017. — Threathen my muse with an object of harm. (@ grindelwald )
This calls for a very special blend of psychology and extreme violence. || @directorgrcves || Still Accepting
Like a lover or a doting mother, Gellert swept his hand through Percival’s hair, his eyes drinking in every inch of the other man’s face, considering every line, every pore, every microscopic detail.
“Percival-” He sighed, and the other man’s name was a lament on his tongue. “I have bested you - stop resisting, stop fighting.” His tone conciliatory and mollifying he swept the pads of his thumbs along Percival’s jawline. “Or I will eviscerate you - I will shred you entirely. I will flay you… And not just physically… I will destroy you mentally. I will leave you as nothing but an empty husk, a drooling, sobbing mess at my feet - living in unending, indescribable agony, trapped, alone, in here.” His hands moved once more to Percival’s hair, referring, of course, to his mind.
“Or you can see sense, relent, rest. And I will leave you in… Relative peace. Allow you to live more comfortably… It’s not an easy choice. I appreciate that. I will allow you some time, for you to grapple with your pride…
I think I know what you will choose, but I hope for your sake that you surprise me. I will enjoy it, I’m sure - but I would rather avoid it if I could.”