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harrysloveboat · 9 months

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John B’s Girl | JJ Maybank Fic

Summary: JJ Maybank was absolutely screwed. So detrimentally screwed. John B was going to actually end him. The blonde haired surfer had a thing for his best friend’s girl, (Y/N) Cameron. And when JJ notices something he shouldn’t, all bets are off.

Word Count: 6.8K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, cheating, dirty talking, thigh riding, car sex, mention of toys, alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), degrading, Dark!JJ, JJxReader, John BxReader, Cameron!Reader, sprinkles of fluff included, I think I might’ve made Dark!John B too by accident, etc.

Please read warnings before continuing. Really tempted to make a second part if anyone wants it! The ending kinda makes me think a second part is just necessary. Mostly unedited.

Constructive criticism and requests open on my page. I write about Harry, 5SOS, Outer Banks, and TSITP! Thank you x

It’s been an entire week of watching (Y/N) Cameron unraveling before JJ’s blue eyes.

JJ has no idea how the girl got herself into this predicament, and he certainly doesn’t understand how he’s been the only one out of his friends to notice what’s been going on between John B and his girlfriend.

Actually he does understand why, but he refuses to admit it. How could he ever come clean about the way his body ached when she was near? Or how his heart thumped out of his chest when she would accidentally brush her bare skin against his during hot summer days on the H.M.S. Pogue. Even the tender way she’d brush loose strands of blonde hair from his forehead in passing would send shocks of electricity to every corner of his body.

But this annoyingly long week was painfully different from the rest.

(Y/N) had done something on Monday.

JJ wasn’t sure what, but he knew something she had done had sent John B off the deep end. Because for the whole day, John B wouldn’t spare a kind glance her way. No matter how many times she’d initiate a conversation, nudge his arm, intertwine their hands, or even sit on his lap, John B was an absolute rock. His responses were short and curt and his eyes would focus on anything but her.

The next day is when John B really enacted his revenge.

(Y/N) was doing everything she could to get back into his good graces. That morning, she woke up early to stop at the grocery store. Buying so many things that JB’s fridge was fully stocked when she returned.

Breakfast was her first attempt. There was bacon crisping in the oven, sending a mouthwatering aroma to every Pogue in The Chateau. She was scrambling eggs on the stovetop for everyone, with a smaller pan on the side that contained eggs with cheese. By the time the toast was popping out of the toaster oven, everyone had come alive with growling stomachs.

JJ and Pope had dug right in, surprised but also very wonderfully pleased by the first home cooked meal they’d had in a while. Kie had given her a big hug first, requesting that (Y/N) wake her up next time to lend her a hand. But even as John B was served his favorite eggs with cheese for just him, he gave them the tiniest nibble, before pushing his plate away.

“Not hungry,” he shrugged moving on to a refreshing morning shower instead with even as much as a sympathetic glance back.

Kie and Pope were lost in conversation, but JJ had been a witness to it all. More than anything, he noticed the way her entire demeanor deflated as John B stalked off. The excited glint in her eyes was extinguished in haste. The crinkles at the corner of her eyes vanished alongside her smile. His heart squeezed at the sight. JJ had wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and pepper her with millions of soft, thankful kisses. Nothing she could’ve done would’ve been enough for JJ to evoke the same reaction out of her if she was his.

That afternoon, however, is when things took a completely opposite direction.

Energized by their hearty breakfast, they all decided it was a perfect sunny day to do some fishing and swimming. Kie and Pope had canonballed into the clear blue water when it happened. JJ was grabbing a beer from the cooler as (Y/N) sat next to John B who was laying on a towel, perched at the front of the boat.

She had leaned down to speak something privately into his ear. Except he shook his head, face devoid of any emotion. “You’ve been a bad girl (Y/N). You don’t deserve any attention,” his hushed dismissal was the only thing JJ managed to catch. The pout on her plump lips and furrowed eyebrows told JJ everything he needed to know. The gears clicked together in his head almost too quickly.

(Y/N), out of all people, had a praise kink that John B was currently exploiting.

The realization went straight to his crotch, his swimming trunks horribly constricting for the entire day. It made so much sense. She aimed to please, getting so excited when someone was happy with something she did. He honestly felt foolish for not catching on sooner. If someone asked JJ if he jacked off to her sweet voice begging him to destroy her in his imagination, he would immediately deny it.

By Wednesday, JJ was hooked.

There was no conversation that could capture his focus for long. Every moment of his time was devoted to her. The urges JJ had to rush to her and be her new source of comfort were becoming overwhelming but so was the need to bend her over any flat surface. He was on the verge of being diagnosed as bipolar with the amount of times his mood would swing. Every disheartened expression or bite of a lip had JJ physically twitching to remedy her frustration. But anytime she’d sit on John B’s lap and search for forgiveness with gentle touches and suggestive whispers, JJ would have to excuse himself to hide the new semi he was sporting.

(Y/N) and John B cuddled together during a movie night on Thursday evening. JJ thought for a split second that (Y/N) had finally wormed her way through John B’s walls. It didn’t even make sense to him how his best friend had managed to hold out for so long when she was completely irresistible. A little part of him was curious to know what she had done that originally started this. What had angered JB enough to drag this punishment out? By the relaxed tone throughout the movie, he figured he’d never get the answer to that question. At least he’d be able to go back to regular conversations instead of consistently excusing himself to the restroom.

But of course, JJ never seems to catch a break.

Kie had disappeared from the living room at some point to sleep in the guest bedroom. Choosing a comfortable bed over morning neck pain. Pope was on the couch, mouth drooling onto the cushion that was propped under his head. JJ had been basically forced into the sleeping bag on the floor with one measly pillow. Aside from the discomfort of the wooden floor, he had managed to fall into a deep sleep. There was a sudden noise lulling him awake.

Soft, harsh pants stirred him from his dreams.

The movie was still playing on the screen, but the volume had been turned down to leave background noise. Even with the quiet chatter, JJ heard the distinct, “please John B,” that fell from (Y/N)‘s lips followed by an angry scoff. His blue eyes peeked open, just the slightest bit, only to feel like he could pass out from what was occurring on the single seat next to the couch.

(Y/N) was sitting on John B’s thigh, hips grinding down at a rapid pace to chase her end. All the while JB was focused on the screen not paying any mind to the horny girl riding him. JJ could see the wet stains on her cheeks, beads of sweat falling down her forehead. She was moving with urgency, obviously close to her orgasm.

“Can’t believe you have the audacity to beg me to touch you after what you did,” John B muttered furiously in response to her. The only crack in his hard interior that let JJ know he was affected by (Y/N)’s actions was the tight grip at her hip. His other hand was lazily holding the remote on the beige armrest to exaggerate his disinterest. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” she pleaded as her hips faltered. The closer she got to her end, the haze in her mind would betray her. Slowing her movements just as she was on the verge of falling into the abyss and traitorously bringing her back.

He snicked at her, feeling her feeble attempts to get herself off on his thigh. She had wet through her panties hours ago, drenching John B’s thigh and the inner corners of hers. Her apologies were falling on deaf ears. “I’m not helping you. You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum when you’ve been such a bad girl. Sluts like you don’t deserve it.” His filthy words were what did it. Instead of being put off by them, the quickening of her pace and quiet whine that escaped her lips let JJ know that she enjoyed being degraded.

(Y/N)’s movement came to a sharp halt, thighs squeezing around John B as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Her entire body tensed up, face twisting in pleasure. Underneath the over-sized t-shirt her shoulders shook slightly. For the sake of not being caught by the others, it took all her strength to keep the noises at bay while threatening to spill over at any given moment. JJ thinks he might be the one to beg to hear those sounds next. She collapsed against him, scratching at his chest with a small cry when he grinded up against her overstimulated pussy.

JJ didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

He found himself in the shower again hours later, fisting his cock repeatedly until he was cumming harder than he ever thought he could.

Friday night was finally the last nail hammered into his coffin.

The party was booming, every Kook, Pogue, and Touron joining together for an epic get together at the Boneyard. Alcohol was influencing the rager, people dancing around the bonfire with high spirits. They had all ridden in the Twinkie together but gradually dispersed throughout the night. Pope was trying, and failing, to flirt with a brown-haired Touron who was too drunk to understand. She was cute but clueless. Kie was dancing in the crowd with John B, enjoying the music and winding down from an eventful day at The Wreck. She was oblivious to the fact that the nonchalant guy in front of her wasn’t paying a lick of attention.

JJ was leaning against a palm tree, crushing a can of beer in his hand. He had been in a fowl mood all day, snapping at everyone over the smallest of inconveniences. He couldn’t help it, nothing he had done was able to satisfy his persistent hard-on. Any time (Y/N) was within his eyesight, even momentarily, all the blood would rush down between his legs. Every hair flip made JJ want to grab it into a ponytail and tug hard. Inches of exposed skin silently requesting to be marked by his teeth. JJ was so sexually frustrated that he was honestly considering taking some girl home tonight.

The idea was tempting as his blue irises raked through the crowd. There were some good options available. Sophie, his old friends with benefits, had been eyeing him all night. A red haired girl had flirted with him when he retrieved his second beer. Shit there was even a drunk Kook that had been throwing herself at him if push came to shove. Still, none of them were what he actually craved deep in his bones. Subconsciously, JJ found the girl he had been really after.

(Y/N) was seated on a log in front of the fire wearing a white flowy dress that ended at the middle of her thighs. It had two straps at the top that tied behind her neck. She was free of make-up, her natural features mesmerizing JJ even from a distance. Her silky hair was blowing past her shoulders in the soft night breeze.

The fire lit up her face with hues of red and orange. Her head was tilted up slightly, eyes sealed shut. She seemed distracted, mind far away from the craziness surrounding her. JJ’s head shifted to the side in curiosity as he noted the odd behavior. He watched as (Y/N) pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down harshly. Her hands had a death-like grip on the wood below her. Something was clearly wrong.

A surge of worry passed by JJ, wondering if the girl was okay. This week had been rougher on her than any of the other Pogues knew. He was the only one besides John B that was aware of the inner turmoil she was experiencing. This meant, Kie, (Y/N)’s best friend and confidante wasn’t clued into this secret that JJ had unintentionally stumbled upon. There was no way she could know the girl needed somebody. Deciding that he needed to take it upon himself to check up on her, JJ’s legs moved before his brain did.

He took a couple of strides in her direction with no decipherable sentence coming to mind. JJ had to think a little more instead of acting on a whim. He found comfort for his nerves in the red hat being snugly placed on his hair backwards before finally sitting down next to her. “Hey, you okay?” JJ’s tone held more compassion than usual, opting to rip off the band aid. Their normal playful banter was replaced by genuine emotion that JJ was struggling to contain.

(Y/N) didn’t even notice him sit until his voice was bringing her back from the pleasure she was floating off into. Her eyes were dark, filled with lust as they landed on JJ’s. Now that he was actually sitting next to her, able to properly focus and analyze her behavior, the color drained from his face as he became all too aware. Her thighs were pressed together tightly, nails digging into the wood. (Y/N) was breathing heavily, vibrations from the plug John B had inserted before leaving The Chateau were teasing her. Her boyfriend held the remote to the stupid thing and he had been turning it off and on all night. Sometimes she’d be in a casual conversation and have to excuse herself because he’d purposefully turn on the highest setting. Even making her spill a little bit of beer down her chin in front of Kie.

By now, (Y/N) was desperate. She was squirming in her seat, holding back the pornographic moans this device had taken her to. After withholding sex from her the entire week and choosing to insert this new toy he had purposefully disappeared earlier to buy, she was like a rabid animal. The intensity of repeatedly being brought to the brink and then cut off had broken any sense of normalcy she had managed to maintain. The fiery passion in her eyes was undeniable. “I-I’m okay- yeah,” (Y/N) practically squeaked out, one hand moving to crumble the hem of her dress in a fist.

John B was insatiable from where he stood. Although he was well aware of the state he had led his girlfriend into, just the sight of JJ sitting next to her set him off. His hand reached into his jean pocket, clasping the cheap plastic and turning on the max speed with several clicks to the plus sign on the right. It was stupid and idiotic, but the jealousy that flared didn’t let him act clearly.

(Y/N) tried to contain a gasp as her body jumped slightly at the sudden change. She knew exactly what John B was doing. He was marking his territory in front of JJ, who by the look in his face obviously knew what was going on. Without an inkling about how JJ felt, John B was still going out of his way to prove (Y/N) was his. Making her cum inches away from his best friend.

JJ knew it. Saw her eyes roll to the back, her mouth drop open and nose scrunch up. The pleasure overcame her body. The orgasm ripped through her body after being edged for so long. Her toes curled as John B forced her to ride out her high in front of him with no mercy. She was unable to hide the twitch of her thighs. Tears from the pleasure mixed in with embarrassment. JJ was frozen, rock solid in his cargo shorts. His face gave nothing away except his acknowledgment of the situation. The words to describe the hunger he felt had yet to be invented. At the same time his outrage at John B’s intentional deed simmered over.

The tension in the air was palpable with deafening silence consuming them. There was no ounce of awkwardness with the way both of them were stuck in their heads. She swallowed hard, looking away as her bottom lip trembled. Seeing as John B had no intentions of turning it off, only lowering the setting, she chose to retreat. There was no explanation that could hide or sugarcoat the truth. (Y/N) got up muttering an unintelligible excuse before she was disappearing behind the fire with a walk of shame.

JJ’s entire body was hot with adrenaline and need. A primal need to fuck the girl into oblivion was no longer in his control. The pure desire radiating off her body had pushed JJ past the boundary of respect. John B smirking victoriously towards Kie did nothing to aid JJ, only encouraged him to follow in the path that (Y/N) had headed towards.

She had found safety next to the Twinkie, crying freely into the crease of her elbow against the window. The vibrator was still going, overstimulating her yet she knew better than to take it out without being told to. John B had gone too far, giving in to the green eyed monster that veered his head. Her body was almost clinging to the van at this point when calloused fingers ran up the back of her thigh.

The warm touch alerted her to the presence of somebody behind her. (Y/N)’s back arched slightly on instinct, finally getting what she was craving. She felt so depraved, so starved. Just a simple graze had goosebumps spreading like wildfire. “John B- please- I-I can’t anymore. Take it out,” she cried pathetically, begging for some form of release.

JJ groaned at the tone of her voice, so ready and desperate. It was taking all his willpower to not bend her over right now and ram himself inside of her. Without speaking, his hand continued to travel up her thigh painfully slow. In her daze she missed the hesitancy in the touch that would’ve been hasty and quick had it been John B. His eyes were trained on the dress that was hiking up, exposing a delicious set of red lace panties. Precum stained his boxers just from the sight. JJ grabbed a handful of her ass cheek tightly, reveling in the way she pushed her ass out to him and whined.

“I’m gonna warn you right now (Y/N). If I’m the one that takes it out, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to forget what his name is,” JJ growled into her ear, hot breath washing over her hypersensitive skin. (Y/N) recognized the voice immediately, feeling the cold rings that belonged to this particular Pogue cooling her ass through the pain of the grip. Her forehead fell onto the window, a pitiful whimper responding to JJ’s offer. It was wrong, so so wrong. But the bulge pressing into her ass had her eyes fluttering shut.

JJ’s logic had quite literally left planet Earth. The only thing on his mind was her. The fear of rejection wasn’t even present. His hand confidently found a home in the curve of her hip, squeezing it tightly as he ground his cock into her ass pushing her further against the van. They both moaned, any hesitation fully dissipating with the wind.

“Take it out- take it out JJ,” she gasped, his name sounding like heaven as it fell from her lips. His new mission was to hear her scream it. JJ moved with newfound purpose, flipping her over harshly before he crouched down. “Hold your dress up and spread your legs,” the dominant tone of JJ’s voice sent a new rush of slickness down her thighs.

This was JJ, her boyfriends best friend, pulling down her panties in one swift move and licking his lips ready to devour her. “JJ please,” she was so vocal, feeding into his own filthy nature. What really almost made him cum in his black boxers was the sight before him. Her pussy was glistening, wrapped tightly around the softly buzzing vibrator. Her clit was swollen, puckering and aching. He licked his lips, imprinting this image in his brain.

JJ grabbed onto the end of it, teasingly pulling it out of her and back in which earned him a breathless moan. Her hips pushed down against it automatically, chasing the feeling. “You’ve been such a good girl all night, taking it so well,” JJ’s words had her free hand gripping the handle to the door. Without even letting her process it, his fingers were replacing the vibrator which found solace in JJ’s back pocket.

He shoved two fingers in deep, coating them with her previous orgasm in a matter of seconds. JJ nudged every corner, hitting every spot reachable in this position. He moved with skill, determination clear in the way his lips wrapped around her nub and sucked. (Y/N)’s breath was knocked out of her lungs at the sensation. Her jaw slacks from the pleasure as the spark at the pit of her belly grows into an untamable fire. JJ moved like a man who needed this to survive. He flattened his tongue against her clit, the tip poking into the entrance where his fingers were sliding in and out with ease. Finally tasting her sweetness forced a moan to ripple through him and into her.

(Y/N)’s head fell back against the window hard enough to hurt and yet she didn’t feel it at all. All her senses were hyper focused on the man between her legs. Each flicker of his tongue would make her knees go out. She would’ve been on the ground already had it not been for JJ’s hand digging into her thigh to keep her up as well as open. A particular curve of his finger had a high pitched noise tumbling out. JJ didn’t miss a beat, continuing with a new rhythm as he memorized what made her walls clench around him.

“I-I’m gonna- JJ, fuck,” she couldn’t even finish her sentence but he knew exactly what she was going to say. Everything became blurry, her chest heaving from the change in his movements. The muscles in her thighs tense, attempting to close subconsciously but JJ refuses to let them. His fingers dig into her thigh so hard they’ll be bruises in the shape of his hand tomorrow. Her climax was rapidly approaching, knot tightening in her abdomen.

His tongue circled her relentlessly. Everything wrong with what they were doing secretly inflamed her heat. (Y/N)’s mind went hazy from the increasing thrusts of his fingers. The pleasure exploding inside of her in a gut twisting way. JJ watched her face twist from the blissful waves causing her eyes to close. The intensity made her mind go blank as a string of curses were spoken. He forced her to ride out her high by lapping up everything that landed on his tongue. He savored the taste, unforgivingly continuing until her body was shaking from the stimulation.

(Y/N) didn’t even get a break. She was unable to catch a breath with JJ’s merciless assault. Her hand moved from the door to his head, pushing the cap off in favor of grabbing his blonde hair. He finally eased up when he was satisfied, pulling his mouth away and not hesitating to lick his lips. “Taste so fucking good princess,” JJ breathed out while his fingers gradually came to a stop. She squeezed his hair, a whimper coming out. It was hard to believe this was JJ Maybank below her, eyes gleaming after eating her out alive.

He stood up, moving the hand that had left imprints to fist her loose hair and tilt her head up. “Suck it off my fingers,” he demanded. The authoritative tone left her with no option but to open her mouth. Her tongue slipped between the two fingers sucking them clean without breaking eye contact. JJ’s already darkening eyes were pitch black now, hints of blue disappearing at her eagerness.

“You like that don’t you? Sucking your cum off my fingers. Wonder how your little boyfriend would feel if he saw you right now,” JJ taunted her. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes but her thighs moved to shut. JJ’s knee shot out before they could, grinding up against her overly sensitive mound. He was rewarded with a delicious moan that reminded him of his leaking member that was still trapped. “Say it princess. Whose gonna fuck you and make you cum a second time in a row?” The fingers that were in her mouth moved to wrap around her throat. He gave her the freedom to speak, his forehead dangerously close to hers. Their lips could meet if she moved just a little closer. The curiosity to find out what kissing him would feel like distracted her. The soft squeeze at her throat broke her out of the trance, reminding her to respond.

(Y/N) nodded for no reason, hips pushing down against JJ’s thigh to show how much she still wanted him. “You JJ. You’re gonna fuck me and make me cum again. Please- want it so bad, want your cock inside of me,” the neediness in her tone sent JJ into a frenzy. No imagination could come close to the real thing. His neck shot forward, their lips molding together in a passionate kiss. They moved in sync while JJ’s hand slid down, pulling at the strings of her dress to undo the knot in a swift move. His hand skimmed further down, kneading and squeezing every inch of her skin from her curves to her ass.

She was mewling in his mouth, every caress weakening her. It was hard to feel guilty with the way the rough pads of his fingers ran across her scorching hot skin. Her hands moved to unbutton his shorts falling prey to her desires. “Need it J,” the sincerity is what snapped him back into action.

JJ untangled their bodies to open the Twinkie, taking her hand so that she was standing in front of him and could go in first. Without saying it, he placed his palm at the center of her back. A soft push let her know to get onto all fours on the soft fabric of the seats. The van door slammed shut behind them before he was shoving his clothes off with urgency. A thought lit up like a light bulb inside his head as he finished undressing.

“If you want me to give you what needy sluts like you deserve, you need to answer my question,” JJ stated seriously as his hands tucked under the top of her dress. Now with the strap off, he was able to peel off the dress from top to bottom. The panties that had only been able to reach her mid thigh before JJ lost it, slipped off alongside the dress. Confusion settled into (Y/N)’s expression. Her right cheek was pressed into the seat, only getting a small glimpse of JJ’s face. “I’ll answer anything JJ please,” the apprehension as to what the question could be was drowned out by the throbbing between her legs. The anticipation was eating her alive and he was on an unholy plight to push every single one of her buttons.

JJ smirked devilishly while leaning down to press his bare chest against her back. His cock was standing up, solid from days of built up tension. He slid between her wet folds, earning moans from the both of them. “What did you do that made John B so mad?” He whispered into her ear before resting his forehead on the back of her head. His lips ghosted over the skin at the nape of her neck sending chills down her spine. It took a moment for her to put together what he was saying. The realization dawned on her face, unable to admit what he wanted to hear. JJ’s suspicion grew with the way her breathing stuttered.

“Doesn’t matter J, just fuck me,” she attempted to sway him away from the topic but being told to ignore it only made him more persistent. “Ah, ah,” he tsked in a disapproving tone. JJ moved his hips to continue teasing her, gradually sliding between her lips and get himself wet with all her juices. He’d move so far down that his tip would just barely nudge against her hole and then proceed to slide back. His hands disappeared around (Y/N)’s sides, grabbing hold of her breasts and massaging them roughly. His fingertips found her already hardened nipples, tugging and pulling to get his point across. “You want me to fuck your tight cunt? You’re gonna have to tell me sweet girl. Because I’ll walk away right now.”

(Y/N) whined in frustration. JJ’s attempts to make her comply worked all to well. Her heart was racing with impatience and every nerve ending was shot. She could feel just how long and big he was. It made her tighten pathetically around nothing. She wanted to cry to express the distress she was feeling. His hands played at her nipples, fogging her mind up even further. A high pitched noise waved the white flag as she gave in to his attack. The risk of JJ leaving right now outweighed the shitstorm that inevitably followed the truth. “I flirted with you Sunday night.”

JJ paused, his hope flourishing into fact. What JJ had deemed a concocted idea was in fact more than just a sexually fueled imagination.

(Y/N) walked into the kitchen, hair wet from a recent shower. Despite an exhausting day surfing at the beach, she still managed to walk with a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. Her attitude was always contagious and distracting. “Hey J, not coming out for the movie?” she questioned, digging into the freezer. All the Pogues were camped out in the living room to watch a new movie while JJ was perched on the counter top with a beer in hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair, watching as she pulled out the last chocolate fudge bar which halted his answer. His eyebrow raised as she whirled around to him. She removed the plastic casing with no rush in the world, before wrapping her plump lips around the bar. JJ’s blue eyes trailed downwards, captivated by the way she bobbed her head up and down in such a suggestive way. Her question was long forgotten with a lick of his dry lips.

“That’s my bar,” JJ stated avoiding a comment on the affect her actions were having on him. He was also technically correct. Nobody else ate the fudge bars except for him. Although, he had been noticing that he was reaching the end of the box quicker than normal. Apparently he discovered the culprit. It was hard to actually take it seriously though, not when he could swear there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Like she purposefully put on a show for him.

(Y/N) simply tilted her head to side biting her bottom lip. “And what are you going to do about it?” The question was innocent. Yet it sounded so risqué. Like she was tempting him to take it further than that. His muscles twitched to grab her right there. But John B clearing his throat from the kitchen entrance snapped JJ out of whatever that was.

He was too consumed by her lips, her doe eyes, the way her cheeks hollowed around the bar, all of it. JJ had barely noticed John B in that moment. The thought that he might’ve heard or seen anything didn’t even cross JJ’s mind. He just quickly got up and rushed past them to the living room. He had written the whole thing off. It was easier to convince himself that he had probably imagined the whole thing rather than feeding into a delusion where she had actually teased him.

JJ had been so right though. He had read her cues perfectly. Not only had she been flirting with him, but it was also the reason that John B was infuriated. The more he dwelled on the thought, the more his heart thumped louder. They all joked and flirted amongst themselves, John B did with Kie. It was all harmless. So John B getting mad at this moment meant he felt threatened by JJ. Like (Y/N) had given him a reason to worry.

The admission made something snap inside of JJ. A flood of emotions surged forward as the dam he had built to contain them collapsed under the strength of her honesty. He quickly removed his hands from her body to lift himself up. As promised, JJ lined himself up with her slick entrance. Any desire to see her down on her knees would have to be put on hold for next time. There was no way he could put this off any longer. He took just a second to nudge his tip passed the barrier and back to hear the starved whimper that she was unable to hold in. Finding sick pleasure in her shameless need for him. “Please JJ.” Without warning, right after she spoke, he slammed his hips forward. He forget everything except the feeling of being enveloped by velvety tight walls. A loud moan mixed in with a deep groan could be heard from outside the van. He reached deep into her like this, taking her breath away.

The grip around his cock could make him pass out. He muttered an inaudible cuss word, not giving her a second to adjust. JJ pulled out to the tip before shoving himself back inside her and repeating the motion until it grew into a consistent pace. (Y/N) was a broken record of moans and pleas. With every thrust her hips would rut back into him. The anticipation had been replaced with numbing pleasure. Her eyes couldn’t focus on a single thing, completely overwhelmed. His fingers tangled into her hair, shoving her further into the seat.

JJ used the new support to deepen and harden his pace. His hips were jolting into her and sending her forward each time. JJ was failing to hold back, milking every noise out of her sweet lips. The vibrator that was still in the pocket of his shorts that were now located on the floor began to vibrate loudly. JJ smirked viciously, digging into her hip for assistance to ram into her, admiring the way her swollen pussy swallowed his cock in between them. “Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock,” JJ coed before his breath hitched at the tight squeeze his words evoked.

It shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did but she couldn’t help it. Her body reacted before she could. His lewd words reached kinks (Y/N) didn’t even know existed within her. She cried out as his balls slapped against her clit, shooting pangs of intense pleasure up her body. Her legs would be giving out soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep this up. Feeling (Y/N)’s end approaching, JJ fisted her hair and pulled her up against his chest with ease. “Who owns your pretty pussy now (Y/N)?” he panted, his hot breath fanning over the back of her neck at the new proximity.

(Y/N) moaned out loudly as he pounded back into her in this new position. He broke her train of thought before she even had a chance to think of a reply. The hand at her hip smoothed upward, pausing to grope her boob roughly. Her back arched in response with a sharp gasp before he finally landed on her throat. JJ squeezed, digging his fingers into her pressure point and loosening it to remind her to speak. “You JJ. JJ Maybank owns me and my pussy,” (Y/N) yelped hand moving to grip onto the seat while the other reached back into JJ’s blonde locks. JJ growled, increasing his pace when she jumped forward at a certain shift in angle.

Her eyes were glazing over as the fingers at her neck tightened. Their bodies molded together in a matching rhythm. Her hips jutted down to meet every single one of his upward strokes. JJ was using the grip on her neck to lift and slam her back into him. The filthy sounds of their bodies smacking together was the only thing heard in the foggy van. “So fucking tight,” JJ mutters, lips moving to suck a hickey into the back of her neck. Now that he had discovered how close she was with the way her body quivered in his grasp, he wrecked his way inside of her.

Knowing it was a bad idea, (Y/N)‘s head had still tilted to allow him room to mark her. She was a mess of endless mewls and echoed moans, too dazed by the way he was manhandling her. Her end was quickly building, eyes rolling as she fell back onto the curve of his shoulder. His hand left her hair to explore down the middle of her chest. He trailed a finger down her stomach before finally reaching the top of her pussy. His hand cupped her, fingers wrapping around her opening that was still engulfed by his twitching cock. He palmed at her clit, eliciting a loud cry from (Y/N).

“Beg me to make you cum like he can’t,” JJ slowed his hand to show he’d stop in a scarily calm way, making tears spill over from how hopeless she felt. At this point (Y/N) needed the sweet relief as much she needed oxygen in her lungs. “You already made me cum harder than he ever has-,” her breath caught as he dug his palm into her swollen clit at the confession, “I’m all yours JJ- please make me cum.” That was all he needed to apply just enough pressure to leave (Y/N) sputtering. Her eyes went black as the ferocity of her orgasm left her seeing stars. Her entire body writhed from the intensity. JJ groaned at the way her walls tightened around him. She was drifting into clouds of bliss while riding out her high.

It all encouraged him further to his own end. He removed his hand from her beyond sensitive clit to lay her down fully onto her stomach. JJ’s back stayed pressed against her, not slipping out in the slightest bit. With the new position, her walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t refrain from snapping his hips up to bring the unrelenting speed back to life. This time he was chasing his own end, using her warm hole to get himself off. (Y/N) was incoherent under him, utterly fucked out. “That’s it take it,” his hips lost rhythm, “take all my cum,” jerking upwards desperately. He moaned loudly into her ear, thick ropes of his cum painting her insides.

She shuddered feeling him stop as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing with every drop her clenching pussy squeezed out. They were both panting, the temperature in the van was absurdly high. His sweaty body gave out, hiding her naked one under his. She found the weight of it comforting in her post orgasmic fog. It took her a few minutes to properly come back. JJ had leaned up now, pressing electrifying open-mouthed kisses against the dips of her upper back. His hips shifted a little, earning a broken moan from the girl below him.

When he began to move, she leaned back, not wanting to end the fantasy bubble they had created. JJ shushed her with a small smack to her ass that made her jump. Both of them groaned at the sudden movement and he gripped the redden skin where his hand had just spanked. His other hand had vanished under the seat, reaching for vibrator that was still going off wildly. Her pussy spasmed in fear of the vibration inside of her again after the fucking he had just put her through. “Fuck Princess,” JJ hissed almost pinching her ass from the sensitivity.

The one act of kindness JJ had showed (Y/N), was flicking the manual switch to off on the device.

His fingers looped around the end of it, sitting up carefully.

Her ears perked up as the vibrating came to a stop. “JJ what are you doing?” (Y/N)’s shaky, fucked out voice rang through the silence. JJ felt no need to respond pulling out in one swift go. The feeling of emptiness didn’t settle because he was pumping the vibrator back into her, refusing to let any of the evidence vanish. Her muscles tightened, enduring the continued stimulation with a small puff.

“As much as I want to watch my cum drip out of your wrecked cunt..,” JJ’s voice drifted off as his blue irises dropped to the round curve of her ass. He was mesmerized by her worn out body. The marks he had left were giving in to his ego. His hand tenderly rubbed the skin down her back and squeezed at her butt. He’ll never get enough of the feeling.

“You’re gonna keep this vibrator in until John B undresses you at The Chateau. He’s gonna think he’s won, having made you cum in front of me, out of my reach. Then he’s gonna spread your bruised thighs. Shit he’ll even wonder why the vibrator could possibly be turned off. Then when he pulls it out, all of my cum is gonna drip out of his girls pussy for him.”

*****

Read Part 2 here

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please like, comment, or reblog💕

There will probably be 4 or 5 parts to this. If you’d like to be added to the taglist and kept up to date with this mini-series please comment below🫶🏼

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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak - Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: The long-awaited update is here!!!!!

This chapter is dedicated to @madcatlady for the hilarious ask. It honestly made me laugh 😂😂 I really wanted to make this more of an enemies to lovers (I still can) but soft Paul makes me too happy. Also, the ending for this was gonna be different but I made it into the next chapter If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

(Y/N) had gone to bed with anger flowing through her veins. It made her burn up with rage, slowly bubbling up to the surface.

Bella had always been unconsciously selfish in her sister’s opinion. At least, she hoped it was unconscious. To (Y/N), her sister always found a way to make every situation about herself, and everyone allowed it. Her heartbreak had taken over her father’s life, threatened to take over their mother’s, and was slowly snaking its hands around hers. But Bella would not become the center of her life, she could not.

But the next morning, (Y/N)’s anger had seemingly dissipated. Even if Bella believed the world revolved around her, (Y/N) would not let hers do so. At the end of the day, it was Christmas – a day of happiness and forgiveness. She would enjoy it with or without her sister.

The smell of slightly burnt coffee filled her nostrils before she had opened her eyes and she knew her father was already up. Her excitement for the day was again replenished and she readied herself for a long afternoon. It was her first holiday back in the city of Forks, and the first Christmas she’d have in the town. Nothing would stand in the way of a good day.

“Morning, dad,” (Y/N) smiled at the flustered man. He had taken a sip of the scalding coffee. Not only did he burn his tongue, but he had to taste the awful batch. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, merry Christmas, honey. I really am a menace in the kitchen.”

“Thankfully not on the grill,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you sit while I make a new batch and a light breakfast?”

“I guess I’m still not used to having you girls here,” he sighed. “Normally I’d just go down to the diner and get some food there. And now that Bella’s like… like that, I’ve had to take care of the food again.”

“Well, I’m here now. So don’t worry about that,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’ll just take it one day at a time and hope for the best. It’s the only thing we can do.”

“Then we should get ready soon to go over to Billy’s house,” Charlie responded, resigned. “Were you able to at least convince Bella to come?”

“No. She’s as stubborn as ever.”

“I really hoped she’d want to come. You both always enjoyed Christmas time.”

(Y/N) shrugged from the stove, the pan she shook scraping slightly the iron grates. She had hoped that, at least for this holiday, Bella would put her family first. Alas, her teenage angst took over and she was once more glued onto the swivel desk chair, overlooking the backyard. All she wanted was for her family to be together during such a special holiday – especially one that promoted togetherness. But all Bella could do or think of was the idiotic boy that had broken her heart.

"Whatever," (Y/N) spoke abruptly. “She’s the one that’s missing out. If she wants to stay at home and wallow in self-pity, so be it. We cannot let her consume every part of our lives.”

“(Y/N), she’s your sister,” Charlie said. “She’s sad and we can’t just leave her behind.”

“It’s not even for a whole day, dad. She’ll survive a couple of hours of staring out of that window,” she whined. “It’s your day off. It’s Christmas. We’re not gonna spend today trapped in the house because Bella has a bad case of the blues.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Dad,” (Y/N) said sternly. “We are gonna go to Uncle Billy’s house. We are going to celebrate Christmas. Then, we will come back home and find Bella in the same spot. But we deserve — you deserve — to put her in the back of our minds for a couple of hours and enjoy ourselves. And that’s an order, sheriff.”

“Alright, you win, (Y/N),” Charlie chuckled slightly. “And thanks again for breakfast. I promise one day I’ll get the hang of it.”

“There won’t be any need whilst I’m here, dad.”

After a small round of chitchat and the background noise of cutlery hitting the ceramic plates, the two of them left for their respective rooms to get ready for the day. Before going back downstairs, (Y/N) popped into Bella’s room where she was not surprised to see her sister sat staring out her window.

Her sister looked pitiful. Chair bound and frail. Heartbreak in the simplest definition. There was not a single trace of the girl she had grown up with. There was a Bella before Edward and the one that was left barely counted as a person.

(Y/N) entered the room, a wrapped present in her hands. She sauntered towed her sister, unsure of what Bella’s reaction — or lack thereof— would be.

“Hey, Bells,” she spoke softly, unsure of where they stood after the conversation they had the night before. “I got you this cause, after all, it is Christmas. I know you don’t want to come with us, but I still wanted to get you something. You can open it, or not. It’s really up to you. But, merry Christmas, sis.”

Silence seemed to be the prevailing answer.

“So, is she finally gonna come?” Charlie asked as (Y/N) exited Bella’s room. “Did she have a change of heart?”

“Nope,” she answered – she wasn’t a miracle worker. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna have a good time. Now, let’s go.”

As they drove down the streets to the reservation, Charlie and (Y/N) sang along badly to Christmas tunes. A white scenery blurred past them as they headed through the snow-covered streets of Forks, putting the older Swan daughter to the back of their mind. The air felt lighter, a weight lifted off their shoulders. They both felt like they could breathe, even if just for a little bit.

The red barn-like house came into view before they had realized that Forks was far behind them. As the truck rolled to a stop, Billy and Jake exited the house to greet their guests. A playful smile played on Jacob’s face when he saw his new girlfriend. A smile that Charlie Swan did not like.

“Now, (Y/N), I know that you two are now sort of together. But I don’t wanna see all that lovey-dovey stuff between you.”

“Dad,” she chuckled.

“No, seriously, (Y/N). I don’t wanna see it.”

“So, it’s okay as long as you don’t see it? Got it.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

“Alright, dad. I’ll keep it low-key for you.”

With another giggle, (Y/N) stepped out of the cruiser, her hands packed with a bag filled with presents and a six-pack of beer. And from the back of the car, Charlie pulled the trays of food they had prepared.

“Here, let me help,” Jake told Charlie, grabbing hold of two of the four trays he was carrying.

Charlie tried his best to hide his feelings of slight anger toward the boy. He’d known him since he was a baby but seeing him get so close to his daughter unnerved him. Still, he answered, “Yeah, thanks, Jake.”

“Hey, Jake,” (Y/N) smiled, kissing Jake’s cheek.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Alright you two, keep it moving,” Charlie grumbled. “And, again, I don’t wanna see any funny stuff between you.”

He walked in front of them, saying hi to Billy as he walked into the house to put the trays down. Everyone could notice the annoyance on his face. As much as he loved Jake, it was one thing for him to be his best friend’s son; it was another for him to date his youngest daughter.

“How’ve you been, Billy?” (Y/N) asked as she made her way into the house and the man rolled inside.

“Very good, (Y/N),” he smiled. “So, Jake and you, when did that happen?”

She chuckled in response. “It started at the bonfire, but it’s been a long time coming. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, between you and me, you’ve always been my favorite of Charlie’s youngest daughters.”

“It’d be weird if I wasn’t.”

“I truly hope this union is of benefit to the both of you,” Billy said, placing a comforting hand on her forearm. “If it is meant to be, I’m sure your father will come around sooner or later.”

“Waiting for sooner rather than later,” she sighed. “It’s kind of hard to see where this is going when dad is breathing down our necks every time we’re in the same room.”

“He means well,” he chuckled. “Charlie’s very new to this whole parenting teenagers thing. It’s hard to see your kids grow up so quickly. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep him by the barbecue as much as I can so you two can have some alone time.”

“Thanks, uncle Billy.”

In her happiness, (Y/N) missed Billy’s knowing gaze. He knew something neither of them did. Deep down, he knew the pair would not last long – there were other forces in play. But if this is what they wanted, for now, he would never interfere. Young love was hard to come by if that’s what this was.

They entered the kitchen and laughed as they witnessed Jacob’s pleading face. Charlie had not let down his menacing stare as he prepped the meat they would cook. Though his hands worked on the food, his eyes glared at the boy relentlessly.

“Hey, Charlie, got the grill up and running already,” Billy announced. “Why don’t we put this thing to cook already?”

“But I’m not done yet.”

“I think you are,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

Charlie grumbled as he left through the backdoor with Billy and back into the snow, leaving the two teenagers on their own. With a smile of mischief, Jake and (Y/N) crossed the small kitchen and were finally able to engage in a hello kiss.

“Hey,” she whispered as they parted from each other.

“Hey, back,” Jacob chuckled. “Your dad was close to shooting me there.”

“Well, you did kiss his youngest daughter in front of him,” (Y/N) teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you’re the first boyfriend I’ve introduced to him. Look how well that turned out for Bella.”

“But you’re not Bella,” he said. “And I’m not Edward.”

“That is very correct,” she laughed before pecking his lips. “You’re way better.”

“You could say that again,” Jake grinned. “Also, how many boyfriends didn’t make the cut?”

“Why? Are you jealous, Jake?”

“Just want to know what I’m up against.”

“Believe me, none of them match up to you.”

Suddenly, the sound of a screen door startled them apart. Charlie walked in, the angry scowl still on his face. He muttered under his breath as he opened the drawers in the kitchen, finally finding tongs. And as he left once more, he shot them another glare.

The pair couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as they watched Charlie’s figure disappear through the door. They understood where the father was coming from. Opening himself to having another daughter get her heart broken was too much for a technically “new” father.

But as much as they understood him, it didn’t mean they would try too hard to make him comfortable. They were young, a little reckless, and very excited to be in a relationship – at least (Y/N) was.

As the adults chatted outside, cooking the meat and drinking beers, Jake and (Y/N) gravitated toward the couch, cuddling on the seat. The fireplace was on and the radio was set on a jazz station, playing a song neither of them knew.

“So,” (Y/N) spoke up, looking at Jacob from his chest. “I know we said we wouldn’t do gifts, but I got you something.”

“(Y/N), you promised,” he chuckled. “Although, I will admit I also got you a little something as well. You go first.”

(Y/N) stood up and went to get the wrapped gift she had placed behind the tree. She was excited. It was their first Christmas together ever, and more importantly, their first as a couple. She had dreamed of this moment since they were kids.

Jake followed behind, grabbing the bag he had packed his gift into. He was sure they had both gotten each other small things. They hadn’t been together for that long and there wasn’t anything riding in the presents.

“So, I know you’ve been saying for a while that you needed these for a while, and they were very hard to get.”

Jacob’s eyes were wide in surprise as he unwrapped the box in his hands. (Y/N) had gotten him a pair of Timberland boots with a steel toe. He had dropped one too many tools onto his foot whilst working on cars and he was in desperate need of these shoes.

“Wow, (Y/N)! This must have put a dent in your wallet.”

“It’s worth it,” she smiled into the hug he gave her.

“Well, here’s yours,” he tried to pull a smile, but he knew it wouldn’t even compare. “It’s not as good, but I didn’t have much time.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) responded. She knew whatever he had gotten her would be meaningful and caring, a testament to who he was. And she was very confident in it until she finally saw it. “A… candle.”

“It’s got a nice smell,” Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “I thought you’d like the smell… I know. It sucks.”

“No. It’s, um, it’s nice.” (Y/N) was trying to hide her disappointment. She’d seen this type of candle. They sold them at the gas stations in the area as passersby souvenirs. “I’ll put it by my bed and I’ll think about you every time I light it. I love it. Thanks.”

“And I will basically live in these boots,” he boasted. “I love them.”

“I’m glad.”

It was hard for (Y/N) to keep her dismay at bay. She smiled, talked, and laughed through dinner, but it was hard. Jacob could have gotten the candle that morning – zero thought and preparation had gone into the gift. She would have preferred he stuck to nothing. Even that would have been better since he would have kept the promise.

Instead, she was left with a gas station candle that smelled like apples that had been stuffed into a red bag. She was allergic to apples. They made her throat itch and her eyes swell, it had been years since she had even smelled one. Though thankfully, this one was laced with a fake fruit smell, she couldn’t wait to store it in the deepest corners of her closet.

Whilst they were enjoying the pumpkin pie she had made, a knock resounded through the door. The four people in attendance stared at each other.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Charlie asked, wiping off the whipped cream that had accumulated on his mustache. “Though it’d be just us tonight.”

“We aren’t,” Billy responded. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“I’ll check who it is,” (Y/N) offered, quickly standing. “It’s probably a tourist that got lost. You guys carry on.”

As the men went on with their conversation, (Y/N) went to see who was at the door. It was Christmas night, whilst it was snowing. If it was a tourist, they were crazy to be out at that time.

But when she opened the door, she was surprised that not only was it not a tourist, but it was Paul Lahote standing there in shorts and a tank top. His hair was dusted with white snowflake specs, the ones on his skin melting away right after contact.

(Y/N) was quick to close the door behind her. If there was anything she didn’t want it was for Jake and Paul to get into an altercation with her father and Billy around.

“Paul,” she chuckled as she pulled her jacket closer to her body. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was actually hoping to run into you here,” he responded. “This may sound weird, but I, uh I got you something.”

He handed her a rectangular box beautifully wrapped in red metallic paper with a white bow for decoration. She could tell he had taken his time to wrap the present – or had asked someone skilled to do it for him. By the cover alone she knew he had put care into the present.

“Can I open it now?”

“Please,” he smiled. “Go ahead.”

Carefully, she undid the paper, not wanting to even rip it, and she pulled a long box from inside. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside a gorgeously crafted dreamcatcher, with cream feathers and colorful beads rested. Attached to the rim, a wooden wolf totem was attached. It was simple, it was thoughtful, it was beautiful.

“Oh, Paul, it’s stunning,” she said. “But you didn’t have to. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I just saw it at a local shop, and it reminded me of you. The wolf totem, it’s for protection. The wolf is supposed to help you manifestmore protection, better instincts, and stronger relationships in your life.”

“Seriously, Paul, it’s beautiful.”

Without knowing it, she was beaming. The surge of happiness that grew inside her was unfathomable, and she found herself wrapping him in a hug. This stranger had gotten her a more thoughtful gift than her boyfriend and friend.

Paul stiffened at first, surprised at the sudden show of affection. But instantly melted into her embrace, wrapping his own arms around her.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he smiled to himself. But the moment was cut short. From far inside the woods, a wolf called out to his pack, saying it was time to change shifts. “Uh, that was all. I just wanted to give you this. I should be heading back home now.”

“Oh.” Was she disappointed? “Then, I promise one day I’ll repay the favor.”

“There’s really no need.”

“I insist,” she said with a bright smile. “Seriously, Paul. This actually means a lot. Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Paul smiled, running his hand through the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around. And, Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

Before she could answer him, Paul seemed to vanish. (Y/N) couldn’t see his body anywhere close. So, she spoke to the air, “Merry Christmas, Paul.”

(Y/N) was quick to hide the gift in the car, under her seat. If she went back into the house with it, she was sure it would only cause discord with Jacob and her father. It was better if neither of them knew about one of the best gifts anyone had ever gotten her.

“Who was it?” Charlie called out when he saw his daughter walking back into the house. “You were out there for some time.”

“Oh, just a couple of tourists that got lost leaving the rez.”

“Tourists?” Jacob questioned. “Today of all days?”

“It was a newlywed couple, on a honeymoon road trip.”

“Mmm, young love,” Billy smiled toward (Y/N). It made her question if he had seen who she was actually speaking to. “What a great gift it is.”

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midwestmade29 · 8 months

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‼️UPDATED 10/7/23 🙂‼️

🔥PART 1🔥

Well, a *slight* change in plans about my spicy little number I wrote. I'm still needing to edit a few parts towards the end of it, and I'll take care of that as soon as I can. BUT the good news is I can share what I do have ready! Please keep in mind that I am not a professional writer and that I am in no way perfect. Be kind and gentle with me as I dive in head first…

*Constructive criticism and advice is always welcome! Please let me know if there’s something I should add to the following disclaimers (to make my post more informative or reader friendly) or about anything else that comes to mind*

If you are not at least 18 years old or older, I implore you to keep scrolling.

There is sexual content so it is NSFW or minors.

It is written from the POV of a female and has dialogue between her and Christian Cage.

Dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), sexual intercourse, dominant male, unprotected sex.

Word count for Part 1: 965

“They say all good boys go to Heaven, but bad boys bring Heaven to you…”

I peeled myself off the couch and made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water before heading upstairs to get ready for bed. Christian still wasn’t home yet from his late-night workout that some of the AEW guys had invited him to join last minute. I tried my best to stay up to see him, but my eyelids felt so heavy. We both knew today was going to be a busy day for each of us and I hated not being able to see him, but I just couldn’t stay up any longer. We were able to talk sporadically throughout the day and FaceTimed each other when there was a free moment during the afternoon. The sound of his sexy voice and the sight of his bright smile always lit me up inside.

I made it to our bedroom and flipped on the light switch. I undressed myself down to my panties and grabbed one of Christian’s wrestling shirts out of the dresser, pulled it down over my head and let it slide down my body before resting on my thighs. Once my teeth were brushed, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to check the time, and 10:48pm lit up on the screen. I set my alarm and started to clear notifications when suddenly I felt a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around me from behind.

I jumped from being startled but relaxed instantly when I inhaled a familiar scent. “Hey baby.” Christian spoke softly. I lifted my arm up and placed it behind his neck, brushing my fingers through the base of his hairline, causing Christian to groan in approval. Our bodies were flush against one another as we reveled in our embrace. Christian nuzzled his face into my neck while his hands began roaming over my midsection. “Mmm, I missed you today. I'm sorry I'm home so late, I hate it when our schedules clash like this. My shirt looks good on you by the way…”

The back of my head rested on his chest as Christian’s hands were toying with the bottom hem of my shirt, occasionally slipping a finger or two beneath the top of my panty line, tracing along the lace. Goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, letting Christian know how easily and quickly my body was responding to him. He released me from his arms, and I turned around. His hand instantly gripped my jaw and held my head in place. He tilted my head up so we made eye contact, and I could see the lust blazing in his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze was intense, so I tried to turn my head, but that only caused him to grip my jaw more firmly. A whimper escaped my lips and a cheeky smile spread across Christian’s face. He had me right where he wanted me. With his free arm, he wrapped it around my waist and pulled me closer, so our bodies were flush once again. I could feel his arousal through his sweats pressing against my core and fuck did it feel good. “I’ve been thinking about those pretty pink lips of yours all day and that sweet little mouth wrapped around my cock.”

My eyes widened and my cheeks were on fire from his boldness as he continued. “Are you going to be my good girl tonight? Let me fuck you however I please? I want to hear you scream my name as I pound your tight pussy into the mattress.” I swallowed hard but nodded “yes.” Suddenly I was no longer tired but felt so hungry. Hungry for something other than food to satisfy my appetite. I wanted whatever he was about to feed me.

Christian released my jaw and lifted me into his arms and took a few steps until my back hit the wall. He pinned me there with his hips, and my legs wrapped around his waist, causing me to gasp at the pressure of his hard length against my panties. Our lips crashed against each other, and it was game on from there. Christian parted my lips with his tongue, and I happily granted him access. My hands tugged his hair causing him to curse under his breath. I took his bottom lip in-between my teeth and bit down, just hard enough to feel his cock twitch against me. His trail of kisses left a path of fire in their wake as he bit, sucked, licked, and kissed his way around my jawline to the nape of my neck. The roughness of his beard against my soft skin created the most delicious sensation that was driving me wild. I couldn’t help but moan as my core began to ache for this man. I was beyond ready to give him whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Christian…please…” I begged softly. My plea caused him to pull himself back from me, allowing me to slide down the wall until my feet touched the floor. Still keeping me pinned in place, he lowered his head and looked deeply into my darkened eyes . “What is it baby? What do you want?” he whispered seductively. My breathing started to accelerate, and my brain scrambled to find the right words to say. He knew exactly what I wanted, but he was enjoying making me squirm. “Say it baby. I need to hear you say how much you want my hard cock in your wet pussy.” My tongue glided over my bottom lip at the thought of Christian thrusting himself inside of me. Somehow the wires in my brain finally connected and I was able to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I want you. Every single inch. Please, fuck me Christian. I need you inside of me.” He let out a growl from deep down inside of him. “That’s what I thought.”

(To be continued...)

#all elite wrestling #aew #christian cage #jay reso #captain charisma #instantclassic #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #Christian cage smut #headcanon #Christian cage headcanon #christian4peeps #christian cage fanfic

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knottyk · 3 years

Text

Hello and welcome! 🧙🏻‍♀️

This is my blog's masterlist, updated every time I post a fic. I'll probably write for other characters I meet along the way but for now, these are the characters/fandom I write for. My fixations on characters all come and go. It’s a never ending cycle which I hope you won’t hold against me, I’m only human. This page hold a collection of characters I love(d) most that I’m assuming you do too.

Feel free to submit requests or leave feedback, constructive criticism is welcome!! I hope you enjoy your time here ♡ (I’m a yapper, I realize that now.)

last update: 25/11/2022

Something About Them (T.H!Peter) | 1.3k

Y/N is alone during New Year's Eve. Peter climbs into the wrong window. Ned wants pizza.

Under the Same Sun (TASM!Peter) | 2.3k

Peter had his fair chance at love, all ending in death. He swore never to love again until he meets Y/N from another universe.

Hypothetically (TASM!Peter) | ~400

Peter teases Y/N who's extremely (and ironically) afraid of spiders.

The Night is Young (TASM!Peter) | ~900

Y/N gets ditched at prom and Peter is on to the rescue.

It's On (TASM!Peter x GN!Reader) | blurb

You and Peter target each other on a competitive game of laser tag.

Cheeky Girl | ~500

Y/N and George planned to meet at the library to study but they have other ideas.

Not What It Looks Like | 1.4k

Y/N and George gets caught in a compromising position inside an old broom closet.

One Step, Two Steps | 1.8k

Y/N and George has a complicated and undefined relationship until Y/N has had enough and decides that she’s not fit to keep playing their dangerous game.

Potioned | 1.7k

George tries to strike Y/N with a love potion but she doesn’t seem to be affected.

Princess and the Frog (1) & (2) | 1.2k

Y/N and George tests out a mystery product from Fred which turned them into frogs.

Rhythm of Our Own | ~300

Y/N forces George to dance.

Can't Fight This Feeling - Steve x Y/N x Eddie | 1.9k

The group went on an overnight beach trip where Y/N and Steve found themselves in an argument. A sing-off leads to a choir performance and Y/N catches the eyes of the one and only Eddie Munson. (no spoilers!! s1-4)

Caught in the Act - Eddie x Henderson!Reader | 1.3k

Eddie cancels the campaign and Dustin, along with Mike and Lucas, wants to know what is so important to tear the strict Dungeon Master away from his beloved club.

A Gentle Kiss - Eddie x Y/N x Platonic!Steve

Y/N deals with the aftermath of the events in the Upside Down. (s4 spoilers)

Golden Slumbers - Eddie x GN!Reader | blurb

Eddie falls asleep on reader’s chest.

Home - Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader | 1.8k

You received a call from Eddie during the kids’ bath time, telling you he won’t make it home from tour. That afternoon, you discovered that he lied in the sweetest way.

It Can Wait - Eddie x Fem!Reader | 1.1k

You and Eddie spend a rainy morning together. Eddie is a silly goose who you can’t help but tolerate.

Now, Kiss! - Eddie x Fem!Reader | 2.4k

You definitely and most certainly do not want to kiss Eddie freaking Munson… do you?

Sweet Baby - Eddie x GN!Reader | 1.1k

Eddie’s gigs consist of four to five drunks, too smashed to even retain his sound. Then, there’s you. His sweet, sweet baby

Thunderclouds (1) (2)- Eddie x Lawyer!Fem!Reader | 7.7k {📮 DISCONTINUED}

High school relationships were never meant to last so when Eddie decided he wants to settle, you decide to leave. Ten summers pass and you reunite in the most unusual way; Eddie being a suspect in murder and you, his defense lawyer.

requests:

you and eddie talk about your future kids | blurb (sfw)

ava and hunter watching eddie perform | blurb (fluff)

others:

Neon Pages - Platonic!Steddie x non-interactive!fem!reader | blurb

Eddie has never been one for glossy neon magazines. So color Steve surprised when he sees him with one.

All of You - Steve Harrington x GN!Reader | 1.1k

Steve is taking too long in the bathroom, longer than usual. You grow worried over time and decide to check on him but you see something he’s been afraid of showing you.

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Note

Hi, I hope you're having a great day! I was wondering if you could write something for Hotch where the reader is one of the younger members and he always wants to protect her. She messes up on a case and Strauss yells at her and she ends up crying and Hotch takes care of her. Thank you so much, and it is okay if you don't want to write it!

Hi! i’m so sorry it took me awhile to write your piece but i hope this is worth it! and i also changed it a bit so i hope you don’t mind, but if you have any specific ideas just let me know! anyways thank you so much for requesting and waiting! much love!

This is an Aaron Hotchner x SA!Reader Blurb.

Warnings : Fluffs, angst, Mean!Strauss, Hotch is like your caregiver in a professional way like he guides you through the cases and help you etc because you’re new and young, Mention of Guns, Blood, Supportive!BAU, Mental disorder, and Abductions.

this blurb also have a special meaning to me since i’m diagnosed with the same Disorder the unsub has in this so i’m sorry if the descriptions are a bit too detailed. i still hope you like it and give me feedbacks or constructive criticisms thank you for reading❤️

———————

Being the youngest in every field has its own disadvantages, when you were at school, being the youngest would get you picked at, but you shut them up quickly with your bravery. When you were in college, most people doubted you even your professors, but you also managed to make them stare in awe when you became the top student of your criminal psychology class. When you were training in the academy, many underestimate you, but again— you came out on top, trainee with the highest score amongst others. So you never thought about being the youngest much,

No, not until you actually work— by work i mean becoming a part of BAU, Special Agent Y/n Y/l/n. It was easy at first, you received such a warm welcome from your new teammates that you already thought that this is going to be easy enough. The first time you met them were at the bullpen, they were all lounging and talking about a recent case as you stepped in nervously yet you put a stern smile. The first person who approached you was the wonderful Miss Penelope Garcia, who happens to be your friend, and then you shook hands with David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, and got a flirty remark from none other than Derek Morgan— who you scoffed at and said “not going to work on me pal, Garcia has told me aaaall about it” which drew laughter.

Your assignments were quite easy at first, you were always the one to be confident, top of your class and all— so on your first day you got your first assignment with the team, a case in Virginia. You were told to follow Agent Hotchner, and you have to be honest that it couldn’t be any more easier for you. He showed you the ropes, how to analyze certain behaviors, even let you interview the family alone. He made you feel safe and comfortable to do this job, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Now that you’ve gotten to several cases, you’ve felt like you earned your place here, not just as the new girl, but a profiler, an agent, and you couldn’t be more prouder— and you can’t help but to thank Aaron for it, he always guides you through all the horrible things that you just feel content to work on cases with him. Your teammates joked about it sometimes, saying how close you two have gotten, they noticed how Hotch never raised his voice with you, not once, it’s either you’re that good or as Prentiss likes to call it “He has a soft spot for you (Y/n)”

But not all paths are smooth paths, it was sunday afternoon, you were lounging with Emily, Garcia, and Sergio when you heard the call coming from Garcia’s phone. Upon seeing “HOTCHER” as the called id, you and Prentiss sigh deeply before preparing your go bag not even bothering for Garcia to finish the phone call.

Turns out it was a child abduction case, and the first thing to note about this is that time is of the essence and every second counts. The first abduction started in Virginia a month ago, where it was handled by the local police— but then the same type of M.O and Victimology appeared in some abduction cases all over the country, the most recent one is Los Angeles. So off to LA you goes with the team, only thing different this time is that JJ and Hotch was staying behind to talk to the police in Virginia—it’s your first ever case without his guidance and you haven’t decided if you like it or hate it.

———————————

12 hours into the abduction, and Y/n has messed up bad, bad enough that it put her own life in jeopardy. Y/n had gone to follow a lead, that she received from the hotline tip, she debated at first.. on telling the others about the call she received, all her training would told her to tell someone, you can’t go alone but the caller insist that you go alone. Something about this man is not right, you can feel it in your guts. But you know that if you were about to tell the others- they wouldn’t let you pursue, not because you’re incapable but because its not right to go alone, but you took the risk to save these children— the caller did mentioned you only have 10 minutes to drive to his address and if you don’t show up alone, the children will be killed— and you can’t let that happen. So you told the tip responder that you have told your team and that you’re under pursue before sprinting out of the LAPD.

When the team realized that Y/n was gone, it was an hour after she actually left. The second they found out about her whereabouts, they rushed to the location— already hoping that you and the kids are still alive. To their relief, you were found alive, but you were tied to a chair, face bloodied and its clear that you took some harsh beating. The unsub was holding one of the child, threatening to kill him.

He was a man who has Abandonment issues with severe borderline personality disorder, the reason why he abducts children is because he hated his childhood— he hated himself for being a fuck up, so he took the perfect children according to his judgment and kept them— it’s masochistic, he kept them as a reminder for himself of how worthless he is.

“Put the gun down, and let the boy go” Morgan’s voice rang through the abandoned building, causing the unsub to panic and move backwards “No! stay there! c-come any closer and i’ll blow his perfect fucking face off” He snarled, before you gained all the energy you have left and speak up,

“Adam, let him go please. I know how you feel, and let me show you that you are none of those things your mind is telling you. You’re not worthless and you deserve to be loved, a- a mother’s love.. don’t you missed it? Come here, i- i can give it to you” You coughed up blood as your vision gets blurry, The team gasped as the unsub let the boy go.. all of them and kneeled next to you, gun still in hand as he untied you, then lay his head on your thighs. Your fingers shakily move, to ran through his hair, and inching to get the gun from here.

“Shh, shh Mama’s here, give me the toy.. I’ll let you play w-with it later” You said holding back the tears as he slowly handed you the loaded gun before you tossed it and the team cuffed him.

You cried hard as you fell to your knees on the floor, the last thing you heard was Prentiss’s voice calling for medic and then you black out.

——————-

Its been a few days after the incident, you’re on your way back to Quantico. Some of the bruisings are gone but there are some scars that will be there forever, and honestly you don’t worry about it all— the only thing you worry about is what your superior is going to do with you. You knew you messed up bad and it doesn’t matter that you are the reason that those kids are free, you should’ve told your team. When Emily asked you why, you said it’s just gut feeling em. And when Spencer asked you how’d you know?

you told him, that The unsub told you about his young mother, the same exact age as your age, your hair color, and around your height. Thats why he wanted you to come, and the pieces clicked, All of the hesitancy to kill, He liked the pain, not inflicting it to others if not necessary but to himself. That’s how you know. Your answer seemed to please the young doctor as he smiled and whispered a small “Great job, Agent.”

All of them were understanding on why you did it, except Morgan because he’s like your big brother but he did said something along the lines of “You’re a damn good profiler but you’re still stupid” but the worst had to come from your superior; Erin Strauss.

As soon as you landed in Quantico, Hotch was there waiting for you, then escort you to his room, where Strauss was there also. You were nervous not because you’re wrong but because you knew you could’ve done better and it’s against the regulations.

Hotch had said to you during a phone call that he “understands why you did what you did but it certainly doesnt justify it.” The way he spoke those words calmed you down up until now.. standing in front of Strauss herself.

“Agent Y/n, sit down.” You sat down in front of her with Hotch leaning against his desk, you put on a smile as you keep eye contact with her, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine, Ma’am. Thank you for asking—i’ve completed the psych evals too and-“

“What you did was reckless and stupid, Agent. You put your own life in danger as well as your teammates. You let your own ambition to lead you into this mess—“

Taken aback at her words, you quickly replied, “Excuse me Ma’am, with all due respect i never have any intention other than saving the boys from the unsub. So i don’t understand how my ‘ambition’ led me.”

“Agent, you will not interrupt me. Must i remind you that you’re an intelligent, bright, and exceptionally young with a lot of great potentials but let me ask you this, Are you too immature that your ambition on becoming the one who caught the unsub is your top priority? The Director agreed that maybe you should take another year of training to successfully complete mature so you dont make mistakes like this.” and at that your eyes brimmed with tears, How could she? how could she compared your age to how you do your job? You were trying to save the kids and you did. Your age has no connection to any of this and certainly not to your abilities. You were about to say something when Hotch stand and put a finger up signaling you to hold it.

“Ma’am I know what Y/n did is incredibly reckless but she only did that because the unsub specifically asked for her— she reminded him of his young mother, their features are the same. Agent Y/n, does know the regulations and protocols, and she knows that if she tells anyone the risk of those boys dying is greater than any other. So with all due respect Ma’am, As her direct superior in this case, i’m asking you to back up and let me handle her penalty according to my professional judgment as someone who has seen her incredible work and sacrifices.” His voice is loud, ringing on your ears like you’re the only thing that mattered. It left you speechless as he give you the tissue box and then waiting for Erin’s reply.

To your surprise she didn’t say anything before leaving his office. You broke down once again, gasping for air as you feel the pain now, the ache on your shoulder and wrists, the dull pain on your face, the cuts and bruises on your stomach. You are exhausted, and It seemed that Hotch knows it too.

He sit besides you as he gently placed your head on his shoulder, so you can cry with a shoulder to support you. You were so exhausted, that you dont even care if this is breaking any rules or protocols. You just want to save people, you just want to be with your team.

“She won’t do anything, I promise you that ill protect and guides you, so hang onto my words.” He said, rubbing the back of your neck and shoulders as you let out tiny gasps, trying to form a sentence.

“T-thank- y-you, Aaron.” is the only thing you managed to speak before the exhaustion wipes you out, the last thing you heard was his voice, “Anytime Y/n, Sleep well.”

——————

Feel free to send me blurb ideas! give this a like and reblog, thank you!

#aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fluff #insufferableblurb

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 3 years

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 11: Vows

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 11. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 10 'Ruin'. During the months after his son's disappearance, Stoick has trouble coping and finds himself lost in memories.

Warning: /

Rating: Teen and up

Characters: Stoick, Gobber, Valka, Hiccup, Fishlegs, Dagur, Astrid, Heather, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: Past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 006

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Falling Through Ice”

Whumpee: Hiccup, Stoick, Gobber, Valka

Author’s Notes: Okay, so believe it or not, I did finish this one waaay back in December. But I didn't want to post it until I finished Day 12, which then turned out to be so long I needed to divide it into two parts. Day 12 part 2 still isn't finished yet, but after much too long, I did finally have the energy to get through proofreading this one.

So there you have it, here's Day 11 at long last!

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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It’s through a call in the late morning that Stoick received the news. He was sleeping in for once, something he rarely does as he enjoys waking up early in the morning to get the most work out of a day.

That day, he slept in and it was the ringtone of the smartphone Hiccup made him get that woke him up. He grabbed it and sat up before he answered tiredly.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Haddock, sir?” He recognized the voice as belonging to that of Astrid Hofferson, his son’s girlfriend.

“Yes, lass?” He rubbed in his heavy eyes. How did sleeping in longer make him more than waking up with the sun did?

“We think something’s happened with Hiccup. We think he’s missing.”

It was news Stoick never thought he would ever get to hear and he would’ve thought it a prank, if it wasn’t for the tremble in the girl’s voice. Astrid has always seemed tough to him and a terrible liar, like Hiccup. That was genuine emotion in her tone.

That was how he found out his son was missing.

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In the beginning, there was a fire driving Stoick forwards.

When his son’s friends called to tell him that they hadn’t seen or heard from Hiccup in a worryingly amount of time when he should’ve been taking his dragon home, Stoick was quick to come over.

He met with the five and the dragon, the one Hiccup was supposed to return to the sanctuary he had escaped from just to see his human companion.

He’d gotten their stories in person, spent another couple of hours trying to reach Hiccup, then searched the places he could’ve possibly gone to, even visiting Gobber and calling Valka, neither of which had seen a sign of him either. After a whole night wasted on trying to reach him, Stoick finally went to the police.

The friends had to do their story again, they were taken seriously, Stoick provided with a description and a picture, it was on the news, posters were printed and posted, it was a whole process, but they were fired up and stubborn in bringing him home.

Then days passed with no real news, then weeks, and then months of nothing. Nothing but sick minds who get some sort of kick out prank calling a worried father and grieving friends and girlfriend.

Stoick went out there himself to search for his son. The coffee shop he worked at, his street, the neighboring streets, he searched the entire city for just a single sign of Hiccup. And if he thought the police wasn’t doing enough, he’d hound them into doing more.

In the beginning, there was no short supply of spirit in his desire to find Hiccup, but now it’s been months and he feels like he’s already running on fumes.

He’s not going to stop, he’s never going to stop, but there are days where he can only sit on the couch in a darkened room and nothing more.

It doesn’t help that the holidays are fast approaching and all they do now is add to his sour mood. If Hiccup isn’t found soon, this’ll be his first without his son and that does not sit well with Stoick at all.

But anyway, Gobber is here, too.

“You know, Stoick, you scowl any more, you’re going to scare even me away.” Gobber jokes with him, attempting to lighten the mood with a light joke. The two have been silently and mindlessly watching whatever crosses their way, hoping to chase away any and all thought as they bring them both nothing but pain.

Gobber is heartbroken, too, jokes and faith in their son’s stubbornness used to help him cling to the hope that they’ll see him again.

At first, it was the hope that they’ll see him again soon, nowadays it’s the hope that they’ll see him again someday, whether dead or alive. Because Gobber isn’t a fool, he knows the first few days are very crucial in a missing person’s case, especially the first 24 hours. Isn’t that what those cop shows always claim? Hiccup has already been gone for months.

He wasn’t able to do much in the beginning. When it came to searching for Hiccup out there on the street and surrounding forests, he was only able to come along for so much with a leg and an arm missing. But with jokes, by talking with Stoick, or just keeping him company, he can help the man be less alone in his suffering.

Stoick hasn’t left the house in days, has stopped returning Valka’s call, and Gobber thinks that’s an alarming thing. The last thing his friend needs is to cut himself off from his family and Hiccup’s friends.

Taking his glare off the tv, which he isn’t paying attention to, anyway, Stoick instead scowls at Gobber.

“Do you truly think that I am in the mood for jokes, Gobber?” He asks, not all that happy to deal with Gobber’s attempt at humor, to say the least.

“Only for tasteful ones!” Gobber replies, his cheer still very much intact. Or that’s what he wants Stoick and those friends of Hiccup’s to believe.

Wordlessly, Stoick looks back at the tv. Apparently, they’ve been watching a channel about DIYs, a chair is being constructed in the current program. He hadn’t even noticed before.

Gobber sighs and looks back at the tv, the living room bathing in darkness except for the light from the screen. Once upon a time, he could at least annoy Stoick into interacting with him, now he can’t even accomplish that anymore.

And if he can’t reach Stoick… Well, it does little good for his own mental health.

Though usually a man that likes a clean house, Stoick has really been letting the place go as there are dishes and cans and filth everywhere. Not that Gobber can fault him for that as his own housekeeping isn’t what it used to be, though it’s always been on the messy side.

Stoick hadn’t wanted to see him either, further backing up his worries that his friend is isolating himself from the outside world. It’s only because Gobber insisted by pushing right past him and forced his way into the home that he isn’t alone now.

Gazing at the silent man, he wonders what he’s thinking now.

Stoick is thinking of Hiccup, for sure, he always is these past months. He shuts himself off to avoid the media, to avoid people who will recognize him from the tireless interviews, to avoid being bothered, running into Astrid or any of her and Hiccup’s friends, or coming across any reminders of his son. Gobber guesses those are the reasons that Stoick no longer goes outside and he only wishes the other would let him in.

Gobber’s assumption couldn’t be more right. In his attempt to hide and stop his endless thoughts and worrying, all Stoick does is think and fret and tear himself apart for his failure.

As a father, he’s supposed to protect his child, that has been his duty from the day he and Valka decided to expand their family. He followed through on this while Valka was pregnant with their son, he held him as soon as he could after birth and promised him that he wouldn’t know a single day of strive, and he tried and tried every single day of the boy’s short lived life to make it come true.

Now look where his incompetence has left him, left Hiccup.

And before this, there were at least two more times when he felt, and was, absolutely useless.

The second time was when a dragon attacked his son, scarred his back, and mangled his leg so badly it had to be taken.

The very first, it was during a snowy winter when his son was 12-years-old and that is the particular moment he’s thinking of now.

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“Be careful!” He remembers warning his son that cold afternoon as his friends had come to ask him outside to play, which is slowly devolving into “hanging out” as they age. Not a bad idea, Valka had convinced him and she was still his wife at the time.

Hiccup was a young boy with plenty of friends, he should make use of his childhood while he still can before the inevitable responsibilities of life will whisk him away. He should enjoy himself, that is what Valka said to convince him to let Hiccup outside.

Back then, Oswald, a good friend of Stoick’s, was still alive. Back then, Dagur was still a good boy and Heather was a young girl full of life, who didn’t need to struggle to make ends meet following the loss of her father and her brother’s troubles.

But Stoick knew there was something off about the boy from the beginning. Dagur was too reckless for his tastes, always seeking trouble in some way, never listening to his father. That day, it was Hiccup he dragged down with him.

It was Fishlegs who suddenly stood on his front porch, twiddling his thumbs uncertainly and timidly staring at the ground. Apparently, Astrid had sent him, as Stoick would later find out. She’s always been a smart girl, a girl who doesn’t like to break rules and listens to her parents.

“Um, Mr. Haddock, sir? I think Hiccup’s about to get in a lot of trouble.” For any kid at any age, tattling on your friends never feels good and it doesn’t help that Stoick is so big and scary. The 11-year-old never understood how Hiccup was never scared of him. But Astrid had made him go while she stayed, believing she needed to keep an eye on what she thought was a situation about to get really out of hand.

Tearing their coats off the rack, he and Valka left quickly, the boy guiding them towards the local lake in a forest just outside of town.

They would find that Dagur was the biggest troublemaker in this situation. A much older boy, he’d followed his sister when she left with Astrid.

“Come on, Hiccup! You’re not scared like they are, are you? Get over here!” That was unmistakably young Dagur’s voice that they heard as they approached the lake. Whatever he was hounding their son to do, it couldn’t be anything good.

“Hiccup!” Stoick called out to him the second he spotted him, seeing his small frame on a frozen lake nobody has cleared for use yet and there he was.

Dagurr stood in the middle of it, arms crossed and an impatient look on his face. That is, until he saw the angry and mountainous dad of his target at the banks of the lake together with Hiccup’s mom. And suddenly, he felt like fleeing, having been caught red-handed.

“Mo-Mom? Dad?” Hiccup looked back at his parents, his face and posture betraying that his position isn’t one he put himself in as willingly as it first appeared.

Dagur had been bullying the younger kids, daring them into getting on the ice like he dared to. Kids don’t like to be challenged this way, they don’t like to be made to feel like they can’t do something, like they’re afraid and being afraid makes them a coward. Nobody wants to be seen as anything but brave. But Hiccup, he merely wanted to “prove himself” to end this charade and convince him to get off.

Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, Astrid, and Heather, too, looked uncomfortable with the situation. They knew it was bad, even the first three who are troublemakers themselves.

“Hiccup, come on! Come back!” Astrid shouted towards him, but he was too stubborn to leave, still waiting on Dagur to get off the ice first.

He wasn’t ready to give up on him yet, not even with his own well-being on the line. He cared too much about others, he has always cared too much. Three years in the future, it might contribute to Dagur’s future obsession with him. His mother has left him, his father would, too, then, but Hiccup hadn’t.

Looking away from his terrified parents to gaze back at Dagur again, he shuffles ever closer while trembling in fright. He can hear and feel the lake cracking in warning beneath his feet.

“Dagur, I’m-I’m-I’m here-I’m here now, can we-can we go back?” He asked with a tremble and tears of stress in his eyes. He wanted to go back so badly, but he refused to go alone.

“Um-” The older boy’s bravado from before was entirely gone, his gaze moved from Hiccup to his father nervously.

“Yes, you two can! And you better come back quickly! Dagur, your father will hear of this!” Stoick couldn’t hear the ice straining, but that didn’t make him any less urged to get those two boys on solid ground.

“Dagur!” Heather shouts, sniffing.

“Dagur, please, you’re only putting yourself in danger! Come back to shore and everything will be okay.” Valka took a less consequential stance, something Stoick looked at her in disagreement for.

“Oh-okay,” Dagur quietly replied, spooked by Hiccup’s parents, and shuffled his way cautious off the lake.

It was only then, when he saw Dagur safely on the banks, that Hiccup could breathe easy and return, too.

“And now you, my brave boy, come here!” Valka stretched her hands out, causing him to smile.

Stoick didn’t plan on being as encouraging as his wife was being, fuming. Their 12-year-old was recklessly risking his life and for what? If he wants to be a hero, he should do it without endangering himself as well.

“I’m-I’m coming!” Hiccup called back, happy that he no longer needed to be here.

But as his luck would have it, just like he will somehow attract the attention of two obsessed men in a span of only three years, he had to be the one to fall through the ice.

Slowly, he moved closer to his friends and parents, the thin layer of ice under his feet cracking beneath his feather-light weight. No matter how much he moved from the spot, the cracks followed him and they grew bigger and they multiplied quickly. He was so scared, dying to reunite with his parents again. They were right there and yet so far away.

And then it breaks and he sinks into the freezing water below with a shriek that is cut short.

“Hiccup!” Everyone shouted as they watched him disappear.

Stoick will remember this incident as one of the worst moments in his entire life. Nothing in any of his 45 years of life will ever come close, not until his son loses his leg and fights for his life in the hospital, not until some faceless stranger kidnapped him for reasons Stoick never wants to know.

He couldn’t traverse the ice to go get him, it would’ve never been able to hold his weight if it couldn’t hold Hiccup’s. All he was able to do, all any of them were able to do, was watch in fear as Hiccup cried and clawed and struggled to get out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow that incident ended well. Somehow Hiccup managed to pull himself back up on slightly thicker ice than the parts that kept breaking on him. He got far enough away from the hole that someone could pull him the rest of the way. Once he was pulled back, Stoick and Valka enclosed him in their arms, his tiny and wet body cold in their embrace.

Neither of them have ever forgotten that day and it’s all Stoick can think about now. He can still hear Hiccup’s voice.

“Mom! Dad!” He’d cried for their help, something he has rarely ever done growing up. No matter how many problems may pile and pile, Hiccup has always wanted to solve things himself before he called in any sort of help. It’s probably why, after recovering from his amputation, he wanted to pull Toothless out of his guilt.

Stoick wonders if that was what had gotten him kidnapped. There are plenty of stories of people pretending to be hurt or in distress just to lure in unsuspecting good-natured people. If anybody could fall for such a scam, it would be Hiccup. Every part of his mind could be telling him that this person was up to no good and he would still act on that small, small “what if this person truly is in trouble?”

Is that what got him kidnapped? What got him... killed? Was Hiccup simply too pure of heart and did someone take advantage of that to snuff out his light?

After the lake incident, they drove him to the hospital as fast as they could and they found out he was okay. The doctor there told them he would be just fine and that they just needed to keep him warm and dry until his temperature was back up. After that, they could take him home with them.

He hadn’t lost consciousness, he didn’t seem to have swallowed or breathed in too much water, they could be almost certain that he was entirely okay.

As for his parents, however, they were never quite the same after that accident. Once Hiccup was dry, Stoick held his shivering son to him and vowed to him that he would never let anything happen to him ever again.

It’s a vow he broke twice.

Hiccup bounces back from pretty much anything thrown at him. After his fall, he would sneak out to play when his parents would much rather have him home with them. And though he wouldn’t go back on a frozen lake again, he’d still go out swimming with his friends.

During his divorce with Valka, though it was a painful time for all of them, he seemed to understand why it needed to happen and adjusted quickly. Even when asked if he thought badly of his parents months after it was finalized, he’d told them “no”, that it was better this way.

When a dragon went and bit his leg off, Hiccup went on to not only see the darn thing again, but he made friends with it and decided to fully dedicate his life to dragonkind. At 15, he wasn’t sure yet where he wanted his life to go, not until that accident.

Again and again, Stoick promised his son that nothing would ever happen to him after this. He held him in the hospital after his birth as he promised, then a second time after the lake, then a third time as he held his hand just before the surgery that would take his leg. Chances are, he will never get to promise him a fourth time.

Sitting on the couch, not paying attention to the tv and wasting away, there are tears in his eyes. Never much of an emotional man, Stoick doesn’t feel like he can stop them.

Strictly statistically speaking, the chances of a missing person ever being found alive, or even found at all, dwindles by the day and Hiccup has been gone since early June.

It’s December now.

The horrendous theories from the police don’t help either. Some even dare to put the blame on Hiccup, insinuating that his death, not his vanishing, but his death , might’ve been caused by a crime of passion. 19 years old, handsome, tall, capable, who isn’t to say he’s been cheating on his girlfriend and either she or the mistress found out? Naturally, that meant Astrid was a suspect at some point, too.

Stoick remembers seeing her after an interrogation once. Her parents came to pick her up at the same time he’d come to the station to demand an update.

She’d been distraught, face red and eyes bloodshot. Hiccup was her boyfriend of a year, her childhood friend, and they’d accused her of killing him over something like that. While cheating is no trivial matter, it’s not something she would kill over. Besides that, everyone who knew Hiccup also knows that he would’ve never done such a thing to her in the first place.

Then they settled for the most likely culprit, which was Dagur.

Stoick won’t lie, it felt good to finally hear from the police that they got him and that he would answer for his crimes, but that only lasted for… what? A day? Two days? A week at most? The relief ended quickly because the question of what happened to Hiccup remains unanswered to this day and Dagur stubbornly persists that he’s “getting better”, that he “would never hurt Hiccup”. And frankly, a part of Stoick seems to believe the young man.

Gods, why didn’t he just let him go live with Valka to study dragons? He wouldn’t have needed to move out and gotten an apartment deeper in their town. He would’ve already been living in the sanctuary if he did.

Or maybe the sanctuary was part of the problem. It’s not exactly a car ride away, you need to take the ferry there. So perhaps, part of the reason why he didn’t let Hiccup study dragons, he now realizes, is because he didn’t want him to go so far away.

How ironic, then, that someone decided to take him away anyway when he wasn’t looking. As if someone knew of Stoick’s inability to let go of his only child and thought that they should be the one to make him.

This never would’ve happened if he let Hiccup do as he wished. On the sanctuary, surrounded by dragons who know and love him, where Valka is, he would’ve been perfectly safe. Stoick may as well have asked someone to kidnap him.

It’s a painful thought and a tear falls, but Stoick doesn’t fight the guilt that he feels. This is all his fault. If he didn’t constantly break his vow to keep his child safe, Hiccup would still be here.

Gobber can read every self-deprecating thought on his old friend’s face, can see the tears, and sighs deeply before he looks back at the tv. On the channel they’re watching, they’re now installing some plumbing on a different program.

He wishes he could take the hurt away, wishes he could say something, but everything that can possibly be said he’s already said.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Stoick.”

“They’ll find him, Stoick.”

“Hiccup’s a strong and smart lad, Stoick”.

He’s sick of repeating himself. He doesn’t even believe his own words, so why should he continue to spout these lies? To a grieving father especially?

Hiccup is smart and he is strong, but does that mean he could still be alive today?

The will to comfort his friend quickly abates in the face of his own doubts and loss, Gobber feels like he may as well follow Stoick’s example and waste away alongside him. What else is left for him to do?

Just then, Stoick’s phone rings.

Snapping them both of their contemplation, Stoick picks it up and looks at the caller’s ID. It’s Astrid, the poor lass. He doesn’t feel like talking to her, but then, he also didn’t feel like letting Gobber in, so he answers the call.

“Astrid, lass?” He acknowledges her, hand rubbing in his eyes.

His eyes widen suddenly and he shoots up from the couch, startling Gobber in the process.

“Stoick?” He wonders what’s gotten him so riled up and so out of nowhere. What could Astrid possibly be telling him?

“Yes, I’m still here. Thank you for telling me, lass, I’m coming. Please, tell him that when he wakes up.” Eventually, after what felt like much too long of a call to Gobber, Stoick hangs up the phone and stares at him with that same wide-eyed look he can’t quite place. The tears are still there, they’re still falling, so what is that expression telling him?

“What is it, man?! Don’t keep me waiting, spit it out!” He demands, throwing his remaining hand up in growing frustration.

“They found him, Gobber. They found my son.”

Perhaps, Stoick can still make good on that vow.

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howtodrawyourdragon · 4 years

Text

Acceptance

Summary: Set during RttE, trans!Hiccup. While away on the Edge, Hiccup has done a lot of introspection that Stoick isn't aware of. When he returns home and finds out that his father knows, Hiccup fears his father's judgment.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Stoick, Toothless, Astrid

Pairing: None

Words: 1 803

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Author’s Notes: An exploration of some kind, I guess? The first thing I wrote after finishing Whumptober as I apparently craved some Stoick and Hiccup bonding after the serious lack of Stoick and Hiccup bonding that I wrote during Whumptober.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

----------------------------------------------------------------------

With a heavy heart, Hiccup returns home after a long trip. It takes almost two days for the Dragon Riders to fly from the Edge to Berk and back again and he's been stressed the entire flight.

His dad has found something out about him, something he wasn't supposed to know. Maybe it was even something he was never supposed to find out.

He stands before the front door of his home, knowing he needs to enter, but much too nervous to.

Toothless stands beside him, he rumbles encouragingly and licks Hiccup's hand. Having him by his side always helps Hiccup feel better.

"I can do this, right?" He asks the Night Fury, who nudges his side to tell him to enter. There is only one way to find out.

"Yes, you can. And we'll be here waiting for you if you need us." The one who talks then is Astrid. She and the other Dragon Riders are standing at a distance, watching from the bottom of the steps leading up to the Haddock household.

They know this secret that Hiccup has been keeping from his father and they have been helping him keep it.

That is until someone with a big mouth found out and told the Chief of Berk, leading to a letter being sent requesting Hiccup's return for a talk. The author wants him to explain himself.

It's the most ominous letter he has ever received and he's been close to freaking out ever since.

He hates that his father knows, he hates that he wasn't the one who got to tell him, and he hates that he never got to choose when either. Now he's forced to pick up whatever pieces he can to somehow stick them back together again. If that is still at all possible, that is.

Hiccup sends his friends one last look before he enters, almost feeling like knocking on the front door as if he would be intruding into his own home.

He opens it as silently as he can, cringing at every creak that he hears. He enters and finds his father right there waiting for him, poking into the fire in the pit and making him flashback to every scolding and lecture he has ever received that started out exactly like this.

It's only late afternoon, too. His father shouldn't be home for a little while longer and yet here he is.

Toothless enters after Hiccup, just as nervous and blending right in with the shadows of their home. Hiccup closes it just as silently as he opened it, though he knows Stoick is already aware of his presence.

Knowing he can't just sneak past him, he has tried many times before in the past, Hiccup approaches instead. His pegleg thuds painfully loud on the wood.

Toothless, meanwhile, stays behind. He's here to support his Rider and he always will, but he knows he needs to stay behind for this one. You don't just intrude onto matters between a sire and his offspring. This is something that humans and dragons share.

"Uh... Hey dad," Hiccup reluctantly greets his father, crossing his arms only to uncross them and settle his hands on his hips. He's so nervous that he isn't quite sure how he wants to stand or what he wants to do with his hands. He feels like sitting. Should he grab a stool? But then standing allows him to leave quickly if he feels the need to.

Gods, he's nervous.

"Hiccup." Stoick greets him and though it doesn't sound cold, his tone isn't exactly warm either.

"So, uh... How is my father this fine evening?" Hiccup's question is clumsy and his dread is palpable. He rubs the back of his neck, his palms are sweaty.

Fire poker in one hand, Stoick halts and glances over at Hiccup, not answering his question.

Hiccup, his heir. Hiccup, who has been his one and only child, his only daughter for the past 18 years. But there she stands, hair much shorter than it used to be when she was a little girl. And no dress or skirt or long tunic, but a short tunic with armor and trousers.

Taking his eyes off his only child, Stoick gazes at the fire again and starts poking into the flaming embers.

"Spitelout told me some interesting news upon his return days ago." He tells Hiccup and he nods to show him that he has an idea what news Snotlout's father may have told his.

While visiting the Edge, Spitelout had caught a private conversation between Hiccup and the Riders. It had instantly become anything but private as he had immediately "intervened" and gave Hiccup a piece of his mind. And then he went back to Berk with the promise that Stoick would be hearing of this. Soon after, the letter came.

"And what did he tell you?" Hiccup asks as if he doesn't know, attempting to keep a hold of his trembling self and his trembling self's voice.

After a pause, Stoick straightens on his stool as he needs to think his words over before he speaks again. His many, many talks with Gobber after the news and the many nights of lonely thinking are on repeat in his mind.

"He told me that my daughter was disgracing herself and bringing shame to the Haddock name by pretending that she is a boy." In the end, his words come out harsh and Stoick finds that there is no other way of phrasing it, it's what Spitelout has told him.

He gazes at Hiccup, who can't hide the hurt that he feels when he hears the words his father chooses to use. Hiccup has always been an expressive and sensitive person, more so than any other Viking on Berk. So Stoick can see it clearly, the fact that this isn't just pretend and that something else is going on here, something deeper.

In comparison, Stoick's face is quite unreadable. His thoughts are his own.

Hiccup doesn't know what to do. Should he tell him Spitelout heard wrong and therefore drew the wrong conclusions? Should he tell him that it's pretense to fool Viggo? Or should he just come clean and tell Stoick how he really feels? About the doubts he's been feeling for years, the questions he's had, and how good it feels when his friends call him a 'he'?

With an unswallowable lump in his throat, Hiccup gives Stoick his answer.

"It's true," Hiccup says, his face heating up as his nerves rise. "But it's not pretend."

Stoick simply watches him with no reaction at all. If he wanted to explode, he would've done so already.

That is one advantage to living two days away by dragon, Hiccup supposes. His father must've done all his yelling before Hiccup got home. His silence, though unbearable, it helps him continue.

"It's just... We were... I... Being away from Berk, it's giving us a chance to-to think about things and about how we feel and-and... and stuff, you know?" Hiccup isn't sure how to word any of it. How to explain how he feels or how right it feels or any of the thoughts running in panic through his mind.

His father still doesn't speak. Instead, he just stares at him and Hiccup can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

At least he isn't raising his voice at him. Stoick loves him, Hiccup knows this, but a Viking's pride is often everything.

"I don't feel like I should be-should be a-a daughter. I know that-that may sound very strange, but- Ah, how do I even explain this." Hiccup crosses his arms, his nerves suffocating him and stealing his words.

"You don't feel like a daughter? You feel like a son?" But then Stoick finally talks and it almost appears to Hiccup that he wants to help him talk it through the mess in his mind.

If that is the truth, then maybe he still has a chance to help his father understand how he feels.

So he nods hopefully.

"I can't explain what this is or why I feel the way I do, I just know that it feels really good when the Riders refer to me as a "he" instead of a "she", dad. Really, really good. I don't know why." Hiccup explains that he's just as clueless on the matter. All he knows for sure is what feels right to him.

"And that is truly how you feel?" His father asks, still not a hint on what he may be thinking. Hiccup finds himself brave enough to nod.

"When I visit Berk and I have to listen to people call me something that I feel like I'm not... It hurts. It hurts so bad and I never realized how much it hurt and how wrong it felt until the Riders started calling me something that felt right to me." Hiccup is pouring his heart out to his father, hoping beyond hope that he's listening to the words that he's speaking to him.

Stoick nods, but whether this means he understands or not...

"I had no idea," He talks and stokes the fire again. "No idea that you felt this way. Or that it seems like I've had a son instead of a daughter these past 18 years."

Hiccup stares at his father, not sure if he's hearing this right or if this means what he wants it to mean.

"Do-do you-do you mean...?" Hiccup is a brave soul, is called fearless by his friends and rightfully so, but this question he has trouble asking in fear of imagining things. Relief is dying to well up, but he wants to repress it before he's sure.

Halting in his poking of the embers, Stoick pulls a stool closer to him, inviting Hiccup to sit down next to him.

"I admit, I have trouble understanding this, but I know better than to tell Hiccup Haddock how to feel. So how about you sit down and explain it to me?" His father requests softly and Hiccup is sure he might start crying any second now.

He lets his relief be felt and it shows, the fear melts away to make room for happiness.

His dad may not entirely understand him, but this feels like an acceptance. His father accepts him! His worst fear ends up being just that, a fear, and not the truth.

Hiccup's happiness is not lost on Stoick, not with how utterly present it is on his son's face. Though he has many questions, seeing him happy like that feels right to him and so he believes he's doing a good thing by choosing to accept him.

Swallowing the burning lump, able to breathe again, Hiccup walks over and takes a seat next to his father.

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starlightbuck · 4 years

Note

20 for the meet cute prompts 👀👀👀

20. You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

the way you look tonight || read on AO3

“Why are you walking so fast?”

Chim darts an unimpressed glance over his shoulder. “Because I’m a man on a mission. Now hurry up, Buckley.”

Buck picks up speed, trying to understand how it is that he’s struggling to keep up. His legs are longer than Chim’s, so shouldn’t he be the one setting the pace for the two of them? Not vice versa?

“If I walk quicker, will you finally tell me where we’re going?”

Chim had showed up at Buck’s apartment less than an hour ago and all but dragged Buck out the door without any explanation. Buck had gone willingly, mostly because he was bored and didn’t have any other plans for the day. That hadn’t stopped him from wondering what destination Chim had in mind for them.

He had asked where they were going once they got into the car. His question was met with silence so Buck decided to ask a second time. That time, Chim just raised the volume all the way up on the radio. Buck caught the hint and didn’t ask again.

“If you walk quicker, you’ll find out on your own.” Buck, having not yet caught up to Chim, sticks his tongue out at the back of his head. “Very mature, Buck.”

That stops Buck in his tracks. “How did you see that?”

“I didn’t. I just know how immature you are.”

They continue walking at an almost grueling pace until finally, Chim slows down. It’s such a relief to Buck that he doesn’t even acknowledge their surroundings until Chim is pulling a glass door open and gesturing for Buck to walk in. He does so immediately, drawn in by the cool air conditioning that directly contrasts the overbearing Los Angeles heat.

It’s once Buck steps foot inside the store that he realizes where he is and promptly does an about face.

“Uh uh.” Chim blocks Buck’s escape route, standing in front of the door with his hands on his hips. “You’re not going anywhere until you find yourself a new suit.”

It’s the same thing Maddie has been telling Buck for months now, apparently unhappy with the perfectly good suit he has hanging up in his closet. He doesn’t understand why she’s so adamant about him not wearing it. It cost him a fair amount of money and he knows he looks good in it. Why would he waste his time and money buying a new one?

He’s about to say as much to Chim, but is cut off by a wave of Chim’s hand.

“And don’t tell me you already have a suit. Maddie has deemed it unsuitable and what she says goes.”

“Doing my sister’s dirty work now, huh?”

Chim’s expression doesn’t waver, lips set in a straight line as he takes a couple of steps towards Buck. “Yes I am because she’s carrying our unborn child and I love her.”

Buck can’t say he was expecting that response and it works to disarm him long enough for Chim to grab his forearm and march the two of them to the front of the store.

“Didn’t take you for a romantic, Chim.”

Chim doesn’t rise to the bait like Buck’s hoping he will. Instead, his future brother-in-law sets his sights on one of the store’s employees and lets her know that they’re on a quest for a new suit for Buck. She is very efficient, taking Buck’s measurements and then leading him over to the first rack of suits to get a feel for what styles he prefers. Once that has been accomplished, she guides Buck to a fitting room and lets him know that she’ll be back with a few options for him to try.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me like this,” Buck whines through the curtain as he buttons up a burgundy long-sleeve top and slides on the black suit jacket.

“This isn’t so bad.”

Buck pushes the curtain aside so he can show Chim the fourth suit combination he’s changed into. “That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbles. While Buck’s been forced to change in and out of suits like some kind of Ken doll, Chim has been lounging in a comfortable armchair with a cold water bottle one of the employees brought out for him.

“I don’t think that’s the one either.”

“Why not?”

Chim shrugs, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Just doesn’t seem right. Let’s see the next one.”

Buck clenches his fist and stomps right back into the fitting room before he can say something that might be used against him in the future. This is exactly why Buck refused to go suit shopping when Maddie brought it up, but at least she would’ve been a better shopping companion. She would’ve actually offered constructive criticism whereas Chim is just turning down everything Buck has tried on. Buck can’t tell if Chim is doing it out of spite or if he genuinely hasn’t liked anything Buck has tried on so far.

The final suit left to try on is olive green and definitely not something Buck would’ve chosen for himself. It’s why he left the option for last, hoping that any of the other suits he tried on would’ve been a winner. He changes slowly, knowing that once this suit is rejected, he’ll have to wait all over again for the same employee as before to pick another round of things for him to try on.

“Alright, here’s the last one,” Buck announces, not bothering to look in the mirror before stepping back out to face Chim. He fiddles with the cuff link, waiting for Chim’s opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think you look very handsome.”

Buck startles at the sound of a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Chim. His suspicions are confirmed when he looks up and finds a young boy with sandy hair and glasses in the chair that Chim was sitting on only moments earlier. “You’re not Chim.”

“No, I’m Chris,” he answers with a toothy grin. The kid, Chris, is far cuter than he has any right to be. Buck finds himself smiling for the first time since stepping foot inside of the store. “That’s a nice color.”

“You think so?”

Chris nods emphatically, glasses tipping precariously on the tip of his nose when he does. He pushes them back into place and gives Buck a once-over. “It’s different, but I like it. Can you spin?”

“Spin?”

“Yeah, you know. Spin.” Chris twirls his finger around in the air to show Buck what he means. “Abuela says you have to look at an outfit from every angle to make sure it looks good.”

Well if that’s what Abuela says, who is Buck to argue?

“Make sure to do it slowly so I can see you,” Chris instructs and Buck does just that, taking his time as he walks in a small circle. He does it twice, moving his arms around during his second spin to see how the suit feels when movements are involved.

He’s just about to face Chris again to receive the child’s final verdict on the suit when Buck sees his reflection in the mirror.

I don’t hate it is the first thought that comes to mind. This might be the one is his second thought.

“Does it look good from every angle, Chris?”

Buck turns back around and almost chokes on his saliva.

Chris is still sitting in the armchair but he’s not alone anymore. There’s a man, an extremely attractive one, standing beside Chris with a collection of suits slung over his arm and amusement shining in his brown eyes.

They’re really nice eyes.

Attached to an even nicer face.

“It looks very good,” Chris answers solemnly, completely unaware of the tailspin Buck’s mind has just been launched into. What does it say about Buck that this kid is able to concentrate on the task at hand while Buck has been sidetracked by someone’s presence? “Daddy, what do you think?”

And oh. If Buck thought having this man stare at him was a distraction before, it’s nothing in comparison to how he feels when the man brings his free hand up to stroke the scruff that covers his chin. It’s a contemplative look that has Buck’s heart doing a backflip or cannonball or something else ridiculous and unbecoming of someone of his age.

So not only has Buck’s brain short-circuited, but his heart has as well.

Traitors.

“It’s a good look,” the brunette finally decides. The words shouldn’t hold anywhere near as much weight as they do. “Definitely a top contender in my opinion.”

Buck is not blushing, he’s not.

Maybe if he tells himself that enough times, it’ll eradicate the tinge of pink that he knows has stained his cheeks.

“Does that mean you’re gonna buy it?” Chris’s question breaks Buck out of his stupor. “Because I think you should.”

Chris’s dad raises his hand. “I second that statement.”

“And I third that statement,” Chim says, appearing out of nowhere wearing a smile that always spells trouble for Buck. Of course he’d choose now to show up again. “Who are your friends, Buck?”

“I’m Chris!” He holds his hand out for Chim to shake. “And this is my dad.”

“Eddie,” his father supplies, also taking a second to shake Chim’s hand.

“Buck was looking for you before.” Chris explains and Buck is glad that the kid is explaining the situation because Buck doesn’t think he would’ve been able to. “But don’t worry. I helped him and told him how handsome he looks.”

Buck doesn’t have to look at Chim to know that he’s withholding his laughter. “Oh you did, did you?”

Is it wrong of Buck to wish that a black hole will appear and swallow him whole? It’s probably dramatic, but he can live with that. At least then he would be able to retain some of his reputation. He already knows that Chim, and by extension Hen, will never let him live this down.

Buck decides it’s best to cut his losses and heads into the dressing room to get changed. The curtain muffles the voices outside, but he can still hear Chim’s laughter. Buck can’t tell if this is a blessing or a curse.

By the time he exits the dressing room again, the laughter outside has subsided and Eddie is nowhere to be found. Buck swallows back his disappointment, a fact made easier by the bright smile Chris directs at him. “Buck! Are you ready to help daddy find a suit too?”

“I-uh what?”

“Help Eddie find a suit,” Chim repeats, as if the problem Buck had with that statement was that he didn’t hear it. “I told Chris that he could keep you for the afternoon so you could pay him back for helping you.”

Buck’s jaw falls open as he stares at Chim in disbelief. Buck was only gone for a few minutes, how did Chim manage to set this whole thing up that quickly?

“I’ll take these off of your hands,” Chim says, taking the suits from Buck. “You can pay me back for the suit later.”

Chim’s final sentence is accompanied by a wink that lets Buck know he’s going to be expected to pay Chim back for more than just the suit. He’s gone before Buck can so much as put up a fight and then Buck is left alone with Chris.

“I’m ready, Chris!” The low voice comes from the dressing room right beside Buck’s and he does not think about the fact that Eddie was getting changed at the same time he was. “You ready for me?”

“I am! Buck?”

Buck glances around the room, curious as to where that employee who helped him earlier is. She’s the one who supplied Chim with a water bottle earlier and something tells Buck he’s about to be very thirsty. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #prompt fill #my writing #tylerhunklin

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thequillsink · 3 years

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I Drink Your Blood (1971) full review

Published by grimoireofhorror.com 13/01/21

B-movies have become a staple in popular culture over the recent years, with cult classics from the 1970s and 1980s finally receiving the wider attention they rightly deserve. One such classic piece of media that has garnered attention is I Drink Your Blood.

I Drink Your Blood (1971) is an exploitation film directed by David Durston, who has only directed a total of 7 films from 1964 to 1978, including Stigma (1972) and produced by Jerry Gross, who has work on a number of well-known films such as Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979) (or Zombi 2, depending on where you are from).

*This review contains spoilers

The film opens to Horace, the leader of a roaming cult of satanic hippies, performing an occult ritual in the woods outside of a small town, when a young girl, Sylvia, is noticed observing the group, but Andy, a young man, who she had caught stealing a chicken in the afternoon and befriended, tries to defend her. The rest of the group give chase and attack her, beating her mercilessly. After managing to make her way back into town the next morning, she is found traumatized by her younger brother, Pete, and Mildred, the towns baker, who take her home to her grandfather, the local vet.

After their van breaks down, the cult has no choice but to make their way into town for supplies. They buy food from Mildred, who is unaware of what has transpired, who lets them know that the town is scheduled for demolition and they can stay in a vacated house for the night.

After Sylvia overcomes her state of shock, she tells her grandfather what has happened and he confronts the cult, only to be beaten and force-fed LSD. As Horace is about to kill the old man, the cult members convince him to stop as Pete arrives outside, demanding to know what is going on. Angered by what the cult did to his family, Pete hatches a plan of revenge by obtaining tainted blood from a rabid dog to lace food to sell to the cult.

After eating the contaminated food, except for Andy, who refuses to eat, the cult starts to show signs of infection and exhibit violent behaviour, causing some of them to flee into the night. One member of the group is picked up by construction workers from the local dam, who take her back to their lodgings to calm down, she proceeds to have sex with a few of the workers and infect them. Roger, head of site construction and Mildred’s boyfriend, discovers his workforce are now all infected with rabies and is chased, along with the local doctor, down to a lake filled quarry but their assailants are scared away by the water that has collected.

The remaining members of the cult attack each other in what remains of the town whilst Pete, Sylvia and Andy, who has expressed regret for what had happened to Sylvia, try to find a means of escape. The group find Mildred hidden inside the bakery, but as they are let inside, Andy is attacked and killed by a rabid construction worker and the store is breached but Mildred manages to kill one as they escape outside to her car. Surrounded by Rabid workers and cultists, the car is flipped over and all looks lost until a group of armed police, led by Robert, gun down the remaining infected and save the trio from harm.

The film was originally title Phobia but was changed after production to be more fitting for a double feature and renamed I Drink Your Blood to be paired with I Eat Your Skin, a film that went by the name Zombie and was shelfed for 6 years before Jerry Gross obtained the rights to release the film under this double feature.

The film was the first to receive an X rating for violence alone and was re-edited and scenes reshot to receive a M rating and a cinema release. It is rumoured that David Durston based the character of the cult leader, Horace, on actual cult leader Charles Manson, who was made famous for ordering his cult to go on a killing spree in 1960’s California. With the film being marketed and released a year after Manson’s conviction, Jerry Gross wanted to cash in on the public’s fascination and disgust with the case. In 2009, David announced that he planned to remake the film, which he had started work on the films script, unfortunately, David’s death in 2010 has causes the project to be permanently shelved.

The cinematography is fairly competent but has many scenes where crew members are visible making them feel somewhat rushed in production. The use of its soundtrack adds both tension and unintended comedy to certain scenes, composed by Clay Pitts, the synth heavy soundtrack being atmospheric and unsettling in some scenes but becomes hilarious during chase scenes. The practical special effects are very well done for such a small budget and hold up 50 years later, with great blood work and realistic props, it’s one of the films core strengths. I’m not going to lie; this film was never going to win any awards. With a fine mix of over and under acting by the cast of relatively unknown actors, a campy exploitation story and unique 70’s soundtrack, this film falls perfectly into the category of “so bad its good”, and my is it good.

Despite all this, the film has positive to mixed reviews from critics and is a beloved cult classic, having similar characteristics to later classics as David Cronenberg’s Rabid (1977) and George A Romero’s The Crazies (1973) and has been shown at frequently at film festivals over the years, helping cement its place in popular culture.

#writing #writers on tumblr #journalsim #journal #review #exploitation #film #b movies #i drink your blood #gore #zombies #the banshee #grimoire of horror

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chroniclackofselfpreservation · 3 years

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Creatures of the Night

Chapter 7 - you know they were made to be used

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(TW: manipulative and toxic relationships, emotional abuse, intense pain, graphic imagery, implications of torture)

(The title for this chapter comes from "To be of use" by Margie Piercy.)

400 years ago.

The Witchlands.

The palace was abuzz with nerves. The cooks in the kitchen kneaded bread in the basement nervously. The servants went about their chores with the quick, curt movements of someone waiting for something bad to happen. The head butler strode furiously up and down the halls, barking orders and polishing china until his fingers blistered. Groundsmen brushed the horses, trimmed the gardens, and swept the walks with barely a word to one another. The palace guard patrolled every inch of the palace, faces as stoic and unmoving as the statues in the Great Hall. Tension flooded the castle until everyone inside waded through it up to their knees.

Today was the day. The Witchlands would receive the newest heir to the throne.

In a not-so-quiet room secluded in the most secure location in the castle, Queen Inez growled and screamed and threatened maids with their lives as the new heir came into the world. The prince consort paced outside the door, dodging the maids that rushed in and out with hot towels and rags muttering things about his wife that he couldn't quite hear over the pounding of his own heart. The captain of the royal guard approached him, a look of amusement on his face.

"What if something goes wrong? What do we do then? If something happens to Inez, or the baby—"

"Your Highness..."

"I don't know the first thing about children, let alone a royal one! What if it doesn't like me? What if I'm not a good father?"

"Darren!" the captain barked, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him a little. He chuckled. "Calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

Darren took a breath, "You're right, Lawrence. Thank you. Did you have something to tell me?"

The captain straightened. "The palace is completely secure, my lord. I'd be surprised if a mouse got in without my men's say-so."

The prince gave a weary smile, and patted Lawrence on the shoulder. "What would I do without you, captain?"

"What, indeed?"

A maid poked her head out of the door. "Pardon me, your highness, captain," she said, giving a lopsided curtsy as best she could, then turned her attention back to the prince. "The queen will see you now."

Darren exhaled, and nodded, following the maid into the room with one last glance at his childhood friend. Lawrence gave him an encouraging nod. Inside, Inez lay on a bed, completely red faced and sweating, but just as gorgeous as the day he fell in love with her. A small bundle of cloth sat clutched against her chest.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Come meet your daughter, love."

"Daughter?" he breathed, feeling like he'd been hit over the head. He had a daughter? He was... a father...

Inez laughed at his expression and beckoned him closer. "Come now, she won't bite."

Darren approached, and his breath hitched in his throat. "She's beautiful."

"She is," the queen cooed, stroking the baby's face. "My little Rosemary."

* * * * * * * * * *

Fourteen years later.

The sky was a brilliant, clear blue. Entirely too brilliant for a funeral, in Rosemary's opinion. The sun was out, making the air humid and sticky and about as unbearable as it possibly could. A line of green-clad beings wound their way down the palace road, through the valley, to the burial site. The procession was nearly a mile long. Every witch, arcanist, nixie, and sprite in the land was in attendance, paying their respects to their once glorious Queen Inez. Rosemary lead the throng alongside her father, her dress a deep, mournful green, reminiscent the black colors that humans in the outside world wore when one of their own died. Though, no one here would recognize the similarity except perhaps the guards or any particularly well-aged witch.

Personally, Rosemary favored the Witchland's own tradition of green as the common funeral color; it made things far less dreary, reminding them all of the infinite cycle of life, and such. However, sometimes the world was dreary, and wrapping herself in lime green felt... wrong.

Rosemary glanced over at her father. He looked sad and tired, and she wondered if he'd have any trouble making the journey. While he certainly was not the oldest witch among the procession, he wasn't the youngest either. His hair was white and the creases in his face guided the beads of sweat away from his eyes and down the side of his face. She would have asked him how he was fairing, but speaking was frowned upon during a funeral procession, especially a royal one.

The entire affair took too long, and not long enough. Rosemary might have been fourteen, but she wasn't ready to give her mother up just about yet. She held no illusions regarding her complete competence to be Queen beginning today—honestly, change was needed soon, else the Witchlands would fall into economic ruin due to nobility running around with entitlement shoved so far up their backsides they cried gold leaf and ball gowns—but Rosemary doubted any one of her plethora of advisers would ever amount to the diplomat, strategist, or leader her mother had been.

And yet, as the funeral came to an end, and as the last spade-full of soil was patted down atop the old queen's grave, no one could deny the feeling of anticipation and excitement rippling through the crowd.

Rosemary turned, and started back up the road to begin her coronation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Twenty-two years later.

Dorian walked quickly down the corridor, a pile of books stacked high in his arms. The royal librarian had been rather irked at the continuous stream of his books being funneled into the basement of the palace. He doubted that the man would express such concerns if the queen herself had come up to request the books, but the very thought of her having to make the trek up and down the narrow spiral staircases between the ground level and the research lab she'd set up in the basement made him cringe. He didn't mind. It was his job, after all, as the head of the queen's personal staff.

"Morning, Dorian," a woman piped cheerfully as they passed.

"Good morning, Esther," he replied, leaning around the books to meet the young maid's eye. She smiled, her brown hair bouncing about her freckled face like silk ribbons and her cheeks flushing.

"May I walk with you?"

"Certainly." Dorian enjoyed her company, despite the fact that she was a bit infatuated with him. He had no romantic interest in her, but found she listened to his ramblings far more patiently than most other people he'd met.

"On another errand for Her Majesty, I assume? What is she doing down there all the time? You'd think she'd want to get out and feel the sun every once in a while—not that I'm criticizing the queen, I never—"

"Relax," he chuckled. "I know what you mean. The queen's research is quite important to her, which means it's important to all of us, but I assure you I will suggest she go for a walk around the grounds later this afternoon."

Esther folded her arms. "May I speak rather freely? You won't tell the queen I said it?"

He smiled. "As long as you aren't planning an assassination, my dear, she won't hear a word of it."

"Do you think she's grown a little distant from the kingdom? She used to be so involved in the affairs of the Witchlands, but ever since she started her experiments, you're the only one who even sees her... I'm just worried for her. Everyone is."

They came to a stop just outside the staircase, and Dorian shifting the books in his grip. "I understand your concern, but trust me when I say that the queen is fine. Her research is for the good of the kingdom." He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and began descending the stairs, the lie bitter on his tongue. It was true, everyone was worried for the queen.

But no one was more concerned than he was.

She'd grown obsessed with harnessing immortality shortly after her father passed from illness. Dorian wasn't exactly sure what had changed within her, but ever since, she'd only shown her face for the bare minimum of state affairs and public appearances. Esther hadn't been lying when she said he was the only one who saw her on a regular basis. She trusted him—or, at least, she trusted him the most out of anyone else in the palace. It was tragic, really. She was ten times the queen her mother ever was, with more magic in her little finger than most people ever encountered, and yet she stayed locked up in her own castle. Dorian had never seen anything like it before, but she didn't think it was enough.

But she was the queen, and Dorian was loyal to her until his dying breath. He would do anything to ensure her happiness, even if it meant feeding into her isolating research. He couldn't help the way his chest tightened when she laughed, or the way his heart stuttered when looked at him. Despite his best efforts, he was completely and utterly hers.

Dorian reached the bottom of the stairs and pushed open the heavy oak door with his shoulder. The acrid smell of complicated chemicals, herbs, and poultices assaulted his senses and made his eyes water. The basement was quite large, though it was now cluttered with various tables, shelves, smelting pots, and even a small make-shift forge they'd constructed in the far corner. In the middle of the room, the queen hunched over a beaker of liquid, looking rapidly between it and a scrap of paper in her hand. Her hair was a mess, and she wore a maid's blouse and trousers she'd probably snatched from the groundsmen. The first and last time she wore one of her proper gowns down here, she'd caught it on fire and nearly burned the entire palace to the ground.

The door swung shut, but she didn't look up.

"Ah, Dorian. Set them all over there next to the tinctures. Come, look at this," she muttered, squatting down and staring into the beaker from the edge of the counter.

"Of course, Your Majesty." He set the stack of books down on a wooden table with dozens of glass vials stacked precariously high, and joined her beside the beaker. "What am I looking at?"

She pointed a nail at the small specks floating freely in the cobalt liquid. "Look. The kystrine is congealing into droplets. Do you know what this means?"

"I'm afraid not, my queen."

She stood, muttering to herself while looking around for something. "Ah!" she cried, seizing a dark, intimidating book from a different table. She flipped through the pages, a few of them singed black from who-knows-what. “Here… when placed in an acidic solution of mugwort extract and its complementary bases, kystrine will congeal and solidify, becoming conducive to extraction and concentration. Combine this new extract with hemp, witch hazel, blah, blah, blah—oh! Once combined and heated, the solution will produce a serum known colloquially as The Blood of Drok’ben. Dorian, this is what I’ve been searching for for years! I've created a potion of immortality!” the queen laughed.

Seemingly without thinking, she jumped up, grabbed his face, and kissed him on the mouth. Stars exploded in Dorian's eyes and his knees nearly buckled. His entire body buzzed with energy, like he'd been struck by lightning; he could practically taste her magic, it was so potent. She pulled away and continued rambling and laughing into her hands, rushing around the basement. Dorian stared ahead, fingers lightly touching his lips. His mind wasn't working right, like she'd put him under a spell or hit him over the head with a brick.

"...back to the library. I won't be needing them anymore. Well, I might need this one for a little while longer, but—hey, are you listening to me? Dorian?"

"Huh, what? Oh, apologies, Your Majesty," he said, still a little dazed. "What did you need?"

"Take these books back to the library. I'll be working late tonight. Bring my food directly down here."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Right away."

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun was setting, and Dorian sat in the kitchens with his chin resting on his hands, staring out at the horizon.

"Ya look awful dreamy today," Maybelle, the head cook, commented. She kneaded a giant ball of dough with rough, calloused hands, and forearms that looked like they could snap Dorian in half. "Might I presume it has somethin' ta do with Her Majesty the Queen?"

His ears reddened and he turned away. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're insinuating, Belle."

"Don't use that silver tongue'a yers with me, boy," she snapped, pointing a flour-covered finger his way. "I've seen a love-struck fool enough times to know one when I see it. You been jittery as a drok'ben-fearin' drunk, tappin' yer fingers like some infernal—"

Dorian stiffened. "What did you say?"

"Yer a love-struck fool."

"No, after that. Drok'ben. What about Drok'ben?" he demanded standing.

Maybelle looked at him oddly. "Just a legend, really. A pixie-tale about a man who tried to live forever and got turned to a monster fer violating the laws o' nature, or somethin'. Real sad tale. Why?"

Dorian stumbled back, putting a hand on the counter. "A monster..." he echoed sickly. It couldn't be true, could it? Just a pixie-tale, as Maybelle said, and yet...

...known colloquially as The Blood of Drok'ben.

"How... how did he do it?" he breathed.

"What?"

"The man in the story, how did he attempt to become immortal!"

Maybelle looked up, thinking. "Ah, I haven't heard the story maself for a while, but he was some sorta chemist. Mixed things that weren't meant to meet 'n stuff like that. Was his own undoin'."

It was ridiculous. Dorian knew it, and yet he couldn't get the image of the queen drinking that cursed serum without researching, or testing it, or even thinking. He bolted from the kitchen before Maybelle could so much as open her mouth to ask what was wrong. He sprinted down the palace corridors, barely avoiding crashing into a group of guards.

"Hey!" one of them yelped. Another, reacting faster, grabbed Dorian's shoulder and yanked him to a stop.

"Why are you running? What's the matter?"

Dorian could barely speak, he was so frantic. "The... the queen, I—I believe she's in grave danger!" He barely got the words out when the guards grew terrifyingly stern.

The one that grabbed him nodded, "Lead the way." They all ran down the hall, and in the back of Dorian's mind, he worried about bursting in on the queen's research with a group of hysterical guards. They rocketed down the staircase, and he nearly tripped and fell a few times, but somehow kept his feet underneath him.

"Your Majesty!" he cried, slamming the door open. The queen looked up from her seat at one of the tables, a thin vial of golden liquid near her hand. Dorian's eyes locked onto it and he rushed forward. She stood, and he tumbled to a stop, barely keeping from running into her.

"What is the meaning of this? Why are you all so upset? Has something happened?"

"You..." Dorian huffed, pointing to the vial. "You can't drink that."

"Excuse me?" Her expression grew dark.

"Your Majesty," he amended, lifting a placating hand. "I know you think it's safe, but I have reason to believe—"

The queen's nostrils flared and she rose to her full height, a few inches taller than himself. "You are out of line, Dorian. You would do well to remember your place."

"But, Your Majesty—"

"Guards!" she cried and the men jumped to attention. "Seize this man. It seems he is under the impression he can tell me what I can and cannot do."

Dorian felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. This man. As if she didn't know his name. Rough hands grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the queen. She picked up the vial and held it between her first two fingers.

"I finally achieve my life's work, and you want to tell me that I shouldn't take it?" She stalked toward him and the pit in his stomach grew to a gaping hole. Despite this, he couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that she was in danger.

"Please, my queen, if you would just listen. I believe that the potion you hold will do far more damage than good! You—" he cut himself off before he could say the words. You don't know what you're doing. Please, I know it's not much to go on, but I feel it in my bones. This is bad.

"And how, pray tell, do you know this?"

"I... I need you to trust me, Your Majesty. I would never strive to inhibit you in any way, and I only seek for your own well-being and the welfare of this kingdom. Please, do not drink the potion," he pleaded, pulling against the guards. The queen eyed him quizzically, and then suddenly her hand was moving, nearing her mouth and oh no, she was going to drink itwaitwait—

"Rosemary!" he shrieked, lunging forward again. "Rose, please, please stop, just—"

SLAP!

"You dare address me so casually you insignificant worm!" the queen hissed. The guards tightened their grips, pulling him back once more. Dorian couldn't see through the tears in his eyes. "Fine," she spat, storming up to him. "You think it's so dangerous? Drink it yourself."

"Wh—What?"

"Prove to me that it really won't work. However, be warned. If it works, and you simply wanted to get your hands on my potion" she growled, "I will make your life a living hell. Now, drink it."

Dorian's mouth opened and closed wordlessly as he struggled for some sort of response, something that would convince her that he would never try to steal from her, much less take her life long dream away from her.

Her expression softened and she placed a hand on his cheek. "You'll do this for me, won't you? If you cared about me, you would want to protect me. Right?"

Dorian's mouth snapped shut. "...Yes, Your Majesty."

The guards released him, looking at each other with mixtures of confusion and concern. The queen held out the golden vial, a murderous look in her eye. Dorian didn't know exactly what the serum would do to him, but if him taking it in her stead would save not only her, but the kingdom as a whole, it was a risk he was willing to take. Her words echoed around his skull. If it works, I'll make your life a living hell.

With a hand that he was surprised was as steady as it was, he took it from her, and drank.

Nothing happened.

It tasted like acid, and, strangely, absorbed into his body the second it touched his tongue. He hadn't even needed to swallow. He looked at the empty vial in his hands, then up at the queen, and his stomach dropped through the bottoms of his feet. She had the calm disposition of a volcano about to decimate an entire countryside.

He'd been wrong. Blinded by his paranoia for her safety and the mumblings of legends that meant nothing. She was the smartest person he knew, of course she'd known what she was doing. His heart wrenched. He'd stolen her one life goal from right in front of her.

"Take him to the dungeons," she breathed, glancing at the guards behind him. "I will decide what to do with him later."

"Yes, Your Majesty," one saluted, stepping forward and reaching for Dorian's arm. Dorian opened his mouth to apologize, beg forgiveness, say something, when the air in the basement shifted. All of the hair on his arms and neck stood stick straight and the room felt electrified. Not a second later, a horrible pain gripped Dorian's entire body and he gasped, falling to his knees. The queen and guards all took a step back, unsure what was going on or what they should do. His eyes burned like hellfire and tears that felt thick and strange streaked down his cheeks. He touched his face, and it came away covered in gold liquid not unlike the potion he'd ingested. He looked up at the queen—at Rosemary—and saw gold light reflecting off her face from his direction. He blinked, and the light flickered. His eyes were glowing.

"What's happening?" she asked, though she sounded more intrigued than afraid. Another wave of pain shook Dorian's body, and he shuddered, groaning.

"I..." he managed through shallow breaths, looking up at her face once more. He managed a pained smile, and laughed wetly. "I'm so sorry." A few seconds later, stars exploded behind his eyes and his mind whited out.

* * * * * * * * * *

One year later.

Dorian didn't remember what it was like to be human. Sure, he saw the servants when they brought down food for the prisoners, or the guards whenever they came to get a kick out of torturing them, but he couldn't remember what it was like. What it was like to have legs, and bob up and down when you walked, or feel your hair tickle your face, or your cheeks grow taut with a smile. None of it. It was depressing to think about the fact that it only took a year for him to forget what he'd looked like for thirty. So, he didn't. He forgot that he had once been a normal man, who loved, and smiled, and laughed. No, now he was just the beast that guarded the dungeon.

The familiar clang of the dungeon entrance being unlatched out of sight atop the winding staircase snapped him out of his thoughts. He was coiled in on himself, his head resting lazily atop his body. Quick, light steps tapped out a staccato that echoed around the cavern. Eventually, they slowed, and a small head peeked around the corner.

It was a girl. A maid. Brought food for the prisoners, most likely. Dorian had quickly discovered after his transformation that he no longer required sleep, food, or even water to survive. Not that he never ate, but the last time he recalled actually eating something was when one of the guards had slandered the queen whilst bringing down a new batch of prisoners. The act of eating in this form disgusted Dorian, but he had quite enjoyed that particular experience.

The maid was short, with brown hair like silk ribbons and a round, freckled face. A flick of his tongue, and he was suddenly aware of the hot blood pounding through her body at abnormally high speeds and her clammy, cold hands. It was strange, this double-sight he'd acquired. He couldn't quite explain it, but it worked in light or dark and he'd found it quite useful in catching prisoners trying to escape.

The girl took a breath, and stepped out into the open. She carried no food tray with her. Dorian stared at her unblinking, his tongue flicking out once more curiously. No one was allowed down here unless given permission from the queen or on an express errand.

"Hello, Drok'ben," she called, hands clasped tightly behind her back. He chuckled internally at the name. He'd been surprised when the guards had begun addressing him as such—the few times they did address him—and found it funny in a sad, tragic sort of way. Often times, he forgot which was his true name.

“I—I know I’m not allowed down here for personal reasons, but I was hoping I might visit a friend of mine? His name is Dorian and I’ve been told he’s being held down here.”

Dorian couldn’t withhold the earth-shaking laugh that rumbled out of him at her words. She let out a squeak of surprise, but didn’t retreat. He slithered forward, slowly unraveling his body with a sound like a rockslide. He could tell her pulse quickened at his movement, and yet she didn’t bolt. She didn’t even look away from him.

“This is not an inn, little one. You do not visit the people here.”

The girl swallowed. “I want to know why he’s down here. No one will tell me. Not even the queen. He is my friend, and I don’t believe he would purposefully act against the queen. I’m... worried about him.”

“Do not concern yourself with him. He is lost.”

“What does that mean?”

Dorian bristled, “You try my patience, child. Get out before I decide to do something about it.”

She pressed her lips together, looking as if she were about to cry. “All right, but would you at least tell him that Esther came to visit him?”

Dorian froze. Bouncing hair. Giggles. Sunlight cast across a pale, freckled face. Faint annoyance that faded into fond amusement. Berry tarts snuck under his door in the middle of the night, and constantly asking what he was up to around the castle.

“Um, Drok’ben?” Esther asked softly, looking somewhere between concerned and absolutely terrified.

"Leave," he managed, turning away from her and burying himself beneath the weight of his own monstrous body. Stop it. Stop remembering. It will only cause you pain, he thought bitterly. Despite his attempts to run away, he heard her reluctant retreating steps as they faded and the click of the dungeon door. He sat like that for a long time, lamenting the fact that he never slept. Then, at least, he could escape his life for some stretch of time. Over the course of his time in the dungeon, he'd discovered a sort of pseudo-sleep he could slip into if he was undisturbed for long enough. Less like being lost in thought, and more like drowning in them. Completely submerging himself in the darkness of his own mind. He would still be aware of his surroundings and able to "wake up" if someone came down the stairs, but time seemed to pass a little faster.

"Would you look at that," a hoarse voice—a woman's voice—chuckled from the direction of the cells. It was soft, and a normal human would not have been able to pick it out. Dorian didn't move. "Never seen a young lady get the best of a demon before."

"Be quiet."

The voice cackled, devolving into a fit of coughing. "Excuse me if I'm not trembling in fear, but a butler turned into a wingless, legless dragon doesn't exactly fit my idea of intimidating." The other prisoners gasped and hissed at her to keep her mouth shut, did she want to die?

Dorian shifted, and sighed tiredly, "Do not make me repeat myself."

"Oh, but you want to hear what I have to say. I can offer you something that no one else can."

He considered it for a while, playing the options in his mind. He really had nothing to lose by listening to her, aside from peace and quiet. If she began to annoy him, he could always break into her cell and eat her. The queen would not appreciate him eating her prisoners, but this particular captive had been locked up for years—even before he'd... changed. He doubted Rosemary had any use for her other than keeping her out of the way.

He poked his head out from underneath his body and examined the rows of cells extending out behind him. He could see the heat of all of the prisoners radiating through the cracks in the walls. The voice had come from down the hall a ways. His head was bigger than the doors, and if he did end up deciding to eat her, he'd have to damage the walls. Quite the effort to go to for something so worthless. But what did he have to lose, really?

Sighing, he slowly slithered forward toward the cells. The hallway was narrow, and his body rubbed against both walls with almost a metallic clinking against the iron bars. Usually, he'd avoid small, constricting places like this as he wouldn't be able to turn around, and moving backwards wasn't exactly this body's forte. Thankfully, however, the cell block was a square U shape, and he'd be able to loop around. The other prisoners—the ones that were conscious, at least—grew deadly silent, and a few even began to cry or mutter to themselves.

Dorian reached the cell door and peered inside with one of his eyes. The prisoner in question sat slumped against the stone wall of her cell, hair matted with blood and several cuts traveling up and down her body. She looked horrible.

"Well?" he demanded.

She raised her head to show her face. From her vantage point, she'd only be able to see his one eye, and a portion of his head, and yet her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, you're beautiful," she breathed. Dorian tensed, resulting in a horrible scraping noise from the other cell doors he was pressed up against. Other prisoners gasped or screamed.

"Do not waste my time."

"Right... sorry," she mumbled, still entranced. With what looked like a considerable amount of pain, the woman dragged herself to the door. She reached out with a tentative hand, then pulled back. "May I?"

"No," he snapped, "You may not. Now, tell me what this offer is before I lose my patience and eat you." The woman pulled herself into a cross-legged position and smiled.

"You are far more powerful than you realize, Dorian," she began. It was strange hearing someone say his real name for once. Even the queen herself called him Drok'ben. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but didn't interrupt. "Being quite the accomplished witch, myself, I'd be willing to help you harness that power."

"And why would I want to do that?"

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? You're a prisoner here, too. Don't you want a chance to esca—"

"I am not a prisoner," he roared, something inside him clicking. The witch's eyebrows shot up. "I am a loyal servant to the queen, and will perform my duty to the best of my abilities, unlike you, traitorous swine."

"You mean to tell me you turned yourself into a demon, and volunteered to guard a dungeon for the rest of time?"

"Without question," he hissed with more conviction than he'd heard in his voice in months. He couldn't help it. He loved her with his entire being. Even if she hadn't forced him to drink the potion, he would have done it anyway. Again, and again, if it meant her happiness.

"Oh, sweetie," she murmured, reached out toward him again. He jerked back, cracking his head against the ceiling and sending a shower of dust over the both of them.

"Who are you, and what do you want?"

The witch smiled.

"My name is Amaryllis, and I can help you turn human again."

* * * * * * * * * *

The first time he'd actually done it, he broke down crying for hours. It was simple magic, according to Amaryllis, just a basic transfiguration spell, but it had taken him weeks. Not because he was weak—Amaryllis explained that he had more inherent magic within him than most other magical creatures in all of the Witchlands, if not the world—but because being an enormous serpent instructed by a human witch confined to a small cell with limited resources turned out to be quite the challenge.

In the end, however, he did it. Kind of. He'd had a sort of existential crisis when he'd discovered the left side of his face and body, but after a fair bit of long-distance reassurance, Dorian was able to come to terms with it. On the bright side, he still retained all of the enhanced senses and inhuman strength that he had as a serpent, but nothing could compare to being in a human body once more. It was amazing. Getting to run, and jump, and stretch, and speak with a normal tongue and human teeth and oh, it was bliss. He would have never turned back, however shortly after this accomplishment, a group of guards entered the dungeon and Dorian, panicking, had shifted back into his demon form before they could see him like that. Unfortunately, he found that he still lacked the ability to sleep, but he found this a small price to pay for being able to turn human again.

As the days passed, he became more and more comfortable with the transition. He was able to make the shift smoothly and effortlessly, now—and, after much trial and error, figure out how to transform back wearing clothes. A miracle, really, as running around the dungeon stark naked hadn't been the best of experiences. A simple suit and dress shoes, just like he used to wear.

He spent as much time as he could as a human, sitting in front of Amaryllis' cell learning to harness his powers.

Despite the fact that he considered the witch a shaky friend and was indeed grateful for her help, he had no illusions about his remaining loyalties, and kept no secrets from her about it. If the queen asked him to kill her, he would in an instant. She never seemed surprised at his comments, but rather, a bit sad.

He also grew to know the other prisoners under his watch, as well. Anouk, a blacksmith who had taken up illegal smuggling as a way to pay off a debt. Killian, a masterful arcanist who had been incarcerated for malpractice. Jerika, an unhinged murderer who took an unsettling interest in his scales, human form or otherwise. Aside from the crazy ones, Amaryllis seemed to be the only one who actually tolerated his presence. Anouk, whose entire family had been killed in some accident, held his life without concern and frequently taunted Dorian in an attempt to get him to kill him.

It went on like this for another year or so, Dorian steadily growing in magical ability and surety of himself as a person. The only times he returned to his demon form was when guards or servants came down. Thanks to his hearing, he was usually able to hear the door open even when he sat amid the cells.

So, when he returned to the large open area out in the main part of the dungeon and found Queen Rosemary standing there, dumbfounded at the lack of a giant serpentine demon, you can imagine Dorian's surprise. He hadn't even heard her come in, let alone descend all of the stairs. He hadn't been that distracted, right? Or maybe he was just growing complacent?

He cleared his throat, straightening his jacket and approaching the queen. "Your Majesty."

She jumped, her eyes shooting to him. A dagger was in her hand, which she pointed at him from across the room. "Who are you? What happened to..." she trailed off, unbelieving recognition flashing through her eyes. "Dorian?"

"Indeed." He couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"You're... human again."

He chuckled, "Not quite. But human enough, my queen."

"But the serum," she said, still rife with confusion, "It's irreversible."

"Quite so. This," he gestured to himself, "is a simple transfiguration spell. I am still, and forever will be, that demon."

She took a step back. "You never knew how to perform magic before."

"It seems being transformed into a magical being has its side effects," he said, keeping a good distance between himself and the queen. How he longed to rush to her, to hold her hand with his own, but from the wariness in her eyes, he could tell that he wouldn't get far if he so much as took a step in her direction. No, she wasn't afraid. He expected no less from the most powerful witch in the land. Wary, on the other hand? Very much so.

Moving slowly, so as not to spook the queen, he lowered to a knee and placed a fist against his chest. "I am at your service, my queen."

He didn't move as he heard her approach, keeping his gaze at the stony ground. A hand, softer than silk, slid against his cheek and brought his face up to meet her eyes. Dorian felt his eyes grow wet. She'd touched his scales. Willingly touched them without a hint of disgust or derision.

"Even after all this time," she whispered, pulling him to his feet, "You are still loyal to me?"

"Of course, my queen. Forever, and always," he breathed incredulously. How could he have been so careless? Surely, it was his fault she had forgotten. He hadn't been loyal enough. Guilt still gnawed at his insides when he remembered drinking the potion. Her face as he stole what could have been her biggest achievement.

She cocked her head to the side, running her thumb across Dorian's cheekbone and sending shivers down his entire body, and, with a hint of a beautiful smile, asked, "Do you love me?"

"Yes," he said wetly, relief flooding him. "I loved you from the moment I met you."

Her smile split open, revealing a perfect row of teeth. "Good," she said, and pulled him into a searing kiss. His mind spun and his entire body burned, like he'd downed an entire glass of the strongest whiskey from the palace cellars. Her magic washed over him, seeping into every bit of his being and making it hers. Not that it was particularly necessary, but Dorian didn't mind. He felt weak in the knees, like he'd pass out from the sheer power of the kiss. He was out of breath when she finally pulled away, looking as put together and beautiful as ever.

"I believe a change in occupation is in order."

* * * * * * * * * *

Two years later.

The throne room was full of every one of the palace officials. Generals, magistrates, elders, even the queen herself. Dorian sat coiled behind the throne, where the queen enjoyed him the most. Even though the throne itself was intimidating, his body would take up most of the back area, small as it was, and proved quite the terrifying display. It made the "right sort of impression" as she had explained when first giving him the role of enforcer. He loved his job. Not only did he accompany the queen wherever she went, but he also got to punish those who dared speak or act against her. Sure, she still had guards for the everyday sort of threats, but nothing struck more fear and respect into the hearts of her subjects than seeing her walk down the street flanked by a demon.

Today, however, was different. Before them, bound in chains, was the traitorous witch Ursula, a terrorist who had attempted a coup d'état against the queen. Next to her, a black cat had been stuffed into a small cage—her familiar, most likely. Dorian smiled internally as he remembered the look on her face when all of her rebellious troops turned on her. Had she really thought that she could outsmart the Witch Queen herself? In truth, they had known about the rebellion from the start, and and made sure to supply her efforts with spies and double-agents. She only received the information that the queen wanted her to know. Of course, there had been a few unforeseen complications, including the destruction of the dungeons and the escape of all of the prisoners, but in the end their gains outweighed their losses.

Dorian felt an all too familiar sense of guilt rake through him as he remembered the prison break. He remembered the look of silent pleading Amaryllis had shot him as he'd come barreling down the stairs to kill them all. He'd told the queen that none had survived. In reality, they'd all escaped, because he'd been too weak to fulfill his duty. How pathetic.

"Bring the traitor forward," Queen Rosemary stated, and two guards shoved Ursula forward. She fell to her knees, numb with disbelief. The queen grinned wickedly. "Oh, wait! I remember you! You're that little girl who called herself the Dragon Witch. Right? What a cute little nickname. Well, anyway, you have been found guilty of treason, acts of terror against the Witchlands, malpractice of magic, and the deaths of hundreds of innocents."

"But that wasn't me!" she shrieked, looking up. "It was your men who—"

"Shut up," a guard snapped, cuffing her sharply over the head. She fell silent, tears streaming down her face.

The queen looked down at her with glee. "You wish to plead your case? By all means," she sneered, gesturing to the room full of her subordinates.

Ursula looked up at her through her hair, breathing heavily. "You aren't a queen."

The whole room stiffened. The queen's nostrils flared, but she said nothing.

"You're nothing more than a vicious tyrant who's so obsessed with power she can't even see how her kingdom despises her," she spat. Dorian tensed up, making his body even bigger and more imposing. He moved to strike her, but the queen held up a hand and he stopped, despite the look of absolute terror washing through Ursula's face at his movement.

"Common law dictates that any witch found guilty of one or more of these crimes is subject to death by The Hounds," she said with a smile. A shiver ran through the room, and even Dorian would have flinched if he'd been in his human form. What a horrible way to die. Ursula paled, and the queen continued. "However, I believe a different sort of punishment is in order. Since you think I'm such a vicious tyrant, you will merely be banished from the Witchlands. A slap on the wrist, really," she laughed. Dorian, along with the rest of the court looked at her incredulously. Was she serious? However, looking at Ursula's face, it was evident what the intended purpose was. It was an insult. The queen was insinuating that Ursula's rebellion wasn't drastic enough for a death sentence, or even incarceration. She was effectively being put in time out for the rest of her life.

She went on, "I think you'll find that life on the outside isn't as kind as you'd like to believe. You'll have to tell me how the view is from the human world. Send me a postcard, or something."

Ursula bared her teeth, "You insufferable little—"

"Guards, take her to the edge of the Witchlands and see that she leaves for good, will you?" she said with a wave of her hand, dismissing the entire affair. While Dorian would have loved to kill Ursula himself for her treasonous acts, but he couldn't deny the truly magnificent mind of the queen. Now, she could be justified in being called merciful, while doing possibly the worst thing aside from killing Ursula.

The witch and her familiar were dragged from the throne room.

Surely, that would be the last they ever saw of the Dragon Witch.

#tw toxic relationship #toxic relationship tw #manipulation #tw manipulation #tw emotional abuse #emotional abuse tw #tw graphic imagery #graphic imagery tw #implications of torture #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #fantasy au #backstory #janus backstory

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nate-gibson · 3 years

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Week 4

22/03/2021 Monday

Controller Camera

Today I got the PlayStation and Xbox controllers to work with the players. My group has decided that we'd like to have somewhat of a working prototype by Wednesday's class so that we have more feedback to show for assignment 1. Because of this, we'd like to have working controllers for both PlayStation and Xbox.

Ashton and Matt were having issues when trying to use the PlayStation controller, so Matt has lent me one of his spare PlayStation controllers. I spent today fixing some issues where the right joystick on the controller would not accurately rotate around the player. I fixed the camera issue by creating a new input axis that was relative to the Xbox and PlayStation controllers. The Xbox and PlayStation controllers use different axis for some weird reason, so I had to create a separate axis for each controller. After this, I just had to set each axis to their respective controllers.

This is a very broken way of getting the controllers working but it’ll do for Wednesday's class.

Gif of working Playstation controller camera movement:

23/03/2021

Tuesday

New player prefabs

Today I made four new player prefabs, two for keyboard (WASD and Arrow keys) and two controller (Xbox and PlayStation), I also set up a spawning system for these prefabs.

I created four spawn-able players from the player character that I had most up to date with my changes, the first one had WASD controls on a keyboard, the second Arrow controls on the keyboard, the third Xbox controller controls and the fourth PlayStation controller controls. I had to make separate players for the Xbox and PlayStation controls as a temporary fix so that I can differentiate the axis that I created yesterday. There is supposedly code that can determine which controller needs which axis, this was not working for me when testing it so for now I’ll be using this system.

Adjustments to the spawning system

I then had to do some tweaking to my player spawning system. This required tweaking as I had it so that either A or X on the Xbox or

I then found the issue that Ashton and Matt had told me about when trying to test out the player on a PlayStation controller. It was because of some code that I had introduced in the spawning system I had created. I had basically made it so that if A is pressed on controller one an Xbox prefabbed player would spawn and if controller 2 presses X a PlayStation prefabbed player would spawn. this was proven to be an issue for my group mates as they only had one controller being a PlayStation controller and with the code that I had set up, that meant that the Xbox prefabbed player would spawn. To fix this I just made it so that controller one would spawn a PlayStation controller and controller two would spawn an Xbox controller. For now, I have to use this system for spawning as I don't have time to set up one that can determine whether or not it is a PlayStation or Xbox controller.

Bug fixing

Lastly while testing I found a bug where if one player is on top of the other players head and they both jump at the same time they can get stuck inside of each other. To fix this, I added a boolean that when a player is jumping would be on and when the player is touching the ground would be off. I then added this Boolean as a requirement to be false when a player is on top of another player’s head.

24/03/2021

Wednesday

Camera Tweak

Today was the day of the crits, they were scheduled in the afternoon, so my team and I did some small tweaks to the player's camera while waiting. We were trying to find the perfect values to give to the camera movement to allow it to be smooth and comfortable. we loaded up Risk of rain 2 on my laptop to see how that game's camera functioned, upon doing some testing with it we went back to the camera movement and did some additional tweaking using that risk of rain 2’s camera as inspiration.

Disappearing Jump Pads

After doing this we still had time to spare so I decided to mess around in the unity project and came up with the idea for a disappearing jump pad. This was easy to make as it was just my jump pad and disappearing platform combined, it worked by thrusting the player upwards when they collide with the platform and then upon the player leaving the platform the platform is disabled. I then duplicated the new disappearing jump pad a bunch so it could be tested later.

Crits

It was now time for crits, we got the people in our crit group to come over and test out our game. hey gave us the following feedback:

Improve the lighting/aesthetics.

The camera is too close to the characters, feels claustrophobic.

More game modes/party games (Obstacle course, spleef, infected).

Further jump distance if the player is sprinting.

Improved Skybox.

Focus heavily on the multiplayer aspect (more teamwork puzzles).

Power-ups/Upgrades/Crystal life source that contains different abilities.

Mini Bot that carries your upgrades and parts.

Enemies to fight.

Adding extra horizontal movement when on jump pads.

Image of Crit testing:

Feedback from Game Jam

This would also be a good time to discuss our game jams feedback and rating. As I have stated we created an earlier version of the project for a week-long Game Jam, after the submission ended on the 22nd of Feb at 12am it then started a two-week-long voting period. During this, the contestants were to play other games vote on them and give feedback.

We received the following placement out of almost 2000 total entries:

We received the following feedback grouped together by Ashton:

Positive Feedback:

The feedback below is purely positive talking about how much they enjoyed BroBots. It was great to see as it not only removed any concerns we had of our game but also lead to us deciding to continue with this as our project for studio.

Critical Feedback:

The feedback below this is constructive criticism talking about what they felt the game needed. Such as a checkpoint system as they found it annoying to start from the beginning after every failure. They also talked about how this could work better as a coop game which we have now switched to. The need for some sort of explanation on the game's controls. How they found the timer system to be annoying, this was something the group decided to remove as we want the game to be challenging without the need for a count down. Lastly some smaller critics about improving the audio and menu screen. All of this was much-needed criticism that has helped us to create a much more enjoyable prototype.

These images were cut together by Ashton

Extra speed when on jump pad

The feedback from the crit session that I found most important for me was that they recommended adding extra horizontal speed when on a jump pad. This isn't something that I thought of before and made a lot of sense for our game.

I liked the idea of this so much that when I got home, I immediately added it to the player. So now once you've bounced on a jump pad you will get an extra movement boost which lasts until you touch the ground again.

New Directional Jump pads

Lastly, when looking over the new Disappearing jump pad code I thought of a potential way to make jump pads that affected the player's movement on the X and Z axis. This is something I'd wanted to do for a long time but had no idea how to approach it and had more pressing issues to fix. But since we had just finished the required elements needed for the crit session, I now had time to implement this new obstacle.

The way the jump pad works is by increasing the player's height in a burst upwards while having a downwards gravitational force on the object to push it back down to the ground level. I couldn't use the same gravitational force to cancel the player's momentum on the X and Z axis as there is not a gravitational force applied on the player's horizontal axis. To get around this I made it so that once the player has been pushed if they exceed a certain speed on the X or Z axis in the positive or negative it will decrease by 1 every frame until it reaches 0. This allows the player to be thrust in a horizontal direction and then to have that thrust decrease over time until it reaches 0 giving a nice and clean pushing movement.

Gif of disappearing jump pads and extra player speed when jumping on pads:

Gif of new directional jump pads:

26/03/2021

Friday

Ragdolls working with jump pads.

Today I decided to look into getting the rag-dolls working with the jump pads. the reason it doesn't work is that when the player is in his normal state he is controlled by a character controller this controller is what is used to calculate thrust away from a lift platform. when the player is in the rag-dolling state its character controller is disabled this makes it unable to move and also interact with jump pads.

Because of this, I had to create a new system for adding thrust to a player. I use the character controller to add thrust because that is what controls the player's gravity. But since this is turned off and the ragdoll has a rigidbody components on it I'll be using something called rigidbody add force. I set up a new system with the jump pads so that when the player is in the ragdoll state and if a part of its body collides with the jump pad it will add a thrusting force to it determined by what type of pad direction it is (y, x, or z).

Gif of ragdolls working with jump pads:

#ctec708

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andreafmn · 3 years

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Collision - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,434

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at it’s first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 1/?

A/N: There’s no Cullen’s in the first chapter, we’ll see them soon though. Also, Esme is in the story but her and Carlisle are not together romantically. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

Going back home felt bizarre for (Y/N). It had been 4 years since she had moved away from the La Push Reservation on a scholarship to a prep boarding school in Seattle. Although students were expected to go back home during summer break, she spent her time in summer taking college classes or attending internships in the area, so going back didn’t fit into her plans.

But she had just graduated from high school and decided that taking a gap year could not hurt. Seeing her family wouldn’t be that bad either.

(Y/N) Uley had not reunited physically with Sam and Allison Uley since she left for school, only calling occasionally but always being to busy for anything else. The mother and son duo had grown accustomed to the short phone calls and vague emails they would receive from their studious family member. The Uley siblings used to be a very close pair, being only a year apart helped their bond. But since (Y/N) had invested all her energy into her high school career, their relationship rapidly dissipated; replaced by untold secrets and life-changing details.

The Uley girl had no idea what was in store when she went back home. She had left when she was 14 and was coming back an 18-year-old with a high school diploma and a bachelor’s degree. (Y/N) had always been an over achiever and applying to the school she had and taking dual enrollment was no surprise to her mother and brother.

The bus ride from Seattle to La Push lasted almost eight hours, so (Y/N) equipped herself with two books, plenty of snacks, and a fully charged iPod to handle the ride. She had gotten the earliest ride available always enjoying the intriguing mystery that 3 am travels brought. Her brown eyes surveyed the curious characters that voyaged alongside her a young woman sat with a sleeping baby in her arms, the dark circles under her eyes signaled the baby was still a newborn getting adapted to a sleep schedule; there was a middle-aged man, his eyes attached to a computer and a briefcase tight to his side; there were two teenagers, backpacks at their feet and shared headphones in between them. They were wearing light blue polo shirt and her school insignia embroidered on the left side of their shirt. She had seen them in passing, two freshmen still energetic and excited for their school life. She looked at them and smiled, remembering being in their shoes four years ago.

Four hours in, (Y/N) had finished one book, and the bus made its first stop in Port Angeles, the place where everyone that traveled with her got off. It wasn’t surprising to see from the top of her book as everyone got off, she didn’t recognize any of them from the reservation so it would have been surprising if any of them had stayed in the bus. For the next four hours, (Y/N) continued to read her second book surrounded by a comforting silence. The sun had risen about an hour ago and a nice warmth was streaming from the bus window and (Y/N) felt herself drift in bliss.

Her eyes fluttered open once again when she felt the bus finally rolling to a stop. She blinked a few times as she adjusted her vision to the bright midday sun and her brain restarted normal functions. The brunette gathered the bag with her travel companions and got up from the chair she had been glued to for eight hours.

“Have a good day,” the driver chimed as (Y/N) was walking down the bus.

“You too, drive safe!” The girl smiled and got her two suitcases out of the side of the bus.

(Y/N) got startled as she felt two arms wrap around her midriff and quickly swung her elbow back.

“Woah, woah, careful with those arms, (Y/N). It’s just me,” the girl turned around, a gleaming grin adorning her face.

“Sam!” She jumped onto the open arms of her older brother, seeing the years that had passed on his tired face.

“Look at you, darling. All grown up,” Allison Uley smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Mom, I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) hugged her mother tightly, noticing the difference in heights of her and her mother. Another thing she noticed was the strain between her mother and her brother. Before she left, they all had a very close relationship but now it felt like so many things had interlaced into their bond. “Let’s go home yeah?”

“I’m, actually I gotta go to my house,” Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“What house?” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I moved out, but I’ll come over for your welcome dinner.”

“Sam, she just came back. Don’t you wanna spend time with your sister?” Allison begged, wanting to have both of her children under the same roof again.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, mom. Leave it.” Sam sighed. “I’ll see you at dinner, (Y/N).”

He kissed the top of his sister’s head and left. He wanted to tell them the whole truth, but he knew he couldn’t. Knowing that information would put them in a level of danger that he didn’t want them to be aware of.

(Y/N) stared at the retreating figure of his brother as he ran down the street, leaving her and their mother.

“What’s up with him?”

“Oh darling, if only I knew.” Allison sighed grabbing one of the suitcases her daughter had brought. “Let’s just head to the house so you can rest.”

“Yeah, let’s.” (Y/N) gave Allison a comforting smile and wheeled the second suitcase towards the truck.

The drive home was as short as she remembered, and the house hadn’t changed a bit. She walked up the steps to the porch and opened the old wooden door; it still made the same creaking sound. The house still smelled of seawater and pine, an odd mix but a comforting scent. (Y/N) regretted all the summers she missed here and all the days she spent away from her family.

She made her way up the stairs and entered the first door to the right. She ran her fingers through the stickers she had pasted on there when she was 13: a wolf, a rainbow, a heart, and a picture of her family. Her name still carved at the highest point of the door and she smiled at the memory of that. She sat atop Sam’s shoulder when she was just 12 years old, a trembling hand holding a pick as she carved as best as she could the name “(Y/N)”.

The doorknob as it was turned let out a squeaky groan and the door needed an extra push to open. The room had not changed at all. The walls were still painted a light green, the light switch still had the pink princess cover, the bedding had the little purple butterflies embroidered on them, and the pillows were all pink and purple. In a corner rested the five boxes (Y/N) had sent to the house from her dorm room.

“It hasn’t changed a bit,” (Y/N) commented as she felt her mother’s presence behind her.

“I didn’t want to change it until you came back,” Allison smiled. “But I’m sure you’d like to give this place a bit of a makeover.”

“Definitely,” she laughed. “I think I’ll go to Port Angeles this weekend, doing some shopping can’t hurt.”

“That’s true.” Allison side hugged her daughter as she laughed. She headed towards the door but stopped when she was called upon by her daughter.

“Hey, mom?”

��Yes, darling?”

“By any chance, do you know where Sam’s living?” Allison’s body stiffened but shared the information with her daughter. Maybe she could figure out why he’d just disappeared.

(Y/N) was surprised to hear he was living with a girl she barely knew. She knew of Emily Young through Leah Clearwater, but not much after that. Last thing she had heard Leah and Sam had been dating. She certainly had missed some very important pivotal points in her brother’s life.

The house wasn’t far, so she decided to walk there. Upon arrival she could feel the warm and inviting aura that the quaint house emanated. The blue door called to her as she knocked on it. It finally opened and revealed her brother.

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my big brother. Is that such a crime?” She laughed.

“No, of course. Come in,” he smiled begrudgingly. “I don’t have much time so we gotta make this quick.”

“Wow, feeling the love there,” she chuckled passing through the doorframe.

“There’s just some things that I have to do before dinner tonight.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I just wanted to ask if you could help me on the weekend with my room. I’m bringing it four years into the present, gotta make sure it looks like an 18-year-old sleeps there.”

“Yeah, I’ll come over Sunday afternoon and help you then. Anything else you need?”

“Well, not exactly, but it wouldn’t help to catch up. You know make up for four years of chit chat conversations and get me up to date with at the happenings in your life.”

“There’s not much to say other than I moved out and I’m engaged.” He said nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?! You’re engaged and failed to mention that to me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, (Y/N).”

“Yes, it is, Sam! You’re getting married and this is the first I’m ever hearing of this or the fact that you moved out or the fact that you’re engaged to your ex-girlfriend’s cousin. I think it is a big deal.”

“Okay, yeah. Kind of a long story on that one.”

“Enough time to tell it to me?” Sam hesitated. He could hear Emily’s truck approaching and two male voices coming back from patrol. He needed to get (Y/N) out of the house before they got here.

“Maybe another time. I’ll call you on Sunday, yeah?” Sam asked as he nudged his sister out of his house.

“I guess.” (Y/N) mumbled as she was pushed out the front door. “Bye.”

“See ya.” Sam kissed the side of her head and closed the door.

(Y/N) left the house with more questions about her brother that she had begun with but didn’t want to press on. There was no use if he wasn’t going to talk, so she walked back home.

Her mother had gone out, possibly grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner, giving (Y/N) time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. She walked up the stairs and into her room, plopping down on the bed not caring how she landed. All she wanted was to close her eyes and rest.

By six in the afternoon her eyes fluttered open once again. She could smell the dinner her mother had been cooking. The room had darkened as the sun was going down and thankfully her mother had turned on a lamp for (Y/N) to have some vision. The girl got up from bed and grabbed some clothes from her suitcase to take a quick shower before dinner. She stripped all her clothes off and let the water wash away all the hours of the day. As soon as the water started turning cold, she shut it off and got out.

For a second, (Y/N) stopped and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She barely recognized the girl staring back. The bags under her eyes were deeper than the last time she had seen herself in this specific mirror, her cheekbones were more defined than before, her skin paler than usual since she hadn’t really seen the sun in a while.

It didn’t take her long to change into some new clothes and head downstairs, where she saw her mother on the phone. Disappointment evident in her eyes.

“Sam, it’s your sister… please… ok, fine. Just don’t flake on her on Sunday,” Allison sighed, turning off her phone and slamming it on the counter.

“Everything okay, mom?”

“Oh, yeah, darling. Your brother won’t be able to join us, but Billy and Jacob, and the Clearwaters are on their way, and I also invited Charlie and Bella Swan. I hope you don’t mind that they join in.”

“No, I don’t mind. What about Paul?”

“You know I’ve never liked that boy, honey.” (Y/N) stared at her mother. Refusing to continue the conversation until Allison answered the question. “I did invite him, but he couldn’t come.”

“I love seeing you make an effort,” (Y/N) laughed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll set the table.”

“Thank you, darling.”

(Y/N) grabbed the 10 plates needed for the night and the respective cutlery. She still remembered how her mother liked the table arranged and set it as such. She set the vase filled with fresh flowers in the middle of the table, leaving space on the sides for the dinner platters. The arrival of the guests was soon after. (Y/N) had grown alongside Jacob and Leah, and on the summers, she would spend her times with the Swan girl. Once Seth was born, he became very close with the Uley girl.

“My oh my, (Y/N), how you’ve grown.” Billy Black grabbed Uley’s hand and smiled up at her, with the warmness that summer brought.

“Indeed, I have, and you haven’t aged a day in four years. What’s your secret?”

“It’s in the genes,” he laughed alongside the young girl. She’d always been a charmer, he thought “You remember my boy, Jacob, right?”

“How could I ever forget? Hey, Jake!”

“How you’ve been, (Y/N)?” Jacob approached his friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Been an awful long time.”

“Four years, that’s not much,” she smiled. “Come in.”

The father and son duo entered the house, and next came the Clearwaters. Harry, Sue, and Seth. No Leah. They had always been close to the Uleys, a bit of divide coming after the rupture between the eldest offspring of each family.

“Oh, wow, where has the time gone?” Sue commented, greeting the girl with a tight hug.

“4 years really do go by quick, don’t they?”

“They sure do, Harry.” (Y/N) smiled, motioning the couple in.

Finally, Seth walked in and engulfed (Y/N) in a tight hug. The girl was 5 years his elder, but he considered her one of his best friends. Seth and Paul were the only two people (Y/N) kept in close contact other than her family. For some time, Paul and (Y/N) had drifted apart but Seth always sent his monthly excited letters, updating her on what he had been up to.

“I missed you, (Y/N)!” Little Seth spoke into a bundle of brunette hair.

“I missed you too, Seth.” She smiled as he walked past her, joining his parents.

The last to enter were Sheriff Swan and Bella. The cop smiled at the girl and gave her a quick hug, commenting on how much she had grown, a low chuckle leaving his throat. Bella entered with hunched shoulders, possibly not wanting to be there but she still smiled at her old friend. Vague memories filled the girls’ heads of summer play dates and days at the beach.

“It’s been quite some time, huh?” Bella muttered.

“It sure has. It’s great to see you again,” (Y/N) smiled. “How have you liked Forks now that you’re back full time. Still hating cold weather?”

“Yeah,” the pale girl chuckled. “But it has its better days.”

The girls joined in a quick giggled before joining the rest of the group at the dinner table. Allison had already set the table and had said her hellos to the group.

The three males had engaged in sports conversations and the teens were all huddled in the kitchen munching on cheese and crackers and engaging in small chit chat.

“So, (Y/N), 18 and already a degree, how does that feel?” Jacob asked, stuffing his mouth with cheese and ham.

“Well, as good as it can be. Don’t know exactly what I’m gonna do now. All I know is that I’m taking a year off and taking a breather for the first time.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I just can’t believe you’d spend all this time going to school, twice as much. I don’t like school at all,” Seth chimed in, picking apart the cheese and filling his mouth.

“So, you spent these past four years studying, including your summers?” Bella added.

“That’s correct,” (Y/N) smiled. “And now I have a degree and nothing to do with it.”

The group chuckled and moved towards the adults as they were being called to dinner. In the center of the table was a big platter of spaghetti and meatballs, (Y/N)’s favorite food, a tray of toasted garlic bread, and a bowl of a colorful mix of spring salad.

(Y/N) always enjoyed her mother’s cooking. Even on her saddest days, Allison’s cooking could warm her heart at any time. She and her mother had a very close relationship, even after four years of distance. Since her father left early in her life, her mother had always tried her hardest to make sure both her children were loved and cared for. And she stayed wondering where she had gone wrong with Sam and hoping (Y/N) didn’t stray away as her eldest had.

The dinner group had all taken their seats at the dinner table and were passing around the various platters, serving themselves their desired portions. Jacob and Seth were overfilling their plates, receiving a laugh from their respective parents. Charlie, Harry, and Billy were filling their plates with more protein than carbohydrates and the moms at the table smiled at the males engulfing the meatballs. (Y/N) looked around the table and smiled. It had been a long time since she had sat down with the important people in her life and was relaxed, even if two of them were missing.

After everyone was served, everything went almost quiet. Some background music could be heard from the living room and the sound of forks hitting plates and mouths chewing filled the environment. Everyone was comfortable with the silence, but there was still one question in everyone’s mind.

“Where’s Sam?” Seth spoke up, voicing everyone’s question. The whole table paused in action and Seth felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Sue softly elbowed her son. “What?”

“It’s okay, Sue,” (Y/N) smiled. “He couldn’t be here, bud.”

“Maybe he was feeling bad, like Leah.” He added earning a burning stare from both his parents.

“Maybe, Seth.”

“I just wanna apologize for our daughter missing this dinner. I know she really wanted to see you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Harry, it’s really no problem. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her soon enough.” (Y/N) smiled trying to ease the tension felt in the room. She could see her mother gripping her fork tightly as she kept her head down. “But I would also like to apologize on behalf of Sam, I know he wanted to be here.”

Everyone simply nodded and went back to their plates. The rest of the evening was enjoyable. No one mentioned the pair that was missing, and (Y/N)’s past four years were questioned in depth. She had an answer for everything except “What are you gonna do now?”

She didn’t know and that’s what she answered. She mentioned she wanted to study medicine, having finished a degree in biology and always loved taking care of other people. Sue was excited, being a nurse herself. But (Y/N) had landed at a standstill in terms of her life and career. A vast portion of her life had been defined as a student and now that this part was over, she didn’t know who she was.

The dinner festivities were over soon thereafter, leaving Allison and (Y/N) to clean up after the group. The Uley pair put everything away in silence, exhausted from the eventful day. (Y/N) could see as her mother wiped away a few stray tears, sniffling behind her hair. The girl knew better than to bring the topic back up and left her mother with a kiss on the temple and a good night.

Upstairs, (Y/N) prepared herself for bed. The event had drained nay energy still left in her and she plopped down on the bed with a small thud. She had prepared her clothes for the next day, knowing her energy would also be drained but still excited to have this change. Her eyes fluttered close as she heard in the distance her mother’s quiet footsteps on the staircase, darkness overtaking her.

Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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kuroko26 · 5 years

Text

Kagaminette fic part 2

This is basically a whimsical, somewhat silly sequel of a kagaminette fic in an "Oni-chan AU" created by @gale-of-the-nomads that I wrote.

Had this on the making since May but I was a tad stuck....

Anyway, I hope you enjoy

---------------------------------

Part 2: let's get some ice cream

Another day started for Kagami Tsurugi. Just yesterday, she made the resolution of winning the love of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a classmate of her fencing partner and fellow student, Adrien Agreste. At first, she didn't have a positive opinion of the younger girl because she appeared to be stringing Adrien along but it was all a misunderstanding and once that was cleared and they actually interacted one on one, Kagami was completely stricken by Cupid's arrow. She fell in love with Marinette!

That being said, she was not blind to the blue haired girl's infatuation to her rival. After all, they knew each other for a considerable period of time and she could understand what Marinette sees in him...at least until recent events.

When it seemed an opportunity has arisen, it all ended with her getting akumatized once more out of anger for the sadness her hime was feeling thanks to that liar's machinations.

Ladybug saved her once more and even listened to her venting about the circumstances that led to her akumatization.

She wasn't sure if she actually told the superheroine about her crush on the blue eyed girl and she hoped she didn't as it was something to be known on her own terms…

The decision was made: she would invite Marinette to eat ice cream with her and start to bond with her as the first step to winning her heart.

'what if she doesn't return your feelings?' an ugly voice in her head asked prompting the fencer to reply with certain force:

"Then I'll accept it and be the pillar she needs in the present. Also, don't think you can deter me from trying you unexpected insecure unconscious!"

Along that "voice", came those weird dreams revolving around her desire to ask Marinette out for ice cream. Scenarios like but not limited to: being in her Oni-Chan form and carrying Marinette on her shoulder to eat ice cream, her dueling Adrien and stabbing him (non fatally of course) and carrying Marinette on her shoulder off to eat ice cream and last but not least bizarre, Kagami arriving to the school entrance in a motorcycle (which she wanted to have in the future), dressed in a tokofukku and asking Marinette on a date while Korpiklaani (one of her secret guilty pleasures) played on the background.

"Why in the world would I, of all people, go to school dressed as some lowly bousouzoku!?"

This last thought crossed as she tried to meditate to calm her mind and prepare for today's school day before she was called for breakfast, which just happened as soon as she finished that train of thought.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Breakfast went okay without a problem as Kagami ate quietly while putting all her thoughts into accomplishing today's mission.

"Mother I'm finished so I'll be going to school. Will I see you for lunch?"

"Of course. I'll tell you if some eventuality occurs; now be safe and have a productive day"

Tomoe sensed something was a bit off with her daughter and while she expected for daughter to be able to sort whatever issue she was dealing with if possible but if not, she also expected, more like hoped, that Kagami would come to her.

Xxxxxxx

Morning went without problems of any kind in Kagami's class and went lunch time finally came, two things happened before she could even reach Marinette:

1) Marinette wasn't at the cafeteria when she got there

2) She received a message saying the driver, Takeo, was already here to take her to have lunch with her mother and she knew better than making her wait

Lunch was mainly peaceful and amicable though inside the fencer's mind all she could think of is to fulfill her little quest even if things were starting to look a tad difficult.

"Kagami is something the matter? You seem rather hiperfocused today"

"It's nothing I can't handle mother. I'm returning to school now. I'll see you at home at night"

As Kagami was about to cross the door, Tomoe said the words that would make her usually cool demeanor falter.

"Good luck with that "Hime" person by the way"

"D'oh!" Kagami reflexively said while recoiling her body a bit. She thought it was all kept in her mind but she didn't realize she was muttering it all and her mother picked it up.

"Do not "D'oh!" Young lady, it's unbecoming of a Tsurugi now go before your Hime gets away" finished the Tsurugi matriarch with a hint of a teasing smirk.

Kagami opted for a quick exit before she would feel even more embarrassment.

"I told you she could swing both ways mistress" said the butler that was picking things up from the table.

"And I don't mind provided is someone worthy of my daughter and our lineage"

Xxxxxxxxxx

School was done for the day and she didn't have fencing practice. Nothing was going to stop her this time.

Not even a conniving person standing outside the door of Marinette's classroom.

"Kagami! Is good to see you! Are you looking for someone? Adrien had to go to a photoshoot with his father if that's who you are looking for"

"Rossi... I'm not looking for Adrien on this occasion and about who I'm looking for... I'd rather keep it to myself" said the fencer promptly while entering the classroom in search of her person of interest, who sadly, wasn't in the classroom anymore and unfortunately; a pest that didn't want to go apparently.

"You know, since I've started to bond more with Adrien and Mr. Agreste, I thought we could do the same. For example, I could help you avoid the wrong people to associate with like Ma-"

"I'm stopping you right here. Gossip and badmouthing will not get you anywhere with me. Regardless of my friendship with Agreste, unless you actually stop perpetuating a stereotype, I'd rather keep my distance" the fencer interrupted Lila and left her behind and angry that her scheme hadn't worked.

Of course she was going to slander Marinette and she would be damned of she fell for such petty tactic, not when she had important things to do.

She didn't have to look further because Marinette was a few steps before her and it seems that she was looking for her as well.

"Hi Kagami. Aurore told you were looking for me...is something the matter?"

"There's nothing wrong Marinette" Kagami didn't like how tired and defensive the younger girl sounded and looked. She definitely had to do something about it.

"I've been wondering if you would like to eat ice cream with me this afternoon? I wanted to know how were you feeling after the last time we talked...if you're actually busy then there's no problem, we can do it on another occasion"

"Actually, I'm free this afternoon so I accept your invitation Kagami. Do you know Andre?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Since Kagami hadn't visited Andre's ice cream stand before, Marinette guided them both said place. They didn't said a word to each other, neither knowing how to start a conversation at the moment but both had to admit the silence was comfortable enough in their mutual company.

One look at them and Andre managed to make a special ice cream for the two of them. It had blueberry, blackberry and cranberry with a bit of chocolate sauce and a cherry on top; a ladybug themed ice cream? Kagami inferred and Marinette had the same opinion until a few scoops later she had this little revelation:

"Is this ice cream Kagami themed!?"

She had heard many stories about how Andre had a good eye for potential couples as her parents loved to claim in their engagement story and it's true that Kagami cared about her more than she thought possible but still, love was a bit of a sore issue given the one person she was fully in love with, had let her down many times in the past weeks. She honestly didn't know what to think or feel.

"So after the last incident, how have you been? Have you gotten enough sleep? Are you eating well?" Marinette inquired, making Kagami swoon internally but she was more interested in how the blue eyed girl was doing.

"I have been fine thanks for asking. But I'm more interested in how have you been. I heard you're having a hard time as of late"

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the blunette started retelling how her problems with Lila started from the Tinnitus to a moment during a class intermission where Lila bragged about how one of her family members owned a successful chain of bakeries and while she had heard so many good about my family's business, she couldn't help but to think that they were lacking in quality.

"Lacking! And then she goes and talks big about the supposed pastries she can make while low key insulting my family's business and ability and when I understandably get mad, let it know and I get labeled as the bad guy because I supposedly attacked poor Lila when she was just trying to give me "constructive criticism"!

I'm starting to think that so many akumatizations are starting to affect their IQ… *takes a deep breath* then, I get another sermon from Adrien about the high road and all of that crap…. I shouldn't have said that about him but his advice is not helping me at all... it's like everyone but me gets their feelings protected and well, is making me reconsider a lot of things in my life"

Pausing for a moment, Marinette realized that Kagami was holding her closer while rubbing her back tenderly. She hadn't feel the warmth of another person aside from her owns parents in a long time that she almost forgot what it felt like and she was enjoying every moment of it, even putting her head on the fencer's shoulder.

"Thank you. I've been on my own during this for a long time that it's always good to have someone in my corner if you get what I mean"

"I completely understand. Marinette, I know we didn't start on the best terms thanks to my assumptions but I now know that I was wrong; I admire not only the way you put all you've got into your passions but your integrity even if you can be impulsive and a bit insecure so I would like to be there for you if you'll let me”

Kagami put as much as sincerity in her words to convey her feelings and good intentions to her love interested and actually succeeded because Marinette's face lightened so to speak.

"Thank you Kagami. This means a lot to me...would you like to exchange phone numbers and e-mails? I would love to keep contact with you, maybe hang out together in the future...but it's okay if you-"

"I would be honored, Marinette. Of course you can have my number and e-mail" the fencer replied while internally celebrating she had made considerable progress in a day with Marinette.

After finishing the ice cream, Kagami followed Marinette to the bakery to wait for the chauffeur to pick the fencer up. They spent the time in idle chatting and when the time came for Kagami to go back home, the blunette have her a packet of cookies as thanks for the nice time they just had.

She treasured the gesture and present so much that she kept the little box, taking good care of it and using it to store pencils, pens, erasers and such.

Perhaps next time they could have lunch together.

--------

And that's it! Hope you liked it or at least entertained you. I made a lot of references to some post about Kagami carrying Marinette to eat ice cream from other blogs like @nobodyfamousposts , @gale-of-the-nomads or @lenoreofraven (I think)

@beebeebombam , I used your fanart to create a scene so to speak; just to let you know

#kagaminette #marigami #kaganette #marinette dupain cheng #kagami tsurugi #Oni-Chan AU #with a bit of salt #duh #XD

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sophrosinn · 4 years

Text

the (un)lucky ones

story description:

“the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this”

Affronted at the audacity of the comment, she furiously replies, “then write your own story, asshole!”

word count: 2,048

a/n: happiest solar anniversary to one of my best girls @vanaera! thank you for being the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for. this short story, which is loosely based irl, serves as my gift to you. i hope you’ll like it!

shout-out to @senfleurs for being the best gal and helping me out with this. she even stepped up and edited this omg, and i cannot stress how much I’m thankful, lol especially she made sure that I get to finish this on time

—

In retrospect, she knows better than to let some dumb comment, especially from someone on the Internet, rile her up this much. Even her followers tell her as much: it’s unwarranted, insensitive even. One of her followers, hippopopo tries to take it a step further, justifying by saying, verbatim: It’s her story anyway!!! So only she knows how the story should end best, okay! 😤😠💢

(in actuality, she has qualms about that, mostly because she had read some books which she thought didn’t end well. but that would take time to unpack and this story isn’t about that, no. she’s flattered at the support, nonetheless.)

And yet, there she is at 8 in the morning, her fingers furiously gliding across her keyboard as she writes a spite-filled story in response. Oftentimes, her muse for writing comes from movies she watched with her family, or from songs she heard on Korean dramas, or those meet-cute scenarios she gushed about with her best friends. This time, however, spite’s her main gal.

She finishes at 10. Later at 4 in the afternoon, she posts it. About an hour later, she doesn’t even try to contain the smirk lighting up her face when a familiar notification pops up.

—

The story starts with an inconspicuous like from a user named agust-d five months ago. Back then, she thought nothing of it. A day later, agust-d comments on a story from her drabble series. Since then, every day without fail, agust-d leaves a small token of their appreciation for her works; brief, concise comments such as, “nice job on the flower descriptions,” or “i liked it.”

Belatedly, she wonders if agust-d is a person of few words, because why else would they leave comments with only six words or less, even on her works with over 30k words? Don’t get her wrong, of course she’s eternally grateful for all the support she receives from her affectionate dears. But sometimes, especially on days her self-confidence plummets and she’s in need of reassurance, she ponders if all her efforts are for naught. (of course not, never, she gently reminds herself.)

And each day, she resists the growing urge to reply: don’t you have anything more to say!!! (but alas, she isn’t a rude person—unless provoked—she can’t so she settles with letting her mind wander.)

Three months of this and she finally caves in. With her interest piqued, she browses through agust-d’s posts. After two hours, she learns that agust-d goes by suga online. Coincidentally, Suga is a male student at the same university she’s currently attending. For a moment, she briefly considers a possibility—what are the chances that they’ve met, have fallen into step alongside each other, have passed by him in the large hallways, or have shared her table with him at the library during exam season? The possibility of knowing someone without actually knowing them?

(that’s the funny thing about the online world, she supposes. you may know all that matters about someone: their likes, dislikes, kinks, fears, and horrid taste in music, absolutely everything except that one thing that matters the most: their names.)

Suga, she eventually learns, is not a man of few words. In truth, he’s got a few words too many to say about a diverse range of controversial topics. In his words, his passion burns bright and clear, but for her, he doesn’t shine any brighter than when he talks about music. It shows in his blog, which consists of a myriad of album reviews across different genres (fascinating, she notes, their music interests align as well).

Occasionally, he posts his renditions of some popular rap music, and as sporadic as this happens, she admits that his covers are her favorite part of his blog. And naturally, she refuses to acknowledge that it has everything to do with her fascination with deep, raspy voices, which, (un)fortunately for her, Suga undoubtedly has.

After some serious debating with herself, she decides to not follow him back. But she makes sure to check his profile every other day for no real reason, really, her soul wallowing in denial. In her defense, when did anyone need a reason to stalk someone?

And so, it begins, her fascination with this stranger on the other side of the screen. Never in her whole life did she imagine herself harboring a (teeny-tiny, infinitesimal) crush towards someone on the Internet. Certainly, she knows there’s always a one-in-a-thousand chance that it happens in real life, it’s just that out of all the 7 billion people in the world, she wasn’t expecting herself to be the (un)lucky one.

—

The fateful day begins like any other. She wakes up to a brand new day, at 7 am, and like clockwork, she begins to stretch atop her pink yoga mat. Halfway through her workout, her phone pings with a new notification. Immediately, her phone screen lights up: agust-d has left a comment on your work!

Her traitorous heart skips a beat in the utmost display of betrayal. It’s Suga!

Ever since she scrolled through his blog two months ago, she has been exchanging messages with Suga. Her covert mission to surreptitiously listen to his song covers ends miserably when she accidentally double-clicks on a post he made two years ago. A string of expletives followed as she stared agonizingly at the post. She attempts to remove her blunder, but soon accepts defeat as it doesn’t even take a full minute until she receives a message notification from Suga. The internal debate resumes as her finger clumsily hovers on the computer mouse and she hesitantly clicks. From thereon, the rest, as they say, is history.

She ends up following his account the day after.

Although, if she were being truthful, all they’ve been sending back and forth are pleasantries. Suga seems hellbent on keeping the conversations polite and distant. She doesn’t understand, it’s not like she’s flirting with him! All she just wants is a compelling conversation with someone (because the Lord knows how much she needs an intellectual to talk to; and suga seems like an intellectual, if his posts are anything to go by).

She unlocks her phone and throws herself onto her bed. Normally, her lips quirk up automatically in response to seeing his name pop on her notifications, but it is not the case for this time. Instead, a frown mars her forehead as she reads his comment.

agust-d: the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this

For a moment, she can’t believe her eyes. She blinks a few more times in the hope that her eyes were just playing tricks on her. Nada, it remains the same.

If there’s one thing to know about her, it’s that she meticulously plans out every detail in her stories. She even spends weeks to outline a draft, and even then, it must be decent enough before she puts it in writing. Publishing her works online, for all the world to see, still intimidates her even after all this time. Not knowing how people will respond to her works frightens her, but what is life without a little fear?

In addition, she’s receptive to constructive criticisms, but criticisms that come from those she looks up to? It’s a bitter pill to swallow sometimes. Suga—he’s become one of those people, and seeing his comment really hurt. She turns her phone off and does her chores for the time being. The moment she logs back in, she is taken aback by the multitude of comments expressing the same sentiment.

bubbleboy: “Yeah, I agree, I think it would be best if the story ended in this manner.”

She can’t help but feel the bubble of anger gradually rising. Another even started with,

orange-gloss: “No offense, but the ending being suggested by others is kinda good.”

The audacity and the entitlement in this comment! Asking her to not be offended when it is within her right to take offense is absolutely laughable. Furthermore, who are you to even tell me how I should react?

When she reaches the 20th comment, she explodes. The next two hours find her furiously typing out a decent response disguised as a story, albeit with passive-aggressiveness, addressed to all of the comments, but primarily to the one left by Suga. She talks to the rude commenters with the sweet addition of a phrasing 101 lesson. In her contained rage, she ends with the note: remember, it doesn’t hurt to be nice, and if you have qualms about how I ended my own story, do me and yourself a favor and write your own story!

She makes up her mind to take some time off her blog for a while. But after a familiar notification pops up at 5 PM, she resists the urge to run away and instead, opts to open the messages he sent.

agust-d: i’ll admit, the way I said it was rude

agust-d: but I stand with what I said

agust-d: you should consider the possibility as well

seen

(In hindsight, she realizes that, for once, Suga’s comment surpasses 25 words.)

—

After the whole debacle with the barrage of rude comments and her consequent outburst, everything has never been the same. Understandably, some of her fans have left since then, but the majority stayed with her and for that, she’s eternally grateful. Although she still publishes her stories and interacts with her followers, a certain emptiness fills her at times.

A part of her thinks it has a lot to do with Suga, who she doesn’t talk to anymore. She… doesn’t know how to respond to him after her outburst. In a span of a moment, she manages to both defend her honor and drag agust-d through the mud, which was never her intention to begin with. Okay, well, maybe just a little bit. But she’s hurt, so it only makes sense to retaliate.

If only she could easily strike back in her current situation.

Unbeknownst to her, someone with the handle void-mayo tags her on a malicious post the night before, calling her out for being fake. Apparently, she’s a ‘copycat writer wanna-be with no real ideas of her own.’

She only discovers it when her followers start sending her messages of reassurance and appreciation. Of course, she checks the post at once, reading carefully and taking in everything that was written. (Shit, at least I have a better username, she muses). And not for the first time, she feels hurt, uneasy, and anxious at the same time. Void-mayo is already an established writer, with years of exposure under her belt and a large army of rabid fans at her disposal. Meanwhile, she’s just started her writing blog. And although she’s diligent, thorough, and ensures that each of her stories has its own personality and flavor, most of void-mayo’s fans wouldn’t care. She can’t risk losing her credibility over a baseless accusation such as this!

And with that, she feels anger bubbling from the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t get the purpose behind the destructive post. She gets humiliated, her reputation tarnished, and worse just because she had written a similar scene with an ice cream . It certainly doesn’t help that others are quick to join in calling her names and ‘cancelling her’ without even bothering to check the facts.

And as she contemplates on how to proceed with such a delicate situation, her dashboard refreshes. At the top, she notices that agust-d reblogs void-mayo’s post with the addition of his response and for once, the word count exceeds 100.

—

In a roundabout way of saying sorry and expressing her gratitude, she proceeds to write the ending Suga requested. And illuminated by the dim light of her laptop screen, she can begrudgingly admit that he does have a point; his version of the ending does make sense.

—

fin.

—

omake

agust-d: so am i forgiven yet?

you: i don’t know

you: maybe you’ll have to make it up to me

you: and get me some coffee first?

you: 😉

—

a/n pt. 2: happiest birthday to you again! i’m so grateful to have met you in this lifetime. truly, like you’re the best. even if your internet connection’s always shitty, you always find ways to join our chats and discord parties. just thank you, for all the countless laughs that i’ve had with (and because of) you, for the counsel with my writing, and for the stories and advice you’ve willingly shared with us. here’s to our three years of friendship and counting! i love you so much! enjoy this day and stay safe!

p.s. keep rocking and keep writing! we’ll always be here with you! muah! ❤️❤️❤️

p.p.s. hihi 🦆🍄

#birthday fic #for #vanaera #this is the first fic i've finished writing #my own fic #omg #also #all the uns in this fic are for comedic relief #esp void-mayo #from stardew valley #bts #min yoongi #fic

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 3 years

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 10: Ruin

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 10. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 9 'Planned'. Darkness was all Hiccup knew during those first three months. Darkness and daily defeat. Ruin was his way back into the light.

Warning: Rape/non-con

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 356

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Poisoned”, “Food deprivation”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: After posting Day 'Planned', I decided to hold off on posting Days 10 and 11 until I finished Day 12, which still had such a long way to go. It still does, but I have since split Day 12 into two parts and part 1 is finished. So it felt right to post Day 10.

I think that this thing is the darkest fic I've written to date, the final chapter in Hiccup's story left unexplored. There is still plenty left, but those won't be from his perspective. ;D

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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"Are we not as lively today as we usually are, Hiccup?" One afternoon in late August, this is the question Viggo asks. His gaze is indifferent, if slightly pleased, as it lingers on the young man sitting opposite to him at a table.

Hiccup looks a little lost as he sits there with him, a barely played chessboard between the two. He's hunched, appearing small, and tired. He's lost weight, but he's not as thin as he was a week ago, when he first left the downstairs area of the Grimborn home, the basement.

When a question is asked of him, he looks back at Viggo and realizes it's been a few minutes since he's made his move on the board. And yet, the older man isn't wondering why Hiccup is taking so long, knowing well enough what the cause for his downtrodden mood is.

He's feeling a little down, a little fatigued. It's not too crazy after what he's been through, after what he's survived and gotten out of. if anything, Viggo is pleased to see him this way. He's never liked Hiccup's 'loudness' from before, though others would argue that Hiccup isn't loud at all. Not in the way Viggo thinks.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'm..." Hiccup apologizes, but he's unsure what he wants to say. He hasn't just been spacing out during their game, he's been doing so throughout the day and during previous days, too.

Does it have something to do with the things done to him? He's certainly still recovering from it and not just mentally, his body is trying to catch up, too. Though his ribs and knee have healed and Viggo is putting enough food in him, he's still worryingly thing and that doesn't help his mental health. It all contributes to the tiredness that he feels.

"It's okay, my Dear, I know that you're having a hard time." Viggo understands, but he's only pretending to be nice, pretending to be concerned.

Hiccup looks down at himself, picking at the loose skin on his fingers. He's hurting, he feels like crying, he feels such shame and he can't see a single part of himself without remembering.

Without a doubt, Viggo can see the emotion growing in his eyes, can see a non-physical weight physically weighing him down. His response to that? Taking his glass of wine to sip from it. In his eyes, this is progress.

But as painful as those venomous memories are, they make Hiccup think of an important question.

"Can I- can I ask you a question?" Hiccup asks cautiously. There is something he needs to know, though he is afraid of the answer. He is very afraid.

"Make your move first, Hiccup, I don't appreciate to be kept waiting. After that, you can ask." Viggo responds, gesturing to the board, and so Hiccup turns his attention quietly back down to their game.

It's only because of Viggo that he knows how to play chess. He might've been a little curious at some point, he knows Fishlegs certainly has been, but it wasn't until Viggo came into his life that he learned how to play.

Maybe he could be good with a little bit more practice, Viggo is quite an experienced players, but his fatigue doesn't allow him to think of any good moves. When Hiccup makes his next one, it's the first one he can find. It might not be the best move, but he's not in the right mindset to even try to go for a win either. He's afraid of what'll happen if he does win.

Besides, he doesn't have the energy for it, he just wants to ask his question and have his answer.

Viggo hum disapprovingly and Hiccup holds his breath for one tense moment.

"Go on, ask your question." But fair is fair, so Viggo awaits his question.

"Do I... Um.. Do I have to ever, you know?" Hiccup can feel his heartbeat growing louder, can feel it pounding against his sternum. He acts subdued, but on the inside, he's full of turmoil and fright.

"Do I ever have to go back? Down-downstairs?" But Viggo is a patient man when Hiccup doesn't make him angry and he manages to ask. Hiccup fears the answer he may receive.

Viggo crosses his arms and hums as if in thought. It is nothing but an act as he already has his answer. He likes to keep Hiccup on his toes, likes to make him worry and stress. It's good, it's how Hiccup knows to behave.

"Well, no, not as long as you're a good boy. I won't have a reason to send you back if you listen and are good, do I?" That answer is barely comforting and Viggo's almost endearing smile doesn't help.

So long as Hiccup doesn't step out of line, he has nothing to worry about. So long as he listens, is a good boy, does everything that's asked and expected of him, he'll be okay. But then, what exactly is 'stepping out of line' to Viggo? Is it when he falls back into his old behavior? When he tries to escape? Or is it something as small as speaking out of turn?

Hiccup could ask, but maybe asking is considered stepping out of line and he doesn't want to risk that.

Thinking back to that place hurts so much and it makes him sick to his stomach. It's awful, so very awful. And the only reason he's sitting in the dining room with the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the window now is because he's given in to him.

He hopes he never has to go through something like that ever again.

"Oh my Dear," Viggo offers a hand and his support as he notices the tears growing in Hiccup's eyes. "My wonderful Dear."

He knows that he's hurting, that was the entire point of keeping Hiccup down there for the first three months of his time here. How can Viggo trust him to be a good boy upstairs if he hasn't learned to obey first? And learning to obey always hurts, learning to be his perfect partner hurts. His tears are a sign that it's working. This is a good thing!

Hesitantly, Hiccup accepts it and places his hand in Viggo's, the man squeezing his in return. Unless it's erotic in nature, Hiccup doesn't get affectionate gestures like this, so it's nice to just have his hand held for once.

Viggo's hand is warm, too. As much as he fears and hates the man, it's just nice to be held.

He knows Astrid liked to walk hand in hand with him, knows his friends liked hugs, he misses those simple things.

Hiccup's lower lip trembles, a lump in his throat, and the tears are impossible to hold back. The affection and thinking of his friends and girlfriends don't help. A thumb rubs the back of his hand comfortingly.

"It'll be okay, Hiccup. Just be a good boy and you don't have to go back. All you need to do is to remember that and listen." Viggo tells him, as if that is a reassuring thing to hear.

As long as he listens, he doesn't have to fear the basement. As long as he's a good boy, he doesn't have to worry.

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Ryker running Hiccup over with his car injured him gravely, but broken ribs, a dislocated knee, and a hurt hip only kept Hiccup from fighting back for so much. If Viggo has ever hoped that they would, he was wrong.

Once Hiccup got his bearings, once he comprehended the position that he's in, he has only one goal in mind and that is to escape.

The cuffs that were there when he first woke up were only used to keep him from flying into a panic and injuring himself further. The near panic attack Hiccup had was already enough to endanger him.

The next time and the next and every time he wakes up afterward, they aren't there. If he were healthy, maybe they would be used to tie him down, but he isn't and Viggo must believe his ribs enough to hold him down.

He was wrong, of course.

Hiccup is free to leave the bed. And though he can't breathe properly without the painkillers provided by his abductors, Hiccup has enough experience walking around with his bad leg that the dislocation of a joint meant little to him. He can jump and land wrong and it will pop out, this is nothing new to him.

So carefully and slowly, making use of the hours he's alone, he inspects every nook and cranny of the room they keep him in. When Viggo is at work, Ryker doesn't care enough to visit, so that leaves him with plenty of opportunities to explore.

The bathroom, while objectively nice, only has the bare essentials. A toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, a hairbrush, that sort of thing. None of them are the brands he uses, rather they are the ones his abductor personally prefers.

In his little living space, there is only the bed and that's that. The mattress is decent, the frame sturdy, and the covers and pillowcase soft. Though an asshole, Viggo has a standard he does not lower unless it comes to his murder cabin, which Hiccup won't know about for months.

Besides the bed, there is no nightstand, no shelves, and nothing to entertain him with. Either Viggo hasn't thought of it, didn't care, or purposely didn't want Hiccup to keep himself busy.

There is only the chessboard, the one thing he would sometimes bring down to the basement with him. It takes only a week for Hiccup to hate it with a passion.

But though they don't keep him confined to the bed, his injuries do keep him from doing much to escape. Exploring is one thing, but attempting to fashion some sort of weapon or lockpick or something to undo the hinges of the door is beyond him. What little he already does leaves him breathless.

Besides, it is in his best interest to reserve his strength.

Because when the hours pass and Viggo eventually comes home, he needs it.

In the beginning, they started out as touches. Hiccup could tell that this was purely because of his injuries. If he could breathe right, if his hip and knee could be used at all, his first days in the basement would've already been the closest thing to hell he's known in his short life thus far.

They were small things. Viggo would help him sit up, would give him his painkillers, seemingly normal stuff, but the hand would linger. It would be on his upper arm, his back, his side, eventually on his thigh. And even there, there's a journey closer and closer to his center.

They are discomforting and Hiccup moves out of his reach every time, letting out a discomforting chuckle each time. He just doesn't know how to deal with such intrusive attention.

And then, one day, Viggo dares a kiss and Hiccup punches him for it. His lips aren't wanted on his and Hiccup makes sure he felt it.

He has only been kissed without his consent once before and that was by Dagur. He'd been in complete shock back then, utterly frozen and defenseless. He'd promised himself since that kiss that he would never let anyone kiss him like that again. But Viggo has and so Hiccup acts accordingly.

But then he regrets it shortly afterward, of course. The sudden upwelling of violence makes his wounded ribs scream. He holds it, collapsing to his knees while Viggo stands over him and holds his lower jaw, flexing it angrily.

"I suppose it was foolish of me to think you wouldn't fight back, though you've certainly surprised me with the violence you appear to be capable of." There is venom in his tone and eyes, his anger barely restrained. His pride has been hurt.

Hiccup groaning and struggling to draw in any oxygen on the floor does nothing to him.

"But don't worry, it's been duly noted and will be dealt with appropriately." With those final words, Viggo takes his leave. Turning and walking away, locking the door behind him as he goes.

But as time passes, there is no retaliation, no punishment. Though Viggo has been angered, there seems to be no reaction of any kind. Hiccup thinks it strange, but he's never been kidnapped by an obsessed man before.

Dagur certainly tried once with his convincing a 15-year-old boy to run away with him, but he's nothing like Viggo. So Hiccup still doesn't know what to expect. If he had, that meant he would've seen the red flags, and that meant he might not even be in this situation.

And then, Hiccup is plunged straight into hell.

Because the next day, his breakfast is brought, as per usual. Though always cautious, Hiccup takes it and eats it because he wants to heal, wants to regain his strength, and that's when the trouble begins. He doesn't know what could've been used, but that innocent bowl of plain cereal was poisoned.

He remembers Viggo bringing it to him personally, his fond smile turning into a malicious smirk when Hiccup reaches the end of his meal. He takes the bowl back and then leaves, wishing him a "pleasant time" in the basement.

And now here he is, clutched to the toilet like his life depends on it.

Ever tried vomiting with two broken ribs? This is Hiccup's first time and he can attest to how excruciating it is.

Every lurch isn't just accompanied with the usual burning throat and foul taste, but also with the agony of his injured side forcible contracting together to get the contents of his stomach out of him.

His stomach, plagued by horrible cramps, wants to be relieved and at the same time, his lungs would love some air. They battle to have their needs met and that just makes the entire experience about a hundred times worse than it already is. A hundred times more traumatizing, too.

Sitting on his bad knee and hip helps little. With the urge to throw up, there is the urge to do anything but kneel in front of the toilet on the hard, tiled floor. About every part of this is pure, unadulterated torture.

To make things even worse, there is the constant fear of a broken rib moving and collapsing his lung. Ryker certainly wouldn't care enough to take him to a hospital in time and Viggo might rather want to clean his hands free of him than risk being caught as a kidnapper. They wouldn't come to his aid, they will let him suffocate to death instead.

Every time the urge to retch comes, he tries to suppress it. For the sake of his ribs, to have control over his own body again, sobbing, coughing his airways free. Every time he tries, it gets so much worse, but that makes him want to try harder, and so the cycle continues.

Time passes, the cycle is endless, the pain is torment and all Hiccup can do is beg.

"Please, don't make me throw up any more." He whimpers, everything hurting, throat burning, voice hoarse.

All day this cycle goes on and on. Every half an hour the urge strikes, until it continues long after there is nothing left in his system to give up, until all he does is dry heave in desperation, until the wee hours of the night.

Sweating, trembling, beyond exhausted, and grossly sobbing and hiccuping, Hiccup still clutches to the toilet bowl hours after his tainted breakfast.

He wants it to end, he wants to sleep, but his stomach is still upset and he doesn't want to leave the safety of the bathroom.

It's been at least an hour since the last time he threw up and that means he's carefully allowing himself to hope that this is it, that this is the end of his suffering for the day. If he could, he would fall asleep right here on the cold floor.

His right side is on fire and his abdominal muscles are sore after the workout they've gotten. He can barely swallow, throated burned from all the stomach acids.

Conveniently, after not showing his face the entire day, Viggo decides now is the time to make his entrance. Hiccup could've used a little support during the day instead of being forced to go through those long hours of torture completely alone. He has pleaded for his mom and dad at some point.

Watching him shiver with a look of sadistic satisfaction, their gazes meeting, Viggo can see the pain and the tiredness in them. Hiccup's arm is on the seat, his head resting on the limb while he sits there limply.

"Learned your lesson?" Viggo asks with an air of arrogance to him. It's as if he expects him to fall to his feet and beg for forgiveness right then and there.

"Water? Please?" He asks softly, tone barely above a whisper.

"Hm-hm, have you learned your lesson?" Viggo repeats. If Hiccup wants to have that glass of water, he needs to earn it first.

"Please, Viggo. Please," Viggo, believing this to be an admittance of defeat, takes his suit jacket to lay over Hiccup's shoulder, he must be cold after all of that.

"Let us get you washed up and hydrated." He tells him, playing nice now that Hiccup's down and beaten. The dirty towel, used to wipe his mouth during the day, can be taken care of later.

But what Viggo doesn't realize is that Hiccup isn't a fast learner when it comes to things like this.

He doesn't throw up again, but it takes him a week to get better, which is nearly a week of lying in bed and recovering from whatever's been fed to him. Just sleeping and drinking and eating the few light meals his stomach can handle at that time.

But once he's there, when Viggo deems him healthy enough to try and force his tongue down his throat again, Hiccup still doesn't stand for it and shows his dismay by fighting back in any way he can.

So he's sick for a second week after his disobedience. Once he's recovered from that, a third week follows. Viggo quickly realizes he has to switch to a new tactic.

Because eventually those injuries heal and that means he can be a little meaner to Hiccup.

There is something Viggo wants from him and he's adamant about getting it.

Besides, with those ribs better now all that food, when not poisoned, is only good for one thing and that is all that extra energy that Viggo deems unessential.

So he cuts Hiccup off. When Hiccup rejects Viggo's hugely inappropriate advances once again, he's denied food for the rest of the day. The first time, he only misses dinner, so that means he's quite hungry by the time breakfast arrives.

But Hiccup automatically denies that meal, too, having learned from the three times he's been made terribly ill through poisoned food to be wary of breakfast.

Lunch comes and Hiccup accepts that meal, but it comes at the price of more of the older man's forceful affection, which he'd strongly rejected once again. At dinner he stays away, breakfast Hiccup misses on purpose, lunch is spoiled by Viggo trying to kiss him and pin him to the bed. It becomes a cycle, with lunch becoming the sole source of his food.

The three weeks of illness has severely weakened him, but by the day he grows even weaker, only given enough to not get him in trouble. That makes it so much harder for him to fight back and Viggo doesn't care if he loses a couple of pounds in the process. And with no injuries getting in the way, Viggo can afford to be a little rough.

If anything, it's fun to see how long Hiccup can keep this up. Everybody has a breaking point and his doesn't seem so easily reached.

"No, please, don't! Stop! Viggo, you're such a piece of shit, stop!" He would shout, he would push, he would kick, but his attempts weaken as his body does.

So naturally, the night comes when Hiccup can no longer fight back and he's run out of energy to do much of anything. By the time he's just shy of being nothing by skin and bones, he's tried everything he can think of to keep Viggo from stealing from him. The younger Grimborn even sports a deeply blue bitemark at some point, to which Ryker's only amused response is; "So he's kinky."

But while his attempts work to deter him for another night, it's not enough in the long run and the lack of strength has put a full stop to his escape plan, too.

Reserves empty, all out of tricks, too run-down to even sass, black and bruised all over, Hiccup eventually can't stop Viggo from taking what he's been after since the first day they met.

He forced himself onto him, raped him, and it's a first time he could've done without.

"Now was that really so hard?" Viggo asks him afterward in a mocking tone as he dresses, leaving Hiccup to curl up and hug himself. There is no comfort afterward and it's on purpose. Viggo doesn't even stay, making Hiccup wallow in the shame all alone.

That night he cries for his parents, pleading with them to come get him. He hasn't cried for them since a dragon attacked him and he had to be flown to the nearest hospital. But being pinned down and raped will certainly do the trick.

During his stay, Hiccup will have a hard time admitting it even to himself that it happened. The mere thought, while the memories are always there, is always cut short.

The next morning is his first breakfast in much too long and Hiccup cannot reject it, despite his fear. It's like a reward for losing.

No matter how awful accepting it makes him feel, he can't refuse. Viggo sits down on the bed next to him as he eats, much too close, his hand on his thigh, and it makes Hiccup sicker to his stomach than being poisoned made him feel. But he couldn't reject the food, couldn't ask Viggo to leave, because his body despairs for that food.

And then afterward, there is a new cycle, a new game. It's one of choice, if you will. Either Hiccup gives in or he starves. Wanting to live and make it out above else, he chooses the former.

That is how his three months in the darkness of the basement went.

In a way, anything after that is child's play compared to what he suffered downstairs. Perhaps, the time spend in the Grimborn home afterward, is time he spends gathering up the pieces of his shattered spirit to put back together again one by one until the holiday trip that leads to his freedom.

It's a shoddy job in the end, but he survives.

Viggo comes to get him on the anniversary of the third month of his abduction with more presentable clothes for him to wear. Something other than the hoodie, shirt, and jeans he'd been taken in, which were dirty and smelly by now.

There's a broken and dull look to Hiccup when Viggo tells him to wash up and dress in them. He quite likes the sight of it. He's fond, even.

The clothes don't fit, appearing to be too large on him. But is that really surprising when the sizes are based on a time before all that weight loss?

When dressed, Hiccup stands before Viggo, staring down at the first decent clothes he's had in much too long, the first clean clothes. They're not his, they're not even the kind of clothes he would wear during formal events. They're so ill-fitting they look almost ridiculous on him, too. That is, he would look ridiculous if the sight of him didn't spark the more natural reaction of; "Oh my God, get this man a doctor."

Viggo is fruitlessly straightening out his clothes that don't fit, but he doesn't seem to mind. Once they're about as neat as he can get them, he cups a hollowed-out cheek and brings Hiccup's face up to have their eyes meet. The entire time, Hiccup has his gaze downcast.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you, my Dear. You've learned your place." Viggo tells him, staring into eyes that are rather empty with a satisfied glint in his own.

When he draws his hand back, Hiccup's gaze is soon downcast again.

Stepping away from him, Viggo motions towards the door, the same one that's been locked for three full months, even whenever Grimborn was down here.

"This is a special day." Hiccup is told.

"You've earned this." He's told.

And now, Viggo wants him to take the stairs up.

The door is opened to him and Hiccup lifts his eyes up. He can see the stairs, can see more of it as it opens wider. There is the soft throbbing of longing in his heart, of excitement.

Is this really it? Is he finally going up there and leaving the basement?

The stairs revealed, Viggo puts a hand on his lower back to gently push him towards it. The steps are wooden, they're filthy, but they're the best stairs he's ever seen.

But even better is that the door on the other side at the top isn't just unlocked, it's open and Hiccup can see light coming in. Natural light! His eyes aren't used to that much anymore and it is blinding, but he refuses to look away and squints.

But it's open, he really is leaving.

The tears he wants to cry then are of joy. There's a spark inside of him that Viggo will come to regret.

He's survived and, in the end, he fights back.

He's not broken.

#rtte #race to the edge #httyd movies #modern au #hiccup haddock #hiccup whump #viggo grimborn #vigcup #one-sided vigcup #httyd fics #one-sided relationship #tw: non-con relationship #tw: non-con #tw: starvation #tw: food deprivation #tw: non-con touching #tw: non-con kissing #my fanfics #ruin

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