(I am a sucker for 'the bad guy wins' type fics, so I had to fill this. hope you don't mind it being a bit of a slow build... Also a bit of Graves/Tina.)
PART 1 Graves couldn’t help but turn the postcard over and over again in his hands. On one side was the Eiffel Tower, sparkling in the summer sun as various tourists skipped in and out of the picture. He’d watch it for a little while, then flip it over so he could read Tina’s message:
Mr. Graves, I hope you don’t think it’s unprofessional to send a postcard to the MACUSA HQ. I would have sent it to your house if I knew the address (but then perhaps that would have been unprofessional too…). Anyway, Newt and I are having a lovely time in Europe, or ‘on the continent’ as the Brits call it. Hope all is well back in NYC, Tina
He could just imagine her at the postcard rack in some Paris wizarding shop, examining card after card, her brow furrowed, so engrossed in her task that she’d ignore all the real life wonders around her. Graves chuckled as he pictured her oscillating over what to say, doubting it all, then steeling herself as she decided to just go ahead and do it. It was that mix of hesitancy and determination that had always attracted Graves to Goldstein. How worried she would look as she ran through every possible horrible outcome, and then the fire in her eyes as she brushed it all away and committed to whatever hare-brained course of action she had decided on in her heart. Like eloping with a magi-zoologist she barely even knows? A snide voice chittered in Graves’s head. He tossed the postcard away. There was no need to be petty. He had never made his feelings known to Goldstein, he had no right to feel so… bereft. She was happy, and that was all that really mattered.
Still, he thought as he picked the postcard back up, he hoped that Newt and Tina did not stay too long in Paris. Cities and Newt Scamander were not a good combination, not with his traveling case of fantastic beasts that were liable to get loose. He smiled.
“Now there’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”
Graves looked up to see one of his Aurors, Jade Newall, standing in his office doorway.
“Oh?” he said. “What?”
“A smile on your face,” Jade said with a grin of her own. “Why, I don’t think I’ve seen you smile since… well, since you got back.”
Her grin had died as she spoke and now a heaviness hung in the air. It had been nearly four months since Grindelwald had been revealed and Graves rescued from his clutches. And it had only been one month since Grindlewald had escaped MACUSA’s most secure prison.
Graves told himself to relax. The madman was probably back in England by now, or in Europe.
‘…or ‘on the continent,’ as the Brits call it.’
Graves frowned down at the magical postcard. Please God, don’t let Grindelwald be in Europe.
“Well, let’s face it Newall, I was hardly all smiles before I got locked away and tortured,” Graves said bluntly. “What do you want?”
Newall flinched. Graves felt bad for being so curt with her. Since coming back to work half his old co-workers and employees treated him with disdain. He was supposed to be MACUSA’s top Auror. By letting Grindelwald defeat him, it didn’t just reflect badly on him- it reflected badly on every American witch and wizard. None of them apologized for not seeing through Grindelwald’s disguise. They put all the blame on Graves for allowing the other man to capture him in the first place.
Then there were people like Newall, people who were a little bit kinder, who still talked to him and meet his eye. But there was still that lack of respect. They treated him with kindness, yet, but it was a kindness heavily steeped in pity. There were a few of them who seemed to be Graves’s self-appointed watch dogs, always sticking close to him as he moved around the Auror office or went out to do fieldwork. Worst of all was when they tried to put a hand on his arm or shoulder, intending to comfort him but instead making Graves think of Grindelwald at his worst, which was also when Grindelwald was his gentlest.
“It’s so lonely being you, Graves,” Grindelwald would chide him as he fucked him. “There’s no one in your life to turn to. No one else to do this with.”
“I just need you to approve these warrants, boss,” Newall said, bringing Graves back into the present. Graves stood and took the stack of papers from his agent with a stern look.
“I will decide if the warrants get approved or not, Newall,” Graves said. Newall smiled at him once more.
“Right, of course, boss.” Maybe Graves was just imaging the patronizing tone in her voice. He watched her go and sit at her desk on the office floor.
The Auror floor was curiously quiet today. Several units were on day-time raids or fieldwork, leaving only Newall and Graves around the office. It had been a quiet month, actually, after the big excitement of Grindelwald’s escape. Something seemed off.
‘Maybe it’s the universe cutting you a break after all the shit it’s piled on you,’ Graves thought, then snorted in disbelief.
At that moment he noticed a small paper bird flitting towards him, small wings tucked against it’s body as it rose and dove in the air. A message of some kind, and an urgent one- it was a small bird, so something hesitaly constructed, but still built for speed. But before it could reach Graves another bird flapped it’s way into the open window. This was a bird of prey, a paper peregrine falcon, and with it’s size and speed it swooped down upon the paper swallow and ripped it apart.
This was not an uncommon sight at the MACUSA offices- warring departments were always trying to intercept, delay, or destroy other apartments messages, usually as part of an internecine war for funding and budget cuts. But it was odd to see among Aurors. Graves got up from his desk to come over and investigate.
More birds started flying in through the window. The falcon let out a cry like paper being torn in half and set upon the birds. Though it managed to catch most of them one of them manged to dodge the other bird’s talons and fly into Grave’s hands.
Before Graves could unfold it he saw Newall rise from her desk and draw her wand. Going purely on gut Graves drew his own wand and got off a spell just as Newall aimed at him. Before she could stupefy him she screamed as the bones in her wand hand disappeared, the skin flopping down at her wrist and her wand clattering to the floor. Graves hastily unfolded the messenger bird.
Mutiny within MACUSA. Get out of the building. -W (TBC)
Re: Graves/Grindelwald- Concubine, angst, noncon- Fill Part 1
PART 1
Graves couldn’t help but turn the postcard over and over again in his hands. On one side was the Eiffel Tower, sparkling in the summer sun as various tourists skipped in and out of the picture. He’d watch it for a little while, then flip it over so he could read Tina’s message:
Mr. Graves,
I hope you don’t think it’s unprofessional to send a postcard to the MACUSA HQ. I would have sent it to your house if I knew the address (but then perhaps that would have been unprofessional too…). Anyway, Newt and I are having a lovely time in Europe, or ‘on the continent’ as the Brits call it. Hope all is well back in NYC,
Tina
He could just imagine her at the postcard rack in some Paris wizarding shop, examining card after card, her brow furrowed, so engrossed in her task that she’d ignore all the real life wonders around her. Graves chuckled as he pictured her oscillating over what to say, doubting it all, then steeling herself as she decided to just go ahead and do it. It was that mix of hesitancy and determination that had always attracted Graves to Goldstein. How worried she would look as she ran through every possible horrible outcome, and then the fire in her eyes as she brushed it all away and committed to whatever hare-brained course of action she had decided on in her heart.
Like eloping with a magi-zoologist she barely even knows? A snide voice chittered in Graves’s head. He tossed the postcard away. There was no need to be petty. He had never made his feelings known to Goldstein, he had no right to feel so… bereft. She was happy, and that was all that really mattered.
Still, he thought as he picked the postcard back up, he hoped that Newt and Tina did not stay too long in Paris. Cities and Newt Scamander were not a good combination, not with his traveling case of fantastic beasts that were liable to get loose. He smiled.
“Now there’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”
Graves looked up to see one of his Aurors, Jade Newall, standing in his office doorway.
“Oh?” he said. “What?”
“A smile on your face,” Jade said with a grin of her own. “Why, I don’t think I’ve seen you smile since… well, since you got back.”
Her grin had died as she spoke and now a heaviness hung in the air. It had been nearly four months since Grindelwald had been revealed and Graves rescued from his clutches. And it had only been one month since Grindlewald had escaped MACUSA’s most secure prison.
Graves told himself to relax. The madman was probably back in England by now, or in Europe.
‘…or ‘on the continent,’ as the Brits call it.’
Graves frowned down at the magical postcard. Please God, don’t let Grindelwald be in Europe.
“Well, let’s face it Newall, I was hardly all smiles before I got locked away and tortured,” Graves said bluntly. “What do you want?”
Newall flinched. Graves felt bad for being so curt with her. Since coming back to work half his old co-workers and employees treated him with disdain. He was supposed to be MACUSA’s top Auror. By letting Grindelwald defeat him, it didn’t just reflect badly on him- it reflected badly on every American witch and wizard. None of them apologized for not seeing through Grindelwald’s disguise. They put all the blame on Graves for allowing the other man to capture him in the first place.
Then there were people like Newall, people who were a little bit kinder, who still talked to him and meet his eye. But there was still that lack of respect. They treated him with kindness, yet, but it was a kindness heavily steeped in pity. There were a few of them who seemed to be Graves’s self-appointed watch dogs, always sticking close to him as he moved around the Auror office or went out to do fieldwork. Worst of all was when they tried to put a hand on his arm or shoulder, intending to comfort him but instead making Graves think of Grindelwald at his worst, which was also when Grindelwald was his gentlest.
“It’s so lonely being you, Graves,” Grindelwald would chide him as he fucked him. “There’s no one in your life to turn to. No one else to do this with.”
“I just need you to approve these warrants, boss,” Newall said, bringing Graves back into the present. Graves stood and took the stack of papers from his agent with a stern look.
“I will decide if the warrants get approved or not, Newall,” Graves said. Newall smiled at him once more.
“Right, of course, boss.” Maybe Graves was just imaging the patronizing tone in her voice. He watched her go and sit at her desk on the office floor.
The Auror floor was curiously quiet today. Several units were on day-time raids or fieldwork, leaving only Newall and Graves around the office. It had been a quiet month, actually, after the big excitement of Grindelwald’s escape. Something seemed off.
‘Maybe it’s the universe cutting you a break after all the shit it’s piled on you,’ Graves thought, then snorted in disbelief.
At that moment he noticed a small paper bird flitting towards him, small wings tucked against it’s body as it rose and dove in the air. A message of some kind, and an urgent one- it was a small bird, so something hesitaly constructed, but still built for speed. But before it could reach Graves another bird flapped it’s way into the open window. This was a bird of prey, a paper peregrine falcon, and with it’s size and speed it swooped down upon the paper swallow and ripped it apart.
This was not an uncommon sight at the MACUSA offices- warring departments were always trying to intercept, delay, or destroy other apartments messages, usually as part of an internecine war for funding and budget cuts. But it was odd to see among Aurors. Graves got up from his desk to come over and investigate.
More birds started flying in through the window. The falcon let out a cry like paper being torn in half and set upon the birds. Though it managed to catch most of them one of them manged to dodge the other bird’s talons and fly into Grave’s hands.
Before Graves could unfold it he saw Newall rise from her desk and draw her wand. Going purely on gut Graves drew his own wand and got off a spell just as Newall aimed at him. Before she could stupefy him she screamed as the bones in her wand hand disappeared, the skin flopping down at her wrist and her wand clattering to the floor. Graves hastily unfolded the messenger bird.
Mutiny within MACUSA. Get out of the building.
-W
(TBC)