fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme (
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-12-25 04:42 pm
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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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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.
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Fill: If You Keep Holding Me [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-02-12 08:21 am (UTC)(link)(author!anon has a very limited knowledge of 1920s muggle/wizard medicine, but is doing her best to make this shit work)
The pain jolts Percival unceremoniously awake, his spluttered curses muffled by the rag stuffed haphazardly in his mouth.
The first thing he notices besides the rag and the pain is the boy crouching in front of him, both hands braced firmly against Percival’s throbbing shoulder. His gaze meets Percival’s for a split second, eyes wide and startled, before dropping back away.
The second is the brush of the cell’s chill air against his bare skin.
Percival’s ragged shirt’s been removed, and the top half of his union suit has been unbuttoned and rolled back to expose his shoulder.
It takes his pain- and sleep-addled mind a moment to realize that the boy’s relocated his shoulder. Percival gives it a small, experimental roll against the pressure of the boy’s grip: it smarts, but rotates smoothly.
The rag isn’t tied into his mouth, and he spits it out onto the ground, swallowing convulsively against the dry, stinging feeling in his throat.
“Thanks,” he says hoarsely. His manacles are still on, so this little episode is much more likely a prelude to future tortures than the rescue dream he’d supposed. Still, it feels good to have the use of both arms again.
"I was hoping you'd stay asleep," the boy says quietly after a moment, his eyes once again fixed firmly on the floor. “The next part will be worse.”
Percival follows his gaze down to his bloodies legs, and shudders despite himself, knowing what’s coming. If the boy’s not adept enough at Healing charms to fix his arm magically, there’s absolutely no chance that what happens next is going to be even remotely painless.
The boy’s next words are all the confirmation he needs.
“They’ve already started to mend, but they’re healing wrong. I’ll h-have to break them again before I set them properly.”
(Under his breath, Percival curses Merlin every possible way he can think of.)
Although he seems resolutely set on not meeting Percival’s eyes, the boy is still doing his best to be reassuring. “Don’t worry; I’m not a doctor, but I’ve done this before. I’ll make sure they’re put right.
Percival doesn’t know why he’s bothering; it’s not as though he can refuse treatment, after all. Perhaps this is another one of Grindelwald’s ploys: get the boy to endear himself to Percival, and then it will hurt all the more when… well. Whatever happens next, it’s not likely to be pleasant.
“You should bite down on this again,” the boy says, picking the rag up from where it’d fallen.
Percival nods reluctantly. The prospect of having the wretched thing back in his mouth isn’t pleasant; still, the thought of biting his own tongue off during a moment of sheer, excruciating pain is worse.
Once the rag is back in place, the boy crawls over to sit at the bottom of Percival’s ruined legs. Long, pale fingers probe the length of his left calf until they find the break, and Percival hisses in anticipation as the boy brackets it with his hands - one above, one below.
“Bite down,” he says quietly. Percival obeys as the boy pushes until there’s a sharp crack.
Percival’s screams are muffled through the rag, but tears drip down his cheeks as the boy rotates the bone into a semblance of its proper position and splints it tightly with a short wooden beam.
If the second leg is slightly better, it’s only because Percival is distracted by the excruciating pain of the first. The boy wraps it like the other before moving back up to Percival’s side, cooing soothingly as he wipes the tear tracks away.
“Why are you doing this,” Percival asks hoarsely, once he’s gathered himself to spit the gag out again.
The boy ignores the question, turning to pick up a thin, skull-topped bottle from his side.
“This will help with your - with those, I think,” he says quietly, waving a hand towards Percival’s sternum. “The packaging says to drink a capful.”
The boy pours the potion out with careful hands before leaning forwards to tip the cap up to Percival’s cracked lips. Percival swallows dutifully, grimacing slightly at the taste.
It burns going down, of course; Skele-Gro is never a particularly pleasant sensation. He’s just opening his mouth to ask for another sip of water when a sharp knock at the cell door makes the boy’s head jerk around.
The boy collects the rag and the Skele-Gro bottle as he stands up. He shoots one inscrutable glance back at Percival before striding towards the door, movements quick and mechanical.
“You’d better get some sleep.”The boy’s voice is tense; ominous. “You’ll need it.”
Re: Fill: If You Keep Holding Me [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-02-12 01:23 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2017-02-12 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: If You Keep Holding Me [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-03-01 01:14 am (UTC)(link)AUTHOR!ANON UPDATE
(Anonymous) 2017-03-02 01:27 am (UTC)(link)