This Is Its Own WIP

Stuff to be added. Probably writing. "Make her to love the loathliest, basest wretch, Deform'd in body, and of moonstruck mind, A hideous brute and vicious, born to fetch Anger from dogs and cursing from the blind. And let her passion for the monster be As shameless and detestable as he Is most extreme and vile of humankind."

[imaginetheywerereal]

:p

Matserpost and Master lists

Fantastic Beasts

Sonic Prime

The Hollow

I don't take requests.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Hi,

I just wanted to say that I love the „Curse Breaker“ story. The plot is amazing and your writing style is great!

Oh. Thanks. I'll get back to it eventually. I sort of rotate between fandoms and ideas and there weren’t a lot of Gellert stories that aren’t Yandere so I started that one. I'm having a break from writing for now though. I appreciate the time you've taken to tell me you liked it I hope you have a good day.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Short Story: Ghosts of the Hollow

kay so just finished The Hollow. loved it. mostly watched it for the Weird Guy lol. Gustaf. The Game Host. so yes this is Gustaf(Weirdy) x Reader. the bit after the haunted metro. and Skeet lives. because add one thing and the rest is changed anyway:p oh uh btw real you died so mentions of death not graphic. season 2 stuff. so also spoilers ig? bit of angst some cute. some eh ig.

The Hollow Games were never meant to be easy, but this was something else entirely. Gustaf stood alone in the darkened corridors of the haunted metro station, the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows, making the environment feel even more oppressive.

You and the kids had navigated the haunted metro, dealing with the ghost train, and now you all had one goal in mind: finding a way to go home. Having been stuck in the game after every reset since your last game ten or fifteen years earlier, you were the most experienced. The kids, including Skeet who was alive thanks to your healing powers, looked to you for guidance, sensing you had been there the longest.

Finally, the journey led you to the jazz club, where Gustaf was meant to perform. Inside, the melancholy notes of the band echoed in the dimly lit space. You noticed things from the "previous game" but different—Benjamini, Benjamin, Death, and the Horsemen were there, but none of them remembered the kids or you. The kids were just starting to piece things together. You're used to it.

As Gustaf sat alone on the stage, playing the piano, the haunting melody of "Creep" by Radiohead filled the air. The lyrics were heavy with sorrow, and he was lost in the music. "I'm not supposed to be here," he sang, unaware of your presence.

Desperate to get his attention, the kids tried everything from using their powers to screaming at him. Each attempt was thwarted by Benjamini, Benjamin, and the crowd, leaving you no choice but to wait. You knew Gustaf would eventually come into the crowd like he always did—he was the crowd-walking performer type.

When Gustaf made his way through the crowd, he barely stuttered in his song when the kids finally reached him. "You're not supposed to be here!"

But when he saw you, he broke out of his trance. His eyes widened in shock and recognition.

"Are you real? Are you really here?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Yes, I'm here," you answered, stepping closer.

"I wish you were," he whispered again, this time with a mixture of hope and sorrow.

"I am real, at least I feel real, Gustaf," you replied.

"I mean, I wish I could see you again."

"I don't understand. You can?"

"No. I can't. You're... the other you, the real you, is dead. I—I killed you. Not literally. But if it wasn't for me, you—the real you would still be alive."

"Stop. Stop saying that," you insisted, reaching out to him. "I am real, Gustaf. I'm real. This is real. Help us. Help them. Please."

Gustaf's shoulders slumped, the weight of his guilt almost too much to bear. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the plea for understanding. Despite everything, he couldn't ignore the connection he felt, the bond that defied logic.

"I'll help you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard. Knowing what I know."

You nodded, your expression softening. "I know it's hard. But we're here now, and we need you."

As the band played a slow, mournful tune, you stepped closer to him. "May I have this dance?" you asked, your voice a gentle whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, then took your hand, pulling you into a slow, somber dance. The music wrapped around you both, a reminder of the losses and the love that still lingered.

"I wish things were different," Gustaf murmured.

"So do I," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "But for now, let's just be here. Together."

In that moment, amidst the haunted echoes and the lingering guilt, you found a small measure of peace. The dance, though tinged with sorrow, was a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was still a connection, a bond that refused to be broken.

As the music faded, Gustaf held you a little tighter. "Thank you," he whispered. "For being real to me."

"And thank you," you replied, "for not giving up."

One of the kids, unable to hold back any longer, interrupted the moment. "Uh, hello? We came here to ask for help on how to get home. Not to do...whatever you two are doing."

You and Gustaf shared a small, sad smile before turning your attention back to the task at hand. Together, you would find a way to get everyone home. Even if it meant you wouldn't.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Sonic Prime Masterlist

Chaos council

Chaos Council and PA

Dr Deep

Stress relief

Yoga Session

Late-Night Focus

Bathing Together

Inner Storm

Dr Deep drabble

Missed it

Tangled threads p1

in his arms p2

[imaginetheywerereal]

Chaos Council PA Drabbles

Personal assistant of the chaos council. more little bored drabbles. idk why more people don't write these they're pretty fun and aren't as stressful and you can edit them until its exactly 100 or exactly 200 for writing practice. They dont gotta be super long to tell as story. idk if i should tag the council as x reader too or not.

Drabble 1: Dr. Babble

The Chaos Council chamber was quiet, save for the soft babbling of the smallest member. You approached Dr. Babble’s egg chair, watching as he babbled waving his tiny fists furiously. Despite his size, there was an undeniable intelligence in his eyes.

“You’re quite the little enigma, aren’t you?” you murmured.

Dr. Babble responded with more incoherent babbles, but somehow, you understood. It was as though his thoughts were perfectly clear, in spite of the fact that his words weren’t. In that moment, you felt a strange connection to the tiny genius, understanding the chaos that hid behind his innocent eyes.

Drabble 2: Dr. Don’t

In his section of the Yoke, Dr. Don’t was immersed in his game, the glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses. You hesitated before approaching, unsure if he’d welcome the interruption.

“Need any help?” you asked tentatively.

Dr. Don’t glanced up, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. “Only if you’re any good at this game.”

You chuckled, cracking your knuckles. “Let’s find out.”

While playing, you discovered a side of Dr. Don’t that was competitive yet strangely endearing. Despite his obsession with winning, there was a camaraderie forming between you, built on shared victories and playful banter.

Double Drabble: Dr. Deep

The sleek, metallic skyline of New Yoke City shimmered under the artificial lights. You and Dr. Deep sat on a balcony, overlooking the city. He was lost in thought, his usual theatrics replaced by a rare moment of introspection.

“You ever wonder what it’s all for?” you asked quietly.

Dr. Deep glanced at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Every day. This city, the council, all of it—it’s a delicate balance.”

You leaned back, feeling the weight of his words. “And where do we fit into that balance?”

He sighed, looking out at the horizon. “We’re the ones who make sure it doesn’t tip. It’s not glamorous, but it’s necessary.”

You nodded, the silence stretching between you. In that moment, you realised that beneath Dr. Deep’s confident exterior was a man who understood the gravity of their roles. He was ambitious, yes, but there was also a deep sense of responsibility that guided his actions.

As the night wore on, you talked about everything and nothing, finding comfort in the shared understanding. Dr. Deep’s presence was a steady anchor in the chaotic world of New Yoke City, and you knew that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Drabble 4: Mr. Dr. Eggman

Mr. Dr. Eggman’s lab was a mess of gadgets and blueprints. Watching him tinker, with a manic energy you crossed the threshold.

“Want a hand?” you offered.

He had a crazed gleam in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what I’m building here?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn't mind learning.”

He handed you a wrench, a rare smile breaking through his usual scowl. “Alright, but don’t mess it up.”

Working with him you saw a new side of Mr. Dr. Eggman—one that was passionate and driven, albeit slightly unhinged. For a moment, you felt privileged to be helping.

Drabble 5: Dr. Done-It

Dr. Done-It sat in his hover chair, coffee in hand, reading fresh reports. You approach with caution. 

“Morning,” you greeted.

Looking as gruff as always. “Morning. What brings you here?”

You shrugged, seated across from him. “Just checking in.”

Dr. Done-It sighed, setting down his cup. “It’s the same old story. The youngins do something, and I’m to clean up the mess.”

You offered a sympathetic smile. “A tough job.”

The hint of a smile twitched the hair of his moustache. “It is. Can’t count on them whippersnappers for anything.”

He carried a burdensome weight of responsibility on his shoulders. 

[imaginetheywerereal]

in his arms

sort of a carry on from the last one. drabble.

The weight of the day slowly lifts. Dr. Deep’s presence was warm and comforting as you settled on the couch. His arms around you, a shield against the world’s chaos.

“You’ve been carrying so much,” he murmured, “It’s okay to rest.”

Snuggling into him you feel the rise and fall of his chest. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

Cocooned in his warmth, the tension began to ebb. His presence, steady, grounding you amidst the storm of emotions. In his arms, you allowed yourself to relax, finding solace in the comfort of his embrace.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Tangled threads

double drabble.

The room was quiet, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. You sat with Dr. Deep, trying to untangle the whirlwind of emotions that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“I don’t understand my own feelings,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like I can only feel through books or other people. I can’t tell what’s mine.”

Dr. Deep leaned back, thinking. “Emotions are complex, they’re like a web connecting everything around us. Sometimes, we get tangled in those threads.”

You sighed, the confusion gnawing at you. “It’s stressful, not knowing what I actually feel.”

He looked at you, gaze steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. Think of it as an uncharted map. Start marking the places you visit through books or interactions. Over time, you’ll see your path more clearly.”

You nodded, a glimmer of hope surfacing. “So, it’s okay to take it slow?”

“Absolutely,” he said softly. “Emotions aren’t a race. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

In that moment, the burden felt a little lighter. With Dr. Deep’s wisdom and support, you knew you could start navigating the maze of your emotions, one thread at a time.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Missed it

200 words

The wind howled through the abandoned alleyways, a mournful echo of the chaos that had once thrived there. Dr. Deep stood amidst the debris, his mind a storm of regrets and memories. The words you had left behind still haunted him, etched into his soul like a scar.

“You’re nothing without me,” he whispered, repeating the last thing you said before walking away. The emptiness that followed had been suffocating, the silence deafening.

He clenched his fists, the anger bubbling beneath the surface. The council had driven you away, convinced that your love was a distraction. Now, he was alone, consumed by the very emptiness they had assured him was necessary for success.

In a moment of despair, Dr. Deep fell to his knees, the weight of his grief crashing down on him. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

The rain began to fall, mingling with his tears, each drop a reminder of what he had lost. His heart ached with the realization that he had pushed you away, believing it was the right thing to do. Now, all he wanted was to turn back time, to hold you close and never let go.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Dr Deep drabble

100 words exactly. is a drabble

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Dr. Deep stirred, feeling the comforting weight of your arm draped across his chest. He opened his eyes to find you snuggled close, your face serene and peaceful.

A smile tugged at his lips as he watched you sleep, your steady breathing a soothing rhythm. Slowly, he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, marvelling at how something so simple could bring him such joy.

You murmured in your sleep, shifting closer and Dr. Deep’s heart swelled with affection. Right in that moment, everything felt perfect.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Inner Storm

a double drabble. defined by being 200 words exactly.

The rain pelted against the window, mirroring the turmoil inside of him. Dr. Deep sat slumped at his desk, eyes fixed on the schematic he’d been staring at for hours. The lines blurred as tears threatened to spill. He had pushed everyone away, buried himself in his work, but the ache of loneliness persisted.

You entered the room quietly, heart breaking at the sight of him so defeated. Without a word, you moved to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched at first, then relaxed under your touch.

“Deep,” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He looked up, eyes red and swollen, the weight of his struggles evident. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Everything’s falling apart.”

You knelt beside him, taking his hand in yours. “We’ll figure it out together,” you promised. “I’m here for you. Always.”

Dr. Deep let out a shuddering breath, leaning into your embrace. The warmth of your presence seeped into him, slowly easing the tension. As the rain continued to fall, you held him close, offering the comfort he so desperately needed. Together, you’d face the storm.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Bathing Together: Relaxation

Dr. Deep’s quarters. You and Dr. Deep share a relaxing bath, helping each other unwind and destress.

Bathing Together

The bathroom was filled with the gentle sound of water running as Dr. Deep prepared a warm bath. The steam created a soft haze, and the scent of lavender filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere.

You stepped into the bathroom, smiling at the inviting scene. “This looks perfect,” you said, your voice full of appreciation.

Dr. Deep smiled back, his eyes softening. “I thought we could use some relaxation after everything.”

You both slipped into the warm water, feeling the tension of the day melt away. Dr. Deep leaned back against the tub, his eyes closing in contentment. You moved closer, taking a sponge and gently washing his back, your movements slow and soothing.

“This is nice,” he murmured, his voice a soft hum of relaxation.

You smiled, continuing to wash his back with gentle, circular motions. “You deserve it, Deep. You’ve been working so hard.”

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” he said softly.

You switched places, allowing him to take the sponge and wash your back in return. His touch was gentle, the rhythmic motion of the sponge soothing your muscles.

As you both settled back into the warm water, you leaned against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing created a comforting rhythm, and you closed your eyes, savouring the moment of peace.

“Sometimes, it’s the small things that matter the most,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft sound of the water.

Dr. Deep pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I couldn’t agree more.”

In the quiet comfort of the bath, you both found a sense of tranquillity, the stresses of the day fading away as you focused on each other. It was a moment of pure, uncomplicated intimacy, a reminder of the strength of your bond.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Late-Night Focus

Dr. Deep’s Lab. It’s late, and Dr. Deep is deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his lips forming a pout. You walk in, noticing his intense focus.

You quietly approached Dr. Deep, who was lost in thought, his brow furrowed and his lips forming a pout. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked softly, standing beside him.

Dr. Deep glanced up, his pout deepening slightly. “Just trying to solve this problem. It’s more complex than I thought.”

You leaned in closer, your hand gently brushing against his arm. “You’re so cute when you think.”

His eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I—what?”

You chuckled, your heart swelling with affection. “I mean it. That little pout you have when you’re deep in thought is adorable.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, effectively kissing his pout away. Dr. Deep’s eyes fluttered closed, and he melted into the kiss, his tension easing.

When you pulled back, he looked at you with a mix of surprise and affection. “You always know how to distract me,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth.

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Sometimes you need a little distraction. Now, why don’t we take a break and relax?”

Dr. Deep sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. “Alright, just for a little while.”

You pulled him into a hug, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet comfort you found in each other’s embrace.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Yoga Session Mishap

Dr. Deep and you are having a relaxing yoga session. Dr. Done-It interrupts, complaining about his aching ageing body.

i wrote this one after watching that stupid movie "couples retreat". i could not not laugh at the yoga bit. i legitimately could not breath. this isnt nearly as funny. its not funny at all really i was just really bored and remembered Deep likes doing yoga when hes stressed out.

Yoga Session

The room was filled with the soft glow of candles and the soothing sound of ambient music. Dr. Deep had suggested a yoga session to help both of you unwind and stretch out the tension from the day.

You both moved through the poses gracefully, matching each other’s pace. Dr. Deep’s movements were fluid and practiced, a testament to his dedication to the practice.

“You’re really good at this,” you commented, following his lead into a downward dog pose.

He smiled, maintaining his pose. “It helps me stay centred. Plus, it’s a great way to relax.”

Just as you were transitioning into the next pose, the door swung open, and Dr. Done-It shuffled in. “Still doing your ‘yoghurt’ nonsense Deep? My back is killing me just watching the pair of you stretching like pretzels?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his grumpy demeanour. “It’s yoga, Done-It, not yoghurt. Maybe you should join us. It might help your aching body.”

Dr. Deep chuckled, straightening up from his pose. “He knows what its called, he just says that to wind me up. You're right though, Done-It should listen to you more yoga can be very beneficial.”

Dr. Done-It grumbled but looked intrigued. “Fine, show me how to do this ‘yoghurt’ thing.”

You guided him through some basic stretches, trying not to laugh at his attempts. Despite his complaints, he seemed to be getting the hang of it.

As the session continued, the atmosphere lightened, filled with laughter and playful banter. It was a perfect mix of relaxation and fun, with Dr. Deep’s presence making it all the more special.

short because thats literally all i could think of to write and the muse ran away but fuck it ill post anyway.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Stress Relief and Confrontation

Dr. Deep comes "home" after a stressful meeting with the Chaos Council, feeling tense and frustrated. You’re there to help him unwind and relax. This is followed by confronting the Chaos Council.

bored and i was binging sonic prime and wrote a bunch of crap for dr deep. bc he has nothing and tagging is a bitch.

The Tense Return

Dr. Deep stormed into his quarters, the door sliding shut with a quiet hiss. The air was thick with his frustration, every movement radiating his pent-up tension. The Chaos Council meeting had been an unmitigated disaster, leaving him burdened with their impossible expectations.

You looked up from the couch, immediately sensing his distress. The hunch of his shoulders, the furrowed brows—every part of him screamed frustration and exhaustion.

“Deep, what happened?” you asked softly, your voice filled with concern.

He sighed, running a hand through his teal hair. “The Council. They’re impossible. Nothing I do is ever good enough. They question every decision, every plan. It’s infuriating.”

You stood, crossing the room to him. “Come here,” you said gently, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

He sat down heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I’m just so tired of it all.”

You could see the strain etched into his features. Without a word, you gently pushed him back against the cushions and began massaging his tense shoulders. “Let me help you relax,” you murmured.

He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. “That feels amazing,” he mumbled, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your skilled hands.

You continued to work on his shoulders, your fingers kneading the knots and tightness out of his muscles. “You work so hard, Deep. You deserve to unwind.”

He opened his eyes, looking up at you with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual.

You leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to think about that. I’m always here for you, Deep.”

He smiled, visibly more relaxed. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I just need to remember that.”

“Always,” you reassured him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. “You mean the world to me.”

You waited for Deep to fall asleep before gently moving him so you could get up to deal with the shitty Council for stressing out your partner.

Confronting the Chaos Council

With Deep resting you decided it was time to address the real issue. The Chaos Council had been harsh on him for far too long, and you weren’t going to stand for it any longer.

You found the council members in their usual meeting room, deep in discussion. You didn’t wait for an invitation to speak.

“We need to talk,” you said, your voice sharp and commanding.

Dr. Done-It looked up, surprised and annoyed. “What is it now?”

The shadows in the room seemed to grow and lurch with your rising anger, casting an ominous pall over the council members. You fixed them with a steely gaze, your demeanor shifting from cutesy supportive partner to something far more intimidating.

“I’ve had enough of your nonsense. You need to stop treating Deep like garbage. He’s been working tirelessly, to locate the rebels and instead of helping him, you’re making his job ten times harder.”

Mr. Dr. Eggman raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes. “We’re only doing what’s best for the project.”

“No,” you snapped back, your voice icy and unyielding. “You’re undermining his efforts and making him feel like nothing he does is good enough. If you keep treating each other like crap because of your clashing ideas you're all going to crash and burn and you will continue to fail. That’s not how you lead a team. Here’s the deal: you either start treating him with the respect he deserves, or I’ll make sure every one of you regrets it.”

Dr. Don’t tried to interject, but you silenced him with a glare that could melt steel. “If you don’t start treating him properly, I will personally see to it that your lives become a living hell. Apologise to him, when he returns.”

The council members exchanged frightened glances, realizing the gravity of your threat. The air in the room was thick with tension.

Dr. Done-It finally spoke up, his voice trembling. “We... we’re sorry. We didn’t realise how hard we were making things for him.”

“You’d better, apologise to him, not me.” you growled, your voice carrying the weight of a storm. “For his sake, and for the sake of your project.”

Aftermath and Reassurance

As you walked back to Dr. Deep’s quarters, you felt a sense of satisfaction. Confronting the Chaos Council wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. And you knew it would make a world of difference for Dr. Deep.

When you returned, Dr. Deep looked up at you with a smile. “I heard what you did. Mr. Dr. Eggman had his comms on speaker. He always does that. Let me just say, you’re terrifying, when you want to be. Thank you.”

You sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours. “You deserve better, Deep. And I’ll always be here to make sure you get it.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m lucky to have you.”

[imaginetheywerereal]

Fantastic beasts Masterlist

The Curse Breakers Heart

Gellert Grindelwald x GN Reader

Part one-Part two-Part three-Part four

[imaginetheywerereal]

The Curse Breaker's Heart part 3

part 1 , part 2

1775 wc

What an… interesting establishment. An odd choice for dinner. I’ve never thought to try out the Muggle side of things. It's actually rather impressive and very tasteful.

The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of cutlery filled the air, creating a cosy, intimate atmosphere. The scent of freshly cooked meals wafted through the restaurant, mingling with the faint aroma of candle wax.

Percival, sat across from you in the dimly lit Muggle restaurant. The soft glow of candlelight cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to read his expression. You took a sip of your wine, your mind racing with memories of the war and the man you once knew.

Eight years ago, after the war, Percival had proposed to you, and that was the last time you had seen each other. You had always assumed he was busy with his duties as Head Auror and Director at MACUSA, which would have explained his absence at the political gala in Paris two months earlier. But now without the distractions of work, sitting across from him, something definitely felt off. 

Other than his magical signature which you’d been intimately familiar with he wasn't much different. His mannerisms and speech patterns were unchanged. Then again we havent seen eachother in eight years. You could just be paranoid from years spent as a Curse Breaker constantly on edge and his just happened to be remarkably similar to Grindelwald’s, and he you’d only met once. Get a grip Potter!

 You took another sip of your wine, trying to calm your racing thoughts. However, the rich, velvety taste lingering on your tongue did little to soothe the turmoil within. The memories of the war, the proposal, and the years of dangerous work all swirled in your mind. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but you also couldn’t ignore the possibility that your own experiences were clouding your judgement.

Gellert watched you carefully. He could sense your unease and knew he had to tread carefully. He maintained his calm demeanour, mimicking Percival’s mannerisms perfectly. But inside, he was calculating his next move, aware that any slip-up could expose his true identity.

“Are you quite alright?” he asked, his voice gentle and concerned. “You seem a bit… distant.”

You forced a smile, trying to push away your doubts. “I’m fine,” you replied. “Just a lot on my mind.” The revelation of an Obscurial in America notwithstanding.

The newly discovered Obscurial in America was weighing heavily on your mind. It was a significant discovery, but it didn’t seem appropriate to bring up work-related topics at dinner. You already knew the kind of uproar just the insinuation of its existence would provoke.

Your fingers drummed lightly on the table, a subtle sign of your unease. The rich aroma of the food mingled with the soft combined glow of the electric lights and candles, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in your mind. The revelation of an Obscurial in America was a pressing concern, but you knew you had to tread carefully. Any mention of it now could raise suspicions.

Gellert nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I understand. It’s been a long time, and much has changed.”

“It’s been a long time since we last met,” you said, your voice steady but your heart pounding. “I’m glad you’re still willing to talk to me after how things ended between us.”

Percival’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“Yes, it has been a long time, hasn’t it?” he replied smoothly, mimicking Percival’s calm and composed demeanour. “And as I said much has changed since then.”

You hummed in agreement, but the nagging suspicion remained. You decided to keep a close eye on “Percival,” determined to uncover the truth, no matter what it took. Your shared past didn’t matter when lives were at stake, no matter how fond the memories. People changed but not this much, surely. 

The doubt gnawed at you. The Percival you knew would have brought up the break up or even asked about your travels, he’d always been like that earnest and forgiving, interested in your lifestyle. You regret all of the unread letters he used to send you before they stopped recently. You reminisce on your time with him when you were younger, before the war and before you transferred to Hogwarts, how earnest Percival always was, his sincerity shining through in every word. It was one of the things you admired most about him, even if it sometimes felt like too much.

You recalled the time he helped you prepare for your Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. Not noticing the perturbed expression that crosses your dinner partner's face as you become lost in the memories as you spoke.

You were struggling to cast a Patronus, and he stayed up late with you in the Ilvermorny library, patiently guiding you through the incantation. It was during those late-night study sessions that you first started to see Percival in a different light. His patience and encouragement made you feel supported and understood. His ability to cast a perfect fully corporeal Patronus was awe-inspiring. You admired his skill and dedication, and it was in those moments that your feelings for eachother began to grow.

Thinking back to those days, it was hard to reconcile the supportive and patient young man you knew with the distant figure sitting across from you now.

 “How have you been?” you asked, probing gently. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Not since… Well you know…”

Gellert hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. “I’ve been… well, I suppose. There are gaps in my memory from that time. It’s been difficult to piece everything together.”

As he spoke, Gellert’s mind raced. How was he supposed to know that Percival could cast a fully corporeal Patronus as a child? This was a detail he hadn’t anticipated. Nor the familiarity between the two of you. There was only so much digging one could do in a person's mind before they shut down from exhaustion. He had known about Percival’s exceptional talent in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he was Head of the American Aurours after all. But this revelation complicated things, making it even more challenging to maintain his disguise.

Frustration bubbled beneath the surface. He would have to adapt quickly, ensuring that his deception remained intact despite this unexpected detail. 

Gellert prided himself on his own magical prowess, but even he hadn’t mastered a fully corporeal Patronus, they say dark wizards were incapable of such feats, but Gellert knew only the intent mattered where magic was concerned; Patronus’ were the tangible representation of a casters love and joy, requiring ones most treasured memories to cast, many dark wizards were deemed incapable, Gellert knew differently. Percival’s early achievement was impressive, to say the least. He didn’t have many fond memories to power such a spell.

Your suspicion deepened. The real Percival would never have forgotten such significant events, he might’ve been a workaholic, but he’d never forget something like that. This man was hiding something, and you were determined to find out what. Or perhaps you insensitive dolt he had an accident on the job and literally cannot remember. Stop being so suspicious, he was your friend once. And an accident would explain the lack of letters… or and it pained you to think, he had finally gotten over you.

You wanted to be happy for him but it was just so hard.

“You know,” you said, wanting a change in subject matter, leaning back in your chair, “I met Gellert Grindelwald at that Gala in Paris. Can you believe it? I actually kind of liked him at first.”

Gellert’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. “Really?” he said, feigning casual interest, leaning onto Percival’s hand tilting his head as he gazed at you attentively.

“Yes,” you continued, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. “He approached me, apologising for disturbing me. Acting all concerned. At first, I thought he was charming, if not a bit weird. Didn’t take me too long to come to my senses, I quickly realised he was probably manipulating me. I gave him the slip to find Albus, hoping to never cross paths again.”

Gellert forced a smile, crinkling the corners of Percival’s eyes to avoid suspicion, his chest tightening.

 “People can be deceiving,” he said, choosing his words carefully and returning to his previous position to observe you as you appeared to be doing to him.

You nodded, watching him closely.

 “Indeed. It’s hard to know who to trust these days.”

Gellert’s mind raced. He hadn’t known about your connection to Percival or Albus (perhaps he could have guessed as much after the turn out of the Gala), nor had he anticipated the depth of your history. He would have to tread carefully, ensuring his deception remained intact while navigating the complexities of your past. Or he’d have to find some other way to get to the Obscurus with his cover blown.

After the food was finished and the conversations remained rather stagnant, you decided to take your leave. Resolving to reflect on the evening’s events with a clear but critical mind, you made your way back to your temporary lodgings during your stay in the country.

 As you walked, you replayed the interactions with Percival in your head, analysing each word and gesture. The subtle nuances of his demeanour, the unexpected hesitations, and the uncharacteristic remarks all began to form a clearer picture. Unable to shake the feeling that something was off, and you knew that understanding the true nature of these changes would be crucial in the days to come. As you had no doubt the pair of you would be working in close proximity once more to get to the bottom of the recent case, it was imperative to remain vigilant and discerning. 

Gellert watched you leave the restaurant, his mind racing. He had managed to maintain his disguise, but your suspicions were growing. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

Back at his hideout, or rather Percival's apartment, Gellert reviewed his plan. He needed to find out more about your connection to Percival and ensure his cover remained intact. He couldn't let his guard down, not for a moment. Not when he was so close.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Committing to investigate Percival's recent activities, hoping to find answers. As you dug deeper, you noticed inconsistencies in his behaviour and gaps in his story. The more you uncovered, the more your suspicions grew. 

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[imaginetheywerereal]

The Curse Breakers Heart part 2

Part 1, Part 3

2683 wc

Unfortunately for you, your silent prayer to never see Grindelwald again went unanswered. Not for a lack of trying on your part, any news you heard that involved the Dark wizard you went searching the muggle scientific research papers for archaeological dig sites near ancient magical communities on the opposite side of the world.

The next time you saw each other wasn’t because of some wild plot of Albus’ to thwart his old “friend’s” plans, as you had discovered his last favour from you had been. A plot to put an end to Grindelwald, well, to put him away. A precious waste of your time is what it was. The pandemonium that followed your departure made headlines. GELLERT GRINDELWALD ESCAPES AUROR CUSTODY.

No, instead you had literally run into him while on a job.

 The first and on your hope last meeting with him had soured you towards your friend and you ignored any of Albus’ attempts at correspondence for the past two months where your work led you to New York. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation as you thought about Albus. His last favour had been a disaster, and you had no intention of getting caught up in his schemes again. But work was work, and the disturbances in Queens needed to be dealt with.

Some wild, magical in nature, disturbances ripping up houses in Queens.

Usually when local Aurors were having trouble locating and containing the source of potentially dangerous magic, they called in the Curse Breakers. Being that wizards rarely chose logic and reason over magic and simplicity it was lucky(or unlucky) someone thought to implement this — mind you it was after some poor sod was cursed by some ancient magical artefact while clearing out a suspected fugitives safehouse. Now when needed the nearest Curse Breakers were called on to sort things out before the muggles got too involved or suspicious of activities and exposed the wizarding world. (The next on call would have been The Unspeakables. For obvious reasons they are usually the last resort.)

Considering you were in the country while MACUSA’s Curse Breakers weren’t, you got the call. They’d send you in to assess the damage and to ward it until something can be done about it if it turns out uncurse related.

 It didn’t appear to be.

The air in Queens was thick with the scent of smoke and magic, the remnants of the disturbances still lingering. The houses looked like they had been torn apart by some unseen force, debris scattered across the streets.

You stood atop the stairs of what remained of the brick and mortar building. Gloved hand pressed against the doorframe, dragon hide, anything less and you’d be exposing yourself to potentially active curse magic. Which would be a rookie mistake. Even the most harmful of curses had little to no effect on the tough insides of a chinese fireball, known for their diet of increasingly deadly magical creatures. 

[Yes, you had magic gloves made out of dragon guts. Magical PPE(Personal Protective Equipment)  is a thing.]

The property was vacant and so far you hadn't found anything. It was early. Maybe midday. You weren’t certain. You're not the best at keeping track of the time. The muggle authorities had moved on after a few pointed confundus charms from you while your team set up the perimeter wards. Before you could really start digging in the rubble, you were told to wait for the MACUSA Aurors to arrive on scene, orders from the Head of the department. You scoffed at that, outside of your team, the extra hands would be more of a hindrance than a help, so you and your team ignored the order.

 From your vantage point you could potentially reach all corners of the buildings remains to descry the potentially harmful curse magic. You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes to focus, extending your magical senses across the perimeter, feeling every brick and crushed ornament and insect, and the unsettled calm of your subordinates lingering around the site doing their own scouring of the rubble. Multiple cracks rippling through the air on the premises broke your focus just as you thought you felt the rumbling dark and pain filled origins of whatever caused this… wreckage.

“NILES!” You bellowed — internally panicking when you felt that oh so familiar magic of His. not safe. liar. — at your usually competent second. Ignoring the presence of the new arrivals, aside from this little slip up, you had full confidence in your team's abilities, you did all serve together in the first war eight years ago, after all. Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb or however that Muggle saying about chosen bonds goes.

“It wasn’t me, Boss , I swear it. We triple checked the anti-apparition wards inlaid with the anti-muggle ones.” The wiry sandy blonde implored. His dark eyes desperately seeking your own as if to convince you of his innocence.

Rubbing the bridge of your nose you waved him off frustration ebbing and mixing with fear. “Fine, fine! Just back me up if–”

You cut yourself off when you met the once familiar dark eyes of a man that had a magical signature practically identical to Grindelwalds. Except he wasn’t. This was the face of the Head Auror of MACUSA. “Director Graves.”  you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

 A man with a reputation quite opposite to Grindelwalds. Your–

“I-” you choked your words back. What were you even supposed to say to the man on the business end of your wand; tip pointed between his eyes? I’m sorry for leaving. Or how about: Gee sorry mister didn't see ya there, thought you were the fugitive Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald… How’d I figure that you ask? Well see, your magical aura feels exactly like his did the single time I met him. Or I could pretend to speak french– “That's stupid.” 

“I agree. Now if you wouldn’t mind lowering your wand… Potter, am I correct in assuming? Apologies if I'm wrong, but I do believe I requested the Head Curse Breaker on scene to halt the investigation until my Aurors and I arrived on the premises.” 

You looked away, assessing, lowering your wand but keeping it at the ready, something wasn’t right.

Nothing. He didn’t recognise you. Or he did and pretended he didn’t. You would feel hurt by his professional persona, if it wasn’t your fault, separating personal lives from one's career that had been the excuse you'd given him hadn’t it? Your rejection. Ouch. Karma’s a bitch and she hates me.

Your hand trembled slightly as you lowered your wand, but you kept it at the ready. Graves’ eyes were dark and unreadable, his posture rigid and commanding. The flicker of recognition—or lack thereof—in his gaze was a dagger to your heart.

Had you still been looking at him, you would have noticed Percival’s lips twist in that same charming way Grindelwald’s had at the function when you had been making light of his person. You would have seen him reaching out to grasp the same shoulder he had that night, before he thought better of it, instead combing it through the hair on the head that wasn’t his with a face that didn’t belong to him. His smile fell away from Percival’s face when you turned back to him with a forced one of your own. It was more of a grimace.

You looked away, assessing the situation. “Yes, Director Graves,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

 “I apologise for the oversight. We were merely trying to ensure the area was secure. It won’t happen again Sir.” Ignoring the feeling in your gut that something was terribly off about him you cast a silent arresto momentum on yourself and you floated down to give your team orders to continue to search the premise without your scrying. It wasn't something you did with so many clashing magical signatures, it confused the magic and the results. Hence the hindrance of too many wizards and witches.

Gellert furrowed Graves’ brow watching you and your team for a few seconds before snapping out of his funk. Directing Percival’s Aurors to follow your lead. He wasn’t here for you. His vision’s pointed to an Obscurus being one stepping stone path to getting him the power he desired. After meeting you they had admittedly become clouded. Gellert stubbornly refused any of these futures. They didn’t align with the path he had chosen for himself. He was here for a child. Your presence here was just an added boon. That’s all.

When he had the child in his grasp he would leave. And you would gallivant around the globe doing your job. Like you were meant to.

“Boss! We found something!” CB Niles’ voice was filled with urgency, but before you could react, the ground erupted sending rubble, shrapnel and wizards alike flying. 

At last the source of the destruction.

You fell on your arse eyes wide in horror. A broken whisper on your lips. “...no–”

Pain. Anger. Fear. Hate. Rage. The emotions rippled from the Dark Cursed Beasts form. Holding you in place. Frozen stiff as if you'd been hit with a petrificus totalus. Overwhelmed by its aura. Its absolute pain. You clutched your head, your fingers digging into your scalp as if you could physically hold back the onslaught. Your body trembled, every muscle locked in place by the sheer force of the Obscurial’s anguish. You cried out in agony. Holding your head as it screamed, its mind shredded at your fortified occlumency shields. Trying to get in. To get you to understand. To get you to STOP THE PAIN. TO HELP HIM. HELP ME PLEASE IT HURTSHURTSEVERYTHINGHURTSPAINPAINMAKEITSTOP—

Flashes of memories, not your own barge through your occlumency shields before they were repaired, trapping them in your mind.

“STOP. PLeASE. YOU’rE HUrTInG ME. Ma Stop PLeaSE I’lL bE GoOd.” A belt, small frail hands, cold hard blue eyes. Blood.

“I’ll be good i promise. PLEASE STop. HUrts HuRts sO much.”

“WHAt dId I dO whatdidido?”

“I’ll stop. I wont do it anymore.”

“I’m not A frEaK. I sweAr I’m not.”

“I didn’t mean to. It was Chasy. MA please.”

They continue to rush in even as you force them out. The horrible memories of the tortured boy play in your mind on loop.

“I didn’t do it.”

“stop”

“please”

“help me.

“somebody.”

“Anybody help me.”

“Its not your fault Credence.”

“DON’T YOU LAY ANOTHER HAND ON HIM”

“I won’t let her hurt you Credence. You’re safe now–

“LIAR!LIARLIAR. PAIN.LIAR.”

“BOSS! Boss! BOSS! Can you hear ME? BOSS?” Niles?

…NILES! 

You jolted forwards snapping awake with a gasp and bashing heads with whatever idiot thought to lean over you. You groan. “Ough. Head. Hurts. Bag now.”

“Yes Boss. Here Boss.” Niles was quick to obey. He’d only seen you this out of it a handful of times he knew better than to challenge you on such things.

“Caleb. Drink” a second man shorter with red hair scrambled to summon your canteen of water to wash down the healing herbs you began chewing to ease the throbbing ache in your skull.

“Yes Boss.”

Once you were reoriented and on your feet you wasted no time at all sweeping the area for magical residue. To find the Cursed Beast. The Obscurial. A child. Forgetting about the present company, your team followed your lead.

 The air was thick with the scent of dust and magic, the remnants of the explosion still lingering. The ground beneath you felt cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the searing pain in your head.”

While the Aurors had attempted to contain it when you were thrashing on the ground. Gellert found he couldn’t do anything. Stuck at a crossroads. Paralysed by indecision. You or his future. Power or you.

He took too long and the decision had been made for him when the Obscurus broke through the wards he himself had weakened in order to get in. Your condition improved and he did nothing.

You finished what you came to do. Found the disturbance. Now, you needed to track it down. First thing was first.

“Deacon, I want you and Caleb to repair the building and tear down the rest of the wards. We are done here. Cameron, Niles and I will get started on our reports.” code for we’re going after it.

Your ginger comrade immediately denied. “Negative Boss we’ll go with you. The Aurors can fix their own mess.”

Peeling your gloves off you thought about how you would answer. Ultimately deciding your team was better qualified so you turn to Director Graves who had a vacant look on his face that disappeared the moment your attention was on him. Strange. The off feeling from earlier hadn’t gone away when the Obscurial departed, if anything it grew in close proximity to the man you had rejected the advances of when you were both fresh from the war. Maybe he feels scorned. Maybe he was the reason the Obscurial reacted so violently…if so he needs to be questioned. But not now and not by me. 

Your mind raced as you considered the possibilities. Could Graves have been the reason the Obscurial reacted so violently? The off feeling you had around him hadn’t dissipated, and it gnawed at you. But now wasn’t the time to confront him. You had a job to do.

“You hear that Graves? You and your screw ups are going to clean this up. Or I’ll have Madame President suspend you.” It wasn’t always bad having friends in high places. Albus was just a rare exception. It was never a good idea to be friends with Albus Dumbledore.

How can you be so calm after that? Being attacked by such a being of mass destruction? Gellert wondered dispassionately. You should be catatonic. Dead even. Scarred beyond recognition. It swallowed you whole. How have you remained so spry after an ordeal like that? No, maybe dispassionate is the wrong word. He was intrigued. 

What sort of power must you possess? And how can he obtain it for himself? You have just placed yourself in a very dangerous position indeed. You’ve become something he will covet. Relentlessly. Afterall he’d already begun seeing you in his visions. He just hadn’t accepted them until now. Witnessing your potential.

Snapping out of his thoughts he blinked back into character. Who am I? Ah yes Mr Graves. 

“Of course,” Graves replied, his tone calm and measured. “Hear that, men? New orders. Clean up.”

 “Potter. Wait a moment will you?” He asked you while manipulating Graves’ facial muscles to form that adorably vulnerable expression Gellert has seen him sport in the moments he’d broken his spirit, and turned them on you.

You acquiesced to the request waving your comrades off allowing them to begin the search for the Cursed child before returning to stand before Percival. His face is reminiscent of the day you rejected him. But it felt off. Wrong somehow. His eyes weren’t like a kicked puppy as they had been, looking more like a hungry lion.

“What is it? What did you want?” You spoke with impatience. There was a child that needed help. Every second spent here with Percival was another second wasted.

“Allow me to take you to dinner. As an apology. For stepping on your toes here and endangering you and your team.”

You were taken aback. Where was this coming from? Apology my arse… but why is this so familiar? The function in Paris. At least it provides a decent cover for interrogation. If it’ll help a good cause, is it really selfish?

“And the rest of the city. But I’ll take it. You're a very strange man, Percival Graves. It’s a date.” 

Gellert felt something drop to his feet. In the figurative sense. His chest tightened. There was no way he had been made so easily. Before he could question you on it you spun and disapparated with a resounding CRACK!

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