#fantastic beasts one shot

[strangerdangerwrites]

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

Summary: all your life you had been handling the dirty truth, and here he comes presenting you with his sweet lies. 

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

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

the art of lies masterlist

IN THE ABSENCE OF DAYLIGHT, Paris comes alive, after all, it is known as the City of Love.

Love in the form of freshly picked flowers from the florist.

The sweetest chocolate that tickled your taste buds.

Hand-written poems that rivaled world-renowned poets.

A love so sweet and tender that it caresses you gently in the night

But that certainly wasn’t the truth, it never was. Love wasn’t like that. 

Love was the thorns that hid beneath the roses.

Love was the bitter taste that lingered in your mouth after your first dark chocolate.

Love was the letter from lovers that had written goodbyes instead of ‘I’ll stay’.

Love was the harsh tug of your hair, the rough hands that hold your wrists, saying the words ‘You are so beautiful’ only when you are in the middle of the bed, spread willingly to the desires of man. 

Here, in Paris, is nothing but filled with nights of debauchery where all senses are thrown out the window. The sickening smell of expensive perfume and wine drowning you in the world of sins. And Paris was notable for it, here you are free! Or so they say.

Truth be told, you could never be free, always staying in hiding from the Non-Magiques. And here you were indebted to your handler, Madame Blanche, the owner of the renowned luxurious Maison close ‘Amour Délicat’. 

Like her name, the whites in her hair and the sharp look in her eyes tell her story. She was a former courtesan before and when the first war of the non-magiques happened there she learned something that would give birth to her only child, the Amour Délicat. When she shared the truth of what was happening in the world of the non-magiques to the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France (Ministry of Magical Affairs of France), Madame Blanche was greatly compensated, and there from the ground up, she built her history. 

Madame Blanche is far from the harsh and ruthless handlers in the non-magiques world of prostitution; she is commanding and ruthless. When she saw the reality of the world, it opened her mind to do whatever it takes to protect herself, and that is by being well-known that you create a sense of security in being seen. Here she opened her doors to those willing to work for her, at first, many were wary as to join and take employment, the look of disdain and gossip were indeed not for the faint of heart. 

And you who had nothing to lose, took the first bite and jumped straight into death potion. 

You, who only had your name and the clothes you wore on your back crawled straight inside Pandora’s box. 

Madame Blanche had saved you, she had given you a roof, food, clothes, and the protection that you needed. The life you formerly had was long gone; it was all in the past, thrown into the sea to be forgotten.

And here you learn to be a great witch. She first-hand, had taught you how to be a legilimens, as her first courtesan, she has taught you how to traverse the mind easily, to learn secrets, and how to use them to your advantage.

“The most powerful of witches and wizards can all be defeated by the secrets they hide.”

While the other courtesans were only taught surface-level legilimency, you were a natural. Not only can you do it nonverbally and wandlessly, but you can also communicate with others telepathically. Madame Blanche had opened you to all possibilities, and with that, she entrusted you with the highest position of being her right hand.

And your skill at legilimens always comes at night when you bed another clientele. And in the middle of pure ecstasy, they reveal the truth unwillingly. Here in the dimmed candlelight, you walked through the halls of their mind unlocking every door with a skeleton key of your abilities. No matter how many layers, or how many locks they keep, trust you could open it with ease. Secrets like marital affairs, financial debt, graft and corruption, illegitimate children, crimes, enemies, first love, their favorite color, the last thing they ate, their thoughts at that very moment… you can see and feel. An out-of-body experience, stripping you naked from yourself, from what you are and who you were. Here you forgot you were even breathing.

You didn’t realize you had been lying on the bed still for the last few minutes, the house elf, Bernadette, had been looking at you worriedly, and in her hand was your dressing robe, colors almost like the blinding light.

“Was the man harsh on you today, Miss?” She asked, placing the mulberry silk robe on your hand. You gave her a small smile and shook your head. The faint marks of rope were the clear sign of your lies, yet you were accustomed to it.

“It is alright. Run my bath for me?” With a wave of her hand, the bed took itself towards the laundry room and came in a small golden tub that fit your frame. Muttering a spell it filled the tub with bubbles and water, you stood before it before hitting it with a wave of your wand. The gramophone in the room suddenly erupted into soulful jazz music. With a scrub and a bar of soap ready at hand, Bernadette tried to assist you but you declined. Stepping foot into the warm bubbly bath.

“I would like a moment alone.” You waved your hand as soon as the words left your mouth, the house elf knew to leave you to your own devices. You were a grown woman, a woman who has been doing these for the last decade. And whenever you tried to look into your future, all you could see were the grand walls that painted your very eyes, the moving wallpaper depicting fields of various white flowers, you were stuck in Amour Délicat for the last moments of your life. This was the only thing you will ever know. You were indebted and grateful to Madame Blanche, and that led to your loyalty. She protects you and everyone in the Maison close. Outside these walls was uncertainty.

In the hot water, you submerged yourself trying to wake yourself up to the fact that this is your life. Yet when the warm glow of the city, fireworks erupted the skyline, muffled by the water you sat straight to peer at the noise. Without even looking, you knew families were in their own homes, enclosed with the scent of pastries and the warmth of their own fireplace. It was just a few minutes before New Year's Eve, and here you were working. Alone, staring into the distance, craving the sense of a warm home. 

Holding your knees close to your chest, you stared at the skyline as Muggles and Magical people alike celebrated the night with a bright display of fireworks. 

Unbeknown to you, Clarice, the receptionist had been preventing the members of the British Ministry of Magic from stepping foot towards the quarters an hour before the new year would start.

“You cannot go inside; this is a private and respectable property,” Clarice spoke, her accent rushing the words as panic littered her veins. Her arm at ready with her own wand. The lounge was filled with thick air as the British aurors pointed their wand at the girl, not understanding a word she shouted. 

Click-clack! Click-clack!

With every slow step, Madame Blanche descended the stairs. 

“And what do you English want? Here to close Amour Délicat? You don’t have the right.” Madame Blanche boasts, looking at the men below with her chin pointed upwards. Looking at them one by one, the Madame could not read their minds, the British aurors have been trained in occlumency. Remaining calm, she stood on the balcony, overlooking the whole crowd below.

“We were looking for one of your workers. I believe they have the answers to the disappearance of one of the assistant delegates of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.” Torquil Travers claimed, holding a photograph of a man in his middle 30s-40s. 

Summoning the paper in the grasp of the Madame, she looked at the photograph intently, racking up all the lists of their clients. Without even showing hints of recognition, Madame had thrown the paper back into the hands of the aurors.

“I believe you must have a permit before we further your inquiries. If not, then leave.” Turning around, she waved a hand to open the large doors.

“We have it, signed and approved by your own Minister.” Stopping in her tracks, the auror walked up to the steps and held it right in front of the Madame’s face. Now a hint of annoyance was painted on her pointed brows.

“Come to my office, only I can accommodate two of you. Choose wisely.” Madame Blanche said in a cold tone, not even bothering to wait for aurors as she walked straight to the lift.

“Scamander! Come with me.” Travers could upon the young man, the older auror respected the young man’s abilities and thinking, after all, he was a respectable war hero.  

Stepping into the lift, the walls were decorated with moving painted white flowers, the madame touched the button to the highest floor, and the black lining of the lift showed its elegance. As the Aurors stood behind her, eyes darted across each other in nervousness. The Brits showed no sign of anxiety, even if that was far from the truth, the Madame held an air of regalness suffocating them with the scent of floral perfume. As soon as the doors of the lift parted for her, the room was quite the luxury and beauty with its eclectic interior, engulfed with knick-knacks from travels, moving statues, paintings from famous muggles, and the large glass pane showing the night sky. 

In the middle of the room was a velvet green chair, a large glass table, and a lone flower sitting in the golden vase.

“Sit.” She pointed toward the chair in front of her, while she remained standing encircling the room looking at the Englishman that disturbed her home. 

“Our clients value discreteness, we simply could not disclose it easily… yet since you presented me with a hand-written note by our minister I must oblige to your request. Then talk, what is it that you want?”

“We are looking for Charles Moore. He has been in charge of communications with the French Ministry as a part of assistant delegate for our Ministry, he asked to be assigned here after the Muggle World War. The day he was posted to return, he didn’t. And we believe that in his letters to his sister, he claimed to be…”

Madame Blanche raised her eyebrow at Torquil Travers waiting for him to spit it out.

“In love.” Theseus replied. “He claims that he has found the love of life here in Paris and was planning to buy off her indenture. Or so we believe.” 

Madame Blanche scoffed.

“There are many dames in Paris, and he chose to settle with a courtesan?” Madame Blanche laughed, making Travers find it humorous as well. In the keen eyes of Madame Blanche, he saw Theseus's brows turn into a frown before shifting back to biting his cheeks.

“Are you certain that it was in Amour Délicat?”

Theseus answered with a nod. 

There were three letters in total from Charles Moore to his sister. And for the past few days, Theseus had been assigned to look for the exact description of the building. He alone took the time of the day, looking at details of every establishment and brothel in Paris, from the world of the muggles to hidden alcoves of the French Wizarding World. After 2 days, he had seen the exact description of the magnificent-looking walls lined with silver and the sweet nauseating scent of flowers, that’s when he knew this was it.

First Letter:

Dearest Ange,

I believe I have found the love of my life! No one is ever as beautiful as her. No amount of theatrics on the show could ever take my eyes off of her. She sat there like a flower, waiting for me.

As soon as the play was over, I tried to approach her. Tell her to take my hand and run away with me. Oh, Ange! I never felt something like this. This must be what love is. Yet, my heart turned to pieces when I saw her taking the arm of another man, walking together side-by-side as they left the theater. I trailed behind them, and saw the most luxurious of buildings, sparkled with silver linings and flowers decorating its walls. Then I stopped and stared, and the man left her there. That’s when I realized what it was… I know this might sound ridiculous, but she is working in the red-light district and with that, no amount of apprehension could hinder me. I know you would flip the whole house upside down, but Ange this is love. I am certain of it. No amount of your denial could keep me away from this.

                                                                                                             From your darling brother, Charlie.

Second Letter: 

Dear Angelique, 

With the amount of your reply, I take that your silence was your approval. 

Today, I took liquid courage to go ahead and talk to her. But the only way was that I had to pay a fortune. I walked to the receptionist with high hopes, and with her assistance, she immediately gave me a room. With flowers in hand, I waited for her only to get my hopes up when another girl walked into the room. I was filled with disappointment. I asked the lady of the night for the description of my love, and she claimed that she was part of the ‘bouquet de blanc’. First-time patrons' pocket money is not enough to gain an audience. And me being an assistant could only lead me to certain places, yet I will persevere. 

 Give me a few more days and I’ll be able to, no matter the cost.

                                                                                                             From your brother, Charles.

Last Letter:

To my Darling Sister,

I hope this letter finds you well, I could not disclose to the ministry the cost of my expenses… but I found another way. Worry no more. Today, I will finally be able to talk to her.

The day that I return home is when she is with me.

                                                                                                             From your loving brother.

Placing the letters right in front of the Madame of the house, with a lifted finger her smile faded into a scowl. Someone from the inside was spreading information about her courtesans; Bouquet de Blanc was valued in secrecy. This was a catalog of their courtesans that had regular high-paying patrons, and this was not open for viewing so easily. Patrons that were deemed valuable to her and her Maison close were accommodated, the pure-blooded noble families, higher ranking officials, royalty even. And someone from the lower ranks of her courtesans had their tongue quite willingly.

Waving her wand, she summoned a large logbook. There inside was information such as names, professions, ages, nationalities, and ranks of their patrons, of course, the courtesan they were assigned to. Whispering the name Charles Moore, it skimmed through the pages with ease, and there in bold letters was the name of the auror the Brits were looking for. Travers tried to peer at the other listed names, his curiosity taking the best of him.

“Curiosity is the lust of the mind, Mr. Travers. Why don’t you sit still, and I’ll call upon her.”

Closing the book harshly, Madame called upon Bernadette. Apparating next to her mistress, Madame Blanche whispered to call the girl. Nodding the house elf disappeared within a blink of an eye. Behind them, the elevator dinged, while the Madame tapped on the book with carefully manicured nails. 

“It is New Year’s Eve; would you like to avail of our services? It can easily be arranged. I know it’s a long journey and your work for your ministry is greatly appreciated, it wouldn’t hurt to take the night off— to indulge yourself in your sensual desires.” 

The older man shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Suddenly they were interrupted when the elevator doors dinged, signaling the arrival of the courtesan. Turning around a slender figure stepped foot in the room, She wore a long flowing green nightgown.

“Come in here and greet the Brits, Maeve. They would like to talk to you about Charles Moore.” Madame Blanche pointed to the aurors in front of her, the back of the courtesan’s neck grew in a cold sweat.

“I–I do not understand Madame Blanche. I didn’t do anything wrong! The man asked– and I swore that was the last of it, I told him what he wanted to hear.” The girl's pleading cries fell on deaf ears as the aurors could not understand what she was crying about. Theseus' eyes darted between Madame Blanche and the girl’s tear-stricken face. While Torquil Travers stood to show his authority, ready to apprehend the girl.

Within just a few seconds, Madame Blanche had already seen the inner linings of the girl’s mind. The fear registered in her thoughts while she traversed doors upon doors to look for the memories of the missing delegate, and right there she found what she was seeking.

In just a few quick strides, Madame Blanche towered over the girl with a look of disdain painted on her red lips. The old mistress, jaw held tightly as she wiped the tears of the girl. Only to hold the young girl’s face tightly, her long nails pierced through the delicate skin while she stared straight down into the young woman’s eyes with an intense look, unblinking. 

“You may leave, pack your bags, and look for work elsewhere. I do not take it kindly to those willing to open their mouths willingly to my secrets. Bernadette, escort her out of here. I have found what I’m looking for.” 

The girl refused as the house elf dragged the wailing girl back to the elevator, screams of ‘no’ echoed through the walls. 

Travers, who was far too confused, shouted for the house elf to stop as the girl was a key witness. Even pointed his wand threateningly at the old mistress, ready to cast a stunning spell within the tips of his lips. The madame disarms him with a flick of her wand, his wand went flying right off his grasp and cluttered on the hardwood floor. Madame shook her head no when the auror Travers tried to pick it up. 

“You’re a legilimens.” Theseus muttered; Madame Blanche turned around to face the man giving them a tight-lipped smile and nodded. 

“Would you like to view the girl’s memory and be done with it? I need to run my business after all.” Offering to perform legilimency to project the memories to the aurors, they declined. They knew not to, after all, they too have secrets that protect their ministry. 

“We decline. We, Aurors value our minds and do not open them so willingly.” Travers stated, still apprehensive of Madame Blanche. “But the girl needs to be questioned, we have to have her testimonials as to Moore’s disappearance.”

“Then you must trust my word because I too have my secrets to keep. That girl didn’t kill or cause his disappearance. He came in here one night, to question about the catalog of my courtesans and that was it–”

Cutting off the handler of the brothel, Theseus insisted; “Charles Moore stated in his letters about a ‘bouquet de blanc’. I hope that might ring a bell, after browsing through your catalog in the lobby earlier. I couldn’t find traces of this list, is this a secret that you are hiding from the ministry?” 

Madame Blanche’s eyes narrowed at the young auror; her piercing ice-blue eyes almost looked like they could kill.

“No, of course not. My bouquet de blanc is the Amour Délicat trade secrets. I could not easily say it out loud for fear of our competitors copying what I built from the ground up. If you would like to browse that catalog, then let me— although I must say, we do not easily offer our services freely.” Walking towards a dark oak cabinet grabbing a large book with golden linings. Placing right back at the table, Madame Blanche flipped through the pages with images of different courtesans, and right on its last page was a picture of you. 

“I believe she is the one he is asking for.” She pointed with a manicured finger, right before your name was a title given to you. 

Queen of the Night; Night-blooming Cereus

You were smiling, looking right at the onlooker like it was destined. While others bashfully hid their eyes, sultry looking to get admirers, you didn’t need to do that. You had your charm, something that allures the onlookers to choose you. Madame Blanche tried to flip the page to show them another photograph of you leaving nothing to the imagination to the spectator, but Theseus stopped her.

“I think that is enough, could you summon her to talk to us.” Theseus declared with a cough, standing up to close the book and stepping right in front of Travers' line of sight. “Please.”

Madame Blanche smiled, this time it was far different. “I believe your permit only limited you to talk to one of the key witnesses… And since Mr. Moore was not a benefactor of bouquet de blanc, I know because I am the only bookkeeper of that catalog… you must pay a hefty price.”

Now, the Aurors were stuck in the beginning, only pieces of blocked paths. If Charles Moore was not on the list of high-ranking patrons, then they could only comply with the demands of the authority and right now it wasn’t them who was holding the winning cards. When Travers' authority gets threatened, he scoffs, ready to drag Theseus out of the old woman. Madame Blanche truly was a businesswoman, she played them a fool. Whether they get out of the establishment empty-handed, or with empty wallets was their choice. They could simply not arrest the old woman, this was out of their jurisdiction, they were out of their element and far from their own country, and they simply couldn’t do whatever they wanted. 

“Either you pay full price, or you will tell me why such a simple assistant is being hunted down by the best Aurors of the British Ministry. Pick your price.” She sat arms folded right in front of her face, holding her chin while she grinned at the standing men.

Within a minute of no one budging, Travers' patience wavered. With a deep sigh, he faltered. With one last glance at Theseus, he held his head low. 

“Charles Moore stole 4,000 galleons. We believe that he tried to buy her indenture and convince her to come to London with him.” Travers confessed. That was the half-truth, Theseus’ senior took out the part that it was from the subsidy for international affairs. And the way he stole it was undetected like he had some insiders to help him, they were now battling an unseen threat. They only noticed it was missing after 3 months, when Theseus looked at the accounts and noticed that something was awry.

Madame Blanche started laughing, “He believes he can buy off her indenture for 4,000 galleons. Oh, what a joke! That’ll only cost him half an hour at most”

When Madame Blanche stopped laughing, she pointed back to the lift doors. “Head to the floor below. I’ll tell her I sent you.” The aurors nodded and headed to leave only to be held when the Madame halted them to stop.

“You endanger my investment; I’d rather you stay here than be near one of my priceless courtesans.” She stated, pointing at the older auror. Theseus can see his senior jaw tightened, and the veins on his neck grew red in anger. Not only was the older auror disarmed, but he was also being held under surveillance in fear that he might endanger you, now his patience and authority wavered on thin ice, and his eyes clouded with anger.

“I’ll talk to her and I’ll find what we need.” Theseus whispered as soon as he stepped foot in the lift. The doors closed slowly; he saw Madame Blanche’s eyes watching the other auror like a hawk. 

When the doors for the lift opened, what greeted him was a vast hall painted like the night sky. With a slight shift of his eyes, he can see the tiny freckles of stars that decorated a lone white door. Unlike the outside of the establishment, this seemed out of place with the flower motifs of Amour Délicat. Here he can feel the cold breeze of the winter night. Knocking on the white door, he called out to the name he had seen written on the catalog. 

You who had been preoccupied with your thoughts; wishing to know the feeling of stepping out of your body, floating, freely, like the ghosts that linger down the dark alleys. Right outside the window, the streets erupted in cheers as they all greeted each other another happy new year. Drinking down the champagne that was given to you by a patron, noting a taste of toast and coffee and a subtle spice drowning out all your other senses. When the fireworks ended, you lay there looking at the skylight as the only glow of the light left was the moonlight.

A subtle knock started you as you let Bernadette waltz her way in. Her company and the cup of tea are greatly appreciated when your water has now gone cold. But instead of the house elf, what replaced her was someone far taller than her; there he stood only the silhouette of his slender frame seen. 

Theseus didn’t expect what he saw, a lone woman basking in the golden tub, a melancholy look written in her eyes.

Sad. You looked sad. 

The only sound that could be heard was the faint hum of the gramophone across the room and the muffled cheers that erupted right behind the glass windows. With the faint sparkle of light, you saw a slight frown on his face. Realizing your predicament, you went back to wearing the mask when you were at work.

“Would you like me to keep you company?” You asked, turning around delicately, careful not to show another ounce of skin. Tilting your head to one side and smiling at him, the same one he has seen in the photograph earlier.

When Theseus realized what you were implying, he held his hand and shook his head, showing you a metal badge indicating the words ‘auror’. You had a fair share of French aurors that came to you for a night, often playing the role of the captive and captor. What a lack of imagination, if this is the role he wants to play then so be it.

“You would like to play that role? I, the convict, and you the detainer. Would you like that darling?” You asked, ready to approach him when he realized what was happening, he turned around not to face your naked form. The tips of his ears went red in embarrassment. 

“I didn’t come here for your service; I was sent here by Madame Blanche to question you. My name is Theseus Scamander, I was sent by the British Ministry of Magic.” He announced. 

Ahh… A British Auror. You hummed and stood to grab the white robe and placed it on your body. Hearing the sound of faint footsteps, Theseus waited until you gave him a signal. 

“I see… talk I don’t have all night to entertain you.” This time you put your weight and one foot, crossing your arms across your chest. Your hand laid steady on your wand.

Turning around, you pointed toward the chair that sat across from you, and he agreed to your request. As soon as he did, you went and grabbed the champagne you had been drinking earlier and procured another glass to pour him one. Placing it next to him, you stood in front of him and drank yours, waiting as he did too. Theseus eyed it suspiciously, but you continued to drink it on your own accord.

“A gift… something lighter than the fire whiskey.” You replied as you down the glass in one gulp. He nodded and carefully took a sip of his. You sat in front of him and grabbed the bottle to pour more down into your glass.

When he exhaled in satisfaction, you knew it tasted amazing. Theseus knew what you were doing, trying to lower his guard, not sitting to show you were in control, and intoxicating him to vulnerability. Yet, he remained calm, showing no signs of threat to you. If Madame Blanche was a legilimens, there was a high chance you were too, all he needed to do was throw you off his scent.

And just like he had predicted, right at the moment you tried to pry his mind. A knot on your brow formed when you stared intently at him.

‘You looked sad.’ Those were the thoughts that circled his mind, like a mantra. You can feel it. Feel him. It made you nauseous, the bile in your throat rose as his thoughts engraved into yours. No one had looked at you and thought you were sad; it was always beautiful. Sadness and you were never to be put in a sentence, and when his thoughts did it terrified you. 

To be seen broken makes you fear. To be seen feeling sadness made the feeling of being stripped naked for the whole world to see. All your life, you had built these walls that made you stand on your own two feet. The ache in your mind becomes unbearable, you weren’t beautiful… underneath all the expensive clothes, and pearls that glittered your skin— you are crooked, battered with bruises, wrecked by time, your skin filthy with sin, you were a tragedy… a rotten work.

“Stop.” With gritted teeth, you fail to look at his eyes and his mind. A slip of the tongue made you realize what you had said out loud, that was all Theseus needed to know that you too are a legilimens. “State your purposes.”

Right in the pockets of his coat was the photograph of Charles Moore, he carefully placed it on the table in front of him waiting for you to pick it up.

“Do you recognize him?” He placed the picture within your line of sight. Pausing he tried to scope for your reaction. “It’s Charles Moore, an assistant delegate of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.”

“He has been missing for months and the last contact we had from him was a letter to his sister, trying to have an audience with you.” 

Your eyes examined Moore’s photograph. And minutes passed your silence almost became too heavy to Theseus's dislike, but he needed to thread your waters carefully, you were already agitated for unknown reasons.

“I believe I do not know who this person is.” You smiled and stared at Theseus, the first time you met his eyes after your outburst earlier.

He pointed out another slip of your strong facade right at its mark. “Yet you do not deny that you do recognize him.” 

“Maybe I do… Maybe I don’t. It is possible he is one of my long lists of admirers, doesn’t erase the fact that I do not know him at all.” 

“I highly doubt that. You’re a legilimens, and I am not; that is true. I need to know if you have met with him once, and if you are proven to be telling the truth then I would leave this room. But I can tell you’re lying. Skilled legilimens can procure memories into another person, and all I needed was the time and date, any people that were trailing him. Your truth is all I need.” He proposes.

“Or would you rather we do this the hard way? The choice is yours.” He leaned forward as his head rested on his knuckles.

“You give me the illusion of free choice when all you want is to pry my mind. Is there something you are not saying, Mister Scamander? Tell me the truth, what is in it for you? What would you get to look into the inner workings of my mind? You expect me to believe that you honestly want nothing else? Just my memory? I hardly doubt that.” Challenging his proposition, you leaned forward as your palms hit the glass table harshly with a loud slap, not before rebutting his claims. “Surely it could not be just you are looking for a testament, you wouldn’t work hard on that, all you needed is a vial of the strongest veritaserum and it would be done. Then why are you pushing hard to look into my mind?”

“You play a cruel game of trust.” He sighed, making you scoff. “Mr. Moore had said in his letters about how he will get the currency to meet you, his means to getting it is unsaid. And that was a clear sign that he needed someone to work with him to get that from a subsidiary of international affairs, you are simply a madman to be able to work alone. And all I need is— you. All I need is you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I need you to work with me. You knew better than just mere rumors, you knew everyone and could see their thoughts.”

Working with the British Ministry, consider it treason. Yet, you never were loyal to this land. Your loyalty lies elsewhere, it stays to those who have given you a sense of protection. Your loyalty is within Madame Blanche’s hands. Hands that remained choking you to stay. 

Still, you let Mr. Scamander entertain you with his words.

“It would have to take you a valuable price, Mr. Scamander. I am an expensive woman, yet, I am considerate. Give me leverage and I will give you what you want.” That’s when he stopped and stared at the photo, avoiding any eye contact. “What could you possibly offer Mr. Scamander, tell me.”

You grinned as you took a sip at the champagne, just like a war, both of you had been disarming and hurting each other for the kill. Breaking down every barrier with a small slip-up of each other, both of you were professionals at your trades. He is an Auror, he knows how to spot lies and negotiate, give you the feeling of support to make you break down your armor. Meanwhile, you pride yourself on being a great liar, you know what to say to appear compliant, and you know how to adapt and play the games to your tide. Every word and sentence uttered until one of you would lose the battle of wits, one slip and the fallen would crash and burn.

Leaning back you gave him a smile, your wand procuring a cigarette that lay on the table. Placing it gently on your lips, the tip of your wand lit up a flame. With a deep inhale, you knew you were already winning the battle. You didn’t need to look into his mind, to know that he was fighting a losing war. His occlumency was far useless when the knot on his forehead and the jaunt of his chin told you he was conflicted.

“I have been offered riches that could fill De Nile, clothes that were woven from the rarest of silks, jewels that shone brighter than the sun, houses that housed thousands of rooms, paintings of the most beautiful landscapes, songs and sonnets about my beauty, the most exotics of creatures that lay hidden within the government’s grasp… Pray tell, what could a simple auror like you have that can overthrow all those proposals?”

He was silent, expression never changing. And no matter how hard you try to pry to look into his mind, it remains still like he is right in front of you. 

“Safety.” Your smile faltered. “I offer you safety.” 

You blinked and blinked. Trying hard not to show that your jaw was slack in silence; the timeliness of the gramophone hitting its ending notes was fitting. His words lay heavy on your mind.

Amour Délicat had always offered you protection, but never safety. Safety was a word often associated with emotional aspects that were never visible in your job, safety offered you the sense of never needing to keep your secrets in this line of work or needing not to utter a word that would be your downfall in these walls. Protection kept you free and sheltered from physical aspects and threats, like the two guards that trailed you whenever you needed to do outside work, or the walls that shielded you from the rain. Safety is a foreign word, way too foreign that it burns you with curiosity. A thrill you never experience on a silver platter. It gives you hope— and hope gives you greed. A greet that surpasses all material things known to man. You want to take it all, consume your being until all is left is the safety that you wanted, the safety of being able to walk free, to run away, the security of not needing to know that this is the place where you would meet your demise. 

You knew how Madame Blanche worked, she took pride in knowing secrets and that is her leverage. And right now Madama Blanche would be none the wiser when you will take his deal. And there is one thing in the world that the Madame hated, and it is to not know anything at all. 

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” 

You held your hand to him and stood up, apprehensive he stood up as well taking your hand in his. Looking up into his eyes, you called upon the house elf. Bernadette immediately appeared right beside you.

“Don’t promise me empty words.”

“I won’t.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we made an unbreakable vow.”

Your hold on his palm tightens, only to travel into his wrist. Without breaking eye contact you give him a minute to decide what his choice would be. Does he trust you enough to do it at the expense of his life, or would he rather fear being the one to dictate his actions?

His palm pressed tightly into your wrists, not like the rough hands that occupied your wrists hours ago, his hold was gentle, not imposing. Nodding at Bernadette, a thin tongue of flame issued at the tips of the house elf's fingertips and wound its way around both your and Theseus’ hands. It felt like a burning wire, keeping your skin aflame.

“Will you, Theseus Scamander, promise to provide my safety, as he and I work together?”

“I will.”

“Will you, abide by our oath, to only tell the truth to me?”

“I will.”

a/n: dialogue that is formatted like this “dialogue” is in French. i tried hard to make it one-shot i really did, buT I SIMPLY CANT SO HERE I GIVE YOU WORLD BUILDING AND MORE LORE UPON LORE ON THIS FIC.

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

[valkyriepirate]

Newt Scamander x Reader One Shot- Lean On Me

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night and notice Newt's absence. You go searching for him in his suitcase to find him passed out over his papers and try to bring him back to bed.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff :)

Word count: 1.3k words

A/N: I wrote this simply to satisfy my Newt craving. He is an adorable little cinnamon roll that must be protected at all costs.

#4- Lean On Me

You pried open your eyes and squinted in the darkness. The other side of the bed was vacant; you knew it without rolling over. Newt’s presence had become so familiar to you that when he wasn’t there, it was as if part of your heart had gone missing.  

You sat up, rubbing your face groggily. There was a light on somewhere in the house. You slid your feet into your slippers and padded toward the source, hugging your thin nightgown to your body. It had begun to get chilly, especially at night, and oftentimes Newt found you cuddled up in bed, shrouded by a multitude of blankets.  

The suitcase was propped open on a table in the foyer. A dim light glowed from within.  

Yawning, you stepped over the rim and descended into its depths. The creatures weren’t exactly aware of the passage of day and night in the suitcase, but most had seemed to settle once the sun had set in the outside world. A few of the nocturnal ones hooted and hummed as you entered.

“Newt?” you called sleepily, lighting a candle from the cabinet. “Are you awake?”

You turned a corner to his study, a small nook by the stairs crammed with bookshelves and creature care appliances. There he was, sleeping sprawled over his desk, stray papers from his latest endeavor strewn about, hair ruffled and mouth open slightly. You smiled at the sight of your husband. You’d given up urging him to go to bed months ago, realizing that he all too often tried to heed your words but became so swept up in his work that he lost track of time.  

You came up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders. “My love,” you kissed the top of his head. “Won’t you come up to bed?”

He started awake, blinking sleep from his eyes. “(Y-Y/N)?” He had a line imprint on his cheek where he’d fallen asleep on the table. He looked at his papers in confusion and began gathering them together. “What time is it?”

You ran your hand down the length of his arm and slipped your fingers into his ink-stained ones, preventing him from touching his work. “Time to go to bed,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.  

He stopped and leaned into your touch as you ran your thumb over his knuckles. He trapped your fingers, brought them to his lips, and nodded.  

You helped him to his feet and sneaked a hand around his torso as you led him up the stairs. Newt, of course, was wholly capable of climbing the stairs by himself, but you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to close the physical distance between you two.  

Newt didn’t seem to mind. You were the bolder one when it came to affection, but he always caught your touches and held you closer as if he could make them last forever. Often he would absentmindedly caress your arm or twirl a curl of your hair between his fingers. It was in the little things that you knew Newt showed the most care; sometimes a single touch from him said more than a thousand words.  

You tugged him into the bedroom you shared and released your hold as you went to fold an extra quilt over the bed. Your tendency to hog the blankets on cooler nights left Newt searching for warmth, you knew, though it didn’t escape your thoughts that his lack of cover usually led him to snuggle closer to you. Perhaps that was part of your subconscious plan.  

He stood on the other side of the bed, framed in candlelight. The fire shone around his hair just so, making it appear that he was crowned in a rubicund halo. He was unraveling his tie, his sluggish movements betraying how sleep-deprived he truly was.  

You flattened the quilt and came to stand by him. “Allow me,” you said, taking the tie from his hands. Deftly, you undid the knot. You had made Newt’s tie for him countless times each day before he headed off to work to the point that you could do it with your eyes closed. You tugged it from his neck and tossed it to the dresser.  

When you looked back up, Newt’s eyes were locked on you. When you first met, you found his inability to look you in the eye odd and yet a little endearing. As you two grew closer, he would hold your gaze for greater lengths of time, as if he had gotten lost in your eyes and was physically incapable of tearing himself away. Even now that you were married there was something vulnerable about it. It was like you were each seeing a hidden part of each other’s soul, like you were baring your hearts before each other and were unafraid of what it could expose.  

Not breaking his gaze, you allowed your hands to trail down his chest, grasping the buttons at his vest. His heart was racing underneath your palms. Yours skipped a beat. You were melting under that look. Gently, you unattached each of the buttons and slid the vest off his shoulders, leaving him in an undershirt that was already popped open at the collar. On the undershirt you let yourself undo only the first three buttons; you knew if you went any farther your hands might never stop exploring every inch of his skin.

You pressed on his shoulders and eased him to sit on the bed. He reached up to hold your hand, but you knelt to untie his shoelaces instead. You set his shoes aside and he drew you back to your feet, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist.  

“I don’t deserve you,” Newt mumbled, eyes flitting away and settling on your mouth.

You cupped his face in one hand and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair with the other. “The world doesn’t deserve you, my love.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand. “But you deserve the world.”

Your heart seemed to liquefy in your chest, sending warmth trickling all over your body. You leaned forward to kiss his brow. When you pulled back, his eyes- half-lidded and aglow with the candlelight- were once again fixed on your lips. He pulled you closer. Softly, as if it demanded the utmost care in the world, he tilted his head up and pressed his lips to yours.  

He kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were his, as if you would disappear from his arms at any moment. It was delicate and utterly sweet and ended far too soon.  

“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. His voice was shaky, and he was looking at you like you were a dream.

In reply, you kissed him again. You lowered yourself to sit on his lap and he scooted back, tugging you with him, your hips curved into his body. Your hands stroked his neck and once more found their way down his arms. He shivered under your touch. You smiled against his lips and moved the kiss deeper.  

Newt leaned back and pulled you both onto the bed. You fell against his chest and dipped into the crook of his arm. Running the back of your fingers over his cheek, you whispered, “I love you too.”

Sleep was quickly claiming him, and you could feel its steady hold on you too. You kissed him once more, then rolled over and blew out the candle. You snuggled underneath the blankets, feeling Newt’s warm arm slip around your waist, his ankles entwining with yours.  

You were entering a world of blissful dreams when you felt his soft lips on the crook of your shoulder. You cuddled closer to him, your back up against his chest, and smiled into the night.  

“Good night, my love,” you said.  

“Good night, my darling,” he said as he drifted off to sleep once again.

Masterlist

#newt scamander x reader fluff #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander one shot #newt scamander #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts #reader insert #harry potter x reader #harry potter #fbawtft

[rowniebow]

mercy | newt scamander x male reader

Summary: You and Newt have been put in a sticky situation. Newt has been the hot commodity lately, but you were all too ready to bargain. 

Warnings: Angst

Reader: Male, muggle

Parining(s): Newt Scamander x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

masterlist

Your eyes focused on the cold cement ground you sat upon. Your knees were pulled to your chest. Your head was pounding from all the stress and commotion. You couldn’t help but wonder where you would be as of right now if you had denied the strange British man and stayed working at your nine-to-five factory job. Would you still reside in your pathetic, run down apartment across from Gerda who shared her butter and you shared your eggs with? Would Jerry still be belittling you about how lazy you are at your job? Yes. Most likely Jerry would still be an asshole.

But, most of all, would Newt be in this situation if it weren’t for you? You can’t help but think he would be sitting at home taking care of his creatures if it weren’t for you agreeing to join him. That, at least, is what you said to convince yourself you were okay with what was all happening. Convincing yourself you were at fault for the bad things so your “solution” to the issue - this decision you were making for the both of them - wouldn’t be as painful.

What were you to do, though? When someone shares their most vulnerable feelings with you, and you share your own, are you really supposed to just watch them up and leave without you when their hand is extended as Newt’s was? When they’re offering you an out of your miserable life, and instead an invitation to what you assumed would be a nice quiet life with someone you loved and doing things you loved with them? Are you supposed to say no to joining the person you have grown to care the most about? 

You were yanked out of your thoughts as the loud metal doors were peeled open by two large, muscular men clad in armor and wands out ready to strike if you made even one off move. You couldn’t help but wonder if all that was truly necessary for you: a small man with no capacity to fight back. Good lord, you couldn’t even get rid of spiders. All you could do was ignore them and wish them on their merry way. 

You stood, the shackles hung off of your wrists and ankles. The rusted chain clattered against the cement floors, scratching against your already pounding head. You trudged with the two large men trailing close behind you. They poked at your back every once in a while when you were dragging from exhaustion. 

You three arrived at the large wooden double doors. They creaked as the men opened it to reveal you to the man that hasn’t left your mind in years. 

You took in every aspect of Newt with a gasp. His arms were limp and pale from all the hours they had been hung up against the wall. He was on his knees, but his ankles, bloody and bruised, sat chained to the wall just as his wrists were. Blood drained out of them, you were sure they were tingling with discomfort. He didn’t look up, leaving you to look at his knotted, messy hair. Strands flew everywhere, it didn’t even have its usual shape and part. His dozens of layers of clothes had been removed. He stood limply in his tousled white button down and brown straight legged pants. Both clothing items were ripped at the seams and ruffled beyond the familiarity of Newt’s well-dressed and ironed appearance. 

“Oh, Newtie,” You groaned at the sight of him. Rage filled your veins. You suddenly began to rethink your bargain, wondering if these awful people who had already done this to him would keep their part and let him go after all this. 

Newt looked up with wide eyes at the sound of your voice echoing off of the brick walls. His eyes were swollen and red. His cheeks were patterned in purple and red. Hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He struggled at the chains, trying to stand up and move towards you but, of course, he was to no avail. “Y/N,” he called out hoarsely, tears threatening his eyes. You ran towards him, the guards obviously wanting to stop you but they let it happen knowing what was to come. 

“Newt, goodness, my sweet,” You cooed, lightly rubbing your hand over his wounded cheeks as you examined him. He winced slightly as you grazed the open skin but overall he refused to look away from you, shocked to see you in front of him. “Are you okay? Lord- obviously you’re not. It’s okay, alright? I-It’s gonna be over soon, okay?” You hushed your tone, wanting to save all your words for him and only him. 

His bloodied wrists caught your eye, “Can we- Can we please get this bullshit off of him? God,” You hollered out into the echoed room. The chains released themselves, magically, of course, and Newt fell into your arms. He struggled to snake his own limp limbs around your waist. You felt his shaking body and breath and nearly broke down. 

You continued to hold him close, a hand keeping his head in the crook of your neck and another keeping him upright in your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you continuously whispered into his hair that was still soft as ever despite it all. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 

“Now,” A voice boomed from behind you. “Would you like to break the news to him, dearest? Or, shall I?” 

You ignored the threatening voice - the voice from the man who’s at fault for the crimes committed against the two. You only continued whispering your hushed apologies. You reassured Newt, in between quiet sniffs, that he was going to be okay and that it would all be over soon. That he wouldn’t have to worry anymore and he could continue to forget this. 

Newt, listening to your every word and absorbing it (grateful that he gets to hear it again at all), peaked over your shoulder at the presence who had walked in. Neither of the two had seen the man’s face. He stayed hidden under his black, hooded cloak. A mask sat over his face, keeping anyone from seeing him. 

Newt watched the man, blurred from his tears, take several steps in the room. After hours and hours of the torturing done to him by this man, he couldn’t even find the strength in him to do much more than look and groan. He happily let you rock yourselves back and forth as you chanted comforting phrases into his ear for only him to hear, and ran your fingers through his hair, and left your warm heavy hand in the middle of his back and rubbed it in small circles. 

“I suppose I’ll take that as a plea for me to tell him.” The voice boomed out once more. 

Your eyes couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You quietly sobbed, muttering, “Please, don’t be mad. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 

“The little muggle has offered himself in exchange for your peace. For your freedom.” You could hear a smile in the man’s voice as he spoke of your bargain. You could also very clearly hear a sharp gasp from Newt, as he began to moan in disagreement. “Yes, we haven’t decided what to do with him, yet, but-! I am a generous man, myself, so I have decided to make the deal with him.” 

Newt struggled but managed to push himself away from your loving hold. “No, I-I don’t agree with this.” He managed to squeak out. His ragged voice from all the screaming you had heard him do from down the corridor shook and let a cold shake travel through your spine. 

“Yes, well,” The man with the booming voice behind you turned and made his way out of the door. “I thought I’d be kind and let you say goodbye. We’ll be back for you soon enough.” His uncaring voice sent rage through Newt. His fist clenched but he was too weak to do much of anything. 

The door slammed shut leaving you two alone with one another. “No,” Newt began but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“Love, I can’t let them hurt you anymore than they already have. Or the creatures. You get to leave with them, I made sure of that.”

“N-No, but,” He gulped, doing his best to soothe his scratchy throat. “I-I don’t get to leave with you,”

“That’s okay-,”

“No! It’s n-not okay.” His eyelids fluttered and his mouth twitched at the ends.

“Yes, it is,” You moved your hands to hold his cheeks. His head struggled to stay up with the weight of gods pushing him down. “You’re gonna be okay and the creatures are going to be okay and that’s what matters.”

“No! I-I-I won’t be okay!” He let out a pained sob. The waterfalls escaped his green eyes.

“You will. And you’ll live a nice quiet life like you said you would.” The smile that graced your lips was filled with nothing but pain and Newt saw right through that.

He stayed silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be okay without you. I don’t want to live a ‘nice quiet life’ without you. That-That is just no life at all, one without you.” 

Salty drops of water streamed down your face at his words. What could you even say to that? You’ve been telling yourself you are doing this for him but it’s not as if you would be anything less than angry if he were doing the same for you. 

“There-There must be a-another way.” Newt shook his head, refusing to believe this was the reality he was going to have to accept. He kept his eyes trained on you the whole time as he took in every detail, anxious this was going to be the last time he saw your face. He absorbed your skin and where it wrinkled. He memorized every divet in your imperfect perfect complexion. How your eyes were swollen and red from rubbing them all day. The way the light reflected off of your mesmerizing eyes. How insanely beautiful you looked in every way all of the time. He couldn’t believe he scored someone as gorgeous as you, inside and out. Fully and completely beautiful. 

“Newt,” You whispered his name, afraid if you said it any louder then the name would escape the two of you and run off somewhere it shouldn't be. “I love you. You are going to be okay. You are resilient and stubborn - I know you can do it.”

“I-I don’t want to, Y/N.” He sighed taking you in. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered as the doors burst open again with a slam. You rushed back into his arms for one final moment where you could feel safe.

“Please, don’t leave me. Don’t do this to me,” 

“I love you so much, Newtie. To the moon and back.”

“I-I love you, too.” 

The hushed words exchanged between the two were cut short as the big men came to pry you and Newt off of each other. You continued to fight to reach him, but your strength was nothing in comparison and you were only left reaching your hand out as the space between you two grew. Newt continued to scream and holler, even gathering the will to stand and jog after them. But, of course, he was overpowered by yet another unnecessarily strong guard. 

The last thing you saw of Newt was him on his knees, screaming your name and pleas for mercy.

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x male reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x m!reader #m!reader #male reader #x male reader #hp x male reader #harry potter #harry potter x male reader #hp x m!reader #angst #newt scamander angst #one shot #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #wizarding world #wizard #newt scamander oneshot #oneshot #sacrifice #bargain #muggle #muggle reader

[tried-my-hardest]

Passing Stars || A Newt Scamander Imagine

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader (Gender + House Neutral)

Summary: It's your third year at Hogwarts, and you can't help but notice the cute guy in Creature Care. So, what's your next move?

Word Count: 4342

A teeny, tiny disclaimer! I don't... know how imagines work... so apologies if this seems like a self-indulgent fic because well, at this point it is. But I'm open to writing anything (that's reasonable, of course) so please don't be afraid to request something! I'd love to go as in detail with your request as I did with this little story, perhaps even more in-depth! It's pretty much up to you :) Now, Enjoy!

_ _ _

You were never a fan of the way they presented people’s houses. They were loud, obnoxious, and worst of all, embarrassing. You dreaded watching people getting sorted into houses, the lackluster applause when someone was sorted into Slytherin, and the unparalleled favoritism when someone was sorted into Griffindor. You were judged from the very start, based on a title.

It’s your third year at Hogwarts, one you were dreading. You never made many friends during your prior years, and it didn’t feel like this year was any different. Aside from the casual friends you’d made in classes like Charms, Potions, and Astronomy, there wasn’t much to look forward to in terms of interaction.

That was before you walked into your “Care of Magical Creatures” class.

Professor Kettleburn stood in a clearing, surrounded by a strew of familiar faces. Faces that would probably stare at you with a blank look if you called them out by name. Which you could. You just don’t feel like getting stared at.

You were outside of the Forbidden Forest, a little too close for comfort. Your eyes watched the shadows in the forest, flickering as the wind moved the branches. It was eerie, as if something was looking back at you. You watched the forest for a while longer, settling down onto the grass like some of your peers. The professor had yet to acknowledge anyone, as he watched a separate spot of the forest. Times like this were when you wished you remembered to pack a watch, rather than leaving it on the corner of your bedstand back home.

Your fingers picked at the dirt in front of you, glad that your uniform consisted of mainly dark colors so they wouldn’t be too badly stained. The grass rustled a couple of feet from you as another student sat in the grass. You watched them out of the corner of your eye, curiosity lingering in the back of your mind.

His hair ran over his eyes, a jumble of messy brown locks atop his head. His face was covered in freckles that made random patterns along his face. His eyes darted towards you for a second before he straightened and resumed watching the forest. You smiled, his frightened nature endearing in a way. 

You scooted over, your socks picking up random dirt along the way. You paid it no mind, stopping once you sat next to your target. 

“Isn’t the forest mysterious?” You spoke, startling him once more. You laughed, quickly covered by a cough. He nodded meekly, seeming to curl in on himself. You waited a few more seconds before realizing he wouldn’t speak unless you prompted it.

“Newt, right? Newt,” You pause, trying to remember his last name. Yet with each passing second of awkward stuttering, you slowly stop talking and swallow harshly. You clench a fist, groaning internally at what a fool you are to forget someone’s last name, right to their face.

“Scamander.” You look at Newt, his face a bright red. You light up, happy to get a response. “Scamander! That’s- It was on the tip of my tongue, I tell you,” You chuckle, rapping your knuckles on your sides. 

“I’m (y/n). (y/n) (l/n),” You watched him smile, looking at you once more and darting his eyes away. The wind blew past the both of you, people’s voices rising around you. You turned around with an eyebrow raised. People were talking amongst themselves, at a considerable distance from you and Newt, may you add. They were all staring at the Professor intermittently, who’s now produced a notebook and is furiously scribbling into it.

You turned back around, clicking your tongue. “So… why are you taking this class?

Newt nodded slowly, shrugging. You watched him, waiting for a reply. He stared at the ground for a little too long for comfort, but you held onto the hope for a response. Your gaze drifted back to the chatter behind you, everyone’s conversations coming with relative ease. Well, of course, they’ve known each other for the better part of two years at this point. They had good social skills, skills you had yet to acquire. It’s no wonder that Newt would barely talk to-

“I l-like magical creatures. They’re f…fascinating.” Newt stuttered his way through the sentence, all while keeping his face a beet-red as he stared at the ground. You laughed, bumping your shoulders together. 

“Well, to each his own. I just picked this class cause in all fairness, who wants to take muggle studies?” You shudder in mock horror, pulling your knees to your chest as the wind delivers a chill down your spine. Newt laughed softly, his deathlike grip on his robes loosened, perhaps a sign that he was warming up to you.

He opened his mouth before he was interrupted by a book slamming. You turned around to find Professor Kettleburn staring at the class, his finger on his lip. “Everyone, stay completely still.” You froze, the wind ruffling your tie in the breeze. Your eyes followed Kettleburn as he jumped into a series of random, jerky movements. His hair flipped around, whilst his robes hung off of his shoulders, falling faster with each action. You caught a glance at a mess of greens in Kettleburn’s non-human hand as he extended it into the empty clearing. 

Everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats, leaning in to see what he could be feeding. People gasped once they saw Kettleburn’s metal fingers pried apart. A small grey creature revealed itself from thin air, its eyes fixated on the food in front of it. You look back to Newt, whose eyes were open wide in amazement. 

You smiled, turning back to watch Kettleburn swoop the creature into his arms, cradling it like a baby as it ate. He turned to the class, a broad smile on his face. “Now, can anyone tell me what the name of this creature is?”

Immediately, you saw Newt’s hand raise. No one else bothered, too fixated on the strange animal in front of them. 

“Ah, yes, Mr. Scamander?”

“It’s a Demiguise! Ah- Sir,” He corrected himself quickly, looking back at the ground once more. You felt some kids around you bristle, someone coughed ‘Nerd’ somewhere to your left. You shot the area a dirty look, but the professor paid them no attention.

“Correct, Mr. Scamander! This, my students, is the rare Demiguise. It is highly reveled in many communities, mainly for its fur and ability for precognitive sight, or as you all know it, predicting the future.” He smiled, the ecstatic grin on his face looking menacing with the odd mustache he wore.

“Fur?” You mumbled, tilting your head in confusion.

“They can make invisibility cloaks. Or- so I’ve r-read.” Newt whispered behind you, coughing to cover the sound of his stuttering. You turned around to smile at him, leaning in slightly. 

“So you’ve read?” You whispered back, raising an eyebrow in slight amusement. Newt flushed even harder than he had already been prior and began to pull at his tie.

“I told you, I- Uh, I really like m-magical creatures.”

He smiled at you, and you smiled back. Maybe, you’d have a friend this year. 

Class ended relatively quick, maybe too quick for your liking. 

Newt lingered awkwardly, a brown satchel hung on his waist that seemed to have come out of thin air. You got to your feet, brushing off the dead grass on your uniform.

“What’s your next class?’ You inquired, walking to the nearest entrance to the school side by side with Newt. He shuffled a crumpled paper out of his robe pocket, pausing to smooth it out on his leg.

“Um, I think- I have Charms n-next. Yeah.” Newt smiled, pursing his lips into a tight line. You glanced at your schedule, frowning slightly. 

“I’ve got Herbology next,” You paused before the both of you walked inside Hogwarts. “You mind if I compare our schedules?’ You held a hand out and stepped aside to give other people room to walk through the doors. Newt seemed slightly worried, his hand shook as he handed the schedule to you. You took note of it but moved on to comparing the two papers. 

A glance over revealed the two of you shared multiple classes.

“Hey!” You looked up, smiling. “We’ve got Defense Against The Dark Arts, Potions, and Astronomy together! How about that?”

Newt looked slightly shocked, stunned even, but smiled nonetheless. “That’s- great!” He stuck his hands in his pocket, rocking back and forth. You folded the papers back up, handing his schedule back. He nodded, heading inside. Some small talk later and you parted ways, the moving stairs taking the green-eyed boy from your sights.

You sighed, heading to Herbology. At least you had a couple of things to look forward to today.

Lunch rolled around faster than expected, with you getting out of Transfiguration fairly unharmed. Your robes, sadly, couldn’t say the same. Charred on the edges due to the unfortunate mishap that was the Draconifors Spell. You couldn't understand the appeal of creating a bunch of little dragons that wanted to eat your fingers. And, burn your clothes.

You made it to the mess hall, the familiarity of sitting alone was trickling back slowly, but surely. Your eyes wandered around, before catching onto a familiar head of messy curls. Your mouth curls upwards into a coy smile. Newt, who seemed to have a sixth sense of sorts, raised his head to catch your gaze. He smiled quickly before turning back down to his food.

You slinked up behind him, dropping onto the bench next to him. You got a couple of looks from the people around you but ignored them.

“Hey! How was Charms?” Newt seemed startled that you even bothered to sit with him, much less talk to him. He shrugged, picking at his half-eaten food.

“It was decent. We uh- learned about the Cheering Charm.” You tilted your head, and as you did, Newt flicked his wand at you, muttering under his breath. You were suddenly overcome by an urge to cheer, and well, that’s exactly what you did. You got to your feet, hooting and hollering like a madman. Your eyes widened, mortification rolling over you in waves. And yet, you couldn’t stop your cheering. Everyone’s eyes turned to you in confusion, as well as some professors who had just walked into the mess hall.

As soon as the urge faded, you shut up promptly and sat back down. Your face was flushed, a tremble running through your legs despite having sat down already. You turned to Newt, an expression of shock across your face. He was smiling to himself but quickly turned serious.

“Sorry, I- I thought it would be easier to s-show rather than tell,” Newt mumbled, his quirky half smile on his face. You couldn’t stay too mad toward your new friend.

“Nah, it’s cool. Just… never do it again,” You bumped his shoulder and laughed, then reached for the nearest plate full of food. His eyes watched as ash fluttered between your shoulders, falling onto the table. Newt raised an eyebrow, as he realized your fingers were scratched and bruised.

“I- What happened there?” He pointed, his fingers brushing against yours. You both straightened at the touch and you prayed to all the gods out there that your face wasn’t a bright red.

“Oh, you know. Transfiguration and uh, mini-dragons.” You wiggled your eyebrows, taking a bite out of your lunch. 

Newt nodded along as if mini-dragons weren’t out of the ordinary for him. “You know, (y/n), I’ve got some band-aids somewhere. I could… give you some. If you wanted,” He coughed, rubbing his forearm.  

“I’d love that, Newt!” You exclaimed cheerfully, as Newt began to ruffle through his bag. He produced a few spare bandaids, with little designs on a few. You pulled them closer to you, realizing they weren’t designs, rather, they were drawings of magical creatures. A little crude and simplistic but they were recognizable nonetheless.

“My mom, uh, she drew these. Just something to get me through my day and stuff. That one’s my favorite,” Newt pointed to a drawing of a Bowtruckle, a creature you’ve only seen in books. Your smile widens discreetly as Newt fidgets with the band-aid. It was kinda adorable watching Newt gush over creatures, even if he’d only done it a couple of times with you. Still cute nonetheless.

At this point Newt is watching you, his lips parted with a slight airiness to him. You say to him, “Is there something on my face?” while gesturing to your mouth. He shakes his head, tapping the table.

“Which one do you… want?” You look at the doodled on band-aids, before looking back at Newt.

“Whichever one you think looks best,” You say, hoping he chooses something nice. He does, in fact, and picks up the Bowtruckle one. He holds it out, expecting you to take it, but you instead wave your fingers around.

“You don’t expect me to put it on, do you? I’m so clearly eating!” You gasp in fake outrage, while your plate goes mostly untouched. Newt turned red, mumbling an apology as he grabbed your hand hurriedly. He jumped as if realizing how fast he grabbed your hand, but kept a firm grip on you as he applied the band-aid. The bandaid goes over your fingers like a little ring you could look at all day. You make a mental note to treasure the band-aid forever.

Newt finishes wrapping it, his hands lingering on yours for a few seconds. You almost sigh once he takes them back and places them in his lap. He’s really too nice to you.

You realized that most of the students around you are filtering out slowly. Your eyes look around the room, and it seems as if the next class is starting, really soon in fact. Newt caught onto it as well, and the pair of you start cleaning up.

“Don’t we have the next couple of periods together?” You handed Newt the rest of his bandaids, his hands soft compared with yours. 

“Um, mostly. I’ve got a free period while you have History of Magic,” You pause, your eyebrows raised as Newt waited for you to get up.

“I- uh, got a look at your schedule earlier.” He offered up, smiling as you both walked towards Potions.

“Aw, well, don’t get too happy. You’ve still gotta see this face for two more classes,” You gesture to yourself, smiling, and in turn, almost run into a wall. Newt holds back a small laugh before straightening up. You grumble, pushing him softly.

“Not funny.”

“I beg to differ.”

Potions passed by without a hitch, especially since Newt is your partner. The both of you made a good pair, aside from when you tripped over air and almost knocked Newt down as well. He laughed it off but you still felt guilty. 

He walked you to your History of Magic classroom, as you coaxed him to ramble about his other classes. You learned some more about Newt on that walk, a happy feeling bubbling to your chest as he divulged more to you. You learned that his brother’s name was Theseus and that he loved the color green. You learned that you weren’t his first friend at Hogwarts but had already made it onto his list of tolerable people. You scoffed at that, proclaiming that you’d make it onto a better list in due time. Newt assured you that it looked like it was heading that way. You spent the rest of the walk in awkward silence, wishing each other goodbye as you reached your class.

History of Magic couldn’t have gone by slower, especially with your teacher’s mundane voice. You breathed a sigh of relief as your class was dismissed. You sped out the door, realizing you and Newt had never set a plan as to where you would meet. Luckily that problem was solved as soon as it appeared.

Newt sat next to your class doorway, sleeping against the cool stone wall. You walked back to him, standing in front of him. You nudged his leg, prompting him to wake up, his eyes wide open in fear. It quickly faded as he looked up at you, worry replaced with a shy smile.

“Hey silly, you didn’t have to wait here.”

“I had the period off. Thought I’d- wait. Didn’t have anything else to do so, um-,” Newt picked at his fingers, awkwardness threatening to seem back into the conversation. 

“I- That was really sweet of you Newt. Honestly,” You offered him a hand, and he took it graciously. You hoisted him up and helped him pick his stuff off the ground.

“Ah, thanks (y/n),” The pair of you headed down to Defense Against The Dark Arts together, joking around.

As it turns out, Newt is really good at Defense Against The Dark Arts. Like, to an almost unfunny degree. You watched him in class, amazed as he completed task after task without a hitch. As he began to pack his things up, you leaned in to whisper, “Holy crap. When were you going to reveal you were an actual god at this?”

He just laughed you off, pulling at his tie. 

“I- I’m not a god. It just makes. Sense,” You nodded along as if you understood what he meant.

After class, you hung around for a little to finish writing some notes. Newt had been the only one to write comprehensible notes between the two of you, and you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to fail Charms as badly as you did last year.

“You think we could just… skip Astronomy?” Newt mumbled as you scribbled down words. You looked up, dumbfounded, pausing your writing to give Newt a wide-eyed stare.

“Did you just ask to- skip class? Who are you? And what have you done to Newt?” You point a finger at him accusingly, his face turning a bright red.

“I-! I just don’t like Astronomy that much. It’s- It’s not my cup of tea,” You still couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Out of all the classes, the one about space, space, is the one your new friend doesn’t like.

“Newt, you’re killing me here,” You groan, shoving your notes into a bag. Then the two of you proceed to haul ass to Astronomy.

The next couple of weeks went swimmingly, much to your delight. Your grades are up in classes, and you’ve grown considerably close to a certain green-eyed boy. You spent nearly every day together, he helped you with Defense Against The Dark Arts and Creature Care, and you kept him from jumping off the nearest tower because of Astronomy. Which was pretty easy, Newt just didn’t have the attention span to sit and stare at “dots in the sky,” as he so lovingly put it.

You found yourself drawn to him regardless. There was truly something about him. Maybe it was the way he’d laugh at your poorly constructed jokes, Maybe it was the way he’d cheer up when you sat next to him, his smile making the sun pale in comparison. Or maybe it was the way your fingers would brush against his, and he’d jump as if he’d seen a ghost, only to realize it was just you. Then he’d push his hand closer to yours, right until your hands were side by side. 

There was a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t explain, and it grew hotter when Newt was near. How you longed to chase that fiery feeling, put his lips against your own, hand in your hand.

But perhaps it would just be your little fantasy, nothing more.

You sat criss-cross on the stone floor of the Astronomy “classroom”. It was just a secluded area on a castle tower, without any kind of roof. There, your class would learn about stars while the late autumn winds pulled at your robes, tangling your ties. Newt was next to you, mirroring your seating position. His knees touched yours but neither of you felt like moving. The Astronomy professor was wrapping up class right about then, explaining your homework for the night. You leaned into Newt, his soft hair tickling your nose as you did. 

“Hey, Newt,” You whispered, taking your fingers and walking them down your leg. He hummed back in response, his eyes flickering to your fingers as they moved about.

“You wanna do something fun later?”

He gave you a side eye, a tired expression on his face. A couple of weeks with you, and you showed him just exactly what “fun” meant to you.

“If this fun activity involves sneaking out again, I think I’m going to pass (y/n).”

You groan, flopping your head onto his shoulder. You felt him tense underneath you, a sign that he was trying his hardest not to give into you.

“But I’ve got to show you something. Please? Pretty please?” You nudged him, causing him to exhale loudly. He brushed you off, an amused look on his face. “Alright. But if we get caught, you’re taking the blame,” He smiled his lopsided grin, pushing you playfully.

“Why, of course,” You shot back, an even bigger grin on your face.

Sneaking out after curfew was like second nature to you and Newt at this point. He’d been dragged along with you too many times to count that he’d picked up on your little tricks. The two of you tip-toed around the castle, Newt following you blindly as you still hadn’t explained where you were going.

“(y/n), you seriously can’t do this to me! Come on, where are we going?” He begged, making sure to keep his voice down. You kept quiet though, his pleas falling on deaf ears.

The two of you eventually reached your destination, the Astronomy tower. You turned back to Newt, whose face had fallen as he realized where the two of you were.

“Are you kidding me? (y/n), if this is your idea of a joke-” You stopped his ranting by grabbing his wrist and pulling him onto the floor. He tumbled awkwardly, and you winced, whispering an apology.

“Alright, I know you hate stars but, I’m a big fan of second chances. And you, my good sir, are the proud owner of a second chance tonight.” You pat the ground next to you as you lay down on the cold stone. The two of you had changed out of your uniforms, wearing casual sleeping clothes. The weather was nice tonight, with +a warm breeze blowing around the two of you.

Newt laid down next to you, his uninterested eyes panning across the vast sky.

“All I see is a whole lot of sky. Not really anything worth getting in trouble for.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You and Newt were a couple of inches apart, yet you prayed he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of you in waves.

“I wanted to show you this constellation. It uh- it kinda reminded me of us,” Newt stayed quiet as he watched you lift your wand. You recited a spell you had memorized just a few hours prior, and to your surprise, it worked. A glowing light emitted from your wand, silky strands of white floated over your heads and arranged themselves in a pattern.

“See, the spell is supposed to show you a constellation. It shapes it out so everyone can see it,” You whispered, the dull light shining across your face.

Soon, it stopped in your desired form. Newt coughed uneasily, rubbing his nose. 

“Uh, what’s it supposed to be?”

“It’s Andromeda and Perseus. They’re part of an old Greek myth,” You murmured, your eyes entranced by the figure above you.

“He saved her from a sea monster, you know. She was supposed to be a human sacrifice to the monster, but he came in and saved her, and her people. They got married soon after, and had a girl.”

“Cassiopeia,” Newt muttered, his voice soft and quiet. You turned your head over to him, and he did the same. 

“What? I’m quite brushed up on Greek Mythology, I’ll have you know. Still doesn’t explain why you dragged me out here though,” He trailed off, a hard look in his eyes.

“Well, I just thought it was … romantic. Something for us to look at together, or something,” You shut your eyes in embarrassment, your attempt at woo-ing Newt going a little awry.

All you heard for the next few minutes was the wind, slowly dying down, and Newt’s slow, even breathing.

You peaked an eye, wondering if your friend had fallen asleep. He hadn’t, rather, he was looking up at the sky. The spell had worn off, leaving the two of you in darkness, the only light coming from the night sky.

“I don’t think that was very romantic, (y/n). You pretty much gave me a history lesson,” A light airiness was in Newt’s voice as he mock scolded you. He lifted a hand, pointing to a cluster of stars.

“There. That’s romantic. Those stars make a little heart. You should’ve shown me that instead,” Your face flushed, as you followed Newt’s line of sight. You shifted closer to him, your eyes struggling to find the simple shape.

“Newt, I don’t-,” You paused, feeling his warm hand enclose your own. You stopped speaking, your heart beating loudly in your ears. Your hand felt warm inside of Newt’s, safe. The two of you fit like puzzle pieces, finishing that grand picture. Your world spun, everything slowing and suddenly feeling right. This felt right. Newt felt right.

“(y/n), are you still having trouble finding it?” Newt’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it echoed in your skull.

“No, Newt. I think I found it. And you’re right, it’s much more romantic,” He smiled, squeezing your hand. And you smiled back, because it felt right.

#imagine #one shot #fluff #reader insert #newt scamander #x reader #gender neutral reader #oneshot #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x you #stargazing #harry potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them

[its-vannah]

Wizarding World Masterlist

~Here's my growing Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts masterlist~

Key:

Fluff - 🦙

Angst - 🔥

Sad - 💧

Gender Neutral - ⭐

Theseus Scamander:

Just This Once (Summary: After years of pining over each other, you and Theseus decide to finally make things official) 🦙

A New Normal (Summary: You've known the Scamander brothers for years, after going to Hogwarts with them when you were kids. Now, you find yourself falling for a certain brother who makes your heart skip a beat whenever he walks into the room) ⭐

Mrs. Scamander (Summary: When Mrs. Scamander decides to have an intervention with her oldest son, Theseus, over his recent behavior, a revelation occurs that changes the course of the whole evening) 🦙

Our Secret (Summary: Being a professor at Ilvermorny has its perks, and meeting Theseus Scamander is one of them) ⭐

Theseus x Harry's House Masterlist (Summary: A collection of fanfics based off of Harry Styles' new album)

Confessions: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five (A series in which you and Theseus have confessions to make) 🦙

Bill Weasley:

All Too Well (Summary: Your turbulent romance with Bill Weasley. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "All Too Well") 🔥

Illicit Affairs: Part One | Part Two | (Summary: After knowing Bill since your days at Hogwarts, the two of you can't help but falling in love with each other. After Bill returns home late, Fred and George question him on where he's been) 🔥🦙💧

Charlie Weasley:

Let Her Go (Summary: You and Charlie were best friends during your years at Hogwarts, but a secret breaks the two of you apart. Will you ever reunite?) 🔥💧🦙

The Moment I Knew : Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (Summary: You've been in love with Bill Weasley since you first met at Hogwarts. But as his wedding approaches, you start to question which Weasley you've had feelings for) 🔥

Fred Weasley:

I Do (Summary: On your first visit to the burrow to meet Fred's family, memories of the two of you are the only thing you can think about) 💧🦙

Cedric Diggory:

With You (Summary: You and Cedric have been going strong for a while, but when he enters the Triwizard Tournament, being supportive isn't as easy as it used to be) 💧

Sirius Black:

Picking Up The Pieces (Summary: Being a healer at St. Mungo's, you've seen enough death with the wizarding war. You can't lose Sirius, too) 🔥💧

Sebastian Sallow

(She Just Won’t) Believe Me: After the death of (spoiler), you and Ominous question whether or not Sebastian will change.

#harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts oneshots #fantastic beasts imagines #fanfiction #theseus-scamander #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you #theseus scamander x reader #theseus x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x y/n #theseus scamander one shot #charlie weasley x y/n #charlieweasley #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley #sirius black x y/n #sirius #sirius x you

[sheisagoddess]

The tags are either exposing me or there just random

#sims 4 #did i stutter #portrait #queer nsft #win #colby brock x reader #dolan twins #colby brock x y/n #how could u do this to me #instagram #bruce wayne one shot #pedro pascal #oc art #one direction #dark!rafe cameron #fanart #newt scamander #procreate #fantastic beasts and where to find them #harry smut #kissy sunglasses #colby brock #zhongli #buddie #miles teller #horror film #yellowjackets #diary #my edit #michaela jae rodriguez

[uefb]

I absolutely love writing Newt Scamander as a dad. Absolute mama bear. Occasionally clueless and entirely ineffective? Sure, yeah, probably. Yet still always aggressively protective, in his own special way.

#fic: a teenage legilimens #oc ch: ephesus rafael goldstein scamander #newt scamander #fantastic beasts fanfic #my stuff #this one may never get completed bc it’s just a short one shot & doesn’t have much plot but it’s fun to scribble away at things sometimes #regardless #also fife has grown up to be the kind of kid that would join a frat #which is to say — he’s far more theseus than he is Newt & combined w the legilimency he’s got Weasley vibes #but Newt loves him nonetheless — and Tina loves him too - even tho she ironically blames all his rule bending on newt — the stories far #more complicated than that lol #anyway rambling #uefb rambles in the tags #back to statistics fml

[newt-and-salamander]

Newt Appreciation Month: Day 7: Favourite Newt Quotes

"There are no strange creatures, only blinkered people."

I love this one so much. I feel like it says so much about Newt, and about so many problems we face as a society. It's this openness which makes Newt see the world in his unique way. But this truth is not only applicable to Newt's creatures, but also to people (people like Leta or himself or possibly some of us, who might not fit in so well). I also think taking this to heart would make people look more understandingly and kinder at basically any social minority. And it should also help us to see that humans aren't the only species on the planet and we need to respect and take care of every specie's habitat.

#ugh putting the shot/reverse shot next to each other like this hurts my eyes - they aren't looking at each otherrr arrrghhh #I only chose one quote because it's my favourite by far and there are so many others which are also good #newt appreciation month #febulousnewt2023 #newt scamander #fantastic beasts #day 7

[thesonofdio]

The Student and her Teather

#thefantasticbeasts #newtscamanderxstudent!reader

Londres 1927

T/P T/N, jeune sorcière New-Yorkaise depuis toujours passionnée par les créatures magiques, à entendue parler d'un magiezoologiste qui habite à Londres. Elle est donc partie à sa recherche dans l'espoir qu'il lui apprenne son métier.

Elle arpente donc les rue à l'affût du moindre indice pouvant l'aider à trouver ce fameux Norbert Dragonneau. Quand tout à coup, en passant devant une boutique de bijoux anciens, elle aperçus quelque chose bouger à l'intérieur. Elle stoppa ses pas et retourna devant la vitrine et qu'elle ne fût pas sa surprise de voir un Nifleur en train de remplir la poche de son ventre de colliers, boucles d'oreilles et autres objets scintillants.

Sans pouvoir ce retenir, la jeune fille éclata d'un rire cristallin et déguéna sa baguette magique pour tenter de récupérer la petite créature voleuse. Mais avant qu'elle n'est pu faire quoi que ce soit un jeune homme au cheveux bouclé débarqua suivis d'un autre homme à moustache.

Il brisa la vitre avec un sort informulé et se ruha dans la vitrine pour essayer de récupérer le Nifleur. Malheureusement, la bête sauta hors du magasin, se faufilant sur la route. T/P se précipita alors sur la pauvre créature qui n'arriva pas à lui échapper.

Le jeune sortis de la vitrine saccagée et secoua sa baguette pour remettre tout en ordre. D'un air dépité il récupéra sa valise et commença à s'éloigner. Mais avant qu'il ne parte la jeune fille accouru à lui en lui tendant son Nifleur. Le regard de l'homme passa de la jeune fille à la créature et ainsi de suite.

- J'ai réussi à rattraper votre Nifleur avant qu'il ne s'échappe. Dit-elle tout sourire.

Le jeune brun lui lança alors un franc sourire et pris la créature dans ses bras avant de la remettre dans sa valise.

- Merci beaucoup...

- T/P T/N ! Elle lui serra la main franchement. Vous êtes Norbert Dragonneau n'est-ce-pas ?

- Euh oui oui, c'est moi. Il souria timidement.

- Je vous cherchais justement Monsieur Dragonneau... Il lui coupa la parole.

- Appelée moi Norbert s'il-vous-plaît.

- Bien sur ! Et bien, Norbert, j'étais à votre recherche.

- A ma recherche ? Il fronça les sourcils.

- Oui ! On m'a dit que vous étiez le seul magiezoologiste qui existe. Et étant passionnée par les créatures magiques je me demandais si vous pouviez m'apprendre votre métier... peut être ? Elle finit sa phrase dans un murmure, pas très certaine de sa réaction.

Norbert haussa les sourcils, surpris. Puis il esquissa un petit sourire.

- Et bien vous n'avez cas venir dans ma réserve et je verrais de quoi vous êtes capable... En plus d'attraper les Nifleurs, ce qui, croyez en mon expérience va vous être très utile. Elle ria doucement et le suivis, plus heureuse que jamais.

Ils transplanèrent ensembles et arrivèrent chez Norbert, dans sa réserve. La jeune fille pu enfin mettre en pratique tout ce qu'elle avait étudié depuis si longtemps. Et il faut avouer que Norber était plutôt enthousiaste à l'idée de l'avoir pour apprentis.

- Mais, où avez-vous appris tout ça ? Demandat-il curieux.

- Et bien grâce à votre manuel Norbert. Répondit-elle en riant.

Il devient rouge et rigola avec elle de bon cœur. La soirée continua comme ça. Et après deux heures de visite et de soins ils remontèrent à l'étage. Là, Norbert se retourna vers T/P et lui tandis la main.

- T/P, vous êtes officiellement mon apprentis. Il souriait.

Elle lui rendit sa poignée de main sautant presque tellement elle était heureuse.

- Oh merci Norbert, vous ne le regretterez pas je vous le promet !

- Oh mais j'en suis sur. Il sourit en coin en la regardant avec des yeux perçants sans s'en rendre compte. La jeune fille ne put s'empêcher de virer à l'écarlate.

Après cela ils allèrent tous manger et

T/P pût faire la connaissance de l'ami de Norbert ; Jacob Kowalski. Un garçon très gentil et aussi très amoureux d'une certaine Queeny Goldstein. Ce serait la sœur de Tina Goldstein la fille dont Norbert serait amoureux.

- Non Jacob, je te l'ai déjà dit, Tina et moi c'est finis. Dit-il en secouant la tête.

- Oh vous vous êtes disputés ? Demanda prudemment T/P.

- Ah non non pas du tout. Nous nous sommes quittés d'un commun accord. Nous étions mieux amis finalement. Et c'est ce que nous sommes à présent. Il lança un regard appuyé à son ami ce qui fit rire la jeune fille.

La fin du repas ce fit dans la bonne humeur. Jacob partie juste après et les deux passionnés d'animaux ce retrouvèrent seuls. Ils discutaient sur le canapé dans une ambiance tranquille.

- Au faite T/P que faisiez vous en Amériques ? Demandat-il, tourné face à la jeune fille, la tête posé sur sa main et son coude calé sur le dossier du canapé.

- Et bien je faisais mes études. Je viens de finir il y a quelques semaines. Après cela je suis directement venu vous chercher. Lui répondit-elle assise en tailleur face au brun.

- Oh mais alors qu'elle âge avez-vous ? Dit-il en se levant allant chercher la bouilloir qui commençait à siffler.

- J'ai 19 ans.

- Oh dans ce cas je peux te tutoyer puisque je suis ton aîné. Dit-il avec un sourire malicieux.

- Aucun problème MoNsIeUrS DrAgOnNeAu. Dit-elle avec exagération en riant. Le sorcier éclata de rire aussi.

- D'accord d'accord tu peut me tutoyer aussi si tu veux. Dit-il en revenant s'asseoir. Il lui tandit une tasse de thé. Tu en veux ? Demandat-il.

- Oui merci. Dit-elle dans un sourire en prenant la tasse dans ses mains.

Ils discutèrent encore une heure avant d'aller se coucher.

- Et bien bonne nuit Norbert. A demain ! Dit-elle en s'apprêtent a passer la porte d'entrée.

- Attend ! Où vas-tu dormir ? S'inquiétat-il.

- Oh je pense que je trouverais bien une auberge ou un hôtel pour la nuit.

- Et pour demain et les autres jours hein ? Non, hors de questions. En plus il est déjà minuit-et-demis, tu ne trouveras rien d'ouvert et je ne peut pas laisser une jeune fille érer seule dans les rues de Londres en pleine nuit. Non tu vas prendre la chambre d'amis ! Il déblatéra tout ça d'une traite.

T/P T/N sourit et rie doucement.

- D'accord. Dit-elle simplement.

- Vraiment ? Génial ! Alors viens, suis-moi.

Il l'emmène dans une jolie petite chambre où elle ouvrit sa valise et s'installa pour dormir.

Le lendemain matin elle se leva la première, ayant l'habitude d'être reveillée très tôt par sa famille. Elle s'attela donc à préparer le petit déjeuner pour remercier son hôte. Elle faisait l'omelette quand ce dernier arriva dans la petite cuisine, torse nu...

En voyant la jeune fille, la poêle dans la main, la bouche ouverte et les joues rouges le regarder fixement il prit conscience qu'il n'était pas seul, sursauta et balbutia des excuses avant d'aller enfiler un débardeur noir.

Il portait un pantalon ample en tissue beige et était pieds nu. T/P, quant à elle portait une grande chemise et un pantalon de pyjama aussi.

Norbert était rouge écarlate alors que la jeune fille ne pouvée se retenir de rire face à la scène qui c'était déroulée devant ces yeux quelques minutes auparavant.

- Je suis désolé T/P, j'avais oublié que je n'était plus seul. Avouat-il gêné.

- Oh non ce n'est rien Norbert. Ce n'est pas le premier torse que je vois, vous... Mais elle ne finit pas sa phrase venant ce rendre compte de ce qu'elle disait, elle vira à son tour au pourpre.

Cette fois c'est le magiezoologiste qui éclata d'un rire franc.

- Non, enfin ce que je veux dire c'est que j'ai grandis avec trois frère alors je les voyait souvent torse nu. Vous voyait ? Dit-elle en begayant.

- Oui oui je vois... Répondit-il simplement, un sourire sur le visage en scrutant la jeune fille devant lui. C'est vrai que maintenant que vous le dite, vous ne m'avez pas encore parlée de votre famille.

- Oh il n'y a rien à dire d'intéressant en même temps. A vrai dire je n'ai jamais eu de très bonnes relations avec eux. Dit-elle en leurs servant l'omelette.

- Merci, ça a l'air délicieux ! S'exclama le sorcier en se jetant sur la nourriture. C'est pour ça que vous êtes venu à Londres ? Pour les fuir ?

- Les fuir non, juste prendre du recule... Mais surtout et avant tout pour vous trouver Monsieur. Elle lui lança un regard amusé alors que ses joues prirent une teinte rosées.

- Et je suis ravis de vous avoir servis d'alibi pour vous échapper des États-Unis. Il rigola.

- On peut difficilement faire meilleur alibi il faut dire ! Elle rigola à son tour.

Une fois le petit-déjeuner finis, Norbert emmena son assistante dans son sous-sol. Ils passèrent la journée à s'épier, à se toucher les mains par inadvertance et j'en passe.

Les jours passèrent et cela fit bientôt deux moi que T/P travaillait au côté de Dragonneau et évidement le contact entre les deux individu ce faisait plus familié. Ils étaient devenus très complices.

C'était évident que la jeune fille plaisait à Norbert, il ressentait même plus de fascination pour elle que pour Tina avant. Et inversement, T/P était très attirée par le magiezoologiste mais persuadée qu'il ne pourrait jamais l'aimer. Et puis elle était trop jeune pour lui et pas assez belle.

Enfin c'est ce qu'elle pensait jusqu'à ce jour où Norbert -sous conseil de Jacob bien sur- décida de lui faire une surprise. Le premier soir où il ce sont rencontrés, après le dîner quand Jacob était partie, elle lui avait confiée qu'elle avait toujours rêvée d'avoir son propre Nifleur. Mais n'a jamais pu parce que ses parents détestaient les animaux et maintenant elle ne peut pas parce qu'elle n'a pas assez d'argent. Hors il se trouve que les Niffleurs de Norbert viennent d'avoir une portée de bébés Nifleurs. Alors il c'est dit que ça lui ferait plaisir dans avoir un pour elle. Et puis il comptait aussi lui avouer ses sentiments ce soir...

Ce soir là Y/N revenait d'une visite chez Queeny -avec qui elle était devenu très amie- et venait de poser son manteau sur le portant qu'elle sentit une présence dans son dos ; Norbert. Elle se retourna en souriant, les joues roses.

- Y/N... Chuchotat-il à son oreille.

- Norbert qu'y à t-il ? Demanda t-elle perturbée par ce contact.

Sans répondre il glissa son bras autour de sa taille et la guida sur le canapé où elle s'assit. Le magiezoologiste se mit devant elle et lui tandis une moyenne boîte en bois trouée. A l'intérieur, la jeune fille aperçus quelque chose bouger.

- C'est pour toi. Lui dit doucement le sorcier. J'espère que ça te plaira. Conclut-il avec un petit sourire mignon quand elle prit la boîte de ses mains avec précautions.

Elle ouvrit le couvercle de la boîte et en examina le contenue. Soudain son regard s'illumina, elle posa soigneusement la boîte sur la table basse et sauta sur l'homme pour lui faire un câlin. Le concerné lui rendit son étreinte en l'entourent de ses bras et la serrant contre lui comme si il ne voulait plus la voire partire. Il respirait le parfum qui émanait de sa chevelure C/C : lavande. Il adore la lavande.

Elle se détacha de lui et l'embrassa sur la joue en lui murmurant un petit : "merci infiniment Norbert, je ne sais pas comment te remercier".

Alors elle se retourna pour aller voir la boîte quand une main s'accrocha à son poignet. Il l'a fit pivoter vers lui et d'un pas rapide se raprocha d'elle, posa sa main sur sa joue et posa ses lèvres sur les siennes. La jeune fille répondue à son baiser en glissant ses mains dans la chevelure du sorcier. Il posa ensuite son autre main sur ses hanches. Le baiser dura comme ça encore plusieurs secondes et les deux amoureux durent se séparer par manque d'oxygène.

- Y/N tu me plais... Vraiment. Lui susurat-il doucement.

- Oh si tu savais comme j'ai attendue se moment. Évidement que je t'aime Norbert ! Et elle l'embrassa à nouveau.

Et voilà, nous laissons l'intimité qu'il faut aux deux amants. En tour cas ce qui est sur que ce fut un choque pour Jacob de débarquer chez son ami et de le surprendre dans son lit avec la jeune fille. Mais bizarrement, Queeny elle, ne fût pas surprise du tout...

#one shot #newt scamander #teacher newt #newt scamandet x reader #teacher x student #teacher!newt x student!reader #jacob kowalski #fantastic beasts

[strangerdangerwrites]

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

Chapter Summary: real partnerships need faux relationships.

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

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

the art of lies masterlist

YOU CAN TELL A LOT ABOUT A PERSON by the way of their touch.

Is it comforting? Like a mother who eases their child about the bruise on their knees.

Is it skilled? Like the pianist who is adept at playing the key to a composition.

Is it warm? Like the embrace of a friend whom you have not seen in years.

Is it tender? Like the palm of the lover carefully caressing your cheek.

Or is it dominating? Like the hands holding your neck, making you gasp for air while you could only comply. 

Every breath you take, clawing at the hands that tighten with every passing minute. Strangling you until all you see are the ceilings painted like the night sky, it would be your deepest desire to be held so gently, not like this. Not like this. Your lungs burning with every passing second, reaching for anything, a small gasp of wind would be enough to suffice.  The only thing that registered in your mind was how hard your heart was beating out of your chest. One more tightened grip and it would be your last breath, your feet wriggled right under his grasp, tears welling out of yours. You didn’t even know you could cry.

You didn’t want it to end like this, to be seen unsightly. To lie cold on the white sheets, eyes with a blank glassy stare and tear stains on your cheeks. The tell-tale sign that you were once alive is gone with your last breath. You didn’t want it to end like this… You were a fighter— you were fighting for a semblance of a home, the warmth, and the pure love.

With a gasp, you tapped on the arms that held your neck, trying to push off the undesired touch. You grabbed them harshly, as if your life depended on it, and pushed them off your frame. You sat still and coughed, the air you desperately wished went back to your senses slowly. You were alive. You are alive, Feeling the pulse of your veins right beneath your bruised neck.

The man on the sofa whispered but words fell on deaf ears, he muttered something, and all you could do was hum. Unlike earlier, the rough hands by your neck weren’t like the soft kisses he left on your shoulder, leaving the feeling of ice on your skin.

“I said tell me the truth. Did I hurt you?” He asked, warm breath tickling your skin. Looking right at your shoulder his arms circled your waist as he inhaled your scent. 

“You didn’t.” Intense eyes looked right back at you. His once-slicked-back hair was ruffled lying flat on his forehead, he looked at you. Scoping your reaction once more but nodded, nonetheless.

Lies. Lies. Lies. It comes naturally to you, like breathing.

And only one person had caught on to your lies. You take pride in having a knack for the art of deceptiveness, yet when Theseus Scamander looked at you, he knew that you had recognized Charles Moore. Mr. Scamander was far too perceptive and smart for his good, his nobleness would only lead to trouble.

The truth is it wasn’t even in the Amour Délicat that you had first met the missing assistant delegate, his thoughts were loud and clear, unbearable with the thought of your beauty.

‘She’s beautiful.’ The words you have seen a thousand times. 

And for the second time, Charles Moore presented himself in front of you, right in front of a jewelry shop, he held a flashy ring that glittered in the sun. You tried to look at your surroundings, to look for the people that accompanied courtesans every time you had to go out for help. But you couldn’t feel or see them, strange.

“Run away with me. I’ll make you the happiest woman on earth.” Charles Moore proposed, kneeling on one knee as a crowd of onlookers looked at the spectacle expecting you to say yes.

“I do not even know you; you must have had the wrong person.” You said as you turned around to walk another block, trying to get away from his hands as he tried to reach you. 

“You don’t understand, I am in love with you! You are the woman of my dreams. Why are you running away from me? I am your true love!” Your heart hammered in your chest; you couldn’t risk losing your job by creating a scene in front of the crowd. Madame Blanche kept you her secret, a weapon to investigate secrets and he is risking it by following you. 

When you have reached the dark alleys of Paris, streets that looked at you in hunger, you were sent back to a dark time where you had no roof over your head. You have seen life and decay in these very streets. It felt like you were back from where your stomach growled in hunger as you stared at the windows of a bakery begging for a piece of bread. You felt your lungs tightening in your chest like an incarcerous spell had taken hold of your chest, squeezing it until panic littered your veins. Your eyes darted at the crowd, looking for the protection that you desperately craved. Suddenly, multiple people stood in front of you, dressed in shabby clothing. They had followed you, looking at you with disdain asking if you were acquainted with the man earlier, you shook your head no as tears threatened to spill in your eyes, only for them to grab your arms harshly.  Every spell of protection flew over your head as your heart still hammered in your chest, stunning stem into their place you ran. The soles of your feet were sore and when you were back to the familiar streets of the red-light district, back to Amour Délicat, you could finally breathe. You stood there for what felt like a lifetime, only to hear the panicked breaths of people who were supposed to protect you.

That is the memory you had shown Theseus, who is now sitting on the sofa with his head propped up on a soft pillow looking at the ceilings while dissecting every memory of the encounter, For someone to force their memory on you it would hurt for the first time. You muttered a healing spell to ease his pain, while he lay on the soft velvet seats, collecting his thoughts.

“I would say that you are quite indeed a great liar, but the first time you looked at me I knew you were lying.” He said with a cheeky grin. Proud that he had seen through your facade of lies. His eyes remained closed, and you frowned.

“What gave it away?”

“Your eyes. My mother said you can see a lot of a person through their eyes, that’s why Hippogriffs only respect you if you look right into their eyes. And you didn’t with me, you covered yours with a smile.” Opening his eyes, he looked right back at you. “And that is your flaw, you’re too good of a liar that lies upon lies is the tell-tale that you are hiding something.”

What a funny thing, you failed to be the greatest deceiver. Now you were only obligated to an oath of truth to Theseus Scamander. You were a mere pawn in this game, all your life you were, and to be presented with a ticket out, you became a feral dog ready to taste the sense of freedom. Your truth is hard to come by because all you knew were lies. And the way he had you right wrapped around his fingers was a sure new record of low for you, what a pity you were. Madame Blanche would sure be ashamed. You and your rotten judgment would lead to your demise; you were certain.

Yet, he vowed for your safety. All that needs to be done is you get information as you’ve always done before. Gather secrets and tell him what he wants, that would be easy. The only obstacle was how you would communicate discreetly, all he needed to do was be within your vicinity for you to use legilimens to him. But, how, he couldn’t simply use his account to buy your time, he significantly declined that idea. His righteous beliefs prevented him from using you for that kind of service, ‘We are working together, you don’t need to think about ways to please me. Your help is fine.’ he says.

Madame Blanche would become too curious, too prying as to why the British auror had come to take you, therefore you settled on an agreement, every time you had to go out, he would trail by the shadows until both of you were all alone he would get the information he wanted.

You would ease into Mr. Scamander’s mind gently, give him the truth that he wanted. 

The man that lay on your sofa slowly unwrapped his arms around your waist. It was becoming a common occurrence for you to be lost in thought. Being deep into your head, made you make plans for the imminent future, like what would you or where would you go questions have circled your mind. Daydreaming has now been a habit that distracts you and makes you hope, and having hope is a dangerous thing.

You even forgot it was not Mr. Scamander in the room with you but a regular patron of yours, whose name you were forced to remember since he was a high-paying clientele. Pierre Baudelaire, the next-inline as the Duke of Baudelaire, a part of the royalty of pure-blooded families. And you were nothing but his mistress.

If you squint your eye, you would’ve thought it was the figure of a certain auror, something your mind didn’t expect it to play. Buttoning his suit with ease, Baudelaire acquires an extravagant box in his coat pocket. He kneeled right in front of you and grabbed your hand in his.

“What is this?” 

“A gift.”

“I don’t think I can accept—”

“Take it.”

Your hands fiddled with the box unwillingly, his palms pressed to it tightly, not giving you the choice to reject his offer. Nonetheless, you smiled at him not before you grabbed your robe and walked with him as he went to say his goodbyes.

With one last look, he turned around to step in front of you. His deep green eyes stared at you unblinking not before holding your neck, lightly this time. With his thumb, he tilted your head up at him not before giving you a kiss. Closing your eyes and the hold on your neck slowly tightened. The feel of your pulse right beneath his skin, you willed your heart to remain calm, afraid that the repeat earlier would happen again.

The touch of authority is evident in the way he holds your neck, making you want to submit to his desires that are still not satisfied. Back then you would’ve let them, it was your job after all. You would’ve been your ruin, a tool of satisfaction but now you feared. You fantasize about life outside these very caging walls. Back then, you would’ve been fine if your last dying breath was in between the sheets, and the taste of freedom far from your mind. But now it is different.

When the lift doors closed behind him and your clientele for the day had gone, you gave a tired sigh and rested your back among the door frames. Your hand touched your neck feeling the faint bruise slowly starting to burn, by the time you would have looked in the mirror you were sure that it would’ve been dark red. Going back inside the room, other elves started appearing and cleaning the room from the ground up. And at the corner of your eye, Bernadette gave you a comforting smile. A cup of tea in her hand

“I hope I didn’t take long. Bernadette.” Grabbing the warm cup of tea in hand, the crushed leaves provided you with the comfort that you needed. You muttered a ‘thank you’ not before hearing the creaking wall opening behind you. You followed her as both of you walked towards the hidden door in the room, the bricked walled lead you downstairs to the common rooms and large dining hall for every courtesan. Loud chatter and boisterous laughter could be heard echoing on your way down. 

As soon as you opened the large lounge where every staff and courtesan lazed around; there they talked about rumors of their own, happenings on the street, and what the client of the day did. Passing by some who flaunted their lover’s gift as they giggled at the thought of love. Not before you get stares of your own; thoughts you could hear loud and clear about how you were the cause of Maeve’s disposal. Not even caring that their voices were loud whispers.

If Maeve didn’t run her tattle tale mouth, then would have still been working here, It was not your fault she grew jealous of your status as the right hand. She did it to herself, you were merely a vessel to her downfall. At first, that former courtesan acted like you were the best of friends, clinging to you to make her status higher but you knew not to make friends; you could hear and see the disdain in her thoughts as soon as she saw you. Thoughts about how undeserving you were, and that you were never special to begin with. And when she realized that you were unapproachable and someone who never let her secrets slip, she knew that you would never open up. 

“Why did Maeve get to be punished, she should’ve been the one who left.” A comment that went past your ears. You paid no reaction and continued your way back to your room, all you needed to do was get out and talk to Theseus, passing him a piece of crucial information about how you were being trailed these last few days and how Maeve held no contact after being laid off by Madame Blanche. No letters to her friends in Amour Délicat, which is unlike her character at all. She liked to gossip and was often associated with the one who made the nasty comment about you, and to not get a peep out of the former courtesan was unlikely. Very unusual.

Passing down rooms until you reach the final door. Courtesans from Bouquet de Blanc had different sets of rooms. You were never placed to bed in the lower ground rooms, where one hall five people are being accommodated in their respective rooms, you stayed on the upper floors where a singular door resides. There were clothes designated for you to wear, to not lose their status, and you were only required to wear white, a sign of purity when the truth is you are embedded with sins. 

Opening the door, what greeted you was a simple room. No knick-knacks, just all the necessities to be considered a bedroom. There were no high ceilings or chandeliers like the room upstairs that decorated this simple abode. The only splash of the decor was the potted Epiphyllum oxypetalum residing at the dresser, its buds still not formed. It was charmed to be water daily while you were occupied by other means, you never miss it when it blooms once a year. This plant was a gift from the Madame, every courtesan had a flower designated to be their own identity. A cruel reminder that this is who you are in the establishment of Madame Blanche. A flower in her bouquet of courtesans.

Bernadette who has been by your side all this time summoned the golden tub, and immediately you succumb to cleaning yourself hastily. You scrubbed hard while the water still flowed to a full; Bernadette rushed as well as she poured an essence of floral shampoo right into your hair. The house elf saw the forming bruise right at your neck and touched it gently.

“Again? Please be careful around men like that Miss.” You flinched when her cold hands touched the sensitive skin, she whispered a healing spell. You could only nod as you hurried to dress yourself, in simple clothes, something inconspicuous.

“Are you meeting the auror again?” Bernadette asked. Worry was written all over her face.

“I have to, this— this contract is an opportunity I could simply not pass. When the time comes, I’ll make sure that you’ll come with me to be free. And this is the only reason for that to happen, trust me. Please.” Kneeling right in front of the house elf, she caressed your cheek and wiped the worry off your face. Bernadette nodded and put a tight lip on her lips signifying her silence. The house elf that you have trusted your whole life, embraced you in a hug like a doting mother would. 

The truth is Bernadette is your only friend, she is the only other person you ever trusted and cared for. When the world turned their eyes with disgust at you, it was empathy and a cup of warm tea that she offered. Bernadette took care of you as a loving mother would; not that you knew what it's like to feel a mother’s touch. It was she who gave you warmth, and sincerity. And even if you are not related by blood, the bond you have with each other is irreplaceable. 

“What would you do if she asks?” 

“I’ll think of something, don’t worry.”

“Stay safe.”

“I will.”

Walking towards the back doors, you stopped at the guard’s quarters to call upon Chen and Marc. The men who were assigned to watch your every move whenever you are needed outside. They did not only to keep you from harm but to prevent you from running away. Those were Madame Blanche’s orders. 

“Are we too lazy to go outside boys?” You crossed your arms across your chest and looked at their round of poker game.  Groaning, the two boys sat their cards down to fold. And just by hearing their thoughts out loud, they were dejected. Placing their cards down, they begrudgingly stood to follow you, calling out to their other mates about continuing the game later.

“Where are we going today, Miss? Another theater or a trip to see the Seine?” Chen enthusiastically asked.

Chen and Marc were great at their job, they knew to keep tabs on all behavior and what to report to Madame Blanche as soon as the trip was done. You had been doing this for years, and with experience, you knew how to throw them off your scent easily. All you need is a place wherein utmost surveillance would become useless when faced with difficulty; for that to happen you need an obstacle, an obstacle called the non-magiques. With the planned rendezvous in mind, you hummed not even trying to act overly giddy at the thought. 

“We are going to the non-magiques golden district, the Champs-Élysées Avenue.” With a loud choking sound, followed by a slap on the back you walked towards the double doors. The feeling of air right on your skin made you elated.

“What for?”

“I need a look… a look on how to be the perfect bride.”

For the non-magiques it would take them 10-12 hours to travel to Champs-Élysées Avenue from the Amour Délicat, but apparition came easy to you and there are portkeys scattered in Paris. Besides, the farther you are in Amour Délicat the better. You didn’t need prying eyes or ears to watch your every move, and besides the non-magiques tourists spots were certainly a beauty to look at, that was just an additional benefit. Marc and Chen could only comply with your demands as you looked at every boutique with wonder in your eyes. They were on edge and yet they couldn’t do anything about it, afraid that the Bureau des Aurors would show up any minute. They were not accustomed to traveling outside the wizarding walls, they were wary that they would be captured and jailed if they ever slipped and showed magic towards the non-magical people. Pinballs of sweat dripped to their forehead as their wands remained at the inside of their pocket, eyes darting across one another as they tried to remain calm.

“Did you hear about ‘Handcuff' Houdini? I believe he is now in Wales touring! How I wish I could’ve seen his magic again; my papa said it was like sorcery!” You nudged the thought loud and clear to the young boys who bumped past your escorts. Messing around a little more, you whispered the fear of sorcery in their veins. 

Another group of elegant young ladies passed by this time their thoughts were merely pure coincidence. 

“I’m excited, I’ll finally be able to go to Magic City.” You stopped to tap them on their shoulder, the girl stared up at you in wonder. You looked regal with your white coat and scarf, even in the eyes of the non-magiques you were a beauty to look at.

“Did you say Magic City? I don’t believe that I’ve been there, care to tell me where it is?”  You asked, voice loud and clear for the eavesdropping escort to hear. “Yes— yes the one by rue de l'Université. Their dance halls have the most extravagant balls and celebrations. I heard that it is the most magical place here in Paris. We hope to see you there!” 

“Is that so? Thank you and I do hope to see you too. Have a wonderful day!” You turned around at their pale faces and gave them a small smile.

“Do you think that is a wizard-owned location?” Chen approached you but you could only hum in uncertainty, placing doubts onto their heads.

“I don’t know… I do think it is.” Turning around, you smiled as you heard one of your escorts gulp nervously, whispering amongst themselves about this new development and how they would tell Madame Blanche. If it is a new competitor, then it would be a threat to the Madame’s establishment

“Come on Chen and Marc, you have to hurry we do not have all day.” You hurriedly walked, passing through throngs of people, widening the gap as the men behind you were slowly losing you among the crowd. As soon as you walked two blocks away, you walked inside the corner shop street. 

Ready to welcome yourself in, the floral ambiance greeted your senses, the name of the boutique long forgotten when you realized what kind of establishment it was. Countless white bridal dresses decorated its walls, and mannequins stood still wearing expensive-looking gowns. In another life, you would’ve rejoiced to be a bride, but now you despised the color white. 

White. Felt restricting; it reminded you of the control, the emptiness, the loneliness, and the lies. White made you feel empty. 

“Welcome to ‘Love Affairs’. How may I help you today?” The boutique assistant's voice spooked you and immediately helped you to snap out of it. She guided you to a sofa that held champagne and a catalog. It almost made you nauseous to see the closed catalog staring straight back at you, you thought that if you scanned through its pages, you would see yourself and the price under your name. You held everything in your will to force the bile from coming out of your mouth. This place felt sickly, it reminded you of Amour Délicat. 

But you remember Theseus, curse him for choosing something like this. Something that is triggering every parcel in your body to just run away. He had provided you with this exact location, a place wherein you can do it discreetly. He could not afford to use the hotels the Aurors were staying at, that would cause too much curiosity in his superior. And the tavern had too many curious eyes and ears, this place was the first best thing. A place where no one would look for you and you could come up with an alibi easily, here you know that Marc and Chen could not follow you or it would raise suspicion.

Mr. Scamander… Mr. Scamander was here. Forcing yourself to remain in control you asked, “I was wondering if an English man has come in here? He was supp—” Her eyes widened in delight before you could even finish your sentence.

“Oh, you must be his bride! What a wonderful couple you two are. Come with me!” She urged you to stand up and she grabbed your hand, almost dragging you up the stairs where you can look at the catalog of dresses privately. 

A lone stylist stood in the middle of the room, entertaining a man who was slouched down on the couch. His knees showing signs of nervousness.

“His fiance is here!” The girl called out and Theseus looked at you, he expected you to not even show up but when you did his fear was lifted. He stood immediately, engulfing you in a tight embrace as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand hovered right behind his back, wary of your touch on his. You were afraid that if you became too close, he would flinch and push you away. All it took you was a second to decide before giving him an embrace of equal force, not too harsh that your bones would crush and not too soft that the wind could blow you away.

With his voice in your ear and his hand carefully drawing circles into your back, he whispered. “We need to talk, they almost thought you stood me up.” 

It did interesting things to you, his whisper felt like feathers on your back making you arch closer to him and parted your lips. You felt yourself tremble to his voice, almost wanting more; you almost wanted to be greedy and see where this would lead. You push back to stare at him, but this is not the time or place for it, you have a job. And your job is to give him the information that he needs, not your services but secrets; he needed your secrets. And you two were not alone.

Your palm caresses his cheek softly; “Follow my lead.” 

Dropping your hand back to your side, you turned to stare at the stylist, the white streaks on her told of her age. She gave you a genuine smile, and in her thoughts, you could see her admiration. Slowly his hand left your back to stay right in his pockets, the warmth leaving as he did. 

‘Just like me and my husband.’ The lady's thoughts circled in your mind as her finger fiddled with her own ring. 

You formally introduce yourself and shake the stylist’s hand, flattering your eyes. Like stepping in front of an opera house, you performed another lie of a lifetime.

“I had to apologize, I had to run an errand. It is hard to plan a wedding with only two people.” You gave them your made-up story, how quickly and easily it came to you. 

Theseus would’ve thought it was true, but he knew your truth. Your contract was to only tell him the truth and to be seen on the other side of your white lies, he knew not to meddle with an expert at hand. You were far too quick on your feet to lie between your teeth, it came easy to you. He admired you for that, you would make a great auror. 

“The way your husband came here was uncertain, we almost pushed him out of our boutique. He was a nervous wreck. Now that I know why he is like that, your case is something unheard of, we always thought that the groom would only see the bride’s dress at the wedding, not the planning. Yet, you do not need to worry about anything, we'll make sure that this is a wedding you’ll never forget.”

Theseus stepped to your left and closed your hand in his, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles, hiding the view of your ringless finger from the spectators in front of you. “We wanted it to be private, just the two of us against the world.” He declared, and the boutique’s assistant swooned at the thought of pure love. 

“Ah, then why don’t you let us do the magic, all you must do is trust us and we will surprise you with the collection suited for someone like you. We will not leave you disappointed.” The stylist said as she closed the catalog and ushered the young assistant down the stairs. 

With the given privacy, you immediately walked toward the round-stage podium and closed the curtains surrounding it, not before dragging Theseus inside. Charming a muting spell in the vicinity, you looked up at him with seriousness plastered on your face. Now you were back to business, putting down the facade of pretending to be husband and wife.

He fiddled with something in his inner breast pocket. “Take this.” 

In his hand, a small dainty ring resides. It didn’t need the most expensive of gems to look beautiful as it glittered through the sun's rays. The golden band protected the one moonstone right in its middle, it looked beautiful and delicate.

Not even realizing that you were traversing his mind, you found a memory behind it. It was his mother’s ring. In his head, you saw him in front of the dining table along with his mother passing that very ring with a smile on her face, her small freckles dusted on her cheeks looking the same as her son. You can see her muttering the words ‘When the time comes, I know you’ll give it to the right person.” His mother placed the ring in his hand and closed it tightly. You can see him being apprehensive but with one last look, he thanked his mother and hugged her.

“This is your mother’s. Mr. Scamander— I–I don’t think I am the right person for this.” You muttered, eyes darting back to his eyes. The palm of his hand was left unoccupied with the ring as you didn’t even want to touch something so special to him, afraid that your ruination would cause its destruction. Your heart was pounding loudly, mind muddled with the unknown as the thoughts of all people within 50 meters became one. The voices all came at you at once as the white noise grew louder. You were breathing heavily, your hand slapped right into your ears to make the voices of the people stop.

His eyes grew worried, as he held your hand beside your head. Muttering. He was muttering something. You stared at his lips as you leaned closely.

“They’ll think you’re lying if you are not wearing the ring.”

“Oh... Yes of course.”

You expected he was giving it to you as an act of commitment, but his thoughts were loud and clear, you just didn’t expect the disappointment that followed. Placing the ring onto your right hand, not before he stopped to carefully hold your hand and place it on your left ring finger.

“Vena Amoris. Vein of Love. You wear it on your left, closer to your heart.” He whispered, realizing what your implication meant. Air thick with tension and uncertainty made you step back, giving distance and formality once more. This is a job, you don’t meddle with a personal relationship with it; you should know better than that.

Clearing your throat, eyes avoiding his stare as his mouth opened and closed, trying to pull the words right out of his mouth.

“Should we start? We can’t afford to lose time by dallying around.” As professional as ever, you procure your wand to show him the memory. Shaking his head, he nodded and stood straight closing his eyes, as he waited for you to push the memory into his mind.

In this memory, you gave him the exact faces of the people who are trailing you, the same people who asked if you were acquainted with Charles Moore. Even giving him the exact location where and when these people were trailing behind you. Two men, a feat larger and burlier than he is and one small with a mean look in his eyes. 

For the second memory, you gave him the news about the unresponsiveness of the former courtesan Maeve. You gave him details about how she never answered letters from her friends and almost seemed like she disappeared from the face of the world when she was a person who is quite the opposite of that. You gave him details as to her last known location, giving him the harder part of the job. 

When you were done, he was gasping for air, almost as if he was drowning. Theseus almost tripped on the curtains as they opened when he fell. You tried to catch him but he was halfway on the floor when you caught his arm. You dragged him back to the couch while he regained his senses. Transferring memories with the use of legilimency is not an easy art to master, with time you’ll learn to endure the pain better but, for his second time, Theseus was faring far better. 

When the assistant downstairs heard the bustling noise of someone falling, she immediately came upstairs to see you hovering right above your supposed husband. Meanwhile, Theseus lay there almost as if he was asleep. The aftereffects of legilimency took a toll on him. 

“Is he okay? What happened? Do you need anything?” The assistant asked.

“Just took a tumble, do not worry. May we please have a glass of water? I think my husband is too tired and nervous for all of this.” You politely said. The girl immediately nodded and headed down the stairs. When you heard the pattern of footsteps disappearing, you sighed.

“Mr. Scamander?”

“Mr. Scamander?!”

“Answer me.”

“Theseus.”

Your voice commanding is still laced with worry as he remains to catch his breath, his eyes still closed and his skin still pale. Theseus muttered a sentence, way too quiet for your ears to pick up on.

“What? Can you repeat it?” You asked leaning forward, as pinballs of sweat and the colors from his cheeks started to come back.

“I said you didn’t give me time to gather my thoughts. Yes, you would be the right person for someone… I’m not saying you aren’t. Someday a lucky bloke would be lucky to have you as their right person.” Giving you the cheeky smile once again, he opened one of his eyes to stare at your reaction.

Slapping him lightly on his arm, “This is not the time for this type of conversation.” You sighed nonetheless when he laughed. When he laughs, you have never heard a sweeter and warm sound.  His laughter made you at ease. He was fine.

“Then when? Care to join me for a cup of fire whiskey later? I think we do deserve it, after all, you now called me Theseus, I assume that I am now your friend not just an ally.” He replied cheekily. Held tilted to one side, wiggling his eyebrows for you to agree.

“When this is done, we will drink fire whiskey and gigglewater until the next morning. And I’ll make sure that you are too drunk to remember anything. Happy?” You fixed yourself and stood straight arms folded across your chest, he nodded.

“And stop getting a reaction out of me, we are in the middle of a business here. And I can’t take it seriously to see you annoyingly smiling at me.” 

“So, you’re implying that I make you distracted?”

“Yes, you are a large distraction, an annoying one. I can’t believe I made an unbreakable vow to a cheeky person like you.”

“You know you would make a great auror someday.” 

“Ha! In your dreams.” 

You didn’t realize that the stylist and her assistant walked up the stairs with refreshments and too many dresses on hand. The lady looked at the couple in front of her with a large smile plastered on her face.

“Come on my dear, we must make you the perfect bride.” She dragged you as you watched Theseus sit straight and drink the refreshment in his hand, still giddy at the thought of you breaking down the facade of seriousness when you rolled your eyes at him playfully and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Real mature.”  You said to him when you knew that he wouldn’t understand a word you muttered but with the way you said it, he knew what you meant.

You didn’t expect it; the walls that were too high to climb, too tough to break down easily crumbled under a certain auror. The absence of difficulty and pretending came naturally, it came to you as easy as breathing. Whether it is because you're bound by truth or maybe it's just the way that he is, you are uncertain. All you know is that it felt nice not to withhold the true you. 

After pretending and having fun wearing white bridal gowns, you would think you lead a normal life; the high life of having a sense of normalcy felt nice. Mr. Scamander—Theseus certainly made his company a pleasure to be with. It was hours of leisure and laughing as the cheap champagne of the non-magiques stayed on your lips; bickering among throngs of dresses as he tried to ‘fight’ a particular dress he seemed to like. The stylist and her assistant were accommodating and made sure that the two had fun, and a ‘day you won’t forget’, but they were none-the-wiser, this was all a faux relationship. Looking at bridal dresses is a certain once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, where you don't need to worry about who is behind your back and watching every move. Maybe soon, you could be like this. You would find the love of your life, experience the freedom other people have, and possibly love the way other people love. Oh, how beautiful and bright that future would be.

Walking back to the steps, back at Amour Délicat you almost feel like a schoolgirl having a crush. Your own escorts who spent their whole day almost looking for you were tired. And yet their worries were lifted when you pretended that you had been searching for them as well. And behind them Theseus has to tip-toe out of their line of sight, waving you a small goodbye and a large smile plastered on his face. It almost seemed like a secret love affair, and you giggled at the thought. As soon as you open the back doors, all you can see are the courtesans gathered around the fireplace peering at something. Gasps of amazement filled the air. Their shadows danced right by the fireplace, passing on to something with great curiosity. 

“Isn’t this expensive?”

“Do you think our lovers could get that too?”

“Ah, I’m so jealous.”

You paid no mind to them, as you walked towards the halls to your room. At the end of the hallway, Bernadette is biting on her finger with worry. 

“There you are!” Someone behind you exclaimed, Turning around they gleamed. “The beauty of the night is here.”

The courtesan immediately surrounded you, and right in front of you was the black velvet box. And inside was a necklace with far too many pearls for you to count, and those weren’t just normal non-magiques pearls, these were siren tears. Acquiring siren tears is not an easy task, banned in most countries, and to do something so inhumane to a siren is punishable by law.

“What is this?” Staring at it with disgust and annoyance. 

“What are you talking about? Just wear it, it’s yours after all.”

And right in the middle was a note, written in golden ink. Sitting innocently and untouched. Picking up the note with an apprehensive hand, you wavered. This is something your mind couldn’t see or read with the use of legilimens, you needed to see with your own eyes to understand.

‘I hope you wear it. This is merely a downpayment worth 4,000 galleons and the life of a certain English Man.’

And right on your left ring finger, a lone simple ring resides; a ring no amount of value could surpass. An engagement ring that came with love, a love from his mother to him, a ring that has seen pure love. You felt it grow cold on your finger. 

text format: “dialogue” is in French.  ‘Dialogue’  are thoughts. a/n: cant be touch starved when you hate physical touch (I am a hypocrite)

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

[scamanderishredmayniac]

I liked this one. Another one I wish had more chapters. I was getting interested. Lol!

Fantastic Beasts fanfic by: Anees Folles on ff.net

#fanfic #one shot #theseus scamander #leta lestrange #newt scamander #fantastic beasts

[valkyriepirate]

Newt Scamander x Reader One Shot- Christmas at Hogwarts

Summary:  Christmas has come and the students at Hogwarts have returned to their homes for the break. All except you, a Seventh Year Muggleborn staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. It’s Christmas Eve and you’re feeling quite lonely- that is, until your friend Newt Scamander finds you in the dining hall by the fire. Soon you realize that Christmas may be far more magical than you’d hoped. 

Warnings: Fluff overload. :)

Word count: 3.6k words 

A/N: I know I’m posting this fic wayyy after Christmas, but it’s always Newt Scamander season in my heart and I couldn’t resist. ;D

#5- Christmas at Hogwarts

The fire was your only company in all of Hogwarts that night.  

It blazed and crackled in the grate, warm and inviting as a dear friend. You scooted closer, shivering even underneath your thick coat. Your hands seemed incapable of warming up. No matter how close you held them to the fire, the warmth declined to accompany you for long. It was too painful a reminder of your family; like them, the heat pushed you away if you got too close, threatening to sear your skin. Yet too far and it felt like there was not a fire burning at all.  

You swallowed your respite. It was Christmas Eve, and Hogwarts was decorated beautifully- golden tinsel strung along the window frames, evergreen wreaths with large acorns and red bows adorning the doors, and even an enormous pine tree set up in the corner, clothed in a myriad of twinkling lights and shining ornaments. But the décor was just another reminder of how alone you were. Everyone in your House had returned home to loving families and abundant gifts for Christmas- all except you.  

You pulled your (Y/H) scarf tighter, rubbing your face with the soft cloth as you tried to thaw your freezing skin. You refused to let any tears fall. Yes, you were alone, but it was Christmas. There was solace in the good memories you had of years past, and no matter how desolate things seemed, you always felt that the magic in the air was stronger this time of year.  

You had taken to drawing miniature snowmen in the fireplace cinders with your wand when you felt it: something small and warm brushing against your leg. Startled, you looked to the side but saw nothing. Then the same sensation rubbed against your other leg. As you turned, a furry little creature poked its head out from underneath your coat. It looked like a fluffy platypus, with a pink bill, pale feet, and tiny curved claws.  

“Well hello, little fella,” you said, scooping the creature into your hands. It was incredibly soft. “Where did you come from?”

The creature purred as you stroked it tenderly, gazing up at you with shimmering black eyes. You laughed in delight as it scurried up your arm and snuggled between your scarf and your neck.

“Cold, are you?” You tucked in both ends of your scarf, creating a scooped blanket for the creature. “There. Is that better?”

It nuzzled into your neck and you laughed again as its fur tickled you. It was possible it escaped from one of the classrooms, but you didn’t feel the need to return it anywhere- at least, not for now. You felt the weight on your heart begin to lessen. Maybe you wouldn’t be so alone on Christmas Eve after all.  

“Teddy?”

You craned your head around at the familiar voice. You hadn’t heard anyone enter the main hall- in fact, you had been sure you were the only one left in the whole building. As you wondered who it could be, a boy with a swath of ruddy hair emerged from the hall.

“Teddy? Don’t be a scoundrel. I better not catch you stealing any-” The boy stopped when he saw you. “Oh. (Y/N). I didn’t know you were here.”

“I didn’t know you were here either, Newt,” you said, a smile creeping up your face. The presence of your longtime friend was an even greater relief to your solemnity. “What are you doing here?”

He shifted, pulling at his bright yellow Hufflepuff scarf. “I-I came to find Teddy.”

“He’s with me,” you said, patting your scarf. “But I mean, why are you here- not at home with your family? It’s Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t speak for a long time. Eventually he said, “I... may have missed the last train.”

You gaped at him, a disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. “You missed the last train? How?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes. It occurred to you that maybe he had been withheld from boarding for an unknown reason.  

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I guess it’s just nice not to be alone.” When he didn’t reply, you offered, “Want to sit with me?”

His eyebrows twitched up as if you’d given him an umbrella on a bleak rainy day. Newt was undoubtedly much different than the rest of your friends- he was so incredibly gentle and humble in a way that was rare to find in anyone else. He was always generous in his kindness, but the moment even the smallest kindness was offered him back, he was so unprepared that it almost made you want to laugh.  

He came and sat down a little ways away from you. You patted the floor next to you, beckoning him closer. “Come here. You’ll feel the fire better.”

It was impossible to tell if the redness on his cheeks was a blush or the glow of the fire. Slowly, he scooted to sit next to you.  

“He’s taken a liking to you,” he mumbled. “Teddy, I mean.”

“I think he’s taken more of a liking to my scarf. I can’t say I blame him.”

Newt smiled briefly, staring at the embers on the ground. “Nifflers may pride on materialism, but they know a pure heart when they see one.”

Something about the words warmed your insides. “Where did you find him anyway?” you asked.  

“You could say he’s a family pet.”

“Oh. Your mother keeps magical creatures, right?”

“She breeds Hippogriffs,” said Newt. “Some of the other creatures are...adopted family members.”

You gazed contentedly into the fire. “That sounds nice.”

Newt stole a glance at you, playing with the rim of his cloak. “If I may ask... why are you here, (Y/N)?”

It was your turn to run short of words. The truth was that you were a Muggleborn and your family vehemently disapproved of magic. Some of the professors at Hogwarts had hexed them for years into believing that you went to a boarding school like any other, but last year the truth got out. Your family ordered you to stop attending Hogwarts. When you refused, they said you could stay- so long as you didn’t return home.  

You still loved your family and missed them dearly. But you couldn’t deny the magic in your veins. You couldn’t leave Hogwarts behind, not when it had been your second home for so long. Not when it meant saying goodbye to the friends you had made.  

Instead of saying any of this, you gave Newt an encouraging smile and said, “I couldn’t make it home for the holidays.”

A comfortable silence passed between you two, broken only by the crack and snap of the logs in the fire. In that moment it seemed you had bonded in a way you never had before. There was something about being alone together on a holiday when you were meant to be with everyone that united your shivering hearts. You thought that if it had to be anyone here with you tonight on Christmas Eve, you were glad it was Newt Scamander.

“(Y/N)?” said Newt after a while.

“Yes?”

He seemed to be treading carefully. “How would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?”

You blinked at him before breaking into a grin. “Do you really mean it?”

“Well, only if it’s something you’d like to do-”

You laid an excited hand on his knee. “That sounds wonderful. What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Newt appeared so startled by your touch that he sat frozen in place as you jumped up and bounded down the hall. You stopped at the doors and turned back to face him. “Come on Newt, don’t be a slowpoke,” you said, a teasing tone sliding into your voice. Teddy the Niffler chittered in agreement.  

Blushing deeper, Newt pushed to his feet and followed you down the hall. “Don’t you turn against me now, Teddy.”

If it could have been possible for a Niffler to snicker, he would have. You laughed at the two of them. “Race you to the front gates!”

Newt didn’t have time to reply before you took off. Smiling to himself, he ran after you, the sounds of laughter and clicking soles on stone floors filling the lonely castle with a beautiful kind of music.  

******

The snow had been falling heavily since morning and was settled so thickly across the cobblestone pathway that you felt like you were walking on cotton candy. You were still panting and flushed with heat from your sprint throughout the castle, and the frigid air blowing your hair away from your face was more welcoming in that moment than any fire could have been. Your breaths came out like transparent white clouds as you turned around and triumphantly pumped your fists in the air. “I win!”

Newt, panting just as hard and clutching his side, nodded fervently. You wanted to giggle again at the sight of him- one pant leg rolled a bit higher than the other, his scarf tossed askew around his shoulders, his cloak hanging crookedly around his body. You had to resist an urge to ruffle his already messy hair, which was quickly becoming powdered white with snow.  

You peeked inside your scarf to check on the Niffler. “You alright in there, little buddy?”

The creature’s eyes were wide with exhilaration. He gave you a sweet kiss on the chin and you laughed as its ticklish fur caressed your skin.  

“He’d prefer to be carried all day if you let him,” Newt said, crunching across the snow to you. “Though I’d be careful. He tends to steal shiny things.”

“This little guy, a thief?” you scratched his soft belly. “That couldn’t be.”

“Have you lost anything?”

You playfully bumped him with your elbow. “Got nothing to lose. Come on, we’d better go before they douse the lanterns.”

The snow proved as deep and noncompliant as it looked from afar as you and Newt treaded along the path. Each of your steps sank down until the snow was nearly to your knees, making every few steps quite arduous work. Newt came up with the brilliant idea to magic the both of you a pair of snowshoes, and from then on the going was far easier.  

The two of you were chatting about your semesters, your midterm exams, and your plans after Hogwarts when you reached the hilltop that led down into Hogsmeade village. It looked like a Christmas town, with slanted rooftops layered with snow, light gray smoke trailing from chimneys, and sparkling green-and-red lights along the storefronts. You even spotted a few decorated Christmas trees in windows and in front of squat buildings.  

By then the cold had seeped back into your bones and left you shivering to your core. Newt, dressed similar to you, was clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. Nothing in the world seemed more appealing right then than to huddle up in one of the Hogsmeade pubs next to a fireplace, preferably with a cup of something hot. But an idea had crept into your mind.  

“What’s that?” you gasped.  

Newt furrowed his brow, searching the scene below. “What?”

“That, down there.”

“The village?”

“No, to the left of it.”

You stepped backward as he stepped forward to see. “The forest?”

“Next to the forest.”

“I’m not sure I understand-”

Newt was cut off as a huge, crude snowball hit him clean in the back with a splat! He jumped, whirling around questioningly, one hand already on his wand. Then he saw your impish grin.  

“Does this mean war?” he asked rather timidly.  

You scooped up more snow and rolled it into a ball. “This means war.”

Newt dove as you aimed the next snowball at him. He gathered one and took aim at you, though his force was poor. The snowball came just short of your feet.  

“Afraid to hit a girl, Scamander?” you teased. “I’m sure Teddy could throw harder than that.”

“I’m only afraid it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me,” he said as another of your artillery smacked him on the shoulder.  

“This should be an easy win then!”

The two of you ran down the hill, peppering each other with snowballs, dodging and rolling in the snow, the sound of your laughter sweetening the lonely night air. The ice was numbing your fingers and your sides were aching with exertion, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t had this kind of fun in a long time.  

You darted to a nearby tree to restock when a cluster of snow larger than your head exploded upon the side of your face. You looked up, mouth open, and stared in disbelief at the Hufflepuff.  

“Sorry!” Newt said quickly, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I-I didn’t realize-”

He was cut off as you whipped out your wand and, grinning from ear to ear, lifted a mountain of snow into the air above his head. With a flick you let it drop, effectively drowning him from head to toe in a small avalanche.  

He burst from the little mountain, sputtering and shaking snow out of his eyes. “You cheated,” he gasped. “Magic.”

“Whoever said there were any rules?”

You granted him a moment to pull himself out of the snow and get back on his feet. He gave you a playfully hesitant look. In the next moment, his wand was in his hand and a fleet of snowballs were soaring towards you.  

You retaliated to match, sending torrents to meet him and diverting his attacks. He’d finally begun to give the competition you were looking for.  

You slipped as he used magic to shift the snow beneath your feet, seeing that he was rolling a snowball large enough to cloak the forest. While he was distracted, you caused a ball to hit him in the back of the head, impeding his focus. In one fell swoop, you made a gust of wind knock him to his knees and destroyed the giant snowball before it could approach you. You waved your wand vivaciously and tiny snowballs about the size of chocolate frogs ambushed him from all sides.  

Newt struggled beneath the attack, but he was unable to gather his wits in the firefight. At last he shouted, “You win! You win! I surrender!”

With a swish the ambush ceased. You strode toward him, tossing your scarf over your shoulder in victory. “I win for the second time tonight, Scamander. You’re off your game.”

Newt looked like he was trying not to smile. “Consider it Christmas spirit. I’m feeling gracious.”

You reached out and dusted some of the snow from his hair. “Perhaps. Or perhaps that’s just an excuse.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned quiet. You were suddenly aware of how close you two were.  

“Well, as the winner, I should get some kind of prize, don’t you think?” you said.  

He’d been staring at the ground, avoiding prolonged eye contact as he usually did, but now his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Yes. I suppose so.”

Your heart had begun to thump erratically and you weren’t exactly sure why. It cut through your puckish bravado, stilling your thoughts and making them run wild all at once. He was close enough that you could smell the comforting scent of the fire sunk into his cloak and see the remains of snow still stuck to his eyelashes.  

Newt wasn’t looking at your eyes anymore. He was looking at your lips.  

He’s my friend, you thought. He had been for years. But if he was simply that, why were you suddenly feeling this way?

Your head leaned closer to him ever so infinitesimally. His did the same, as if compelled by some external power. Perhaps it was the magic in the air or even the spirit of Christmas, but you didn’t allow yourself to think about what you did next.  

You took him by the scarf and kissed him.  

You felt a flicker of surprise go through his body, and if you were being honest, you were surprised too. But in the next moment his stiffness melted away and he sank deeper into the kiss. One of his hands came up to cup your face ever so delicately as if you were a dream made of snow that would swirl away in an instant.  

It seemed that you two stood there for hours, yet once you pulled away it felt that less than seconds had passed. You and Newt appeared to be locked in place by each other’s gaze, breaths coming short in little white clouds. He was blushing so profoundly that his cheeks were almost as red as his hair. He took a shaky breath and leaned forward again, and you could sense the insatiable desire that had now awoken within him, how one kiss seemed to open doors to a million thoughts and longings the both of you had stored so deeply within that you hadn’t ever acknowledged it.  

Your lips had barely met for the second time when something furry barged its way in front of your face. Both you and Newt stumbled back, startled. Then you erupted into laughter.

“A jealous one, are you?” you snatched Teddy from where he’d run atop your head and poked him in the side. He warbled indignantly.  

Chuckling, you looked back up at Newt. A grin was plastered on his face that was so broad you truly believed it had the capacity to light a shooting star.  

You stepped closer to him and set Teddy on his shoulder, wrapping the Niffler up in Newt’s scarf. Your fingers lingered on his chest for a moment before you turned your eyes to the ground, feeling heat sweep your cheeks.  

“That was a pretty good reward,” you said bashfully.

“You should win more often,” mumbled Newt. You two would have probably stood there smiling at the ground like idiots for the rest of the night if Teddy hadn’t released a chirp of impatience.  

“He must be cold,” Newt bundled the Niffler underneath his cloak.  

“To the village?” you suggested.

“To the village,” he agreed.  

You two set off on the path you’d been on before, and even though it had to be nearly midnight by now, the moon and stars seemed to shine brighter, and the Christmas lights decorating Hogsmeade Village twinkled with greater joy. As you walked, you felt Newt’s hand brush yours. You slid your fingers into his and the connection sent pleasant shivers up your arm.  

You came upon a homely pub with a sign out front that read THREE BROOMSTICKS INN. Newt held the door open for you and the delicious scent of peppermint eggnog and baked frosted pastries wafted out to the street.  

Despite how quiet the street had been, the pub was bursting with customers, all huddled in groups or pairs, all sipping some heavenly hot beverage that warmed your stomach by its very smell. Deep-bellied laughter echoed off the wooden beams of the arched roof. A cozy fire crackled in the great hearth.  

You ordered two hot butterbeers and sat on the floor in front of the fire. Newt sat next to you, and as soon as he did Teddy scampered out of his scarf and into your lap.  

“Traitor,” Newt whispered, but his voice was so innocent it made you grin.  

The butterbeers came round and you wanted to bathe yourself in its warmth. As the two of you took blessedly long sips, you sighed and rested your head on Newt’s shoulder. Earlier tonight, you had been sitting and staring at a similar fire, thinking about how you’d be alone on Christmas Eve. And while all your friends and house mates would be surrounded by family tomorrow morning, opening their gifts, you knew that you had gotten the best gift of all.  

“Thank you, Newt,” you murmured.  

He blinked. “For what?”

“For being you,” you said. “For being here when no one else was.”

He was quiet for a long time. Eventually he said, “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Newt.”

The two of you sat by the fire so long that you had nearly drifted to sleep on his shoulder. The other customers were singing carols and clinking glasses, and in that moment, you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.  

The next thing you knew, Newt was gently nudging you awake. You looked up, rubbing sleep from your eyes, at a bundled, slim young man with a head of dark hair covered by a winter hat. Perhaps you were just incredibly sleepy, but he had a striking resemblance to Newt.

He knelt to get on your level. “What am I going to do with you, Newt?” He ruffled Newt’s hair. “Missed the train? Really?”

Newt just smiled. “You came back for me?”

“I can’t very well leave you here for Christmas, can I?” The young man turned his eyes to you. “I’m Theseus. Newt’s brother.”

“(Y/N),” you said.  

Theseus looked between you and Newt, a sly grin creeping up his face. “Would you like to come with us?” he asked.  

“Come with you? Where?”

“Home,” Theseus said simply.  

You glanced at Newt. He was staring at your lips again. He looked up to meet your eyes. “Please,” he said quietly.  

You thought you might melt into a frosty puddle right there on the floor. “I would love that. Very much.”  

“Alright then.” Theseus offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. He patted his brother’s shoulder. “Left in Hogwarts on Christmas. Just like my brother. Shall we?”

You slung your arm around Newt’s. “We shall.”

Masterlist

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x reader one shot #newt scamander x reader fluff #newt scamander christmas #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawft #newt scamander fluff #reader insert #theseus scamander

[rowniebow]

A newt x male reader, maybe a fic or headcannons different ways of how their cuddles

cuddles | newt scamander x male!reader

pairings: newt scamander x male!reader

cw: hopefully loads of fluff!

word count: 1.1k+

an: late answer to a request as always.... thank you for requesting though !!! i appreciate you so much!

⭒

newt isn't the biggest cuddler, but gosh, for you he would hold you for days.

it took him a while to warm up to it: your arms around him and your fingers between his whenever you got the chance. the first time he realized you were an established cuddler was a couple months into your official relationship after a long day of chasing after dragons.

"newt," your mumble escaped the feathers of the pillow your head was smushed into and found his ears.

he turned his head away from the sleep shirt he was about to slip over his bare torso. "yes?"

"come lay with me," your words were almost indiscernible.

"i need to go write down some stuff about the dragon's from today first-,"

"please?"

your eyelids drooped over your tired eyes. your limp limbs fell over the bed you two shared (although it seemed to be strictly yours with how little newt was in it). your arms and legs were ships in the sea of blankets. and your sonorous raspy plead wouldn't let him deny you.

he slipped the sleep shirt on and slowly made his way towards you.

you turned on to your back, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to lay with you. newt stiffly laid where he had fallen. he laid his head on your slow rising chest. his legs tangled themselves between yours. his hands balled themselves into fists and sat at his side.

"relax, sweets." the whisper left a smile on your lips. "i won't bite, i promise."

you arms wrapped around him. your left thumb ran through the canyon of his spine. your right hand snuck it's way over his tense hand. you massaged relaxation out of it and held his hand comfortably firm as to refuse him to let go.

newt only blinked at the blurry folds of your clothes that were so near to his eyes. he could practically see the individual threads and their journey throughout your clothes.

his eyes traveled up to your smiling features. you appeared to be the most relaxed he had ever seen you. no clenched jaw or squeezed eyes or scrunched eyebrows. only a soft grin and naturally falling lids that melted him.

he finally let out a breath he had been holding and did his best to relax his tight muscles. he wrapped his free arm around your waist. his hand found warm comfort under your torso. your heart beat bounced slowly in his ear. exhaustion seemed to roll over him like a wave as you pulled the blankets over you two.

you were aware that newt wasn't the fondest of hugs and snuggles, so you denied yourself whenever you had the urge to pull him into your arms and whisper comforting things in his ears.

however, the longer you two spent time together, the more often you indulged yourself.

it was a lot of little things at first.

coming into newt's workspace while he was working after a day of you two being apart. you would wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek and the crook of his neck.

he would always be startled initially. he'd be stiff and sit as straight as possible. but after a glance at your tired smile he would relax his shoulders. "hello," his greeting would be quiet and raspy from working for so long and not talking to anyone.

"hi," your smile would leak through the vowel and infect his hypothalamus. the warmth of your words would brush over the hairs on his neck and make them stand as straight as he sat.

and the more you indulged yourself and he saw how happy it made you, the more he was tempted to enjoy it and initiate.

it would be the smallest of actions. ones that most wouldn't think twice about. but knowing newt so well, these "small" actions were giant leaps that brought warmth to your cheeks every time.

you would be sitting at the table, eating a bowl of oatmeal that had been drenched in brown sugar and berries. your eyes would be trained on the words and moving pictures on the daily prophet from that morning.

newt would come out from the hallway, rushing around to find his things before heading off to work or to search for a creature last minute.

getting up to wash your dish, he would stop you, wrapping a single arm around you (his other hand was full of his case and coat and dozens of other things he'd need in the day), wishing you good bye and a good day at work. a drunken-on-dopamine smile would sew itself into your features at the action as he rushed out the door.

and he always, always held you when you were down. he soon found it to be the only thing that really calmed you down.

he'd find you with a crease between your brow, shoulders as high as they physically could be, and tear stained skin.

he'd linger for a moment, taking in your distraught figure. "what - what happened?"

your sobs of nothing but random incoherent syllables smashed together would throw the option of words out the window, bringing him to wrap his arms around you and sit while you cried into his shoulder.

your arms would eventually make their way up the mountain of his body and make themselves comfortable on the cliff of his hips.

he holds you tight as your heart beat slowly calms and your gasp return to small hiccups. he would drag (practically carry) you over to your shared bed. his fingers would fly through your hair and his thumb would rub circles into your skin. he would lay with you until sleep finally found you and gave you the much needed rest you deserved.

regardless of his reactions and his general discomfort with physical touch, newt finds warmth and comfort in your touch specifically. despite his ever stiffening muscles, he loves when you brush his cheeks with your fingertips or subconsciously drew shapes into his forearms.

and he loves being able to find the confidence to hold you, which is a rare occasion for him. you love holding him and he loves being held by you.

but the moments where he can have an arm around your shoulder or waist were his special pleasures. times when you rested your head on his chest and let your eyes fall shut to the sound of his heart stuck out to him the most because of the rarity.

and you had to admit, you loved them a bit more as well.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@djmalik52 @garlicforthewin @armand0alg0 names that would not come up are bolded

#newt scamander #newt scamander fic #newt scamander oneshot #newt scamander headcanon #newt scamander one shot #newt scamander x male!reader #newt scamander x male reader #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x y/n #fantastic beasts and where to find them #wizarding world #newt x male!reader #newt scamander fluff #fantastic beasts #crimes of grindelwald #newt scamander cuddles #cuddles #fluff #hugs #comfort #hurt comfort #little bit of hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #newton scamander #newton scamander x reader #newton scamander x male!reader

[we-are-an-anti-deity]

Newt Scamander One Shot OC!Fem!xNewt

Newt invites the third Goldstien sister to meet his "Fantastic Friends."

Her free hand found its way into Frank’s feathers. A light smile splayed on her features. Her bangs still hid most of her face, yet Newt inhaled slightly at the sight. Surely surprised the wary Thunderbird had let a stranger so close to him and was comfortable eating out of their hand; the better surprise was realizing he hadn’t seen her smile. Even with her sisters, they smiled even when it was faked. But Ara, never even hinted at an expression. Neutral he noted. As the sun shined on her, it seemed to glimmer gold on her black hair. Newt released the breath he was holding. 

A few thoughts made their way into his mind, yet no words he could manage to say when she looked over to him. “I-um-you-y-do you want to see the others?” She nodded, her fluffy hair bobbing.

He turned around, quietly kicking himself for not mentioning how beautiful she was, breathtakingly beautiful. Instead he gave her a bucket and guided her to the mooncalves. He watched her throw the food in the air and turned around, but tripped when she let out a giggle. At this, she laughed loudly and covered her mouth with her hand. He sat up, she looked like she was going to burst. Her cheeks were red with holding it in. He felt paws on his shoulder; Teddy had found his pocket watch again and before he realized it he was laughing too. Ara gave him a hand getting up before going back to the Mooncalves. They surrounded her with their big eyes. She smiled and continued to feed them. In this moment, he made it a goal to make her laugh when he could. And laughed she did. 

“All your fantastic friends” she said. It was the most she’d ever spoken in his presence. At one point she even tied up her hair to help with the Occamy’s. Though, her bangs continued to cover her eyes.

When they finally emerged, it was well into the evening. They had spent almost the entire day caring for the creatures in his case. He had learned a little more about the timid Goldstien sister. She liked to read. She worked for the local wizarding newspaper. The most important one, to him, was she loved animals. Magical or Non-Magical she was comfortable with them. More than people and he felt comfortable with her. Something he rarely can say for anyone. 

When dinner rolled around, everyone except the two seemed to notice something different. Jacob was smiling more and looking between Newt and Ara. The sisters definitely noticed their sister had relaxed a great deal more. The way Newt had stolen a few glances at her with a smile and she had actually smiled back. The three looked at each other and silently agreed not to say anything to ruin it. Letting them have their silence while eating.

#fb1 #fbwtft #fbwtf #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #newt #scamander #newtxoc #newt scamander x oc #one shot #fanfic #writers on tumblr #look this is my first one shot i'm posting #please enjoy

[not-quite-normal]

How difficult was Miguel to animate? I read somewhere that he is 6’9 and over 300 pounds haha what a beast. Were there any specific things to take note of when it came to animating him? It’s insane how through his movements he just exudes power and strength. Even the way he walks just makes him seem like a guy not to messed with. Did his frame hinder anything in animation that would not occur on the smaller models?

miguel was SUPER FUN i loved animating him!! i feel like a lot of 3D animation defaults to super skinny characters that are basically just tubes, so it's fun to work with a character that lets you design the shapes into something more graphic

we had to think a lot about how someone that big moved, but also how they carry themselves when just standing and talking. we referenced idris elba:

when a person has very well defined and built up chest muscles, their shoulders tend to be pulled forward. i did some posture tests early on to help out with finding a good slumped but still powerful, natural standing pose

a lot of tweaking had to be done too whenever he was doing any kind of dynamic action because of how defined his muscles are, extreme poses tended to get off model pretty quickly. here's an example with one of the shots that i animated, i tried to recreate what his model looked like without any shaping adjustments:

i wanna give a special shout out to eric de carolis, who animated a lot of fantastic miguel swagger, he really helped set the bar for how we should handle miguel's massive everything when walking. he animated this shot:

so, yes! there was a lot that went into finding his character through movement and it's always a challenge to animate subtleties on someone this big while still making them feel heavy

#asks #anonymous #spiderverse #animation question

[its-vannah]

Confessions | Part Five | Theseus Scamander x Reader

A/N: This is it, loves! Honestly, this series was so fun to write. It was short and sweet, and that's how I had envisioned it. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Key:

Y/es/n - Your eldest son's name

Y/ys/n - Your youngest son's name

Y/d/n - Your daughter's name

Y/gs/n - Your grandson's name

Y/gd/n - Your granddaughter's name

S/w/n - Son's wife's name

Confessions: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

You and Theseus approached the maternity wing in St. Mungo's, eager to see your firstborn grandchild.

Your oldest son, y/s/n, led to you his wife's room, eager for you to meet his baby. Or rather, babies.

It was a shock to both you and Theseus when y/s/n had chosen to elope with his wife instead of have a traditional wedding. It was even more of a shock when three years later, they shared they were expecting a baby. Who was due in two and a half months.

Although Theseus was initially upset that they kept the pregnancy from the two of you for so long, you managed to calm him down with biscuits and tea, reminding him that they were grown adults who made their own decisions.

So when Theseus walked in and laid eyes on his grandchildren, a bit and a girl, he couldn't hold back the tears.

"They're going to be just as strong as their mum and dad, aren't they?" He cooed as he took his granddaughter into his arms, rocking her gently back and forth while you cradled your grandson.

Your son's wife, s/w/n, smiled as she watched the two of you with them, "They favor the two of you quite a bit, don't they? Then again, y/s/n is a pretty even mix of the both of you. Or at least I think so. Which is why we've decided to incorporate you guys into their names."

Theseus shot his head up, "I don't understand..."

"My parents died when I was very young, and you guys practically raised me when I was a child. Without you guys, I wouldn't have met this fool," She teased, looking up at your oldest son, then back at the twins, "Guys, this is y/gs/n Theseus Scamander and y/gd/n y/n Scamander."

Your heart melted upon hearing their names, and you smiled down at the twins, "Oh, s/w/n... You've made my whole year."

Theseus tried to control his tears, but it was useless, "I'm honored, truly. Thank you."

They nodded and you all enjoyed it the silence for a moment until the door burst open, your second born son and daughter bursting in wearing large grins.

Y/e/s/n glared at them, "Quiet down you two, they're asleep."

Y/d/n's jaw dropped, "They?"

As your children started rambling about the secrecy of the pregnancy, you rest your head against Theseus's shoulder.

"Darling, I think it's my turn to confess." You said in a hushed tone as he met your gaze, "I just fell in love all over again."

Pressing a kiss to your head, you and Theseus nestled into each other, smiling at your children, and now, grandchildren.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter imagines #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x y/n #theseus x reader #theseus-scamander #theseus scamander one shot #theseus scamander x you #theseusscamander #fbsod #fbwtft #fbcog #fbatcog #fantastic beasts fic #fantastic beasts oneshots #fantastic beasts imagines #fantastic beasts #callum turner