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Is it ok to complete a 5-in-a-row on one card and then ask for another/retire the first card?
I like a lot of the prompts on mine, but I'm not sure what to do with a few of them given my fandoms. Next time, I'd do selecting the prompts I'm ok with I think.
Yes, that's fine. You can retire your current card at any time.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Johnny Cade/Ponyboy Curtis
Characters: Johnny Cade, Ponyboy Curtis, Bob Sheldon, Sodapop Curtis, Darrel âDarryâ Curtis Jr., Two-Bit Mathews, Dallas Winston, Steve Randle
Additional Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Murder, Drowning, Stabbing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, One-Sided Attraction
Summary:
Prompts Filled: @whumpmasinjuly-archive Day 15: Dizzy @julybreakbingo B3: Kidnapping a crush/love interest in hopes of instilling them with Stockholm Syndrome, @badthingshappenbingo N2: Stumbling and Staggering
Fandom(s): Spies Are Forever
Pairing(s): Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Rating: M
Warnings: Captivity, Fainting, Implied/Referenced Non-Consensual Drug Use, Dubiously Consensual Drug Use
Aaaaand we are back again with another fill for the @badthingshappenbingo. I'm getting so close to my first ever bingo on this so I'm excited, and hopefully you are too! This time, from the marvel universe, we have a poly ship of some of my favorite avengers. Enjoy!
Content Warnings: Impostor syndrome, death trap, ambiguous ending
Summary: While James is caught in a death trap, he begins to think about his insecurities.
Ao3 Version
Bond (James Bond Jr) was not having a good day. He was woken up in the middle of the night because of one of IQâs âworks in progress.â Because of this, he woke up late in the morning. He didnât even get time to eat breakfast before he had to run to class, but he was still late and got scolded for it. Trevor was being more of a nuisance than usual and rubbing Jamesâ lateness in his face. They had his least favorite school lunch, he stepped on gum, and most of all⊠wellâŠ
He called his uncle that afternoon, just like they had agreed upon, and 007 didnât pick up.
James knew it wasnât anything personal. His uncleâs life was busy, and sometimes duty called unexpectedly. If anyone in the world understood what that was like it was him. But he had really wanted to talk to his uncle, and this was the third time in a row one of them had missed a scheduled call. No, it wasnât personal, but that didnât make it stop hurting.
James was a bit giddy when he discovered SCUM was up to something. It was a good opportunity to let some of his emotions out in a constructively destructive way.
Long story short: SCUM tried to kidnap Lucy Maiyor, a new student at Warfield, because her father, Terrance Maiyor, the mayor of NYC, was secretly a scientist working on technology that controlled the tides. In typical SCUM fashion, SCUM wanted to kidnap Lucy to threaten Mayor Maiyor into controlling the tides for them.
Long fight scene short: James fought to protect Lucy. Lucy managed to get away, but James was knocked out.
Now, James was waking up with his hands tied above his head, dangling over a pit of liquid. His arms were going numb and his head hurt where he had been hit. The chemically scent in the room, familiar to James thanks to some of IQâs experiments, let him know the liquid below him was probably a potent acid. Pretty typical stuff for him. He just needed to figure out how he was going to get out of it this time. But before he could, Dr No walked into his view.
âHave a nice nap, Bond?â Dr No asked.
âSlept like a baby, thank you,â James retorted. âI feel refreshed and ready to stop you.â
âToo bad you wonât get the chance. Once youâre gone, I expect nothing will be able to stop us from getting Lucy Meiyor and controlling the tides.â
âYou expect me to die? You really are mad.â
Dr No laughed. For some reason it put James on edge. âWas what I said really that amusing?â James asked.
Dr No shook his head. âForgive me. I was just thinking about you and your uncle. Youâre so very alike, with your humor, boldness, tendency to cause trouble⊠yet youâre so very different.â
Great. His uncle. Just what James didnât want to think about. But he couldnât let Dr No know that. âSorry, but I donât see whatâs so funny abouââ
âDo you think your uncle would let himself get caught like this?â
James felt a pit start to form in his stomach. âEven 007 can fall victim to a lucky shot.â
Dr No nodded once. âEvery now and then, yes. But you get caught so often it can hardly be blamed on luck.â
He did. He really did. âI always get out in the end,â James debated.
âItâs true. You always just so happen to have the perfect gadgets, donât you?â Dr No began to circle the acid pit. âHow long have you been fighting SCUM?â
Well, he started around his sixteenth birthday, so⊠âA year and some months.â
âAnd in that time, how many times have you actually managed to catch any of us?â
Twenty-one. Heâd caught henchmen plenty, but if they were talking about the big players, it had only happened twenty-one times. And a majority of those times, they got away from the police or broke out of prison afterwards. It was a bad sign that he could count how many times it happened.
James didnât want to admit to his failures, so he just said, âWhy do you want to know?â
âJust wondering,â Dr No chuckled. He stopped in front of James and looked him in the eyes. âItâs not luck that you get caught. Itâs luck that you ever win. I wonder, does your uncle know youâre an unworthy heir? Do your friends know? Or do you have them all fooled?â
There it was. The question James had been asking himself for a while now.
James was no fool. He knew that he had gotten lucky every time and that was the only reason he made it. IQ always just happened to have given him the right gadget, or he was in just the right environment to use to his advantage, or something. His uncle was the best at what he did. James? He was just some lucky kid.
Yet so many people seemed convinced he was this great hero. All his closest friends thought so. He felt bad for tricking them into thinking he was. If they knew the truth theyâd be terrified and rightfully so. He kept dragging them into messes, and one day, he wouldnât be able to get them out of it.
He wished he was like 007. He wished he really was a great hero. He wished he was worthy of the name.
007 was smart. Maybe he knew the truth. Maybe he didnât call James on purpose.
And James knew his insecurities were irrational. He knew he still needed skill to stop SCUM so many times, and he knew his uncle wasnât some genius superhuman.
Maybe on another day he wouldâve actually feltlike they were irrational. Maybe on another day Dr Noâs words wouldnât have gotten to him so much. Maybe on another day he would have a good retort.
But it was not another day.
James tried to say something to defend himself. âIâ Thatâsââ was all that came out.
Dr No looked genuinely surprised. âYou? Speechless? Surely you can manage one witty remark.â
James gave up. He didnât even try to speak. He focused his energy on clearing his mind. It wasnât working.
Dr No laughed. âI never thought Iâd see the day! Your silence is music to my ears! How pleasant to think youâll soon be silenced permanently. Unfortunately, I have matters to attend to, so I wonât get to witness it myself. Goodbye, James Bond Jr!â
Dr No pulled a lever, and James began slowly being lowered down. Then he left James alone with nothing but his doubts and a pit of acid below him.
In the final battle against Ibara, the Kingdom of Science emerged victorious against all odds. With the Medusa in hand and the Kingdom of Petrification defeated, plans to save humanity could move forward, bolstered by new allies and additional resources.
Things were bound to go smoothly from then on; after all, Senkuâs bad luck had already run its course the moment they set foot on the island.
Unfortunately for Senku, he still had one more battle to win.
Warnings: kidnapping, implied drugging that happens off-screen to facilitate the kidnapping, torture, canon-typical violence
Excerpt:
As soon as he catches a glimpse, he sucks a sharp breath in through his nose â because there beside him, lying bound on the elegant dining table in metal straps to match Dick's own, is Tim.
He's not awake yet, but he seems to be stirring; even as Dick watches, the white lenses in Red Robin's domino blink open, matching the motion of the eyes behind it.
He can read the subtle shift in Tim's expression, even if no one else probably can: the faint tightening in the jaw, the way the flex of muscle presses his lips together. He knows Tim well enough to know what alarm looks like, when he's trying to hide it.
Dick can't tell where Tim is looking with the domino's lenses obscuring his eyes, but he can guess â makes out the faintest tilt of a chin as Tim cants in toward him. It lasts only a second or two, and then there's a shift of weight and his little brother turns toward the rest of the room, putting them back to back.
Tim's all business as he surveys the situation. When his voice comes, it's low, quiet enough to be lost under the hum of polite conversation. "How long was I out?"
Dick pitches his voice just as soft. "Not sure. I just woke up, too."
Tim must not like their odds any more than Dick does; as he takes in the glittering gala and its owl-masked attendees, the tension in his shoulders ratchets up, and his fingers twitch toward the spot where his bo staff ought to be secured but isn't.
Not sure if you're still taking prompts, but if so, would love to see something about Toothless + disability/chronic pain. There's so many wonderful fics abt like, Hiccup having a bad pain day and Toothless comforting him, but I'm really hungry for one where they're both hurting bc there's a snowstorm or something <3
Sorry this took so long to get done! I wrote this in the midst of one of the worst flares I've had in a while, so a looooot of that went into this fic (also a lot of research about amputation/phantom/scar tissue pain). Hopefully it's worth the wait!) Thanks so much for the ask! (Also, I'm using this fic to check off a BTHB square, too!)
When a bad pain flare hits both Hiccup and Toothless at the same time, dragon and rider take care of one another - and Hiccup learns a valuable lesson from his dragon along the way.
Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon (Animated Movies), DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon)
Words: 4,898 | Chapters: 1/1 | Rating: General Audiences | Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply | Category: Gen | Part 2 of Bad Things Happen Bingo, Part 23 of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Hurt
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless | Characters: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon)
Additional Tags: Chronic Pain, Phantom pain, Fibromyalgia, Scar Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless Friendship, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III Whump, Hurt Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III Needs a Hug, Hurt Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon), Friendship, dragon cuddles, Worried Toothless, Worried Hiccup, Amputation, wrote this fic during an awful flare up, so much of it is deeply personal to my own experiences, Pain, Scars, The boys taking care of each other <3, Whump, Angst, a lil, because i can't help myself
Even before he opened his eyes, Hiccup knew it was going to be one of those days.
He hadn't moved yet, hadn't so much as shifted his legs or turned his head, but he could already feel it, descending upon him like a heavy shroud, wrapping his body in layers of pain and fatigue, scrambling his mind and setting his senses on fire. And the warning buzz in his lower left leg â which didn't even exist because he'd lost it three years ago â painted a grim picture of what was to come in the next few hours.
Nausea settled itself in the pit of his stomach, skin crawling and joints preemptively aching at the thought of moving, of sitting up, of strapping on his prosthetic leg and forcing himself to stand. Of dragging himself to the Clubhouse and subjecting himself to the chaos of breakfast with the other riders. Normally he enjoyed eating with his friends, but when he woke up feeling like this, the laughter was always too loud, the overlapping voices too overwhelming, and any degree of touch too grating on his already shredded nerves.
And so Hiccup didn't move. He didn't rise. Not yet. Just for now, for the next few minutes, he could rest here in this in-between state, where the full weight of the pain and fatigue had not yet crashed down on him, where he hurt but not too much, where, if he focused hard on something else, he could almost convince himself that this was going to be a normal day with a normal level of pain and a normal amount of exhaustion.
Being an amputee on Berk was not unusual by any means â though Hiccup was definitely the youngest â which meant that Hiccup had already known a bit of what to expect when he lost his leg. Especially growing up with Gobber as a mentor. Hiccup knew all about phantom limb pain, and how the scar tissue on the stump often hurt, especially if there was bad weather brewing just over the horizon. Between Gobber and his two stumps and Bucket and his, well, bucket, the village had never been struck by a storm unprepared.
(A storm was on its way now; he knew this already. He and the others had spotted it on a scouting mission, blowing their way from the east. They'd hoped it would blow itself out by the time it reached the Edge, but based on the agony in Hiccup's stump, it was good that they'd made preparations just in case.)
So although Hiccup had dreaded the possibility of long-lasting pain after his amputation, he'd at least had an idea of what awaited him. Or so he'd thought.
Because what he had not anticipated was the full-body assault that had accompanied the phantom and stump pains. It, much like the amputation pain, ebbed and flowed, though it never fully receded. It usually settled like a coiled viper in his joints, stretched along his muscles, and brought with it a fatigue so staggering, so all-encompassing, that it had a physical presence, like millstones had been tied to his limbs and hung around his neck, like enormous, unyielding hands were pressing against his shoulders, pushing him down, wringing him out.
Summary: You, an EMT named Hope Watson, help a teenager who has been shot in the leg. He believes himself to be some sort of super spy or something, but there's no way he is, right?
Ao3 version
You, Hope Watson, were on your way to the local TV station in an ambulance. Apparently a teenager had been shot in the leg there. You didnât know what had happened. A TV station seemed like an odd place to get shot. But it didnât matter. What mattered was helping the patient.
Your hospital was very short staffed at the moment. Someone else was there driving and would help you get the patient into the vehicle and get them stable, but then youâd be on your own to take care of them in the back. But even though it was understaffed, your hospital had to be the one to take this call. Yours was the closest. And even then, it was still worryingly far away. You hoped youâd get there in time.
You arrived before the police, but according to the witness the perpetrator had left and you decided to trust them. You grabbed your equipment and a stretcher, then headed into the building without hesitation. Your coworker followed you.
You had to look around for a bit. You had never been inside a TV station before. It mostly looked like just another office building. If you were wearing different shoes they mightâve clicked against the white tile floor. The air conditioning was on a bit too high and you felt a little chilly. That probably wasnât good for the patient.
You didnât see anyone. You were pretty sure it wasnât supposed to be this empty.
Eventually, you found the patient. He was lying on the ground in a room full of electronics you didnât recognize. A blond teenager was sitting next to him. He mustâve been the witness.
The witness spotted you. âOh thank goodness youâre here!â His tone was relieved, but his face made it clear he was still scared. âI put a bandage on the wound and Iâve been applying pressure, but Iâm not sure itâs enough.â
âLet me see,â you calmly instructed.
You knelt down next to the patient. The bullet wound was in his left thigh. It appeared that it hadnât gone all the way through his leg, so the bullet was still in there. There was a lot of blood. Some of it had seeped through the bandage the witness put on it. You didnât know if it was still seeping through or if the bleeding had mostly stopped. You hoped for the kidsâ sakes it was slowing down. The patient looked pale, and though he was still awake, you could tell he had lost a lot of blood already.
The patient seemed to be breathing steady, and nothing was obstructing his airway. That was good at least.
âWhatâs your name?â you asked the patient. You had to see if he was still responsive.
âBond,â the kid said. âJames Bond Jr.â
âIâm Hope Watson. Me and my coworker are going to do what we can to help you.â
James nodded.
Since there seemed to be no imminent danger, you decided it was best to get him to the ambulance right away. You could try to prevent shock there. âWeâre going to put you on the stretcher and take you to the ambulance now, ok?â
He nodded again. You and your coworker got him on the stretcher.
âThank you for calling us, and for the first aid you did,â you told the witness before you left. âYou did a good job.â
You started to go, but the witness followed you and stood beside the stretcher. âWait! Iâm staying with James!â
âIQ, no. Youâre staying here,â James demanded.
âButââ
âSomeone needs to be here to tell the police what happened.â
The witness folded his arms and stood defiantly. âYou know they wonât believe us! They never do!â
They never do? Strange way to phrase it. Made it sound like things like this had happened to them before. And why wouldnât the police believe their story?
âWe donât know that until we try to explain,â James argued. âBesides, honesty is the best policy, even if they donât believe us.â
âWeâre wasting time,â your coworker said. âIf the patient doesnât want you on the ambulance, then youâre staying here. End of discussion.â
The witness deflated. âFine.â
With that, you left the building, and you got the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. Your coworker left you with James. You got to work and they got to driving. You got James hooked up to an IV, made sure he was warm, elevated his uninjured leg, and checked his oxygen levels. You asked him the important questions, like if he took any meds (he didnât) and what his blood type was (O+). He remained responsive.
Getting his emergency contacts was tricky. The problem was that they had to be someone nearby. You started to wonder why his family and trusted adults were so far away. Eventually, you settled for the contacts of a âMr Mitchelâ and the witness. Ideally, the second emergency contact would be an adult, but it you needed to move on to other questions.
You got through all the questions and took all the notes you needed to. James seemed stable. He still needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible, but you had done all you could.
There was still some time before you would arrive at the hospital. Maybe you couldâve just monitored him in silence for the rest of the ride, but if he became unresponsive, you wanted to know when it happened. Also screw it, you were curious, especially after what his friend said. You wouldnât pressure him to share anything but you decided to at least ask.
âYou donât have to tell me if you donât want to,â you prefaced, âbut if you donât mind me asking, how did this happen?â
âItâs kind of a long story,â James told you.
You shrugged. âWeâve got some time still. Just give me the short version.â
âThe short version?â James thought for a second. âWe were stopping a criminal organization from hypnotizing people with a TV show and taking over the world.â
You felt like your brain short circuited. You sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. Maybe you heard him wrong? âCan you repeat that?â
He said the same thing again. You had heard him correctly. You sighed deeply. He was probably delirious. That being said, you still wanted to know if he was remaining responsive. So, against your better judgement, you asked him to elaborate.
âThereâs this worldwide criminal organization called SCUMââ
âScum?â you echoed questioningly.
James smiled, looking a bit amused. âShort for Saboteurs and Criminals United in Mayhem. Not the most flattering name, I know, but itâs what they picked. Anyway, they do lots of things, but their ultimate goal is world domination.â
âHow come Iâve never heard of them?â you asked.
âThey usually try to keep their schemes under wraps.â
You raised an eyebrow. âAnd yet you know about them.â
âI first heard about them from my uncle,â he explained, âbut how I first met them is a story for another day.â
That answer only gave you more questions. You picked the most pressing one on your mind, which was âWhen you first met them? Youâve interacted with this group multiple times?â
âWe cross paths frequently.â
Ok, so he thought this was a recurring thing. Part of you wanted to ask more questions about that, but you resisted. âAlright. Continue.â
âTheir latest evil scheme was to hypnotize the masses with TV. Have you heard ofâŠâ He paused and sighed deeply. âJimmy Bands the Second?â Contempt was dripping from his voice as he said the name.
âThe hit new TV show? Yes, Iâve heard of it.â You had even watched an episode. It was about some super spy teenager going up against this group called COOL (Criminal Organization Of... something or Other, you didnât remember.) It wasnât bad, and the villains were especially interesting, but it wasnât your thing. âWhat about it?â
âThat was the show they made.â James looked annoyed. âItâs nothing but a crude mockery of my life! I knew SCUM was petty, but this is justâŠâ He shook his head. He tried to, anyways. He was still laying on the stretcher and that made things more difficult. âI donât know how it got so popular. Sorry, Iâm getting off topic. You know how the midseason finale was supposed to air tonight?â
âOne of my coworkers wouldnât shut up about it,â you said with a tired smile. âThey love that show.â
James huffed. âYes, well, the episode was going to hypnotize everyone who watched it. Me and IQ had to put a stop to it. He managed to use his hacking skills to stop it from airing anywhere. I donât really understand how he did it, Iâm not a genius like he is, but he needed to be at the TV station to do it.â
That explained why they were there in the first place, although it was just his delusion and not the real reason. Even so, there were some questions yet to be answered. âIf you stopped it, how did you get shot? And why was the TV station empty?â
âSCUM found out about our plan. They tried to stop us. I kept the operatives away from IQ, and made sure all the civilians got out of there. Right when it looked like the coast was clear, Scumlord showed up. He was too late to stop us, but he wasnât too late to hurt us.â James scowled. âHe shot me in the leg before making his getaway.â
There were more important things to think about there, like how James thought he got injured, but your brain latched onto one thing. âScumlord?â
âYes, the fact he chose such a name baffles me too.â
You sighed. This was ridiculous. You knew you shouldnât keep humoring him. He probably was watching Jimmy Bands the Second or some other spy show and his delirious brain conjured up this wild story. Maybe his assailant hit him in the head too and that was why he believed all this. In fact, you added âCheck patient for head injuryâ to your notes for the ER doctors.
And yet, James was still responsive. You were only a couple minutes away now. Keeping him talking for a bit longer, seeing if he stayed responsive the whole way there, was probably still worth while.
âHave you been shot by SCUM before?â you settled on asking. âYou seem awfully calm.â
âNot with bullets, and itâs never been this bad. Usually SCUM operatives use ray guns. I usually donât get hit, but Iâve been grazed before.â James spoke so casually it was unnerving, even knowing it couldnât possibly be real.
âWhat is the reason youâre so calm then?â
âI find panicking doesnât help.â He smiled at you. âAnd I trust Iâm in good hands now.â
âLetâs hope you didnât misplace that trust.â A bit overly cynical to say, maybe, but you didnât want to make any promises you couldnât keep, directly or indirectly.
Luckily, James didnât seem to mind the cynicism. He just chuckled. âLetâs. Now, if you donât mind, the adrenaline is wearing thin and Iâm rather tired. Mind if I stop talking?â
You shook your head. It was only about another minute to the hospital, and it didnât seem like he would go unresponsive by then. That was hopefully a good sign. You kept monitoring him and made sure he didnât fall asleep, just in case he really was concussed.
In the quiet, you finally heard the thoughts in the back of your head. You thought his story had too much detail. That it explained too many things. You thought there was a chance he was telling the truth.
But that was ridiculous. There was no way anything like that could really happen. Besides, if it was real, shouldnât he be keeping everything secret from you? You supposed that blood loss might make someone more loose lipped, but still. It was stupid that you were even considering the possibility of it being real.
You arrived at the hospital. You watched the ER doctors take James away on the stretcher. You continued on with your shift and tried not to think about it all too hard.
The next day, when you found out the midseason finale of Jimmy Bands the Second hadnât aired, the creators had mysteriously disappeared, and the show was now canceled, you decided continuing to not think about it too hard would absolutely be for the best.
I wrote this ages ago, when I was still really working intensely on BTHB. Came across my doc again recently when I was looking for a particular scene I remember writing.
Perhaps this may not really 'fit' with a Bad Things post, because it's more soft than whumpy so keep that in mind if you're looking for a particular type of whump.
Found this piece finished in the doc from November 2025.
I'd like to get back into this bingo sheet, but I have a lot of other projects in the works. Kiss Week and my Vampire AU for example.
As well as a mystery original project in the works.
Read fic Here on Ao3 or Under the Cut.
A sort of sequel of this fic!
The cold wind buffered Evelyn as her mount trudged through the Frostbacks. She took a breath but the icy air in her lungs made her cough. She hunched over the saddle of her mount, coughing as she tried to take in a breath that wasnât just icy knives.
Several weeks since she had almost died from flowers growing in her lungs. She and Cassandra had fallen into each otherâs arms. Evelyn hadnât realised just how much Cassandra had cared about her. Seeing her face when she woke, when the flowers had almost suffocated herâŠ
When they had kissed⊠She was sure there was no better feeling. However, Cassandra had had to burn the flowers from her body. They had taken hold, and without the Seekerâs powers she would have died. But in saving her life, her lungs had been impacted in ways that werenât always completely obvious.
The icy cold air of Skyhold and the Frostbacks always caused issues with taking too deep of a breath. It was like the air itself was made of ice.
She covered her mouth with her arm as she coughed at the attempted a breath, each cough making the freezing air in her lungs burn more, more, more. As Evelyn took in small, gasping breaths in an attempt to stop coughing, she heard the hoofbeats of another mount and then a hand on her back, pressing between the leather of her shoulder blades.
The familiar touch of the Seeker soothed the ache in her chest, and she was able to take in a few shaky breaths as se leant towards her, her warmth, her presence, everything that was just Cassandra. Evelyn turned to the Seeker, eyes rimmed red from the effort of coughing and breathing, meeting her worried gaze.
âIâm okay.â She wheezed, supressing another cough. âHurts to breathe.â Cassandraâs eyebrows furrowed and her expression set in a concerned frown. âItâs the cold air, it burns.â
âWe can build a fire; let you breathe some warm air for a bit.â Cass reached out and brushed her face with a gloved hand. âI⊠I do not like seeing you like this.â
Evelyn breathed in a sharp breath that sent her into a coughing fit again and Cassandra manoeuvres her mount closer to rub at Evelynâs chest, soothing the ache and letting her take another breath without coughing.
âWeâre too close to Skyhold to stop. The others want to get home⊠I want to get home.â Evelyn curled a hand around Cassandraâs on her chest. âYou make it easier to breathe. You always do.â
âStubborn woman.â Cassandra muttered as she squeezed the rogueâs hand. âFine.â She turned to the rest of the party and waved her hand. âKeep moving! Letâs beat this weather before it becomes a storm.â
She pulled a scarf from around her neck and suppressed a shiver, wrapping the warm material around Evelynâs mouth. âThere, that should help keep you from breathing straight freezing air.â
Evelyn chuckled and her eyes crinkled. âAnd it smells like you. What more could I ask?â
Written in Ink, Signed in Blood by Emachinescat (AO3)
HTTYD | Link in Title
Johann forces Hiccup to write his own ransom note at knifepoint.
Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon (Animated Movies), DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon)
Words: 2,907 | Chapters: 1/1 | Rating: Teen And Up Audiences | Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply | Category: Gen | Part 3 of Bad Things Happen Bingo, Part 24 of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Hurt
Characters: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Johann (How to Train Your Dragon)
Additional Tags: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III Whump, Kidnapped Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hurt Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hostage Situations, Hurt No Comfort, Whump, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Hair-pulling, Knives, Blood, Panic, Threats of Violence, Threats of torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, Ransom, ransom note, Angst
Hiccup stared down at the blank piece of parchment on the table before him, heart pounding and stomach twisting. "I'm sorry," he said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady despite the unease curdling in his gut. "You want me to what?"
"You heard me, Master Hiccup," Johann snarled, tightening his grip on Hiccup's right wrist and pushing the arm slightly higher up his back. Hiccup couldn't stop a sharp inhale as pain lanced from his wrist to his shoulder. Johann's satisfied chuckle rode on the wings of the warm breath ghosting the back of his prisoner's neck.
Motion to the left caught the corner of Hiccup's eye; with a flick of Johann's wrist, a wickedly sharp dagger appeared from his sleeve. Panic flared and Hiccup tried to twist away from the approaching weapon, but Johann's fingers squeezed his wrist so tightly that pain sparked to his elbow and his fingers started to go numb.
The razor edge of the knife, warm from Johann's body heat, kissed the delicate skin of Hiccup's throat. Breath caught in his chest and terror screamed through him, freezing his blood and stalling his heart as the knife bit, so sharp he hardly felt the skin break. He did feel the droplet of blood trickle down his neck and nestle in the hollow of his throat, and his heart slammed back into motion, fast and desperate and loud, his pulse the beat of war drums in his ears. He wanted to bolt out of the chair he'd been forced into, shove the table away, and run. But they had taken his prosthetic leg and chained his right ankle to a table leg.
"Fear," Johann purred, drawing the knife back just enough to give Hiccup a sliver of breathing room, though it didn't make breathing any easier: The terror had a strangling grip on his lungs. "That is more like it." His voice hardened to Gronkle Iron. "Pick up the quill. Now, or you'll be writing with your own blood instead of ink."
"What, you feeling horny and know that I'm the only person worth fucking around here?" Miu questioned with a smirk in response to Kiibo's vague explanation.
"No! Not that. Something's wrong," He elaborated hurriedly. "My system..." He took an unusually long pause "...Isn't working right.."
Miu's day is interrupted when Kiibo comes to her dorm with a computer virus.
