#Gramander rp

[classification-newt-scamander]

Playing With Fire

Closed RP with @the-elegant-percival

‘Local school boy expelled from Hogwarts! Newton Artemis Fido Scamander-’

The local newspaper had haunted Newt since his expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To a small town any snippet of gossip was blown wildly out of proportion and made front page news whether evidence could be provided or not.

The rumour mill had started when he arrived home for the Easter holidays and had not returned, instead taking his final exams under the direct supervision of a strict invigilator with a loose tongue after a pint of bitter at the local pub. The atmosphere at home went from tense to rigid over night when the first headlines hit, now all any of the local papers could talk about was his ejection from Hogwarts. The community dragged their names through the mud, their lives were being pick apart for entertainment and Newt had been branded an utter disappointment.

Now all anyone did was compare him to Theseus. The golden child. The rising star. Tears pricked his eyes as the resentment towards his brother grew inside him. It was not Theseus’s fault, he was doing his best to fix the cracks Newt had created in this family but to constantly be in his shadow was taking its toll. Newt loved his Brother. He had always been the first person to accept his quirkiness. Until recently. He had started to distancing himself further from Newt. He could not afford to be associated with the black sheep of the family now his career was starting to take off at the Ministry of Magic.

Theseus had suggested to their father that hosting America’s own up and coming talent might be a way of polishing their tarnished name and give the newspapers something else to talk about. The talent in question being one of Theseus’s oldest friends. Percival Graves. The Graves were one of the original twelve families and founders of MACUSA in America. Newt had to try terribly hard not to scoff at the dinner table when Theseus went on and on describing how it would be an ‘honour’ to host and aid Americas brightest prospect.

The real reason Theseus wanted Percival around was to bolster his own reputation, bury ‘this nasty busy over Newt’s schooling’and to have an excuse not to mind his younger brother while he enjoyed his last few weeks of freedom. Newt had already been accepted as a research assistant into the study of Ukrainian Ironbellys, he would be working closely with the dragons and documenting their behaviour. Far away from England.

In the distance Newt could see the dying embers of a Periculum spell his brother had likely sent up to call him back for dinner. Percival Graves would be arriving shortly and the house had been in a complete frenzy all day, cleaning spells working double time and a feast had been prepared. Newt had slipped out the back door and down the path leading into the woods at the first given opportunity, no one wanted him under foot. He was better off out the way, out of sight and out of mind. Unfortunately, Newt knew this woodland area by heart, there was no chance he could get lost and so he had no excuse not to be late.

With heavy footsteps he begrudging trekked back into the house. Newt had already planned the evening in his head. He would greet Percival, eat the dinner prepared for him and sneak up to his room just after dark when he had lingered long enough to go unnoticed. Hopefully avoiding most of the unpleasantness.

The clock struck seven and everyone was waiting downstairs in the lounge feeling every second ticking by, Percival would be arriving any moment and the evening would begin. To Newt this was the calm before the storm.

[vehuhia-rp]

It's harder to heal than it is to kill.

A good part of the most important things that had happened to Newt throughout his life had happened without him really intending to. He’d been expelled from Hogwarts when Leta had unleashed his first hippogriff on a group of students because they’d mocked her; he’d found Frank the Thunderstorm because Albus Dumbledore had told him where to find him; he’d found Credence, the Obscurial, when he’d just meant to release said Thunderstorm.

All in all, he most often happened to endure his life rather than give it any willing direction.

Which meant it shouldn’t be a surprise, really, when, during one of his searches through the huge forests of Taiwan looking for a Dai - an owl with three eyes and three ears, that Taiwanese muggles liked to kill and eat to keep them from drowning, according to their legends -, he stumbled on a frozen body with a very familiar face.

He’d heard about the Dai from one of his acquaintances who’d visited Taiwan not so long ago, and he’d told him that the species was endangered, because of Chinese legends that had been incorporated to the Taiwanese folklore when the Chinese colonised it in the 17th Century. People still hunted it down for its flesh, believing that it kept the sailors safe and prevented them to drown; and for an island that mostly survived through fishing, the safety of its sailors was absolutely primordial.

So Newt hadn’t thought. As soon as he’d received the letter, he’d packed his stuff, grabbed his suitcase, and left for Taiwan, and this despite the fact that he’d been forbidden to travel.

He’d already been there for a week, spending his days and nights in the wild forests of Taiwan to find the owl, when he emerged into a clearing and almost immediately stumbled onto something cold and hard.

Looking down, he was only mildly surprised to realise that what he’d stumbled upon wasn’t a tree branch like he’d expected, but the rigid, cold body of one Percival Graves.

The face was exactly like he’d remembered it when Grindelwald had impersonated him, except the hair was longer, and he wore an unkept beard - And judging by how skinny he was, and the condition of his clothes (torn and dirty), he’d been kept prisoner for a while before Grindelwald sent him there.

He knelt down, and tried everything he could to awake the man - To no avail. He was unconscious, and not even close to waking up. But at least he was alive - he was breathing and despite how cold his body was, his heart beat a steady rhythm under Newt’s fingers.

So Newt did the only thing that came to his mind. He levitated him to the shack inside his suitcase, laid him on the bed there, and he spent the next couple of weeks trying to wake him up. He managed to feed him soup, to keep him hydrated, but even his trips to the closest villages, even his many, many talks with the healers there and the many, many books he’d read didn’t help him to find what was wrong with the Director.

He was starting to get a fair bit desperate, to be honest, but he didn’t dare moving him back to the United States, and he knew that putting him in a hospital wouldn’t help him.

Instead, that night, he chose to sit down on a chair next to him, reading aloud a book he’d found about the magical creatures here in Asia, in the hope that at least his voice could reach to him.

@aurcrgraves

[newton-af-scamander]

@gravemagicks

When newt is nervous he tends to fidget. Right now he fidgets, thumbing at the button on the cuff of his sleeve or fiddling with the flap of his coat pocket. He longs for his case, the familiarity of its weight missing from his hand. So he fidgets to distract himself from that empty feeling, for his case being out of his line of sight makes him nervous.

Behind him, a large sphere of water is spelled to float after him, inside four agitated selkies hiss and chatter at him. They swim with tense, darting movements around the confined space. They have calmed considerably after Newt fed them some fish chunks soaked in a calming draught. 

In front of him is the desk of Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and currently Newt’s boss. The Department for the Care and Conservation of Magical Creatures is still very new and thought Newt technically is the head of the department, the magizoologist has never run a department in his entire life so for now he would be under guidance of the Director until he was fit to take over himself. Said Director currently didn't look very happy with him, gaze boring into Newt as the silence stretches between them.

The reason for this impromptu meeting was probably being  two feet of water Newt is currently standing in, same at the rest of the department. Luckily they were able to stop it from spreading even further.

Newt clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I-It really was an accident,” he starts, not quite meeting graves eye and staring instead at his shoulder, “I hadn’t anticipated that Katherine would charge the selkie tank...” the argument sounds weak even to his own ears.

[blauerkeks]

Someone RP Gramander with me please. I'd prefer Graves. Just hit me up here via inbox or message or send me a mail - feuermiss1405@gmail.com

[nootnootandthesaurusscamander]

Behind enemy lines || closed with director-percival-graves

@director-percival-graves

July, 1916

Finally, after two years of trying he had finally been drafted into the British army. His original goal had been to join his brother on the Western front, but somehow his applications had never come through. He sincerely believed his brother to be responsible for that, even if he couldn’t prove it.

Apprehension, excitement and something that threatened to overwhelm every sense that he had rushed through him. It made his skin tingle and his mind swarm as he stepped off the train and followed the masses to the drafting station.

Everything was so new, so overwhelming. He certainly wasn’t in the British training camp anymore and it took him some time to get used to it all. He stood in line behind a rather burly fellow, he certainly stood out amongst the rest. He wasn’t necesarilly smaller, but leaner. His build was more of a swimmer’s build rather than the body builders that his fellow draftsmen seemed to be.

He quickly ran a hand through his ginger hair and fixed his cap back on his head just as the burly man in front of him stepped aside. Newt stepped forward, slowly looking up at the man behind the desk but not quite making eye contact.

A handsome man, Newt deduced, dark short hair, dark eyes and a general air of power seemed to surround the man. A wizard then, much like Newt himself.

“Number 150959..” He said quietly.

[percivalggraves]

Ol, soI have the weirdest crossover in mind, ever....

What I’d love is Good Omens/Fantastic Beasts AU where:

Aziraphale turns down Crowley’s affections, because he’s afraid of Falling and that demons don’t feel love only lust. Crowley happnes to run into Newt. Feelings bloom and soon enough they click and start a relationship. Somewhere down the line, Crowley and Newt meet Percival and invite him to join their relationship. There’s no jealousy. They all love each other. Newt and Crowley take care of him and he’s the best daddy to his two mischievous subs.

Life goes on. Azi watches it unfold and has some regrets but won’t act on it.

Eventually, Newt and Percy die. Percy first, some years later Newt follows. Crowley is grieving and Azi helps him through it.

[the-boy-king-aesthetics]

@frostisass

[alex-bennette]

OOC:

Hey guys~ Looking for a Crewt or Gramander rp if anyone is interested. If you are, just leave an ask or IM (DM??) me! I'll still continue with all other rps, don't worry! Thanks for reading!

[gravemagicks]

[classification-newt-scamander]

Ashwinders to Ashes

Closed RP with @director-percival-graves

The launch of his book was imminent: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them would hopefully bring a new wealth of knowledge to wizarding community.

New York hadn’t much changed since the last time he’d visited. Newt was excited by the prospect of seeing his lifelong friends and as promised was hand delivering Tina Goldstein’s copy.

His trip was already going exponentially better. None of his creatures had successfully broken free and any attempt was met with a cleverly designed ward that simply spelled them back to their nest. Newt felt particularly proud of his own ingeniousness. Until the Niffler had discovered that inanimate objects wouldn’t be spelled away and had hidden in a bucket before making his valiant escape.

Still.

The calm had lasted two weeks. Enough time for Newt to have established his presence with frequent visits to MACUSA and more importantly directly with President Picquery who had an invested interest in keeping him occupied by giving insight into cases involving creatures as a private consultant. No one was surprise when the notorious thief had broken loose inside MACUSA and Newt had quickly come to the Niffler’s defence, explaining that the creature was attracted to all things shiny regardless of how important the object was to the owner or to any ongoing investigations.

At least Newt had the audacity to sheepishly hand the evidence back to Director Graves, with the promise to reinforce his wards later, hopefully resolving any further problems. Really, however, Newt should have paid more attention to his first meeting with the real Percival Graves.

To think the encounter might be brushed off as a harmless misunderstanding was apparently too much to ask. The tone had been set. Newt now consistently fell prey to the Directors punishing gaze in the rare event when their paths crossed but with his MACUSA’s increasing dependence to use his expertise, the encounters were only increasing in frequency and would only become worse in the future.

Now. Newt was the first to admit, with the beauty of hinder sight in his favour, that experimenting within MACUSA had not been his greatest idea. In his defence the harmless bluebell flames had been estimated to burn softly for an additional six hours before Newt needed to observe the dying embers with signs of an Ashwinder Snake. With that time frame in mind, Newt would have been safely in his case with a container ready to collect the snakes eggs and freeze them both before they could cause any damage.

Since taking on the position as a freelance consultant, his book launch and the general care and upkeep of his creatures to consider. Newt was exhausted, often falling asleep at his desk as he tried to further his own personal research. That morning it had slipped his mind to spell the flames correctly so they burned longer. By the time he’d realised that an Ashwinder Snake was loose, he’d managed to evacuate his office and most of the surrounding department before it went up in flames.

Serval hours later, he now stood in front of Picquery and Director Graves battered, bruised and smelling of smoke waiting punishment. Newt was expecting the full extent of the law to come crashing down on him, thrown back into MACUSA’s jail once again and contained waiting for the penalties to come.

By sheer luck alone a very bewildered Newt freely walked away from the meeting with a full time position as MACUSA’s department lead in magizoology, apparently it was ‘to prevent further experimentation without the proper sanctions.’ The law was a grey enough area for freelance consultants that on a technicality Newt couldn’t be prosecuted and the worst they could do was reprimand him for his actions.

Naturally Picquery promptly issued a contract to stop any further incidences from happening, Newt would need to follow the rules from now on and was forced to work on a particular creature case with the Director of Magical Security himself.

Still. Newt felt it could have been a lot worse.

How difficult could it be to work with a man that clearly hated him?

[vehuhia-rp]

Sharing oxygen || Closed rp with classification-newt-scamander

Percival Graves had spent ten months between Grindelwald’s hands. Ten months during which the dark wizard had taken everything from him - His name, his pride, his face, his wand, his reputation. But, worse of all, his hearing. Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was deaf.

Fortunately, no one had seemed to notice it - No one but Picquery, when she had visited him at the hospital, five days later, and she had noticed that he couldn’t answer to her when she wasn’t facing him. She had asked him to tell her the truth, and so he had. He had explained her that Grindelwald’s hexes and curses had left more than one scar, and that he had been deaf for three weeks now. He only managed to talk with people by reading on their lips.

And so, a month later, he had been sent back home - his old house, where he had been kept prisoner. Where his blood was still on the floor of his bedroom, where every wall reminded him of blond hair and mismatched eyes. It had taken him another couple of months to be able to walk around with a cane without having to stop every five minutes, and another month to go back to work.

He had found a spell to inform him when people talked to him, but it didn’t work that well, and he lived in the constant fear of people noticing that something was wrong with him. Fortunately, it had always been a habit for him to look at people when they talked to him, and to not accept when people didn’t look at him in return, so it made reading on their lips easier, but there were still moments when he didn’t quite catch what they were saying.

He hadn’t gone to meetings neither, as keeping track of a conversation between several people who talked at the same time was near impossible for him. And, most importantly, he hadn’t come back in the field. He was useless, now, unable to defend himself, to hear the curses flying to him, and despite Picquery’s encouragement, he had refused to leave his office.

It was in that state of mind that, five months later, he waited for Mr. Scamander to meet him in his office. He had sent him a letter a month ago to ask him to come back to America, as he wanted to hear - haha, what a joke - his side of the story, and he knew that the man had finally arrived in boat the day prior.

@classification-newt-scamander

[newton-af-scamander]

Gramander prompts

I'm feel like writing small gramander drabbles so send in prompts if you'd like one. Can't promise I'll write any request since it may be something I don't agree with (like domestic abuse, sorry but I can't write that) but I'd love to hear all sort of ideas.

[animusbaby]

Either Omegle has shut down completely, or it’s fucked again.

Hit me up in my ims for a discord or skype rp!

[aurorofconfidence]

Q & A

Rules: Answer all the questions, tag however many people you want. Maybe add a question if you want! It’s that simple friends!

How did you come up with your blog name?

That is a very good question. I’m not entirely sure I remember how it came about... I wanted something about Percy being an auror, and he’s a confident little git, so I think I liked the play on words because he gives off an aura of confidence.

Why did you make your blog?

Because canon failed Percival Graves, and I had a very strong yearning to fix that. And thus, a Graves was born.

How long have you had it?

I first made this blog pretty well as soon as the first movie came out, but I was silent on it for about a while when I got muse for another cocky little shit, re-established in 2017.

How many followers do you have?

305. I don’t know how or why.

What do you share/post about most?

Well, aside from threads, I do/reblog a lot of gramander crack posts.

What do you share/post about the least?

Literally anything that is not rp related.

What do you think your followers think of you?

I hope my followers are here because they like my writing and my portrayal, but I’m quite sure they also think I can be really super slow, and maybe a little standoffish? I have a really stupid habit of seeing a message/inbox and telling myself I’ll reply to it in a little bit when I’ve got a clearer head, and then I completely forget to respond at all, and I feel like people might think that’s me being rude, but it’s truly just me with short term memory problems.

Add a gif or photo and explain why you chose it.

This is one of the very first shots we get of Percival Graves, and it’s truly the one that made me fall in love with the character. This whole first scene, everything about him just oozes presence and precision and power and potential, and I’m using a lot of ‘p’ words, but well... Percival.

Last thing I just wanna add:

I wish I had so much more time for rping, because I have more than enough muse for it, but my schedule is crazy most of the time between work and other crap, so to those who put up with ridiculous wait times for threads, I love you. Thank you so much for putting up with my shit.

Tagged By:  @scharfezunge

Tagging: @greatergoodfolly, @misxnderstccd, @antoinettedurant, @styleoverlaw, and anyone else who wants to! Tag me!

[misxnderstccd]

Questions for the Mun

Name: K

How long you’ve been RPing: 16 (almost 17) years

First platform you RPd on: MSN forums back in the day

First RP/Fandom/Character: First fandom was InuYasha

Fandoms you’ve RPd in: InuYasha, Naruto, Bleach (just lots of anime in general), Marvel, The Walking Dead, Rise of the Guardians, Borderlands, Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts, Detroit: Become Human, Hannibal, Sherlock, Lord of the Rings

Favourite fiction genres: I don’t really have a favorite.

Favourite tropes: Older/Younger dynamic, typical vampire trope of kidnapping or turning the victim :3

AU/Plot/Genre you’re craving rn: Dark Newt things, angsty Gramander, Alpha/Beta/Omega AU (PLZ), Vampire things!!

Biggest turnoffs in RP: Hate, forced romance/shipping, over the top god-modding. 

Tagged by: @gallertgrindelwald

Tagging: @nicholas-wolfwood, @nuntiusdiaboli, @scharfezunge, anyone else who wasn’t tagged.

[the-boy-king-aesthetics]

@frostisass