#astrid being awkward and no knowing how to handle it

[despiteherself]

speaking of not being a picnic … heyyyyyyy astrid!

[bookns]

First time watching RTTE: S4, E11 BLINDSIDED (heads up: this is A LONG ONE)

I AM SO BEYOND EXCITED. This is all I been waiting for.

I am so excited. I love how toothless protects hiccup. Their bond is remarkable.

H: ''Look, we've dealt with way worse''

A: ''Snotlout doesn't count'' MY MAN ISNT EVEN HERE AND HES BEING DRAGGED

Seriously I love how funny this show Is. Astrid 'Storm Warden' Haddock RIGHTS. he likes her so much. AND SHE LOVES HER DRAGONS so much. oh no not the night terror being stuck. I love those little guys they are so cute. ohmygod ASTRID. THE WAY HICUP CAME RUNNING. her first words after being blinded is hiccup and the way he immeidalty kneels saying "I'm right here" ITS THE LITTLE MOMENTS OKAY?

Snotlout, my man. JUST BECAUSE TOOTHLESS IS WITH HIM DOESNT MEAN ITS ALL PEACHY. (side note: Snotlout being so worried about Hookfang. I love them so much)

H: "Let talk to her. alone." HE IS THE ONLY ONE THAT HAS HER THE WAY SHE HAS HIM. I am GOING to DIE. them holding hands and him just holding her hands together clasped in his.

A: "Hiccup, are you still there?"

H: "Yes. I'm here, Astrid."

A: "Will you and Toothless stay with me a little while?"

H: "We're not going anywhere? Are we, bud?"

AND IF I JUST SOB. toothless curled around the two of them as they sleep together. and the way Hiccup makes sure to look in her eye and he says that he and toothless will find stormfly DESPITE HER NOT BEING ABLE TO SEE.

the dig to twins - she is right though. she is more effective than those two lovable idiots.

H: "remind me to never put my foot down again" MY GUY. WE ALL KNEW SHE WAS GOING TO WIN.

HIM HOLDING ON HER WAIST. AND HER JUST HUGGING HIM. AND HIM JUST SMILING AT HER.

Fishlegs and Meatlug knows each other so well. HOOKFANG AND FISHLEGS FRIENDSHIP. not fishlegs getting abused by Hookfang.

F: "Oh, now I really know what it feels like to be Snotlout."MY MAIN MAN IS BEING DRAGGED THIS EPISODE (and I love it)

the twins are the reason Hiccup and Astrid waited years to have kids. And they are the reason everyone else has headaches.

not him landing on my girl meatlug. She is genuinely one of my favorite dragons.

not snotlout getting trampled by barf and belch. the laugh I let out.

Astrid knows Stormfly so well - she's probably right about where she is too. OHMYGOD. NOT HER TRIPPING OVER A ROCK AND HIM TRYING TO CATCH HER AND THEY ARE JUST ON TOP OF EACH OTHER PANTING. I feel the need to watch this in a room where my baby brothers aren't in. And again - this moment proves why their relationship is built on physical touch. them just breathing and 'looking at each other'. they are romance at its peak. they are so awkward with each other.

A: "There's my girl! Oh, I knew you'd come." like I said, she knows her dragon.

As someone who is terrified of losing her sight, this episode is so scary to think about.

H: "Hide behind it and you'll be safe."

A: "Hide? I'm not gonna hide. Stormfly!"

H: "Of course she's not gonna hide. What was I thinking. She's Astrid."

he knows HER SO WELL. He just knows she's Astrid so therefore she will always be ready to fight. I love how hiccup and toothless will do anything for her including doing what she hates; protecting her.

H: "You stay." bro. this shit made me giggle.

Astrid is so sassy I lover her.

R: "You want me to pull her tail off?"

T: (after several minutes) "Nope. No..No." WHY DID IT TAKE HIM THAT LONG TO THINK ABOUT IT.

Snotlout and Barf and Belch are my favorite duo. Sorry Chicken and Gobber.

S: "Me and Hooky are well oiled machines." IF I HAD TO COUNT HOW MANY TIMES HOOKFANG DID SOMETHING THAT RISKS HIS LIFE - WELL I'D LOSE COUNT.

I love fishlegs and Hookfang so much.

H E GRABBED H E R ARM. they are so close. HOLDING HANDS. okay I needed to take a pause cause I was freaking out. ohmygod what a scene. I am blushing l am dying actually.

H: "Astrid, you and I have been through everything together. You don't think we can handle this. You have me no matter what. Okay, whatever that means. Whatever you want it to mean. I am with you. There will always be a Hiccup and Astrid. Always." OKAY AND IF I JUST CRY. (Toothless's little growl at their hands clasped together)

this actually makes me sort of emotional. They did grow up together - she was the first person to be trusted with his secrets. Before anyone else, it was Hiccup and Astrid. Them just holding hands because they can and they will. I am very happy.

HIM TACKLING HER TO PROTECT HER. AND HER JUST HOLDING ON TO HIM. THEM HOLDING EACH OTHER - LITERALLY WRAPPED IN EACH OTHER'S ARM.

R: "Nice going. You know how she feels about her weight!"

I love Meatlug and the twins - this dynamic is everything to me

Snotlout being terrorized by Barf and Belch is everything to me

S: "Snotlout, Snotlout. OWOWOW" have I ever mentioned how much I love Snotlout

The absolute joy on my face when watching this show. Please this episode is a favorite.

Hookfang is a baby and Fishlegs just standing up for himself - you go Fishy -

Hiccup standing in the rain holding Inferno - where the fuck is that in the edits.

S: "Where's Fishface."

T: "I haven't got a clue."

S: "Yeah, I know."

THE LAUGH I LET OUT (on a very silent plane mind you). I love this show.

The whole crew switching dragons is so good - I need to see more Hookfang and Fishlegs

Again WHERE ARE MY EDITS OF HICCUP IN THE RAIN

yo Barf and Belch are actually so powerful and we should talk about it more.

Meatlug just getting yelled at by

Meatlug's named just getting yelled at by Snotlout because he was knocked off of her is so funny considering Hookfang is Snotlout's bully and will purposely knock him off

S: *gets knocked off Meatlug* "This is getting old" have I ever mentioned how much I love Snotlout

T: "When did she get her sight back?"

H: "uh, she didn't."

My guy just wants to protect her and is so worried about her. and yet he knows he can't control her. (he can tame a Night Fury but not Astrid)

please even as the twins fall in the water we see my idiot (Snotlout) whose head is still in the water

I love Astrid - she is crazy but she is my girl

her still turning her head to hold the dragon's horn despite not being able to see

S: "Amazing." THE FACT THAT HE SAYS THIS WHILST WATCHING HER - SNOTTY YOU ARE SO RIGHT

T: "Hey, I think Astrid just stole your move." I love Tuffnut sometimes

F: "THIS IS NOT RESPECT."

S: "Welcome to my world, Fishface."

I need more of those three (Hookfang, Fishlegs and Snotlout) for my soul please

I just love Snotlout - his cheeky lil smile - he's just my boy

I love that the first thing she sees is him and the first thing she does is hug him so close that she literally snuggles into his arms (and my baby Toothless warbling in the back - poor toothless was a real one for dealing with their nonsense for five years and not even being there to see them get married)

Hiccup and Astrid asking Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Fishlegs to train the dragon - these are their kids I AM TELLING YOU

T: (After using the clicker to train the dragon) "Man, this is awesome. Can you imagine what we could do to Snotlout once we get this thing trained." DRAGGED I TELL YOU DRAGGED - MY MAIN MAN SNOTTY DON'T DESERVE THIS (yes he does)

Stormfly and Toothless playing as their riders sit together - they are so cute y'all

Them just taking the fact that each other in but speficially Hiccup taking in Astrid despite her being the one that was blind

H: "You sure you feeling okay?"

A: "I'm fine Hiccup. You can stop worrying about me now."

H: "oh, I never stop worrying about you. That's just the way it is."

(Side Note: during this scene Hiccup kept moving his shoulders in her direction, which if you didn't know body positioning is a huge subconscious of love)(I just love their love bro)

Not Astrid saying that she worries about him too - they are just so cute my god

Not her punching him - it's her love language fr

OHMYGOD she is asking him about the almost kiss - I'm so normal about them

H: "I just thought maybe I got away with it." HONEY, IT'S ASTRID

H: "oh...Oh." Y'ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND THE WAY MY EYES LIT UP. HE DID THE THING. HE. DID. THE. THING.

H: "It wasn't perfect." SIR. SHUT UP. PLEASE.( but in a way love isn't perfect so in a way they learn that too (I guess)

H: "And I always thought that if it ever happened." YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT HAPPENING-

H: "And yes, I thought about it a lot." My mouth just DROPPED.

The fact that Hiccup just casually admitted

THE FACT THAT IT'S PERFECT - WITH THE SUNSET AND THE BIRDS - AS THEY KISS

She leans into him - his arm wrapped around her and hers around him I CAN'T its so cute

I need this score to be my soul - and to rewatch this scene a thousand times

The fact that he is so nervous and she is so flustered - ohmygod I'm giggling and blushing

They just make me so happy. This reaction was MUCH anticipated so I hope you like it

[setting-ink]

Promises

Written for Day 3 of @sketchbookweek 2024.

AO3 Link

“I don’t know. It’s not a genre I usually read, is all.”

“You’ll like it. Promise. Money-back guarantee.”

“Oh, well how can I say no to such a generous offer.”

---

“Hilda and her friends don’t cause too much trouble here, do they?”

“Well. Not recently anyway.”

“Oh dear. Do tell me if that changes?”

“Of course. You’ll be the first to know.”

---

“I don’t suppose you’d want to meet up and chat outside the library, sometime?”

“Hm. You know, I think I can find the time in my busy schedule.”

“Sounds like a plan then!”

---

“You’re sure you’re fine to watch her for the night?”

“Promise, Jo.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

---

“So how much does your mother know about, well. Magic and all that?”

“She knows Frida’s a witch, and that’s never been a problem. She’d be fine with it, promise.”

---

“And this isn’t too much? I don’t want to overwhelm you, is all.”

“Kaisa, I once had to save my daughter from a spider-frog using nothing but a circular saw. You being a witch isn’t going to scare me off.”

“...Thank you. But you’re going to have to tell me the rest of that story one day.”

“Oh goodness, if I must.”

---

“Promise me you two will stay out of trouble?”

“We’ll be fine, Johanna. What’s the worst that could happen?”

---

“Maybe we don’t tell your mother about this?”

“Agreed. Mum would go mental.”

---

“Are you all right, Kaisa? You’ve hardly touched your drink.’’

“Hm? Oh, yes, I…”

“Something on your mind?”

“...You look lovely tonight, you know that? …Oh gosh, are you all right?”

“Yes. Yes! Drink went down wrong is all. Sorry. You... you really think so?”

“I…” 

“Kaisa?”

“I think I need to go.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Witch business.”

“Wait! Are… are we still good for next week?”

“Mm.”

---

“And what do I do? I choke on my own drink, like a fool.”

“Johanna…”

“Honestly, I don’t blame her for leaving after that.”

“Johanna. You did nothing wrong. Frankly, it sounds more like she was embarrassed.”

“...You really think so?”

“I promise. Just talk to her.”

---

“Now you have to promise me you won’t shut that poor woman out just because she could hurt you.”

“...Fine, Tildy. I’ll talk with her.”

---

“Look, I’m sorry if I made things… awkward, last time.”

“No no, not at all! Promise. I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

“I… wanted to tell you something too.”

---

“Alright, darling. I’ll be back in two days, promise.”

“And I’ll take great care of Hilda until you’re back.”

“I know you will.”

---

“So… there’s no need to worry Mum by telling her about this, right?”

“Oh no, we’re not doing that anymore. The last thing I want to do is lose Johanna’s trust by lying to her. We’re going to have to tell her.”

“You’re not worried about how she’ll react?”

“Hilda, I’m terrified, but I’d rather lose her by being honest than by lying.”

“Mum’s not going to break up with you over this. She likes you too much for that.”

“...Really?”

“Promise.”

---

“I’m not mad.”

“Really?”

“You and Hilda are both okay?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well, that’s what matters most.”

---

“Be patient with her, that’s all I ask.”

“I promise, Ms. Pilqvist.”

“Oh, please dear, call me Tildy.”

---

“It’s getting late, I should really be getting back.”

“...You could stay, you know.”

“...I think I’d like that.”

---

“I don’t suppose you could grab milk on the way home?”

“Of course.”

---

“So you’re the witch my niece has told me so much about.”

“Ah, yes, Miss..?”

“Just Astrid, thank you. And relax. Most of the stories you’ve heard about Fairies are just that, stories.”

“Forgive me. I’m a bit nervous is all.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep treating Johanna kindly and you’ll be fine.”

“That I can do."

---

“No no, sit back down. I’m making dinner tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well thank you Kaisa. I’m sure it will be lovely.”

---

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Promise me you’ll let me handle the cooking going forward.”

“...That might be for the best.”

---

“And you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Mum, if she makes you happy, I don’t think you can tell her soon enough.”

“When did you get so wise? Promise me you’ll grow up slower. It’s happening too fast.”

“Hm. I wonder if there’s a spell for that…”

“Kidding! Please no time magic. Not after what Tildy’s told me.”

---

“I love you.”

“...I love you too.”

---

“And you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“I promise, Kaisa. And even if she says no-”

“She’s going to. I just know it, I shouldn’t-”

“ If . If she says no, then it won’t change anything. She’ll still love you, and she’ll know how much you love her.”

“...And that’s what matters most.”

“That’s the spirit.”

---

“There’s really nothing I can get you for our anniversary?”

“I’ve told you, Kaisa. It’s enough that we’ll be spending it together. But you’re sweet for trying.”

“I see. Hopefully you won’t mind if I don’t return your gift then.”

“Well hang on a moment, let’s not be too hasty.”

---

“Will you-”

“Yes!”

“Y-you will?”

“Yes, Kaisa! Absolutely.”

---

“I do.”

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Price

Chapter 23 - The Tip Of The Iceberg

Summary: Set during RttE, based on the episode "Gold Rush." The entire point was for Hiccup to get Berk's Gold back. Well, he's far from his goal now.

Warnings: Pregnancy

Rating: Explicit

Dead Dove: Yes

Words: 1 005

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Hookfang, Snotlout, Barf & Belch, Meatlug, Stormfly

Whumpee: Hiccup

Whumper: Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Rycup, Vigcup, Hiccstrid

Author’s Notes: Almost forgot to post this today. 😐 In my defense, today has been very busy.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

That was it. Just that one evening and afterwards he didn’t feel sick again. But even then, Stoick stayed by his side the entire night just to make sure. Not to difficult as both him and Gobber have set up camp at the clubhouse for the time being, which is the building nearest to Hiccup’s hut. Well, the nearest besides Astrid’s hut.

Meanwhile, Dagur has taken up residence in Snotlout’s and his sister stays with her. Their stay since joining the Dragon Riders has been long enough that there would be no point in sleeping in tents, yet likely not long enough to build them homes of their own. There was no way for them to know how long it would take for them to find Hiccup, though ten weeks certainly wasn’t ideal. They refused to take up residence in his hut, figuring he would need his space and they were right.

Hiccup didn’t do well with overbearing people before Viggo, he’s certainly not going to handle them well now and these are uncertain times.

However, when morning comes, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t look like he has been sick. He’s still pale, there’s a trembling to him and he feels cold. But all of that lasts until the morning passed. His appetite, on the other hand, hasn’t come back at all and now he can no longer stand the smell of food. It’s a trigger, the spicier, the worse the trigger.

The Dragon Riders decide he needs a little pick-me-up and what better way to cheer his mood than dragons?

Viggo may have accomplished a lot, they doubt he managed to even scratch his love for dragons.

He still isn’t flying, Toothless has been walking around without his saddle or even his tailfin as he follows Hiccup everywhere he goes. In the rare event that they do see them, that is. And no one can quite tell if the Night Fury has tried and failed or if he’s waiting for the right moment to return him to the sky. But what Toothless can do, is to drag him out of bed, out of his hut and towards the stables. There, the other dragons seem to take over. The second he catches sight of them and they of him, Hiccup works without thinking.

“Hey guys,” he smiles and he embraces each of the dragons, who leave their human partners to surround him. If the humans got to see so little of him, they got see almost nothing of him.

Hookfang scolds him for exactly that, blowing smoke at him while Barf’s head is in his arms and Belch rubs his cheek up and down his back.

Hiccup coughs. “I know, I know, Hookfang. I’ve been really unfair to you guys.”

He says it so softly, with such a loving smile that it almost makes the him they’ve been seeing for the past two weeks and a half vanish from their minds entirely. Astrid elbows Snotlout and points with her thumb out of the stables, figuring they could give them a moment to reunite properly. As she walks out, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Heather, Dagur, and Snotlout follow.

At the entrance, hand on a post, Snotlout lingers for a moment to look back. Hookfang has somehow wormed his snout back into Hiccup’s arms and he purrs. Meatlug and Stormfly impatiently wait for their turn while Toothless sits on the sidelines completely.

“I’ll make it up to you guys, I promise,” his best human friend tells his best dragon friend, who makes a noise that tells them both that he’s going to hold him to that.

Snotlout is just about to move on, smiling, when he hears something troubling.

“Hey, uh, not to make things awkward, but… You- you guys still like me, right?” Hiccup asks, Hookfang’s chin in his hands. The Nightmare looks up to him, confusion only he and the other Riders can read visible on his features.

He blows more smoke, whatever could he mean?

“Dragons, they… They don’t like me anymore,” Hiccup tries to laugh it off. He shrugs and tries to laugh, but his discomfort is painfully obvious and Snotlout can’t help but stare. What the Hel does he mean?

“An-and I’m worried that, uh, that the other Dragon Riders know more than they’re- than- than they’re letting on. But, you guys know and that- and that didn’t change the way you guys see me, right? You know everything. About them, about me, and… you know.” From his angle, with Hiccup surrounded by the dragons as they listen in closely, he can’t see him place a hand on his belly.

Snotlout certainly tries to get a closer look, eyes squinting, trying not to get noticed as he leans in closer.

Stormfly chirps, confirming that they do know something. Human scents change when something inside of them does, same as dragons.

But Hiccup continues despite her answer.

“An-an-anyway, you still know me, you know that I would never ever hurt any of you. Right?” He won’t be getting any verbal responses spoken in the human tongue, not even from Snotlout. Though he is just about to stop inside, when Meatlug nuzzles Hiccup with her big sweet head and he hugs her. Stormfly places her head on his back, cooing, and Hookfang’s chin on his head. Leaving Barf and Belch to struggle to find a part of him to cuddle, too, and Toothless to sits out of the circle, just happy to watch.

They stay like this and this moment lasts, it’s doing Hiccup some good to be surrounded by all of the first dragons he ever bonded with and feel their love, even though they can smell the things that have happened to him. He’s still theirs and the Grimborns rubbing their scent all over him and putting their baby in him hasn’t changed that.

But something inside of Snotlout changes as he walks over to the other Riders and realizes that they haven’t even begun to scrape the tip of this iceberg.

[usagirln12003]

Hiccup Haddock: Hogwarts AU

Hiccup Haddock is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 1st of March 1975 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1986, being sorted into Ravenclaw house.

He has a Willow wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus is a Norwegian Ridgeback.

His favorite subject is Care of Magical Creatures and his least favorite is Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He was one of the Ravenclaw Prefects of his year, Ravenclaw's Seeker and eventually the Head-Boy of his year.

Despite his physical shortcomings, Hiccup does his best to succeed as a wizard. He is intelligent and is constantly creating inventions for various uses throughout his Hogwarts years, including a bola launcher, a dragon's prosthetic tail and saddle, and a riding vest. However, he is much stronger than he appears.

At first, Hiccup is obsessed with proving himself to the rest of his family by learning as much magic as possible. He often doesn't think things through and is more determined to gain the recognition of his peers than he is heedful of others' orders, often causing problems for everyone in Ravenclaw, including himself. Despite this, Hiccup shows great aptitude at being a strategist: he leads his classmates into battle, knowing how to use his friends' strengths in the battle against the Red Death. Hiccup also has very good observational skills that come in handy during his time with Toothless and during Care of Magical Creatures classes. For example, he's able to hypothesize that dragons have a natural disdain for eels when his own dragon companion is repulsed by the sight of one and uses this to successfully drive back another Norwegian Ridgeback later.

He is very protective of Astrid and during his first year, he has a crush on her. Their feelings mature as they grew up and as his story progressed. Among the other teenage witches and wizards, Hiccup first comes off as awkward, mainly because he's a poor dueller, and rather scrawny for someone in his family, prompting mockery from his peers. As he becomes more adept at duelling, however, they start paying more attention to him, and friendships start developing. Despite this, Hiccup remains shy and secretive, preferring to be alone with Toothless. He also tends to be sarcastic with a dry sense of humor that can sometimes put him at odds with the other members of Ravenclaw house. It also seems that Hiccup likes to hide his fear with said sarcasm and dry humor. Due to his shyness, he had a habit of stuttering and stammering when talking to some of the other Hogwarts students, especially Astrid, or when his father is angry at him.

Despite his many virtues and his clear capabilities as a leader, Hiccup is not without his flaws. He is rather prone to letting his insecurities cloud his judgment and affect his actions; during his first years at Hogwarts, his desperation for the acceptance of his family, and his father in particular, cause him to regularly attempt to challenge his cousin to duels, only to end up doing more harm than good due to his clumsiness. In his fifth year, his mistaken belief that Stoick still does not accept him causes him to lead his friends on a potentially dangerous treasure hunt to prove himself. His innate friendliness and tendency to give others the benefit of the doubt cause him to be a little too trusting of strangers, leaving him vulnerable to manipulation and deceit by more dishonest characters, such as Heather and Mildew, on more than one occasion.

At one point, Hiccup shows a more unlikable, hypercompetitive side to his personality as he begins to score victories over Snotlout. Since Hiccup is unaccustomed to winning anything, he handles it poorly, letting the glory go to his head to the point where he briefly becomes as arrogant and unpleasant as Snotlout. Hiccup is also prone to overconfidence in his ability as a Prefect and Headboy, which becomes a major catalyst in his final year; his total belief that he would be able to reason with Drago causes him to run away from Hogwarts to confront the dark wizard, causing Stoick and Valka, who both witnessed firsthand the true extent of Drago's psychopathy and knew he could not be reasoned with, to chase after him. This indirectly but ultimately leads to Stoick's death at the hands of Drago when he puts Toothless under the Imperius Curse to demonstrate the superiority of his philosophy over Hiccup's. In spite of all his flaws, Hiccup is never above admitting when he is wrong and will do his best to make amends with others, showing he has a great deal of humility, and learning from his mistakes.

One extremely notable character trait Hiccup possesses is a deep sense of compassion. As a child, he is seen empathizing with his father over the loss of his mother, and even crying at the thought of an injured bird being killed in order to put it out of its misery. He later spares Toothless, and in doing so, changes his families' views on dragons forever. He was extremely uncomfortable with the thought of having to kill a dragon after graduating. Hiccup carries this quality throughout his Hogwarts years. He shows great sympathy to Snotlout at the end of a Quidditch match, giving up his own glory and fame for the sake of his cousin, though Snotlout showed no gratitude at all. He will almost never allow Toothless to use his full power against foes to prevent killing them. At one point, he begs Toothless to spare a Swedish Short-Snout that had nearly killed both of them just moments earlier. The peak of Hiccup's sympathy is displayed in his releasing Mildew from Azkaban. Upon seeing the horrible condition of Azkaban, Hiccup clearly displays pity for the old man. Unfortunately, Hiccup is occasionally naive in his sympathy, as Mildew betrayed him yet again right afterward. Still, his kind heartedness has resulted in many victories and accomplished the training of the deadliest dragons in the world.

The first person Hiccup would have been willing to kill was Alvin, his father's former friend. Originally, Hiccup was more interested in avoiding him, but as Alvin's plots hit closer and closer to everything and everyone Hiccup cares about, Hiccup seems to harden in a difficult resolution. He ordered Toothless to kill Alvin when he was threatening to toss Astrid off of a cliff. In the end of his sixth year, Hiccup and Toothless even charged Alvin in an attempt to kill him after he had captured, threatened, and deeply insulted both of them.

Overall, Hiccup is an intelligent, kind, and likable person who is naturally big-hearted and innocent. After starting to work at the Dragon Reserve where his mother worked, he and Toothless have become "adrenaline junkies", performing tricks like free-falling. He has also gone from being a shy boy to a confident young man, and "the greatest Dragon Master this world has ever seen" (as Astrid describes him to Drago Bludvist). He has a charitable and kind nature which allows him to see the good in everyone. He has especially been shown to care deeply for Toothless, his parents, Stoick and Valka, Astrid, and later their children Zephyr and Nuffink.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E127 (March 2, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are, of course, Ashley Johnson and Marisha Ray!

Marisha, on her thought process behind the date: “It was a fascinating study on designing something with another player in trying to navigating how to do that in a way that makes sense and wouldn’t be too metagamey or overly scripted or anything like that. I had a bunch of ideas thought out, then I just typed it out and sent it over to him, and then he interpreted it as such.” Liam had ideas, but Marisha wanted him to keep the details a surprise. The theme of “let’s start over” was the leading motif for the design. Three acts: pre-game cocktails at the Nestled Nook, picnic in a field of Xhorhasian wildflowers, and then close it with after-dinner drinks and hot tub at the Steam’s Respite. And the very last thing was “and all the cats were dogs”. Brian: “What was his response to that?” Marisha: “He texted me and was like, ‘Are you serious or is this dog thing a joke?’”

Ashley is asked what it was like to know it was coming but not know the specifics. “For both of us, I don’t think we thought it was going to be right then. I think because it’s been so long in the relationship between Beau and Yasha and it felt like such a natural progression for the two of them, and they’re both awkward together. I think there was something to just being thrown into it.” She spent time thinking about what things Yasha would talk to Beau about on a date. “We got to maybe one of them. It was just so fun! Exploring romance in D&D can be super weird, especially when you’re streaming. But it felt like that’s where our characters were going. There was that excitement of trying something that is out of my comfort zone, and I think so much of Marisha was part of that, as being the initiator as Beau, where I was like, okay, this is where it’s going it. Let’s do it, let’s see what happens!” She mentions how “fun and freeing” it is to trust your improv partner in something like this.

Marisha: “I just wanted Beau to be a fuckboi!” But she highlights that it’s hard to deny the deeper connections that come up in D&D scenarios. “They’ve been with each other through so much that it’s difficult to deny when those bonds start to happen.” She texted Liam in a panic before the game. “What do I wear? And he said, ‘In the game or in real life?’ Both!”

Marisha was expecting a Sam curveball at some point. “My/Beau’s reaction of ‘I love you!’ was pretty accurate. She does care! She’s not just  a troll trying to ruin our shit.”

Marisha on Yasha liking dogs: “I clocked that shit when you bought a dog figurine.” She keeps notes about all the members of the party when they reveal things like that.

Ashley has started taking more detailed notes, partly to play catch-up for events she may have missed earlier. “Turns out, notes are very helpful and can help you in your RPing!”

Favorite parts? Marisha: “The fade-to-black moment at the very end, and I think it’s because Ashley’s eyes--maybe this is going to get weird--we had this moment where we were in the hot tub at the end, and I looked over and was like, ‘hey’, and you looked over and were like, ‘hey’, and I was just dead. I will never forget the look on Ashley’s face. There was just a pure moment.” Ashley: “That’s so funny, because I was going to talk about this one moment with Marisha. It’s just clicking into the scene and clicking into the moment.” Marisha talks about how the moments associated with the game have real, tangible emotional connections. Brian highlights that the emotional side of things is what you remember the most after the campaign is done.

Character thoughts on Kima? Marisha: “I was like, step on me! Please! Both of you! We’d be friends.” Ashley: “It’s also that nostalgia that feels so good at the table. These characters we know and love are still living and breathing and happy together and just kicking ass. For Yasha it was an amazing example of a relationship that works in this world, and something beautiful that these people who are different but are connecting. It was a lot of-- it was cool. I think Yasha’s a very big fan of Kima and Allura. When she gave over the sword, Travis texted me and was like, it’s the Holy Avenger. Looking it up and talking about it, it was like, holy mackerel, this sword is insane. But there’s going to have to be some conversations had to attune with the sword. But I like that Matt presented that challenge, that this isn’t necessarily in your class, but let’s do some RP and see what happens.”

Where’s Yasha at with the Stormlord right now? “I’m curious to explore that more, but knowing that the Stormlord was the first person to bring her back to her own will, of pulling her out of whatever was happening with Oban and the Laughing Hand for however long. It’s also weird to see the relationship that the clerics have, and I think Yasha’s still figuring out how to be her own person, but also... not serving somebody, but still trying to figure out that relationship with her god. But again, he saved her from a very, very dark place, and I think that’s something she values and holds on to.”

Cosplay of the Week: An amazing Essek! (Blushingvioletcosplay on Instagram)

How is Beau handling the Eyes? “All the theories! It’s hard for it to not feel like a ticking time bomb. I always have to try and separate my theories from Beau’s theories. That’s acting and shit. I, Marisha, am very interested if I can somehow utilize this to our advantage. Beau, also interested but simultaneously terrified that it might be a bad idea and I might just get further initiated. When it comes to Matt, you know there’s always something more lurking underneath all of this. As players it’s kind of our job to navigate that.”

How about Yasha? “I think it’s one of the things that didn’t really come up in the date, which is funny, because it’s something I was thinking about. Me as a player, that’s something I’m extremely stressed about. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We kind of got into it, but I think the fact that Lucien was listening, and the Eyes, I think it made me as a player as Yasha very nervous about interacting with Beau, because I don’t know what they’re picking up on. There’s so much we don’t know, and Lucien is so confusing, and the Eyes, and with Matt... we don’t know! It’s a point of extreme concern for Yasha, especially someone that she has feelings for and cares about, it’s an extra level of I don’t know what this means and I can’t lose this person, but I need to protect at all costs.”

What was it like for Beau to discover that Dairon and the Soul not only listened but took action? “That moment was so deeply powerful. Honestly, I was just as taken aback as Beau was. I never in both mine or Beau’s thought process did I think Matt would take action in that way, or that would ever be handled. And I think that’s what makes it so emotional. You condition yourself to think these things just happen, so much so that they permeate your D&D game. So rarely do abusers get held accountable for their actions. What was powerful about it was that he was, and other people cared. That alone was so emotionally impactful, and I was completely thrown by it. I feel like I had to walk away from that situation kind of unpacking those things. What does that say, what does that mean? Same thing for Beau, where the cycle of abuse has happened repeatedly to her with no repercussions to anyone who’s causing it. It’s why she’s always had a weird tenuous relationship with the Soul. It throws you into these layers of reconciliation and thought. I didn’t think this was going to be addressed. What does that say about society? So many different layers to peel back. It all speaks to so many real-life experiences that happen every damn day to so many people. There’s not many examples in media of abusers getting handled, and especially not in a way that’s not some sort of device to motivate somebody.” She highlights how rare it is that the abuser was handled without pulling the victim into the mess. I’m definitely not doing what she’s saying justice with my speed-typing.

How is Yasha feeling about solidifying her identity as a protector? “Putting together this character and starting to play as her, there was a part of me that wanted-- when I work on characters, you go through the list of questions you have as an actor, what’s your motivation and all that stuff. But I very much wanted to see if I could have a character that doesn’t necessarily know what their purpose is, because I feel like a lot of people feel that way. I think when we see movies or TV shows, there’s always a character who says, I know what my purpose is. I wanted to explore what it meant to not know what that is. I left that open with Yasha, and I didn’t want to set that for her, because I thought that was an interesting thing. I still like that idea, but in the conversation with Beau and knowing the date was coming up, there were a lot of internal conversations I was having of how is Yasha feeling in this moment. At the end of the day, I feel that’s a very solid purpose for Yasha in this moment, of all I can really provide is protection - and of course she can provide more than that. But now I’m just, yeah, I think protection for her is the best way she knows how to describe her purpose.” Brian: “And once we arrive there, the goal is to find a greater purpose, to be of service.” Ashley has tied in Yasha’s protectiveness with her grappling with loss.

Fan art of the week: A second amazing Essek! (by Saturday_sky)

Thoughts on the amulets: set-up or bad luck? Ashley: “I thought they were a set-up!” Marisha: “I think [Astrid’s] an opportunist. But I think it’d be much more convenient if anyone other than her killed Trent. To what end, I don’t know.” Ashley: “Me, personally, how I interpreted her crying in that alleyway, I felt like she was crying because of a betrayal. But I don’t know! I think she definitely cares for Caleb.” Marisha: “I also got betrayal tears. That felt like guilt-crying to me.” Brian: “I don’t like any of this.”

What prompted Beau going full assassin? “If they were to get in and out and I could have jumped over that tower without killing that guy, I would have.” She didn’t have a lot of options as a monk and not a rogue assassin, but needed a quick and quiet way to get him out of the way. “I went through so many ideas in my head. I thought of an idea to dump all of the ball bearings under him, then light fireworks” to try to get him to fall off the edge.

Is Yasha’s hope for Molly still alive? “Yes. I think that because Yasha has been on the other end of doing terrible things under someone else’s influence, she has a lot of forgiveness for people. At this point, of course, it’s hope that he’ll come back or have some type of recognition of his life as Molly. There’s a lot of questions. I don’t think she’ll ever give up on him.” The only moment of hesitation was when Lucien was cool with Gelidon leaving with Beau.

How are they feeling about their odds? Ashley: “I feel really great about the ideas that the group has to get out of tricky situations. This one I’m nervous about.” Marisha: “I agree. We have our little side player thread, minus Matt, and I don’t see how we’re getting out of this without some sort of compromise that’s not necessarily in our favor. I think we’re going to get out of it, but I don’t think we’re going to get out of it completely.”

Ashley didn’t tell Brian about the date after the episode ended, but wound up blurting it out right before he was about to watch the episode for Talks.

[shipmistress9]

8 -hiccstrid 😊💜

HICCSTRID

8. Interrupting with a kiss

This is actually a story idea I was pondering over for a good while now. But it fits this prompt, so I had a great excuse to finally write it down. ^^

Fateful Heights

Speak of the devil and he shall appear…

Hiccup couldn’t help but marvel about this saying as he threw a cautious glance down into the gaping abyss below his dangling feet. Or, well, the rest of the funfair, but it certainly felt like a gaping abyss…

Earlier, when they'd waited in line to get onto the Drop Tower, they’d all joked about how scary it would be to get stuck at the top. Then, when Snot, Legs, and the twins were getting onto the first ride while he and Astrid had to wait for the next round, he’d joked about how it would actually be funny to watch them get stuck and get sick now. It had been mainly to interrupt the awkward silence between him and Astrid, the girl he’d had a crush on since forever. But she’d laughed and agreed that it would be hilarious to watch.

Now, however? Now, it was him and Astrid being stuck on this stupid tower. For ten minutes now, the thing hadn’t moved even one inch. Every now and then, the operator called up instructions or reassurances over a megaphone, but in all honestly, that didn’t help the feeling of dread in his guts one bit.

It wasn’t even the height per se that bothered him. He absolutely loved heights. Snot had even jokingly commented before that Hiccup got high on heights, and, well… he wasn’t so far off. Of all the rides they’d planned to go on today, this one was the one he’d been looking forward to the most.

No, it wasn’t the height that made him feel queasy. It was the sense of helplessness. To be out of control and at the mercy of someone else, something else.

The wind, usually a highly welcome sensation when blowing around his face, now made him clutch so tightly at the handle that his knuckles stood out white. One person a few seats to his right had dropped their shoe, and it had taken a disturbingly long time to reach the ground.

And it was no exaggeration when he thought that the only thing keeping him sane was Astrid sitting next to him.

“Hey, look over there,” she now said, her hand awkwardly pointing to a spot on the horizon. “There’s a ship coming in. I bet the people on the ground can’t see it yet, not even those right at the harbour.”

His eyes followed her finger and his quick mind did the calculation without him even having to think about it. “That’s a bet you would win,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible, to not show how scared he truly was. “My guess would be, that it’ll still be up to three hours before that ship is visible from the pier.”

Next to him, Astrid shifted in her seat and somehow managed to peer past the safety harness to throw him a bemused look. “You’re such a nerd,” she eventually chuckled.

Hiccup blushed, but wasn’t too bothered by her comment. He was a nerd; no point in pretending otherwise. And as long as she said it like this—with the undertone of teasing affection instead of as an insult—she could call him whatever she wanted, anyway.

A few minutes passed in relative silence. Around them, people were chatting, crying, one even screaming, but Hiccup did his best to blend them all out. Instead, he focused on Astrid who was humming to herself. It was a little off-tune but somehow still the most relaxing noise he’d ever heard.

“Hey, look!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I found the other’s.”

Hiccup glanced down in the direction she indicated.

“Over there, between that building with the red roof and the yellow-and-blue-striped tent.”

“Ah, yes, I see them.” Hiccup thought for a moment, the map of the funfair before his mental eye. “They probably got themselves an early dinner. The building is the pizzeria, I think.”

“Huh...” Astrid grunted, and even though he couldn’t see her face, he could imagine how she would narrow her eyes right now. “Yeah, you’re right. We’re locked up here, possibly about to fall to our death, and these idiots are eating!”

“At least, they didn’t get popcorn,” Hiccup muttered. He liked his friends, but at least Tuff wasn’t beyond finding their situation entertaining. Snot probably too.

Astrid snorted. “They know better than to risk that. I’d haunt them for the rest of eternity. Hey, do you think I can spit onto their pizza if I aim well enough?”

Again, Hiccup’s mind did some quick calculation out of reflex before he shook his head. “I’d say you can’t,” he said regretfully. “Not to insult your aim, but from this height and with the wind, it would be all but impossible to predict where your spit lands, if it reaches the ground at all. And as much as I’d pay to see Snot’s face when you ruin his pizza like that, I wouldn’t wish the same fate on anyone else.”

Astrid sighed. “Fair enough. But if he gives me the slightest reason, I will hit him.

“I won’t stop you,” Hiccup chuckled. He was unable to fully put his feelings into words, not even inside his head. But he knew that without Astrid, he would have gone insane. How she managed to be so lighthearted in their current situation was beyond him, but her jokes and generally good mood were all that kept his own despair at bay.

Their rescue didn’t take too long after that. Maybe it had just been an error in the software, but from one moment to the other, they were moving again. Initially, there was even more screaming, some surely fearing they were all going to crash to their death now. But their decent was slow, gentle, and only a few minutes later, they were all back on solid ground.

On shaky legs, he and Astrid were ushered to the side, to a hastily erected tent where medics were waiting for them to make sure everyone was physically unharmed. Mentally might be another question, though.

Once he and Astrid were allowed to leave, Hiccup let out a deep breath. “Oh, what a trip. I always loved these Drop Towers, but now, I’m not sure I’ll ever want to—”

He broke off when Astrid suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t a gentle one, teeth digging into his lips from how hard she pressed herself against him.

Hiccup was stunned, unable to react other than let his hands land on her waist. Of all the things he’d expected from this day, Astrid kissing him had been even further down the list than getting stuck on a ride. But here she was, clinging to him, and he even thought he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it had started. Hiccup was still trying to comprehend when she released his mouth and instead buried her face against his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Oh, Gods,” she gasped, voice nearly breaking. “I thought we would surely die here.” She was shaking he now noticed, and so he wrapped his arms more firmly around her, holding her in a comforting embrace. Did this still count as comforting, though? It was meant to be comforting, at least.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he tried to soothe her. “We made it. Nothing happened, we got off with no more than a fright.”

Astrid’s grasp grew even tighter. “How did you do it?” she gasped. “How did you manage to keep so calm up there? I was so scared that my brain stopped working completely. I think I was babbling the entire time but can’t remember a thing I said. But you? You even did math up there. I…” She trailed off, took a deep breath, and calmed down at least a little again. “Without you staying so calm, I would have gone insane.

Hiccup, still caught in how surreal this situation was, awkwardly patted her back. “Honestly, I was just as scared. Only coped because of all the jokes you made.”

Laughing a little shakily, she eventually pulled back. “Looks like we both helped each other then.”

She turned and made a step toward the exit, but Hiccup couldn’t let her go now. Not with like this, with this one moment hanging between them. “Astri?” he called her back, picking up all his courage as she glanced back at him. “Why did you kiss me?”

She blushed and, ducking her head, swiped a strand of loose hair out of her face before she answered. “You… didn’t miss that, huh? Of course, you didn’t.” She let out a weak chuckle. “It’s… I—I wanted to ask you for a long time and promised myself that, should we get off that tower alive, I’d do it. But I guess my mind skipped a few steps there. I-I’m sorry, we can pretend it never happened if you—”

She didn’t get the chance to say any more. Hiccup bridged the distance between them with one step, cupped her face with both hands, and pressed his lips to her mouth. This kiss wasn’t as harsh as the other had been, soft and gentle. Astrid didn’t need long to catch up, her lips twitching into a grin before she kissed him back. It was a chaste kiss, sweet with only lips. But as her arms slid around his waist, Hiccup felt as if this had to be the best kiss of his life so far.

When they parted, Hiccup let his forehead rest against hers, unwilling to part just yet. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen,” he murmured. “I’m glad it did.”

Astrid nodded, then pulled away and threw him a warm smile. “Okay. So… should we go back to the others now? But I warn you, I stand by what I said. Or at least I think I said something like this. If your cousin makes even one stupid comment, I’ll hit him.”

Chuckling, Hiccup reached for her hand, inwardly rejoicing when her fingers closed around his without hesitation. “Again, I won’t stop you.”

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 17

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

“I’m in love with you.”

Fresh raindrops were hitting the windscreen in an increasing rhythm, the backdrop to her thoughts.

“I’m in love with you.”

She turned on the wipers.

“But I can’t be your friend anymore.”

His voice was haunting her, words replaying in her ears over and over, accompanied by an electric jolt stopping her heart for a beat every single time. She almost anticipated a flash of lightning on the horizon, a crack of thunder rolling through her chest.

The drive back to Berk had never felt this long, the allowed driving speed never this slow. Eyes on the road, she fumbled for her phone, managing to connect it to the car one-handed. There was a call that absolutely could not wait.

It rang a few times, then cut off. Did she have no reception here? Didn’t he? Did he decline her call? Nervously tapping her steering wheel, Astrid flung the phone onto the passenger seat. She would try again if she got stuck at a traffic light. But traffic flowed freely and not much later, she parked in the same spot as mere hours before. She couldn’t believe so little time had passed since she had gotten ready for her lunch not-date (that had totally been an unofficial date).

Dashing through the rain, she quickly made it to the front door and rang the doorbell. But after fifteen minutes of repeatedly pressing the button, she concluded that he either wasn’t home or really did not want to open the door. She tried his phone again, but it just kept ringing and ringing. Which was weird, because he had specifically asked her to call him back, hadn’t he? Why would he not answer her calls now? Had he changed his mind, was he mad that she’d just left like that?

She racked her brain for where he could be, but the weather wasn’t leaving her a lot of options. He couldn’t be at work because it was a Sunday. She didn’t know where any of his friends lived. Hell, she only knew two names, maybe three if she counted the ex-girlfriend. Perhaps he’d gone to the forest again, despite the weather?

But his car was still parked to the side. Was he home after all? She tried the doorbell again, then rang for his neighbor. They could let her in so she could pound at his door, just in case his bell wasn’t working.

“Hello?” came a grumpy voice out of the speaker.

“Ah, yes, hi. I’m trying to get a hold of your neighbor, but he’s not opening. Could you let me in, please?”

“No.”

Briefly taken aback, she blinked a couple times. “I really need to–”

“I don’t know you. If they’re not opening, I won’t either. Good day.” The speaker crackled and went silent.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” she mumbled. “You got great neighbors, man.”

He still wasn’t answering her calls. At this point, she didn’t know whether to be annoyed or worried. Texting him a quick ‘where are you????’, she returned to her car and deliberated her next step. One option was to just wait here for him to get back. Call him over and over again until she got a reaction.

“Ugh!” With a frustrated groan, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. There was a way for her to reach someone who knew him, but even if she was successful, it would be a mighty awkward phone call and she would have to swallow a bit of pride.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Dammit!” She hit her steering wheel, accidentally setting off the horn. Hopefully, it had made Hiccup’s neighbor jump.

The next call went unanswered as well, but that only boosted her determination. There was no stopping her, not so close to her happy ending. She wanted to hear his voice, wanted to look into his wonderful eyes and scream at the top of her lungs, let out all her suppressed feelings that she’d been harboring for him ever since the moment his presence had first struck her like lightning. Three words, one breath. The clear answer he needed to hear from her, the one she needed to speak out loud.

She found Dagur’s contact in her list and sent him a short text, hoping he would help her out first and ask annoying questions later. And lo and behold, twelve minutes later, she had Heather Oswald’s number.

She picked up after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Hi. This is Astrid Hofferson, um... We’ve met a couple times, I’m–”

“Yeah,” Heather interrupted her in a tone Astrid couldn’t decipher, “I know who you are.”

“Oh, okay. Great. Uh, I’m looking for Hiccup, actually, and he’s not home or answering his phone. You’re the only person I could get a hold of who might know where he is or…”

“I have no idea.”

“Ah, well then, do you have an idea where I could look?”

The line went silent for a moment. “Without a clue about what’s going on, it’s hard to narrow it down.”

“Oh. Well, maybe–”

“Look, Astrid?” Heather interrupted her. “I know it’s not my place to say. But Hiccup is one of my best friends and he’s been pretty depressed because of you for the past two years. He… cares about you a lot.” Astrid tried to get a word in, but Heather didn’t let herself be interrupted. “I know you two are friends, but you’re not doing him any favors as long as you’re not honest with him.

“Heather, I-”

“Whatever it is you want from him, please tell him so he can stop driving himself crazy.”

“Yes, I know, that’s why I’m looking for him!”

“You are? Good. You might not be aware of it, but you have the power to absolutely break him. I’d rather you didn’t.”

Astrid gulped. “Yeah, believe it or not, he actually has the same power over me. Why do you think I’m calling his ex-girlfriend for help?”

Heather chuckled. “I haven’t heard from him this weekend, but I can think of a few others who might have. I can give you their numbers.”

“Thank you, seriously!”

“I’m doing it for him. Good luck.”

The line went dead and Astrid let out the tension in her shoulders with a sigh of relief. She didn’t have a new lead, but she had gained new options. And she’d just gotten the dad talk from her ex’s best friend’s sister.

Her phone buzzed with a few messages from an unsaved number, sending her a few contacts. She assumed the two people with Hiccup’s last name were his parents and decided to make them her last resort since there was no need to worry them about their son being uncharacteristically unavailable. Besides, they didn’t even know her.

Discovering she actually knew the other people Heather had referred her to, she decided to call Fishlegs first, hoping for not another lecture on how to treat one of his best friends. The one had been uncomfortable enough. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Hiccup, even unintentionally. He was way too important to her, had taken root inside her heart the moment he’d first smiled at her.

She still remembered how he’d been able to make her forget about the sea of people around her in a matter of seconds, joking around about something trivial, grasping her full attention so easily she’d even blinded out her own fiancé, who’d been right there next to her. Looking back, she could only shake her head at her own stubbornness in admitting her immediate attraction and the connection that had been there from the moment their eyes had met. Her skin tingled at the memory of that bolt of lightning striking her to the core…

With a wince, she pulled herself from her daydream, concentrating on the task at hand and making the next call. Fishlegs picked up almost immediately, voice a little wary of the unknown number calling him on a Sunday evening. The horizon was darkening gradually, the last rays of sunlight drowning in the incoming wave of night, the streetlamps outside flickering on one after the other.

Fishlegs didn’t know where Hiccup was. “Maybe his phone is dead? He sometimes forgets to charge it before it’s too late.”

“Nope, it’s ringing. The signal’s getting through. Which means that’s not it.” She didn’t want to waste her time theorizing about why he wasn’t picking up. She wanted to find him, then she could ask him and punch him for leaving her hanging like this. “But do you know where he could have gone on a Sunday night while it’s raining?”

“Hm. You say his car is home?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Snotlout lives nearby, that’s an old friend of his–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know him.” Tucking her phone between her jaw and shoulder, she started her car. “Where does he live?”

Fishlegs gave her the directions and offered to stay on the phone so she could keep him updated, but she quickly thanked him and hung up before pulling out of her parking spot. This was the worst scavenger hunt ever. At least she could cross calling Snotlout off her list.

Severely hoping to either catch Hiccup this time or at least get a solid lead, she pushed the doorbell ten seconds long and then hit it repeatedly in a short span of time until she heard the static of the receiver.

“Whoever the fuck you are, fuck you. Hiccup, is that you? I want my jacket.” Well, so much for finding Hiccup here.

“No, it’s Astrid, we met once, I think you tried to flirt with me.”

“Wait, the Astrid? Hot Astrid? Hot-strid?”

“Call me that again and you’ll find out how hot my fist is!”

“Okay, okay.” She noted with satisfaction how he was trying to cover up that he was intimidated. “What are you doing here? Came here to get a taste of the Snotman?”

Deciding to ignore his immediate new attempt at flirting (she would handle that another time, for sure), she just rolled her eyes. “Have you seen Hiccup?”

Expecting the same answer she got from everyone else, she was surprised when he said, “Yep. He was here.”

“When?” She jumped on the information, leaning closer to the receiver.

“I don’t know, some time in the past couple hours? I was busy, I don’t check the clock on a Sunday.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Out.” Oh, she wanted to break the door in and slap him.

“But where, Snotlout?!” A dog started barking very closely to the intercom, making Astrid flinch away.

“Shut up, Hookfang! I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. Sit, you dumb dog! He just came by for a jacket, he was kinda drenched. Pretty stupid, actually, because he had an umbrella and it wasn’t even raining when I looked outside.”

She bit her lip and frowned. So he was out somewhere, probably still in the rain. Great, so she just had to drive through town and search all the streets of Berk until she found him. At least she had some kind of solid plan now.

“Thanks, Snotlout.”

His answer was drowned out by the barking dog, then the intercom fell silent with a crackling static, but she was already sprinting back to her car. She tried calling Hiccup again, but then gave up with a groan; she wouldn’t reach him. He hadn’t read her text yet, either. So what now, call his parents if he had walked there? She didn’t even know if they lived in Berk.

Reaching for her phone again, she replayed his message. The butterflies tumbled through her stomach again when he said the five words she would never grow tired of hearing. There was the sound of traffic and rain in the background, but that didn’t help a lot, so she replayed it again. And there it was, another lead – he said he’d been at her parents’ place, looking for her. Of course! Maybe he’d mentioned more to whoever had answered the door.

She sped through town, parking right in front of the front door, something her father hated. But right now, she couldn’t care less. Fumbling with the keys for a minute, she pushed the door open and yelled into the house.

“Mom! Dad! Anyone?!”

Her father stuck his head through the door to the living room, glass of wine in hand, wearing his comfy couch pants. “Hello, daughter. We were wondering if you were still showing up for dinner.”

“Sorry, I forgot to cancel, I had something important to do.” She trudged down the hallway to the living room, leaving dirty footprints on the floor.

“Astrid, your shoes!” her father chided her, but she ignored it.

“Was Hiccup here?”

“Who?”

Her mother turned around on the couch. “Yes, your boyfriend was here. He was looking for you.”

Astrid scooched by her dad who almost spilled his wine. “When? What did he say?”

Wilma clucked her tongue in disapproval, shaking her head at her daughter’s wet shoes, two steps from the new carpet.

“Mom.”

Frederick put a hand on her shoulder, holding his glass out of her reach. “Why don’t you take your shoes off and join us? This crime thriller is very entertaining and there’s more wine in the fridge–”

“Mom!”

“Like I said, he was looking for you. I don’t remember when, but it was still light outside. He didn’t say what he wanted, though, and left as soon as I said you weren’t here.”

“Who?” Frederick repeated, confusion written clearly on his face. “The young man you spoke to earlier? What was that about a boyfriend?”

Astrid didn’t have time for explanations to be exchanged. “Which direction did he leave in? This is very, very important, mom!”

“What’s going on, dear? Why don’t you–”

Astrid rolled her eyes with an impatient growl, contemplating threatening to wipe her feet on the carpet if her mother didn’t just come across with the information, but figured that would only spark an entirely different discussion. “Mom, I swear – please just tell me, please!” The desperation had to be showing in her eyes because her mother gave in with a sigh.

“Down the street to Marram Lane, he was on foot so my guess is he was heading for the bus.”

That didn’t make her chase any less frustrating, but it was better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“No–”

“Okay, thanks, bye!” She dashed past her dad who took a surprised step back. Before the front door closed behind her, she could hear him complain about his spilled wine on the new carpet.

Jumping into her car, she deliberated showing Hiccup’s profile picture to every bus driver she could catch, until one of them remembered him and where he got off the bus. But chances were he’d taken the route home and was already back there while she was looking for bread crumbs all over Berk. So she decided on one last attempt. If he didn’t open his door now, she would go home and probably not sleep all night.

If it hadn’t been for the red light near the park, she would have missed it. Tapping her finger against the steering wheel, she absentmindedly glanced outside while waiting for green.

It was the jacket that caught her eye. Chipped print of faded red flames climbing up the dark sleeves, wide and short on a body too tall and lean for the cut. It was him.

The umbrella shaded him from the light of the streetlamps, but she immediately made out the wild auburn hair, the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, eyes cast down. He was heading for the park, on a shortcut to his house that she couldn’t take with her car.

A honk from behind her alerted her to the green light and she stepped on it, crossing the intersection and pulling over onto the sidewalk as soon as she got the chance to.

She ran, only just bothering to lock her car. The rain was coming down in buckets and she splashed her entire right leg when she stepped in an overly large puddle, but that wouldn’t slow her down.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Hiccup! Wait!”

He had almost disappeared behind the next corner and a few trees when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “Astrid?”

Panting, she came to a stop. “Finally. I looked- I looked everywhere for you.”

“Oh- oh yeah. I’m so sorry.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her the screen. There was a large crack right down the middle and her unsuccessful calls finally made sense. He hadn’t been suddenly ghosting her, after all. “Did… Um, did you get my…”

“I got your message.” Her instincts told her to just grab him and haul him in for a kiss like she’d wanted to for so long, but he’d asked her to talk and she wouldn’t make any rash moves; there was just too much on the line.

For a beat, he looked at her nervously, before he noticed the water running down her face, darkening her hair and clothes. He stepped closer, holding his umbrella over the two of them.

“Thanks.” She wiped wet strands of hair out of her face. Every now and then, a gust of wind blew cold rain underneath the umbrella like a lawn sprinkler that had lost its rhythm. She was exhausted. She’d had a very long day.

It didn’t escape her how his eyes briefly dropped down her face, awakening the memories of his lips brushing hers earlier that day, numbing the tips of her fingers for the fraction of a second, before he averted his face. “I’m sorry if I sprung all this on you, but…”

“No, I’m the one who has to apologize.” His eyes settled back on hers and the shiver running down her spine had nothing to do with the weather. “You were absolutely right, I had been running from my conflicts, and my feelings. I went home to talk to Eret.” She took a deep breath. “We decided to break up.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I… Was… Was it true, then? About him and…”

“Dana? That wasn’t what I thought it was. You were right about that, too.”

“Well, I’ll have you know I am always right about everything,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug and the hint of a shy grin.

“Hmm, sure.” Her lips were twitching and the invisible string attached to her heart was pulling at her chest. The rain was cold and the heat his body was emanating was driving her insane. The proximity to him, the way he was looking at her, the light of the streetlamps reflecting golden specks in his deep green eyes sending a parade of tingles over her skin. “He hadn’t been cheating on me any more than I cheated on him.”

His brows furrowed; head cocked to the side ever so slightly.

“Emotionally. Not with Dana. And that’s only one of the reasons me and him didn’t work out.”

Shaking his head, his frown deepened. “So… What does that mean now? Astrid, why are you here?”

She mirrored his expression. “Because you wanted to talk–”

“No, I mean, why are you here? In the rain, soaked to the bone? You could have called later, or tomorrow, or any other time.”

“No, I couldn’t,” she replied, trying to lay all the sincerity she felt into her voice. “Like I said, I’ve been running away for way too long.” The world began to blur around her, the traffic and the rain faded, vision narrowing in on him, capturing his gaze so intently, it caused her palms to sweat and her hands to start shaking from the intensity. “I love you. Okay? I love you! I want to be with you, Hiccup! I- I love you.” Her heart was rapidly pumping liquid lightning through her veins from finally saying the words out loud.

The earth stopped spinning as she looked at him, waiting for a reaction. His lips were slightly parted, eyes posing as windows to his soul, alive and starry, burning into her like fireworks into the summer night. With bated breath, knees weakening under his gaze, she felt the electricity buzz around her, charging for the final blow. Seconds passed, small eternities, in which she couldn’t move, the current pinning her to the spot.

Then, he suddenly surged forward, grabbing her face with both hands, and lightning crashed through her as they finally connected in a blinding flash of blue and white. Her chest exploded; high voltage was coursing through her every nerve, every vein, blood alive, heart pounding in sync with his; it was like their souls were magnets, caught in each other’s magnetic field, too strong to disconnect.

Her heart was soaring, quaking, pulsating, the world empty but for them. Their heavy breaths and the deafening thunder in her soul the only sound reaching her ears. Space and time became foreign concepts, the universe narrowing down to where they stood, hands roaming over shoulders, necks, limbs and through hair, unable to linger, always seeking out more, lips chasing lips.

She had to hold onto him as the ground disappeared underneath her feet and she went falling, flying, tumbling through the clouds. Her stomach was doing somersaults, backflips, pirouettes; the lightning strike had left her blind. She couldn’t get enough of his touch, lungs screaming for air, but she couldn’t care less about breathing, reconnecting with his lips after every hasty intake of air, drowning in the feeling of wonder, of pure euphoria.

The only thing she knew to be real was the warmth of his body, the passion that let their lips collide over and over again until she felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the intense electric current running through their bodies like one.

Eyes still closed, they eventually parted for much required air, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling. Her hands were slowly sliding from his neck, resting over his erratic heartbeat, mirroring hers. His fingers trailed down her spine, settling around her waist.

“Did you feel that?” Her voice was shaking.

“The lightning?”

Her eyes fluttered open and her chest swelled with affection at the raw emotion in his eyes and the fact that he felt as much for her as she did for him. She nodded with a gulp.

“I did.” He lifted a hand to her face, gently wiping something hot and salty from her cheek that she hadn’t even noticed herself. “Is this real?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Hey, if not, at least we’re stuck in the same dream, right?”

“Right.” Getting lost in his gaze again, she blinked when he suddenly cleared his throat and looked around, as if remembering that there was a whole universe out of their wonderful, perfect little bubble.

“We should probably go someplace dry.” The umbrella was discarded somewhere on the ground, dirty and forgotten. “I keep getting drenched today, how is that?!”

The laughter breaking out of her and the look he gave her in return were nothing short of breathtaking, and she wondered if she was ever going to get used to that, already addicted to everything about him, everything he was doing to her. “My car is back there.” She pointed in a general direction over her shoulder.

“Okay.” He leaned down and softly pecked her lips again, followed by another toe-curling, heart-stopping, world-shaking kiss, slow and deep, her fingers clutching at his soaked shirt. Their noses brushed, wet and cold. “Okay,” he repeated himself in a whisper and stepped away enough to entwine their hands, starting towards where she had pointed.

The skin of their interlaced fingers was frigid, but Astrid did not feel the cold. She just felt… free.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles as she steered him back to her car and the contact crackled through her nerves like an inextinguishable fire. Just this morning, she’d been shaken by her own confession to herself, still anxious over the fight she’d had with Hiccup the day before. Entire lifetimes had passed since then.

Glancing at him, she caught his eyes and the blinding smile on his lips. Oh, those lips. She had discovered a new drug and she was already high on it. With a weak fist, she punched his shoulder. “That’s for breaking your phone.” He blushed, rubbing his neck with his free hand. With her own, she fished her car keys from her uncomfortably wet jeans, pushing the button and glancing over him once more. “And what the hell are you wearing?!”

_______________

- End of Part 2 -

_______________

[deathbecomesnerds]

“Girls Night” -- Raymond/Astrid

Just some fluff that I’ve been working on between Raymond and Astrid Smith. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna start posting all the ficlets I’ve done onto my A03 soon so everything is on the same outlet. 

She got comfortable with her third cocktail of the night; Astrid and her brood of friends had left the disco behind and went two doors over to the pub that they’d wanted to try but never got around to.

As they sat around the booth, drinking, Celeste started a game of ‘Truth or Dare’ which Astrid didn’t even know was a ploy to test her drunkenness.

“Astrid, truth or dare?”

Astrid thought for a moment “Truth.”

Celeste smirked “What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”

Astrid thought about it, brushing hair away from her face as she did before chuckling to herself “…I licked Peanut Butter off my husband's dick.” She said confidently.

The girls gasped, and Celeste blushed--she didn’t know her friend and boss went that hard when it came to her husband; Celeste immediately turned to the bartender and smiled “Can we get 12 more of those cocktails?” she pointed to the drink in Astrid’s hand.

The others turned back to Astrid, Monica tried to stifle her laugh as she looked at her friend “And...was that something Ray agreed to, or wanted you to do?” she asked.

Astrid laughed out loud “You guys are so perverted,” she said, taking another sip of her drink “He went to this work dinner, and he got back really late and he brought a new jar of Peanut Butter and a spreader with him and said that he was going to lick it off of me--so I said: oh, okay--so you want to play that game tonight? Why don’t I lick Peanut Butter off of you!?” she explained.

“...and?” Celeste asked.

Astrid looked at Celeste “AND...we licked Peanut Butter off of each other all night. I thought we were gonna…” she grinded her hips against the air as she sat “...after awhile, but he said not until we used up the whole jar.” she explained.

They all laughed, and Amanda, who sat next to Astrid, blushed hard.

“It took three and a half hours.” Astrid said.

The girls gasped in shock again--nobody knew what to say as Astrid smirked and took another sip of her cocktail while the waitress came with four more cocktails and rested them on the table before leaving.

Amanda grabbed one and licked her lips, glancing over at Astrid “...what’s Ray like?” she asked.

Astrid glanced at her friend, before seeing the other three nodding in agreement with mentions of ‘seeing’ Ray, but now really knowing who he was. Astrid couldn’t help but let out a smile as she had forgotten the mystery that Ray had to him--since she knew all the facets of the man, she usually thought nothing of his broad and terrifying frame when he would come into the cafe with Mickey.

“He’s a bit of a perfectionist. OCD-borderline, seriously. Not in the cutesy way, but the actual: if I don’t do things this way, then bad things are gonna happen. He’s very giving, and very loving...it’s weird how people assume that I’m just a possession to him.” Astrid explained, finishing her cocktail--Celeste immediately passed her another.

Celeste nodded in agreement “He definitely is obsessed with you in a Gomez Addams sort of way.” she admitted.

Monica grabbed a cocktail “Yeah, he’s definitely scary when he comes in. The thought of seeing him smile makes me nervous.” she admitted.

Celeste snorted “I’ve seen him smile, it’s a trip!”

Astrid just shook her head at her friends and took a sip from her next drink, letting go of the conversation and enjoying her evening when out of nowhere she then lost count of her cocktails and sat with her feet up against the booth they were all sitting at.

Her friends all glanced at each other: time to call Ray.

Celeste watched Astrid giggle while playing with her cocktail straw as Celeste used Astrid’s phone to call Ray, who was referred to as ‘Raymond ❤️’.

As the dial tone rang, she almost didn’t expect an answer when the call was finally picked up and a voice could be heard in the background.

“Hello, my love.” Ray cooed.

Celeste blushed “Oh, this is so awkward. Uh, hey…Ray, it’s Celeste!”

“Is she alright?” His voice changed, the sultry lover going now full protective, and Celeste wasn’t going to lie—she was turned on by it.

Celeste shook her head “Yeah! Of course! She’s just a bit…no, she is completely three sheets to the wind.” She admitted.

“Are you at the club?” He asked, she could hear him moving around.

“No, we are actually at a pub, two doors over. They’re going to close soon, so the bartender keeps giving us the stink eye.” She explained.

Ray gently grunted “Alright, I’ll be there in a bit. Don’t get into trouble.” He said before hanging up.

Celeste blushed again—now she understood completely as she glanced over at Astrid, Monica, and Amanda. This was going to be good.

He must have been around the corner, or possibly even speeding, because in five minutes on the dot—Ray pulled up to the pub. He walked in with swagger and confidence in his Mustard Yellow sweater and a pair of jeans which made all of Astrid’s friends swoon.

“Ray!” Celeste called out, getting his attention.

Ray turned to the table of drunk girls, and Astrid…who was being force fed water as Amanda put a straw to her lips. He sighed heavily as he approached the table.

“How much has she had?” He asked.

The girls looked at each other before Monica sighed “We lost count at 8.” she admitted.

“Oh, Astrid.” he murmured.

Astrid looked up at him and smirked “You remind me a lot of my husband!” She giggled.

“Oh, do I now?” Ray asked, before he motioned for Amanda to get out of the booth so he could retrieve his wife.

He laid a gentle, single hand on Astrid to scoot her to the end of the booth before Astrid got an attitude. “Hey—do you know who the fuck I am??! Get your hands off me!” She slurred, Ray couldn’t help but smirk.

“Star, it’s only me. Relax!” Ray said softly.

She grumbled, slowly getting out of the booth before Ray scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the car “Do you feel like you’re going to vomit at all?” He asked her softly as they left the pub, Astrid shook her head.

“You’re sure?”

Astrid nodded “Yes, Raymond.”

Her friends followed them out and watched the cute scene unfold where Astrid reached out for the drive side door and opened it, while Ray sighed heavily.

“Love, no! We’re not in the states.” Ray said.

Astrid glared at him while he opened up the backseat door “We’re not? Then where the hell are we?” She asked.

Ray chuckled “Don’t worry about it, we’re going home.” He said while maneuvering her into the backseat and buckled her in, stroking her cheek gently before closing the door and glancing at her friends.

“How bad is the tab?” He asked.

Celeste shook her head “Don’t worry, we handled it.” She said before handing Ray Astrid’s clutch.

Ray nodded as he took it “Thanks, Celeste. Goodnight, ladies!” He waved before getting into the car and driving away.

The ladies sighed with relief, getting ready to go back into the pub to grab their things.

“He is so fucking hot.” Monica murmured.

He managed to get her home and carried her inside before Astrid said she was going to throw up and wobbled her way into the downstairs bathroom and luckily made it to the toilet on time.

Ray slowly walked in to see his wife gripping tightly to the porcelain bowl that he was going to have to clean later—but it didn’t matter at this moment as Astrid slid in her heels and fell onto the floor, still gripping the toilet.

“Oh, my love, what are we gonna do with you?” He asked, kneeling down to remove Astrid’s high heels.

Astrid pressed her head against the cold bowl “Wait for the sweet relief of death, probably.” She whined.

Ray chuckled “Maybe,” he muttered to her.

He looked her over, still worse for wear as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear “You think you can stand up?” He asked.

She shook her head.

Ray understood, gently picking her up after flushing the toilet and carried her upstairs into their bedroom suite where he immediately sat her down by the toilet “I’ll be right back.” He said, quickly walking out of the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water.

Astrid groaned as she rested her cheek against the toilet seat, knowing that she would probably throw up again, but wasn’t sure when as she waited for Ray to return with a tall glass of water, and a Gatorade.

“Where did you get that?” Astrid muttered with a chuckle.

Ray smiled “I just found it in the back of the fridge--I guess one of us bought it awhile back and forgot about it.” he said as he rested both drinks on the counter and Ray kneeled before sitting next to Astrid “...do you still feel sick, my Star?” he asked her.

She nodded “I’m sorry, Ray.” she muttered.

“Why are you sorry, my love?”

Astrid shrugged “Cause I drank too much and you had to come get me…”

Ray stroked her hair “Nothing to be sorry for. Did you have a good time?” he asked.

Astrid nodded.

“Good.” he smiled at her.

Her face changed again, her pale skin going completely colorless and Ray knew where it was going as he practically leapt forward and pulled back Astrid’s hair from her face as she threw up again. Ray rubbed her back gently as his wife’s face was completely in the toilet before sitting back again and sighed heavily.

“Do you feel better?” he asked her.

She nodded “Yes,” she told him “Can you get the mouthwash?” she asked him.

“Absolutely!” he said cheerfully as he stood up and grabbed his bottle of mouthwash and handed it to Astrid.

He watched as she poured an amount into the cap and shot it before swishing it around in her mouth for a bit and then spitting it into the toilet before slowly starting to stand up with the help of Ray.

The room was spinning as Astrid fell into Ray’s arms and her knees gave out, Ray panicked for a moment as he looked at Astrid.

“Are you going to be sick again?” he asked her.

“I don’t think so,” Astrid admitted.

Ray huffed, scooping up Astrid into his arms and hurried her towards the bed and laid her down “Don’t worry about a thing, my love, I will take care of you.” he said before taking off her glittery top and unbuttoned her pants before peeling them off.

Astrid groaned, feeling the cold air against her skin as she wrapped the comforter around her body and maneuvered her head to her pillow; Ray couldn’t stop himself from smirking as he was planning on dressing her in her pajamas, but it was obvious that the drunk American had other plans.

He quietly walked into the bathroom to retrieve the water and bottle of Gatorade and moved them to her night table, not wanting to disturb her before he looked her over one last time before gently backing out of the bedroom to finish a quick task in his office before returning to bed to be with Astrid.

[ofaprilflowers]

- part 2: home? - 

warnings: descriptions of injuries, not too detailed.

tags: shout out to my first-ever requested tags, @sista7-7​  @softieus​ and @marrambles​ yay! Thank you for reading and sorry for the late update TT. Hope you guys enjoy :)

disclaimers: I am not a medical professional, this is all part of my imagination and totally made-up therefore is in no way accurate. If you find any part I could improve on, do tell. I would appreciate the feedback. Other than that, enjoy! <3

previous/next

It took another week for me to finally be discharged. A week of rehabilitation and physiotherapy (which Dr. Hwang said would be continued after my discharge TT). I had lost strength in my extremities and also my sense of balance. This, I found out after almost falling down right on my face when I attempted to climb out of bed for the first time. Almost, well because thankfully, he was there. 

My parents had arrived the night I woke up. My mother immediately cupping my face, tears brimming in her eyes while my father just took my hand in his and smiled every time I looked his way. 

It felt surreal, honestly. My family and I were close. But we were not exactly the type to be crying and holding each other, or professing our love for each other. We were the laugh-at-each-other’s-life-problems-cuz-I-had-it-worse-than-you type of family. Then again, for me it felt like I was waking up from a long nap, while for them, they didn’t know whether I would make it or not so, fair enough.

Turns out, the accident was pretty bad. My head had to be stitched up and so now there was a nasty gash above my left eye (it was definitely gonna scar but let’s not think about that right now). My arms where full of cuts and scrapes from the broken windshield. My legs and chest, badly bruised. Dr. Hwang said they had healed fairly well in the past two weeks, but I still cringed at how ugly they looked every time I caught a glimpse. He also mentioned that I was lucky not to have sustained any other serious injuries other than my head trauma. I was grateful of course, but losing my memory was deleterious enough. 

I woke up every morning feeling confused as to why the heck I was at a hospital and it took a few groggy minutes to remember. Sometimes it took seeing Jaehyun- either curled up asleep on the armchair or standing next to the window with a cup of coffee in hand- for me to come crashing back into reality. 

I learnt through my mother- who had attempted to fit the past 2 weeks of my unconsciousness along with the last 6 years into a 2 day crash-course- that Jaehyun was the only one who stayed at the hospital every day and night. My mother had stayed the first week, as my condition stabilised however, she opted to visiting daily. That also depended on whether my father was available to drive her 45 minutes to the hospital from home. You see, my parents were rational people, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt. I mean I was laying unconscious on a hospital bed yet there were still other important stuff to be handled. Well, as they say, life goes on, right? Kind of made me think if I had just hallucinated the tears brimming in her eyes the other day.

While my mother would babble on about looking on the bright side and starting my life again, Jaehyun’s presence was like having a burden be lifted. I know I’ve lived most of our “acquaintence-ship” hating him, but I made a mental note to properly thank him for this in particular. On every occasion that my head felt like it was about to burst from the overwhelming information my mother was flooding me with, he’d interject, naturally bringing her focus to something other than trying to piece me back together. Often times he’d ask her to join him for a cup of coffee, or show her things he was currently working on. I’d close my eyes then and pretend to fall asleep.

“So, you’re saying, I should continue my life ‘as normal as possible’. Meaning?” We (the doctor and I) were currently in his office. By tomorrow morning I was finally leaving. Goodbye to the sanitary, boring hospital, hello to......well, life?

The doctor had explained all the procedures and follow-up appointments that were to come. Both to Jaehyun and I. Then, we talked about going home and that’s when I realised, home had changed. I don’t know how we had avoided addressing it, or maybe I was the only one in denial of it. I mean throughout the week after regaining consciousness, although Jaehyun was there, we barely talked. Mostly because I became a selective mute, and he, well I guess he was respecting my space?

Dr. Hwang had noticed the awkward silence that had passed after he mentioned about going home and quickly changed the subject, calling in a nurse to guide Jaehyun in signing my discharge papers or something. After he left, the doctor didn’t hesitate in putting on what I call his “uncle-face”.

“As normal as possible, meaning that it’s better if you return to your daily routines prior to the accident,” he explained for the nth time.

I fidgeted in my seat. “But, wouldn’t that cause me more distress? It’s a life a barely know.” “Astrid,” he began, straightening his back. “I understand how hard it my be for you to wrap you head around all this. 6 years is a lot. But it is your life. Your experiences and memories throughout that period were real, and you deserve to remember them. You need to give your life a chance.”

Well, damn. He had a point. He should’ve been a therapist instead.

“And, what if my memories don’t come back?” I prodded.

“Well then, at least maybe you’ll learn more about yourself.” Okay, then. Here we go, Astrid.

We live in a loft?!?!

Pretty sure my eyes were bulging out of my head but wow.

Eyes wandering around the space, I tried to take in everything at once. This was certainly NOT what I had expected. This can’t be real right? I must absolutely be dreaming.

“Welcome...home?” Jaehyun said.

My head snapped in his direction, mouth agape. He smiled sheepishly, his infamous dimples popping out, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, his shoulders lifted briefly. He looked like a child, shyly presenting to the world his greatest creation. I almost smiled. Almost. 

“You like it?” he asked.

I scoffed. “For real?”

My eyes turned back to the space he had referred to as home. Well, it didn’t feel like home (yet. Remember Astrid we’re giving this a chance), but yes, I absolutely love it!

I took in my surroundings again and this time, couldn’t help the smile that crept up my cheeks. 

The space was gorgeous. It was big, but not huge. It was small, but not tiny. It was spacious enough to have everything and more. There was an L-shaped sofa that could probably fit 5 or maybe even 7 people if squeezed in together. There were even 2 more smaller ones in front of it. Perfect for a small gathering. Opposite the living room was a kitchen, with a small kitchen island. God, I’ve always dreamed of having an island. There was another floor and at the stairs leading up to it were ceiling-high windows with a bumped-out seat, all set with pillows on one end and potted plants on the other. It looked like the perfect spot to read or stargaze at night. I walked into the living room, the brick walls were covered in framed movie posters and artwork, some smaller frames containing pictures which I guessed were probably a collection of memories.

I stepped closer and caught a glimpse of some familiar faces in unfamiliar settings. One photo caught my eye. It was a photo I remember, taken earlier this ye- I mean well, early 2017, right after graduation. I was sandwiched between Jungwoo and Ten, holding up a peace sign to the camera. Jaehyun on Jungwoo’s other side, hand around the latter’s shoulders. Others in the picture smiling widely, so many poses, so many expressions. Literally, it felt like yesterday. 

“You remember that?” Jaehyun probed. 

I smiled. “Yeah, just a couple weeks before Taeil’s birthday bash, right?”

Then, something flickered in my mind. Of Jaehyun, smirking at a table with his friends, of them exchanging words and laughter, of me hearing something I probably shouldn’t have. Jaehyun had many circles of friends, being the typical extroverted, super-friendly campus sweetheart. This circle was one I wasn’t quite familiar with, least to say I didn’t really like them. I felt my cheeks heat up as my blood boiled at the thought of that memory.

“You wanna see upstairs?” Jaehyun’s voice pulled me back into reality. I turned to look at him. He was standing right next to me, looking almost exactly the same as the Jaehyun I knew. The Jaehyun that I couldn’t stand being in the same room with. The Jaehyun that always had a competitive, mischievous glint in his eye. The Jaehyun that would take every chance he got to argue with everything I said. The Jaehyun that made me feel like I had to defend everything I had. 

There was a slight difference, though. The competitive, mischievous glint was somehow...softer. It made me confused, because I was angry, but looking at him now, I don’t know who to be angrier at. Me, or him?

“Ummm, I think, I just- I just wanna lie down,” I tore my eyes away from him and took a step back, putting just a little more distance between him and I.

I saw his fists clench and unclench a bit at his sides. A moment passed until he said, “Yeah. Sure,” walking back towards the doors he picked up my hospital bag and gestured towards a room behind him.

“This is actually, um, our bedroom, but don’t worry, I’ve moved most of my stuff upstairs so this space is all yours,” dropping the bags on the bed, he stepped aside to allow me in. It was a beautiful room, with slanted windows, decorated with some more plants. 

“So, feel free to look around, get used to the place and all. Oh yeah, um, this is the bathroom,” he opened a door on the left of the room, then gestured toward a closet in front of the bed, “Your pyjamas are in the top drawer and, uh, well, um, everything else is-”

“I’ll take a look,” I smiled at him briefly.

His eyes landed on mine for a moment, then quickly looked away. 

“Yeah, okay, so um, I’ll be outside, if you need anything just, um,” his hands, one scratching at the back of his neck, the other gesturing undecidedly, “yeah.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied. He stood there for a second, then turned to leave the room.

“Jeahyun?”

“Hmm?” he snapped his head towards me, eyebrows lifted in question.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

I saw a bit of tension leave his body. “You don’t need to thank me, Astrid,” he replied softly. “This is- this is your home too.” With a tight-lipped smile, he closed the door behind him.

[whenimaunicorn]

A Favor - Charles Vane Smut

Vane x female!Pirate The crew finds out her secret, and she's ready to finally give it up. And who better to trust with this than her handsome captain? If she can overcome her awkwardness long enough to ask him for the favor, of course

Loss of Virginity, First Time, Requested premise:  I would adore you if you could create one in which he relieves the reader of her v-card. -- awkward and friendly, like a favor that suddenly turns really, really hot... the reader is already comfortably a member of his crew, and during a night in port it comes up in the group’s bawdy conversation that she’s actually still a virgin... after some ribbing and teasing she picks Vane to “take care of this problem”

Full Fic:

She comes to him slowly, her steps uncharacteristically hesitant. “You heard what the crew was talking about.”

Captain Vane sits alone in the sand, a little down the beach from the bonfire the crew had constructed for their night of carousing. He’s facing the waves, one arm propped up on his knee, the other braced over a bottle. He lifts his eyes to her, a glimmer of softness in his rugged face, and doesn’t move another muscle. “I did.”

She stands there awkwardly, the toe of one boot digging a hole in the sand. She’s made up her mind, but she’s still daunted at the thought of asking.

“You want to talk about it some more?” Vane asks, lifting a brow and his bottle to her.

It had been mortifying. Of course she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. She grabs the bottle and drops her butt unceremoniously to the sand. She sighs, rather than answering his question.

“Aren’t women usually proud of that sort of thing?”

She peers at him sideways while taking a pull from his bottle. It’s rum, strong stuff, and she instructs herself not to sip too deep. “I suppose it has been an achievement, to remain chaste so long, among so many sailors.” She passes the bottle back to him, and tries to decide if his thin lips are laughing at her. “But the crew talks like…” she grimaces. “Well, they said a lot of things. But they make it sound like I’m missing something. Some essential experience of a free life. Even Anne seemed to pity me.”

Vane releases the bottle from his lips with a satisfied little sound that warms something in her belly. “I’m inclined to agree with them.”

She flushes. It’s what she wanted to hear from him, and yet it still embarrasses her, makes her dig her toes deeper into the sand rather than turning to him. “I suppose I just… haven’t had much opportunity. Yours is the first crew I’ve been with where I haven’t had to pretend to be a boy.”

Vane grunts, offers the bottle back to her. Because she doesn’t dare to look at his face, she can’t tell if he’s listening, or just hoping she’ll leave him alone soon.

She’s usually more courageous than this. First one up the ropes, first one over the side in the vanguard (behind Anne of course), always pressing forward and proving herself more than competent. But this, to open herself to rejection, to failure of an entirely different kind, how does she do this?

“I’m sure you’ve had offers.” Vane’s throaty voice carries the conversation forward for her.

She rolls her eyes. “Tonight, sure, you heard the kind of crudeness those fuckers were spouting. How could I resist?”

“Everyone puts on a show. There are men that would be gentler once you were alone.”

That gets her attention, pulls her to finally look straight at Vane, to see if there’s even a chance he might be amenable to what she came here to ask. One side of his face is lit warmly by the bonfire up the beach, the other is colorless and angled more coldly by the light of the waxing moon. “Not those men.”

His face softens with a playful quirk of his brow. “Maybe not those men. Though I’ve known some of them to go sweet on a girl, from time to time.”

“Can you be sweet?” It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it, and now she has to ride out whatever comes next.

Vane looks startled; he tilts his head and looks at her somehow more… deeply. Then an arrogant smirk covers whatever else might have been stirring in his mind. “I know how to treat a lady.”

She looks down the neck of the bottle, forgotten between her hands. “Not sure I’m one of those.”

Vane grunts. “You think your only option is to be treated like a whore. No wonder you don’t want to go to bed with anyone.”

“I want to,” she protests, cheeks heating up. “I know it’s not always like the whorehouses.” Now’s the time for another swig of that strong rum. “I’ve heard…heard Jack and Anne together…” they only spare one cabin on the Ranger for the female crew members to have a measure of decency to themselves, and so she’s been subjected to many a sleepover by her bunkmate. “And sometimes, when they think I’m asleep, I’ll confess I’ve watched.”

Vane’s eyes are lighting up, in amusement at least. “You never asked to join?”

Scandalized, she covers her face with her hands. “It’s not like that!” She lifts them away and glares up at her captain’s sparkling eyes. “I’m just saying, I know I want it. To feel that. I’m tired of putting it off, and waiting… I know I’m ready, if I can just find a chap that cares enough to…”

Vane finishes when she trails off. “To handle you carefully?” He leans a little closer, and her heartbeat starts to race.

She nods.

“You don’t want it to be Jack. But you want someone you can trust.” His raspy voice, pitched so low, sounds almost like the purr of a cat, and she finds herself mesmerized by the look in his eyes. He takes the bottle from her fingers without looking and sets it somewhere in the sand off to the side. “So you came to me.”

Nervousness spikes and she can’t help but babble. “I don’t know if you would even want to, I don’t know the things the whores know, or—” she cuts herself off before saying Eleanor’s name; nobody mentions the Guthrie woman if they want Vane’s mood to remain pleasant.

Vane picks her hand up and threads his fingers between hers. “You really think that I wouldn’t want you.”

She tries not to tremble at the rush that goes through her entire body at his touch. “I’m no courtesan. I’ve seen the kind of women you choose at the brothels. I’m not—”

He cuts her off by raising her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss between two of her knuckles. “I’m your friend,” he answers her. “I’m happy to help you out with this sort of thing.” He tugs at her hand, drawing her to lean a little closer to him. “How about I kiss you, and we’ll just see what happens after that.”

She looks up at him, her captain, respected and feared, and one of the most handsome men she has ever seen. His stony brows have softened, and those lips that she has imagined pressing her mouth to a hundred times part in anticipation. She can barely believe he’s really saying this.

She lifts her chin. That’s all he needs. Vane tilts his head and melds his lips against her own, a sweeter kiss than she had ever thought the ferocious pirate would give. The sounds around them, the roll of the waves, the barking laughs of their drunken crewmates carried on the breeze down the beach to them, those sounds start to fade away as her awareness favors the sound of his breath, and her own, intermingling while their lips explore how many ways they can combine together.

He covers her cheeks with his hands, guiding her to lean in, to let him lead the kiss. She’s nervous to touch him, but she wants to. A tentative grasp just above his wrists leads her to slide her hands up his arms, following the corded muscle along to his broad, solid body. His hands grasp around the back of her head as his tongue flicks, lazy and tantalizing, inside her mouth.

She’s done this before, kissing, back home before she put on a pair of borrowed trousers and ran away to the sea. She hadn’t liked it quite so much last time as this, and never let that boy do what Vane was doing now, tracing his lips across sensitive skin behind her ear while his arms pull her in tightly to rest more and more of her weight against him. Her body starts to feel heavy, thick with something that must be called lust, an energy that slows her and quickens her both at once. When his lips come back to her own she opens to him eagerly, her tongue ready for his next lesson.

There’s a heat building between her legs. She doesn’t know what to do with it, a pleasant aching that bids her to relax but not to stay still, either. Vane’s strong arms pull her in closer against his body and a sudden urge to spread her legs and rub her sex against him makes her moan a wanton little sound into his mouth.

She’s embarrassed to hear herself like that, but a pleased sort of rumbling answers her from the back of her captain’s throat, and his arm pulls tight around her waist. “Come up into my lap,” he suggests, and though it makes her cheeks burn hot at the impropriety, she finds herself bold to straddle her leg across his hips and sit astride him like she’d seen many a whore do at the tavern.

He is a solid, tantalizing heat between her thighs. Now when she kisses him her head is higher, he is the one lifting his chin, and yet with one hand buried in her hair and the other running heavy up and down her back, underneath her jacket, Captain Vane is still the one firmly in control. “There’s a good girl,” he breathes when he lets her come up for air. No one talks to her that way, not here, not since her hands were callused by rope and salt, and yet to hear it from Vane only melts her further.

She presses her belly against him, curling herself into him as tightly as she can while still being able to reach his mouth for increasingly frantic, hungry kisses. The more she touches him the more she wants of him, his body all coiled power and surprisingly welcoming heat.

Her breath catches when his hand slides under her shirt, rough palm gently scratching at the tender skin of her flank. She kisses him deeper, too shy to find words of encouragement, only hoping that he will feel the way her body flushes as she finally experiences the touch she’s been dreaming of.

He strokes her like he’s just as eager as she, to make this connection, to know what she feels like underneath her clothes. His gentle sucking at her lips slows, both their attention fading to the conquest of his hands across her virgin skin.

He finds her breasts and she sits up straighter, sucking in air like she’s about to go over the side. His thumbs run slowly along the fullness at their very bottom edges, and he watches her face closely with eyes that glitter with reflected starlight. “Not too much for you already, is it?” he asks, and the phrasing is a challenge but his tone is soft and steadying.

She remembers to smile, enjoying the rush of this, and tosses her head. “I like it. I want you to keep going.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off her face as he slides his fingertips up over the peaks of her breasts, circling back down to find her nipples, tracing them carefully until he’s drawn them into stiff, needy peaks. She has to close her eyes before he’s even close to through with it, the unexpected pleasure stealing her breath and sending pulses of arousal straight between her open legs.

“Fuck, you’re sweet,” Vane curses under his breath, and her eyes fly open to see the edge of rapture in his eyes that she had heard on his voice. “How could you not think I’d want to see you like this, to be the one to do these things to you. First.” His fingers tighten, only slightly, plucking at her nipples, drawing a soft moan from her throat, so he does it again, harder the second time. “To show you what—” he cuts himself off as his fingers flick across her peaks, bending his ear to better hear the swallowed little cries she can’t help making under his expert handling.

She’s burning up. Her own hands scramble uselessly over Vane’s shoulders, his neck, his scalp, the open edge of his shirt. She doesn’t know what to do with them. She doesn’t know what she needs, and yet it seems that her body does, tensing and bridging her hips in closer to his warmth.

His head ducks into the crook of her neck, lips scrambling across whatever bare skin he can reach. “Can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he murmurs, the movement of his hands across her breasts showing where, exactly, he means. “Come with me to my tent?”

“Mhm!” She moans in the affirmative, already aching for what they’ll be able to do when they have real privacy. Her awareness comes back to their position on the beach, the flickering light of the bonfire maybe twenty paces away, and she wonders if anyone noticed them yet. If any of the crew saw her with her legs wrapped so wantonly around their Captain out here in the sand. Her face grows hotter.

Vane’s hands are still moving along her waist, rubbing back and forth under her shirt, waiting for more of a response from her.

“Yes.” She’s loathe to separate her body from his, though. They probably hadn’t been seen, not yet, since they had not been interrupted by jeers and catcalls. But that would be coming; there was no way they’d make it up the beach and into Vane’s tent without being noticed by the revelers. She gives her about-to-be-lover a nervous smile and moves to dismount him.

His hands trail somewhat reluctantly out of her clothing as she recedes from him, then he’s following to stand up from the sand as quickly as she is. She feels awkward, standing on the beach beside him, but while neither of them are saying anything the heated look in his eyes says everything. Then his fingers are twining between her own and he’s pulling her toward the firelight.

Her face is still burning in apprehension of the comments she’s about to face. But it feels good, too, to know that Captain Vane is not trying to hide what he’s doing with her, that he’s evidently proud for his choice of bedfellow to be known. This “favor” that he’s doing her is not a secret he will try to hide and deny.

Faces turn at their approach, drunken smiles lighting up at varying paces as some of the crew are quicker on the uptake than others.

“We wondered where you disappeared off to,” one of the gunners leers. He’s sitting on a log next to Jack and Anne. “I was about to go looking for you myself, offer you some help with your little problem.” Anne turns to him with furrowed brow.

Jack interrupts, speaking a bit hastily. “It appears the Captain has that situation well in hand.”

Vane’s grip around her fingers squeezes tighter, and he barely slows his strides past the gossiping crew.

The gunner’s grin is wide and ugly. “Make her squeal loud enough for all of us to hear, Cap’n. Some of us—”

Whatever foul thing about to come out of his mouth next is smashed back into his teeth by Anne Bonny’s fist. The blow is hard enough to make the gunner slump off the back of the log. She scoots down, occupying the space she had just made him vacate, and pulls a wicked hunting knife out of her belt. “It’ll be a lot worse for anyone I catch creeping around the Captain’s tent tonight,” she announces to no one in particular, using the knife to start paring down one of her fingernails.

Well then. That’s about as close to privacy as any lady could expect on this beach. She flashes a grateful smile at Anne as Vane tugs at her to keep on walking past.

But Anne’s not done. “As for you, Captain,” she barks from under the brim of her wide hat, her one visible eye fixing him with a baleful glare, “you better make it good for her.”

Vane tucks the blushing virgin in against his side, his hand grasping broad against her waist. “If she has any complaints after,” he growls toward the protective Anne, “she should feel free to tell you.”

And then he’s steering her decisively up the beach, away from the fire and into the makeshift neighborhood of tents that houses the crew on the shore of Nassau town.

She can’t see much in the filtered moonlight when Vane ushers her into his tent. It’s low, not really any bigger than anyone else’s on the beach, but as she ducks inside she’s able to make out a collection of carpets, cushions and blankets arranged into an enticing bed.

Of course, the most alluring thing about it is knowing who sleeps there. Vane has started working his boots off, and so she follows suit, sitting beside him on the edge of a carpet. Their arms brush in the darkness, then their shoulders, and then his hand finds her face and pulls her in for a kiss before she’s finished wriggling the last boot over her ankle.

He breaks the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, and his fingers scramble at the hem of hers before he forces himself to slow down, breathing hard. She looks at him in the dim, the skin of his bare shoulders almost glowing as it reflects the thin light that filters in through the tent walls. She runs her palms across his broad, chiseled chest. She’d already memorized the look of it, as her captain had a propensity to parade about without his shirt, and his impressive physique has favored heavily in her more sinful thoughts. And now, now she gets to touch it.

The firm muscle beneath her palms is warm and solid, and it twitches as Vane raises his arms to embrace her, pull her in tighter against his fast-beating heart. His lips seek hers and then he is drawing her down, pulling her to fall against him into the nest of cushions that make his bed.

Her heart races faster than it did on the beach. There is something more sinful, more real, about lying on her back in the dark, the length of her body being pushed flat and open by the weight of a man, than anything else that had come before. But she knows she really is ready for this because the thought only enhances her pleasure, draws out her own eagerness for the experience.

As he continues to kiss her, he works the bottom of her shirt up, while his knee plants more and more firmly between her legs. She lifts her torso to help him undress her.

The ends of his long hair hit her bare skin first, as she lays back into the pillows, naked from the waist up, and Vane bends his head over her. She feels his breath next, hot and heavy, and then his devouring mouth. They’re not quite kisses, not quite bites as Vane works his lips and teeth across her chest, starting at her collarbone and making his way down to more tender flesh. One strong hand scoops up her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple once before the heat of his mouth envelops it.

She listens to her breath, already panting in the darkness. She listens to the soft, wet noises of Vane’s mouth traveling along her body, the occasional rumbling sound of his own enjoyment, and encouragement. She realizes his leg has reached her sex, that she’s rubbing herself against it, and pleasure blooms when she angles her hips and crushes some sweet, tight spot of herself against his powerful thigh.

His mouth comes back to her lips and he rolls his thigh between her legs while kissing her deeply. He plants his knee in the blankets and brings his hand to the outside of her hip, encouraging her to rock herself into him however she likes. “There’s nothing more enticing than an eager woman,” he purrs along her cheek. “Show me how you want to ride.”

She’s sure that she doesn’t understand the nuances of what he’s talking about, but she moves against his solidly planted knee anyway, wrapping her legs around his wide thigh and rolling that sweet spot at the front of her hips in tight little bucks that send wave after wave of joyful heat through her entire core.

His face is hovering over her own, and when she opens her eyes she can barely make out a glittering satisfaction in his eyes. It’s still awkward, and she can still barely believe she’s doing this, with Captain Vane of all people, but the moment is turning into something now that feels absolutely, terribly right. She parts her lips, looking up at him with abandon, and he bends to kiss her with steady passion.

The pleasure between her legs feels incomplete. Riding just behind the enjoyment is a screaming, clawing need, a hot and bewildering feeling that something else is supposed to happen, something that the man above her is keeping from her, and her eyes sharpen, her hands clamber and scratch along his shoulders and his broad back. He slides his own hand down her body, caresses her belly, is stopped by her belt.

“Trousers,” she pants, finally realizing the problem. “Off.”

Vane chuckles against her skin and pulls his knee back to make room for her furious scramble to loosen her belt and strip off the clothing that suddenly feels so oppressive to her. He rocks away further and she hears him shedding the last of his own clothes in the dark.

But the air is cold without him pressing against her, and some of the rush drains away from her head as she works her trousers down off both of her legs. This is it, now. With both of them naked in this little tent, it’s really going to happen.

He reaches for her in the dark. Kisses her again, taking his time with it, before touching her in any other way. Waits for her to melt her body back into his, by slow degrees, until the heavy trance of skin on skin takes over, and she pulls him down to lie flat beside her so she can better indulge in that feeling of so much bare skin touching all at once.

His cock is a solid line pressing into her upper thigh, foreign but not unwelcome. Something she’d been taught to fear, but now finds only fascinating. She lets her hand drift down to find it. Her fingertips trace along the side of it, smoother, silkier skin than the rest of him, and Vane emits a rumbling, encouraging sound and pulls his hips back just far enough to give her more room to explore.

Her fingers curl around it, touch still light and tentative. There is an iron firmness underneath that silky skin, all the way up until the thicker, spongier tip. He moans when she slides her thumb across that head, so she does it again, and he clutches her tighter around the shoulders.

She makes a circle with her thumb and first fingers, running her grip all the way down his length and up again. It just seems so… big. “Will this really fit?” she blurts, unable to hide the apprehension beginning to bloom in her belly.

Vane makes a delicious sound and pulls her hand away, flipping his loose grip on her wrist to push it into the pillow above her head as he moves his body on top of hers. “It will,” he promises, looking down on her with hooded eyes. “After I warm you properly.”

“What—” she asks, cut off by the surprise of Vane’s quick retreat down her body, mouthing his way past her navel and along her hip bone. He pushes her legs apart and settles his body into the blanket between them. His hands run broad and soothing up and down the insides of her thighs. Her face burns as he lays a kiss directly on her mound.

His gravelly voice comes up from the darkness below her hips, where she can no longer really see his face. “Has anyone ever touched you here before?”

“No,” she breathes.

He starts gently, cupping her sex with one hand, letting her get used to the warmth of that, rocking his palm in a soft imitation of the way she had been riding his thigh earlier. Then she feels one finger tickling, sliding up and down the seam of her sex, parting those lips and pressing in between. Her breath catches at the delicious invasion, and he goes no further, only gliding back and forth along the very edge of her.

She lets herself moan, a tiny sound, just to encourage him.

His finger sweeps deeper, bolder, and then his whole hand is angling differently, one finger between her lips becoming two that spread her wider, that dance over hidden folds and rub together around that nub of a sweet spot that makes her pant and moan and catch fire.

And then his mouth, oh God his mouth presses firm upon that spot and the heat of his tongue stokes the fire further, until she no longer feels an ounce of shame in letting her knees fall wide, and her hips buck up to meet him and that glorious tongue. His fingers come back to her entrance and a sweet, crystalline “yes” drops from her lips as he pushes one slowly inside her body.

So this is what makes the whores sing, the sensation that makes Anne pant and whine, clench her teeth and groan. Vane’s finger sinks and sinks and then he works it in a dance that coordinates with his tongue somehow and steals the breath right out of her lungs. There’s pressure as he starts to add a second finger, a tightness that can’t be called pleasure but doesn’t really count as pain, either. His two fingers work inside her, imitating fucking now, and she knows he’s getting her ready for what he really wants to do to her.

She wants it. Oh God she wants to be able to take it for him, that whole thing that even two of her fists probably wouldn’t be able to cover, that his fingers could not possibly prepare her for. But the sense of stretch is easing at her entrance and in its wake is nothing but ecstasy. “I want you,” she moans as she rolls her head back in the pillows. “I want you to take me, Captain.”

Captain Vane makes a guttural sound against her sex, the vibration mixing with the other delicious feelings to make her moan again. He draws his fingers slowly out of her body, spits on them and returns extra wetness to the coating on her sex. He rises, handling himself in much the same manner, and then climbs over her body so that their faces are aligned.

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t ask her to repeat herself, or make her beg for it, or question her resolve. He looks down at her with pure hunger, the spill of his hair curtaining them both, and then she feels the blunt tip of his cock lining up with her body.

The difference between that and his fingers is apparent immediately, her entrance stretching wider as he slips his slickened tip in, satisfying the primal craving that had been irking her from the moment her body had started to awaken to him. This was what she wanted, for the man smothering her with his scent and his mouth and his wild eyes to Take Her, to press where no one had ever—

The intensity he reaches when he’s few inches inside shocks her with a burning peak that steals her breath and her thoughts. Her body tenses against him, and Vane drops his lips to her cheek and pauses his progression. “There’s going to be pain,” he murmurs to her, reaching up to stroke her cheek with his fingertips, “no way around that. But it won’t last.”

She nods, looking up into his eyes, softening at the care and concern she sees in them, which overpowers the needy trance of his lust. She can trust those eyes. Vane starts pressing in again, and the pain transforms, becomes something holy all on its own, a rite of passage perhaps, a glorious experience of submission, of sublimation. The sharpness of the pain recedes, the burn becomes a stretch, a feeling of fullness, one that deepens and deepens until Charles Vane is fully inside of her.

He pauses there, letting her catch her breath, staring down into her eyes. She’s never seen him look so handsome, his face softened, his eyes and his thoughts focused, only on her. His fingers trace down the side of her face again, and then he’s kissing her, a melding of lips that says everything about how much he’s holding back, just to be still for her, just to keep from overwhelming her.

His hips start to move. He reverses the gains he’s made, drawing himself out almost to the tip, then slowly sinks back into her, the slide of every inch almost as intense as the first time, and she tries to remember to breathe against his cheek as he rubs his face against hers in his struggle to keep himself gentle. Every repeat of his conquest inside her hurts a little less, and after repeated strokes the burn becomes a passionate bliss, ache becoming hunger deep inside her body until she finds herself rocking her hips in time with his rhythm, both of them moving faster now, urging each other on.

His grunts in her ear are sounding less restrained. And while his cheek is still pressed against hers, his upper body is pulling away, slightly, repositioning to add more power to his thrusts. Slowly, still; she can feel his intensity raising and lowering in time to the rhythm of her own breaths, to the gasps and tiny cries that his ear is positioned so carefully to hear. His hair is spilled across the lower part of her face and she is suffused in the smell of him. “Charles,” she all but sobs. She is so glad that it is him, showing this to her, taking her now to planes of pleasure she had barely imagined existed.

He makes a pleased noise in response to the sound of his name, pulls back far enough to look at her. He doesn’t say anything back but that’s fine because she’s never seen a smile quite like the one that’s spreading across his face now, something more innocent and joyous than she had ever expected. He leans all his weight on one arm, not stopping the steadiness of his thrusting into her cunt. Thick, heavy pleasure is brewing there between her legs, like a thunderhead rapidly roiling in from the coast. His freed hand spreads her leg a little wider, coaxing her to relax and let him in a little deeper, and then he reaches down to once more rub on that pearl hidden just above where he’s fucking her and makes the storm break.

She throws her head back at the mind-numbing sensation that erupts just a few moments after his fingers began their spiral. She feels like her body is a bell Charles Vane has just struck, and that she might be torn to pieces by the brilliant note he’s wringing from her. She arcs against him, which only deepens the sensation, and vaguely she hears him groaning his approval into her ear as he fucks her right through this dizzying climax. “That’s it, love, oh, such a sweet—” his rambling stutters and then so does his body, cock pressing harder in short little bursts while her pleasure is still ringing its way down in ebbing waves. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and then moans, grinding against her as deep as he can go until his breath and energy run out.

He sinks against her, mindful not to crush her completely, and his fingers stroke softly along her hip. He stays like that for a while, cock still stretching her insides, but much less intensely than when they started. Her pleasure is a shimmering haze, a fog clearing only slowly with every breath, with each tiny movement of their bodies as they settle into comfortable rest.

Charles Vane’s fingers dance up her side, coming to trace along her face and turn it softly toward his. That soft smile is still there on his face, intimate and joyful.

“So that’s what I’ve been missing,” she blurts when the silence between them becomes too much. They both grin.

“Satisfied?” his gravelly voice rumbles, and he finally shifts off of her, settling his weight more comfortably by her side.

She looks up toward the roof of the tent, the little holes where the moonlight is filtering through. Her limbs feel heavy, the heat in her core burning down to banked embers, and everything in her being feels peaceful and slow. “I don’t think I remember how to move.”

Vane lifts his upper body with a soft chuckle, and reaches for something behind him. He comes back with a soft cloth that he wipes slowly between her legs, removing the sticky wetness he’s left behind there. She feels him cleaning himself with it too, and then he’s settling back down beside her, tucking her in under his arm.

The night air is just cool enough for her to appreciate the warmth of his body beside her. She turns in, laying one leg across his thighs, and he shifts invitingly, letting her entwine her limbs with his.

He tips his face to make sure she’s looking at him, his hand stroking along the top of her head. His expression starts fading into that air of command that she is more used to seeing from her captain. “I want you to come to me whenever you need to experience this again,” he orders. They both grin, and he pulls her in closer as their exhausted bodies begin to succumb to sleep.

~*~

It’s been a pleasure to create this for you, “Charles Vane Anon.” Hope I captured what you were longing for. A note to all readers: I love a good first time kink, but please don’t take this story to mean that there should be any pressure on anyone to “go all the way” and submit to p/v sex or any of that nonsense. I just think those problematic messages can be kind of hot in a fantasy like this one. Hope you enjoyed.

Taglist and requests are both open for Vane! Next up is some sparring that turns sexy, and maybe some more plays on the theme of choosing Vane to be your First. Tagging: @acebreathesfire​ @kind-wolf​ @ladyhubris​ @summertimesadness101

More sexy Vane here

[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - A Deeper Look (STORY SPOILER)

A Closer Look - Author’s Breakdown of the Story 

(Contains Spoilers)

So, I said I wasn’t going to do this, but I know what it’s like to read a book or watch a movie and end up with more questions than answers. Personally, it irritates the fuck out of me. While I want you, the reader, to draw your own conclusions from My Brother’s Keeper, I want to give you some behind the scenes looks into the story, as a whole, to help you along. If you think I was saying something else, then, by all means, run with it…I ain’t mad at you.

Chapter 1

Hvitserk is sitting with his first victim and he’s just zoning out. He’s having a crisis of conscious about what he’s doing, that’s when he starts thinking about Ivar. To make himself feel better about the situation he’s in, he starts to compare himself to Ivar, saying that Ivar is the sick and sadistic one.

Ivar leaves Hvitserk alone with Astrid – something he does a lot. He likes to get his head together and figure out what he’s going to do. He gives Hvitserk a lot of downtime with their victims. It’s not until Hvitserk makes a “mistake” does Ivar appear. He shows up when Hvitserk can’t handle what he’s done. He’s the one that tells Hvitserk that everything is okay and he’ll take care of him. He makes it better for him and allows him to room to grieve over what he’s done.

Astrid, the first victim, never sees the two of them together. She’s dead before Ivar comes into the room.

Chapter 2

Hvitserk wakes up from days of being unconscious only to find that Ivar has taken care of everything. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with the fact that he’s done it again. He’s gone and killed another person, so he needed to retreat into himself. When that happens, Ivar handles everything – he cleans up the mess. He takes care of Hvitserk and makes sure he has everything he needs. He makes sure the bills are paid, cooks breakfast, calls into work…he is the protector. He’s the sadistic one that finds all the murder and mayhem amusing, while Hvitserk is embarrassed and ashamed of it.

Hvitserk says something important in this chapter. He says he had a normal childhood filled with love and it was happy. That no one touched him that he just had some doctors tell him they didn’t know why he was like he was.

He’s recreated his past so much in his head that it was happy. None of the bad things happens because remembering hurts – and he doesn’t like pain. He doesn’t deal with it well. His colorful recreation of the past is an important foreshadowing for the rest of the story.

Chapter 3

Hvitserk is in awe of Ivar’s strength and the fact that he’s everything that he isn’t. But, Ivar is jealous when Thora is around. Ivar is angry because he wants to go out and party but Hvitserk wants to stay in with Thora – always tearing Hvitserk between the life he thinks he wants and what he is. This is important because it shows how he’s constantly split between who he is and what he thinks he should be.

However, Thora is the key to this chapter. Notice, that she and Hvitserk have been dating for over a year, yet, she’s never met Ivar. She only knows what she’s heard of him when he has a meltdown, or from what Hvitserk describes. As he’s on downstairs, throwing shit and arguing with Hvitserk, she’s too scared to leave the room.

Hvitserk makes it a point to keep them apart because he’s afraid of what Ivar will do to her. And Ivar wants to kill Thora because she’s his last little piece of conscious, that if (Ivar) can just get rid of, Hvitserk will be free.

Chapter 4

This chapter was loaded with clues.

Hvitserk spends a lot of time talking about how charismatic Ivar is and how everyone just loves him. How people are just drawn to him – how he’s the complete opposite of his brother. While Ivar is magnetic, Hvitserk is awkward. It’s no wonder people don’t pay him much attention when the two of them are around.

When they spot Kalf, he only interacts with Ivar. Ivar’s putting the moves on him and Hvitserk are watching like a stalker from across the table. Even when they get up to leave the club, Hvitserk walks behind them and watches the way Kalf walks with Ivar to the car.

Ivar is the one that gets Kalf in the car and bashes his head against the dashboard. All Hvitserk can do is sit in the backseat like a giddy school girl. Yet, Hvitserk is the one that carries Kalf into the warehouse (Ivar can’t because of his disability). If you notice, Ivar never does anything that exerts physical strength against his victims – he’s more mental strength. He’s got a physical impairment. But, to Hvitserk, he’s perfect.

Anyway, again, Ivar and Hvitserk aren’t in the room at the same time when poor Kalf is being abused. Ivar takes his time and goes first, while Hvitserk is zoning out, looking around the place. He doesn’t like blood and yelling and Ivar makes sure there’s a lot of that, so he likes to leave the room. Hvitserk is just about the power he gets from rape. He doesn’t need all the other stuff.

When he starts having sex with Kalf, Ivar is in the room, egging him on – but Ivar doesn’t partake. Ivar NEVER partakes. Ivar doesn’t have sex with anyone (again, it leads to his disability) and because they don’t dabble in each other’s pleasures. Hvitserk doesn’t torture, Ivar doesn’t rape. It’s that simple. But, Ivar loves to push Hvitserk to the brink of becoming an animal. He sees what Hvitserk wants to be and can almost get him there.

Once it’s over, and Hvitserk is spent, before the guilt sets in, Ivar is there to take care of things. Again, he makes sure the body is disposed of, because it may be too much for Hvitserk to handle and then he may admit to himself that he went too far. It’s easier for Hvitserk to block it out that way if he doesn’t know all the details.

Chapter 5

Hvitserk is on edge because killing Kalf didn’t satisfy him. He’s devolving. He’s not getting off on the one victim every so often anymore. He needs it more and more now. It used to be that just rape was enough. Now it’s getting to the point that he doesn’t care so much what happens to them afterward as long as he can fulfill his needs. He needs more. Each one has to be bigger and better than the last.

Even being with Thora isn’t enough for him to settle his nerves. He doesn’t want to believe that Ivar is right and he needs this, but it’s in his blood. He can’t stop it. Still, it doesn’t stop him from feeling guilty when he finds out that Kalf had a life before meeting them; one of them being Thora.

Of course, he’s overwhelmed when he finds out and runs to Ivar. He has to disappear because only Ivar can comfort him. And while he’s away, passed out from the guilt, Ivar takes care of him, the house, and everything else.

Chapter 6

This is the chapter where Ivar takes Hvitserk to the cabin for his birthday. It’s his way of showing him that it’s okay to be who is he. The cabin is also it’s also reminiscent of the shed where some of the abuse used to happen when he was little. By making a place like that, as an adult, Ivar is giving him his power back. The fact that Hvitserk is giddy about making plans to bring someone back to the cabin shows that he’s farther gone than he thinks.

Chapter 7

Ivar and Hvitserk have a conversation on what their idea of a perfect world would be like. Hunting people, doing what they want. Thora having the kids, and just the two of them raising them. It shows that they are inseparable. And no matter how much Hvitserk thinks he wants to be with Thora, he really wants to be with Ivar. He’s left his girlfriend in the bed, sleeping, to join his brother in his bed to talk about how he feels, his dreams…all the things he should be sharing with his girl. Ivar is truly his partner, not Thora. Ivar treats Hvitserk with the care of a lover and Hvitserk is in love with him – not in a romantic way, but in a romanticized way.

Chapter 8

The biggest clue is in this chapter. Again, Ivar has left Hvitserk alone with a victim. Yudu was more than happy to leave with Ivar but found herself in Hvitserk’s clutches. She never saw the two of them together. She thought she was getting the one brother but got a surprise.

When Hvitserk is talking to Yudu, and teasing her because she wants to leave, he tells her that she can’t. That he’s not the bad guy, Ivar is. He says, “He won’t let you. When he comes back here, he’s going to do everything he wants to do. Then he’s going to kill you because he wants to or he’s going to make you beg him to put you out of your misery.” She responds, “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the fucking pig rapist…you sorry sack of shit!” She was genuinely confused.

It wasn’t until she starts telling Hvitserk that he’s weak and he’s nothing does he lose his temper and his sadistic side comes out. He kills her with the type of force that Ivar would use. It takes someone making him lose his cool for him to snap like that and be fully aware of it. But once he calms down, he blacks out just when Ivar is there to take over and protect him.

Chapter 9

This chapter shows the dynamic between the two brothers. Ivar is the polar opposite of Hvitserk. Nothing bothers him. He’s in control. Hvitserk is around, but Ivar is making sure he’s being babied and protected. Not even the television is going to upset him. Ivar is in control, of everything.

It also shows how quickly both of them can be distracted when they see something (someone) they want. Their new neighbor makes them forget all about Hvitserk’s insecurities because they can only concentrate on who she is and that they want her.

Chapter 10

Another chapter loaded with clues. The entire time Hvitserk is talking to Aud from the screen door, Ivar stays out of sight. Not only is he feeding lines to Hvitserk and helping him not to be so awkward, but Aud has no idea that Ivar is even there. She thinks she’s only dealing with one brother. Hvitserk is trying his hand at getting his confidence – Ivar says that Hvitserk needed a win and he needed a confidence booster that’s why he helped him talk to her. Even when Bishop Heahmund came around, he talked about Ivar, but no one ever saw Ivar. Even when Hvitserk invited them out, he said Ivar would come, but they’ve never met him. They don’t know if he would show.

Chapter 11

Bishop and Aud were able to be subdued by being drugged. Hvitserk said that people usually talk to Ivar, but the two of them were talking to him. When they got up to dance, they had their drinks spiked and that’s how they became victims. They wake up and Aud is chained to the fireplace and Bishop is being led around by a dog collar. Hvitserk wakes up because he doesn’t like how things went down, so he checked out, but Ivar was there to take over. Ivar coaches Hvitserk along with how he wants to see him punished. Then Ivar gets to be as sadistic as he wants and kills Bishop. Then Hvitserk gets to be gentle with Aud’s corpse. Again, showing the difference between the two. But, again, the two of them never hurt the couple at the same time and relied on very different styles of torture.

Chapter 12

Hvitserk has the illusion that he can leave everything behind and marry Thora. But, he admits that he doesn’t know what love feels like. He only knows it in relationship to Ivar. While he should be thinking about Thora and their future, he’s thinking about Ivar and how he fits into it all. Then he slips into how he would like a house in the country where there are no people around, so he can party as much as he wants (the same kind of secluded house he rents at the end), right before he thinks about how fast he can snatch up the hostess.

Chapter 13

The state of the house is a metaphor for the state of Hvitserk’s mind. There are dishes in the sink and the house isn’t tidy. That’s not like Ivar, who is a neat freak. Hvitserk is afraid to talk to Ivar because he’s scared of his reaction and all these different fears and insecurities – that’s what the house looks like. But, true to form, Ivar handles it with ease. He looks disappointed but gently tells him, he doesn't want this. The violence within Ivar in direct opposition to the gentleness he shows Hvitserk – even when he’s unhappy with him.

Chapter 14

This chapter is what it is. Hvitserk is losing his damn mind. He’s suffering because he hasn’t gone out, Ivar’s not talking to him, he feels alone and he thinks he’s doing what’s best for him. But his true nature is in the basement in a case, just waiting for him. Oh, what to do? Take the woman in the cage, or say no? Decisions, decisions…

Chapter 15

Hvitserk doesn’t have the willpower he thinks he has. He’s blaming Ivar for torturing him because his rival is the one in the cage. He breaks down like a little kid, and Ivar sits beside him and wipes his tears like he just scraped his knee. He tells him it’s okay and he understands. He even asks, how he can make it easier for him – take her to your room, or set up the cot in the basement? The tug of war over Hvitserk’s life between him and Ivar is the same war that Hvitserk is constantly having within himself.

Ultimately he gives in and gets mad when she doesn’t fight back. He resents the fact that Ivar is making jokes and seems to be enjoying watching him break all of his promises. It’s not until later that he decides that Ivar is the bad influence and tells him that he’s leaving does he realize that Ivar isn’t going to let him go.

Chapter 16

This chapter is full of clues.

Somewhere along the night, Hvitserk kills Judith. When he wakes up he’s looking for Ivar to make it all better. But, when he comes upstairs he notices the door locked and can hear Thora’s voice. Thora is not alive when she’s with them both, at the same time. When Hvitserk talks to Ivar through the door, notice how she only replies to Hvitserk. She says things like, “You’re scaring me.” “Why are letting this happen.” “Open the door.”

When Ivar finally opens the door he’s covered in blood. Hvitserk rushes to her and covers her body with his own. He uses his shirt to try to wipe the blood from where her face once was. When the police come, he says he’s covered in blood. There’s blood on his cheek from where Ivar smeared it there. His hair is matted to his head with sweat and tears. There’s blood all over him. He looks like Ivar did, covered in her blood…

Chapter 17

This chapter goes into their background. You find out about the sexual abuse suffered by all the kids at the hands of Bjorn, Ragnar, and Rollo. I assume Bjorn was probably abused, too. This is always when you learn that Hvitserk raped Guthrum and killed Ubbe when he was a kid. You learn about his sexual misdirection and how he was pretty much taught that if you want sex, you take it. You also realize that he lied about saying that he had this great childhood full of love. It’s not until he’s given the truth serum does he talk about the painful memories.

Ivar shows up, outside the glass doors, when Hvitserk is at an incredibly vulnerable point. He’s on the floor, being held down feeling all this shit from his past and he’s in pain. All he wants is Lagertha to let him see his brother but she keeps denying him and feeding him drugs. But, when he needs him the most, he catches a glimpse of him. He’s not far away, but he’s just not quite able to get to him. The least he could do is warn them that Ivar doesn’t like it when Hvitserk is unhappy.

Chapter 18

So this wasn’t part of the original story. I had to try to work it into it, and I hope I didn’t make it worse by doing so. But, folks were asking for some Ivar POV so there it goes.

This was Ivar coming into the facility to take care of a broken down Hvitserk. He had to tell him what to do to stop taking their pills, and how to get himself right so he can get out of there. The story recapping how Aslaug died was important because it shows what Ivar resents about Hvitserk, killing their mother, but the fall out of the accident. They both went through the windshield, and both were half dead. Their mom said to always take care of each other. That’s something that Ivar remembers.

He also remembers killing Sigurd. He did it to protect Hvitserk. That was the first time he protected his older brother and that’s when he reminds him that their job is to protect each other.

Ivar is only around Hvitserk when no one else is around. He’s telling Hvitserk stories about things that happened when they were little, things that Hvitserk may be able to corroborate, but he’s high on the meds from the hospital, so anything is possible. Ivar is reminding him that he’s strong, too and he protects him the same way Hvitserk tried to protect him (Ivar) when he was young – even if it’s what killed their mom. It’s what Hvitserk needs to hear because he needs to get himself together to get out of that place.

Chapter 19

This is another chapter that wasn’t part of the original story.

The key here is in Lagertha’s reaction to meeting Ivar. She’s nervous around him and afraid to upset him. She says things like, she feels like she knows him. She asks him questions like was he at the trial – things like that.

She tries in every way possible to gently tell him that Hvitserk is getting strong on his own and doesn’t need him to protect him anymore. That he’s made so much progress. Having Ivar around would set him back. She even had Hvitserk write a letter to Ivar saying that he needed to try to make it on his own, without his help.

Ivar is annoyed by Lagertha because of the hold she has on Hvitserk. But as usual, no one has ever seen the two of them together.

Chapter 20

It all comes out here. Hvitserk feels abandoned by Ivar, but he misses him. I alluded to him stockpiling his pills and using them to drug guards, doctors, and everyone else to do whatever he wanted. Eventually, breaking out of the facility. That’s why he’s back at the cabin now.

He’s found himself another, young, naïve girlfriend who doesn’t know any better, and a house in the country – far away from everything. The only thing he needs now is Ivar. Of course, he’s not taking his meds anymore, so he’s starting to get little itches of his urges back.

Then like magic, Ivar appears. They have it out. Of course, Hvitserk is stronger now and he can say how he feels without the fear of Ivar’s reaction which makes Ivar proud. That’s all he ever wanted was his brother to fully accept who he was. But Hvitserk still doesn’t like how he went about it. He makes Ivar read the file, that diagnoses him will all kinds of disorders, including Dissociative  Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder). He tells Ivar that they tortured him into believing he is crazy. That he made him up because he supposedly died when Aslaug did.

Think back – Hvitserk made up having a happy, loving childhood. He made up having a relationship with Ubbe. He made up the fact that Ivar didn’t die in the car accident. The guilt of having his brother and mother die in a crash that was “his fault” because he told his mother what was happening and she tried to protect him (only Ivar - she never tried to protect any of the other boys) was too much for him. He did the only thing he could - his young mind fractured and protected his brother, forever

No one ever saw the two of them together. All the times Hvitserk passed out, the Ivar personality took over, because he’s the stronger, dominant personality and was the protector. He was always there whenever Hvitserk needed him, no matter the time of day or night. He was Hvitserk’s polar opposite – smooth, charming, handsome, able to lure people in with just his smile. He was everything that Hvitserk was too self-conscious to truly be. He was the side of Hvitserk’s consciousness that was constantly fighting within himself about giving up their life of murder. He was the side that wanted to take more risks, make the kills bigger and better. 

HVITSERK is a truly sadistic person and to know that both sides are in him, makes him an apex predator. The fact that he had years of therapy means nothing. Especially, when Ivar says if you let me back in, I will never leave again. Hvitserk just shrugs and leaves the door open for Ivar to come in if he wants.

Then he goes over and sits and asks Lagertha what he should do. He’s already got her tied up and waiting…he’s back at it again. But now, he’s complete with his other half.

Though it seemed the other way around, Hvitserk truly ended up being, his brother’s keeper.

@youbloodymadgenius​​ @idea-garden​​ @kol--mikaelson​@mooniemouse​ @didiintheblog​​ @waiting4inspiration​​ @tempt-ress​ @where-beauty-goes-to-die​ @crazyaboutmotleycrue​ @oddsnendsfanfics​​ @geekandbooknerd​​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @honestsycrets​ @xbellaxcarolinax

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 37

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Interlude | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36

The roar echoed through the cove – snaring and furious. But it was not produced by a dragon. Toothless lifted his head, green eyes blown and ears standing on end at the disturbing noise. When he saw who it was, he grumbled and rested his chin once more on his front legs. Astrid was just as much a part of his life nowadays as Hiccup. It wasn’t uncommon for her to target practice in his peaceful sanctuary, though her practice did seem more heated than usual today.

Anger-fueled adrenaline pumped through Astrid’s body. She wasn’t sure what she expected when she woke up from the few hours of sleep she managed to snag. She hated being upset with Hiccup, but she hated even more the actions he’d taken in the past two days. He’d disappeared for another entire day after he’d promised to at least tell her if he was leaving Berk. The little twirp was true to his word about one thing. He didn’t leave a note this time.

Her axe slammed into the largest tree truck in the vicinity. Astrid needed this -- to expel the accumulated frustration that had built up. Her entire body pulsed with it. If she didn’t get rid of it soon, every fiber of her would blow at the seams. That’s why she left before the sun had awoken. That’s why she was far from Hiccup, relieving the pressure so it wouldn’t explode in his face.

She flung her axe until her arm ached and chest heaved. Astrid couldn’t tell if she felt better because of the workout or because she was too exhausted to care anymore. She made her way over to Toothless and plopped down against his side. Toothless raised his head, watching her curiously. It was odd for her to visit the cove without Hiccup. Toothless was bewildered as to why his best friend hadn’t accompanied her.

“I know you’re Hiccup’s dragon and I probably shouldn’t complain about him to you.” The dragon warbled, tilting his head at her. Astrid tapped the axe handle on the ground a few times, contemplating. “But, you’re my friend too, Toothless. The only friend that I can come to.”

Toothless stretched his neck, licking the top of her hand that rested on her knee. Astrid gave Toothless a tight-lipped smile. Maybe she did feel a little better.

“I don’t know why Hiccup does what he does,” she continued. “I thought he was finally growing up. Becoming responsible. He was showing the makings of…well, of a chief! I was seeing what he could do. What he could become.” She released a frustrated growl. “Why is he suddenly going backwards?”

Astrid turned her gaze to meet Toothless’ wide green eyes. “I’m sure you know why. Hiccup probably talks to you.”

Toothless’ nose twitched a few times, his expression one of contemplation. It was funny how such distinct expressions were noticeable on a dragon when you weren’t in the heat of battle with one.

Astrid yelped in surprise when Toothless nudged her onto his head and flung her onto his back. She barely kept hold of her axe as she landed onto the stiffness of the saddle.

“Toothless, what in Thor’s name?” Astrid exclaimed, righting herself on the saddle.

Toothless warbled excitedly and pointed with his nose toward the foot pedals.

Astrid cocked an eyebrow. “You want to go for a flight. With me?”

Toothless grunted in response.

“Okay.” Astrid sighed, slipping her boots into the pedals, and preparing for launch. Maybe a few minutes in the air would clear her head. Toothless probably learned that from Hiccup. Since Astrid couldn’t ride Stormfly during the day, Toothless was the only mode of dragon transportation.

Astrid patted him on the side. “Let’s go.” With a little crouch and wiggle, Toothless shot into the sky.  

***

This was not how Astrid pictured her day going.

“Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile,” she grumbled, using Hiccup’s exact words for anything Toothless did to annoy him. Astrid was beyond annoyed by the Night Fury as he hopped down the branches when he left her there. Now, she was downright furious.

The tree’s branches swayed every time she attempted to move, and the axe strapped to her back made her off balance. She wasn’t afraid of heights or climbing trees, but she was in such an awkward location on the tree, if she tried to climb down, she could easily fall to her death.

What was Toothless thinking stranding her in a tree!? How in Thor’s name was she getting down? She wasn’t sure how long she was stranded when she heard the familiar swoop of wings, and she turned her head to see Toothless approaching, a gangly figure riding in the saddle. Astrid rolled her eyes. This was not her day.

Astrid yelped and clutched the branch she was teetering on with her thighs as the top of the tree bent over swiftly from Toothless’ weight.

“Astrid, what’s going on?” Hiccup asked from his safe perch atop his mutinous dragon.

“Ask your dragon,” she hissed out, glaring daggers at Toothless.

Hiccup leaned over to peer into one of Toothless’ large green eyes. “Did you leave Astrid up here?”

Toothless warbled sheepish.

Astrid growled. “Just get me down from here!”

“Grab my hand.” Hiccup urged Toothless to inch closer, and he stretched out his hand for her.

Astrid fought the urge to smack it away, but she was too far away to risk shimming across the branch without assistance. Her stomach burned at the thought of needing help with something as simple of getting out of a tree.

Hiccup’s hold was firm as he steadied her to stand on the branch and climb on Toothless’ back. “You okay?” he asked as she straddled behind him.

“What do you think?” she snapped.

“Hang on,” Hiccup reminded her just before Toothless shot into the air.

***

“Toothless, what were thinking!?” Hiccup scolded, wasting no time when they hit the ground in the Cove. “Stranding Astrid in a tree? She could have fallen and died!”

Astrid paced from a distance, hugging her arms across her stomach, thankful to be on solid ground. Her knees were wobbly, and thighs burned from gripping the tree branch for so long. She didn’t notice Hiccup approaching her until he touched her shoulder from behind. She jerked, pivoting sharply to face him. Hiccup hung his head, avoiding her hard gaze.

“Astrid, I’m sorry.” Hiccup gulped loudly, fiddling with the back of his neck. “Toothless should have never done that to you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

The dragon in question stalked up to them, perching himself a short distance from them. He grunted, pointing his nose up in the air as if trying to tell them something. Then he turned his large eyes on Astrid as if he were pleading with her. She stared at him as her emotions buzzed through her body. It was then that it struck her.

He didn’t want them to fight. In Toothless’ own convoluted way, he was trying to get them to talk it through. Why he had to strand her in a tree for a couple hours angered her still, but she now understood his intentions and her fowl mood sobered.

Astrid sighed, heavily. “Why did you runaway again?”

Hiccup froze at her question, his hand midway in front of him. His raised features began to droop as his hand lowered. “My dad,” he murmured almost inaudibly.

Astrid shook her head, taking a step forward. “Hiccup,” she breathed out slowly, “you should have heard your dad talking about you. All that Gobber had filled him in on. He was so proud of all that you’d accomplished while he was gone.”

It was as if a dark shadow had suddenly rose between them. Hiccup’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, proud of Hiccup the ‘dragon killer’. He thinks I’m going to slay dragons alongside him. He thinks I want to chat casually about slicing off heads and cutting out hearts.” His fists clinched at his sides. “I knew nothing good would happen when he returned.”

“And you couldn’t face it?”

Hiccup nodded without speaking.

Astrid worried her bottom lip. She scrubbed her palms over her face, lost as to where even to start to deal with this situation. She knew some details of Hiccup’s strained relationship with his father but being aware of it and knowing how to deal with it were two different heads. There were no words of wisdom, no helpful advice to offer him. There was a life or death secret they were keeping stashed right inside Berk’s boundaries. A plan was being worked out to eliminate the most known dangerous threat to the Archipelago.

Hiccup stood there looking even smaller than he already was. He continued to avoid her eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Astrid’s heart sank like a stone. How could she be angry with him when the weight of their world was on his shoulders? She felt sorry and regretful for not considering all that they were facing. She’d learned in the past few months that Hiccup was stronger and braver than anyone on Berk knew to give him credit for, but sometimes the strong could be dragged down by the weight they were carrying. It was an Altas-sized burden on his thin shoulders.

Astrid swallowed the lump that had gathered in her throat. “Look, Hiccup. I know there’s a lot going on in that head of yours. I sometimes forget you handle situations differently than I would. But, please—” she stepped forward and he finally raised his eyes to cautiously meet hers, “please come to me about it. I don’t know what I could do or how I could help, but at least you won’t be alone.” She grasped his hand. “We may be kids trying to figure out how to navigate life, but we’re in this together.”

Hiccup shut his eyes tight. Without opening them, he hugged her, burying his face into her neck. Astrid hugged him tight against her, closing her own eyes and releasing a deep breath. They held each other for a long while until a snuffling nose invaded their space.

Astrid pulled away first, eying Toothless as he watched them. “I’m still mad at you,” she informed him and Toothless warbled out what sounded like an apology along with a lick to her arm.

She turned back to Hiccup, resting a palm on his chest. His hand slid around her waist as he watched her with his warm, green eyes.

“I promise – really promise -- I’ll come to you, talk to you about what’s going on in my head.” Hiccup let out a humorless laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess the last two days have been weird for me.”

“No matter how weird, come to me,” Astrid urged, sliding her hand to his shoulder.

Hiccup nodded. “I will.”

Astrid gave him a little smack on the shoulder, hoping her affirmation would stick in his brain this time. “Good.”

“Am I allowed back in the bedroom tonight?”

Astrid grabbed the collar of his tunic, yanking him into a kiss. She broke away with a pop and raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Zombie Outbreak Response Unit

AU-gust Day Five: Post-Apocalypse AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: Rumbelle

Rated: T

Summary: Caught up in the middle of an unexpected zombie apocalypse, Belle is rescued by an elite if unusual team: the Zombie Outbreak Response Unit. She quickly becomes close to their leader, the enigmatic Mr Gold.

Note: This is more ‘during-apocalypse’ than ‘post-apocalypse’ but enjoy nonetheless!

===

The Zombie Outbreak Response Unit

When Belle had first seen the advert in the local paper, she had not thought anything of it. She had assumed that someone had put it there for a dare or a prank, and she had left it alone.

When it appeared there again for the second week running, she took notice of it, clipping it out and storing it in her purse. She wasn’t sure why, because she still had no idea why she would ever use the service that was being advertised, but something about its persistence made her wonder. Better safe than sorry, after all.

Now, three weeks later, with the ad having appeared in every edition of the paper since, she knew exactly why she had kept it and exactly why it was there in the first place.

There had been reports on the news of strange occurrences for the past few days, but nothing weird could ever happen in a town as quiet and sleepy as Storybrooke, right? Mad, apocalyptic nightmares like, for example, zombie outbreaks, always started in big cities where they could spread quickly and easily.

Well, that was what Belle had thought until she had woken up this morning and started going about her daily life to realise that the rest of the town had been turned into the flesh-craving undead, and a crowd of them was now converging on the library that she lived above.

Never had she been so happy to have clipped out a newspaper ad on a hunch, as she sat huddled in her flat, looking at the barricaded door and listening to the moaning of the horde that was making its way ever closer, clutching at her phone in one hand and the cricket bat that her mother had insisted on her keeping under her bed in the other. The ad was on the table beside her, and it was with shaking fingers that she dialled the number. It couldn’t be a hoax or a prank, not when she really needed it.

In the event of being caught in a zombie apocalypse, call your local ZOMBIE OUTBREAK RESPONSE UNIT immediately. Our highly trained professionals are on call 24 hours a day to assist you.

The call was answered on the first ring.

“Zombie Outbreak Response Unit for Storybrooke and environs. My name is Emma. Are you in immediate danger from zombies?”

For a moment, Belle was completely struck dumb, amazed that it had worked.

“Hello, are you in immediate danger?”

“No,” she said eventually. “No, I’m barricaded in my apartment.”

“Ok. How many people in the property?”

“Just me.”

“Do you suffer from any medical conditions?”

“No.” Just overwhelming fear.

“We’re sending a team to your location. I’ll stay on the phone with you until they arrive. How easy is it for you to exit your property?”

“Well, I’ve got zombies coming up the front steps and up the fire escape… I guess I could jump out of the window.”

“No jumping will be required although we will probably get you out that way. Can you describe the zombies, are they fast or slow moving? Do they have the power of speech?”

The questions continued in this vein for a little while until Belle heard the rumbling of a large vehicle coming up the main street and Emma instructed her to open a window if it was safe to do so.

Opening her bedroom window, Belle had to gawp at the sight of a heavily armoured black van inching its way down the street, very slowly mowing down zombies as it went. At last it parked up below her, and a team of what appeared to be riot police in full SWAT gear jumped out of the back, setting up a defensive perimeter as one of their number extended a ladder up to Belle’s window and began to climb up.

“Hi!” The voice was female and remarkably chirpy considering the circumstances. “You must be Belle. I’m Ruby. Let’s get you out of here.”

Still shaking with fear and adrenaline, Belle let Ruby help her down the ladder and bundle her into the back of the van with the rest of her colleagues. For a very frightening few moments, Belle wondered if they were in fact government agents who, trying to cover up the fact that there had been a zombie outbreak in her town, were about to kill her and dispose of the evidence. Rationally, they probably would have just let her be eaten by zombies. Or firebombed the entire town with her still in it.

“Do you work for the government?” she hedged to Ruby.

“God no.” Ruby shook her head so vehemently that Belle thought her goggles would fly off. “No, we very much do not work for the government. They are absolutely not interested in saving people from zombie outbreaks. I’m so glad that you called us. We’d picked up some chatter that Storybrooke had been hit and we hoped that there were some survivors, and that they’d seen the ad and would call us before…”

A huge explosion rocked the van.

“…before the government did that,” Ruby finished.

Belle just sat in mute horror. There were no windows in the back of the van, but she knew that her theory about the town being firebombed to wipe out the evidence of the outbreak had just come terribly true.

There were several questions that Belle wanted to ask, ‘where are we going?’ being chief among them, but she couldn’t make her mouth form around the words. The masked figure sitting on the other side of her patted her shoulder awkwardly. It would probably have been less awkward had he not been armed to the teeth with more anti-zombie implements than Belle could name.

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s always a shock when it happens. We’ve all been through it.”

The rest of the journey was made in silence, and when the van stopped and the doors opened again, Belle found herself in the middle of what appeared to be a disused aircraft hangar, filled with crates stamped ZORU in large letters. She pinched herself, but it was definitely not a dream. She had just been saved from the zombie apocalypse by what appeared to be a private army.

“What… How…” She looked around her new surroundings in disbelief.

“We’ll explain everything later,” Ruby said. “There are a few things you have to do first though.”

The few things turned out to be a decontamination shower and a full medical exam from a cheerful little nurse in heavy-duty hazmat gear named Astrid, who took off her helmet and gave her a huge hug after proclaiming her not to be infected. Having been sourced some clothes that were not a hospital gown, Belle emerged from the medical room into the Zombie Outbreak Response Unit headquarters.

“Hi!”

She jumped out of her skin at the voice, turning to see a tall woman with bright red streaks in her hair.

“It’s Ruby,” she said, holding out a hand. “Now that we’re not in quite such life-threatening circumstances, I think introductions are in order.” She sighed. “It’s quite rare for us to find survivors. Hardly anyone takes our adverts seriously and I can’t say I blame them. Zombies aren’t exactly an everyday occurrence for most people and since the government just blows them all up every time, no one really knows the danger.”

Ruby led her down a corridor into what was obviously the nerve centre of the unit. They were evidently a rather small outfit, but they were meticulously fitted out. A large table was set up in the centre of the room, and there was a control desk with several screens and phone at one end, manned by a young blonde woman in earphones.

“Everyone, this is Belle, Belle, this is, well… everyone.”

Belle looked around the table. The five others she assumed were the rest of the team who had rescued her with Ruby. The blonde at the control desk waved distractedly over her shoulder, that must be Emma who’d taken her call. Astrid rushed into the room and took a seat beside the older man at the head of the table. He had greying hair and dark eyes, and a cane rested on the arm of his chair.

“Mulan, Neal, Jeff, David and Mary Margaret. You’ve met Astrid, you’ve spoken to Emma, and this is Mr Gold, the mastermind of the entire operation.”

The older man held out a hand, which Belle shook before taking the vacant seat that Ruby waved her into. “Welcome to the Unit, Belle. We may only be small, but we do what we can.”

Emma took off her headphones and turned in her wheelie chair; Belle could immediately see why she was the one handling the phones as she rubbed her very pregnant tummy.

“All the government channels are reporting no survivors, we’re in the clear.”

“I have to ask,” Belle began, “what happens to me now?”

“Well, you’ve got a choice,” Gold said. “We can arrange for you to travel to a safe colony for survivors that’s been set up in Seattle, or you can stay here and become part of the unit.”

“We need as much help as we can get.” Jeff was the one to speak, and Belle recognised his voice as the man who’d spoken to her in the van. “It’s up to you, of course.”

“You’re welcome to stay for a few days whilst you make your mind up.” Astrid smiled. “I love it when we have visitors. I need to bake! This is a situation that calls for cupcakes.”

Jeff shook his head with a sigh of mock despair. “Only Astrid could be concerned with frosting and sprinkles in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, but that’s what we love about her.”

Belle didn’t pay much attention to the banter as the unit debriefed from their excursion to rescue her. She couldn’t exactly go back to the life that she’d led before; it was a smoking ruin in the middle of the Maine coastline. Getting as far away as possible sounded like a very inviting prospect, and she couldn’t deny that Seattle was certainly very far away. On the other hand, she couldn’t help wanting to know more about the people whom providence had thrown her in with here.

It took her a moment to realise that the talk had stopped, and everyone was filing out of the room.

“Come on, Belle.” Ruby was standing by the door, waiting for her. “I’ll give you the tour.”

There wasn’t a lot to be seen on the tour, really. The place was a large converted barn, the main area housing the van and all the myriad zombie fighting equipment, and the rest of the building partitioned off into living space.

“You’ll be bunking with Astrid whilst you make your decision,” Ruby explained, showing her into a small room with two beds. One half of the room was a riot of pink and stuffed animals and twinkling fairy lights, and it made Belle smile to see it. Even though it wasn’t her style at all, it was good to see that there was fun and life and personality in the otherwise purely functional building.

All the same, Belle was still having trouble believing that all this was happening and that the zombie apocalypse was underway, much less that she was in the headquarters of the only people who cared about rescuing their fellow humans from said apocalypse, and indeed, she was having a bit of trouble believing that such people even existed in the first place.

“How did this place even come to be?” she asked, once they were back in the main living area. Neal and Emma were there too, and it was clear that they were together. It was nice to see love blooming in adversity.

“Well, you’d have to ask Gold what possessed him to start prepping for the zombie apocalypse. He’s the one who got it off the ground, well, him and Neal. Father-son zombie hunter team.”

“I honestly never thought I’d see the day when Dad’s zombie apocalypse obsession paid off,” Neal said, “but I’m very glad that it did.”

“Anyway,” Ruby continued, “he spent years slowly building up an arsenal and now we’re here today. Apart from Gold, Neal, and Emma, we all came here in the same way as you did – we sensibly called the helpline number and got ourselves rescued.”

“Oh.” It saddened Belle to think that so many of them had lost everything.

“It’s ok.” Ruby patted her shoulder as if she could tell what Belle was thinking. “It’s not all bleak. My granny got out with me; she’s in the safe zone now with Jeff’s daughter and Mulan’s uncle. Sometimes we manage to save quite a few households. There are scientists working in Seattle looking at the causes and triggers and identifying all the different strains of zombie-ism. We’re getting more informed and better at fighting them every day, and we’re all certain that there’s a cure out there somewhere.” She paused. “I know it feels wrong to be positive about it all, and you’re probably feeling about as far from positive as possible right now considering that your home just went up in smoke, but I promise that there is light at the end of the tunnel.”

Belle was very grateful for Ruby’s hug.

X

Two days later, Belle made the decision to stay.

She was in the control room when it happened. Gold had been telling her the next chapter in the tale of what made him start the response unit. He’d been happy to tell her when she had asked, but it was a long story, and he was having to give it in instalments in amongst all of his strategic planning and his many phone calls with the leaders of the other units around the country. They hadn’t even got to the part of the story which involved the ZORU branching out into different states yet.

Neal was at the monitoring desk this time, and everything had been nice and quiet until an alarm started going off on one of his screens.

“We’ve got a new cluster. Newport this time.”

Belle went over and peered over his shoulder at the scrolling lines of government and web chatter as Gold settled into the seat beside him and began typing. Everything was talking about a zombie outbreak in Newport. Belle didn’t want to think about how they had access to all this information, but she couldn’t deny that she was glad they did.

“Everyone stand by, we have a new active cluster.” Neal’s voice echoed through the PA system around the building and Belle heard running footsteps as the others raced to their stations. Neal left Gold in charge of the comms as he went to get ready himself.

“We won’t go out unless we get a call,” Gold explained as he continued to monitor the situation. “There’s no point in sending the team out into danger unless we know that there’s a possibility we can save someone.”

It was then that the bright red telephone on the desk began to ring with shrill urgency.

“Zombie Outbreak Response Unit for Storybrooke and environs, my name is Aiden, are you in immediate danger from zombies?”

Belle could only watch in stunned and fearful silence as Gold guided the caller through the same questions that Emma had asked her, at the same time despatching the team and pulling up all kinds of metrics on the computer. On one screen, she could see several camera shots from the van and the team’s body armour as they pounded down the roads towards Newport. Her heart was beating painfully in her mouth at the thought of the danger that they were willingly putting themselves in, and she could only imagine what it must be like for Gold, knowing that his son was going into the fray.

He glanced sideways at her. She had so much admiration for the way he could stay so calm on the phone with the caller, and she had a hugely newfound admiration for Emma, knowing that she had been in just the same nerve-wracking position whilst taking Belle’s own call and watching her boyfriend heading out to save her.

“Ok, we’re here, we can see the survivors.” Neal’s voice came over the internal comms and Gold acknowledged.

“Ok, if you look out of the window you should see the team,” he said to the caller. “Can you confirm to me that you can see them?” He listened to the muffled voice on the other end. “Ok, you’re in safe hands now, I’ll leave you with the team.”

The call ended and Gold could give his full attention to the control screens. Belle watched the camera footage with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. There were more survivors this time, and Jeff and Ruby were shepherding them towards working vehicles whilst the others covered the exits. She screamed as David was caught by a pair of walkers, his camera going offline.

“David!” Gold was half in and half out of his seat, fingers clutching his cane with white knuckles. “David, report!”

“I’m ok!” David sounded winded, and then Emma saw him getting to his feet on Mary Margaret’s video feed as she ran to help him. “I’m ok, I took them out, but my camera’s shot.”

Gold sank back into his chair with a sigh of relief, but Belle couldn’t release the tension thrumming through her veins until everyone was safely back in the van and they were driving away from the town with the survivors in convoy. Once they were en route, she chanced to take another look at Gold. He was leaning back in his chair, looking satisfied with a job well done, but just as exhausted with fear as she felt.

“Do you get scared when they go out?” she asked.

“Every single time.” He paused. “It does help, having someone else here.”

Belle smiled, her heartrate finally beginning to return to normal, and Gold smiled back. There was something a little shy in the expression, and she had to wonder.

Once the survivors had been brought back to the base and undergone due process, it was decided that they would head straight out to the Seattle safe zone. Three households had been saved, too many people for them to house in the unit headquarters, and there was a general air of jubilation around the place that they had managed to rescue eight people in one go.

Jefferson, who was heading out to Seattle to see his daughter anyway, was going to act as an escort for the long drive, and he came over to Belle.

“If you want to go to Seattle, this is probably the best time to come,” he said.

Belle looked around at the rest of the group who were wishing the survivors well on their way. David and Mary Margaret, Emma and Neal, Mulan and Ruby. Astrid bouncing up and down and around.

And Gold, standing alone, a little apart from the rest, happy at having been able to help save lives and needing no gratitude for it. He caught her eye, tilting his head as if to question. Are you going?

Belle shook her head.

“Thank you, Jeff, but I think I’ll stick around. You’ll need someone to man the phones when Emma goes on maternity leave, after all.”

Jefferson gave her a hug.

“Stay safe,” he whispered to her. “And for what it’s worth, I reckon you’re definitely in with a chance there.”

They both looked over at Gold, who turned away with an embarrassed cough. Belle couldn’t help but laugh.

“Take care of them, Jeff,” she said. “And of yourself, of course. And say hi to Grace for me. Well, she has no idea who I am, so maybe not. You know what I mean.”

“Of course.” He bowed low before going to take his seat in the convoy of cars that would be heading out west. Everyone gathered to wave them off, and Belle found herself going over to Gold at the back of the group.

“So, you’re staying then?”

Belle nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

Gold smiled. “Absolutely. I’m certain that you’ll fit right in. Welcome to the Zombie Outbreak Response Unit, Belle.”

“I still can’t get used to the fact that it exists, let alone the fact that it’s needed.” Belle sighed. It was going to be a strange new life, but one in which, hopefully, she could make a difference to the world. And perhaps to one person in particular.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” Gold said. “I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but I would miss you if you were to leave.”

“I would miss you, too. After all, you still haven’t told me the rest of the unit’s history yet. I couldn’t miss that.”

Gold looked at the rest of the team gathered in the hangar. “We could always resume the tale now if you want. Get away from this lot of rabble rousers.”

Belle laughed at the description. Considering how few of them there were, they were making an inordinate amount of noise. She didn’t mind at all, and she knew that Gold didn’t either. In these times, every little victory ought to be celebrated, and this was more than a little victory.

Still, it would be nice to have some time with Gold without a crisis looming over their heads.

“I’d like that,” she said, and she took his arm when he offered it to her, leading her out of the hangar and into the main living area, settling on the sofa.

He didn’t begin to speak, and for a long time, they both just looked at each other. Belle worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Would it be too forward to just go for it? They’d only known each other for a couple of days, like Gold had said, but Belle knew that there was something there, and there had been something there from practically the first moment that they had spoken to each other properly, and Gold had begun to tell his tale.

She took the plunge, leaning in closer and feeling a huge inward sigh of relief when Gold did the same, meeting her halfway in a soft, tentative kiss.

Belle broke away, looking into his eyes, and on finding only encouragement there, she went back in for another kiss. Gold’s hands came up to cup her face, and she smiled against his mouth.

“I’m so glad that you didn’t go,” Gold breathed once they finally broke apart again. “Thank you for staying.”

Belle pecked her lips to his again. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

Maybe it was a little too soon and they were moving a little too fast, but the times they were living in were dangerous, and they had to make the most of all the opportunities they had, just like all the causes for celebration. This was not a time for holding back. This was a time for living.

[tysonrunningfox]

Crown Loyal: Part 5

It’s Princecup but it has a kitschy name now I will not be stopped (but I had to write the chapter in comic sans so if it’s bad it’s because I made a deal with the devil)

Ao3 

“Are you coming?”  Hiccup asks, and as much as she wants to impose Prince Haddock over him, especially in the ostentatious car after a day of him flashing a credit card in some shade of obsidian she hadn’t known existed until she saw Fishlegs pull one out one day to rent a tank for an exhibition, he’s still just Hiccup right now.

Dangerously Hiccup.  His hair ruffled from trying on a dozen stupid suits, sleeves rolled up his forearms, hand working anxiously on the stick shift.  The most princely thing about him is his expression, a placid, friendly one she recognizes from balls and galas where he’s playing a part, and that makes her more nervous than any security threat she’s ever heard. 

“Or, you know, you could just wait in the car and if there happens to be a kidnapper hiding inside and waiting to sell some royal body parts on the black market.” 

“We haven’t had any threats about that.” She rolls her eyes, and it’s worse because he’s right, and she’s never seen the hunting lodge before and that long buried royal curiosity is bubbling in her chest. 

He pauses, drumming his hands on the steering wheel, and she wishes she hadn’t put down her gun, because it’s comforting weight against her back helps her remember that she’s working. 

“Spit it out, what are we doing here?” 

“Can I take your gun to protect myself?”  He winces even as he asks, leaning over like he’s going to grab the weapon from where it rests by her feet, and she stops him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“No.” 

For the first time in their less than professional working relationship, that seems to be the answer he wants, and he leans a little closer, just close enough to remind her how tiny the cab of his sports car is. 

“Probably best, my dad would kill me if I shot one of his tapestries in self-defense.”  He laughs at his own unfunny joke and she shoves him back to his own side of the car, wincing when the buckle of her watch scrapes against the leather seat.  “Hey, sports cars and heirs can be replaced, but not medieval dragon hunting tapestries.” 

“Where’s your sweater?” She unbuckles her seatbelt, “I’ll just grab it for you.” 

“And leave me unprotected?”  He grins, predicting her answer and getting out of the car before he even hears her muttered ‘no’.  He gets the door open before she can make sense of the glossy handles, and offers her his hand, too hopeful for her to shove it away.  Plus, the car is really low to the ground and he did take her on a long enough ride for her to get stiff, and she hates her own excuses and the fact that she hasn’t quit, or something. 

But if she quit, who would protect him? 

No one she trusts as much as herself. 

The realization is a bitter inevitability as she reaches back for her radio, doing her best to ignore the all too recognizably impatient sound in his throat as he tries to stop her. 

“Fishlegs might need me.”  She tugs her hand from his, fingers immediately clammy, and gestures towards the front door with an hand uncertain under the lack of weight from its lack of weapons. 

“Not very good service up here.”  His bouncy shrug is as hollow as the rest of his expression and she hates how she wants to fill the space he’s missing.  She hates how sometimes he feels like a worthy crown and she’d be ok with being absorbed.  It makes her push back harder against everything he shouldn’t be. 

Much like the stories that allegedly take place within them, fairytale castles aren’t and never have been real. 

The confusion between castles and palaces has always infuriated Astrid, mostly because of her military history education.  Of course, some building with a giant, manicured lawn instead of a moat and rows upon rows of glistening first floor windows isn’t a defensive structure. Castles were damp stone on rocky hills, and while she did enjoy visiting some of Berk’s most famous ruins, it was from a historical, tactical standpoint.  Back when she was a private hoping to prove herself, she thought about what it would have been like to be at one of those battles up on those crags, to help.  What she could have done to sway the outcome. 

Private Hofferson would be wildly disappointed at how she’s faring in her current battle.  The battle she shouldn’t be fighting. 

When she first got her job at the palace, the concept of a fairy tale dropped even further from her realm of possibility.  The palace is, on the surface, glamorous and historic and royal, but its security system undercuts every part of that, weaving between the layers of tradition to supply a modern safety net.  Bullet proof glass carefully installed in windows framed by two-hundred-fifty year old plaster, steel shutters hidden under the ornate valences outside.  Modern electricity routed through ancient walls to cameras and outlets and wireless internet.  Wired connections to military involvement. 

A glossy bunker meant to keep relics safe, like a museum. 

A museum where Astrid is a display case. 

“The summer house,” Hiccup is awkward as he opens the front door with a sleek key on his sleek sports car keychain, completely at odds with the heavy, ancient door that creaks open with a poof of dust.  “Or hunting lodge, if your general frame has the heat capacity of a nuclear power plant.” 

He laughs, and it’s nasal until he steps inside, where the echo in the ancient foyer turns the sound regal. 

The room is rich, dusty wood, a fireplace at the opposite end closed off by a small but ornate cast gate.  The tapestry on the wall is covered by protective plastic, glazed with a season’s dust, but it’s still beautiful, hand-woven and ornate, a demonstration of devotion to power. 

But more than that, it’s real.  Protected, for when it will be useful, but real.  Real construction, real rugs that smell mothy, real paneling that smells like carved cedar.  Walls that dampen sound outside and make her believe that this is another world, a safer world, a world where she doesn’t have to think about what’s outside of the walls. 

Her radio gives a burst of static that threatens to ruin the moment. 

“None of the rooms have full power, of course, no internet in the whole place.  I used to hate coming here as a kid until…wait, I still kind of hate it because it’s me being shut in with nothing but my dad and Gobber—”

“Stop,” she says. 

Her voice echoes, a little too loud, the old walls absorbing it and shouting it back. 

If she were someone else, her fairy tale would look like this. 

She would stumble upon a royal residence and be accepted.  Or no, acclimated. 

This is a life that seems livable.  Old wooden walls, tapestries painting her countries history.  A life that feels more real than the glitz at the palace. 

She pauses in front of a painting of King Hiccup the Second with a handsome gray horse.  The resemblance is undeniable but more reminiscent of Hiccup’s prince-face than his actual expressions and she looks at him before she can help it. 

He’s staring at her, hesitant like princes aren’t, biting his lip, hand in his pocket. 

“What?”  She wishes she sounded harsher, but it’s hard when he’s so close and, as much as her patriotic pride doesn’t like to admit, vulnerable.  He feels like an emblem of this place, of Berk. 

And so much more. 

“I’m just here to get my sweater.”  He points down the hall, leading, and she says the word she never thought he’d want her to. 

“No.” 

“You get to tell me when I’m being stupid, not when I’m cold,” he laughs, grabbing her hand and trying to lead her down a hallway that might be cozy if it weren’t so dark. 

“Hiccup,” she says quietly as she jerks her hand free and he fumbles for her fingers again in the dangerous dark, “Prince Haddock.” 

He stops short, shoulders rigid enough that they tense the crisp fabric of his expensive shirt.  It fits him well, she notes, too well.  Or just well enough, given how far out of her depth she is, amidst all the old royalty haunting these halls.  

“Don’t.” 

“How—”

“Not now, not when I’m…” He exhales before facing her, face determined in the waning light through the ceiling length windows facing into the courtyard. 

Trusting windows. 

If anyone is in your courtyard, the battle is already over. 

“When you’re what?”  She knows the answer.  She knows the answer is easy for him and hard for her and more obvious for all of it.  She knows how much she likes his long warm fingers on her upper arms and she knows how alone they are and for the moment, in this ancient, storied castle, how dangerous it isn’t. 

This could be theirs for right now. 

“Not when I’m confessing.” 

“Isn’t the Chapel on the West side?” 

He kisses her.  Clumsy and urgent and determined to sweep her off of her feet and maybe she wants him to.  Here.  Where anyone would be willing to succumb to a prince. Where royalty feels real, between safe, heavy walls. 

“I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever asked for,” he whispers as he kisses down her neck, fingers curling around her arms as he pushes her back into a plastic covered tapestry that she wouldn’t shoot if her life depended on it. 

His though. 

“Charming.”  She goes to push him away but her fingers curl in his shirt, entirely out of sync with her determination to keep her job. 

“It’s not,” he pulls up, kissing her nose on the way and igniting a hot curl of something fond and real in her chest, “it’s obnoxious.” 

“Both.”  She consigns herself to it, for a second, her radio heavy on her hip as she pulls him closer to her, heel around his calf.  And he feels right, like he did the other times.  And she reaches for this to feel wrong, like it did before. 

The castle wall is cold and Hiccup’s hand are warm where they carefully untuck her shirt like its cheap fabric is anything like the priceless tapestry behind them. 

“No,” he whispers, peppering too sweet kisses across her cheek even as his hands clamp on her ribs, almost hard enough, “no.” 

“Ok,” she goes to shove him off, glad that for once he was the one to find his senses, but he rests his forehead on her shoulder, breathing hard, his hair tickling the side of her neck. 

“I wanted to talk to you.”  He laughs to himself over some joke that wasn’t worth telling, “but we—this is why—”

“You’re right.”  She disagrees with everything about his tone, pushing him away from her with trembling hands, attempting to dismiss everything comforting about the heavy stone walls around her.  “We shouldn’t.” 

They’re defensive, sure, but modernity is useful too.  No cameras.  No warnings.  Nothing to hide from.  Nowhere to hide. 

“I’m never right if it keeps you away from me,” he says it, all at once, like buying a sports car.  Like it means nothing and everything.  Like he doesn’t understand how impossible that is to respond to, especially when there’s no one listening. 

Astrid has thought about dying for Prince Haddock.  About taking a bullet.  About jumping in front of an attacker’s knife. 

But she’s never contemplated protecting his heart. 

As always, protecting herself wasn’t part of the equation, and she thinks of his portrait at the academy.  She thinks of him in the barn, hay in his hair.  Of him puffing out to fit shoes that don’t feel quite right and how it’s the only time that admitting doubt and fear has ever seemed brave. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking me for.”  She sticks to the truth, because it’s the only thing that could ever compete with heavy walls. 

“I do,” he nods, eyes bright in the darkness, hands softening against her, voice filling the room like it belongs in every corner, like he feels the walls as part of him. 

“Hiccup—”

“Everything,” his smile is wincing, like he just dealt a blow that he wishes he didn’t have to, “I know I’m asking for everything.” 

“You really are obnoxious,” she laughs under her breath, crumbling like a palace under siege as she hits his shoulder with the back of her hand, not bothering to push him away. 

It wouldn’t work.  She doesn’t want it to and she’s never been good at lying to herself. 

“Don’t forget horribly spoiled.”  His knee notches between hers as he bumps his nose against hers.  “Bratty is one I’ve heard a few times.  Uncompromising.”

“I did say I’d help with that,” she lets her arms wrap around his neck and her chest feels lighter even as her stomach churns under the lack of cameras to keep her in line. 

Influence should be added to the Haddock crest alongside honor and glory, because she never needed reminders of the rules before he came into her life. 

“Too late.”  He grins like he knows he’s won something, “I’m a lost cause.” 

“You know I don’t believe that, or I wouldn’t try so hard to keep you alive.” 

His jaw drops, faking offended, and she laughs even though there’s no going back now.  The door clicking shut doesn’t sound enough like a dungeon to make her pause, even though she’s seen the gilded cage snap shut across Hiccup’s expression more than enough times to respect it. 

“Here I thought you did that because you liked me.”  He seems to weigh the statement for a second, “and it’s your job.”  ‘Job’ is a dirty word surrounded by so much history and duty. 

“I could ask for a transfer.”  She lets her fingers tangle in the too long hair at the back of his neck.  “Snotlout can’t seem to keep a guard around for more than a few weeks, I’m sure Fishlegs would be glad for a break finding replacements.” 

“No,” he frowns, “I like that you’re obligated to spend so much time with me.” 

“There has to be a compromise here.” 

“I don’t trust anyone else.” 

“Someone else kept you alive for twenty four years.” 

“And look at me, a spoiled, uncompromising, obnoxious brat.”  He leans down to whisper in her ear like he’s keeping a secret from the walls, “you were committed to helping me with that, unless you’re a quitter, in which case—”

“Hiccup.”  She doesn’t want him to go there, to use that voice that makes everything sound so easy, like he can snap his fingers and summon the solution on a silver platter.  “We…have to be better about hiding it, ok?  No one can know, we can’t disappear together for hours on end—”

“I know I’m an embarrassment, but you can’t tour the crown jewel gallery if you’re too proud to be seen with me,” he nudges his hips against hers, missing the point with deft intention and she cups his chin, forcing him to look at her with stern fingers. 

“You can’t get everything you want.”  She lets her thumb brush across his lip and his tongue darts out after it as his eyes flick down. 

“Keeping a secret around the most highly monitored properties in Berk,” he kisses her, pulling back just far enough to murmur against her lips, “could be fun.” 

“Great.”  She grins, tugging on his hair just enough to stop him from distracting her further.  “We should get back.” 

“But we haven’t gotten my sweater yet,” he ignores her hold on his hair and kisses her jaw, “from my quarters…” His breath is warm on her neck as his hands migrate back to the buttons on her shirt, “my imaginary sweater that I made up so that we could finally talk.” 

“We’ve been gone for hours, I have to get back.” 

“We’ve already been gone for hours,” he pushes his birthright bundled luck, “what’s a couple more?”  He gets a button open and strokes her lower stomach, grinning against her cheek when she shivers.  “Plus, I feel so safe here.  More than normal.  You’re doing an excellent job—”

Her radio crackles to life with a shockingly loud burst of static before Fishlegs’ unusually panicked voice pours out into dark. 

“Rumblehorn has been compromised.  I repeat, Rumblehorn has been compromised.  All available units report immediately.” 

[aleteia-ff]

A Decade To Find You - 3

Also Read On: AO3 | FF.net

Thank you everyone for the support! Unfortunately, school started again, so this update came in a bit later, but I'm definitely finishing this story! My current expectation is that it will end at 5 chapters, perhaps 4. This one turned out a lot longer than I'd anticipated, hence me coming back from my earlier estimate of 3 chapters!

I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Astrid didn't think much of the guy she bumped into just after midnight on January 1, 2010. It was just a hasty apology, a quip and a lop-sided grin from his side. It wasn't supposed to be special.Hiccup felt the same way. That was, until he locked eyes with her again one year later. And the year after that. And the next.But somehow, their destinies only seemed to intertwine that one night a year... On New Year's Eve.

Hiccstrid, New Year’s Eve Fic. Spanning the entire past decade.

Chapter 3: New Year’s Eve 2016

December 31st, 2016

Life came with a lot of difficult choices. Hiccup knew that all too well. Batman, Superman, or simply admitting that the DCEU, especially after Suicide Squad, didn't quite hold a candle to the MCU? It was a shame, really. He'd always loved Batman, had reread many of his old comics since 2014, even saw the humour in George Clooney's Batnipples. But perhaps Justice League would prove everyone wrong in 2017. Hopefully.

At least it hadn't been difficult to choose between Team Cap and Team Iron Man. As much as he adored Spider-Man, his father's opinion was simply more important. And Steve Rogers was their guy.

He felt silly to be spending energy on those dilemmas, but after all the shit he'd been through, it was a breath of fresh air to be worried about stuff that was simple. To have his life on the rails, to no longer be forced to sort through his father's will and figure out how to handle all the insurance and ownership documents. He'd even felt comfortable enough to go and study abroad, having spent the best part of the last half year in Melbourne while Gobber, Snotlout and Uncle Spite took care of what was now his house.

Uncle Spite had told him that it was fine if Hiccup wanted to sell it, that he would find a trustworthy real estate agent who got him his money's worth. It would allow Hiccup to buy an apartment in Hopeless, closer to university, and leave Berk and all the painful memories there behind.

He'd seriously considered the change of scenery, because of course it was difficult to forget what had happened when so many people around him knew. Not just the small family that remained. But also Mrs. Ack from down the street, who kept bringing him leftovers, because his thin frame had led her to assume he wasn't feeding himself properly. The Bog family, who lived a few houses away and whose eldest daughter, Camicazi, frequently stole his garbage bags long and put them at the side of the street for the truck to pick up. Everyone knew what had happened to him, and wanted to do their utmost best to support him. He didn't need it, and had told them to stop several times, painfully elated and awkward, rubbing the back of his head so hard he was surprised he hadn't gone bald yet. But Berkians were stubborn, and persisted nevertheless.

And the more time he'd spent in Australia, the more he'd started to miss Berk. He didn't know what it was about the town that had been his family's home for seven generations. But the moment he'd set foot in it again after returning from the other side of the world, it had simply felt like home. And for now, he had no intention to leave.

He didn't know what it was, exactly. Tuffnut and Ruffnut weren't around much, their band now touring the country and only returning as a service to Gruffnut, who had given them the necessary spotlight by booking them last New Year's Eve - although the way the twins told the story, it was Gruffnut who owed them, not the other way around. Fishlegs was studying at the Hopeless Institute of Technology - the name of which was a HIT with students in exam weeks - like him, so Berk wasn't where they saw each other most. Hiccup had grown closer to Snotlout however, some of his cousin's obnoxiousness having faded after his father passed away. Or it was simply being channelled into the roles he played with Berk's local musical theatre company.

Still, Hiccup felt something was keeping him in Berk. He didn't mind it, not in the slightest, it felt good, like he'd finally found a fragment of inner peace. But he didn't know what it was exactly.

And he didn't have time to think about it, since a voice snapped him out of his tragically derailed train of thought.

"What's on the menu?"

He had only heard it one time before, seven years ago. Yet he recognised it immediately.

He turned his head, looking right into the beautiful blue eyes of the woman next to him. He had to look down at her now, unlike on the first day of 2010, but felt incredibly tiny nevertheless. He'd thought he'd blown it when she'd fled from him last year, having rejected her himself the year before that one. But here she was, smiling at him with a teasing smirk on her face and making the ground underneath his feet disappear, sending him into a free fall.

"Hey - uh - hey -" He laughed sheepishly when he finally remembered how to form words, rubbing the back of his head, and her grin only widened. "Hi," he concluded more sternly, as if it would miraculously make up for his earlier stammering.

She bit her lower lip, laughing still and making his insides contract because he'd thought she couldn't look cuter, a dark blue beanie pulled over her ears, but of course she kept surprising him. "Hey."

For all the times he'd imagined spending time with her, he now realised he'd put embarrassingly little effort into what exactly he would say to her when the stars finally aligned.

There were a million thing he could say, but now that he had the chance, he couldn't come up with anything. His eyes flicked back to the wooden stall in front of him, to the choice he'd been trying to make, and he finally realised that she had already asked him a question he still had to answer.

"All of this is on the menu," he told her, widely gesturing at the space in front of him, a holiday market stall selling all kinds of New Year's treats and drinks from around the world. "I don't even know half of it, but I figured I should try something."

"How about you let me pick?" she proposed. "And I'll pay for it too, in case it's horrible."

"Only if you have it with me," he smiled, her smirk contagious. "And let me buy you a drink in return."

"Deal," she nodded, instantly stepping forward to examine the shop's showcase, her brows furrowing as she focused. Occasionally, she made an adorable sound when she not-so-silently judged the different kinds of food, and Hiccup found himself staring at her, cherishing the moment.

Because she hadn't disappeared yet.

He quickly pretended to be studying the sign that listed the available drinks when she glanced over her shoulder, shooting him another smile.

"Glühwein?" he asked, his voice shooting up as if he'd gone straight back to puberty.

"Nah." She shook her head, looking away from a moment. "I don't drink." She paused before adding: "Not anymore."

"I can respect that," he nodded, thinking back to the times he'd seen her considerably less sober. Despite only catching a glimpse of her, he was sure just last year had been one of those. And he couldn't deny that while he respected anyone enough to let them make their own decisions, she hadn't looked as well as she'd done the years before. As if there had been a little less light in her otherwise bright eyes.

She pulled up an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, gesturing at his head. "Hangovers suck. Kills your brain too. And booze doesn't even always taste as good as people pretend it does."

"I'm glad you agree," she hummed.

"You make it sound like I'm special."

She took him in for a moment, as if she was seizing him up. "I guess you are. Most of my friends at university disagreed."

"Seems like you need better friends."

"Which is why I'm here." Her lips settled back into a smile. "And I think you still owe me a mug of hot chocolate."

He couldn't help but grin. "Sounds like a plan."

He ordered two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top while Hot Chocolate Girl - her name, he had to ask for her name - picked out a snack she liked. They walked away from the stall with what she laughingly informed him were called 'Dutch doughnuts' - huge balls of deep fried dough with raisins in them, covered in about a pound of powdered sugar.

He asked her if she wanted to sit down.

"Of course," was her simple answer.

They zigzagged through the crowd, her leading so he wouldn't lose sight of her - not again - until they reached one of the market's squares. He thanked the Gods Luktuk had gotten spiteful and had organised its own winter market this year. Meaning it was a lot less busy and that there were actually some free spots. He had already started to dread the prospect of having to go and sit back with Snotlout. Not that Snot wasn't good company, but from the corner of his eye he could easily see his cousin, already sufficiently drunk, draw Barney Stinson's hot-crazy scale in the air, challenging Fishlegs and the twins to determine where Hot Chocolate Girl would land.

So much for Snotlout losing some of his obnoxiousness.

They sat down across from each other at one of the wooden picnic tables, and for a moment, Hiccup felt himself caught in how unreal the situation felt. He had thought of this girl for years, imagined what she might be like, chased by the notion that seeing her every year on one specific day couldn't be a coincidence. And now he had the chance to confirm that suspicion.

He laughed at himself for his superstition. He had no idea if she even had the same ideas about him. But she chuckled, too, and their eyes met again.

"What's your name?" he asked, curling his fingers around his mug.

"Astrid. Astrid Hofferson." She - Astrid - slowly moved her spoon, mixing the cream into the hot chocolate. "You?"

He blinked, somewhere surprised that she didn't know it already. That he had forgotten that she knew as little about him as he did about her. "I'm -"

He was going to offer her the formal introduction he gave any stranger. But that didn't feel right.

"People call me Hiccup."

Astrid - such a pretty name - pulled up her eyebrow. "Hiccup?"

"It's a nickname," he shrugged. "People close to me have been calling me that for as long as I've known. I was quite small as a kid." He held out his hand next to the table, at the same height his hip would now be. "Dad called me a little Hiccup, and it stuck. First with my cousin, who was in the same class as me in elementary school… And you know how kids are."

"Assholes," she noted.

"Definitely."

She reached for her pocket, whisking out her phone. She bit her lower lip as she started to type. "Are you Hiccup on Facebook too?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "No, I actually don't have Facebook. Nor Instagram. Or Snapchat."

"Whoa. What century did you come from?"

"I'm not much of a social media guy," he tried to explain. "Not a fan of Mark Zuckerberg getting his hands on all my data."

"Yeah, he is a bit of a creep," Astrid nodded. "Shame I can't go without Messenger."

"Call me old-fashioned, but I can give you my number instead," he proposed. "I do have WhatsApp."

She frowned. "Didn't Facebook buy WhatsApp like two years ago?"

"Just an introduction to how consistent my principles are," he quipped.

"At least you have some. I'm just a regular sell-out." She swiped around on her phone for a moment, before handing it to him. She had opened a new contact, the name already filled out.

"Fake Foot Guy?" he laughed.

"It's not much worse of a nickname than 'Hiccup'," she shot back.

She'd had a nickname for him too. "Can't argue with that."

He typed his number into her phone and handed it back to her, feeling awfully giddy at how easy it was to talk to her. Astrid tucked it back into her jeans, and pointed at the curious snack in front of her. "After you."

"Whoa, Astrid," he objected, putting his hands up in the air. "You picked it out."

"Fine, I'll be the brave one," she joked, and lifted the doughnut, making a toast with it. "Bon appetit."

She took a bite, looking pensive as she chewed calmly before finally publishing her verdict. "It's not too bad, actually."

Encouraged, he began to eat as well, taking a big bite to show he wasn't a coward.

"You're right, not as bad as it looks."

"You doubted me?"

"Not even for a second."

She shook her head at him, working the rest of the doughnut down with impressive speed. She propped her head up on her hand as she waited for him to finish, playfully cocking her head and tapping her fingers on the table while grinning to herself.

"Hey, at least I'm taking the time to enjoy my food," he defended himself.

"Oh, that's now why I'm laughing," Astrid grinned. "You just have some sugar on your face."

"Where?"

Astrid gestured to her own face, drawing a circle in the air. "Everywhere."

Way to make an impression, Haddock. He hastily grabbed his napkin, but when he looked back up he found Astrid leaning over the table, tentatively reaching out to him with hers.

He sat there, frozen when she carefully wiped the tip of his nose as if it was the most obvious, the most natural thing to do. With her so close, he could count the few freckles on her cheeks, her entire presence kissed by the sun in a way people in Berk so rarely were. His eyes fell to her soft, pink lips, slightly chapped by the cold, and he considered hooking his finger underneath her chin and finding out if she still tasted like sugar too. But he figured she always did.

It felt like it was supposed to. It felt right. As if he'd never done otherwise. As if he was lucky enough to get to gaze into her beautiful blue eyes every single day.

While the truth was that he hardly even knew her.

"What do you do?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Huh?" Astrid blinked, then looked at her hand, her eyebrows shooting up as if she hadn't realised it belonged to her. "I'm sorry -"

"No, don't be," he told her as she backed away, already missing the closeness and sheepishly cleaning the remaining sugar off his face to occupy himself. "I just meant, what do you do on, you know, other days than New Year's Eve?"

"Oh." She sat down, wiped off her hands and tucked some of her hair back behind her ear. "Mostly volunteer work, these days. Trying to help people where I can."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it's very satisfying." Her voice trailed off, making him raise an eyebrow.

"Sounds like there's a 'but'."

She smiled slightly. "It's not exactly long-term. I need to find an actual job eventually so I can move out and become an actual adult."

"Any ideas on that yet?"

She shook her head. "That's the issue. I went to uni to become a doctor so I could help people, but it wasn't for me. So this past year, I've been trying to figure out what I want to do instead."

"I don't see how that's an issue."

"Because it's not the way it's supposed to go!" Astrid exclaimed. "I always thought gap years were a waste of time, and now here I am, doing exactly what I vouched I never would."

"Life hardly ever goes how it's supposed to," he shrugged, taking a sip. "And it doesn't seem to me like you're not doing anything."

She cocked her head at him. "What makes you so sure?"

Because I feel like I've known you all my life. "You don't seem like the kind of person to lie in bed watching Netflix all week."

"Of course not," she snorted.

"And you probably volunteer like ten, twenty hours a week…" he murmured, trying not to grin.

"Thirty. At least," she corrected him. "Fifty maybe, if there's a kickboxing tourney in town."

"Okay, public service announcement, don't pick a fight with Astrid," he quipped, painting the words in the air. "Although it's unlikely kicking your ass fits her schedule, because she works so godsdamned hard."

Astrid gave him a determined look. "I can always take time out of my day for special cases."

"Lucky me, people have been telling me I'm very special all my life," he mock-gaped. "What are the odds!"

"About the same as those of living in a town with one hundred thousand people, but nevertheless seeing the same person eight New Year's Eves in a row?"

He froze and looked at her, the way his blue eyes peered into his, searching for something. "You realised it too," he gaped, his voice suddenly a lot softer.

"Of course I did," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I may be a drop-out, but I'm not stupid."

"Didn't meant to imply you were, just…" he laughed at himself. "I thought I was the weird one."

"I don't think you're weird," Astrid reassured him. "Just a dork."

"Do you…" he started, his throat suddenly dry. "Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

He was staring at her again, wondering if leaning across the table and kissing her would be an acceptable way of 'figuring it out'. If she would find it inappropriate, or if she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back until their position inevitably became uncomfortable.

He could get up and walk to the other side of the table, sit down on the bench next to her and pull her into his lap, curl his arms around her and hold her until the clock hit midnight. So she wouldn't vanish, not this year. Ask her to come home with him, or meet him again tomorrow, because they had only barely talked and he already couldn't imagine never hearing her voice again. Because it had been enough to catch a hint of how she was brave, passionate, selfless, and smart. And he wanted to know everything else there was to learn about her.

He was snapped out of it by Astrid clearing her throat. "So what about you?"

He blinked profusely and sat back, not even realising he'd been leaning forward. "Huh?"

"What do you do?"

"Oh, I -" He took a deep breath, trying to push away the heat in his cheeks through sheer force of will. "I'm still studying. Trying to become an engineer."

"What kind?"

"For a long time, I wanted to do something with aviation," he elaborated, studying her face for a trace of boredom but finding her eyes opening up instead. "Like, my room is full of sketches of rockets, air planes, flight suits."

"Flight suits?"

"Yeah, you know, so people can fly themselves." He moved his arms, demonstrating the idea until she laughed and made him realise how stupid he made himself look. "It'd probably be a regulatory nightmare though, given that airports already aren't happy with people flying drones." He grinned. "So naturally, I got myself one for Christmas."

Astrid leaned forward, giving him a knowing look. "Does it fly yet?"

"No, but -" He continued, despite Astrid's chuckles. "That's only because I'm making some modifications."

"Sure," Astrid teased.

"It's true! Sticking to the basics takes all the fun out of it."

"Basic planes do sound a lot safer to me, you know," Astrid countered.

"Well, you're in luck, because that's what I was getting to," he explained. "I've loved planes all my life but recently, I've been giving a lot of thought to this thing. You know, what gave me my superhero name." He grinned, vaguely gesturing to his left foot. "The longer I live with it, the more ideas I get to improve it. So maybe I should do that instead." He shrugged. "Help people like me."

Astrid smiled softly. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Me too."

He could only smile back as a silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable - on the contrary, he felt he could do this all day, simply look at her, the sounds of the busy market around them seemingly non-existent. Suppress the urge to reach out towards her, unwrap her delicate fingers from around her mug just so he could study them.

He felt like Tarzan - minus the dreadlocks, broad chest and any other kind of muscle definition - wanting to pull off just one of the gloves of his Jane. Not that she was his, of course, he barely knew her name, for years he had known nothing more than that her smile warmed his heart and that every moment they shared seemed to last forever. Besides, he was a 21st century man who didn't believe women to be his property in any way. In fact, he didn't mind a woman who looked like she could kick his ass instead.

But he cherished the thought of carefully taking her fingers in his, treat them delicately despite her obvious strength, and press their palms flat against each other. To get a sense of just how real she was, her warm skin against his, treat her as if she was the first woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Because in a weird way, it felt like it. Then again, everything about this was weird, but in a way that made his heart beat faster.

He could do it. Take her hand, wrap his fingers around it and simply hold them. He would settle for that, and not let her go for the rest of the night. Not even when the fireworks started. He wasn't concerned with those. He was just wondering if they would also go off in his head the moment he kissed her.

Or he could finally realise he was staring at her like a fool, way longer than any sane person would. He blinked profusely, and she cocked her head at him, clearly amused as she took another sip.

He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something smooth, or another topic, but he found himself speechless. "There's so much I want to ask you," he laughed, embarrassingly awkward. "But I can't think of anything."

"Really?" Astrid teased. "Nothing?"

How old are you? Do you prefer dogs or cats? Sushi: overpriced raw fish or actually quite okay? How do you feel about Brangelina getting divorced? Who is your favourite character in Friends? Will you think less of me if I admit I exercised almost every day last Summer, but that ninety-nine percent of that was walking around town catching Pok émon? What even is Brexit?

Do you feel like there 's something here too? Do you like me, even a little bit?

"I just don't know where to start," he shrugged.

"Perhaps you could Google it," she grinned, seemingly content with letting him drown.

"You know, there are actually lists for that," he pointed out, pulling another useless fact out of his repertoire. "Questions to ask on dates."

"Oh?"

He treasured the fact that she didn't ask whether this was a date. So he leapt again. "Yeah. Like a list of 36 questions that 'guarantee' two people will fall in love with each other."

She snorted. "Now that sounds like yak dung." He opened his mouth to agree, but she added: "So go ahead."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a confused goldfish, not having expected to get this far. "I don't know them by heart…"

"You don't do this often?"

He liked the twinkle in her eyes, the way she consistently teased and challenged him. No, he loved that.

"But there was this one question that stuck with me, regardless," he continued. "If you were able to live to the age of ninety, and retain either the mind or the body of a thirty year-old for the last sixty years of your life…. Which one would you want?"

Astrid answered nearly instantly. "Body."

Well, if I had yours, that's what I'd pick too.

"And that's not to sound vain," she elaborated before he could comment. "It's not about that at all, but the thought of becoming so old that I can no longer move around on my own, that I'd need help to get everywhere, or that I simply don't have the energy to do the things I love anymore… I'd hate that. I would lose my independence, my freedom. I don't know what it's like to be thirty yet, of course, but if I got to live the next sixty years feeling like I do right now, but with more and more experience as time goes by, I'd sign up for that." She grinned. "And of course, not getting any wrinkles, or menopause, is an upside too."

"Not sounding vain, right?" he quipped, earning him a punch in his shoulder.

"I gave you a serious answer!"

"I know, I know!" He put his hands up in the air. "But hey, don't blame yourself for being gorgeous."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hiccup…"

He liked the way she said his name. He hoped she would do it again. "Look, if you can't take a compliment, that's not my fault."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "You're not bad yourself either."

He tried not to bask in that comment, in the knowledge that she might like him, even a little bit. He did his best to wipe his grin off his face and continue where they left off. "But I get what you mean, I suppose. People say that you need three things to live a happy life." He counted on his fingers. "Time, energy, and money. If you're young, you have time and energy, but no money. When you're a proper working adult, you have energy and money, but no time. And once you've retired, you've finally got time and money, but no energy. So I don't think your choice is that strange at all. Let alone vain."

"Well, that's one way to get depressed," Astrid huffed.

He gave her a wry smile. "Leave it up to me to brighten the mood, I guess."

"No worries, it won't keep me up at night," Astrid shrugged. "So what about you? What would you pick? If you remembered the question, you probably thought about what you'd answer too."

"I did," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "It's… interesting, but I always thought the answer was obvious. Then you made some really good points, and -"

"And I'm interested in yourreasoning, not your backpedalling."

"Okay…" He shifted, pushing his bangs back. "I'd choose mind. I'd never thought about those things you mentioned, about the whole 'walking around with a walking frame' part of getting old. Especially with my leg and all." He vaguely gestured beneath the table. "Whenever I think about reaching those ages, my mind always goes to the documentaries, the news reports about people with dementia. Because I just find them so incredibly… scary."

Astrid nodded at him and he briefly chewed on his lower lip before he continued. "The thought of getting Alzheimer's, of digressing until you forget yourself and the people around you… I don't think it runs in my family, at least not the early version of it, as far as I know, but I know that doesn't make me immune and it's just -" He sighed. "I know we all die eventually, that's inevitable. But I wouldn't want to go like that."

"Me neither," Astrid softly said, glancing at her hands. "Can I still change my pick? No use in feeling fit if you don't remember what to do with it."

"Or we could team up," he joked, wanting her to smile again. "One preserved body, one preserved mind."

"Sounds like a plan," Astrid laughed. "When I'm old and senile, you just tell me what to do and I will carry you around when you can no longer walk yourself."

"Perfect!" he agreed, grinning. "Match made in heaven."

Astrid cocked her head, observing him as her lips settled back into a slight smile. "It'd seem that way."

Had they both just implied they'd still be in each other's life years from now? Was he reading too much into that? Into the way Astrid's eyes seemed to soften the longer she looked at him, in how he was struggling to remember the last time he'd felt both this excited and this at ease?

He should just ask her. Show that he wasn't afraid to step up and declare he liked her more than he should like anyone he'd talked to this shortly.

"Do you -"

He was interrupted by a loud crash, a shout coming from the other side of the square, the world suddenly larger than just the two of them. He twisted his head to see a guy with fiery red hair stumble backwards, reaching for his eye.

"Dagur!" Astrid jumped up, sprinting in the direction of the sound as the man - Dagur? - balled his fist.

And punched the guy Hiccup only now recognised as Snotlout right in his nose.

"Fuck," Hiccup muttered, rushing after Astrid.

Snotlout recoiled, grasping his nose, blood seeping out from between his fingers as he ran into Dagur shoulder first. Ruffnut and Tuffnut cheered as the two fell over, crashing into the bench Fishlegs had been sitting on until a second ago. What the Hel had they gotten themselves into?

Astrid reached them before Hiccup did, shouting in exasperation at the men rolling around on the ground. "What the fuck are you doing!?"

No one gave her nor the small crowd that had gathered the answer they were looking for. Astrid rolled her eyes, digging her nails into Dagur's leather jacket and pulling him off Snotlout with a show of strength that seemed to surprise Dagur too and left Snotlout on the ground, wide-eyed.

Dagur tried to rush back in, but Astrid yanked him back. "Nope, you're not ruining my night, not this year." She twisted his arm behind his back when he moved again, making him yelp. "You can go berserk in your own time!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Dagur sputtered, his left eye blue with something Hiccup didn't know was a bruise or a tattoo. "He hit me first!"

"You were asking for it!" Snotlout yelled, coughing as blood streamed into his mouth from his obviously broken nose.

"Nah." "Not really." The twins countered instantly, crossing their arms.

Hiccup rushed over to Snotlout as he got back up, and put his hands on his shoulders. "Whoah, Snot, calm down."

"Move over," Snotlout insisted. "Let me at him!"

"Dude, your nose's broken," he argued as calmly as he could, trying to use his height advantage to prevent Snot from moving.

"You know him?"

He looked back over his shoulder at a sceptical Astrid, her eyebrow pulled up, Dagur's efforts to squirm out of her hold futile. He didn't know whether to yell at Snotlout or simply stand there and be impressed with how well she handled guys two times her size. Make a bad and inappropriate joke about her handling him, sometime…

"My cousin," he shrugged, trying to make clear that he also didn't ask for this. Out of all the nights Snotlout had to be, well, Snotlout…

"Nice family you got there," Astrid snorted.

"Right back at you."

"Nope." Astrid shook her head. "Best friend's brother."

"Oh my Thor… You broke my nose!" Snotlout suddenly yelped, as if he'd only just realised it.

"Heh. You kind of sound like Hiccup, talking through your nose and all," Tuffnut commented.

"You gave me a black eye!" Dagur yelled.

"I'm gonna sue you!"

"Playing the lead role in a local production of Grease doesn't make you an American, Snot," Hiccup bit, trying to glance over Dagur's shoulder, where Astrid was trying to hold her grip. "Astrid -"

"Is there are doctor around!?" Snotlout whined.

"I hope so, cause you need one, to fix your head!" Dagur bellowed.

"Guys, fighting doesn't solve anything, please stop…" Fishlegs tried weakly.

Dagur surged forward with such force that the last thing Hiccup saw was Astrid tumbling backwards on the ground, right before Dagur collided with him and Snotlout. They landed in a pile of limbs, both real and fake, Hiccup's elbow landing right in Snotlout's stomach and Dagur's knee digging into his thigh. He cried out in pain, trying to push Dagur off him but ending up as the heavily abused third wheel, caught in the crossfire while neither Snotlout nor his assailant paid any actual attention to him.

"Alright, fine, then we'll try it this way."

His misery was interrupted by a few flashes of blond, followed by pained yelps from Dagur. Finally free, he sputtered and rolled off of Snotlout. He pushed himself up, glancing around to thank his saviour and finding Astrid next to him, perched up on Dagur, holding his arms behind his back as he was lying face down on the floor. Looking uncannily comfortable, as if she was doing this every day.

"We should probably get out of here before the cops get here," she casually remarked.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were currently undercover," he grinned, distractingly offering Snotlout a not-so-helping hand while keeping his eyes on the most badass woman in the world. He was happy she wasn't with the police though. He didn't need the idea that she could end up like his father.

"You caught me," she laughed. "I'm trying to get a breakthrough in the curious case of cute guys who only appear on New Year's Eve."

He could feel his face change colour. Along with his hand when Snotlout gripped it, leaving it sticky with blood as his cousin hauled himself up.

"Geez, can no one hand him a tissue?" he asked, agitated. Ruffnut shrugged as if there was no other sensible option, zipped open her coat and tore off part of her shirt, handing it to Snotlout, who promptly pressed it to his nose.

"Astrid -"

"Oh Gods," Snotlout gasped, glancing at the piece of fabric and seeing how red it had gotten in mere seconds. "That's a lot of blood."

"- this is not how -"

"Am I dying?"

"- I thought this would go -"

"I'm definitely dying."

"- but thank you, and -"

"But I'm too young and handsome to die!"

"And I think you should get your charming cousin to the ER," Astrid smiled, softly patting Dagur's head when he struggled again.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup tried. So this was how it ended. His first true chance in seven years.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Astrid reassured him with yet another smile.

That phrase stayed with him as he told her goodbye, dragging Snotlout away from the crowd, the others following in his wake. It was echoing through his head when the clock hit midnight in the waiting room of the hospital and Snotlout lamented this being the worst New Year's ever, his complaints unheard because Hiccup himself simply disagreed. He was on cloud nine despite the hospital smell, despite having to explain to the twins that bringing booze into the ER to 'have a bit of a party after all' wasn't socially acceptable behaviour, despite being semi-traumatised by Fishlegs Googling every single medical condition a nosebleed could be a symptom of. No matter how often Hiccup pointed out that there was a direct correlation between the position of Snot's nose, the unstoppable force that had met it and the voluminous amount of blood.

Astrid's words were still with him when he woke up the following morning, feeling like he had a hangover despite not having drunk any alcohol. But in a good way. The best way. The kind that made him giddy and excited, anxiously glancing at his phone while he tried to go about his day.

And they didn't leave him until by the end of January, Astrid still hadn't called.