Someone pointed out that Shawn Hatosy has abnormally large wrists, and since then, I can't stop thinking about it and drooling whenever i see them wrists. Also, can we talk about THAT vein on his right arm? HOT HOT HOT
20 or 14 from the whump list becauseee im curious :>>
(also I just read the upside down one and it was delicious you are amazing)
Thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed Upside Down!
How about we go the Hannah Montana route and I give you the best of both worlds lol - wrists AND chains? :) A darker twist on We Are Family Part 2 here - I really wanted to lean into the idea that while Hiccup is brave and willing to do anything to protect his friends, he's also fifteen years old and has been kidnapped, and he's very rightfully scared (a la this post). Anyway, hope you enjoy! Part is under the cut because of length.
.
Hiccup pressed his back against the far wall of his cell and curled his knees up to his chest. Chains clinked as he rested his forearms on his knees, the manacles on his wrists heavy and cold, even through the fabric of his tunic.
Gods. He could scarcely believe he was here, locked in a tiny, freezing cell on Outcast Island, wrists shackled together and leg gone. It had been taken by Savage, who had found great pleasure in shoving Hiccup to the cold stone floor of the cell and ripping his prosthetic off without bothering to unstrap it properly. Hiccup's stump still throbbed painfully with every heartbeat.
And then, to add insult to injury, Savage had looped a heavy chain through the manacles and attached it to a ring fitted into the floor. Hiccup had just enough slack to lean against the back wall, but not enough to reach any of the walls or the cell door.
Trapped in the dark, in a cell on a hostile island. Soon Alvin would come for him, and then… well, Hiccup couldn't be entirely sure what would happen next, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant.
Hiccup shifted in discomfort and the chains rattled again. He cringed at the sound, at the feel of them, at their weight. He'd never been chained before. Never been bound in any way, never been kidnapped.
Oh, gods — he had been kidnapped.
The seed of panic lodged in his chest sprouted, bloomed into something darker and deeper and more desperate, something that made his flesh crawl and his lungs constrict and his hands tremble. He didn't — he didn't want to be here, he'd been taken against his will, tricked and betrayed and thrown onto the enemy's ship, carted across treacherous waters by an even more treacherous man. Hiccup's breaths came in short, panting gasps; his pulse thundered against the heavy iron bands clamped tightly around his wrists.
He tried to calm himself, tried to think, but fear had him truly in its maw now, its poisonous fangs digging into his very soul.
With a shout of fear and fury, Hiccup threw himself to the side, lurching against the chain bolting him to the floor. He barely felt the pain as chain pulled taut and the cuffs dug brutally into his wrists. Again, he yanked against the chain, threw his weight around desperately, metal jangling, cuffs jolting and bruising and cutting into his wrists, praying to the gods that he would, even for one second, be granted a share of his father's immense strength. That his fighting and struggling and thrashing would pay off. That the chain would snap, or his manacles would break.
It didn't work. Of course it didn't work.
Hiccup finally slumped back against the wall, breath coming much too quickly, shaking and sweating and terror-fueled adrenaline coursing through his body at Night Fury speed. The damn chain mocked him, chattering incessantly in time with his shivering.
Hiccup hated being trapped. Even before Toothless, before he'd discovered the endless expanse of sky and stars and clouds on the back of a dragon, Hiccup hadn't liked feeling trapped. But now, especially with the knowledge of true freedom, unfettered from the earth itself, confinement of any kind made him feel like something sacred had been stolen from inside of him, and he wanted it back. And this was, by far, the most trapped, the most confined, he'd ever been.
Eventually, though the panic still buzzed inside him like hundreds of angry bees, Hiccup's exhausted body couldn't keep up with the demands of the adrenaline any longer. Fatigue set in, replaced his bones with lead. All at once, the repercussions of his frenzied escape attempt descended upon him, and he couldn't hold back a whimper of pain.
His shoulders and arms ached, ached like an omen of fever. His back hurt, his ribs pinched. But worst of all were his wrists.
Agony encircled each wrist, a symphony of throbbing aches and cutting stings taking his breath away with every beat of his pulse. Perhaps the gods hadn't given him the strength to break out of his chains, but the adrenaline had made him strong enough to inflict painful damage to his wrists from his struggles.
How long he lay there on the hard stone floor, breathing through the pain and tying to work through the panic, he had no idea. It felt like hours. Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching and he somehow found the energy to heave himself into a sitting position. He squared his shoulders, schooled his expression into something he hoped erred toward fearless defiance. No way in Hel would he let Alvin see the extent of his fear.
But Alvin, as it turned out, did not need to gauge Hiccup's fear by his posture or facial expression. Instead, when he and Savage entered his cell, Savage's torch nearly blinding Hiccup after spending so long in semi-darkness, Alvin crouched in front of Hiccup and unlocked the manacles. The looped chain slid free and slumped to the floor with a parade of clinks.
For a few precious seconds, Hiccup's relief outweighed his dread, but the latter came crashing back as Alvin seized Hiccup's forearm in a gigantic hand. Pain lanced down his wrist and to his fingertips, up his arm and to his shoulder. Fear so potent he could taste it coiled within him as Alvin rolled the sleeve of Hiccup's tunic up. On his other side, Savage did the same. His captors forced Hiccup's hands in front of him and took stock of the damage in the flickering torchlight.
Hiccup's stomach squirmed at the sight of his wrists. Now he knew why they hurt so badly: Bruises had already begun to blossom around each wrist, a mottling of red and purple that would surely darken and swell with time. The edges of the cuffs had carved deep indentations into his wrists, the skin around them red and raw and missing several layers of skin. He had no doubt that if he hadn't had the protection of his sleeves, the metal would have bitten deeply into his flesh and drawn blood.
Alvin threw his head back and howled with laughter when he saw the sorry state of Hiccup's wrists, Savage immediately following suit like the sniveling dog he was. A deep discomfort gnawed at Hiccup's gut at their amusement, and he tried to wrench his wrists from their grasp — which only served to send more pain streaking through his arms. He gasped in pain, and his tormentors laughed harder.
When his guffaws had dwindled to dark chuckles, Alvin said, "You put on a brave face, I'll give you that, boy. But the state of your wrists show how scared you really are."
Hiccup's stomach churned but he forced himself to meet Alvin's eyes. "So I tried to escape. Doesn't mean I'm scared. If anything, it means I have a healthy sense of self-preservation."
Alvin chortled, shifting his grip to squeeze Hiccup's battered wrist. A choked whine burst unbidden from Hiccup's mouth; it hurt so much he couldn't even find the will to be embarrassed.
Alvin relieved the pressure after a moment that felt like days, but pain still raged unchecked in Hiccup's wrist. "This isn't the mark of a calm man, 'iccup. People don't hurt themselves like this tryin' to escape if they're not scared shitless." He leered at Hiccup. "Trust me, boy — I know what I'm talkin' about." He didn't explain how he knew, and Hiccup didn't ask.
Instead, Hiccup thrust his chin high, refusing to be cowed. So what if Alvin knew he was afraid? Hiccup could be brave despite his fear. He wouldn't let Alvin win.
Alvin finally released Hiccup's arm. "You ready to train my dragons yet, boy?"
Hiccup shook his head. "Not even close."
Alvin shook his head slowly in a parody of regret. "Well, then, I s'pose I should give you a little more time alone to think about it." To Savage, "Chain him up again."
Another wave of panic washed over Hiccup, and he struggled frantically as Savage locked one of the cuffs back around his wrists. The weight of the metal on his developing bruises, especially after his short reprieve, hurt so much that tears sprang to to Hiccup's eyes.
"Can you — just, leave the manacles off?" he gasped, the thought of being restrained again enough to rekindle the smoldering embers of senseless panic. By sheer force of will, Hiccup kept himself from succumbing to the fear entirely.
"Not comfy enough for Berk's precious heir?" Savage mocked.
Hiccup bristled. "I'm down a leg and and I'm locked in a cell. Chaining me is a tad overkill, don't you think?"
Alvin sneered and locked the other cuff tight around Hiccup's other wrist; a shudder rippled through Hiccup at the click of the lock. Savage looped the chain back through Hiccup's manacles and reattached it to the floor.
"Maybe it's a little overkill," the Outcast chief conceded, causing a little bubble of hope to rise in Hiccup's chest. A bubble that promptly disintegrated when Alvin added, "Might be useful for loosenin' that tongue of yours though." His eyes glittered darkly as he stood and led Savage out of the cell. The door slammed behind them, and Hiccup only just kept himself from flinching at the finality of the lock engaging. "Think about it, 'iccup. You could be back with your dragon, training my dragons. No chains. No manacles. You just have to agree to work for me."
Hiccup forced down the fear and snapped, "Not interested. The benefits here stink."
"Make your jokes, runt," Alvin snarled, slamming a mammoth fist into the bars. Hiccup jolted in surprise and glared as Alvin chuckled. "We'll be back in a couple of hours. If your answer doesn't change, maybe we'll try something new. How's about hangin' you by your wrists from the ceiling? That sound fun?"
Cold dread turned Hiccup's blood to ice but he somehow managed to snarl, "Go to Hel."
Alvin grinned wickedly. "If you don't agree to train me dragons, that's exactly where I'll be sending you and your Night Fury."
Hiccup held himself together until his captors' footsteps faded completely and a door far down the hall slammed. Only then did he allow the horror to wash over him.
He wanted Toothless. He wanted his friends. He wanted his dad. He wanted the chains gone and his leg back. He wanted to go home.
Surely his friends would be looking for him by now. They'd find him. They'd bust him out of this dirty cell and shatter the chain holding him here. Together they'd find Toothless and leave this godsforsaken island behind them.
He just prayed they did all this before Alvin came back. Because, gods, Alvin was going string him up by his wrists and torture him until Hiccup agreed to train his dragons. And Hiccup wanted to be strong, to hold out, to be brave and defiant and to refuse to cave, no matter what Alvin put him through. He was a dragon rider, for Thor's sake, heir to Berk's throne and leader of the Dragon Academy. He'd faced a dragon the size of a mountain and won! He should be able to take whatever Alvin doled out, to stay strong until his friends came or he found a way to escape.
But Hiccup was also fifteen years old, chained in a cage about to be tortured. Kidnapped, far from his home in the heart of hostile territory, wrists a mess of pain and bruises. Dragons, he was used to. But cruel men willing to do anything to break him, wanting only to take what he refused to give? These were uncharted waters, leaving Hiccup floundering far out of his depth.
Even so, he steeled himself as best he could, took slow, controlled breaths, gritted his teeth against the agony ravaging his wrists, and forced himself to remain as still as possible as his resolve faltered with every clink of the chains.
He prayed to the gods that the next faces he's see would be his friends', here to rescue him, and not his captors', here to torture him. But if Alvin returned before his friends found him, Hiccup would give him one hell of a fight. Even sick with terror, wrists screaming with pain, body shivering uncontrollably, Hiccup wouldn't give in. He couldn't.
He would protect his people, his dragon, and his home with his life. He would hang by his wrists all night if it kept the Outcasts off the backs of dragons, if it kept those he loved safe. And if something inside him broke in the process, well, he had faith that when rescue did arrive, his friends, his father, and Toothless would be able to piece him back together again.
