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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Thank you to those who have already volunteered, and have a nice day.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No. no no no. This couldn’t be happening. Terror and hopelessness gnawed at the edges of Newt’s core as the world seemed to move in slow motion around him. The faint dim of the outer laying chaos barely rang in his ears; he tried to force himself to move. To just bloody move, it didn’t matter where.
He’d known – of course he had – that the witch or wizard impersonating Grave’s couldn’t been the director; After all he knew Percival. The Scamander brothers had met the man once before at a quidditch tournament and the wizard had definitely been attractive but was certainly NOT Newts’ destined mate. Even after the prolonged tightly-pressed exposure he had with the other man - as they’d been forced to squeeze close in the overfilled stands - Newt had felt nothing. None of the tale-tell signs that came with meeting your bond-mate.

No sense of euphoria or warmth. Not even goosebumps.

Even so he’d wished – hoped beyond hope – as the magic had rippled away to reveal the imposters true face, that he’d been wrong. That Percival was just . . . mentally ill; that they could work everything out; with home treatments or therapy. He romanticized the idea. Him holding Graves; gingerly nursing his mate back to health and sanity, deepening the bond they’d share. He’d had to help a lot of wounded even feral animals, Newt was sure that he could do the same for Graves.

But then the disguise had fallen away; and he found himself standing by the tracks, frozen in despair, and staring into the mismatched eyes of the wizarding world’s most dangerous dark wizard. Gellert Grindelwald.

His Soulmate...

Then Grindelwald had shot him a sharp look. The twisted smile, curling up at the edge of his lips. The intensity in his gaze so dizzying that Newt had visibly shivered; dread curled in his gut like sour milk. And then the creature holding him had burst into pink flames. There was a scramble. Spells and curses hit everything - except their target – with loud cracks and echoes.

The world seemed to catch itself as the next few moments zipped by in a flurry, almost as if making up for the time it had lost while Newt had panicked silently. The ginger had barely been able to bring his wand up to guard his face when he’d felt the punch land. Vision swimming, he staggered and fell. Right into Grindelwalds grip. Hands palmed at his shirt tucking him so tight against the older wizard that he could smell him beneath his disguise. Burnt ash and copper, with a mix of pepper strong enough to make his nose scrunch up.

There were so many sounds that the magizoologist couldn’t help but whimper. Too loud. Battle sounds rang high, orders drowned out in screams and chaos, Grindelwalds’ steady huffs and restrained grunts in his ear. The sound of magic and the city. Then nothing. Through all the jostling and commotion Newt hadn’t once opened up his eyes; still just trying to shut out the reality of what was happening.

No. What wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening, it was all a bad dream, it had to be, he couldn’t be – not with this mad man...

He was ripped out of his thoughts by the feeling of lips resting against the shell of his ear. His eyes shot open and he was aware at once of two things; The air smelled like saltwater and ash. And he was on his back, crushed beneath Grindelwalds weight.

“Not quite what you dreamed about in your schooldays am I? . . . Mr. Scamander."

Newt shivered again. Grindelwalds voice curled like a deep maniacal purr around Newts given name. Like he couldn’t wait to tear it apart with the sheer force of his voice alone. He wished he’d put up a more impressive front around the dark wizard but as the older male pulled back to look him in the eyes Newt couldn’t help the gasp-like-squeak that came from his throat.

A warm hand caressed his cheek in tender grip and tilted his chin until he looked up into mismatched glittering eyes. There was a mad, intensely focused glint in his eyes. And If it didn’t frighten him so much he might have called it affection.

“It’s just you and me now, My love”

Newt felt panic grip his heart. Where was his case?

Prompt Post #2

FILL: Grindelwald/Newt Soulmates Part 1(maybe)