#and ended up letting flow in all their unprocessed trauma without meaning to

[ominousgradient]

I can't decide if they'd be best buds or if they'd hate eachother cause each one thinks the over is a cringe poser (Snotlout girl no offense but Mac would slap the shit out of you </3)

Also this is giving me war flashbacks to that AU where i just put all my favorite characters in a band with Snotlout as the vocalist and Charlie on the keyboard

Also assigning the cast to eachother:

• Tuffnut is Charlie

• Ruffnut is Dee

• Snotlout is Mac (with the social standing of Charlie)

• Frank is uhhhhh Trader Johann or Gobber

• And Hiccup is Dennis, not because it fits but because making Hiccup an evil narcissitic hater would be incredibly funny. Just make him a fucked up nasty little scemer. So arrogant and full of loathing for his fellow human beings that he ends up looking pathetic. Hatred oozing from his pores. Shaking with barely supressed rage at all times. AU were Hiccup was born with a blackened charcoal heart 🖤

[mayven-wynters]

May shares our delusions. They are unknown, a zombie, and a rescue. While they might be resilient, sometimes they get vicious. They are a sub/switch in bed, and homosexual. They are into biting and body modification and want a dom/switch partner

No, ‘May’ isn’t his full name, but he hates Mayven so he’s stuck with the shortened version since he was a kid. Doesn’t care if it’s feminine...his full name is just really awful. Only his cousin Ber knows his full name. 

Life never did him many favors, May is used to struggling and fighting for everything, not much has changed after his death. His surface changes to suit what he needs; he’ll play the sad puppy if it gets him what he wants, or he’ll bristle and growl if he needs to. After a lifetime of practicing how to read what people want? He’s gotten really damn good at playing roles. What’s actually under there is a lot of complication; he’s loyal, he’s affectionate, he’s that uncertain guy who had to stop believing there were limits to what he was willing to do just to get by. Maybe he did a lot of it to himself, maybe he made the wrong choices, but what does that change? Always on that thin edge, one step from breaking and losing his grasp on humanity; May has a lot of issues to work out.

May hates zombie movies, pop culture and anything that paints up the idea of zombies as brainless monsters. He takes it personally insulting, actually, and practically a slight against his species that these things exist. True, he has no idea if there are other zombies around but surely there have to be; he figures werewolves and vampires get a little irritated at times too but even those guys have it better than zombies.

Being already dead, May can’t die in the normal sense. He can be destroyed via means one would expect; massive brain trauma, fire, entire dismemberment, but he doesn’t age or change with time. He does change depending on how strained his body is though, the less access he has to the type of fresh flesh and blood he needs the more it causes his body to break down. Black circles under his eyes, colder skin, stiffer joints and bruising are all signs of first stage weakness, after that the sluggish flow of blood in his body mostly ebbs to a crawl, meaning his senses are weaker, his perception of the world becomes more skewed and it all goes more and more downhill from there.

Part of being a zombie means some issues with your body; May’s right eye falls out...often. The nerve was severed years ago and rather than lose the organ entirely he made a deal with a witch to have it enchanted. Now the eye is still functional even if outside of his skull, meaning that he can see things around the eye itself, which is the main reason he tends to close his eyelid on that side when he can’t find the damn thing because the dual vision is confusing as hell at times.

Depending on how strong his body is, how recently he’s been able to eat, May doesn’t always feel as much so far as pain. His nerves dull somewhat and he feels far less surface pain when his body is strained, to the point it’s only a dull hum at his skin. Usually by this point he’s so hungry he’s distracted by his stomach and head aching intensely. Yes, he can take a lot of damage, yes he can handle things that would kill normal people, no..it doesn’t matter if his body is damaged. He can heal wounds if he feeds, basically he his body absorbs raw flesh and blood and uses it like supernatural energy. If he’s too weak for that...he’ll staple, glue or otherwise temporarily fix wounds until he can feed again.

Along those same lines, May has no need for normal food. His digestive system is entirely dead; he only gains the energy he needs to heal, retain mental clarity, and otherwise function from flesh and blood. While it’s possible for him to gain some of what he needs from already dead sources like corpses, the fresh variety works so much better. Human, or at least supernatural creatures with human-level awareness, also satisfy his hunger in ways that animals cannot. There is a reasoning for this May himself doesn’t yet know, he’s never questioned it so much as just accepted it. He likes it anyway, it’s incredibly satisfying when he can overindulge that hunger.

And since he is always hungry, always feels that pang of starvation, he offsets it with eating other food. Raw sugar does effect him, other raw or unprocessed food can grant him some energy, but for the most part he just eats excessively and his stomach forces him to purge it all later.

Hunger is May’s biggest weakness; it controls him at times and when it gets too intense he goes far more animalistic and flat out desperate to the point of doing whatever he has to. He’s learned to be very careful to keep it in check, but being dumped in a town where he’s expected to fit in? He’s not letting anybody know just how horrible that hunger is all the time and how desperate he is to calm it. Somehow...he doesn’t see the townsfolk too eager to let him hang around if they knew he’s got a strong taste for things most people consider off the menu. Any Sponsor that gets stuck with him is probably going to see the extent of his needs though, so good luck with that.

May was the endearing age of fifteen when he struck out with his cousin and left home for good. His parents didn’t think much of him anyway, he held no actual ability for magic the way the rest of the family did and they had more important business to attend to. Being brokers of potions, spells and other magical oddities they had far less time for the one child out of their brood of four who showed no promise of power. May eventually got tired of falling to the wayside and being handed off to various relatives to look after when spell-casting back home was too dangerous for him to be around. Hearing that Berwyn, one of the only people he gave a damn about in the family in the first place, had been disowned was the last straw. May didn’t need any of that drama anymore, it was easy to leave.

Him and Ber were close, as close as cousins could be really; just like himself there had always been reasons Ber’s side of the family was at odds with him. May had a kindred spirit and despite being the younger of the two, he has always been viciously protective of his soft-spoken cousin. While the world taught Ber how to hide May learned to bare his teeth. So it was no surprise that he managed himself a way to Wales to retrieve Ber after hearing he’d been kicked out and brought the both of them back to his old haunting grounds around London. Nieve child that he was in those days, May thought there was no way they wouldn’t survive so long as the stuck together. But the world was a cruel place, that was apparent early on.

Between trying to balance his next scheme to keep them fed, using his apparently natural talent for manipulation, and attempting to shelter Ber from too much of the cold reality of life, May had a lot on his thin shoulders. Necessity became the backdrop to his life, desperation wasn’t a word he would admit but one he felt far too often. He took it in stride, refusing the possibility that he was in over his head as he crafted con after con, sank deeper in his own growing problems with addiction as a way to cope. It was almost too good to be true when Ber found people who wanted to help them. An end to exhausting days and questionable choices seemed too good to be true. It was, but that didn’t become clear until after the two of them were in far too deep.

The thing about cults is they’re good at brainwashing people. May was too stubborn to fall for it, too bitter towards the people around him suddenly wanting to make Ber feel too comfortable, too safe, trying to separate the two of them somewhat; he didn’t buy into the lies. But the fact was they were safe from the world outside, existence was so much easier. May didn’t like it much, everything still hit a raw nerve, but he learned to stomach it. As time passed he went a little numb, of course that could have been mostly because they were happy to field his drug habit if it kept him from causing trouble.

And then the ugliness of the situation finally reared its’ head, as cults tend to do. Sacrificial rituals to the Gods for the sake of immortality. Appeasing the higher powers and the normal nonsense. May found himself on the wrong side of the knife, barely remembers much at all but does recall a murmuring in his mind somewhere between the thin strands of life snapping, a voice different than any he had known before, and the agonizing shock of returning to the living world without those shackles of truly being alive. Misery. Pure and simple misery.

For their part the entire cult was equally shocked by his resurrection, that wasn’t something they planned but it made him instantly important. Not that May cared, he was in no state to even know what was happening around him. He knew, vaguely, that Ber was still around, until he wasn’t, that everyone kept trying to unravel the magic that had turned him into what he was, but they couldn’t, and that gradually the world came back into focus. The focus was entirely skewed and messy but at least he could recall his own name after months of his brain attempting to adjust, so that was something.

The rest was constant motion, one place to another, studied and scrutinized until May had had enough of being looked at like some strange science experiment. He made a mess in leaving but they shouldn’t have tried to stop him, they knew better than to test the idea that he might lash out. And bloodshed was just a part of existence for him anymore. Unfortunately so was being overwhelmed; the better part of a year passed with May wandering from place to place, person to person, bolting whenever he hit that feral state again. Over time he came back to himself, mostly, enough to learn how to hide some of this less...favorable nature in order to survive.