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.
RULE #3: No kinkshaming.

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So, here’s a short little fill. It’s less of a “five times when...” and more of a “ …and the one time when they all realize the truth.” Also, first time posting on the meme, so if the formatting’s a little funky that’s why.

“Wait a minute, the puffskeins name is Percy?” Tina gawked, pointing at the innocent furball currently nestled in Newt’s hands. Around the two the entire MACUSA building fell silent. Everyone watching the conversation with fervent interest.

“Well, yes. Who did you think I’ve been talking about the last few weeks?” Newt replied.

Tina could only stare at Newt, as he continued to ramble.

“…I named him after my great-uncle Perseus. My mother use to always say how he used to be such a strict man until you got a little fire-whiskey in him and - Tina where are you going?”

Tina didn’t even look back at the confused magizooloogist. The rest of the room sparked back to life, everyone shaking there had and whispering about ‘how could we be so stupid,’ and ‘we should’ve known better.’

Newt looked down at the tiny amber puffskein in his hands, only a few months old. “Do you know why she’s acting so silly?”

The puffskein chirped in reply, its long tongue extending to lick newt chin.

Newt laughed, “of course you don’t, but thank you for the consideration.”

Later that evening Newt was cuddled up in a chair, in his hut. Percy over on the counter, snuggled in a nest of blankets.

“Why didn’t you just tell her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Newt replied innocently, looking over his shoulder at the man behind him.

Percival gave him a look.

Newt shrugged. “I really did name him after my great-uncle Perseus.”

Percival rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but be amused by the other man’s antics. He then walked over and gave him a peck on the mouth. After all, the man had just pulled the wool over the eyes of his entire department.

Percy the puffskein cooed, and both men couldn’t help but laugh.

While writing this, I couldn’t help but think of the puffskeins as being like tribbles from Star Trek. Seriously, they’re both fluffy balls of cute.

Newt had never imagined that organising a marriage could be as complicated as it actually was. It didn't mean he regretted his offer to marry Percival properly, but it did make it all that little bit more confusing. He stared at the book that Queenie had offered him, and then put his head down in a sense of despair. Omegas were meant to be good at this kind of thing, and to him it felt like just another way that he had failed. Another expectation he could never meet.

Generally, he didn't care about what omegas were expected to be. But it was different when he wanted to make Percival happy. He wanted to get this right. He groaned and closed his eyes.

"You know, pillows are right over there." Percival murmured, walking up behind him and resting his hand on Newt's shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"There's so much." Newt murmured. "And none of it matters. We need invites and table centres and..."
"I don't care." Percival said softly, ruffling Newt's hair. "All I need there is you. And I'd like your brother there too, because he's my best friend and your brother. There's no point in anything else."
"Thank you." Newt whispered, sending the book to one side and picking up a piece of paper, writing a list. There were only a few invites to send.

***

The second time, Newt didn't wear white, or pale blue. He wore his normal clothes, including the coat that Theseus had charmed for him. Percival stood waiting in front of Picquery, wearing his auror robes, as Theseus walked by Newt's side. Newt leaned on his brother a little, glancing down at the niffler who looked thoroughly indignant about being put on a leash.

Newt stopped when he reached Percival, turning towards him and bowing slightly. Percival smiled and cleared his throat.
“I, Percival Graves, take you, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, as my equal, my bonded mate and spouse. I promise to care for you, to cherish and love you for all the days of my life, as we set off on this new adventure together.” Newt thrilled slightly to hear the changed vows, no longer being guarded and protected but seen as an equal. He swallowed, before fumbling through his own lines.

“I, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, accept you, Percival Graves, as my equal, my bonded mate and spouse. I promise to stand by your side and face our future adventures and journeys together, and to love you for all the days of my life.” He managed to stumble through the words without too many mistakes, and Percival smiled at him, the President speaking softly. When the time came for rings, Percival reached down to the niffler, tipping it upside down and retrieving a jet ring set with silver, which he placed onto Newt's hand beside the jet one that was already waiting there.

The ceremony continued, Percival biting down on his bonding mark with a little more force than he had the previous time, leaving Newt weak at the knees. Then the two of them danced together, before Theseus insisted on a dance, first with Percival and then with Newt. Newt found there were a number of people who wanted to dance with him: Tina, Queenie, Jacob, and of course Percival. At one point, he even saw the boy that had been rescued from Grindelwald, leaning against a pillar, and then smiling at Queenie when she approached. Eventually, Newt started to feel a little tired. He reached for Percival's hand.

"Can we leave now?"
Percival gathered Newt into his arms, holding him close before he apparated both of them to their own house, their own bedroom. He kissed Newt softly.
"You did so wonderfully today." He murmured, and Newt felt a faint blush across his face. He returned the kiss. He glanced towards the bed, and swallowed a little.
"We don't need to do this." Percival said firmly. "I got to marry you. I got to tell the world that you are my equal, to declare my love for you without shame or fear of the future. I don't need anything more than that."

"I know." Newt answered, backing towards the bed, and running his hands over Percival's arms. "And I'm sticking to what we agreed. You even think about knotting me, and I'm going to test the divorce laws we've been working on." He smiled as he said it, and Percival nodded.
"I wouldn't dare." Percival agreed. "You are far too frightening when angry."

Newt smiled a little at that, trusting Percival's word. Percival reached for his own jacket first, removing his coat, waistcoat and shirt with practiced ease. This wasn't the first time that Newt had seen him without a shirt on, but he was still drawn to him, appreciating his appearance for a few moments before he tried to focus. Percival moved closer, reaching for Newt's hands, encouraging him to touch the expanse of skin, and Newt did, leaning in to kiss there, mapping where his husband liked to be touched, where he wanted contact.

After a few minutes, Percival's hands reached for Newt's own coat, carefully unbuttoning the waistcoat beneath, and sliding it and the shirt Newt was wearing away. Newt gasped as Percival leaned in, trailing soft kisses across Newt's skin. Newt moaned softly at the sensation, rocking against the touch. Percival paused as he reached the waistband of Newt's trousers, lifting his head to look into Newt's eyes.

"I'll start with touching, like we said. If it gets too much, say?" He asked him softly, and Newt nodded his agreement. They had already discussed this all a dozen times. Newt arched as Percival gently moved Newt's trousers and underwear down, his hand reaching out to stroke along Newt's length. Newt moaned, squirming a little - the sensation was different, but not unpleasant. He glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, focusing on the fact he was free, that Percival was there.
"Could you... could you take off your trousers please?" He asked, and was rewarded by Percival doing as he requested. It didn't feel right to be naked and exposed while Percival was still dressed. Newt's eyes widened slightly when he saw Percival's cock, but he reminded himself it wouldn't be something he had to do. He leaned in and kissed Percival, and Percival provided an amazing distraction with another gentle squeeze of the hand.

"I'd like to use my mouth on you." Percival murmured. "If that's okay?"
Newt nodded, whimpering as Percival kissed down his thighs before a hot wet sensation wrapped around his cock, and his hips shook slightly. Between that and Percival's earlier touches, it was not long before he spilled himself in Percival's mouth, panting desperately. He lay back on the sheets, panting, as Percival trailed kisses back up his body.
"Thank you." Newt whispered, feeling the pressure of Percival's length on his thigh. Rather than allowing his nerves to show, he returned the kiss.
"You don't have to do anything." Percival reminded him, and somehow those kind words were enough to push him into action. He reached down, gently stroking Percival.

His movements were clumsy and inexperienced, but judging by the moans that Percival made they still felt good. After a few hesitant strokes Percival's hand wrapped around his own, teaching him how he could bring pleasure without ever having to worry himself with a knot. He tried to learn from Percival's silent instruction, focusing on the pleasure that he could provide for him. It seemed to work, as Percival's stomach tensed a little. He observed the shows of pleasure his husband gave - the tensing of muscles, the soft noises, the way he rocked up into Newt's hand. When Percival climaxed, Newt gave him a nervous glance. Percival vanished the mess that coated Newt's hand, and pulled him into his arms.
"You... you are incredible." He murmured. Newt wasn't sure if Percival was reacting to the bond, but the sensation he felt against him was one of safety and hope. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. He was home.

***

The next morning, Percival woke slowly to find that Newt was curled up on his chest. His hand reached to stroke along the line of Newt's spine, touched that Newt had managed to sleep beside him with no fabric separating their bodies. He pressed a gentle kiss to the omega's forehead, then frowned when he noticed an owl at the window. He frowned, hoping that this wouldn't be MACUSA business. He had managed to take a few days off, to travel around with Newt, and he didn't want to be called away. He opened the window wandlessly, and Newt slowly looked up, stretching and cuddling close.
"Hey Oliver..." He greeted the owl, holding out his hand. The owl landed on his wrist, its huge talons careful of Newt's delicate skin. Newt removed the two letters that it held, and then the owl flew away once more.
"Theseus wrote to you." Newt explained, handing over the first letter then frowning.

"He wrote to both of us."

Percival took the letter he was offered, opening it with a sense of trepidation. Theseus had certainly seemed to be alright with the marriage yesterday, but things could be different now. He opened the envelope and flinched.
Percival, I swear if you hurt him I will hunt you down and kill you. He deserves the best. He is my baby brother and I am relying on you to ensure that no harm comes to him.

He paused when he heard a giggle from Newt.
"Anything good?"
Newt handed over his letter, and Percival returned the gesture.
Newt, I swear if you hurt him when he doesn't deserve it I will hunt you down and feed you to the hippogriffs. Percival deserves the best. He is my best friend and I am relying on you to ensure that no harm comes to him.
"Oh." Percival murmured, and Newt smiled, leaning up to brush his lips against Percival's own.
"I think it's his way of saying good luck." Newt translated effortlessly. "Now come on. You promised me adventures."
Percival smiled and nodded, standing up from bed and going to dress. Behind him, Newt snuggled into the warm patch in the quilt.
"Come on then Newt. We've got mountains to climb."

OG Anon!

thank you so so much for filling! I m honored that this was your first post on the meme!!! =) I loved the line about the fire whiskey and Tina just walking away haha.

Also yes, I totally agree that puffskeins are tribbles in disguise.!

Queenie carefully floated both boys across to bed, placing them down on the soft mattress. They were still cuddled up together, Newt's hands clenched onto Percival's shirt.
"Poor dears." She murmured to Jacob and Tina. "They've had a tough day, poor little guys." She turned to her lover, who was smiling at her, that same awed look in his eyes he had shown when they had first met, back when she was new to him, and he was surprised to find out about magic. Now, he was used to magic, but that sense of amazement hadn't faded. He still smiled at her like she was an angel, every day.
"You are good with them." Jacob said, and she could see the path his thoughts were heading down, imagining crafting a cradle, imagining holding a child of his own. She swallowed, and gazed into his eyes, reaching for his hands.

"Yes." She said. "Teenie and I always looked out for each other, and babies are always getting left in our office - we basically run free babysitting for most of MACUSA. I love helping the little ones..." She leaned in and kissed him, and he smiled.
"Have you ever thought about-"
"Yes." Queenie confirmed. She loved Jacob, and starting a family with him just felt natural to her. She smiled, and he laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"And you'd want-"
"More than anything." Queenie answered. "I know you'd be the most amazing father Jacob. Seeing you with those two earlier just confirmed what I already knew. You are an incredible man, one of the best that I have ever met, and I am so lucky... There aren't any others like you..."
"There's plenty like me."
"None of them are you though." Queenie answered, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "And I wouldn't want a family with any of the rest of them. With you though, well that's different. I want to have a family with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you if I can."

"I'll see what I can do." Jacob nodded. "We can think about it at least..."
"That's a problem for when our friends feel better." Queenie suggested softly. "What can we do for them tomorrow?"
"Read them stories?" Jacob suggested with a shrug. "Get them making things. Tell them they're good. I don't think they can understand right now what's happened to them, so we need to try and make sure that they aren't upset or feel that they aren't wanted. They could ask a lot of questions so we need to know what to tell them."

"Tell them that their parents have been contacted." Queenie said quickly. "I can tell Newt's worried about his family, and the Director isn't surprised his parents aren't there to support him. He feels it's what he deserves..." She shivered, and Jacob's arm wrapped around her shoulder to soothe her. "And make them feel happy. Pickett being here will help of course..." She paused. "What about the case?"
"What about it?"
"Do you think we could take Newt down, not allowing him out of our sight? It will keep him busy at least."

Queenie nodded, smiling slightly.
"Okay, but no unsuitable creatures. The last thing we want to do is frighten either of them."

***

It turned out that Newt definitely didn't need to be worried out. His fondness for the largest and most ferocious animals was clearly well-developed by the time he was five years old. Percival seemed a little cautious, but he stuck close to Newt, trailing him like an overgrown shadow. Several of the creatures had come to investigate the strange human that appeared with Newt's scent, and Newt was ecstatic. He kept picking up different creatures and showing them to Percival with enthusiasm that the director clearly didn't share.
"And this is a diricrawl-" Newt tried to scoop up the small fluffy chick, which promptly apparated a short distance away. Newt gave chase, but just as he picked it up for a second time, the behaviour was repeated. Then the same happened, and Percival giggled faintly, the sound heartbreakingly quiet, but it had happened. Queenie smiled at him proudly.

"Having fun?" She prompted. Percival nodded, and she tried not to delve too deeply into his thoughts. It wasn't her place to look into his personal memories, to delve into the secrets that in his adulthood he would have never chosen to disclose. What she could tell though was that both of them needed a chance to be happy, and she and Jacob could provide that.

Jacob made everyone pies for lunch, and Pickett was given another woodlouse. Newt beamed to see the bowtruckle being treated kindly. Newt smiled up at them.
"Thank you for the help Mister, and letting me see all your creatures. When it's done... when I get home, I want a suitcase like that. I want to have all the creatures who need to be looked after. I’m going to be the best person at bowtuckles and occamy and every other kind of creature."

Queenie pressed Newt's forehead, leaving behind a pink smudge of lipstick.
"I believe you sweetie. I think you will be the best ever one day."
"Even better than Mister Jacob?"
"Even better than me kid." Jacob agreed. "Would you two like to come to Central Park this afternoon?"
Newt nodded quickly and Percival agreed a moment later. Queenie smiled.
"Okay, well remember to be careful and stick with the two of us. We're going to pretend we're a family, does that sound nice?"
Newt nodded, and his agreement once more secured Percival's own.
"What about my bowtuckle?"
"He can sit in your pocket?" Queenie suggested, and Newt was quick to agree. When they had all eaten their fill, Queenie took both boys' hands and walked with them to the zoo, niffler plushie hanging from Newt’s other hand. Jacob bought the boys ice-creams, and held Queenie's hand as they followed the kids around the zoo.

Newt was getting Percival to him read all of the signs, and Percival was obliging with the same patience that he would show whenever Newt brought some injured and spiky creature home. Queenie watched, and then leaned back against Jacob.
"They're doing great." She promised. He nodded, then swung Newt up into the air, spinning him around and then guiding him to sit against his shoulder. The small boy giggled and cuddled up onto him, grip still tight on his niffler plushie. Percival squeezed her hand, his face serious.
"Miss Queenie?"
"Yes sweetheart?" She asked, feeling his fear and hope as he tried to put into words what he was thinking. After a few minutes he seemed to succeed.
"You're lying about something aren't you?"
She knew she could have denied it, but she didn't want to. Not when Percival was smart and brave enough to ask.
"A little bit." She agreed. "But it's not something important, and not something which puts you or Newt in any kind of danger. In a few days everything will make sense."
"Okay." Percival nodded. "Just don't hurt Newt."
"Never." She reassured him. "I wouldn't hurt either of you."

He nodded, and there was such seriousness in his eyes that it broke her heart a little, knowing that the boy hadn't ever really had the chance to relax. She would do what she could for him, for both of them.
"Would you like a bedtime story tonight?" She offered, and he smiled a little and nodded.

Once they got home, the two of them cuddled the boys, making sure they were comfortable before putting them down in bed. Newt sat up a little, bouncing from side to side in excitement as she began to tell a story, reading it from a children's book about dragons that she had kept since her own childhood. Newt was entranced, his niffler plushie wiggling from side to side, Percival listening while trying to pretend that he wasn't. She smiled at both of them, and when the story was finished she tucked them up into bed, kissed them both on the forehead and went to sit with Jacob.

He held her.
"You'd be a good mother as well..." He paused. "Although I hope that the mindreading doesn't run in the family..."
Queenie giggled and kissed his cheek fondly.

***

"Good morning Mister Kowalski, Miss Goldstein." Percival announced the next morning as he walked in wearing some of Jacob's clothing. He was back to his normal size, but was still swamped slightly by the clothes designed for a larger man. "Thank you for your assistance the last few days."
"How's Newt?" Jacob asked, but Queenie could already hear Percival's thoughts. While he was capable of barring her from them, at the moment he was concentrating instead on calming her, thinking 'Newt is better. Newt is fine.' clearly and loudly enough for her to hear. She smiled as Newt appeared as well, dressed in a fluffy pink dressing gown that she often used.
"The zoo was amazing." He said quickly. "New York really is an interesting place."

Queenie walked over to pull him into a hug. A moment later Jacob joined in. Percival sighed softly, but made his way over to the three of them and pulled them into his arms.
"I need to go to MACUSA now, so does Newt. We've got statements to give. Miss Goldstein, if you can come in later?"
"Of course Director."
Percival headed towards the door, planning on apparating back. Newt extracted himself from the hug and walked to Percival. Newt smiled, and waved. Percival paused for only a moment.
"Thank you." He said softly, before the two of them apparated.

Jacob smiled up at her.
"So, do you fancy starting a family of our own?"
She giggled, pulling him towards the bedroom.

So, I finally filled this on Ao3:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10814166

I would've posted it here, too, but honestly, it's just way too long. I'm so, so sorry - as you'll notice, I kind of only filled your prompt in the very end, because I got carried away. Still, I hope you'll enjoy this anyway.
Thanks for the great prompt that inspired me so much! :)

"What's my punishment going to be?"

The silence he was faced with in response was deafening. Percival was sure that both of the brothers could hear his heartbeat. When he'd first married Jauncey, barely eighteen and terrified out of his wits, he would have squirmed at the silence. Now he stood still, breathing slowly. He had been an auror once. He still held that strength. Sickness built in his chest.

"Punishment?" Theseus murmured after a few seconds, the single word loud in the room, even though it had been barely more than a whisper. Percival felt his insides twist, wondering if this was going to mean he had to choose. Had to dictate his own pain. It was a cruel game. Choose too low and he would be punished for trying to get off lightly. Too high, and he would be inflicting more than he should. With Jauncey, he had learned how to read him, the slight tells in his body that showed he wanted to inflict pain with his hands, or when he would be using spells, when he just wanted to watch as Percival suffered and when he wanted to inflict it. He had no such way of knowing with the brothers now.

"Where are your shoes?" Newt said softly, and Percival felt the room spin. Had that been too presumptuous. Was it wrong to assume it might be pain inflicted on his feet? That had always been a particularly nasty trick as he spent hours on his feet, trying to clean, and any injury was magnified. He stood still, trying to make himself submit. Theseus was standing now, approaching him.

Theseus gripped his arms, guided him to sit down, slowly spoke to him to try and control his breathing.
"Whatever that bastard did to you-" Theseus spat. "I swear, I will go into Azkaban and I will tear Grindelwald limb from limb if you give the word-"
Percival couldn't move. He wondered if some spell had been cast on him. He couldn't see why, unless the pain would be so great he would collapse otherwise. The room was spinning faster now.

"It's too much." That was Newt, and Percival wondered if he had lost some of the conversation. Had his punishment already been decided? "Grindelwald had him for a month. This is... this isn't that. This is... this is something worse." Theseus was still crouched in front of Percival. Blood was flowing through Percival's ears, too loud for him to hear, but Theseus waved his hand slowly, indicating when to breathe. It took a moment or two, but Percival worked it out, copying the gesture.

Newt was watching him, and so was Theseus, and he realised he still hadn't got an answer to his question. He still didn't know what they would do, and it was cruel not to tell him. He shivered.
"Percival, tell me-" Theseus began, and he knew he would have to spell out what he deserved, list off his transgressions. He would never remember the entire list. The thought of failing in even that task overwhelmed him, and the world around him faded into black.

***

He could hear murmuring as he began to regain consciousness, realising with some shame that he had fainted from fear. Something was pressed to his lips, hard and solid. Obediently he opened his mouth, and warm liquid slipped across his tongue. It took a moment to place the flavour - it was tea, but there was a potion mixed in with it.

Despite his reluctance, he opened his eyes and looked up to find Theseus crouched in front of him. The room was at a strange angle, and he had been moved back into his bed. Theseus smiled a little when he saw Percival's eyes upon him.
"It's a sedative." Theseus told him. "I'm sorry. We don't want to drug you, but whatever's going on..." He squeezed Percival's hand. "You're scared. And you don't need to be, not any more."

"I'm sorry." Percival whispered. "What... what's going to happen to me?" He asked. He felt like a child, pleading for knowledge, but he couldn't stand waiting any more. "If...if you want me to decide my own...my own punishment I will but please... please can I at least know your rules... I..." His voice shook, and Theseus gently fed him another sip of the tea, hot against his tongue. "I want to be good."

Theseus's hand rested on his own.
"Percival, you're not making much sense." He spoke gently, kindly, but there was a confusion underlying the concern. It didn't look like a joke. "Can you explain it to me?"
"I...I know I've failed you already." Percival whispered. "I...I brought things with me. The cufflinks and...and the lighter..." Even at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to give up the matchbox. The punishment might be worse for it, but he couldn't do that to himself. "I'm not a pureblood. I slept rather than cleaning and I haven't..." He paused for a moment, shame creeping in as he reached his final point. "I haven't been fulfilling my... my duties as a husband..."

Theseus was crouched before him, transfixed, and he could see Newt a short distance behind, some plants on the desk in front of him. Percival tried not to consider what potion Newt might be brewing for his punishment.
"I tried." Percival admitted, furious at his own terror. "Last night, I tried to be... to be available. I got to... I got to the door outside your room but I couldn't..." His voice shook for a moment. "I couldn't open it..."

Newt walked forwards, holding out a potion. It smelt like one that was used by women about to give birth, to help them cope with the pain. Jauncey had never hurt him badly enough that he had needed it, and he had been grateful for that.
"Just a sip." Newt cautioned and Percival obeyed. He wouldn't take advantage of the kindness of easing his punishment even slightly.

Theseus stood now, looming over him, and Percival tilted his head to the side, laying his throat exposed as he spread his legs the way he had been taught.
"Why do you think we're going to punish you?" Theseus asked.

Percival took a deep breath. He didn't know whether or not Theseus knew he was married. Theseus knew he wasn't a virgin. But knowledge of Percival's faults didn't protect him from suffering because of them.
"Because my last husband did."

*passes tissues* yeah... the next chapter was genuinely hard to write, seeing how accustomed Percival was to pain, how twisted and confused his thoughts have got. And the talk is happening

Merlin, Percival is twisting every word and action of Theseus and Newt, isn't he? I think Theseus loves Percival (if that kiss at the wedding is any proof) but even if he only thinks about Percival as a friend it must be heartbreaking for him to see Percival in such state. Just how awful it must be to hear Percival calling himself "available" like he was a thing to use?

I liked how Newt immediately recognized that it wasn't Grindelwald who hurt Percival. Was it Newt's experience with animals letting him realize that Percival had to suffer for long to behave like that?

Oh my... I've just thought how badly Percival may react to Theseus and Newt's reaction to information about having a husband. Ten bucks for Percival thinking Theseus and Newt are angry for him for being married before and not angry at the way he was treated. The next part is going to be a wild ride.

I wish you a lot of inspiration to write! ♥

After kidnaping and taking Percival's identity Grindelwald start to thinking long term. He can't just rule USA when the rest of the world is waiting to be free from muggle domination. So it's time to find someone loyal and powerfull who take care of the things in States later. Luckly he has perfect person for the job. The only problem is Graves don't share his belives but that could be changed.

Grindelwald tries brainwash Graves using spells, potions and muggle technics.

Is up to author if brainwashing was successfull.

(Warnings for mentions of suicide, harm and sexual assault)
The air was full of sugar, as Jacob carefully positioned the eyes in some of the new pastries. These ones were in the shape of occamy, and were the final piece of decoration. He held it up for Credence to inspect, and the boy nodded quickly. He had been helping out in the bakery while Newt stayed in New York, and he was building in confidence. He had steady hands, and was surprisingly neat with piping, which meant that he was decorating some of the cakes. He liked making birthday cakes for the people around there, and Credence had a real flair for them.
"You given any thoughts to what you want on your cake yet?"
Credence shook his head, a faint blush on his cheeks. It broke Jacob's heart how eagerly Credence smiled at any praise.
"We still don't need..." He started, and Jacob held up a hand to silence him.
"It's okay." Jacob grinned. "One of the perks of the job. Any employee of mine gets a birthday cake."
Credence ducked his head, but Jacob could see the smile that rested on his face.

The door opened with a ring of the bell, and Jacob looked up to see William Madison walking through, running through to the back and pulling an apron over the his clothes, hands stained with ink from school.
"Sorry I'm late boss."
"You get in trouble at school again?" Jacob asked, reaching out and running a floury hand through the boy's blond waves.
"No!" William crossed his arms. "I was just finishing some writing."
"Okay. I won't dock your pay today..." Jacob teased, fishing under the counter for the box the boy could stand on. He leaned over the counter, and grinned at one of the nearest customers.
"Can I suggest the winged snakes?" William asked, reaching down for a sample and handing it out. The customer ate it with a smile, and Jacob watched the boy carefully. William looked more like his father every day. Jacob had served with Bill Madison during the war, had helped him get home. When it had all got too much for the man, driven by nightmares to put a bullet in his skull, the note he left his pregnant wife had said that Jacob was a good guy. That he was his friend, and that Bill wanted Jacob to know it wasn't his fault. Jacob still blamed himself, had sent what he could spare from his work at the canning factory to support William and his mother. When he got the bakery, offering the boy a job had made sense. William was only nine, but he was good with money and smart as a whip. Give it a few years, and Jacob could see him doing well, could see him taking over a second bakery if he ever opened one. Knowing the counter was in good hands, he popped out back to check on the cakes that were in the oven.

Credence was pulling his apron off over his head, and paused for a moment when he saw Jacob.
"Found this." He explained, holding out a small ball of fluff. "Puffskein. Not sure if it was in my pocket or it followed me."
"Take it home, then come back. And decide what you want on your cake." Jacob answered with a fond smile, pulling a tray of baking out of the oven and leaving them to cool. When Credence returned, he could get on with that.

"Mister?" William called out, and Jacob wandered back into the main body of the shop. "Your friend's here!"
Newt was standing in the center of the shop, his head ducked down. He looked small, nervous, skittish. He was hiding, even in the middle of the crowd. It would be easy to have missed where he was standing.
"Hey Newt?" He called out, and the young man looked up. "You okay there?"
"Just wondered if the cakes were ready for the office..." Newt mumbled. He'd been working at the auror offices recently, and Jacob tried not to worry. He knew about the swooping evil named Yo-Yo Newt kept in his sleeve. Newt was able to defend himself, but his way around people made Jacob protective of him. He was only too aware of how easy it was for people to hurt someone like Newt.
"Not quite yet I'm afraid." He answered. "My decorator had to go home and return a kitten that had crept into his pocket. So you're going to have to wait a minute."
"I'll wait outside." Newt murmured, almost fleeing from the shop. William giggled, then stood up straight when he noticed Jacob was looking at him.

"So what's funny kid?" Jacob asked lightly.
"Your friend goes all pink." The boy answered innocently, his mother's Irish accent bleeding into his voice. He continued in what he clearly thought was a whisper. "Even his ears."
Jacob considered, and then decided that he couldn't criticise the boy for something which was clearly true. Still, he didn't want Newt to feel embarrassed or humiliated.
"Don't laugh at people who get nervous kid. It'll only make it worse for them."

"Sorry Mister." William muttered, wiping his hands on the apron and handing over a bread roll to a customer. "Did dad ever get scared?"
Jacob shook his head. As far as William knew, Bill had died from a war injury. It was true in a way, just not how he understood it. Bill had been kind, and funny, and shy. There were a lot of ways that Newt reminded Jacob of him. Like Jacob, Bill had enjoyed cooking, and the two of them had formed a strong friendship.

"Your dad was real brave." Jacob promised. "Didn't even scream when he got shot in the arm, he was just excited to be going home to your momma."
"'Cause he loved her?"
"He loved her very much." Jacob agreed, trying to block the images filling his mind of holding the gun, of Bill stuffing his own mouth with fabric to muffle any noise as Jacob lined up the shot that would get him sent home. "Carried a picture of her in his pocket, and he'd kiss her every night before he went to sleep."
"You think he'd love me too?" William asked, a little shy himself now.
"Course he would kid. He'd be real proud of you if he knew how well you worked and how smart you are." Jacob promised, embracing the boy. "Now go on, see if that lady over there wants something."

William hurried away, and Jacob took a few deep breaths to calm himself, and chase away the memories of the war, of all that he had done and all he had failed to do. He had hoped that the injury would be enough to save Bill, who could no longer stand to be at the front, but it was too little too late. Bill was already gone before he left the trenches. It just took him a few months before he picked up a gun once more. If Jacob had his way, William would never ever know what happened to his father.

Bill wouldn't have wanted the boy to know.

Credence rushed back into the shop, a little out of breath as he hurried over to the cooling cakes.
"Sorry!" He squeaked, and Jacob smiled. He hadn't yet trained the young man out of apologising, but he counted it as a success that Credence no longer expected to be beaten for every infraction, however slight.
"Don't you worry yourself." He told him. "Cakes to decorate, soon as you can."

"For Mister Scamander?" Credence asked as he searched for the right piping bag. "He and Mister Graves were talking over by the trash cans."
"Yeah. For Mister Scamander." Jacob agreed. "Will, you okay out front for a bit?"
"Yes boss!" William answered, standing up a little straighter on his box.

"I just gotta go check on them." He told Credence. "Any emergency, you call me, but I won't be long."
"I'll do my best." Credence said sincerely. Jacob nodded, and headed towards the door, a frown on his face. Mister Graves had been sniffing around Newt a little too much for Jacob's liking. For a moment he considered making some grand statement, asking Credence to tell Queenie how much Jacob loved her, or something equally stupid. But she read his mind. She already knew.

The sound of the shop door closing behind him felt almost final, the noise echoing in Jacob's mind. He shook his head. He'd had his share of cowardice on the front. Pretended to be asleep when some of the men had grabbed Bill from the ruins of the farmhouse they had been resting in. They'd been drunk, and been complaining about the lack of girls. He'd seen them pull Bill's hair, a little longer than regulation allowed it to be, and heard them say that Bill was pretty enough for the night. He'd done nothing. He'd been laying down, under a blanket, his rifle several feet away. They'd been armed. They'd dragged Bill off, and he had laid there and done nothing.

When Bill had stumbled in hours later, his uniform was ripped and messy. Jacob and him had sat together for the rest of the night, mending it before he failed inspection. They were back in the front the next day, fighting alongside the others, and if Bill's smile had faded slightly, Jacob pretended not to see. Then a few weeks later, it had been another ruined village, and the same men had approached. That time Jacob had argued, and been left with a black eye for his trouble. He remembered the hopeless look in Bill's eyes as he turned to him and told him to leave it. That it'd be okay.

The next morning, Bill had said he couldn't survive it any longer. Asked Jacob to give him a blighty, a wound to ensure he got sent home. If he shot himself in the foot, it would get noticed. He'd face a court martial for cowardice. But a shoulder wound like the one he got, that couldn't be self inflicted. So Jacob had done it. He'd thought it would save him. But it hadn't. The chance to save Bill had passed with that first night, when he had closed his eyes and turned away.

He wasn't going to turn his back on Newt. He hoped that his instincts were wrong, but if they weren't then he was going to do what was right. He was going to protect his friend, even if it meant he got hurt. He was aware that Mister Graves was considered talented, even among wizardkind, remembered how easily Grindelwald had brought them all to their knees with a flick of the wrist. But he'd failed Bill. He wouldn't fail Newt.

As he turned the corner, he found himself faced with the sight he feared. Graves had Newt pressed back against the wall. Newt was blushing worse than he had in the shop, his gaze fixed on the floor as Mister Graves boxed him in with his body, leaning in close, whispering to him. Jacob knew that Graves was powerful, knew that Newt's case was illegal under wizarding law. Knew that Newt really had no choice but to go along with whatever Graves wanted in the hope of keeping himself and his creatures alive.

This time he wouldn't close his eyes and look away.

He sprinted the short distance down the alleyway, heart thumping in his chest as he brought his fist up and slammed it into Graves' jaw. Graves stumbled away from Newt, and Jacob turned to the magizoologist.
"Run." He begged.
Newt drew his wand, and suddenly Jacob found his feet were rooted to the spot. A glance at the director confirmed that he was faced with the same predicament.

"What?" Graves asked, raising a hand to rub his jaw and looking more startled than anything else.
"Who are you?" Newt asked Graves, and the Director frowned.
"Percival Graves. Same as I was yesterday. I knew you were getting us some cakes, so I thought I'd pop by and see how you were getting on - a decision I'm regretting now. Why is your No-Maj attacking me?"
Both of their eyes were now on Jacob, and he raised his head. He wasn't ashamed of what he had done.

"I'm not letting you hurt him."
"Hurt me?" Newt asked, and Jacob sighed.
"Look, Newt, you're my friend. I know he's powerful and all, but you don't gotta let him get away with this. It isn't right."
"What, exactly, am I being accused of?" The Director asked, as movement returned to Jacob's feet. Jacob took a few hesitant steps forwards to position himself between Newt and Graves.

"Newt's...delicate."
"He regularly carts around dead animals and he has a swooping evil in his sleeve. I'd hardly call him fragile." The Director countered. "And he can fight his own battles, you don't need to step in."
"He can't fight you. You're important." Jacob answered. "And I know what he does with the creatures. But with people, he's shy, and he's... he's got nice lips and soft hair and all that stuff that ladies are meant to have."
"I'm pretty sure he's missing a few things ladies are meant to have." The Director muttered.

"Didn't stop your type during the war." Jacob spat. Newt frowned, reaching out for Jacob's hand and squeezing, and Jacob turned his attention to Newt. Newt was the important one here, the one Jacob wanted to protect.
"What do you mean our type?"
"Not your type Newt. His. Guys who get what they want even if the other guy is saying no. I ... I saw what they did. And I did nothing, and there ain't a day goes by when I don't regret it. But I can't let it happen to you. I can't let him use you. I don't care that he's got magic. I can't let you get hurt."

Newt darted forwards, wrapping his arms around Jacob and squeezing him tightly.
"You're protecting me?"
"That's what I been saying."
"You're protecting me from...from Director Graves making me do things I don't want to do?"
"Yeah." Jacob sighed. "Fine job I'm making of it too."

Newt paused, and tilted his head to one side.
"Okay. Then thank you. You... that can't have been easy." Newt fidgeted slightly where he stood. "But, if it's all the same with you, I'd quite like Director Graves to kiss me. If... If he wants to."

Jacob looked between the two of them in shock, and turned away slightly as Graves leaned in and closed the gap, kissing Newt as softly as you would a woman.
"You like that?" He asked Newt in disbelief.
"Depends who with." Newt said thoughtfully. "But yes. I'm rather fond of Percival. It's part of the reason I've been bringing the aurors cake..." He squeezed Jacob's hand. "Thank you though. You're a good friend."

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, but relieved all the same that Newt was safe, Jacob glanced over at the bakery.
"Your cakes should be ready by now."
"Lead the way." Newt said with a smile. Jacob nodded, then turned to the Director.
"If you hurt him, I don't care that you're magical. You will regret it."
"I don't doubt that for a moment." The Director said with a slight smile. "But for now, lets see if the cakes are ready."

Jacob led the two of them back over to the shop, seeing that William had done well in his absence. He embraced the boy for a moment, and hoped that if Bill's spirit could see them, he'd understand.

(AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10827711)

The stupidity of traffickers never stop surprising him. Every time he thinks they've done something that can never be topped by anything, they prove him wrong.

He strides into Percival Graves' office unhurriedly, languidly. It wouldn't do to show his ruffled feathers to these Yanks. Besides, Percival has managed to keep everything in check so far. He's already gone through a trans-Atlantic emergency portkey, saving loads of time getting to America. The situation can wait for a few more minutes.

He knocks on the door, which is opened seconds after his hand touches it. Inside, his DMLE counterpart is sitting behind his desk.

"Heard you've got a situation," Theseus drawls. Percival grimaces.

"I've barely managed to calm him down," Percival grunts, moving to lead Theseus to the cells. "Everyone makes him jumpy. Except for me, for some reason. And maybe Goldstein, but I've been made to promise by the younger Goldstein to let her sister have a few days off, becuase Goldstein's apparently been overworked since the Grindelwald fiasco. And the younger Goldstein is not to be messed with. So I haven't contacted Goldstein, and luckily Newt responded well to my presence. But I still feel like one misstep would set him off and..."

"And what, exactly? What do you think he'll do if something sets him off? Without his wand? Wait, you did get his wand off him, didn't you?" Theseus teases. It's a proof of their long friendship that Percival doesn't shoot a hex at him then and there. Theseus smirks, likely guessing what just went through Percival's head. "Besides, you've got nothing to worry about. I told you he's fond of you. He won't hurt you."

"I'm more concerned about everyone else he doesn't like."

Theseus shrugs. "He should be pretty peaceful and submissive if unprovoked."

"He is, but how long will he stay that way? He was pretty... wild, when we found him. My team had to do what they had to do to subdue him. Now he gets very obviously suspicious whenever anyone aside from me approaches him, so we haven't had any chance to try and find a countercurse. I didn't want to risk my team."

"My little bro scares all the top Aurors of MACUSA, who knew..."

Percival glares. "If your Aurors were in the same situation, they'd be scared as well!"

"Oh, they're fully aware that Newt's more dangerous than anyone they've ever met, me included. I've made sure of that. But they also know that there are certain things they can do to stay safe from him."

Percival hesitates in opening the door leading to where Newt's being held in a cell. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"It boils down to the fact that they should let me handle him," Theseus says with a wink. Percival sighs and lets him through.

Theseus walks right up to Newt's cell, gait steady.

"Hey, Newt," he whispers as Newt goes and sticks his nose right up Theseus' neck, pressing as close as he could through the bars. "Heard you got into a sticky situation here."

"Nah, that was the traffickers that got into a sticky situation," Percival states dryly. "Seeing as none of them survived."

"What exactly happened to them?" Theseus asks, running a hand through Newt's hair. Newt pushes his head into the touch. He might just descend into purring if Theseus keeps it up. This would be a hilarious story to tell his mates once he goes back to Britain.

"They were torn apart limb by limb."

"By hand?"

"By teeth."

Theseus winced. "Ah. Well. That'll turn into one of those too good to be true Blue Coat legends before we know it."

Percival purses his lips. "You're not telling me all of those legends are true, are you?"

Theseus grins. "Go fetch your people so they can start looking for the countercurse. He'll be focused on me so they can approach without fearing for their lives."

"You didn't answer my question, Theseus!"

On Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10836912

"Because my last husband did." It was an admission of yet more failing, one more error in among so many others, and Percival waited to find out the response. An array of emotions danced across Theseus's face. Anger was there, and so was surprise, and something that looked like horror.
"Can we talk in the parlour please?" Newt asked softly. "One of the occamy is there, and if we leave her too long she'll go on another adventure." His voice was gentle, careful, and Newt's own expression wasn't as violent as Theseus's. Just confused.

"Sure." Theseus said quickly, backing up slightly, and shooting a look towards Newt. Newt shrugged, and Percival stood carefully, a little unsteady on his feet. The potions he had drunk had calmed him a little, given him a sense of distance from the terror that built in his chest, but he was still frightened. It was Theseus who took Percival's hand, apparating him the length of the house so that the two of them ended up beside the couch.

In the war, he would have smiled and teased Theseus about showing off by apparating such a short distance. Now, he sunk onto the couch, Newt walking in a moment later. Theseus waved a chair over, and Newt perched on the arm of it as Theseus took the seat, facing Percival.
"If you feel dizzy again say." Newt explained, and Theseus nodded. Newt leaned in, murmuring to Theseus, and Theseus's lips pressed together with anger. Percival did feel calmer, the sedatives having the desired effect, helping soothe his thoughts even as his heart raced.
"Of course."

"Where is he?" Theseus asked. "Your last husband?"
"He... he died. He died nearly fifteen years ago." Percival explained. "A fall. I... I was blamed, but...I didn't. It wasn't me." He hadn't gotten help, but he had tried. The warding around the house had held him trapped until Jauncey was dead, and by then it was too late. There had been murmurs that Jauncey's death had been convenient for his ambitious young husband with hopes of being an auror. Nothing had been proved. Two years later he was off in the continent, fighting with the British and moving on.

That was what hurt the most. Percival had moved on. He had made a life for himself, and now it was all lost. He waited for the brothers' judgement, waited to see what they would want from him. In a way it was a relief to have it all in the open, even as he worried about what would come next. If he survived the next few hours, he might have some rules he could use to shape his life, to succeed.

Theseus frowned, his gaze fixed on Percival, but Newt's hand was on his shoulder, calming him. It was clear that Newt was the one who would be more merciful, his body language calming. He was curled up slightly, not threatening but rather trying to reassure.
"Theseus?" Newt asked, and his brother turned towards him. "Could you make us some hot chocolate please?"
Theseus got up and walked out to the kitchen. Percival tried not to flinch at the sound of something being punched when Theseus was out of sight. Newt picked up the occamy from the floor, and rested it on Percival's lap.

"Could you pat her for me? Down the spine, but not on the head. They get worried if you touch their heads. She needs to get used to being handled by more than one person."
Percival blinked a little at the request, but did as he was asked, running his fingers along the overlapping scales. The occamy seemed to enjoy the attention, arching into his touch and hissing softly.
"That's good." Newt said after a few moments. "Just like that." He smiled, and Percival focused on the task he had been given, the occamy growing a little as he continued.

Theseus returned after a couple of minutes, a mug of coco in each hand and a third floating through the air ahead of him. He handed one to Percival and one to Newt, snatching the third for himself.

Percival looked between the two of them. It felt almost calm, as though they weren't angry, and the drink was warm but not hot enough to burn. He took a couple of sips as he tried to find the strength to speak, but he couldn't work out what to say. Eventually it was Theseus who broke the silence.
"We didn't know."

"I'm sorry." Percival mumbled into his mug. "I should have told you but I didn't want to cause problems. I just... I wanted to be better this time. Jauncey always... always showed me how ... how bad I was, how many mistakes I made, but I wanted to do better this time. I wanted to learn, to be good. To please you-"
"We ...we slept together in the war." Theseus said, sounding a little dazed. "I thought... I thought you wanted to-"
"You said it was just for fun." Percival answered after a moment, a little embarrassed. "It didn't matter. I wasn't committing to anything, I could just... just relax. It wasn't..." He shook his head. "I enjoyed it."

Theseus seemed to relax at that, and Percival couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something. That he had made a mistake and frightened Theseus, even when Theseus was the one with all of the power here.
“I remember what you liked.” Percival said softly. “You… you never made it painful, it was just… just intimacy. I could do that for you now still if you want. I can do anything, I’m sorry I wasn’t… I’m sorry I had…” He shook his head. “You deserved better.”

The noise that Theseus let out was almost a laugh. He was shaking his head, and looked like he might start to cry at any moment. It was strange. He reached out for Percival’s arm, resting a hand on it as Percival continued to gently pet the occamy.
“It…was you who deserved better. But you… you were an auror Perce. You fought, you were brave and you saved lives. You came so far. Did… did MACUSA know what had happened to you when they agreed?”
“A few. Madam President did.”
“And she didn’t try and talk to us about it? Let you think you were just… just being sent to… to what? Be our toy? Please us? They were already throwing around the idea of execution, but it seems they wanted to hurt you and us.” Theseus’s eyes glittered angrily, and Percival flinched back slightly.

“Theece.” Newt snapped at his brother, pulling him up from his anger. “None of that was Percival’s fault, at all.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop taking it out on him.” Newt said softly. He watched Percival closely before speaking, his gaze resting on Percival, focused. “Yesterday, you helped with the creatures. If you could continue with that, it would help me a great deal.”

Percival nodded quickly in response, trying to understand. It seemed like Newt was offering him a way to start to repay his debt, a way that he could rely on. He nodded quickly. It occurred to him that whatever they had drugged him for hadn’t started yet.

Theseus managed a faint smile, but his eyes were shadowed.
“This man… hurt you a lot, didn’t he?” Theseus said, speaking carefully. “You aren’t going to be hurt here.”
Percival thought of everything that Jauncey had told him. How it had always been punishment he deserved, mistakes that he had made when he should have known better. He couldn’t help believing that it was his fault. It seemed like he was tricking them, and that when they discovered how bad he was, he would be punished.

“I’ll try and be good.” He promised again, the words sounding weak, echoing emptily. The strange thing was, they seemed to be blaming Jauncey for what had happened. “It wasn’t his fault…” Percival murmured. “He just gave me what I deserved.”

Theseus sighed softly.
“No. We’ll show you what you deserve Perce. Just give us time.” Theseus sounded like he was in pain. “But it won’t hurt. You won’t be hurt, not by us, not at all.”

Percival tried not to think of Jauncey’s friends. But Theseus sounded so honest, so sincere.
“Do you have anything you want to ask?” Newt said softly.
“Why did you give me that potion and then not… not punish me?”
“To calm you. It gives a little distance, it makes conversations like this… easier.” Newt answered, and Percival could see the logic there.

“I’m going to cook dinner now.” Newt said, leaving Theseus and Percival alone. Theseus was gazing at the occamy on Percival’s lap.
“He’s dead?”
Percival nodded, and Theseus sighed, silence falling between them. Theseus was lost in his own thoughts, as Percival tried to make sense of what he had been told. When Theseus had said he would give Percival what he deserved, it felt like a promise not a threat.

Thank you - I agree about Theseus, he is really fond of percival, and he's struggling a lot with what is faced with. For Newt, very much it's based on what he has seen with creatures, and what he has been able to learn from that. And Percival is definitely very confused. Thank you! Your encouragment helped

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10839357

*

Witches don't cry.

He's heard the mumble off Credence's lips, during a rumbling garble of dreamspeak.

Percival pushes himself up to an elbow and wakes the other man slowly, calling to him, whispering low reassurances over him — "it's alright, baby, s'alright, I've got you" — and holding a hand over Credence's heart.

This time, no warm tears spill off his cheeks. But in the dusty, yellow morning-light, Percival can see the shadowy, vibrating particles swirling around Credence, growing denser.

"No, don't do that — look at me," Percival encourages him, not daring to reach out again. "You're in control, Credence. Remember that."

The other man sits and leans into his hands, pressing them into the cot. He's visibly quivering. Credence twists his expression and inhales, the corners of his dark eyes going milky.

"I'm trying…" he mumbles, clearly frustrated.

Percival nods, eyeing him. "I know."

He has to admit — this is far better than the sheer panic and fear when a recovering Credence experienced his Obscurus a few months ago, nearly engulfed by his own magic.

In his rage and grief, some time ago, he became an actual wildstorm.

Nothing could stop him.

Percival thinks about it and is utter awe of Credence. How much power and magic lives inside his veins. And yet, Credence is a kind soul: he still fights shrinking against the gentlest touch; he tries to make himself smaller in crowds and around his friends.

Credence is an apocalypse housed in flesh and bone — and he loves someone like Percival.

Once the dark, morphing vapor falls away in wisps, Percival touches the side of Credence's face, smiling a little as the other man's eyelashes flutter open. No more milky-pale.

"You did beautifully."

Credence flushes hotly, narrowing his eyes but falling forward. He presses his nose into Percival's nightshirt, burrowing closer to him and winding his arms around the other man's middle.

At the nearly childish gesture, Percival chuckles, petting fingers into soft, brown locks.

"Your hair is getting long…"

Thicker.

Credence's health quickly improves after leaving a life of malnutrition and daily abuse — of course. It's a small blessing to witness that poor, thin body gaining considerable weight.

"You don't like it," Credence muffles out. He doesn't sound at all upset, but more blunt.

Percival's nose wrinkles in thought.

"It suits you, but me?" he announces, glimpsing Credence peeking up inquisitively. Percival offers another faint smile until the other man straightens up, climbing between Percival's legs. "I'm afraid I'm a bit too old-fashioned…"

"Maybe," Credence whispers, their noses brushing, lips ghosting each other.

He's like a living fire — sweltering, tempting and full of heat. Percival runs his hands upwards over Credence's bare, muscular back, so very mindful of the occasional patch of raised scars.

Credence's mouth feels wet and warm. It opens for the pressure of the sudden, moaning kiss, allowing the other man's tongue to slide within.

He's a hex — rendering Percival helpless and wanting, pulling Credence in, rutting, raptured.

The halcyon, roaring noises of Paris smothered out by a whining and sweet cry echoing in Percival's ear. Credence rocks steadily on his lap, practically bouncing, guided comfortably by the pair of hands on his hips.

"Easy, take it easy," Percival coaxes him.

He kisses his throat, biting gently on the arc of his throat. It draws softer awed noises out of Credence.

"Inside me… please."

(Oh fucking hell, what he is doing to him… …?)

"Not this time, baby," Percival says. He snorts out a breathy laugh when Credence groans loud and disappointed, sending him a frown. He feels it melt off Credence's features with another open-mouthed, aggressive kiss.

This is the best taste on Credence's skin — soap and heavy cologne and sex, permeating Percival's senses and his immediate memory.

He remembers fondly how deep inside he could reach, pinning a grinning, pink-cheeked Credence down to the countertop and fucking him until he shivered, gasping and coming hard.

Nothing would make Percival happier than to bring him an endless life of pleasure and peace.

To make up for those lost hours and days while imprisoned by Grindelwald, for what he never could provide Credence or shield him from.

*

If that's considered love… then he's glad for this.

So I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks this but Sergei Polunin (who's an extraordinary ballet dancer) and Eddie Redmayne bare a likeness to each other and I would love to read something with ballet dancer Newt!
It could be a secret talent of his (or maybe not so secret, we've all seen the mating dance) and gets uncovered for a undercover mission for MACUSA or maybe an AU in which dancing actually is his profession. Honestly I'd be happy with whatever as long as it's ballet dancer Newt!

This could be Gen, but if you want it in more shippy I would not say no to some Percival/Newt

Decades before the Weasleys ever set a single foot in Hogwarts, the fear of red-headed twins had long been put into the castle by two equally devious boys.

Just, anything featuring twin!scamanders wrecking havoc at hogwarts and beyond. (no incest though, please, that's a rather big squick of mine)

Bonuses:
+peeves was actually a rather harmless poltergeist before they showed up
++Leta is the only one who can tell them apart, to Newt's delight and Theseus' disappointment
+++ you include the something along the line of "Theseus goes out of his way to find trouble, trouble goes out of its way to find Newt"
+++++++++later MACUSA hijinks with Queenie encouraging them

Okay so gimme some Queenie or Tina and their partner talking over pregnancy and if it's the right time to bring a child into their relationship. Het preferred for this, but if you wanna throw some abo femslash or even some genderfluidity or even make one of them trans p l e a s e do

(bonus for sweet, sweet sex after the Talk with their partner being extra gentle and loving with lots of dirty talk about how they're going to 'breed' them?)

I'd prefer no jacob/queenie or newt/tina but I'll honestly take what I can get with this

Newt's heart raced. It had been eleven years since the healers had found him, stained in his own blood and sobbing, left for dead by the humans who had taken his child. The healers had told him that the child hadn't survived. He had been young then, barely eighteen when the baby was born. If he hadn't been expelled, he still would have been within the safety of Hogwarts' walls. As it was, he had been meddling in things he had no place in, and he had suffered for them. He had never once doubted that his actions had cost his child their life.

"Where?" He whispered before he could stop himself. He had already received the answer he had asked for, but knowing his son was alive somewhere in the world without knowing his location was the worst torment Newt could imagine. Asking for further generosity from centaurs could be seen as greed or disrespect, but he had to know.

Icarus considered for a moment, his hooves scraping across the ground before he spoke.
"He is across the ocean, within sight of the torchbearer who welcomes travellers. If you travel quickly, you will arrive in time to assist him. For he needs a parent's guidance, now more than ever."

"Thank you." Newt murmured reverently. This was the opportunity he had dreamed of but never expected to face. This was his one chance, and he was grateful for it. the centaurs nodded, and escorted him from their forest. As he perched on the broomstick, flying away, he was already trying to work out how to get to America. Thanks to their strict laws he knew that he and his creatures would not be welcomed there. Not only that, but he knew he could easily be seen as a political target - the younger brother of a war hero and chief auror. While Theseus was saving wizard and muggle lives alike, Newt had been trying to rescue the innocent creatures caught up in it all. He'd been freeing a couple of Iron Bellies from the Austrian command post when he had been overwhelmed, pushed to the ground and stunned unconscious. He remembered little until the cell.

He never remembered his captors' faces, thanks to the spell they used. Newt wondered whether he had walked past any of them since the escape. But he remembered the gentle touch of the man in the cell next to his own, the constant reassurance that somehow, everything would work out. He believed the man. Even when his body had begun to change, he had trusted the man's promises and thought the three of them would start a life together. He had been wrong.

Officially, he spent the entire war working with dragons. Once his child had been delivered and ripped from his arms, he had returned to duty, now working with the soldiers rather than rushing along headlong in an attempt to save the creatures. He felt there had probably been some kid of success and improvement from his work in the war, but he couldn't help wishing he had been able to do it on his own terms. After the war, he had been granted the contract for his book and he had travelled, having adventures he never even could have dreamed of. It was simpler in a way. Some nights, he dreamed of what could have been, but that was gone.

Had been gone. If the baby lived, he would have to find them, even if he had to tear apart heaven and earth to do it. His child needed him, his son needed him, and Newt could not ignore that siren call. He would find his child, and let him know he had always been loved.

Newt's mind was made up by the time he reached London, booking a one way ticket to New York. He could make good use of the trip, taking the opportunity to free a captive thunderbird which had been safely hidden within his case as it recovered from a particularly nasty leg injury. He booked the tickets, trying not to let his hopes build up too much. His son might want nothing to do with him.

He couldn't help wondering though, what his son would be like. If they might take after their father. If so, Newt might be able to piece together who the father was, and hopefully recognise the face of the man he had forgotten. He hoped that one day the boy would believe him if he said that the separation they had suffered had hurt him more deeply than any injury he had ever felt. It was one of those things which was hard to put into words, but his lack of eloquence in explaining in no way negated his emotions. Even when he believed his son to be dead, he had loved him constantly. Now he knew the boy was waiting for him. He just needed to find a way to reach him, to take care of him and ensure that he was safe. It would never compensation for the years that were lost, but it could provide a second chance and a fresh start.

***

Credence cowered in the alleyway outside of the church, feeling a little sick. When Ma spoke everyone listened, she had a way with people that seemed to hypnotise them. No one was willing to listen when Credence tried to speak. Everyone turned away, and it made Ma angry. She had hit him before this, sharp nails and furious fists. But recently, she had seemed more angry with him. He was eleven years old now, too old to be slapped for misbehaviour. She used his belt to strike his shoulders and his hands, and the leather now was stained red with his blood. He wrapped his arms around his knees, perched on a pile of bricks.

“Hello.” A gentle voice spoke, and he looked up to see a middle-aged man in a dark coat walking towards him. His thick coat looked warm, and Credence wanted to touch the soft fabric, but he wouldn’t dare.
“Hello sir.” Credence whispered, looking up towards him. He thought he’d seen the man before, watching Ma speak. “Do you… do you want me to find Ma for you?”

“Actually, my boy, I rather wanted to talk to you, if you would permit me that.” The man smiled, and leaned down. “Your hands there look sore. Let me see?”

Credence hesitated. No one was meant to know how bad he was, how sinful he was and how many problems he had caused for his poor Ma. But the man had already seen it. He held out his hands.
“I fell.” He lied, waiting to be caught out.

The man smoothed his fingers across the cuts, and Credence gasped as the surface of the wounds knitted closed. He cringed, leaning into the man a little, and was rewarded by fingers being brushed through his hair.
“This can be our secret.” The man said softly, and Credence nodded his agreement.

“Now, I’ve been looking for a special boy who could help me with your mother…” The man said softly. “What’s your name boy?”
“Credence sir. Credence Barebone.”
“My name is Mister Graves. My dear boy, I need your help. One of the children your mother is working with is... is in danger. And I want you to help if you can. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes Mister Graves.”
“You will tell no one you spoke to me.”

Credence nodded, and stood quietly, wiping his uninjured hands on his pants. He listened to what Mister Graves wanted of him, to try and remember what he could do for the man. No one had really shown interest in him before, but Mister Graves seemed fascinated.

***

Newt sat on a bench on the boat, watching the city approach. The other passengers were looking around in excitement, but he was taking a few moments to consider what the future would hold. Whether or not he succeeded, this visit would change his life forever.

The case catch flicked open, and he pushed it back down before chaos built out. This trip needed to go well. This city contained the answer to the question that had haunted him for nearly twelve years.

Somewhere, in those buildings and the streets around them, his son was waiting for him.

Auror Langarm, due to be executed in the meeting, was Percival’s main concern. A young man, a promising auror with no-maj parents, Percival didn’t want to lose him. Didn’t want him to be killed at the end of Percival’s wand. The fact he was expected to rape Credence was more minor. It sickened him, but if he could save Langarm it would be an acceptable cost. He reminded himself of this, even though he felt sick. He stared down at his wand, feeling sick, trying to work out how he had got to this point.

He was afraid of killing Langarm, and he wondered if that was something they could use. A boggart perhaps, or some other creature. He considered his options. There had to be some way he could get through this encounter without Langarm needing to die.

He heard a knock on his office door and smiled as it opened, then paused when he saw the dampness in Queenie's eyes. His first thought was that something terrible had happened to Seraphina. If that was the case, then all of this would be hopeless and his opportunity of fighting back was damaged if not lost.
"What's wrong?" He asked her softly, aware that it might be overheard, but needing to know.
"It's Cerberus Langarm sir." She answered, her head down. "He's hurt real bad. I think if I could get him to a healer for a few weeks he might get better, but otherwise, I don't think he's gonna make it..." She sniffled, and Percival wondered how much of her actions were a show for the camera, and how much was her own sadness. His heart sunk at that. Even if he could spare Langarm, there was no way he could get him to healers. The man's fate was sealed and the best that he could do now was make it quick.

He stood up and embraced Queenie, rubbing her back, and leaned in close enough that he could whisper into her ear.
"Tell him I'm sorry."
"He said he forgives you." She murmured in reply, before walking away, leaving Percival to his thoughts.

***

Despite his reluctance, Percival made himself sleep that night. Being tired would achieve nothing other than making the situation more difficult for him the next day. Tossing and turning wouldn't save Langarm, wouldn't spare Credence. His own guilt meant nothing. He had promised Grindelwald that he would be practical, and he intended to stick to that promise now. He would do what had to be done.

He slept, and woke with a sense of resentment like a cannonball lodged in his gut. He dressed, pulling on the same clothes he had worn when he had worked for MACUSA, the same clothes that Grindelwald had worn when he impersonated Percival himself, and headed down to the Pentagram office.

Walking in was like facing a dark parody of the International Confederation of Wizards. A number of faces he recognised from wanted posters and auror reports glared down at him, as did people from Europe. There was the light blond hair that meant the Malfoys were in attendance, and beside them the Lestranges, the Blacks. Prominent families. A cameraman from the Ghost was there, as was one of the reporters who had interviewed Percival before. There was a desk, where a figure sat chained. Even from behind it was clear the man was badly injured. Langarm hung limply in his restraints, his body slack, one leg bent out at an unnatural angle. Percival walked around him, trying not to see the injuries across his body.

"Good of you to join us Director." Grindelwald called out imperiously from his seat, watching the proceedings from the center, the focus of the action. Beside him knelt Credence, naked. His back was bloody and his head was bowed, arms shaking visibly even from the distance that Percival was from him. Percival tried not to see. Seeing would help no one.
"Hello sir."
"Now, this auror tried to stop us." Grindelwald spoke to the floor at large, before flicking a crucio at Langarm. The man screamed in pain, his body starting to convulse, and Percival walked closer. "What shall we do with him?"

The screams of "Kill him" echoed around the room, and fell silent in a moment when Grindelwald raised his hand.
"What do you think Director?"
"I think that we need to set an example. Kill those who stand in our way." Percival answered, staring at Langarm. There was no-one here to assist, no one to save him, no friendly face to watch his passing. Only the click of the reporter's camera, and the hungry eyes of the watching monsters.

"Do it." Grindelwald demanded and Percival raised his wand, pointing it straight at Langarm's heart.
"Avada Kedavra!" Percival spat, seeing the green lightning flow from the tip of his wand to Langarm's chest For a moment he tensed, before he flopped forwards onto the desk, life extinguished.

The audience were whooping and hollering their delight, and several were laughing. Percival suspected that they were laughing at him as much as at poor Langarm, but he couldn't be certain. He was surviving. But it came at a cost greater than he would have imagined.

"Well done Director. I do hope you weren't close."
"Only in the past. He couldn't adapt. He needed to die." Percival answered, trying to ignore the sickness that swirled in his gut, the body of one of his fine aurors laying sprawled on the ground before him. His answer was met with more laughter and more clapping and cheering. Grindelwald smirked, standing for a moment, and all attention turned to him.

"I think our director has done well." He began, and was met with cheering and laughter. He let the words hang in the air for a few minutes before he smirked. "And good behaviour deserves a reward." He clicked his hand, and the chains binding Credence released. He pushed him forwards, and Credence began to crawl forwards, his limbs shaking so badly that he threatened at any moment to fall forwards.

The camera continued to click.

"The Moonflower here has a special fondness for the director. Always waits as long as possible before he sucks the director's dick. And he's been playing up recently So now the director gets a reward, and the Moonflower learns what happens if he misbehaves." Grindelwald continued to talk. "Director, fuck him over the table. Put him in his place."
"What do I do about-" Percival gestured to the dead body, words failing him.
"Just work around it." Grindelwald said calmly. Percival fought down the bile in his throat, and focused instead on Credence. He had dreamed about Credence the past few days. But this was real, and it was unwelcome.

Credence reached Percival's feet, and knelt up, reaching for his pants, nuzzling him through the fabric before undoing it, taking Percival's cock into his throat, sucking on it. Percival ran his fingers through the dark hair, trying to make the gesture soothing but to look as though he were tugging. After a few moments, he pulled Credence away, shoving him onto the table, as far from Langarm's body as he could. He thrust into Credence, feeling the heat of the boy's body. Credence cried out in pain and Percival tried not to hear as he began to rock his hips, focusing on the fact that doing this would keep Credence alive. It was meant to appear a punishment, and judging by the laughter of the people around it was succeeding. He wasn't entirely sure who it was that was being punished, but he lacked the strength to argue. Instead he focused on his movements, on fucking into Credence.

Credence was rocking back against him, even as soft pained noises escaped his lips and Percival closed his eyes to block out the rest of the world, focusing only on the two of them and the sensation of Credence's body around his own. It seemed to work, his arousal continuing, and he imagined that they were in bed, that he had been able to take it slowly and treat Credence the way he deserved. He imagined Credence climaxing, moaning Percival's name, and that thought was enough to make him climax inside Credence. He pulled out, and nearly knocked into the photographer who was snapping away at the mess that had been left and which now trickled down Credence's thighs.

He heard clapping, and looked up to see Grindelwald smirking down on him, an amused look on his face.
"I'm impressed Director. Now, you've asked for him before. Do you want him still?"
"I do." Percival answered after a moment. It could still be a trap, but for the sake of both of them he had to hope that it wasn't.

"You can take him to your bed for tonight. But I will see you in the morning, and I want him there then."
"Thank you sir." Percival answered, trying to ignore the anger and sickness within his chest as he gripped Credence's hair, feigning pulling him towards the door, as Credence scrabbled along on his hands and knees beside him. He was still shaking, and looked close to collapse.
"You can make as much a mess of him as you want." Grindelwald called out. "Hurt him. Have your fun in whatever way you'd like, and maybe it will mean he learns a little more about how to behave in future."

They reached the door, and Percival glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at the man even as he felt sick.
"As you wish sir." He pushed open the door, and allowed Credence to crawl through. He was startled by quite how close Credence seemed to collapse. The applause started up again as he reached down to grope Credence. It was adding another humiliation, but it might just save both of their lives. He stepped out.

The door swung closed, but not before Percival heard laughter.

Percival flinched at the sheer fright in the boy's eyes, raising his hands in an attempt to soothe him.
"Okay." He said softly. "No authorities. I told you I wouldn't hand you over to the aurors and I meant it." There was uncertainty shining in Newt's eyes, but after a couple of moments he nodded, the movement small and hesitant. Percival sighed softly, wanting to ask for more information but not knowing where to begin.
"So... its what, you and your pet bowtruckle against the world?"
"Pickett isn't a pet." Newt answered, sounding genuinely offended by the suggestion. "Pickett is a friend. He looks after me."

Percival didn't make a comment about that, not wanting to criticise the boy when it was clear that the bowtruckle was all he had. At hearing his name the bowtruckle again stuck its head out of Newt's pocket, and Newt lifted him out, letting him rest on his shoulder.
"They pick locks right?"
"They are able to, but it's not comfortable for them." Newt answered carefully. "Their fingers are used to pry into cracks in the wood and scrape out woodlice. They won't encounter a lock in the wild. Pickett here likes attempting them occasionally, and is very talented." The bowtruckle seemed to bask in Newt's words, shifting a little from side to side as though the praise were sunlight.

Percival nodded, listening to the boy. It was amazing how he came to life when he was asked about creatures. Newt looked up after a moment.
"Do you live alone?" He asked. "I didn't sense anyone else here..."
"I do." Percival answered, mind full of images of Newt on his knees the previous night, promising to do anything if the aurors were kept out of the picture. "I have a girlfriend though." That at least might keep him from assuming that Percival would want that kind of payment for his assistance. His own preferences didn't matter, not when the focus was keeping the boy calm and discovering why he was on the run. He thought through his options. There were a number of female aurors he could trust to help him with Newt, but only one whose sister was a skilled legilimens. "Her name is Tina. She and her sister are going to join me for dinner tonight."

Newt's face flickered with a number of emotions, fear chief among them. He glanced towards the door.
"You want me to leave?"
"Actually..." Percival hesitated. "You're a talented cook, if this breakfast is anything to go by. Would you be willing to prepare a meal for us? They aren't staying over, so you can stay in the guest bedroom and I’m sure she’d love to meet you."
"They aren't... they don't work for MACUSA?" Newt asked, uncertainty written across his face. Percival felt guilty for lying, but knew that telling the truth would only frighten the boy.
"Queenie is a teagirl in the office. Tina works at the Blind Pig, one of the bars, as security."

Newt nodded, seeming to relax a little at that.
"And you?"
"Disabled due to injury, and wealthy enough that I don't need to work." Percival answered calmly. "Lost my leg in a duel..."
"Oh." Newt paused. "I never did understand the point of all that pureblood..." He swallowed and blushed. "I'm sorry sir."

"It's alright." Percival answered after a moment. "I completely agree. I was young and stupid, and I made a mistake. It's alright now really. I've learned to live with it."
Newt nodded, chewing on his lip a little. Percival waited patiently for him to find the strength to ask whatever it was that was bothering him. After a few moments he was rewarded by Newt licking his lips and then speaking, voice little more than a whisper.
"What should I call you sir?"

"My name is Percival-" Percival answered, managing to cut himself off before he revealed his surname. "That would be fine."
"Thank you sir. Percival." Newt answered after a moment, a faint blush across his face. Percival fought down his realisation that the boy was attractive. Newt had already been hurt enough. Anyway, as far as Percival was aware the Ministry of Magic were not in the habit of hunting people down unless they had done something in order to deserve it.

"I will need to be going out later." Percival informed Newt. "Will you be alright on your own?"
Newt nodded, but a look of fear crossed his face once more. Percival wondered if Newt suspected that he was going to MACUSA - he was, but not in the way Newt thought. Newt was not a common name, even among wizards. It might be enough for him to find some clue as to the boy's identity, when he wouldn't bring forth the information himself.

"I just need to ensure everything is in place for tonight, and to visit a few friends. I won't be out for more than an hour or two. If you could take that time to clean the bathroom, that would be of great help. And see if we have to buy anything extra for dinner tonight." Percival suggested. The boy seemed to calm a little when given a direct order. "If you want, you can put up your own wards while I'm gone, or we can put them up together to ensure that no one other than me can come back."
"No." Newt said after a moment. "It's your house, and your lady is coming later. I can't stop her from being able to visit. It wouldn't be right."
"As you wish." Percival answered with a nod. He hoped this would at least alleviate the boy's fear a little.

Newt got to his feet, clearing the table in silence. Percival watched him for a minute before standing and glancing towards the door.
"Will you still be here when I get back?" He asked. Newt nodded, and Percival walked away, replacing the wards from the previous night. Newt wouldn't be able to access the bedroom, or take anything of Percival's from the house, but if he decided he had to leave then he would be able to.

He made his way along the street, his leg aching slightly despite the cushioning charm applied to the top of his prosthetic. It was a challenge, learning to walk like this, and not one he had planned on taking. The past few months he had focused on recovery, dreaming of getting back to work as he walked around the house or stumbled a few blocks. Now, his mind was on Newt, on what had happened to him and who he was, and for the first time since the injury he was thinking about something else. This wasn't just filling in some paperwork for MACUSA, or advising on a case or training a junior auror. This was a man coming to him for help and leaving him with more questions than answers.

Walking into the Woolworth building, he could feel the eyes of MACUSA on him. After his injury, Seraphina had ordered him to take some time to recover, and he had been forced to hand over his role to Auror Fontane - his leg worked well enough for most days, but he would struggle to keep up in the heat of a raid. There had been rumours that he would never return. And now he was striding down the corridors as though he had never left. He made his way to an elevator, and nodded to the goblin bell boy.
"Major investigations sir?"
"Please." Percival answered, as the elevator lifted into the air. It wasn't long before the doors parted and he walked out into an office filled with aurors. They clapped and cheered to see him, as though he was a hero merely for getting up there. Several of them stepped forwards to shake his hand and ask how he was, and then Fontane walked over, a bright smile on his suntanned face.
"Hello Director."
"You're the Director now." Percival reminded softly. "How have you been in my absence? I see that the building hasn't fallen down at least"
"We've missed you." Fontane said calmly. "We were a little concerned that you weren't planning on coming back and were going to leave us to our own devices."
"I know what chaos you all get up to when left alone." Percival smirked. "I wouldn't dare."

"Is there any particular reason you are here today?" Fontane asked, and Percival thought of the letter he had received that morning.
"I need to meet with the President. Goldstein?"

Tina pushed her way through the crowd, her head down. She looked a little shy, as always, but Percival thought she seemed a fraction braver than the last time he had seen her.
"Yes sir?"
He gestured her to follow him away from the main group, talking to her in a whisper.
"I want you to research everything you can about a British wizard by the name of Newt. He is a Hufflepuff aged somewhere between eighteen and twenty five. Be discreet about it. I'll be back to discuss it with you once I have seen Madame President."
"Yes sir." She scurried away to the archives, as Percival walked along to the President's office. He had walked this way hundreds of times before, but his steps sounded different now, and that thought made his insides twist in on themselves. He knocked on the door, and pushed it open at Seraphina's voice.

She smiled when she saw him, gesturing for him to sit down. He pulled the chair out with a wave of his hand, and sat down opposite her.
"You made it in then? How's the leg?"
"It's getting there." Percival answered. "How has it been here?"
"It's a lot calmer without you around, for a start." She teased. "But you're here. Does this mean you've decided to consult?"

Percival paused. He'd been asking to be allowed back into the field, and then back into MACUSA, ever since his accident occurred. But now, he was suddenly reluctant. He hesitated and then shook his head.
"I want to consult, but I need to deal with a personal matter first. It shouldn't take more than a few days, and then I'll be back to full ability."

"No one expects you to be okay immediately Percival." Seraphina said.
"I'm not the first Graves injured in the line of duty." Percival pointed out. "And I won't be the last."
"I don't care about the other members of your family." Seraphina pointed out bluntly, the same passion on her face that she had shown when they had met at school, and he had been explaining about the pressure of the family name. "I care about my best friend. My best friend who nearly died twice as an after effect of trying to save everyone else, and I'm not losing him now. Not if I can help it."

He reached out and squeezed her hand, stunned by her show of emotion. So often during the course of their work they faced each other professionally, it was almost a shock to see Seraphina as herself, the same passionate young woman he had befriended in Ilvermorny.
"Thank you."
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't. I just need some time so that I can work this out, and then I'll be back doing what I can. Just trust me for a little while, okay?"
"What's going on Percival?" Seraphina asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know yet." Percival answered honestly. "But I am certain that I can work it out. Just... no auror visits to my house for the next few days, and only communicate via unmarked owl."
"Alright." Seraphina answered. "But I hope you know what you're doing."
Percival flashed her the brightest smile he could.
"So do I." With that, he got up and left the room.

He found Goldstein crouched over a dozen different files, several bearing the seal of the Ministry.
"I need to ask a favour of you."
"Yes sir?" Tina looked up.
"Can I ask you and your sister to join me for dinner tonight? I need to get your sister's opinion on someone, and I have told them that you are my girlfriend."

Tina blushed slightly, then swallowed.
"You tell that to Newt Scamander sir?"
"I don't know his last name." Percival answered, but glanced down to see a photograph. The boy in the image was eleven, just starting at Hogwarts, but the curly hair and inability to meet another's eyes were recognisable even at that age. "That's him though."

"Oh." She frowned. "I've found a few reports from the Ministry sir. He was expelled from Hogwarts for endangering another student's life. Since then he has been being hunted by the Ministry."
"For what he did at school?" Percival asked, trying to square her words with the frightened young man that he had left at home that morning.
"No sir. For being an associate of Gellert Grindelwald."

Dear goddesses of porn, please grant unto me, your humble petitioner, any female character and any male character not in an established relationship at the start of the story accidentally swapping bodies. Self exploration ensues, with attendant awkwardness and maybe guilty feelings. Partnered sex, during or after the swap also good. The messier and weirder the feelings, the better. Extra love for messy, weird awkwardness that resolves happily in the end.

My favorite character is Tina, and I love her paired with Graves or Newt, but I honestly would take anything het.

*bear* a likeness to each other

Hi OP,do you want the fill to focus on the adventures of newt, or his relationship?

So Graves and Newt are having their first time. Graves is very well endowed so he's more than ready not to do anything penetrative until perhaps they can ease into it (and by this point he is so madly in love with Newt, he'd be perfectly happy to just hump the man while still clothed and consider himself the luckiest bastard on the planet). However, Newt surprises him by being extremely eager to get a long, thick, hard cock inside his tight hole; in fact, Newt is a shameless (or maybe a bit ashamed, for additional kinkyness) cockslut who loves bouncing on a cock, being bent over with his hands bound behind his back and coming without a single touch to his own cock, just from being taken hard and brutal. He loves being fucked so much that he asks a reluctant ("I don't want to hurt you") Graves to pound his clenching hole just as unrestrainedly as before after Newt comes. He's oversensitive, sure, but he loves it so much, he welcomes it even after he came a second time, moaning, whimpering, wailing, sobbing, shivering. Maybe a third, too. And he still get fucked afterwards.

(Because there can never be too much Newt taking it up his perky British ass and loving it)

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Page 127 of 142

Prompt Post #2

Everyone ships Graves/Newt (fill)

FINISHED Fill: A Gilded Cage is Still A Cage (25/25)

Re: Everyone ships Graves/Newt (fill)

Fill: Someone Today (5/5)

FILL on Ao3 (link)

Fill: Who Pays The Piper (11/?)

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (10/?)

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (11/?)

Grindelwald/Graves or Grindelwald&Graves brianwashing

Fill: And Food Which Sustains Man's Heart

Re: Newt - Animal Instincts

Re: Newt - Animal Instincts

Fill: Who Pays The Piper (12/?)

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (11/?)

FILL (NSFW): "Silhouette No More"

Ballet Dancer!Newt, Gen or/ Gramander

Theseus + Newt, gen, Twins and Hogwarts Hijinks

Any/Queenie or Any/Tina, Pregnancy (Breeding Kink?)

The Heart Grows Fonder (2/?)

The Moonflower (Graves/Credence noncon) Part 7 of 12

Fill: The Possibility of Hope (3/?)

Any het, bodyswap, masturbation

Re: Ballet Dancer!Newt, Gen or/ Gramander

Re: Gen or Newt/Graves - Speaking Earth

Real!Graves/Newt, Newt fucked roughly long after orgasm, a bit of size kink