Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Comments

Original!Graves, The Niffler - Best Friends

[(Anonymous)]

Much to everyone's surprise, original!Graves and Newt's Niffler actually end up becoming the best of friends.

Re: Original!Graves, The Niffler - Best Friends

[(Anonymous)]

Yes please!

Humor. GrindelGraves VS Paperwork

[(Anonymous)]

Or, in which taking over the life of a high level government official is not nearly as easy as it seems and what the hell does Act1895 Article 5 Subsection B1312 have to do with anything and why does it need to be in triplicate?!?!

Re: Humor. GrindelGraves VS Paperwork

[(Anonymous)]

Seconded!

Graves sings like an angel

[(Anonymous)]

So, Colin Farrell has a *great* singing voice (for example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UfXoIEBVYI) so Graves must have one too.
How does everyone find out? He sings to himself doing paperwork? To Credence? While undercover? Grindelwald discovers it post polyjuice and loves it because he can't sing at all in his own body?
(Or you've remember this JLU plot line (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncj-wpBhr5E) where Batman is forced to sing to save Wonder Woman. Don't tell me Circe isn't giving you Grindelwald vibes)

Re: Graves sings like an angel

[(Anonymous)]

A thousand points to your House for referencing The Best episode of JLU.

Animagus!Graves/Newt (slash or bromance)

[(Anonymous)]

Graves is an animagus who somehow gets stuck in his animal form. Newt is the one called upon to help save the day.

Magical Bakery! Queenie/Jacob

[(Anonymous)]

So Queenie and Jacob are courting, and Jacob totally has his memories back. They set up a bakery somewhere (maybe NOT NYC, because of the segregation - could be London, Edinburgh, Paris, Budapest, wherever) and Queenie makes Jacob's amazing pastries EVEN MORE AMAZING with magic - like, the niffler choux buns are animated, that kind of thing.

Basically I just want them being adorable, with baked goods.

Fill (ficlet): Customer satisfaction

[(Anonymous)]

This might not be quite what you asked for OP, but it's where my mind went when I wondered how non-wizards would react to animated baked goods... hopefully it at least delivers on the happy fluff???

---

The bakery door slams open so hard, it’s a wonder the little bell isn’t knocked clean off. Jacob gulps as a scowling woman storms over to the counter, tugging a young boy along behind her. She slams a paper bag down next to the cash register.

“I want a refund.”

Jacob glances around the store; Queenie looks over from where she’s rearranging the window display. He gives her a quick smile before turning back to the customer.

“I’m uh, I’m real sorry to hear that ma’am. We try to make sure all our customers are satisfied. What, what did you say the problem was?”

The woman leans over the counter, and Jacob takes half a step back. “It moved.”

Across the room, Queenie coughs.

“I’m sorry ma’am, did you say… your pastry moved?”

The woman narrows her eyes. “Listen buddy, I don’t know what kind of vermin you’ve got running around in here but this thing moved, I saw it with my own two eyes. I spent a whole quarter on this thing and my Jimmy refuses to eat it because it moves, he says, thinks it’s alive and I –”

Queenie appears beside the woman, taking her elbow gently. “I’m so sorry ma’am, there must have been some misunderstanding. Your son says the pastry moved, but you didn’t see it yourself?”

The woman tugs her elbow free and glares at Queenie. Jacob feels his shoulders tense.

“I didn’t – are you calling my Jimmy a liar? He’s a good honest boy and he saw – I bet it’s full of cockroaches, or Lord only knows what else, and I want a refund or I’m bringing the health inspector right down here, don’t you think I won’t! My husband –”

“Of course, of course, we’ll get your refund just right away, won’t we honey?” Queenie turns to smile at Jacob, stunning as ever, and he smiles back for a long moment before snapping into action.

“Right! Yes ma’am, one refund coming right up.”

“I should think so. Just appalling, that’s what this is, I – what?!” The woman snaps down at her son, who’s tugging on her sleeve.

“Mommy… what’s going to happen to him?”

“To who, sweetie?”

“To the… to Niff-niff.” The boy looks up at the wrapped package on the counter with wide eyes.
Jacob freezes, and slowly looks over at Queenie. She avoids his eyes.

“Well now,” Queenie says, scooping the package down off the counter and crouching down in front of the boy. “Let’s see how Niff-niff is doing first, shall we?”

The woman splutters. “Don’t you dare open that thing in here, it’s crawling with –”

“Why don’t you go take a look at the pains au chocolat? Jacob’s new recipe for them is just lovely.” Queenie flicks her wrist in a complicated gesture and the woman’s mouth snaps shut. Silently, she wanders over to browse the shelves.

“Now,” Queenie continues, smiling sweetly at the boy. “Jimmy, wasn’t it? You were worried about Niff-niff here?”

Jimmy nods, but he’s staring over at his mother. “How… how did you do that?”

Queenie winks. “Our little secret. Now, let’s take a look…” She peels back the paper bag to unwrap one of their famous niffler choux, perfectly browned on its little forehead and tummy. “There you are, Niff-niff. How are you doing?”

And the pastry moves, wrinkling its snout and turning its head before waving a paw at Jimmy. Jimmy stares, open-mouthed, and Jacob’s pretty sure he’s got an identical expression on his own face.

“Queenie, what…” Queenie cuts him off with a glance and a wink. Jacob snaps his mouth shut.

“You see Jimmy? Niff-niff is just fine. All tasty and ready for eating, right Niff-niff?” The pastry nods its head and Jimmy pales, backing away.

“I can’t – I can’t eat him, he’s alive!”

“Oh no honey, not alive – just animated with a simple –”

Jacob coughs. “Queenie, I’m not sure Jimmy understands your, uh, animation tricks.”

Jimmy has reached out a hand to poke the pastry niffler’s tummy, and it wriggles its little paws like it’s being tickled. He looks up at Queenie again. “Will he be okay, after mom sends him back?”

Queenie’s brow furrows for a moment, then she gets that Look in her eyes that Jacob knows all too well, and smiles. “Of course honey. You just leave everything to us. We’ll take Niff-niff out the back to play with all of his friends, once your mother’s gone.”

Jimmy grins and runs around to Queenie’s side to hug her. “Thank you! Mommy said she was gonna get rid of him.”

“Well that would be just awful, wouldn’t it Jacob?” Jacob blinks, and shakes his head.

“Yeah, sure, just awful.”

Queenie beams at him and gets to her feet, wrapping Nif– the pastry back up in its bag. Jimmy’s mother strides back over to the counter and takes Jimmy’s hand, glowering at Jacob expectantly.

“Ah, yes ma’am, here’s your refund in full. So sorry about the mix-up, it won’t happen again.”

“Hmph.” She turns on her heel without so much as a ‘thank you’, and Jacob bristles. “Come on, Jimmy. My friends are going to be hearing about this, just you wait. My husband will make sure you never get another customer in –” She pauses just by the door, blinking.

Jacob looks over at Queenie just in time to catch her slipping a hand back into her pocket.

The woman shakes her head. “What was I saying? Come on Jimmy, we have to get to the post office.” She ushers her son out of the store.

After the door swings shut behind her, Jacob stares at it for a long moment before turning back to Queenie. She’s got the pastry unwrapped again, and is scratching it under its chin.

“We need to have another talk about no-maj food.”

Credence/Graves - Powerbottom!Credence, dick riding

[(Anonymous)]

Bonus if Graves wasn't expecting that from Credence

Re: Credence/Graves - Powerbottom!Credence, dick riding - FILL

[(Anonymous)]

Whelp, I tried! Hope you like it.

----------------------------------------------

It's been going on for a while now, these meetings in an alley only few people seemed to cross on a daily basis. Somehow, it was always Credence who was waiting for the other, as if he had been there all day. Just waiting. He'd stand there, leaning against a wall with one shoulder and his head looking down at the dirt underneath his feet.

He would wait for Mr. Graves. Even when it's raining.

The elder met with the boy, his eyes changing from tired to empathetic when he found Credence shivering in the cold, soaked by the merciless rain that had been pouring down all day. He didn't say much more than a "Come with me." and Credence followed Mr. Graves to his home, where it was warm and dry.

Graves had let the boy undress by the fire in his living room. He'd even watched the boy do so. His eyes followed as Credence moved, watching how the boy's pale, scrawny limbs moved to peel wet clothes off his skin. He carefully hung everything on the backs of two chairs Graves had set down near the fire.

"Come here," Graves spoke, and Credence listened to him as if he was used to taking orders.

Credence didn't look up at the elder, just like always. His shoulders hung down and his head was facing the same direction. He looked at his host's bare feet under black trousers.

Graves reached out to touch the boy, first on his shoulder before he let his hand trail up to the side of his neck and his jawline. The elder couldn't help himself as he trailed his thumb over Credence's bottom lip, but only briefly. Credence didn't move and looked at the man's brow's instead of his eyes. It felt uncomfortable to look Mr. Graves in the eye.

"Tell me, Credence. When's the last time you had a tender hand touching you?"

"I... I can't really remember, sir."

-

Percival Graves wasn't an ordinary man. Where many his age had a family, or at least a lover, he had his work at MACUSA. None of his colleagues had even seen him around a woman, as if they didn't even interest him.

And they didn't, but that was Percival's own little secret.

One that Credence Barebone now knew as well...

Credence had said that he was cold and Graves had seen in the boy's eyes that it had been a while since Credence had been touched in a way other than one that hurts him.

A silence loomed around the place, threatening, as if someone had just died. The only indication that no one had died came from one of two bedrooms in this facility, where Credence Barebone was moaning under Percival Graves' natural spell. It wasn't even magic. It was just plain normal, Muggle worthy sex.

It was the last thing he'd expected when Graves first saw the scrawny boy on the street at nightfall so many days ago. He didn't look like someone who would enjoy this. To Graves, Credence seemed like the shy boy, the one you take home and force on his knees either to suck your dick or to fuck him from behind.

But Credence Barebone was different and nothing like that, and Percival Graves could almost feel his eyes roll back in his head every time the boy took him in again. Credence had straddled the man's waist, naked. Graves had only gotten rid of his pants, releasing at least half of his body from its confinements. He laid underneath the boy, his back pressed in the mattress of his own bed and his head leaning onto his favorite pillow.

Percival Graves would be lying to himself if he didn't dare to admit that this was perhaps his new favourite way of coming home after an extremely tiring day at work.

Credence Barebone would be lying to himself if he didn't dare to admit that this felt much better than the punishments he receives when he comes back home to be reminded of what sort of failure he is.

Right here, right now, Credence did not feel like a failure as he sank down on Graves once more, his flushed lips letting go of another soft moan that made the elder hum in pleasure. Credence moved slowly, feeling himself hurt at every inch he moved. This was new for the boy, the scrawny kid who lacked meals and sleep more often than not.

It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. It didn't feel anything like the pain his 'mother' puts him through and that's what made Credence continue.

He went on, and on, slowly and tenderly while Graves held him in his grasp, two big and warm palms holding Credence by his hips as the boy rode him.

Their eyes didn't meet once, neither did Graves look down at Credence to see if he, too, was feeling pleasure from this. What mattered most for Graves right now was that this kid could have a tender touch to remember, and warm clothes once he leaves again...

-

The next day, Percival Graves showed up at work, looking happier than usual and even smiling a bit when he left again in the evening. Credence would be waiting for him. Oh Credence, his Credence...

Graves+Tina (or Graves/Tina) - PTSD, recovery, h/c

[(Anonymous)]

After being rescued, Graves wasn't fired, but decided to quit anyway. Months later, Tina needs his help in solving a case off the books. She finds him drinking his sorrows away in a bar, scruffy and depressed ala Norrington in Pirates 2. She basically bullies some self-worth back into him while he deals with some severe unresolved trauma, and the two of them save the day.

Re: Graves+Tina (or Graves/Tina) - PTSD, recovery, h/c

[(Anonymous)]

scruffy and depressed ala Norrington in Pirates 2

Oh yes, please!

+1000000

Theseus and Newt: Scamander Twins

[(Anonymous)]

Theseus is indeed the elder Scamander brother. Elder by 16 minutes.

It's always easy to tell them apart by their attitudes and the way they carry themselves, but Theseus and Newt aren't twins for nothing. They've learnt how to impersonate each other's demeanor in a pinch.

Cue twin shenanigans.

[Fill] Theseus and Newt: Scamander Twins

[(Anonymous)]

Graves takes one look at Newt, standing quietly by her side, and turns an angry glare on Tina that has her wishing she could disappear.

'Where the hell is Scamander?' he demands, stepping forward so his words don't echo in the room.

Tina blinks but before she can muster an answer, Newt says in his soft voice, 'I'm right here Mr Graves?'

Graves growls - actually growls in a way that has Tina's insides quivering in fear - and turns on Newt. 'Newt Scamander,' he bites out, staring Newt down. 'Where is Newt Scamander and his army of escape artists?'

Newt looks taken back, his head tilted as Tina tries to wrap her mind around what Graves is saying... wait. Is Newt an imper-

'Oh no, don't tell me he brings his case in here?' Newt says with a groan, glancing up at the ceiling. He lifts his shoulders, and straightens his spine - and suddenly it's a completely different person standing next to Tina.

A person who looks like Newt and doesn't know Newt left his case at Tina's apartment, under Queenie and Jacob's watchful eyes.

'What gave it away?' Not!Newt asks, as Tina goes for her wand.

But Graves waves her away, relaxing his shoulders a touch. 'You met my eyes.'

Not!Newt blinks. 'But surely... Newt's known you through me for ages -'

'And the last time he saw my face, the person wearing it was trying to kill him,' Graves says in a matter of fact tone. 'Now, I repeat. Where is your brother?'

'Brother?' Tina looks from Graves to Not!Newt and back again, only realising she spoke aloud when both of them look back at her.

Not!Newt smiles. 'My brother, Newt. Twin brother. I'm Theseus Scamander, how do you do?'

He offers a hand to shake and Tina takes it, her mind still trying to wrap itself around 'brother'-

'They said you were his older brother,' she says accusingly, then feels the heat in her cheeks as she goes red.

Theseus just laughs. 'I am, by a whole sixteen minutes.'

Graves clears his throat and Tina lets go of Theseus' hand. Oops.

'Nice as this is,' Graves says, 'your brother is still on the loose in MACUSA headquarters.'

'His case is at my place,' Tina offers, deciding to leave the twin thing for now. 'He's only got a few creatures on him, as far as I know.'

The look Graves gives her makes her quivering insides start to shake her whole body, ice filling her veins. Yes, she really must be stupid to get that look from Graves.

'How did you even mix them up?' Graves looks from Tina to Theseus, a frown creasing his forehead. 'I thought you were with the British Ministry's party being briefed about Grindelwald on the top floor - you shouldn't have come down to Auror headquarters.'

Theseus shrugs. 'I was but I had to go to the privy. Got sent down a few levels to use it - something about a Niffler and shiny plumbing for the ones up there?' Tina manages not to flinch at the reminder of yesterday's debacle with Newt's creatures. 'Ran into the charming Tina on my way out and well...' He trails off with a smile and another shrug.

Graves goes white, there's no other way to describe the colour of his skin or the way his eyes widen. 'Tina, where was Newt - the actual Newt - before you ended up with Theseus?'

Shit. 'Umm, he'd just gone to the bathroom?' On the only floor with working bathrooms, thanks to his Niffler.

Theseus starts to laugh. Graves gives him a death stare that ranks in the top ten of his most dangerous and terrifying glares, which only makes Theseus laugh harder.

With a groan and wave of his hand for them to follow, Graves starts to walk - not run but at a pace so fast it's hard to tell the difference - out of the room. Theseus gestures for Tina to go first, with a wink.

How could she have ever mistaken this man for her Newt?

********

Graves doesn't bother knocking when he reaches the top floor briefing room, just barges in, Tina in his wake.

President Picquery isn't there and Tina's surprised at herself for expecting her to be. Picquery's probably having a private meeting with the British Minster for Magic somewhere more comfortable; while this looks like a bunch of middle management gossiping with another under the guise of information sharing.

It doesn't stop the blonde, slightly balding, and clearly full of himself, man at the head of the desk rising. 'What is the meaning of this?' he says in a British accent as others around the table rise.

Two seats down from him is Newt, who also rises but... There's something different about him. He stands tall, his shoulders as straight as Theseus' are and his gaze meeting Tina's with ease.

The difference takes her breath away. If Theseus wasn't standing outside and someone had introduced this Newt as his brother... Tina realises she might have believed them.

Of course a second later he quirks a smile at her, a familiar soft thing and looks down, before looking back up at her through his bangs. Just like he always does.

Tina has to fight to keep the warmth heating her up off her face.

'I think,' Graves says, drawing Tina's attention away from Newt to look at her boss. He's also focused on Newt, glaring at the man. 'I think,' he repeats, 'that you have misplaced something.'

Self-Important-Blondie follows his gaze to Newt. 'Mr Scamander?' He looks back at Graves. 'Are you... are you accusing Theseus Scamander of being an impostor? This is ridiculous, I have all my people! Just because your lot couldn't tell that they had an impostor in their mist doesn't mean I can't!'

Someone outside the room - Theseus obviously - starts to laugh, their voice floating in through the still open door. In his place at the desk, Newt also bites his lips and looks down, though Tina catches sight of the smile on his face as he does.

'What?' Self-Important-Blondie asks.

Theseus walks in the door and Self-Important-Blondie's jaw drops, looking from brother to brother. The rest of the room gasps, the two people either side of Newt rocketing backwards and drawing their wands.

Then Self-Important-Blondie sneers. 'An attempt to discredit me with Polyjuice Potion?'

Newt laughs, reaching a hand into his coat pocket and pulling out Pickett. 'Not quite,' he says, relaxing his shoulders and sort of melting back into the Newt Tina knows.

'Twins, Malfoy,' Theseus says.

'Surely you've not forgotten?' Newt adds, slipping out from behind the table. He passes Theseus, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a Swooping Evil.

Newt's Swooping Evil, if Tina's got the patterning right. 'Oh that's what that was,' Theseus says. Side by side, it's easy to see the differences between the brothers. How Newt seems shorter, with messier hair. How Theseus' smile is brighter and constant, but also far faker then any smile Newt's ever directed at Tina.

It's also easy to see their similarities. Namely, the fact they're wearing the same damned coat.

'Why the same coat?' Tina asks, then snaps her jaw shut as everyone in the room turns to look at her.

Newt and Theseus stare at another for a second before Newt answers, 'Because my brother is a rotten thief.'

'I think you've confused me with your Niffler.'

'I really haven't.'

Graves clears his throat. 'Now you're in the right place, I did actually need Mr Scamander - Newt Scamander,' he quickly adds when both brothers rise their eyebrows at him. He nods at Self-Important-Blondie. 'I'll leave you to it.'

Without another word, he turns and leaves.

Theseus raises an eyebrow. 'Dinner tonight Newt?'

'Oh yes. Ah,' Newt gives Tina a desperate look, 'that is, if Tina and Queenie won't mind-?'

Tina has to swallow a laugh. 'I'm sure she'd be fine with you both coming for dinner.' Newt beams at her and Tina ignores how it lights up every part of her with warmth. 'Now come on Newt, we're needed.'

Newt scrambles out of the room, Tina a step behind, leaving the dumbfounded wizards to Theseus.

Dinner tonight is going to be fun.

Newt/Crossover Characters REPLACING Leta L. Crossover AU

[(Anonymous)]

If characters from other universes had been Newt's old friend/flame instead of Leta Lestrange. Like Carmen Sandiego. Or Phryne Fisher. Or Irene Adler. Or ...you get the idea. Single sentence fills just as awesome as big ones.

Re: Newt/Crossover Characters REPLACING Leta L. Crossover AU

[j_gabrielle]

PHRYNE FISHER. YES PLEASE.

Credence/Dumbledore/Grindelwald- Defining Relationships, polyamory

[(Anonymous)]

Credence thought Dumbledore and Grindelwald were sharing him. Dumbledore thought he and Credence were sharing Grindelwald. Grindelwald thought he owned Credence and Dumbledore. All are wrong.

Jacob/Queenie, 50 First Dates AU

[(Anonymous)]

It's possible this has been posted and I just missed it, but...

Jacob and Queenie fall in love at first sight. The only problem is, after some kind of canning factory accident, Jacob forgets everything since it every night. Fortunately, not only is Queenie very easy to fall in love with, she also has the skills to know exactly how to address his concerns on any given day.

Re: Jacob/Queenie, 50 First Dates AU

[(Anonymous)]

OH GOD SOMEONE DO THIIIIIIS

Dumbledore/Grindelwald- Thank You, fellatio

[(Anonymous)]

Dumbledore either willingly or through coercion helps Grindelwald take over the world. Grindelwald thanks him by sitting him on his throne and giving him head.

Newt/Original!Graves: They're Both Werewolves

[(Anonymous)]

Newt was bitten by a werewolf on his travels. He's adjusted quite well to his new status - he spends his full moons in his case, surrounded by magical creatures who are all too happy to groom and play with him.

After the entire Grindlewald fiasco, when the original Percival Graves is found and rescued - he and Newt take one look at one another and know.

Re: Newt/Original!Graves: They're Both Werewolves

[(Anonymous)]

seconded so hard i think i broke something seriously, can someone help me up from the floor?

[tw: RAPE + VICTIM BLAMING] Credence/Grindelgraves, what would your mother do?

[(Anonymous)]

Credence still hasn't found the child but naively asks Graves if he can see some more magic. Cue Grindelgraves losing his temper, asking what Credence's mother does when he fails and following through with giving Credence a belt-lashing that'd make Mary Lou proud.

Then the added headfuck of Grindelgraves bending Credence over and raping his sorely beaten and bruised ass while telling Credence how much he cares and it's all Credence's fault that he's doing this.

RACCOON PATRONUS BONUS: The only reason Grindelgraves doesn't summon the obscurus is because he does show Credence some magic - the obliviate spell.

Graves/Newt, Newt/Others, Theseus- Learning to Trust, angst, h/c, past abuse, arranged marriage

[(Anonymous)]

During the time period of the film, the wizarding world has laws that make it the head of a household's decision who the other members marry. The younger members have no legal say in who they marry (although they can be granted a divorce in cases of abuse or infidelity).
Newt has been married at least twice before, each time to someone who treated him terribly. Just before the movie, Theseus became head of the household. Theseus genuinely cares for his little brother and just wants him to be with someone who treats him well. Because of this, he decided to ask his penpal, Graves, to marry his brother, because he knows he's a decent guy. Graves, feeling sorry for Newt and wanting to help out his friend, had agreed. However, by this point, Newt's too traumatized and wants nothing to do with arranged marriages anymore (maybe not even relationships in general).
He sets off running from the engagement, traveling from place to place because if he stays in one country too long, the wizarding government might force him to go back to England and get married.
The events of the movie happen, and Graves is rescued. MACUSA keeps Newt from leaving at the end, with the intention of forcing him to go through with the marriage. Graves, however, demands that they let Newt go, because he agreed to the engagement to help Newt, not to traumatize him further, and now that Newt helped save Graves and all of New York, the least they can do is let him come and go as he pleases.
Newt leaves, but grateful for Graves's gesture, starts a correspondence with his fiancée, and they become friends, maybe slowly evolving into something more.

Re: Graves/Newt, Newt/Others, Theseus- Learning to Trust, angst, h/c, past abuse, arranged marriage

[(Anonymous)]

Yes Please

Gen, period attitudes

[(Anonymous)]

I've seen this idea floated in other prompts as a side-idea, but I kind of want to see it explored, so...wizards have entirely different ideas and prejudices to wizards. They're still prejudiced against Muggles and magical creatures and so on, but race and gender and sexuality are just...non-issues, don't even register. But they still have to live cheek-by-jowl with a Muggle world where these things are massive, massive issues. How does this affect people's lives if, for example, Picquery is respected and highly thought-of among wizards, but treated disparagingly in the Muggle world. If same-sex married couples have to constantly remember what the social norms are in the Muggle world and why they can't be open about their relationship in Muggle areas, and so on and so forth.
Bonus points for:
- Some exploration of the differences in prejudices - house-elves, goblins etc are still treated badly, but wizards don't notice the hypocrisy in condemning Muggle attitudes.
- Jacob learning to navigate the differences because of his relationship with Queenie.
- Newt/Graves or Tina/Picquery would be nice, but not necessary.

Newt/Grindelwald, ABO, non-con

[(Anonymous)]

Magizoologists are rare creatures, and what dark lord wouldn't want someone with the ability to control beasts in his army?

In which Newt is both a magizoologist and an omega, and Grindelwald has no other option than to claim such a specimen.

Re: Newt/Grindelwald, ABO, non-con

[(Anonymous)]

Please, someone do this!

Credence/Real!Graves, scars

[(Anonymous)]

I have no shame and I know it's a syrupy trope, but can I get some scar worship porn with these two, please? My soul for Credence getting all of the loving palm and back kisses he certainly needs. And for Graves to be completely ruined by Credence finding and tracing all of his scars. Especially if Graves picked up a few crucio marks during his captivity. And extra especially if one of those crucio marks happens to be close enough to Graves' dick for Credence to keep stroking the scar while blowing Graves.

Re: Credence/Real!Graves, scars

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, yes, seconded!

Mary Lou / Credence rectal temperature

[(Anonymous)]

Credence hasn't been feeling well, and he's starting to feel feverish. When he goes to Mary Lou with his concerns, she tells him there's only one way to find out if he really has a fever.


Super Shame Bonus if she takes his temperature and decides that he's not really sick, and punishes him for pretending to be ill in order to shirk his duties.

MINIFILL Re: Mary Lou / Credence rectal temperature

[(Anonymous)]

Credence wakes out of a nightmare of screams and darkness and rushing wind, his heart pounding and his skin clammy with sweat. He knows that he hasn't truly just fallen from the air to slam into the mattress, because that is not possible, but for a long, terrible moment he can barely remember his own name, and he could almost swear that...but it was a dream. It had to be a dream. A thrilling, terrible dream.

He stares blankly up at the crack in the mildewed ceiling for a long moment and tries to gentle his breathing, then gets shakily to his feet and pads barefoot to his mother's room.

He stares at the door uncertainly before knocking; Momma doesn't like to be disturbed. But Credence can't stop trembling. It's been bad before, but never this bad. Not since before the orphanage, before the fire...

He knocks on the door, and sways where he stands, clutching at the wall for balance. He wants...Credence doesn't quite know what he wants, that he might hope to get: a kind word, a gentle touch, a warm blanket tucked in by a loving hand; a bowl of chicken soup; a lullaby. Credence wants somebody who loves him to tell him it will all be alright again, and make him believe it. His heart feels like a fist squeezing tight in his chest.

"Momma?" He rasps, half-afraid to wake her but still painfully hopeful. He's so tired, and his head is still spinning...

"Credence?"

He blinks open heavy-lidded eyes that he can't recall closing and stares stupidly into her familiar face. Its angles and planes look strange and ghostly in the moonlight. He really must be coming down with a fever.

"Momma, I..."

"I'm not your mother," she snaps, and he flinches.

"Sorry - I'm sorry. I - I think I'm sick, ma'am," he says. "I feel all wrong."

She eyes him narrowly for a moment, then beckons him into her room. It smells of carbolic soap and the sachets of dried lavender she uses to sweeten the laundry.

"We'll see about that," she says, crouching down and fishing around under the bed. Credence stares at the unexpected curves of her bottom tightly outlined by the thick white fabric of her nightgown, then squeezes his eyes closed, scandal curdling his blood. He is going to burn in hell.

"Here." Credence is feeling faint again when he opens his eyes; he feels like he could float right up to the ceiling, like he could dissolve into air. It takes him a moment or two to make sense of what he's looking at; then he opens his mouth meekly for the thermometer, but his Momma shakes her head.

He doesn't understand. "...what?"

"Bend over."

"...what?"

"Bend over, Credence."

Credence knows his eyes are like saucers and his face is frozen; he can feel himself going still and small, hoping to be somehow unseen. He swallows. Momma's face is dangerous; disobedience is unthinkable, and so Credence bends over, baffled but desperately placating.

His shock when she briskly flips his nightshirt up and exposes his goosepimpled buttocks to the night air is so great that he thinks his heart actually stops beating for an instant.

"MOMMA!" He gasps in spite of himself and at that she slaps his bare bottom with the flat of her hand so hard that he stumbles, and almost falls. "Sorry ma'am," he says, half-sobbing.

He doesn't know what he feels. There is a roaring in his ears and his skin is stinging where she struck him, chilly where she didn't; there is a traitorous stirring and warmth between his thighs that will get him beaten bloody if she notices it, and he's poised between stark terror and desperate yearning for something he can't put into words.

"Stay still," she says, so he does. His face is scalding with shame, feeling exposed in ways he can't express; he doesn't understand why she's making him do this; he wishes he'd stayed in his own room. "Only one way to know if you're shirking," she mutters, and then, to his delirious bliss and abject horror, she lays one cool hand on the stinging flesh of his bottom. Her thumb curves around and under, pinching his flesh and spreading his buttocks apart. Credence shudders. He is hard now, unambiguously hard, his penis pressing warm and rigid against his belly. He wants to cry. He wants to crawl out of his skin and hide somewhere.

And then he cries out, shocked at the violation of the cold glass thermometer pressing into his tightly clenched hole. He tries to recoil, but she is still holding him tight and pulling him open and in just a few seconds the thermometer is jammed all the way inside him.

Credence whimpers like a trapped animal.

"Stop whining," she says, holding him in place. Her breathing has quickened ever so slightly. "I need to know the truth, boy." She is standing right behind him, her body warmth bleeding through the fabric of her nightgown. Her hand moves a little, stirring the thermometer inside him, and he gasps despite his best intentions, his buttocks flexing and his penis twitching against his belly. He wants to touch himself with a baffled, desperate urgency, but when she leans closer, curving her body to fit over his, he freezes as still as any marble statue. Her breath tickles the nape of his neck and her breasts swing close enough to graze his spine through the double layer of fabric.

"Are you thinking ungodly thoughts, boy?" She whispers as she slides the thermometer out, then thrusts it viciously back inside. Credence lets out a startled sob as it knocks against something inside of him which sends a jolt of pure intense sensation screaming through his nerves, and he reaches blindly up to clutch his slick-tipped penis in a convulsive grip. He doesn't want to do the bad thing - mustn't do the bad thing! But he feels like he might fly apart at any moment.

"Please..." He gasps, not sure what he's begging for, exactly. "PLEASE, Ma'am!"

"Are you a dirty, wicked boy, Credence?" She asks, her voice going hoarse as she pulls the thermometer out and then pushes it back in again. "Are you lying to me?"

"No! No, ma'am! I would never..." He cannot help himself; his hand is tugging at his hard dick, rough and awkward, as she pushes the thermometer into him.

When she pulls it all the way out he feels terribly empty. His hand pauses, and then he remembers himself, and where he is, and terror flows through him again; he hurriedly lets go. He begins to straighten, but her hand presses down on his spine.

"No you don't," she says. He shivers. There is a pause. "Well...perhaps a little fever," she acknowledges, then slaps his bare flesh with a suddenness that is startling. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, shuddering; for a panicked second he is afraid he might spill onto the floorboards; he knows that if she realises he is hard, her rage will be beyond imagining. "It's only a LITTLE fever. Not worth all this whining. You should take it like a man."

"Yes, ma'am," he breathes, staring at the floor and willing his wretched flesh to go quiescent once more. "Sorry, ma'am. May I stand now, ma'am?"

"Of course, you fool. Go back to bed, and pray to the good lord for forgiveness," she says.

Credence curves cautiously back to his feet, hunching a little and keeping his hands in front of his groin. He doesn't look at her, afraid of what his face might betray. "Good night, ma'am," he says. His head is still spinning, but now his whole body feels like it is vibrating, feels flushed and feverish and a-tingle with prickles of unspeakable desire. He stumbles out of her room and closes the door behind him without ever once meeting her eyes, then lurches back to his own room as if he is sleepwalking. Sweat beads his forehead.

When he is once again inside his own room, with the door closed, he yanks up his nightshirt as he stumbles towards the small, hard bed, pawing frantically at his rigid erection with clammy, trembling fingers. It's wrong, he knows it's wrong, but he is weak and wicked and bound for hell, and as his back hits the mattress his thoughts are a confused whirl: the curve of Momma's bottom under the white nightgown; the pressure of the thermometer sliding into his ass; the face of that man today, with the sinfully cut coat and the proud face. He wants....he wants...Credence. Has no words for what he wants, beyond release. He wants something beautiful, something impossible and glorious and tender. He wants to be free.

He comes with a stifled gasp, and for a dazzled moment he is boneless, nameless, guiltless, beautiful; for a dazzled moment he has no flesh or wickedness; for a dazzled, joyful moment he simply IS, and that is enough.

Then he comes back to himself, and the shame is excruciating. Credence curls onto his side, buries his face in his pillow, and sobs as if his heart might break.

Graves/Grindelwald - Punishment, Torture, Non-Con/Rape, Cum Denial

[(Anonymous)]

Graves is Grindelwalds Prisoner, but he wouldn't be Graves if he hadn't tried everything to escape. Luck seemed to be on his side, because Graves is able to break through his chains.

But he doesn't get far, Grindelwald catches him again and decides he needs to punish his prisoner to remind him who's the boss. He curses Graves so he is constantly on the edge but can't cum.

Bonus:

+ unbroken Graves who still fights Grindelwald in every aspect
++ amused Grindelwald for the escape attempt, before losing his shit
+++ Graves fighting the curse the best he can
++++ Grindelwald likes to fuck rough

Re: Graves/Grindelwald - Punishment, Torture, Non-Con/Rape, Cum Denial

[(Anonymous)]

Someone anyone please fill this

one-sided Graves/Theseus, Graves/Newt, twin Scamanders, angst and fluff

[(Anonymous)]

A year or two before the film events, Graves was smitten by Theseus Scamander - brilliant, easygoing, successful Theseus.

Time passes, and post-film Graves meets with Newt and falls in love again. His capitivity has left traces, and Graves loves everything in Newt that is Newt - his gentleness, care, sensitivity. But then someone tells Newt Graves used to carry a torch for his twin and trouble meets Paradise - with Newt angsting that he's just a replacement for charismatic Theseus, and probably a shoddy one.

Graves doesn't realize this at once, but when he does, he makes sure Newt knows he is loved and cherished for himself.

(If you'd rather cast Theseus as an older brother than a second-born twin, I'm fine with that too!)

Re: one-sided Graves/Theseus, Graves/Newt, twin Scamanders, angst and fluff

[(Anonymous)]

ohhhh I am HERE for this

Graves/Newt, crying

[(Anonymous)]

Newt cries and Graves has no idea how to handle it. They can be in an established relationship or not but I just think the idea of Graves panicking the fuck out is hilarious

Minifill: Soothing Newt (Graves and Newt)

[(Anonymous)]

Newt had run on ahead. That worried Graves, but he knew that he couldn’t let it distract him in the middle of a duel. He shot another hex at the gang of smugglers who had been transporting magical creatures across the continent. The magizoologist was here to help with the creatures, but he was meant to be staying back.

He flicked his wand again, stupefying the last of the men, and let the rest of his aurors handle it. He had to go and make sure Newt hadn’t got himself eaten by a dragon or something equally stupid. Every time he let Newt out of sight, he waited for some kind of disaster to start, and was rarely disappointed.

He tried to walk slowly. He wasn’t going to run, not for Newt.

He heard a sob, and then he broke out into a sprint, freezing when he saw Newt in the doorway. There were a number of cages around him, which he had opened, and he was cradling a number of things to him. There was a wizard with a wand pointed at Newt. Newt hadn’t noticed, so Graves stupifed him and then threw him out into the hallway, walking over towards Newt.

“Hey…” He murmured. “Newt?”

Newt sobbed, and burrowed his face into the fur that was in front of him, making soft whimpering sounds. Graves hesitantly reached out, patting him awkwardly.
“What’s wrong? Did he hurt you?”
“He hurt.. he hurt them…” Newt explained, holding up a handful of small snakes – Occamy, that was it. They were missing some scales. “He was harvesting…he was harvesting them….” And there was a bowtruckle with what looked like burn marks, a fwooper with missing feathers, and a suspicious bulge in Newt’s shirt.

“What you got there?”
“Niffler.” Newt mumbled, crossing his arms over the creature and rocking backwards and forwards slowly. “He… he…” He sobbed, and Graves looked around, wishing there was another auror. Where was Tina when he needed her, she could deal with tears. But no, the others were still busy with tidying up.

“Let me have a look…” He demanded, then frowned as the creature was held up. It cowered from him, trying to return to Newt’s arm. There was a deep cut across its stomach – to retrieve something it had pilfered he supposed. He ran his hands over the beast, healing the worst of its wounds, and Newt sobbed again, clutching the Niffler tight in one hand and Graves in the other.

Awkwardly, Graves patted Newt on the head and tried to shush him. Tina would arrive soon. The creatures would be fine. He just needed Newt to calm down.

Graves/Grindelwald- Visitor, angst, h/c, possible molestation

[(Anonymous)]

Post-film, Graves is rescued and goes back to work. Somehow, he gets injured while on a case, and ends up in the hospital. Grindelwald (who's escaped by this point, because, let's face it, he was probably in custody for all of 24 hours) pays him a visit. Graves, too injured to even move around that much, can't do anything about it.

Note: I'd prefer no rape (as in penetrative sex). That being said, nonconsensual touching is still on the table.

Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Visitor, angst, h/c, possible molestation

[(Anonymous)]

Merry Christmas OP. Hope you like it

'I told you Tina, go home.’ Percival insisted, inwardly groaning at the tell-tale click of the door swinging shut. His arm was strewn haphazardly across his face as he attempted to block out the chaotic bustling in the hall outside.

He thought he had convinced the exhausted auror to go home and get some rest. Tina had been faithfully watching over him since he had been admitted to the hospital two days beforehand. A raid on a smuggler’s warehouse had gone south when a stray curse resulted in the warehouse erupting in flames. Thankfully no-one was fatally injured, but Percival’s left femur was so completely shattered that even magic would take a few days to heal it. Tina had felt horribly guilty; Percival had shielded her from the brunt of the blast.

A loud clang outside made him groan. A Silencing Charm, for the love of God. They were not that difficult. Percival would have cast it himself if his wand wasn’t reduced to ash. To be honest, Percival hadn’t minded her hovering as much as he pretended. It was nice to know someone did care, and he had grown to hate hospitals. But still, this was ridiculous. Tina needed to get some sleep. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Hmm, she is a persistent one, Miss Goldstein. We must give her that.’

Percival felt a shiver run up his spine. His blood froze in his veins. Arm trembling slightly, he uncovered his face. It couldn’t be him. This was a dream. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t him. If there was a God above, he wouldn’t subject Percival to this.

There was no God. Percival found himself face to face with the face that had haunted his dreams for so long. It had been months until Percival no longer woke in cold sweats, the brush of phantom fingers ghosting across his body. Until he filed it away under nightmares he had no intention of reliving. But what do you do when the nightmare makes a reappearance in the flesh?

Percival swallowed past the swelling lump in his throat and fought back a wave of panic. He eased himself up into a seated position, in the process shifting his shattered leg. He fought to hold back the moan threatening to spill past his lips and suddenly Grindelwald was in his face. A single finger was pressed to his lips, his chin clutched in an iron grasp.

‘Shhh, hush now, Percival. We wouldn’t want to alarm the dear nurses outside. It would be a shame if someone were to interrupt us right now. Just sit back and relax, dearie.’

An all too familiar feeling of nausea swept over Percival at the sound of his name coming from those lips. The way Grindelwald rolled it about his mouth, tasting each and every syllable, toyed with it the same way he had toyed with Percival himself. The grip on his chin tightened as Grindelwald gave him a meaningful look. Percival nodded reluctantly, showing his understanding of the implicit threat.

Grindelwald smiled, the grin too wide and manic to be pleasant. The grip on his chin relaxed. The finger pressed to his lips was replaced by the soft brush of a thumb sweeping across them. And then as suddenly as he had descended on him, Grindelwald was gone. He straightened up from his position hovering over a vulnerable Percival and summoned the chair from across the room with a careless wave of his hand. Settling himself on the cheap plastic chair the way a king would sit upon a throne, he cast his intent gaze over Percival. A predator studying his prey.

Percival cleared his throat. ‘What in Merlin’s name are you doing here, Grindelwald?’ He took pride in the fact that his voice didn’t waver once. Grindelwald hummed thoughtfully.

‘Why, I’m here to check up on my favourite auror. I heard you got yourself into a spot of bother and wanted to make sure you were quite alright.’ Percival snorted.

‘And I’m supposed to believe you care about me?’ Grindelwald clucked his tongue reprovingly at his tone.

‘I care about what’s mine, Percival. And whether you like it or not, you’re still mine.’

Percival shook his head violently, a loose strand of hair flopping in front of his face.

‘I’m not yours.’ He spat, inwardly flinching at the cold anger settling behind Grindelwald’s eyes. He fought back an urge to apologize, to attempt to appease this man. He was not this man’s puppet anymore.

‘Oh, but you are.’ To anyone else, Grindelwald might have seemed perfectly calm, his tone utterly indifferent. But Percival had spent enough time with this man to sense the coiling fury behind the apathetic tone. ‘A lesson I had to teach that unfortunate smuggler who resulted in your injury. He screamed so pathetically. He didn’t beg anywhere near as prettily as you do.’

Grindelwald leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His voice dropped low, the words spinning a disturbingly vivid painting in Percival’s head.

‘First I shattered his leg. Fair’s fair after all. You should have seen it. The bone fragments were sticking right out of his leg.’ Grindelwald chuckled. Percival swallowed back a wave of nausea. ‘Then I thought, waste not, want not. So I made his bones tear themselves free. Oh, how he bled. I had the bone shards bury themselves in his thieving hands and pin him to the ground, much like that fool the Muggles worship was pinned on the cross.’ Grindelwald’s eyes danced with manic flames. Percival was definitely going to be sick.

‘But my favourite part, I saved for last. I found an interesting little concoction among some of his ill-gotten goods. Have you ever wondered how long it takes for a human body to be completely devoured by acid? It takes quite a bit longer than you might guess. And, of course, I kept him conscious throughout the whole experience. Not much of a lesson if he got to sleep through it.’

Percival was trembling now. His stomach rolled at the terrible image seared into his brain. Grindelwald shook his head, as if waking from a dream, and rose to his feet. One hand began to tenderly comb through Percival’s hair, petting him the same way one might pet a dog.

‘Oh, there’s no need to look so frightened sweetest. It’s not your fault you’ve forgotten who you belong to. Those fools at MACUSA have made you forget your place. No matter, no matter.’ The fingers in his hair suddenly tightened, yanking his head back with a jolt. Manic eyes bored into Percival’s, staring right into his soul. ‘I’ll just have to remind you.’

Percival found his arms pinned to the bed by an immovable force. He strained against the magic holding him down, gritting his teeth against the pain emanating from his leg. Grindelwald seemed amused by his struggles.

‘You always did fight me Percival. Right to the very end. I admired that about you. But,’ his voice took on a scolding tone. ‘You shouldn’t exhaust yourself so, in your current condition.’

Percival ground his teeth. ‘What. Do. You. Want.’ Grindelwald smirked. With a careless wave of his hand, Percival found his chest bare, the loose cotton shirt he had been wearing, gone. ‘What are-’

‘Now, now, pet, pay attention. I told you. I’m going to remind you who you belong to.’ Grindelwald’s hand roamed freely across Percival’s chest. Left behind were trails of fire thrumming under his skin. Everywhere Grindelwald touched felt electrified. Percival bit his lip to keep from giving Grindelwald the satisfaction of crying out. It was agonizing. Glancing down, he saw thin streams of dancing red light searing along his body in the wake of Grindelwald’s touch.

‘No matter who you are with, I will always have been there before them. You are always going to feel my touch, the way I made your body come alive. Whenever anyone else touches what’s mine, you’ll feel my fire burning under your skin. And know. Who. You. Belong. To.’ He punctuated his final sentence by lowering his head to Percival’s bare chest, breath ghosting along his flesh.

Grindelwald mouthed his way up the trembling expanse of flesh on display. Then, without warning, he buried his teeth into Percival’s shoulder. Percival cried out, a combination of the shock and pain. Grindelwald simply grabbed his chin and shoved his mouth shut with an audible clack of teeth. He continued to gnaw at Percival’s shoulder, tongue flicking out to lap up the seeping blood.

It felt like an age from his latching onto Percival, until Grindelwald was gone, straightening up and grinning. His chin was coated in blood, lending to his nightmarish aura. The blood dripped freely, splattering onto the floor and Grindelwald licked his lips.

‘My, my, dearest. You taste exquisite. Now, thank me.’

Percival forced out a weak snort. ‘And why exactly am I thanking you?’

Grindelwald gave a positively delighted chuckle. ‘Why, for giving you a reminder as to who owns you. I decided you needed a more permanent reminder. A mark of ownership, so to speak. There’s a little trick I’d been meaning to try for a while. I made sure nothing will ever heal away the scars left by my bite.’

Percival thumped his head back against his pillow. Merlin, he was so tired. Why couldn’t this maniac just leave him be? Hadn’t he ruined Percival’s life enough? Grindelwald swiped his index finger along his lips, smearing it in blood. He wiped Percival’s own blood across his lower lip, already swollen and red from when Percival had bit back cries of pain.

‘No one will ever have you, Percival. You bear my touch, my mark. I will always be able to find you. You are mine. To torment, to play with, to possess. Whatever I want. You don’t get to leave me, ever. Now,’ his voice grew cajoling, similar to a parent with a stubborn child. ‘Say thank you.’

Percival spat in his face.

‘Fuck. You.’

Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. ‘Well, if you want to be vulgar about it. Imperio!’

Percival gritted his teeth as he felt the power of the spell sweep over him. The urge to obey, to let those two little words slip out was overwhelming. He railed against it with every fibre of his being, swallowing back choked syllables and half-words. His rebellion seemed to prove a source of endless entertainment to Grindelwald. He simply waited, eyes never leaving Percival’s. Percival fought and fought and fought. He fought until he wondered if he was going to pass out. He fought until he wished he could just pass out. And yet it wasn’t enough.

Under the full brunt of the Imperious curse, Percival choked out ‘Thank you.’ It was demeaning and humiliating and he blinked back a sudden onset of tears. This bastard wasn’t going to take that from him. Said bastard was smirking down at Percival. God, Percival felt so small right at that moment.

‘You’re quite welcome darling.’ He had the nerve to say. ‘Now, I must be off. Do give my love to Madam President. Or don’t. I think I’ll let you decide if you’d prefer this little encounter to remain our secret. Take care now, Percival dear.’ After giving Percival a mockingly tender kiss on his forehead, he Disapparated away.

With him went the magic pinning Percival down and he found himself free to move. With shaking fingers, he probed the deep teeth marks along his collarbone and hissed. Just barely low enough to be hidden by his shirt, thank small mercies. However, it was just another way Grindelwald had taken control away from Percival. God, why didn’t he get to choose anymore. Nothing had been his choice, not since that night that bastard had stolen his life. Curling his uninjured leg up close to his body, Percival rested his forehead against. Doing something he hadn’t done in years, not since he was a child, not even while he had been tortured and tormented by a psychotic maniac, Percival cried.

Original!Graves/Twin!Scamanders - Threesome

[(Anonymous)]

Original!Graves, much to his surprise, is in a relationship with the Scamander twins, Theseus and Newton.

The rest of the MACUSA is /also/ very surprised. (How did Graves - solid, dependable, humorless Graves - end up with twins?!)

Re: Original!Graves/Twin!Scamanders - Threesome

[(Anonymous)]

OMG you remind me of a longago time when Kingsley/Fred/George was quite the ting in my corner of fandom! Seconded!

Gen/Gramander(???): Newt misplacing his wand

[(Anonymous)]

I don't know if I'm the only one who thought about this but; what if Newt just forgets that he's put his wand between his teeth or perched on his ear like one would do with a pen or a pencil. I imagine he doesn't hold it to the same regard as his suitcase, it's still up there, but if it was a choice between his case and his wand, the cse will always win.

He's tending to his creatures and the hours start blurring together and he just forgets where he put it. When he finally emerges from his case and reaches for his wand that isn't in it's usual place he just does what most people would do and retraces his steps, only to find himself still wandless. He goes around MACUSA and asks if anyone's seen his wand and everyone responds 'no' (think of those situations where people put their glasses on top of their head and forget that they've done it, no one notices/ignores it because they don't see it or they think they're being punked).

Everyone except Graves who is observing the whole thing with a look of disbelief because, wtf, how did any of you become aurors with your atrocious observation skills?

I think about this a lot more than I'd like to admit...

Re: Gen/Gramander(???): Newt misplacing his wand

[(Anonymous)]

This gives me life