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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
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Prompt Post #1
ROUND 1
FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER
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FILL: "Nothing Shall Be Impossible" Part 19/? - Grindelwald + Graves/Credence Breeding Program
(Anonymous) 2017-02-11 12:36 am (UTC)(link)___________________________________
Credence did not enjoy morning sickness. It was, thankfully, mostly limited to the mornings, but he would much rather have started his day trading kisses with Percival and not emptying his belly into the toilet. Percival had gone carefully nondescript when Credence asked how long this was supposed to last, which Credence interpreted as a long time. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to endure this for a long time, but that might have been the morning sickness talking. He’d forget about how miserable he felt by noon, once the nausea passed, only to remember again tomorrow. But for now …
Credence curled up on their cot, one hand on his stomach and the other fisted in the pillow. I’m glad that you’re healthy, baby, he thought, but couldn’t you give your poor papa a little break?
Percival had his shirt off and was doing something he called shadow boxing, which seemed to consist of aiming quick punches and jabs at absolutely nothing. His expression was ferocious with intent – Credence suspected that Mr. Grindelwald was his imaginary opponent.
Credence had very little interest in boxing. Watching men beat on each other for sport seemed ridiculous, when men hurt each other for worse reasons all the time and no one said anything about it. But when Percival did it, it looked primal and rather appealing. Credence resented being too nauseous to properly appreciate it.
He napped until he stopped feeling nauseous and started feeling ravenous instead. Credence got out of bed and settled on the floor by their breakfast, waiting for Percival to stop punching the imaginary Mr. Grindelwald and join him.
“Feeling better?” Percival asked, sitting next to him. He was appealingly sweaty and looked pleased with himself; he’d vanquished the imaginary Mr. Grindelwald, then.
“Much,” Credence assured him, passing him one of the bowls of cold porridge before starting in on his own. Percival wolfed it down, scraping up the last bit with his fingers. Credence took advantage of his distraction to pass him an apple. Percival wasn’t eating enough, but he’d usually eat if Credence passed him food – at least until he noticed what Credence was doing.
“Magic lesson?” Percival asked, crunching into his apple. It was the next part of their new routine.
“Wingardium leviosa,” said Credence, getting the intonation exactly right. His cup of peppermint tea – also recommended to settle his stomach, according to Mr. Grindelwald, who had looked rather smug to know something Percival didn’t – floated into the air just above his head, saucer and all.
“Well done!” Percival said.
Credence retrieved the cup and saucer and took a sip to hide his pleased expression.
“It’s a pity you never got your Ilvermorny letter,” Percival said. “You’re a quick study – you’d have been top of your year seven years running.”
“What’s Ilvermorny?” Credence asked. “Is that a school? Like Hogwarts?”
“Very like,” Percival confirmed. “Ilvermorny is modeled on Hogwarts, actually. One of the founders – Isolt Sayre – always wanted to go to Hogwarts. She and her husband James Steward founded Ilvermorny with their two adopted sons, Chadwick and Webster Boot. It started out as a little school in their family cottage, and now it’s one of the best schools for wizarding education in the world. The best, depending on who you ask. It’s the only wizarding school in the world to have a No-Maj as one of the founders.”
“No-Maj’s can do that?” Credence asked. “I thought there were laws against it.”
“Not then,” Percival said.
“Is that where you went?”
“It’s where every Graves goes to school,” Percival said. He gestured to Credence’s belly, where their child grew. “He will, too. You should have. Your memory’s incredible. You’d have done well in Horned Serpent. Seraphina might still try to poach you for her amanuensis, she’s got an eye for talent.”
“Why would I do well in Horned Serpent?” Credence asked. This was, he felt, a good example of the way wizards did not seem to use perfectly normal English. “Would it eat me? And who is Seraphina, and why would she want me for an – amanuensis?” Was that a spell? It sounded like a spell.
Percival chuckled. “Ilvermorny, like Hogwarts, divides its students into four Houses that the students are sorted into at school. It gives the students a group of like-minded peers to bond with. Houses can compete with each other over sporting events and the likes, which encourages a little healthy competition, too. It’s a boarding school thing. Horned Serpent is one of the four Houses at Ilvermorny. Seraphina was in Horned Serpent, actually. The House for scholars and the mind. She’ll never admit to it, but she does tend to favor Horned Serpent applicants. And Seraphina’s …” He paused, considering.
Credence’s throat tightened. Was Seraphina Percival’s lover?
“Well, you know how I mentioned MACUSA has a president, just like the No-Maj’s do?” Percival asked.
“Yes,” said Credence, because he had a fairly decent idea of how MACUSA was structured now.
“That’s Seraphina.”
Credence frowned. “I thought you said the president was someone named Picquery?”
Percival had told Mr. Grindelwald how to pick a fight with President Picquery; he’d even used her name, when he was telling Mr. Grindelwald how to really make her mad. Cura dat victoriam, Seraphina. Whatever that meant.
He should have realized who she was before now. Ma didn’t like it when he put things together like that – she said it was cheeky – but sometimes putting things together helped him avoid getting belted.
Not that Percival would belt him.
“Seraphina Picquery, yes.”
“A woman president,” Credence said, thinking about how different the wizarding world was all over again.
“And a mixed race one, at that,” Percival said. “The Picquery family’s from New Orleans. They’re very strong and well-respected.”
“You’re on a first name basis with the president,” Credence said.
“I’m the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. It’s my job to work with the president. Besides, Seraphina and I have been friends since we were at Ilvermorny. I was her rival.”
“Was she yours?” Credence asked.
“After a fashion,” Percival said. “Seraphina’s the only witch of our generation to have been offered all four Houses at Ilvermorny. She’s exceptional, always has been. Most people define my position by who I was – and am – to her, rather than who she is to me.”
“You’re exceptional too,” Credence pointed out.
Percival shook his head. “Not like Seraphina.”
Ilvermorny, Percival explained, had four Houses. There was Horned Serpent, which represented the mind, for scholars, where Seraphina had chosen to go. And Wampus, which was a kind of six-legged cat and represented the body, for warriors.
“Three guesses where I ended up,” Percival said, a wry twist to his mouth. “Half my team is Wampus, too, with a few Thunderbirds here and there.”
Thunderbird represented the soul, and was the House for adventurers. Norton had been a Thunderbird. Tina Goldstein – the dark-haired witch who’d tried to save him from Ma – was a Thunderbird, too. Credence hadn’t known her name before now.
And last but certainly not least was Pukwudgie, which was named for a magical creature found only in America – “a little like a goblin, but with some shapeshifting powers thrown in; they’re not full shifters, like werewolves, but a partial transformation into a large porcupine or a cougar is terrifying enough” – and represented the heart, for the healers.
“You might’ve been a Pukwudgie, if you didn’t go into Horned Serpent,” Percival said thoughtfully. “You’ve the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Maybe both Houses would’ve offered for you, and you could’ve picked the one you wanted.”
“You can’t pick which House you want? I thought that was what you said Seraphina did.”
“Seraphina’s exceptional,” Percival repeated. “The Houses choose the wizard. Or the witch, in Seraphina’s case. It’s rare for a witch or a wizard to be chosen by more than one house. Being chosen by all four only happens once every generation or so.”
“Oh,” said Credence, basking in the warm glow of Percival’s regard. Percival thought that he could’ve been chosen by more than one House and that he had the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met.
Percival thought too highly of him. Maybe it was sinful, but Credence had no desire to correct him.
Credence sipped some more tea. “Where do you think he’ll go?” he asked, making a vague circle near his belly with his teacup.
“I think every father hopes his son will follow in his footsteps,” Percival admitted. “Mine certainly did. I’d rather he took after you, though. Horned Serpent or Pukwudgie.”
“I wasn’t either of those, not really,” Credence pointed out.
“You should have been. In a different life, you would have.”
“This life’s not so bad,” Credence said. “Not with you in it.”
“Definitely Pukwudgie,” said Percival. “You’re right, though. In a different life, if you’d gone to Ilvermorny like you were supposed to and joined MACUSA – as a healer, maybe, although I think you’d have made a damn fine Auror. If your life had gone the way it was supposed to, I never would have let myself look at you, much less touch. I can’t abuse my position. Not like that.”
Credence thought about that. The thought that he could have had magic and Percival’s world – that he should have had those things, and didn’t – that thought hurt. But the thought that he wouldn’t have Percival? That was worse.
“What if I wanted you to look?” he asked. “Or touch?”
“I still wouldn’t have. I couldn’t, Credence. If you joined MACUSA, you’d be a junior Auror, and I’m the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Your boss. Or your boss’s boss’s boss, which is worse. There’d be no way to prove that you weren’t with me to advance your career, or that I wasn’t taking advantage of you. It would ruin both of us.”
That, strangely, made it easier to let the dream of the life that should have been go. When it came down to a life with Percival and a life without him, the choice was easy.
“Then I’m glad things worked out the way they did,” Credence said. He wasn’t quite as good as Percival at sounding firm, but he was getting better with practice. “I’d rather have you.”
“Will you still think that, once you’re out of this cage and you’ve seen the wonders our world holds with your own two eyes?” Percival asked. He sounded a little sad.
“Nothing is more wonderful than you,” Credence said, very firmly this time. He set his tea aside and decided the rest of breakfast could wait until later. “Percival?”
“Yes?”
“What if I want you to look now? Since this isn’t that other life, and I’m not a junior Auror.”
Percival turned to look at him, warmth in his eyes. “I’m looking.”
Credence summoned up every ounce of bravery he had. “And if I want you to touch?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Percival asked.
“Yes,” Credence said.
Percival leaned over and kissed him, careful and lingering. “Me too,” he said. “We still haven’t talked about what anything means, though.”
“It means anything,” Credence said, a little impatiently.
“Kissing?”
“Yes.”
“Touching?”
“Yes.”
“Fucking?”
Credence blushed. “Percival.”
“Having sex?” Percival corrected.
“Yes,” Credence said, blushing harder.
“That doesn’t even begin to cover anything,” Percival said. “There’s a lot of different ways to touch, and even more to have sex. Not everyone likes everything.”
“I don’t even know what I like!” Credence shot back. “I just know I like you, and that you won’t hurt me. And if I didn’t like something, you’d stop, wouldn’t you? That’s what you said to me, the first night Mr. Grindelwald brought me here. You said to tell you if you did something I didn’t like, or if it hurt. You asked if I wanted you to stop, and you asked if you hurt me. I trust you, Percival. Trust me, too. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, or if it hurts, and you’ll stop. I know you will.” He took a deep breath and added, “And you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, and I’ll stop.”
Percival stared at him.
Doubt crept in. Had he pushed Percival too far? Maybe he was being too demanding. He opened his mouth to apologize.
“I am a terrible hypocrite,” Percival said, looking far to amused to be properly guilty about it. “Because all I can think is that I’d like anything, as long as it was with you.”
Credence snorted. “Yes,” he said. “You are.”
“You, however, are magnificent,” Percival said. “And I am going to make love to you until you believe it.”
“That might take awhile,” Credence said, ears burning with how shameless he sounded: how wanton.
“Good,” Percival said, using the low raspy purr he’d used last week, when Credence had said he could do anything. “I’m going to enjoy taking my time with you.”
Re: FILL: "Nothing Shall Be Impossible" Part 19/? - Grindelwald + Graves/Credence Breeding Program
(Anonymous) 2017-02-11 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: "Nothing Shall Be Impossible" Part 19/? - Grindelwald + Graves/Credence Breeding Program
(Anonymous) 2017-02-13 04:21 am (UTC)(link)Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the next part. Some fluff, and then some ouch.