#imprisonment tw

[nerdpoe]

Superboy wakes up in a prison. In the cell, sitting across from him, there's a teen that looks like another offshoot clone of Clark.

He learns in bits and pieces that he's been captures by a shadow government organization hellbent on ridding the world of anyone "ecto-contaminated", or anyone who has ever been dead.

Since he'd died before, even though he came back, he set off their sensors.

He doesn't remember how he got caught, doesn't remember what he was doing prior, but the walls are made of a weird material that glows green and cancels out his powers. It also doesn't hurt him.

Diluted kryptonite? He'll have to steal some and give it to Tim.

According to the kid, they've been forcibly detained to "serve their sentence for illegal immigration from the Realm of the Dead to the Realm of the Living" by way of routinely allowing themselves to be subjected to medical procedures. They are always being watched, they aren't the only ones captive, that apparently his entire high school had been condemned to it as well as some literal ghosts, and if he struggles then they won't give him the mercy of sedation while they do their experiments.

And Kon can't use his power to escape, or free this kid, or free any of the other prisoners. It's the worst case scenario.

Thank fuck he's best friends with a paranoid Bat that might have more contingencies than the Big Bat Himself.

Kon activates the only subdermal tracker he'd allowed Tim to place under his skin, and settles down to wait.

A prison of this design, but more high tech and with less privacy. Apparently the idea behind it was that you couldn't see the guards, but they could see you, and the lights would move at random to make you think they were paying attention all the time.

So psychological torture on top of imprisonment.

[callaeidae3]

Febuwhump2026 Day 19: "I didn't mean to."

I didn't do it. I didn't mean to... I didn't...

[morrigan-sims]

“I should have known that it was only a matter of time before she found me again. I’ll end up dead, or back in her hold. I can’t decide which is worse.”

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 26: Shivering

Another direct continuation of Day 10: Hypothermia, this time from the Whumper's POV.

For more shivering whump, check out Day 4: Chills.

TW: imprisonment, hypothermia, vulnerability, implied nudity, noncon undressing (nonsexual)

Whumper shoved Whumpee into the cell, not even bothering to secure their bonds before slamming the door shut and searching for dry clothing. Whumpee, in their hypothermic, shivering state, had barely reacted to the temperature change when they finally returned to Whumper’s lair. They would not attempt to escape. Not that they would get very far if they tried.

Finding what they were looking for, Whumper returned to Whumpee’s cell. Whumpee had not moved an inch in the moments they'd been gone, instead curling up into a pathetic shaking ball. Whumper regarded them for a few long moments, arms full of clothes, towels, and blankets.

Whumpee’s lips had turned purple. On the trek back from the lake, their wet hair had iced over in a matted clump that, starting to melt, was dripping water all over the cell floor. Their body wasn't shivering so much as spasming as their muscles tried desperately to keep them warm.

Whumper could leave them like this. Alone, soaked to the skin in icy water, Whumpee would surely freeze to death before sunrise, even in the slightly warmer confines of the cell. Whumper could walk away and put all the dry things back in their places. They would still serve as a fine example for the others.

Nothing would stop them. 

No one would dare question what had happened. Whumper’s underlings were being paid not to ask questions, and the other prisoners would be too beaten down, too terrified by Whumpee’s tragic death, to speak against Whumper.

Whumper sighed through their nose. Death would be far too merciful for Whumpee. No, they would serve as a living reminder of what Whumper was capable of. The memory of the frozen lake would suffice to keep them in line.

Dropping the mess of clothing, towels, and blankets in a heap in the corner, Whumper crouched down beside Whumpee, careful not to get their pants wet in the puddle forming beneath them. Slowly, methodically, Whumper pulled untied the ropes around Whumpee’s wrists and began to strip off the soaked garments.

Whumpee whimpered, teeth chattering uncontrollably, and tried to recoil, but they were too weak from the ordeal in the icy water. “If you don't get out of these clothes,” Whumper hissed, tugging Whumpee’s shirt over their head, “you will die a very unpleasant death.”

“R—r—r—r—ra—-ra—rath—”

Whumper smirked as Whumpee struggled to form words. “Rather what? Rather die? No… I think not.”

Dropping the shirt to the floor, Whumper continued removing Whumpee’s clothing until it all lay in a pile at their feet, a soaking wet and naked Whumpee curled up next to it. Rummaging through the heap in the corner, Whumper found the towels and carefully began to pat Whumpee dry, reveling in how they cringed and flinched away.

Not another word was spoken, but the dark look on Whumpee’s face as Whumper finished dressing them in the set of clean clothing brought Whumper more amusement than harsh words ever could. New ropes went around Whumpee’s wrists and ankles; and Whumper even generously allowed Whumpee to keep a blanket, as their hair was still damp, their lips still purple.

Gathering Whumpee’s old clothes and the now-wet towels, Whumper left the cell and locked it behind them. Fabric rustled, and Whumper glanced back just in time to see the blanket hit the bars and fall to the ground. Whumper blinked, looking from the fallen blanket to Whumpee, who crouched in the corner of the cell, glaring at Whumpee with such malevolence Whumper could almost taste it.

Whumper inhaled sharply. How dare they—!

They closed their eyes and exhaled. When they reopened their eyes, Whumper worked their face into an expression of simple annoyance and disappointment, a clear contrast from the bubbling rage that made their fingers curl into fists and tightened their jaw. Stooping, Whumper pulled the blanket through the bars and added it to the top of the bundle in their arms.

Whumper did not spare Whumpee another glance as they left, no matter how much they wanted to drop everything and show Whumpee exactly how the consequences of their actions would affect them. As Whumper continued down the hallway, they congratulated themselves on their restraint. Whumpee would see their punishment in due time.

All in due time.

[chrismerle]

Jumperverse: Anomaly 000

Class Alpha Anomaly 000, contained in 1859, "Adam," "the warlock" Type: Humanoid male Anomalous Properties: Severe reality warping capabilities, teleportation, and self healing capabilities that make Anomaly 000 nigh invulnerable. Containment: Anomaly 000 cannot access other abilities while engaged in self-healing. Anomaly 000 is to be kept in a windowless approximately 2m x 2m room, and Anomaly 000's arms are to be kept submerged in powerful acid at all times, keeping the self-healing abilities engaged perpetually, rendering all other abilities null. Removal from the cell is to be done only in the most drastic of cases, and only if relocation can be done within a span of 72 hours. After 72 hours, regeneration will have been sufficient for Anomaly 000 to begin accessing other abilities.

Gryphon has never actually seen 000. He's never been part of her rotation; she usually deals with plant anomalies, and she's content to keep it that way. But she is on the lowest level sometimes, and she sees people going into 000's cell sometimes.

("He needed a top up," Silas had joked once, spotting Gryphon leaving monitor duty as he stepped out of 000's cell.

Gryphon could see 000's silhouette through the slightly ajar door, but nothing else, before Silas closed the door. He cleared his throat awkwardly when Gryphon didn't respond before he carried on his way.)

She's tracking an instance of 321 with Kevlin today, following it as it toddles down the hall on its roots. She pauses as she sees Hammond leave 000's cell. It's rare for him to be doing it; Silas must still be on vacation.

Hammond nods in greeting before heading down the hall toward the elevators, and Gryphon continues following Kevlin and 321 as it steadily makes its way to the monitor room.

"Sounds a bit barbaric, don't you think?" she asks after a moment, her voice nearly startling even herself in the quiet. When Kevlin glances at her, she jerks her chin toward 000's cell.

"How does that sot of containment method even occur to someone?" She can't help but wrinkle her nose.

Kevlin shrugs, barely paying attention to her as he watches 321 try to scrabble its way under the door.

"Trial and error?" he suggests dryly.

Gryphon rolls her eyes into a scowl at the side of his head.

"It just seems a little cruel, is all," she replies, and Kevlin snorts. She gets it, though. No one in the Bureau has deluded themselves into thinking 000's containment method was kind when it has only ever been necessary.

"If he ever gets out, he's going to hate us all." She laughs before she can help it. "We don't stand a fucking chance."

"If the warlock gets out, him wanting us all dead will be the least of our worries," Kevlin replies, impassive. 321 is still trying steadily to get under the door.

"He could end the world if he wanted to," he continues, and his voice turns also thoughtful as he muses, "I'm not sure it would even take any effort."

"Do you think he actually would, though?" Gryphon asks, curiosity overtaking her concern.

Kevlin thinks that over for a second before he answers.

"Get someone mad enough, and you have to assume eventually they'll use the full extent of their abilities," he settles on.

It's a bit of a non-answer--an elaborate 'who knows?' and Gryphon suspects Kevlin is just as aware of that as she is--but she supposes she's never actually going to get a perfect answer. 000 has been contained long enough that anyone who had actually spoken with him is long dead (or at least anyone within the Bureau, at any rate; they've all heard the rumors about the demon).

Besides, it's not as if the Bureau is in the business of asking 'but what if they're nice?' Even the nicest people have breaking points.

At last, 321's timer runs out, and it gives up on the door, turns, and starts heading back the way it came from. Kevlin grumbles under his breath about it being a waste of a walk, but they both follow 321 dutifully once again.

"You plan on opening the door?" Kevlin asks as they pass 000's cell again. He snorts when Gryphon smacks his arm.

"No?" he guesses. "Then I don't think we have to worry about meeting him any time soon."

Gryphon spares the cell door one last glance before following Kevlin and 321 back onto the elevator.

enjoy my noodling? maybe buy me a Ko-fi. monthly subscriptions are enabled, or you can just throw some pocket change. anything is appreciated. there's a link in my pinned post.

[kaliofruin]

who: @dearestdarkling where: no man's land.

Just a little over one year ago...

Kali steps lightly through the underbelly of No Man's Land, where the ring above thunders with its usual chorus of violence: fists colliding, jaws cracking, crowds howling for more blood. There's the swish of her pleats, fabric against skin, heels against concrete, and the gentle footsteps of a silent figure following her.

She hands the files tucked against her side to the nameless man, who offers a grunt in acknowledgement, and they stop before the reinforced door. There's no guards. No need. The girl inside isn't going anywhere.

Inside, a dim room, lit by a single, flickering light bulb. There on the ground, shackled in chains anchored to the wall, is the young girl who'd been dragged here days ago, sold out by her own father. What a sick man. Funny thing is, Kali has been there, too. Just a different hemisphere, a different time, a different cog in the system so much greater than her.

Kali crosses the room, crouches down in front of Eleanor. She slides her shades up to get a better look at the girl, whistles low as she assesses her the way a jeweler might inspect a flawed stone. She looks worse than reported. Sallow. Blood-starved. Dried streaks down her face from tears or rain, it doesn't matter. Her chains clink when she moves, and it's as familiar a sound to Kali as her own breath.

"Hello, Eleanor." There's warmth in her tone. But nothing about her expression says this is a rescue. "I'm Kali," and she holds a hand up over her shoulder. The man behind her places a small key in her palm. She closes her fist around it with a soft, pitying sigh, then turns her full attention to Eleanor. "Do you know what you're doing here?"

[hmshermitcraft]

Blazeborn Tango + Dwarf Impulse for the autumn theme?

Blazeborns are revered in dwarven culture. It's them that keep the lights bright, despite their depth below the earth. Impulse uses their flames daily in his forge, so he has great respect for the beings.

Which is why it's so surprising when he comes across one during the Fall Fair.

Seasons don't exist underground, but dwarves always find a reason to celebrate. The streets are full of stands selling food and goods, people wear their best clothes and every corner is full of music.

Blazeborns are often the centre of attention, so Impulse nearly does a double take seeing one tucked in the corner, blending into the shadows with a big cloak. Impulse can only tell he's a blazeborn by the tail that's escaped the fabric, flicking loose and leaving shimmers of fire in the air.

Impulse should leave him alone. It's clear the blazeborn is trying to avoid attention. But he also looks sad, and Impulse can't walk past someone in need without at least offering to help.

Impulse says hi, and the blazeborn jumps nearly two feet into the air.

His name is Tango, and he just escaped from someone using his flame.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

also the other night i had a dream where like. y’know how people do like enchantment tattoos in minecraft roleplay fic right? and y’know my headcanon that enchantment is basically literally rewriting reality?

protegeinnit who's covered in so much enchantment tattoos that his whole body is covered in tiny tunes so small they look like indiscernible markings bc c!dream was playing rules lawyer with the universe and minmaxxing like hell to get as much control over his brainwashed pawn bestie

i remember specifically in the dream he could like, mess with all of c!tommy's senses, both sort of scan his thoughts and communicate telepathically with him, lock up his body (though not downright puppet it he can just basically make him collapse) and also could like block him from saying certain things. so he was in the prison and basically everyone thought he'd just completely broke into a shell of himself bc he’s silent, barely eats, barely takes care of himself, doesn’t even notice when he’s hurt, but that’s bc he's constantly bugging c!tommy bc he’s bored and it’s allowed him to reach a brand new stage of disassociation to the real world when he's just messing around with elaborate magic he really should not be doing that with. bro was in a permanent discord chat with c!tommy except in his brain. like the ps5 in the hit song it’s me boy i'm the ps5.

anyway c!tommy looked cool but also c!dream was just chilling in the background of his thoughts 24/7 constantly nagging him like a mother hen and also using a combination of severe mental and physical trauma (bc like, he can make c!tommy see or feel or whatever anything if he wants) and pavlovian conditioning to force him to act as a spy but he also is being a helicopter parent despite not even being a parent too. (he argues he’s c!tommy's legal guardian so it’s actually his legal duty to do it. please ignore the fact he’s in jail.)