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whumpinthepot · 2 months
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@febuwhump 2024, Day 25. Waterboarding
Art for @coyotehusk of his ocs Mica and Nancy!!
Mature art tag: @frogkingdom @coppercoyote @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @ilasknives @alittlewhump @demondamage
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ex0rin · 2 months
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TWD S11E04 | Rendition @febuwhump | Day25: Waterboarding
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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year
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I got waterboarded by the members of Sleep Token.
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ziptiesnfries · 8 months
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The Interrogation, part 2
part 1 - tag list: @gala1981 - Roux & Ambrose masterpost
CWs: water torture, manhandling, previously broken finger, creepy/intimate whumper, minor character death, blood, knives
Roux gasps and splutters as the interrogator yanks their head out of the icy water. Immediately, they start coughing, water pouring out of their mouth. Once they’re able to drag in a full breath, they start, “I t-told you—I told you everything I know—”
After Ambrose left, the interrogator came back with a metal tub, and Roux had finally cracked. The details of the job they’d been given spilled from their lips, a desperate attempt at avoiding further pain.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Even after they talked, the interrogator dragged them to the tub and pushed them under. Over, and over, and over.
The interrogator drops them. With their hands tied behind their back, they’re in no position to catch themself, and they wince as the edge of the tub smacks their ribs. They can hear the indifferent shrug in the interrogator’s voice as he says, “Boss said to dunk you anyway.”
“Why?” they demand. Why would Ambrose want them to keep getting tortured if not for information? Punishment?
They try to struggle upright, but the interrogator keeps a firm grip on the back of their neck. Again, his voice is indifferent. “Not my business.” Then he shoves them back under.
It’s getting harder and harder to hold their breath long enough, and they start inhaling water a moment before the torturer lets them up again. They lean against the edge of the tub and shiver as they hack up what they just swallowed. Water drips down their shoulders, soaking their shirt. It didn’t feel cold in here before, but suddenly it’s like the AC is on full blast. They wonder if that’s something else Ambrose ordered.
Finally, the interrogator sighs, releasing his grip. “I think that’s enough,” he mutters. “It better be, anyway.” Roux feels pathetically grateful as his footsteps recede, relieved to hear the door shut behind him.
They try to shuffle away from the tub, but they lose their balance and land in the cold puddle next to it. Their shoulder hits the floor, the movement jostling their broken finger. Shit.
Roux squeezes their eyes shut and takes a deep, shuddering breath, wishing their team would just show up and rescue them already. How long have they been here? It’s hard to tell—it feels like a long time. Interrogations never feel short, even when they are. But this hardly counts as an interrogation anymore.
They startle as the door opens again, and they find the energy to struggle up to their knees. What now? they wonder desperately. Did the interrogator change his mind? They don’t think they can survive more waterboarding.
But when they finally get themself upright, they see Ambrose approaching. Dread fills their stomach as he grins at them. “Aw, look at you—you’re soaked.”
“Fuck you!” Roux snaps. The sudden effort triggers a coughing fit, and they double over, trying not to lose their balance. Ambrose patiently waits for them to finish, quiet as they straighten up and glare at him. “I told him everything you need to know—”
“I know.” He crouches down, and they realize he’s holding a towel under his arm. “Thank you for that, sweetheart, I really appreciate it. I thought you might want to be dried off.”
They narrow their eyes, trying to figure out what kind of sick game he’s playing. “I’m fine,” they mutter. They’re still shivering, kneeling in a puddle of cold water, but whatever he’s offering, they don’t want it.
“Oh, come on, you must be freezing.” He drapes the towel around their shoulders, rubbing it up and down their arms.
They flinch away. “Don’t touch me—ah, fuck!” Their back hits the tub, and their broken finger pushes up against it. They lurch away—and right into Ambrose’s waiting arms.
For a moment, they’re so startled that they can’t even move. He wraps his arms around them, pulling them into his lap, and suddenly their head is pressed against his chest as he rubs their back. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “Oh, you’re even lighter than I thought you were …”
Their face flushes a deep red. “What the hell are you doing?” they hiss. “Let go of me!”
“Aw, but you’re just so cute like—ow!” His jaw snaps shut as they headbutt him in the chin. They only get a small moment of satisfaction before he yanks their hair back, glaring at them sternly, the same way he might scold a dog. “Hey. Don’t be like that, sweetheart; I’m trying to help you.”
They scowl back at him, still uncomfortably aware that they’re sitting in his lap. “What the fuck?” they demand. “Are you—” Their stomach twists. “Are you trying to flirt with me or something?”
For a moment, he looks confused. Then he starts laughing—a deep, full laugh, like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Oh, no, no, of course not. That would be like—like flirting with a teddy bear. Or a puppy.”
Their face gets even redder, their thoughts going from relieved to offended. They get the urge to headbutt him again, but he’s still gripping their hair, keeping them from moving. “I’m a fucking adult, first of all,” they snap. They’re certainly mature enough to handle romance—they just don’t want it from him.
“Oh, I know.” He grins at them fondly, and their skin crawls as his fingers scratch against their scalp. “But you’re so adorable.”
Usually, when people call them cute, Roux either brushes it off or takes advantage. After all, it’s easier to be a criminal for hire when no one expects it—and, being under five feet tall, most people expect some kind of sweet, innocent demeanor from them. Roux works with it. But here, wrapped up in Ambrose’s arms, being seen as cute is starting to feel like a serious liability.
Roux shoves their shoulder against Ambrose’s chest, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on him. “You’re a creep,” they mutter, wishing their hands were free so they could punch that stupid grin off his face. “Let go of me!”
But the stupid grin remains, and he continues rubbing the towel up and down their arms, keeping a tight grip on them. “If you keep squirming, I’ll dunk you in the tub,” he murmurs. “Then you’ll be really cold.” He looks pleased by the idea, like he’d love to see them shiver harder.
The same thought Roux had about him earlier floats up in the back of their mind: What a goddamn freak. What’s wrong with him?
Despite the threat, and despite their violent shivering, they can’t bring themself to stop squirming. They hate having his hands on them, and he seems like he’s getting annoyed with it. “Can’t you just sit still?” he mutters.
“No. Fuck off.”
He sighs, and their stomach drops as he hooks an arm under their legs and picks them up. “Well, the tub it is, then.”
“Wait!” they gasp. “Wait, no, I—” But he’s only a step away from the tub, and before they can protest further, he dumps them in.
Suddenly they’re submerged in icy water, soaking the rest of their clothes, sloshing into their boots. They gasp at the shock of it, open-mouthed as they stare up into Ambrose’s grinning face. “I warned you.”
A violent shiver runs through them as the cold sets in. “You fucking bastard.” They lean against the side of the tub, awkwardly scooting into a sitting position so they’re not so submerged. Not that it helps; they’re soaked all the way through, and not even Ambrose’s flimsy towel could do anything about it now.
Ambrose opens his mouth—but he’s cut off by a distant banging noise. His grin disappears. He narrows his eyes as he glances at the door. “I’ll be back.”
He leaves them alone, and it’s a relief not to have him watching as they struggle to their feet. Their legs tremble with the cold as they step out of the tub, dripping water all over the floor. The towel, which was still wrapped around them when Ambrose dumped them in the water, sinks to the bottom of the tub. It probably wouldn’t do them much good with their hands still tied, but it would be nice to have something to dry off with.
The noises outside are getting louder, and Roux lets themself feel a weary sense of hope. Sure enough, when the door bangs open, a familiar figure grins at them through a black ski mask, and relief floods through them. “Roux!” Cruz exclaims. Then his face falls as he takes in their condition, hurrying over to them. “Shit. Are you okay?”
Roux lets their shoulders relax, even though they’re still shivering. “I’m fine,” they say, even though it’s not strictly true. They turn around as Cruz pulls out his knife to cut their hands free. “How long was I …?”
Cruz saws through the rope quickly. “We lost contact for four hours.” Four hours? It felt like longer than that. “This place was higher security than the client let on—no wonder you got caught.” He shakes his head, like he has a longer rant in store about the client. Roux gets the feeling that whoever hired them is getting charged full price, despite the fact that Roux didn’t get the files they were sent here for. “Anyway,” Cruz continues, “don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. You got tortured.”
The torture wasn’t even the worst part, but Roux keeps their mouth shut. Thinking about how Ambrose acts around them sends a chill down their spine that has nothing to do with the cold, and all they want is to go home and forget about it. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Cruz gives them a look that says they’ll be discussing this later—a conversation they’re already dreading. But, for now, he just squeezes their shoulder and pockets his knife. “Right, let’s go.”
The scent of blood hits Roux as they step out into the hallway, making them slightly queasy. A familiar black-clad figure wipes her bloodstained knife on her pants. “Hallway’s clear,” Violet announces, casually stepping over a body. The face is turned away, but Roux is pretty sure it’s the guy who waterboarded them. Roux has never been quite comfortable with killing—it’s more Violet’s department than theirs—but they feel a sick sense of satisfaction that their torturer is dead now.
They don’t have time to feel guilty about it, though; they have a more pressing question. “Did you happen to see a tall, blond guy in a suit?” they ask Violet.
The same part of them that’s relieved to see the torturer dead is hoping she’ll say, Yep, the body’s just around the corner, wanna see? Roux isn’t usually one to wish death on others, but Ambrose was … unsettling. More than that—he was creepy, and it was laser-focused on them. They wouldn’t mind being rid of him for good.
But Violet shakes her head. “Nope, no one like that. We should go, before reinforcements show up.”
Roux tries to hide their disappointment, ignoring the way Cruz raises an eyebrow at them. “Right, yeah, let’s go.”
Violet leads the way, hopping over the scattering of dead bodies she left in her wake. Usually, Roux would feel a little more nauseated by that—they love Vi; they’ve never quite gotten used to her penchant for killing, though—but they’re distracted by the thought that neither Cruz nor Violet have seen Ambrose. Did he see the carnage and decide to bolt? Roux hopes so, because they can’t stomach the thought that he’s still lurking around here somewhere, waiting to pounce.
Relief washes over Roux when the team finally bursts out into the cool, early morning air, and Cruz hurries them toward the van. Roux collapses on their knees inside, and as soon as Cruz and Violet shut the doors, the van lurches into motion.
Lyon is in the driver’s seat, maneuvering away from Ambrose’s building as quickly as he can. “Status?” he asks, his voice tight with worry.
“Walking; breathing,” Roux replies, slumping against the wall.
Cruz rolls his eyes as he pulls off his ski mask. “They’ve got a broken finger, some blood on their face, and they got waterboarded.”
Lyon inhales sharply, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Jesus.”
Violet pulls off her mask, too, shaking out her long, purple hair. “I killed four guards—that’s as many as we saw. No sign of whoever was in charge.”
Roux’s chest tightens as Cruz turns his gaze on them. “Did you happen to find out who was in charge?”
They manage to keep a poker face as they nod. “He said his name was Ambrose Lacrosse. Tall, blond guy.” A real fuckin’ creep, they add in their head.
Lyon thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “I’ve never heard of him. That doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous, though.” His voice hardens. “I’ll have to chat with our client, because if they knew he was this dangerous and sent us after his stuff anyway …” His voice trails off, and he lets out another aggravated sigh before his eyes flicker over to the rearview mirror. “You okay, Roux?”
“I’ll recover.” And they will—physically, at least. They’ve had worse injuries than this before.
“We’ll have Sonny check you out when we get back,” Lyon says, referring to the team medic. “No more missions until they clear you.” Roux bites back a groan—they should’ve expected some recovery time, but they hate being idle. They briefly meet Lyon’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and his gaze softens. “I’m sorry this happened. I never would’ve sent you if I’d known …”
They wave a hand. “It’s not your fault.”
Cruz slides to the ground next to them and wraps an arm around their shoulders, despite the fact that they’re still soaking wet. “We’re just glad to have you back in one piece.”
They sigh, leaning into his warmth, and their anxiety about Ambrose melts away. Right now, they’re safe with their team, and that’s all that matters.
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We Go Down Together, Ch 2
Ch 1
Relationship(s): Cassie Perez & Cordell Walker
Tags/Warnings: Torture, Kidnapping, Waterboarding, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence
Summary: While Cassie and Cordell wait for rescue, their captors take things up a notch
Written for @whumpuary Alt Prompt 4: Forced to Watch
Taglist: @theladywyn, @klaatu51, @ihavepointysticks, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134
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Cassie was losing track of time. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been held, only that it had been more than 36 hours, which she only knew because Walker said so. She wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.
She knew she was tired. She knew she was cold. She knew she was hungry. She knew the concrete floor was comfortable enough to go to sleep on but she was still dozing off, which wasn’t helping her sense of time at all.
“They’ll find us,” Walker said out of nowhere. “James knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah, they will,” she agreed. She glanced over her shoulder at the moonlight filtering through the window.
“We just need to hold out a little longer. That’s all.”
“Trying to convince yourself or me over there?”
Walker smiled wryly. “Can’t it be both?”
Cassie tried to smile back. “Well…. Got any fun games to play while we’re trapped here? They probably taught you some in the marines, right?”
Walker hummed. “Yeah, but there’s no ceiling tiles or dead rats for us to count. And I was told ‘I Spy’ could get us killed so you may just have to be bored for a while.”
Cassie would take being bored over the alternative. “Guess we’ll just have to keep ourselves entertained then. Got any fun stories? Maybe including some potential theories on who these guys are and what they want from you?”
He sighed. “The only thing I know is that they, allegedly, want me to join up with them. As far as who they are and why they want me…. I’m guessing this is tied up in what Miles was looking into since it sounds like they’re looking for a replacement for Fenton….”
She snorted. “What? So to get you to work for them they kidnap you and threaten you? Doesn’t sound like the best recruitment strategy.”
“Agreed. Which has me wondering if there’s a bigger motive. Then again, Fenton was ready to kill himself to avoid their wrath….”
“Yeah, I guess….” She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see something lowering from the vent. “Walker.” She motioned toward the vent. “Looks like it’s coming down on your side.”
He followed her gesture and carefully made his way over to the edge of the cage. “An…origami swan?” He caught it as it fell from the vent and brought it in. “Do we have a fellow captive?”
“Sounds plausible. Is there a note on that thing?”
Walker untied the swan and unfolded it, frowning and turning a blank page toward her. “Nothing. Unless…” He picked up the string and stared at it. “Knots. There’s knots.”
“Some kind of code?” Cassie supplied.
“Exactly.” Walker silently counted the knots. “0007…. That’s flight codes.”
“Is that important?”
“Maybe….” Walker turned the string over in his mind. “Maybe it’s a message. Or maybe they just want us to know they know codes….”
“Right….” Cassie stood up and got as close to the vent as she could. “Hey! You still up there?!”
“Quiet!” a woman’s voice hissed. “They’ll hear you.”
Walker gave her a Look but stood up to the vent as well. “Sorry. We, ah, got your message. Can you… Who are you?”
“My name is Julia. Julia Johnson. I’m a journalist,” she said. “I’ve been investigating these psychos for the past year. Are you a Texas Ranger?”
“Uh, yeah, we both are,” he confirmed.
Julia cursed. “I knew it…. They needed a new guy after Fenton….”
“So this is about Fenton?” Cassie still thought that was a weird recruitment process but if Julia had been investigating them for a year, she must know her stuff. “Why are they doing it this way?”
“It’s how they operate,” Julia said gravely. “They break you down and then build you back up again, mold you into what they want. They’ve done it to so many… They’re experts.”
Suddenly, there was a loud bang, like a door being opened. Cassie whipped around to check their door but soon realized it was coming from upstairs. “No… NO!” Julia shouted off some random numbers (probably another code Cassie didn’t recognize) as she was taken away from the vent.
“Don’t worry,” said another, smoother, male voice that had Walker clenching his jaw. “I’m sure you two can keep each other company.
Cassie swallowed hard and, not for the first time, wondered if she might be in over her head here.
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The introduction to Julia (and her sudden removal) left Cordell rattled for the rest of the day. With nothing to do but think and make bad jokes with Cassie, there was little else for him to focus on.
“What are you thinking about?” Cassie asked him out of nowhere.
He hummed. “Thinking about the roast Mama’s gonna make for us when we get out of here,” he lied. “What about you?”
Cassie shrugged. “Ben. He’s probably freaking out right now. I hope he’s okay….”
Cordell nodded. “I’m sure he is. He’s got Liam.”
“Yeah….”
There was clanging outside the door and Cordell slowly stood up, ready to face whatever their captors were going to throw at them next.
He tried to put himself between them and Cassie as much as he could, but as soon as the cage door opened, he was shoved back against the bars opposite Cassie. Two of the goons held him in place and, even without the leash on his ankle, he wasn’t really in a state to fight them. He was too hungry, tired, outnumbered, weak.
Which meant all he could do was watch as the other two went to Cassie.
One of them grabbed her by the arms, holding her firmly to his chest while the other brought in a waterboarding chair. She struggled, but like Cordell she was tired and hungry and didn’t have nearly enough strength to fight back in any meaningful way. It wasn’t long before she was strapped down and anything she had to say was muffled by a cloth laid over her face.
Then the water started.
And all Cordell could do was watch. “This your big plan?” he growled, trying to sound more confident than he was. “We’re Texas Rangers! We don’t break easy!”
“Maybe you don’t.” Cordell whipped his head around to see Sean lurking in the background. “What, with your history in the marines and all. But a greenhorn like her?” He shook his head. “She won’t last that long. We both know that.”
Cordell narrowed his eyes. “Drastic measures, I assume?”
“I did warn you.”
The sound of Cassie choking brought Cordell’s attention back to her. He tried to break his arms free but there was no use.
All he could do was watch as wave after wave of water assaulted his partner. In between waves, when Cassie might have a moment to breathe, one of them hit her with the cattle prod. It was torture just to watch.
It didn’t take long for the message to click. Sean wasn’t going to wait around for Cordell to break. Given his training and experience, it would be a waste of time. But Cassie? She would break. And if watching her fall didn’t break him, he knew they’d take it further.
And all he would be able to do was watch.
It was too long before it was over. Cassie was put on the ground, coughing her lungs up in a puddle, and still they held Cordell back. It was only the sound of his leash being undone that kept him from lashing out.
Once he was let go, he scrambled to her side of the cage. “Hey, partner,” he said gently. “It’s over. You’re okay. We’re okay….” Pretty little lies like that kept falling from his lips; he couldn’t tell who he was trying to convince more as he all but put her in his lap. “We’re gonna get out of this,” he promised.
Cassie coughed again, weaker this time, but nodded. “Yeah…. We will….”
Cordell went without sleep again that night, splitting his energy between coming up with a plan and watching over his partner.
He wasn’t going to watch Cassie break.
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cxldblxxded · 6 months
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you're worth saving, my dear.
I AIN'T QUITTIN' YOU // @fangmother
THERE WAS A moment there where he thought he'd never see her again. It flashed through his mind as a nail gun was being used to shatter each individual metacarpal bone in his dominant hand - he was going to die here, and maybe that was for the best. What had he done for her, really? What had he done except weigh her down, leech resources off her, and complain about her violent lifestyle? She'd be better off without him, in the end. The least he can do is keep his mouth shut. He doesn't understand everything his captors are saying, but he understands enough to know they want information on her whereabouts - she'd vanished for several days without him, so even if he wanted to tell them where she was, he couldn't with any reasonable certainty. He doesn't want to, anyways, and it's a good thing he has no voice so information couldn't slip through his grasp between screams. No, no; this torture is frustratingly quiet.
IT'S WET, IS what it is. Blood and sweat and snot and tears mean he's dripping filthy puddles on the concrete, and when he sees them approaching with cloth and a bucket, naivety thinks it's because they've had enough of his face and are going to clean him off to start over.
CADUCEUS SHOULD KNOW better. His hair is pulled to crank his head back, already wet fabric is slapped over his face, and the sensation of water being poured over him causes him to gasp. He should've held his breath - bound limbs struggle in reflex as he chokes, drowning under the deluge they're subjecting him to. This one's for fun, he realizes when they laugh. He's going to die here.
GUNSHOTS ECHO IN the cramped space, and the grip in his hair lets go as suddenly as it grabbed. There's yelling, then silence, except for his coughing. He feels his restraints fall and the rag gets whipped off his face before he has a chance to do it himself; she's here, enraged, but not at him, right?
WHY DID SHE come for him? Why risk her life for him? Sure, she can come back if things go wrong - why bother? She must have known how dangerous extracting him would be, since these people don't seem the kind to fuck around - he wouldn't have begrudged her if she'd let go. Look at him. This sad, wet, pathetic, shivering thing. He'd broken someone's arm when he'd first been taken, but he hadn't even managed to kill them before they got the upper hand. Surely she has better things to do with her time than rescue him.
HE SWEARS RAINER can read his mind sometimes. You're worth saving, my dear. The words give him permission to exhale, thin chest shuddering under the weight of everything he's endured the past twenty-four hours, and his good arm hooks around to the back of her neck in a tight hug.
HE'LL MAKE THIS up to her one day, or at least try. Until then the most he can offer is this.
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spookyboywhump · 1 year
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cain takes the water gun as a hint that wren wants to go swimming and fucking waterboards him
OH NO-
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gcldfanged · 7 months
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21 [Veld - monstersmade]
021. — Force my muse’s head under water.
Having water constantly poured on him didn't seem so bad in theory, he figured the pressure might start to make his neck sore (depending on how he was restrained), but failed to take several things into account.
They were underground in the dark and with his clothing waterlogged, he was struggling to contain the natural urge to shiver from the chill. Not only that, but he could barely see when the next bucket was coming with his hair plastered over his eyes from the deluge. Each downpour came as an unwelcome jolt to the system, sometimes Verdot would stop and let him have a 'rest period', seemingly, then douse him again. This continued for hours.
Miserable as he was, he was slightly regretting having underestimated water curing as a form of legitimate torture. He refused to speak, refused to make eye contact when his head was wrenched back. It was unpleasant to sit through, but not enough to make him start feeling true fear.
Arms steeled with thick corded muscle yanked him out of the chair, his hand still bound behind him by tight cuffs. Bent over a what looked like a water trough for domestic chocobos, his mentor shoved him facefirst into the basin. His eyes clenched shut, water flooded his ear canals, his lips tightened. He could hold out.
But Verdot didn't hoist him back up like he was expecting. All of his upper body strength was leveraged against the back of Yoon's neck and base of the skull as a few air bubbles expelled from his nose rose to the surface. The agent felt his chest begin to constrict, beginning to try and muscle his way back up due to the lack of oxygen. He bucked like an angry bull, muffled noises from the depth of his throat getting garbled by the water. His mind was racing, was the elder agent actually going to let him pass out?
Jae was pulled back just as his mouth gasped open, getting a mouthful of water and some (thankfully) air lodged in his throat, pharynx burning as he coughed and sputtered. He was barely given three seconds before he was shoved down again, getting the cold liquid up his sinuses and flooding the inside of his mouth. Again and again he was brought back from the brink, stuck in a hellish limbo of just barely having enough air to not suffocate, but also having water caught half in his airways. He gagged and threw up at some point, it was all water. It poured from his throat as he continued to heave even more out onto the floor.
He was exhausted, his limbs could barely move. The recruit was visibly shaking, his bloodied knees trembling as they barely supported his weight. Without realizing it, he'd passed out near what he thought was the end.
Jae-hyo awoke to Verdot hastily unfastening the cuffs keeping his hands bound and rolling him onto his side in case he needed to retch again. His waterlogged hair was carefully pushed back out of his face, a large thumb rough with calluses opening his left eye to check for a response. He wasn't sure if his pupil constricted or what cue he gave away, because he couldn't even move if he wanted to, unable to keep his heavy lids open- going slack in his mentor's arms as a thick blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.
"Shh, I've got you kiddo," Verdot muttered against against the crown of his skull, feeling the rasp of his facial hair the the craggy scar tissue marring his cheek.
Stormy grey-blue eyes cracked open, glancing almost dreamily at the ceiling.
"Did I..." Fuck, was that his voice?
"Did I fail the exercise?" Jae rasped, feeling hot tears of shame gathering at the corners of his eyes and spill down his already damp cheeks.
Verdot only held onto him tighter, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades in a calming fashion.
"No... No, you did great. You did so well, you were so good for me."
For some odd reason the answer made him finally crumble, heaving out some horrible utterance caught between a sob and a laugh of relief, burying his face into the warmth of Verdot's torso- Their hands clasped together hard enough that he was certain the elder man's watchband would leave an imprint in his skin.
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BRACKET 1
FINAL BATTLE
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TW: child abuse, murder, mass murder, physical abuse, torture, waterboarding, electrocution, cult, animal cruelty, animal death
Mrs. Momose propaganda
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Titania propaganda
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serickswrites · 2 months
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Board
Warnings: captivity, restraint, torture, forced to watch, drowning, water torture, waterboarding
Team Leader screamed their frustration as they tugged uselessly on their restraints. They had been trying fruitlessly to break free of the cuffs that kept them standing at the far wall. Whumper had restrained them such that they couldn't sit and that they couldn't turn away from the out of reach center of the room. Turn away from everything they saw. Turn away from Smallest Teammate.
Smallest Teammate was sputtering and gasping from the tilted over chair, their hair just brushing the dirty ground, their face obscured by the filthy towel Whumper had slapped them with. They had initially tolerated the water torture with minimal crying. But all of their hard won strength and courage failed after Whumper had relentlessly continued the torture.
Team Leader had lost track of how long Whumper had been at it with Smallest Teammate. Had lost track of how long they listened to Smallest Teammate choke and gasp around the water being poured on their face. Had lost track of everything because they couldn't break free.
"I think that'll do for now, don't you think?" Whumper said as they let Smallest Teammate's chair drop the last few inches to the floor. Smallest Teammate let out a wordless shriek as they fell. They continued to shriek and sob as Whumper left the room.
"Smallest Teammate," Team Leader called, desperately trying to catch their attention. "Smallest Teammate."
But Smallest Teammate didn't reply. They continued to sob as they lay on the floor.
"You have to help them," Team Leader said hoping that the rest of the team could hear them through the broken communicator. Their headset had long broken, but they hoped that somehow the microphone and ability to transmit hadn't been damaged. Because they needed help. They needed the team to come and help them. They needed the team to come and save Smallest Teammate before Whumper graduated from simulating drowning to actually drowning Smallest Teammate.
"Please," Team Leader begged one more time, "if you can hear me, please come help them. I need you to come help them."
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harukapologist · 1 month
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Lately I was thinking about 0108 parallels since they're both so associated with water and I had a thought.
Haruka and Amane are both shown drowning in their MVs
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Amane tries to swim back up; she believes she can still get what she reaches out for,
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she believes she can still truly be a “good girl” despite how much it is destroying her and how terrified she is of the very people who enforce the cult ideals on her, to the point that their faces never appear in her MVs (in Magic, there weren't even any humans beside her to begin with, only the mascots and animals)
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Haruka, on the other hand, just lets himself fall into the water; he does try to reach out for what he wants—his mother’s love—later on in the MV
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but she promptly disappears, i.e he already knows it’s no use doing that. He’s accepted that he cannot become what is expected of him, he believes that he’s inherently at fault and has already accepted that (thus the inno verdict in T1 ignited a lot of inner conflict and self loathing, even though he tries to appear confident and happy and Okay)
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whump-mania · 11 days
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“Let’s see…I’ll start by tying you down, right over there on that table. I think I’ll begin with the scalpel, then move on to the taser.”
“S-Stop it—”
“Then I’ll clean the wounds with alcohol—that’ll hurt, by the way—and I’ll continue with…I’ll go with waterboarding.”
“Let me go.”
“Once you’re worn out from that, I’ll put you into a stress position. Not sure which one yet, but if you fall asleep, I’ll be sure to cattle-prod you awake. Yes, that sounds like a good plan. Let’s get started!”
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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year
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The band Sleep Token waterboarded me when I tried to listen to their music.
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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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sister-lucifer · 15 days
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do you guys think i could make water boarding/threat of drowning/forced asphyxiation via water sexy
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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 5 months
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Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,997 Words
Summary: The daycare crew are having a normal night. Or so they think.
Warnings: Injury, Blood, Gore, Amputation, Stabbing, Broken Bones, Eye Trauma, Bruises, Waterboarding, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Controlled Shock, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Prosthetics, Blindness, Partial Blindness, Trauma, PTSD, let me know if I should add anything else.
Abnormality
Tonight was unusually…normal. Sun was cleaning up the daycare for the day. Moon helping with things that needed fixing like the one bent bar in the play structure he was currently bending back to normal. Lunar was preparing for tomorrow like he usually did.
The only thing really missing was Solar. He wasn’t sitting at the security desk taking inventory of the children pre-checked in for tomorrow. Usually Solar would take great pride in making the list and taking note of any children with accommodations and making sure everything needed for the accommodations were taken care of.
But he was notably absent. None of the three had noticed this until almost halfway through closing procedure since Solar was usually to himself about it. But his occasional muttering that was not there was weird not to hear at this point. It was unnerving not to hear it, hear him giving little chuckles when the known rowdy or rambunctious kids were on the list.
“Sun, have you seen Solar today?” Moon asked.
“No, why, have you?” Sun responded almost immediately, almost as if he’d been waiting for the question to be asked.
“Guys, if Solar’s missing or something, we’ve gotta find him. He’s our brother too!” Lunar told them from where he was just finished with the coloring pages and crayons.
“I agree. I have to patrol soon anyway, I’ll go look-“ Moon was cut off by the heavy daycare door being opened and a form collapsing on the ground. It was a barely recognizable figure but he still knew exactly who it was.
The collapsed heap on the floor was dripping water, blood, and oil. Their right arm entirely missing with wires exposed and fizzling still. Their hair was clumped and tangled with water and oil and blood and what looked suspiciously like acid of some kind.
Their back had two knives stuck into it still, their face sitting against the floor with their clumped hair shrouding it. Their clothes were waterlogged and bloody and oily. Moon could also visibly see that their leg had been broken in two places at minimum.
“What the-!” Lunar screeched, looking at the person in horror at their state. In truth, Moon was shaken by it too. He knew he’d have to fix it, but the sheer amount of injuries was horrific. He couldn’t imagine how they felt.
“S-Solar?” Moon asked, shakily kneeling by him and moving his hair off his face. Moon almost vomited at the sight. Solar’s right eye was hanging from it socket and he had a large stab wound in the other, which was fizzling with severed wires.
“Please, no more.” Solar had a fraction of his voice, his voice box sounded broken and crushed, actually. And it was letting out white and jarring sounds as he begged for an end to the torture that had already ended.
Moon could see the damage to it visibly. His throat had handprints on it, deep and bruised in already. It sent fire through him. He wasn’t scared anymore, he was absolutely livid. He gently held Solar’s remaining hand and he didn’t care that his hand got covered in liquids as he put his hand on Solar’s head and pet his hair as best he could.
“You’re okay. You’re safe, Solar.” Moon tried to assure him.
“Please, Crescent, stop!” Solar’s voice broke and whirred like gears and a few musical notes played in Solar’s distress. But the words had hit Moon harder than Solar’s panic.
Crescent? The same Crescent he’d ran away from? Moon felt a whirl of emotions as he got Solar into his arms as carefully as possible, avoiding the knives that would have to stay in for now. They hadn’t just basically allowed Solar to be tortured all day with their neglect to check on him, but they’d left him at the mercy of his abusive brother who had somehow managed to get through dimensions.
“That’s…Solar…” Sun’s horrified voice came from nearby and Moon nodded to tell him he was correct. Moon could hear Lunar throwing up into one of the trash cans.
Moon felt something before he saw it, having been touching Solar. It felt like jolts. Moon’s horror grew seeing Solar had a few sparks and glitches before Solar let out a scream, filled with glitches and whirs as a controlled shock wracked his body.
With his proximity and contact, Moon felt the volts of it and it made his endo ache with sparks but he refused to put him down. He refused to let his brother hurt alone. He tightened his grip to give Solar what comfort he could and held him until the shock ended.
Solar fizzled and jolted with aftershocks, his body twitching and his mouth leaking oil and blood at the toll the shock took on his already battered body. He didn’t deserve this but Crescent had decided he did for whatever reason.
“Sun, take care of Lunar. I need to fix him.” Moon told him and called his fly wire. The hallway to his room would be too long of a walk. So fly wire to get up to the balcony it was.
Moon was at this for hours, Sun and occasionally Lunar coming in to check on them. But finally Moon had fixed Solar as best he could.
Solar’s leg had been set, the endo fused on the breaks and plating put in to support it. His new ‘prosthetic’ arm was tuned successfully and connected properly to Solar’s wires and his systems. Moon had managed to replace Solar’s right eye but the wires in the left weren’t salvageable so he’d put in a spacer replacement eye until he found a way to fix the wires and replace the eye properly.
Moon was working on washing Solar’s hair and face off the blood and oil when Solar finally woke up from his temporary power off. Solar jolted up, fighting something Moon couldn’t see and screaming once he felt the water and washcloth on his face and protecting his head.
In a blind panic, Solar swiped at Moon’s arms and it caused him to drop the bowl of water he was holding onto the floor but Moon gently held Solar’s hands, shushing him and slowly calming him down.
“Don’t do that again! Please, Crescent, please!” Solar hiccuped.
“He’s not here, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s Moon. You’re safe, Solar.” Moon assured him, bringing him up to sit so Moon could hold him.
“I…I was so scared…” Solar’s voice broke and it made Moon’s heart ache.
“I’m so sorry, Solar. I’m sorry we weren’t there when you needed us. But Crescent will never hurt you again, I promise.” Moon assured him, rubbing his back.
“N-No water. No more water.” Solar sniffled.
“Why no water?” Moon asked. Then the realization dawned on him. The water in Solar’s artificial lungs that he’d had to siphon out. The way water had only doused Solar’s face and hair.
“He waterboarded me. Please no water.” Solar hiccuped.
“Okay, we’ll use the sanitizer station instead. That way there’s no water.” Moon assured him.
“Don’t leave.” Solar whispered.
“I’m not leaving. None of us are leaving you alone. Not until we get that asshole and make him pay.” Moon rubbed his back as he helped him up. Solar was shaky on his net fixed leg but Moon held his arms around him to support him relearning to use the limb properly.
Moon got him to the sanitizer station and went in with him since he wasn’t stable yet and let Solar hide against him as the machine beeped and filled the pod with sanitizer mist.
Solar trembled a little bit Moon made sure he was comfortable against him and pressed his head against Solar’s, tucking Solar’s face into his neck. The machine whirred and dropped down the machine that Moon carefully put Solar’s hair into for it to use steam and sanitizer to wash it out.
For how scared he’d been, Solar was being incredibly brave at the moment, letting the machine clean him without water while he clung to Moon. Once Solar was sanitized, Moon grabbed a towel once the machine stopped and wiped off Solar’s face softly, avoiding his mouth and nose so it wouldn’t send him into a panic again.
He wrapped the towel around Solar after and led him out, drying him off of the mist and more so hiding his body so Solar felt like he had the security of not being nude. Moon didn’t mind to see his siblings naked, but Solar was newly traumatized, Moon didn’t want to add another layer of stress to the situation.
“I have clothes for you in your room. Do you want me there or to help you?” Moon asked.
“I can do it.” Solar told him. “Stay outside?”
“Of course.” Moon agreed, leading him to his room and Moon stood outside waiting as Solar shakily closed over but didn’t shut the door.
“How is he?” Sun whispered.
“He’s alright now. I’m gonna kill Crescent and present Solar his head as a trophy. The damage was so extensive I had to replace most of his internals.” Moon whispered back.
“It was that bad? It didn’t look that bad…” Sun looked at the closed over door in confusion. Sun was right, it hadn’t looked as bad as it had been.
“A lot of blunt force trauma to his internals. His abdomen was beginning to swell by the time I found the bleeding because it was so full of oil and blood.” Moon sighed. Solar had been in such horrible condition, he was glad he’d had enough parts on hand to replace everything and his computer had been able to synthesize new parts and the prosthetics.
“Moon? Sun?” Solar asked, slowly opening the door. Thankfully he’d managed to get dressed successfully, and he hadn’t needed help. Moon was a bit proud, he thought it would take longer for Solar to accustom himself to his new eye and new arm.
“Hey, Sol.” Moon gently brought him in for a hug.
“I’m really hungry. Can I eat?” Solar asked.
“Yeah, I knew you would be. I replaced your stomach. I told Lunar to make something light so you don’t stress all the new internals.” Moon smiled. He would be happy for Solar. Protective more so than normal, but happy Solar was home and he was safe and recovering.
“What did he make, do you know?” Solar asked.
“Well, he knows your food sensitivities so he made smoothies and chicken and pasta soup for dinner, I think.” Sun piped up.
“I’ll have to thank him.” Solar gave a little smile as he let the twins lead him to the kitchen in the break room that was usually for the daycare kids but they used it as their own kitchen as well.
“You don’t need to thank anyone for anything, we’re your brothers. We love you and we want to see you healthy and happy. Doing these things for you like making you food or fixing you even are small in comparison to how much you mean to us.” Moon ruffled his hair and Solar couldn’t hold back the teary smile and Moon loved seeing him smile. Solar was such a hard-working sweetheart, it was nice to see him relax and be taken care of , especially after something so horrible happened to him.
“I hear my big brothers!” lunar called out.
“Yeah, you caught us.” Sun chuckled.
“Get those tall butts in here and get your food. I already fed the kitties too.” Solar gave a laugh as he pet one of the cats sitting on the far end of the counter.
“Hi Ratchet.” Sun greeted his cat.
“My god, his name is Ratchet?” Solar asked with a laugh.
“Well, there’s Ratchet, Hatchet, and Bubble.” Sun told him.
“Moon?” Solar asked for Moon’s attention.
“Yes?” Moon asked back with a little chuckle.
“We’re never letting Sun name a cat ever again.” Solar snorted.
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