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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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Graves/Newt - Niffler stole the ring
Graves is trying to propose to Newt but on the big day he couldn't find the ring in his pocket. He knew the NIffler must've took it and gave chase but Newt was faster. Newt found the ring and when he cast a spell to find its owner it lead back to Graves, so Graves just threw away the romantic proposal plan he had and just proposed then and there.
Totally fine with fluff and schmoop, in fact it's very welcome.
Fill - The Ring is the Thing (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2016-12-12 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)The ring came from Albrik and Son's, who had set up shop in Old Wizarding Amsterdam when Percival was a (rare) gleam in his father's eye and the Gold Rush had kept all
goblins on their pointed toes. Gold it was, brighter than the evergoing party of neon lights above Fifth Avenue, engraved in and out with protective spells that Percival had devised himself, because he wanted the ring to speak not only his love, a new thing itself, and a source of breathtaking happiness, but his newfound duty to keep Newt safe, well and cherished at all times.
"Just let me..." Tina creased her brow, touching her wand to his chest. "You are not proposing with a black tie, sir. Not on my watch."
"I'm not superstitious." The ring is the thing. The ring is the... He started at the rap on his door; willed his neck to relax as it opened and Queenie Goldstein popped her blond head in.
"Mrs Piquery's compliment, sir, and please to say if the bridgroom is coming here alone or with, ah, family. Security -"
"I am Security," Graves snapped, trying to squint down at his tie which, apparently, had been Transfigured into a red carnation, "and he's still a bachelor." The ring is...
"Ooooh, but not for long!" Queenie beamed fondly on him. " 'Specially now you've ditched the the handfasting, honey. Mr Graves, that is. Our Newt is a swell kid, but he's not the one to stay put for three hours, not if it's feeding hour for the moggies or thundering hour for the birdies, or -"
"That will be all, Miss Goldstein." Graves stood up, aware that his thoughts were drifting to late hours, so late they ran into very early hours, when Newt had been content to stay put in his arms and bed. He saw her eyes round and added quickly, "Just wish me luck."
And then, his fireplace lit up and Seraphina's head appeared, sternly benevolent between her framing love curls. "Percival. I am told congratulations are in order."
"Not yet," Graves said, tamping down the itch to slip a finger under his phantom tie. He wasn't used to so many people showing a vested interest in his happiness, still a far cry from the last twenty years. He had championed Newt Scamander upon the young man's return to New York with a fresh-minted book and a fresh batch of protégés; had taken him in, after an unfortunate encounter between Tina's lodger and a junior erumpent; found unexpected comfort in Newt's late-night talks about the creatures, their beauty, vim and peacefulness, at a time when the human species seemed so devoid of them; had changed his mind when Newt had kissed him at dawn, on a good-morning spur, the two of them watching the sun high in the sky and Graves's De Dion-Bouton (MACUSA's compensation for three weeks of unpaid wages). And because he had kissed back, and Newt had bloomed under the kiss, vibrating with joy and confidence as he zig-zagged his way through agents and publishers, Newt's friends had taken him in and made him part of their inner circle.
It was as if all of last year's insanity had been turned into gold, and as he patted his waistcoat pocket absently, he found himself smiling.
Then he did some more patting, and stopped smiling.
"...Percival?" Seraphina was angling her head in the grate. "Something wrong?"
"Oh, Mr Graves!" Queenie had already caught up with his quick-change mood. "Did you check your other pockets?"
Percival had flung his cape aside and was peeling his waistcoat off, not caring if two passing secretaries had paused at the door, with a slow-mo, appreciative gaze. He searched the outer and inner pockets, groped the lining, checked his trousers for good measure and then, with a frantic gulp unbefitting of America's chief Auror, grabbed the waistcoat again and shook it upside down.
Nothing. But the gesture did ring a...
Just then, Queen uttered a distressed little cry. "Newt! He's walking up the hall!"
"Decoy him! Don't let him in! Tell him I'm sick - abroad - in the field!" Graves had caught his hair in both hands and was tugging on it as if hoping to Leviosa himself by sheer muscle force. "Tina! Liaise with Theft and Pilfering. I need every wizarding op on board. We're issuing a level-5 wanted notice. "
There was a cough from the chimney.
"Pending your approval," Graves said mechanically. "Madam President, we have a situation."
"Security breach?"
"Worse. Much worse."
"Grindel..."
"Not even close." Graves forced the air back into his lungs. "Little Midas."
Fill - The Ring is the Thing (1/2) - Newt/Original Graves, humor, fluff
(Anonymous) 2016-12-12 07:44 pm (UTC)(link)In the end, it was Queenie who stayed put, giving Newt whatever tall tale she could spun on the quick, and it was everyone else who chased the niffler. It did not help that Little Midas had an early start on them, nor that Graves had let himself be cajoled out of tagging him with a tracking spell.
"Newtsaiditmightimpairitsmetabolicflow," he'd muttered before letting Alexander Hamilton's ghost side-Apparate him into the Gold vault. (Seraphina had drawn the line at Fort Knox, but agreed to visit Tiffany's herself, in case Little Midas hid his stash in plain view.) To no avail.
It did not help that a howler had caught up with them mid-chase, imparting to Fifth Avenue Theseus Scamander's roar of HONOUR and COMRADESHIP and what did Perce think he was doing, taking his brother for a spin in his car without Theseus's express consent, no, really, old boy, dash it all.
By five, Graves was disheveled, cloak-less, sweaty, sweary, and still short of a ring. Every Auror deployed had been owled a profile of the suspect, but since nifflers were still largely and legally unknown to them, they had shown up proudly carrying a number of red herrings.
"No, Tod, that's a pooch."
Tod Greencoin had shaken his head mournfully, in synch with Tina, back from home base. "Here's your key, sir, and yes, I found his nest. No ring. Ninety-four nickels, though - might want to ward off the Automat in your street."
On the upside, word had spread that MACUSA was focused on "tracking a mole", and four Grindelwaldists had stepped out of the ranks pre-emptively, with abject apologies and a few golden leads. But of the actual gold, not a peep.
"Oh, just buy him another one," Seraphina said, waving a glitzy hand under his nose. "Here, I got you some samples."
The British Minister of Magic was even more uncooperative. "Our Time-Turners are not for export," he said stiffly. "Let alone with such slapdash protocols. You Americans may have a thing for speed, but..."
Graves squeezed his eyelids in brief but heartfelt communion with bootleggers all over the States. He was munching on the carnation by now, and his tie was back to black.
Which was when Queenie Goldstein trotted into his office, dragging his intended by the hand. One hand, indeed, since the other was holding a third party by the scruff of its furry neck.
"Percival!" Newt Scamander gave a sideways gaze to the packed office, then turned it to the master of the premises. "Erm, sorry for intruding, but Little Midas has something to say." The niffler cocked its head on one side, the picture of slit-eyed innocence. "Yes, you have. Apologize to Daddy at once."
"I..." His office had never held much audience appeal, but now it looked like half of MACUSA was crammed between his desk and percolator. "How did you..."
Newt poured the niffler onto his shoulder and grinned. "Oh, I know his rounds. So. You were looking for this?"
And there was the ring, still a thing of beauty - a thick hoop of gold in the cup of Newt's hand.
"Ah. Yes." Graves took a self-conscious step, striving to hold his head high. He was perspiring more than he had any call to, even in this solemn hour, and he had a niffler snoring into his left ear. "I'm sorry, this is really not how I had... I mean... " Hecate's boobs, he could hardly demand the ring back so he could offer it again.
"Percival," Newt repeated. His unruly mop had lights of gold where the six o'clock sun struck it through the open window, and his face was a big brilliant smile. Leaving the softer gleam to his eyes. "Look at you. You don't need a ring - you don't need gold, or ritual. You are the proposal, in and of yourself." Before Graves could answer, Newt's body was turning the air solid between them, so close his breath told Percival's cheek his next words even as they were spoken. "How could I refuse?"
His hand was lifted, palm up, and Percival clasped it before he could think. It was handfasting, after all; the ring their seal, bonding their palms, before he retrieved it it and slipped it in on Newt's finger. "Not losing this, ever again."
"Not losing you," Newt said, his voice suddenly rough, "to anyone again."
Graves bent his head for a kiss, a benediction of lips to gold and flesh, and shut his mind to any other sensation.
------------
"You know," Newt said later, once they were home and the unrepentant niffler had toddled off to bed, "I tried to band a Simurgh once in Arabia." He rested his head against Graves's shoulder. "The bravest and most faithful bird I've ever seen."
"...wha'd'it do?" Graves mumbled, the slur of sleep to his voice. It was a hard day's night.
"Flew before me and took me further East," Newt said dreamily. "Where the sun made a circle of fire over the great sands. It showed me an eternal ring, and I kept it in mind, hoping..." He stopped at the weight of the sleeping man. Newt put his arms around him and shifted his embrace so Graves could lean fully against him, if only for an hour's rest.
"Hoping," he said softly. "And now, knowing."
Re: Fill - The Ring is the Thing (1/2) - Newt/Original Graves, humor, fluff
(Anonymous) 2016-12-12 08:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill - The Ring is the Thing (1/2) - Newt/Original Graves, humor, fluff
(Anonymous) 2016-12-12 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill - link to cleaned-up version on AO3
(Anonymous) 2016-12-12 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)