#astrid: humans are so weak

[saturnniidae]

you say you have disabled hiccup headcanons? :3 *ears get really reall big. how are they doing that. why*

id love to hear them :D

Yes! Okay you've opened the floodgates my friend, I've been waiting to talk about this for so long.

He's autistic and has adhd! Obviously.

stims by tapping his fingers against things, waving his hands around, quickly taking apart and putting back together trinkets he's made, mimicking dragon noises (tho over time he's realized their vague meaning and stopped doing it randomly bc it was confusing them), running his hands over toothless' head to feel the texture of his scales and (when he was younger) petting his fur vest

His 'obsession' with things (trying to one up viggo, and when he was working on his sword) is literally just him Hyperfocusing on things

Easily loses track of time when he's locked in (Hyperfocused) working on inventions

Has that random 'I need to info dump NOW' thing and wakes Astrid up in the middle of the night like to randomly talk about abnormal behavioral patterns in a new terror flock on berk and Astrids just like 'babe I love you but it's three am'

Dyspraxic. When he was a kid he spent so much time practicing coordination for things like learning to write then later working in the smithy, and almost gave up more than once before continuing out of spite.

immunocompromised. Like seriously Hiccup has a weak ass immune system and would get sick every winter as a little kid, to the point of it being fatal. The villagers would always talk in hushed tones (bc of stoick caught them they'd get yelled at) and wonder if that years gonna be the one where he doesn't make it but he always ended up pulling through (also out of spite)

After meeting Toothless he developed tinnitus. Didn't think much of the ringing in his ears at first bc. Yknow, dragon roared at full volume directly into his ear. Then it didn't go away and he was like 'huh maybe this is an issue' then it just got worse as he continued to be in close proximity to loud noises like, even more roaring, and explosions etc.

Despite this he's got that weird "I enjoy loud noises like dragons roaring and the sound the wind makes when you're flying at like 40 mph, but if I hear the noise of lots of overlapping voices all having different conversations in a large room I need to die."

Chronic pain. The obvious, phantom pains in his leg of course, but fun fact! The human body really doesn't like it when you've broken bones repeatedly especially in the same area, and with how much this kid gets thrown around in rtte it's safe to say he's broken, fractured, and dislocated a lot of things.

When he comes home/gets back to the edge after a long day of traumatic or ridiculous events, first thing he does is take Toothless' saddle and prosthetic tail fin off, then he tries to crash in his bed, but either Toothless doesn't let him sleep until he's taken his prosthesis off (I hate that he sleeps with it on in canon looking at it makes my body hurt imaging how uncomfortable that'd be), or Astrid comes in to make sure he does (and also to make sure he eats bc he forgets to wayyy too often).

Asthma. No explanation. I just know he has it

I hope not all of these came off as super angsty, they aren't meant to completely. Like sure it sucks but he's allowed to not be miserable constantly (disabled people are allowed to not be miserable constantly, it doesn't make our pain any less valid. We're allowed to be happy).

I just love when characters are permanently, physically, changed by their story. Tbh if it weren't for rampant ableism, I think a lot of characters in action/adventure stories would be disabled, but people aren't ready for that discussion yet. Ty for the ask I had so much fun answering and writing these!!!

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Ambrosia

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 3965 Tags: Top Dream, Bottom Hob, Tob Hob, Bottom Dream, multiple orgasms, body hair appreciation, scent kink, Dream of the Endless has a human kink, sweat is sexy, armpit appreciation, Hob is at his most beautiful when he's most human, rimming, felching, anal sex, oral sex, cumslut Dream, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, hair pulling, unnegotiated hairpulling, both of them are on board, but it's heat-of-the-moment not talked about beforehand, in case that's a strong point for anyone, overstimulation

Notes: This got sidelined for several months behind other inspiration but I've finally come back and pulled it all together. Springboarded from several of the monthly smut prompts posted up by @staroftheendless, to wit: 3/23/23 chest hair 3/24/23 weakness 3/25/23 scent, teasing 4/10/23 hair pulling

Summary: An exercise in celebrating the human messiness (and messy humanness) that Dream finds so attractive in Hob

On AO3

Hob is sheathed to the hilt in Dream's arse and holding himself desperately in check, Dream trembling in the grip of climax astride him, prick in hand. Long stripes of come decorate Hob's stomach already and there is still more dripping between Dream's fingers, smearing into the hair trailing down from Hob's navel.

"You've made a right mess of me, love," Hob gasps, breathless, waiting only for Dream to come down from the high enough that he can resume.

The rigid lines of Dream's body collapse at last and he pitches forward, a satisfied smile curling his mouth. His wet hand he wipes purposefully in the thick hair across Hob's chest.

"And I would have you. Make, the same of me," he breathes, accompanied by a sinuous roll of his hips, the tightening of his body on Hob's cock—and that's all the sign Hob needs.

He considers for an instant surging up and over, tumbling Dream onto his back and driving him into the mattress; ultimately, though, he'd rather finish just like this tonight: hands tight on Dream's hips, keeping him lifted into exactly the right position, Dream's hands braced on his chest and Dream's heavy-lidded gaze holding his, fucking fast and smooth up into Dream easy as anything and thrice as hot. It only takes a moment until he comes at last, clutching Dream's hips flush against his own as it hits and making the commanded mess within him.

Dream settles down over him as he goes boneless in the aftermath, laying atop him fully with absolutely no care for the semen smearing between them. He doesn't even pull off of Hob's cock properly, instead letting natural softening separate them a moment later; there is a wet squelching sound as Hob's dick slips free and then Dream is kissing him, languid and sated.

Hob kisses him in return, slow hands running up Dream's body and back down, blissed out and content. But then Dream shifts, draws back from the kiss, and Hob is reminded of the mess between them.

"Ugh," he says, poking at the wet smears on his chest. "Wow. That's…a lot."

Dream smirks. "I enjoy the sight of you wearing my spend."

"Clearly." Hob makes a face, wiping his fingers clean in a bit of chest hair that's still dry. "Well, if we're going to make a habit of it. Maybe I should shave all this off."

Dream stiffens, pushes up further, gives him the most affronted look possible. "You will not."

"Oh, I won't?"

"Hob Gadling. I will not allow it."

Hob is ready to say something lightheartedly over-dramatic about 'you DARE presume to tell me what I can or cannot shave', but something in Dream's tone stays him. There's a note of flagrant alarm underneath the imperiousness, and Hob smirks as the lightbulb goes on.

"Got a real weakness for body hair, haven't you."

Dream gives him an unimpressed look that nevertheless has shades of smug satisfaction in it. "I have a preference—"

"Sorry, yes, a preference for body hair."

"—for your body, and all its features, as it is now."

"Including all this hair."

"Yes, including this hair." Dream is running his fingers through it now, heedless of the sticky mess, clearly enthralled with the texture. "It is. Delightful. I enjoy, the feel of it, against the skin of this form. It is very much a part of you, and I would not see it removed."

"It really does make cleanup a sight more difficult, though."

"Then I will. Assist you," Dream purrs, and suddenly he's got his tongue on Hob's chest, licking the smeared and half-dried semen out of the hair with thorough, unhurried strokes and Hob's not really inclined to go again quite so soon but this…this cat-like grooming, it's almost enough to change his mind.

"You make a convincing argument, love, but I don't know if I'm sold," he says, voice wobbling just a little bit.

Dream makes eye contact as he finishes a gloriously long swipe; he smirks, runs the tip of his tongue along his upper lip. Still holding Hob's gaze, he raises up and reaches behind himself, returns with messy fingers and smears them deliberately over Hob's chest, and then his tongue is back at its work again.

Hob drops his head back with a groan; his dick is not going to get hard again for a good while yet but by god, it's certainly trying. "Okay. Okay. I concede; the hair stays." Dream makes a pleased little sound into his chest and Hob feels himself smiling fondly. "Still need a shower, once you've finished there."

Dream lifts again to regard him intently. "Then I will assist you, in the shower as well. But not yet."

"Oh?"

Dream closes his eyes, rubs his face against Hob's wet chest hair like he's savoring the feel of it against his skin, and inhales deep and slow.

"You smell of your sweat, of your spend, of yourself." His eyes are still closed, and the drag of cheek-to-chest reminds Hob of nothing so much as a cat scent-marking. "You smell of my spend; you smell of me. You smell of the love we make, and I would. Linger, awhile, to appreciate it."

"Ah." Hob lets his smile turn into a grin. "Got a thing—preference, sorry—for my scent as well as my hairy chest, then?"

Dream shifts atop him, shimmying gracefully down his body a ways. "Yes," he says, succinctly, and licks a slow stripe up Hob's well-furred abdomen where the mess is thickest.

Hob bites his lip, settles his hands lightly on Dream's shoulders, and lets him work.

"You smell exquisite, here," Dream says moments later, nose pressed into the wet thicket of curls at the base of Hob's cock, and while that's never been the word that Hob would use, he's not going to argue. Especially not when Dream is taking him into his mouth, soft as he is, and suckling him clean again. It's a sharp sensation, close to being too much with how recently he came, and he groans.

Dream releases him a moment later, laves wetly over his balls, hands settling on the insides of his thighs and pushing his legs further open for easier access. Hob spreads them readily, happy enough to comply.

"I would have you. Spend for me again, Hob," Dream breathes then, a soft exhalation against Hob's tender flesh. "Into my mouth, where I might. Savor it."

Hob whimpers, arousal kindling in his gut, but his dick only manages an interested twitch. "The spirit is willing, love, but the flesh is of the waking world and needs just a little more time?"

"Then perhaps—" Dream's hands slide underneath Hob's thighs, pushing up, back, encouraging his knees toward his chest "—I might find a way to assist you, in your recovery." He noses his way under Hob's balls, laps up the runaway come that has gathered there, and then his tongue is probing slickly at Hob's arsehole.

"Oh yes," Hob gasps, grabbing the back of his thighs to hold himself open for Dream, who hums his pleasure and goes to work in earnest.

There is nothing quite like being opened up by Dream's tongue; he shapes it as long and as thick as it needs to be and his saliva is better than any lube. Hob is panting in very short order, pleasure blossoming through him as Dream delves deeper and deeper, softening and stretching him. Dream seeks out his prostate, lavishes it with curling rolls of the tip of his tongue, plays with it lovingly until Hob cannot see straight.

"Please," he breathes, when it's gone on long enough that he's dizzy with how good it is and ready for a proper fucking. "Dream—"

Dream slurps out of him, lifts his head so Hob can't help but see the hedonistic expression on his face when his over-long tongue licks all around his mouth before shrinking away, and then Dream is rising up and flowing into position over him, lining up and sinking in with the same smooth motion. Hob arches into it with a whine of satisfaction, letting go his legs as Dream bottoms out; he wraps them around Dream's bony hips, urging him closer, deeper. Dream bends down to kiss him, draws out and fucks back into him smooth and slick, again, and again, and Hob groans into Dream's open mouth before his head lolls bonelessly, eyes rolling.

"Fuck, Dream—" He shudders, grasps helplessly at Dream's shoulders as Dream nuzzles against his throat, still fucking him with long gliding strokes. It feels good, so good, better than practically anything and Hob has just enough presence of mind to remember the preferences Dream has confessed to; he loosens his legs a tiny bit around Dream, just enough to let Dream's body shift between them with each thrust so he'll feel the hair on Hob's thighs rubbing over his skin. He sends the thought out as a vivid daydream, how the slim prick in his arse is raising gooseflesh all over him, how that makes the hair stand up on his thighs, perfect for Dream to brush against with every motion.

Dream inhales sharply against Hob's throat, shudders, lets out the most wanton sound Hob's heard from him yet and moves faster, fucking into him harder. One hand moves to Hob's thigh, grips it tightly and strokes down the back of it, fingertips scratching at the hair; Hob grins, threads a hand gently around the back of Dream's head and tucks him close underneath his raised chin. He unhooks one calf from around Dream's hip and runs it slowly down over his buttocks and thigh, brushing the texture of his leg hair against smooth alabaster skin. Dream whines, short and sharp, bites at Hob's throat and starts fucking in earnest.

Hob just hangs on for the ride, awash in the hazy pleasure of getting fucked without his own cock clamoring for attention. The angle Dream's at would be awkward for a regular human but Dream being Dream of course manages effortlessly, smooth gliding thrusts that hit hard and fast while he sucks tender bruises all along Hob's neck. Then abruptly he raises up, out of Hob's hold, leans back and pulls Hob's hips up into his lap; his hands settle on Hob's waist as Hob wraps his legs loosely around Dream's hips, adapting to the inclined angle.

Dream eases his prior pace, pulsing deep up into Hob and holding, relaxing then thrusting again. His eyes rake over Hob's body, sleepy prick to furred abdomen to the pelt of his chest and up to meet Hob's gaze, where they hold on another languid thrust. Hob can't keep back the moan that trembles out of him, doesn't even try, and the slow little smile that lights Dream's eyes says indeed that was the right choice. Dream likes to know his pleasure, delights in the orchestra of sounds he can draw from Hob, and Hob has no interest in denying him that enjoyment.

Dream thrusts in deep and stills, slides his hands slowly up Hob's body, along his sides, into his armpits and on up the arms themselves, pushing them up over Hob's head. Hob lets himself be moved easily, warm and hazy in the moment as Dream crosses his wrists and pins them to the mattress, holding Hob's eyes as he leans close above him. He circles his hips, a lazy thrust that makes Hob's breath catch in his throat, and smooths his hands back down to Hob's chest.

It's clear in his demeanor that Hob should leave his arms where they were placed, so of course he does.

Dream presses into him again, still deep and good and the furthest thing from hurried. He curls his fingers in Hob's wet chest hair, traces patterns through it slowly, enjoying himself at his leisure. Every thrust sends pleasant warmth seeping into Hob's veins, heightened by the play of Dream's touches, and he would be utterly content to stay like this for hours, if Dream should ask it of him.

Dream bends down and kisses Hob, deep and unhurried, still fucking him at a lazy pace. He nuzzles up under Hob's chin when he leaves off, and Hob tilts his head back towards his crossed wrists, giving Dream room to nibble or bite again if he likes. But Dream just breathes him in, licks up the length of his throat and and then moves sideways, across his collarbone and into his armpit, where he buries his face with a sigh. "Divine," Dream murmurs, inhaling the scent of him. "You are. Fragrant, with exertion, with the needs and wants of your human body." He mouths at the thick hair there, ardently, and the languid pace of his hips picks up. "I would taste—" His tongue laps firmly behind his words and he groans. "I would. Consume you, Hob—"

"I would let you," Hob breathes, hands flexing above his head as if they truly were restrained, everything in him thrilling to the want in Dream's voice, the worshipful press of Dream's mouth to his armpit. "Darling, I would let you devour me—"

Dream keens, drags his face back up across Hob's chest, across the sweat and saliva and remnants of semen there, scenting it all as he fucks Hob now with abandon. His hands are clenched on Hob's hips, nails digging little crescents into Hob's skin as he moves faster, harder, his cock perfectly angled to punch against Hob's prostate at the peak of every thrust and Hob arches into it, gasping open-mouthed, arms still crossed above his head. It's good, it's so good getting railed like this, Dream's panting little whines against his chest only pushing him higher and he can feel his own dick waking up again at last. He moans, loud and low, breathless and encouraging as Dream speeds up, rhythm growing erratic; when Dream cries out and buries himself deep at last, trembling, Hob abandons the pretense of restraint and wraps a hand around the back of Dream's head, holds him cradled to the hollow of his throat while Dream's spend blooms hot and wet inside him.

As soon as Dream's orgasm lets him go he's wriggling free of Hob's gentle hold, pulling out with a squelch and slithering down Hob's body, pushing his thighs up and apart and diving between them. His tongue darts over Hob's open hole, laps inside once, twice, again and again, licking his own spend out of Hob with a desperately hungry little noise.

"Fuck," Hob gasps, squirming at the press of Dream's tongue, alight and swollen with pleasure inside. The sweetest sort of ache is rising in the wake of the pounding Dream has given him and his cock is standing now at full attention, finally ready, twitching at the wet little sounds Dream is making.

Dream lifts away and Hob is disappointed for half a second, and then Dream's slick wet tongue is dragging eagerly up the length of his dick. "There you are," Dream breathes, the hitch in his voice both wanton and hungry. "I await your offering, my Hob—" He laps at the head, makes a show of savoring the taste, then takes him fully in, tongue squirming like a living thing as he goes down.

Hob moans, enthralled by the sight, the feel, riveted as always by the sheer unfathomable reality that Dream of the Endless likes sucking his cock; Dream's eyes flick up to his, hold them while he slides down and back up, the red of his lips stretched prettily around Hob. He is skillful and enthusiastic, making sounds in his throat like he's consuming some posh delicacy and Hob moans along with him, overwhelmed. It's so good he can't see straight, can't properly breathe, and the fact that he gets to have this is just. It's amazing.

Dream pulls off with a lingering lick, runs his mouth sideways down the shaft, over Hob's balls and then his tongue is squirming back into Hob's arse, curling deep before withdrawing. He raises his head and lifts up, poises over Hob's cock and locks eyes with Hob again as he briefly opens his mouth, for show. There's a wad of spend on his tongue, his own retrieved from Hob's body, and then he's closed his lips, is letting it dribble between them to decorate the head of Hob's prick in wet white-ish rivulets.

It's possibly the hottest thing Hob has ever seen and he whines, cock jumping; Dream's fingertips take hold of the base delicately, keeping Hob still while he finishes drizzling his own come over Hob's dick like he's glazing a pastry. He takes his time licking it all back off again, thorough and relentless; Hob is tense and shaking by the time Dream decides he has finished.

And then the wet tip of Dream's tongue is tracing patterns along the underside of his prick, worrying at the little seam of flesh beneath the head, right where Hob is most sensitive and Hob feels orgasm building fast in his blood. "Fuck—darling—" he gasps, pushing clumsily at Dream's shoulders, because Dream had specifically said he wanted it in his mouth and there are much better angles to accomplish that than with Hob flat on his back. "Up—your mouth—want to see—"

Dream, bless him, understands Hob's half-coherent babble and slides off the bed to his knees. Hob scrambles to his feet in front him, leans shakily back against the wall, takes his dick in hand and strokes it once, twice, then holds it steady. Dream leans up, mouth open, tongue out, inviting; Hob lays just his tip against Dream's tongue while Dream holds his eyes, unblinking. His hands come to rest on Hob's thighs; he smooths them gently through the thick hair, scratches softly and Hob whimpers, slaps his dick very lightly against Dream's tongue, whimpers again at the eager sound that Dream makes. He's so fucking close; he can feel it rising hot in his gut, drawing tight in his balls.

Dream flicks his tongue, bouncing the tip of Hob's cock, then does it more gently, little squirming licks right in the very best spot and Hob sees stars. Dream teases his leaking slit, licks him underneath again, wriggles his tongue right there and Hob gasps, sobs, trembling ferociously on the edge. He sweeps the fringe of Dream's hair from his forehead, threads shaking fingers through it, holding gently; Dream tips his face up just that little bit further, curls the tip of his tongue just so, eyes full of darkness and starlight and locked with Hob's—and then Hob is coming, a sweet molten rush spilling thick and warm into Dream's waiting mouth.

Dream moans, the most sensually-fulfilled sound Hob's ever heard, and strains forward, nails digging into Hob's thighs as he takes the entirety of Hob's offering on his tongue—and Hob can do nothing but give it to him, grunting breathlessly with each pulse that throbs out of him.

Dream's mouth closes around him as the orgasm subsides; Hob has an instant to register his cock settling in the puddle on Dream's tongue and then Dream swallows, drawing him further in. Hob gasps sharply, trembling, hand tightening in Dream's hair, and then Dream sucks on his twitching length, draws another spurt of come from him that's swallowed down as greedily as the rest.

"Fuck!" Hob jerks inadvertently on Dream's hair and Dream inhales sharply through his nose, mouth still full of Hob's cock. He sucks again, harder, continuous, eyes flicking up to Hob's from beneath sooty lashes, bleeding back to vividly blue. Hob swears again, trembling, overstimulated; Dream's lips are flush against the wet curls at Hob's groin and he's sucking, swallowing, nursing—milking Hob dry for all he's worth, still clinging tightly to Hob's thighs. Both Hob's hands are buried in Dream's wild hair now, hanging on desperately; he knows he's pulling, knows he hasn't ever cleared this with Dream, but Dream is not objecting and Hob cannot for the life of him make himself let go.

"Dream—fuck—I can't—Dream, Dream—!" Dream doesn't stop, shows no sign that he plans to stop; Hob is swiftly passing the point where the continued stimulation has any pleasure left to it and finally uses his grip in Dream's hair to haul him bodily off his cock, collapsing to his knees as soon as it slides free. His hands are still clenched in Dream's hair and Dream is gazing at him, heavy-lidded and dangerous, mouth wet and ruby red, half open, inviting.

Hob dives into it, loosening his grip on Dream's hair at last, kissing him fiercely between panting breaths. "You magnificent, divine, insatiable creature," he manages, stroking dark feathery strands back from Dream's cheeks, settling that beautiful sharp angular face between his hands. "The hair pulling wasn't too much? I didn't hurt you?"

"You cannot hurt this form if I do not allow it," Dream replies, smug, satisfied, every inch the cat who got the cream and Hob is aware of how terribly aptly cliche that thought is right this second but he does not care, not in the slightest.

"Well, good, that's…that's good," Hob says, still catching his breath. "Gets a little hard to keep control when you go feral like that."

"You did promise that I might devour you," Dream says, utterly unrepentant, and Hob absolutely has to kiss him again at that.

Dream is perfectly amenable, kissing back with wet enthusiasm, open and eager and still slick with traces of Hob's orgasm. His tongue charms its way into Hob's mouth, apparently still intent on the devouring, and then he is rising up on his knees, tipping Hob's head back, bearing him over and down to the carpet and crawling atop him.

"Your smell, your taste, you are. Positively ambrosial," Dream breathes, scenting along his throat before briefly reclaiming his mouth. "I would have you again—" His tongue darts between Hobs lips, a fleeting tease. "I would have you fill me, repeatedly, in every orifice, until I am. Overflowing, with your spend—"

"Sweet christ—" Hob surges up to kiss him, rolls them over so that Dream is pinned beneath him before breaking away with a gasp. He is so aroused, and his dick is so very far from being anything close to ready. "You'll be the death of me at this rate, love. Best move to the Dreaming if you want to continue."

"Indeed." Dream lifts a hand, reaching for Hob's forehead.

"Whoa, hold on now—" Hob twists to avoid the touch, catches Dream's hand to plant a kiss to his fingertips instead. "You are not knocking me out and leaving me on my bedroom floor in this mess while we ravish one another in the Dreaming. Mind your manners, Dreamlord."

The expression on Dream's face would be a pout on anyone less regally held. "I would have you now. While you are still so. Fragrant."

"Impatient. Insatiable. I adore you." Hob kisses his fingertips again between each declaration and then stands, pulls Dream up after him. "I'm delighted that you so love the natural mess of my humble human body but unless you're going to snuggle down with me here, I'd prefer to get cleaned up a bit. Help me in the shower, I will change the sheets, and then you can tuck me into bed properly to join you in your realm. Where I will dream myself as 'fragrantly ambrosial' as you like and do my very best to stuff you so full of come that it will be leaking from you for hours. Days. Weeks, even."

"Such promises you make, Hob Gadling," Dream purrs, obviously mollified, and follows as Hob leads him to the shower.

=== Started: 3/21/23 Drafted: 11/26/23 Posted: 11/27/23

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴅᴀʏ 5 : ɴᴀ ᴊᴀᴇᴍɪɴ & ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀᴜ

□ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ᴊᴀᴇᴍɪɴ x ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

□ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ᴅᴏᴍ! ᴊᴀᴇᴍɪɴ, ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʀᴏʏᴀʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ! ᴊᴀᴇᴍɪɴ, ꜱɪᴅᴇ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏᴍ/ꜱᴜʙ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄꜱ, ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʜᴀɴᴅᴊᴏʙ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

□ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ꜰʀᴇꜱʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ.. ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ.

□ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ : @exololyunho

□ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ : @azriel-owns-my-heart @taehyungisminee @woosanbby @k-drizzle @kodzukein @exololyunho @wownajaemin @aikyubi @astrid-peach @sup-dallyboy [ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ : ʜᴇʀᴇ ]

□ ᴀᴇʀᴀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ : ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴅɪᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ- ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ɪᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ

□ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

You close your eyes shut and bite onto your bottom to prevent yourself from hissing in pain. His teeth slashed and cut deep into the layers of your skin. Your hands fall down next to your side in exhaustion of trying to fight against the monster holding you in his arms in such a grip. "L-Let me go, Please." Your weak voice tried to fight against the figure who had his face buried in the crook of your neck. His hands grasp your waist tightly and you feel teeth slip out of your skin. Your vision turns red and you feel a foreign pain erupt in your body. His lips sucks around the wound on your neck and you hear him moan lowly from the fresh sweet metallic taste of your blood.

Your nostrils flare at the smell of blood but so unlike... Of Human Blood smell. Pain shoots through your body from everywhere and your knees become weak making you almost fall. Luckily, his hands held you up preventing you from bruising your already weak body. Gathering up all the strength that was left in you, you spoke out to him in a shaky voice. "W-hat a-are y-ou?" He pulls away from the crook of your neck and you finally settle in his perfect features. He looked so.... Human. What was he? He smirked before replying, "Your Blood Sucker, my angel." Your eyes widen before everything turns black as your body collapses from exhaustion.

Your eyes flutter slightly before opening up to face the quite dark room. The flashbacks of the moments before flash in front of your eyes make you instantly rise up onto your back from the bed. Your flinch when you see the door open and a quiet tall black figure enters the room. Your eyes oddly but quickly settle in his foreign features. Your figure scurried away from the bed to go away from the man.. You couldn't say it was a man anymore. Your body quivered with fear as the unknown beautiful man starts approaching and you are very sure that it wasn't the one from earlier. Your fingers pinch your skin to see if it was reality only for you to hiss moments later. "W-Who are you?" His lips curl up in a smirk as he continues his footsteps which were trailing towards your shivering figure. "So bad of Jaemin to not introduce me to this beauty. Hello precious." Your eyes glint with fear when his figure traps you against the wall.

Before you could utter out a word towards him, you hear a husky scoff. The man in front of you didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Smirking to himself he turns around to face the other man walking inside the room. A strange relieved feeling settled in you when you recognized who it was. "Don't you think it's bad to touch something that's not yours. Isn't it right, Haechan-ah?" The supposed Haechan guy just rolled his eyes at the man in front of him whose eyes darkened at him. Haechan turns back to give you a wink, "I'll get back to you later, precious."

He turns his head back to look back at him, Haechan gives him a playful grin. "A Royal blood turning an innocent human? Everyone will have so much fun with this sweet piece of information" He leans down next to his ear. "Especially the paparazzi, don't you think Jaemin-ah?" Jaemin's eyes turn red and his hands grip onto his collar harshly, "They wouldn't have the 'fun' if you keep your mouth shut, Lee Haechan. What do you even want huh?" Haechan mirrors his actions by grasping onto his collars, "Her, her fresh sweet blood." Haechan smirks at the tick in his jaw, "Don't worry Jaemin-ah, you can take your time with her. Before you eventually have to decide to share her with me Or be forced into... I hope you know where."

Saying that he pushes Jaemin away making him jerk backwards slightly and brush his shoulder before walking away. Jaemin takes a deep breath and approaches you with slow footsteps. His figure settles in front of you, and he swiftly pulls you towards his chest by your waist making you gasp under your breath. Your eyes make contact with his bloodshot ones and you're instantly drawn to the swirling dark magic in those eyes. His lips curl up in the corner, and he leans down to trail kisses up your neck. "W-What are you doing? Who are you?" Parting away from your skin, he places his lips right below your lips.

"Your owner." "W-What?" "It's taking you long enough to figure out honey. I, Na Jaemin, am your owner. Welcome to the world of Blood sucking monsters, my angel. You're now one of us. A Vampire." You let out a scoff not being able to believe whatever he told you. Jaemin knew what he had to do to make you believe that, his tongue slides over his teeth and the skin instantly gets slashed by his shard canine teeth, drawing blood. Your whole body vibrates at the smell of blood and your skin heats up when your eyes notice the way the blood slipped out of the corner of his mouth. You threw yourself at him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

You moan at the fresh taste of blood, your tongue soaking up the sweet liquid. Jaemin instantly picks you up by grabbing your thighs and walks over to the bed. Your lips do not break away from his when he hovers over on the bed. You feel yourself giving in, you feel yourself losing everything to the lust. Jaemin's hands roam around your body, feeling all your curves. You moan into the kiss when he slips his hand below your shirt and gives your boobs a squeeze. Your hands easily slipped down towards his belt. Your lips moved on their own, trailing their kisses down to his neck. Your tongue brushed over his soft milky white skin, before you let your teeth sink down his skin. Jaemin lets out a hiss at your action but nonetheless let's his hand travel down to your panties.

His fingers slid down your panties off your legs while he couldn't careless about the way your lips sucked on his blood. He wasn't Royal blood for just being born into the family, it was also the blood he had. God knew what consequences he got himself into when he decided to turn you into one of him, a fragile innocent human. His fingers rub over your clit making you pull away from his neck and throw your head back in pleasure. "You like that angel? Like the way my fingers are rubbing your clit over the mess you've made?" "Y-YES" You let out a squeak after his finger flicks at your clit, "Yes what?" "Yes M-Master?" Jaemin grinned contently, his finger slipped inside your hole and curled up instantly making you arch your back from shock.

Your hands unbuckled his belt and threw it away before you let your hands slip inside his boxers. Jaemin moans from the way your cold fingers wrapped themselves around his cock. Your hands slowly move up and down his cock, as you whimper into his ear. "Master, Please, give me your cock. Please, I need your cock in me so badly." Your conscious self would be ashamed of you right now for begging the man who changed your life for no good. "Beg, Angel." Jaemin whispers grinning to his ears as he increases the pace of his fingers, curling up when his digits are deep inside you. He could feel the way you were clenching around his fingers, soon enough you came hard around his fingers.

Your hands fastened their lace instantly, jerking him off while he moaned slowly into your ear. "You're doing so well angel, I'm so close to Cumming all over your pretty hands." Your mind turned hazy from his sweet nothings, "W-Want to make master feel good. Want to be a good girl for him." His lips pressed kisses down your neck, "You're doing so good my angel. My good girl." Your free hand slipped down to play with his balls, caressing them. His cock starts to twitch in your hands and you moan intentionally from the feeling of his cock squirting out loads of cum all over your hand. The cum dripped down to your thighs, while Jaemin took deep breaths to overcome his high.

Pulling away from the crook of your neck, his lusty red eyes stared deep into your eyes. "Now, Let me mark you angel. Let me mark you mine forever."

© wooyoungmybelovedhusband. All right reserved. Do not copy or steal my works.

[tenebrius-excellium]

I don’t know how this narrative principle is properly called in English but today I finished reading an academic paper on “backend vs. frontend motivation” in stories and I am nerding off big-time.

One of the most important elements of modern media to me, especially in film, is for it to be motivated from the ‘front’, that means from the beginning. You gotta have a starting conflict so well fleshed out that it justifies all which comes next in a domino chain of such bulletproof logical consequence that it cannot be questioned until it inevitably culminates in the grand, satisfying finish. Only then is an ending good and only then can it be truly enjoyable.

The best example of which that remains to this day is How To Train Your Dragon.

In my opinion this movie leaves no room for a different ending. Were it to be replayed thousands and thousands of times, it would always unfold the same way. It’s that solid. Solid in its core conflict, in its character designs, in its stakes. It would choose to happen the exact same way again every time. Everything is in-universe consistent and character-consistent to a T. I believe luck, or chance, played a role in the creation of this movie because humanity is just not able to think up something as perfect as this on purpose.

While the sequels are - generally speaking - good, the failure to recreate the artistic mastery of the first movie can be seen in them. Glimpses of the original magic do appear more often than I had feared, which pleasantly surprised me for both the second and the third movie. However, both sequels have obvious weak points. The first movie has none. None. It’s somehow flawless.

I attribute its success to strong frontend motivation. There is an age-old war yet it threatens the current generation’s survival as acutely as it did on the first day. The People are tired and it’s either the annihilation of the enemy or resigning themselves to poverty and death. Berk is backed into a strategic corner and while Stoick is far from giving up, he doesn’t know where to take fresh ideas from. The absurd third possibility of talking peace with the dragons comes from the innocence of a child human and a child dragon. The grown-ups couldn’t have done it, yet so unexpectedly balance is achieved. It’s brilliant.

Httyd1: Shitty war -> needs to end (peacefully if possible, because the vikings are not bad people...but Stoick doesn’t see hope). + DRAGONS.

Httyd2: Hiccup Will Be Chief, therefore let’s throw some growth at him and kill off Stoick so that the two won’t fight about how to run the village later (because that would be in their characters).

Httyd3: The Dragons Will Leave, therefore let’s create an artificial villain, and a convenient dragon girlfriend, and make Toothless ooc to achieve it.

See, Httyd gradually declines into using backend motivation and that’s why the third movie works even less than the second. At least Httyd2 had a strong middle, that is, from Flying With Mother til Hiccup starts talking to Drago. Don’t make the mistake of buying into the rest: Nowhere was the topic of Hiccup becoming Chief even a thing before Httyd2. Also, Hiccup behaved ooc with his sole focus on dragons (at the so-uncaring-that-it-must-be-intentional expense of humans) and the no-kill rule. And Stoick died not from a plasma blast, but for plot convenience.

The third movie, in turn, gave Hiccup his original character back and bestowed a glow-up onto him and Astrid and their relationship, but at the cost of Toothless’ personality and backstory... and the general in-universe logic, such as Grimmel’s hollow arc (stressing his intelligence when he’s clearly NOT). You see, both movies have their strengths, but it just doesn’t work when the creators think up the ending first and are willing to bend everything else, however painfully, to achieve exactly that desired ending.

The newest marvel of frontend motivation done right is of course Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. The reason why it’s just so good is because the arc of Puss eventually losing his lives was not a forced narrative, simply conjured up to Have Puss Do More Jiggling On Screen. It was an innate part of his self, already there in his character from the start, and was inevitably going to become a problem some day. The creators made the most of it by dealing with it not after 8 more daring adventures that were clearly fabricated to generate money in theaters (what a nightmare to think about), but by insinuating that Puss has already lived some of those lives, giving him depth. Because we have not seen all of them, yet our famed hero has been shaped by them.

One could argue that the quest for the Wishing Star was a little too cheap of a narrative. But Puss has been a serious character stuck in a world full of dumb magical creatures and artefacts before. That’s literally the universe he lives in. So it works. And ohh, how magnificently it works.

So anyway. Front-end motivation, people. Has usually better characters too because the plot is tied to their consistency. It makes the ending of their story depend on themselves, not on ex-universe tinkering or budgets. Use it more, please and thank you.

[afriendlyirin]

Just finished the final season of Hilda. It was... okay, but felt like it lost its sense of direction.

Maybe I'm in the minority, but I was never very interested in questions about Hilda's backstory. We didn't need to know who her family was and why she has blue hair. We didn't need to not know those things, but I don't feel like they added anything significant. For me, the appeal of the series was always in how Hilda interacts with external forces, not her internality.

And unfortunately I think the season really flopped on that one. I was hoping we would get to see how Hilda interacts with genuinely malevolent entities, then nope actually the faeries are good. The whole season felt like it was really confused about what it was trying to say and why. The giants really are hurting people and it is genuinely difficult to coexist with them, but driving them off is still bad because...? Frog-spider eats people, but it doesn't eat humans so it's fine to have it wandering around?

Then the final episode is just whiplash after whiplash -- Hilda has to rescue Anders, then OH WAIT Hilda has to go back to rescue Johanna, then she can't leave but then she can leave but Johanna can't leave but Astrid's going to strike a deal but the deal doesn't work but then it does and then never mind she doesn't have to make a deal at all. Also the faeries are scary and evil and abduct people but actually never mind they're good and were only abducting Hilda's family for good reasons but the island itself is actually evil and it's a stickler for rules and bargains except it's completely opaque what those rules are, sometimes bargains can be renegotiated but sometimes they can't, and it's willing to accept a blood sacrifice just for the sake of it even though it gains no benefit from it?

Like... just... WHAT. I think my head needs time to stop spinning.

(Also, I'm really annoyed that after three seasons of Hilda learning that cutting Johanna out of her decisions always ends badly and Johanna willingly going adventuring with her this entire season Hilda still cuts her out in the finale, even though it's the stupidest possible time to do so because this is going to be a long operation so she's obviously going to find out. Way to regress on all that character development, Hilda.)

And after all that and answering all those questions about Hilda's heritage, it still never answered the question of why the Fairy Isle is dying, even though that seems pretty relevant to, um, everything?! The story didn't seem sure if it even was dying -- the corruption manifests itself to stop Hilda's escape, so that's clearly something the Isle has control over and not a sign of weakness, but then Astrid asserts the Isle is dying. BUT WHY THOUGH. I assumed it had something to do with there being no more faerie abductions, but then Astrid claims it "doesn't need new blood" precisely because it's dying, so the two things are unrelated. I guess van Gale will figure it out, but we never will.

In the end I don't think it did said anything really different, meaningful, or interesting with its magical creatures this season, which is a real shame when it's done that so consistently throughout the rest of the series. It really feels to me like the creators just didn't know where to take the series after Hilda and the Mountain King. I don't dislike the new season enough to wish the series had ended there, but nothing here lives up to it.

[discodyke-doggirl]

okay considering we’re now a system I should actually make an introduction lol

Hello!! we’re an 18 year old system of not a single human being !

Hiii :D I’m Astrid, I use any pronouns! im the “original one”, per se. other names for me are “kicked puppycore”, “sadist bait” and “the perfect prey”! I have three lovely owners/moms (@xenasaur who is also my Goddess, @justanotherhornycatgirl and @cheries0-days) and apart from that i am also just a cool dog :3c

Hello! My name is Sophie. Depending on the mood I’m either an 8’6 muscular demon woman or 5’8 weak demon girl so writing an introduction is hard. No matter the mood I’m always a mother though, that’s for sure <3

Hey! I’m Danyelle (she/it). I’m this system’s friendly neighborhood sadistic sociopath! I listen to metal and try to help Astrid in her daily life. Apart from that I mostly just chill <3

There are more but most of them probably won't be talking here lmao :3 tbh most of these will be me!

DNI: TERFS, transmysoginists general bigots. Apart from that it's mostly on a case-by-case basis lmao

Minors can browse through here as it's unreasonable to expect them to not be horny ever and it's generally preferable for them to find horny things from safe communities instead of whatever shit is on pornhub, but please Don't be directly horny towards me (or any adults for that matter, stay safe!!) because I will very much block you.

[sorushing]

Okay Okay Sorusing you've got me intrigued: What is FLY?!!!!

thanks for asking @sanfangirl !!! It’s my favorite things ever: superheroes, secret identities, and Hiccstrid. and modern AU, of course.

(So, FLY was the title I picked after seeing one of those motivational posts of it being an acronym for “first love yourself”. In the original iteration of this AU, it used to be more important, but the actually flying is also important lol. It’s not really that good of a title anymore but eh.)

—

This is my superhero AU (“really, not much to know” is actually the AU of this AU) in which Astrid is training to be a superhero sidekick at school. Her family name is disgraced, so she cannot become a “solo” hero without lots of extra work in college. She has extremely good control over her water powers.

in this universe, everyone born in “The Above” (artificial flying islands above th earhipelago after a war) is born with something called a “karyon”: a mark/bead on the neck that grants them powers by using a particle called dust.

I have an entire 10 minute explanation on dust that is plot-relevant but I’m skipping it right now for brevity’s sake

one day, she is confronted with an odd situation: a vigilante who’s powers don’t work how powers SHOULD work, fighting a new kind of villain that recently popped up. He doesn’t have a karyon, and neither do these new villains who seem to permanently be beserk and incapable of human speech or thought.

after this odd meeting, she wakes up in the middle of the night, outside her house, after having an odd dream, and her powers are…off. Instead of water manipulation, she can now fire off odd spikes…and why can she smell so well?!

—

She eventually discovers more about the situation: these new villains are people controlled by a villain that the vigilante - whom she’s dubbed “black” - calls “The Queen”, and are being hypnotised to do her bidding.

she eventually agrees to help him out, and joins him in his fight against her, since the heroes aren’t doing anything about the situation and she knows they won’t budge any time soon.

The vigilante calls himself “Night Fury” which as her laughing at first: him? Name himself after the unholy offspring of lightning and death that all of the Seven Families boasted to have survived encounters with?

But then she realised that his powers fit the creature to a T: the lightning. The super speed. She invisibility.

and then, more puzzle pieces click. She’s somehow gotten the powers of a Nadder. All of these new villains are dragon themed…so the Queen must have some obsession with the ancestral dragons.

things spiral from there.

—

on hiccup’s side of things, life isn’t looking great at all: the only person in the above who doesn’t have a karyon.

he has three and they all don’t work properly at all. They even cause him so much harm that he had to undergo surgery to get one removed.

His father is the shining beacon of his family, the leader of the Seven, superheroes of epic proportions who are gods among men, essentially.

his mother is Skullcrusher’s second in command who has control over the Alpha Matrix, a device that monitors all superpower usage. (And a certain kind of superhuman but shhh he doesn’t know that)

and then, there’s him, Hiccup. he’s just a screw-up. He is not worth of either family name and knows the other relatives in the council are dying to kick him out and leave him nameless. To make him a nobody.

So it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest when his father sends him to live with his aunt to avoid the media.

hiccup knows it’s to hide the fact that his son is weak, or that he even HAS a son, but alas.

-

when hiccup was young, a supervillain did something to his karyons. Hiccup knows better than to ask which villain.

For whenever he asks; his father or mother just shake their head or freeze, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

he knows his karyon was messed up by a villain, and someday? Someday he WILL find out which villain and give him a piece of his mind. —

things don’t exactly begin to look up once the dreams start.

dreams in which is body doesn’t ache whenever he gets into contract with high concentrations of dust.

Dreams in which he can freely leap across rooftops, dreams in which he is fighting villains effortlessly from afar with his lightning powers - well not completely effortlessly, but still!! - and shows great mastery over his lightning and super speed-

powers which he doesn’t have. At all.

or…does he?

things derail further once a certain blonde girl in blue begins to pop up in his dreams, stubborn, fierce, and…wait isn’t that his classmate?!

-

also another fun fact: Gothi is a tattooist in this AU.

—

eventually, the other dragon riders would show up…but I’m not that far yet.

———

this is my oldest au and the one that has been reworked the most.

anyways I think I should stop here before I type an entire essay. Thanks for asking :D

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Feverishly Delirious

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 7. Set during RttE. Astrid has a reaction to the dragon root shot in her leg.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Heather, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Stormfly

Pairing: /

Words: 836

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Restrained

Whumpee: Astrid

Author’s Notes: Loved writing this Astrid whump!

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

“Astrid. Astrid!” Hiccup holds her hands as she fights him. She tries to rip them out of his grip, but she’s not at her usual strength, so she can’t. It’s a mercy on him. If she wasn’t as weak as she currently is, she would’ve punched him in the face at least once.

Astrid is on her back on her bed, the covers and her pillow everywhere. He kneels on the edge, trying to keep her from fighting everyone as they aren’t the only Riders here. Fishlegs stands by with bandages, the dragonroot antidote, and other medicinal supplies. Heather kneels by her head, fingers running through her matted hair. Meanwhile, Snotlout and the twins stand by helplessly.

“Astrid, it’s us! Open your eyes!” Hiccup tries to convince Astrid to listen, but she doesn’t. Whatever delirious vision she’s having, she’s too deep into it.

“NO! Get off! GET OFF!” She screams. “You can’t have my… Stormfly!”

“Stormfly!” She calls for her dragon. She must believe she’s in some sort of battle, she’s tried to go for her axe, which is why Hiccup is too desperate to keep her restrained. He can’t let her get it and lash out at one of her friends.

Unfortunately, restraining her is also what keeps her from listening to any of them.

“Please, Astrid,” Heather pleads with her friend.

“Hiccup, we have to do something quick! Astrid needs that antidote!” Fishlegs presses. They didn’t think dragonroot would have an effect on humans as well, but Astrid has proven otherwise. That arrow she took to her leg is the reason why she’s like this.

“I know that Fishlegs, but we can’t let her attack anyone either!” She doesn’t even need her axe to seriously injure one of them.

But if her delirium has her believe that she’s in the middle of a battle and pinned down by enemies as they assume… Hiccup can’t stand to see her like this.

“Snotlout, go get Stormfly,” he orders him and for once he rushes outside to get it done. Astrid might think none of them are around to save her, but she did call for her dragon and maybe that means she’s expecting her to come. Stormfly might be their way in.

Barely a minute later, the Nadder arrives. Apparently, Snotlout didn’t even need to go get her, she was already on her way.

“Stormfly! Here girl,” Hiccup directs her closer, though she’s perfectly capable of spotting her troubled Rider on her own. He and Heather let go of Astrid and she immediately lashes out, not even an inch off from hitting the lead Rider in the nose.

Astrid stumbles to her feet, her injured leg lagging behind. She has no strength, her legs shake beneath her.

“That’s what I thought, you…” She slurs, unable to finish that sentence. Her head rolls as dizziness takes its toll, she reaches for it and groans. She stumbles backwards.

Hiccup, Heather, everyone reaches to catch her, but it’s Stormfly who keeps her steady, holding her up with her horn.

“Stormfly, there you are girl,” the relief in Astrid’s voice is palpable. She strokes her scaly hide and then goes limp. This time, Hiccup does catch her and he picks her up in his arms. Having reunited with her dragon, she has allowed herself to pass out and so he takes her back to bed. Astrid will no longer fight them. Hopefully, even when she does wake up.

Stormfly squawks as she walks around the bed and settles at Astrid’s right, chirping and giving her nose to pat later.

Fishlegs gets to work on that leg and Hiccup helps wherever he can. They can finally take a proper look at that arrow wound on her thigh, it’s become terribly infected. Whether Astrid simply has the bad luck of getting an infection or has a bad reaction to the dragon root and why, they don’t know. So what they’ll do is take care of it now and discuss that later.

Removing the initial bandage that’s become crusty with blood and puss, a gnarly sight meets them and it’s no wonder that Astrid is as feverish and delirious as she is.

“Don’t worry,” Fishlegs states, although even he’s not sure whether he’s reassuring himself or his friends. “We’ll clean it, dress it again, and we’ll give her the antidote once she’s able to swallow. She’s going to be okay.”

There’s a heavy dread in the room, everyone is worried for Astrid’s health. As Fishlegs works, Hiccup strokes her forehead with his thumb while his hand rests on her crown, Heather is on her other side to hold her hand, and Stormfly thrills a soft song in her ears.

Snotlout approaches with a wet cloth to lay on her forehead, but they’ll have to see when her fever will break. Even if they have to drop her in a bath of cold water, they have to break it. If they can’t get her out of her delirium, she could end up hurt worse.

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Different kinds of strength Pt1

Similar to For The Sake Of A Smile by @snippychicke, Iruma has an adoptive human Aunt that followed him into the netherworld. Shes the librarian at Babyls and Jazz goes to her of all people for help addressing his familiar Spoo

Iruma is a kind hearted individual. One bad thing about this however, is his lack of associating weakness with softness. Not to say that Iruma - being a softie - is weak, but rather he would be openly vocal about others' softness (and thus weakness) than demons would normally be comfortable with.

It's like he knows a secret, but doesn’t understand why it's important to be discretionary about it. He could easily spill the secret accidentally, without intending to cause the harm that would inevitably follow...

This is what caused Jazz to further communicate with Iruma about the instance in which he found out about his familiar: Spoo.

Iruma was hiding in the room Jazz and Spoo were practicing in, so he could easily eat where the ‘Snack Police’ could not find and apprehend him. Iruma was kind; and Jazz doubted he would intentionally hurt another in such a way, but he had to be sure that his loose lips would always remember that Jazz knew his snacking secret whenever he thought of Spoo. Just to be sure.

"If you're really still worried about his appearance, Jazz, you might wanna talk with my Aunt, Flora."

This was not at all the reaction Jazz expected. Which - Iruma did cower in fear at first, when the mention of keeping Spoo’s appearance discretionary immediately changed Jazz’s demeanor - but now he had realized the purpose, and was unfazed by Jazz's threats.

"Seriously," He continued as Jazz went blank-faced. "She has a lot of experience with personal appearance struggles. I think it might help."

Despite his bafflement at the suggestion, this bit of information must not dissuade Jazz from his original mission.... ensuring Iruma’s ultimate silence about Spoo.

"I'll still tell Clara and the whole Snack Police if you tell." He said firmly, at which Iruma stiffened again - for Clara and Azz had just appeared behind Jazz. The two students met eyes once more.

"My lips are sealed!" Iruma said before scampering off towards his main 2 friends. Thank Devi he didn't have any snacks to hide at that moment, or he would've been a goner.

---

Flora had taken over Babyls’ Library not long after most of the misfit class had gone to Walter Park together in the summer. She was supposedly as secluded as Iruma had been from the rest of the Netherworld before entering Babyls (though how Sullivan managed to keep his mouth shut about his precious daughter and grandson for such a time, Jazz would never be certain enough to bet on). She was unranked, and seemed to have a wide array of general knowledge rather than one particular specialty.

She was physically and magically weak like Spoo, but there wasn't much else Jazz could see in comparison. The bit Iruma said about personal appearance experience got Jazz quite more curious about her, however. Was she insecure about her rankless status, was there some sort of trauma she suffered that affected her sense of self? It was too perplexing a concept for him to ignore.

He had to know what the fuck Iruma was talking about. Was he calling him insecure?

Flora definitely seemed to be as shy as Iruma was kind - on top of being equally as kind - but the more Jazz tried to think about it, the more his brain tried to shut the thoughts down; such levels of kindness were unnatural in the netherworld. Better to just straight up confront her.

But how?

---

Flora was known through out Babyls  for not only being the Librarian, but also being rankless, kind, shy… and also riding astride a fucking nightmare’s back to and fro various long distances.

Right on top of their wing base.

The subject in question then became how the fuck Flora had managed to have such steep control over a netherworld creature that it would allow her to sit there as it moved, while still being as weak as she was.

Everyone saw the way she treated the nightmares though, and the sight was less than steeped in control; which is what was even more perplexing.

"What does your familiar look like?" Jazz blurted, suddenly popping up from her desk one day. Startled, Flora dropped her book down and braced one hand on her chest and another against the desk for support as she tried to calm herself down from the fright. "You have one, right? One of the nightmares?" Jazz continued, unbothered.

Flora took another moment to steady herself, which was considered normal for her. She needed a moment longer to tell her mind and body that it was not, in fact, in danger. Probably something picked up from her theoretically traumatic past, everyone figured. She was weak and rankless, and thus used much more adrenaline running through her to survive whatever danger she encountered.

"Well," Flora started, settling into a normal more relaxed position to converse with the student. "Chestnut is my familiar, but why do you ask?" Discussing and showing off her familiar’s appearance - while self-satisfying - would draw too much attention to her. She was a human, after all; just like Iruma. Although the act of obtaining her own familiar had been precise and intentional, now that more knowledge was known about humans having familiars after Iruma undoubtedly re-summoned Kalego after supposedly forever breaking their familiar contract bond.

"....just curious." Jazz says, intending to be careful. Flora took more care in sealing her lips on sensitive topics that she didn’t understand the sensitivity about, but she still let a few things slip willy-nilly once and a while. The lack of context gave Flora a pause in her response.

"....are you doing some sort of research?" She finally asked.

Research? Plenty of students came into the library for their scholarly and personal research purposes. Yes, that is what this would be classified as for Jazz. Personal research.

"Yes. I'm curious about familiars' varying appearances, their functions and perceptions based on them. And how often familiars appearances change."

"Oh, my. Let's see..." This was quite a specific inquiry, one more suited for a teacher who knew more about familiars; like Robin, seeing as he was the instruction for familiar classes - even Kalego would be a better choice, as he oversaw each students familiar summoning every year. "Honestly, you might be better off asking Robin or Kalego. They have more experience with various familiars than I do."

Jazz grimaced at the suggestion. Robin was too..... all over the place. And he would gain hardly anything more than he was already getting from regular familiar lectures (although lecture is not the word one would use to describe Robin’s lessons). Kalego would certainly know about various familiar forms, but... the demon was too brash and strict a teacher as it was for Jazz. That one bonus lesson in Walter park had been hell enough - he wanted to avoid more if he could.

“I've heard enough about their private lessons from Iruma, Soi, and Lied for my own taste. Surely you know something about peculiar cases yourself?” Jazz pressed. He wanted Flora of all demons to be the one to open up about this. Not because of anything Iruma has implied or said, but because she was kind and patient and quiet - not noisy and boisterous like the rest of the staff he would otherwise have to turn to.

“Hmmm....” This was clearly a sensitive matter to Jazz, from what Flora could tell. He was unwilling to offer much information or seek a more reliable and trustworthy source. And while demons did act differently from humans, Flora was at least certain about this. “Come inside my office for a minute”

---

‘Office’ is the word Flora used. ‘Prep room’ is the word anyone else in the Netherworld would’ve used. Nevertheless, Flora had made it into quite the little personal reading nook. A spot for snuggled reading, a spot for note taking, and a spot for organization and planning.... Its personal touch was a bit odd compared to the other teachers' prep rooms - though Flora is a rather odd demon, Jazz supposed. 

Jazz took a seat on a couch before a smallish coffee table, while Flora took to a small single chair. As she settled in, she pulled her feet and legs up into the seat with her, curling her arms and body around to keep them in place as she sat.

“So what's this specifically you're looking for?” Flora started. Jazz was still a bit hesitant to be so outright with the information at hand, but he figured that alone in the prep room no one would overhear or see about his little Spoo’s condition. He let out an aggravated sigh.

“My familiar’s appearance.” He began. The crux of the issue was that despite Spoo's growing skills, uses, and talents, his appearance was still cause for concern in the young demon. Spoo had some scales at the base of his tail, and he managed to steal Irumas secret snacks that one time they were discovered, but Jazz had still ultimately decided to use the face mask thing that was intended for Soi during the music festival for the heartbreaker exam. Jazz loved Spoo, and accepted him. But it felt like with this insecurity, he hadn't truly accepted Spoo for everything that he is. And that did not sit well with him.

“... you want to change it's appearance?” Flora questioned after allowing Jazz a paused moment to think.

“Yes.” Surely that was safe enough to admit.

“Well,” She started. “From what I understand, a familiars appearance is based on the summoners personality. It's a reflection of who they are on the inside.”

“Yes” Jazz confirmed.

“So are you afraid or upset by what your familiar’s appearance has to say about your personality?” Flora asked.

“Well...” Jazz paused again. How could he say this correctly? “It's not that I don't care for my familiar; I've accepted him, and his appearance is not his own fault in the slightest. But what his appearance says about my personality doesn't match up with...” He drifted off, rotating his hands in a circle to try and grasp the end to his sentence. 

Flora almost felt as though she were a therapist of sorts at this moment. Jazz was clearly having trouble voicing the crux of the issue - something she could relate to - so she did her best to ease it out of him in a way he wouldn't freeze up or pause much over.

“What do you think about your own personality? Who do you think you are as a demon?” She prompted. Jazz had to think long and hard about that.

“Who am I....” He mumbled, looking at the floor as he thought. “My brother is just about the worst. And I'm convinced if I were in his shoes as an older brother I would be much better behaved.” Flora nodded at this, indicating she was listening and had heard the meaning behind his words. “But my family bloodline ability contradicts that idea. A thief can't be soft. Snakes have scales, not fur.”

“Are you a snake?” Flora - as a human - was quite partial to metaphors and similes, but she knew such things could be harder to grasp for demons - and hell, even some humans had a particularly hard time with the constant way she formed and wove them into her life.

“My fingers are snake-like when I steal, and my familiar's original appearance has two snake tails.” Jazz supplied, thinking he knew where she was going.

“Hmmm.... so you are expected to be tough like a snake... but deep inside you feel soft?” Jazz grimaced at the word. Soft often equated to weak in the Netherworld, and to be perceived as such made a dangerous target of demons. Jazz thought it was a miracle already that Flora had survived this long in the Netherworld - much less taken care of Iruma in it. “Why is it a bad thing?” She asked in response to Jazz’s own response to the word soft.

“Soft means weak,” He stated more firmly as he sat, hunched over with hands balled on top of his legs, pink tipped ears of embarrassment. He opened his mouth to speak again - something similar along the lines of what he had just said - but Flora interrupted him. 

“I hate that notion.” Voice and posture stern, her legs were now curled flat against the chair she sat upon instead of hugged around her arms. Jazz looked up at her in surprise, forgetting his own embarrassment. “It speaks nothing to the power softness holds.” He sat there with his mouth open for a hot second before Flora finally decided what to do next.

“Come see my Familiar,” She said.

---

Sullivan had a stable area made at Babyls ever since he first got the nightmares and carriage for Iruma; but the area has since been turned over to Flora as she tamed the horse-like creatures. 

“I assume you've got a familiar summoning seal on you?” Flora had asked on their walk over, prompting Jazz to quickly steal one off of a nearby demon they passed.

When they arrived, Jazz had never seen anything like it. The carriage itself was stored off to the side and well out of the way - or at least it would have been, had it been rode to school that day. The rest of the place was strewn with straw and hay, and built mostly out of wood. There was a small section for the saddles, bridles, blankets, grooming tools, etcetera that Flora had called ‘tack’ and then there were the stable sections for the individual nightmares.

“Let's see that seal now,” Flora said, holding out her hand for the sticker. Jazz gave it to her while looking around some more, still quite unused to the stables. Quickly putting the sticker on and raising her hand, Flora summoned her familiar. With a small flash, a white nightmare appeared beside the librarian. 

Jazz was startled by the scene, causing the creatures to flatten their ears back and snort in agitation before Flora calmed them down.

“Do your best to keep your emotions minimal and under control, they might get startled.” Flora stated, running her hands through the white nightmares mane of hair - silver sparkling hair, that was originally plain white like a cloud. The creature's coat was glossy white as it shimmered, and its horn seemed to glow with magic... Jazz had never seen anything like it.

“Whoah...” Was all he managed to get out while Flora continued to soothe the nightmare at her fingers.

“What do you notice?” Flora asked, prompting for an answer.

“Uh... The horn looks like it's brimming with magic and the hooves look like they could kill with one kick - but at a distance, this thing looks more like some sort of fluffy decoration?” Jazz frowned at the realization once the words came to him. How could something be so soft and so deadly? 

“That's right. Chestnut here is a very pretty nightmare who could kill you in one fell swoop - she is soft AND strong. At the same time, and neither takes away from the other.” Flora paused for a moment to allow Jazz to soak all the information up. “Now, let's see yours”

Jazz was startled just enough to manage to summon Spoo before he thought too clearly on the subject. With a poof, the fluffy little doggo was before their feet and the white nightmare was snuffing for context on what was happening. Flora sat on the ground and crossed her legs, opening up to the new creature with a smile.

“Well hi there little fella, what's your name?” As Spoo determined the librarian was not a threat, he pawed his way over a little to greet her. Flora offered her hand for sniffing and some head scratches. Jazz sank to the floor from his own embarrassment. After a while of getting acquainted with the new familiar, Flora finally spoke again. “So what's wrong with him?” She asked.

Probably the wrong wording, given Jazz’s response.

“That's the thing, nothing’s wrong with him!” He burst out, causing the nightmares in the stable to stir a little. Flora hushed them and got Chestnut to plop down on the floor with them, then waited for Jazz to elaborate. “He’s....He’s very loyal and hard working and we have a good bond, and he’s been becoming more physically useful with his physical form - he could hardly do anything at first - but his appearance is still..... Just some soft little guy.” Jazz paused to scritch Spoo himself, nearing the end of his explanation. “He’s a symbol of my soft weak spot”

“He’s a symbol of your love and your heart” Flora corrected softly. She was going to have NONE of that soft equaled weak/bad ideology. Jazz looked up at Flora, confused and awaiting an explanation of what she meant. “Do any of your fellow students feel like younger siblings to you?” Flora asked, remembering what he said earlier about his own older brother.

“Well..... at Walter Park, my group of guys asked me to lead and help them with such pleading little faces... it filled me with a sense of pride in my strength that they would come and look up to me like that - even though I was panicking - and during the heartbreaker exam when I first saw my kohai, I just felt... this deep sudden urge to prove that strength and pride all over again...”

“Hmmm,” Flora hummed in understanding. “That's a beautiful thing to see reflected in your familiar.”

“Yeah, but it also shows a weak spot. It shows that if people attack those I care about then they can get to me,” Jazz countered.

“It could also show how fiercely you’d protect them, if you wanted.” Flora said, making Jazz pause to think for a second. He looked back over at the white nightmare, laying belly flat on the stable floor with legs tucked in, all pure beauty and killing power rolled into one - and it dawned on him.

“Your familiar.... The beauty hides its strength, like a fly trap lures in prey only to chomp down on them when they get too close.” There were several such similar plants in the harvest festival that lured in prey with such deceiving tactics. “But, what are you trying to lure?” 

“Nothing, really. I’m just a big old softie willing to kill for those I care about. Not my fault if someone tries to take a bite out of something I'm protecting. The softness is for the ones I care about - and also for me, because it feels really nice - but I also have measures in place to protect what I find soft and beautiful, so that I can continue enjoying it.” Flora leaned back while clutching her toes, admiring the stable around them. Jazz looked too, trying to see it - and her - through new eyes.

Flora was rankless, kind, and shy - but she also had stomped around for days when Soi went missing after dropping out of school during the music festival. She defended her library with great strength, not afraid to kick anybody out who mistreated the space or materials. She defended everything she loved with great fierceness - including her differences. She loved deeply and strongly, and was a force to be reckoned with on the rare occasions she ever got mad.

“...why don't you have a rank?” Jazz asked upon reflection, thinking of everything Flora accumulated to. Soft, yes - but also fierce and strong. Why was she rankless?

“Well, that's because my forms of strength aren't measured by the ranking system, is all. My strength comes from love, and from the power of my mind - not my magic or my muscles. The ranking system doesn't really account for that, so it wouldn't reflect upon me properly.”

Stay tuned for part 2 in which Flora chases Jazz and Spoo around with a fucking bat like a madman!

[mimisempai]

Perfect for each other

Summary:

A tender moment of intimacy leads Dream and Hob to discuss Dream's feelings of admiration for Hob and Hob's acceptance of them.

On AO3

Rating G - 1075 words

Hob was lying on the couch, his head in Dream's lap, his eyes closed but not asleep.

Dream was playing with his hands in his hair and sliding his strands between his fingers

The stereo was playing soft music, but Hob wasn't really listening to it. He was much more aware of Dream's fingers in his hair and the feeling of contentment that washed over him. 

When they could share this kind of moment, it was the time of day he loved the most.  Like a fleeting instant out of time. A bubble where for a few moments there was only Dream and him.

Dream's hand moved from his hair to his cheek and brought him out of his reverie. He opened his eyes and, leaning his cheek in the warm palm of his lover, he saw that Dream had leaned forward and was looking at him with a tender gleam in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips.

Hob raised an eyebrow and asked curiously, "What?"

Dream's smile widened as he replied in a teasing tone, "Do I need a special reason to admire my lover?"

Unable to hide his blush, Hob replied in a slightly embarrassed voice, "Uh, no..." then he bit his lip before continuing, "although I don't see what there is to admire."

Dream leaned in a little more so he could meet his gaze and retorted, "Oh no? Really? Well, I see plenty to admire."

At Hob's doubtful pout, Dream continued, tracing the contours of Hob's face with his fingertips, "There is so much to admire and love in you, Hob."

Hob, increasingly embarrassed, turned his head to avoid Dream's intense gaze. Because as always he was unable to handle his lover's compliments.

But Dream didn't want that and when he grabbed Hob's shoulders, Hob was reminded once again how physically strong his lover was.

In a few skilful movements made by Dream, he found himself astride the lord of dreams, trapped by his arms around his waist and most of all unable to avoid his gaze.

Dream pressed a light kiss to his lips and asked softly, "Why are you unable to believe me when I tell you that there is so much to admire and love about you?"

Hob swallowed and replied softly, "Because I know what my weaknesses and flaws are. Even though I've lived several hundred years, I remember each of my mistakes acutely. Mistakes that you know perfectly well, so I don't understand how you can admire me while knowing them."

Dream shook his head and replied softly, "Of course I know them all. I also know you'll do more of them, just like I do. But that just makes you perfect-"

Hob chuckled, "Perfect?"

Dream pressed a finger to his lover's lips and retorted, "Let me finish, will you?"

Hob nodded.

"That makes you perfect for me. Someone who would be just perfect, could never accept me and my many flaws. But someone who is also flawed and conscious of it, is perfect to me. After all, doesn't your human concept of mathematics say that two negatives that add up, make a positive, Professor Gadling?"

Hob chuckled lightly, "I'm no math expert, I'm just a history teacher."

Dream rolled his eyes and, seeing his annoyance, Hob hastened to add, "I know what you mean but..."

Dream's expression softened, "But what?"

"Even though I accept your love, I find it hard to believe that you can admire me, after all those mistakes and bad choices."

Dream responded by asking him a question, "Hob, do you love me?"

Hob immediately replied, offended that Dream would even ask him that, "Of course I do!"

Dream continued, "Do you love only some parts of me? Or do you love all of me?"

Hob answered again immediately, "All of you, of course."

Dream pushed a strand of Hob's hair behind his ear and answered softly, "Just like I love you, all of you. That doesn't mean I love your mistakes or your bad choices. I abhor some of them, you know that. Just like you probably abhor some of my choices and decisions. But that doesn't stop you from loving me, does it?"

Hob shook his head vigorously making Dream smile indulgently as he continued, "It doesn't stop me from loving you either. It would probably be different, if you had persisted in your bad choices and mistakes, but you haven't." 

He kissed Hob's forehead lightly and continued, "A man in 1789 said to me, 'I may have learned a bit from my mistakes. But it doesn't seem to stop me from making them .' It was this man that I fell madly in love with. You Hob, you learn, you change, you fall, but you get up and try again and again. Hob, you do this much better than I do, while I've had much more time to learn. That's why I say you're perfect for me."

Hob swallowed and asked, "Do you really think so?"

Dream chuckled, "When have you seen me tell you something I didn't mean?"

Hob smiled back and sighed, "Okay..."

Dream uttered softly, "You're all I could ask for and the upside is that I have eternity to convince you of that."

Unable to resist, Hob blurted, "I love you." before burying his face in the hollow of his lover’s neck. Dream didn't answer anything and just tightened his embrace around his lover's shoulders. He knew that it would still take a lot of time for Hob to proceed what Dream had told him.

Suddenly Hob straightened up and grasping Dream's face in his hands he said softly, "You too."

Dream asked confusedly, "What about me?"

Hob smiled tenderly, "You too are perfect for me. Everything you said to me goes for you too."

Seeing Dream pout, Hob shook his head vigorously, "Ah no, don't ask me to believe you if you don't apply the same principles to yourself."

Dream chuckled, "Then it will take us all eternity to convince each other."

Hob brought his lips to Dream's mouth and whispered against it, "That's good, I don't have anything special planned for the next hundred years." 

Then he pressed his lips to his lover's.

Of course, it will take more than one kiss for each of them to one day accept the way the other saw him.

But it didn't matter how long they needed when they had eternity ahead of them.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Dreamling Masterlist here

[dudapregnancydrawings]

My OCs/Lovechildren of Record Of Ragnarok

So, it seems I have a new obsession: "Record of Ragnarok", or "Shuumatsu no Valkyrie". Going down the fanfictions in A03, Wattpad and Spirit, I now have a lot of ships! And, as usual to me, I ended up creating children for them -\_:v_/- and yeap, all of them born of mpreg! lol I still have to find the will to draw them, but for now I'll just write their profiles, since I've been writing a lot these last days:

Jun, Astrid and Gunnar:

17, 13 and 10 years old, respectively;

children of Lü Bu and Thor;

all of them were carried and born from Thor;

appearance: Jun is like a younger and without scars version of Lü Bu, with his long hair in a ponytail, and has Thor's yellow eyes with black sclera. Astrid has long red hair combed in two braids she keeps in front of her chest, and has yellow eyes with white sclera and a mark resembling a lightning on her face. Gunnar has short red hair and Lü Bu's eyes and pointing teeth.

Jun is the oldest, so he's responsible, serious and a great fighter. His weapon of choice is a spear;

Astrid is a viking teenager: annoyed all the time, poker face 24/7, will fight you if you look wrong at her, can break your arm in a single twist;

Gunnar is a little tasmanian devil! He can't control himself, wants to pick a fight with anybody, and likes to jump like a frog. (Why? Idk)

Thea and Nami:

14 and 9 years old, respectively;

daughters of Sasaki and Poseidon;

both carried and born from Poseidon;

appearance: Thea looks a lot like poseidon, but her hair is black, as well as her eyes. She wears a blue dress in a greek goddess style and a lot of golden jewelry. Nami is blonde and has blue eyes, and wears a blue japanese kimono.

Thea, the heir of the throne of the seas, is as snob, obnoxious, and arrogant as any princess.

Nami doesn't care about rules or anything at all, she just want to have friends. Sasaki gives her lessons with a wooden sword.

Alexander and Elizabeth:

11 and 8 years old, respectively;

children of Heracles and Jack;

both carried and born from Jack;

appearance: Alex is a mini version of Heracles, but with short spiked silver hair, and sky blue eyes. Beth has long and wavy orange hair and eyes with different colors, one red and one ice blue. They wear clothes like victorian english children.

"Alexander" means "guardian of people" or "defender of humanity", fitting to a son of Heracles. He's kind, helpful, innocent... In fact, so helpful and innocent that he forgets about himself and would be used by others if wasn't for his sister.

Elizabeth is a little british lady, with such good manners and has a special love for apple pie. She has Jack's red eye, capable to see people's emotions. She may look as innocent as her brother, but in fact, she's smarter and never let anybody uses him.

Mohan, Ravi, Neesha, Anik and Indira:

quintuplets, 9 years old;

children of Raiden and Shiva;

all carried and born from Shiva;

appearance: Mohan and Ravi have Raiden's skin color, black hair, Raiden's eyes and one pair of arms; Neesha has Shiva's purple skin, black hair, Raiden's eyes and one pair of arms; Anik has Shiva's purple skin, Raiden's hair color, Shiva's eyes (only two), and two pairs of arms; and Indira has Raiden's skin color, his hair, Shiva's eyes (all of them) and two pairs of arms.

Mohan and Ravi are the trickster twins, taking advantage of people to steal money from them and buy candy. Neesha is the shy and quiet girl, who loves art. Anik loves music and knows to play a lot of instruments. And Indira is the crazy one, the one who speaks loud and dare to fight anyone who irritates her or her siblings.

Mei-Hui:

11 years old

only daughter of Hades and Qin;

carried and born from Qin;

appearance: long and straight black hair combed in two buns and Hades' violet eyes.

cheerful, helpful without being naive, forgetful, gossip girl. Has Qin's ability to feel other's weaknesses. Loves fashion and everything that's luxurious.

Dantalion:

12 years old

only son of Nikola and Beelzebub;

carried and born from Beelzebub;

appearance: black wavy hair, blue eyes with dark circles under them, never smiles, all black clothes in the same style as Nikola's.

gloomy, depressive, genius of the group, loves more books and experiments than people and gods. Has a special and dark craving to make experiments on humans, but Nikola doesn't allow it.

I have other ships, but didn't make children for them: Adam and Eve (they already have the whole humanity as children, plus Caim and Abel), Buda and Loki (Loki already has his children, which Buda loves them as if they were his), and my crack pairing: Zeus and Odin (yeah, I know) (they're old and already have adult children).

[proelio-procusi]

mini   character   playlist   :   share   at   least   five   songs   that   remind   you   of   your   muse,   or   that   you   associate   with   your   muse's   character   arc.   including   lyrics   is   optional.

Astrid

Pit of Vipers by Simon Curtis

It's impossible to navigate around / It's inevitable that you'll fall in / It's improbable I'll ever come back down / I fell in and now I think I might drown

Become the Beast by Karline

To capture a predator / You can't remain the prey / You have to become / An equal / In every way

Empire by Beth Crowley

I'm gonna build me an empire / And it's lonely at the top / But madness and greatness / Can both share a face / And nobody will ever convince me to stop

Savages by Marina

Is it running in our blood? Is it running in our veins? / Is it running in our genes? Is it in our DNA? / Humans aren't gonna behave as we think we always should / Yeah, we can be bad as we can be good

Burned by Grace VanderWaal

Blow out the candles / Oh, how the tables they've turned / You don't play with fire / Unless you wanna get burned / Wanna get burned

Lucien

Psycho by AViVA

I'm hearing it all, I hear it in my head / Whispering, they're whispering again / Hearing it all, they see me as a threat / Pushing me, keep pushing to the edge

Devilish by The Phantom

The world made me coldblooded / No mercy for the weak / No mercy for the weak / Revenge, my favourite dish / Your sins falling from your lips / Lights out, time to make a wish / Oh oh oh, so devilish

Metaphors by The Crane Wives

I've gotten good at making up metaphors / I've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape / And all these words are sweet and meaningless / You can't trust a single thing I say

God by Jake Daniels

You can tell me what you want, now don’t be shy / I know you like to open up your darker side / Let me be the one to give you what you like / I wanna take a look inside your mind

Villain by Atara Ara

They called me a monster, shall I prove them right? / They wanted a villain, so I put one in their sights / I'll take from you what you take from me / You're a waste of air, as far as I can see / Said you wanted a villain / So I gave you a villain

tagged by : @seeliecourt tagging: @championsofthegate @shadovan @firepassed @tadbitfooled and whomever else wants to

[bellsyafterdark]

Can I request the aftermath of din fucking the rancor + pov switch so we can see what everyone is thinking? 🥺

Unrelated but THANK YOU for having your stuff both here and on ao3...ao3 is down but you're still here so I may yet survive

Pieces on AO3 are more polished and while you can find things here in their rougher pre-edited version, I'm glad they've still come in handy through the intermittent outages!

///

In the aftermath, the Gamorreans are quietly impressed. Jabba used to let his own rancor enjoy those who defied him however the creature liked, whether that meant tearing into an easy meal or, well...

They've never seen a being as small as the Lord's pet take a fully-grown rancor. Nor enjoy it (difficult to tell, all screams sound the same after a point). None had survived without eventually succumbing to significant injury.

The guards grunt at each other, gesturing to where the rancor is still bent on its haunches, Lady Shand and the shiny one lost beneath its shadow. All doubts are clarified. The shiny Mando pet is not human.

They doubt any of Lord Fett's company are. Not that it matters to them, sole survivors of a once hundred strong Gamorrean guard. But to pass under the guise of another, meeker species is an apex style of camouflage: Lord Fett, Lady Shand, and now the shiny one....

At their side, Krrsantan quells their curious exchange with a subsonic rumble in his chest.

He ignores their glance, knuckles sparking as his hands clench and unclench at his sides. It's not that Krrsantan is responsible for Din's welfare. He's not really sure what his role is in this castle-- fight at Boba's side when needed? Be a shield against his enemies?

He's certainly not the head of security, that's Fennec, for the little instructions she gives him and the other guards. She's been distracted ever since Krrsantan brought their new Mandalorian home. But ever since he helped sate Din's appetite in transit and dropped him in Boba's lap, Krrsantan has found himself watching whenever the silver Mandalorian strolled across his radar.

He remembers how feral Din could get. Krrsantan has heard whores described as starving in their desire, but those were all exaggerations until he met Din, trembling and pale, laser-focused on his needs, unlike those glassy-eyed, violent tweakers.

It's not that he feels responsible. But someone has to be.

The one watching Din definitely wasn't.

Fennec surfaces from her feeding stupor with a growl. Something tugs at the meal between her jaws and her hands fasten across steel and armour, clutching tight.

"... nn?"

A weak moan trembles from the one under her tongue and she blinks to clear her vision of the euphoric stars and smears. Dark shadows move above her.

"Fenn?" Boba's modulated voice finally reaches her, and she tilts her head, hearing over-sensitised as all her senses commonly grow in this state. Blood trickles from her chin and she pants hard, fingers moving instinctively to stem the flow at her meal's neck.

Sweetheart. Morsel. No, Din. This is Din.

She presses harder and feels a sting of guilt at the pained whine from their pet, his helmeted head lolling on the stone with exhaustion.

"I'm going to back up," Boba says. "Put the big one in his room. You ready?"

Din barely responds when Fennec nudges him with the nose of her helmet and laving her tongue flat over the fresh bite on his neck.

"Fennec."

She glares up at Boba astride the crown of his prized rancor, thick chains still coiled in his glove. He is a vision that would make her mouth water if the thirst hadn't been slaked. But the beast's eyes are starting to droop and she doesn't want to still be under it when it decides to nap. Fine.

With her chest to Din's back, she wraps an arm protectively round his front and her other reaches down between his legs to clutch at his inner thigh.

The sound Din makes when the rancor pulls out is guttural and wounded and Fennec's stomach drops at the way Din startles alert, scent surging with pain, hands flying up to cling to her.

She purrs and hushes him even when she just wants to drink in the veritable gush of seed that streams from his cunt, unstoppered, knees drawing up protectively as the rancor retreats, and Din is shivering into a ball, whining, and Fennec doesn't have enough arms to wrap him up in the way she wants, she can't do this alone.

"Boba!"

Nobody stares as Boba marches through the halls of his palace with Fennec and her rifle at his heels, they have more self-preservation than that. Curled in his arms, Din is rigid and silent with pain, Boba can only imagine how he clenches his teeth behind his helmet.

It makes his heart pang. He promised to keep him-- them safe. All of them, under his roof. He never thought Din would resort to this.

For the first time in a long time, he's glad he wears a cloak, less for the modesty and more for the comfort it seemed to provide Din once he was wrapped in it, slumping into Boba's chest as he was pulled in.

"The hell were you thinking?" he grumbles under his breath, quickening his pace. Two more flights and then Din will be resting in bacta.

Having mistaken the accusation for her, Fennec retorts, "He was hungry."

He glares over his shoulder at her. "The rancor? The fucking rancor, Fenn?"

A terse beat of silence. "It hasn't been enough for him."

We haven't been enough.

Again, that ugly twist in Boba's chest that makes his stomach swoop. His mouth hardens in a scowl. It had just been a few days, Boba had needed to attend to political negotiations, recon with the water traders, Fennec and Din had their own missions, it was almost a return to how things were before.

This was not the homecoming he'd expected.

"This can't happen again." The rancor was precious to Boba, but it could have killed Din, and then... and then....

Fennec scoffs under her breath. "He doesn't take orders from us."

Boba stops and rounds on his second, watching her body language freeze, primed for whatever reprimand comes next. He watches her for a long moment, sees the moment she softens from living stone, wariness leaking from her edges.

"Maybe he should," Boba says.

.

.

.

/ping @battlemastercoffeeco @shalltheseboneslive

[kingofthewilderwest]

I like the new kids! Tom seems a mixture of Hiccup and Astrid, Jun isn’t a copy-paste Astrid and provides knowledge and myths beyond Viking history, Alex is a ray of sunshine who gives me aro/ace vibes, D’Angelo is unfortunately the weakest development wise in my opinion. I thought Eugene was obnoxious, but now he’s grown on me as that annoying, idiotic, comic relief brother carácter. I hate Buzzsaw. His motivations (?) are stupid. I like the parent cast, but I’m not a big fan of the dragon designs.

I also feel like some of the dialogue between the cast is forced and unnecessary, but I don’t mind the plot as much as I thought I would. Oh, also I’m starting to wonder if the realms are entrances to different worlds and not just supposed to be caves deep inside earth because they all have their own atmospheres and ecosystems. Plus doesn’t realms mean worlds? As in dragons are from a different world than humans originally, but the entrances are crossovers?

I enjoyed reading all this and I'm really happy to discuss things like this with other dragon nerds. I'm going to respond to topics with bullet points. Each one of these bullet points could be its own separate conversation. XD If anyone wants to keep babbling!

TNR Character Cast: Kids

The kids are good! I have appreciation for all, especially when considering their personality set-ups beyond the writer's execution. Each kid is built off good concepts.

Plus, the interests and beliefs each character has would allow for fascinating duo and team dynamics (did TNR do a better job handling it). For instance - Tom's impulsiveness contrasted with D'Angelo's rigidity and respect for regulations means the two have opposing values sets, the perfect set-up for interesting interactions.

I find Tom the weakest character concept because they bank too hard on the "Hiccup is Tom's ancestor" concept. Having your protagonist be a character who's conceptually copied off of your last protagonist, and where his main character conflict is a quest to find his ancestry (an external conflict as versus something that promotes internal character growth) is weak.

I love Jun's concept. She has tons of unrealized potential. *SHE* is set up with good character conflict. She has a mother who wants her to live in the practical world and a brother who doesn't share her interests, whereas Jun's greatest dreams and desires lie in mythology and mysticism. The fact that running into the dragons allows her to pursue her desires (against the desires of her mother, who's the head of the research facility) is way cool. And Jun being a voice for dragons in Chinese culture and the broader world of mythology makes great expansion to HTTYD-dom.

D'Angelo is a cinnamon roll, too good, too pure, to darling. The idea of a lawful good character and a character who has veterinarian knowledge is fantastic. I agree with you they haven't developed him as much as they should, especially the last few seasons. This holds true for all TNR characters, but especially D'Angelo.

Alex is a ray of sunshine in our hearts, but let's be clear: her character is one with fantastic darkness, too. That element helps make her refreshing. Like her saying, "Big business would exploit them [dragons], reducing them to a tiny column of profit margins on an ENDLESS SPREADSHEET OF DOOOOOOM."

I love Eugene because he's obnoxious! Give me all your obnoxious children! Give me your team tensions! His portrayal's a bit lame (and they partially intend that), but I can get down with the concept of a reincarnated wet rat pathetic Elvis Presley. I don't like how hard they've had him want to be leader (or the idea of "we need a leader" in this group at all). Also, I never am a fan of making a character be only comic relief. I want them to give Eugene serious and heartfelt moments, too.

The adult cast: Buzzsaw is so annoying he makes me wish Mildew were back. I do not like what they're doing with his character arc. Let's also bring up the angering stupidity of Evil Science Lady. In what world do scientists act like catty ten-year-olds? Please drop her into the abyss and forget she appeared on the show. Lots of the adult cast I have less attachment to, but their concepts are fine, and I like that we're following both a kid group and an adult group.

The dialogue is extremely poor in TNR. Agree with ya. I'm also in the same boat with you about plot: it's not something I care for, but I'm not offended by it as some people are (some things in S4 went over my very lenient allowances, though). I'm fine to chill and let things be as they are. Just sit back and get more Dragons content.

As far as entrances to other worlds: yes, that could be one explanation, especially banking on the underlying Norse concept of nine realms... but one of the things that's a hallmark of HTTYD has been its underlying realism. It's a world where dragons fill ecological roles and you can observe their evolutionary adaptations to survive in the world. HTTYD hasn't been a story of magical portals or other fantasy-driven elements. Ergo, having realms be literal would be stepping outside the worldbuilding boundaries we've had since the first movie, in my opinion. It'd be a way cool concept in a fanfic, but not something that I'd want to see in my official lore. Especially given the heavy focus on environmental adaptations to our world.

[heroineimages]

Guns of the Underdark

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34545828/

Hey! So here are my Napoleonic-era Drow designs that I mentioned in this earlier post! I went with the crimson-velvet color for most of the uniforms, but given that different units of the era might have different uniform colors, I kept the glossy-black and midnight-blue uniforms for some of the units. Thanks to @jarl-deathwolf​, @thenihtgenga​, and @timeforanedventure for the feedback!

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34399822/

Ready to take the fight to the human invaders, a Drow lieutenant hands a dispatch to her plate-clad general.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34425178/

Drow and Drider scouts keep an eye on Commonwealth troop movements.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34497846/

Drow and Goblin sappers in the XXIII Matron’s Engineering Corps survey the orcish entrenchments for possible weak points.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34401328/

A Drow and Duergar in the XIV Matron’s Regular Infantry rush to flank the rampaging Umber Hulks.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34400528/

Astride her hell-hound, a rider from the III Matron’s Dragoons guards a POW-transfer with the Goblinoid Alliance.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34549889/

Half-Drow auxiliaries move to reinforce a battalion of the Matron’s Rifles.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34451694/

Skirmishers from the IX Matron’s Rifle Corps harass fusiliers from the Elf/Human Commonwealth.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34543467/

Under heavy musket-fire, a volunteer physician from the XI Matron’s Medical Corps helps pull a half-Drow skirmisher from the battlefield.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34401833/

Grenades and muskets ready, Drow and Deep-Gnome squaddies from the XXXIV Matron’s Grenadiers charge in to storm Hobgoblin entrenchments.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34400928/

Muskets from the V Matron’s Guard take aim at the approaching high-elf infantry.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D34546594/

After surveying the necromancer’s shambling, putrid horde, a half-Drow lieutenant ceremonially hands an eight-pounder to her sergeant and tells her to “Blow the bony bastards to hell.”

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Winds of War: Teaser

With two weeks to go until release day, I wanted to share a little teaser from Winds of War😎

[Redacted]’s eyes burst open. Or so he’d thought. From her eyes, a brilliant light flared. Bright and dazzling, that light consumed the crystal ball, sparking. Panic trilled in his heart. Unable to explain what was happening, [Redacted 2] could only watch as the light faded. And as it did, the unveiled scene made his heart stutter. Goosebumps trailed down [Redacted 2]’s arms and legs. His knees went weak, watching [Redacted] take another breath, a calmer breath, a steady breath. As though the breath was knocked from his own lungs, [Redacted 2] watched as power flared around [Redacted]...

....Now feels like a good time to mention that Winds of War is a lot darker and more intense than Fire & Flight or Embers of Eternity....

(Full details below the cut!)

WoW Book Blurb:

To free the spirits of the Shadow Forest, the evil sorceress must fall.

The past of 647 years ago collides with the present as the fate of Tenebris and all of magic stands on the precipice of great devastation. As Astrid’s heir, Nyla must defeat Dinora, and the humans and pumpkies must forge a path for her to reach the evil sorceress. But is Nyla willing to risk the life she's only just begun to guarantee the safety of those she cares about and strangers alike?

While the coalition of soldiers, Casters, and Royal Guards scramble to mount a defense against Dinora's army, Shamira finds herself the leader of the three pumpkie clans in a clash against formidable beasts of stone. Can she put aside her own heart and convictions to become a leader?

Closer to home, Xander struggles to balance the desperation of his heart and the duties thrust upon him in the midst of the chaos. But when a crucial decision is made on the battlefield, he, Nyla, and Shamira are forced to confront their deepest truths. Will they conquer thechallenges they face in the fight for Tenebris's future, or will survival cost too much for them to bear?

The thrilling conclusion to Brianna R. Shaffery's epic young adult fantasy trilogy the Heirs of Tenebris, Winds of War delivers the truth behind the legends and puts the past to rest at last.

Content Warnings for WoW:

Depictions of violence/war/battle

Attempted murder

Murder

Death (on-page)

Grief (more so than F&F and EoE)

Self-doubt

Anxiety, references to panic attacks

Emotional trauma (and unrealistic coping)

***

Fire & Flight and Embers of Eternity

Embark on the journey in Fire & Flight at:

bit.ly/heirs01 (Amazon) books2read.com/fire-flight (All retailers) brswrites.com/product/fire-flight (Directly from me + signed copies)

Continue the journey in Embers of Eternity at:

bit.ly/heirs02 (Amazon) books2read.com/eoe (All retailers) brswrites.com/product/eoe (Directly from me + signed copies)