Rather than have to keep up the imperius spell Grindelwald cast a full binding body spell upon Graves. Graves found all his limbs locked up tightly against his body- he couldn’t even open his mouth.
Unfortunately, Gindelwald seemed to be content to do enough talking for both of them.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. I should have always started with America.” They were walking through the halls, Grindelwald levitating Graves’s frozen form and having it follow after him like a lethargic helium balloon. Graves could still move his eyes- everywhere he looked he saw either dead bodies or even worse, his fellow MACUSA members alive and well but listening with a fervent wonder as Grindelwald yammered on. “America has always been a land of new rules, of revolutions. It’s here where we will change the course of history, Percival.”
Grindelwald spoke as if Graves’s were a willing accomplice in all this, which almost pissed Graves off more than anything else. Graves managed to get out an angry grunt through his locked lips. Grindelwald looked over his shoulder and all of Graves’s fortitude melted away, terror filling him as he waited for the cruciatus curse or some other punishment. But instead Grindelwald just grinned, as if he had gotten the very reaction he had wanted out of Graves in the first place.
“You people don’t even associate with muggles. Ruling them is not that big of a leap.”
They had reached the MACUSA Council Room. From his awkward position, floating perpendicular to the floor, Graves could just see Picquery’s grand seat. His heart seemed to stop as he realized that she would never again sit in it, never preside over another meeting of magical heads of state. And there, next to her chair, was his seat. Would he ever sit there again?
With a graceful sweep of his wand Grindelwald laid him down in front of the President’s throne, like a bound sacrifice before an altar.
Some part of Graves still hoped that all this was just leading to his execution. That hope died when, instead of releasing him Grindelwald straddled him. He looked down at Graves as if he were a puzzle Grindewald just couldn’t quite figure out.
“I know you agree with me,” Grindelwald said. “I know you. I’ve *been* you.”
The sad thing is, that the bastard wasn’t wrong. There had been times when, after a long day he and Picquery would share a bottle of confiscated fire whisky and argue about wizards and witches and no-majs. Graves would always argue that the wizard world could comfortably suppress the no-majs if it came to that. He didn’t see anything wrong with the idea of subjecting most of humanity under wizarding rule: he hardly knew any no-majs, didn’t have to think of them as human. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to happen, but if it did it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
It wasn’t being captured and raped by Grindelwald that soured him on the idea. No. It had been Tina, of course. Always Tina. She had confided in him about her sister, had even introduced Graves to Queenie’s no-maj husband. The two of them were so happy together, they were a witch and a no-maj and yet they were so happy together, they loved each other so much. Maybe everything he had ever just accepted was wrong.
Ironically, instead of this being a crushing blow it had made him feel hopeful for the first time since he his life had gone to shit. He took some comfort in that, that it was love and not hate that had changed him.
Grindelwald didn’t seem to like the new resolve that was steeling itself through Graves’s frame. Without a word he held out a hand. A wizard, one of the crowd who had followed them into the room, came forth with something. Graves’s heart sped up when he heard the clank of a chain.
The wizard put a brown leather collar in Grindelwald’s hand. There was a chain attached to it.
Graves let out an involuntary yelp, the sound escaping through his still locked lips. Grindelwald smiled.
“It’s not the same one you wore before,” Grindelwald said. “I understand you destroyed that one personally. But I do think it’s rather close, don’t you?” Grindelwald leaned forward and started to fit the collar around Graves’ neck. “There was a time when I merely kept Percival in shackles. I had magicked the metal so he could not use magic himself. But then one day I came home and discovered that dear Percival had found some other way out of bondage. He had dislocated *both* his thumbs and slipped his hands free. He was using wandless magic to try and charm the door open when I arrived.” Grindelwald spoke loudly enough so that everyone assembled could hear. Graves waited for the bastard to tell the rest of the story- how, after stunning Graves he had thrown the wizard back onto the bed and fucked him, his hands around Graves’ already busted hands, squeezing his dislocated thumbs with each thrust. Just the memory of the pain made Graves’ eyes start to well up.
Grindelwald lightly brushed a hand over Graves’ hand.
“So that’s when I realized I needed to fit the director with a shackle he couldn’t so easily slip out of.”
The wizard reached up and buckled the collar.
Finally Grindelwald stood back from Graves. With an idle flick of his wand he released Graves from the binding spell.
All of Graves’ limbs moved at once: his legs as he pushed himself on his backside across the floor, his arms as his hands flew up to pull at the collar. There was no give, and Graves soon saw he couldn’t even move that far- the chain was attached to the side of the President’s chair, and it was so short that Graves couldn’t even stand. At best he could sit on the step by the chair.
Grindelwald watched Graves as the limits of his confinement dawned on him.
“All of you, make sure the building is secure,” Grindelwald said to his followers. They shuffled out of the room. Graves’ watched them go, his breath coming in short, panicked breaths.
Grindelwald stepped forward and ran his fingers through Graves’ hair. “Oh my. Panting for it already?”
“Please,” Graves said, not even caring about the other man’s innuendo. “Please just make the chain long enough so that I can stand, so that I don’t have to crawl on the floor like… like…” Like a dog. Like a pet.
Grindelwald actually seemed somewhat concerned by Graves’ distress.
“It’s just for now, until we have taken the city,” he said in his smooth voice. “Until then this is the safest place to keep you.” He fixed Graves’ hair. “And besides, people are used to seeing you next to the president.”
Graves was about to tell him that the president was dead but before he could Grindelwald leant down and captured his mouth in a kiss. It seemed to last forever, until Graves finally turned his head away. Grindelwald grabbed his chin and tried to pull him back into the kiss but Graves just laughed.
“What?” Grindelwald asked coldly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you're a delusional madman?” Graves said, voice even.
Grindelwald let go of him and stepped away.
“Yes,” he replied. “And then I killed someone he loved. So do be careful, Percival.”
Grindelwald stood there, watching Graves, daring him to say anything more. But Graves merely dropped his eyes, gaze fixed on the dark floor of the council room. He held his breath and only let it out when Grindelwald turned and left the room. -END-
Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Concubine, angst, noncon- Fill Part 3 END
Unfortunately, Gindelwald seemed to be content to do enough talking for both of them.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. I should have always started with America.” They were walking through the halls, Grindelwald levitating Graves’s frozen form and having it follow after him like a lethargic helium balloon. Graves could still move his eyes- everywhere he looked he saw either dead bodies or even worse, his fellow MACUSA members alive and well but listening with a fervent wonder as Grindelwald yammered on. “America has always been a land of new rules, of revolutions. It’s here where we will change the course of history, Percival.”
Grindelwald spoke as if Graves’s were a willing accomplice in all this, which almost pissed Graves off more than anything else. Graves managed to get out an angry grunt through his locked lips. Grindelwald looked over his shoulder and all of Graves’s fortitude melted away, terror filling him as he waited for the cruciatus curse or some other punishment. But instead Grindelwald just grinned, as if he had gotten the very reaction he had wanted out of Graves in the first place.
“You people don’t even associate with muggles. Ruling them is not that big of a leap.”
They had reached the MACUSA Council Room. From his awkward position, floating perpendicular to the floor, Graves could just see Picquery’s grand seat. His heart seemed to stop as he realized that she would never again sit in it, never preside over another meeting of magical heads of state. And there, next to her chair, was his seat. Would he ever sit there again?
With a graceful sweep of his wand Grindelwald laid him down in front of the President’s throne, like a bound sacrifice before an altar.
Some part of Graves still hoped that all this was just leading to his execution. That hope died when, instead of releasing him Grindelwald straddled him. He looked down at Graves as if he were a puzzle Grindewald just couldn’t quite figure out.
“I know you agree with me,” Grindelwald said. “I know you. I’ve *been* you.”
The sad thing is, that the bastard wasn’t wrong. There had been times when, after a long day he and Picquery would share a bottle of confiscated fire whisky and argue about wizards and witches and no-majs. Graves would always argue that the wizard world could comfortably suppress the no-majs if it came to that. He didn’t see anything wrong with the idea of subjecting most of humanity under wizarding rule: he hardly knew any no-majs, didn’t have to think of them as human. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to happen, but if it did it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
It wasn’t being captured and raped by Grindelwald that soured him on the idea. No. It had been Tina, of course. Always Tina. She had confided in him about her sister, had even introduced Graves to Queenie’s no-maj husband. The two of them were so happy together, they were a witch and a no-maj and yet they were so happy together, they loved each other so much. Maybe everything he had ever just accepted was wrong.
Ironically, instead of this being a crushing blow it had made him feel hopeful for the first time since he his life had gone to shit. He took some comfort in that, that it was love and not hate that had changed him.
Grindelwald didn’t seem to like the new resolve that was steeling itself through Graves’s frame. Without a word he held out a hand. A wizard, one of the crowd who had followed them into the room, came forth with something. Graves’s heart sped up when he heard the clank of a chain.
The wizard put a brown leather collar in Grindelwald’s hand. There was a chain attached to it.
Graves let out an involuntary yelp, the sound escaping through his still locked lips. Grindelwald smiled.
“It’s not the same one you wore before,” Grindelwald said. “I understand you destroyed that one personally. But I do think it’s rather close, don’t you?” Grindelwald leaned forward and started to fit the collar around Graves’ neck. “There was a time when I merely kept Percival in shackles. I had magicked the metal so he could not use magic himself. But then one day I came home and discovered that dear Percival had found some other way out of bondage. He had dislocated *both* his thumbs and slipped his hands free. He was using wandless magic to try and charm the door open when I arrived.” Grindelwald spoke loudly enough so that everyone assembled could hear. Graves waited for the bastard to tell the rest of the story- how, after stunning Graves he had thrown the wizard back onto the bed and fucked him, his hands around Graves’ already busted hands, squeezing his dislocated thumbs with each thrust. Just the memory of the pain made Graves’ eyes start to well up.
Grindelwald lightly brushed a hand over Graves’ hand.
“So that’s when I realized I needed to fit the director with a shackle he couldn’t so easily slip out of.”
The wizard reached up and buckled the collar.
Finally Grindelwald stood back from Graves. With an idle flick of his wand he released Graves from the binding spell.
All of Graves’ limbs moved at once: his legs as he pushed himself on his backside across the floor, his arms as his hands flew up to pull at the collar. There was no give, and Graves soon saw he couldn’t even move that far- the chain was attached to the side of the President’s chair, and it was so short that Graves couldn’t even stand. At best he could sit on the step by the chair.
Grindelwald watched Graves as the limits of his confinement dawned on him.
“All of you, make sure the building is secure,” Grindelwald said to his followers. They shuffled out of the room. Graves’ watched them go, his breath coming in short, panicked breaths.
Grindelwald stepped forward and ran his fingers through Graves’ hair.
“Oh my. Panting for it already?”
“Please,” Graves said, not even caring about the other man’s innuendo. “Please just make the chain long enough so that I can stand, so that I don’t have to crawl on the floor like… like…” Like a dog. Like a pet.
Grindelwald actually seemed somewhat concerned by Graves’ distress.
“It’s just for now, until we have taken the city,” he said in his smooth voice. “Until then this is the safest place to keep you.” He fixed Graves’ hair. “And besides, people are used to seeing you next to the president.”
Graves was about to tell him that the president was dead but before he could Grindelwald leant down and captured his mouth in a kiss. It seemed to last forever, until Graves finally turned his head away. Grindelwald grabbed his chin and tried to pull him back into the kiss but Graves just laughed.
“What?” Grindelwald asked coldly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you're a delusional madman?” Graves said, voice even.
Grindelwald let go of him and stepped away.
“Yes,” he replied. “And then I killed someone he loved. So do be careful, Percival.”
Grindelwald stood there, watching Graves, daring him to say anything more. But Graves merely dropped his eyes, gaze fixed on the dark floor of the council room. He held his breath and only let it out when Grindelwald turned and left the room.
-END-