woman opened the door to the office to be met with a comedic scene. Phantom floating in one corner of the room flipping of the mayor, who was also flipping him off in return. A goth girl with vine tattoos trailing from her wrist up her arms was slipping some papers onto the table, with the title mandatory vegan in bold letters while the mayor was distracted. two boys one with a tattoo around his eye similar to the eye of Ra, the other had on a shirt that said “I know all your secret identities, don’t test me” both sitting on beanbags playing a video game that was projected on of the walls of the office. one girl with beautiful curly hair was coming through the window arms filled with take out bags, a couple from a Chinese restaurant and the others a fast food place. A woman with red hair was helping her in, holding a tray full of drinks.

All of them turned their heads in unison, phantom and the two tattooed individuals eyes glowing green. the mayor and the redheaded woman’s glowed green.

The window person finished coming through, and set the bags down on the mayor’s desk next to the drinks. The pulled a toxic green knife from behind her back, the redhead woman got into a defensive position her cheeks torn open so she could her hundreds of teeth, razor sharp. The mayor leaned forward in his chair, placing a hand on his desk, mouth turned up in a grin, showing of his sharp canines.

The red headed boy quickly moved to the back of the room, while his video game partner stood up, holes appearing on his body, one of his eyes rolling back into his head leaving another hole, all dripping with sand. The goth woman slowly grew liken and moss in her shoulders, it slowly crawled up one side of her face, she opened her mouth and vines sprung from it, wrapping around her head ripping her skin a flower came out replacing her face.

Phantom was the worst, he grew into a vaguely human shape thousands of mouths opened up on his body, some in other places around the room.

Phantom asked in a distorted voice “ were our warnings not enough for you?”

Batman spoke up “we came here to” but he was interrupted.

The sand being spoke this time. Angerly “ to gravel at our feet for forgiveness, to beg in a futile attempt to win back fame?”

Batman responded again “no, we are here” but he was interrupted again this time by the flower woman

“Without our permission, without the permission of the public, you governed by none.” The flower petals began to pulse “ you who could be saving people, come here to plead like dogs praying for table scraps” she yelled.

“We are here to talk” Batman finally got to say.

The redheaded boy responded this time. “ Bruce Wayne, these actions are unbecoming of you”

The entire justice league was taken aback. “Don’t be surprised” the redheaded woman said “you and your kin’s bodies may be living, but you belong to death the same as us”

“Let’s hear them out” the mayor said “after that you can end them in anyway you wish” he was bluffing of course, none of the heroes on team phantom would ever kill someone, but the justice league didn’t need to know that.

The curly haired woman spoke “ so, if you want to talk then talk”

Superman answered this time “ we never got your messages, we only found them while cleaning out the servers”

What sounded like every voice ever heard replied “what do you mean” the voice, voices? Sounded surprised.

“Exactly that” Wonder Woman answered.

“Someone hacked into our system and deliberately hid all communications from amity” the flash continued

Phantom appeared behind Batman. Intangible hand going into his throat and wrapping around his trachea “if you are lying, I will destroy each of your families”

Phantom floated through Batman to get back in front. In the blink of an eye everyone was back to normal.

“Tell us about this breach” the mayor said crossing his arms. “ so we can take care of it”

————————-

Tell me what you think <3 this is my first part two

@skulld3mort-1fan @mynameisnotlaura @justwannabecat @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @thegatorsgoose @yjfk @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @iglowinggemma28 @bleuyellow93 @aconitewolfsbane @fox-sama97 @catmeowbored @stargirl1331

#fanfic #danny fenton #danny phantom #sorry for spelling mistakes #dc x dp #dp x dc #part 2 #I thought making vlad more annoying and less murder your father vibes would be fun #they we’re having a we have/going to get ghost powers club meeting #Eldridge Danny phantom

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 5 months ago

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this was pulled out of my head on the Discord and decided to share here ^-^

My ranking of godly parents

1) Apollo

this just goes without saying. do i even need to explain?

ONWARDS!

2) Dionysus

cried when his son was killed. asked percy to keep other son safe. is seen eating with his sons in CHB.

3) Aphrodite

helps Piper and her friends on their quest. helps the Seven on their quest. the only bit of bad parenting i remember is forcing piper into clothes she doesn't like.

also Aphrodite is a good mom in the mythology so

4) Hera

#unpopular opinion with wider fandom

Juno is Jason's mom. fight me.

She is actively mourning his death, something Zeus DID NOT do, and helped Jason out as much as she could.

also Hera gets way too much flak from the fandom

5) Hephaestus

keeps an eye on his kids. points taken off for little contact with them, but it's kinda understandable because of his social awkwardness.

6) Ares

#unpopular opinion with wider fandom

"he was gonna hit Clarisse!" was he though? or is it implied Clarisse was raised in an abusive home so when Ares made any sudden movements she would react like she would be hit?

also he gives her not one, but TWO electric spears and his blessing. he provides her armor when she has none.

Ares is a good dad fight me. also it's canon in mythology

Mars is also a good dad, but everyone already knows that.

7) Poseidon

#unpopular opinion with wider fandom

first thing he tells percy is that he wishes he was never born. granted, it was more foot-in-mouth but come on. you've had kids for a WHILE Poseidon you should know not to say things like that.

points for saving Percy a few times (The Arch, Princess Andromeda) but it's probably really easier to give a helping hand to your mortal kids when you only have one mortal kid who hasn't done anything to screw up his or your name. eyes what happened with Theseus

i have other points of contention but i'll stop here.

8) Hades

#unpopular opinion with wider fandom

said he wished Bianca was alive instead of Nico. granted he regrets it so points there but YOU DO NOT SAY THAT TO A CHILD DAMMIT

i don't consider tsats canon but what the fuck was up with that shit. be glad i didn't consider that or he'd be sent towards the very bottom of this list for sending his son to hell on purpose.

9) Hermes

#unpopular opinion with wider fandom

bro fixated WAY too much on Luke and ignored his other kids. coughs in Didn't Claim Chris coughs in Ignored Connor and Travis when they were right in front of him coughs

10) Demeter

absent parent. didn't bother to help Meg or Lityerses, resulting them being raised in abusive households (Nero & Midas/Commodus)

11) Athena

in the words of Stixlx on the Discord: "she sends her kids to die like soldiers rather than kids"

12) Zeus

an abuser is an abuser. therefore he gets dead last.

he also saved thalia but didn't save jason, so there's that too.

#the trials of apollo #trials of apollo #ramblings of an oracle #pjo apollo #pjo dionysus #pjo aphrodite #pjo hera #pjo hephaestus #pjo ares #pjo poseidon #pjo hades #pjo hermes #pjo demeter #pjo athena #pjo zeus #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus

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galadriel1010 · 19 days ago

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Why most of what you've heard about NaNoWriMo is wrong and why that matters.

So, word on the streets is that the NaNoWriMo organisation have driven the challenge into the ground since they took it over, and are now promoting generative AI as an acceptable way to win the challenge. If your eyebrows aren't raising at even part of that, buckle up

Let's start with the easy one. Was NaNoWriMo better before the organisation took it over? No. That's not a matter of opinion, it's just a matter of chronology. The NaNoWriMo organisation was founded as the Office of Letters and Light in 2005, by the people who started the event in 1999. There was no NaNoWriMo before the organisation. Hell, the organisation pre-dates a lot of the people complaining that it was better before it took over.

So straight up, there's a fairly blatant piece of misinformation that's going round as fact.

Is NaNoWriMo promoting AI to win? Also no, but with more of a hand waggle. The organisation's stance is, as it has been since I started doing it (2004, by the way, so you could argue that I do remember the pre-org days), is "Sure you can but why would you?" Back then you had to write your own algorithm, and quite frankly it was easier to write the novel. But the prizes were better back then. Once upon a time you could get a free bound proof copy of your novel and stuff. Now you just get bragging rights and 50% off Scrivener. So you can, but why would you?

Is NaNoWriMo sponsored by generative AI? Eh, sort of. One of their big sponsors is ProWritingAid, a fiction editing tool like Word's spell checker but with more tools and gizmos. It is AI, much like any spell checker, and like most spell checkers it is more A than I. It has some very useful bits, and some frustrating bits. It will not, however, write your novel for you. You have to do that yourself, and then it will suggest ways to improve it. Sometimes they are useful, sometimes they are very much not.

Why does all of this matter? Two reasons.

1. This idea (reminder, factually incorrect idea) has spread like wildfire, and fanned the flames of vitriolic harassment of the organisation's staff. At best it's just been unpleasant, at worst ableist and racist. The attitude of "If they don't want to be harassed, they shouldn't do things we disapprove of" is a familiar one that is bad enough when it's based on facts. When it's based on misinformation that no one can be bothered to do a 30 second check on, it's even worse.

2. 30 seconds. That's all it would take to go and check the NaNoWriMo sponsors page and see that there is no generative AI there. Or to go and read the Wikipedia page and follow the ship of Theseus and see that NaNoWriMo is the organisation. It's so easy. And people can't be bothered. And this at a time when we know that misinformation is rife and dangerous. If this passed your sniff test, what else have you passed on without checking?

We all need to get better at this. It was easy for me because I was there.gif. I remember those halcyon days. If I didn't, would I have nodded along? I hope not, but hope isn't enough. We've got to check.

#NaNoWriMo #misinformation

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lacollectionneuse1967 · 1 year ago

Text

slip of the tongue part 4 - the last train home

Theseus Scamander x Reader

summary: you are kidnapped by grindelwald and theseus is stranded alone, unaware, at a train station--he's left to believe that you do not love him and you are left in enemy custody with no one coming to save you. the world always had a way of finding out what you loved and taking it from you. but you always found a way to hold onto hope until your hands were bloody, and you always hoped you'd still make the last train home...

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: hurt-comfort. romance.

warnings: none

part one / part two / part three / part four

author's note: yeah i wrote another long chapter again sorryyyyy! also there are no sexy times in this one haha.. this is actually the last part of this fic! taking requests for other theseus fics after. hope you enjoy :)

November, King's Cross Station

"Don't come. Don't come," Theseus thinks. "Be safe and happy and do not come."

And then, with a selfish tug of panic, he relinquishes the hideous truth of his desire:

"Come. Please come."

Theseus is standing at Platform 9 3/4, craning his neck over the crowds of wizards in their mismatched regalia, some in whimsical velvet robes and long caps and others in London business suits. The existence of the magical world alongside this one always did seem to him an impractical, impossible thing. Clunky and disjointed parts clacking together.

Until, until...

You. Muggle girl, born and bred, but you were the best wizard he'd ever met. The whole world seemed to make sense, suddenly, with your introduction into his life, these two worlds, magical and unmagical, were contained within your very existence, perfectly.

For the first time in his life, the thought of you brings him pain.

"She'll come," he thinks again. Banish the pain. Banish all that isn't useful or good.

The train whistle blows, his wristwatch reads 7:14. There's hardly anyone on the platform anymore.

He knew, knew that you wanted him too. Loved him. He saw it in your beautiful, hopeful face every time he reached out and touched you, you were so willing to fall into his touch, to surrender yourself. Sweet angel in his bed, in his arms.

"Last call!" A train attendant leans out from the car up ahead to shout it. Misery snakes around his heart. It's an icy and menacing revelation, that you might not choose to be with him.

He has never asked much of you, was always afraid to as your boss and your friend. But in these last days he's realized he's underestimated you, critically. He was so afraid of scaring you off he hadn't recognized that you don't scare easy.

He glances at the train attendant's cinched expression and then around the platform again, with blind urgency, eyes darting to every face, hardly seeing the strangers at all.

"I didn't push her too far this time. She'll come. She'll come."

"Last call!" The train attendant calls again, irritably. She's doing him a favor by waiting at all.

When Theseus steps up into the train car he politely apologizes to her. He even smiles charitably. She returns it with a blush, but rolls her eyes, taking his ticket.

He settles down and pulls out his book to read. Orders a coffee. Nothing is out of the ordinary.

Theseus has always been a sensible man, a capable one. He'll tell Newt you didn't want him. He'll put his energy and efforts into the resistance against Grindelwald. He looks fine, and maybe one day he will be.

He knows, logically, that you will be too. But he cannot deny that part of him was left on that platform tonight, and he cannot deny that it might remain there for good.

----

January

The woman lingers in the shop, her gaze flitting from shelf to shelf without much intention.

Theseus knows that he's ceased to be a novelty. Small as Hogsmeade was, he's been living there for a little over two months. The village's residents no longer looked to him or Newt, or Newt's "friends," with any curiosity or suspicion. If the woman is loitering around, it's because she wants to speak to him.

"Mrs. Beaumont," he inquires, trying to be as patient as he can, wiping his hands off on a rag before placing them flat on the counter. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh!" She seems relieved he's broached conversation, walking eagerly to the front counter that he's behind. "Mr. Scamander, I just wanted to say how very happy we are to have you and your brother here. Apart from the students, it always gives me hope, seeing young people and newcomers moving here."

He nods warmly, offers a closed-lip smile, but says nothing. He knows Mrs. Beaumont is one for long, chatty, pointless conversation. If he struck one up he'd never hear the end of it.

Theseus wants to close up for the evening. He wants to return to his living quarters at the inn. The potion shop was supposed to have closed ten minutes ago.

From Head Auror to humble assistant shopkeeper. If he thinks about that disparity too much he starts to go insane. Veritably insane. But he tries to rid himself of useless pride, something he'd been so occupied with before. Tries to remember what he's doing here, what's at stake. The position at the potion shop was just a cover. The evenings and long nights--that's when he, Dumbledore, and Newt did their real work.

Mrs. Beaumont shuffles out of the shop, made shy by her confession.

It's unseasonably warm for mid-January, the snow patchy, in wet-looking, thin sheets of ice spread over yellowing grass. Most days the sky is mercifully blue, bright and pale. But the sun still sets early, and it's a purple evening by the time Theseus locks up.

"Dammit," he curses softly. The key gets jammed in the lock sometimes. He's sure there's some way this could be made more efficient through magic.

The potion shop where he works is at the very edge of the village. The back window overlooks a white, roaring river that crumbles rockily down the hillside towards the Black Lake. Theseus starts his walk back towards the inn, back into town, unseeingly.

He knows the way so well by now that sometimes he just winds up in his room, with no memory of the walk at all.

Theseus looks forward to meeting up with his younger brother tonight.

Their relationship has improved, considerably, within the last two months. At nights when they have no other work to do and no Grindelwald-related assignments from Dumbledore, Theseus helps Newt on his book about magical beasts. Newt's notes were these soul-crushingly disorganized collections of writings and sketches, his findings all haphazardly piled together in a barely-bound journal. Theseus had been helping him turn his work into a more readable format, maybe something that could one day be published. Theseus had forgotten how much he enjoyed working with magical creatures in school, had forgotten that he was quite good at it too.

A loose paper currently adhering itself to his boot breaks him out of his reverie. It crunches when he tries to walk. He stops to kick it off, unsuccessfully. It looks quite old, half-torn and filthily brown, and a bit frozen as well. He leans down to pick it from his shoe with a grimace, lifting it up in curiosity.

WANTED.

The image of your face on the paper is enough to make him stop walking completely, stop breathing. At first he thinks he's hallucinating, he'd always known you'd come back to haunt him.

He's in an alleyway, one he doesn't take often, he doesn't know what compelled him to take this route today. He looks up in horror at the grey brick walls. They're plastered with the same, tattered poster of you, the one calling for your arrest, who knows how long they've been up.

WANTED: Have You Seen This Witch? Y/N Y/L/N.

Contact the Ministry of Magic immediately if you have any information concerning her whereabouts.

The posted reward money makes his stomach turn. But the sight of your face, that does something far worse to him.

The photo they used of you is from your first day at the Ministry. A cropped and zoomed-in image of you smiling, with eye-welling pride, in front of the huge wooden door to the Auror Office. In the image you move after smiling for the picture, you look around with an anxious, unsure sort of happiness. He draws his thumb over the dirty paper, the picture of your face.

This isn't possible. This can't be real.

He runs to the inn. His lungs are burning from the cold, dry air, but he doesn't stop. He pushes through the doors and Aberforth stands up from one of the tables by the bar, startled.

"What do you think you're-"

Theseus ignores him, breaking into the back room and falling to his knees before the fireplace. Wand shaking in his hand, he places a Floo Call to Thatcher Birchen. He's an Auror. More importantly, he was Theseus's friend from his Hufflepuff days. He wouldn't betray Theseus, not willingly.

When Thatcher's face materializes in the coals of the fireplace it looks unhappy to see him.

"Theseus, you shouldn't be calling me here. You didn't leave us on the best terms-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I wouldn't reach out if it wasn't an emergency."

"I'm not keen to talk to you regardless," Thatcher snaps. But he doesn't end the Floo Call.

Theseus realizes with a pang that Thatcher is scared. But Theseus doesn't understand why. He's diligently avoided all news press and talk about the Ministry these last two months, hoping to avoid you. No Ministry talk, no new editions of The Daily Prophet, just work with his hands. Moving a rag over the wooden counters at the potion shop, running the numbers and taking up accounting. Restocking boxes of ingredients.

This seems to him, now, to have been a great and careless mistake.

He thought you'd be running the Auror Office now, taking names, that Newt could reach out to you at a crucial, appropriate time.

"Did..." He has to ready himself to say your name aloud. "Thatcher, did something happen to Y/N? I saw a flyer today that said she's missing, that she is wanted under suspicion of espionage. Did something happen while she was working as an Auror?"

Theseus doesn't want to reveal too much. He's worried bringing you to the gala in Berlin and the Mausoleum in France that weekend in November might have already incriminated you.

"Theseus," Thatcher explains in a hushed tone. "Y/N Y/L/N never filled the post at all. I-I heard something about a potential offer the day you quit, but she disappeared that very night."

Theseus can hardly hear the rest of what Thatcher is saying, his whole body has gone numb.

"No one saw her in the weeks after her disappearance. It was assumed she'd taken up with Grindelwald. It had already been proven that she'd stolen some important documents from the Ministry Archives-"

"How?" Theseus's voice breaks on the word, miserably.

Thatcher sighs sympathetically.

"They found her wand and analyzed it. Found a spell that made copies of documents associated with the Ministry Archives. Hence the assumption, hence the wanted posters they put up a while ago..."

Theseus knows this could never be true. You and Grindelwald.

"What do you mean by 'found her wand''?" He asks with sudden, horrific clarity. You've been missing this whole time. Without a wand.

"That same night you resigned. They found it in front of Kings Cross Station."

The air is sapped from the room, Theseus unthinkingly flings some fresh coals onto the Floo Call with a limp palm, it collapses the shape of Thatcher's face and the call crumbles into nothing. He didn't say goodbye, he has to get some air.

He's so taken aback, reeling with nausea, that he has to brace himself against the wall with both hands. He keels over and dry heaves for a few seconds.

Two months you'd been missing.

And they'd found your wand at the station. You'd been coming, coming for him. This whole time he'd thought...

Newt bursts into the room, Aberforth is standing behind him looking uncertain, alert.

"Theseus! Aberforth told me--But... What's going on?!"

Theseus stands and closes the door so it's just the two of them. He's wearing the apathetic, half-conscious expression of a sleepwalker.

Newt takes a seat in the wooden chair.

"Newt... Grindelwald has her. He's had her this whole time. Since the day I quit the Ministry."

"I..." Newt's reaction doesn't satisfy Theseus. He looks troubled, but only vaguely.

"Newt," Theseus starts again with newfound frustration, passion. "While we were laying low, writing your book, restocking shelves, while we were brought up to the castle at Christmastime, Y/N has been in his custody! Tortured, starving, alone, I don't know. When I think about it, it kills me. I can't handle it-"

"We don't know if she's even alive, Theseus," Newt says this rationally, albeit unhappily. "Grindelwald doesn't keep prisoners unless they are valuable, important. She might be dead. When I heard she wasn't promoted to an Auror in November-"

"November?"

Cold rushes into Theseus's veins. There is no silence as deadly as the one that follows. He can feel his blood crystallize and crack, it’s too bodily a sensation to even call it shock. It’s betrayal.

“You knew?”

All those months collapse into nothing, they mean nothing to him.

For so long Newt kept his distance, felt misunderstood by Theseus and their mother for the path he chose in life. And yes, perhaps Theseus did misunderstand, did judge him for it, never took his career or his interest in magical beasts seriously. Maybe he was berating at times, suffocating with his good, brotherly intentions, and they’d drifted apart as adults.

But these last eight weeks in Hogsmeade they’d mended that, delicately, bruisingly, as one mends small bones, with small intrusions and concessions. Quiet conversations, sessions where Theseus helped him turn his work into something resembling a book, living together for the first time since they were children.

But that means nothing to Theseus now, nothing.

Newt doesn’t meet his eyes, the shame too heavy to lift his head. He’s sitting, hunched over in his chair like it is mounted to the floor.

“No,” Newt breathes out. “No, Theseus. I knew she never became Head Auror. I knew it went to… to someone else, but I didn’t know she was missing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice is torn-sounding. More hurt than enraged. "You didn’t even suspect—you didn’t reach out once?! I don’t believe you.”

“I swear it to you—“

“You should’ve told me.”

“You told me she didn’t love you!” Newt looks up at last, eyes wild with the panic of a cornered animal. “That she didn’t choose you! I-I don’t know what we could’ve done for her even if we did know…”

That there is a new wound, it blackens Theseus’s heart to hear it.

“I know Dumbledore knows where Grindelwald is. Christ, it was Y/N who stole those documents from the Ministry archives, those maps! We can go to her."

Newt just keeps shaking his head at the floor. It makes Theseus want to go up to him and shake him.

"If it were me, Newt, you would’ve come for me….”

“That’s different. We don’t do these sort of rescue missions, they’re too dangerous. Grindelwald, he—he’s untouchable.”

“You make me ashamed. You have always, always been braver than me. I didn’t realize it before, when we were kids, but you have. You were never a coward, Newt. Don’t let this fight change you.”

“Theseus, if we try to rescue her we will lose everything. I cannot risk this, cannot risk them.”

No one else is in the room but Theseus knows who he means. Jacob. Tina. And the other ragtag insurgents who have found their way into Newt’s crew over the last two months, who have decided to set aside their lives to fight.

Newt is staring at him pleadingly. Theseus feels he doesn’t recognize him anymore, feels as if he is standing in the room all alone. The space between them stretches and stretches until Theseus speaks again.

“No,” Theseus’s throat is dry, his voice subdued. He shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t ask you to… I’ll go alone.”

“Theseus, please don’t—“

He turns and leaves, cutting the conversation short.

This has never been negotiable. He let you slip away from him once, asked you to, encouraged you to in his last letter.

He would not let you be lost again.

———

You almost miss being tortured. Well, no, that isn't true.

But anything seems preferable to this ever-expanding, engulfing nothingness. After that first week of torture and questioning in which you revealed nothing they wanted to hear (thankful that Newt had kept you in the dark), none of Grindelwald's followers entered your cell. They don't even feed you often enough to keep you alive, but it seems more like carelessness, derision for your muggleborn blood status, than like they are trying to kill you.

If it weren't for Queenie you would've starved to death.

The first time Queenie slipped into your cell to sneak you some bread you tried to kill her. Her reading your thoughts and reciting them aloud, frantically, as if they would save her or prove her allyship, actually did save her. She stunned you into a dumbfounded stupor. You'd never met someone with her abilities before.

She was a funny woman. A devoted follower of Grindelwald who revealed little and had an oversensitive disposition, but you soon grew to appreciate her clandestine visits. She was kind. Remarkably so. Not only for feeding you, but for sitting and talking to you at all. That was its own kindness.

You thought you knew loneliness before, but this...

You knew your mind was a hostile place, even before you were brought here. But being left alone with yourself was the worst torture Grindelwald could've thought up.

You distract yourself with your less injurious thoughts, and avoid thoughts of Theseus at all costs.

Those are so painful you dare not think his name. In your mind, a blotted, blacked-out figure remains in his stead, a hole you've torn out yourself. In those first days, you'd repeated his name out loud, like a mantra, and thought of him liberally and without pause, even while you were being tortured.

"Theseus. Theseus. Theseus. Come save me. Please, come find me."

What waste. No one was coming. All you had ahead of you was this nothingness.

Sometimes, lights move outside the slit in your wall--too pathetic of an opening to be called a window. You can’t even see out of it, it just lets in cold air. Those shadows and flashes of light are the only color in your world. Sometimes when you look down at yourself, even your hands look black and white, made sepia and sickly gray.

The lights are sometimes orange, swooping lights, like arcs of fire being dropped overhead. Sometimes green, watery, glowing darkly like moonstone or bioluminescence. What you see aren't the spells themselves, but just the brilliance they cast into your room from the courtyard.

You don't know what Grindelwald is doing, what sort of spells are producing these bursting, sporadic hues.

You lie sideways on the floor and stare at them playing out against your wall, soft glowing spots sinking and rising.

They remind you of the magical lights, bobbing and hanging mid-air, that the Ministry decorated the Atrium ceiling with for the annual Christmas party. That was one year ago, though it feels like a past life, or a dream...

----

One Year Ago, December

You'd never heard the Atrium so full of people and life. It was usually bustling with conversation and noise, but this sort of noise, the happy noise of laughter and popping champagne bottles and high-spirited chatter, that was new.

You crossed your arms, glass in hand, watching contentedly from the sidelines. You never knew how to conduct yourself when Theseus was with Leta, you strangely felt as if you'd be caught doing something wrong. So you endeavored to avoid them both.

And besides, it had shocked you, the dull knife-turn of pain you felt watching him with her, talking to her in the corner at the beginning of the party.

You'd gone mute for the night, head swimming, gazing at the decorative lights floating overhead. All your thoughts felt buoyant, distant and hard to grasp, bobbing in and out. You knew you were spacing out, but you couldn't stop, maybe it was the mulled wine.

You had just turned down the promotion earlier that day.

"We're going to you directly to ask if you want it. We wanted to ask you first," the department head had said with great satisfaction, like he was delivering you a personal gift. "We know if it were up to Theseus he'd have you by his side 'till he retires!"

The last part was said with a half-joking laugh, but you'd tilted your head in confusion.

"Sorry, what?"

The man scoffed.

"He likes you very, very much, Y/N," the man said, like it was obvious. "He's made that explicitly clear to his colleagues who were hoping to share you as an assistant early on. It was his express wish that you work with him alone."

'He likes you very, very much.'

The idea of being liked, chosen by him... It was like a shooting star crashing over your head, light falling around you in bright shards, fatal, dazzling, undeserved.

You startled when you felt a hand on your forearm.

"Y/N," Theseus said, pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are."

He'd been looking for you. The thought made your heart soar, felt like being chosen all over again.

There was a wild merriment in his eyes. You couldn't tell if he was tipsy or just happy to see you.

"Here I am," you echoed in confirmation.

"Dance with me?" Before you could answer he cautiously pulled both of your hands, winding his fingers through yours and slowly guiding your arms in and out to the rhythm of the song.

You couldn't help but give into him, smile, laugh, you were never not going to say yes.

"Where's Leta?" You didn't want to ask, to ruin the moment, but it seemed right to.

Theseus shook his head and made a tutting, disappointed noise, twirling you around.

You dipped your head back and the lights whirled overhead, too radiant to be stars.

"She left. She doesn't like to dance. Doesn't like parties, actually."

As if afraid you were going to leave him, as if just to hear your laugh again, he spun you once more, more vigorously.

"Dance with me, Y/N," he bemoaned.

You laughed again and let yourself be spun and caught by his arms.

"Aren't I doing that now?"

"Good," he said resolutely, pleased. His smile was infectious. "Don't stop."

You felt like a girl again, weak in the limbs and susceptible to all sorts of hope, the dangerous kind. His hands in yours, the dazzled look in his eyes as they beheld you.. You regretted nothing.

"I won't leave until you tell me to, sir." You added in the honorific sarcastically, to keep the tone light, but the look on your face was terribly earnest. "I promise. You'll have to send me away."

----------

You don't remember falling asleep while looking at the lights on your wall. You didn't mean to think about the Christmas party, about him.

More often than not, more often than even the nightmares about rabid dogs and black water rising and the orphanage, you dream about the last train home. About the night your parents died.

Your family was poor. You did not hold this against them. You were too young to do anything but love your parents dearly, indiscriminately. You were barely seven years old, but you worked most days in the factories of East London and were happy to help, to not be burdensome like the hungry, needy children in story books.

That evening after work you'd been distracted, playing with a stray dog with some other children, and you missed the last train home. You resolved to sleep at the station, flat on the ground of the platform, and take the first train in the morning.

Your parents had gone out looking for you and were killed in a nondescript alleyway, found with their empty pockets turned-out. You dream about that night, that platform on the London Overground, you fear missing that train.

And, now, that is not the only missed train that haunts you.

Someone's here.

You wake, instantly. Your eyes open with a dispassionate immediacy.

There's no train. Fingers twitching, you instinctually reach for your wand for what must be the thousandth time, to protect yourself. Its absence feels full-circle almost.

You remember how you couldn't sleep your first year at Hogwarts, you'd stumble to class with tormented little dark circles under your eyes. You were too terrified to sleep, kept fearing you'd wake up and be back at the orphanage, that it would all be taken away from you if you didn't keep your eyes open.

Strangely, since you arrived in this cell, you haven't had any trouble sleeping at all. You sleep most of the day away curled up on the floor like a baby.

"Queenie," you mutter, sitting up falteringly. "Watching me sleep, are you?"

Queenie is standing with perfect posture in the corner of your cell, by the door, wringing her hands.

"I don't know how you sleep like that, on the floor..." She seems genuinely upset when you look up at her. “You must miss all your things. Your home. Your family… I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

You shake your head slowly.

“No. I was born with nothing, nothing. This room it feels…” You glance around, as if seeing it through Queenie’s eyes, seeing it for the very first time.

Metal chair with a missing leg in the corner. Filthy blanket on the floor. It’s more barren than awful, anyone could’ve lived here.

“It feels familiar to me," you admit.

Queenie says nothing, eyes wide. Since you met her here, she’s never seemed at ease, never seems to know what to say. For a moment the two of you just sit there in vacant silence, neither of you really present.

"You don't say his name anymore."

You don't even want to acknowledge the comment, you stare at the corner of the wall and hope what she's said will just go away if you don't.

"Theseus," she says explanatorily, as if you didn't understand her. The word is an affront from her mouth, worse than a slap, it makes your stomach twist. You feel exposed. "Do you...Do you feel betrayed by him? That he hasn't come..."

You close your eyes to gather your bearings.

"No," you say. "It would be very strange, almost a pleasure, if anyone in the world could betray me. Stab me in the back. I don't trust or know anyone well enough for that. I wish."

You're trying to sound self-deprecating, maybe even funny, but there's no energy behind it.

Queen looks at you sadly, sympathetically. Sometimes you forget about her ability to hear your thoughts. How futile it is to lie to her now. It embarrasses you, that you still care what she thinks. That you're still attempting to shirk off your pain for her sake.

“But Queenie,” you turn your head to her, defeat written all over your face. “Queenie, my God, what am I doing here?”

Your life is in tatters again and you don’t even know why. They tortured and questioned you when you first arrived, but you hadn't seen anyone but Queenie since.

“You’re a spy. You were working with the Scamanders,” she recites this as if reading off a rap sheet. It’s clear it’s what she’s been told, and is the flimsy, defensive logic she’s using to justify you being here.

“So why hasn’t he killed me already?” You can’t help how lifeless your voice sounds, almost bored.

Too much pain is a deadening, desensitizing thing. At some point, it ceases to be effective. Grindelwald’s followers have pushed you past that point.

Queenie’s expression shutters closed.

She always seems so conflicted, whether she’s helping you or following Grindelwald’s orders, there’s some secret turmoil eating her up inside.

“Please,” you say.

“Grindelwald thinks you could play an important part in his plans, in the Spring. It’s… Do you know The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus?”

You know it from school. You think back to the Lestrange Mausoleum, to what Newt told you.

“Prophecy 20? But Credence he can’t be-“

“No, Prophecy 21.”

You stare at her, not following.

When she speaks it’s as if her voice comes from behind her, not from her. The prophecy tumbles from her painted mouth and fills the desolate cell:

“Come bleeding springtime,

come new leaves, come bone:

A lone daughter destined,

Without bloodline or home,

To transform darkest skies,

With great power, unknown.”

She looks at you meaningfully.

You scoff.

“Kill me then. That I am living…. Your Grindelwald is a fool.”

Queenie bristles defensively. “No! H-He is a great man who-“

You wave her off, weakly.

“There are plenty of muggleborn witches without homes, Queenie. Just head to the orphanage Hogwarts plucked me from in North London and you’ll see. The prophecy is not about me. I’m nothing special. I’m nothing…”

You know your fatigue isn’t natural. Despite Queenie’s best efforts, you are malnourished. Made simple-minded and irritable because of it. Frail.

You don’t hide your spell of faintness as well as you hoped to. Your eyelids are low, sedated.

Ever the mother hen, Queenie rushes to your side, kneeling.

“Let me sneak in more food, honey. Just give me a moment, I can-“

“Wand,” you say, your voice battered and forceless. It’s a strain to lift your eyes to meet Queenie’s then, to open them. But you make a point to.

Your voice is feeble, but your eyes are challenging, fierce.

“Queenie, if you really want to help me, get me a wand.”

“Y-You’re too weak. Even if I could get one to you, it would be too difficult for you to escape, to fight them, there’s—“

Your laugh is so deranged sounding, so sharp and unhinged that it silences her, cuts through the empty room bright and blade-like.

“Queenie,” you sigh. “Why do all wizards talk like that? Magic is the easiest thing in the world. Besides, you haven’t seen me fight.”

-----

No one expects it.

You've been so docile and half-alive after being tortured, the guard who brought your meal is so confused he doesn't fight back at all, merely tumbles backwards with astonished, wide eyes until you're able to knock him unconscious.

When Queenie brought you the wand earlier that day you'd tried in vain to convince her to come along with you. To escape and return to her sister, Tina.

She hadn't even said no, she just said, "I'm sorry."

Your legs wobble with every hurried, barefoot step. God, you don't know when the last time you walked was, nevertheless ran. It doesn't help that the castle is foreign to you. Queenie's succinct directions did little to capture the sheer, gargantuan size of the building.

Turn left. Down the staircase. Turn right. There's a locked door at the end of the hall. There might be guards on the other side.

You recite the instructions again and again, more to stay sane than to memorize them.

You round a corner too fast and are met with three men, dressed in dark tailored-suits. You unleash three spells, one for each, quick, tearing through them before they can even turn. You don't breathe, you don't miss.

You feel sorry for it, but you can't afford to be delicate or careful or merciful. Every second you're here is a moment Grindelwald could realize what's going on and come kill you in a heartbeat.

Hearing the ruckus, another man comes flying down the main hall, snarling.

"Avada Kedavr-"

You spot the exit and don't stick around, ducking your head and tumbling out into the courtyard, twisting your ankle but not missing a beat.

You keep running forward, stumbling, half-delirious, out towards the main iron gate.

You're shocked to find yourself at the summit of some snowy mountain. The world is blindingly white. The building you've come from is some stony fortress, more grand than you'd imagined from the bleak confines of your cell.

The air is arid, thin and dry with brutal cold. It burns to breathe in. Cuts like sandpaper in your throat.

You have to get past the gate to surpass Grindelwald's anti-apparition charm.

Almost there, I'm almost-

With a jolt you turn around. You can feel him looking at you, feel the strength of his gaze with the same recognition of a prey animal realizing they're being watched, hunted.

Grindelwald.

From the high tower window his face has gone serene with fury. Almost blank. The look in his eyes is beyond angry, it is rage in its purest, most distilled form, he hardly moves.

You tear your gaze away and lurch your body through the front gate.

You don't know where you are, you thought about apparating to London, but that's the first place they'd go to find you again.

Then you think of Hogsmeade, but it fell under the same anti-apparition wards that guarded Hogwarts.

"Nearby, then." You direct your magic, channel and funnel it all in the direction of the place before the image of it is even fully formed in your mind. "Feldcroft."

In a cutting, dizzying whoosh you are spelled away.

Feldcroft was an inconsequential village of wizardfolk, small, rural, not too far afield of Hogwarts. You'd spent one summer holiday there rather than go back to the orphanage, after your first year.

You'd helped a farmer work his land during the long summer days in return for meals and lodging. You were twelve and it was the hottest summer of your life, you hadn't known Scotland could be so hot, but anything was better than going back where you came from, terrified you'd never find your way back.

Before you've even landed you realize your folly. You were too weakened by the torture and starvation, and too far away.

You hit the ground bone-breakingly hard, but you hardly notice that dull, throbbing pain over the sharper, louder pain of being cut to slithers. Your skin twists and tears away from itself, from your muscles, in spirals and stripes. You couldn't fully stick the landing, it's an imperfect apparition, and this is the consequence.

You cry out, a crumpled heap on the frozen ground, limbs twisted and bloody.

With a rapidly blotting vision you strain your neck upwards.

"Did I make it? Am I safe?"

You don't even recognize Feldcroft. Winter had stripped all the fields and mountains of life. Summer, your childhood there, it's all long gone.

Some prophetic witch destined for greatness.

You see the blurred legs of a man approaching. When he leans down to look at your face, your limbs twitch in agonizing protest, but you're too injured to move.

"Y/N?" He says.

You inhale sharply, in pained horror.

"Y/N, I didn't recognize you."

You still can't see very well, but the liquid panic in your veins dissipates at the sound of his voice. You know him.

You hadn't recognized him at first, but it was the farmer, Mr. Howell, from what must've been a decade ago. The old man who had taken you in that summer when you were twelve. You remember him being old then, but he looks impossibly older now, ancient, really.

You don't know what to do with the recognition, with this information, but it doesn't matter because you are bleeding out and, within seconds, you feel a sweet and pain-sapping unconsciousness take you.

----

When you wake your consciousness is a flimsy, fragile thing, like trying to float a feather in air. Your vision is black and brown around the edges.

You're in a bed and Mr. Howell is putting a kettle on. You feel worse than you ever did in captivity of Grindelwald, closer to death.

"It still looks the same," you say, rasping. "I didn't recognize the village, but this house..."

A swell of weakness overtakes you again and your vision almost blacks out completely before returning in a soft vignette.

You can see the farmer, Mr. Howell, staring at you from across the room, at your starved body, your bloodless face.

"What happened to you?" It's so direct a question it's almost startling, almost rude. But it's said with such genuine remorse and concern that your heart softens.

"I..." He licks his lips before starting again. "When I told Minerva I'd agree to take you in that summer... Well, I thought your life was so sad. It was sad you had no one to go home to for the holiday. That your life had been so hard, she told me, about the abuse... But you were so young, such a skinny, hopeful thing. So talented. And good. I was sure it had to get better."

You smile at him, it pains you to do so. The old-you would've bristled, pride scorched, at anyone pitying you. But now you can only smile.

"I always thought the same too, sir."

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" he asks earnestly. "If you are, you're always welcome back at the farm. You know that."

Your heart seizes, your eyes well. You haven't spoken to him since that summer when you were twelve, that September when you thanked him hurriedly and spirited off with badly concealed eagerness to rejoin your friends at Hogwarts, without a glance behind.

"Thank you. It's more than I deserve, but thank you... And, yes. I'm afraid I am in trouble. I've just been a prisoner of Gellert Grindelwald. I'm sorry, I should be leaving, he could come after me."

The man looks taken aback, but ignores your words and asks instead: "Oh, Y/N, you look so unwell. Should I call for someone up at Hogwarts? The hospital wing is obviously reserved for students, but I'm sure-"

"I believe I am going to faint now, I apologize." The words come out of your mouth in an embarrassed rush. The dark edges close in and swallow you up, life itself extinguishes like a candle.

------

Theseus towers over the students at Hogwarts, he tries his best to push his way through the crowded halls without trampling them.

"Professor Dumbledore!" He calls out, giving up. Getting the man's attention must be easier than reaching him at this point.

Dumbledore looks up, startled, from across the sea of black-robed students. He's standing in the doorframe to his classroom.

Theseus imagines how he looks in Dumbledore's eyes--helpless, drowned. Maybe insane.

When Dumbledore waves him over he continues to gently push his way forward.

"I love her, I love her," he's thinking with a plummeting urgency, each internal admission of "I love her" bringing him closer to tears.

"She's not dead. If she was I'd know. I'd feel it. I'd feel her leaving me for good."

"Theseus," Dumbledore shoos the remaining students out and shuts the thick wooden door once Theseus enters. "What is this about?"

Theseus swallows hard and holds Dumbledore's gaze, trying to effuse authority.

"I need you to tell me where Gellert Grindelwald is. Right now."

Dumbledore opens his mouth in a stunted exhale, at a loss for words.

"Pardon?"

"Y/N has been taken prisoner."

"So, what, you're going to charge in there, alone, against Gellert Grindelwald and who knows how many of his supporters?"

Theseus tries not to waver, but the panic is beginning to set in. What if Dumbledore denies him?

"If I have to," he says, purposefully.

Dumbledore walks over to his desk and sits on it, stunned.

"Theseus," he says. "I've known you since you were a boy. I-I'm sorry, but I hardly recognize you. Have you no appeal to reason?"

"None at all, sir."

Dumbledore laughs, and the sound confuses Theseus, upsets him.

"You love her? God, you really do..."

Theseus is willing to destroy himself for it, for you.

"Help me. Tell me where to find her, or I'll find her on my own."

The heavy creaking sound of the door being pushed open causes Theseus to turn in agitation.

A woman in a nurse's uniform glides right past him and up to Dumbledore.

"Albus," she says in apparent distress. Theseus can't make out the rest.

After a moment of the woman's whispering, Dumbledore turns to Theseus, looking at him in sharp alarm.

"What is it?" Theseus says, unkindly. He doesn't care. He just wants to know where you are.

"Fate," answers Dumbledore. The line of his mouth is grave but his eyes are twinkling. "We've had a request from a farmer out in Feldcroft. He says a former student has apparated onto his land and is in dire need of medical care, and protection. That there could be followers of Grindelwald's coming after her shortly."

Theseus doesn't dare breathe. Doesn't let himself feel the acute bite of hope nipping at his heels, at his heart.

"He says her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N."

--------

"Wake up, Y/N."

There are hands on your shoulders. Someone is touching you. Someone is-

Your whole body jerks awake. Your limbs are lashing out, fighting, before your eyes are even open.

"Get off me! Don't fucking touch me! Don't-"

"Y/N! Y/N, it's Theseus," Dumbledore is shouting. "It's okay you're safe-"

"What's happened to her?!"

Even his name didn't stall you, but the sound of his voice, pure and surreal, reaches you through the din of panic roaring in your ears. You exhale.

Once you've stopped kicking and struggling, the room comes into vision.

There are four people surrounding your bed. You're in Mr. Howell's house, of course, of course you are...

There in front of you are Professor Dumbledore, an older woman in a Hogwarts nurse uniform, Mr. Howell, and, impossibly, Theseus Scamander.

Theseus is staring at you, wide-eyed, like he doesn't recognize you. A dot of blood marks his temple, you wonder if it was you who did that just now.

"What's happened to her?" He repeats, his voice cracks. "What--Who did this to her?"

"She's been tortured, Theseus. And starved, maybe worse," says Dumbledore in a clipped, hushed way. "Please, understand, and give her some time to-"

"You're real," your voice is so quiet, so full of wonder, but it captures his full attention.

Theseus is holding his breath in apprehension. You're still staring at him in horrific fascination.

"This isn't--This is real?"

Theseus comes forward and kneels beside the bed, reaches for your arm. You can hardly look at his face, it's so startlingly beautiful. Dark blue eyes. The curve of his lips. It's really him.

"Y/N." He retracts his hand when you flinch, involuntarily. "Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you. I swear, I'm not gonna hurt you..."

You remember that you secretly love when he talks to you like this, whispers like he would to an animal he's trying to soothe, or like he's trying not to wake you. He's speaking so delicately, but you can hear in his voice how his heart is crushed.

Everyone is staring down at you in the bed. You figure you've already been treated from the wet rag on your sweaty forehead and the way every second more and more sensation returns to your fingertips and toes. Your body itches and tingles with a crawling warmth that feels like fever where your flesh has begun to stitch itself back together--the nurse's work, no doubt.

With every breath you return more and more to yourself, the dulled sensations of the world come back in startling pinpricks of color and sound and vividness. The parts of your consciousness that make you you flood back into the frail animal of your body.

"Oh," you say, with a groan, pinching your eyes closed.

Theseus looks startled, turning from the nurse to you frantically.

"Y/N! Are you okay, what's-"

"Oh, Theseus!" You sigh at last, and he looks back to you, his brow still furrowed. You smile at him, not caring how wretched and sickly you look, you're just so happy to see him. "Theseus, you came! I love you, I love you, I love-"

He throws his arms around you, leaning over the bed.

Tears spring to your eyes, but you can't stop smiling.

He won't let go of you, so you don't realize he's crying until you feel his shoulders shaking, the gentle rocking of his frame.

"You're supposed to be the one who is good at being in control," you murmur fondly.

When he pulls away he's collected himself, sniffles once and then groans.

"Oh, God. For a second there I thought you didn't recognize me, that you were scared of me."

"Not of you," you shake your head. "Of...."

The reality of your situation settles like ash in your mouth.

"Albus," you say, turning to others. "We need to go now. I escaped as quickly as I could, but they could follow me here any second. Please."

Dumbledore nods, and then whispers something to the nurse.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. But I don't believe you'll be strong enough to stand. Not yet."

"I've got it," Theseus says cooly, before you can even respond.

"Too weak to stand," you want to snicker but can't summon the energy.

"I knew that was some bullshit prophecy," you mutter, lifting your arms to help Theseus, who is leaning by the bed to pick you up.

He stops. So does Dumbledore. They're both frowning.

"What?"

"Oh," you huff. "Grindelwald thinks Tycho Dodonus's twenty-first prophecy is about me. I'm supposed to be this great witch with the power to transform the world, didn't you know?"

There is a beat of shocked silence before Theseus begins to laugh, heartily so.

You scowl. "Why is that funny?!"

"It's not funny," He caresses your face affectionately with the back of his hand. "It's just that I knew it. I always knew you were destined for greatness. Of course there's a prophecy about you. Of course the world saw you coming..."

Your heart sputters dutifully, weakly. You're torn between leaning into the feeling of his hand on your face and turning away, protecting yourself from what you cannot have.

It still feels so ruined to you. You know he must be doing this out of pity. Out of guilt.

It had been more than two months since he asked you to come with him. Who knows what he's been doing, what he thought of you now...

Your eyes prick with tears at this realization.

You see him through the lens of the memory even as he stands before you. You remember shaking his hand on your first day at the Ministry, dancing with him under twirling lights at the Christmas party, his booming laugh, his gentle chuckle. The warm, growing feeling in your chest knowing you were the cause.

You remember laying naked with him in bed, his broad hands, the barely-there freckles at his temple, the light-colored hair trailing down from his navel, the way he held your legs up when he made love to you, when he was inside you, spreading them, always trying to get deeper, closer. It should be vulgar, the memory, but it doesn't feel that way to you. Every moment of it felt clean, bathed in light and goodness.

Your heart pounds heavily, pathetically. As he helps you up from the bed you have the sickening feeling that you are saying goodbye.

Your vision swoons, sways like an overhead light. Your legs tingle, half-numb.

"I-I can't stand," you whisper. In a swift motion Theseus scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

He has to hold you sideways and duck his head to get through the narrow doorframe, he's so tall. You're asleep again, this time safe in his arms, before you're out of the village, before you can even tell Mr. Howell thank you.

Goodbye! You think. Goodbye...

------

You’re on a train again and Theseus is holding you. You hardly feel the rumble of the train car on the tracks, hardly feel anything at all but his arms around you.

“Where are we going?” You don’t even care, it’s almost perfunctory that you ask. But some distant part of your brain tells you that it does matter where you are, where you’re going in the world.

“London. You’re weak, we need to take you home.”

Home. You feel so little affection for your apartment that you’re barely able to make the connection.

“I don’t have a home.”

“We can go to mine. We can go anywhere you want.”

“I want to go…” You feel breathless, feeble. Delusional. “I want to pretend that we’re on a different train.”

“Hm?” Theseus strokes your shoulders, your back comfortingly. Since he met you, all he’s ever wanted to do was hug you, hold you. It’s as if he was meant to, how good it feels to be doing it now.

It's a terrible thing, how badly he wants to kiss you. But he's willing to wait.

“Can we pretend that I made it on time?" you say. "That I made it to the platform, got on the train that day in November and we’re in it now… Pretend that you’re still asking me to love you and that I said yes.”

He turns to you then, you’re still slouched in his arms. You’re looking up at him so brokenly, there’s hardly any of you left. No sign of that headstrong girl who withheld herself from him so vigorously, who built up walls around herself so high no one could hurt her again.

“Y/N…” The words have been stolen from him, his heart swiped from his chest at the sight of you, at the knowledge that any part of you believes that he might not want you anymore, might not feel the same.

“Y/N, will you love me?” His voice is a quiet, determined plea. “Will you say yes? I am asking you now. The offer still stands, it always will.”

It's Theseus, your handsome, wonderful Theseus, asking you this. He was the best man you knew, but, even if he wasn’t, you couldn't help but love him. It wasn't a choice for you anymore.

Your lip trembles, but you somehow manage to get the words out without whimpering, without collapsing into him outright.

“Yes,” you say. “Always.”

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