fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme ([personal profile] fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-12-25 04:42 pm
Entry tags:

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.


Also: interested in helping out the kink meme? We are in need of:
-Mods to help manage the kinkmeme itself
-Volunteers to help update the tumblr page

If you have free time to do one or the other, go ahead and e-mail us at fantasticbeastskink@gmail.com.
Thank you to those who have already volunteered, and have a nice day.


Important links:
You can check for fill updates at our tumblr page
You can upload your stories on AO3 anonymously here or non-anymously here.
You can alert us that you've filled a prompt here
You can talk about anything here

[Fill] 2/? Graves/Newt, Leta/Newt (onesided), damaged soulbond

(Anonymous) 2017-01-06 06:22 pm (UTC)(link)
aka, when getting-to-know-each-other turned into angst and misunderstandings ahoy! I don't really know what happened, I'm sorry? I do have more of a sense of where this is going now, it'll probably be 3-4 parts.


It's Newt's terrible luck that has him walking quickly down the hallways of MACUSA, trying not to seem too panicked as he surreptitiously glances around for a glimpse of his Niffler. Keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets, he strides along and tries to not attract too much notice when he notices the Niffler's feet sliding under a closed door.

Newt glances around and tentatively pushes it open.

The office is empty, thank Merlin. Newt closes the door behind him and gives the Niffler, its head poking up from a drawer, his best unimpressed stare; for a moment, the Niffler stares back. "Bad." Newt says sharply, "Now come back, and give those here, and you won't be in too much trouble - "

The Niffler squawks and jumps for the nearby bookcase. Newt rushes to grab him and the Niffler takes the chance to swipe a half-dozen spinning silver ornaments while it evades his grasp, its slippery fur just out of Newt's reach; they careen around the room, from the bookcase to the desk to the other bookcase and the windowsill and yes, that's the Niffler hanging from the light fixture, Newt just has to time his jump -

He makes it, the Niffler caught tight in his arms, but the landing shakes him and losing his balance, Newt stumbles forward - and into the man standing in the doorway.

Newt's hurried apology is perhaps made a little more awkward by the squirming Niffler in his hands. " - but I'm really very sorry," he finishes, looks up, and then pauses, biting his lip at the still-unfamiliar warmth that floods through him at Graves's stare. "Um. Mr. Graves."

Graves looks at him, at the Niffler, then at the office, which is admittedly looking worse for wear. "Mr. Scamander."

"Newt, please," Newt says, shifting the Niffler so he can reach his wand and cast a quick charm over the room. The stray books and tipped-over shelves gently settle their way back into place.

"Newt, then," Graves says. "That is a foreign animal. Who appears to be released."

"He's under control!" Newt says, very quickly. "And it was an accident - not even my fault this time, Tina wanted me to bring my case in so I could submit the waiver, you see, but then one of the wizards there knocked it over, but he couldn't have known I've been having trouble with one of the locks and Niffler just takes any excuse to escape - "

Graves sighs. Newt shuts his mouth, glancing at him hopefully.

"Very well," Graves says, and reaches for his waistcoat pocket. His eyebrows furrow. "Have you seen my pocketwatch?"

Newt looks at the Niffler, who stares back at him unrepentantly and doesn't produce anything of the sort. "Um, just give me a moment, he never likes giving these things up. You brought this upon yourself, you know," he tells it, as he turns it upside-down and starts shaking. Piles of shiny things fall out, from sweet wrappers to pens to a flash of a golden chain, and Newt narrows his eyes as the Niffler curls up, squeaking, and he reaches out and tickles its belly. The rest of its gains fall to the floor in a crash.

The pile is well past Newt's ankles, and he can see three pocketwatches already. "Did you know what colour it was?"

Graves gestures and a pocketwatch, silver, flies into his hand. "I do hope you have some plan for returning all these objects to their owners," he says, and Newt winces.

"Ah," he says, "does MACUSA have a lost-and-found?"

This leads to Graves escorting Newt back out through the maze of MACUSA's halls, a hastily-charmed bag with glittery stones around the mouth holding all of the Niffler's little thefts in one hand and Newt's arm in the other. Newt himself keeps a firm grasp on his Niffler and tries not to look like a student being dragged to his Head's office for a reprimand; Graves was probably a Prefect, he thinks mournfully.

They detour to pick up Newt's case, guarded by Tina who's holding off questions by waving about Newt's signed permit waiver, and Newt carefully clicks open the locks, shoves in the Niffler, and snaps the case shut again while trying not to flush at the number of curious onlookers. "He's safe now," Newt says, offering a tentative smile for the blush of warmth that sweeps through him at meeting Graves's eyes, but apart from a slight frown, Graves's expression doesn't budge.

"You're not finished yet," Graves says, and his hand clamps on Newt's arm. Newt sends a quick, pleading look to Tina, who shakes her head, looking sympathetic but pained.

He ends up being brought to a small basement office, manned by a dark-haired witch sucking on a blood pop. She straightens when she sees them, says, "Director Graves," as Graves holds out the jewelled bag and slowly tips it upside-down.

A pile of trinkets fall out across the table, and Newt frowns, already thinking of the difficulty of sorting through them all. "All of these?" the witch asks, sounding resigned.

Newt says, "Oh, I'll help, it's - partially my fault, after all," and her mouth twitches into a wry smile. Hopefully, Newt asks, "Mr. Graves?"

"I do have work to do, Mr. Scamander," Graves says, and Newt winces slightly. "Newt. What is it?"

"Well," Newt says, "I think, some of these may be yours?"

"Dear Merlin," Graves sighs, but he conjures a chair for himself and one for Newt, and Newt takes it as a victory, however small.

The Niffler apparently stole at least a dozen of Graves's things, from his silver bookcase ornaments to a pile of pens and paperclips, but also a number that have to be sorted: pocketwatches, gold and one a startling, shiny blue; shiny sharp-tipped quills and metal pens, jewelry that ranges from lovely diamond earrings to a cheap costume tiara. Graves is examining a pile of shiny stones, some valuable and some far less so, when Newt spots something in the mix - "Ah, that green one's mine, would you mind?"

Graves tosses it in his direction, and Newt barely manages the catch. It's smooth, nearly oval, warm to the touch; a fake egg for the diricawls, when they get into nesting. The witch across the table is staring at him, looking surprised and amused.

"Green?" she says, mouth twitching, and Newt can feel his face warm as he ducks his head.

"Ah," he says, "yes, well," but he doesn't seem to need to provide an explanation; the witch smiles at him and Newt extracts out a set of tweezers he's fairly sure he lost in the case from the nearly-finished pile. It brings his mind to it, though, and that means... Newt slants a glance toward Graves, and wonders.

The last of the objects are finally gone, taken away by the witch to her racks of storage, and Graves is rising from his chair, straightening his waistcoat as he banishes his items away, probably to his office where they belong. When he looks at Newt, Newt looks back and says, "Thank you."

"I do hope," Graves says, "you can keep your creatures in containment this time, Newt," and Newt smiles, tentative.

"Ah," he says, "yes, I'll - I'll try."

If Newt's not mistaken, Graves's expression softens slightly, but he blinks and it's gone as Graves pulls out his pocketwatch, shaking his head. "Am I correct in assuming you won't be able to find your way back?"

"...yes," Newt says, and quickly hurries to shrug his coat on, grabbing his case from where it's sitting on the floor. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Graves."

"Yes," Graves says dryly, "of course you're to blame for the intricate labyrinth MACUSA thought was ideal for a government building." Newt ducks his head, flushing, and follows Graves out the door.

"Maybe a map," Newt suggests, and Graves huffs a sigh.

"Security concerns," he says. "No, no maps, just... corridors and doors. We don't even use most of these rooms."

He gestures at them, the doors lining the long dark hallways of the building's basement; Newt thinks the wand permit office might be around here somewhere, but he wouldn't be able to say where. They're lit by flickering everlasting candles and when Newt looks, Graves is studying him, too.

"I - I was wondering about that," Newt offers, hesitantly. "Our Ministry's not a quarter this size."

"New York is growing," Graves says, mouth quirked. "And we needed a place - this building was already being made by the No-Majs, so it was easier to create an underlying space."

"The charms must be fascinating," Newt says, intrigued despite himself. "I suppose you must have been worried about the stability of extension charms - but to jump to a full Alternate Space charm, and in a building as large as this?" He looks up as they finally reach the stairs to the ground level, where the ceilings expand to amazing heights. "It's quite a feat."

"You have some interest in charms?" Graves asks, and Newt flushes and shrugs, stuffing his free hand in his pocket.

"Well, I did some work on the Undetectable Expansion charms on my case, you know. It's more of a hobby, really."

Graves makes a sound of acknowledgement. "I see."

Newt glances at him again, surreptitiously. Graves can see colour and has no ring on his finger, which is a good sign for Newt, at least. He's also alarmingly good-looking and the head of the Auror department, which is probably a bad one. The way Newt feels, though... Newt bites his lip, swallows down his question, and says, "Ah, Mr. Graves? I think I can find my way from here."

Graves meets his eyes; Newt has to fight not to give himself away. "Have a good day, Mr. Scamander."

"Newt," Newt repeats, and feels his face warm at Graves's twitch of a smile.

"Then have a good day," Graves says, "Newt."

If Newt walks away with an extra spring in his step, well, no-one's looking; the only person who knows is him.


Jacob's new bakery is already packed full, and Newt watches as the rush slowly diminishes, though there are still a dozen people sitting at tables inside. Newt's been lingering rather awkwardly across the street, pretending to be reading a Muggle newspaper on a bench, and he's still not sure if he should head in. Queenie's there, for one, and he doesn't want to interrupt anything for all that he knows she'd invite him in with open arms.

He's just working up the wherewithal to try when someone says, "Mr. Scamander?"

Newt looks up to Graves's eyes. It doesn't get old, he thinks, that lovely feeling that makes him want to smile; he does, ducking his head slightly, but when he opens his mouth Graves says, "Yes, I remember, it's Newt."

"Thank you, Mr. Graves," Newt says, and folds the paper, setting it aside as he rises to his feet. "Um, not to pry, but why..."

"I was merely surprised to see you on my way home," Graves says, "considering this is nowhere near the apartments MACUSA set you up in." He raises his eyebrows, and Newt can't help the glance away.

Graves follows his line of sight to the bakery, the people inside, and his eyebrows pull together for a moment before his expression clears. "Ah," he says, "the No-Maj you dragged into that Obscurus situation, wasn't it?"

Newt stutters, "I, uh - "

"I hope you remember that pursuing a friendship with a No-Maj is against US law," Graves says. "Or were you just visiting?" He takes a few steps toward the bakery, and Newt abruptly remembers: Queenie. She's working the counter, and she can't be seen.

He quickly cuts Graves off, stepping in front of him, wracking his mind for something to say. "But - it's rather old-fashioned, isn't it?" Newt says hurriedly. "I just mean - no friendship, no relationships - what if, what if," and he meets Graves's eyes for the briefest of moments, blurts, "what if you're soulmates?"

Graves's expression turns - strange, blank. "Then the bond is ignored, as according to law. No-Maj's don't experience the bond, didn't you know?"

"They don't have colour," Newt says, "they already have colour, but the bond, it isn't only colour, is it? There's something deeper to it, some ineffable force that ties you together - "

"Mr. Scamander," Graves says, and steps to the side; Newt thinks Queenie's name very loudly and follows him.

"- and in Britain it's widely accepted that even if your soulmate is a Muggle it's still meant to be, because we all know it's magic herself that gave us these bonds, this ability to find each other." Newt swallows, but can't look at Graves's expression. "I - I just - Theseus said he had a friend here, you know, who found their colours in a Muggle and maybe it doesn't mean everything, maybe it doesn't always work the way it should, but it's - opportunity," Newt says. "It's the chance that there's someone out there that - fits you. Why would you throw that all away?"

Graves looks at him, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Scamander," he says, "I understand, but the law exists for a reason. That friend your brother mentioned was me."

"You," Newt says blankly.

He can't think. He feels like the ground has suddenly fallen out below his feet, like the first time he opened his eyes and the world was no longer black-and-white. He feels raw and scraped-thin and his chest hurts and his eyes feel like they're burning and Newt blinks, hard, and tries to breathe. "I - I'm sorry," he manages, too late.

"It's the way things are," Graves says, and sounds almost sympathetic. "But I wouldn't advise keeping in contact, Mr. Scamander - I doubt you'll want to have your No-Maj obliviated again."

He leaves Newt there, standing in the street, holding a folded Muggle newspaper and the crushed remnants of hope in his heart.

Re: [Fill] 2/? Graves/Newt, Leta/Newt (onesided), damaged soulbond

(Anonymous) 2017-01-06 06:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Newt having to remind Graves to call him by his first name after every sentence is adorable.

And now I'm just curious what happened to Graves that he thinks his soulmate was a no-maj.

Re: [Fill] 2/? Graves/Newt, Leta/Newt (onesided), damaged soulbond

(Anonymous) 2017-01-06 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm the OP and I seriously love you for filling this prompt. Thank you! It's a wonderful story so far and I'm excited to see what happens next.

Re: [Fill] 2/? Graves/Newt, Leta/Newt (onesided), damaged soulbond

(Anonymous) 2017-01-07 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
No! Why would Graves... Ah, that is why he thinks No-Majs do not feel the connection. Oh god, how can this be cleared up?