fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | 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.
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RULE #1: No prompt must exceed 250 words. Any prompt that exceeds that WILL be screened.
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I'd like a fic where Grindelwald respects Graves too much to rape him. When Grindelwald kidnapped Graves to impersonate him, the Director very nearly won the duel. Recognizing strength, Grindelwald offered Graves a powerful place in his organization, only to have Graves spit in his face and stick to his ideals. This leads to the biggest crush Grindelwald has ever had since Dumbledore.

seconded

Grindelwald pining over Graves? Thirded

omg yeeesss, I want iiit T T

the title's from romeo & juliet. sorry about any typos.
somehow gellert turned out to be the sort of person who would say "blood orange": super pretentious.

--

He says no. He says no and means it.

He's fit. Nothing like Albus, of course, who was long and lean and led by the nose, with that mop of red hair and the grin that always began in the eyes before things changed there wasn't a smile at all. He's fit and handsome in a strictly classical way, something very American about him, Gellert thinks. It's the fitted waistcoats - no, it's the hair, cut so evenly. The strength of his jaw. Those serious eyes.

He almost won. It keeps going back to that, doesn't it? He almost won and, on his most peculiar days, he wishes that Percival had won. Just to see what he would do with the spoils of victory.

"You don't mind if I call you Percival, d'you?" he says affably.

But Percival looks unimpressed. "We're not that familiar." So curt. Always. Percival's eyes lower - and Gellert is out of this world thrilled for an absurd moment, wondering - but no, they've caught on the cuff of his shirt, which is stained with -- "Blood," says Percival pointedly. "That's blood."

"I touched something dirty," says Gellert. He's on his knees on the floor, in front of Percival, who's of course chained to the bed and thus is mostly restricted to sitting while leaning on the headboard. Whenever he moves the chains clink and glow with the golden fire of runes twisting themselves in an impossible web of knots. Gellert likes them because they remind him of himself - and well, Albus can say all he wants that Gellert's a narcissist, but takes one to know one. Isn't that how it goes?

"Something dirty?" repeats Percival sharply.

"A boy," says Gellert, and his smile widens like a cut, tongue lolling... He doesn't wear the disguise when he's with Percival because there's no point. Unlike him, Percival isn't distracted by love of the self - as Gellert had taken the time to prove. He'd walked around naked while using his Percival's skin, and the only thing Percival had said was that he didn't swagger like that, and if Gellert wanted to fake this the right way shouldn't he mind those details?

"Did you hurt him?" Percival moves. Gellert follows the line of his body greedily. It's such a treat to watch him, since Percival's mostly still and lost in thought, and occasionally playing with the chains even though it inevitably fails and he ends up bruised.

Gellert licks his lips. Maybe he likes bruises. See, yes, that makes sense. Bruises. Then perhaps he should - but well, does Percival likes bruises on himself or should Gellert allow a small-time crook to hurt him in a lucky shot. He could stretch in front of Percival and tell him all about and how difficult the job is and that Gellert absolutely, completely understands how hard Percival works, how much he --

But he thinks about Albus. No. Better not. It does no good to open yourself bare when the other's not as invested, surely. He's old enough by now that he realises most people aren't capable of the intensity that fills him like holy fire. So.

"Grindelwald. Did you hurt him?"

"Hmm?" Gellert blinks. "No, no, it wasn't me. His horrid mother. He's a squib, you know, and his mother - she's one of those annoying muggles who think magic is 'of the devil.'" He allows himself to make silly air quotes while twisting his mouth in what he hopes is a charming moue. "I got dirty when I healed him."

"You healed him," repeats Percival, flat.

"Yes," says Gellert, bemused, "Yes, well -" And then he realises that maybe Percival is jealous, oh, and he stands up abruptly and climbs on the bed. He doesn't touch the chains but they glow a little darker at his proximity. Gellert feels happy, too. He loves magic. "That doesn't mean I like him, though," adds Gellert. "No, certainly. He's useful, but he's -" Gellert tries to catch his breath. "He's nothing like you, Percival."

"Don't call me that," says Percival, and then proceeds to stare at him the way he does sometimes, an undecipherable furrow between his eyebrows that turns him from handsome to rugged. Gellert tries to straighten his posture and he runs a hand through his hair so it falls in a more aesthetically pleasing way, trying not to smile too much. That would be strange, wouldn't it? It would be strange. So best not. Best not!

"I was thinking," says Gellert, feeling the terrain hopefully. "I was thinking - remember when we had our duel, and I offered you a place in my --"

A bark of laughter. It comes so abruptly, like a wave rising from deep in the ocean. Gellert's hand tightens on the sheets and he licks his lips, which taste like salt.

"That's right," he says, giddy. "You remember. Yes, of course."

"It's not the sort of thing that's easy to forget," says Percival, laconic even when using irony. "As you see." And he raises a hand and the chain clinks and Gellert loses the thread of his thoughts for a moment, he's so distracted by Percival's lovely wrist. Strong. He looks strong. Just imagine if they could share a bed properly, as two men who - who respect each other ought to -

But first:

"You haven't been thinking about it?" inquires Gellert, blinking quickly. "Hmm? It hasn't been on your mind?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you sure?" presses Gellert, leaning closer. "Because I will win, you know, there's nothing about it, nobody's even realised that I'm not you, and I'm almost there, and then once this plan is finished I'm --"

There's no warning except the sudden tension in Percival's thighs, but since Gellert is such an observant person of course he notices it, and welcomes it, and he's ready when Percival launches himself at Gellert, knocking him back on the bed. Gellert grabs the chain closes to him and pulls it away, so that Percival loses his balance, and then there's some confusing medley of limbs and heat and weight on top of him and the sheets smell nice, like Percival, like that shaving lotion that Gellert helpfully got from Percival's bathroom, and they're touching - see, all right, there may be some attempt at violence included, but it's a clumsy thing, and Gellert has only to recall the glorious duel where he almost lost - almost lost! - to be able to compare and come to the conclusion this is nothing.

This is nothing. A man like Percival Graves, he could bring about the end of the world, you know. He could convince a man to eat from the forbidden apple. Gellert had promised himself he wouldn't, not after Albus, but.

But...

But Percival is attempting to strangle him by looping his free chain around Gellert, and the manacle is tight around his wrist and - bruises! - and Gellert stretches so that he may reach up and brush his mouth to Percival's in such an innocent kiss - and it succeeds in startling Percival. Gellert twists to shove him off, even though he likes their position very much. So he fixes their sudden distance by crawling on top of Percival, sitting low on his belly, so that the jut of Percival's hipbones is very noticeable. Gellert is breathing hard. He smiles showing his teeth.

"You," he says fondly. "Oh, you, Percival."

"One day, Grindelwald," says Percival, apparently with his mind still pondering their little skirmish. It's obvious he thinks Gellert's kiss the result of a non-traditional distraction.

"Yes," says Gellert, and touches Percival's hair gently before Percival turns his head to avoid him, his eyes narrowed in thought. "One day, one hopes."

oh wow... you have such a talented way with words here...I love your Grindelwald voice

Whaaaat. Look what you did. Now I ship this. Ahhh.
Gellert's point of view was so interesting!
And his respect for Graves... his growing infatuation... his fondness.
I loved it.

Lovely lovely lovely
Now I want some more one sided fics. Your Grindweld reminds me of a less disturbing Joker vs Batman

Prompt Post #2

Graves/Grindelwald- Respect

Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Respect

Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Respect

Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Respect

Fill: Graves/Grindelwald. Trespass sweetly urged (1/1)

Re: Fill: Graves/Grindelwald. Trespass sweetly urged (1/1)

Re: Fill: Graves/Grindelwald. Trespass sweetly urged (1/1)

Re: Fill: Graves/Grindelwald. Trespass sweetly urged (1/1)