ᵈᵘᵍ ˢᶦˣ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ

indie percival graves | penned by scotch

[carmineinkarchive]

                  there’s a story in my VEINS, scars on every page. it’s written on my face i’m a proud SURVIVOR. staring in the mirror, not holding back the tears, all the HURT that brought me here only takes me HIGHER.

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would anyone like to do anything? i want to try and be active here

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                                   They shall be left to FALL, as they are inclined by their own weight.

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look at me being productive. how about that

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// . QUEENIE

she makes the choice every morning to keep an eye out on him. her kitten heels click against the polished floor and she knows the way to his office like the beat of her own heart. he never asks her to dote on him, never calls her doll or demands she get him something to drink. in a lot of ways, that’s why she does bring him coffee. he never says he wants it, but a little conversation is something he surely needs.

❛   abernathy has me running all over makin’ it anyway, mister graves. don’t you worry, i don’t mind it.   ❜

queenie took care of many of the people there, going out of her way to travel to his department and office just to drop off coffee. on one hand, the company was welcoming even if it was fleeting most times. on the other, he didn’t want to get used to it. this would pass when she finally believed he was fine and things would get back to normal. that was how he wanted things to go.

‘ well, thank you, then. i appreciate it. ’

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// . LILY

FRUSTRATION BLOOMS,     she’s tired and scared and she just wants to find somewhere she can sit and cry.    she’s never going to make it home in time.   her time-turner was smashed and now she’s stranded,    here,   with no hope of survival.    “  look,   i know how it sounds but i just need to get home.   ”   she’s desperate,   trying to come up with anyone who might listen to her.    “  ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.      he’s alive now,   right?    i know him in the future.    if you can find him i can explain it to him.    i know things,    okay?    things i shouldn’t if i’m not who i say i am.     just get him.    i can explain it to him.   ”

           SHE WASN’T GOING ANYWHERE as long as she wasn’t telling the truth. her story was preposterous, there was no proof of it anywhere, and she was facing conviction for having exposed her magic to no-maj’s. the woman was caught up far too much in her fluster to be of any help, but he couldn’t leave her there without getting some sensible answers. “ we’ll try to contact him, but it will take a while. but for you, i need you to calm down. you’re frantic and it’s no help to either of us. ”

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// . SHIFTER

               bloody  knuckles  and  a  bruise  blooming  under  one  eye  says  he’s  right   //   everything  else  she’s  FOUGHT  FOR  says  otherwise.  this  was  BIGGER  than  she’s  faced  before  ——  she’s  fought ,  she’s  run ,  sure ,  but  she’s  not  been  arrested  before  like  this     (   and  it  brings  back  some  unpleasant  memories  than  set  her  on  edge   ).     “   if  we  do  it  in  the  RIGHT  place ,  no  one  LISTENS  to  us.   ”     she  mutters ,  gaze  only  briefly  flickering  up  to  him.     “   you  people  don’t  listen  to  us.   ”

                  A HEAVY SIGH, tired of the troubles that are lobbed at him one after the other. the fights she made and the stance she stood for were something he could understand. looking at her now without and prior knowledge, no one would guess she did not have the same rights as the rest. yet even though he had all of the information, he was going to treat her as a person, not as the creature the law required for him to see her as. rubbing at the corner of his eyes with his fingers, he looked to her after a moment. “ i know. yet did you think that doing something as risky as that could make you come across as creatures with no regards to rules that keep the entirety of the magic world, you included, safe?? already i heard one of my aurors say ‘ why give them being rights if they won’t follow being laws. ’ that’s not the impression you want to make. ”

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‘ it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are ’

              THAT WAS SOMETHING HE KNEW ALL TOO WELL. courage and tenacity had gotten graves to where he had been. his family had aspirations set out for him since a young age, yet he constantly rebelled against it when he could. he had painted his own path in life and there were very few regrets he had because of it. most people did not have the same chances he had been given, however. that was something he never underappreciated. “ courage and opportunity. it seems we have had both in our lives. ”

@bcwtruckled |poetry

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‘ i close my eyes and see infinite galaxies ’

         “ YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO. ” amelia’s open mindedness, he ability to see much more than the big picture, was something he always admired in her. she was strong willed and would fight for what she believed was right while branching out to see what possible outcomes she could. infinity even seemed too small compared to what she was capable of. “ you open your eyes and you still seem to see more. ”

@snowinabottle |poetry

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// . BILL

“I am still part werewolf, I could smell it before I even came in.” Bill pointed out, motioning to the scars on his face left by one certain encounter with a werewolf. “Sometimes you really make me wonder how you’ve survived this long.” Pure stubbornness and out of spite he would’ve bet, after all it seemed to be the driving force for the Director. “Let me take a look at it before you end up bleeding everywhere.”

        Part werewolf. That was something Graves knew, yet he wasn’t sure how far that part went. He knew Bill had an affinity for rarer meat, but that was as far as his knowledge went. Still, with the frustration that had built up, he had let the jab fly, only to be returned as a truth. Sighing, Graves stripped off his vest and set it aside, pulling up his shirt to see the wound freshly bleeding. Every time something like this happened, he was reminded to learn more healing spells. But for another day. “ If you can do anything useful for it, then be my guest. ”

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// . CREDENCE

With each step he is followed by a soft clattering of china, the tray in his hands as steady as he can make it, he hasn’t quite mastered the smooth carrying of objects like that, but he keeps telling himself not to worry about it, after all, Queenie is the one telling him not to. She’s been caught in other business and he is more than happy to help out, carrying out simple tasks like bringing coffee to the director himself.

It is an unsettling feeling to gaze upon the man’s face since it was worn by one of his tormentors, but he knows this man was a victim himself, used for his position and kept locked up as nothing more than a tool, much like himself. He hasn’t seen much of the real Mr. Graves, only a few glances, and he doesn’t quite look like the man he knew, he is thinner, the long months of torture is evident on his looks even after a long period of recovery. So far he had not one bad word towards Credence so he doesn’t mind bringing in his coffee, but the moment he approaches his desk he is forced into a halt.

The man is leaning over his desk, face against the wooden surface, slow breathing and no movement. He appears to be sleeping. Credence is not one to judge for such a behaviour and he doesn’t think it’s his place anyway. Eventually he decides to walk over to the desk, placing the tray down softly, wondering if he should just leave and let the man wake whenever he pleases. He considers his options for a few moments, thinking he could get in trouble if the coffee is cold by the time he awakens, so a slender finger reaches out to gently poke the man’s arm, immediately taking a step back in case of retribution.

Sleep had not been coming easy to him. Ever since his return, Graves’ nights have either been spent staring at the ceiling or passing out, only to find his sleep restless and nightmares plague at him. The only rest he could remember having in recent times was when he was still in the hospital, giving a potion to ease him to aid in his healing. Yet he didn’t want to rely on those any further. He could power through this.

Only he couldn’t. A few days without any sleep straight had wiped all of the energy from his body. His limbs felt too heavy to lift, daily chores seeming too menial for him to bother with. Though he had not slept, it was a great effort for him to get out of bed instead of lie there and sink into the mattress. Madame Picquery had given him more time off to recuperate, but he had to come back to MACUSA. His job was the only thing motivating him enough to move around. The lack of work, however, gave him time to sit behind his desk and, eventually, pass out on top of it.

The sound of the door and china fell on deaf ears as Graves slept on his desk, breathing soft as his head was cushioned in his arms. His eyes were shut, blind to the light and the shadows moving as Credence walked in and near him. It was the most rest he had gotten in so long, the product of exhaustion, yet he was slowly pulled from it when he felt something poke his arm. Brows furrowed as he was dragged from his sleep, groaning in the back of his throat before his eyes opened, squinted as he looked towards the other. He had to take a moment to gather himself, though he couldn’t lift himself from his position on the desk. “ Credence...?? ”

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// . AMELIA

       MAYBE IT WAS WRONG TO BELIEVE THAT SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGED, not even after years of seperation. after all the MACUSA was very different from everything they learned at school, a new order they had to put themselves under. the aurors risked their lives, did a great job out there and of course some of them had another view on no mags as amelia. WAR darkened their hearts, made it hard to distinguish friend from enemy, to stop the constant TENSION their bodies suffered from. it wasn’t amelias right to judge, neither to resent percival for becoming who he was. a LEADER. a strong person with an iron will, ready to PROTECT every drop of magic blood in america.  ❛ work is OVERWHEALMING at the moment, for all of us. ❜ , she just answered with a slight sign of a smile returning to red lips. she was surely not in the mood to fight over such stupid things, to stir a fire who used to be warming and not burning. ❛ and that’s what i’ve always appreciated when working with you. sometimes i seem to lose track. i am sorry. ❜ amelia took out some documents she wrote earlier, carefully putting them on her desk. she might have been a hotspur, but her sense for accurate paperwork was unique. ❛ there are reports about three incidents of WIZARDRY in the presence of no mags. ❜ , she started while showing him some photographs. ❛ i know this kind of stuff happens, even though its restricted, but as you might know these cases are different. there is no EVIDENCE of who did it, neither of it being a MISTAKE. ❜ pausing for a moment, amelia felt an uneasy tingle in her stomach rising up, the next words feeling all wrong. ❛ you know my point of view, but if this was done ON PURPOSE and to provoke an act of war . . this has to STOP. ❜

        THE SMILE HE SAW ON HER LIPS AIDED THE ONE TUGGING AT HIS OWN, though the expression was gone not long after it appeared. what he had been called there to talk about was a serious matter, one he would not want to take lightly even if the tension between them was slowly ebbing away. the jagged corners he faced most people with would have to be dulled a bit, at least towards those whose opinion he gives a damn about. amelia wasn’t like the aurors he had to deal with on a regular basis.

looking towards the papers she set aside, he leaned and lifted them off of the desk to leaf through. graves had heard of the incidents and dealt with one of them personally in tracking down whoever it was that had revealed magic to a no-maj. his gaze moved towards the photographs as she cycled through them, brows furrowing as she gave her opinion. it would make sense if this were to be an act of war. it would cause an uprise that they may not be able to fix on their own, or even contain if it got too out of hand. setting the documents aside, graves nodded his head. ‘ i AGREE. we’ve been aware of these cases and have been trying to find who it was that has been using magic in front of no-maj’s. the fact that these incidents have happened in a short time frame means there must be some method to it. the only thing connecting each incident is the witch or wizard who revealed their magic also wiped their face from the no-maj’s mind. they all said they knew someone showed them, but all they could remember was a dark cloud. ’

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‘ i long for a life i have control of ’ [ashamedheritage]

“ That’s something I would like to help you with, Credence… ” He never seemed to be in much control of his life, whether it was his life with Mary Lou or the power that would sometimes rage inside of him. The fact that he had enough control not to burst at the seams at a younger age showed so much potential for Credence to make his life something better for himself. One day, Graves hoped Credence would have the life he longed for, and he would be happy with it.

@ashamedheritage |poetry

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‘ you shine brighter than all the starlight there has ever been or ever will be. ’ [ashamedheritage]

“ You see in me much more than anyone else has even tried to look. Just know that you shine brightly in your own way as well. ” His hands moved to cup Credence’s face as he looked to him, making sure there was eye contact before he finished speaking.

“ Never burn out. ”

@ashamedheritage |poetry

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‘ how’s that for a happily ever after? ’

‘ most fairy tale happily ever after’s are created just to ease the minds of today’s children. most of them used to end more harshly as a sort of lesson to them. now it’s considered too scarring. ’

something he learned during his own childhood when he would sit there in the library of his family manor, reading a collection of tales that were not edited to have those happy endings. they were much more interesting to him than the later editions anyway.

@pukwitchy | poetry

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UNNECESSARILY DETAILED DISLIKES

Please repost, don’t reblog.

ANSWER THE QUESTIONS FOR YOUR MUSE AND TAG SOME PEOPLE.

MUSE NAME: percival graves

LEAST FAVORITE NICKNAME: peej, derived from his initials p.g. it was something the upperclassmen in ilvermorny would call him when they wanted to rag on him about something. it was usually the wampus house because he didn’t choose it when he had the choice.

LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: aubergine. the name just grates on him so purple just irritates him now.

LEAST FAVORITE SEASON: fall because everything gets gray and dies. winter he doesn’t care so much because he likes the snow, but he dislikes fall the most. 

LEAST FAVORITE WEATHER: hail or sleet. it’s just a nuisance and hurts if it’s big enough when it falls.

LEAST FAVORITE—HOT OR COLD: cold

LEAST FAVORITE HOLIDAY: his birthday, honestly. he doesn’t like celebrating it because, when he was younger, it was either this big thing or not worth it. his family would get together when there was a party, but it would be more formal and business like than he wanted. so he’s gotten into the habit of just not wanting to celebrate it or get gifts or anything.

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: he eats most things and has a pretty open mind to trying things. but if he has to not like something, he doesn’t like pasta dishes. no reason, he just doesn’t care for it.

LEAST FAVORITE FLAVOR: tooth achingly sweet. he likes it more when it’s subtle.

LEAST FAVORITE DRINK: he doesn’t care for flavored coffee so much. like french vanilla or caramel or something like that. he liked regular coffee with a bit of milk in it.

LEAST FAVORITE SCENT: gunpowder. he relates it to the smell of death, which is equally horrid to him.

LEAST FAVORITE SOUND: loud screeching, like nails on a chalkboard.

LEAST FAVORITE BOOK: machiavelli’s the prince. not that there wasn’t a lot to learn from it, but he was forced to read it when he was young and it just makes him grit his teeth.

LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE: noop

LEAST FAVORITE TV SHOW: noooooop

LEAST FAVORITE SCHOOL SUBJECT OR AREA OF STUDY: he doesn’t really have a class he took in ilvermorny that he didn’t like in some way.

LEAST FAVORITE ASPECT OF THEIR JOB: when the fucking wizards or witches he’s searching for get away

LEAST FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER: eh?? don’t know???

LEAST FAVORITE PERSON: grindelwald

LEAST FAVORITE TRAIT IN OTHERS: deceit

LEAST FAVORITE PLACE: his family manor

LEAST FAVORITE THING TO TALK ABOUT: his family

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEMSELVES: he can’t let some things go easily and it just eats at him.

LEAST FAVORITE DAILY CHORE: waking up. that’s a chore to him.

LEAST FAVORITE STYLE OF CLOTHING: he doesn’t like formal dress cloaks just because he hates how tight the collars are.

LEAST FAVORITE ACTIVITY: he doesn’t regularly do any activities?? most of what he does is his work, so i’m not sure.

LEAST FAVORITE SUPERPOWER: mind reading. it’s while he practices occlumency so much. he doesn’t want anyone touching his mind.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT HUMANITY IN GENERAL: how fighting between people just never seems to fucking end.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT BEING IN LOVE: getting your heart broken

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT DEATH: no one truly knows what’s after it.

TAGGED BY: @ashamedheritage TAGGING: whoever wants to do!!

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sorry i haven’t really been on!! been exhausted the past few days and didn’t really feel like doing anything. but i love you all and if you guys wanna do stuff, IM me or stuff