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#Torture
tossawary · 1 day
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Finally watching "Mob Psycho 100" properly to appreciate the animation. Teru's shift to "be a better person" is incredibly funny to me, because he's still a 13-14yo former(?) school gang leader apparently living without any adult supervision, who's also apparently been beating up the superpowered people regularly trying to kidnap him for years. So, his efforts to "help" Mob (get Ritsu back from Claw) (and befriend? him) are like:
Teru: (casually matter-of-fact) "Mob, I think we're going to have to waterboard this guy."
Mob: (in the softest voice you've ever heard in your life) "Oh. Okay."
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The whumpee knew their torture was being filmed and sent to their friends, they knew that they needed to stay strong and put on a brave face. weeks after weeks of torture broke them down, and they couldn’t help but beg and cry eventually. The whumpee felt ashamed, they had always been the strongest in their group, but now they’d been reduced to this.
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tightsweatyclothes · 2 days
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In a distant tropical kingdom, the youngest princess has been found guilty of eating snacks reserved for a foreign dignitary. As punishment, she is to wear for a whole month a specially designed ceremonial attire, made from an inflexible and waterproof material, reinforced to give very little mobility to her limbs, while trapping all her body heat. The florid decorations add significant weight to the costume, so that at all times she is forced to wear half her body weight in clothes, making every movement a chore. In a tropical climate where loose and light clothing is the norm, even on formal occasions, it is utterly humiliating. Here the princess is shown attending a garden party she was supposed to have presided over, only now she is the subject of snide glances and whispered giggles, instead of the expected reverence. Every now and then, a servant serves her, or rather forces down a little hole in her mask gag, a large cup of salt water, which she knows for a fact is collected from the urine of several men. The gag does not allow her to voice her protests, and she can only fantasize about ripping the gloating smile from the servant who is tasked with force-feeding her. To make things worse, another of her servants has "accidentally" lined the inside of her attire with a traditional herbal powder which, upon contact with sweat, produces a deep itching on human skin. Forced to observe ceremonial decorum, she can neither scream into the gag nor make excessive and sudden movements, unbecoming of of a member of the royal family.
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worldboywhump · 3 days
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Hudutsuz Sevda- Ep: 13
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shojizbae · 9 hours
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Gone South
Spencer Reid x Reader
This was not edited so if there’s hella typos I’ll prolly fix it later
Warnings: angst/comfort, gore, torture, attempted SA
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Things could not have gone worse.
The case had been going on for a week and a half. Everyone was exhausted. And now, you were gone. Well not gone, the team had clear visuals via the many cameras the unsub (the team knew his name, Cooper McNamara) had set up. Garcia was monitoring you from the seven angles Cooper had.
The team always takes it to heart if someone gets hurt. But, when someone got taken in. When Spencer had been taken by Tobias they felt like the world stopped spinning. Now their sun had been stolen.
That’s how the team refers to you—human sunshine. Now you were gone. There, but gone. Penelope was monitoring each feed with tears in her eyes.
“All right, mama, any luck triangulating the IP address?”
“No Derek I’m sorry it keeps rerouting to different locations.” Her voice keeps cracking and she’s doing her best not to let her tears drip onto her expensive keyboard.
“That’s okay, just keep working on it.” He grits his jaw
“Derek,” he removes his hand from the hang-up button, “you’re going to get her right? There’s no way this guy gets her.” The hope in voice is palpable
“No way mama you just keep tracking her.” He sighs and spins to the team. Rosie has his eyes on the feed as well as McNamara is hovering over you. You’re strapped to some medical tables with old leather straps.
“Reid please tell me you’ve got something.” Spencer is a wreck. Everyone could tell that he was madly in love with you but he would not make a move. Now someone could strip naked in front of him and it could not break his focus.
“I’ve been staring at this map and going over everything she’s sadi since JJ put this on the screen. I have no idea where she is.” His hair is beyond tousled form the amount of times he’s stressfully run his hands through it
“That’s fine, just keep going.” Morgan demands and joins Hotchner with the deputy
“Hotch, team’s loosing morale. We gotta go back to the drawing board.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Let’s refresh and restart the profile.” they get some shitty police precints coffe and some stale donuts to try to revamp their energy. They join Emily and JJ at a table and ask JJ to get David. She disapears and Rossi takes her place rubbing his eyes.
“Dave, we’re going to look at this iwht fresh eyes. Coopers has gone off the reailsand taken in an FBI agent. That’s an escalation from prostitutes and drug addicts.” Morgan reflects on when you disapeared. You were canvasings where he had picked up his last three victims. You were being your usual sunny self. giving patience to the angry locals and offering water or snacks as a subtle bribery. He turned his back for five seconds when you disapeared. He was feeling the brunt of the guilt and it was manifesting as him acting like an overly abusive boss.
“Alright, on all of the victims there was several injections in their back thigh, but toxicology was clean.” Emily looks over some of the reports.
“Did you say the back of the thigh?” Reids suddenly comes storming into the meeting room
“Yeah, why?” Morgans eyes are begging for answers
“That spot reminds me of something. Often times when a psych ward patient is acting out they will inject them with certain medications. The most common sedtive is Midazolam but most of them are comprized of natural hormones. If you inject the body with enough adrenaline they would pass out.”
“Which would explain that why it doesn’t show up on toxicolgy.” Emily concludes. Reid bounds over to the phone and calls Garcia, she picks up almost immediately
“What is it my birds of prey?”
“We need you to look into asylums and sanitariums nearby. Look for medical malpractice or lawsuits that slipped through via non compus mentus. look into owners of these hospitals that may have some allegations specifically of sexual nature.” he demands
“Anything, find my girl.” she clicks away looking through all the yucky of the nearby hospitals. They were in the middle of the midwest where everyone had secrets.
“They’re going to need a private space to inflict a much torutre without raiing suspicion.” Hotch adds
“Guys you need to get in here!” JJ calls from the computer room. The man was livestreaming you leaning over your head and heavily breathing on your face.
“Oh, you want me so bad.” He used a sultry tease but you looked disgusted. You were staring hard in his eyes. You had dirt and a bit of blood smeared on your face and your normally slicked bun had been tugged apart.
“Tell me, Ms. ‘FBI agent’,” he finger quotes and uses a mocking tone “What your name.”
“You have my badge Cooper McNamara, you know my name.” your gaze hardens more and it looks like you could spit in his face, “Tell me where we are.” you order. If you could get out you would have beat that man to a pulp but your wrists, ankles, waist and chest were bound.
“Unh unh unh, don’t get too cocky, Ms. FBI we both know who has the power here.”
“He’s a narcisist. He’s flexing his muscles on (Y/n). He wants his viewers to know that he’s strong enough to take down an FBI agent.”
“It’s more like he’s preening his feathers.” Emily offers
“Alright, my fabulous frenulum I’ve got three asylums with icky enough histories to raise suspicion in the 50 mile radius.”
“50 miles that seems extraneous.” JJ sighs
“I figured becuase this is the midwest there’s more ground to cover alos they’re not going to keep your cuckoos in the town square.” The Deputy nods in approval
“But that’s too vague so I cross referenced that with the nme Cooper McNamara and zilch. I went thorugh med school flunkies in the known area. I kept running the name and there are zip
Cooper McNamaras in this area. So I just used the last name Mcnanara and there was a doctor named Charles Mcnamara with a son named Jeffrey was in and out of juvie at the age of seventten for attempted sexual assault.”
“What’s his current adress We’ll send a team.” Reid declares
“That’s not your call,” Derek orders, “But yes, Hotch, Prentiss, you go to his house and see if there any clues as to which hospital he’s affiliated with.”
‘Cooper’ was hovering over you this time dragging a swiss armry knife slowly over your shirt
“Alright I’m going to do some bad things Ms, Agent and you’re going to be a good girl.” He’s straddling the chair and he laughs a little at you. Quickly he slices the blade across your shirt and it comes undone with the blade. Your bra is exposed as well some of your navel. The team can clearly see the red cut across your chest.
“Oh my god what is that slimeball doing to my girl.” Garcia whimpers
“Garcia she’s fine, continue your background search of the McNamara family.” Hotch reassures
mostly to himself
“So far I’ve got some ick-ick icky dirt on Charles. He had to his medical liscene in pschiatry suspened 17 years ago, when his son, Jeffrey was around ten years old.”
“Why was it suspended?”
“Medical malpractice and the excessive use of electro-shock therapy.”
“the use of ETC is almost never necesarry in fact it dos more damage than it helps.” Reid borws are in a constant furrow. Theyre drawn out of their brainstorm a ‘Cooper’ shreds the rest of your shirt open.
“I’ll hand it you,” He reaches for the cup of your bra, “you have have some tits officer.” you grunt out a ‘fuck you’ as he fondles you.
“Maybe I just will,” He sneers. He makes the fatal mistake of looking at the cameria kense and you follow his eyeline. You spot the lense and by memory locate the six others. You feel some internal relief that at least the team knows you’re alive and they’re watching you.
“you get off on rewatching this or are we live? Or maybe you’re recording?”
“Oh someones mouthy.”
“I’m just bored.” You taunt
“What is she doing?” JJ Panics
“She’s getting him to talk. Shes profiling him. She’s our profiler.” David smiles and the team too feels your humanity return. You’re not a victim. Not yet at least. You’re still their wisecracking little sunray.
“You bitch, I’ll shut you up.” He reaches for his belt and launches at you. Your first instict wa to bare your teeth shut so he can’t slip something in your mouth. Your mouth is shut tight and he relaxes.
“Good choice.” he snorts
“He doesn’t want to hurt her.” David notices “She’s way too powerful for his comfort. He knows she’s smart.”
“If he’s able to get his website to continue rerouting we should probably verify that Jeffrey McNamara has some sort of tech background” Reid metions and Garcia digs into Jeffrey’s background it shows that 5 years ago he flunked out of the local community college with a major in computer science. Finally, the IP adress lags on the same three cell towers for the fourth time and Penelope Verifies that there are two sanitariums in that radius.
“Alright there is St, Joan of Arc’s Penitentiary and Whitfeilder and Collins Mental Institution.” Garcia clicks away.
“Garcia isn’t there a church nearby-“
“St. Joan of Arc’s Holy Parish.” She cuts off getting a small burst of hope
“Alright cross reference that with our boys see if we could get any dirt.” Rossi orders as you stare this torturous serial killer in the eye
“I think my knife and I should have some fun with you, pig. Are your gonna squee for your boss.?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here.” Everyone freezes
“What’s she doing?” JJ begs
“What do you mean?”
“I was only asking locals if there was something they needed. I work in the low income control division of the FBI. I was on a routine check of the neighborhood to makme sure that some new medications that were sent out in the local clinic.”
“Oh so you’re one of those libtards who thinks junkiw should get freebies?” your eyes dart quickly to the blinking red light while he inspects the red tool. He flicks his swiss army knife back open and runs it tantalizingly down your chest, “Oh no tears agent? Usually they start crying by now. Don’t worry you’ll cry soon.” He sinks the blade in right by your ribs. You grit your teeth as warm blood spills down your side.
“What’s she doing? why would she egg him on?” JJ starts to break
“She’s giving us the element of surprise.” David sighs in relief
“Oooh someones a tough girl.” He teases. He slides his blade across your stomach and your muscles tense below the blade. Tears pool in your tear ducts against your wishes and a grin splits his face like the cheshire cat.
“There you go. don’t worry it’ll all be over soon.” He fakes a soothing voice
“Ding ding ding, Ive got a hit. There was an latar boy who plead secial assault twenty years ago at St. Joan of Arcs and I mangaed to dig through the St Joan Hospital emplyment record to find one Dr. Charles McNamara employed for over thrity years where he specialized in child psychology.” Garcia gulps, “He spent a weekend in jail for assaulting the preist who allegedy molested his son, Jeff. Afterwards he deovolded. He started drinking lots of alcohol and expirementing with electro shock therapy. After three years of nearly fatal expirements He lost his liscense after a one Suzanne ’Suzie’ Addams passed due to exhaustion in his office.”
Rossi’s hand held rings and he answers the phone for Hotch
“Well Dave it’s not looking good here. There’s news paper clippings with every know victim taped to his wall. Theres even some miscellanoes crime pannels logging there recent spike in missing persons cases. There’s very little furntiure at his house. He’s got bills stacked up on his counter. He’s a walking cry for help.”
“Alright any other pysical evidence? We’re going to send a team to St. Joan of Arcs Penitentiary that’s where we suspect he has (Y/n). You keep digging around and we’ll stay in touch.”
Derek orders JJ, and Reid to suit up and gather the officers. Reid already has his hand reaching for his bulletproof vest. “Rossi I want you to stay behind on the line with Garcia and Prentiss in case he escalates the torture. Due to the agrarian location of the hospital they dispatch forest rangers to canvas the woodlands. The sanitarium had been closed for upwards of five years. Reid get’s the drivers seat and starts the car before Derek can get out the door.
“Slow down man we got visuals on her.”
“One of our best Agents is in danger and we have a location. Why wouldn’t we race off to her?” He slams his palm on the drivers wheel.
“Alright well calm down man,” As he tries to soothe hsi phone rings
“He’s back Derek.” Rossi states plainly sending the link to his phone. And impressive feat for the old man, Morgan gets in hte dirvers seat and clicks the link to see the man sitting on your lap palming himself.
“You know you’re kinda pretty for a pig.” He leans forward and hold your jaw and you gnash against his hold, “Oh oh oh let’s not get violent now.” you bite his hand and he draws it back immediately, “You bitch!” he slaps you and you gasp but he quickly undoes his buckle and reaches for the fly of his jeans. He slides the leather out of the denim loopholes and folds it once and puts it in your mouth. He reaches in his pants and you thrash against your holds.
Jeffrey fishes himself out and you slam your head against the medical table. Your time your cheek and grit your jaw but he forcefully pull you square with him. The look of indigence could’ve killed several monarchies and Rossi takes a note not to piss you off as not to receive that glare. Derek puts the screen down and grits his jaw. theres a bit of gagging before the man rears backs
“You bitch! You bit me?” He screams like you betrayed him and he punches you so hard your nose starts bleeding. Tears slip out of your eyes but you don’t dare sob. He leaves the view of the camera and the team hears metal crashing around the sounds cords being plugged in. He curses and punches what sounds like a metal box. He comes back with two metal probes and a menacing smile.
“You’re gonna get it now. You know what these are?” He waves them around like they’re toys “these are the electrodes I’m going to use on you.” Reid floors it as he hears the button click on and a distant buzzing sound fills the film.
“Here,” he violently pulls his belt from his jeans, “wouldn’t want you to shatter those pearly whites.” This is the one command you will obey. You take the folded material between your teeth because if you do survive this you’d rather not waste your vacation bonus on orthodontics. And if you didn’t you at least would like to have a nice smile in the after life.
Morgan and Reid peel out of the town sirens ablazing. They try not concentrate on it as you scream around the hunk of brown leather between your teeth. Not matter how much he concentrates on the road ahead of him he count every bawl you let escape. Every time he makes a mental note. As he takes the exit that lead to the woods he sighs, seven. He pictures your sun shiny smile in the morning.
How you would skip over to his desk with an extra-sweet cup of coffee and a good joke you had heard on your weekend away to New York. Eight, he thought of how intently you had listened to him ramble about string theory on the plane ride over and how when he stopped himself to apologize you begged him to keep going.
Nine, when the case came around the table your eyes darkened with a bit of sorrow which was drowned by your hope and determination to crack it. Now you were ten, letting him practice brewing your hair in a motel just because the skill fascinated him. Man your hair was so soft and smelled to good. And you just melted under his hands as he apprehensively finger combed it.
The sanitarium is in the middle of the woods. A small commercial concrete building. There officers confirmed that there was a car out back and garcia checked the plate regitration was for a Charles Mcnamara. They quietly burst through the front doors which were ajar. Spencer lead the charge follwoing the sounds of your pained screams. He runs down a flight of staris and kicks it open. Despite his panic for his coworker Morgan was incredibly proud of Reid for kicking it open.
McNamara is straddled over you and he swings his head to see Reid. Before anything can happen Spencer shoots him in the knee and Morgan barks an order and jumps on the man. Reid bolsters his gun and darts over to you. You look a mess. Blood and possibly some other body substances on you. He slides the belt out of your mouth and you lick your lips. He sits by your side and undoes the buckles on your wrists
“Hi (Y/n),” He sighs soothingly. Your eyes are locked on his and there’s something animalistic and wounded in them.
“Spencer?” your voice is broken but there is so much hope
“Yeah I’m here,” He works the second buckle off your wrist. “You did so good.” he reassures. He undoes the strap across your chest and you sit up and rub your wrists. He takes a step back to unshackle your ankles. Once you’re free, you swing yor legs to the side of the medical chair. Spencer stands next to you and guides your arms arond his neck. You sink all your weight against his chest and he gently coaxes an arm under your knees and picks you up.
“I did good?” You start sobbing into his chest
“Yeah you did fantastic (Y/n). and your safe now, I’ve got you.”
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sayruq · 5 months
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covered-up-bondage · 6 months
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vvvvvivacious · 5 months
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favouritism
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sugas6thtooth · 4 months
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Torture. Pure Torture. It's absolutely painful to see and I can't imagine how they're feeling. It's torture and it's cruel and it warrants a scalding seat in hell for many israeli soldiers and government officials.
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An investment firm led by former Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper that is devoted to launching security companies in Israel has a new “success” story: helping that country’s military conduct secret mass surveillance of Palestinians in Gaza.
According to The New York Times, hundreds of Palestinians have been targeted by an “expansive and experimental” spying effort to “collect and catalogue” the faces of Palestinians. At times, civilians have been “wrongly flagged” as Hamas militants and then interrogated and tortured. [...]
Three out of five members of the Israeli company’s board of directors are Harper’s partners at Awz Ventures, meaning the former Canadian Prime Minister’s firm effectively controls Corsight.
Using Corsight’s spy tech, the Israeli military picked out Palestinian poet Mosab Abu Toha at a checkpoint in central Gaza in mid-November, as he was attempting to flee with his family to Egypt. He was separated, detained, and beaten. [...]
A former commander of this unit, retired Israeli Brigadier General Ehud Schneorson, is another of Harper’s advisory partners at Awz Ventures. According to a report in Israeli outlet +972 Magazine, Unit 8200 has also overseen an AI-based targeting system that has marked tens of thousands of Gazans for assassination. [...]
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid, @fairuzfan
Note from the poster @el-shab-hussein: The murder of tens of thousands of Palestinians, and possibly my own extended family members, wouldn't have been possible without the investment of Stephen Harper. It wouldn't have been possible without the settler colony known as "Canada" and its bloodthirsty genocidaires.
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whumpdaydreamerx · 2 months
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Whumper forcing Whumpee to swallow something, whether it be a sedative, poison, maybe even the key to their own chains.
Whumper’s hand covering their mouth so they can’t spit it back out. Whumpee’s half lidded eyes pleading with Whumper as they maintain eye contact. Throat taut and Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as they struggle.
Clamping their eyes shut as they finally give in and whatever it is makes its way down to their stomach.
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The broadcasts follow prison officials into detention centers to document the mistreatment of prisoners, which seems to be something that the officials — and apparently the viewers — find satisfying rather than revolting. The airing of these snuff films is a demonstration of societal sadism.  As Yumna Patel has recently reported, several rights groups have sounded the alarm over the widespread and systemic abuse that Palestinian prisoners face at the hands of the Israeli authorities. These groups’ calls have been unintentionally buttressed by Israeli soldiers’ unapologetic videos of themselves torturing or demeaning Palestinian detainees, which they boastfully post on social media. Now, it seems that the phenomenon has expanded to mainstream Israeli television. The two aforementioned reports on Channel 14 (threads with subtitles can be found here and here) contained footage of actual interrogation sessions during which torture was used. The Channel 13 report did not, but it exposed some of the worst prison conditions to be broadcast to the public. These conditions include forcing prisoners to live in inhumane conditions and subjecting them to torture and harassment.
[...]
“Here, we see the cells in which the Nukhba terrorists are held,” the narrator says. The “Nukhba” refers to elite Hamas-led fighters who carried out the October 7 attack. In the cell, viewers notice metal bunkbeds without mattresses, and instead of a toilet, there is just a hole in the floor. The room is almost completely dark throughout the day, and prisoners have their hands and legs chained together.  We hear attack dogs barking constantly as prisoners are made to kneel while bound and blindfolded, their heads touching the floor.  “This is how it should be,” a guard says. “This is how a Nukhba prisoner should be…what happened on October 7 will never return.”  In another scene, a guard shouts at prisoners as dogs continue to bark incessantly. “Heads down! Heads on the floor!” he yells.  “There are many prisoners here that I personally saw at the [October 7] events,” a prison official says, taking pride in humiliating them. “The difference is that this time, he is afraid, shaking, with his head on the floor…no Allahu Akbar, nothing. You won’t hear a squeak from him.” “They have no mattresses,” says a warden shift commander. “They have nothing…we control them 100% — their food, their shackling, their sleep…[we] show them we are the masters of the house.” Even without knowing the background to that phrase, to hear him say it is chilling.  “Masters of the house” was the election slogan of Itamar Ben-Gvir, the Jewish Power leader and current Minister of National Security. Ben-Gvir declared war on Palestinian prisoners long before October 7, and this has included shutting down bakeries that supply bread to prisoners — described by Ben-Gvir as an “indulgence” — and drastically limiting prisoners’ water use. So now it’s become much worse. 
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coldresolve · 7 months
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Astarions Agonies
Why WOULD you want to love someone after everything has been taken from you? Everything but your name. Everything but your name
Your sense of taste, the warmth of your skin, your own heartbeat. Your reflection in the mirror. Your home, your clothes, your friends, your family. Your history, memories, your life.
Stripped of all of this, left with only the ability to feel. Mentally. Physically. And then that, too, is broken. Because it cannot be taken, so it must be controlled.
Anyone you care for, murdered. And not just murdered, but you have to do it. You have to bring them to their death. Maybe you have to watch. So you protect yourself, you protect them- whoever they nay be, whoever they could have been. You cannot care. You cannot. The consequences are too high.
Your body, every touch you delight in is perverted by the same solemn end. How can you enjoy this, even as a distraction from the more violent touches you are forced to endure, when you are still being forced? You cannot choose the sweet, the kind, the gentle, for they meet the same fate as the cruel, the evil, the fools. Picking soft touches over harsh ones fades to picking at random, to grabbing whoever you can get. Because it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It all ends the same way.
And then there is the pain. The Punishments. At first, tastes of who you are- who you can be, are traded out; exchanged for physical torment and 'correction' of your behavior. But the punishments so hea ily outweigh the benefits of a snide remark, a night out too late, a prank, a room visited after being informed it is off limits. A victim you refused to hand over.
This life- no, this Un-death allows for a greater torment than any living person could survive. Hunger, thirst, pain, psychological abuse, sexual abuse. Never, ever ending. There is not a second in the day for two hundred years that you are not watched, used, handled, beaten, starved. Even in your rest there is no relief, for you cannot sleep but only enter reverie- a skill wherein your mind re-lives what you have been through, over and over.
So why would you choose to try to love someone? Why try to trust? Why, when you know what happens when you do?
Perhaps you've been allowed to believe you made it out before, only to have been captured and dragged back. Perhaps you've been allowed to believe a friend or a lover has escaped before, only to be called into a room and advised to clean up their corpse.
The only difference now is the sun on your skin.
The distance between you and that place.
The days, and days, and days that begin to pass with no retribution for your insolence, for your escape.
And these people, these idiots keep... not trying to kill you. Even when they find out what you are. One of them keeps looking at you like they might really care. You can use that, can't you?
Why would you love, when you could use their love to get your revenge?
But... in the wee hours of the morning, in the arms of a living, breathing person who has bedded you more than once and still is not gone forever, you think... maybe, maybe He didn't take it All from you.
Maybe even if he did, you could get it back.
Maybe you could love.
Maybe you could... try living, again.
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sayruq · 1 month
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jasmines-library · 7 months
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I'll Make This Up To You
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WHUMPTOBER DAY SIX: Prompt: made to watch
Summary: after being kidnapped by the joker, Jason is forced to watch you being tortured when you beg to take his place.
Warning: Blood, beating, gore, cursing, punctured lung.
Word count: 1.3k
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
Your entire body throbbed. Your wrists hung limply from rusty chains that dangled from the ceiling. Your bare toes struggled to relieve the burning that spread down your arms and into the sockets of your shoulders, but your bare toes only skimmed the floor, not providing you with a fraction of release. The groan, and clanging of the chains on the other side of the room, alerted you to the other presence in the room. He was still wearing his black suit with the red bat insignia printed across his chest. 
“Hood?” You murmured from across the room, trying to grab his attention. The boy groaned, bleary eyed before mumbling your name in response.
“Are you okay?” He asked, testing the strength of his chains albeit to find that he was firmly stuck. 
“Yeah” You nodded. “What happened? I don’t remember anything besides-”
A blinding light piercing through the darkness. Shattering glass, a scream. Then nothing.
“The crash.” Jason finished for you. 
You were about to speak again; to utter another string of words when you were silenced by a catatonic laughter. 
The Joker barged his way through the double doors to the room. They slammed loudly against the wall as pushed up his sleeves. Although Jason was still wearing his mask, you could sense the fear rising in his body. 
“Isn’t this nice?” He said, walking around the two of you. “My two favourite birdies all in one place.”
He smiled a toothy grin, his face too close to yours for comfort before whipping back around to Jason and wiggling his fingers. “How’s it hanging Little Robin? Did ya miss me?”
Jason tried to recoil from the man before him, but the chains only allowed him to swing feebly back and forth. This elicited another manic laugh from the Joker. 
“Now, I would say that I'm sorry to do this to you again, but that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?”
He ran his finger along Jason’s hooded jawline, before trailing his fingers down to his neck and to the hem of his mask which he tore from his face. 
“Hiya, Jaybird.” He said, giving him a wink. Jason stiffened at the nickname. “Oh how I missed this pretty face.”
“Fuck you.” He spat.
The Joker pulled back, placing a hand to his chest in mock hurt and cackling once more. “Your words wound me, Jason. Like father like son I see.”
The sound of an old, metal cart being pushed with a squeaky wheel by one of his goons filled the room. On top of it lay an assortment of weapons and tools, two of which you identified as yours. Another man tugged in an old camera.  “I think it’s time that we send the bat a message.” he trailed his fingers along the edge of the tray, before picking up a small knife and twirling it between his digits. “He needs to stop getting on my last nerve and you, my little birdy, need to learn to keep your mouth shut.”
His last sentence was exaggerated with a swing of his arm, which landed a well placed cut to Jason's cheek. 
“Hey!” You yelled, squirming against your restraints. “Get the fuck away from him!”
The suit-clad man spun around slowly, tilting his head and the knife towards you.
“Oh? The little bird has something to say. Tell me, Y/N,” He provoked as his goon removed your mask from your face. “What are you gonna do about it? What are you gonna do when I drive your very own knife through your beloved Jaybird’s heart? Hmm?”
“I told you to leave him alone.” You spat back in his face. 
The Joker's eyes turned dark as he narrowed them coldly at you. His grin dropped as he turned back around and slashed another line against Jason’s face. He groaned, eyes wide as he began to relive his past time with the man. You felt your heart clench, you couldn’t let him go through that. Not again, you couldn’t watch as he tried to fix himself. You couldn’t watch him suffer again. 
“Stop it!” You yelled at him, only for the other man to cover your mouth firmly with his hand. You fought hard, shouting until your voice went hoarse. “Please…hurt me instead.”
The man stopped, a shit eating grin exaggerated across his features. “Smile for the camera.”
~~~
Your head hung limply, chin resting on your chest. Blood trickled down your temple, oozed from your nose and clung to almost every inch of your skin. Inch deep cuts lay littered across your skin, along with a multitude of  The sound that left your mouth was barely a scream as he drove the knife into the flesh of your thigh. 
Jason had tried to keep from crying out; each yell or vulgar comment leaving you with another scar to add to your collection, or another fingernail ripped out from its bed, but he couldn’t bear to watch you suffer in place of him. It made his stomach twist into knots. He prayed that Tim would be able to hack the livestream that Joker was feeding to the cave and reach you before something fatal happened.
Jason squirmed in the chains. They clanked together loudly. “Leave her alone!”
The man tutted before you, turning away and leaving the knife lodged within the muscle.The vigilante was about to let out a sigh of relief when he watched the Joker's fingers dance over the various bloodied tools and towards the wooden bat. 
Before the dark-haired boy could make another sound, the bat was slammed into your ribs. You gasped, eyes flying open as you swung on the chains. You heaved a ragged gasp as he swung hard again, crying out as you felt your ribs shatter. You let out a haggard cough, tasting the copper on your tongue as blood coated your tongue and dribbled from your mouth. The rib had punctured a lung.  
The villain's laughter morphed with your and Jason’s shouting. The wooden bat clattered on the floor, but was soon replaced by Jason’s pistol. He cried out loudly.  “I hope you’re watching, Batsy.” Joker, picked up the camera, zooming in on your face. “I want you to see the light leave her eyes.”
“I’ll do you one better.” A voice sounded behind him.
Looking over his shoulder, the villain was greeted with the dark cowl of Batman’s suit. The taller man grabbed the villain, swinging him into the wall. The three other boys jumped into action, tackling the goons. Fueled with anger and determination, it didn’t take long before they were releasing you from the shackles that tugged agonisingly on your body. 
You landed in a heap on the floor, wheezing loudly as Jason collapsed to his knees beside you, fingers pressing harshly against your thigh. You whimpered. 
“I’m sorry. Stay with us, I'm sorry.”
“I’m fine- ” You tried to dismiss Jay’s worry. You didn’t want him to feel any guiltier than you knew he already did. Your head dizzied as you were hoisted into the air by a strong pair of arms. 
“I’m sorry.” He repeated it like a mantra. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
You shook your head. “Jay…this is not your fault.”
“But-”
You cut him off with another ragged cough, spilling more blood from your lips. He forced his legs to move further. 
“Not your fault.”
Instead of fighting back, he decided to pull you closer. “I’m gonna get you fixed up Y/N. I promise. I will make this up to you.”
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
<- DAY FIVE ⛤ DAY SEVEN ->
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