#wizard!verse

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Children of the Moon

@themagiciansarcana

His memories of the past few weeks were blurry at best and nonsensical or completely absent at worst. After being assigned to ‘escort’ Gellert Grindelwald while he was in New York--an assignment that was only slightly logical for him to perform, given his role as liaison--things became hazy and confusing. Disjointed.

Beau wasn’t the sort to have one-night stands, so why did one of his clearer memories seem to be allowing the German wizard to seduce him?

He didn’t understand it.

There was a lot he didn’t understand about what little he could remember.

But there was one thing he could say was absolutely clear to him: He’d been turned. Grindelwald had made him a vampire.

Sunlight burned his flesh. His senses were as keen as--if not keener than--they had ever been in his canine animagus form. His physical abilities had far surpassed anything humanly possible. And the smell of blood--once abhorrent and sickening to him--was now the sweetest perfume.

He hated it.

It terrified him.

Dieu miséricordieux, he was pretty sure he had already drained some poor sap during his first hours in this state, and he had no idea what he would do when the thirst for more blood hit him. How long would he be able to hold out before going on a rampage?

He couldn’t go to Percival for help. Not this time. If Grindelwald had turned Beau with the intention of using him as leverage, the man was sorely mistaken. Beau was a threat now, and the Director of Magical Security wouldn’t hesitate to kill him in order to protect others.

Beau didn’t think he would want Percival to spare him if he endangered anyone else.

No, he couldn’t go to Percival. And Revelin...

Enculer, he should have gone with Revelin when his werewolf had asked him to. He had no idea where to even start looking for Revelin. It had been months since he’d left.

Jarrett would know where Revelin had gone. If anyone would know, it was his brother.

Of course, Jarrett wouldn’t give Beau that information without a price. He wanted information in return. Information Beau would never have given him were he not desperate and in dire need. He had no other choice.

And now he found himself fleeing the city he’d come to think of as his second home, in search of the one person he never should have allowed to leave without him.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Going Home

@gravemagicks

It was an infection that got Beau transferred from the front to the Jeanne D’Arc Hôpital pour Malades et Blessures Magique. There were too many wounded--thanks to the mix of magical and nonmagical weaponry and tactics Grindelwald used on the field of battle--and too few medics to tend them all, too little of the supplies they needed. Of course, his wound had never been magical, but it would have been too much of a risk to send him to any nonmagical hospital in Paris. Too many questions that could breach the Statute of Secrecy.

It added weeks to his recovery, but recover Beau did. Albeit slowly. What else could he expect? He’d been shot in the chest. Such things took time to heal, whether by magical or nonmagical means.

Though perhaps knowing who his soulmate was now--and sending almost daily missives back and forth by owl--had a hand in his recovery. It had certainly had a hand in his survival in the first place.

The thought of Percival, and knowing his soulmate was still alive and relatively safe as the war appeared to be drawing to a close--it seemed Grindelwald’s tactics had lost the dark wizard as many of his own troops as those against whom he fought, and the French and American troops fighting the battles on French soil had won more battles of late than they’d lost; they were pushing Grindelwald’s forces back--made Beau smile like a lovesick fool.

He didn’t even know whether the soulbond would result in love--either romantic or platonic--and yet he couldn’t help but act as though it might.

This far from Percival, Beau’s soulmark didn’t glow--not often, and not in the same beacon-like way it did with his soulmate near. Only in that same soft, ember-like glow as Belle had shared with Percival, that of a twin’s mate, rather than one’s own.

That was how the crimson phoenix emblazoned on Beau’s forearm glowed the morning he was to be released from the Jeanne D’Arc Hôpital, not yet fully healed, but well enough that he would recover better at home than in a hospital cot.

As happy as he was to see his family--as much as it lightened his heart that Adam had come with Belle to bring him home--Beau’s joy was tinged with sadness and some disappointment that his own soulmate wasn’t there. He understood, of course. Percival was an important man, a high-ranking officer and official, and it was likely he was involved in something he couldn’t get away from.

It’s okay, Beau told himself, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over his soulmark in a self-soothing gesture. He could send Percival an owl once he was settled in at home. It wouldn’t be the same as having him there, but it would have to be enough.

He didn’t register the warmth blossoming in his chest--not his own emotions, but his soulmate’s--until he saw the impish smirk on Belle’s lips and the twinkle in her eye, focused on the mark now clearly visible through the thin cotton of his hospital pajamas’ sleeve.

He glanced briefly in surprise at his arm, then looked past his gathered family--and the grin that suddenly broke out upon his lips felt wide enough as to split his face in two.

“Percival!”

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

☃ -- @gravemagicks

Send a symbol for your muse to find mine…

☃️- Shivering from the cold

@gravemagicks

Beau could feel his teeth chattering no matter how hard he clenched his jaw to keep it still.

He could barely see the manor past the icy flakes whirling around him, blown by the howling wind that had sprung up out of nowhere–but somehow he managed to make his way to the entrance and push open the heavy door. His boots slid on the stone floor, and it was only by leaning all his weight against the wooden surface of the door that he managed to close it once he was inside.

His coat was soaked through, and the foyer was nearly as cold as the frigid air outside. It seeped though his clothes and chilled Beau to the bone, sapping his strength–and he’d already been exhausted before the blizzard blew in.

Out in the storm, he hadn’t dared use what little energy he had left to cast a charm to keep himself warm. Not when he hadn’t known whether he’d be able to make it back. But now, safe within Percival’s manor, he used the last of his strength and focus to apparate upstairs to the bedroom, where he collapsed on the woven rug in front of the grate and the crackling fire Percival had kept fed and burning for him since the winter first took hold of the countryside.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Magicae Oscura est Specularis

@gravemagicks

Well, this was certainly not how he’d expected his first day in New York to go. Barely stepped foot in the city, and he’d already found the Obscurial he was searching for, nearly died himself and almost let her get killed by American Aurors in the process, been saved by MACUSA’s Director of Magical Security--who he wasn’t scheduled to meet until the next morning, when he’d have been settled into his temporary lodgings and had all the appropriate paperwork processed to be allowed to work in New York as he needed to--and was now being questioned by that very same man about what he was doing there.

Merde. This was definitely not how he’d expected--or at least hoped--his day would go.

“What I intend to do here, Director? I’d think that much would be obvious. You do know what that was that you just saved me from falling into the subway tunnels because of, right? You received the file my superior sent you, correct?”

Beau knew he was being disrespectful, but he was too worried about the nine-year-old Obscurial in the city to think about showing proper respect to the man who would effectively be his direct superior for the duration of the investigation he’d been sent from France to conduct.

“I apologize for my disrespect, Director, but it is extremely important that I reach the child that Obscurus we just faced belongs to before she loses control of it completely and people die--the child herself included.”

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

No Jot of Blood

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

Hearing his words so quietly repeated, seeing Percival’s features return to their usual apparently human state, Beau relaxed slightly.

But he froze as Percival’s hand grasped his wrist, every instinct suddenly screaming, ‘Run! Danger!’ and, for that briefest instant, Beau feared a trap. That the hunters’ arrival had somehow thrust his beloved into some untrusting and untrustworthy state. But, no, Percival’s grip was loose, tentative, the light caress of his thumb gentle, and Percival’s gaze was as confused and frightened as his own. This was no trick, no trap.

“Oh, merci Dieu.” Beau went almost completely slack in relief, his head falling to Percival’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, and he stayed like that for a good, long moment.

Until a soft whimper from behind him reminded Beau of exactly why he’d had to pin Percival in the first place.

He turned to the girl--and, oh, Dieu miséricordieux, the fear and confusion and concern in Velia’s dark, violet eyes was absolutely heartbreaking. Beau crossed to her and knelt, reaching up to gently cup her face in his hands.

“Are you all right, minette?”

Velia nodded, sniffling. For all that she’d grown in the few years since Beau had seen her last, she was still just a child--and a horribly frightened one, at that. “You’re hurt.”

As though her words had summoned it, pain flared in Beau’s injured arm, but he ignored it. “I’ll be all right, minette. But what are you doing here, Velia? And why with a pack of hunters?”

“I wanted--I had to find you. I couldn’t stand not knowing any more. Why you’d left, where you’d gone. A-and they’d seemed to--to know you. I didn’t think--didn’t expect...” Her tearful gaze moved from Beau’s face to fix on Percival over his shoulder. “...Percy?”

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Dog-Gone Magic

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

Beau growled quietly at Percival’s comment--but it just sounded so strange and high-pitched to his ears that the sound turned instead to a whine. He’d never been a puppy in his animagus form, having performed the ritual and registered as an animagus when he was eighteen. It didn’t feel right being small enough for Percival to hold him in one arm like this.

And his ears still rang after the noise of the battle. They seemed more sensitive now than they had ever been in this form, and it almost hurt. But Percival’s gentle touch soothed away any discomfort, as it never failed to do.

Beau leaned into the caress, his fluffy tail thumping softly against Percival’s arm. He’d much rather be human than stuck in his animagus form--could he even shift back when he was like this?--but if this was the sort of attention Percival was going to give him for the duration, then maybe he’d be content to stay this way for a few hours before going to a healer.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

😱 -- @gravemagicks

Send “😱” to pick my muse up and kiss them.

@gravemagicks

Beau shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears and unsteadily got to his feet, wobbling a bit. He felt strange, like there was something off about his animagus form, but he couldn’t focus on that now.

Where was Percival? Beau knew he’d intercepted a spell of some sort while protecting his husband, so where–Oh, there he was. Looking down at Beau with the strangest expression on his handsome face. A mix of concern and…was that amusement? What was Percival smirking at him like that for?

Percival crouched and lifted Beau from the ground to cradle him in the crook of his arm like an infant, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head, right between his ears–

–Wait…how was Percival able to pick him up like that? His animagus form was a rather large breed of dog. That shouldn’t have been possible! Unless…oh, Dieu miséricordieux, he’d been turned into a pup!

Well, that explained the amusement in Percival’s expression.

And wouldn’t Velia just love to hear about this.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

More Than You Suppose

@gravemagicks

Continued from here

As small and cozy as his family home may be, the cottage still contained two--three if you included the cellar where his father kept his workshop--stories’ worth of rooms, and while Maurice was visiting with Belle and Adam at their manor Beau had the whole place to himself. It was a nice change for the first day or so, but Beau quickly grew lonely. If it hadn’t been for Percival’s visit, Beau was certain he would have ended up spending the night--and likely every night until his father returned home--in his office at the Ministry.

Having his soulmate there made the cottage feel it’s normal, comfortable size rather than the cavernous expanse it had felt like that morning.

He couldn’t help the way his breath caught as Percival stepped close and took his wrist, the phoenix on his forearm flaring bright as a neon light beneath his beloved’s gentle touch. His eyelids fluttered shut at the press of Percival’s lips against his own, and he slid his free arm around his soulmate’s waist, gently guiding Percival just a smidgeon closer. “Percival...je t’aime aussi, mon vaillant,” he murmured. “Ma moitié.”