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.
-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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After two days with no sleep, Percival was exhausted. Even with his nightmares, his body was relieved to be finally granted permission to rest, at least for a few moments. He had intended to only rest for a few minutes. A brief nap before he began to wash and clean the house. He had noticed that there was some silverware in the kitchen, but that already sparkled in the light. So he wasn't sure whether or not it might need cleaning. In his nightmares, Jauncey shoved his face down, getting him to inspect the candlesticks he was meant to have polished. Percival had tried. He had done all he could to remove the marks that blotched the base, but they remained. It was only after the candlestick was brought down hard on his back, on his leg, that he realised why he had been unable to remove that particular mark. It had been spelled to be immovable.

He shuffled about on the bed, trying to cringe away from his ex-husband's smiling face. He nearly screamed as Jauncey gripped his shoulder, shaking him hard. He bit his lip to hold in the noise, unable to stop a whimper from escaping him. Jauncey's grip didn't relent, but he could hear him speaking. The panic echoing around his brain was too loud for him to listen, but it was quite clear that Jauncey expected him to respond. He swallowed, and finally, reluctantly, opened his eyes.

Theseus Scamander was straddling him on the bed, his eyes wide.
"Hey... Hey Perce..." Theseus said softly, his hand moving by Percival's side. "Breathe with me. Breathe in.... and out... and in..." Sleep-addled and disoriented, Percival could do nothing but obey, following his husband's instructions. Eventually his pulse slowed to the extent that the room stopped spinning, and he managed to look calm.
"Sorry." He glanced towards the window and flinched - the sun had nearly set. Far from cleaning the house by hand, he had done nothing but lay in the bed as his exhaustion overwhelmed him.

"No need to apologise, you looked pretty out of it." Theseus said quickly. "I'm sorry. I was going to let you sleep, but... well, you sounded really distressed..." Theseus looked almost guilty, which made no sense. "I know when I have flashbacks to the war, I want to be woken..." He swallowed and shrugged. "But that's not the point now. We wanted to talk to you. And after that... Newt and I really need to talk to you. Take a few minutes to pull yourself together okay, we'll be in the parlour."

Percival nodded quickly. The punishment would be starting then. He would have made it worse for himself by not tidying, but he had already failed in a dozen different ways, more than even he could remember. Jauncey had never forgotten a transgression, never missed the opportunity to hold it over Percival's head. It was likely Theseus would be the same.

He wondered what he was meant to do before heading downstairs. He didn't want to preempt or guess what might be wanted. He checked his matchbox was still safe, but didn't risk a look inside. He couldn't waste time. To do anything before their punishment would be too presumptuous of him, and might only anger them more. He paused, and then slipped off his suit jacket, hanging it up smartly. He removed his shoes and socks a moment later, leaving him in just his waistcoat, pants and shirt. The waistcoat was fine material. It would be wrong to get blood on it. He unbuttoned it, returning it to the shelf it belonged to, and then made his way across to the room where the brothers were waiting.

Newt smiled to see him, not commenting on his outfit choice. He could only hope that meant he appeared properly repentant. He didn't know what would happen now, didn't even want to guess. If he was forced to decide, he would, but otherwise he wouldn't play that game. The waiting was the worst part. But now the waiting was nearly over.

"Hello Perce..." Theseus said, but his normal joviality didn't meet his eyes, and Percival found himself wondering if he had done something unimaginably wrong. Theseus didn't seem the kind to play games. He had been kind before.
"Thanks for coming to talk to us." That was Newt, and he was curled up strangely on the sofa, his knees towards his chest and his arms wrapped around them. "We... we wanted to say that we're worried about you. We were going to say earlier, but we got called away, and you looked peaceful when we first arrived-"

"What am I doing that's worrying you?" Percival asked quickly, running through his actions in an attempt to discover which of his actions might have offended.
"We're not worried by you." Theseus said quickly. "We're worried for you."
That was another of Jauncey's tricks. To punish him for his failures, and explain how Percival had brought this upon himself, how it was all his own fault, how he had to be more careful in the future. It had been believable from Jauncey. From Theseus, the one person he had allowed himself to get close to during the war, it was devastating.

"I'm sorry." Percival said, and he was. He was sorry about the entire situation, but he was also sorry that he was letting Theseus and his brother down. They deserved better.
"Was that the first sleep you got since arriving?" Theseus asked, and the look in his eyes made Percival sure that he was remembering the war, when Percival would work for days at a time before crashing in utter exhaustion. Percival nodded, and Theseus hissed.
"Okay. Look, whatever's bothering you... I know you went through a lot. With Grindelwald, and with the war before that. I can't pretend I can fix everything. But Newt and I...We're here for you, if we can be. We are on your side." Theseus reached out for Percival's hand. Percival held his hand out, palm up, thinking of what he had heard about the obscurial boy.

Newt suddenly frowned, and then raced across the room before pouncing on his own suitcase with a resounding thud. Percival watched the entire undertaking with some confusion - he was familiar with Newt's adventures while Grindelwald wore his face, but it was still surprising to see him wrestling with a suitcase.
"Something wrong?" Theseus asked, his attention mercifully momentarily diverted from Percival to his brother.

"Niffler's got loose." Newt muttered. "Percival, can I check in your room please"
So this was it then. This would be the trap. They would find his remaining treasures, and blame him for having them. No opportunity to apologise, just the destruction of what he cared for.

“Of course.” Percival answered quickly. Protesting or being reluctant would do him no favours. They were in control, and he couldn’t stop that. Newt rushed off, returning a few moments later with a wriggling niffler beneath his arm, and something shining in his other hand. Percival nearly gagged. Newt threw the niffler down into the suitcase, and then turned to Percival, holding out a shining object.

His lighter.

Percival reached for it before he thought better of it. Newt handed it over.
“Sorry. He tends to steal things-“
“How did you find it?”
“He carries things with him. When I checked him it fell out, but he hadn’t got into your room yet…”

Percival blinked back tears, grip firm on the lighter. He took a few deep breaths, gathering his strength, before turning to Theseus.
“So…so what happens now?”
“What do you mean?” Theseus asked softly, an arm around Newt’s waist. Both of the Scamander brothers were staring straight at Percival, identical stern expressions on their faces.
Percival looked down, making himself force out the next few words.
“What’s my punishment going to be?”

"Fuck" is what I thought after I finished reading. I know Percival's first marriage was awful but I still got goosebumps. That line about not getting blood on a vest? I thought I was going to cry; just how much Percival was abused to accept that he might be beaten so much he will start bleeding?
He's so terrified, thinking that everything is a trap, analyzing his every move. But as much as my heart broke at his last question I'm glad he asked it. The next chapter is going to be painful (I can't wait for it), but that talk between Percival and Scamander brothers has to happen.

*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

Prompt Post #2

Fill: Who Pays The Piper (10/?)

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

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