fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #2

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Prompt Post #2

ROUND 2

Seeing as we've reached 4,000 comments in Round 1, it's time to make a new one. Same (lack of) rules apply. Gentle reminder to everyone to refrain from posting extremely long prompts, though. While no word limit will be imposed, take note that it is very unlikely for someone to fulfill your prompt if your prompt alone is already several paragraphs long and containing a number of specifications.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
-(01/14/2016) We now have a TRADING POST where you can exchange fills with people.
-The prompt freeze is over! You may resume posting prompts. The next freeze is scheduled on February 8, 12:00 AM (PST) or if this round reaches 4,000 comments; whichever comes first.
-Due to popular demand, we now have our first couple of rules!
RULE #1: No prompt must exceed 250 words. Any prompt that exceeds that WILL be screened.
RULE #2: Please state RPF in the subject line if your prompt involves real people.
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warnings for this chapter: somewhat graphic bone resetting & shoulder relocation
(author!anon has a very limited knowledge of 1920s muggle/wizard medicine, but is doing her best to make this shit work)

The pain jolts Percival unceremoniously awake, his spluttered curses muffled by the rag stuffed haphazardly in his mouth.

The first thing he notices besides the rag and the pain is the boy crouching in front of him, both hands braced firmly against Percival’s throbbing shoulder. His gaze meets Percival’s for a split second, eyes wide and startled, before dropping back away.

The second is the brush of the cell’s chill air against his bare skin.
Percival’s ragged shirt’s been removed, and the top half of his union suit has been unbuttoned and rolled back to expose his shoulder.

It takes his pain- and sleep-addled mind a moment to realize that the boy’s relocated his shoulder. Percival gives it a small, experimental roll against the pressure of the boy’s grip: it smarts, but rotates smoothly.

The rag isn’t tied into his mouth, and he spits it out onto the ground, swallowing convulsively against the dry, stinging feeling in his throat.

“Thanks,” he says hoarsely. His manacles are still on, so this little episode is much more likely a prelude to future tortures than the rescue dream he’d supposed. Still, it feels good to have the use of both arms again.

"I was hoping you'd stay asleep," the boy says quietly after a moment, his eyes once again fixed firmly on the floor. “The next part will be worse.”

Percival follows his gaze down to his bloodies legs, and shudders despite himself, knowing what’s coming. If the boy’s not adept enough at Healing charms to fix his arm magically, there’s absolutely no chance that what happens next is going to be even remotely painless.

The boy’s next words are all the confirmation he needs.

“They’ve already started to mend, but they’re healing wrong. I’ll h-have to break them again before I set them properly.”

(Under his breath, Percival curses Merlin every possible way he can think of.)

Although he seems resolutely set on not meeting Percival’s eyes, the boy is still doing his best to be reassuring. “Don’t worry; I’m not a doctor, but I’ve done this before. I’ll make sure they’re put right.

Percival doesn’t know why he’s bothering; it’s not as though he can refuse treatment, after all. Perhaps this is another one of Grindelwald’s ploys: get the boy to endear himself to Percival, and then it will hurt all the more when… well. Whatever happens next, it’s not likely to be pleasant.

“You should bite down on this again,” the boy says, picking the rag up from where it’d fallen.

Percival nods reluctantly. The prospect of having the wretched thing back in his mouth isn’t pleasant; still, the thought of biting his own tongue off during a moment of sheer, excruciating pain is worse.

Once the rag is back in place, the boy crawls over to sit at the bottom of Percival’s ruined legs. Long, pale fingers probe the length of his left calf until they find the break, and Percival hisses in anticipation as the boy brackets it with his hands - one above, one below.

“Bite down,” he says quietly. Percival obeys as the boy pushes until there’s a sharp crack.

Percival’s screams are muffled through the rag, but tears drip down his cheeks as the boy rotates the bone into a semblance of its proper position and splints it tightly with a short wooden beam.

If the second leg is slightly better, it’s only because Percival is distracted by the excruciating pain of the first. The boy wraps it like the other before moving back up to Percival’s side, cooing soothingly as he wipes the tear tracks away.

“Why are you doing this,” Percival asks hoarsely, once he’s gathered himself to spit the gag out again.

The boy ignores the question, turning to pick up a thin, skull-topped bottle from his side.

“This will help with your - with those, I think,” he says quietly, waving a hand towards Percival’s sternum. “The packaging says to drink a capful.”

The boy pours the potion out with careful hands before leaning forwards to tip the cap up to Percival’s cracked lips. Percival swallows dutifully, grimacing slightly at the taste.

It burns going down, of course; Skele-Gro is never a particularly pleasant sensation. He’s just opening his mouth to ask for another sip of water when a sharp knock at the cell door makes the boy’s head jerk around.

The boy collects the rag and the Skele-Gro bottle as he stands up. He shoots one inscrutable glance back at Percival before striding towards the door, movements quick and mechanical.

“You’d better get some sleep.”The boy’s voice is tense; ominous. “You’ll need it.”

The Cruciatus curse screams fiery agony across his skin, but Percival holds himself as still as possible against the ground, biting his lip bloody so that no weak, pained groans can escape him. He always resists a bit harder when Grindelwald is watching, spitefully unwilling to let the man see him break.

The man is crouched over Percival’s shaking form at the moment, pale eyes watching his torment with shining, avid amusement.

“You’re quite resilient, aren’t you?” he asks rhetorically, running one gloved hand through Percival’s tangle of sweat-and-blood-matted hair.

“Fuck you,” he grits out, straining against the invisible force that holds him down, keeping him from rushing the Dark wizard and cursing his fucking brains out.

“Yes, so you’ve said. Repeatedly.” The Dark wizard’s voice is dry, amused. Percival can’t remember ever having hated anything more in his life.

After a long moment, Grindelwald lowers his hand, and the curse fizzles out unceremoniously.

Percival tenses himself for the next round, but all he gets is a light, mocking hand swept across his sweating brow.

“You look exhausted,” Grindelwald croons, voice a parody of sympathy. “Tell me, when did I feed you last, Percival? I can’t have you keeling over before I’ve wrenched out all your secrets, after all.”

Rather than answering, Percival spits. Childish, maybe, but his lips still curl in satisfaction at the gob of red saliva running down his own perfectly-polished shoes.

Somewhat disappointingly, Grindelwald doesn’t rise to the occasion. He Vanishes the spit with a dismissive flick of his wrist before straightening up and striding off to elsewhere in the apartment, whistling cheerfully as he goes.

When he comes back to Percival’s spot on the living-room floor, Grindelwald’s carrying a small, steaming bowl of watery oatmeal. He sets it down by Percival’s face and retreats to his customary vantage point on the sofa; once he’s settled, Grindelwald releases the spell which binds Percival’s arms and torso to the floor.

Percival dips a finger into the bowl and puts it to his tongue cautiously, stubbornly ignoring Grindelwald’s unnerving gaze as he does. There’s an odd taste to it, but it’s not Veritaserum or any other potion Percival knows, so he scarfs the food down anyways. If it’s poisoned, so be it; Grindelwald’s denied him food long enough that he won’t last much longer without, poison or no poison.

Although he refuses to look, Percival’s achingly conscious of the Dark wizard’s eyes on him as he eats, silent and intense. Still, he pays it as little mind as he can.

So the bastard’s up to some odious new trick; he’ll deal with it, like he has with all the others.

For now, though, he’ll concentrate on getting his strength up for what’s to come.

fill title is from 'changes' by david bowie, because i am literally the worst & most cliché writer in all of creation ( ；´Д｀)

I wrote a fill which can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9671081

I hope you like it!

Please someone write this!!!

Epic.

So Credence ends up with Newt all cured and shit but he's become desperately attached to the safety of the suitcase and doesn't want to leave. Newt tries to coax him out but when he promises to do anything Newt gives him a hurt medium sized creature to care for to help him gain confidence. Credence takes this very seriously and when the beast gets horny he lets if fuck him thinking it's part of his duty. For whatever reason other male beasts start taking an interest in Credence and he ends up there willing eager slut.

Newt could have had good intentions and not realize what's happening or he gave that beast knowing what would happen and deciding to use Credence for relic for the animals.

I love this fic so much, a great update, and ouch poor Percival! but it's sweet how Credence is trying to make things easier for him. I hope they talk more soon

Oh Percival... fantastic start! I like how full of fight he still is

Ohhh this is wonderful, anon. *.* It is the finest Percy!whump on the entire meme. ILU. (I know I keep saying that but IT TRUE. *.*)

OP here! - HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING. I eagerly await your next update and to see what you do with the prompt. Lovely start, absolutely delicious. Bless you!

thanks! i'm really glad you enjoyed it so far

expect an update the next time i'm bored and drunk (so, definitely by tuesday)
(￣ω￣;)

Percival was lying in bed, his back pressed up against the wall, wand tucked beneath his pillow. He had struggled to sleep for the first few hours, mind full of thoughts of Grindelwald, of why he had chosen to give him Credence. He needed to get the other man to a legilimens, ensure that he wasn’t some kind of trap. He could feel Grindelwald’s curses ripping through him when he closed his eyes.

But the Director of Magical Security for MACUSA needed to be at the top of his game, and that meant he needed to rest. He would have to sleep. He couldn’t let himself get tired, because it would mean he thought slower, moved slower. Even when he had been imprisoned he had kept up a certain routine, exercising while Grindelwald was working, and then making himself sleep. He could hardly allow the routine to slip now that he was free, just because there was someone else in the house. This was his home. He couldn’t let Grindelwald taint it, either by his own actions or by this parting gift.

He slept, not because he wanted to but because he had to. His mind was filled with dreams of his aurors lying bleeding and broken, with Grindelwald wearing his face to destroy the world, to witnessing him choking the life from Seraphina. He didn’t scream. But he didn’t take a sleeping draught either. The thought of being too deeply into sleep was unbearable. He had to be able to wake up again. He lay on top of the covers, unable to stand their weight on him. It felt too much like being trapped, being pinned down again and unable to defend himself as his memories and secrets were torn away.

So he got what rest he could, when the nightmares weren’t so terrible that they woke him, and hoped it would be enough to keep him going for a little longer. He couldn’t let his aurors know he was struggling. If they thought he was weak, they might try and say something to the President, to force him to have more time off. Percival couldn’t think of anything worse.

He didn’t wake immediately as a weight joined him on the bed. Even he could only last a short time without sleep, and he was deep enough in unconsciousness to not notice as his pants were carefully slid down, his underwear unbuttoned. He began to wake at the sensation of hot breath against his cock, a shy tongue brushing over the tip. He could hear Grindelwald’s laughter in his mind, telling him that he knew he had unnatural desires, wondering if he was so repressed that he had never given into them. Grindelwald had never made good on those threats, but that seemed to be changing now. A slight flex of his wrist proved to him that for the moment, the bindings had been released.

He kicked out and brought up his fist in the same motion, slamming into the face of the man who was assaulting him. He threw out his magic, pushing the other figure away from him and against the wall, and sat up in bed, one hand keeping the man pressed to the far wall as the other reached for his wand. He wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening, heart racing. He gulped for air.

The room around him slowly came into focus, lit both by the light filtering through the curtain and the fire in his living room. The No-Maj boy was pinned to the wall by Percival’s magic, gasping and squirming, eyes wide in silent terror, as though he had seen the devil himself. Percival glanced down, seeing that his underwear had been undone. He fumbled to close it again. Adrenaline coursed through him but he tried to reconstruct what had happened.

The young man, Credence, had climbed into his bed. He had tried to pleasure him, and Percival had lashed out. Realising that, he dropped his magic, and saw Credence fall to the floor, panting for air. He tried to ignore the way the boy’s hand flicked in a movement he had seen before from No-Majs when things happened they couldn’t understand.
“Credence?”
“Mister Graves?” The young man asked nervously, blinking back tears. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t think you should do that again…” Percival answered, getting to his feet. He walked over towards Credence, studying the way the skin was reddening. His nose was broken. Percival sighed, reaching out and pointing his wand towards Credence’s face.

“Episkey.” Credence flinched away, but Percival watched as his nose reshaped. Credence’s hand darted up to touch the healed injury.
“How-?” Credence gasped, and Percival shook his head, walking over to the bathroom and picking up a tube of bruise removal paste.
“Credence...” Percival said softly. “You can’t sneak up on me like that.”

***

“I’m sorry.” Credence whispered, shivering as Mister Graves smoothed the yellow gunk over where he had been punched. He was still trying to gasp for air, remembering how he had been trapped against the wall. He looked at his husband nervously, his head bowed. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be thrown out from this place. He was confused, uncertain. “Ma…Ma said that was how you wanted me to wake you. Did… did I do it wrong?”

“Not wrong.” Mister Graves said. “I just don’t want to be woken like that. Not now. Not…” He shook his head, and Credence felt his face heat up.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” His husband said firmly, dropping his hand from Credence’s cheek. “Is there any other injury?”
“No.” Credence admitted. “You… you fixed it.”

“There’s a lot I need to tell you.” His husband admitted.
Credence shook his head minutely.
“You… you helped me.” He murmured, ashamed. “Even though I… I messed up.”
“You still deserve to get healed.” Mister Graves answered after a moment. “Just because you make a mistake doesn’t mean that you should get hurt for it.”

That was harder for Credence to believe than the way Mister Graves had fixed his nose. He’d failed his husband again.
“I need to go to work.” Mister Graves answered. “We can talk… we will talk when I get back.”
“I…” Credence swallowed, and looked up at him. “I made you lunch.” He walked from the bedroom, picking up the meal he had prepared. “I could make breakfast if you… if you would like?”

“Not now Credence.” His husband said quickly. “I have to go to work. Make breakfast for yourself. Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t leave the house today, do you understand? Not until we’ve talked.”
“Yes sir.”

His husband smiled.
“Thank you for the lunch Credence.” He walked out of the door, and Credence saw the bolts slide home. He was locked in. He knew his husband had thrown him against the wall. He knew the fire hadn’t burned down. He knew his husband had healed his nose.

He didn’t know what his husband was, but he knew he was still married to him, that he would stand by his side. His husband was showing him kindness, even after Credence had made a mistake with waking him up. He went to make himself breakfast like Mister Graves had said.

He was locked in the house, with nothing to do but wait and try to find a way to solve his mistakes. He went to the bathroom, observing his face in the mirror. The bruise was already fading.

Grindelwald lovingly shaving Graves's genitals with a straight razor, then putting him in the softest women's panties he could find.

And then fucking him through a hole he tears in the back.

noooo don't eat the drugged food Graves!! (ignore what I said, I'm here for Grindelwald being evil as af to Graves >:D)

fabulous start, I am rubbing my hands in glee

So sex toys including (at the very least) dildos, strap-ons and vibrators were around in the No-Maj world in the Roaring Twenties, if not mainstream, and I gotta figure that wizards would have some interesting variations. I would like to see Tina engaging in enthusiastic, consensual het sex with magic toys of any kind, used on/for either partner. Don't mind if it's just for added fun or if it's a workaround because of peen problems or aversion to penetration or whatever. Tina/Percival or Tina/Newt, or Tina/Percival/Newt. Please no femsub.

There is a little-known bylaw that if the President of MACUSA is in any way incapacitated/unable to fulfill their duty, that the Director for Magical Law Enforcement shall serve as President until the situation is resolved.

The international magical community is Not Happy with how President Picquery handled the Obscurus situation. (Particularly the Ministry of Magic; Grindelwald or not, MACUSA tried to execute a BRITISH CITIZEN).

Thus, Percival Graves - rescued from his imprisonment, fresh from his hospital stay - is informed that he is now Acting President as Picquery is under investigation.

Percival was a Powerful Jedi Master whose was killed by a Sith Lord named Grindelwald.

Newt has always held a great admiration for the Jedi Master, even if it was only from afar. Percival’s death is a devastating blow and causes him to leave the Jedi Order all together. He travels the stars to find his own path; finding new friends, a new lightsaber,new purpose,and helping those in need.

Eventually Newt finds a peaceful life surrounded by nature and all manner of beasts.

That is until his former master Albus messages a warning, of a powerful and deranged Sith whose been causing terror in some star systems. The mysterious Sith has taken to torture or killing numerous Jedi that didn't give him what he wanted, information, about a former Jedi apprentice…. Newt Scamander.

Newts new saber is white, like Ashoka Tano, signifying he is not associated with the Jedi Order.

I was imagining the part where Snape was cradling Lily’s body but replaced them with Percival or Theseus with Newt.

Percival or Theseus (maybe both?) joined the wrong crowd and became Grindelwald’s supporters. The incident in New York happens, Newt is now on Grindelwald’s shit list and marked for death. Percy/Theseus panic and make a deal with the boss to spare Newt’s life.

Of course Newt still gets killed anyway.

Maybe Newt sacrificed himself to protect another like Lily did with Harry, but what is assured, is that he refused Grindelwald. You can mock Newt for many things, but he is no coward and would never bow down to this monster.

Poor Percy or Theseus (or both) holds Newts lifeless body, realizing that they made a horrible mistake and Newt paid the price. It took a precious loved one being ripped away from them to see that.

As children Newt and Thesus often played pets, Theseus liked playing the owner but Newt loved being the pet. He would crawl around and bark and whine, even wear a collar and leash. Newt found that during the game his axiety would disappear, Thesus would look after him, he just had to listen, no awkward talking or having to meet people's eyes, ect.

Now as a adult the game is far different. Newt crawls around naked with his pretty collar on, a tail plug inside him so he's prepped and ready. He wears some sort of charms so no one can recognize him as Newt Scamander, they only see the pet. His master likes to show him off and maybe even uses Newt to sway people, to make political deals and alliances. I'm thinking either Theseus or Percival is Newts master.

If annon is willing maybe Newt puts on shows with magical beasts as well, letting them fuck him as his master asks.

My only thing is that Newt is willing and happy, he likes being a pet and adores his master.

I thought Theseus being the master was hot but imagine if it was Percy and he used Newt to get something from Theseus, like he would be fucking his own brother and not even know it. Jfc.

Newt and Percival meet and hit off young but Percival has to honour a arranged marriage. The sleep together before he leaves and newt sends him a message that he's pregnant but the message misintupreded or such and so Percival replies he's sure newt can handel it on his own, not realizing newt is pregnant at all. But in the end Percival can't marry the girl as he loves Newt. Years later he meets Newt and they spend a week together but a misunderstandin occurrs and they part was angry. It goes on for years until Theseus finally steps in and reveals to Percival he's knocked up Newt four times now and needs to commit or quit.

Percival is very shocked to learn he has kids.

Happy ending please

Seconded so hard.

Credence taking a blast of sex pollen which loosens his inhibitions AND his control of the obscurial, making him an all-round danger to the wider area. And burnt out, post-Grindelwald, suicidally risk-taking Graves not being completely aware of the cause of the obscurial situation until he's slammed up against a wall by a desperate, horny, confused, part-smoke, part-man Credence.

Cue Graves stoically taking several for the team while being consumed with guilt over Grindelwald clearly making Credence fall in love with Graves' face. And Credence feeling horrible about everything: the sex; the repressed desire; that this isn't 'Mr Graves' but he still wants to fuck him or tear him apart or both, and that he's been forced into a situation where he can either control his dick OR the obscurus.

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Page 101 of 142

Prompt Post #2

PROMPT FREEZE OVER

Fill: If You Keep Holding Me [3/?]

Fill: watch the ripples change their size [1/?]

author!anon sidenote

FILL Insecure Percival, Credence reassuring him

Re: Aristocratic Graves/Servant Newt

Re: FILL: Theseus/Newt, Percival/Newt, ABO, seduction, manipulation

Credence/creatures, bestiality

Re: Fill: If You Keep Holding Me [3/?]

Re: Fill: watch the ripples change their size [1/?]

OP

Re: Fill: watch the ripples change their size [1/?]

Re: Fill: watch the ripples change their size [1/?]

Fill: Broken and Kept (Part 6/?)

Grindelwald/Graves, Shaving, Feminization

Re: Fill: watch the ripples change their size [1/?]

Tina/Graves or Newt (or both), magical sex toys

Original!Graves/Newt - President Graves

Graves/Newt: Sith Percival and Neutral Newt

Graves, Newt, Theseus: Newt pays for Percival or Theseus's Mistake With His Life.

Pet Newt, Newt/Theseus or Newt/Percival, possible beast

Re: Pet Newt, Newt/Theseus or Newt/Percival, possible beast

Gramander, Mpreg, misunderstanding, communications fail

Re: Grindelwald/Graves, Shaving, Feminization

Credence/Real!Graves, obscurial bondage, sex pollen, dubcon