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(imnotyour-boy) Do you have any favorite fantasies about me, sir? (For Drunk Percy)
I have many fantasties about you Credence. Most involve you being naked. Some don’t. I fantasise about draping you in diamonds and jewels and furs. I imagine handcuffing you to my bed and fucking you hard for hours, days even.
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The darkness that binds us
The streets were filled with people, running for shelter as the light rain started falling. Gellert huffed a laugh, looking at them, crawling like rats, scared of a little rain but it was a good day to get lost in the crowd as he had just escaped that pain in the neck cell he’d been thrown into. At least he had the privacy he needed to escape. Of course he could not go about the streets wearing his own form and morphed his visage into some Jon Doe, not that he cared much as all he wanted was to get off their radar but unfortunately had to walk it off as he sensed the wards and spells that made disapparition impossible without the risks that he could not take in his present circumstances. As he went about the streets and made it to the subway, he managed to reach the clearing of a more quiet zone but he could not help but feel the strange feeling that followed him ever since he entered the subway and somehow lingered on like an unseen shadow as he made it to the exit. He gazed around but there was nothing in particular to notice and he walked on with skepticism in his bones, heightening his senses to any subtle change in the thick air around him. If he didn’t know any better he’d say that this is magic but a rather strange kind indeed.
@imnotyour-boy
@imnotyour-boy gets a twins starter
Opposites attract they all claimed. Credence and Diligence were no different either, though they looked identical, they were so different. Twins born and taken.. and supposedly had the magic beaten out of them. But of course only one tried to repress his magic and force it out of him.
He held himself as the voice spoke to him. A friend whenever his twin or Modesty wasn’t there to keep him company. It moved in the darkness and was unseen and unheard of by all but him. He couldn’t tell Dilligence out of fear he was just going mad. His eyes open to look at his twin on the bed. So beautiful unlike him.. identical but he was convinced his twin was the most beautiful of the two. He just wished he wouldn’t go to Mr. Graves and act like him.. it made him feel less special..
Graves was sitting on his couch, already drunk and pouring himself another scotch. The months since he had been rescued from Grindelwalds prison had felt like eternity. He was recovering physically, however emotionally and psychologically he felt worse more then ever before. President Picqueys words were constantly bouncing around his mind. “We had no choice Graves. The boy is dead.” Those words had shattered him. It was far worse then anything Grindelwald had done to him. Credence had been on his mind constantly while he had been imprisoned. It was one of the things he had clung to, determined to survive to get back to him. He had seen the memory from Picquery herself. Credence being torn apart by those Aurors, his Aurors as they followed Picqueys orders. Graves knew he would never be the same again. The knock at the door had been so soft, Graves was sure he was hearing things. Who would come calling on him at this hour? Who ever came calling to see him? He took a sip of his scotch and frowned when the knock came again, louder and more insistent. Curiosity got the better of him so he stood shakily and made his way to the door. He held his wand, almost ready to an attack as he opened the door and gasped at the sight before him. There stood Credence Barebone. Looking even smaller then usual. He was far too pale, his hair was longer was scraggly. His clothes were filthy and he had several cuts and scrapes where his skin was exposed to the elements. “Credence......” he breathed as their eyes met. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Graves let himself into his home, carrying his briefcase and a bag of pastry's from a bakery Credence loved. A small surprise for the boy who had been living with him for several months ago. Hiding would be perhaps a more appropriate term. No one knew Credence had turned up on his doorstep that night. He knew Picquery would order the boys execution and while Graves knew he might be able to pull enough strings to keep Credence alive, the boy would go through hell in the meantime. “Credence?” Graves called into the quite home, wondering where the boy was. @imnotyour-boy
