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#extra HTTYD content

sanfangirl-cynicalromantic · 2 years

Text

What Dreamworks Should Have Done With HTTYD

I think that instead of making spin offs, Dreamworks should fully animate deleted scenes and sell a collection of them. Like the scene “An Axe to Grind” in HTTYD, I mean, who doesn’t love a whole pre-HTTYD Hiccstrid, am I right? And what about that cute cuddle bit at Itchy Armpit we missed? And those six months between the end of RttE Season four and the second episode of Season five? They could do a collection of one shots almost, just cute canon fluff. What if we got to see Toothless’ eggs hatch? Maybe a sweet short about Toothless and Hiccup ruling their world’s without the other, their struggles, and how they overcome them? A sweet Uncle Gobber taking care of Hiccstrid’s babies? Some Rufflegs content? How about Heather and Dagur? Were they notified when Berk moved? It would be harder to keep in touch with no Terrible terrors, but surely they would visit often? Maybe some scenes we missed at Hiccstrid’s wedding? And everyone loves Babycup/Stoick bonding time. Maybe even some young Astrid or the rest of the gang? Fans would most certainly buy that content I am sure, and it would have been a better option than insulting the entire fandom with The Nine Realms (the show itself certainly isn’t the worse in history, but after it’s predecessors, it’s a total letdown). Hello, Dreamworks, if you ever go on Tumblr to read fan opinions, maybe you could consider it?

Were there any bits I could have missed? What between the scenes content would you loved to have seen?

#HTTYD deleted scenes #HTTYD #extra HTTYD content #what Dreamworks should have done #pre-HTTYD Hiccstrid #The Nine Realms #what happened to Dagur and Heather #chief Hiccup #HTTYD spin-offs #I want to hear you answers

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 7 months

Note

Hiccup x reader where Hiccup is stressed over being the chief of Berk and is extra clingy to reader?

Better Left Unsaid

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader

Words: 14,022

You wondered if you would ever be able to touch the sky again. You don’t talk about it.

Tags: Httyd 2, Comfort, reconnection, resolution, suggestive content, Gender Neutral reader, reclusive reader (ish), reserved reader (ish), disappointment, rebound, oneshot, ambiguous ending

“It-It’s just too much,” Hiccup stuttered angrily, hushed. He shifted his arms, gesturing lightly but frustratedly with the mug in his shand, leaning against the wall. The water inside sloshed back and forth as he settled the mug down on the table with a thin clacking noise, pushing off against the wall.

It was silent, the empty dark of night all-consuming in a way that blocked everything else out. Even with passion in your voice, you probably still couldn’t speak louder than a gritty whisper.

The Haddock house was empty and dark, the fireplace in the center of the hut untouched as it has been for many nights since the passing of Stoick the Vast. Your basket sat abandoned by the door, washed over by a sheet of blue shadow.

“Maybe you need a system,” You suggested awkwardly, caught off guard as hiccup paced, too taken by his own trouble to care for much else. This wasn’t how you’d imagined any conversation between the two of you to go.

You saw each other around, of course, but events like those usually consisted of turned cheeks. It had been so long since you last talked, and it hadn’t quite ended on good terms.

“My Dad didn’t-” Limbre fingers struggled against the straps and buckles of his armor, inelegant and terse with frustration, Hiccup’s cinched brows and an angry grimace conveying everything you needed to know.

Usually nothing short of a stupid idea from his own head would get him out of it. Or a hard hit. You did your best to give him counsel anyways, despite your unsurety. He’d probably just been swept away by it all, falling back into old habits quickly.

He would snap out of it soon enough, though if he decided just as you did that you’d rather not address anything at all, you would certainly not complain.

“Your Dad didn’t have to deal with so many trappers or dragons.” You shook your head. You had to admit that you were somewhat disconnected from the matter. The two of you hadn’t been close for years, and you kept to yourself pretty closely. This whole situation was an accident, more of a wrong place, wrong time then anything done on purpose, per se.

You moved around the table, nearly stumbling as you went, suppressing a shiver as you shifted through the cold room, like an empty void. You wondered how Hiccup dealt with it.

You snorted.

Helping him out felt like crossing some sort of invisible boundary you usually avoided like the plague. But, you had pity on him and the dark circles underlining his eyes. You didn’t think he’d notice. It wasn’t something you worried much about, anyways, not since you were in your teens. That was a sore spot you’d rather not touch on.

“Isn’t a Chief supposed to be able to handle everything on his own? If I do that, then wouldn’t…” Hiccup trailed off into a contemplative, moody silence, glaring off to the side as you did your best to pull his straps free. You weren’t much better with them than he was now, but it was workable, “I’m supposed to be- Wouldn’t that prove that I’m not-…”

He looked somewhat like his father, with that expression, though the skinny frame and his wild, scruffy hair offset it somewhat.

His father was large and tough, but something you noticed about Stoick, even from a distance, was that he was stressed. And angry, all the time. He knew what to do and when to do it but couldn’t handle a lot. Not always. You could imagine the veins bulging from his forehead now, even from beyond the grave.

You weren’t sure Hiccup was ever supposed to be like him. If he was supposed to even try. Him being Chief wasn’t ever something you imagined even as kids, just as he probably never imagined it for himself, but you were sure if he pulled something together it might be manageable.

“You’ve always been enough for whatever you wanted,” You muttered, “You’ve been enough since before the dragons and you are enough now as Chief. Coming up with some sort of system isn’t... bad. You Dad had a system,” You winced, watching his expression carefully as you brought up his Dad, though you were sure that not much would reach him when he was in this state, “Your father had a second-in-command for a reason, you know.”

“My inventions, they’re not-” Hiccup groaned. You heard the unsaid question. But wouldn’t that be cheating?

“They’re just as a part of you as anything else.” You repeated the age-old adage, “It doesn’t have to be in invention, though, if you don’t want it to be. Just… Establish a chain of command, or something.”

Hiccup threw his head back, scrubbing his face with his hands. Then he looked back at you, as if he was just then realizing who he was talking to.

“The island probably won’t implode without you. They’re Vikings, they need a little lead, just trust me.”

Sometimes you were fine, and sometimes your disappointment followed you like a sheet over your eyes, something buzzing constantly around the periphery of your vision, bits stuck to the back of your boots like poorly spun wool.

You crunched through the grass on the far end of the bridge leading up to the village, nerves coiling in your guts briefly before you brushed them away.

Such was the life of a recluse.

You squinted as you marched across large wooden planks, confident in the sturdiness of the bring just as you were unconfident in what lay before you, a figure sitting with their head down on one of the large logs that made up the railing.

It was a common sight for people to sit by the edge, usually teens, usually with friends, a stolen jug of mead or two in hand on dark nights. It was also a good spot for contemplation. You’d use it many times, especially on rainy, foggy days. It made quite the atmosphere.

However, during the broad daylight, people usually tended to just come and go. They didn’t spend much longer there than they had to. To be honest, most people had dragons. There were many more interesting places up in the sky. You didn’t get that. You dragon, it left a long time ago.

You shifted your basket of foraged berries and sticks and bits under your arm and grimaced confusedly as you neared the figure, closely examining dark gray armor and a worn, untucked green undershirt.

“Hello, Chief,” You said plaintively, after you’d spent a few seconds stopped being him, looking down on hunched shoulders and frazzled flyaways.

He groaned, “Please don’t call me that.”

You snorted, gently resting your basket on the ground, making sure all the latches were secured tight over the lid. It got pretty windy up there, wouldn’t do you any good to lose all of your day’s hard work, “What brings you over to my small neck of the woods?”

You shrugged at his silence, relaxing the the hand on your hip before swinging your legs over the same log and planting yourself firmly to his left

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup mumbled exhaustively, without looking up.

You stuck out your tongue, leaning back onto your hands, which pressed against the warm surface of the wood pleasantly. It took you a moment to remember that you should probably come up with a follow-up question, “Why?”

You were a bit rusty.

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup turned briefly to give you a sour look. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay,” You shrugged your shoulders, ever the loyal confidant.

So you were going the whole ‘ignore the Gronkle in the room,’ route. You could deal with that.

You wondered where Toothless was. He’d taken to his Alpha statues pretty well, as in, he did nothing to enforce it at all, so there was nothing for him to worry about. Come to think about it, it really was just Hiccup, managing both Vikings and Dragons.

Hiccup shot a look at you again, perhaps asking himself what was wrong with you. Below you, the sea rushed and lulled, storming over the jagged rocks below. You watched it like a snake on a mouse, hypnotic in its movements.

“It’s not. There’s so much to keep track of and,” Hiccup started, continuing on, shaking his head, “Everyone’s always got something- this isn’t like- it’s not like my Dad’s just on a vacation. He’s dead. I’ve never taken care of something this long-term. And Astrid-... I’m not so great at the whole ‘commanding’ thing.”

The split with Astrid was rough on him, you knew. He didn’t talk about it much at all, but everyone could tell it was weighing down on him. People talked, and you didn’t necessarily have to be a part of the conversation to overhear.

You hummed sympathetically, as a group of people started to gather on one end of the bridge. You weren’t sure if Hiccup had noticed it yet, though you were sure if he had he was ignoring it for the time being.

“You don’t have to command. You just have to be able to direct,” Most people sort of expected Astrid to be there for the whole commanding thing, but honestly you resented the idea, despite the accuracy of it in practice, “I know a guy who would be willing to handle the stables for a day. Johannes, you remember him, right?”

They, meaning Hiccup and Astrid, were both busy with their own responsibilities, so you didn’t think they had a lot of time to talk it out. It was strange. For the longest time, second to Toothless, of course, she’d been his best friend. The thought sent a sharp, bitter jab up your spine.

You rolled your eyes anyways. A lot of Vikings would give a lot to be able to be in charge of something. As you grew older, you started to realize that Stoick the Vast had a hand in everything. Maybe too much of a hand- that man was stretched thin, “The whole commanding, intimidating bit is Toothless’s job now.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup choked out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed a pack of Vikings already halfway to you, encroaching from the Berk side of the bridge, arms waving in the air. You looked away for a moment with furrowed brows, beginning to scoot back with high caution, trying your hardest to not make any sudden moves.

“When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” You asked, “Gone to the forge, or flown out?”

“I have no idea,” Hiccup wheezed.

“When’s your next lull? It’s a lot easier for me to say it than for you to do it, but you should probably, you know, take a step back,” You suggested.

“Never,” Hiccup gestured with his hand, other arm pressed against his back, “This is it, for the rest of my life.”

You grimaced, shrugging pityingly as you heard the distant shout of his name, and watched Hiccup crumple in on himself again as the two of you met eyes.

You were a bit surprised by how easy conversation flowed between you, though you were sure whether you wanted to run or just shy away from it. You weren’t sure if you felt anything for it at all.

You shook your head, deciding very astutely on the running bit, swinging back onto solid ground and gently lifting up your shoulders. You hooked your fingers under the edge of your basket and pulled it into your arms, settling it smoothly in hand.

“Well, when your life’s over, I’ll be here. We’ll, ah, figure it out then, I guess.”

You lifted your tunic from your back, tugging until you were able to twist it over your head.

As you did, you eyed the portraits of the wives taken off and replaced, hung lower on the wall and decorated with each of their assets. You’d found them lying around and it felt wrong not to return them to their original owners somehow. They were usually separated from the rest of your dwelling by a thin, old moth-eaten curtain.

You were sure the wives were all just as ugly and unpleasant as Mildew himself, but there was something off about taking them down especially when you kept everything else close to the same.

You patched the hole in the roof with old ship’s sails and mismatched tiles, just enough to keep your cabin barely above freezing in the wintertime.

You shook your clothes onto the floor as you changed, mindful not to look down at any of the scars in the darkness of your hut.

You were probably supposed to feel proud. They were trophies of battle. Most other Vikings would wear them proudly, displayed like an honor bestowed onto them. They didn’t particularly bother you, though it never bode well to linger on reminders of things long since finished.

If only they knew how you’d gotten them.

You didn’t earn them through bravery or anything else of the sort and you weren’t anywhere near one of the worst when it came to scarring. First place probably went to Phegma, who had a huge burn scar just barely covered by her day wear.

You got yours because you weren’t fast enough to dodge the blow of an axe, to jump out the way of a trap sprung on the group without taking some serious damage.

You were a great planner, an architect and an infrastructural thinker. But that didn’t often come in handy on the Edge, especially not when all the buts of your knowledge that could be applied were better covered by the other Riders’ areas of expertise.

So where everyone else excelled, you stumbled. Where everyone else tumbled with the blows, you fell hard onto the ground, and you hadn’t anyone to confide your hurts in.

Eventually trying to keep up got to be too much. When you saw the rest of them, able to come together so easily and shake off all their cuts and injuries, you hurt.

There was nothing quite as terrible as watching everyone, especially Hiccup, walk forwards while you strayed behind, struggling your hardest and failing to even to keep to their heels.

You blinked at the scratching of something sharp against wooden walls, muffled though still clearly audible, coming from the outside. You paid it no mind, ignoring it just as you ignored the tiny shafts of sunlight seeping through the cracks between wooden planks and crumbling walls, illuminating tiny particles of floating dust.

It was just the branches pestering the framework of your salvaged home, one of the half-dead bushes lining the front, nearing the height of a tree, mimicking the sound of a dragon you’d long since pushed from your mind. Yours.

You sighed. It was just another thing weighing on your mind back then, when you’d been at your lowest. You were tired of it, now. But a blank kind of tired.

Like a flat, fresh water ocean. Waveless, shallow. Eerie.

It was a much calmer tired than the kind you felt then; Violent waves slamming you into the sand, rubbing fragile lungs raw with grit and silt. Of the bruised ribs, the fighting, the cuts and hurt no one seemed to notice and the friend you didn’t seem good enough to have anymore.

You reached down to pull your tunic off the ground, tossing it onto a nearby table, covered in dust, made frail through disuse. You coughed at the fine grime tossed into the air, flapping your hand in front of your nose in an effort to disperse it.

You wondered if the sealights would be lit tonight.

“-He has five dragons. Five. And he wants me to come up with a whole set of dragon towers for him how?-”

You trod through the dewey morning leaves, back straighter than necessary, trying not to sweat too much or to look back at the armorless, green-tunic-ed guest at your back.

You couldn’t say you weren’t a little tired of the whole running Berk it yourself. Sure, you weren’t necessarily responsible for it but it was a pastime of a lot of the Vikings around town to talk about it, the mindless gossips, and once or twice while you were in town trading for what you needed.

There were also the sailors, who had a mind, when down by the docks, to share the business of everyone regardless of the tribe. Even as the village recluse, you got roped into it, listening around corners with rap ears

“-Even with dragons it’s not easy to-” Hiccup waved his hands around, journaling under one arm and eyes glued, glaring onto the ground. It turns out he had taken you at your word. Sort of. He was still very much alive. He must have found some time off, or figured out something, because here he was.

You squinted at the paper in your hand, staring at messily done blueprints. There was a house sketched lifted above the ground by a pole and another sketch of a bunch of regular huts stacked on top of each other. You held the same basket from before under your arm, woven bits frayed and flexible and worn.

You recognized the beginning stages of a bunch of these sorts of huts being built all around Berk. It was getting fuller, especially with all of the ex-trappers and Vikings migrating in from the other tribes. And then there were relations outside of the interpersonal to manage. So of course there needed to be a few changes.

“This isn’t safe,” You said drily, “Remember the windmill? These are all going to fall down with the next devastating winter. And where are we going to find logs large and long enough to keep all these houses up? There aren’t nearly enough trees on all of Berk to get this done for everyone.”

“I know!” Hiccup pausing, turning to shake his head quickly, before bending over to scrub the hair on his head, “It’s insane! Everyone wants me to go with it!”

“You shouldn’t,” You deadpanned.

“I might,” Hiccup pursed his lips, “If it gets them to leave me alone. I can’t be builder, Rider and Chief.”

“Well- no, you can’t be. But why don’t you just come up with a few sturdy designs and make him choose one. Same for everyone else. Then just,” You paused, grimacing as you had to grab a branch, pushing it out of the way, “Put someone in charge of building all of them. And making sure they don’t go build in all the wrong spots.”

“I don’t know,” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, letting his arms fall back to his sides, turning his head up and allowing the light filtering through the thick wooded area to fall onto his face, “Everyone wants something unique. You think they’ll settle?”

You turned around, branch still in hand, “They’ll have to. Same way they have been for three hundred years.”

You rolled your eyes and set forth again, letting go of the branch, which swung back quickly. You didn’t quite see what happened any more than you heard Hiccup’s yelp and the subsequent step back.

“Ow, ow, ow ow, Gods, curse it-”

You turned back around startled, turning back into the branch which followed its inertia, snapping back into your face.

You brought your hand back up to your eye so quickly you smacked, dropping your trusty basket right out from under your arm and falling roughly onto your butt. The berries on the inside poured out of your basket onto the forest floor and you cursed, bemoaning it and yourself and laying the rest of the way down onto your back.

Head against the roots of a tree, smelling the earth and staring up at the dappled sunlight through waving tree leaves, you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up through your throat.

It was better than getting mad, or crying. Still, you stifled it, shaking your head clear, pushing yourself back up, ignoring the stickiness of the berries stuck to your back and the juice dripping down the side of your hand.

Hiccup looked down on you skeptically, lips quirked in a way you read as confused. You remembered a time when he might have fallen down with you. It seems though that as the two of you got older, he became much surer of yourself.

Still, it was a world of difference from the Hiccup you knew a moment ago, stressed and weighted and tired with all the burdens of everyone else on Berk and the loss of his father on his back.

You wanted to see more of this Hiccup, who was snippy and sarcastic and who you might have loved once upon a time. Who wasn’t stuck in mournful contemplation about identities and relationships and other such sad things.

And maybe you wanted to take back some of him for yourself, as if it might bring back to you the part of yourself you lost, at least for just this little while. Though if this was where it ended, for you, this moment would be more than enough.

He needed reprieve. You decided you would be that reprieve, for as long as he would take you.

“Why don’t we do something besides talk about Berk?” You smiled wryly to yourself, rubbing your hands off on your smock, shrugging your shoulders loose once you got back onto your feet.

You did your best to put on a happier facade, different from the insecure, hunched-shouldered version of you from way back in the past, and different from the apathetic lone figure you were now.

“I…” Hiccup blinked at you for a moment. He looked a tad thrown off by you now with your shoulders high, hands on your waist and back straight, much different from any sort of behavior you’d exhibited since long before.

The wide smirk on your face faltered, and you toned it down a little, slumping a bit. You knew you hadn’t had the ability to make Hiccup smile in a long time, but this was just terrible. Sometimes you wondered if you ever had, or if he was just faking it. It didn’t matter much to you now.

“Or, you can come with me and wait outside while I go find a change of clothes,” You said blankly, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Your pick.”

Hiccup grimaced, probably thinking of the greeting he’d get once he got back. You weren’t quite sure how he made it out here in the first place, and in his casual wear no less. You hadn’t seen him in anything less than a full set of leather armor for a very long time.

Of course, he’d chosen the latter. Sort of.

You let the water from the stream run over the toes of your boots, waterproofed by tar and oil as you pulled up your smock, scrubbed until it was worn and back to the same colorless dull hue you had gotten it in. It was to your benefit that you had worn something under, though the berries were much too pigmented for you to leave your smock on its lonesome.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” You sighed, picking yourself up and away from the beck, slinging your water heavy clothing over a low-hanging branch.

You turned to look at Hiccup who had decided to wait by the treeline, back to one of the large pines lining the whole island. He had found himself a terror along the way and was minding it with amusement, waving a thin branch above its head and watching and it leapt and curled after.

“It’s alright,” He said almost bashfully, without looking up, as the Terror flipped onto its belly, wriggling after the branch Hiccup waved over its stomach like a fish to a worm, “I, ah, I got Johannes to handle the stables.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck as you pulled down your sleeves, picking at the loose threads and checking for any unpleasant damp spots, of which, for once, thankfully, there were few.

“You took my advice, then,” You noted absentmindedly that this was the tunic you’d worn on the Edge, its color washed out and much thinner, but still very recognizable.

“Yeah,” Hiccup weighed the stick in his hand almost contemplatively before tossing it to the side, watching as the terror scurried after.

“So,” You said, sweeping your foot almost carelessly across the carpeted forest floor, pulling your basket into your arms again, “How have you been?”

“How have I been?” Hiccup asked astoundedly even as he eyed your smock, reluctantly pulling his gaze from it in order to follow as you led your way back up to the forest path, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Yes, well, no- I mean, from before that,” You scoffed, looking down darkly into your nearly empty basket.

You meant after you left.

You felt the familiar pulling of tides, tugging at something deep and light in your gut.

The air was still between you. It was hard not to feel when there was nothing between you but air and your own memory of some hastily forgotten hurts.

“That was a stupid question,” You shrugged, kicking aside a stick, protruding from just off the path.

You were sure Hiccup had been too stressed earlier to care or notice but it was easily felt now. Your quarters were much too close for you to put on the same old facade and pretend that nothing had ever happened and that the two of you weren’t ever more than strangers, your bond closely resembling something you might have once called friendship.

“I… Well, if you don’t mind tagging along still, I won’t make you do much,” You pushed down thoughts of beating storms, rain so thick you couldn’t see five feet in front of you, “You caught me off guard.”

You blinked away memories of rushing, towering waves and a bone-deep chill only made worse by the pressing winds and the water soaked deep through your clothes and to your bones, causing you to shiver and shake and pull closer to the neck of your dragon.

Pressing deeper into leathery skin and scales, closer than you ever thought possible, praying to the Gods that you might be spared the indignity of living to see another day past your shame, past your desertion.

“Alright,” Hiccup decided finally, eyeing you oddly.

You pretended you didn’t feel the phantom shivers clawing up and down your spine or the echoes of a deep burning hurt you were certain had gone long since unnoticed by all the wrong people.

You made sure your breathing was steady as you marched forward, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You listened to the occasional wingbeat of a dragon from up above and the unburdened twittering of small animals in the foliage surrounding you.

You heard Hiccup stifle a yawn from back behind you. You wondered what you could do to make this trip worth it for him. To be honest, you weren’t quite expecting him to take you up on your offer. It was more of a snipe, really.

You’d never been good at those, though. People always took you much too seriously.

There was a clearing up further ahead to your left, one you neared as the trees grew thicker and larger, where you could hopefully make up for some of your lost boon. The berries, you were sure they were gone, but perhaps you could make up for it by finding some other things.

The loudest noise between the two of you was the sound of your footsteps.

You inhaled the misty air of the forest and, eventually, you began to relax.

“Here we are,” You hummed, as the path grew lighter, sunlight filtering between the trees and the foliage.

You examined the crown with care, looking over each leaf and link, turning it around gently in your hands. What began as a task born from boredom became something you invested yourself into with brief interest.

The atmosphere was bright and the sun warm against your shoulder blades, laying like a heavy furred blanket across them as you leaned down, splitting small holes in the ends with your fingernails and threading grasses through until you had some approximation of a flower crown, minus the flowers.

It was the kind of warmth that made you sentimental, bringing up a feeling that felt like something flowering, which you pursued vaguely as if this might have been the last time you ever felt it.

By the time you two had been teenagers, Hiccup had been long since uninterested in that kind of thing. In teenage boy fashion, he avoided things such as flower crowns and playing in the sand down by the beach, much too focused on killing a Dragon and trying to seem tough enough to meet standard.

Then he got Toothless, and from there on after he hadn’t time for anything but Dragons and the Riders. He was too absorbed in his inventions to pay any mind to other things.

You’d deeply wanted to do it, though maybe not always specifically to him, but you’d never found the purpose. You had it now.

You turned to Hiccup with a lopsided smile, watching his chest rise and fall gently for a few moments. Your lips twitched, falling into a small crown as you held out the crown, deciding whether or not you should drop it.

Hiccup blinked drowsily awake at the sudden movement, to which you startled and before you realized it, the crown had gently slipped from your fingers and fell over the crown of his head. Because of the angle, though, it looked to be resting more on his forehead than anything.

You held your breath as his eyes unfocused and fluttered shut again, unregistering, and you backed up on all fours with quiet ease, pushing yourself to your feet, attempting to flee the scene and pretend nothing had quiet happened at all.

You shuffled to the other side of the clearing, craving distance, walking a path around it like you were attempting to trace the edges with your feet. You balanced on it, placing your heel to the other foot’s toe and then again with the opposite foot, arms out in front of you, taking note of all the shrubbery around you.

Eventually the shifting ferns drew back your attention and you glanced back towards Hiccup, who’d sat up groggily, slowly examining the crown that had probably, most likely just fallen from his head.

He looked a complete and utter mess. You hid an ugly grin.

“I hope you like it,” You smiled down at the stem connecting a nice wad of berries to the bush. It was too quiet for him to hear and you were much too far away, but it was more of a musing to yourself anyways.

You leaned back onto your heels, sore for all the walking you’d done. You wondered if they were the right kind, enough to replace the bushel you’d lost earlier. You weren’t completely sure they were edible, anyways.

The two of you had broken out into a clearing, one covered in grass and ferns, and this was where you had decided to set midday camp.

You lounged there in the waning sun, Hiccup more so than you, not so much watching the world turn to oranges and reds as witnessing it in your periphery. You’d lived it too many times for it to be any sort of novel.

You were sure it was different on dragonback, but alas. You didn’t have that option.

After you came back to Berk, taking to the ground like you’d developed a phobia of everything else, it spent a lot of time flying around on its own, going who-knows-where on most days. One day, when you’d had the mind to look for it, you’d found that it had flown off for what was most likely good.

You traced the leaf veins below your thumb, lost in mindless remembrance, ambiguously aware as Hiccup got up.

He groaned like he was a decades older man than he was, audible across the clearing, while putting his hands to the small of his back and leaning backwards mad before he made his way over.

“What’s this?” Hiccup asked, holding what you were sure was the crown in his hand. You weren’t looking and ignored it, not necessarily expecting him to call you out on it any more than you’d expected to make the crown itself.

“Not sure,” You said, before looking over, and glancing up and down at ruffled clothes, messy hair and the sleeve that came up to wipe off the corner of his mouth, “Have a nice nap?”

“I’m just fine, thanks… “

You rolled your eyes, “That wasn’t my question.”

“Does it matter?” He asked, straightening out his shoulders.

“You were out for a while,” You said in lieu of an answer, “Was worried you needed me to drag you back to the village. Tuck you into bed.”

“No,” Hiccup said exorbitantly, “Never.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” You shot back.

“Maybe.”

“Definitely…” Hiccup started, “An exaggeration.”

“Not at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Everyone’s had their share of it,” You stated, lifting your shoulders exaggeratedly, bringing both hands up by your head with your shrug, while kicking out your foot, turning to trot off in the opposite direction.

“You do a lot of really-need-to-be-dragged-back-after activities.”

“Hey, well, I’ve done a lot of that for you, too.”

“Pick one, name something.”

“I mean, I’ve kept you from falling down off cliffs a lot,” Hiccup ran a hand through his hair.

“I have since not stopped falling off cliffs,” You squinted at him, “And neither have you, I’m pretty sure. Also, that jumping off dragons thing? Serious disqualifier. That counts as at least half a cliff jump every time. Negative helping-me-out points. Honest.”

“What?” Hiccup shook his head, gesturing towards himself, “Doesn’t count. Never met a dragon that didn’t have my back. Natural Dragon Master. No danger.”

A natural if by natural he meant through fifteen years of absolute failure in any sort of interaction with an animal more sentient than a frog.

“Sure…” You remembered all the time he spent as kids, half with you and sometimes without, running across rooftops for his dad. Because you were being chased. By dragons.

“Okay, call me a dragon, right now.” You said, with finality.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You spent a little while staring at him.

“What, now?”

You nodded.

You were slightly surprised when he played along, even though you knew you had been egging him on to do it. You watched him cup his hands and chitter oddly into them, in a mimicry of what you understood as a Terror call.

You looked down on him with fake skepticism. Usually, with the call, it was a hit or miss whether a dragon would respond. The dragons with Riders tended to ignore you completely unless you were their rider.

Both of you knew this, though you counted it on being a miss.

“They’re coming, you’ll see,” Hiccup said, waving his left hand as if he was clearing smoke out of the air.

“I hope it blows up in your face. Like that catapult, from when we were kids,” You blew a raspberry at him.

“What, which one?” Hiccup asked.

“The one you tried to roll up to your house, kept rolling down the hill, went straight through Burthair’s cart and smashed through his fence,” You grinned, “Your dad made you round up all his sheep after, remember?”

You remembered trying to help him quietly in secret, gathering a few sheep on a lead before you were caught and sent home to be scolded.

“No, hey, You blew that one up,” Hiccup said incredulously, “That one was all you.”

“Yeah, it was.” You admitted guiltlessly.

“You are the worst,” He said, as the sound of flapping and the rustling of trees grew slightly louder. You ignored it, thinking it was just another random group of dragons lost over Berk. There had been a lot of those as of late.

“The worst,” You agreed. You had a foot already up, halfway into a turn before a bright yellow, spiny body slammed quickly into your face.

You yelped, falling to the side, tumbling slightly as what must have been a Terrible terror scrambled for purchase and left off your face and into the tree line. You blinked, half-shaded under low-hanging branches.

You braced yourself against your arm, bringing your other hand down from your face to see red in the shape of a smeared line across your face. By the look and size of it, it wasn’t too bad.

You opened and closed your jaw with annoyance, realizing quickly that the Terror must have scratched your face.

Henceforth, though, you were much more easily capable of dodging around the sudden appearance of more Terrors, catching a tiny green one just before it face planted into the dirt.

“Woah, woah, woah,” You caught Hiccup, too, doing his best to dodge around them, jumping back as a feisty blue clawed its way up his back as he made his way towards you.

It was a difficult effort to make as by the time you had found solid ground, the dragons began to jump on top of him, covering his arms and legs so that he looked like a pile of very large and colorful bees standing on two legs.

You could help but laugh, wobbling over to help. You slipped your hand under the leg of a terror just before Hiccup fell over with a shout, falling forwards and nearly dragging you with him as he tumbled into the shade of the treeline.

And as if following a command, terrors scuttled away, as if chasing after your peals of laughter, echoing around the clearing.

There wasn’t nearly enough time between Hiccup’s call and the appearance of the dragons for any, or at least most of them to have come in from Berk, nor any guarantee that any of the Terrors heard him, but these gathered quick enough for you to be seriously impressed.

“Yeah… I wasn’t expecting that either.” You stared down at Hiccup as he stared back, the two of you looking at each other with startled eyes, you bent half over and Hiccup propper up on his elbows on the ground before the two of you broke out into breathy laughter.

The flowers and plants around you were heady, filling the breathless airheadedness in between your eyes with even more cotton.

Your voices mixed and quieted in equal fashion, the two of you ignoring the mutterings of the forest until, eventually, they grew into something you could hear.

“Hiccup!”

You froze, a wince stuck on your face.

“Hiccup!” This shout was much more drawn than the last.

It was Astrid.

You saw the shadows of her and Stormfly drift smoothly over the face of the clearing. You wondered if she had followed some of the Terrors out or if she had gotten Stormfly to track Hiccup’s scent.

You were about to look back at Hiccup for some sort of direction before he tugged you after him. Tugged until the two of you were huddled under the alcove you had missed, made by two thick roots of a ginormous tree, waiting.

You weren’t sure how far above she was, she hoped she didn’t see your basket, sitting plainly across the way.

You could tell Hiccup was holding his breath, staring out deep into the forest, where trees went from towering to the sole consumers of light, protecting a misty undergrowth beneath a dark, leafy roof. There was a log to the left of the entrance to the narrow space, half-rotted and sprouting mushrooms out of its side.

You recalled that there had been a notable instance around when the two of you had been just about twelve, sneaking around in the Great Hall for the leftovers post meal. You’d been trapped in a closet, when they’d had those, removed after you and Hiccup had accidentally burned them down at fourteen, with nothing but a loaf of bread between you.

The air wasn’t nearly as musty or stale, and of course it was much darker then, with not the whiff of a fresh plant in sight, but the principal was still the same.

You held very little stake in it all, but you kept close and stiff anyways, the joyful atmosphere from before mixing into something fun and scurrilous, electrifying the space behind your eyes and sending ticklish bolts of lightning down your spine.

It remained there until the heavy wing beats of the Dragons above you faded long into the distance.

The field, littered with scented flowers and bushes, must have muddled Stormfly’s scent. Or she really was just following the Terrors. One thing was sure, though. Where there was one Rider, there were more.

“I thought you said you got people to cover it?” You asked.

“I did. They should have been able to, but something must have happened,” Hiccup leaned back against the tree bark, hitting the back of his head against it lightly, grunting lightly as it did.

You wondered if he had grown a few inchest still since you had last been close to him on the Edge.

You raised your eyebrow, asking the silent question. Are you going to go back?

Hiccup said nothing, looking away, though you couldn’t miss the soft clench of his jaw and the gentle slouch, or the agitated twiddling of his fingers by his waist.

You rolled your eyes. Privately, you almost felt bad that you weren’t able to give him a better time out. But also, there would be many other times for him to make up for it with other people. You wondered if he would ever choose to come back to you.

“They should be able to handle it. They’re not children. But it’s no burden on me whether you stay or go,” You inclined your head forwards.

You placed one foot in front of the other across the uneven wooden planks. You just needed to get down to the fields.

You strode past the bright red hut that marked the Jorgenon Clan, avoiding haphazardly placed construction materials.

You paused where you stood and turned back as Hiccup called your name, standing right in the middle of the walkway. It never ceased to surprise you whenever he showed up.

It wasn’t much. But it still surprised you every time he came with greetings.

You smiled.

He quickened his pace, pulling himself up onto the path and stopping in front of you, prosthetic clicking against wood.

“Hiccup,” You greeted, “What brings you to me?”

“Where do you live, now?” He asked, “I was planning on stopping by, but…”

“Up behind the spire on the way to Gothi’s,” You hummed.

“But that’s… You live in Mildew’s old hut?” Hiccup asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” You nodded, rifling through the satchel clipped to your waist, flicking through rows of herbs with delicately placed fingertips, “So what have you been up to?”

You realized you needed to go off-island soon. The idea filled you with dread.

“Do you really want to ask that?” Hiccup questioned, “because there’s been a lot…”

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Some rouge dragons have been eating holes into the earth- and with all the dragons underwater, coupled with the Scauldrons-” Hiccup rubbed his forehead, “Basically, they’ve been drilling new hot springs, which has been nice, but no one’s gotten to any of them yet. They always seem to dry up before anyone can get there and back and I keep getting complaints about people’s water getting stolen, or something.”

“Ouch,” You said sympathetically, as Hiccup continued on.

“I wish they’d give it up, honestly. There are more important things for me to get to, but I haven’t even been able to get to all the trading issues with all the other tribes… Anyways, are you busy?” Hiccup asked quickly, looking back and forth.

“Busy?” You asked.

“I kinda want to get out of here before anyone else…” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, cringing.

“Notices?” You finished, “Let’s go.”

“A hot spring?” You asked aloud, both your and Hiccup grasping the edge of the pool on your knees, watching the water bubble slightly.

Hiccup extended a hand hesitantly, grazing it over the bubbling surface. You watched as the foam fizzled underneath his palms and when he didn't flinch, you sat back and pulled off your boots, rolling up the legs of your trousers, revealing a long scar on the leg furthest Hiccup.

“It’s alright to wash in?” You asked, Hiccup nodding an affirmative.

You rested a bare foot onto the bubbling water, testing it out with your toes, before sinking your legs in with a breathy sigh.

“It’s one of the ones you were talking about, right?” You asked

“Yeah,” Hiccup confirmed, watching you closely.

You let out a soft, disappointed sound at the idea that it might be gone soon.

The spring looked to be about waist-deep, though that might be something you needed to test out before dipping into the pool. It was pressed up and partially embedded in the side of a rocky cliff, spearing into the ground at a sideways angle.

All around, the two of you were packed in by large, lush fauna. Huge ferns, even larger trees and a great deal of mist.

Very, very private.

It was extremely tempting.

“We could… It would be nice, but…” Hiccup reasoned. He didn’t seem into the idea, which was fine. Honestly, you didn’t mind having this spot all to yourself.

There wasn’t much of a practical way to sink into the waters without stripping nearly bare anyways. Hiccup’s armor would most definitely be damaged by the water, and you didn’t like the idea of marching back to Berk in sopping wet furs.

Your undergarments certainly weren’t up to scratch for the kind of soak you were looking for.

“We don’t have a change of clothes.” You said, meeting his eyes head on. The two of you looked at each other for a moment.

Hiccup must have followed the same line of thought, looking at you like he’d caught something odd and he didn’t know what to do with it. There was an odd feeling curling in your stomach, and an awkwardness that hadn’t been so palmable between you since before… Before.

Did it really matter if he saw you naked? Or at least clothed only partially? It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him the same during all your years of semi-sturdy friendship.

You spent a moment feeling the skin on your face begin to warm, brows crinkling with a remembrance that sort of killed the mood before you glanced away with as much casualness as you could muster.

“Do you think we could get back in time?” You asked instead.

“Well, there’s not much hope, but I guess it’s worth a try,” Hiccup started hesitantly.

You and Hiccup stared down at the small bubbling hole at the base of an empty basin. It had been an awkward walk back to the Village. Still, you seemed incapable of suggesting anything else. Hiccup, too.

“Gods damn it,” Hiccup said.

You shrugged, the roll of cloth under your hands shifting only slightly. Besides the tarp strapped to your back and the towels to Hiccup’s, the both of you were carrying a set of undergarments you found which should have covered just enough to remain modest in the springs.

Toothless, behind the two of you, basket in mouth, grumbled as he dropped it to the tall grass floor. You’d brought him along in order to help carry the bulk of your things.

“Well,” You started, puzzling to yourself, hand under your chin, “I mean, we could try what you did last time? With the Terrors?”

“But with a Scauldron, right?”

You nodded, “Honestly, it’s that or head back.”

Hiccup winced, immediately backing away to settle down onto one knee. He was turned to face your right, so that he was looking out towards the forest.

He opened his mouth and cupped his hands, then paused. Then he tried again. But no sound game out. The whole time Toothless looked peeved, eyes shifting between the two of you as he snorted.

You stared blankly, waiting, which was probably the first time you and Toothless ever felt the same sort of emotion, though you most likely meant it in a much more joking fashion than he did.

“I can’t do it with you watching,” Hiccup said, finally.

You squinted at him, wondering what was up with the sudden-onset stage fright, just as Toothless rolled his eyes, shaking his torso like a wet dog, causing a hastily-clipped basket to fall off his saddle.

“Oh,” You said, turning around and grinning to yourself, “Alright. Howl away.”

You hoped he hadn’t figured out how to get to the fish basket yet. It would be a pain to walk back to Berk with everything in hand, and it would be very easy for Toothless to leave without his incentive to follow the hostage on his back.

“It’s not howling.” Hiccup deadpanned.

You knew that. You were actually pretty decent at it, back when you were still involved in the dragon business.

“Alright.”

You stared out at a heavy wall of fauna, a large leaf and a towering set of two trees consuming the vast majority of your vision. You watched a bug crawl up the exterior of one and noted to yourself silently that you would have to watch where you rested your things while you were in the spring, if what Hiccup was trying was to work.

You listened to him shift and shuffle, moving around until Toothless must have gotten tired of waiting and he himself let out a loud, echoing roar.

You jumped back, caught off guard, jerking towards the pair with your ears covered by your hands, undergarments, falling to the grass below.

“How long do you think it will take to fill up?” You asked from the floor, hips sinking into the grass as you pushed yourself up, shrugging the straps holding the large cloth tarp in place off your shoulders.

“Not sure,” Hiccup said, shifting from foot to foot, “We should get changed first.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, tossing it over to him. He weighed it in his hands, examining it before pulling it free and letting it unravel onto the floor.

“Hey, do you have any idea where we packed the blanket?” You asked. It was a bit overkill, but… You bit your lip.

“In the saddle, I think.”

You inhaled touchily as Hiccup gripped onto the edge of the tarp, turning from you to throw the other end out, watching it unfurl as it caught air, “Ah, do you think you could get it?”

Swiftly though not without ungain, Hiccup slung the tarp over one of the low-hanging branches, the ends of the fabric falling horizontally over the thick grasses and bushes around you.

You supposed that meant the tarp was unnecessary, the forest here enough to bless you with cover and privacy. You noted that down.

“What? He’s harmless,” Hiccup said, letting the curtain fall closed behind him.

You squinted into the sky, up through a very small window, shafting light down through the trees. You would have worried that no other dragons would heed Toothless’ call, knowing that you yourself wouldn’t, had you not already heard the hurried beating of wings from up above.

You stuck your tongue out at Hiccup, then turned it towards his dragon.

Honestly, it was still unimaginable to you that Toothless had developed the ability to become Alpha. It was insane, and insanely lucky. For Hiccup, that is.

The two of you, meaning you and Toothless, had never been left alone in the same room together for a reason, though most people just thought it was your fault. The reason being that Toothless didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him as a result of that.

Harmless… Right. You scoffed.

You knew you knew better and you reassured yourself of that fact, as Toothless grumbled at you from across the small space.

Hiccup shook his head at you, quirking the corner of his mouth to the side as it formed a fondly exasperated line, unclipping various satchels and baskets from Toothless’ back.

You grimaced and scooted further away from the dragon, nudging the basket of fish closer to him with your foot, hoping that he might take more of an interest in that instead.

You kept your eyes trained on the dragon even as Hiccup walked to his side with his clothes under his arm shuffling through the treeline and behind the curtain.

“You have enough room?” You squinted at Toothless, resting your arms against your knees, and he narrowed them back.

It had been a tricky job to get his things without anyone else noticing, a lot of careful pressing around corners and tricky, calculated jabs from Toothless, many of which you were still bitter about.

“It’s enough,” Hiccup responded, voice trained.

The scaly thing was still grumpy; the chances of him soldering a grudge were high, especially where you were involved. The two of you called him away from a tussle with some other dragons from around the bend, which he seemed to be enjoying by at least some measure.

If only he’d put some of that energy into being a more attentive Alpha. You wrinkled your nose, judging the dragon like a temperamental parent.

You listened to the shifting of leaves, fabric and leather before deciding you’d been waiting too long, much too used to doing things on your own time.

“I’m just going to change over here,” You called through the curtain, “Turn around, will you?” You asked Toothless, who grumbled at you disgruntledly, the ridges of his brows as furrowed as he could make them.

“Turn around, Toothless,” Hiccup confirmed from behind the curtain.

He shifted with a grumble, lumbering sideways and around, though not without whacking you in the calf with his tail, first.

You finished changing just as the first few dragons began to settle down.

You shuffled to the side once you were ready, letting Hiccup through to order and direct, gentle-parenting the dragons into doing what you needed.

You watched him. He was shirtless, legs bare, though his left ankle remained wrapped to his prosthetic. You wondered if it hurt, sometimes, though you hadn’t the courage to ask.

He was slim as always, muscled but not quite muscly, more soft than not. It went unsaid that he was not nearly as built or wide as any of the other Viking men, so you tried not to ogle.

You sat, legs crossed on the ground as Hiccup directed the Scauldrons and Gronkle in turn, slowly patching and filling up the pool.

“How long do you think it will take to cool down?” You asked as he sent them off and he came over to stand by you, settling himself onto the small stretch of grass you were laid in.

“Not sure,” He answered.

At one point Toothless turned towards the trees, shaking himself off before beginning to march through the underbrush.

“Hey, don’t go too far, bud,” Hiccup called after him.

The two of you sat there, just you, watching steam rise from the pool

“He’s been really independent lately,” Hiccup stiffened slightly, picking at the wooden end of his prosthetic, “Yeah…”

You moved back to give him space as he unraveled the leather wraps keeping his prosthetic secure to his leg, revealing a stump and a good amount of pinched scar tissue.

You spent a moment longer looking at it than you probably should’ve before looking away. You’d never seen it before

You wondered if Astrid had. You couldn’t imagine a world where she hadn’t.

Hiccup sunk into the water first.

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you hovered above it, hands lightly gripping the edge of the pool.

You dipped your toes in before all at once you sunk into the water, drifting down until your feet touched ground, sighing as you felt the heat rise up to your hips.

The ground was made up of small pebbles and smooth stone, and much nicer on the bottoms of your feet than you’d expected.

There was a ledge underneath, just the right height and length going around the inner edge of the pool on most sides to make a nice enough bench. You waded towards it, settling over the concave surface, ignoring the slight unevenness of it.

You relaxed, going boneless underwater, feeling your face redden as the heat from the water floated up into it, causing a line of sweat to run down your cheek.

With nothing else to you, your eyes drifted over towards Hiccup. He was much the same, though he was a little more out of it.

He really needed it, you supposed.

You blinked at him as he tilted his head back, exposing freckled skin, much more faded than when you were younger but visible just the same.

You eyed a multitude of cuts, long and light against his tan, following them down to a long vertical cut by the right side of his chest.

“What’s on your mind?” Hiccup’s voice brought you back to alertness, breaking the spell the spring seemed to put you under.

You tilted your head back and forth, debating whether or not you should answer.

He followed your eyesight instead, answering the silent question in your eyes.

“That… Axe. Training accident,” He answered, shrugging. You marveled at the casualness of it all.

“...And that one?”

“Dragon racing. Caught in the side by one of the spikes over Hofferson house,” You nodded. You hadn’t been in town for that one.

“And, I’m guessing, that’s why you guys use more of a track, now?”

Hiccup rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Where’d you get yours?” He asked

Being able to talk and converse with him like this was great and all, but you were afraid that behind all the mindless platitudes and play-warmth he would finally, finally see you. See deeper than the scars like cracks on your surface, seep right into line lines and stare into your core to somehow find you wanting.

You hunched slightly inwards self consciously.

“Hey, it’s… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,”

Hiccup drifted towards you, resting his hand on the side of your shoulder.

You kept your eyes trained downwards, staring at large groups of bubbles as they rose to the surface, coloring the water an opaque white.

Your exhale blew hotly back into your face, rising up with the steam.

You nodded.

Hiccup hummed under his breath, voice tinted with a hint of confusion.

You pressed your thumbs into his shoulder blades in the dark of your hut, moving with his muscles as he groaned and flexed them backwards.

You felt the outline of lightning scars under his shirt and followed them down lazily, rubbing a path around them, pushing deep into weary muscle through his thick tunic.

Hiccup leaned into it. Again, you moved to accommodate him.

You shifted over your hastily done bed, dull fabric shifting below you.

Afternoon light trickled in through the blinds.

You counted every scar visible above the line of his collar, each cut and scab that formed alabaster marks against peachy-tan skin.

You worked through knots, strains and strains and stresses, watching with a careful eye as Hiccup softened, letting them melt off and away.

You worked your way back up, and down, leaning maybe a bit closer than necessary, feeling your breath on your face as you exhaled into the nape of his neck, lifting your elbow higher in order to get a hard spot a few lengths away from his spine.

Hiccup let out a breathy sigh.

You flushed.

You sifted through the assortment of ripe berries in the cart, humming thoughtfully.

You weren’t quite sure what to buy. Honestly, you didn’t need to buy any at all. You had a large enough stock at home to guarantee you’d not need to buy or forage anything until the next year.

You would never say it out loud but you were actually out to take inventory. A whole lot of the other Vikings would be displeased to hear about it, you were sure. It was a good way for you to keep stock of what was in store and what you would need to search for on your own. It was how you made your coin.

It was quite easy, especially when you took advantage of your close proximity to Gothi. Though a tough and harried healer, she was still an elder and it was much more convenient to have the shops travel up towards her.

Some might have called it ‘taking advantage of the elderly,’ but you were loath to the idea. You didn't upcharge her by too much. Whenever you did up the price, it was much deserved payback for dumping her waste down your side of the mountain. Somehow it always landed on your roof.

You brought your finger to your chin and moved to accommodate a newcomer you sensed by the corner of your eye, careful not to look up at the stall keeper, who was squinting down at you suspiciously. You were afraid he might have been catching on.

You walked over to a wide array of scales, most likely scavenged from the dropped and shed skins of the dragons who enjoyed roaming around town.

You enjoyed the fresh air, the wind as it flowed over your scalp. You felt light and pleased, one hand held to your back as you pursued the displayed wares.

There was a nice arranged pyramid of orangish-reddish scales and a set of electric yellow and purple sat above a wrinkled, dull green cloth, and a line of iridescent scales by your right hand.

“You see something you like?” You startled as you heard a voice murmur by your ear. It seemed to be that you were so engrossed in pretending to be invested that you hadn’t noticed as your fellow shoppe leaned into your space.

You walked to the side, turning so that you were leaning away from her.

It was a woman, brown hair nearing red, the brightest auburn you’d ever seen in the light, dressed in a thin layer of furs with both hands on her hips. You recognized this woman.

“These came from me,” She exclaimed calmly, voice running off her tongue like thick, gooey honey.

The stall keeper rolled his eyes, “You’ll get your cut, don’t worry.”

The question must have been obvious in your eyes because Valka smiled, “Oh, yes, I collected those myself, you see.”

You smiled uncomfortably as Valka laughed to herself, finally backing up a tad.

You straightened your back and your shoulders, exhaling deeply.

Though she was unbalanced from her time away from general society, she was confident and it served her well.

Her swell mood was contagious. You quirked your lips with the urge to join in, though to your chagrin, your own laughter came out more as a breathy uncomfortable chuckle than anything. You were also very much out of practice.

She didn’t seem to notice, though you knew that was most likely a calculated effort. You were glad for it.

“Hello,” You managed an honest smile, “Trying to push sales?”

“I’ve a bit of a vested interest in this shop, I should say,” She said, examining you as if you were a sort of creature from a land she’d never seen before, “Who are you?”

Valka paused, blinking to herself. Before you could respond again, she asked, “What’s your name? What’s your story?”

She didn’t know, you realized with a pang. There was no reason for her to, of course, Hiccup being your only link to each other and the two of you hadn’t been nearly as close as you had been before, as of late, but it still hurt a little. Definitely put a damper on your mood.

You kept up your smile anyways, mimicking her pose.

“I’ve not much of a story to tell, I’m sad to say,” You inclined your head.

“Everyone’s got a story,” Valka insisted, “Even-Oh, it should be-...”

You hummed your question.

“It’s probably wandered off somewhere, the frightful thing… There-! This one’s been pretty helpful,” Valka pointed out behind you, “A bashful thing, helped me bring down some of the wares. He showed up a few months before, well…”

Her eyes unfocused and her stance fell just the smallest bit. You winced with sympathy, remembering how Drago had smothered the island in ice before nearly killing off all of its inhabitants. She was very open about it, especially in the hall, and word spread faster than fire on Berk. It must have been difficult to lose her husband and her Alpha Dragon all in one day.

You shifted, turning following her direction after a moment of solidarity, and froze.

With its head bowed down, looking guiltily away from across the clearing was a dragon. Your dragon.

She leaned forwards against you conspiratorially, though this time you didn’t react, even as she whispered loudly in your ear with false secrecy, “It doesn’t hurt to have a bit of extra change on hand, you see. That’s why I’m here.”

“I do see,” You nodded along, though something about your voice was off as you spoke, still staring at your old dragon. Your voice was much too sharp and flat and cracked in all the wrong places.

You blinked away a light burning in your eye, refusing to meet your dragon by the eyes.

Your heart twinged, ruffled and upset as you were all at once confronted with the reality that you really had been abandoned, though it wasn't as bitter a fruit knowing that it had been, in part, your fault.

“So, you said these scales are on sale?” You cleared your throat, turning back towards the stall with the full intent to ignore the thing as you would a stranger, which it might have very well been.

“Which would you recommend?” Your eyes refused to focus as you blocked it out of your mind, refusing to acknowledge the faces or manners of any of the people around you.

It was because of that that you just nearly missed him, approaching down the path to your left, once again clad in dark gray and brown leather.

“Oh, hello, Hiccup!” You called.

“You’re trembling,” Hiccup noted with surprise in his voice as you approached.

“It’s been a while since I rode a dragon,” You admitted balefully, as the two of you strode towards Toothless’ saddle.

Even before, when you had just gotten yours, you’d had a hard time learning to love being up in the sky. But you pushed through it, because it was what Hiccup loved, and because it was getting to a point where you needed a dragon in order to keep up with everyone else.

You never did talk to anyone about how much it terrified you.

“Will you be alright?”

You nodded hesitantly, though privately you weren’t so sure, your heart beating like a drum.

Hiccup sighed, “We’re just headed to the sea stacks, right?”

“Yeah,” You took a few hesitant, shaking breaths before swinging yourself up on the saddle behind Hiccup, who looked back at you, securing his helmet as if he thought it might be better that he leave you behind, as if you might shatter at the slightest breeze.

“Thanks for taking me,” You looked away, ears burning shamefully. The things you could forage for on Berk weren’t cutting it. You needed the extra coin.

You jolted suddenly as you took off, alarm racing up and down your spine as you pressed yourself flush to Hiccup. You kept your eyes as straight ahead as possible, knowing that looking down, at the disappearing dow of Berk in the distance, would be your downfall.

You noticed Hiccup kept close to the ocean floor, guiding Toothless only just high enough to cleanly avoid the ocean waves below.

Past the wind rushing through your hair, the pressure plugging your eardrums and the sound of Toothless’ wings beating through the air, you realized that this wasn’t so bad.

Eventually your breathing evened and you were able to loosen up to some degree.

You leaned your head against his neck, arms relaxing slightly around your torso though your front stayed no less melded to his back.

You noticed the two of you had wandered all the way down, strolling the boundary between grazing fields, dotted by sheep, and the closer line of houses to your right.

You were still a slight bit shaken, though you’d made it back with all of your things intact plus extra, which was alright enough.

Hiccup looked back and forth, at where your hut ended just beyond the Great Hall, probably wondering if he should have been the one to walk you back instead.

“I don’t eat down at the hall much,” You looked back, keeping the silent ‘or ever’ to yourself.

“Well, I can understand why,” Hiccup looked to the side, voice sardonic, as the two of you, from a distance, watched Tuffnut and Snotlout wrestling for a plated chicken leg. You weren’t sure how they got so far out from the Great Hall so quickly. As far as you were aware, they didn’t serve food this early.

“Would you?” He asked.

Snotlout was able to pin Tuffnut to the ground, about to take a bit from the leg in his meaty grasp before Tuffnut basked him over the back of his head with the empty plate.

The other Riders were sat around him at the high table.

Hiccup seemed uncomfortable sitting up on the elevated platform reserved for the Chief and company by the forefront of the Great Hall. Out of place. Not quite like he was in shoes he hadn’t grown into yet, as was the saying, but more as if he was standing in front of a pair of shoes that did not belong to him at all.

You asked yourself if he might be more comfortable down with the common folk.

You sent him a small wave just as the two of you met eyes, Hiccup at once sending a complimentary quirk of the lips back.

You came.

It took you a few days to get there, but eventually you worked up the courage to make it down and to sidle around the heavily concentrated group of Vikings in the open floor of the hall.

Just as I promised.

You gave him a half-smile, lifting a spoon of stew to your mouth. It had been a while since you had tasted something from the hall. You had to admit it was a taste that you couldn’t replicate, not that you tried. You weren’t sure whether or not it was something you liked.

A crowd of Vikings obscured your vision as they walked past, large mugs and plates in hand.

You stared down at your bowl of stew and the thin slice of bread on the place beside it, wondering if all of this was worth it.

You were surprised when Hiccup settled down in front of you, startling you out of your own musings, plate of his own in hand.

You peered round him, back at the table to see the rest of the Riders and Gobber back up on the podium. They seemed just as equally confused.

“What brings you down here?” You got the vague idea that it was expected, though not a requirement of the Chief, for Hiccup to sit up by the front table. Something about establishing authority and basking in the attention or something before it wore off, you didn’t care.

It didn’t seem like something Hiccup was interested in, anyways.

“What, no ‘hello?’”

“Nope,” You popped the ‘p’ as Hiccup pulled out his journal from under his arm, settling it on the table to his side. You stared at brown leather and at all the small bits of parchment sticking out the sides.

“Let me see,” You said,

“You sure?” Hiccup asked with a crooked smile.

You nodded, beckoning him over to your side of the table, craning your neck as he laid the book out in front of you and settled down besides.

“What’s that?” You pointed downwards, as he began flipping through the pages.

“What, this?”

You hummed, “No, go back.”

Hiccup blinked, and you saw the minor realization wash over his face before he flipped back the page almost reluctantly, revealing a messily sketched out crack in the earth and a crude map of the archipelago with a bunch of x-es littering random regions over the sea.

“Do you mind if I…?”

He shook his head no, handing over his notebook as you pushed aside your stew.

You read over some of the notes to the side, furrowing your brow.

“The Caldera,” You said, remembering the old wives tale.

“Yeah,” Hiccup rubbed his neck, “I didn’t mean for you to see it, but what do you think?”

“There’s something about it, I don’t know,” You said, shrugging, “It would be really nice.”

Hiccup scrubbed his neck embarrassedly, “It’s just a fantasy I have sometimes.”

“Is that why you spent so much time wandering?” You nodded your head, taking a sip from the large mug in front of you with hunched shoulders, “It would make a great discovery.”

Hiccup nodded.

You got it. It was unbelievably unrealistic, but that was probably the point. It was something for him to chase after even after everything else became unfamiliar. There was something charming about its unattainability, in a way.

Mead. Maybe it was a comfort you yourself craved.

You barely paid attention as you filled your mug and his, watching as, across the hall and through warm and bustling bodies, Hiccup and Astrid spoke.

It was with all of the passion of a newly split couple. Though you couldn’t hear everything, you could see the meaningful tilt of Hiccup’s brown, the way his shoulders only moved when he spoke about something worthwhile, and the emotive movement of his hands.

They were leaning close together by a gaggle of the others, speaking in whispers. It was probably nothing of consequence to you. She was, still, his right hand woman.

But he looked at her like she hung the stars and wove this very Earth, hanging on to her every word, no matter the severity or banality.

You downed a mug, mead dripping down the corner of your chin. You wiped it off with your chin, lamenting and then going after another. It would take quite a great deal for you to get drunk.

You watched as Astrid walked away, back turned to Hiccup, her side exposed to you, and took note of the way, mouth open as if to speak, he reached out slightly, like he might be able to pull her back by some invisible string.

Your heart beat against itself, rhythm as loud and violent to your ears as the crashing waves outside down by the coast. You ignored it, tucking it away like a book under your pillow in the dark of night.

You furrowed your brows, picking up another mug and filling it to the brim. It was only considerate, if you were going to drink.

Your arms were full of mugs by the time you thought to wander back, balanced unevenly in your arms. He might need it just as bad as you did.

You’d stumbled back to Hiccup’s hut in the dark, chuckling and laughing like a pair who didn’t want to do much besides forget the world around you.

There was something tense in the air between the two of you despite the physical closeness. You weren’t quite sure when or how the two of you had fallen into each other, or why you thought this was a good idea.

You gasped through the press of lips and the taste of ale on tongue, backed up against a wooden wall, head pressed back against the hard, uneven surface.

You pulled apart, and Hiccup leaned forwards to rest his forehead against the wall by your head, panting in your ear.

You weren’t sure who you’d slept with and who you hadn’t. Many drunk nights at the Hall, sneaking large mugs of ale and mead into your small, lonely corner meant many mornings slung over beds in houses you weren’t familiar with. Being so disconnected meant it was easy for you to slip out and away without anyone noticing.

But you knew you were here, and you were here now.

You slipped your knee between his legs. He ground down on it.

Your undergarments were up to scratch this time, though you weren’t sure if you needed them.

You felt the rise and quell of feeling and emotion and dead conversation. You searched for something to say, something to soothe, to matter or to not in a way that mattered the way someone did when they knew they weren't great, but wanted to be.

He looked exhausted. Tired from hours on his feet, time he wasn’t allowed to spend alone and a while too long throwing ideas on building, automatic tailfins and infrastructure between the two of you.

Guilt curled around like a tiny worm in your stomach. It was the same feeling you got falling from a high place, the same kind you avoided every time you saw a dragon take off into the air.

You pondered if you should ask, wondering if it was fair to want him to take the first step or back away, hands drifting back and forth underwater.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” He said, and you weren’t sure why.

You tilted your head, sitting across from Hiccup in the same spring from before. His calf was pressed between your ankles, brushing over scar tissue as Hiccup sandwiched your left ankle between that and his other leg.

“Me too.” You were sorry, for taking up his time and his space, when all he wanted was something else. You thought he might rather be alone. If that was the case, you knew you would go.

Calves and ankles pressed together, shifting against each other under the water testingly.

Your face was red, heated by steam. Hiccup looked the same.

You scooted closer. Hiccup shifted forwards on his arms, leaning nearer to you.

You weren’t sure where you stood, since the night you spent together. You didn’t know if it meant anything or not, if it was a tryst born from your interest or Hiccup’s want to forget Astrid. You couldn’t remember.

But.

“Is it…?” He asked, eyes half-lidded.

You drifted forwards, standing up in the spring and met him the rest of the way, thighs slotted together.

Your arms were braced on either side of him underwater, palms resting on the smooth ledge surface.

Hiccup rested his hand on your arm, the other by your waist.

There were too many things between the two of you that went left unsaid. You hoped that one day you’d be able to say them.

“A-ash…” He breathed into your mouth.

You half-slid, half-climbed down the rocky cliffside, grinning to yourself as Hiccup jogged after, falling slightly behind your enthusiasm.

To be honest, you weren’t so sure about sharing this secret with Hiccup. It felt weighty, like you were putting it to bed somehow and you weren’t sure you liked that, not ready to give up your reprieve.

It was private to you, but also, maybe it would be worth it, to share something so nice with someone else. There was a low chance he hadn’t seen it yet anyways. Soon, the others would find out and all the other Vikings would start funneling in, you were sure.

You slid to a stop just barely in time, backtracking with your arms out, stumbling back-first into Hiccup.

The two of you fell backwards, Hiccup falling into a set of bushes stationed behind you.

“Oh, ow,”

“Are you alright?” You asked him, as you separated, quickly scooting over and peering down at him as he pulled himself from the fanning ferns.

The two of you were surrounded by rocks and fauna, world dark and blue in a way that felt fresh and new and freeing.

This ledge was one that was difficult to get to unless you knew the way, which you won through hard-earned practice and exploration.

The grass under you was cold, and wet from dew, But that was one of the many things you ceased to notice once you peered over the edge, at the beginning of a beautiful flickering.

“I’m alright,” Hiccup smiled, rubbing his head. You tried to look around him as if you might be able to see the back of it from the angle you were sitting.

“Look,” You pointed forwards with a breathy grin, as Hiccup settled himself beside you, your legs hanging limply over the side of the clifface.

He followed your direction, and he breathed. You could see the exact moment he looked down into the waters, calmer than they should be, always seeming flat and unassuming in this area.

You watched him focus, taken in by the mesmerizing sight.

Tiny dragons lit up the sea below, blinking pale pinks and greens and blues under the shifting water, looking very much like small, twinkling gems by the sand.

It was what you assumed was a mix between the glowing algae left over from the Flightmare’s time in the archipelago and the new, different kinds of dragons flooding Berk.

The two of you relaxed into the scene, calming in a way you were hard pressed to calm anywhere else. Maybe you had made the right call.

It was a while before either of you would break the silence

“I…” Hiccup started, he looked at you with open eyes, “I…”

You perked up slightly, turning your head by the most minute degree, watching him from the corner of your eye. You waited, giving him time to articulate himself.

“...I miss…”

His eyes twinkled, lights dancing in the shine of them, moving back and forth with the lights below. You softened in them, twisting so you were looking at him directly.

You wondered what he missed. You wondered if it was something to quell or nurture the beating blooming jittering feeling growing in your chest.

“Them,” Hiccup said finally, lamely, before stopping, leaning against your shoulder.

At the last moment, he looked away, pulling his hands off the ground and you read something a little like shame on his face as he said it, or on as much face as you could see, carefully tilted away from you.

You were sure you knew who, or whom he meant.

You remembered how he looked at Astrid the other night as she walked away. How something in his eyes just seemed to storm.

You remember how glum he was, still was, after the passing of his father, tall and mighty in a way that seemed to make him immortal.

You were glad. Just glad, and disappointed, in equal measure. But also you also couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that he hadn’t said something else.

You leaned back with equal weight onto his shoulder, though instead of feeling any sort of the warmth or amity you should have felt- or peace, like you usually did, staring down at the swirling lights, dancing with the currents- you just felt empty.

You took in the rustling of leaves behind you, the chittering and splashing of small dragons as they leapt out of the water, filling the air below with a colorful, glowing spray. Anything but the man besides you. The Chief, now.

“I know.”

#not an exact fill but close enough #no clinginess sorry could not work it in #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #toothless #httyd imagine #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #gender neutral reader

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hiccupbutpurple · 7 months

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I got reminded of your age regression fic post that I have a small headcanon that Krogan is an age regressor/or just someone who really enjoys acting childish and playing with toys an$ being a kid because he had no childhood to speak of, at times due to stress, and then it pooled down into ideas towards how Hiccup and Viggo would react to it. Especially since Krogan would have kept this fact a secret due to the fear of having some of the few toys he has to play with by himself taken away from him since that has happened before.

Viggo at least already knows Krogan has a stuffed toy he sleeps with, her name is Kitty, and when one of them notices that Krogan is starting to shut down/revert, Krogan is terrified and just shuts down more because despite his fear of judgement and backlash, the urge to cry is too strong and it feels good to cry because it helps him feel a little better.

A resin for this happening is that Krogan gets captured or something, he’s branded again during his time in there, possibly worse, etc.

Hiccup and Viggo though, are more than open to him during the time he’s relapsed/in his regressed state (if that’s the right word), so that when he comes back out of it, he is all parts confused because in most cases he’s brutally punished for regressing until he comes back out of the state- the longest he’s gone is about a year, and even then, the only reason he would come out of the state is after he just started being ignored.

Idk the silly thoughts. Never gotten to put it in a fic though. (I’m probably going to do more research on the topic as I do this though:)

Ahahahah yes that’s so cute! Honestly the httyd fandom is kinda barren of age regression content (there is some but not a whole lot) lol so it would be cool to see more! And yeassss Krogan would be so cute with caregiver Viggo and Hiccup!

Considering I headcanon Hiccup to age regress and of course I’ve pictured Viggo with him, I feel like Viggo would be that calm and strict but gentle kinda caregiver. No nonsense but he still understands that kids will be kids and that involves some silliness sometimes. I feel like he would indulge a little in games on occasion if Hiccup (or in this case Krogan) really pleaded with him! He would probably really enjoy teaching as well! He would be very observant and I love him knowing about Kitty! Maybe he would subtly reference her when he thinks Krogan needs to calm down a little once Krogan gets more comfortable with the idea of having actual caregivers.

I think Hiccup would be able to convince Viggo to get into the more fantastical games and imagination with Krogan too. Hiccup basically already interacted with kids in canon but only briefly so we didn’t see to much but I think he’d be fairly indulgent (like how he invites the dragon explorers in for food but just lets them play with Toothless easily), he’s not overly authoritative with kids (Viggo would fit that better) unless there is danger or something important I think but that’s not so say kids don’t listen to him, just that he’s more easy going, if a little unsure and awkward at times. I think he would love sharing drawings and creating stuff (both as caregiver and regressor).

And yes fear of judgment (especially when critiqued for it before) absolutely would make him even more scared and wanting to hide it! (I’ve got a bit of a scene of that for my Hiccup one when he gets overwhelmed by everyone around him and regresses further leading to a breakdown and I can def see that happening with Krogan, he deserves a good cry!)

Also ahahahah being regressed and tortured would be so dark and scary, not to mention the possible long term impacts of associating a potentially previously safer mindset with newfound trauma, or getting even more reason to struggle with regression if there was already childhood trauma within the regression. And Viggo and Hiccup making him feel okay and telling him it’s alright would be so sweet!

Also just for extra info cause I can’t help myself! I’m not exactly an expert and can only speak from my experiences but i see a lot of things about people fully not having any awareness of older age, and that can happen, but it’s also possible to have awareness rather then fully being small and both can still be involuntary and voluntary. One thing as well is teen regression (which is another element of the story I’m working on!) is another thing that has potential too! From what I can tell and based on myself, there’s a tone of different experiences of age regression both voluntary and involuntary. I love the idea of him choosing to act childish too to make up for childhood, that I would also count as age regression personally, considering it’s a coping mechanism!

#httyd krogan #hiccup haddock #viggo grimborn #vigcup #age regression #agere #httyd #rtte #torture mention #caregiver Viggo #caregiver Hiccup #regressor Krogan #regressor Hiccup

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rosiethedragongeek · 1 year

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I would sell my soul for a GOOD httyd game. Like, not neccisarily open world (cause depending on some stuff that can get kinda dodgy at times, even if I do love my open world games)

Like give me a game where I can find and help and train dragons.

(extra points if more night furies are found cause like none of the games are Canon anyway so we might as well make the game as cool as possible)

Like we have basic mechanics (courtesy of sod because as much as a have my gripes with that game it sets a pretty okay base for what could be a genuinly good httyd game could be)

Just... Please... Let me design a game I could make it so good and cool and amazingplsplspls

Honestly yeah that sounds amazing. You're kinda right, open world games have their own drawbacks that can be hard to work around sometimes, I think when it comes down to it, I just wanna see a good HTTYD game.

(and the night fury thing? yes please???? (but if there were a chance the game could be considerd canon i would happily give up the night furies bc i live for canon httyd content lol, especially stuff i haven't seen yet)

I'd definitely rather see resources being poured into the HTTYD franchise going to a cool game like this or something than Nine Realms and a live action

#i'm sorry i'm getting around to this so late #i just want a httyd game so BAD #i wanna train dragons #i wanna train dragons i wanna train dragonsoiwannatraindrago;ns #please iw anna train dragons so bad #how to train your dragon #httyd #thank you for the ask <3

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toothbrushfingers · 1 year

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Hi, Justbirdie!

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Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom:

How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)

Characters:

Snotlout Jorgenson

Eret Son of Eret

Astrid Hofferson

Hookfang (How to Train Your Dragon)

Stormfly (How to Train Your Dragon)

Additional Tags:

Caring Snotlout Jorgenson

Snotlout Jorgenson-centric

Snotlout angst

BAMF snotlout jorgenson

how is that not a tag?

Eret and snotlout literally doing a mind meld

he may have one brain cell but he uses it when it counts

sweetie

your blorbo is bonding with your other blorbo!

Language:EnglishSeries:← Previous Work Part 6 of Httyd stuff, ← Previous Work Part 5 of Snotlout whumpppppStats:Published:2023-01-16Words:830Chapters:1/1Kudos:1Hits:11

Bird in a golden cage.

Justbirdie

Summary:

Work Text:

Snotlout watched as Drago screamed Bloody Mary at his poor dragon causing Hookfang to bow down slowly, he cried out his poor dragon's name as Drago put a foot down over his snout! Snotlout begged for him to stop, but the monster of a man didn’t listen.

He looked at Eret as the muscular man was being interrogated but his face of traitorous rage turned to confusion as he saw just how terrified the man was.

Astrid butt in ranting about Berk’s tracking dragons as Eret desperately tried to motion for her to stop. After what he’d heard, Drago ordered his army to stop all preparations, they were going to take down the ‘nest’ and then… go after Berk!

Snotlout snapped back to his senses as he realized they had taken some of his secret knives, but definitely not all of them. He discretely reached inside his secret pocket of his leggings as they walked the ship, away from Drago, and pulled out a knife… he cut at his bindings carefully until he was loose! He began talking confidently.

“Y’know Eret… as traitorous as you’ve been I have to hand it to you, you're a very skilled fighter.” Eret looked extremely baffled as did the rest of the group. The recruits eyed him suspiciously, but brushed it off as delirium. Snotlout continued.

“I mean you could probably work with anything right? An ax, a spear, a knife …” Now everyone was extremely confused as he put extra emphasis on the small weapon. Eret was catching on.

“Sure…?” He stated

“And I bet you could wrestle anything!” He said his next words slowly, eyeing Eret, who smirked. “A bear, a dragon, a DUCK!” He shouted as he threw his knife at Eret, allowing him to free himself. The others followed his instructions, narrowly missing a knife to the head. Eret began attacking immediately, swapping the knife for two spears from a knocked out soldier using them to free the others. Snotlout jumped into the fray, attacking endlessly.

Eventually the troops were all unconscious or dead and everyone rushed to the dragon traps to rescue their dragons. Snotlout bolted to the largest trap secretly, where he hoped his monstrous nightmare was.

—/—

Snotlout opened the cage and jumped down to see a chained down, bone dry, monstrous nightmare.

“HOOKY!” He whispered. “What did they do to you! They must’ve taken away your gel huh?” The short Viking cooed his poor dragon. “I promise we’re going to eat like kings when we get home! Promise!” Hookfang looked up a little, gratefully.

“Alright let’s get you out hmm?” Snotlout smirked as he unchained his dragon watching as he slowly stood and right has he thought they were going to leave, the noirette was scooped by his dragon and gently nuzzled for a long time, play wrestling and bringing the Viking to tears that his best friend was here.

Snotlout touched his snout and Hookfang recoiled. Shifting back a few feet.

“Hooky…?” Snotlout immediately realized the problem. “Hookfang! I promise it’s me! Not Drago!” They both flinched at the name that they’d all be haunted by for the rest of their life, he was fine with that though… I mean, he still remembers Viggo!

“I swear Fangster, no one with any sense will ever do that to you again!” He walked gently and quietly to his dragon, reaching out his hand to his snout looking away.

Snotlout had never known what it was like to be Hiccup… he thought it must have been amazing! ‘Master of all dragons’ able to be such a smart person and a leader was something Snotlout was not blessed in.

But in that moment, the fear of rejection and death that would follow if this didn’t work, suddenly made him feel sorry all over again for how he’d treated the future chief.

But then, Hookfang hesitantly moved his snout to connect with his rider’s hands. Snotlout nearly melted at the touch, tears coming to his eyes all over again.

The dragon pulled back and for a second, the short Viking worried he’d done something wrong until he was flipped in the air, landing on Hookfang’s saddle!

The nightmare squawked at him and Snotlout patted him reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t mention anything to the others!” He rolled his eyes as Hooky purred in agreement. Snotlout smirked.

“Now, LET’S GO KICK DRAGO’S ASS!” He roared and Hookfang flew out of the trap at lightning speed onto the battlefield, where the other riders were soon to join them.

“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH SNOTLOUT!” Astrid shouted over the wind, Eret attempting to ride Stormfly directly infront of her.

“Teaching on the fly! I like it!” He stated sarcastically,

The blonde rolled her eyes, and Snotlout saw a hint of worry.

“but yeah we needed a bit of… catch up time.”

Astrid shrugged and the two went their separate ways destroying all the traps that dare cross the riders.

Snotlout knew they’d come out on top.

ooo hoo hoo i like it

we didn’t get nearly enough snotfang in the movies and it makes me sad

beautiful one shot 10/10

#httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd fandom #httyd movies #snotlout jorgenson #snotlout snotlout oi oi oi #snotlout #snotfang #hookfanghttyd #hooky #hookfang #httyd 2 #drago bludvist #fanfiction #httyd fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #snotlout one shot

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rust-is-a-car-disease · 1 year

Text

Hi! Im Ly! I tend to switch between fandoms quite a bit. I am a minor.

Other names include Wolfy and some variation of Lou or Qeu (pronounced Q). My user for a lot of stuff is LouieQeu.

Fandom im most interested in currently: Debut or die

Fandoms: villanous, the novel's extra, gen loss, rottmnt, villain to kill, mcyt(hermitcraft), marvel, danny phantom, dc(batfam n very very rarely john constantine), parts of genshin impact, the stanley parable, bungou stray dogs, boku no hero academia, omniscient reader viewpoint, undertale, tmnt in general, welcome home arg, rise of the guardians (specfically jack frost), fnaf and some comics with little fan content(are they even considered fandoms??)

Ships u might see on my blog: yoo joonghyuk x kim dokja (both orv), stanley x narrator (both tsp), soukoku aka chuuya x dazai (both bsd), hiccup(httyd) x jack frost(rotg) and batfam member(dc) x danny/jazz phantom(dp) + anything i see pop up that i might like

Crossovers im more interested in than others: dc x dp, rotg x httyd and orv x tcf

Occasionally watches: kryoz, smii7y, rtgame, blitz, lets game it out, worstpremadeever and kaif

My main rp blog: @imahallucinationbabyyyyy

WARNING: My blog has posts that may be triggering but arent tagged. Please be careful and if you realise a post might be triggering to you pls avoid reading it!!

#will update this as time goes on #tags 4 my convinience:#*xisuma*#*etho*#to read mark #tbc mark #*important*#edit: seeing my own post on a very specific search i did to look for content jumpscare #lou's ridiculous ideas

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e-wills-afterhours · 2 years

Text

Vetrnaetr

Author's Note: This is the direct sequel to my other fic, Affairs Of The Heart. You can muddle through without having read the first installment of what will be a trilogy (this fic is part 2), but there is a LOT you are missing that was established in Affairs Of The Heart. This story takes place approximately three months later, in this universe's timeline, during the scared holiday season of Vetrnaetr (Winter Nights). That would be the end of October by the Gregorian calendar, but Vikings only acknowledged two seasons: winter and summer. The holiday of Vetrnaetr marked the end of summer and the summer's harvest, and the start of winter. It was one of the three most sacred holidays on the Viking calendar, for context. I, of course, will be taking many, many historical and cultural liberties here—but so does HTTYD proper. Think of this depiction of Vetrnaetr as loosely based upon the real holiday as opposed to an accurate representation of it. I mean, dragons. C'mon. Let's not split hairs.

Also, heads up for adult content. Not necessarily explicit, but it's clearly there.

Finally...***RTTE is not canon in Affairs-verse. This will make more sense later.***

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

The seasons were changing again, bidding farewell to the extra hours of leisure found in summer's warmth. Though early winter had its appeal, with the bountiful harvests, spiced cider; and the comforting aroma of crackling fires and dying leaves; the transition between the two seasons seemed abrupt. Winter was the time of year riddled with weddings and holidays to distract from creeping frost and numb fingers. Summer would be sorely missed; for three glorious months, the sun shone for most of the day, basking the Isle of Berk in its radiance—when it was not raining, which it often did. The remainder of the year, however, could be described as somewhere between, "Oh, Thor, I can't feel my face," and, "take a breath outside and your lungs will freeze.” The nights grew longer, the days shorter, and the biting cold settled over the archipelago. Every year, the same routine.

Hiccup shivered and buried deeper into his bundle of furs, shielding himself from the morning's chill that seeped uninvited through his bedroom window. Astrid had climbed out of his room in the middle of the night, leaving him naked and content, with the memory of her skin beneath his fingertips.

He sighed, waking slowly. His pillow still smelled of his girlfriend's hair—perfumed hints of snow gentian, primrose, and lye soap—and he buried his face into it, wishing they did not have to maintain an appearance of propriety after their relationship had been so hard-won. Kissing in public was only just enough anymore—but it did keep his lips warm.

As if it sensed his faint smile and aimed to snuff it out, a gust of wind rattled his shutters, making him burrow deeper. Berk's cold, damp climate permeated everything, and it was just a natural part of being a Hooligan to embrace such misery. Dragons were not so tolerant.

Hiccup heard a growl. A scaly little body rummaged around beneath the covers. A tail brushed his stomach and he snorted into the furs; he had always been ticklish there.

Sharphot turned around three times, pulling the covers loose from Hiccup's head and shoulders as he wound himself up in them. With a soft grunt, the dragon settled into the concavity of his human's somewhat fetal position. In the summers, Hiccup's preferred method of sleep was sprawled out with his one foot exposed. As the temperature dropped, he drew his limbs in tighter; and his Terrible Terror was all too keen to share a bed.

"You're welcome," Hiccup mumbled, patting the dragon beneath the furs. He allowed Sharpshot to have his way too often; large eyes narrowed with envy in the shadows of the room. "I'm sorry, Toothless. You're too—," he paused for a yawn, "—big."

The Night Fury growled in disapproval, dropping his head onto his claws.

"Don't be so dramatic," Hiccup sighed, but he sat up regardless.

He reached for his pants, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to work them on with practiced ease. It used to be a clumsy task, balancing as he pulled them up his hips. Now, it was muscle memory. He held on to the bedpost as he retrieved his prosthesis, which he kept on top of the wooden chest at the foot of his bed. He deftly fastened it to the stump of his leg before bearing weight on it, making sure it was secure. The design had come a long way since its inception; the newest model was lighter, so it was not quite as uncomfortable as its predecessor.

He finished dressing and stretched out his right shoulder, which seemed to ache more now that the air was cold and dry, echoing the occasional twinge in his leg. He kneaded the stiff muscles with his other hand, feeling a faint burning sensation that radiated down to his fingertips.

The wound was still mending at its own pace. He frowned, knowing that there would always be some residual nerve damage that time would not overcome. He put on a brave face, like he did in those first days when his amputation was new. Considering how bad the injury had been, he was pleased with how well it was healing; the stab had been clean. More than anything, he was relieved it did not hamper his ability to fly with Toothless.

"Ready?" Hiccup asked, glancing at the Night Fury. His voice was still thick and his eyes were half-lidded with grogginess. He combed through his sleep-tousled hair with his fingers.

Toothless bounded over, bright and alert; and completely forgiving Sharpshot's transgression.

The Terrible Terror nestled into the blankets, occupying the still-warm space Hiccup's body left behind. He was nothing but an asymmetric lump beneath a mound of furs.

Hiccup smiled and shook his head, limping for the door like he did every morning until his leg readjusted from a night unhindered. His gait stabilized by the time he reached the stairs, and he took them quickly with Toothless close behind.

"Morning son," Stoick greeted as mismatched feet hit the bottom step. The man was enjoying his breakfast before his unending responsibilities took him elsewhere. The bowl and spoon were always dwarfed in his colossal hands. "Toothless," he added with a nod, sliding forward a plate of cod from yesterday's haul, still flecked with some of the ice in which they had been packed.

"Dad," Hiccup acknowledged, taking the plate of cod and tossing the fish into the air.

Toothless snapped up his breakfast in one mouthful.

"Are you taking him flying, then?" Stoick asked, but with that unnerving tone that made Hiccup bristle.

"Yeah. Like I do almost every morning. Why?" he replied, dropping into the seat across the table. He smoothed down his untidy hair.

Discussing his plans for the day was just a prelude to something unpleasant. Hiccup recognized that rise of bushy eyebrows and that subtle, yet uncomfortable squirm of his father's large frame.

"I take it you know what time of the year it is," Stoick said, setting his jaw.

Hiccup stared at him. "Well, if the garlands and wedding feasts have been any indication this past month, then I'd say it's—"

"Vetrnaetr is almost upon us."

Hiccup quirked an eyebrow, pulling his breakfast toward him. "Right, and that's good, isn't it? Revels and alcohol? You'll have a happy tribe of Vikings on your hands. What more could a chief possibly ask for? Though, there will be drunk flying, and probably more than one traumatic case of indecent exposure." He muttered under his breath, "Probably Gobber again…"

Stoick cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "In a few days, I'll be sailing to Helgafell, to give thanks to the gods, and offer up a sacrifice to see us through the winter."

"Ah, right. The old 'animal sacrifice to the Dísir so our crops grow' routine." Sarcasm dripped from every syllable as Hiccup popped a piece of honeyed bread into his mouth.

Stoick rubbed his forehead. "Hiccup, when you're chief, these customs will be your responsibility."

"Isn't that what we have Gothi for? Isn't she kind of our resident mystic?"

Stoick scowled, breathing deeply as he did whenever he bit back a scathing rebuke. He began, "I'm leaving—"

Hiccup held up his hands. "I promise I won't let Snotlout or the Twins burn the village down in the meantime."

His father added, nodding more to himself as his eyes narrowed with conviction, "You're coming with me."

Hiccup's face fell. "What? Why?" he snapped. "Dad, no! I-I have plans! I—Astrid and I were going to start on this mapping project we've—Is this because I left the forge unattended again? What did Gobber tell you? I had a perfectly good reason—"

"It's not a punishment, son!" Stoick interrupted, cutting the air with a decisive hand. "You're eighteen. It's time we start taking your training seriously. You're going to be the next chief, Odin help me."

"You're not going to keel over and die anytime soon, Dad! Why rush it?" Hiccup argued. "Surely we can wait another year…or five."

"This isn't negotiable, Hiccup! I've made up my mind on this."

"Right, so that means what I want is irrelevant."

Hiccup felt suddenly fifteen again, debating his father on dragon training and losing for a lack of understanding.

Stoick stood, jamming his helmet on his head. "It's only a week, son." He strode toward the door. "When we get back, you'll be assisting me full time with preparations for Vetrnaetr."

Indignation rippled up Hiccup's spine and he swiveled in his seat to glare at the last hint of his father's fur cape retreating into the dim morning light.

He threw one hand up in exasperation. "Sure! Leave that part until last!"

The door slammed and he could hear the voices beyond it:

"Ohh, morning Stoick! I take it by your scowl and the raised voices that you told him," Gobber greeted.

The conversation faded as the two men hurried away, but Hiccup caught his father's reply. "I swear, it's like pulling teeth, Gobber. Trying to get him to do anything he doesn't want to do…"

Hiccup pursed his lips, glaring a hole in the table. His hands balled to fists in his lap.

His father spoke for his time so freely, without much consideration or forewarning. After all, being the chief meant the man just about owned the island and every blade of grass on it. What should his son be but another possession to manipulate as he liked, Hiccup's own plans be damned? Perhaps he and his father could have an agreeable exchange for once, if he was not "volun-told" with such finality.

Toothless warbled, nudging Hiccup with his snout. His pupils were rounded, ears drooped.

"It's alright, bud," Hiccup sighed, stroking the dragon's head. His frustrations ebbed as his fingers traced over smooth black scales. "I've lost my appetite."

He pushed away from the table and Toothless perked up. They both needed the flight now.

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

Hiccup was certain Norsemen had an innate tolerance for the cold. Sure, his fingers were numb on his dragon's reins, and the wind cut through all of his layers without mercy. His cheeks stung and his eyes watered in the thin air of approaching winter, but it to be expected. He still kept flying and the village below him kept working despite the climate, which most would find uninhabitable. Dragons circled below as fishing vessels set their nets; and Hiccup flew Toothless over the island like a silent, black specter, born of the wispy clouds. Berk fell behind them, the open sky was all that was in front of them, with the vast sea below.

Perhaps the excitement of the impending festivities was enough to warm the souls of everyone else: elation that spread into their fingers and toes; and kept them working diligently for the celebration to come. Who could be dour with the hopes of a new year and the fresh start it would bring—besides Hiccup, of course, to whom the carefree frivolity of Vetrnaetr had just become a relic of childhood.

Responsibilities he neither wanted, nor needed, piled up. He could not even begin to name them all: festival preparations, coordination of the trade of essential goods with Johann, keeping the Twins from destroying anything, taking an active role in the spiritual proceedings, overseeing the winter sports, keeping the Twins from destroy anything, collection of the annual fealty pledges, undoubtedly political goings-on during the trip to Helgafell, and making sure the Twins did not destroy anything —all while maintaining the poise and dignity of a proper Heir of Berk. He was still expected to organize the dragon races; and keep the promises he made to Astrid —which were of very little consequence in his father's tunnel vision.

Would he still be expected to work in the smithy? More importantly, would he be allowed to work in the smithy? An impromptu trip with his father, and helping to oversee the Vetrnaetr festival—he was not inherently opposed to either task; but a gradual easing into his future was preferable to being thrown into it, like a fledgling bird booted from its nest.

Maybe his father expected him to delegate all of the dragon-related responsibilities he actually enjoyed?

Hiccup sighed, using his fingers to comb back the bangs flapping against his forehead. Toothless's bulk shifted beneath him and he clicked his dragon's prosthetic tail into position without a thought. The tail rigging was second nature to him. That subtle roll of Toothless's shoulders preceded a sharp pitch to left. Hiccup learned to feel it more than look for it. He felt the Night Fury's movements in his legs, and there was a corresponding twitch of his own muscles. Ever since that nearly catastrophic first flight together, there was a mental and physical synchronization, almost innate. To fly with Toothless was to come as close as Hiccup ever could to being a dragon: to that unbending freedom he could almost taste and so deeply envied.

Time was of little concern among the clouds, and he judged the length of their flight by the satisfaction of his Night Fury. If Toothless was content, so was he; and they reached that point by more than leisurely flying. Drops, turns, inversions—maneuvers other dragons could not accomplish with such speed and grace—were a necessary thrill to take away the stress; to let it plummet into the glistening sea with every daring loop and roll.

Hiccup patted his dragon's thick neck after some time, and Toothless warbled out a note as bright as the light reflecting off the waves. He was sated and Hiccup could relate. At least an hour had passed. Maybe closer to two, judging by the sun's position. However long it had been was almost enough time to process what the next couple of weeks had in store, and to make some kind of peace with it. Almost.

"Ready to head back bud?"

The dragon growled out something akin to a yes. With another adjustment to the Night Fury's tail, they were heading toward Berk, which had become a jagged shape in the distance, rising up like a splinter from the otherwise flat sea. Frustration awaited Hiccup in the form of a towering chieftain but flying had provided enough mental clarity that he felt he could face his father and the new responsibilities of the Vetrnaetr season with a level head. Still annoyed, and still unwilling, his patience had been restored and his indignation, muted. When his father's mind was made up, it was near-unchangeable. The exhilarating wind had helped him accept the inevitable; the rush of sudden dives and severed him from his bitter mood.

The other dragon riders could occupy themselves during Hiccup’s busy season; they were all adults. But Astrid? She was once an intermittent torment he tried to ignore. Now, she was his constant: always there, always his grounding when he needed it. She had tended to his healing shoulder in the weeks after the fight, not letting him over or under exert himself; she mulled over improvements to Inferno with him; they were everything they ought to have been from the start. The last two years never happened, proving they had only been stuck in a temporary nightmare, and were finally awake. How easy it was, settling into that old, friendly rapport with the added intimacy of new lovers. No more tension buzzed between them, sexual or otherwise. Moments of laughing and playful banter often became bare skin, hot kisses, hushed moans, then back to teasing again: seamless transitions.

Relationships were supposed to be work, were they not? How often had he heard men bemoan their women—the nagging, the inability to be satisfied? Hiccup could not understand it. Being around Astrid gave him a dizzying high; an enticing delirium. She was both his affliction and his remedy.

He had her and he had Toothless; and everything else was just a passing distraction. Vetrnaetr might still be enjoyable as long as he kept them both close.

There was a twinge of regret as Toothless glided low over familiar rooftops. The same fleeting moment's lament always reared up to once again be on the ground, but it was brief. Windswept and invigorated with residual adrenaline, Hiccup dismounted his dragon. He flattened his mussed hair and felt brighter, hotter, like burning ore, and ready to channel his lingering excitement into something productive. Toothless followed. He was but Hiccup's other constant, always there: his best friend and a part of himself. Hiccup was not sure how he could make sense of anything if he did not have Toothless.

He curled one arm underneath the dragon's wide jaw in a loose embrace the Night Fury leaned into. They walked together, dodging Terrible Terrors scurrying underfoot. As they began the uphill climb home, Hiccup noticed a Deadly Nadder outside his front door. Tall, beautiful, and proud, Stormfly was a perfect match for her Viking counterpart standing beside her; and a perfect companion for Toothless.

The dragons bounded forward to greet each other, leaving Hiccup to face his girlfriend one-on-one—but there was a sharpness in her gaze that had not been directed at him in a while. He slowed to a cautious approach.

"Astrid!" he chimed, hoping a cheerful disposition would diffuse a bit of her temper—not that he had ever had much success with that strategy.

"Where were you?" she asked, folding her arms with an impatient cocking of her hip.

"Flying with Toothless." He gestured to the dragon as if the Night Fury would back him up, but Toothless was busy wrestling with Stormfly.

Astrid huffed, dropping her arms to the side. She strode toward him, more exasperated than angry. "I waited for you, practically freezing to my saddle!"

Hiccup shuffled through his memory for a fragment of conversation from the day before: an agreement that he would race through the sea stacks with her, only to then warm up with a dip in the hot springs. Their daylight intimacy was limited, and he grimaced as he recalled the new broken promise.

Astrid's mouth was a thin, tight line, and her eyes brimmed with disappointment. Hiccup could kick himself, though he was sure Astrid would have loved the pleasure of doing it for him.

"I'm so sorry, Astrid. I-I came downstairs and dad was ready to pounce with—we fought, and our plans just slipped my mind," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Her features softened. "You two fought again?"

He sighed, "When don't we fight?"

She pursed her lips, skeptical. Behind her piercing eyes was a swirling reality check: the kind she served without hesitation or sympathy. "That's being a little dramatic. Just the other day you were telling me how much better things have been since peace with the dragons."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. Astrid did not understand the utility of hyperbole. "True. He's just…you know how he is." Stubborn, coarse, demanding, with an unwavering air of superiority. A mountain of parental authority and disapproval Hiccup could never seem to scale. He was always struggling at the base, cast in his father’s perpetual shadow.

Astrid scoffed. "No, I don't know, because you stop short of telling me."

Hiccup glanced away, jaw clenched. Being the chief's son came with its unique aggravations he was not sure Astrid would appreciate. She was so barb-tongued when critical, and it was such a vulnerable aspect of his life. He did not need a lecture from his girlfriend. His father was his problem to bear; always had been. He preferred for it to stay just his problem.

"We can visit the hot springs tonight, if that still works for you," he said, redirecting the course of their conversation to putting Astrid's frustrations to rest.

She shook her head. "The point is to spend more time together in the day, Hiccup."

"We do spend time together—"

Her blue eyes shot him with a silent condemnation. "Time when I'm not just sitting on some workbench, watching you tinker with your latest project."

Hiccup's fists clenched and he bit back his defensive sarcasm that would be well applied against anyone else. He felt stung; all the smiling and stolen glances over his sketches now felt tarnished. Intentional or not, it hurt for the implications of duplicity—the bubbling thought that Astrid could be disingenuous with him just when he thought those days were over.

"You said you were happy to help," he retorted.

"I was—I am," she amended, but the echo of her prior words had not yet faded. "But I would like your attention a little more undivided so I know I'm a little more important to you than upgrading Inferno."

He built her things, flew with her often, held her and gave her his heart, his body, and his time. He never imagined it would not be enough; it was all of himself he knew how to give.

"What is it?" she asked in his silence, touching his shoulder with a tenderness that was almost an apology.

"Nothing."

She stepped closer, her touch firmed. "Hiccup—"

"It's nothing, Astrid," he reassured her from behind old walls he had all but forgotten he had.

She considered him, nodding and stepping into his arms, which came around her with less than his usual enthusiasm.

"Okay. So, tonight, we'll meet at the hot springs," she said decisively. His hum of agreement was not enough. She dipped down, catching his gaze with her unavoidable determination. "Hiccup?"

He cracked a small smile and pulled her tighter, wondering if a closer proximity would be enough to smooth things over. "Yes. I'll be there."

She seemed satisfied, so he could breathe a sigh of relief for both the notion of her happiness and his own self-preservation.

"I have to go," she said with a regret that sounded genuine. "Since you were absent, I agreed to a little field sport with Snotlout and the Twins. You could come, you know."

"I know. I just…I should really get to the smithy, as much as I would love to watch you and Snotlout bruise up the Twins." His hands ran over the curve of her back: a muted apology for another absence; a preemptive attempt to mollify her.

She shrugged but would not look at him. "I'm not surprised." She touched his chest but the passion in it was as flat at her voice. She shook her head again seeming to rebound. Her lips quirked upward and she leaned it, and Hiccup's heart stumbled into a faster cadence. "Well then…"

They kissed, warm and healing. Their embrace was tighter.

Hiccup did not feel quite as morose as he said, "I love you."

Astrid smiled and brushed the tip of her nose against his. "I love you, too."

Hiccup felt a rush of solace to know they were still awake, and not receding back into a nightmare

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

"Looking forward to Vetrnaetr this year?"

The amusement in Gobber's voice pricked Hiccup all over like a thousand Nadder spines. He set his hammer down pointedly loud, so the other man got the message. His shoulders fell and he gave his mentor a rather woolly look that would have made his father proud.

Gobber, shameless as ever, chortled. "Wee bit of a sensitive spot, I take it?"

"You knew about it."

"Eh, your father might've mentioned it, yeah." Gobber replied with a haphazard shrug.

"I suppose you agree with him," Hiccup said, striking the crooked strip of thin, glowing metal; a shrill ringing of his hammer on iron. Sparks flew.

"Not entirely. I told him if he wants you to learn to be the chief, he's got to ease you into it—let you still have your holidays, at least."

"Obviously, he didn't agree."

"Obviously."

Hiccup scoffed, feeling his right shoulder begin to ache as he squeezed the tongs, holding the fiery metal in place. He winced, like he could still feel the blade of three months past plunging into his flesh. He tapered the anger from his blows and relaxed his grip on his tools, lest he never hear the end of it from Astrid if he injured his shoulder again. All her warnings about “overdoing it” would be validated. Although, to be honest, he had found returning to such physical work therapeutic for restoring range of motion.

"He wants you to be a success, Hiccup," Gobber explained. "Figures he should give you as much time as he can for that."

The first section of Inferno's retractable blade took shape. Hiccup doused it in a bucket of water, quirking his eyebrow at Gobber through the steam. "Because he's going to die any day now?"

"Because he doesn't want to fail you."

Gobber could always find the right words for the most effective emotional snare. Hiccup glanced down into the cooling bucket where his project still sizzled in the water.

"He wasn't always so adamant about it."

"Yeah, well, before you were so…" Gobber trailed off, his vague gesturing froze in Hiccup's weary stare.

Another day, another quip about his lean, twiggy build and idiosyncrasies. He was still a fish bone, but for a larger fish.

"Still, I suppose there are worse things," he mused. "He could have sprung something like this on me months ago."

To think of training for chiefhood while he barely held himself together; trying to focus on leadership when he wanted to throw himself into the sea...

"Ha! Right! Back when you were, 'Oh no, I'm fine. I'm not pining away over Astrid! No. Fine.' You were the most not-fine person I've ever seen," Gobber chuckled.

Hiccup smiled though, taking Inferno's new piece from the water. He supposed he could look back and laugh, now that things with his lover were so secure. All those days of sulking under the pretense of apathetic disinterest seemed so distant and so ridiculous in hindsight.

"I guess some things don't change. Stoick the Vast is one of them," he quipped and Gobber snorted, fluttering his mustache.

"Aye, but some do. Like you and Astrid, eh?" the older man teased, leaning in with his large shoulders rounded and a devilish gleam in his eye.

Hiccup felt hot, but not from the forge. The bitter cold outside was almost inviting now.

"Stop."

Gobber hardly knew the meaning of the word. He continued, "Those late-night dates Stoick and I aren't supposed to know about."

Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose. He held one hand up in a plea for his dignity. "Stop."

Gobber waved his flesh hand. "Oh, you should hear your father carry on like he was never young and in love. Granted, I don't think he was rocking any beds right over his father's head, eh?" He nudged Hiccup with his thick elbow.

The image of Stoick, lying awake in his own bed, glaring a hole through the ceiling, or cramming a pillow over his head to block out the rhythmic thumping, or creaking of the floorboard—whatever it was he heard–was enough to make Hiccup nauseous. Probably just as nauseous as his father felt on the regular.

Hiccup did not know if he could have Astrid in his bed again, knowing there was likely a grumpy chieftain below them, aware of everything they were doing.

So much for being discreet.

"Astrid and I are—I don't know what you're talking about," Hiccup lied, and his ears were as red as a forge ember.

"And I wasn't born yesterday," Gobber retorted. "Young adults, in love, with working parts! Your father didn't have to tell me anything and I'd have guessed as much. You shouldn't be so modest about it—not with me anyway. After all, you won her fair and square, didn't you?"

"Astrid isn't a trophy, Gobber. I only did what I had to do to free her from Stefnir." Hiccup was willing to pick at old scabs to drag the conversation out of the hole the older man threw it in.

"Who got his happy ending, turns out. I've never seen so many flower garlands apart from your parents' wedding. Do you think the guy was making a statement?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I think the Svenson's are always trying to make a statement; but I couldn't care less. He's not my problem anymore."

"I'm sure it will stay that way, unless you try to steal this wife from him, too."

Hiccup held out his arms—a clear and indignant, "Really?"

Gobber grinned and hobbled toward the forge. "I'm going to close up shop unless you plan on working late. The moon's high."

Hiccup felt as though it was turning winter in his core as well, heart gripped in a sudden freeze. He whipped around and peered at the window. Indeed, the hour was late. He had somewhere to be and an engagement to keep.

"What? No! No, no!" He practically tore off his apron and almost tripped over his cooling bucket. He could not face another bout of that blue-eyed disappointment. "I'm not staying! I have…plans. I have to leave, I—Toothless!"

His dragon, napping in the heat of the forge, perked up at once, ears high and pupils round.

Hiccup left his Dragon Blade piece on his anvil; it would be safe. No one ever had use for any of his inventions save for himself.

He was already in the saddle as he tossed his leather apron into Gobber's expectant hand.

"Plans. Right," he said, eyes twinkling beneath that bushy unibrow. "Well, tell Astrid 'hi' for me."

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

"I'm sorry," Hiccup whispered into the humid air between their lips.

The silver moonlight played off the coiling steam and the rippling water of the hot springs in an ethereal dance. Astrid's damp skin was illuminated, pale and otherworldly. She smelled like the night and tasted like desire.

"Stop apologizing," she muttered, gliding through the water to straddle him.

Her damp hair, unbound, clung to her breasts and back, catching Hiccup's fingers like netting. Their mutual shuddering breath as she sank onto him was more articulate than words could have been. Hiccup leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers as she moved in his lap with a rhythmic undulation. A siren of the hot springs, she had him completely.

"I shouldn't have been late," he murmured. A hand slipped beneath the water to the small of her back, where he could feel the power and command in her body with every passionate roll of her hips. She took her pleasure from him, and returned it in kind.

"What kept you?" she asked.

"Sidetracked," he replied; it was hard to think. "Gobber, projects."

Astrid continued her sensual pace, braced against his chest, but something cooled in her touch.

"You need to make more of an effort, Hiccup," she sighed. "With me, I mean."

He frowned, pulling back to look past her rather than at her; and the spikes of arousal had lost their edge.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #affairs au #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson

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averys-place · 2 years

Text

TW: mentions of mental health issues and discrimination

n a v i g a t i o n

Atlas/Avery | it/they/he | queer | 16

Requests are open

!!Disclaimer!! This will be a nwlnw blog, so all reader povs will be gn!reader or masc!reader, however all readers are welcome on this blog! If gender is unspecified the default is gn!reader.

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•Intro•

Hey! I’m your local cryptid dad, but you can call me Atlas or Avery :) I have AuDHD and this is my first blog! I really enjoy writing and I hope to make someone smile with it!

In all my posts, there will be tone tags and trigger warnings when needed, as I want to make this space as safe and welcoming to as many people as possible!

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•Rules•

no discrimination of any kind is welcome on my blog. Should anyone practice any form of discrimination, they will be blocked immediately. (Meaning trans-medicalism, TERFs, transphobia, homophobia, racism, ableism, etc.)

I am a minor and on the aroace spectrum so I won’t write NSFW content.

Please be patient when requesting! I am still in school, so it may take a little to get to your request but I’ll try my very best! I also have mental health issues that may impact my timing.

Any inappropriate fetishisation of any kind is not welcome on my blog. Again, should anyone display this behaviour, you will be immediately blocked. (All fujoshis, MAPs, zoophiles, etc. will be immediately blocked and reported)

If you’re gonna be rude, please just leave now.

People of all ages may interact as this is a SFW blog. However, blank blogs can and will be blocked.

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Who I’ll write for at the moment:

Discontinued for the foreseeable future

BNHA/MHA: Bakugō Katsuki, Midoriya (Deku) Izuku, Shinsō Hitoshi, Kirishima Eijirō, Todoroki Shōto, Aizawa Shōta (platonic only), Īda Ten’ya, Dabi, Shigaraki Tomura (fem characters are only platonic)

Haikyuu!!: Hinata Shōyō, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Bokuto Kōtarō, Kuroo Tetsurō, Akaashi Keiji, Kozume Kenma, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendō Satori, Oikawa Tōru, Iwaizumi Hajime (fem characters are only platonic)

KNB: GoM (fem characters are only platonic)

Twilight: The wolf packs (Jacob Black, Seth Clearwater, Sam Uley, Paul Lahote, Embry Call, Quil Ateara V), Emmett Cullen, Jasper Hale (fem characters are only platonic)

Shadow Hunters: Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis, Magnus Bane (fem characters are only platonic)

Lotr/the hobbit: all male characters (fem characters are only platonic)

Criminal minds: all male characters (fem characters are only platonic)

Harry Potter: mainly marauders era male characters & slytherin boys(fem characters are only platonic)

HTTYD: all male dragon riders (fem characters are only platonic)

The Black Phone: Vance and Robin (I’m sorry Finney just reminds me too much of myself T-T)

DPS (Dead Poets Society): all male characters

Teen wolf: most male characters, ask if unsure (female characters are only platonic)

TOH: Hunter, Edric, Raine (young) (female characters only platonic)

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•Extra information•

Some characters may be OOC, I apologise for that.

I will do drabbles, headcannons, fics, etc.

I will on occasion write for fem characters (depending on the character) if requested.

As this blog is an inclusive space, all reader features will be left ambiguous, unless specifically requested otherwise (example: genderfluid!reader, curly haired!reader, FTM!reader, etc.)

I won’t do specifically POC!reader because I don’t have the same life experiences and I don’t want to overstep.

All reader POVs will be autistic coded.

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I look forward to hearing from people, have a great day/night! <3

Last updated: 11/11/2023

#x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x ftm reader #mha x gender neutral reader #twilight x male reader #twilight x gender neutral reader #safe space #trans inclusive blog #poc reader #Shadow hunters x male reader #Shadow hunters x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #lotr x gn reader #lotr fanfic #aragorn x reader #lotr imagine #regulus x male reader #legolas greenleaf x reader #cedric diggory x male!reader

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heliianth · 1 year

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been reading through ur urban httyd au tag and i'm going insane (/pos) over it do you have any bits to share that you haven't posted about 👀

OUGH hi im glad u enjoyed ^-^ i dont actually have a bunch of extra content unfortunately . all of it are uncleaned concept art doodles i dont want to post bc theyre so unintelligible to even me. sorry 💕

#ive been on the sonic grind AHHDGFJA #heliianswers #ur super kind tho hi :3

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smallfrogpleasedtomeetyou · 1 year

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it’s called bird in a golden cage lol, it’s on my ao3