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only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are · 3 months

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Swipe Right - Part 2

Part 1

CWs: pet whump, medical whump, mentions of kidnapping, drugging, needles, blood draw, stress positions, force feeding solid food

Charlie opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to a bright light. His head was pounding.

He slowly opened his eyes, finding himself in an unfamiliar cold white room. He was laying on a medical exam bed.

What had happened? He remembered being on a date.. a woman. Her name was something unusual..

Lacey.

He shot upright. At least, he tried to, before he was jerked back.The movement shot waves of dizziness through him, and he groaned.

"Hello, Charlie." A familiar voice cooed.

He shuddered as he opened his eyes to find Lacey standing over him. She was now wearing a pair of white scrubs, with her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

"What.. where am I?" he stammered, realising his arms were bound at his sides to the operating table he lay on, as were his legs.

"Welcome to HPP - Human Pet Providers. Not the most creative name, but we do as advertised." Lacey gestured around the room. "You have been selected as a good candidate for a companion pet."

Charlie had heard of pets, of course, in this sense, but he thought they were a rare priviledge for the uber-rich, and he thought people were only sold for this sort of thing in far-away cities. He thought he had been safe, but he was instead now trapped in a terrifying, nightmarish-reality. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no sound came out.

Lacey reached out a hand and placed it on Charlie's jaw, shutting his mouth. She placed a finger over his lips, and leaned in close. "Sh, darling. You don't have to speak anymore. You don't have to think anymore. I will be taking care of everything now on." She murmured.

She drew back, and waved over to someone out of sight. Four figures in white strode over, their expressions cold and uncaring.

"You may begin the examination."

"My name is Doctor Vaughn." A man with almond-brown skin and dark eyes announced, as he pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and adjusted his white coat.

The doctor cut apart Charlie's clothes, and pulled the shredded garments off him.

"Don't!" Charlie finally found his voice, protesting the removal of the only things he had on his back in this strange place.

"Oh! He talks." Doctor Vaughn laughed. "It's too bad I don't care."

The man's colleagues collected the remnants of Charlie's clothes, whilst Doctor Vaughn began organising instruments on a steel tray. When they were done, one of the assistants picked up a camera and began taking photos, the harsh light from the flash hurting Charlie's eyes. They positioned him, like a doll, turning him this way and that, tilting his chin and closing in on each and every detail of his skin. Lacey merely stood there, observing impassively. Occasionally, she would make a remark, telling him to relax, to 'not worry' because he didn't need worry in his life anymore. It was uneccessary.

They pulled down a device down from the cieling by its handles, then pressed a button, and the device began sliding back and forth across tracks on the cieling, then side to side.

After a few minutes, the device stopped in place, and beeped softly.

Then, Doctor Vaughn began to examine Charlie more closely. He palpated the muscles in his legs, and took his blood pressure with an inflatable cuff. Then, the Doctor began inspecting everry inch of his body, probing and prodding. He took measurements and notes which were spoken aloud and then written down by another of the people jn scrubs onto a tablet. Doctor Vaughn nodded at one of the measurements, then picked up a syringe. Charlie flinched against the restraints, not that that did anything.

"You will learn, soon enough, that there is no point resisting anymore." Lacey tutted, grasping Charlie's arm and forcing it to relax somewhat in the restraints.

Doctor Vaughn wiped the skin of Charlie's arm with an alcohol swab. He then attached a collection tube to the syringe and lined the needle up with a vein in Charlie's arm. In one swift motion, he inserted the needle into the vein and began to draw Charlie's blood into the tube. Charlie squirmed against the needle, ignoring the growing pinch in his arm. When the tube was full with his blood, Doctor Vaughn exchanged the full tube with an empty one. And when that was full, Charlie watched gratefully as the needle was finally removed from his arm. Doctor Vaughn wiped the blood from the wound and placed a bandage over it.

"He's ready for processing." Doctor Vaughn said, stripping off his gloves and disposing of them and the syringe.

"Excellent." Lacey clapped her hands together and moved to the door, gesturing in several guards wheeeling a hospital gurney. "Transfer him onto the gurney and take him to Room 10."

The guards were far from gentle as they undid Charlie's restraints and lifted him onto the gurney, which they proceeded to tie him down to once more.

"This isn't neccessary, let me go!" Charlie pleaded. "I promise I won't try to escape, I-"

One of the guards slapped him across the face, earning a shocked gasp.

"Hey!" Lacey yelled. "DO NOT damage the merchandise."

She grabbed the guard by his black vest, and easily pinned him against the wall, despite how much smaller she was. "You do that again, I promise you you'll be the next one in my training room. Do you understand me?" She growled, her green eyes glinting with fury.

"I- I understand."

"I understand, ma'am."

"Y- yes, yes, I understand ma'am please let me go-"

With a snarl she dropped the guard and stormed off down the hall, the guards rushing to follow her, two of them pushing Charlie's gurney along beside them.

Charlie felt his heart pound from witnessing what had just happened. It was clear the woman who went by Lacey was just as intimidating as she was beautiful. Charlie shuddered, wondering what she would do to him next. As they rolled him down the endless white hallways, he tried to take a mental note of the path they were taking, but he quickly lost track. All the brightly light paths were the same, with each hall shooting off into more. It was maze-like, and he felt his heart drop as he realised any hope of escape would be slim.

The gurney came to a stop as they arrived at a door marked Room 10. Lacey keyed a code into the door, and the door opened with ease. The guards wheeled his gurney into the room. The room was a wide room, with a padded chair in the centre of the room, which resembled an old dentist's chair Steel trolleys were lined up next to the chair, and white counters lined the walls, with a steel sink and drawers and cabinets.

Lacey helped the guards undo Charlie's restraints, then they grasped his arms and legs and lifted him onto the chair. Immediately, they strapped him down around his middle, wrists, ankles, chest and forehead. As they strapped him down by the wrists, they turned his forearms up to the cieling.

"Please." Charlie tried. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, I do. And I want to." Lacey grinned.

She picked up a box of nitrile gloves off the counter, and slipped a pair on.

"W've completed the physical exam, now it's time for the next part of your induction." Lacey pottered around the room, picking up and setting out tools as the guards took posts around the corners of the room.

"You will be given your number, and from here on you will only be referred to as your number until you are purchased and named by your buyer." Lacey combed her gloved fingers through Charlie's hair, softly, then she yanked hard, and pulled his chin towards her. "You know, we used to shave the heads of you pets. Or box boys, other companies call them." She mused. "Until I reminded the Director that there's so much more to do with you when you have beautiful long hair."

Fear and humiliation roiled in Charlie's stomach as Lacey manipulated the arms of the chair so that his arms were spread out, and then pushed a button on the chair which caused it to recline. She slipped on a pair of nitrile gloves and pulled a stool up beside Charlie.

"It's time to mark you as HPP property." She picked up a tattoo gun. The buzzing started before Charlie even registered what was happening.

Charlie's world exploded into pain. Sharp, scratching pain, as though a cat with a particular distaste towards him had been unleashed upon his arm and then decided to tread all over his fresh wounds. His head spun. By the time he cleared his head enough to look down at his arm and the source of the pain, on his pale arm was a barcode with small numbers inscribed below. '05794' it read.

"What the hell.." Charlie gasped weakly.

"You will be referred to by this number until you are purchased and brought to your new owner. I, as your Handler, will be able to access any of your information, including your medical files, through that barcode with a tablet." Lacey explained. "Useful little idea of mine, isn't it?"

Charlie winced as she wrapped up his fresh tattoo.

"Now, the tattoo is only a backup for this." Lacey picked up a metal band, and undid the restraint around his arm so that she could open the cuff and place it around his wrist. As the cuff clicked into place above the tattoo, a fresh pain exploded into his skin as two small needles shot out from the cuff and buried themselves into his skin.

"Ah!" Charlie gasped, trying to yank his arm away, but Lacey was far to quick for him and tied his arm back down to the chair. The cuff had a small screen across it, like a smartwatch.

"The cuff will monitor your vitals as well as being the main access point for your medical data and other information."

"Great. So you can make sure you don't kill me when you torture me." Charlie huffed. "Tell me Lacey, do you kidnap and torture all your dates?"

"Oh, Charlie. You were fished - HPP quite often has their agents use dating apps to select good candidates for their program. You can learn a lot about someone based off their dating profile.." Lacey explained.

"You can't do this, I'm a human being! I'm not your toy!" Charlie protested.

"You will now be known by your number, 05794, until you are purchased and renamed by your owner." Lacey ignored his protests and grasped his chin, her blood-red fingernails just lightly digging into his skin. "You are not a person anymore. You gave over that right when you walked in this door and signed your life away, your home, your individualty, your name, your freedom... everything that made you human."

"But I didn't sign-"

Charlie was cut off by a sharp pain in the muscle of his neck, he gasped in pain and bucked against his restraints, spotting a syringe out of the corner of his eye, from which Lacey was injecting a clear serum into him.

His vision blurred, and his eyelids grew heavy. He could close them, just for a moment..

------

When he opened his eyes, he had been sure he'd just blinked, but he found himself now laying down a small mattress against the back wall of a small room.

Charlie clambered to his feet, finding his legs shaky, but he needed to examine his surroundings. He held out a hand to steady himself, and as he did so his hand brushed against something. It was a metal cuff, hammered into the wall. He shuddered, and subconsioucly his fingers found the cuff around his right wrist. A tattoed barcode, on his left wrist.

He remembered- what did he remember? He remembered the date, the cafe, being drugged, waking up in another room, being clinically examined and 'processed' and then.. nothing.

He was wearing a thin white v-neck shirt and white boxers as he paced around the small, white cell. His bed was nothing but a simple cot on the floor, with a thin, threadbare blanket. In one corner was a very basic bathroom. There was a metal toilet, resembling one of those horrible toilets seen in jails, and a sink. The shower only consisted of a showerhead protruding from the wall and a drain in the floor. A towel lay folded up on a small table by the shower, with three small bottles, which were labeled 'shampoo', 'conditioner' and 'body wash' respectively.

Across the room were various sets of 3 metal cuffs spread around the walls and the floor. The far wall of the room resembled a large mirror, with a door in the centre of it. The door had a small cutout in the bottom which was currently shut. Charlie assumed that the mirror was one of those two way mirrors. The whole room was painted white and illuminated with cool white lights. He shuddered, and took a step back towards the cot, fear and anxiety manifesting in his stomach as a swirl of nasea. The instant he moved, he was startled by the sound of a voice, coming from the corners of the small room.

"Attention, new pet. Welcome to Human Pet Providers. This room is where your primary room while you are in the facility. Twenty minutes before meal time, a bell will sound two times."

The automated-sounding female voice paused, and a bell chimed twice.

"At the sound of this bell, you will begin practising various positions with the use of the cuffs around the room. Your Trainer will arrive shortly to demonstrate the positions with you. After the twenty minutes, the bell will sound again, three thrice."

The bell chimed three times.

"Then, your food will be delivered. If you have not completed 20 minutes of positions, you will not recieve any food."

There was silence and Charlie waited for the voice to tell him anything else about his room, or the facility, or how they would know if he did his training. But there was only silence, before the loud chime sounded twice.

A moment later, the door to the rood swung open, allowing Lacey inside. "It's time for you first training."

She stepped into the room, striding towards Charlie. She guided him towards a set of chains on one wall.

"Squat with your back against the wall." Lacey ordered.

Not seeing much point in resisting, he did as she said. She cuffed his feet to the wall, then cuffed his arms together above his head. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was fine for the first minute.

"You can pick which positions you do before each meal. You can do four for five minutes each, or spend more or less time as you prefer.

Two minutes in, and his legs were burning as she spoke. His knees trembled, and he felt a sharp tug on his wrists and biceps as his arms were forced to take his weight and were almost yanked from their sockets.

"Grrnnngh- make it- stop-" Charlie ground out, his whole body shaking with pain.

She pressed a button on the metal cuff on his right wrist and his arms were released from their restraints. She pressed a button on each of his ankles, and then he was released at his legs also. His legs, now as wobbly as jello, gave out beneath him and he sank to the floor.

When he had caught his breath, she took him through several more positions - from ones that forced him to kneel, to more that kept his arms forced into uncomfortable positions. Each one made his limbs burn and his body be exposed to the trainer.

When finally the chime alerted them to meal time, she released the restraints for the last time and he sank to the floor, chest heaving and his cheeks burning. The slot in the door opened, and a tray was slid through, which Lacey picked up and brought over to Charlie. There was a sandwhich, a cup of water and a plastic bowl of broth. The cutlery was plastic too, and the bowl of broth was only luke-warm - likely to stop inmates using anything as a weapon. There was also a paper cup with half a dozen different coloured and sized pills.

"Good pet." Lacey cooed, running a hand through his hair. "Now, eat up. You need your strength."

As he sat, she picked up the bowl of broth and began to spoon-feed him. He tried to pull away, but she grabbed his head, locking it in place.

"Shhh, '794. The sooner you accept you no longer have any control, the easier this will all be."

She finished feeding him the broth, then fed him the sandwhich, closing his lips together when he refused to swallow, and finally he gave in. She helped him take a few sips of water, before she held out the pill cup. Charlie made a keening sound - it was embarrasing, and he blushed furiously, but he wasn't strong enough for this. The trainer forced his jaw open, uncaring, and poured the pills into his mouth along with some water, before forcing his lips shut, and massaging his throat. The motion triggered his gag-reflex, and he swallowed, the pills burning his throat. Charlie coughed and spluttered, as Lacey pulled herself off the floor, carrying the tray, as she headed to the door.

"Sleep well, pet. You'll need it. This is just the beginning of your training." Lacey drawled.

With that, she left the room, leaving Charlie behind on the floor of the cell, tears trickling down his cheeks as he curled his body up into a ball for comfort.

Tags: Please ask to be tagged!

#whump community #whumpblr #medical whump #noncon drugging #whump fics #stress positions whump #needles tw #blood draw #pet whump #swipe right series #force feeding tw

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saintshigaraki · 3 months

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i’ve said before and i stand by it that sukuna is not actually a strict yandere ! he enjoys a feral stray esque darling but the quickest way to really truly anger him is to go on a hunger strike. he will force the food down your throat by any means necessary and it will most definitely not be an enjoyable experience for you

#force feeding tw #vicspeaks #yandere tw

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 7: Restrained and Forced Feeding

Prime au. Tommy tries to starve himself in a fit of hopelessness after Dream kidnaps him, believing him to be a Prime in Earthly form- but Dream will not let the target of his worship fade so easily. Warnings for kidnapping, imprisonment, abuse, eating disorders, forced feeding, restraints, drugging, HEAVY religious themes, religious guilt, religious delusions, attempted suicide, self-harm, and self-loathing

ao3 link

—— Tommy was a little unnerved at how easily he’d grown used to hunger pangs.

Eating started feeling wrong sometime in Exile. He felt he didn’t deserve food, and even though he denied it at the time, the little bit of control throwing out most of the meagre rations he was given and vomiting up the rest was intoxicating, addicting even, when he had no other autonomy in his life. Even after, it was hard not to feel shame when he binged, so he went through periods of eating until he was sick, then eating a few snacks in a whole week and usually puking those out anyway because of the guilt.

It wasn’t like he hated his body or anything. Well, he did, but not because he thought he weighed too much or whatever. He didn’t even throw up on purpose; it wasn’t like he was trying to do anything stupid, he just felt so unwell and guilty whenever he could taste something nice on his lips, and it came out of him onto the floor. He wasn’t even sure what that was called. Being a pussy, he guessed.

Now, though, he wasn’t avoiding food just because it made him sick. No, it was the only way he had to die.

The IV drip in his arm provided something to stop dehydration- he’d tried there- along with the weird fuzzy, warm, sleepy feeling it forced him into, making him sleep most of the day and struggle to think very fast. His arms and legs were kept bound by velvet-lined shackles, made out of something lightweight and weirdly comfortable but with just enough slack to be able to eat or do something like knit but certainly not to try and escape, or even try and find something to shove through his throat until he stopped breathing.

Starvation was a painful, slow way to die, but it was a way to die. And dying would be better than participating in this blasphemous show any longer.

The robes Tommy was dressed in were the sacred purple, holy symbols embroidered on that no man should wear, like a twisted heretical display. Bells were hung up on every inch of free space in the room, ringing in prayer to Primes that would not be in such an unholy place. Some were even tied to Tommy’s chains and braided in his hair, making the slightest movement a twisted, arrogant prayer to himself. Every part of the room was carved of marble and oak, from the oversized bed to the ornate throne Tommy spent most of the day chained to, like a mocking parody of a King or a God.

It was disgusting. A nightmarish display of sin, a heretics toybox, and one Tommy had been made an unwilling participant in. The mockery of the Primes he was trapped in was worse than any other fate he could imagine- Limbo, Exile, eternal fucking torture. At least that didn’t spit in the face of the Primes and the Gods that Tommy had devoted his life to, took such solace in.

If he pretended the hunger pangs were his repentance for being forced to sin so, they were almost pleasant. Almost forgiveness.

He’d almost fallen asleep, exhausted from whatever sedative was being pumped through him and the physical stress of not eating for… Prime, he didn’t even know the time anymore. Sleep was one of Tommy's few escapes from his heretical prison, so he welcomed it whenever it overtook him. Unfortunately, the opening of the heavy iron door, threatening the worst hours of the day, woke him up with a start, dread pooling in his stomach.

Dream refused to look him in the eyes as he entered, head bowed in sinful reverence. Like this was a church, not a torture chamber. Under his breath, he whispered prayers for forgiveness, shifting between English and what Tommy recognised from talking to Ranboo as Ender erratically.

There were more scars on his skin, more bloodied bandages. Tommy frowned, seeing that. Dream insisted on “punishing” himself whenever he displeased Tommy, which was often considering the blasphemous hell he’d forced him into, his insistence that he was somehow a Prime and not a humble man. And, yeah, Dream might be a torturer and a heretic, but Tommy knew how it felt to tear lines in your skin. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even Dream.

“My Prime.” Tommy jumped out of his skin as Dream directly acknowledged him- or rather, what he thought him to be. “Why have you not been eating? Has what I’ve made been unfit?”

“I’m not hungry,” Tommy mumbled.

“I see. You’re not used to eating with your physical form.” Dream said that like it made sense and wasn’t the most absolutely insane bullshit imaginable. “I know you’ve forgotten you used to be a Prime, but this is proof you must be, see? There’s no need to be humble.”

Tommy just slumped further into his seat in defeat.

“I brought your favourites, if that helps,” Dream continued. Of course, he knew Tommy’s favourite food because he was a creepy ass stalker even before he got this weird idea into his head about Tommy being a lost Prime or whatever. “As many golden apples as you’d like.”

“I’m not hungry.” Tommy repeated, slightly louder this time.

“You’ll die if you don’t eat,” Dream said softly, like he was explaining the concept of being a living fucking being to a toddler. “And I don’t want you to be further tainted by that. I- I committed a grave sin, forcing a vessel for the Gods to experience the pain and mortality of death once. I can’t let that happen again.”

“I’m not eating anything you give me,” Tommy said, with an air of finality to it, and Dream sighed.

“Then you leave me no choice. I hate to have to do this, but…”

He trailed off, adjusting the slack of Tommy’s shackles to keep him completely immobilised. Tommy didn’t have the energy to struggle, and he mentally cursed whatever fucking potion he had hooked to him, keeping him tired and compliant. He wanted nothing more than to fight, to shout and scream and kick, but he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. Dream said it was better than “despoiling the holiness of a pure being” or whatever, but not only was Tommy not holy in the fucking slightest, he’d have felt much less despoiled or whatever if Dream just beat him up like he used to. At least then he could be a prick about it.

With shaking hands, Dream shoved a piece of crushed golden apple into Tommy’s mouth, giving him a guilty look. Tommy spat it directly onto his stupid face, glaring. “What the fuck, man?”

“I can’t just let you starve. Tommy…” He sighed. “Please, I don’t want to have to force you.”

Tommy stuck out his tongue in defiance. Fuck no, he wasn’t going to participate in this blasphemous display. He couldn’t stop Dream’s hours of prayer, his nonsensical preaching, the lavish “gifts” he’d give, but he could refuse to eat. Maybe the Primes would shine upon him again if they saw his attempts to remain devoted.

Immediately, he regretted it, as another tiny slice of golden apple was shoved into his throat, a hand covering both his mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow the food to be allowed breath again. His weak, human, ungodly body fought for it even though Tommy wished he could just let himself suffocate. It was painful, but not just that- it was utterly humiliating. He could feel his ears heating up as he ate what must have been a whole golden apple, slice by agonising slice, tears pricking at his eyes. Thank the fucking Primes- the actual Primes- that Dream refused to look at his face. He’d hate the idea of Dream seeing him crying over petty shit.

He took deep breaths when, after agonising minutes, he had finished. The food sat horribly in his stomach, and he felt queasy and lightheaded. Worse, he felt, for the first time in his life, faithless. There was nothing to be done, no resistance, no defiance. The Primes had abandoned him, the Gods must surely be mocking him. The rest of his life- the rest of eternity, even- would be spent forced into a heretical mask, and he would never rid himself of the sin sticking to him.

He couldn’t even die to repent.

Wilbur had read Tommy a story once from an old book about a strange God, where there was a tree and an apple and the first humans. The apple had contained knowledge- on what, Tommy wasn’t sure- and upon eating it, the humans had discovered sin and therefore became sinful. He’d found it fucking stupid at the time- how could an apple give knowledge, and how would it be the humans' fault? But it made sense now. He could feel the sin of his own forbidden fruit, forced down his throat, sitting painfully in his chest, a knowledge he wished to erase forever trapped in his head. Damnation would have been a mercy.

And when Tommy looked at Dream, anger replaced with broken exhaustion, the determination hunger pangs brought him replaced with mental agony, all he could see was a snake.

#My writing #ailesswhumptober #dream smp #c!primeboys #kidnapping tw #imprisonment tw #abuse tw #eating disorders tw #Force feeding tw #Restraints tw #drugging tw #religious guilt tw #attempted suicide tw #self harm tw

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southxparkxafterxdark · 2 years

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@all-my-friends-were-glorious - Firkle - Continue from here

- Kaiwha, Michael -

Michael wanted to speak with him. He wanted to so badly. But he had kept from eating himself; drinking, smoking, and if he was honest with himself, forgetting to take his medications.

Kaiwha eventually had to take over to prevent his vessel from dying on him.

He’d obviously taken over for a bit now; the black creeping out from around his eyes, sharp teeth and claws, and the black veins crawling and moving out from all of the pulse points on his body. His skin was also jus a hair above dead grey, at this point.

“Come, tasi fa'atauaina we’re going home.”

Holding on with a loose grip, he led Firkle. He wasn’t going to be too rough with this one, but.. he had to get him to eat.

#all-my-friends-were-glorious #all-my-friends-were-glorious - Firkle #force feeding tw #abduction tw #pregnancy tw #Transmasc pregnancy tw #injury tw #injury while pregnant tw #mouth injury tw #mouth trauma tw #starvation tw #alcohol tw #smoking tw #medication tw #possession tw

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blue-rphub · 1 year

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alright very general trigger warning on this bcuz i’m gonna quickly discuss my experience w/ fetishmining/baiting

in relation to the last anon; my first rp account ever was metal sonic, & i think one of my first ships was with a sonic (i think. can’t remember i was 14). but they were VERY insistent on having threads focused around feeding (forced feeding, i should add) and at the time. i was like... this is very weird and uncomfortable and i don’t like it but i kinda just sucked it up but in retrospect i shouldve told them to fuck off and shove it LOLLL

tldr don’t suffer and power through it if something seems wrong or makes you feel uncomfortable

#rp stuff #i think someone who follows me needs this tagged #force feeding tw #ask to tag #fetishbaiting tw #i guess that'll do #also they were a nice person out of character all this aside so i was kinda lead into a false sense of security and this was pushed on me+#VERY hard. never confronted them about it i think i eventually just dropped all our threads and unfollowed them and they never reached out #again so LMAOFHJSHFDK #DONT FALL FOR IT JUST BLOCK THE CUNTS BESTIE!!

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notsoyoung-neil · 27 days

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hehe meatloaf over and over again that’s funny

not.. really.

i wasn't allowed to eat very often; I was only really allowed to eat meatloaf. like, for weeks on end. it made me so nauseous sometimes, but if I didn't eat myself, I'd be force fed.

but I don't, like, blame you. you didn't know, you thought it was funny... but it isn't for me, sorry.

#neil.ask #neil.txt #neil nordegraf #young neil #scott pilgrim roleplay #scott pilgrim rp #spto #spvtw #// sorry nordegarfers I have him my trauma //#force feeding tw #tw force feeding #tw malnourishment #malnourishment tw

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hopes-memorial · 5 months

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Execute your muse! Go wild with whoever you want lol

Fair warning, I suck at names so much, and since they are one of my favorite to write for, I have to do it to Amai :)

Candy Addict's Final Meal

After being taken to their execution grounds, they appear in a strange hallway, decorated with childish drawing to make it look like a forest and led by a Monokuma in a dress and wing with pigtails to a room decorated with sweets and pastel colors on the wall. As soon as they stepped into the room, the Monokuma that was leading them and another dressed as a witch grab them and threw them in a cage. Once they're locked in the cage, they're force fed meat and bitter things that are laced with sleeping medicine that quickly makes them start to pass out as they struggle to keep what they are fed down. Before they can lose consciousness, they are taken out of the cage and thrown into a cold oven that slowly starts to heat up before spiking heavily in heat. They're not even able to scream thanks to the medicine, and when it's over, all that's left is their charred bones. The two Monokuma cry as they lose out on a meal.

#ch: amai sato #musings #//i couldn't think of a name #force feeding tw #drugging tw #death tw

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rie-092 · 18 days

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FATHER, CAN I DIE?

✶﹒ platonic yandere! manhwa fathers x suicidal/overworked daughter! reader

summary : maybe they should just lock you in your room to make sure that you won't do something dangerous.

a.n : i plan to make this a series, what do you think?

abel heilon

let's start with the most chill platonic yandere! out of the guys that i will feature in this post! abel heilon, the duke of the north with a simple mindset of 'if you mess with me then i'll mess with ya' we all know how protective he is with fiona and siegren. but just imagine, what if— just what if he has an illegitimate child who's related to him by blood that he hid from the public's eyes.

anyways, the first time he met you. he became sure of one thing. damn, you were indeed his child. with that silver hair, blue eyes and personality of yours— you were indeed his child. he can't deny that because you looked like a kid version of him. well, it's not like he is denying it tho— but what the fuck is wrong with your brain anyways?!

he doesn't know if you were abused before he met you. but why in the hell are you so obsessed with suicide anyways?! why the fuck are you even throwing yourself in battles when you were a support mage?! for the fuck sake! stop! yes, you have above average amount of mana! but the hell?! you're not as strong as fiona nor siegren! stop it!

if it's not for siegren then he wouldn't know the fact that you happily greeted the assassin that was sent by the imperial family. according to him, before siegren saved you from the assassin you even have the guts to propose to that damn assassin about committing suicide together since according to you, you have fallen in love with him— hearing that story, abel couldn't help but facepalm. (first name), you're thirteen! and that assassin is already thirty-six or worse, older!

maybe because of the stress of managing the north and keeping you safe from your suicide attempts. abel finally snapped.

look, abel likes watching you enjoying your freedom. but damn, if he doesn't do anything about this— he might end up burying you before you even reach the age of 18. he won't hurt you, he swears. that was the last thing that he will do to you. but that doesn't mean that he can't take preventive measures to make sure that you were safe.

platonic yandere! abel heilon was one of the chillest platonic yandere that existed. he will let you do anything that you want, he won't take away your freedom nor hurt you. he isn't also overbearing to the point that it was suffocating. but don't make him snap, because he can be the most suffocating and controlling parent existed.

now, on your sixteenth birthday— to celebrate it. you decided to jump onto the freezing river near the manor. you expected that you'll wake up inside your room— but no. when you opened your eyes, you were inside an unfamiliar room that has no windows. seeing that you can't use your magic, you were sure that there's a magic restricting device placed around here. what the hell is happening?

the door had opened, you looked at who it was and saw abel looking at you with a smug grin. you tried to ask him what is going on but instead of replying— abel only ruffled your hair saying that it will be only him and you from now on. and that was when you realized one thing— abel had taken your freedom away from you.

but abel didn't care. cry until you have no tears left, he doesn't care. the only thing that he cared about was keeping you alive. and this is the only thing that he know to achieve his goal. but don't worry, he will visit you everyday and give you books to make sure that you won't get bored. so, can you stop being a btch and appreciate his efforts?

he doesn't care if your eyes lost its usual enthusiasm and spark. he doesn't care if you stop eating at some point— because abel can shove the food inside your mouth to make sure that you stay alive.

oh, by the way— fiona was the one who made the room where you were staying now. she just wanted to make sure that you were safe! and the only place where you can be safe is the place where you can't use magic! so, forgive them, will ya?

“should i just cut off your arms? so that you won't be able to use your magic again?”

gallahan lombardy

okay, as far as you know— you are not really a suicidal type of person. but for your father, gallahan lombardy you are. because for gallahan, overworking is another way to try to kill yourself after all.

gallahan is a sweet person, i swear. he won't hurt you at all and isolating you? no, no, no, gallahan won't do that! but he still couldn't help but become paranoid when it came to you. you were way too focused on studying— maybe because of the pressure that you were getting from the other people.

your sleep only lasted for two or four hours, you always isolate yourself inside the library. and gallahan didn't like it at all— look, you need to take it easy and rest. the only time you leave the library was when gallahan and tia drag you outside to eat in a cafe or buy new clothes.

platonic yandere! gallahan loves to spoil you. you wanted to buy books? here you go. want to try home-cooked foods? sure, he'll cook it for you. do you want to go to the festival with tia? alright! as long as he will go with you two.

but then, a certain event made gallahan snap. it was a normal day and gallahan entered the library to drag you outside so that you could socialize with the family. but then, he saw you unconscious on the floor, buried in the books and your nose was bleeding. gallahan was panicking, he didn't know what to do. what if you don't wake up? what if something bad happens to you? or worse— what if you die? if it wasn't for shananet who saw her younger brother's panicked face and her niece's condition. then gallahan won't be able to calm down and call the family doctor.

and what is the doctor's diagnosis? you were overworked. and after hearing that, rulac lombardi, your grandfather along with your auntie and uncles saw how your father's face darkened while looking at you who was peacefully sleeping on the bed.

and then, after that incident. you couldn't help but become confused when gallahan didn't scold you— instead, when you woke up. you saw him smiling softly at you. he didn't even ask you to take it easy. he just lets you do what you want.

but what you found odd was your father started giving you foods and drinks everytime and after consuming those things. you started feeling tired and before you knew it, you always ends up asleep. and once you woken up, you were already on your room. with tia cuddling with you while your father was asleep while sitting on the chair next to your bed also asleep.

knowing how innocent your father was, you never suspect a thing. you just kept on eating and drinking the things that he was giving to you. and you never questioned why you always get tired after it. your father loves you so much, so he wouldn't do anything— right?

plot twist, gallahan actually puts drug on your food and drinks to make sure that you will take a rest and never overwork yourself again. but a year later, you started losing your sense of sight because of it. but gallahan and tia don't care when you have them? oh, just thinking about their sweet (first name) being dependent on them was enough to make them very happy.

“sorry, honey! this is just a precaution, okay?”

#manhwa x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #yandere manhwa #yandere manhwa x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #gallahan lombardi #abel heilon #tw. yandere #tw: force feeding #tw. isolation #tw.dark content #tw: drugs #tw: obsessive behavior

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