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arctrooper69 · 3 months

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Dark is the Night

Imperial!Crosshair x Reader

Febuwhump Prompt #2: Solitary Confinement

(sorry I'm behind on these already) @febuwhump

Warnings: Sensory deprivation and claustrophobia

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It was dark, that much you knew. Dark, cold, and silent.

"Tech!?" You called out, "Hunter? Wrecker? Anybody!?"

Not even an echo of your own brittle and broken voice made it back to your ears. The pleas fell flat and muffled like the room was designed to trap any sound - mute every scream.

You weren't sure how long you'd been here, bound to a chair in the middle of nowhere - a room? A hallway? A cell?

Maybe it had only been minutes. Maybe hours. Maybe days. It was impossible to tell.

It felt like years.

The walls seemed to shrink inwards as you struggled to breathe. It made it hard to think when the darkness threatened to smother you with the terror of nothingness. You would almost prefer physical torture over this.

A door slid open with a hiss and the darkness withdrew it's claws only to be replaced with the assaulting daggers of ruthlessly bright artificial light.

"Ready to talk so soon?" Sneered that deep gravelly voice you used to know so well.

Crosshair.

He seemed to appear as a shadow - void and empty as if consuming all the light in the room like a black hole. Impossibly nothing. But it wasn't fear that wrapped it's cold fingers around your chest now, it was the heavy fist of heartbreak.

"Crosshair please..." The fragility of those words slipping through ruined vocal chords surprised you.

Whatever happened to fighting interrogation with silence? You'd had enough of silence.

"Funny," He paused, watching you curiously, "I would've put my credits on you lasting longer than this."

It was funny. Funny how much his voice brought you comfort despite the insults he spewed. Funny how much you craved his attention despite the horrors he'd committed.

Funny how your heart still ached for him.

"Tell me the location of Clone Force 99 and I'll have you moved to a different cell."

Something about his voice seemed less threatening than before. Less intense. The light still burnt your eyes to tears, but somehow his lean form was coolant.

"I... I can't. You know I can't, Crosshair. I'm sorry."

A pause, punctuated with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry too."

The light shut off and once again, darkness closed in.

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@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @temmiegailg @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898

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simpforchuchu · 3 months

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Stay by my side

Prompts: DAY 2 - solitary confinement @febuwhump Characters: Chuuya x reader Fandom: BSD Summary: He found his lover in a dungeon…

A/n for prompts: Hello guys! This is my first time trying a prompt challenge. I hope you like the short fics I wrote. I will finish them by writing some of the requests I have. I love you 💜

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: mention of fights, torture, blood and killing…

The young mafia executive ignored his rapidly beating heart. Fear took over his entire body. He killed all his enemies in the building, and his men were taking care of the rest. He was searching for the most valuable person in his life.

He was sure that he had checked all the floors and looked behind every door. But he couldn't find y/n anywhere. He was about to cry. He wanted to scream in fear, but he couldn't. He seemed speechless.

He quickly went down to the ground floor and headed for the door. But as he was running, he noticed an area on the ground making a strange noise and stopped.

It was as he expected. There was a secret door. He lifted the lid and noticed the stairs leading down to the basement.

He shouted as he descended the stairs in fear.

“Y/n! Can you hear me ? Y/n, baby if you are here please give a shout!”

The young man opened his eyes with fear when he saw the dungeons in the basement. All dungeons were empty. He walked quickly to the end of the corridor and saw one of them’s door was closed.

The door was not locked. He opened the door and saw that someone was hanging on chains from the ceiling of the dungeon. He shouted to the men coming behind him.

“Turn on the hallway lights, now!”

After a few seconds, the lights turned on and Chuuya shouted in fear.

“Y/n!”

Her lover was hanging by a chain. He ran inside and examined the young woman. Her face was bloody, it was obvious that they tortured her.

He wanted to scream, cry, blow this place up. But first he had to take her home.

It wasn't hard to break the chains. He gently took the young woman in his arms and quickly took her out of this dark dungeon.

When they got out, he took her to the car and ordered the driver to drive.

His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the bloody face of the woman in his arms.

“I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. This happened because of me."

He caressed the young woman's face in fear. He hugged her gently and kissed her hair.

“I promise you, they will suffer much more than the pain they caused you.”

Chuuya had fire in his eyes. The feeling of revenge was so strong that he did not notice the young woman waking up. Y/n slowly reached out and caressed the young man's face.

“I just want you to stay by my side.” She whispered.

Although Chuuya was startled by the young woman's fingers touching his face, he softened with her words. Because he didn't want her to be afraid anymore, he kissed her palm and whispered.

“I'm not leaving you and going anywhere. Don't worry my love.”

#bungoustraydogs #chuuya fic #chuuya x reader #chuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya x reader #febuwhump #febuwhumpday2 #febuwhump 2024

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kabie-whump · 3 months

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♡ Febuwhump Day 2: Solitary Confinement ♡

@febuwhump

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Solitary confinement is fun and cool when Whumpee has absolutely no access to the outside world but consider this: Whumpee can see everyone else going about their lives and is still completely alone.

Maybe they’re in a cage, hanging above Whumper’s lair. Peeking through the bars, they can see Wumper moving about below them. At first, they are grateful for the lack of attention from their torturer. Anything is better than being hurt again.

But as time goes on the loneliness starts to get to them. Whumpee watches Whumper constantly, praying for any glance upward; any indication that Whumper was thinking about them.

They yell through the gag in their mouth. Nothing. They bang their head against the bars. Nothing. Tears fall without permission every time Whumper walks by and their eyes don’t even flick in the direction of the hanging cage.

Did Whumper forget about them?

Whumpee would take any punishment just for the proof that someone knows they exist.

When Whumper finally lets Whumpee out and subjects them to a brutal beating, Whumpee smiles through it and finishes it with a weakened “Thank you.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

#whump #whump tropes #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #febuwhump #febuwhump day 2 #febuwhumpday2 #solitary confinement #whump scenario #whump ideas #whumpee #whump prompt #whumper #whumperflies #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 3 months

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Day 2 -- Solitary Confinement

Modern AU where young Wild is a feral forest child, raised by Wolf Twilight. He is captured, separated from Twilight, and put under observation. Confusion, claustrophobia, loneliness.

Wild missed the Wolf.

Well, he missed a lot of things. He missed his own clothes—his cloak, soft blue tunic and khaki trousers, even his shoes—which had been taken from him and replaced with a scratchy, backless gown that seemed to slip off his shoulders every time he dared to move. Even his hair tie was gone, and his long blond hair hung loose around his face. He missed the forest he’d lived in ever since that portal had snatched him up and dropped him in a world he didn’t recognize. He missed his cave that he called home and shared with the Wolf, and he missed the little trinkets the Wolf had brought to him he kept on the shelf next to his bed—his sketchbook, his few pencils, his stuffed replica of Wolf that he slept with every night that Wolf was away. He missed the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees and the birds singing from their branches and leaves rustling beneath his feet on the forest floor. He missed the sky, bright and blue above him.

It was all replaced with silence and this dim white room. Eerily steady lights hummed and flickered overhead, making his ears ring; the cold tile floor nipped at his toes anytime he ventured from the low bed in the corner of the room; the white walls burned themselves into his vision; the air itself, stale and heavy, weighed heavily against his chest with each inhale and exhale; and the one-way mirror on the opposite side of the room antagonized him worse than anything else, taunting him with his own bedraggled reflection.

Wild glared at that mirror, loathing it with all of his being. He imagined driving his fist through it and shattering it to pieces. He focused on a section of the glass, and he hoped that he was managing to stare down whoever was behind it, though he couldn’t tell. Those people hiding behind its shield—people with rounded ears and blinding lights in their hands and rough voices, that talked in a language that he didn’t understand—had been the ones that brought him here. That kidnapped him.

Wild hugged his knees close, curling smaller into himself where he sat on this unfamiliar bed, wedged in the corner of the white, sterile room. Even the bed itself was an odd thing, with dark blue covers covered in cartoonish shapes and the walls around it surrounded by faded, peeling stickers of stars and rainbows as far as one could reach. He thought it might have been meant to brighten up the atmosphere of the room, but the odd splashes of color clashed horribly with the white of the rest of the room, and it only made him all the more anxious.

Guilt and fear waged a battle in Wild’s chest. It was all of his fault that he’d been kidnapped by these strangers, he knew. The Wolf had warned him, with sharp nudges and low growls, from getting too close to the people of this world. People with rounded ears and language and machines outside of his comprehension, similar to the Divine Beasts, but also so different. They’d had a few close encounters—each time, Wolf had signaled for Wild to hide and driven the interlopers away with his fierce stature and glowing blue eyes—and afterwards, Wolf would move them deeper into the forest. He would drive it in, with his expressive glances and exasperated huffs, that these people were to be avoided, at all costs.

In his curiosity, Wild hadn’t listened to the warning. Last night—had it been last night? There was no sun by which to tell the time within here—he’d snuck away from the Wolf to explore one of those nearby villages, with its bright lights and tall buildings and roaring machines.

He’d only meant to have a little expedition, not even crossing the hard roads that crisscrossed the thinner parts of the forest. He’d only wanted a glimpse. But they spotted him, and before he could get his wits about him, he was surrounded. A group of them—all older than him, stronger than him—had run him down through the forest, cornered him against a natural cliff, caught him and wrestled him inside of one of their roaring beasts even as he kicked and screamed, crying out for the Wolf to save him all the while. He’d been too far from home by then, and the Wolf hadn’t heard.

Something had stabbed into his neck, an unnatural sleepiness had overcome him, and he’d woken up here, under the thin covers of that bed in the corner of the room.

Completely alone.

Wild wondered if the Wolf knew where he was. If he knew that he’d even been taken. Perhaps the Wolf was sitting at home, his head on his paws, as he wondered when Wild would get home to cook dinner from whatever he’d hunted during the day. Maybe it hadn’t been long enough, and he didn’t even know that anything was wrong. Wild’s heart clenched at the idea, and he turned his mind away from it, towards action.

Wild knew, rationally, that he had to escape and get back to the Wolf on his own, somehow. But he’d run through the scenarios a thousand times, and there was nothing in the room to help him get out. The door that trapped him here was thick and windowless, its handle stiff and guarded by some glowing square that the strangers hit little buttons on to open and close. He’d already crept over to it, and despite how much he fiddled with the contraption, it only flashed red and beeped at him unrelentingly. Both chairs in the room, as well as the metal table around which they sat, were bolted firmly to the floor, so he couldn’t use their edges to break that cursed window. The flap in the door through which they delivered food—which he had ignored earlier that day—was too small for Wolf to fit his muzzle through, nevermind for Wild himself to shimmy his way out.

And besides, those strangers were still watching him through that window. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there, observing his every move. It made his hair stand on end, to know that they could see him while he couldn’t see them in return.

And suddenly, frustration and anger seized Wild so fiercely that he was shooting to his feet and crossing to the one-way mirror before he even realized he’d moved.

“Let me out! Let me out of here!” he demanded in a yell. His reflection shouted back at him, wild-eyed and pale, its shoulders drawn up in defensive anger. He banged his fist against the glass, and it bowed slightly underneath the weight of his blow, but it didn’t break. “What do you want? Who are you people? Where am I? Where’s Wolf? What’s going on? I want to go home!”

There was a cup on the table, it had been there since he arrived. It was filled with some syrupy, sweet smelling liquid that Wild was sure was poison. In an instant, Wild had snatched up the cup and thrown it at the mirror. It bounced off of the glass with a brilliant spatter, then rolled along the floor, emptying the rest of its contents in a wide arc across the sterile white tiles.

“What’s going on? Where’s Wolf! I want to go home!” Wild’s voice rose to a hysterical shriek. “Let me out! I want to go home!”

Wild’s chest heaved with fury as he glared down the mirror, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared in animalistic anger. The mirror, as always, gave him no response.

And suddenly, the room seemed to be growing smaller, and the air thinner. This was it, the walls would close in and the ceiling would lower until he was crushed into a little tiny box. The room would run out of air, and he would suffocate. He’d be trapped here forever until he died, and he’d never escape those eyes that he couldn’t see, and he’d never find Wolf again.

Wild stumbled away from that cursed mirror, choking on air. He had to get away from those eyes, to get away from the white walls so that he could breathe . But how could he hide, when there was no way to escape this room? Somehow, he found his way back to that bed in the corner of the room, and a semblance of an idea managed to rise from the panic consuming his mind.

Wild threw himself underneath the bed, dragging down the covers of the bed to the floor like a curtain to hide himself, and wedged himself into the far corner of the small space. With the eyes finally off of him, his breathing eased, but not by a lot. He hugged his arms around himself, breathing in and out with a count of eight just like Wolf had taught him.

He longed for Wolf so much that it brought tears to his eyes. Wolf would have curled up next to him underneath this bed, poking him with his cold, wet nose until Wild uncurled and buried his face in his thick fur instead. He would’ve walked him out of here and taken him home, where his surroundings had color and sound and natural light, where he wasn’t watched and where things made sense. Instead, he was here all alone, and it was all his fault.

Hylia, he missed Wolf.

Visit me on ao3! Day 2 -- Solitary Confinement

Yeah so basically this is an AU i've been sitting on for a few years that's like Pete's Dragon but instead it's Wild's Wolf and also he gets taken to freaking Area 61 because he's from another world and got those long elf ears. Listen, I don't really have this thing fleshed out. Anyways let me know what you think :D

First Chapter >> Next Chapter

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #wild linked universe #lu wild #wild lu #twilight linked universe #tbf he isn't really here #but he's mentioned a lot #also he's a wolf not actually a person #haven't decided if he can transform or if wild knows if he can #i am in awe of all you modern au people #linked universe au #cheetowrites #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday2

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flowersfromwind · 3 months

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Febuwhump - Day 2

(still day 2 in my country, lol) Day 2: Solitary Confinement

Tetra walked aimlessly, searching for something or someone to keep her sane. It had been a while since that old guy - King? Boat? - disappeared with the boy, probably to guide him through the sea, while she herself needed a guide too. The deafening silence followed her through the white corridors. There was no sound of the sea. There was no sound of wind. Only her. Only her and the noise of her footsteps, echoing in search of another listener. Before long, her mind started playing tricks on her. Her vision, quick and sharp, became a source of paranoia. Her ears, accustomed to extreme, brought her on alert at the slightest noise. A dull joke for the entertainment, not hers but anyone else's. Her body faithfully followed the path. And soon, the seconds turned into minutes, the minutes turned into hours. Hours that were uncertain until night finally appeared, bringing the familiar darkness with a single statement: the world above continued without her.

#my art #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday2 #the legend of zelda #wind waker #wind waker tetra #loz tetra #tloz #loz

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lamaenthel · 3 months

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Solitary Confinement

[read on ao3][Febuwhump prompt: Solitary Confinement]

After being captured alongside General Kenobi by the Seppies, Cody holds out hope that rescue will arrive in time.

Characters: CC-2224|Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano Word count: 1575

The cell is damp and near-freezing. With Cody's vision robbed by whatever contraption they'd bolted over his eyes, his other senses have sharpened. He has to be careful not to breathe with his mouth open. The smell of rot and open sewage had him gagging when they first dragged him into the stronghold. He's gotten used to it. Mostly. It's only gotten stronger in the last few days.

Soft tapping from the other side of the room is the only point of contact he has with General Kenobi.

"Take heart, Cody. The beacon was launched before we were captured. I don't expect we'll be here long." General Kenobi gives him one last encouraging smile from the floor, his wrists chained above his head, before the clankers bring out the drill and start attaching the metal blinder to his temples. "This should be entertaining at least, my dear."

Their chains give them just enough leeway to stand, though if they do it more than a few times an hour they're shocked into unconsciousness. It happens if they speak, too, which seems idiotic as the Seppies would have a better chance of overhearing something than extracting it. He marks the days by torture sessions; by his best estimate, there's a full rotation between visits. The chains hum and go warm with promised electricity. The door opens and one of them is dragged out of their cell for uncountable minutes to be interrogated.

Cody much prefers being strapped down to the table over his General. At least he knows what's going on when a droid asks him for GAR secrets in a monotone buzz, right before the needles go into his neck and what feels like acid fills his veins. Its agony, but they'd started training him to withstand torture at five. At least when they're torturing him he can breathe.

The waiting is the worst. Those dreadful seconds when metal footsteps approach them and he doesn't know who they'll choose are worse than anything they can inject him with. General Kenobi has no such training, just his strength of will, and while it's indomitable, Cody knows it will give out eventually.

Maybe that's why they haven't taken him for three days. Kenobi taps on his chains every few minutes so Cody knows he's still alive, but he can't hear the reassuring sound of his Jedi breathing over his heart's own drumbeat pounding in his ears. There's nothing else to hear in the gluttonous, bloated silence.

He's dehydrated. Water wasn't provided—deemed unnecessary when every day the droids held his head under a steady stream of it until he passed out—but they haven't been fed since they arrived. Not food, anyway, just leathery balls of surprisingly sweet jelly during their torture sessions. They get angry when he chews them, so he keeps doing it, figuring it's the right call. His stomach cramps violently, squeezing acid up into his throat and eroding delicate tissue. His body is starting to cannibalize itself. Every torture session leaves him weaker, but it doesn't matter. He will survive, force his heart to keep pumping blood even when every other bit of him wastes away, because that's what he was made for. He's a Marshall Commander to a High General, not some wet-behind-his-ears shiny who's never known a night without Kamino's thunder. He knows how to withstand any torture, no matter how brutal.

Kenobi taps again. Cody taps back. It's all they can manage. It's enough to keep going.

Take heart, Cody.

He will. He'll let them rip him up from the inside out if that's what it takes, but he will not lose hope. Not if his General still needs him.

He feels the hum of electricity in his teeth right before his chains warm and come alive again. He steels himself. Any moment the door will open. They'll drag him off again to ask the same questions that he won't answer, flay him like a nerf left to rot in the sun, then throw him back in his cell once they deem it to be another wasted day.

The door doesn't open. Instead, the chains go cold. Cody frowns; that's never happened before. The floor vibrates, and he's thrown violently to the side with the force of an explosion somewhere below them. The rushing roar of blood in his ears intensifies. "General Kenobi?" he whispers, taking a chance that their captors are occupied with whatever the hell that was. He can't speak properly anyway. Between the screaming and the stomach acid, his voice is virtually gone. "Can you hear me, General?"

Kenobi taps again, unwilling to risk it. Cody accidentally sucks a deep breath in, gagging from the stench of rot. It's all he can do to not vomit, even though he doesn't have anything to bring up except acid. He ignores the burning in his throat. DC-17 carbine fire echos through the vents, a song as reassuring as a mother's lullaby to a clone trooper. "They're here, General," he says, adrenaline jumpstarting his weak heart. "We did it." We survived.

Kenobi taps again.

Waiting for his brothers to find them is more painful than anything their captors have put him through. He can hear boots thumping, blaster fire getting closer, the hum of a swinging lightsaber. He twitches in his chains, weak muscles begging to join the fight. Who came, the 212th? Undoubtedly they'd come in some capacity, but he would hazard a guess that there's a fair amount of blue mixed in the golden orange. Skywalker never was one to sit on his hands and wait patiently where General Kenobi was concerned.

"Just hang on, General. They're almost here." Cody licks lips that taste like sour old iron. First thing he's going to do after seeing to his General and getting debriefed is grab the bottle of tihaar he confiscated from Wooley. There aren't many perks of being in command, but if he had to make a list then sampling the contraband for “safety reasons” would definitely be near the top.

The blaster fire gets closer, along with the subsonic buzz of a lit saber. Cody fidgets in his cross-legged sit, his legs on fire and cramped from being bent for days, barely able to contain himself. The door beeps and slides open. Cold air that smells like corpses is sucked into the room, shocking him. He hears a single, sharp inhale, high-pitched and young. "Cody?" a trembling voice asks after a few pregnant seconds.

"Commander Tano," Cody rasps. The words scrape his throat like rusty sheet metal.

The sound of her footsteps scuff across the floor. "Oh, Force, what is this?" She touches the metal band that the droids had bolted into his skull. He jerks in his chains as a lightning bolt of sharp pain zaps through his temples, accidentally smacking his head against the wall as he does. "It's okay. Don't move, everything is going to be fine." Her commlink beeps. "Rex, cell 117. I found them. I need a medic here, now." Her voice shakes. “E-Everything is going to be okay.”

"General?" Cody tries to clear his throat, tastes blood instead. "It's alright, General, we can talk now. The chains are turned off."

Kenobi taps.

"Don't… don't let Anakin up here." Cody's blood freezes. A soft, trembling hand runs across his brow, mindful of the bolts this time. "We tracked the beacon." Her voice cracks. "We came… we came as fast as we could."

Cody leans into her soft touch, for her comfort as much as his. She's always been so sensitive. "I'm alright, Commander. Go check on General Kenobi."

He hears a humming fwoom. She cuts his chains with her lightsaber, rubbing his bloodless hands briskly like he'd been out in the cold once they're free. "It's going to be okay, Cody," she says again. She's crying.

"General, please say something," Cody says hoarsely. The stench of rotten flesh is so overpowering that he can taste it. "Obi-Wan?" Why hasn't he said anything? Why hasn't he greeted Ahsoka? When did the tapping stop?

The tapping resumes; relief floods his system. "Get off of him!" Her lightsaber ignites, swings, and a wet chitinous thump follows a moment later. "I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispers it over and over again until the words slur together.

Cody reaches up to the metal blinder and starts turning the bolts that keep it attached to his skull with numb fingers. The screws take forever to twist out of his swollen, infected skin, but he doesn't stop even when Ahsoka grabs his wrists and begs him to. He shoves the sobbing girl away and rips the blinder off with an agonizing scream.

It takes a few seconds for his vision to adjust. Even in the near pitch-black his eyes hurt. General Kenobi sits cross-legged exactly where Cody had seen him last. He's still chained to the wall, mottled hands cuffed above his hanging head. A pile of something shiny and wet glistens in his lap.

Cody creeps closer on his hands and knees, unable to trust his weak eyes. His hands slip in the slick blackness that covers that side of the room. The smell of rot and sewage is almost unbearable. Cody reaches out a quivering hand, confirms with a touch what his eyes refuse to see.

The bisected insect that's been eating its way through the General's guts taps weakly on the floor one last time before finally dying with a hiss.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump , @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

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