Superhero Interrogated

my hero academia oc whump commissioned by @everythingbaku

content warnings: torture, drugging, captivity, blood, very brief emeto mention

—

Waking is slow. Ren—bouncy, energetic, excitable Ren—is normally the first one up, rising with the sun while his husband grumbles about needing more sleep. Now, though, he feels sluggish and discombobulated, his eyelids impossibly heavy. Either he’s hungover from partying hard at a rager (unlikely, getting blackout drunk isn’t really his scene), or… something’s wrong with him.

Groaning, he cracks his eyes open. His vision is blurry, and the world is cast in black and white. Wincing, he turns his cheek away from the too-bright light, squinting at his surroundings. His tongue is dry, and he feels… off. It takes a moment for him to process the sensation, but when he does, his heart spikes.

He’s been drugged.

His awareness is quickly returning, and he realizes he’s not lying in his bed. No, he’s sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the wooden arms, his ankles tied to the legs. His neck aches from his head being tipped back for however long he was out. When he lifts his head, the room spins and makes him woozy. He slams his eyes shut and takes several deep breaths until the feeling passes. When he no longer feels faint, he opens his eyes again to assess his situation.

Ren has been kidnapped. That much is obvious. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, so maybe whoever captured him doesn’t know he’s a hero. He’s a shapeshifter, so stealth is his trademark, but his inability to alter the color of his eyes (violet) and his hair (steel blue) sometimes makes him easy to detect. He’s been wearing colored contacts and a baseball cap to compensate, but… hopefully his cover hasn’t been blown.

He looks around the small concrete room, empty except for the chair he’s tied to and the led-lights shining overhead. He’s facing the door. It’s made out of heavy metal and doesn’t have a handle. The room he’s trapped in is more of a cell, really, and definitely not some amatuer goon’s basement.

“Shit,” Ren whispers to himself. He’s really gotten himself into trouble this time. 

He perks up at the sound of footsteps, much more alert now. Someone’s just outside the door—multiple people, if his hearing is right. There’s the sound of multiple bolts being unlatched, and then the door swings open.

Three large, burly men shuffle into the cell, all of them wearing masks, effectively concealing their identities. They’re decked out in protective gear, and Ren notes the weapons strapped to their belts. They must be professionals. Ren swallows. 

“Oh, good, you’re up,” one of them says, “Thought you might’ve overdosed. Hard to figure out how much to give you since you’re so tiny.”

Ren doesn’t validate the remark with a reply. Yeah, they’re not wrong. He’s not even five feet tall, and it sucks, but he can’t exactly help it, can he?

The cell is quiet for a minute or so. They seem to be waiting for him to speak, but he isn’t going to risk revealing anything incriminating. Finally, the goon who entered the room first, the tallest of them all, crosses his arms, taking a step toward him. 

“Nekozawa,” he says slowly, and Ren stiffens. So they do know who he is. He changed his surname to Bakugou after he got married, but he and Katsuki have kept their relationship under wraps to avoid public outcry. Nekozawa is his father’s name and the name everyone knows him by.

He blows a strand of long blue hair out of his eyes. So much for undercover.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he replies snippily, tugging on his wrists to test his restraints. No give. It doesn’t look like he’s gonna be escaping anytime soon.

“You know who we are.” The man moves closer, lifting one booted foot and planting it on the space between his legs—not on his crotch but on the seat of the chair. Close enough to be intimidating (and probably a shitty political statement), but Ren isn’t easily cowed.

Sure, he can be gentle, caring, and loving. He has a soft spot for sweets and pastel t-shirts. His husband sometimes likens him to a kitten, simultaneously teasing and flirting with him. All of these things are true, but he’s still a superhero. He’s a badass, and he’s going to make sure these guys know it.

“Can’t say I do.” He shrugs in disinterest. “I don’t think I’d want to know you, anyway. You guys apparently don’t know a thing about hospitality.”

The man’s lip curls in distaste. “You have infiltrated our organization and have been collecting intel for months. You know more than we can allow.”

“When you say ‘we,’ you mean your bosses, right? If they’re so concerned, why don’t they come talk to me themselves?” Ren suggests. He doubts he’ll get the chance to land his eyes on the higher-ups of the criminal organization he’s currently trying to take down, but he might as well give it a shot, right?

Before Ren can blink, the man’s fist collides with his face. His head is whipped to the side, and he sucks in a breath as his punched cheek throbs in pain.

“Our superiors don’t have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man hisses, kicking the chair back. Ren falls hard, knocking the base of his skull on the floor. Stars dance across his eyes, and he groans, his head pounding. Fuck.

He must lose track of time for a moment because the next time he can see properly, his chair has been picked back up and he’s facing the goons once more.

“What do you want?” Ren asks gruffly. He’s not going to give them anything, not in a million years, but it might do him some good to figure out their agenda. They’re all so… composed, despite their violence. They’re clearly used to dealing with prisoners. No tricking them into letting him go, then. 

“You’re going to tell us what you know,” the man who punched him demands, “and who you work for.”

Ren rolls his eyes, and the goon steps forward, fist clenched.

“I work for myself, thank you very much,” Ren quips, “Oh, and I’m not telling you shit.”

The hit comes, but he’s expecting it this time. Still, the blow to his already bruised cheek hurts twice as much as the first punch did. Stifling a noise of pain, he drops his chin to his chest. The coppery taste of blood quickly fills his mouth, and his tongue aches. He must’ve bit it.

A hand grabs a fistful of his long hair and yanks, forcing him to look up. The goon’s expression is unreadable, hidden behind his mask. “Will you cooperate or not?”

Ren grins, flashing his blood-stained teeth. “What do you think?”

The man lets go of his hair and steps away. Ren tips his head back, breathing heavily through his nose. He’s not as tough as he likes to pretend to be. Those closest to him know he’s a brave fighter who’s willing to die to protect his loved ones, and he has a public reputation as an advocate for civil rights. Still, he isn’t exactly eager to sacrifice himself or get hurt in any way. Living is pretty sweet—so is not being tortured, but it looks like it’s a little late for that now.

There’s an audible shuffle of heavy footsteps as the goons exit his cell, and the coor creaks as it swings shut. With a sigh of relief, Ren looks up—and he’s greeted by the sight of one lone man. Not everyone left the room, it seems. It’s the guy who didn’t speak earlier. He’s standing too close to Ren, his hands clasped behind his back.

Without a second of hesitation, Ren spits at him. The bloody projectile only makes it far enough to land on his shirt, unfortunately. Ren was aiming for his face. 

The man doesn’t flinch.

“Cute,” he drawls, not even glancing down to examine the stain. “But you don’t have to pretend anymore, Ren Nekozawa. It’s just you and me now.”

Ren arches an eyebrow. “What, are you supposed to be good cop or something?”

The man chuckles, a hint of smile curling his lips. “I’m not good cop.”

Unease washes over Ren like an uncomfortable sprinkle of rain, damp and chilling. He tries not to let it show. “Bad cop, then? You gonna hit me some more?”

The man looks up at the ceiling as if talking to himself. “My associate was simply the prelude. Most people break from just the threat of violence. We figured you’d be a little less forthcoming, so I tagged along. I guess you could say I’m the main course.”

Ren pulls on his bound arms reflexively, just a little, and laughs humorlessly. “You gonna tear off my fingernails?”

“Maybe,” the man muses, “but probably not. I doubt you’ll need that much coaxing. You’re not as defiant as you pretend to be.”

Insulted, Ren scowls. “You don’t know me.”

The man nods in concession and begins to circle him like a shark. Ren doesn’t follow his path of travel, simply continuing to glare straight ahead.

“It’s true we’ve never met, but I know people, and you’re easy to read.” He cards a hand through Ren’s hair and twirls a blue strand with his finger. “You’re compensating for your size and apparent vulnerability. It must be difficult, being such a weak hero.”

Ren twists his neck around, dislodging the man’s grip, and tries to bite at his fingers. His teeth clamp around empty air, but his attempt does get the man to back off. Much to his dismay, the guy doesn’t appear threatened in the slightest.

“You’re not even good at using your powers. You stick out like a sore thumb with your height, your hair, and those eyes,” he continues, standing directly in front of Ren now. He plucks a small, thin knife from his belt. “So vibrant. I could help you, y’know. Cut them out, and you’ll be much less identifiable.” He positions the point of the blade just above his pupil, so close that Ren doesn’t even dare to breathe.

“Then again, a boy with two missing eyes might be hard to miss.” With a flick of his wrist, the man cuts a shallow line right underneath his eye. Ren gasps, gritting his teeth. Blood streams down his cheek like a river of tears. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses, trying to maintain his bravado. His heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and he’s gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He wishes Katsuki was here to protect him. So much for being a badass superhero.

The man hums, wiping the blood off the blade using the collar of Ren’s shirt. 

“There are two ways this can go,” he begins, retracting the knife and replacing it with a much larger one. Ren eyes the jagged blade warily. “You can drop the tough-guy façade and answer every question I ask you—”

“Fat fucking chance!” Ren interjects, snarling. The man raises one unimpressed brow. His mask only covers his eyes, leaving the rest of his face on display. Ren briefly wonders if his lack of concern for his identity is supposed to be an intimidation tactic. 

“Or,” the man continues, splaying one palm over Ren’s collarbones and pressing him flat against the chair’s back. With his other hand gripping the knife, he slashes down the front of Ren’s shirt, cutting open the fabric and the skin of his chest. Ren yelps. “I can make you talk.”

Panting, Ren looks down at the gash. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his sternum to his stomach. His insides churn at the sight. 

“So, Nekozawa,” he says amicably, as if he isn’t threatening to torture him, “What will it be?”

Ren squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The work he’s been doing for the past couple months is important. The criminal organization he’s been spying on is guilty of abhorrent crimes and needs to be brought to justice. He thinks of the victims, past, present, and future. He thinks of his fellow heroes, all of whom are undoubtedly braver than him. He thinks of Katsuki, the love of his life. Katsuki would never surrender.

Ren opens his eyes and shoots his interrogator a defiant grin. “I’m not talking. You can try and make me, but it won’t work.”

The man smiles, as if that’s the answer he wanted to hear. “We’ll see, Nekozawa. We’ll see.”

—

Four hours later, Ren cracks.

It’s the knife in his shoulder that finally does it. The man digs the blade past muscle, all the way to bone, and twists. Ren screams, tears flowing freely.

“Who do you work for, Ren?” the interrogator asks for the upteenth time, calm as ever.

“I, I told you, I work a—” Ren begins, but then the knife twists again, and he shrieks: “Ah, Deku! Deku!”

The blade stills. 

“I work, I don’t, I don’t report to anybody,” Ren continues, unbearably ashamed of himself for the name drop. He held out for hours only to break now. “We sometimes work together. He’s not my boss or anything.”

“Not good enough, Nekozawa,” the man sighs, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. Ren yells, his expression contorted in anguish. Yanking the blade out hurt almost as much as the initial stab.

Groaning, he slumps in his chair. His entire body is covered in cuts, some shallow and some deep. His pale skin is coated in sticky blood, and he emptied his stomach a while ago. Drenched in sweat, exhausted and dehydrated, Ren is pushed past his limits. He never thought he would surrender even the tiniest bit of information, but here he is, giving in like a coward. Fresh tears leak from his eyes.

The man sheaths his blade and takes Ren’s chin in hand. “Does Deku know of your current operation?”

Ren exhales shakily and lies: “No.”

Deku is an incredibly powerful superhero. He went to school with Ren’s husband, Katsuki, and they were rivals for some time. Deku is too well known for undercover work and is much more suited for direct attacks. He’s taken out several outposts after Ren gave him names and locations. They’re not working together directly, but they both know of the danger said criminal organization poses. 

The man’s nails dig into his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” He digs the thumb of his free hand into a deep gash in his side, and Ren’s mouth falls open in a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back. “Who else is involved?”

Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth from his bit tongue. “M’not… telling.”

The interrogator releases his chin and wraps his broad hand around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ren’s eyes fly open, and he struggles to breathe.

“I’ve been very patient,” the man begins, “And I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, but, frankly, it’s nothing I didn’t already know. Maybe I need to be more persuasive.”

Ren shakes his head a fraction of an inch, gaping like a fish out of water. He isn’t sure how much he can endure. He needs a break before he says something stupid. Black spots dance across his vision, and his lungs burn. Time passes impossibly long, and wet, sputtering gasps escape his lips. Eventually, just when he thinks he’s gonna pass out, the man releases his neck. Ren coughs, gulping down air, his vision blinded by tears. He feels so weak and pathetic. What kind of hero allows themselves to be caught and tortured? He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself after this. If there even is an after. He doesn’t see any chance of escape, and what if no one rescues him?

Ren clenches his fists and steadies his breathing. He can’t lose hope. Katsuki will come for him. If not Katsuki, someone else. He won’t be left here to die. He just needs to hold out and keep his mouth shut.

The man returns to his side with a syringe in hand. He cocks his head and looks down at him with a faux-sympathetic smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Here, I’ve got something that’ll help you take your mind off it—and hopefully loosen your tongue.”

“No, no,” Ren protests, squirming in his bonds. He tries to crane his neck away from the needle, but the man grabs his hair and holds him still. Ren whimpers as the drugs are injected into his system, falling limp almost instantly. Whatever the interrogator has given him works fast, and the room begins to swirl. 

“Better, right?”The man pats his cheek, patronizing. “Now, about the data you collected. Mind sharing some names with me?”

Nausea washes over him in waves, and he squints against the lights. The cell is suddenly way too bright, and he moans. A fog settles over him, and he has a hard time remaining focused on his goal.

“What… what?” he mumbles.

The interrogator hums, frowning. “Might’ve given you too much there. It’s hard to determine the correct dose. I’m not used to administering to persons of such short stature.”

Ren isn’t listening, his attention shifting. He’s in so much pain. He just wants to be home with his husband, safe in bed, wrapped in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to see Katsuki’s face right now. 

The room rocks, and the interrogator stumbles. At first, Ren thinks it’s the drugs screwing with his vision and playing tricks on him, but then it happens again.

“Explosions…?” the man whispers, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Ren barks a laugh. Explosions! He’d recognize the sound anywhere. Katsuki is here!

He smiles at the interrogator, eyes bright. “You’re so fucked.”

Bnha oc of mine. Her name is Nova and she basically has the power of Portal2 but more spacey. Though colors aren’t present, her hair is a gradient pastel pink to purple and her hair literally disappears at the end so no worries about split ends! Her aesthetic is mixture of pastel pinks, purples, and blues, but her fav color is pink.

Also did I mention shes really fucking gay? Like the gayest character I think I’ve ever made! She radiate that powerful lesbian energy.

Shimi does eventually get to approach the stuff he’s harboring with Nana, but not until their delightful adult hero arcs begin : ) which is a whole entirely new story you can look forwards to one day when i get around to it…probably

Open collab with @mictlantis_ on instagram! Ryoka gets excited to meet other reptile mutants~

Cankerblossom

Updated Shimi Ref finished~ Took me a bit to fix up his Hero suit redesign to where I was happy with it~ His season three suit is probably my fave tho, this is only his season 2 suit~

I made a MHA OC for fun..

No name or quirk yet but he’s a real sweetie :>

Dear Aki,

This may come off as weird, but these classes require you to write a letter to yourself to remind yourself why you wanted to become a knight for his Majesty. Apparently becoming a knight is a lot more than simply learning how to hold a sword properly. Anyway, where should I start?

Maybe I should start from the beginning? As you remembered, the humans abandoned us simply to please someone who never existed. I still don’t know if my mother gave me up willingly or not, not like it matters to us anymore, not since I saw the face of his Majesty.

Normally, a human would tremble at the mere image of the mighty creature known as the Orca, but when I saw him, I didn’t see him as this terrifying being. Instead I saw him as someone who wanted a companion, at least that’s what his Majesty has always told me.

Where the humans had failed, he provided; he gave me clothing, fed me the food of his world, gave me a bed to sleep on and taught me how to swim and hunt in his waters. He saw me as more than just a living thing; he saw me as his daughter, his pearl, his prized possession.

Ever since I had been renowned as the kingdom’s pearl, many attacks had become frequent to the Crimson Waters. Of course, the guards and his Majesty disguised it as a game of ‘Hide and Seek’ for me to keep me from getting scared, and I would buy it. I would always hide in my giant clam bed and wait for his Majesty to find me, and when he did, he always looked relieved to see me. At first, I thought it was because I hid in a good hiding spot, but it wasn’t until I was nine that I finally understood why he was relieved.

I was hiding in my usual spot when I heard the whirl of the water outside of my clam. At first, I thought it was his Majesty, but when I heard their voice, I knew it wasn’t the calming voice of his Majesty.

Her voice was filled with a lust for treasure, and her desire to find the Kingdom’s pearl was evident when she entered my room and knocked everything off the shelves and broke many of my favorite coral pieces.

I quickly shuffled further into my clam, hoping, praying, she doesn’t find me. That was my first mistake, because of my shuffling I had made some noise and caught her attention.

As the light started to peer into my clam, I shuffled back further so the light wouldn’t catch me, but that wasn’t going to make her go away; not when she knows something was inside. Even my attempts to keep the clam shut was in vain when I realized she was no mere intruder, she was an Octomaid! With the assist of her eight extra appendages she was able to counter my own strength and force the clam more open.

Suddenly the Octomaid’s hands and tentacles detached themselves from my clam, causing it to shut back up again. At first, I didn’t know why, but it wasn’t until I heard his Majesty’s voice that I started to understand why; she was averting her attention from me to focus on his Majesty! Once again, I remained silent in the clam, waiting for his Majesty to win against the intruder, what happened after that… I could never forget.

While I was sitting in the clam, all I heard was his Majesty and the Octomaid’s heavy breathing, their weapons clashing together and their collisions into multiple surfaces, including my clam bed. It took almost every fiber of my being to not squeak in horror as my clam rocked by their impact. It wasn’t until I heard the sound of metal hit the floor and the grunts of his Majesty that I opened my clam a tiny bit to see the Octomaid’s knife was in front of my clam, and when I looked up I saw the Octomaid had his Majesty in her grasps with her tentacles, his right eye cut from her knife and his sword out of his hand.

He was struggling, and somehow the Octomaid knew about the desperation he had and was somehow feeding off it. I even remember her saying that she would ‘take him’ before she killed him and claimed her prize. I didn’t understand what she meant by ‘take him’ back then, but now I knew. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn that she would do such a thing to his Majesty.

When she started breaking his armor and tear off his clothes was when I leapt into action. I grabbed the knife that was in front of me and ‘launched’ myself towards the Octomaid and stabbed her in the eye, even going so far as to twist it. I’ll never forget her screams of agony as I carved the knife deeper into her socket. Eventually I was pulled away from her face by her tentacles and collided with the wall. The knife that was in my hand managed to take out her eyeball and nicked me on the left side of my lip when I was launched across the room.

She was absolutely crossed with me, screaming and cussing my name for tearing her eye out, calling me a ‘brat’ and such. Once she recovered, she launched herself towards me and grabbed my throat, trying to suffocate me. Unknown to her, I wanted her attention on me; while she was distracted, his Majesty had recovered his sword and snuck behind her.

The next thing I knew, her grip on my neck had loosened and her remaining eye stared blankly at me as her life drifted away. Her blood floating into the waters of my room as her body, now split in two, floated up to the ceiling. My attention was soon diverted from her floating corpse to his Majesty; his armor half broken, and his clothes tattered from her destruction. He scooped me up into his arms and looked me over for any damage, despite having injuries worse than mine he prioritized my safety above his own.

It was this mentality that made me realize that despite being the most feared ruler of the seas, he cared about others more than himself. If he wasn’t careful, he could very well perish at the hands of the enemy. This realization made me want to stand by his Majesty’s side to protect him. Protect him from anyone who dare cause harm to him, protect him from all the foul women of this ocean who dare think of him as merely a tool for reproducing, but most importantly, to repay him for all that he’s done for me. Yes, he is the king of this kingdom and that as a knight I must protect him, but as a daughter, I must remember that he is my father first and foremost. Future Aki, please remember that, protect him not only as your king, but as your father.

                                                                                                                                               Sincerely, Aki

A friend on DA pointed out that Lilly looks a lot like her Mom, so I decided that I would draw a design of what Lilly would’ve looked like if she looked like her Dad. This was the result. Problem was was that this design was too cool to draw just once! So I decided this is what Lilly’s sister looks like!

Meet Rose Potts (keeping the flower theme going)! Rose is a no nonsense gal, wanting to make sure the work gets done right. There’s no point in being sloppy when you have a ‘do no harm’ policy even if she isn’t a doctor. I’ve yet to decide if she’s a pro hero or not, but all you all need to know is she’s a tall glass of water (Full height, 7'2).

Perhaps it’s the alcohol or he’s genuinely let go of all the bad things that happened in the past. Either way, Umi’s singing again and who knows, maybe he’ll do more than hero work in his future.

This was used in one of my latest tiktoks and I just loved how this shot was done so I decided to upload the picture.

Sooooo…. this happens later… >>

In his mid-20’s, Umi ran into a burning building to save the remaining people left inside. He managed to get the people out, but not without having repercussions on his body. With multiple patches of third degree burns and being severely dried out, Umi was rushed to the hospital where he really heard it from his sister (Aki).

Now Umi takes medicated baths three times a week to help with the patches. Despite the stares, he wears his burns with pride.

bnha ocs but smol + a Bakugou