Newt Scamander Preferences

The Truth

Disclaimer: Please don't read this if you are triggered by mentions of rape and assault. Remember that you did not deserve it. Anything other than yes is not consent. I'm so sorry. You are not alone. I believe you.


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"There's something I need to tell you but," they paused, looking away from the sparse ocean of dark wood. Though not far, it felt as if he was miles away...almost unreachable but the space- the room to breath, to let the words flow into the air freely- was much needed. If he were in such close proximity, then the truth would die upon their lips. Murdered by broken sobs that would crack ribs as they escaped from the marred body, the body in which was about to be discussed. "but it's difficult for me to do so because I know, as soon as I do, it'll make things real for me and I wish..." tears spilled down their cheeks, falling fast and free. Unabandoned and unashamed, as they soaked the shirt collar, darkening the fabric.

"You don't need to tell-" he began to interrupt but was hastily hushed by a single raising of the hand, as they signalled that they wished to proceed with the explanation. It was so long overdue.

The pain, the anger, the memories- all harboured for far too long. Burrowed within a once kind heart, that over time had slowly started to decay. Sealed away from the rest of the world within a shallow grave.

It was time to wipe away the dirty, to wash away the uncleanliness that was not their own cause, but anothers. A heart could eventually become healed but only if they had the bravery to take the first step.

That was how they had ended up sat before him, their friend, the one they had spent so many hours reciting stories to, most in which he was a hero, a hopeless romantic, an escapism away from the unwanted nightmares. He would understand.

He always did.

He continued to regard them carefully, trying to keep his expression neutral, even though it broke his heart to see them struggle to talk to him. Usually the characters bled across the page so freely but this time, they faltered. Drip, drip, dropped like their tears.

Letters meekly added to a growing paragraph and yet, though the word count grew, the reasoning for the difficulty to write remained a mystery to him.

The bare room, with it's mahogany table and shut bay windows, despite its generous space felt suffocating. Sunlight poured into the room, filling it with warmthless light. The endless poppy fields beyond the glass swayed in the fabricated breeze, neither cool or refreshing.

Nothing meaningful could be said here in that artificial setting. It needed to be somewhere safer, familiar for both him and them.

Glancing from them to the disclaimer that hung like a chandelier above his head, tge words to far away for him to decipher. He could take it no longer. "We need to leave." his voice low, a pleading whisper. "Take us somewhere, anywhere else and I will still listen to you, I will always listen but not here, not in this stifling place where creativity comes to die."

And just like that, the room melted away to darkness and then, the sound of a barista taking an order filled his ears. "Two sugars?"

They remained sat before one another but instead within the confines of a coffee shop.

Beyond their hunched form, the male spied upon Sebastian leaving a note for Valerian, as scene which had occured in their very first fanfiction.

To his right, he observed Newt Scamander bicker with (y/n), as the reader attempted to brew a potion. While a certain Professor placed bets with other students about (y/n) and Newt's inevitable romance.

Just beyond the new window, he watched nostalgically, as Pietro Maximoff approached a voiceless and weeping Arrabella, as she remained sat on an aged swing set.

"This is your past." he muttered to himself, pleased with their new surroundings.

Fixing his calm and reassuring gaze upon them once more, he mustered a small smile. "This is your first step to move on from it. You're ready. I know you are. You need to be brave but you can do this. You're not alone. I'm here. I'm always here for you, whenever you need me. You know that but you need to do this for yourself."

The cursor continued to blink, expectant of further usage.

"You can do this, you know you can. Be strong." he urged them on.

Running away from the problem was only a temporary solution. There were no words left to spare, only the ones that aided their gospel.

"I wish I didn't need to tell you this but if I don't, then- like you said- I'll never be able to move on. I'll forever be stuck in that moment, that repeats over and over again my mind. My own personal horror movie, that's stuck on an infinite loop. Day and night, no matter the hour, it plays."

He paused with bated breath.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The single sentence, which had been avoided for far too long was finally typed onto the page. What the author would write next would be yet another story to tell, only this time there would be no fiction, only the truth.


My name is UGottaLoveDraco and I was raped.