#Theseus is very happy

[freedomforthewin]

First Steps—An Imagine

Imagine Baby Newt and Kid Theseus are in the living room, when Newt slowly gets up and stands for a few seconds. Newt takes a wobbly step towards Theseus, then another one. Theseus gets excited but tries to be subtle about it so as to not scare his little brother. He extends his arms out toward Newt, smiling encouragingly at Newt. Newt slowly toddles over and stops when he reaches Theseus’s outstretched hands.

“Yayyy!” Theseus cheers, picking Newt up and hugging him.

“You did it, Newt!” he says happily. “You walked!” Theseus pulls Newt out of the hug and holds him. “You walked! And not only that, I was the first person you walked to!”

The baby brother smiles shyly at Theseus and averts his gaze. Theseus kisses him on the forehead before setting him down. Newt crawls over to Theseus’s lap and lies against it. Theseus smiles down at Newt and lays a gentle hand on Newt’s side. He strokes Newt’s side with his thumb.

[muppetbyers]

idk man but i think theres such a connection between will being possessed in s2 and like 'what happens when my boy is gone' and will giving the painting to mike under el's name. just like... will being replaced and then replacing himself. and like his entire person was being replaced by the mf, but also everything that he said was from el with the painting and speech was intrinsically his and his alone. and how his arc since s1 has been about hiding but also being right there. and how its all tied to his queerness. and how ideally in s5 this should lead to will not hiding/moving on from his identity and his feelings, but instead embracing them.

[purplecladmerchant]

Those are our adventuring OCs and I get to try new fun brushes on a draw if I want!

[caffeinatedbison]

Happy (late) birthday Hatsune Miku

*pats shoulder* this most likely a computer can fit so much angst

[lacollectionneuse1967]

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

[primordial-shade]

Minotaur Partner Headcanons

Hellloooo I’m back, very sorry for being away but honestly I uploaded those previous two posts on a whim and came back from Spain to my tumblr having loads of notifications. SO thank you and here’s another segment of my Monster Lover Headcanons with the Minotaur! One a bit of a Greek fix lately so here we go.

Background

Minotaurs. Big beefy and sweet as all hell.

Headcanon for how they started? Easy, out Mr Original, Asterion the sweet poor lamb (BTW for those who maybe don’t know that was the Minotaur’s original name) did actual kill the sacrifices but tried to help them but they all fled in fear of him and died in the Labyrinth except one, a lovely lady I’m going to call Hemera.

She ended up staying in the labyrinth with Asterion, falling in love and determined to get them both out.

Theseus fucks along and when he’s about to kill her beloved she knocks him the fuck out, uses the yarn to get them all out, then fucks off with her hubby to the Mountains and lets everyone think Theseus killed him by leaving behind part of his broken horn.

They start a farm up in the mountains (With support from Asterions mother Persiphae and his sisters and eventually his brother in Law Dionysus who are happy Asterion is alive and happy cuz FUCK MINOS.)

Eventually they have several kids (Adorable as fuck) and a thriving mountain farm that the kiddos inherited.

As such Minotaurs are all related, and as such they often seek human partners.

Minotaurs like in mountainous regions, often protected by the God Dionysus, whose wife is all their many times great aunt who was forced to marry Theseus and tried to kill him and only gave him the yarn so her brother could kill him and use it to get out we love you Adriane <3

They grow lots of things but they are famous for wine 😉

White, red, rose, dessert. They make every type and its so fucking good.

Maybe you’re a wine coniseur, maybe you decided to go visit the farms on holiday, maybe you’re a local they trade with or a worker on the farm.

Needless to say when you catch a Minotaurs eye, you are staying for good.

SFW

Big sweethearts. Big beefy adorable sweethearts. Muscled as fuck and strong, with big soulful eyes and soft fur and hnghhghhg

I got fucking sidetracked

Anyway, Minotaur’s are very family orientated and all work on the huge collective farms in various roles. Don’t worry, wether or not you can contribute to the farm is moot, you’re their love and you don’t have to prove yourself in anyway and also if you’re human they kinda get overprotective and its like, ‘no please don’t help we don’t want you to get bruised or tired we love you just go and relax and let us do all the hard work baby <3.’

The hardest of workers, baby if you have a minotaur partner one of your main jobs is teaching them not to overwork themselves because they just wanna be good and make sure everything is good and they can’t stand doing nothing or not taking care of you.

If they could physically carry you around all the time, and this is more about your want to walk because they could carry you around all the time, you’re their Love, their sweet delicate loves. Please let them carry you around, it makes them so happy.

Their favourite thing in the world is taking care of you.

You’re hungry? They will literally go out to the farm and find the juiciest, best tasting produce and will hand feed it to you.

You have achy muscles? Oh poor baby, let them get their big strong hands and soothe all those aches and pains away.

If you do the same for them??

Ooooh, love, love love love.

They’re favourite thing? Honestly is when you lay down and they can curl up and put their head on your lap, letting you scratch their heads and between their horns.

Ooooh you scratch between their horns or behind their ears?? Very happy Minotaur, very happy wiggly minotaur. You’ll be lucky if you can get up for the next few hours, this is a pleasure that is rare and cherished.

They will also always show off. They can’t help it they just so want to impress you.

They’ll play fight with other Minotaurs in front of their loves, pick up heavy things, lift you up and carry you around.

They love making flower crowns too, and any crafts they take up they’ll make you something.

They love being praised. They absolutely love it, please praise them. Tell them how strong they are, how sweet they can be, how soft there fur is or how lovely their eyes are. They will melt, making soft little ‘moo’ sounds out of sheer pleasure.

They will also praise you constantly.

Your talents, your looks, even how you breathe. If it can be praised they will do it.

They also take a little longer to fall in Love, it’s a long term distrust thing, but once they do they fall *hard*.

And they will do anything in their power to prove this love to you. They love hard and they love deeply.

Bless their hearts but for a long time they’ll probably act like a Minotaur in love until one moment when they see you holding  a baby Minotaur, or if the sun catches on your face the right way or even just sitting together and drinking something warm and suddenly it’s like a switch goes off in their heads.

“I love this person. ILOVE THIS PERSON!!” Nothing but joy and love and warmth.

Very physically affectionate. Hugs, cuddles, handholding, licking, kissing….

Yeah, their love language is love and praise. Which leads us into

NSFW:

So Minotaurs are big. In every way.

Not only are they generally built like strongmen. All muscles and covered in a nice thick layer of fat, male and female Minotaur are built this way.

Big muscles, big breasts and pecs, fat cocks and pussies. Everything is big and ready for you to feast upon.

One of the major things they like doing to you is lick.

Their tongues are thick and long, and they love to lick the taste of your salty sweat from your skin, to lick your salty semen and tangy arousal from your pussy or cock. They long to spread you open and lock you clean or flick their tongue over your most sensitive parts.

Sit on their face. Don’t give them any bullshit about being to heavy they are fucking Minotaurs and you will sit on their face so help them Dionysus.

Suffocation??? Who gives a shit about that, fucking sit on them and let them eat your ass/pussy out!!!!! If they die they die, and they will die with no regrets.

They are so soft with you though, loving touches and praising how good you taste and feel around and in them. How good you sound calling their names and begging for them. Such a darling thing, a sweet pretty love.

Yeah they are the kings/queens of accidental overstim. It’s always just one more orgasm, one more sweet baby, just give me one more. God they love you so much, please let them keep going, please just one more orgasm, just one more sweet orgasm.

Your legs will be shaking, you’ll be cockdumb/pussydrunk to the point you can barely speak but you keep going because you love them so much and gods it feels so fucking good.

You will be covered in fluids. Cum, semen, spit, all over the place. Covering your skin, filling your mouth, filling you. There will not be an area untouched by them and you love it.

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

Theseus' Ship

Happy 6th anniversary to Hollow Knight C:

This is a very peculiar piece as it's more personal to my work rather anything game related specifically.

It's to the passing time, the shift and the changes that come along with it. Much like this game changed my life for the better from a spot I felt I was rather struggling to get out of, the artwork represents the 'us' that remain despite the changes.

As Undertale quote says; Despite everything, it's still you.

Different pieces, different times but it's still us and it will continue to be us, even with parts lost and replaced.

The drawing represents my start of drawing Hollow Knight art as well as my current time of it. Both sides take inspiration from my old and recent art that have Hollow in them, as they are who I got most attached to from this game and it shows.

Here's to the future~

[ellebakers]

✭・. IF ONLY YOU WERE MINE.

Theseus Scamander x reader

Summary : Theseus doesn't really like you and his brother being close. he doesn't want to admit it, but he's jealous of your bond. so rather than confessing his feelings to you, he decides to make you pay for it.

Warnings : jealousy, language, some angst but fluff at the end.

"i beg you y/n, come with me to this dinner."

the girl growled. "newt, you're a big boy, i think you can handle a family dinner."

"no no no, you don't understand, you're the only person who understands my passion, my family has no interest in it. please."

again she growled in frustration."okay, but please get out of my office before your brother comes here for lunch, I don't want him to get the wrong idea."

newt smiled shyly. "because you don't want him to think that something is going on between us, so you will still have every chance with him."

“i think I will reconsider my decision.”

"okay, okay, i'm leaving, see you tonight."

.

ten minutes later there was a knock on the door of Y/n's office.

"come in."

"hello darling."

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks turning red. "hello thésé, please sit down, i'll finish my file and i'm yours."

théséus let his eyes slide along your body, the dress you wore was slightly open at the front, leaving the top of your breasts visible, he licked his lower lip while thinking "if only you were mine".

"so i saw my brother coming out of your office, what did he wanted ?"

he didn't want to ask in a harsh way, but his jealousy got the better of him.

you frowned, clearly surprised by his tone. "he invited me to your family dinner tonight and-"

"why did he invited you ?" once again, his jealousy prevailed.

"excuse me ? he asked me to accompany him as a friend."

theseus sneered "newt has no friends."

again, he didn't mean to be mean but his emotions controlled him in the moment.

"what's got into you ? you're talking about your brother, he's an exceptional person with a big heart and—"

"are you sleeping with him ?"

"what the — get out of my office ! "

theseus clutched the stitch to contain himself. "very well." then without the slightest glance for you, he left the room.

.

the day passed slowly and with difficulty, you couldn't help thinking about these’s behavior. why did he say those horrible things ? one thing is certain, you were not going to stop there, and tonight, you will hold him to account.

unfortunately, what you didn't know was that by not answering these’s last question, he had to draw a conclusion, newt and you were together. that's why a few hours after your argument, he went to find leta and asked her to accompany him to the family dinner. one thing was sure, an emotional evening was waiting for you.

.

It was 7 p.m. sharp when newt rang your doorbell. when you opened the door to him, he greeted you with his usual shy smile and a rose.

"good evening y/n you are resplendent."

"thank you, you are very elegant too."

and with that, he offered you his arm which you accepted and side by side you set off for the family home.

.

"y/n my dear, how happy i am to see you !" mrs. scamander greeted you with a warm hug.

"it's a pleasure to see you too."

once newt's parents greeted you, you walked into the dining room where the dinner was being held, and stopped in your tracks when you saw theseus sitting next to leta. what was she doing here ? were they together ? newt, who had just seen them, turned to you to analyze your reaction, he was worried about you, but you gave him a reassuring smile and decided to sit down in front of leta, you didn't want to meet these’s gaze.

"hello leta."

"good evening y/n i'm glad to see you." it was obvious that she did not know what she was doing here. never before had she been invited to the scamanders, but when theseus had asked her, she had not been able to say no to her friend, exactly as you.

the hosts of the evening settled down and the meal began. what a fucking night you thought.

the longer the evening passed, the more you wanted to run away. between the inappropriate comments of newt's uncle, the fact that his parents are hardly interested in him and the looks that theses gave you, you didn't know where to stand.

"we are so proud of you theseus, you have a great career."

you looked at newt who lowered his head, a feeling of sadness invaded you as well as anger towards his parents. mr and mrs scamander were lovely, but for them, newt's job wasn't good enough. you then took his hand and squeezed it lightly to comfort him. seen from the outside, this gesture meant nothing more than friendship, but for these it was a declaration of war. how could his little brother, the person to whom he confided his feelings for you, do such a thing to him ? and how could you, the woman he's loved for years let him down. he then did the only thing that could make you react, he turned to leta, took her face in his hands and kissed her.

your world stopped spinning for a split second, but for you it felt like it had gone on for hours, the man you had been in love with since your first year at hogwarts was standing in front of you, kissing one other, the worst was that once the kiss was over, a kiss that leta did not return, théseus turned to you and smirked at you. a silence fell over the room, a dead silence that suffocated you. you felt the tears welling up, so you cleared your throat and said "please excuse me, but i need to get some fresh air."

.

once outside, and once assured that no one could hear you, you let the tears come out. it's was as if someone had stuck a dagger in your heart, your head was spinning, your heart was beating hard, you tried to comfort yourself as much as you could by embracing yourself with your arms, but your body kept convulsing with every tear that came out.

"y/n."

you wiped away the last tears with the back of your hand and turned to the person who had just entered the garden.

"leta, congratulations, i'm sure you'll be happy with–"

"i don't like him, at least not like that, he's my friend, that's why I agreed to come here, but that's all. i want you to know that i'm sorry. but i think he loves you and that's why—"

"leta, please stop. he doesn't love me. a person who's supposed to love you doesn't hurt you like that. i love him, i’ve been in love with him for years, but from what i've seen, it's not reciprocated."

the brunette approached you and hugged you.

"i know how dumb he is sometimes, but believe me when i tell you he loves you, that's why he acts so stupid."

"but he hurt me leta, it hurts so much."

"i know, but try to talk to him."

"not tonight, all i want is to go back to bed."

she nodded and went to get newt to bring you home. back home and after newt told you a thousand times how sorry he was and how he was going to kill his brother as soon as he sees him, you washed and got into bed, you fell asleep after crying for a few more hours.

the day at work tomorrow will be complicated.

.

the next day you woke up with a headache, probably due to the fact that you cried most of the night and during your sleep. it took you a while to get up, a time during which you decided whether to go to work or run away. but you weren't a coward and it was out of the question for theseus to ruin your work.

once your breakfast swallow and change you set off.

when you arrived at the office, a small box was placed on top of the desk, as well as a letter.

"y/n here is a box of your favorite chocolates, if some are missing it's probably because of teddy. with all my sympathy. "

— newt.

you laughed lightly and got to work. you were immersed in your work when there was a knock on the door.

"come in."

"y/n..."

you lifted your head sharply recognizing the voice.

"what are you doing here theseus ?"

the fact that you used his full name hurt him because he knew how much he had hurt you and that it would be difficult to get you back.

"can we talk ?"

"no, now, please get out of my office, i have a lot of work and—"

"i was jealous."

"what ?"

"i was, no, i still am. i’m still jealous, i don't know how long you and newt have been together but—"

you growled when you got up, exasperate. "newt and i are just friends, how many times do i have to tell you ? plus he's in love with tina, and. arghh. why am i justifying myself to you ! i don't even know why i'm talking to you, you hurt me last night theseus, and you want to know why ?" that's it, the machine was launched, everything you held back from telling him was about to come out. "because i’ve been in love with you since our first year at hogwarts, and for all those years my love for you has only grown. a love that hurt me every time you talked about another woman, every time you looked at another. but last night, last night this love made me suffer like never before, and i'm tired, tired of waiting for you to finally deign to see me, when i know very well that you will never see me. on this, excuse me but i have files to return."

it was a pretext, but you couldn't wait for him to answer you. as you hurried through the main hall, these ran after you, calling out to you. "y/n." no. "y/n stop." no. "Y/N Y/L/N STOP IMMEDIATELY, IT'S AN ORDER. "

for the first time, theseus scamander had yelled at you, right in the middle of the hallway, a hallway full of colleagues who had stopped and watched you.

"don't. give. me. ord–"

"shut up and listen to me. i love you, i love you more than anything. i've loved you since the first day i saw you in the third cabin of the hogwarts express. i kept on loving you more and more every day. the women i've dated were there to get you out of my head, but despite that you haunt my thoughts, do you have any idea what you're doing to me ? i could die for you, and i'm sorry that i hurt you, i could never forgive myself, but damn it, having you by my side and not being able to call you mine is the hardest thing to live."

for the second time in two days, your world stopped, but this time, the man you love had just opened his heart to you and in front of everyone, you knew what you had to do.

you took a safe step towards him, took him by his jacket and kissed him like you had always wanted to. he didn't have to be asked to return your kiss, his hands were wandering all over you, and when you ran out of air you stopped and whispered to him.

"i love you." he smiled at you and ran his thumb over your lips. "i love you even more."

then to the cheers of your colleagues, you kissed each other a second time.

[nicercymybeloved]

Very attached to the idea that if Percy had been a woman she would have been named Ariadne. Like, I know that Persephone is a popular fanon name for female Percy because it's a nice way to keep her nickname. I've also seen Andromeda used by some because she lives a long life with Perseus in the myths. But Sally would have at least considered it right? Because Ariadne's a popular female figure in mythology, linked to both Theseus and Dionysus, two other famous figures in mythology. She was a clever mortal princess who was dealt a bad hand because her father's arrogance allowed him to think that he could get away with defying a god, just like how Poseidon's arrogance allowed him to think that he could get away with breaking the pact he made with Zeus and Hades. And in the end, Ariadne survived both her family's legacy and Theseus's abandonment, becoming Dionysus's immortal wife in both the PJO universe and in many retellings of the myth of the Minotaur and Theseus in real life. Ariadne got to live out her happy ending just like how Perseus did in mythology, which is the main reason why Sally even gave Percy the name Perseus to begin with. Am I delusional to think that Sally would have given a female Percy the name Ariadne? Who the fuck knows. But I'm so attached to the idea that it literally just supersedes any other name I could have come up with

[hostilecandle]

Not sure why so many seem so convinced Saltburn is supposed to be a class commentary or critique. I'm curious, what in the movie specifically made you think that? Oliver does not hate them because they are rich while others suffer, he hates them because they have what he wants. He wants what they have and be who they are. He wants to consume it and hoard it. This is a movie about desire and obsession. He wants it for himself, to "Lick the fucking plate."

This is a movie about longing and greed and hubris. Its about The Minotaur trapped in the labyrinth that is Saltburn. "If you get sick of us you can leave, I promise." "I believed him." Its about Icarus flying to close to the sun. Its a retelling of Theseus, one in which he doesn't win.

There are moments that highlight inequality in class and race but they're not used as a talking point for why its bad or that it needs to be fixed. Instead they are meant to highlight the comparisons and contrasts of Farleigh and Oliver. To show how they're foils and to highlight that they are outsiders. They're used as lies and steppingstones for Oliver to get closer to the family, just another way to manipulate them to get what he wants. *We* want to see the real world justice and for Farleigh to get what he deserves and to seen as equal. The movie does not. The movie, in the end, has nothing to do with class or racial inequality. And while a point can be made that its a bit tasteless to be used as simply a thematic point without any real substance (a point I will not disagree on), the movie isn't about that.

Oliver does not want to "Eat The Rich" or dismantle the system. He himself is already very privileged in society. He just wants more. He doesn't want to disband the classes, he just wants consume what is before him. He's trapped himself in his own greed and obsessions and is happy there. He wanted to consume and own their beauty. He wants to be the Cattons. If you're looking for a fil to damn the rich for being rich, you've come to the wrong place,

Like you are all completely entitled to not like the movie for any reason, or to dislike or even hate how they handled the moments of class discussion. But like, at least understand and be aware that's not what the movie is about when trying to give a critique. At least be upfront about what you didn't like rather than attempt to change the message and plot of the film itself.

[noizybreadstick]

Welcome to my pseudo intellectual ramble.

I love how Ship of Theseus Boothill is and how it has made me think a bit more about it. I haven’t finished the story of Penacony yet but I’m just gonna ramble from what I know from his backstory and what else I’ve seen.

Below are spoilers about Boothill’s backstory. Bless you if you’ve managed to avoid them so far. Can’t be me, that shit was everywhere.

Boothill from neck down is robot which got me thinking about the thought experiment of the Ship of Theseus.

For those who don’t know about the thought experiment allow me to explain; say a museum has found Theseus’ ship. Then the ships parts slowly start to rot and every piece has to be replaced until there are no longer any original parts of the ship. Then the question is posed; is it the same ship?

You can see where I’m heading with this. I have seen this question also posed the same way when it comes to science fiction and replacing body parts. I have also discussed this topic with my friends. I have my stance and answer to this question but when it relates to Boothill allow me to elaborate.

Now, how this relates to Boothill. Boothill, neck down, is all robot from what we’ve seen. Even his voice has a very slight robotic sound and he has vocal synthesisers that can be tampered with so, dare I say, from chin down he’s robotic, even his eyes are cybernetic. When it comes to his body he sure as hell went full force replacing every plank of wood.

My answer to this thought experiment is; as long as it still has the spirit and meaning of the ship I think it still is Theseus’ ship. With Boothill though, it’s a bit more of a complex answer.

Boothill’s mentality is no longer of the happy go lucky boy running around on the farm, daughter in his arms, and song on his lips. Theseus’ ship was nuked and wants revenge. Boothill is no longer who he was and is steadfast in ripping up the planks. It is not a gradual decline of rot but an active tearing up and destroying.

Is Boothill the same man despite his cybernetic enhancements? My answer: No, no he’s not. And he probably never will be. There is no rebuilding this ship.

[theanxiousbookdevourer]

Rambling About Dusa's Companion Dialogue in Hades (Part 1)

Major spoilers for Hades.

So... Dusa. Or, more specifically, Dusa's Companion.

Okay, so I love Dusa.

She has such sweet cut-ins when you summon her, saying things like "Your gal's right here!"

She also says a lot of things while fighting with us, including "I'm tougher than I look!"

One of my favorites is her "I'm not afraid of snakes!" when facing Lernie.

She called me out for summoning Hades...

Meg, by the way, is very surprised to see Dusa with us.

Dusa's pretty apologetic.

(Sorry, bad screenshot, but it says: "I really hate this part of the job, Miss Meg!")

Dusa will comment on our enemies...

... but for the most part, people don't say much about her. (Though I do like Theseus's "Dah!")

She's not so pleased to fight the big boss, though, and he's not all that happy about it either.

She also has some special dialogue for Charon.

I love the things when leaving, such as "Whew, you made it!"

Most of the time, though, she really has to go.

She's always on our side, though.

I have more to say, so I think I'll need a part two for this, but in case it wasn't blatantly obvious, I love Dusa and her Companion dialogue. I'm glad I didn't stop with just Meg, Than, and Sisyphus.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I spent way too much time on what is essentially a shitpost...

But anyways. Post-Meursault road trip AU because it's funny to me and I couldn't rest until I drew this. (Read right to left.)

Basically, Sigma gets the information needed to stop Fukuchi but Fyodor escapes with the help of Hohol. Cat thief is alive and the four of them escape the prison and have to chase after Fyodor, leading to an impromptu road trip none of them want. Along the way, they pick up Adam to help with tracking him down.

Chuuya speaks to everyone else but is very adamant about not talking to or responding to Dazai at all - giving him the cold shoulder, basically. Dazai can't decide if he is more insulted that Chuuya isn't talking to him or that he's resisting his attempts at goading him through sheer determination. Adam is concerned at how tired Chuuya is and keeps making occasional offers to drive but he knows Chuuya's driving because he needs a distraction. Sigma is terrified someone is going to snap and he's going to get caught in the crossfire. Cat girl is having the time of her life.

(If you can't read my shoddy handwriting, here's the dialogue:

Thief: "Did you know that even with seatbelts, people die all the time in car crashes?"

Thief: "I thought that was interesting."

Adam: "Master Chuuya, if you are getting too tired, I would be happy to switch -"

Chuuya: "Nah, 'm good."

Adam, musing to himself: "The majority of accidents are caused by human error. If human drivers were replaced by androids, the roads would be safer."

Adam: "By which I mean the latest autonomous models, like myself. Those 'self-driving AI' are a disgrace."

Dazai, muttering after flicking a crumpled paper: "Chuuya, pay attention to me.")

@single-use-ship-of-theseus You get it!!!

[jakes3resin]

gosh!! magic au!! theseus! chaos of having at the base and it’s like two bucky. gale would definitely be shocked!

That au really hit me like a fever dream, my dear anon. I was thinking about the Twin Cleven AU and the Blond Bucky bit I added when I remembered I tacked on a tiny Theseus Easter egg. 30 minutes later I had Magic AU in my drafts with no memory of writing it.

But I've sketched out some thoughts for you and for those who are interested (please keep in mind the last time I watched Fantastic Beasts was a few years ago so I don't remember much):

Bucky's a Scamander by his father (Theseus and Newt's uncle) but goes by his mother's maiden name as he was taken in by her brother and his wife.

Both his parents were magic, but they died near the end of the First World War. Bucky stayed with the Scamanders for a little while before eventually going to America before he turned 4. Theseus was very close with him, and they were occasionally mistaken as father and son due to the age difference (Theseus was a war hero during the First World War if I remember correctly?) (Also that could be an AU now that I think about it but not rn)

He has a bit of a British accent, comes out more when he's using magic. Or when he's around his cousins. First time Buck hears it, he just about faints.

Went to Hogwarts solely because his parents went there, and he wanted to feel close to them. Not sure what House but leaning Hufflepuff. He seems like he'd be happy there.

Enjoyed the school somewhat, but he dealt with some bullying due to his American upbringing as well as some of the students still remembered Newt and bullied him for that connection.

His favorite animal is still the unicorn. It's just not extinct like he said to Buck. What can I say? Every Scamander is good with magical animals.

Had an accidental falling out with the Scamander family who wanted him to move permanently to England and stay with them during his schooling, but he prefered spending his summers in America and winter holidays in the castle.

Came home before he turned 18 (I guess started Hogwarts young for his grade? Idk.) And decided to blend in to Muggle/No-Maj society by going to college and later joining the Air Force.

After Bucky's revelation to the RAF pilots, one of them writes home saying he met Theseus Scamander's cousin! This gets passed through Wizarding society until it lands in the ears of Theseus who didn't have a clue his cousin was in England, let alone serving in a Muggle unit. And after hearing about the death toll, he gets scared.

Theseus resolves to pop down there and check in on his cousin. And unknowingly reeks havoc upon Thorpes Abbotts.

Looks like this:

(This is in a nebulous point before Curtis' death because he deserves to be alive my baby boy)

Literally everyone that sees him is flabbergasted because 1) Major Egan is handsome but he never dresses like That and 2) Major Egan is supposed to be flying back from a mission right now. Word travels through base, and it's alight with rumors.

Theseus gets dragged to Kidd's office because literally everyone is freaking out, and he's quite confused why everyone keeps calling him Bucky. He tries to explain that he's Theseus and that he's here to see his cousin John, but every time he speaks the people around him all jump (its cause his accent spooks them. That accent should not be coming from someone who looks so much like Bucky in their mind. Boy are they in for a rude awakening.)

Bucky flies back in, and after interrogation, he doesn't even get a chance to change clothes before he's being dragged to Kidd's office. Buck and a few of the boys follow utterly confused. If Bucky's in trouble, Buck's not just gonna stand by.

Theseus happily greets Bucky when he walks into the office, and the pair have an okay reunion before Theseus states that he's here to check on his younger cousin, heavily implying that he's here to transfer Bucky to a British outfit as he's a British citizen and their family connections want to keep him safe (really a Wizard one but among Muggles he's better at speaking around the issue)

Thus an argument breaks out. Bucky's accent also comes out, and nearly everyone around him loses their minds.

Buck really, really does not want to talk about what that accent does to him. It's confusing and concerning. (Clegan are together, but when your partner busts out the London Accent, well that's a gamechanger)

Anyways idk where it goes after that, but now everyone has to deal with the fallout that Bucky is British and has a nearly identical cousin who pops in to check on him.

[imasexypotato]

Clegan fantastic beasts and where to find them AU Fic idea:

So this won't leave my brain, and I need someone to write this! 😩

(They meet before the first movie, and cross paths again in the third movie)

Theseus Scamander and Gale Cleven (I don't know what other name to give him in this AU) meet and fight together during the war and grow close. They're both wizards.

Gale falls in love with him but doesn't say anything.

Once the war is over, Theseus has to return home, but promises to keep in contact with Gale through letters.

Over the next few years Gale sends him letters and eagerly awaits his own in return. Theseus never responds.

Over time, Gale stops sending letters, resentment towards his friend growing stronger and stronger.

Theseus returns home and is rewarded for his exemplary performance during the war. He's viewed as a war hero.

He eagerly waits for Gale to send him a letter, but it never comes. Theseus doesn't know whether or not he should send the first letter.

He decides against it, patiently waiting until eventually, it becomes an afterthought. Too many things around him need his attention.

He becomes an aurora for the British ministry and works his way to the top, becoming head of the Auror's office.

He is soon set to be engaged to Leta Lestrange. A political marriage of convenience. News spreads quickly and soon, Gale is made aware. Through the newspaper.

The events of the second movie transpire as normal. (Leta Lestrange doesn't die).

*Now we're set during the beginning of the third movie*

Gale goes to England , he's sent over on a secret mission. He plans on doing his job and returning to the United states as soon as possible.

As it turns out, this super secret mission involves stopping Grindelwald. That means that Theseus is also involved.

He's there to help his younger brother Newt. Leta also joins in to help, alongside Jacob (Muggle), Bunty (Newt's assistant), Professor Eulalie (witchcraft teacher) and Yusuf kama(a powerful wizard, and Leta's half brother)

Theseus and Gale have a very rocky reunion. Theseus seemingly oblivious to Gale's hostile demeanor.

Over the course of their mission, Gale grows close to Newt, his interest in magical creatures makes Newt open up to him.

Theseus doesn't take this well, as he's always had a hard time bonding with his younger brother.

Tension between them grows and it starts to affect the team. Leta tries to difuse the situation, but it only seems to make things worse.

Something happens and Theseus and Gale trapped in a dangerous situation. They argue and Theseus snaps, demanding to know why Gale has been so cold towards him.

Gale tells him about the letters he sent him. How he waited for Theseus to respond. How he thought he cared about him.

What letters?

Theseus hadn't received any letters. He wanted to send his own letters to Gale, but he didn't, waiting for Gale's first letter, like he had promised.

They clear things up, and escape from danger. Gale apologises and Theseus does as well.

They hug.

Theseus tells him how happy he is to have his friend back. That breaks Gale's heart.

It's at that moment that he realises. All those years of resentment and pain had all been for nothing. Gale knew.

He has never stopped loving Theseus.

They reunite with the others and go on to complete the mission.

During their final confrontation with Grindelwald, they seem to be losing, all hope lost.

Gale decides to sacrifice himself to help the others.

Now, I see three endings for this fic.

Happy ending:

Gale survives Grindelwald's attack and Theseus, terrified at the thought of losing him, realises he also has feelings for Gale.

He breaks off his engagement with Leta, they remain good friends. (I love Leta, I physically cannot bring myself to make her evil or cruel)

He starts courting Gale.

They can't get married, because they're both men and it's the 1940s, but they spend the rest of their lives together, loving each other to the end of their days.

Bittersweet ending:

Gale survives Grindelwald's attack. Theseus ends up marrying Leta. Gale is at their wedding. They say goodbye with the promise of sending letters to eachother properly.

Gale returns to the United states. He never falls in love again, living the rest of his life in solitude.

The only comfort in his life being the letters Theseus sends him updating him on his own life.

His anniversaries, the birth of his children, Theseus makes him the Godfather to one of his kids, and so on.

Gale dies at 45 of a broken heart.

Theseus lives on.

Sad Ending:

Gale dies sacrificing himself.

He dies thinking about Theseus. He dies with the thought that at least now, Theseus gets to be happy and live his life growing old married to Leta.

He dies not knowing Theseus loved him back.

Soooo, what ending do you like more? Let me know!

💙🩷🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵💙

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Would you rather have unlimited bacon but no games, or games, UNLIMITED GAMES, but no games?

I can only assume this question has traveled through time from the early 2010s but, much like the ship of Theseus, lost parts of itself and been replaced with bits of other text likewise swimming backwards up the stream of time. Here it is now, a little bedraggled and difficult to parse, but no harder to love than the day it was first written. Come sit by the fire. It's okay now. You've made it after all this time, and we're so very happy that you're here.

[Update after my brain kicked in and I ran it through Google] Ah, this is a meme that I failed to recognize, huh......... I am eighty-seven years old and know not of what the Youth are up to these days..........