Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Fill: The Whipping Boy (6/?)

[(Anonymous)]

(Hoping I've managed to put this in the right place. Some extremely dubious consent in this chapter but if you've got so far you can probably tell it's going to be dark)

Newt curled up on himself, shuddering as he felt the healing magic take away the worst of the pain, trying to concentrate. He didn’t dare try speaking again, not whilst the Director was in the room. He couldn’t see the man Theseus had spoken highly of in this monster. Newt might have been unsure about human relationships, but you didn’t need to be skilled to see that Credence was bargaining himself for Newt’s wellbeing, and that sickened him. As the other two walked away, he was unable to hide his sobs until Director Graves took his voice with a wave of his wand. He wondered how long this would continue, being given his voice only so that he was allowed to scream.

He ached, and he tried to stand but the pain was too much. The aftermath of the crucio dug into his bones, shooting spasms of agony through him and he crawled to where he had hidden the notebook. He took the pen with trembling hands, trying to decide what to say. He wrote for a living, but most messages weren’t as hard as this to phrase. He needed to write quickly, but he had to get the message right.

The boy had used the cruciatus curse on him. An unforgivable curse. Director Graves was intentionally isolating the boy from wizarding society, ensuring he couldn’t be accepted. He was taking advantage of a vulnerable young man, and teaching him magic. Credence was new to this world, so even what Newt had witnessed proved he was naturally talented and the director was corrupting the ability. Newt racked his brain to work out what it was that Director Graves was trying to do with him.

Somewhere there would be a clue. Newt tried to focus past the agony in his body. To remember exactly the order of events. Credence had been using the director’s wand. That stuck out. That the director would hand his wand over to Credence, would arm him while using another wand. That wasn’t right. He had never met any wizard willing to hand over their wand to another aside from in an emergency, and Americans were more strict than the British about such things.

He turned to the notebook, writing a few words. The things he knew to be true.
“Credence. He’s lying to you. You need to get out.” He hid the notebook once more, then the pen, and finally tucked the note into the bedsheets, careful not to brush blood against them. Exhausted, he lay on the floor. He needed to build up his strength, but he didn’t know how.

He was drifting asleep when he heard noises from the next room, the sound of moaning and rocking. It reminded him for a moment of being back in the Hogwards dormitory, horribly aware of the boy in the bed above masturbating and his mattress. Then he heard a second voice cry out. He tried to distance himself. It didn’t sound like pain. He closed his eyes, sickness building inside of him. It didn’t sound like pain.

Silence fell, and Newt woke as the door to his bedroom opened, and Credence gingerly walked in, carrying a tray. He crouched down beside Newt, stroking his hair from his eyes.
“I’m sorry you were hurt.” He murmured, and then began to dab at Newt’s visible injuries with a damp cloth. Newt realised that this kind of care wasn’t new to Credence. “May I remove your shirt?”

Newt nodded. Credence cleaned each cut across his back with tenderness.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring you any food right now, but I can tomorrow as long as I apply myself to my studies.”
Newt wanted to tell Credence he didn’t have to, but there were no words for him to use. The door creaked, and both of them looked towards the source of the sound. They were confronted by Graves leaning against the doorframe wearing a black dressing gown with white detail. The fabric looked like silk.
“Credence?”
“Yes Mister Graves?”
“You should sleep. And I brought some sweets.” He held out a few candies, and Newt watched as Credence took them and mumbled thanks. Graves walked away after another kiss, and Credence brought the food back to Newt.
“Here.” He held one out, and Newt opened his mouth, eating the sweet. It tasted good and Credence’s touches to his hair were gentle.

“I’d best…” Credence glanced over towards the bed. Newt nodded, and saw Credence climb in. He relaxed a little as Credence found the note, gazing at it for a moment before he crumpled it in his hand.
“I know Newt.” Credence whispered, and his voice sounded broken. “I know.”

Re: Fill: The Whipping Boy (6/?)

[(Anonymous)]

This story hurts in all the right places. Newt already knows something is very wrong with Graves, Credence knows it too, but he cannot disobey or Newt will get hurt, right? And Grindel!Graves laid his hands on Credence. Keep him away from Newt, please I almost repeated after Newt "it doesn't sound like pain". Poor boys. I can't imagine what else Gellert has in stock for them; I like how dark this story is becoming because I like dark stories, but at the same time I want them all to be happy ;u;

Re: Fill: The Whipping Boy (6/?)

[(Anonymous)]

It is sickening how GrindelGraves is not just forcing Credence to do his bidding, but also touching him. Argh!