flight0ficarus

[flight0ficarus]

Lost and Found (Snotlout x Reader)

Description: Oh no you're injured! Who ever is going to nurse you back to health >:)

A/N: I lick my screen every time I see him. Also I love you all wth?? Thank you so much lovies hope y'all enjoy <3

Part 1

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Part 2: Wrap Me Like One of Your Norse Girls

You’d drifted off into a dreamless sleep when you heard the door creek open. You raised your head to see Snotlout tiptoeing his way in holding a tray. The sky was still light, but the sun would be setting soon. You were laying on top of the blankets with only his jacket over you.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know how important sleep is when you’ve gotten a head injury.” He set the tray down and knocked on his helmet with one hand. “I’ve had my fair share.”

You could tell. But he certainly was right, you felt like all you could do was sit in a dark room and sleep. You sat up a bit to see what was on the tray. There was a bowl of some kind of soup, a pile of strange-looking red berries, and a slice of bread. Next to that was a yellow cream that had a strong medicinal smell. Snotlout poured the rest of the water from the pitcher into a cup and set it down next to your food.

“The soup’s got mackerel in it, Gobber says it’s good for the head. Last time I got hurt they had me eat a bunch of berries so I went around and picked some for you. I mean I was already out in the forest so I figured why not?”

Maybe you weren’t as fluent as you thought. He didn’t speak the formal version of the language like you were taught and when he started to speed up the words just blended together. “What? I can’t speak that fast.” You weren’t sure why it seemed like his cheeks were dusted with pink.

“Nothing, sorry. The cream is for your cuts. Why don’t you eat first and then we can change your bandages.” He slowed down to a normal speed. You moved the tray closer to you so he would have room to sit. He took the opportunity.

You took a bite of your soup. It was somehow bland and salty, with a strong fishy flavor to boot. The berries were better, not very big, but nice and tart. “Thank you, Snotlout.”

“Ah don’t mention it.” He scooted a bit closer to you. “So where are you from?”

You told him all about your country. About the food and the festivals. Different celebrations during different seasons. You told him about the beauty and the colorful clothing and the jewelry. Oh how you missed your home. The feeling was only intensified when you took another bite of the soup. Nothing could grow on an island so rocky; none of the seasonings and herbs you were used to. Tears began to swell in your eyes, you tried to fight them back but you didn’t have the energy.

Snotlout set a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It sounds beautiful! I promise you’ll see it again.” You nodded, appreciating his tries at comforting you. “You know, I find the soup more tolerable when you dip the bread in it. You’re not the first to cry from the food on the island.”

You let out a laugh at that. Snotlout seemed to light up at the fact he made you a bit happier. He watched you the whole time as you dipped the bread into the soup, letting it absorb the broth, before taking a bite. You nodded at him, “It is better,” and gave a giggle. He stayed with you the whole time you ate, telling you about the island and the people on it. He told you about the chief, Stoick, who was a strong and courageous leader. He talked about his dad, who he admired greatly and looked up to. He told you about each of his friends, their talents and their dynamics. He mentioned some kind of training but didn’t say what exactly they did.

“Training? Are you like a soldier?”

He looked like he was debating how to answer. “Well that depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you like soldiers?”

You rolled your eyes and finished the last swig of your water. He’d taken off his helmet and revealed his messy brown hair. You had to admit he was decent looking, but you couldn’t afford to think like that. Your goal was getting off this island, a pretty boy would only distract you from that.

Snotlout noticed you’d finished your food and picked up the empty pitcher, “I’m going to fill this up while you change your bandages. There’s a bath house right out back with a pump for fresh water. Use it whenever you need.”

You nodded in acknowledgment as he handed you a roll of bandages he retrieved from his pants pocket. He turned to leave and you uncovered yourself to examine your wounds. There were a couple deep gashes on your calves and thighs, with smaller cuts and bruises peppered about. A long, deep slash stretched from the top of your left shoulder and curved around to the front of your bicep, about halfway down. Both your shoulders were sore and your arms bruised. Your entire torso was wrapped in bandages, hiding any wounds from your hips up. You were sure your back was torn to shreds, you could feel the stiffness that indicated scabbing.

You started with your legs, unwrapping them and coating them in a decent layer of the balm, and then replacing the bandages. You repeated the process with your arms, wincing when you had to lift them too high up. Next was your torso, which meant slipping off your night gown. That was a complete nightmare; your muscles were killing you and your joints ached. You managed to lift the thing over your head with a huff. Unwrapping the bandages from around your back wasn’t as difficult, but it was still no easy task. You were already exhausted and debating whether or not you should just give up, but the fear of infection flooded your mind. You scooped the medicine in your right hand and tried to trace the cuts on your back, but all you got was a dollop on your shoulder before you felt a sharp, stabbing pain shoot down your arm. You slammed your other hand down on the tray and let out a grunt of frustration.

“Hey is everything okay in there?” Snotlout was standing outside.

“I can’t…I can’t lift my arms enough to get my back.” You answered him through the closed door.

“Do you want me to get help? I can ask one of the women.”

“No, just,” you wrapped one of the fur blankets you were sitting on around your hips and used the coat Snotlout had given you to cover your chest. “Come in here please.”

It took a second for him to open the door, when he did he set down the pitcher of water without a word and sat on the bed. Snotlout smirked at you, “If you wanted to feel my hands on you so bad you could’ve just asked.” That’s how he decided to break the silence? You rolled your eyes and hugged your knees. You didn’t know anyone else on this island and Snotlout hadn’t seemed untrustworthy. He rubbed his hands together to warm them and picked up the canister. “Just your back?”

“Yeah.” It was only a whisper. You felt his hands on you as he rubbed in what you had left on your shoulder. His touch was so gentle, he was trying so hard not to hurt you, but you shivered at the feeling of him anyway. The way his fingers ran up and down the sensitive flesh of your wounded back gave you goosebumps, you hoped he didn’t notice. His hands were a little cold, which you enjoyed in contrast to the heat your injuries produced. They weren’t soft, they were the calloused hands of someone who worked hard. You had to remind yourself to keep your breathing steady when his thumb ran over a spot just below your armpit.

Snotlout was silent the whole time, which you thought was unlike him, but you supposed you couldn’t really be sure. He removed his hands and you instantly missed the feeling. “Did you get the one on your face?”

Your hands shot up. “My face?”

“There’s a little cut under your eye.” He could see the worry written across your face. “Don’t worry, it makes you look cool, like a battle scar.”

You didn’t want battle scars, you wanted your skin to be how it always had. You took a deep sigh and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping no more tears would come.

“Hey no look at me.” Snotlout just barely touched your chin and turned your head toward him. He was still sitting behind you, but he was leaned forward so he could look into your eyes. You reluctantly opened them and saw his face just inches from yours. “It’s a tiny little thing. It’ll fade in no time and it’ll be like it was never there. Your pretty face won’t look any different.” You pressed your lips together to hide a smile as you blushed.

“Be quiet and put the stuff on it.” There wasn’t any malice in your words and Snotlout knew that. He did as he was told and cupped your left cheek in his hand, using his thumb to spread a thin layer just below your eye. His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the feeling growing in his chest.

“Do you need anything else?” His voice was soft spoken. You averted your eyes and shook your head. “Is this your bad arm?” He pointed to your right arm, which you were carefully cradling with your other hand.

“They’re both pretty sore, but yeah this one’s worse I think.”

“It might be fractured. We couldn’t tell when you were asleep, it wasn’t out of place or anything so that’s good. It’s probably a small break.” He stood up and knelt in front of the bed with the bandages in hand. “I’m gonna wrap it so it doesn’t get worse, okay?”

You stuck your hand out for him, using the other to keep your chest covered, as he wrapped your forearm with the bandages. You wondered how many times he’d been injured for him to be so good. Maybe caring for people was part of his job.

“Why are you helping me?” Sure he’d saved your life and pulled you from the sea, but why did he stick around?

He waited a moment before he answered, “Stoick put me in charge of taking care of you.”

He didn’t say it in a way that made it seem like he was bothered by you, but it still stung a bit. You hated feeling like a burden to him, certainly he’d rather be doing something else with his evening instead of caring for some girl he didn’t even know. You kept silent after that, hoping you could shrink into yourself. It stayed that way until he finished with the wrappings.

Snotlout rose to his feet and looked down at you, “You should get some more rest. I’ll be back in the morning, your bandages need to be changed once a day so I’ll be here to help again after dinner, sound good?”

You nodded, feeling a bit guilty. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Anything else you need? You shook your head. “Alright then, have a good night.”

“You too. Goodnight.” With that he picked up his helmet and left. You wrapped the remaining bandages around your torso and missed feeling his fingers, at least he’d be back tomorrow.

You tried to fall asleep, but your mind was too awake and the sky was too bright. You’d forgotten that the sun followed a different schedule this far north. When you did fall asleep you dreamt of black seas and lightning.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

The sun was illuminating your room by the time you woke up. You got to enjoy a couple hours of darkness before it was too bright to sleep. You pulled yourself out of bed and looked out the window; you could see the small bathhouse a few yards away. There weren’t any people, so you figured you’d seize the opportunity and finally wash the grime off of yourself. You took Snotlout’s jacket with you and limped your way out to the bathhouse.

Your little shack seemed to be on the outskirts of the island. There was one other cottage nearby with smoke coming out of the chimney, but you weren’t all that interested in getting to know whoever it was. You didn’t deem now as a fitting time for being neighborly. You made it to the bathhouse and looked around, it was maybe four times bigger than your room, the floor was stone and had a depression in the center for bathing. It wasn't large by any normal standards, but it could fit a handful of people in it. There were several water spouts around the perimeter of the tub, you went around turning them all on. The water was cold, as you figured it would be because next to the tub was a large pot set atop a wire rack with kindling underneath. It reminded you of the pot witches would use to cook children in the old fairytales you used to read and you scrunched your nose at the thought. You turned the faucet above the pot on and found a flint striker to ignite a fire.

You waited for a while as the pot began to bubble and boil. When you figured the water was hot enough, you carefully tipped the giant pot into the bath. Your fingered burned a bit, but seeing as you’d just survived a shipwreck, you didn’t really give the pain a second thought. You stripped off your clothes and placed them in a neat pile on the dusty floor, the idea that someone could walk in at any moment had your stomach in knots. You quickly stripped off your bandages and slipped into the bath. Your injuries weren’t bleeding anymore, so the bandages were mostly clean and only really used to keep the healing balm in place. The water was only lukewarm, you’d have to fiddle with the ratio next time, but the temperature wasn’t unbearable. Compared to the cold outside it seemed like a sauna.

You scrubbed the dirt and sand from your body, dipping your head underneath and stripping the oil from your scalp. The water helped support your aching joints and broken arm, taking the pain away for a few moments. You felt like you could float there all morning, but the water was cooling down fast — and frankly you’d had enough of drifting around in cold water for a lifetime. You pulled the plug at the bottom of the bath before forcing yourself out and cursed gravity once the pain returned.

You rewrapped your bandages, got dressed, and made your way back to your shack. You enjoyed the quiet for a few minutes before there was a knock at your door.

“Wakey wakey! I’ve got a surprise!” Snotlout’s voice had a funny tone that was full of excitement.

A surprise? What could it be? You lugged yourself to the door and opened it to see a very excited Snotlout with something behind his back. He placed in front of you a large canvas sack, you opened it and your heart nearly burst.

“This is my stuff!” The bag was filled with your things, you pulled everything out and examined it. There were two outfits, a deep purple dress and a red skirt with a matching blouse, a pair of black leather slippers (you were overjoyed to have a pair of shoes), a small wooden box that had been ruined by the salt water, and a bottle of perfume. Thank the heavens I don’t have to smell like a wild animal you thought to yourself.

“A suitcase washed up on the other side of the island the day after you did. It was destroyed but we managed to salvage some of the things inside.”

Your smile was so big your cheeks were starting to get sore. “Thank you so much!” It wasn’t nearly all of the stuff you’d had with you on the ship, but getting any of it back was something you hadn’t even thought was possible.

“I was thinking maybe you could get dressed and we could take a walk? It would be good for you to get some exercise.” He was rocking back and forth on his heels like a little kid.

“Sure!” Some fresh air might be good for your health, at the very least it would keep you from getting cabin fever.

“Good. There’s, uh, someone you need to meet.” With that he stepped outside, leaving you alone to change.

@ali-griff <3

[flight0ficarus]

Lost and Found (Snotlout x Reader

Description: After a shipwreck, you wash up on the shore of an unfamiliar island. Someone who introduces himself as Snotlout is put in charge of nursing you back to health. What happens next? 👀

A/N: this man had me damn near barking in the movie theater I had to write something

Disclaimer: idk how sailboats work I tried my best ;-;

Part 2

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Part 1: A Viking’s Questionable Guide to First Aid

As so many stories start, it was a dark and stormy night. You were hiding from the rain below the deck of one of your father’s charter ships. An oil lamp that hung from the ceiling was emitting a faint glow, just bright enough that you could keep your nose buried in a book. The boat rocked dangerously back and forth. You could feel your stomach churn with every dip and you prayed for the strength to keep your supper down. You had read about monsters in this area. Your father would say it was nonsense, but you felt as if some horrible sea-lizard was toying with your ship.

Your father was a wealthy merchant, he’d taken his business to a far away country and had you stay put to handle some of his affairs. The two of you liked to joke that you were business partners. Now, after many months, he’d sent a letter requesting you to come stay with him and visit the foreign land. He hired a ship to see that you were brought safely and all in one piece.

You weren’t exactly sure that last part was going to happen. You could hear the roaring of thunder followed by the clamoring of the ships crew. Their exact words were muffled by the downpour hammering against the ship from all directions. The storm seemed to be getting worse by the second, as did the pit growing in your stomach. You had been instructed to stay below deck at all costs. For no reason were you to leave the supposed safety of your room and traverse to the upper decks. But the walls of your room seeped a damp, musty smell and your bed felt like laying on a slab of concrete. Your eyes began to water and blur as bile raised in your throat. You set your book down and threw on some boots and a gray duster to cover your under clothes. Bad weather was not going to stop you from getting out of your stuffy room and breathing in some cool air.

You climbed up the latter that lead outside your room. The worried voices began to grow in clarity as you reached to undo the latch on the door. “Fire!” You thought you heard someone shout. Fire? During a rainstorm? You had a pretty good grasp of languages, but some people on the ship spoke ones you weren’t entirely familiar with. You must’ve just gotten the words confused. You pushed the door open and stuck the top of your head through. The first thing you noticed was how every crew member was leaning over the starboard side of the ship. The second thing you noticed was glowing, red-hot embers floating from above your head as you choked on the stench of smoke. You looked up and saw the smoldering remains of the ship’s mast.

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Lightning must have struck and now the boat couldn’t turn. You heard a loud crash to your left and saw that the boat had scraped against a line of sharp rocks. The men to your right leaned further over the edge, but it was no use. They weren’t heavy enough to change the ships direction without a working sail and now the cabin was taking on water. You dragged yourself out of the door and saw as the light from your room was drowned out by the darkness of the water. You ran to where the other people were standing and threw your weight against the edge. It was to no avail, the ship hit another pile of rocks and you were thrown forward. The floor was slick from the rain and your head smashed against the ground. Your vision went completely black for a second before you came to. One of the men, short and stout and nearing your father’s age, helped you to your feet.

“You’re bleeding.” He was right, the left side of your head was pouring blood. He supported your weight and dragged you back toward the stern. The man set you down and continued to speak in a thick accent. “I’m going to find someone to help you.”

You could barely understand what he was saying to you. The commotion was so loud and you were starting to feel dizzy from the blood loss. He gave you an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder and told you to hang in there before running off.

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the rain before the ship started to sink. Your consciousness was starting to slip from your grasp. You tried to keep yourself awake and alive. You thought of your father, you tried remembering the last thing you read in your book, but nothing was working. Somewhere near the front of the ship the crew was loading onto life boats. You tried to call out, you tried to drag yourself toward them, but you didn’t have any strength. The ships port side was tilting into the water and you were powerless to do anything but slip into the freezing ocean.

The throbbing in your head stopped only to be replaced by the unforgiving stabbing of icy cold knives. Every inch of your body ached with cold; the chill seemed to sink into the marrow of your bones. You felt your body scrape against the rocks as you were dragged further and further from the ship. You looked toward the heavens, there was no moon and no starts, only the blackness of the clouds that blended with the blackness of the sea. You always figured your death would be warm, in a room full of people you loved, but here you were: bleeding out in the deep waters of some rocky island, alone and cold.

You blacked out again, who knows how long, but everything was illuminated the dull blue of an early morning when you woke up. You felt waves pushing and pulling you against the sand. Your whole body stung from the salty seawater in your wounds. You tried to blink the blurriness from your eyes when a figure appeared above you. It was big and furry with horrible, twisted horns.

Monster! You thought. It was a childish fear, one you should have long outgrown. You tried to fight back when the beast wrapped its paws around you and picked you up.

“Would you stop that?” It sounded like you were still under the water. You weren’t sure who was speaking, maybe another crew mate had been taken by the monster? You didn’t have time to think much else before you slipped away again.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

You woke up to pain. Your head pounded and your back and legs were sore and covered in bandages. Wherever you were it was dark. You were laying on some kind of bed with a pile of fur blankets covering you. Other than those, the only thing you wore was a thin white nightgown and barely covered the tops of your thighs. You tried to recall what had happened. Storm, ship wreck, monster. No it couldn’t have been a monster, those don’t exist. You used one of the blankets to keep yourself covered and started looking around the room for something to defend yourself with. Monster or man, you wouldn’t go down without one hell of a fight.

You realized you were in a healing hut of sorts. There were herbs and medicines and other things you didn’t recognize. Blankets covered the windows, but you could tell it was daylight outside. You found a small knife next to some crushed up berries and held onto it. You studied the plants and any writing you could find, trying to figure out whose shore you washed up on when you heard someone enter from behind you. You turned, knife at the ready, prepared for any monster that had come your way.

Before you stood a young man. A look of relief washed over his face. “You’re alive!” His voice seemed familiar, as did the twisting horns protruding from his strange hat. His eyes went toward the ceiling as he shrugged off his large jacket. “Here.” It was barely a murmur.

You risked a glance down and realized you’d let the blanket fall from your shoulders. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized you stood before him barely clothed. He stepped closer and you hesitated in letting your guard down. “You pulled me from the water?” His tongue wasn’t your native one, but you spoke it just fine.

He still wasn’t quite looking at you. “Yeah that was me. That was three days ago. You’ve been asleep since, They put me in charge of watching you.” You let him place the jacket around your shoulders and reveled in the warmth he left behind.

You kept a firm grip on the knife as you questioned him. “Where am I?”

“The charming island of Berk.” He seemed to say it sarcastically

“How far are we from the Whispering Isle?

His eyebrows furrowed. “The Whispering Isle? I don’t know, maybe a month by boat.”

A month?! You couldn’t wait that long. Your father would think you were long dead. “I need to get there. I’m meant to meet my father.”

“You’re not going anywhere in this condition. Why don’t you put the knife down and follow me.” Did he think you were stupid?

“Why would I follow you?”

“You don’t think you’re still going to be sleeping in the healer’s hut do you? People here get injured like it’s going out of style. We set up a place for you.” Somewhere other than a cramped wooden hut that smelled of smoke and herbs would be nice. Although you did appreciate the warmth after nearly dying of cold in the ocean.

He led you out of the tent. The moment daylight hit your eyes it felt like your head was being split in two. You’d nearly forgotten about your brain bouncing around in your skull like a rubber ball. He pulled you closer and covered your eyes with his hands. “Sorry! I’m so sorry I forgot Gothi said we should keep you away from bright lights when you woke up.”

“Who’s Gothi?” You hissed, still trying to regain your bearings. You weren’t a fan of being led blindly by this man, but you still had the knife in your hand in case he tried something funny.

“Gothi, she’s like our fortune teller. She usually handles medicine and stuff too.”

“And who are you?”

“Snotlout. What’s your name?”

Snotlout? What. The hell. Kind of a name is Snotlout? Never mind this weird island and their weird names, you couldn’t wait to leave.

You told him your name.

“That’s pretty. Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Oh how you almost gagged. A man named Snotlout would not be flirting with you.

You made it to wherever it was he was taking you and once you were inside he removed his hand. “Tada!” He spread his arms wide like nothing could bring him more pride. “What do you think? I put the whole thing together myself.”

That was a frightening thought. It was smaller than the healing hut. Almost nothing more than a cot and a table, with a single flower in a vase on top and a pitcher next to it. This guy should really become an interior designer. You turned to face him. This was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him. He wasn’t very tall, if you had your boots you’d probably be the same height as him. He was wearing a goofy smile — too big for his face — as he waited for you to reply.

“It’s lovely.” His brown eyes lit up. They reminded you of how a baby calf looks when you bring them a snack

“Oh! Your jacket. It’s getting cleaned and stitched up. I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

Finally some decent news. “Thank you.”

“Well I have stuff to do. I’ll be back to check on you later. Get some rest.” And with that he excused himself from the room.

You laid on the bed, still wrapped in Snotlout’s fur coat, and cried your eyes out. You cried for the ship's crew, hoping that maybe they lived. You cried for your father, who was far away and impossible to get to. You were alone, with foreign people on an isolated island. What if these people were mean? Misery clouded your thoughts as your head pounded. You downed half the water in the pitcher and hurried your face in Snotlout’s coat, hugging your knees.

Let me know if y’all want a part two 👀