fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #1

Credence finds real Percival imprisoned in Grindelwald safe-house. Graves is half starved, half mad and needs protection from the world where his face was used by a villain.

Credence is torn between his old feelings for Graves (Grindelwald!Graves), his need to punish person with a face of his abuser and his growing feelings for a person who got hurt by the same wizard he was.

Seconded!

Grindelwald has the real Percival Graves somewhere in a safe house and he has all the incredients necessary for a Polyjuice potion. But assuming a man's identity begins with stealing his face, it doesn't end with it. He needs to know all that can be known about Percival - all his personal and professional secrets. Who he trusts, who he loves, who he dislikes, the cases he's worked on, past successes and fuck ups, even the not-so ethical things he's done and thought about. Every dirty little personal and professional secret an Auror in his position is bound to have.

But how do you go about breaking a man who is specifically trained to withstand that sort of interrogation? Legilimency? Physical torture? Emotional manipulation and blackmail? All of the above and more?

One thing is for certain - Percival Graves might have extensive training to resist torture and interrogation, but he's still a human being. And everyone have a breaking point. When Grindelwald is done, there's very little left of the proud, regal Auror.

Bonus points for noncon used as a tool of torture.

I was just about to prompt something very similar :]

Seconded!

Everything that's described in the prompt above happened. Graves has been found and rescued, but he's a shadow of his former self. He's broken, reeling, ashamed of what he's become, suffering from severe PTSD. His career is in shambles, as is his personal life. His colleagues pity him at best, and others think that he was weak to be captured and broken like he was, putting them all in incredible danger.

How do you recover from a trauma like that? Where do you find support and what kind of support do you find?

Bonus points for Newt/Graves or Credence/Graves. Please either gen or slash, no het. Thank you.

I would LOVE to read this! <3

NO GRINDELWALD!

After Tina does what she does with poor Credence's so-called mother head auror Percival Graves has to fire her...but in the process of investigating what happened he meets Credence - a lovely but severely repressed young man. He's attracted to him, there is no doubt about that. Despite his better judgement he seeks out the young man and befriends him even though he's not supposed to do that.

They spend time together, Graves takes him places - museums, restaurants, etc., all secret from Credence's mother, and their friendship deepens. One thing leads to another and one night they consummate their relationship in a hotel.

They are both terrified though, if for different reasons. Percival is head auror, he knows this relationship is forbidden and it could cost him his career and his social standing. Credence's stakes are even higher, for obvious reasons. Apart from getting beaten half to death and disowned and thrown out into the street he could even end up in jail for loving another man. Their situation is impossible yet they cannot help how they feel.

Does it all come out into the open with all the ensuing consequences? Does Graves manage to get Credence out of his abusive home? Does Credence's magic manifest, making it possible for them to be together?

A/N Okay, so this is probably going to be a bit more mean/angsty than anon prompted asked for, I hope that's not a problem.

**

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For as long as he’s known Tina Goldstein she’s been a fierce young woman, bright-eyed and resolute, never still. Now she’s slumping, defeated, eyes rimmed red and knuckles white as she seems to be grasping her wand with all the strength she has left.

“Tina,” he says, slowly. “You know how it is. I can’t keep you on.”

“That woman’s awful,” she says, with an ager he’s rarely heard in her voice. “Just awful, sir, I couldn’t just stand there, someone’s got to stop her…”

“Of course she’s awful,” Graves cuts her off, impatient. “She wants to kill all witches and wizards, doesn’t she? Burn us on the stake? But I expect that my Aurors have the self-restraint not to snap in the middle of the street like some No-Maj, and the brains not to get caught.”

Really, sometimes Graves regrets his own restrain, or whatever of his qualities is that makes him seem more righteous than he could ever be. Had the silly girl approached him with her intentions about that No-Maj preacher, he could have arranged something. He could have the woman delivered to some secluded place, to let Goldstein get rid of her baser urges, and then Obliviate her like it never happened – but it was too late for that. He had a professional reputation to maintain.

“Tell you what, Tina,” he went on. “If you can manage six months of good behavior – no insubordinations, no mistakes, no Second Salemers – I’ll see about having you reinstated. Only six months. Think you can do that?”

Goldstein nods, imperceptibly, and for a moment Graves thinks that’s all there’s going to be. But that’s when Tina has to run her mouth, just as always, and that’s when it all begins.

“She beats her son,” she says, barely a whisper, making Graves frown.

“Pardon?” he asks, leaning in.

“The Second Salemer, she beats her son,” Goldstein repeats. “She’s vicious. All of the children, but the oldest one the most. I had to heal him the other day, he was bleeding so much…”

Graves has to hold back a sigh, not entirely surprised. “And that’s why you attacked her.” He doesn’t pass judgement, no more than he already has. Goldstein nods again.

“Mr. Graves…” she begins. “Sir. Could you maybe go to him… and see if he’s okay? Please?”

He shouldn’t go. He really should not. It’s not concern of his, and he’s got better things to do with his time. But there’s something in Tina’s eyes that sparkles his curiosity, makes him want to see with his own eyes this boy she seems so concerned for.

“I might,” he says. “Six months, Tina. Don’t get yourself in trouble again.”

She scuttles along then, gratefully, leaving Graves with a task he doesn’t particularly want to put himself to. But he catches himself during the day thinking about it – twirling his wand in his fingers with the familiar gestures of a Disillusionment charm, rereading Goldstein’s reports on the Second Salemers once or twice during lunch – and in the end he finds himself deciding that it will be better for his peace of mind if he just goes along with it. He can have a look at the boy, see if he’s walking on his own two feet, get a measure of what all the fuss was about.

And then he can forget about it, and go on with his life.

It’s a solid plan, Graves thinks, and simple. Just once, just to see.

In the end, he only casts a subtle Notice-Me-Not charm on himself, just to make sure he won’t be singled out nor remembered, before he walks out in search of the preacher and her son. He doesn’t bother Disillusioning himself – it’s not worth the hassle, these days, not for anything but an official field mission.

Nowadays, he takes much less care to hide himself than he used to only two decades ago, or even less. It seems that as No-Maj technological abilities increase so does their pride – their unwavering belief in themselves, their assurance that there can be nothing in the world they couldn’t possibly explain. As their trains grow faster and their radios more powerful, their willingness to believe in magic seem to be decreasing by the year. It would make them that much easier to surprise them, Graves muses, should the need arise.

It’s harder than it should be to find a single meeting of nutters in New York, even knowing the location of the Salemers’ church and the area where they usually reunite. Everywhere Graves seems to look there are groups of No-Majs talking among themselves with hushed tones and darkened faces, looking concerned.

When he finds the woman, he recognizes her immediately. She’s shabbily dressed and unassuming, with a shrill voice that carries over the crowd and burning, intense blue eyes. At her side is a young girl, dressed in grey and with her hair tightly braided; she looks frail and sickly-pale, like a porcelain doll. The boy is nowhere to be seen – he’s older, Graves has read, the first child Mary Lou ever took in.

All of this he knows – the boy’s name and age, his tasks within the organization and the color of his hair, but he isn’t expecting the… shock he feels when he first sets eyes on him. The boy is looking straight at him, seeing him, and Graves curses himself silently for the slip. He hadn’t meant to let the spell slip. Maybe there’s something about the boy that distracted him, his sad air and curved shoulders, the way he’s standing skittish at the edge of the crowd, as if wanting to run away.

Still, the boy seems to be alive and well. Graves has seen what he needed to see and he could go now, but in the end he doesn’t and he doesn’t know why. He waits in silence, looking at the boy looking at him – the only one who does, in truth – not quite able to tear his gaze away. And even when the assembly is dismissed and Graves thinks to himself that he really ought to leave now – back to the office, perhaps, or home in time for an early dinner for once – even then he remains where he is, observing intently as the boy and the girl make their way around the departing crowd, answering questions and giving out leaflets.

It’s the boy who approaches him, eventually, as Graves had expected he would; the girl doesn’t seem to have seen him at all. Silently, he hands Graves a piece of paper – there are stylized drawings of flames on the first page, thick lines drawn crudely. WITCHES AMONG US, the cover screams, all capital letters and burning hellfires. Graves smiles wryly to himself and folds the pamphlet in half, putting it in his jacket pocket.

“Hello,” he says and the boy jumps, just a little bit. “What’s your name?”

“Credence,” the boys says. “Umh–” he stops, biting on his lip, as if trying to decide if he should go on, face flaming at his own awkwardness. Used to have his introductions done for him, Graves thinks, noticing with amusement how the boy seems to at least be aware that he should hold out his hand.

“Percival Graves,” he offers, grasping it, taking notice of the way the boy’s body seems to fold over himself at his touch. “Very good sermon.”

“Uh – my mother wrote it.” The boy’s staring up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable, and suddenly Graves doesn’t want to leave, not this soon.

“I’d be interested to know more,” he says. “About you – about your Church. Can I offer you a drink?” he asks, and Credence recoils – jumps even, if just a little bit. He has to laugh.

“Dinner, then,” he amends, frowning slightly at the very subtle headshake he gets as an answer. “Or even just dessert?” he asks, looking the boy quickly up and down, from his stained shoes to the blunt haircut. He doesn’t look like he indulges in something sweet that often –or at all, really.

“Just ice cream,” he says, again, and isn’t surprised when Credence finally nods. A hesitant, shaking nod, cheeks flustered.

“Thank you, sir,” the boy says, all soft tones and gratitude.

**

**

The rest of the chapter, with better formatting is @ http://archiveofourown.org/works/8731681
I'll keep updating this thread as the story goes on.

Credence doesn't have enough magical energy to maintain a corporeal form, so (either consensually or not) he latches on to Newt, and it slowly drains him.

Oh yas

Re: Credence/Newt - "Obscuri are parasites"

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Fill: Obscuri are parasites

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De-Anon'd on Ao3

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Credence subs. Consensually or not, I don't care.

a/n : hey i hope someone likes this. i wrote porn instead of sleeping.

She’s so gentle and discreet about reading his mind that it catches him off guard when she brings up his… perversions.

“Credence, sugar, it’s lots more common than people talk about!” Queenie is still smiling at him. They were alone in her apartment for the afternoon, Tina still at work. A soft jazz number floated through the parlor. It was comforting, like everything about Queenie, from her wand movements to her perfume, but it only reminded him that he didn’t want to pursue her. Credence wanted to revel in her soft sureness, and it made him duck his heating face to stare at his lap.

He could tell by the dip in her voice that she was frowning. “Being aggressive isn’t just for men, so it would be natural for some to not enjoy it, honey.” Even as he absorbed her words and saw the logic in it, Credence’s shame only intensified. He almost wished it was the Obscurus so he could stop humiliating himself, but that half whispered thought had Queenie gasping. “I-I didn’t mean it, Miss Queenie!” he blurted, jerking his head to meet her eyes.

Always driving potential listeners away, stupid boy. Keep your tongue still. If I hear you again today, that’s ten more lashes.

When he surfaced from the visceral memory, Queenie was kneeling in front of his chair, concern etched into every detail of her. “Sugar, I am going to ask you something.” Credence couldn’t help how his shoulders crumpled and his fists tightened in his lap. Of course after such an embarrassing display she would finally discourage his strange infatuation with her.

Queenie clucked her tongue and sighed. “Lotsa men want me, Credence, but they don’t want what I have to give.” She gently reached to cup his jaw, making their eyes meet. “You have needs, Credence. You want to please, but you get all mixed up on how that no matter what you do you think you failed."

Sometime during her quiet assessment, he closed his eyes. Her hands were softer than her spun-gold hair, and Credence could hardly believe she still wants to touch him after seeing all of his unwholesome desires.

"You see, sugar, you’re not the only one with such appetites. Do you know how many people every day wish they could give up control? To trust that they can fall apart?” Queenie’s voice had lowered to a gentle murmur, her other hand reching up to skim his cheekbones. Credence felt like he was on the edge of something unmeasurably tall, like he was toeing the fence guard on Brooklyn Bridge. He wanted to fall into the waves of Queenie’s voice. But he missed what she said next, and that mistake slammed him with panic. Her delicate hands held onto him as he tried to pull away from the siren call of that edge.

He opened his eyes after a few panting breaths. You will never be punished here, Tina’s voice reminded him firmly. You are an adult that needs help, not an errant child.

Not a child, but definitely not a man, he projected miserably. Miss Queenie, I don’t want to hold a woman down, I want to be held. I’ve-I dream of men. Caressing and courting me, being kissed carefully, like I’m-

“Precious, Credence. You want to be treasured.” Queenie shifted closer, reminding Credence that she was kneeling, like she was begging, and that thought curdled his gut. So when she tugged his arm, he slid down the chair to sit with her on the carpet.

“I’m a deviant. I can desire women but I want men. I rebel against God by not-” His flagellation is cut off by a firm hand. Queenie looked at Credence like she could see his soul.

"If you are a deviant for that, so am I.“

His entire body froze, as if trying to amplify his thundering heart. Credence tried to parse any other meaning to her declaration, but odd memories struck him- Miss Queenie, admiring a shopping attendant’s skirt very closely. Leaning on the makeup counter at Macy’s and smiling sharply.

Unbidden, words flew from his mouth. "Do you want the opposite of me?” Good God, Queenie holding him down instead of faceless men, cooing in his ear and, and touching-

He saw her bite her lip, and her gaze changed. Focused like he was the only other person on Earth. “Sugar, you need to tell me, out loud, what you want me to do. Or this stops here.” Her words rang in the parlor, startling Credence.

The thought of, of finding someone else like him, that mirrored his own wants, and then stopping? In a moment of clarity, Credence knew he would never initiate anything else if he backed away. So he leaned forward and kissed Queenie on her beautiful lips.

Credence had seen couples before, at night when walking home to the church. He had only a bit of practice with a street boy that stole his two day old bread out of his pocket during it.

Queenie giggled breathily, then moaned. He was surprised enough by the sound that he drew back. She copied his action, but moved to brace her arms behind her in a seductive lounge. “Aw, thanks.” Queenie dimpled. “But you still gotta tell me what’s what.” She cocked her head so the line of her pale throat was on display.

“IwantyoutopinmedownandkissmeonlyifyouwanttosorryMissQueenie.” Credence rushed out in one breath. Gulping as her dimples deepened and her eyes flashed, Queenie purred, “Sugar, I wouldn’t want anything else.”

- Indeterminate Timeskip! -

Credence flexed his arms and hips, gingerly testing the soft bonds. Madame had blindfolded him at the table after dessert, leading him carefully to the bedroom, undressing him all the while. When they didn’t give in the slightest, he struggled a bit harder, tugging, feeling the sting at his wrists and ankles.

“Baby.” Madame’s disappointed tone had him apologizing, but he was shushed. “I told you no pain tonight. But then I walk in and you’re disobeying me.” He let out a small whimper, knowing she would take pity on him.

"Oh, did my baby just get antsy? Shoulda Conjured up something to keep you occupied.“ Indeed, Madame had been gone for longer than Credence had expected.

She began walking from the doorway, voice stopping by her vanity. "Even so, you know what was expected. No immediate rewards for impatient boys.” He flushed with the rush of blood that pounded through him.

Oh, it would be that tonight. Credence would have to earn his release.

A manicured nail rain across his sternum, trailing off at his navel. That small touch had him filling out further, magnified by Madame’s happy hum. Just as his erection started to drain, those same nails pinched his nipple, waiting until he gasped before giving the other side the same treatment.

“Now, we are gonna play a game. You, baby, are going to plump up your lovely cock before I touch you again. You will have ten seconds to come from my hand on you.” Her voice was light, tone soothing him before the words sunk in. Credence huffed, not even attempting to stop the pout forming on his lips.

“Madame, can you talk to me?” He pleaded, starting to rub his thighs together.

“What a clever boy,” she sing-songed. “Found me right out of the gate. Alright, sugar. What do you want to hear? The Wren siblings were having another spat right in the office today.” Credence heard her settle onto the creaky vanity chair.

He shook his head quickly. “Wanna hear what the man you work with wants to do to me, you said yesterday he was-was touching himself.” Stumbling over words wasn’t punishable, but it didn’t help his effort to get as hard as possible.

Madame’s sultry chuckle, however, did wonders. “Oh, your secret admirer. I have only teased you about it, haven’t I? Never gave you anything juicy about him."

Credence heard the click of her nails as she thoughtfully drummed them. "Well, he usually starts by being frustrated, you know? Hasn’t had a good boy like you spread out on his bed in a long time. He can tell. From the way you obey me so well when you come to work. He’s especially jealous of the way you always look to me before doing so much as answering a question. And how attentive you are to me, almost waiting on hand and foot.” Madame’s voice curled into a smile when he begins rocking against the air.

"Remember last week, when you ran lunch to me and Teenie? He saw you lean over to pick up the papers I swept down there. That’s what he was imagining yesterday. He wanted to tell you to bend yourself over Teenie’s desk and demonstrate what I taught you. He’s mostly right about that, too. How you’re such a needy thing that you can’t go a day without something in your mouth. He wanted a show, baby. What show would you have given him?“

Credence moaned, back arching as he envisioned the stranger’s fantasy. "I plugged my hole before I went, Madame, like you said. I woulda been a good boy and bent over. Waited until you said to slip off my pants, show him that I was ready.” His legs curled up so his feet were flat on the bed. Erection filling enough to raise, Credence tried to bring his thighs together for friction, but the scarves stopped him. He thrashed sulkily, humping into the air without rhythm now.

“Baby. You said a show.” Madame reminded him, amused. He scraped his lip with his teeth and sighed, relaxing into the bed. Credence drew the soles of his feet together, sighing again from the stretch of his thighs. Beginning to circle his hips, Madame rewarded him with more information.

“Good, baby. But the thing that makes this stranger interesting, is that he wants you to open him up.” Credence stilled, eyes flying open from under the blindfold. Even when they were Queenie and Credence, not Madame and Baby, he was always submissive. A thrill ran from his spine to his erection as he imagined it. An older, handsome man looking at him with hooded eyes, begging Credence to give him his cock.

He could feel himself swelling further, and adjusted the roll of his hips. Would it be like when Queenie wanted him to bring her to release with just him, a steady beat with lingering hands? Or would it be like when Madame attached a phallus to her and told her baby to fuck himself silly?

God, this man shoving him on a desk in MACUSA and riding him like he had arrived there to give him this, fuck, not letting him finish, the cool ring Madame uses helping him serve the stranger. Madame watching, pleased, showing off her toy and letting others play, Credence laid flat as he’s straddled so one could use his mouth, slip into his ready hole, rough men with rougher hands who needed a whore to use-

"Madame!“ He wailed, hips snapping in a sloppy rhythm. Her hand was cupped around him a second before he came, tears escaping his eyes. His cock pulsed, Madame pulling his spend out of him. But even as he began to soften, she continued.

Credence whimpered, trying to angle his hips away to no avail. "What a big mess. You followed orders so well, but you forgot your purpose, baby.” Madame was whispering, and he could barely hear her over the roar of blood in his ears. His cock throbbed painfully even as it rethickened.

Credence sobbed, feet kicking out as his legs were freed from their restraints. “M-Ma-Madame,” he cried. She swiftly threw a leg over his squirming core, using his momentum to force him to sink into her wet heat. His arousal sharpened inside of him, expanding like lightening through his groin.

Madame pushed her weight onto his shoulders, knees digging into his sides as he fucked into her. He felt his tears slip down his nose as she raked her nails down his chest, her harsh breathing timed to his wild thrusts.

"C'mon, my pretty baby,“ Madame growled. "Fuck me like you would fuck your little beau.” She then settled her full weight on him, grinding hard into him.

Credence felt something rise up in him, unchained by his pained arousal. The scarves binding his arms fell away at the same time the blindfold did. He uses Madame’s surprise to buck off of the bed, gripping her waist to haul her along to the wall.

“I would fuck him like you taught me to fuck a whore,” he snarled, her walls tightening in climax as he bit into her lovely throat. Credence slammed into her as he joined her.

They both wobbled to the floor seconds later, Queenie nuzzling into his chest. He pulled the comforter from underneath the bed over them as they settled. Credence touched the vivid bite mark, concerned.

His lover smiled mischievously at him and winked. “Mercy Lewis, and I thought planning play time would be a bore.”

Re: Anyone/Credence - BDSM

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Re: Anyone/Credence - BDSM

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Newt didn't lie; he really is the occamies' mother, because he gave birth to them.

Ohh nice. +1

Re: Newt+creature, mpreg, optional body horror

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Re: Newt+creature, mpreg, optional body horror

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Ovoviviparity 1/?

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Now at AO3!

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Pairing optional, but I'd love to see Newt cross dressing! Bonus points for flapper dress!

+1!

(The Danish Girl may be rtyi, anon.)

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Tina/Newt, crossdressing FILL

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Re: Tina/Newt, crossdressing FILL

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We didn't get it in the movie, but I'd love for Queenie to be the one to figure out Graves' real identity. Perhaps she sees through him right away, or perhaps it starts out as "something isn't quite right..." and progresses. Bonus points off this culminates in a mind duel of some kind. Extra bonus if he's impressed by her power and tries to get her to join him.

Oooo, what an interesting plot twist! But one that makes total sense. The movie never really says or shows us how in the heck Newt figures it out.

Re: Queenie vs. Graves, legilimancy

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Re: Queenie vs. Graves, legilimancy

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Inspired by the amazing fill on the first page: Gravelert imprisons Newt, and upon finding out that Albus was... Fond of him tries to leverage Newt's safety to get Albus to join him. When that doesn't work he starts sending Albus locks of Newts hair.

Newt's lovely locks :(

Re: Albus/Gellert/Newt triangle + kidnapping

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Re: Albus/Gellert/Newt triangle + kidnapping

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I prefer to believe that Graves was never grindelwald, but whatever.

Would enjoy obscuris or evil credence to take out his pain, fear, and anger on Graves. Particularly because of Graves betrayal and manipulation.

Forgot to add NONCON

One of his beasts has aerosol pheromones or something!

Oh wow, this has really grabbed me. Working on a fill.

Re: Newt+any, sex pollen

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Fill, Newt/Jacob

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Real!Graves/Credence - Credence finds real Percival, angst

Re: Real!Graves/Credence - Credence finds real Percival, angst

The The Breaking of Percival Graves, torture, possible noncon

Re: The The Breaking of Percival Graves, torture, possible noncon

The The Breaking of Percival Graves, recovery

Re: The The Breaking of Percival Graves, recovery

Credence/Graves, forbidden love, sugar daddy

Fill: What Shines Through (1/18)

Credence/Newt - "Obscuri are parasites"

Re: Credence/Newt - "Obscuri are parasites"

Anyone/Credence - BDSM

Re: Anyone/Credence - BDSM

Newt+creature, mpreg, optional body horror

Re: Newt+creature, mpreg, optional body horror

Newt, cross-dressing

Re: Newt, cross-dressing

Queenie vs. Graves, legilimancy

Re: Queenie vs. Graves, legilimancy

Albus/Gellert/Newt triangle + kidnapping

Re: Albus/Gellert/Newt triangle + kidnapping

obscuris!credence/graves

Re: obscuris!credence/graves

Newt+any, sex pollen

Re: Newt+any, sex pollen

Dumbledore/Newt/Grindelwald, - they try to convince newt to side with their ideologies through sex

Re: Dumbledore/Newt/Grindelwald, - they try to convince newt to side with their ideologies through s

Anyone/Credence - omorashi

Re: Anyone/Credence - omorashi

Newt/any, oral

Re: Newt/any, oral

Original!Graves/Newt - Creature!Graves finds a fanboy

Re: Original!Graves/Newt - Creature!Graves finds a fanboy

Newt x Credence | bed-wetting

A/B/O – omega!Newt/alpha!Graves plus possible non/dub-con Newt/Grindelwald (long prompt is long)

Re: A/B/O – omega!Newt/alpha!Graves plus possible non/dub-con Newt/Grindelwald (long prompt is lon

Possible side story to above prompt. Alpha!Picquery/omega!Tina

Re: Possible side story to above prompt. Alpha!Picquery/omega!Tina

Graves/Credence, Secretary AU.

Re: Graves/Credence, Secretary AU.