#theseus scamander request
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Guiding Light
summary: based on this request for jealous Theseus. also it wasn’t inspired by the Mumford & Sons song, but it did cross my mind after i wrote the line
warnings: jealous and kinda touchy Theseus, upset Theseus, a moment of arguing / yelling, kinda suggestive ending but definitely nothing explicit
A/N: This was surprisingly trickier than writing jealous Newt somehow. I hope you like it :) also, per usual i did not proofread lol
word count: 1.6k
You and Theseus have both worked in the British Ministry of Magic together for 3 years now. You became quite close quite quickly. You never see each other out of work, however. Then again, you’re really only ever home to sleep.
Recently you’ve been doing a lot of work inside of the office rather than leaving to go on missions. For the most part, that was true for Theseus as well. But when he was away for work and you were stuck in the office, you were slightly miserable. You’d never admit it to his face, but you loved having him around. You loved using his height when you couldn’t reach things (which was often), you loved his stupid jokes, you even loved when he would poke fun at you. Another plus, that you had forgotten about until he was away for a couple of weeks recently, is that whenever he was around none of the other men in the Ministry bothered you unless it was for work. Which meant they really never bothered you since Theseus found a way to be glued to your side everyday.
Now that he’d been gone for some time, one of your fellow aurors decided to start talking to you more. It wasn’t that he was rude by any means, he was sweet actually, you just were too anxious around other people. Especially alone.
He started talking to you everyday at lunch and you started to warm up to him and get used to his presence. It was good for you to get acquainted with people without Theseus to interrupt. And Eli was a great place to start. He seemed to be able to ease your anxiety, much like Theseus was able to. What you hadn’t realized was that Eli had a thing for you. Your head was too focused on Theseus to notice. Even when he was gone for almost 3 weeks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were eating lunch with Eli when you heard someone clear their throat as there was suddenly a shadow over part of the table. You whipped around to see Theseus leaning against the table behind you, arms crossed per usual.
“Am I interrupting something?” He sounded mildly irritated, but you were far too excited to notice.
“Theseus!” You quickly got up to hug him, and he did not hesitate for a second to hug you tightly back.
“I missed you dove.” He whispered into your hair, but it was loud enough so that the other auror could hear the pet name.
You remembered when he first gave you that name, he said it was perfect for you since you’re the most kind and gentle person he’s ever met (who wasn’t his brother with his magical creatures). You smiled widely and pulled away to keep from touching for a suspicious amount of time. He decided to sit between you and Eli for the remainder of lunch. You didn’t mind, you were just happy he was back. You were starting to get worried.
Everything was normal, in your head, until you felt his hand on your leg after you laughed hard at something Eli had said. You almost choked on your sandwich as you shot him a confused look, your eyes moving between his hand and his eyes.
“Um, I’m gonna head back to my office. See ya later, yeah?” Eli stood up and gathered the remainder of his food.
“Yeah! Of course!” You smiled and waved goodbye to him. You glanced at Theseus and noticed an odd smirk. He seemed proud of himself for something.
“Thees what was that all about?” You raised your eyebrows at him.
“What was all of what about?” He still hadn’t removed his hand.
You pointed at his hand.
“Oh, sorry. I guess I’ve just been away from you too long.” He laughed and moved his hand.
You were still confused but decided it was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day you were in your office with Theseus when Eli walked in. You saw his smile fade when he noticed Theseus standing next to you.
“Y/N, uh, hi. I was just wondering-“
Theseus unexpectedly put his arm around your shoulders as you stood, smiling at Eli.
“What’s up Eli?”
“Yeah, no nevermind. Sorry I seem to have forgotten.” He nervously laughed and left the room.
“Eli? His name is Elliott.” Theseus removed his arm from around you and furrowed his brows.
“Well I like Eli better. What’s it matter what I call him?”
“You’re being too friendly-“
“I’m being too friendly? Theseus since when has me being kind been an issue? The entire point of calling me dove was because of how ‘kind and gentle’ I am. A direct quote from you by the way.” You moved to stand in front of him so you could try to read his face. He’s always incredibly hard to read. Even to you and Newt.
“He clearly fancies you! And by the looks of it he thinks you fancy him as well.”
“What makes you say th-“
“Oh come on, Y/N! Are you really that stupid? Or are you enjoying leading him on?”
Him calling you stupid hurt, but his implication that you could be capable of enjoying toying with someone’s emotions like that was the real stinger. Your eyes started to water as you turned around to just go home early. His arm shot out to grab your hand in a panic, he didn’t mean to hurt you. It was really the very last thing he was trying to do.
You whipped around, but instead of the wide grin when you looked at him, it was pure anger and confusion, “What has gotten into you?! What happened to the Theseus I know and love?” You yelled out at him, and he visibly looked taken aback at your tone, but he didn’t move a muscle.
“Let me go.” You whispered out angrily. Theseus listened, watching you leave, wishing he could follow you and just tell you everything. He wished he could just run right after you, spin you around, and kiss you. Right there in the middle of the Ministry. But he knew he couldn’t. He may be a war hero, but he knew he couldn’t handle it if you were to reject him. You’ve been his guiding light ever since you first met. When he felt incredibly lost and alone. When he wasn’t even talking to Newt. But he didn’t know which was worse. The idea of losing you because you didn’t feel the same, or losing you because he accidentally pushed you away. Because he hurt you. Merlin, he really couldn’t live with himself if he lost you because he hurt you.
You stomped back into your office a couple minutes later, “I forgot-“ you started to say you forgot your keys in an angry and mildly awkward tone, but were cut off by the site before you. He was leaning against your desk, gripping the edge with his hands as he looked down. Your stomach dropped. You know you’re the one who should be raging and he’s the one that said hurtful things to you, but you’ve never seen him like this.
“…Thees? Are you ok? What happened to you while you were gone?” You asked softly and quietly, slowly walking towards him until you were standing in front of him.
He remained gripping the desk for a moment before he looked into your eyes and shook his head, tears welling up. Your heart started racing from anxiety. You’ve never seen him like this and you really wish you weren’t. You could swear it was literally breaking your heart in two.
You hugged him, it was the only thing you knew to do. He hugged you back so tightly that you thought for a moment that it was a cruel trick for him to be able to strangle you to death. And then you felt the small shakes of him silently crying.
“Theseus talk to me. Are you okay?” You softly rubbed his back in circles as he cried into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“Look, it’s ok. I���m not sure why you’re upset but people say things they don’t mean when they’re upset and it’s-“
“No. No not for that. Well, that too but,” he pulled away to look into your eyes, and to be able to read your reaction, “for acting the way I was. I’m sure Elliott is a swell man, but I…”
“You what, Theseus?” You whispered as your heart began to race for a different reason.
“I’m so sorry if you don’t feel the same but I need to tell you. And if I don’t tell you now, I don’t think I’d ever get it out there. I love you, Y/N. And please, before you respond, I need you to know something else. Before I met you I was disconnected. I felt incredibly lost and I was completely alone at that point in my life. I hadn’t even talked to Newt in months. But then you came along and… And you became this guiding light of sorts for me. I don’t know how else to explain it. Newt is much better with dealing with emotions than I am and I’m sorr-“
“Theseus,” you smiled, “that was an amazing little speech. And I can’t believe you called me stupid for not realizing Eli ‘fancied’ me, while you were right here thinking that I didn’t love you back.” You gave him a playful grin as you looked down at his lips for a moment. And before you knew it, you crashed your lips to his. Both you kissing the other as if your life depended on it. As if you were starving. You were then interrupted by a knock on the door, presumably Eli again, but Theseus pulled out his wand to close the small curtain on your door and to put a chair in front under the handle. You giggled before he kissed you feverishly again. And let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that had to do with the Ministry the rest of the day.
#fantastic beasts#fantastic beasts secrets of dumbledore#theseus scamander#fantastic beasts and where to find them#fbatsod#fbawtft#fbatcog#theseus scamander x reader#theseus scamander x y/n#theseus scamander x you#theseus scamander fluff#theseus scamander request#theseus scamander oneshot#theseus scamander fic#theseus scamander imagine#fantastic beasts fic#fic request#theseus scamander fic request
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𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄: 𝑺𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
As I am a hopeless romantic who acts like she hates Saint Valentine (cough, cough... I do not, I just wish I had someone to celebrate it with) I use fictional characters to cope with it. Due to this from the 12th to 24th of February I will be accepting the types of request I am listing bellow with the characters I write for. Just be sure you put the corresponding emoji you are asking for. That's all, hope you like it!. Event is closed
📓I deserve a great love story and I want someone to share it with: give me a general idea for a fic with a character and I will write it out (you can also choose from the prompts of this list)
💘All this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings: Choose one of my fictional men and I will make a moodboard for them (and if you want you can also tell me about you so I can also make a couple moodboard for both of you)
🎶A look in somebody's eyes to light up the skies: Give me a character and I will tell you 5 songs (one of them a love one) that reminds me of them
🌹Isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?: I will give you general romantic headcanons for the character you ask me
🫀 You have bewitched me, body and soul: Give me a character and I will tell you the different types of people he would fall for. Alternative: tell me about you and I will ship you with a character from my list and tell you why
💌 Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all: Say a character and I will tell you ten reasons to hate them (or are they ten reasons to adore them)
Event's masterlist:
Those with a link have already been answered. Ten asks to go!
💘 For Prefect!gr!Cedric Diggory and Prefect!bc!Gryffindor!reader
🫀For Sirius Black
🫀For anon
📓Jason Todd x vigilante!bookworm!reader
🫀For Steve Harrington
🌹For gr!Cedric Diggory and bc!reader
📓 Regulus Black and reader with the prompt "Cause I hate, like, everyone except you"
📓Prefect!gr!Cedric Diggory and Prefect!bc!Gryffindor!reader requested by 🍁Anon
🫀For Regulus Black
🫀For second anon
📓Cedric Diggory and shy!ravenclaw!reader inspired by the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift
🎶 For Jason Todd
💌 For Poe Dameron
💌 For Steve Harrington
💘For Regulus Black and f!slytherin!brunette!writer!reader
💘For Steve and a f!curly brunette!writer!quirky!reader
📓 Peter Pevensie x fem!reader with the prompt "Saying I love you isn't enough, I want you to believe me when I say it "
#requests are open#regulus black x reader#theseus scamander x reader#cedric diggory x reader#jason todd x reader#steve harrington x reader#peter pevensie x reader#poe dameron x reader#sejanus plinth x reader
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The Picturesque Series- Callum Turner
subject: Callum Turner
genre: smut
word count: 580
.masterlist.
© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
-Don’t stop on my account-
He has caught you in the act of pleasuring yourself, a gesture that he’s not too fond of.
He’s just gotten home after having a long day, that let’s be honest wasn’t as good as it could have been, strolling through the house, looking for you to vent.
Stumbling into the bedroom, spotting you, sprawled out on the cream linen sheets, body slightly arched off the bed, legs spread, and guilty fingers toying with your cunt.
You are too lost in your own world to notice him, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning out his name as you hit a single peek in your high, chasing after it like a mad man, only to fall short in frustration.
its then that you spot him, a disapproving look on his face. He didn’t like seeing you this way. He believed that if you were going to get off, it would be by his hand and his hand only.
You pull your hand from your exposed cunt, pulling your lips to a thin line. “Callum,” you say lowly, suggestively. He already knows where you’re going with this. “Well, don’t stop on my account?” he goads, bring himself to sit in the large windowsill directly across from the bed.
You let out a sigh, bringing yourself to sit up, desperately wanting to argue with him on the topic, which you know you would lose instantly.
“Go on, show me how much better you are at pleasuring yourself, then I am.”
He rests his arms comfortably in front of him, gesturing for you to continue your assault on your cunt.
Laying back down, you bring your fingers back down to the apex of your thighs, finding a suitable rhythm. teetering your fingers against your clit.
It doesn’t take long for you to find the high you were riding earlier, single peeks of it hitting you every now and then. Your mouth is open, letting out soft breathy moans, and your back is arched.
You bring yourself to look at him, he’s watching you with lidded eyes, intently staring at you, memorizing your every move.
He tries to act like it isn’t bothering him in the slightest, but you could see the tightness of his trousers, the way his jaw tenses, and even the way his tongue runs across his bottom lip.
Frustration sets in when your climax builds, and then dissipates. Groaning you prop yourself back up on your elbows, looking at him with a pleading look on your face. “Callum, please..” You say just above a whisper, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear you.
His eyes narrow on your form. He approaches you slowly, small strides until he reaches you on the bed. Leaning over your form, as you lay back down. His fingers grazing your inner thigh as he reaches your needy cunt.
His fingers trace through your folds, toying with your entrance. You can’t help but clench around the open air just at feeling him touch you.
He leans closer to you, his lips kissing the length of your neck, stopping once he reaches your ear.
“It looks like you’re not as good as I am at that,” he says with a nip to your ear.
He pulls back to look at the scowl on your face, which he returns with a smirk of his own.
His eyes linger on your naked form for a moment before he turns and walks away. Leaving you lying there as you frustrated, and determined for more.
@sunflowerchild27 here you go babe!
A/N: Here you go lovelies! if you guys want more of these let me know, you guys can send in pictures and I can see what I can do with them!! love you guys, enjoy!
#fanfic#smut#callum turner x you#callumturneredit#callum turner#callum turner x reader#the capture#fantastic beats and where to find them#Theseus Scamander#the picturesque series#Callum turner smut#Callum turner headcanon#smut headcanons#still not sure if you can call this a headcanon#request 💙#for all you Callum hoes out there!
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Hey! Could I please request a Theseus Scamander fic where the reader is a close friend of him and has had feelings for Theseus for a long time but they both share a rather formal bond because they're both colleagues at the ministry and Theseus wasn't really over Leta. But after a while he starts to develop feelings for the reading too and is just very soft and protective, caring when it comes to her.
OOOOOOO !!!! Say no more.
I love. I might do a short lil sm sm for this! It's so cute; I love a good colleagues to friends to lovers, and everything in between Especially when it involves Theseus!
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Hi!! :)
how about some headcanons or an imagine about Theseus and reader (from another department in the ministry) flirting at work and just being cute whenever they see each other
xxx
yes sure! thanks for requesting
Theseus Scamander || Headcanons
Pls don't mind my bad grammar eh
Theseus Scamander x Reader
AGHHHH THESEUS SCAMANDER. I just love him, don't mind me lmao :)
okay so where to begin like-
Being a member of the Oblivator squad from Department of Magical Accidents and Casatropes you would often be required at the fields and the Auror Office
Yes, They do need the help of your team to clean up the evidence when Aurors make slips up infront of muggles in their missions
And you see him. Oh dear Merlin. Theseus
It's not the first time you've caught him staring at you whenever you two work together
and there went your heart beating like crazy
He would just stare at you even more, just because he knows it makes you flustered and all
Oh how bad you wanted to wipe off that smirk off his face
He clearly knows what he's doing
You two are friends somehow
Also not you taking every chance to visit The Department of Magical Law Enforcement at work
You would wave at him if you see him while you're passing by
or just stop by his office if he's free
And dear boy, doesn't that makes his heart flutter
He would run up to you, pausing whatever the work he's doing. Yes, the same Theseus Scamander who is dedicated toward his work would do that just to speak to you.
He likes to ruffle your hair every chance he gets much to you annoyance
He would invite you to have a coffee time to time
Oh the things his smile does to you
He'd tease you a lot, just to get your annoyed reaction
"It's fun to mess with you," he would say
You being you would compliment him all the time. Which leaves this badger a blushing mess
He would clear his throat, the tips of his ears gone bright red
"Are you trying to flirt with me?" He asks
"I don't know, am I?" You would say, while continuing to do so ;)
One time you expressed your worry about him fighting Grindelwald and he hugged you. YES. he's a hugger, remember?
He would hold both your hands together and will assure that he will be careful
This man would do anything to gain your attention
Him suddenly sneaking behind you and scaring you to death, which led you to punch him in the face one time. Unexpected
Small notes at your desk, a flower or a cup of coffee in the mornings
You had to patch up his bloody nose, and you didn't even try control you laugh
I hope u enjoy it heh. Idk if it's good but yea-
anyways thank u for being patient and for the request again 😭<3
#theseus scamander#theseus x reader#the secrets of dumbledore#fantastic beasts 3#headcanon#character x reader#fluff writing#being cute#lol#wizarding world#head auror#fantastic beats and where to find them#fantastic beats the crimes of grindelwald#request writing
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Requests 🦉
please send requests through my ask box
some info about requesting; characters (scroll to the bottom to skip!), fic types, etc:
marauders! ~
sirius x reader
remus x reader
wolfstar
wolfstar x reader
james potter x reader
but i am open to writing for other characters x reader — will be based on whether i know the character / know them enough for inspiration to strike — some ideas for other suggestions…
star wars ~
poe dameron
cal kestis
marvel ~
tasm!peter
billy russo
bucky barnes
other fandoms ~
tangerine
dean winchester
other hp ~
fred weasley
theseus scamander
sebastian sallow
~
i'll write fluff, angst, etc, and i will happily write NSFW requests but please ONLY request nsfw if you’re not a minor; feel free to request that it be nsfw without it's being too specific - like if you have a fluffy prompt but want it to get smutty or something like that
level of specificity up to you; i encourage requesting tropes, specific au's, etc
lmk if you prefer blurb or one-shot length, and i'll see what i can do
for marauders requests, it’s helpful for me if you lmk if you want hogwarts age / aged up, magical / non-magical au
i try to keep my reader character inclusive, but i can make it more specific upon request; i'm comfortable writing fem!reader or plus size!reader, others would depend
i'm happy to interact with you even if i don't feel confident fulfilling your request so don’t be shy with asks!
thanks for reading, and please send me inspiration!! much love 💜
#requests#requests open#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#x reader#x y/n#marauders#hp#marvel#star wars#lotr#andrew garfield#ben barnes#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#fred weasley#theseus scamander#tasm!peter#billy russo#tangerine#supernatural#criminal minds#dean winchester#spencer reid#poe dameron#bucky barnes#plus size!reader#fem!reader
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Hey! I have a request for Theseus Scamander, could you please write a fic where the reader has been Newt's best friend since their Hogwarts days since she's in Hufflepuff just like Newt and Theseus. The backstory is kinda like she has had unrequited feelings for Theseus for years but did nothing about it since he's always seen her as his little brother's friend. Then she ends up becoming an Auror and he ends up dating Leta and also he's kind of cocky too so they don't really get along well and are just bickering all the time. But then after Leta is dead, she starts being nicer to him, they get pretty friendly and they end up dating after realising they have feelings for each other? I'm so sorry for making it so long😭 I'd really love to see this in your writing, thank you <33
Hey anon! I've got an idea slightly to the left of this that I think would fit well enough that you'd enjoy it, so I'm happy to write it! Requests are technically closed, but I'm feeling it and looking for something to write atm so I'm happy to take this request 😄
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FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!
OK LAST ONE I PROMISE. but you know I had to send in a theseus request so … theseus + "You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!" teehee 😋
'𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡 (𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢)
theseus scamander x fem!reader
summary: 1.7k
“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.
or the one where theseus can't stand your secretary.
warnings: none that i can think of, semi-possessive theseus?
masterlist
He was just your secretary. That’s what you keep telling yourself. And Theseus. All he does is your filing and allow people entry into your office. And bring you your morning coffee without you needing to ask for it, with the exact amount of cream and sugar you take without you ever having told him in the past.
Of course, this was just him being excellent at his job, it was why you’d kept him on for so long. There was a quick turnover rate for secretaries at the ministry. A year or two, at most, before they were either fired by their respective bosses or they left to pursue a field they were actually passionate about. But not Richard. No, you’d been working with Richard for the better part of five years. Long before you’d ever met your now boyfriend–if you could even call him that, only having been on a dozen or so dates at this point. Not that the question hadn’t been on the tip of his tongue since the first time you batted your eyelashes at him.
That didn’t stop Theseus from clenching his jaw every morning when he stopped by to say hello only to find your secretary to have abandoned his post outside your office in favor of holing up in your loveseat and carrying on with whatever annoyingly dull topic of conversation he’d chosen to occupy your time with. It didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes at the way his hand lingered over yours as he dropped off the accounts you needed that afternoon during your lunch break, little more than a glance cast askew at him as he sat beside you. It didn’t stop him from biting his tongue so hard it bled each time you brought Richard up in the evenings when he walked you out of the building.
No, it didn’t matter how long you’d worked with the man. Theseus knew a crush when he saw one.
“What’s wrong, love? You’ve been tense all day,” you say, gently placing a hand onto his shoulder. He’d been sitting in your office for a little over an hour, his work day having already drawn to a close but you’d had to finish up a last minute assignment your boss had thrown on your desk fifteen minutes before you were supposed to leave. Theseus hadn’t minded waiting.
“Nothing,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Richard had been especially irritating that day. He’d barely had five minutes alone with you before you’d forced your secretary to go home once the clock hit six.
“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.
“It’s nothing, lovely. Promise,” he says. At the very least, having this time with you was beginning to dull the headache that had formed earlier in the day. He thinks it started when Richard had once again waltzed into your office during your lunch hour with the hopes of taking you out to the bakery a couple blocks away.
“Okay,” you drawl, eyebrows drawn together.
It’s then that Theseus notices the parchment stuck to your desk lamp. It was a charmed doodle, one that poorly illustrated a man with smoke shooting out of his ears sitting at a desk played on a loop. To keep you company while you work - Rich. Of course.
“You ready?” you ask, shuffling around documents and files on your desk to deal with on Monday when you return before grabbing your bag off the ground and slipping your coat on. You circle around the furniture in your office to stand in front of Theseus. He ran a firm hand across his brow bone as he stood to meet you. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth as he nods.
It’s hard to ignore how stiff he’s become.
“Are we still good for dinner at yours tonight?” you ask.
“Of course,” he hums. He wasn’t going to let this ruin the one of the few evenings a week he got to spend with you. Or, at least, he was going to try to not let it ruin it.
Once he was sure you’d both collected the remainders of your belongings, he takes your hand in his to apparate the two of you to his flat. Since you weren’t going back to your place, he didn’t feel the need to walk the two of you all the way across the ministry just to disapparate from there. He only did that to spend a couple extra minutes with you, anyway.
It’s only the second time you’ve been to his place, but the short wave of nausea prevents you from feeling too overwhelmingly nervous about it. You set your bag beside the door before you move to the kitchen to sit and let the urge to vomit begin to dissipate. Theseus smooths a palm over down your arm as he slides up behind you.
He leans down to whisper in your ear. His nose brushes against your cheek. “Can I get you anything?”
“Maybe a penny…” you trail off.
“A penny?” he huffs amused.
“For your thoughts,” you say.
“I told you it was nothing.”
“Darling, I know something’s wrong. I want to help if I can,” you say, tilting your head back enough to look at his face. He bends again to kiss your forehead. It’s tender, sweet. Nearly domestic.
“It’s just work stress, I guess,” he says. He wasn’t technically lying.
“I’m sorry,” you hum, bringing a hand up to smooth across his cheek for a second. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help if you get some of it off your chest.”
“I wouldn’t want to burden you, love,” he says as he begins to move away from your chair. He meanders around the small kitchen as he starts to gather the things he needs to cook dinner. You hardly notice as he charms the cutting board to dice vegetables for him.
“It wouldn’t be a burden. Richie’s always telling me about the kinds of things that bother him at the office,” you say. Theseus’ jaw clenches. With his suit coat already having been slung across the couch in the living room, he’s quick to roll his button-down sleeves up to his elbows.
“Fucking Richard,” he mutters. It’s so quiet you almost miss it. Your brows raise. He runs a palm over his jaw, resisting the urge to bite down on one of his fingers.
“This is about him?”
“What?” he asks as he turns away from you to grab noodles from his pantry. The first time he’d asked about Richard had been harmless. A one-off question at the end of your evening when he’d been walking you back to your flat. A question you’d answered simply. He’s just your secretary. Then he’d asked again. A second and a third time.
“This. Your… mood. It’s about him, isn’t it?” you ask. You’re attempting to sound understanding, but you know there’s an edge to your tone. He doesn’t elicit an answer. “I thought I told you he wasn’t anything to worry about. He works for me.”
“I know,” he grumbles.
“Then what’s this about, hm?” you ask, standing from your chair and moving into his space.
“It’s just.” He’s cracking, slightly. He hates that he’s allowed himself to get affected by something so trivial. “He’s always there.”
“You’ve got yourself in a fit because my secretary comes into my office during work hours?”
“It’s the way he is around you, you know? He’s always around, always touching or trying to touch. You should see the way he looks at you,” he huffs. The box in his hand drops onto the counter suddenly, his hands following as he pushes his weight against them.
“Thes-” you start.
“You think I like being like this? You think it’s something I want? To be so angry and aggravated about something that I can’t control? That you can’t control?” he asks. “Everytime he touches you I want to rip his fucking hands off.”
You step behind him, winding your arms around his middle until he’s stood straight again. His hands find yours and interweave between your fingers.
“It’s not you,” he sighs. “Well, I mean, it is you. I don’t see how there isn’t a single man left in the world not wrapped tight around your finger.”
You press a kiss between his collarbones. He relaxes into your hold.
“I don’t want Richard,” you say.
“I know.”
“I want you.”
“I want you, too, darling.”
“But I also want you to talk to me,” you say as you urge him to turn to face you with a tap of your fingers against his torso. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t say I haven’t noticed him being a little closer to me than some of the other secretaries have been with their bosses, because I have. So, I’ll talk to him. But, I need you to talk to me, too.”
His forehead falls forward until it’s pressed against yours.
You continue, “I need you to tell me when stuff like this bothers you. You can’t just be all angry at the world and do nothing about it and expect it all to change. Okay?”
“I can do that,” he hums.
“Good,” you nod.
“Good.”
“You also need to remember that I’m a grown-up and I can handle myself, too, right? Just because another man may or may not have his eyes on me doesn’t mean I’m going to go running off into the sunset with him,” you say. A soft laugh rumbles in his chest, his eyes crinkling with a soft smile at the sides.
“Alright,” he says.
“Now,” you say. “What’s for dinner?”
#theseus scamander#theseus scamander x reader#callum turner#callum turner x reader#harry potter#fantastic beasts and where to find them
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Hi there.
Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️
kiss it better
newt scamander x reader
fluff (making out)
cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell
summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.
notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))
16+ please!!
“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”
it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.
“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”
oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.
“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”
but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.
“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”
newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.
“come inside.”
theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.
“well, i best be off.”
you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”
“we have a case!”
“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.
scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.
and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.
sneaky bastard.
you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.
glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.
newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.
“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.
quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.
you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.
for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.
clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.
“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”
“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”
before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.
holy fucking shit.
you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.
“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.
carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.
“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”
newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.
you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.
“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.
“no magic?” he asked.
“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”
newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”
you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—
as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.
and forward was onto his lap.
you had spoken too soon.
you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.
“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.
“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.
newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”
“newt,” you whispered.
“what, love?”
“please kiss me.”
newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.
you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”
“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”
“i’ll kiss it better.”
#newt scamander x reader#newt scamander#fanfic#fantastic beasts#fantastic beasts and where to find them#fbawtft#newt scamander x y/n#newt scamander x you#newt scamander fluff#fluff#newt scamander imagine
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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.”
--
taglist: @karashaw99 @gracieroxzy @mystic-mara
#fantastic beasts#fbawtft#theseus scamander x reader#theseus scamander#theseus x reader#theseus#hp fanfic#hp fic
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i haven’t been in here in so long but what if i came back and started taking requests for fics again… and what if i turned on the tips option… or made a kofi?.. maybe i’ll do x reader fics but also fics with original characters? maybe character x character? maybe some cute platonic stobin fics?
people can also ask me to write for specific characters i haven’t already done and i could let you know whether or not i know who they are and think i could write for them? :)
ik i’m a good writer and i can write very vivid scenery etc. i just have to get back into it !
#fantastic beasts#newt scamander#theseus scamander#steve harrington#platonic stobin#robin buckley#peter parker#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley x reader#peter parker x reader#theseus scamander x reader#newt scamander x reader#fic requests#stranger things#spider-man
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When were you planning to tell us?: Theseus Scamander x fem!reader
Summary: During their wedding your recently married friends can't stop asking questions about your "mysterious" husband. Little they know he is the same man who has been flirting with you during all the ceremony
Warnings: Drinking a little, I guess? But nothing else except that Jacob and Queenie being unaware of the world around them; Leta and Theseus ot being able to hide their chuckles; and Dumbledore being a funny smartass. Takes place after Dumbledore's secrets and in Au where Leta doesn't die and she wasn't enganged with Thesesus
Requested: yes
Words: Around 1130
Author rambles: This is kind of inspired in a wedding I attended a couple of years ago and the situation fitted quite well with the request
Masterlist Characters I write for
Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ
I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗
Bright smiles, sparky eyes and some tears of pure happiness, that was a quick and accurate way to describe most weddings. Jacob’s and Queenie’s was not an exception to this. A small and intimate ceremony on the bakery, only family and friends attending, perfect for the couple union. While the bride and the groom, now wife and husband, were looking at each other with love-dove eyes, you and the rest of the guests were enjoying the sight.
“She looks beautiful today, even more that normally” You whispered to Theseus who was by your side leaning in the desserts table.
“I still believe you were prettier in your wedding” He replied a small grin playing on his lips.
“You are a charmer with words, Theseus Scamander” Your hands slowly moved to take two glasses of champagne, handing one of them to your companion.
“Only because you deserve it, darling” He took a quick sip of the pinkish beverage, which had been Queenie’s idea.
You would have scolded him for his smarmy antics if it wasn’t for your nosy friends who had been half-listening to your talk. Yeah, a small bakery was definitely not the best place to hold a private conversation. It wasn’t long until Mr and Mrs Kowalski came to your way with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“y/n you never told us you had been married, honey” Queenie sweet voice echoed in your ears. The realization hit you, you had been caught.
“Actually, I still am” Thesus couldn’t help but chuckle at your words.
“And who is the lucky man?” Jacob managed to speak while taking a bite from the nuptial cake “Do we know him?”
Theseus cheeks were starting to tint in a similar tone to his hair. You wondered how an auror like him, who has supposed to be calm and stern in every situation, couldn’t stop that grin from spreading on his face right now. Luckily for the two of you, Leta Lestrange, your best friend since your Hogwarts years (your guardian angel as you should call her from now on), appeared on the scene.
“What is the fuss for?” she joined the group and thanks to her endearing smile and her ability to put the focus on herself in every situation, you could enjoy a few seconds to think what would you say next. You were so relived thanks to her entry that you didn’t even get annoyed when she playfully stole your glass of champagne.
“y/n has just told us that she is married” The bride explained enthusiastically.
“Ohh…” Great, the last thing you needed right now was another person who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Surprisingly, she decided to play along. After all a little fun never hurt anyone “Of course she is, I was the bridesmaid”
“Leta…” You tried to interrupt her in order to finally reveal the truth.
“Wonderful!” Queenie clapped “So you can tell us more about that mysterious husband of hers”
“Yeah y/n, you never told us anything about him” Theseus took a sip of his drink and still he couldn’t hide his smirk.
Oh, he made a big mistake… Never play games with a girl who can play them better, Scamander. You should remind him that later.
“Well, he is the perfect gentleman. Sweet, chivalrous, caring…” You dreamingly looked at the celling “But also a little bossy, stubborn, touchy too. And he always overworks himself with his job to the point its annoying” Your audience was expectant to hear more about it. Theseus tried his best not to look slightly offended while Leta patted his back.
“But you love him, don’t you?” The older Scamander brother asked, his eyes shinning hopefully. One of the many things that made you fall for him since the first day.
“With every piece of my heart” Your gaze was locked in his.
That intimate moment which had somehow grown in a room full of people faded a wide the instance the door’s bell rang, announcing Tina’s and Newt’s arrival in the bakery. God knew what they had been talking about while the rest of you were enjoying the desserts.
“Guys, you will never guess what happened” Jacob said as soon as they came to his sight.
“Y/n is married!” Queenie announced as the sweet gossiper she was.
The young magizoologist’s eyes travelled back and forwards from yours and his brother’s face, clearly confused. The elder Goldstein sister just looked unaware, waiting for an explanation.
“Of course, she is” Newt finally broke the silence “I was the best man”
“You too?” Jacob said surprised “Are we the last ones to discover this?”
“I didn’t know until today either, Mr Kowalski. Although I have been having my suspicions since you two were students. You have never been good at hiding your feelings, Miss l/n”
Dumbledore laughed from the other side of the room where he was leaning on the wall absent-mindedly eating his piece of cake. A privileged position which he took advantage of to listen to the whole discussion.
“Or should I say Mrs Scamander now? Congrats anyway, thanks to your marriage Professor McGonagall owes me ten galleons now” Gasps of shock echoed between the bakery’s walls.
Your husband made himself comfortable, his hands now proudly around your waist in a gentle grip.
“Thanks Professor” he replied.
“When did you make it official if I can ask?”
“Just after he returned from the war. We wanted to keep it simple, Newt and Leta were the only guests” You softly squeezed your husbands hand.
“And when were you planning to tell us?”
“Jacob, sweetie, focus on what is important” His wife corrected him “Why didn’t you tell us?”
You two shrugged the question off. Being honest, you had never truly hidden your union, not intentionally at least. Theseus did not wear his ring on his finger, but in a necklace around his neck. Too afraid that he would lose it in a mission due to his work as an auror; so you decided to do the same. He didn’t keep the gesture of love low-key either. Always calling you pet names or protectively staying by your side. But it was true he did the same for Leta and his brother, and that kisses were always reserved for closed doors for unknown reasons. With those reasons, it was understandable that your friends hadn’t realized sooner you were in fact married. They just took you for an old friend duo. How wrong they were, but as no correction had been said before by either of you they were still ignorant of the fact.
As they say: “Actions speak louder than words” and that was exactly what your husband did. Arms tangled around your hip and lips that were leaning for a kiss which ended up in a resounding applause. In the next years you would receive endless teasing for it, but enjoying the moment you couldn’t care any less about it.
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They Meet You And Your Powers
Preference
Characters: Merlin, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Theseus Scamander
Warnings:
Request: “My magic boys! Please, Merlin, Ron, Harry and Theseus reacting to meeting a girl with "Wanda's powers" and falling in love with her!” Anon
~~~
Merlin
She held the glass bottle full of the healing brew. It had taken days to collect all the herbs and stew the petals to create the antidote. It was going to be the saving grace for the infectious disease plaguing the town.
Merlin was sitting on the staircase to his bedroom, watching (Y/N) as she bustled about preparing the precious brew.
“Do you think it’s going to work?” he asked.
“It better,” she replied, “Gaius is no fool.”
“Which is why he asked you to make the brew instead of me.”
(Y/N) laughed aloud and knocked into a table, the bottle of medicine flying from her hands. As it fell in slow motion, she considered for a second whether to use her magic to save the bottle. But that would reveal herself to Merlin and risk her chances of all of Camelot knowing.
But in that instant a pillow came levitating off Gaius’ cot and cushioned the fall of the bottle.
(Y/N) looked up, astonished to see Merlin with an outstretched hand and golden eyes.
“Merlin, you have magic!”
“Yes,” he said quickly, “I can explain.”
She had her hands over her mouth, “I don’t believe it.”
“It was something I was born with,” he said, a clear panic in his voice, “Nothing evil about it.”
She laughed, “I’m not going to turn you in, Merlin.”
He stared at her, his look of fear turning into one of confusion. “I never picked you to be a supporter of magic, (Y/N).”
“You can’t help what you’re born with,” she shrugged, feeling her own power grow in her fingertips. “You’re not the only one.”
Merlin paused, “What do you mean?”
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes beginning to glow scarlet as ribbons of red mist flew from her fingers. It wrapped around the glass bottle and floated it to her hands.
It was incredible the shift of emotion on Merlin’s face. “(Y/N)!” he cried, “You have magic!?”
“I guess Gaius prefers apprentices with powers.”
They shared a laugh, Merlin shaking his head in wonder. His voice became soft and fond as he said, “You’re incredible, (Y/N).”
Ron
She walked down the halls of Hogwarts with hunched shoulders, trying to keep herself as small as possible. Being an extraordinary student came with an upheaval of consequences.
Students saw her magical abilities as an unfair advantage and full of the potential to be evil. Professors revered her and often requested demonstrations of her talents.
Regardless, (Y/N) sought the solitude of her common room more often than not. There were few that regarded her as a friend and not as a magical abnormality, meaning she avoided social interactions as much as possible.
Another instance was now as a group of Ravenclaws passed her in the hall.
“Oh, look out,” they said, “Here comes the freak.”
She ignored their snickers, escaping down the next corridor, only to be stopped by a flying menace.
“Ah, the wee red witch is upset,” came the grading voice of Peeves the poltergeist. “People should run for their lives!”
“Shut it, Peeves,” a new voice appeared, “Go destroy the trophy room and leave her alone.”
(Y/N) turned around to see Ron Weasley defending her. He was one of those fair few that treated her more kindly than the others.
Peeves blew some raspberries in their direction, floating off to cause more mayhem.
“You alright?” he asked, approaching her.
She sighed, “I’m fine.”
“I bet you could’ve sent him off with that magic of yours,” he said, smiling.
“You think,” she said, a surge of power descending her arms and to her hands. It was involuntary how red mist began to spark between her fingers. “You’re not intimated by it?”
Ron looked at her in awe, “That’s the appeal.” He watched as the red tendrils of magic grew and danced in the air, “I think your magic is amazing.”
She grinned at him, that was until the sound of blowing raspberries returned above them.
“The red witch is at it again!” yelled Peeves, “Harming students, she is!”
(Y/N) grumbled, flicking her wrist and sending ribbons of magic towards the poltergeist. His hands and mouth were immediately bound in red. Another crack of her fingers and the ghost was sent flying through the wall.
Ron laughed aloud, “That was incredible,” he stared at her with clear astonishment. So much so that (Y/N) started to believe she really was something special.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, sending a few threads of magic to play with his robes and hair.
He continued to laugh, “I love you!”
He said it so causally and she knew it was because of the way she took down Peeves, but despite that…
… his words made her blush.
Harry
The library was overly quiet that evening, books lazily floating to their respective shelves. The lamps were beginning to dim, and (Y/N) was peering over into the next cubicle, packing her schoolbag.
Harry Potter was slumped over the table surface, head bent at an uncomfortable angle. He was fast asleep, his glasses digging into his nose.
He was twitching in his sleep, his face beginning to contort as if he were in pain.
He was dreaming, she thought, perhaps having a nightmare. She slung her schoolbag across her shoulder, finding herself drawn to him.
Making sure no one was watching, (Y/N) let tendrils of her magic empower her arms. Her eyes began to glow, and ribbons of red came from her fingers, searching for the open mind of her classmate.
He was starting to mumble, sweat dotting his temples as the red magic went for his dream.
She tried not to watch, keeping his thoughts private as she envisioned a peaceful scene for him to wake up to:
Sun on the Black Lake. A warm breeze across the cheek. Back resting against a mighty tree. Green grass tickling toes. Laughter filling ears. Friends gathered for a summer day outside, free from homework and exams.
(Y/N) knew of his friends and made sure they were there to calmly pull him from the previous nightmare.
His face was now serene as he awoke. He sat up, hands going for the crick in his neck. He caught the last remnants of the red glow in her eyes.
“Hello,” she said awkwardly, “You were mumbling in your sleep.”
Harry shook his head, as if to expel the fleeting tendrils of her magic. “Was that you?”
(Y/N) looked down sheepishly, “I know nightmares aren’t fun.”
He knew of (Y/N) and her extraordinary magic but normally she kept to herself. “How did you do that?”
“Change your dream?” she asked, wringing her hands around her schoolbag strap. “I can change realities and give visions to others. I just put a different picture in your head to cover up the nightmare.”
Harry seemed torn as he considered her, his fingers fidgeting with his own bag. It was long enough that (Y/N) started to back away, embarrassed by what she did.
“I’ll see you around, Harry.”
“Thank you,” he choked out. She turned around as he continued, “That was the first time, in a long time, where I woke up from a good dream.”
She smiled, “You’re welcome – anytime.”
“I might take you up on that,” he said more warmly.
Theseus
“What are you doing here?” she asked, resting against the countertop in the lounge room.
Theseus Scamander, head auror for the offices, was looking at her with an interrogative stare. “I’ve heard a few things floating around.”
“Such as?” she asked, stirring her coffee.
He smirked, “That you have some pretty extraordinary abilities. Things that the wizarding world has never seen before.” He tugged on his vest, “I’m impressed that MACUSA was able to recruit you.”
“Why?” she asked, “Surprised that I’m not one of those villains you need to take down.”
“I’ve had my suspicions,” he said all smug. “Can you show me?”
She scoffed, “I’m not a dancing monkey.”
His smile had a bit of mischief and (Y/N) had the impression that he might’ve been flirting.
“Then I’ll duel you for it.”
She raised her brows, “You don’t want to take me on.”
“I like a challenge.”
“I can tell,” she said, enjoying the banter more than she should. “I could obliterate you.”
He nodded, “You’re not instilling confidence in how you’re not a villain.”
She felt a flicker of power surge to her fingers. The heat was building behind her eyes. This auror was really trying to rouse something out of her and she was embarrassed to say that it was working.
“Oh no,” Theseus said, spotting the light dusting of red appearing between her fingers. “Losing some control there, are you?”
“Are you always this infuriating?” she said lowly.
He kept smiling, “I’m a perfectly pleasant person.” His eyes widened as her power grew, “What are you able to do?”
She sighed deep in her chest, raising her hand and bending her fingers. Rivers of red floated around her palm, matching the color of her eyes.
“Telekinesis and manipulation.” Her coffee mug began to stir itself, red mist levitating the mug between them, “I can invade your mind,” she said darkly, “I could make you see things – believe things.”
Theseus swallowed hard, trying to watch her demonstration of power without much of a reaction. “Fascinating.”
Her blood was boiling, “Had enough? Could you leave me alone now?”
The smirk returned to his face, “If you’re interested in auror work…” he tossed a business card towards her and watched as her magic caught it in midair. “… give me a call.”
He winked at her, and (Y/N) knew it was just the beginning of their relationship. The flirtatious, overconfident wizard was going to be the death of her. But she might as well have some fun with it.
~~~
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Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander
SUMMARY: In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Theseus could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would bring warmth to your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.
PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.1K
WARNINGS: canon-typical things, mentions of smoking and drinking, angst, morally gray reader, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, protective Theseus, etc.
A/N: Lowkey proud of this one, so comments and feedback are Super welcomed! This was based off this request, so thank you SO much anon, this was a blast that might have to be a series. Also Huge thanks to @kalllistos for all the help, couldn’t have been done without you!! Enjoy.
PART II, PART III, PART IV
You fit in so absolutely.
The rim of your glass was still lined with enough sugar to enjoy dwindling sips. Theseus knew it was gin. Your lipstick left a mark on everything you kissed, the pattern was found on your glass, and the cigarette holder balanced between your fingers. You made everything look so serene. Simple.
Scanning the room, you hadn’t seen Theseus yet. However, he, too, fit in—tie properly knotted to show his status and pocket-watch cleverly tucked in his waistcoat. Once he joined you at the secluded booth, he’d complete the idyllic image.
Yet, Theseus lingered for a moment, taking you in. Your confidence was always envious. It worked silently, exuding from your presence alone. Your magnetism couldn’t be credited to magic but to how you evolved, becoming pointed and moving without fault.
Theseus was one of the only ones remaining to know it hadn’t begun that way. He remembered you, a few years below him, always sprinting to class, already late. The professors would scold you, and your confidence was read as insolence. You challenged everything and excelled in doing so, but it only lent itself to trouble. It created a barrier always present between the two of you.
“You’re late.” You sucked in a crackling breath. With pointed eyes, you took his presence in. Even late into the night, he was always so poised. Professional. “I’m risking a lot showing my face here.”
“You look beautiful.” Theseus slid into the leather cushion. The charm always came with his supposed professionalism. It came in waves and never crawled under your skin the way intended. “Relax…It’s fine.”
Unbuttoning his suit jacket’s button, Theseus settled. It was bold of you to accept his invitation to meet so publicly, but he knew you couldn’t resist. You just needed to play your part smartly and get what you want.
“Your promises are too shallow for me to trust.” You crossed your legs, making it easier to lean and be heard. Then, you clicked your tongue against your teeth with sarcasm, “I think I’d rather you arrest me.”
“Unfortunately, I’ve clocked out for the night.” Theseus was an intentional man, a clever man. He was protecting his image just as much as yours. “It’s just you and me.”
“That’s why you wanted to meet here…” You hummed with feigned realization. The muggle restaurant was a precarious cover but equally as rewarding in its purpose. “You know there are better ways to ask someone on a date.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time…” Theseus matched your hum absentmindedly. The banter was a buffer, something to ease into an inevitable unwanted conversation. Reaching into his heavily charmed jacket, he pulled out a file.
It was always a fucking file. The folders were always pristine, never quite full of all the information, just enough of what Theseus was willing to share. It grew over the years of the unorthodox relationship, but you knew not to mistake that for trust.
The figures in the picture were blurry, moving incoherently as they entered a building. The stack of images moved in sequence, following rushedly an exchange that was meant to remain a secret. Without seeing their faces well, you knew who they were, and you held back from using your cigarette roach to burn it all away. Instead, the image repeat over and over before you, but your expression was trained with passivity.
“When did he get out?” You finally met Theseus’ eye. Your composure could fool most, but to a trained eye, your discomfort was obvious.
“A month or so at this point...”
Your laugh was bitter. “So, I’ve been a sitting duck.”
“You’ve been avoiding me...” Theseus countered, his tone just barely teasing. There was truth in jest, as there were plenty of owls following you. You looked at him, knowing what came next. His compassion would get him killed. “...I can help you.”
“Careful.” You cocked your head, musing a buried thought. “You’re getting awful sentimental these days.”
“Don’t you want those off?” Theseus leaned in like you had, voice low. Although his fingers were threaded together, he pointed to the bracelets on your wrists.
You smirked, “And ruin my outfit?”
Rarely did you acknowledge them so explicitly. The bracelets—admonitors—dampened your magic by tracking your every spell. They made you feel like a child with a trace spell. Part of you wished you could say you grew accustomed to the constant surveillance, but you grew weary of lying.
The offer was too sweet, and you wanted more than just your magic untraced. “What’s the catch?”
“You help the Ministry find him.” Theseus was trying to protect you, but you were too filled with vindication to notice.
“You mean work for you.”
He frowned, correcting you, “With me.”
“There truly isn’t a difference in your world.” You spat. The ministry was the reason you were in this mess; they branded your cuffs as a daily reminder that your autonomy was shared. “You’d be using me as bait.”
The conversation would go in circles, as it always had. It was the reason more time was added between meetings. Every time you left, that bitter taste grew stronger, and it was difficult to put it aside to face Theseus again and again. This was different—more threatening, but your anger prevailed.
“I won’t do it.”
“Catching him will clear your name.” Theseus all but begged. He remained poised, but you knew it would only last for so long. Those around you looked your way; interest piqued in conversation they weren’t privy to.
“I’m not innocent.” You were blunt. You had been called cold because of it. But it was a trait that you favored, especially at times like this. You wanted to see Theseus break.
You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Theseus chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were children.
The table held your drink, forgotten and diluted. The air was tense and hushed. Theseus needed to move fast, knowing you were moments away from fleeing. But he knew he had just enough time as you lit another cigarette, this time not for vanity but to quell your nerves.
Your nails tapped on the base of your cocktail glass. Your fingertips twitched, begging to satisfy their itch for magic. You debated on if your actions would be worth it. Theseus decided for you, hand flexing to replenish your drink.
Your lipstick remained fresh but still marked the glass. It was perfectly cold, calming the swarm of nerves that hit you. “It’s a bit strong.”
“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.” Theseus appreciated your teasing; it meant he was doing something right.
“This place is quite charming, you know,” You looked around before shifting forward even more. It may have been improper, but you leaned over the table, elbows resting comfortably. “Next time, we’ll have to venture and order food.”
“Sure.” Theseus agreed, body language mirroring yours. To anyone else, the pair of you would look smitten. “Anytime you’d like.”
“Anytime?” Your eyebrow ticked up as you tapped at the ashtray. “Come on, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around as long as you have.” Your knuckles crept forward, almost bumping his as they dragged to the middle of the linen cloth atop the table. “Truly—We haven’t—”
You stopped yourself with an uncharacteristic laugh. A tinge spread below Theseus’ freckles, assuming your humor was chastising him. But you were laughing at yourself, at how ridiculous you felt. You were enjoying yourself.
The feeling felt foreign, so you prickled. “Be practical, Theseus.”
Your worlds barely overlapped, and where it had highlighted the worst parts of each of you. Your world was dark and hidden; you stole and bribed. You were suitable for it and resisted morphing into the image Theseus expected of you.
He was as kind as any Hufflepuff, putting other needs first and blindly placing his kindness. He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by sitting across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Theseus’ incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.
“I need to know the full story.” His voice was commanding, betraying his desperation.
Theseus looked warm, contrasting the winter blizzarding outside. A bubble was created that was becoming suffocating, but with him across you, it seemed just marginally bearable. His hand flexed, skimming yours, hoping to regain your attention.
“You already know how it ends. What does the rest matter?” You thought to sink back, but you chased the small contact. “I want nothing to do with this. With him.”
“I’ll be there the entire time,” Theseus promised, voice low and steady, reflecting his sincerity. You could make out the warmth he was willing to share, but you weren’t willing to accept it wholly.
“And my interests?”
Theseus’ expression fell slightly at your evasive rejection. It reminded him of his position, of his strained relation to you—what he was supposed to do but always found a reason to put off.
“It depends on where they lie.”
In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Theseus could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would bring warmth to your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.
You wished his gaze would turn you to stone; that way, you could avoid everything else. Instead, it made you melt, it made you pliable in way you opposed with others. There was a suspicion he kept returning just because of that—despite your bluff and his willful ignorance, you weren’t made of stone, and deep down, he knew that. Probably not consciously, but he did.
You always came back. Or he did—another indistinguishable something. You could still feel his fingers reaching for yours. It almost made you cave. Yet, your back met the bench of the booth, and your hand drew away as you placed your cigarette on your lips.
Although you were still present, Theseus watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Theseus’ eyes were pleading, and you went to blame his naivety, but you found something distinct there. The reason you were here tonight was not for a favor.
It was an ultimatum, not a request.
“When was this decided?” You asked. You thought Theseus came alone, and now the naivety fell on you. There were too many eyes on you now to dismiss the crowd as solely muggles. You fell so perfectly into the trap that all you could do was laugh.
“I wanted to keep you out of this,” Theseus admitted. It was the truth, but he knew what needed to be done. The greater good, you could already hear his defense. “This is the only way.”
“Your way.” You shook your head. Another laugh. “And what happens when he kills me? Hmm?”
“He won’t.” Another promise that made you sick. “I’ll be there the whole ti—
“Then you, Theseus—” Venom dripped from your every pointed word. From the corner of your eye, you saw how the undercover aurors were ready to respond to your agitation. If they wanted a spectacle, you were moments from providing it. “— are ill-prepared for what he’s willing to do.”
“You need to trust me.” Theseus attempted to regain the conversation but failed to recognize any mending he made was lost.
“And why should I trust the man that watches my every move?”
Theseus put you in this position; he was the wizard who held your wrist tightly all those years ago to secure the admonitors. For your own good, he told you. He believed it, and yet again, you found yourself at the hands of his so-called mercy.
“And if I decline?” You weren’t in such a position to, but Theseus understood your question only brought ruination.
“The only way you're walking out of here is because of me.”
A threat, how original. Your cigarette threatened to burn your lips. The ash tarnished the linen that fell over your lap. Apart of you hoped it would set the entire thing aflame. Maybe then you’d have a chance at a genuine escape. For now, though, you resolved to the final word.
“You think you are blessed with morality—” You finished your drink, the taste becoming sour. “—yet what sits before me is nothing but a boy that’s only purpose is to follow orders blindly.”
#q#theseus scamander#theseus#scamander#theseus scamander x reader#theseus scamander fluff#theseus scamander angst#theseus scamander x f!reader#newt scamander x reader#newt scamander#fantastic beasts fic#FUCK jkr#fuck terfs
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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.
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250 Followers Writing Celebration
thank you so so much to everyone who's followed me, and i truly hope my writing brings you bits of joy ❤️
i'm going to try out a writing celebration! send me requests through my askbox this week and next, and i'll get through what i can; i'll post on the relevant days, but you can send a request for any of them any day; i usually write fic-length works, but to write more, i might try to stick to blurb-length for some of these (i always get carried away lol); they'll all be reader inserts per my usual, so send me a character (list below) you want the reader to be paired with with any request
this week and next i'll be writing according to these themes, feel free to mix it up or get creative:
Multiverse Monday 📚
send me an au and character
Tropey Tuesday 🎭
send me a trope and character
Weepy Wednesday💧
send me an angsty prompt and character
Therapeutic Thursday 🤕
send me a hurt / comfort or similar prompt and character
Fluffy Friday 💕
send me a fluffy prompt and character
Song-fic Saturday 🎶
send me a song and character, and i'll write something that comes to mind from the lyrics, or theme, or vibe of it
Smutty Sunday 🔥
send me a smut request and character... 18+ only, no anon requests will be taken for smut, MDNI
characters i'll write for:
marauders 🐾🐺🦌 Sirius / Remus / James
other era HP ⚡️ Fred / Theseus
marvel 🕷️ TASM!Peter / Billy Russo / Bucky Barnes
star wars 💫 Poe Dameron
other fandoms 🍊 Tangerine
other 🤔 you can ask for someone not listed here, but no promises (also feel encouraged to ask for someone else but put someone listed as a second choice)
#writing celebration#requests open#fanfiction#ria250#marauders#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#fred weasley#theseus scamander#tangerine#marvel#tasm!peter#star wars#poe dameron#smut#fluff#angst#hurt comfort#reader insert
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