funkzpiel:

coffeesugarcream:

Tell me about it!

I’m suspending my judgment till I see the thing, of course – but I’m ninety percent positive I’ll crawl out of the theater crying and clutching fanno Theseus to my chest. It’s more a fact of characterization for me than anything else – it kind of looks like they’d make Theseus a polished, smirky, flippant dandy who looks down on his bright little brother and probably stole (or was stolen by) said brother’s first love. It calls on a lot of tropes I’m not a fan of (especially the Brothers Compromising Their Bond Over the Girl one, which has been presented in countless movies and shows from my childhood as the top girly fantasy and always made me nothing but uncomfortable and angry).

So…. I think I’ll enjoy writing some stuff with Canon! Theseus, too – some Angsty bitter Thesival, too – but… My Theseus, the way I envision him when I make up stories before sleep, the way I made him and carved him out these months, is a different creature. He’s scruffy, rough around the edges, easy to smile and laugh and love – hiding sharp observation skills and a quicksilver intelligence beyond his goofy jokes and affable Good Boy warmth.

He’s loyal, desperately so – generous with his affection and the people he gives his heart to despite knowing what a dangerous game that it is. He loves his brother, fiercely, and is as proud of him as he’s worried sick whenever he’s lost in the Amazonian Forest or not sending letters for months as he chases dragons around the Carpatians.

He lives alone, and works alone, and enjoys the freedom of peeling off clothes in the middle of the room and basking in his chaos and blaring music at three a. m. as he pours over the reports he should have checked during the day – but sometimes he catches himself staring at a passing buggy and feels a tug under his ribs, an ache for chubby cheeks and Sunday family breakfasts with pancakes and dark tea and his arms closing around a lover’s waist for more than a couple nights.

(Of course, my Theseus usually dreams of a lover with dark eyes and the scent of cologne clinging to his clothes, and sometimes looks up from under the rim of his umbrella and wonders if it’s raining in New York, too, and tlles himself one day he’ll do it, he’ll storm through a Portkey and slams his office’s door open with a ring in his hands and he will-)

My Theseus is a sweet mountain of strength. He’s tall, very tall, and broad-shouldered, with corded muscles and the tanned skin of someone who spends a lot of time outside. He’s got a scattering of freckles and a set of adorable dimples, softening the menace of strong bones, of his towering wrestler-built presence. Sometimes he grows a beard, sometimes he doesn’t; he’s a real authentic gentleman, but he can’t match tie and coat if his life depends on it. He’s charming, but he’s never honed that charisma into a blade the way Percival did. He’s human. He’s brave, quirky, occasionally fierce, never cruel. He’s kind, above all, and devoted to goodness and light in the quiet, practical way of people actually making the difference. He’s got the rare gift of pulling people toward light, too – of making them want to save themselves.

(My Percival knows it. My Percival sighs with relief every time Theseus Scamander holds him, and he prescribes himself large doses of Theseus’s presence, like a medicine, to thaw his coldness and keep his dark boredom at bay. Even after Grindelwald. Especially after Grindelwald.

Remind me of the good things, Scamander. Please, remind me why we fight.

And Theseus does, always.)

So, that’s my Theseus. He’s flawed, he’s human – but he’s not a chauvinist, not blind, not too proud to see what’s right. He’s the summer-y sun to Percival’s pensive winter, a moral compass who loves wandering off the path now and then, just for the hell of it. And he will always have my love.

@coffeesugarcream bless you and your beautiful Theseus. 😍

Whenever I write Theseus you can count on the fact that I have Fassbender/Fanon!Thes in mind.