🥄 Force-feeding for Ryan or Danny please
CW: Not-exactly-human whumpee, iron burns, mouth whump, intimate/creepy whumper, dehumanization
Every bite burns.
His palms press into the uneven old floor, fingers scraping along the stained, ancient tile. He has to lower himself down, lapping up the broth with his tongue, holding back a whimper as it tingles, burns, throbs. His gums ache, his teeth hurt, as he forces himself to chew a bit of beef, swallowing only with effort.
Ryan closes his eyes against the sting of tears.
"Good," Abraham says, voice low and husky. "Again."
He swallows, tasting iron and copper. The corners of his mouth are torn and bleeding, his lips roughly chapped. As the liquid coats his mouth, the skin pulls apart, reopening tender spots that had only just begun to heal. Blood mixes with the seasoning.
Tastebuds slough away as the iron Abraham has mixed into the stew moves over his tongue, leaving tender, unready tissue to burn ever deeper.
He has to take another bite.
Ryan forces himself to lean down, trying to focus on the burn of the muscles in his arms as they stretch to hold his weight, and laps up a little cooked carrot.
His mouth flashes in terrible pain.
He coughs, fighting the urge to spit it out, feeling the weight of Abraham's eyes on him. Ryan and Danny kneel side by side on the floor, and Ryan doesn't dare look at his brother.
Not because of what Abraham might do.
But because he's not sure if he looks into Danny's eyes, that there will be anything there in the blue eyes that look back. Sometimes, Danny just... isn't there, anymore.
Ryan isn't convinced he will always come back.
Ryan breathes, saltwater dripping into the stew. The iron in it burns all the way down his throat. A bright, hot ache grows in his chest and even down to his stomach.
There's only a few bites left.
He can't do this.
"Please," He whispers. "Please, I can't."
"Of course you can," Abraham coos, syrupy-sweet, leaning over to run his fingers through Ryan's tangled hair, scratching along his scalp. It sends goosebumps up and down Ryan's arms, and he fights the urge to jerk backwards.
Never pull away from Abraham's touch.
"You said you were hungry," Abraham continues, falsely sympathetic, petting Ryan like a frightened dog. White hair falls against his cheek as he looks down. "Didn't you? So finish your food, Faerie Boy. Neither of you gets up until it's gone."
"Nnn-" He catches himself.
Never say no.
Ryan groans instead of answering, staring down at what's left in the bowl. It's not that much-
It's too much.
It's so, so much.
It's going to hurt so much.
"Y-yes, Abraham," He whispers, because always answer Abraham, never hesitate when he speaks to you. The rules burn nearly as badly as the iron. The rules... and the fact that he knows every single one, now.
It's just a few more bites.
He can't do this-
He has to do this.
The iron collar around his throat burns on the outside, and every single bite burns all the way down within.
Abraham makes him lick up the blood that drips from his tongue, too.
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For Sylvain: 🕷️ Not even Pokémon are safe from fears. Tell us your fear :)
I fear nothing! Except....
...well, if you want me to be honest, I am scared of one thing.
Back when I was an eevee, where I was born, the Angel had some friends with her. They were loud, angry, but I think they were just scared. We were all really little back then, even the Angel.
One by one, they stopped moving. Forever. I don't know what happened to them after that except that they never got up.
I don't want that to happen to the Angel. I'll protect her, just like she saved me, no matter the cost.
.....I don't want her to stop moving.
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