Later, Credence wouldn't be able to describe what, exactly, he had expected to find in Grindelwald's secret bedroom, but it certainly hadn't been this.
The room would have looked perfectly ordinary, albeit somewhat barren, if not for the man chained to the headboard of the bed. He was sat upright with his arms spread, each wrist cuffed so tightly to the wooden slats that he had no hope of shifting into a more comfortable position. The blue tinge to his fingertips indicated that he'd been held like that for a while.
"Sir?" Credence asked uncertainly as he crept farther into the room behind Grindelwald.
"Credence, meet Percival Graves. The real one, this time."
The smile on Grindelwald's lips made something sharp tug in Credence's gut (flee, flee, get away!), but Credence found his feet rooted into the floor, unmoving while Grindelwald grabbed the hair of the man on the bed and lifted his head.
It was Graves, there was no doubt about that. Credence would recognize those heavy eyebrows anywhere. However, he looked a far cry from the Graves Credence had known, back when Grindelwald was wearing his face. His dark eyes were glassy and unfocused, and his jaw hung slack with a small bit of drool glossing his lower lip. Credence could only assume the man had been trapped here for a while because he had quite obviously lost muscle definition; where his body had once felt firm and coiled against Credence, now Credence could only see the thin, wilting frame of a beaten man.
"He's an omega," Grindelwald said as he stroked Graves's hair in a mockery of tenderness. "Such a rare creature. Were there any sense in this world he would have been kept at home and bred, not allowed to run all over the city putting himself in danger."
Credence couldn't help the spike of curiosity that drew him closer. Of course he'd heard of omegas, but he'd never thought he would actually meet one. Looking more closely at Graves Credence thought he could see some of the fabled allure of omegas to him. Yes, there was something oddly beautiful about the man, even when he was chained up and drooling.
"Sir? What's wrong with him?"
Clapping Credence on the back, Grindelwald gave him the cheerful smile that always set Credence's teeth on edge.
"Nothing's wrong, my boy. I've simply given him a potion to keep him calm and content. Frankly, a stressed omega's milk tastes foul."
"M-milk?" Credence stammered despite realization dawning on him.
It didn't take a genius to look at Graves's exposed chest and the device sitting on a table next to the bed and put two and two together. Credence's stomach roiled, and abruptly he had to look away, staring down at his feet rather than Graves's chapped, reddened nipples.
"Yes, my boy. Milk. An omega's milk is has many wonderful properties, not the least of which is its strengthening effect on magic.
"I've been using Graves's milk for myself since I first discovered his true nature. Although pumping and storing it for later works in a pinch, I find that it's more potent when taken straight from the source."
As if to demonstrate, Grindelwald knelt on the bed and tenderly massaged Graves's chest for a moment before leaning down to latch his lips around a swollen nipple. Even drugged as he was, Graves flinched and whimpered.
Credence could only watch, something like disgust and fascination keeping him in place, eyes riveted on the movements of Grindelwald's lips against Graves's skin. It was as if Credence was hypnotized through the whole process, only to be released when Grindelwald pulled back with a wet smack of his lips, his tongue flicking out to lap up one last dribble of milk from Graves's nipple.
"Come now. There's plenty more for you," Grindelwald said, gesturing Credence closer.
[Fill Pt. 3] Nectar
The room would have looked perfectly ordinary, albeit somewhat barren, if not for the man chained to the headboard of the bed. He was sat upright with his arms spread, each wrist cuffed so tightly to the wooden slats that he had no hope of shifting into a more comfortable position. The blue tinge to his fingertips indicated that he'd been held like that for a while.
"Sir?" Credence asked uncertainly as he crept farther into the room behind Grindelwald.
"Credence, meet Percival Graves. The real one, this time."
The smile on Grindelwald's lips made something sharp tug in Credence's gut (flee, flee, get away!), but Credence found his feet rooted into the floor, unmoving while Grindelwald grabbed the hair of the man on the bed and lifted his head.
It was Graves, there was no doubt about that. Credence would recognize those heavy eyebrows anywhere. However, he looked a far cry from the Graves Credence had known, back when Grindelwald was wearing his face. His dark eyes were glassy and unfocused, and his jaw hung slack with a small bit of drool glossing his lower lip. Credence could only assume the man had been trapped here for a while because he had quite obviously lost muscle definition; where his body had once felt firm and coiled against Credence, now Credence could only see the thin, wilting frame of a beaten man.
"He's an omega," Grindelwald said as he stroked Graves's hair in a mockery of tenderness. "Such a rare creature. Were there any sense in this world he would have been kept at home and bred, not allowed to run all over the city putting himself in danger."
Credence couldn't help the spike of curiosity that drew him closer. Of course he'd heard of omegas, but he'd never thought he would actually meet one. Looking more closely at Graves Credence thought he could see some of the fabled allure of omegas to him. Yes, there was something oddly beautiful about the man, even when he was chained up and drooling.
"Sir? What's wrong with him?"
Clapping Credence on the back, Grindelwald gave him the cheerful smile that always set Credence's teeth on edge.
"Nothing's wrong, my boy. I've simply given him a potion to keep him calm and content. Frankly, a stressed omega's milk tastes foul."
"M-milk?" Credence stammered despite realization dawning on him.
It didn't take a genius to look at Graves's exposed chest and the device sitting on a table next to the bed and put two and two together. Credence's stomach roiled, and abruptly he had to look away, staring down at his feet rather than Graves's chapped, reddened nipples.
"Yes, my boy. Milk. An omega's milk is has many wonderful properties, not the least of which is its strengthening effect on magic.
"I've been using Graves's milk for myself since I first discovered his true nature. Although pumping and storing it for later works in a pinch, I find that it's more potent when taken straight from the source."
As if to demonstrate, Grindelwald knelt on the bed and tenderly massaged Graves's chest for a moment before leaning down to latch his lips around a swollen nipple. Even drugged as he was, Graves flinched and whimpered.
Credence could only watch, something like disgust and fascination keeping him in place, eyes riveted on the movements of Grindelwald's lips against Graves's skin. It was as if Credence was hypnotized through the whole process, only to be released when Grindelwald pulled back with a wet smack of his lips, his tongue flicking out to lap up one last dribble of milk from Graves's nipple.
"Come now. There's plenty more for you," Grindelwald said, gesturing Credence closer.
"N-no. I couldn't."
"Oh, but you must. I insist."