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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Febuwhump: day twenty-five

Prompt — waterboarding ( @febuwhump prompts)

PLEASE BE WARNED THAT THIS SNIPPET IS VERY GRAPHIC, VERY TRIGGERING FOR CHOKING, SUFFOCATING AND GENERALLY VERY DARK!

TW: waterboarding (VERY DETAILED) interrogation, team Whump, leader whumpee, interrogator Whumper, nonchalant torturer, traumatic event, suffocating, choking, gagging, vomiting, spewing, dissociation

PLEASE AGAIN READ THE TAGS MIND THE WARNINGS

Henchmen led Whumper down into the basement where they held the Hero team. Whumper followed, hands in the pockets of their black combats, eyes skimming the cold stone walls as they waited for Henchmen to open the door.

“Supervillain said they refuse to talk,” said Henchmen to Whumper, looking back over their shoulder at them and frowning. “Said you’re the best interrogator in the city.”

“Yeah?” Whumper asked, tilting their head, tone bored. “High praise from Supervillain.”

“You don’t look like a good interrogator.”

Whumper let out a small hmph of a laugh which Henchmen went pale at. “I— I mean, it’s just— you’re young. You look younger than me.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” said Whumper with a shrug, half lidded eyes on Henchmen and the door. “I get paid hourly, so if you want Supervillain to pay me more, which I would appreciate—”

Henchmen shook their head and turned their attention back to the lock. “Right sorry.”

Whumper leaned their back against the wall and repressed a sigh. They weren’t a very patient person, which probably came with the job description but how many times had they had this same conversation with other employers.

The lock finally clicked and Whumper pushed off the wall, grabbing the door as they passed Henchmen. They met Henchmen’s eyes, looking up at them with the same blank expression they usually wore.

“Listen, henchmen, it gets pretty bleak when I’m interrogating. You sure you can stomach it?”

Henchmen nodded, though their face expressed their hesitance. “Supervillain said I had to accompany you.”

Whumper blinked, then glanced back at the stairs up to Supervillain’s house before sighing.

“Fine. If you want to impress him so damn much.”

Henchmen blushed, flustered. “I— I—”

Whumper was already walking down the stairs to the Hero team, ignored Henchmen’s embarrassment.

“You coming or what, sycophant?”

“Uh, yes!” Henchmen said and closed the door after them.

Whumper stood at the gate of the powered cell, frowning at the Hero team inside. Their eyes passed over each of them, Whumper knew some of them from the news. Especially the tallest one, Leader. One look at them and Whumper knew they wouldn’t talk if Whumper broke every bone in their body. The rest of them… well, Whumper had more faith in their own talents than the other member’s resilience.

Whumper’s eyes landed on a familiar face sitting furthest from the door, their lips twitching as they met Rogue’s eyes from across the room. Henchmen was getting to work opening the gate when Rogue spoke.

“Whumper?” Rogue asked, their voice a mix of confusion and fear. The rattle of chains as Rogue shifted forwards in the dimly lit cell, squinting.

“Hey, Rogue. Funny meeting like this, huh? How have you been?”

“Good,” said Rogue in that same guarded tone.

“Rogue?” Leader asked. “Who is this?”

“An old friend,” said Rogue, swallowing, their eyes going back to Whumper as Henchmen opened the gate and Whumper stepped through. “We grew up in the same neighbourhood.”

“Mmm,” Whumper hummed fondly. “In the Grouts of the city, eh, Rogue? How’s your mum?”

“She’s good.”

Whumper smiled. “Good, good. Tell her I say hi. She’s a lovely woman.”

“I will.”

“Good to see you, I hope you know this is all just business,” Whumper said gesturing to the cell and themselves with their hand.

“You don’t have to hurt us.”

Whumper’s smile melted from their face, eyebrows raising. “Oh? Your team are all loose lips, huh? You’ll just tell me about Superhero and his secret weapon?”

Rogue went quiet, so did the rest of the cell. A humourless smile crept onto Whumper’s face. “Yeah… I didn’t think this job would be that easy.”

“What do you want?” Leader asked. Whumper flicked their gaze to Leader who was on his knees, hands cuffed to a ring in the wall behind him like the rest of the Hero team. Yikes, what kind of sicko was Supervillain to have metal rings embedded in stone? Whumper supposed it didn’t matter.

“I want to get paid,” said Whumper, stretching their arms above their head. “Ugh, then I want to go home and watch TV. That sound good to you, heroes?”

“I think he meant… like what do you want with them,” said Henchmen quietly to Whumper. Whumper frowned and made a verbal “huh!” in exclamation.

“I just told them,” said Whumper. “Supervillain wants information on Superhero’s secret weapon, I’m here to get that information and get paid.”

Leader curled his lip back into a snarl. “Good luck with that.”

Whumper shrugged. “Thank you, Leader. However I am a professional, I don’t need luck. I’m trained to get stoic people chatty.”

“You really think Supervillain hasn’t tried? Torturing us, depriving us of food and water? Leaving us down here to starve and then when that didn’t work going back to torturing us? We’re built to endure,” said Leader with a mirthless smirk. “We don’t break.”

Whumper nodded. “Okay. We can do this the hard way then.”

Whumper turned to henchmen and asked them to grab a cloth and a hose to attach to the tap. “Oh, and a chair, please, henchmen.”

Henchmen left the room, their footsteps ascending was the only sound permeating the cell. Whumper walked over to the girl sitting directly opposite Leader. The only person on the Hero team that Whumper didn’t recognise. Maybe a new recruit? Leader lurched forward, but Whumper just cocked an eyebrow at Leader.

“What’s your name?” Whumper asked her. “This isn’t the interrogation yet, don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me. Just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Whumper looked at Rogue who kept their eyes trained on Whumper. “How long have ye been down here?”

“A while,” Rogue told them with a huff.

Whumper nodded. “Supervillain really starve all of you?”

“Yeah,” said Rogue, a little sheepishly.

“Nothing you’re not used to,” said Whumper with a little laugh. Rogue joined in, although a bit awkwardly. Whumper’s eyes scanned the other people in the room who looked a bit dazed at the flyaway comment. Then they reclined their head against the wall. “Oh. Sorry. You never told them.”

“It’s okay,” said Rogue with a shrug. “They were bound to find out eventually.”

Whumper nodded again. Then let out a sigh. “You don’t want to tell me Superhero’s plan, do you? Save you all some suffering.”

Rogue laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Well, god loves a trier.”

The door to the basement creaked open and Henchmen came down the stairs and left all the things Whumper asked for at the front of the cell, near the gate. “Ah. Wonderful. Thank you henchmen.”

Whumper stood in front of the team of heroes and cleared their throat while Henchmen attached the hose to the leaky tap.

“Okay. For my first trick, I need a volunteer. Leader?” Whumper asked with a smile. Leader scoffed but nodded. “Sure.”

“Excellent.”

Henchmen freed Leader from the wall, the cuffs staying on and led Leader over to chair that Whumper stood at.

“Sit down,” said Whumper. Leader obliged them, and Whumper grabbed Leader’s arms and brought them up over the back of the chair. It was all very gentle, very professional, as if Whumper wasn’t trying to hurt Leader. It sent warning bells off in Leader’s head, but all he could do was follow along with what Whumper was doing.

Henchmen handed Whumper another pair of handcuffs and Whumper thanked them. Whumper attached one of the cuffs to Leader’s cuff chain, and the other to the chair so Leader couldn’t move his hands away.

“Henchmen will you get the legs?”

“Of course.”

Before long Leader’s ankles were cuffed to the chair as well and Leader couldn’t get up from the seat.

“Alright, people. Last chance.”

“Do you worst.”

Whumper smiled. Then they tipped Leader’s chair back. Leader let out a soft oomph as the chair fell back the rest of the way until Leader was facing the ceiling, Whumper and Henchmen standing above him.

The last thing Leader saw was a towel coming down over his head. Leader would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of what happened next. None of Supervillain’s men had taken his sight, or tied him to a chair just to force him awkwardly onto the ground. The top of his head was the only thing on the ground, that and his arms that were pinned beneath Leader’s weight on the chair, his legs in the air.

Another towel added to the initial one on top of Leader’s head, then another and Leader could feel his heart in his throat when he heard tape being ripped. The towels were wrapped in a single layer of duct tape over Leader’s eyes and another layer below his chin.

Leader swallowed, his hands balling into fists behind him that was already causing pins and needles in his arms.

There was a moment of silence: the atmosphere balanced on a precarious edge of fear and tension. Whumper nodded at henchmen to turn on the tap and picked up the hose.

“Any takers?” Whumper asked again. They weren’t usually this nice to the people they were torturing, but Rogue was an old friend. “No? Okay. Sorry Leader.”

That was all the warning Leader got before he was inhaling water. It was slow, trickling into his nose and Leader realised with a sickening beat that Whumper was water boarding him.

Leader held his breath on instinct, shaking his head, his arms trapped uselessly behind him. His legs were kicking at the cuffs that kept them locked to the chair.

“Leader?!” One of their team asked, voice shrill. Leader couldn’t tell who, and his lungs were aching with how much he was struggling to get the towels off his face, turning away from the hose that was relentless.

“Leader!”

“Wait! Stop! Stop!”

Whumper stared impassively at all the team members, eyes half-lidded, one hand in their pocket as they regarded them all as if they were all just waiting in line for a coffee.

“You can stop this,” said Whumper matter-of-factly.

One of the members beside Rogue spoke up: “Leader wouldn’t want us to.”

Whumper dropped their head, a sardonic expression crossing their features. “Are you serious? Do you really think Leader is thinking about his ideals right now?”

Leader gasped, unable to hold his breath anymore and he started gagging on the air, gurgling water and retching, his body spasming and limbs pulling at the restraints. Whumper didn’t even blink at the change.

“The instinct when being water boarded,” Whumper began, “is to hold your breath. Which Leader here just learned is a bad idea because eventually your lungs want air.”

“Whumper,” Rogue said in warning, yanking at the chains holding them back.

Whumper’s impassive eyes met Rogue’s. “Leader’s body needs air, except he was inhaling water which triggers his gag reflex and is effectively scorching his throat as we speak.”

“Stop it!” One of the members cried. “Stop narrating your torture!”

Whumper shrugged. “Fine. We can sit in silence if you prefer.”

Whumper did just that. They fell silent and so did everyone else. Leader was choking, convulsing, fighting, gasping, all very wetly, the water pooling around Leader’s head as his body tensed. Leader pushed against the chair, his body going stiff as he tried to tilt the chair back up to stop the easy onslaught of pain.

His brain was screaming at him, his body fighting and not understanding that he should stop trying to breathe but his mind wouldn’t let him stop panicking enough to let him hold his breath.

Leader threw his body weight into his legs forward and to his shock the chair went upright. Then Whumper caught the chair and Leader gasped in sweet sweet air, gasping, gasping, not getting enough air and started choking and spluttering on it.

“You had enough Leader?” Whumper asked, their voice matching their face that was a cold, emotionless thing.

Leader was still breathing in air, trying to get his heartbeat under control, drunk on oxygen.

“Leader?” One of the team asked.

“No… don’t—” Leader rasped, then descended into a coughing fit. “Don’t tell them anything.”

“Oh,” said Whumper, letting the chair fall backwards again. “Sounds like you got a bad cough there Leader. You need some water?”

“No! Wait!” Leader protested.

Whumper let the hose fall over Leader’s face again, and Leader held his breath again like an idiot. Whumper stared down at Leader’s chest, wired so tight, trying not to let drowning bother him.

Whumper looked back at the other members of the team. “This is the easiest way to get answers from people, in my professional opinion. Plus it’s not disgusting, no lasting damage on Leader or you guys, except you know, trauma and psychological damage, but you know what I mean.”

Four horrified expressions looked at Whumper. Whumper glanced back to Henchmen who stood at the tap, their jaw tight.

Whumper knew it was a professional, practical reason why they didn’t really react to inflicting pain on people, but at times like this, when even Supervillain’s right hand was uncomfortable with Whumper’s methods… that made them feel inhuman. Wrong.

Whumper’s eyes found Rogue’s that were burning into them from across the cell. Strangely, they were the only eyes that Whumper really cared about. So funny how the past can creep up on you.

Well, a job is a job at the end of the day, Whumper might as well do one that they’re good at. The people in this room were Heroes because it was their talent. Whumper’s talent was pressure point and pain, and knowing just how far to go to get someone to snap.

Leader gasped below Whumper, bringing their attention back to the writhing worm on a hook below them. “Ah. There we go. The inhale. Human anatomy fucks you everytime, huh, Leader?”

“You’re a sadistic bastard!” One of the team members screamed.

Whumper frowned. “I don’t enjoy this. It’s just a job. Same as you Heroes, and your Superhero. Ask yourself this, if Leader was in your position and you were in his, would he protect you or would he protect Superhero?”

“You’re a bastard!”

Leader wheezed, trying to push himself up again, but Whumper had placed a foot on the chair by Leader’s head. “Ah, ah, ah. Leader. You’re not breathing again until someone starts talking.”

Leader convulsed erratically under the water, trying to lift his head up to try and get some air in his lungs. He craned his neck up, but the air attacked his senses and Leader gasped and fell back again. The hose mercilessly flowed over his nose again.

Whumper looked up suddenly. “Hey, do any of you know if Leader has asthma? Cause if so you need to decide faster, this is not a good thing to do to people who are asthmatic.”

“And it’s a good thing for normal people?” One of them asked and Whumper scoffed.

“Semantics,” they said.

“We have to tell them,” said Rogue quietly.

“What?!”

“We can’t Rogue.”

“Listen,” Rogue said, their voice edging on desperate. “I know Whumper, okay?! They’re not going to stop until they get what they want. They can sit here all day and torture Leader and not feel a thing.”

“Rogue’s right,” said Whumper with a sigh. “I get paid by the hour, so really this whole debate back and forth is good for me. Financially I mean. Take your time. Leader, do you mind if they take their time?”

Leader gurgled and choked and spluttered.

Whumper smiled at the team. “See? He’s fine. Take your time.”

“Oh shut up, Whumper,” said the quiet girl. Whumper looked at her, the new one that sat opposite Leader and wouldn’t offer her name. When she looked at Whumper now her eyes burned with a sizzling hatred.

Whumper smiled at her, recognising that level of hatred as their own. Whumper remembers being where she was, powerless to stop bad things from happening to the people they loved.

It felt full circle, that moment, and it ignited something within Whumper that was a little feral, and broken, and wrong. Whumper’s eyes flashed at her, whose glare was unbroken and burning a hole through Whumper’s head, or it would if it could.

Below them, Leader was still spluttering and choking and gagging and wrenching and writhing but Whumper’s attention was fixed on the new girl now.

“Huh. You’re chatty now? Wanna share your name?”

“No,” she said. “I want you to die.”

“Thats a little forward, considering we’ve just met,” said Whumper, glancing at Rogue, whose wide eyes were fixed squarely on the girl. “They always like this, Rogue? Little rude for a Hero.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.”

Whumper hummed to themselves. They moved the hose away from Leader’s head and smiled wanly at the sounds of Leader gasping and coughing on air again.

“Still with us, Leader?” Whumper asked, not taking their eyes off of the angry girl.

“Go… go ffu—urself,” Leader wheezed between laboured breaths.

“Waterboarding is special, huh, Leader? You need breaks in between or it’s not as effective.”

“You—”

Whumper pressed the hose back to Leader and Leader immediately started coughing. Whumper smiled at the girl whose jaw tightened at Whumper’s blasé style of interrogation.

Whumper took the hose off of Leader again, to more coughing and spluttering.

“How’s the cough, Leader?”

“Ff—” Leader didn’t even get a syllable out before Whumper pressed the hose down on his nose again.

“Leader!” One of the other teammates exclaimed, but Whumper had their gaze trained on the girl. Watching her muscles tightening.

Whumper smirked.

Oh they just found the weak link. Maybe they had a special relationship with Leader.

Whumper told Henchmen to turn the tap off and dropped the hose to the floor. Things just got interesting.

“You can put Leader upright,” said Whumper to Henchmen as they walked to the angry girl. Whumper crouched down in front of her. She glared up at Whumper.

“Whumper,” said Rogue in warning. Whumper smiled down at the girl and said: “Rogue, if you try and dissuade me again I will have Henchmen gag you.”

The girl’s eyes flicked briefly to Leader who was pushed to an upright position. Leader spewed some water from his lungs onto the floor in front of him, head lolling forward and groaning.

“What’s your name, little Hero?” Whumper asked.

“Little Hero,” she replied, eyes hard as she stared at Whumper.

Whumper grinned. “Funny.”

Whumper got to their feet and walked over to Leader, purposefully. They ripped the towels from Leader’s head and grabbed one, coiling it meticulously into a shape resembling coiled rope. Then Whumper shoved it between Leader’s teeth, thankful that the towel was long enough to tie it behind Leader’s head and double knot it.

Leader groaned behind the gag.

“Okay,” said Whumper. “Because you all seem like good guys, I’m giving you a bonus last chance to tell me what I want to know before I really traumatise you all.”

Leader wasn’t even really there behind the eyes anymore, just trying to focus on breathing, on surviving. He wasn’t even pulling at the cuffs anymore.

“How can he answer?!” Rogue demanded hotly. “You just gagged Leader!”

Whumper’s smile seemed to suck all the coldness from the room. “I’m not asking him questions, Rogue. I’m asking all of you. Now then. We go again.”

This time, Whumper left the chair upright and just yanked Leader’s head back. Then Whumper grabbed the hose and grinned at everyone.

He stuck it on Leader’s nose. After a few seconds it was as if Leader was being electrocuted, his body convulsing violently against the chair to the cries of his teammates.

“Stop!”

“Stop it!”

“WHUMPER!” Rogue screamed, all of them struggling and pulling on their restraints. Whumper didn’t react. They didn’t even look at any of them.

“Stop please!” One of them cried wetly, oh yeah. Good. Tears meant they were almost there. On the verge of telling Whumper what they wanted to hear.

Leader’s hands and ankles were bleeding from how hard he was pulling and straining at the cuffs. Whumper had to commend the team, they don’t think they could withstand seeing someone they love and trust being tortured like this.

“THE WEAPON IS A PERSON!” Whumper pulled the hose away immediately, head swivelling to the confessor. Whumper grinned when they saw it was the little Hero. Oh, Whumper knew she would snap first.

Whumper smiled sweetly while Leader coughed and vomited water from his lungs pathetically. Whumper pulled the gag from Leader’s mouth and more water pooled out, Leader’s throat expanding and vomiting water onto the ground. Well, Whumper wouldn’t be a good interrogator if they let their leverage die.

“Who?” Whumper asked softly.

The entire team was shivering, chests heaving, emotion running heavy through them, as if they were all getting water boarded. Hero’s wide eyes were on Leader who had appeared to go unconscious. Whumper didn’t care.

“Who?” They asked again, more firm this time.

“Let him go.”

“Tell me who or I’ll slit his throat right now, Hero.”

Hero pursed her lips at Whumper, eyes burning.

“Oh,” Whumper said, glancing between Hero and Leader. “Oh… you’re not in love with him, are you? No. That wasn’t loving forlorn glances that was… that was guilt, wasn’t it?”

“Whumper please—” Rogue begged but Whumper held up a hand that effectively silenced them. Hero sniffed, eyes glued on Leader in the chair.

Whumper smiled. “Oh Supervillain is gonna laugh when he realises he had Superhero’s secret weapon locked in the basement this whole time.”

“Henchmen, will you be a dear and check Leader’s pulse for me?”

There was a few seconds of silence, the team waiting with bated breath that turned into a collective sigh when Henchmen said: “still alive.”

“Wonderful,” said Whumper. “We need to bring him upstairs with us—”

“No!” Hero yelled, struggling against her own restraints. “Leave him alone! It’s me you want, take me,” she pleaded, tears streaming freely down her face.

“To make sure he’s okay,” said Whumper pointedly. “When waterboarding goes wrong sometimes people get hypothermia, so we have to be careful. But don’t worry, Hero. You’re coming too.”

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evilmidnightlurker · 3 months

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Bang Brave Bang Bravern is the gayest Super Robot anime ever and I have seen Star Driver.

youtube

#bang brave bang bravern #super robots #masami obari #shirtless muscle #critical levels of gay #it's also intensely traumatic #cw: waterboarding #massive tonal dissonance #Youtube

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hilacopter · 2 months

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saw these screenshots on reddit and I just.

totally normal behaviour. no antisemitism or xenophobia here no sir.

#this is why i don't go on twitter #idk how to do the waterboard filter thing help #leftist antisemitism #antisemitism #cw csa mention #jumblr

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tbhkconfessions · 5 months

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(submitted by @mothi-ee)

#tbhk #mod 📿#terukane #aoi akane #minamoto teru #mothi-ee #cw emetophobia #not even waterboarding would get me to admit something like that…

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theinternetisaweboflies · 4 months

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Gates to Heck Chapter Five

Teru had been trudging along the raised bunds of the rice paddy for what felt like at least a half a kilometer, but the fields that stretched out ahead of him seemed infinite. The only light came from the stars overhead, which were shining brightly without the city’s light pollution. He must have teleported all the way to Furikake Village, the agricultural municipality north of Seasoning City, near the border of Flavor Prefecture.

“Good evening, Kaijin,” the voice came from directly behind him, “or should I say Hanazawa-kun?”

Teru whipped around to see a man standing a couple of bunds down, his feet dry, and his smile ominous.

“Your aura was too depleted to track until now. I only felt it for a moment, but I would know it anywhere. Do you really not recognize me?”

Teru laughed because he really hadn't until then. Final Dog had been the last target in his anti-terrorist speedrun, and by the night he confronted them, he was running on nothing but fumes and canned coffee. There had been too many auras swirling together into a rat king of raw energy for Teru to recognize one he hadn’t encountered since he was ten years old.

"Well, to be entirely fair, my head was in a bucket for most of our introduction,” said Teru.

Teru hadn't learned how to waterboard someone from Saturday morning anime. He had learned it the hard way, in his own cramped apartment bathroom, while a man who called himself Shiro-san asked Teru if he knew any other espers.

Shiro-san didn't believe him when he said no.

Shiro-san hadn’t been part of the Fab Five or even the Seventh Division’s upper echelon. He was just some unscarred member of middle-management that Teru had never seen again.

“You bailed before the Seventh Division went down, huh?” asked Teru. “Did you get fired, or did you just feel like they couldn’t help you reach your full potential as a sadistic asshole?”

“I could see the writing on the wall,” said Shiro-san.

“Pretty sure that was blood,” said Teru, inspecting his chipped nail polish.

“The Seventh Division’s leadership was too weak,” said Shiro-san. “Ishiguro couldn't even put a brat like you in timeout.”

Teru didn’t think he could talk his way out of this one. He wasn’t Reigen. He just needed to keep Shiro-san talking long enough to come up with a plan. There was no way he had enough energy for another teleport. He was pretty sure if he tried to put up a barrier right now it would be about as strong as a Pringle.

Teru had been in better shape when he was ten years old, and he’d still lost that fight.

Shiro-san had used Teru’s own T-shirt and bath bucket to waterboard him. He hung Teru by his ankles with telekinesis, pulled the collar of his Sailor Moon T-shirt down (or up, from Teru’s point of view) until it covered his nose, and doused his face with water.

It went up his nose. Teru let out a reflexive gasp and let in even more water. It felt like he’d inhaled hydrochloric acid instead. Everything between his nasal cavity and his lungs was searing with a pain unlike he had ever experienced.

The third time Shiro-san pulled back the T-shirt for an interrogation break, Teru had bitten down as hard as he could. Shiro-san had been using his hands, because his powers were occupied with the restraints, and he wasn’t a skilled enough esper to multitask. Teru tasted blood before he had to unclench and hack it up, along with what felt like a liter of water.

Shiro-san released him. Teru lashed out with an uncoordinated blast of energy and bugged the fuck out of there, booking it to his closest bolthole. He didn’t go back to his apartment for over a month.

“I seem to recall giving you some trouble too,” said Teru.

Shiro-san flipped him off, and Teru saw the stump of an index finger that he had bitten in half four years ago.

He hadn’t been able to eat raw carrots for years after that. Thank god for broccoli or Teru would probably have scurvy by now.

Teru laughed airily. “Final Dog’s leadership doesn’t seem to be much of an improvement.”

Shiro-san did not laugh. He clicked his tongue in a way that suggested he had been involved in Final Dog’s leadership. “Well, you know what they say: Third time’s the charm.”

“So that’s when I’ll stop you for good?”

Now he laughed. “What makes you think you’ll live that long?”

So much for keeping him talking.

“I would have killed you already,” said Shiro-san, “but I think you deserve to suffer a little bit first.”

“Is this like a kink of yours?”

“I don’t want to waste time with your government watchdog sniffing around for me,” said Shiro-san. “So the question is: How to hurt you as much as possible in the least amount of time?”

Teru could already feel his heart rate ramp up at the simple implication that there might be something worse than waterboarding. He tried to mitigate the panic by taking deep breaths. While he still could.

“I think it would only be fair if you lost at least a finger,” said Shiro-san. “but I know from experience that adrenaline numbs the pain, and you won’t be alive long enough for it to wear off.”

“Are you still hung up on that?” asked Teru. “Sorry. I thought you were jealous of the Scars.”

Shiro-san snapped his fingers, or what was left of them. “I’ve got it! I’ll tell you a story.”

“Why don’t we ta- Huh?”

Teru couldn’t believe it. Shiro-san was actually going to do a villain monologue. Probably about his tragic backstory.

“I’m going to tell you a story about a little boy and a big organization.”

Shiro san gestured when he talked, but it was always with his right hand, like he was trying to draw attention to the missing finger. It was a cheap intimidation tactic that probably worked better on someone who hadn’t bitten it off.

“The organization was looking for psychics. This was before they had to keep a low profile, so they could recruit publicly. They put up flyers and went door to door, inviting people to join their noble cause. They didn’t find many psychics that way, but even normies could prove useful with a little… help. One day, they knocked on the door of a very nice couple with a very naughty son.”

The panic had gone, or at least it had gone somewhere far away. Everything seemed very far away, even Shiro-san, who was still talking.

“The couple didn’t care much about the organization’s agenda, but they were interested in its psychic training program. The couple ended up changing their minds, but by then the little boy had caught the organization’s attention.”

Sometimes Teru wondered how Claw found out about him, but he had always assumed it was his fault. After all, Shigeo slipped under their radar by barely using his powers. It was Teru’s dependence on his powers for everything from skipping rope to making friends that had attracted the attention of the terrorists who targeted him for most of his formative years. That was what he got for showing off.

It made sense.

So did Shiro-san’s story.

Shiro-san clapped his hands. “Okay! Looks like that did the trick. Goodbye, Hanazawa-kun.”

Teru’s feet were pulled out from under him. He tried to catch himself, but his arms were pinned tightly to his side by psychic restraints that he was still too weak to break.

He couldn’t go through this again. It was still the most painful thing he had ever experienced, his second-most recurring nightmare after choking out Shigeo. Teru still couldn’t shower for more than fifteen minutes without having to do some serious breathing exercises afterwards, which would have torpedoed his haircare routine if it weren’t for leave-in conditioner.

Teru had attempted to replicate Shiro-san’s torture technique when he helped Shigeo storm Claw’s Seventh Division to save Outoto-kun.

An eye for an eye. That was what Teru told himself, but he hadn’t been able to go through with it. He ended up dunking Terada’s head in a bucket a couple of times, never for more than a few seconds, and never with a cloth over his face. Terada had been able to hold his breath. It was still torture, but it wasn’t waterboarding.

It was, however, a much faster way to kill someone if that was the desired result.

It was also easier to keep your hands clear if they happened to be a biter.

Shiro-san lowered Teru face first into the dirty water of the rice paddy. Teru tried to turn his head, but no matter how much he craned his neck, the water still covered his mouth. This time there were no questions. There was no reprieve. The water was less than ten centimeters deep, and Teru was going to drown in it.

#not sure how i feel about this chapter #but you can't have comfort without the hurt #cw waterboarding #btw my playlist for these last two chapters was #my way home is through you #by mcr #on repeat #mp100 #terumob #terumob fanfic #mp100 fanfic

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aquatic-anxiety · 5 months

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You used to talk.

A lot.

Too much.

They didn't like you when you talked. But you keep talking, because you liked talking. You talked so much to the others. It was good, to hear you talk still.

You used to be a source of comfort for them.

Your lips pull into a frown as you curl up at the bottom of the tank fish swimming around you, accepting you as one of their own. And as you drift to sleep, more of what used to be comes to mind.

[Beginning of Dream Sequence]

Everything burns.

Your lung burns from the lack of water for so long, you're too young to be out of the water for so long. Your gills burn, you're false lungs burn, your eyes burn.

It was punishment. Punishment for talking to the others. Talking at all. They say it'll stop hurting when you stop talking.

They were liars

A high pitched sound leaves your mouth, a whine, a sob. Something. But it's not silence so they keep you from the water.

Your vision is blurry, you're gasping but you quiet down quickly. Mouthing for water, limbs weakening, your gills fluttering shut causing your lungs to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

You're going to die here. You fear. You're going to die all because you can't keep your mouth shut. Because you can't be quiet.

Why did you keep talking? You're only hurting yourself this way.

It's because you're stupid. And you deserve the pain you get from it.

Gloved hands shove you under the water and you take a big breathe of oxygen before you're ripped back out, like some cruel game.

They're saying something- demanding. They're demanding something from you. You can't hear, it's muffled. A pitch of static in your mouth and ears. You hear crying. Are you crying?

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

You can't tell how long you do this for. You're cold. You're so cold.

But at least you're quiet.

You're back in the water. Still. Quiet. You've adapted.

You've won, didn't you?

[End of Dream Sequence]

You wake up with a start, a sound in your throat but it never escapes, you know better than that. You crawl out of the tank.

You're cold.

You press against the warm fur of your caretaker. Curled into the side of his arm. And you're quiet.

They treat you much nicer when you're quiet.

#standalone; don't rb #long post #straightverse #cw child abuse #cw waterboarding #but like . reverse.#yaoiverse #whispers from shells #deep sea travels

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queenkaiju · 3 months

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I Can't Be Without

Maribat Febuwhump Challenge

Marinette remembers walking out of the convenience store, ramen in the bag on her shoulder. Then black. It was just supposed to be a quick run to the store for dinner.

When she came to, she felt bindings around her legs, arms and torso, strapping her naked body to hard, cold metal. She screamed her voice hoarse, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. A warehouse if she had to guess. She sat in the darkness, blindfold firmly in place and tears flowing unrelentingly for what felt like days.

Finally, the silence was broken. She'd hoped it was her boyfriend and his family come to rescue her, but no. It was a voice she'd hoped and prayed she'd never have to hear again.

"Oh, princess. Beautiful as ever. Even if you did let that street scum touch you." She couldn't see him, but she felt his hand cupping her cheek. She let out a strangled cry, biting his hand. Hard.

"Shit!" Adrien drew his hand back, cursing under his breath. A moment later, he chuckled, shoving a ball gag in her mouth. "Naughty, naughty, M'lady. You may not see it now, but I'm doing this because I love you."

"Please, don't." She sobs around the gag. She couldn't do anything as the man she once loved smirked at her. A smirk she once associated with victory now promised a world of pain.

She floated in and out of conciousness, not able to do anything but cry as she tried to tune out the horrible sensations.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? All she knew is that she ran out of tears somewhere along the way. She's dead inside.

Marinette had been missing for three days, and Jason was worried. At first, he'd thought she'd left, but everything she owned was still in their apartment. Her clothes, her laptop… the Miracle Box. When he finally opened it, the kwami had no idea where she was, but they knew who took her. He'd destroyed the apartment that day.

He stormed into the Batcave surprising Bruce and the rest of Jason's replacements. They got over their shock at seeing him alive quickly enough.

"Help her," He begged, on his knees before Batman. "Please, Bruce, help me."

It took two weeks to find footage showing where Adrien took her. He was out the door before Tim finished his sentence.

Lightning cracked behind Jason as he ran over the rooftops of Gotham. He desperately raced, pushing his legs to go faster, farther, ignoring the burn throughout his body.

He could hear the rest of Gotham's vigilantes in his ear, asking him to slow down, wait up. He can't.

His pace didn't falter in the slightest as he crashed through the skylight of the warehouse Marinette was being kept in. His guns were out before he hit the ground. As he took in the sight around him, his vision tinged green. Various racks of weapons, tools and sex toys. A not-quite-human sound escape his throat as he riddled the display with bullet holes.

He heard a soft noise behind him and whipped around. Jason felt his blood run cold as he saw Marinette's broken, bloody and bruised naked body strapped to a metal table. A familiar tall, lanky man was looming over her, a jug of water in hand. Jason stormed forward, grabbed Adrien by his hair, and threw him across the room.

Adrien sat up, blood matting his hair. He coughed and sat up. "Well, well. If it isn't Red Hood. Or should I say, Jason."

At the sound of his name, Marinette started struggling against her restraints. The green haze receeded from his vision, and Jason ran over, pulling the rag off her face. "Jason…" Marinette whimpered. He was about to start undoing the straps when something heavy and blunt hit him on the shoulder.

He slowly turned around, the madness coming back full force. "You…" He growled out, stalking toward the blonde bastard. Jason could see the fear in his eyes, the tremble in his hands as he dropped the plank he'd hit him with. "I'm going to kill you."

He leaned down and grabbed Adrien by the collar. The smell of urine filled the air as he hefted him over his shoulder and slammed him into the ground. Adrien hit the floor with a loud, resounding crack. Jason knelt down and pinned him to the ground by the throat.

The Pit was screaming at him, desperate for blood. Jason punched him. Again and again, each hit earning him a satisfying crunch, and a blood spatter. He finally stopped when Adrien's head was sitting at a very wrong angle, with a dribble of blood leaking from his mouth, mingling with the rest from his forehead.

Adrien was dead. The voices whispering in the back of Jason's mind should be gone, but they're not. He pulled out his gun and shot him. Once. Twice. He emptied the whole clip into the corpse on the floor, blood pooling and staining the tiles underfoot.

With his bloodlust finally sated, Jason turned back to Marinette. Seeing her cleared the fog from his mind and he raced over, panicking. "No, no, no. Marinette? Marinette?!"

He quickly untied her, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the rest of the wounds covering her body causing bile to rise in the back of his throat. He took off his jacket and balled it up, pressing it to one of the worse cuts on her side. There's so much blood. Why won't it stop?! "Marinette, love?" He put two fingers on her neck, feeling a faint pulse, getting weaker. "No… no, not like this. We promised! We're not allowed to die! Please!" He sobbed, pulling her to his chest.

"Ja… son…" She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I... love… you…"

"Marinette?" He looked up, seeing her blue eyes start to glaze over. "Marinette?!" He brushed her tangled bangs out of her face. "Mari? Please, don't leave me…" Her chest slowly lowered under his hand and didn't rise again. "Mari?! Marinette!?"

A hand fell on his shoulder, and the only thing stopping him falling into another murderous rage was the rapidly cooling body in arms.

"Jason…" It was Dick. "I'm so sorry."

#I only got 24 of the prompts #but that's fine #febuwhump #adrien agreste #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #mlb x dc #maribat #batman fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #DCUValentinesDay2024 #hurt no comfort #angst #cw blood #cw waterboarding #cw toxic relationship #cw torture #cw violence #did I make you cry?

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the-gayest-sky-kid · 14 days

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I NEED TO PICK UP MY MAN RN THEYRE DOING HIM SO WRONG

#i have a personal vendetta against this creator for how they do him but holy shit he would NOT admit that ever ever you could waterboard him #and he STILL never ever ever would say that #caps cw #aethers rants

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heavenlyhandscribbles · 5 months

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Hey kid! wanna see a magic trick

*shakes head*

TOO BAD!

*posts after months long hiatus for a brand new fandom and with horrid tags*

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE 18+

Anyways I'm back and more controversial than ever, enjoy you shit bags. All my love,

Elliot

Information about fic below:

Summary: In which Soap gets caught on the alone mission, and Ghost gets the videos. Ghost is a terrible person in this. I say that with my full chest. He's gross and filthy, and thinks about Soap as nothing more than something to use. Enjoy that I guess. First post on my AO3, and first COD fic ever, but not my first controversial fic ever.

Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, John Price (Call of Duty), John "Soap" MacTavish , Simon "Ghost" Riley, Major character death loosely used, Simon "Ghost" Riley is a Bad Man, Gore, Blood and Gore, Mild Gore, Arousal from Gore, Violence, Blood and Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Masturbation, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Cock & Ball Torture, Skin Carving, Skin Flaying, Flaying, Waterboarding

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #mw2 #ghoap #ghoap smut #ghoap fic #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #cw: gore #simon “ghost” riley is a bad man #blood and gore #non con #waterboarding

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whump-me-all-night-long · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 10

No. 10 Poor Unfortunate Souls

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

CW: civilian whumpee, intimate whumper, waterboarding, interrogation, references to being locked in a trunk

The civilian must've passed out at some point while locked in the trunk, because when they next rose to consciousness, it was through the help of ice-cold water dumped on top of them.

They gasped, spluttering and coughing, looking up with wild eyes. They were trapped in what looked like a custom made metal chair, with restraints around their ankles and wrists to keep them from moving.

The man who had kidnapped them stood in front of them, smirking and holding a bucket that water was still dripping out of.

“Rise and shine, little bird,” he said with a widening grin.

Chest still heaving, the civilian looked up at him with wide eyes. “What- what- why did y-you do that?”

The man shrugged, setting the bucket down on the concrete floor. “You were out cold there for a while. I got impatient.” Shifting on his feet slightly, the man continued, “Anyways, I thought it time we get to know each other a little better, little bird. Don't you agree?”

Immediately the civilian’s muscles tensed and they pushed themself as far back against the chair as they could. “What d-do you mean?” they asked, teeth clacking together as the cold water continued to drip down them.

“I mean,” the man emphasized, stepping closer to them and crouching slightly, “that I am going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer. And,” he chuckled darkly, “if you decide to do something as incredibly stupid as lie to me or refuse to answer, well, let's just say I'll give you some extra motivation not to.”

Before they could think it through, the civilian was already shaking their head. “P-please just let me, me go. Please, I-I haven't done anything.”

Their head snapped violently to the side a moment later, cheek throbbing where the man had backhanded them. “Wrong answer, little bird,” he chastised.

The civilian let their head fall down, closing their eyes in a useless attempt to block the tears from falling.

The next thing they knew, a hand was wrapping itself in their curls, wrenching their head upward. Their neck craned backwards, leaving them with no option but to stare helplessly up at their captor.

He stared coldly down at them. “I will ask you a question. You will answer. Understood?”

Tears sliding down their temples, the civilian could only whisper a small broken “please”.

The man shrugged before slinging a cloth over the bottom half of their face. Eyes widening in understanding, the civilian futilely tried to knock the cloth from their face, wildly swinging their neck.

However, the man towering above them had too strong of a grip for them, and, before they knew it, water was pouring down on them, causing their lungs to burn and their mouth to gape widely in a helpless attempt to draw in oxygen.

While it felt like it lasted an eternity, after only a few seconds, the man lifted the cloth from their face and surprisingly gently helped them to lean forward, rubbing their back as they coughed and gasped in large gulps of air.

If the civilian didn't know better, they'd say the hand petting their hair was comforting. After what felt like too short a time, the man was sitting them up straight.

“Little bird,” the man cooed, “I'm gonna start easy. First question, tell me your name.”

The civilian had to work their jaw for a few seconds before their voice worked again. “C-Carlen,” they rasped hopelessly.

“Mm, Carlen,” the man repeated, as if savoring the sound of their name on his tongue. “Good, little bird.”

And so it went. The man would waterboard them for a few moments then ask them a question. The civilian steadily grew more distraught, tears and snot smearing on their face as their lungs burned and ached.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the man knew basically everything there was to know about the civilian.

Their full name. Their address. Their family and friends. Their job. Habits. Hobbies. Spending habits and credit scores.

Eventually, the man let their head drop forward again, the civilian groaning at the sudden lack of tension in their neck.

The man’s hand returned to stroking their hair as they shuddered and cried quietly.

“Thank you, my little bird,” the man said softly. “You were very good for me, weren't you? I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, Carlen, you and I.”

---

Taglist: @badluck990 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-vagabond-nun @shywhumpauthor @panic-and-chaos @freefallingup13

#whumptober2022 #no. 10 #waterboarding #oc #fic #civilian whumpee #intimate whumper #interrogation #waterboarding cw #referenced kidnapping #references locked in a trunk

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