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#viking!gaz
dante-mightdie · 14 days
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viking harem but it’s this pretty little princess with her FourBigGuys™️ soap who stole her from her home, price who insists they share (but is the worst at it) and ghost who’s her loyal Dog he literally follows her everywhere especially when she goes to see gaz who always has flowers for her (and then soap shows up out of nowhere to insist no flower is prettier than his their lady
please god this is all I want PLEASE
c/w: poly!141 x fem!reader, smut, cockwarming, public sex, marking
you would be treated like an absolute goddess and the best part about these 4 brutes is they’re customisable! you have one for every occasion!
simon is there for when you need a big scary man to keep you safe from any perverts who may watch you whilst you bathe in the lake :( this menacing warrior standing so he blocks anyone’s view of his pretty lovie in such a vulnerable state
just make sure you repay the favour by letting him put you on your knees and fucking you behind a tree, his cloak thrown on the ground so your skin doesn’t get all muddied and scratched by the elements :(
gaz is your loverboy. he’s there when you need someone to play with your hair and read you poetry. takes you for strolls in the local markets and prepares picnics in the forest
big fan of making love under the moonlight, his hips slowly grinding in to yours as he intertwines your fingers with his. soft gasps escaping your lips every time he hits that one spot inside you and makes you clamp around his cock
johnny is your wildcard. you never quite know what you’re gonna get with him. if you come to him, bored out of your mind, you could either end up absolutely hammered at a local tavern or going for a horse ride through a shallow stream
he’s a very tender lover. he can be very rowdy, grabby even. leaving dark bruises on your hips and waist as he manhandles you into the position he wants but once he’s got all that energy out of his system, he’ll trail soft kisses over each mark. resting his head on your tummy as you gently untangle his braid and play with his hair
and price. john’s lap holds a very special place in your heart as a safe space. a quiet sanctuary where you can unwind. he knows what you need when you pad over to him and climb onto his lap. a pleased grunt leaving his throat as you settle into a comfortable position
will spend hours with you, rubbing his warm hand up and down your back in front of the fireplace until you decide that’s not enough. your hand would trail down his hairy chest, slipping under his trousers to pull out his cock and slip him inside you
everyone knows not to disturb you both during this time, even the boys wait until your both settled before worming their way into the room for some together before bed <3
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ghouljams · 5 months
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Viking!Soap has consumed my entire being! Just imagining how unhinged he'd get if highland!reader got hurt or taken!!
Or or or! Him seeing her holding/caring for babies! They way he'd get sooo feral... 🥴
(Your writing > Me 🤰)
While the vikings aren't back home quite yet in the Soap story line, I did have an idea in my head and this is honestly the best ask to write it out in. Here's some of highland!reader being a healer and Soap being just... so dead over it
uuuuuh tw for descriptions of birth. I'm giving Gaz a baby.
Now this is a good use of your skills. You forget sometimes, that the vikings come from somewhere, that there must be people waiting on them, that they must have a home. This? You could never deny that Gaz is human after this. Not with the way he holds his wife's hand and frets over her as she grits her teeth and pushes. You know this, you've been midwife to enough of the people in your village to feel her dilation with your fingers, to cup the baby's head and ease its shoulders. You try to look reassuring as the mother sobs above you. That's what Gaz is for you suppose, he murmurs quiet affections to her, trying to keep her calm through the worst of it.
When the baby finally slips free and falls into your hands you can feel the relief that sobs through its mother. You're quick to dip your scissors in the boiled water nearby and snip the cord, tying it off with deft precision. You frown at the quiet infant, rub your fingers against its chest as Gaz comforts his wife. It scrunches its little face, opens its mouth on a silent cry and you turn it over to hit its little back hard. Then again, until it coughs and its cry finally pierces the air.
You sigh, and pass the baby off to be cleaned up by one of the mother's friends. "It's a boy," You tell the happy couple, taking their weary smiles as payment for a job well done. The only job you've ever done well.
The fire has burned low and the rest of the village has gone home to wait, but the 141 is vigilant. The crazy shepherd pops her head out of Gaz's house with good news after hours waiting. Soap lets out a breath and leans back to look at the rising sun. A new day for a new life.
He doesn't expect to see you holding the new wee one when they're actually allowed in. Sat next to the bed, fingers checking over the infant as your wrap and re-wrap its swaddle. His swaddle. Gaz said the baby was a boy.
You look tired, but you smile fondly down at the sleeping baby none the less. Again he finds himself staring at the rising sun, the warmth of you permeating every shallow corner of the room. The baby shift in its blankets and you shush it before it can start crying. Your fingers are so gentle as the skate over its little cheeks and nose. Every angle of you seems to gentle the infant, each soft touch to calm it. Soap's never seen anyone like you, never thought someone like you would step down from the realm of the gods to grace the earth.
Something warm melts over Soap's heart, the tender moment broken when you hand the baby back to his mother. Gaz and his wife laugh as Ghost and Price crowd close to give the congratulations, but Soap can't take his eyes off of you. He wants to see it again, wants to see you cradling an infant, looking content and proud.
Soap goes to stand next to you, brushes his fingers against your shoulder to try and catch some of the warmth breaking off of you. You stiffen and glare up at him. He takes his hand away, feels his fingers tighten, his smile hollow when he pastes it on. How differently would you look at him if it was his baby you cradled close to your chest? Would your gaze still cut into him like the bitter winds that carry snow down from the mountains? Would you soften for him, let him see the warmth in your eyes that now seems so far away? Would you look at him like you look at the baby?
As something human?
"Thank you," Gaz's wife give you a genuine smile, her eyes tired but shining with joy, "I know this isn't what you-"
"No," You stop her, the nordic tongue sounds so foreign to Soap's ears when it comes from your mouth, "I'm happy to help." Your accent is bad, it makes Soap smile a little fuller as he tries not to laugh. You seem to warm again watching the happy family. It's just him then.
Soap can see it when you give Gaz a weary smile, he's human in your eyes. He wonders what it would take to be granted the same honor. If you'd ever give him that, just that, he could live a lifetime on it.
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miguel-owhora · 2 months
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back on my viking au bullshit, but im changing it so gaz is your first - and willing - wife :3 his story is that he's the son of this nobleman in this village that you raided. at first you try to get his sister, but his father - and fuck that guy btw - trades gaz for her, and you find gaz way more prettier and happily accept.
at first gaz thinks you're cruel and a brute, that you'll hurt him and shit, and, well, he's not entirely wrong. you didn't become leader by being soft and kind, and though you can be rough amd temperamental at times, you make it a point to try and listen to gaz and respect his boundaries half of the time. that, along with delivering pretty objects to him from your latest raids, earn his affection and he becomes used to being your pretty wife, and eventually becomes numb to all the violence you bring if it means to keep your people strong and wife safe.
your latest gift surprises gaz. three men, all equally pretty and part of the british army, bounded and brought to him as gifts. gaz isn't you, he doesn't like how many people at your hands, but he usually ignores it because he's not there to witness it. but this time, these men's lives depend on him, and despite him not wanting any pets (as you call them) he accepts just to spare them of their deaths. that, and, well, it gets lonely at times when you're off on a mission overseas. maybe they can keep him company...
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If anyone has a fic where Viking!Ghost and Viking!Soap steal reader away in a raid or even Viking!141 taking reader in a raid, please send it my way 🙏🏼
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blue2black · 4 months
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COD incorrect quotes, but their from TikToks I saw and are now buried somewhere deep in my likes:
PART 1
—————————
*in an Uber*
Soap: And I find out that my parents are like, related.
Gaz: Like, their siblings?
Soap: Yeah like, blood siblings.
Gaz: Is that why you walk weird?
—————————
Soap, walking up to Ghost with a camera: Cheese!
Ghost: What is this? 🤨
Soap: I really think I can’t treat you anymore.
Soap: The fact is…
Soap: I’m in love with you. 😍
Ghost: The fu-?? 😨
—————————
Graves: Come on sweetheart, give us a smile.
Graves: Geez Louise, must be on your period. HA HA HA!
Valeria: …
Valeria: Let me drive a seven ton semi-truck over your torso and I’ll be smiling throughout my entire prison sentence.
—————————
Gaz: Nik is so old fashioned.
Laswell: Oh, really?
Gaz: Nik is so old fashioned that he doesn’t even watch TV.
Gaz: Like, when he wants to kick back and unwind he just goes on long fishing trips with Price.
Gaz: And Nik doesn’t listen to any new music, he just listens to a bunch of metal mixtapes that Price sends him.
Laswell: Wait, John sends Nik metal mixtapes?
Gaz: Nik is so old fashioned that he really struggles showing affection.
Gaz: Like, he rarely hugs me or anyone of that matter.
Gaz: One time I thought I saw him and you holding hands underneath a table from afar, but then I got closer and I saw it was just him and Price.
Laswell: Nik and John were holding hands underneath a table? (.-_.^)
Gaz: Well, yeah, but it really more like a good old fashioned handshake. You know? Like, the prolonged kind where two old school guys don’t let go of each other’s hands while sitting side by side listening to a briefing.
Laswell: Kyle…are Nik and John dating?
Gaz: What? No, Nik isn’t dating Price!
Gaz: Most of the time when Nik and Price hang out, they just get in fist fights with each other.
Laswell: They get in fist fights??
Gaz: Yeah, I can not tell you the number of times I’ve overheard Nik and Price go into an office, lock the door and just fist fight each other.
Gaz: I mean, the halls positively echo with the sound of flesh smacking up against flesh, furniture bumping against the walls…
Gaz: And not for nothing, but I think old fashioned Nik is winning pretty much every one of fights based on how loud I hear Price moaning-
Laswell, getting up: OKAY-
(Gaz knew what was going on, he was just fucking with her like the lil shit he is.)
—————————
Price: I just don’t wanna see you get hurt, okay?
Price: Those people up there can kill you!
Price: I know you think you’re tough, Farah, but you are fucking 5 feet tall!
Farah: I AM 5 FOOT 5! 😡
—————————
Laswell, getting ready to order food: Alright, what do you want?
Soap: Hamburger.
Laswell, parroting: Hamburger.
Soap: Chips.
Laswell: Chips.
Soap: Fart.
Laswell: Fart.
Laswell: 👏🏻 SOAP. 🤬
Soap: HEHEHEHEHE *evil Scottish giggle*
—————————
Valeria, dressed up: Okay, how do I look?
Diego: Like a woman about to go forth in sin.
Valeria: Oh, good. Exactly the look I was hoping for. 😉
—————————
—TEXT—
Scottish Bastard: hey
Scottish Bastard: ghost
Scottish Bastard: HELLOOO
Scottish Bastard: simon?!?!
Scottish Bastard: are you there??
Scottish Bastard: ………
Scottish Bastard: just imagine
Scottish Bastard: you and me
Scottish Bastard: in a room
Scottish Bastard: with nothing on
Scottish Bastard: OILED UP
Scottish Bastard: and ready to mingle
You: What the fuck are you on about?
Scottish Bastard: now that i have your attention
Scottish Bastard: i have an idea >:]
—————————
Soap and Price, waiting for exfil: ….
Soap: …
Soap: Last night I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup, and you were mustard.
Soap: Which is weird, because usually you’re mayonnaise in my dreams.
Price: 🤨???
Soap: Why do you suppose that is?
—————————
Ghost: When I die…
Ghost: ✨Viking funeral✨
Ghost, handing Gaz a gun: You shoot the shot.
Gaz, cocking the gun: Okay.
Ghost: If you miss, you kill yourself.
Gaz: Wait, what- 😨
—————————
*in an Uber pt 2*
Soap: Well, I’m shocked—of course.
Gaz: This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Soap: I mean, that’s dramatic.
Gaz: No, it’s not dramatic! Your parents are-
Soap: That’s dramatic!
Soap: Listen…I was shocked at first.
Gaz: At first??
Gaz: You’re not shocked still??? (ಠ_ಠ)
—————————
(Nik being the cool dad to everybody in 141)
Nik, answering his ringing phone: Hello?
Norris: Hello, sir, I'm the Colonel working for Captain John Price. I have Sergeant MacTavish in my office.
Nik: Okay, what did he do? 🙄
*Norris looks at Soap*
Soap: 😢
Norris: *sighs* He punched another solider in the genitals.
Norris: Three times.
Nik: OH MY GOD, DID YOU JUST SAY GENITALS? HAHAHA-
Norris, listening to Nik laughing his ass off through the phone: THAT IS THE FUNNIEST THING I'VE HEARD ALL DAY-
Norris: *looks at Soap*
Soap: *smiling proudly*
Nik: OH MY GOD, he is so funny! 😆
—————————
Ghost: Don't touch me, Soap!
Laswell: Can you guys like, stop having relationship issues while I'm trying to hack into their security?
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ceilidho · 5 months
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Night at the Museum but with reader as the security guard with the 141 causing chaos.
price is in the medieval exhibit (he's an old king), ghost and soap are in the viking exhibit, and gaz is in the roman empire exhibit
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cod-dump · 1 year
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Ghost was away on a mission for several months. He comes back and everyone is thrown off by the beard he had. He had the top part of his mask on because it was suffocating putting the full thing on with the beard. Price was joking that he really was his son while Soap was doing everything in his power not to jump on Ghost right then and there.
“We could braid your beard like a Norseman.”
“Norseman?”
“You know, like a Viking.”
Soap wanted to strangle Gaz for saying that. Now all he wanted to do was have Viking Ghost all night long.
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Text
Headcanons
𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐
➬ what-the-cod-men-drive
Ghost ➬ he-doesnt-understand-tiktok-humor
König ➬ when-your-daughters-classmates-mistake-you-as-her
Price ➬ when-you-meet-his-kids
Gaz ➬ your-workout-partner
Soap ➬ when-he-doesnt-know-about-you-ick
Ghost ➬ the-dog-protects-you
➬ name-a-woman
➬ do-i-think-the-cod-men-are-good-father
➬ nicknames-that-i-think-will-make-them-fold
➬ when-your-child-comes-out-to-him
Ghost ➬ ex-husband-simon
Price ➬ retired-price
➬ their-career-change-after-the-military
König ➬ viking-konig
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callofdudes · 3 months
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Call of Duty's How to Train Your Dragon pt1.
A/n: Is this finally being created after @itsscromp finally got my brain worms wiggling again? Yes. Is this also a get better fic? Yes. Is it an entire script for a move? Also yes.
Yes, it's also just shy of 20K words so... This half of the post is only about 12K. If you like httyd/cod crossovers you've come to the right place. But if you want to give it a chance and have a shit ton of free time. I'd also be honored.
Hiccup: Y/n. Astrid: Ghost. Fishlegs: Gaz. Ruff/Tuff: Soap. Snotlout: Graves.
I will reblog with the second half of the fic. Cred for the divider used goes to @straywords
This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.
It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.
My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.
The only problems are the pests. Even if they carry away all our food… You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…
Y/n opens the door of the large house structure, watching Vikings go running by, a monstrous nightmare stalking across the ground, talons digging into the stone. It turned it's gaze on the door, letting out a stream of fire from its gut. 
Y/n quickly slams the door shut as fire flicked up between the cracks and fades into dark smoke.
-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. 
Y/n rushed outside, smoke billowing into the clouds from the fire torching into the wooden buildings.
My name's Y/n. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.
Y/n falls back against the ground with an earth quaking tremor as another dragon flies into the area. Several Vikings greeting them. You. This is you. Flabby skin tight arms wrapped around thin layers of barely noticeable muscle.
Clothes seeming too big and too small, hands as soft as a newborn despite the experience in the forge. The only place you ever seem to be helpful no doubt. 
What a life a Viking like you lives. You're bloody useless! Even a newborn baby could wield an axe better than you could.
You rush up one of the paths along the hills of Berk, multiple Vikings looking at your sorry figure and asking why you were out during a dragon attack. You only ever caused trouble. When you weren't being useless you were being an expensive clumsy step.
“What are you doing here!?” One Viking says before you rush past.
“What are you doin’ out??” Another.
“Get back inside!!”
You're grabbed up swiftly by the collar of your shirt, your stubby feet dangling above the ground. A dragon's fiery breath drawing a line in the road, barely were you saved from its wrath.
“Y/n?! What are they doing out again-?!” He looked at you, baffled. “What are you doing out?! Get inside!”
That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. 
You watch as the large burly man grabs a cart along the road, swinging it and throwing it violently at a deadly Nadder in the sky. The dragon struggled and went down as it burst into splinters.
 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.
While the others rush to the scene to take the dragons on, you cower and rush into the smithing shop nestled near the middle of the town road. The only place not burnt down by now.
Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.
“Oh, nice of you to join the party, I thought you'd been carried off!”
You turned briefly to another large man, his appendages having some work done, what with missing both an arm and a leg. Always wondered what kept him alive… it clearly wasn't his limbs.
“What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all…” Your lack of any muscle is incredibly. Being born into the generation you were, how you managed to stay the same length and width of a stick was quite the sight. “...this.”
You moved a rather large weapon and opened the smithing window, a Viking immediately grabbing a weapon from the desk before you could take them back to the smelter.
He hums. “Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” 
You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.
The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.
You look out the smithing window as Stoick tackles another dragon. A dragon landing on another roof and blowing fire into the scorching wood. It crumbling beneath its talons.
See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.
“FIRE!!” A Viking shouted, followed by four teen rushing out with buckets of water.
Oh, and that's Gaz, Graves, Soap, and... Ghost. Oh, their job is so much cooler.
You watch the group walk from a fiery explosion as Vikings pass by, led by the snappiest rackater of them all. 
Ghost may have been a hard head who bullied your entire existence in a subtle way that made you feel like you were the problem, but that didn't matter. 
Graves was a real hard ass. Always following said lead teen around like he was gonna get a chance for even a morcel. Considering no respecting person in the village would take that…
There was Soap. They say he had a twin, but, had. Considering no one knows what happened or where said twin ended up. Easiest to say Odin didn't want them to live the hardships.
Or they got eaten by a dragon. 
Gaz, well, no one really knew what his problem was. He was a tad odd, but damn smart, and somehow more popular than you, skellington.
You lean out the smithing window, a hooked hand pulling you back in. “Oh come on! Please, let me out! I need to make my mark!”
“Oh you've made marks all right, in all the wrong places!”
“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get noticed!”
“You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!” Gobber lifts a bola to express his exasperation, only for it to be pulled from his hook and thrown at a dragon, taking it down.
“Okay, fine, but this will throw it for me!” You smiled excitedly rushing back into the shop, showing off your cool canon mechanism.
“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!” Gobber sighed, exasperated. Watching you fiddle with your contraption.
“Mild calibration issue-” You fiddled with some levers and the string on the draw.
“Don't you- no- Y/n. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.” He gestured vaguely to you, looking you up and down.
“But you just pointed to all of me?”
“Yes, exactly! Stop being you.” Gobber smiled, thinking you were getting it. Poking you in the chest.
“Oooh…”
“Ooooh, yes.”
“You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Viking-ness... contained? THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.” You pointed your finger up, brow turning down angrily.
Gobber looked bored at you. “I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now.” He dumped the sword into your frail hands, leaving you to your devices.
One day, I'll get out there. Because, killing a dragon, is everything around here.
You can look out the smithing window while you put the sword on the grindstone, sparks flying from the blade as you contemplate your options of execution.
A Nadder head is sure to get you at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get you the spot light. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.
And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.
You watched from the window as one crawled up the wall of the tower and onto a catapult, lighting itself up and scaring off the Viking manning the device.
Stoick slamming his hammer into its face to ward it off from the top of the tower.
But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-
There's a high pitched whistle across the sky. Vikings retreating desperately as they call out.
“NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!” The Vikings rush to get down. From nowhere a catapult is torn apart with a plasma blast.
This thing never steals food, never shows itself, and... never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why you're going to be the first.
“Man the fort, Y/n. They need me out there!” He attaches an ax piece to his hand, rushing to the door.
“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” Gobber runs off, leaving you in the shop. You tore off your apron and ran back to your catapult set up. Steering it out the doors and running up the hill along the catapults. 
Vikings yelling at you to get back and go inside. You can't be trusted outside when the island is in chaos. They can't trust you not to make chaos.
“Y/n!” One yelled.
“I know! I'll be right back!” You led your catapult on wheels up the old path, Stoick pinning down a group of Nadders. 
The others fought while you reached the edge of the cliff. Looking out at the darkness, a surprisingly peaceful corner of the island away from the chaos feet away.
You opened the catapult and set it up, the small aiming needle and the leader strap that held in the bola aiming around. You looked at the night sky, out at all the stars.
“Come on… Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.”
You watched the sky. Hearing the low cry of the dragon. Seeing the dark figure blacking out the stars, the only possible way you could see the creature that blended so easily into the night.
Attempting to track the shadow with the scope of your catapult.
You heard the dragon make its move, dive bombing from the sky and shooting a plasma blast into a nearby fire, knocking the tower down. As it cleared the explosion you clenched your eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
The catapult blasted you back on your butt, hearing the cry as the creature went down. 
You hit it. For once in your miniscule life you hit it!! A dragon!! A night fury!!
“I hit it!! Yes! Did anybody see that??” You turned around, a monstrous nightmare creeping up on you, its narrowed face making it look like a devilish thing.
“Except… for you.” 
It growled at you and you screamed, attracting the attention of Stoick. He sighed in exasperation, pulling away from the tied down Nadder heads. “DO NOT let them escape!” He commanded some others as he rushed to your aid.
You ran and stumbled from the dragon that stalked after you, firing at you. Hiding behind a pillar as your heart pounded in your chest.
You just killed a dragon and now you're dead. You're a goner. Oh you should have stayed inside.
It blasted a fiery blaze against the pillar, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut. Slowly forcing one open and inching around the corner. 
The dragon growled as its head turned, coming around from behind you. Before it could fire, Stoick slammed his fist into its face, getting the attention onto him.
It belched out the last of its flame, looking weakly down at the splatter and up at Stoick.
“You're all out of juice.” He clenched his fists and punched the monstrous nightmare, bullying it until it retreated desperately back into the night.
You tensed up, feeling the burning hot metal of the pillar crunch and crumble. The wooden pole leaning and the flaming bowl of coals on top spilled as it toppled. Falling to the side and crashing into a fire gust of ashes into a small pool of water.
Vikings gathered around you as you timidly looked up at Stoick.
Oh, and there's one other thing you should know…
A woman cried and gasped, the coals flickering and landing across the ground and the dirt. Your shoulders tensing and rising with each noise. Slowly turning to Stoick who did not look happy.
“Sorry… dad..”
You and the others all watched as the dragons flew by, the sound of the sheep they'd captured from the island sounding off as they left. 
Slowly pursing your lips you turned to your father. “Ok but I hit a night fury-”
Stoick grabbed you by the back of your collar, dragging you off effortlessly.
“Ah! It's not like the last few times, dad! I really actually hit it.”
“You guys weren't around. I was alone when I hit it. I had a clear shot.” 
Gobber watched regretfully as you were dragged. “It fell just off Ravens point I say let's get a search party out there-”
“Stop!” Stoick interrupted you, making you purse your lips again silently as he now stood you in front of him. “Just stop.”
“Every time you get out, trouble follows. Can't you see I have bigger problems?? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed.”
An awkward pause before you speak. “Well between you and me the village could use a little less of that? No?”
A Viking behind you silently disagrees as he rubs his round stomach. No, no, the village can stay well fed. They like it.
“This is not a joke! Y/n!” Stoick sighs. “Why can't you just follow the simplest of orders??”
You bounce on your feet. “I-I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it.” You twist your hands, looking up at him. 
Yeah, right. Like you could ever kill a dragon. 
“It's who I am, dad.” You say, sighing. You're full of crap.
Stoick rubs his face. “Ey… you are many things y/n, but a dragon killer? Is not one of them… get back to the house.”
He looks up at Gobber, motioning him. “Make sure they get there.”
Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 
“I have their mess to clean up…” Stoick walks past as Gobber leads you sulking home.
To make things worse you passed the other teens, Soap snickering with Gaz. “Quite the performance.” Gaz commented.
“Wow, I've never seen someone mess up that badly.” Graves leaned in your face. “That helped.”
You sulked by, noticing Ghost admiring his axe in the background, leaned up against the stone ledge.
“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”
As you pass Gober grips Graves helmet and shoves him back, making him choke. “Ow-!”
You two walk back to the house, your annoyance stewing. “I really did hit one.”
“Sure you did.”
“He never listens.”
“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.
“And when he does it's always with this disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”
You turn just before the door, making a mock impression of your father, raising your eyebrows in anger. “Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring.” 
You raise your arms in annoyance, doing wild gestures. “I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!”
“Now, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand.” Gobber offers you a smile, to which your expression drops.
You sigh flatly. “Thank you for summing that up.”
“Look, I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to be what you're not.” Gobber says as you open the door to the house.
“I just.. wanna be one of you guys..” You say, closing the door behind you. 
Gobber sighs sadly, starting to leave, giving you space.
All the space you needed to sneak out of the back of the house. Immediately rushing down the back of the hill the house was set on…
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“Either we finish them, or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in.” 
Stoick looks around the Meade hall, slamming his knife into a map on the table, seeing all the hesitation. 
“Those ships never come back!” One Viking calls out from the end of the long table.
“We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now who's coming with me?”
“Today's not good for me. I've gotta do my axe returns.” One mumbles.
Stoick leans back from the table. “Alright. Those who stay behind can look after y/n.”
Immediately every hand at the table went up. And Stoick nodded. “That’s more like it.”
Gobber sat at the table, finishing off a tankard of drink. “Alright, I'll pack my undies.”
Stoick came over to him, sitting next to him at the table. “No, I need you to stay here and train some new recruits.”
Gobber mulls over his cup, before replying sarcastically. “Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Y/n can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to themself... what could possibly go wrong?”
Stoick sighed, slouching slightly. “What am I going to do with them, Gobber?”
“Put them in training like the others.”
“No, I'm serious.”
“So am I.” 
They look at each other, Stoick leaning his arm on the table. “They'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!”
“You don't know that.” Gobber goes back to his drink.
“I do, actually.”
“No, you don't.” Gobber points a finger at him.
“Listen, you know what their like.” He got up from the table. “From the time they could crawl, they've been… different.”
He walked around the table by the fire against the wall.
“They don't listen,” Gobber chokes on his drink as he listens. “They have the attention span of a sparrow.” Stoick goes on.
Gobber looks into his drink for his missing tooth which he previously choked on.
Stoick is still on. “I take them fishing and they go hunting for- for trolls!”
“Trolls are real!” Gobber points his drink arm at Stoick. “They steal your socks. But only the left ones… what's with that??”
Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”
“Oh here we go.” 
“My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him.” 
Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”
“You got a headache.”
“That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could- He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!” He gestures loud. “Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.” 
Stoick goes and sits at the table again, slouching. “Y/n is not that kid.”
“You can't stop them, Stoick. You can only prepare them. Look, I know it seems hopeless.” Gobber gestures his drink arm.
“But the truth is you won't always be around to protect them. Their going to get out there again. Their probably out there now.”
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And he was right. Out the forest at Ravens point, he exasperatedly crossed another X in your book. You'd been searching everywhere for this damn dragon, eventually giving up.
“Oh the gods hate me…” you snapped the book shut. “Some people lose their knife or their mug, not me.”
You scuff your feet. “I manage to lose an entire dragon.” You walk down the path, angrily slapping a tree branch that comes right back at you.
Turning your attention to the part of the part that is disturbed. A large dirt train plowed through the land. 
You frown, following it up to a small hill. As you climb it, your eyes land sight of the dragon. You gasp, your heart racing as you immediately duck down. 
Your eyes go wide as you hide behind the mound, panting. What do you do?? What do you do??
You sat up, immediately searching for your knife. Grabbing it out shakily and holding it like your life depended on it.
You slid down the hill, hiding behind a large rock before poking out. Seeing the dragon tied up and caught in the net you'd flung it into. 
You disastrous human. How could you? How could you do this?
You smiled though, shocked, in pure shock. “Oh wow, this- this fixes everything!” You walked over, putting your foot on its shoulder. “I have brought down this mighty beast-”
The dragon bellows in pain, shrugging its shoulder to push you off, making you jump and scramble back.
You shake and pant as you hold your knife out in front of you, walking closer. You can see the dragon's blue green eyes on you, staring at you.
“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!” You hold the knife down, pointed at the beast.
The night fury breathes heavily, clearly scared as it stares at you with a sharp gaze, awaiting its horrific fate.
You raise the knife above your head, steeling yourself for the moment, peeling an eye open to look down at the dragon. It still stared at you, helpless, and scared.
You readjust the knife, taking a deep breath. The dragon moans, laying its head down and closing its eyes. Scared, but knowing it's fate. 
And that breaks you. It's the last noise of distress going unheeded to any cruel human that would have found him. 
You attempted to shoo the thought and claim its life, but instead.. you couldn't. You groaned, slumping the knife handle to the top of your head. 
You slumped, rubbing the side of your face and looking at the knife, then the dragon. No, no you couldn't do this. 
“I did this…” You slowly back up, returning to leave, but looking back at those ropes. 
You went back, and you started to cut. The dragon’s eyes shot open in an instant, looking over as you sawed the blade through the ropes and pulled it free. 
As soon as the last rope that freed its legs was off, it jumped at you, growling in your face as it pushed you to the ground.
Your head hit the edge of the rock as its claw kept your chest pinned. You gasped for air, looking up at the dragon, into its sharp eyes. 
The dragon growled down at you as you leaned your face away, your heart pounding. The dragon leaned his arm off your chest, slamming you down and roaring in your face. 
It turned and dashed, flying off, taking off lopsided and flying into a tree. It wailed when it hit the ground and then tried to take off again, wailing in pain as it flew into the fog.
You slowly reached for your knife, clutching your heart as your eyes remained blown wide. 
You tried to stand, your knees shaking like a deer and weak. You felt wheezy and like you would vomit at any moment. Not making it far before hitting the ground with a thud and falling unconscious.
It was late by the time you came home, walking into the house to see your father, Stoick stoking the fire, waiting for you.
You slowly closed the door, seeing him and attempting to rush by and head upstairs. Going full hands and knees rushed, but it was futile. 
“Y/n.”
“Dad, uh…” You swallowed awkwardly, your thoughts immediately rushing back to earlier that day and the shit you'd probably get into if he knew you let a night fury free…
“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”
Stoick stood, coming over. “I have to talk to you too, y/n.”
Both of you took deep breaths.
“I've decided I don't want-”
“I've decided it's time you learn-”
“To fight dragons. What??”
Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”
“No, no you go first.” You started to sweat a little, gripping the stairs, feeling your collar getting tight.
“All right.” Stoick sighs, massaging his knuckles. “You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.”
“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” You panicked a lot, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, looking away.
“Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?”
Stoick leaned over, picking up an axe. “You'll need this.” He hands it to you, making you huff with the weight on your incredibly toothpick durability, q-tip quality arms.
“Gah-” you panicked, looking at him worriedly. “Dad, I don't want to kill dragons.” You protested. 
Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”
“Rephrase… Dad, I can't kill dragons.” you held the axe, your legs weak and your stomach churning sickeningly with the thought of being ignored in this.
“But you will kill dragons.”
Your worry grows, gripping the axe. “No, I'm very extra sure that I won't.”
“It's time Y/n.”
“Can you not hear me!?” You ask desperately and exasperated.
“This is serious, y/n.”
He gestured. “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you.” Stoick picks the axe up from your arms and adjusts it. 
“Which means you walk like us.” He bunches your shoulders together and fixes your slouch. “You talk like us. You think like us. No more of…. This.” He gestured vaguely to you. 
“You just gestured to all of me.” You pouted.
“Deal??” Stoick asked, making your heart sink at once again being completely ignored.
“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”
“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.
“Deal…”
“Good.” He nods to you, not even touching you. He picked up his sack for the voyage and his Viking hat. 
“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”
“And I'll be here… maybe.”
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“Welcome to dragon training.” Gobber says as you all enter the ring. A large stone pit tug into the groups full of armory and cages with chain domed across the top.
Ghost leads the group of teens into the ring, holding his axe firmly in his hand. He looks around, parts of his slightly long blonde hair hanging in front of his sharp brown eyes.
Such a warm color, such a cold stare. “No turning back.” He said to mostly himself, the others checking out the place.
Oh and there's you in the back. Toothpick. 
“I hope I get some serious burns.” Graves says.
“Yeah, I'm hoping for some maulings. Like on my shoulder or my lower back.” Soap commented with a grin.
Ghost spoke up, tilting his head. “Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.” He already had a few. From dragon fights? No. But scars nonetheless. He wanted a scar from the dragon's he killed. 
Even if he would have to force the mark. 
You mumbled sarcastically from the background. “Oh yeah… pain, great.. love it..”
They all look back, simultaneously looking at you with disgust, while Ghost just scrunched his nose. “Oh great, who let you in??” Graves complains.
“Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.” Gobber said, motioning you all into the middle of the rock pit. Closer to your doom.
“Well, Y/n already killed a Night Fury, so, does that disqualify him or…?” Graves smirked at you antagonistically.
“Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?” Soap added on to the taunt as they walked away without you.
Gobber got closer to you, smiling softly. “Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target! They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.”
With that Gobber explained the essence of dragon training. Behind each of the doors is a dragon. The training sessions will focus on an aspect of fighting. The person last standing against the dragon is to be the winner of the round.
Whoever wins in the end?? You get a brag tag for a good chunk of years.
Gobber went on. “Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight! The Deadly Nadder!” 
“Speed: eight; Armor: sixteen.” Gaz finally spoke up.
“The Hideous Zippleback!”
“Plus eleven stealth times two.”
“The Monstrous Nightmare!”
“Firepower: fifteen.”
“The Terrible Terror!” 
“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”
“CAN YOU STOP THAT?! And... the Gronckle!” Gobber snapped, getting to the last door. He hooked his interchangeable arm to the latch. 
“Woah, hang on- aren't you going to teach us first??” Graves asked in disbelief.
Gobber shrugged. “I believe in learning on the job.”
He pulled the door open and released the Gronckle. The others tensed up and watched the thing as it flew toward them, eyeing them all like snacks.
It swallowed some of the rocks set out and blasted it's fiery molten liquid at you four.
“Today is about survival. If you get blasted... you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?”
“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.
“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.
Ghost eyed the dragon, then around the ring. “A shield!” 
“Shields! Go!” Gobber instructed, Ghost being the first to turn and run for one. 
“Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!” 
You rushed to grab one, picking it up and heaving up the heavy thing. You attempted to find the arm strap, searching rapidly before Gobber came over. 
Exasperation filled as he lifted it up and shoved it gently into your chest.
Graves grabbed a shield with skulls on it, Soap frowning. “Hey!” The only shield left being one with flowers.
“Take that one, that one has flowers.” Graves teased, pouting his lip at Soap. 
“But- ah!” Soap was thrown to the ground when the Gronckle’s tail hit him in the side.
“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.
“What…??”
“Shields are good for another thing. Making lots of noise. Throw the dragon's aim off!”
You, Ghost, Graves, and Gaz all start banging your shields, the Gronckle's eyes crossing and trying to shake the disorientation off.
“All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?” Gobber asks.
You all circle around the dragon, it's eyes trying to focus on anything. You rush back to a corner, hiding back behind one of the armor walls, holding your shield in the crack. 
Pussy.
“Uh, five??” Graves replies while he rushes away.
“No, six!” Gaz counters. 
“That's correct. Six. One for each of you.”
The Gronckle gets its surroundings back and blasts molten at Gaz’s shield, making him cry with surprise.
“Gaz, you're out!”
Gaz gulps and yells as he runs for safely of the out zone. 
Gobber notices you. “Y/n! Get in there!!”
You attempt to move away from your wall only to get a blast thrown at you. Fearing you scuffling back away, Gobber ones over and pushes you into the ring again.
Ghost faced the Gronckle as it came around again, ready to take it down, distributing his weight well. 
Graves came right up behind him, rolling his shoulders. “So, anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out.”
Ghost rolls his eyes and starts to move, Graves looking surprised. “You look like you work out!”
The Gronckle fires it's shot for Ghost at Graves, hitting his shield. “Graves! You're done!”
Ghost rolled over next to you, both of you the only two left. You looked nervously over at him. He's so cool. Just a tad taller than you. Lanky but you can see he has muscle definition on his arms. 
He's just.. ah! A real Viking. That's what your dad wants you to be.
“I uh.. guess it's just you and me now huh?” You ask him nervously.
He glowers before lifting his head. “Nope, just you.” He dashes out of the way, the Gronckle fires. 
“Gah!!” You raise your shield to take the blow meant for Ghost. The shield knocks from your hand, barely missing you. 
Without shield and one shot left you run back for your shield, the Gronckle hot on your track. The shield rolls away from you across the ground, looking back and you panic seeing the dragon right there.
“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.
It manages to corner you to the wall. Face right against your chest. Your heart pounds, your limbs feel cold and rigid, and on fire all at once. 
It opens its mouth and down its throat the molten glow of its last shot, before a hook pulls it away. It blasts it's shot into the wall and you cover your head, curling up.
Gobber drags the dragon back away.
“And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!” He shoves it back into the pen and closes the door.
“You'll get another chance, don't you worry.” He says to you as he walks back over, bending down. “Remember: a dragon will always- always- go for the kill.”
He grabs your arm and picks you up. You looked at the wall where the charred remains of the burn flickered down the rock incline…
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Leading you back to the site of the crash, your curiosities got to you as you picked up one of the rocks on the bola. Where you'd freed the night fury from.
“So… why didn't you??” 
Why hadn't the dragon gone for the kill. You would have stabbed it, you had a weapon for crying out loud! It had every opportunity… and it didn't.
You place the bola down, standing and hopping over a log. Walking the path down to a split between two rock digs. You slipped through the small passage, which opened up. 
The tall rock face harbors trees and a small lake. It was nice… peaceful. The tall walls of rock keep it hidden and closed.
“This was stupid.” You say, moments before looking over and seeing a couple of black scales resting down the dirt incline down into the small crop.
The dragon.
You kneel down and pick one up, looking it over before hearing a roar. In an instant you jump back in fear as the Night Fury dives up over the small passage, climbing at the walls.
It's claws dig in, scrambling frantically and attempting to flap its wings and get over the edge of the rock.
You watched as it wailed and gave up, falling back and gliding awkwardly over the pond and landing on its side across on the other side.
Pant, scared but fascinated. Watched the dragon moan in sadness and pain. You hop down from the ledge, scrambling onto another rock stool and watch the night fury as it moves about.
It tries several more times to fly. Flapping its wings and hopping up but never managing to pull itself over the ledge. Crying angrily as it lands.
Your eyes widen, pulling out your sketchbook. No Night Fury had ever been recorded, you had to do this. Wow wow.
You quickly sketched up a drawing of the dragon, watching it snarl angrily. 
“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 
The dragon snarls and shoots a plasma blast at the ground.
Looking at the dragon you notice it only has one tail fin, while your drawing has two. You rub away the charcoal with your sleeve, your curiosities only growing.
The dragon tries to fly, swerving along the rock and slamming down onto the ground. It whines in pain, it's nose near the water's edge. Noticing some fish. It perks up in hope, diving its head into the water, but the fish are fast enough to escape its attempts.
It whines, still hungry.
In a moment of weakness, you feel bad for the creature. Why was this happening, why was it stuck here?? Your pencil rolled from between your fingers. 
Your eyes widened but before you could grab it it fell down the steep rock. Bouncing on the rocks and attracting the Night Fury’s attention.
You froze, and it froze. Both of you are looking at each other. It glares at you, growling low. But it looks.. curious in a way.
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When you finally make your way to the Meade hall it's late. You'd spent all your time watching the night fury and becoming so fascinated that you didn't care to come back. Until now.
Walking in and seeing the other teens gathered around Gobber. Talking over strategies and what happened in the ring.
“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”
“I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble.” Ghost said with some sarcasm as he poked at his food.
“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.
“No no, you were great. That was so… “Ghost.”” Graves said, once again attempting to land an unflattering attempt.
“He's right, you have to be tough on yourselves.” Gobber notices you walk in soaked, coming to the table. “Where did Y/n go wrong?”
“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.
“Their didn't get eaten??” Graves said.
“Their never where they should be.” Ghost said, watching you with a nasty look as you scoot yourself over to the next table, knowing you weren't welcome around them.
Gobber walked over to you. “Thank you, Ghost.” He smacks Soap and Graves in the head. “You need to live and breathe this stuff. The dragon manual.” He holds up a book. 
Leather bound with a dragon symbol burned into the front, tied with string to keep old pages together.
He cleared a part of the table and put the book down. “Everything we know about every dragon we know of.”
Thunder crackled overhead, Gobber sighed, knowing lightning to come. “No attacks tonight. Study up for tomorrow.” 
“Wait, you mean, read??” Graves frowned, crossing his arms.
“Well maybe it would do you some good.” Gaz spoke up.
“Shut your mouth, I don't need to read nothing! Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you about??”
“Oh! I've read it like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And- And there's this other one that buries itself for like a week-”
“Yeah, that sounds great. So there's a chance I was going to read it…” Soap starts.
“But not now.” Graves says, causing Soap to glare at him a little.
Even if they all were irritable brats at the age of sixteen, they all had some kind of friendship with each other. Some kind… more than they had with you. Because you're a loser. 
Your eyes drift back over to Ghost who hadn't said a word about the book while the others bicker. Dragging his knuckles along the side of his tankard. 
You could see the scars that started just before his wrist guards hid them away. Occasional Knicks and scratches along his arms and biceps. 
Must have been from falls or accidents because he'd not properly fought a dragon or a hunter…
The others move from the table to go back home. You get up, going to the book by where Ghost sat. “So I guess we’ll… share??”
“Read it.” He pushed the book, getting up and walking off.
“Oh, uh, all mine, then. Wow. So, ok, I'll see you…” You looked up as the door shut. They were already gone…
The hall was dark with only you in it. You sat down at the table with a candle and opened the book.
Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class.
You started to read. Reading through the book, the endings of each of the entries being extremely deadly: kill on sight.
Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.
You continued to flip the pages. “Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out.”
“Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…” 
Through every page of every class. Until you got to the end.
You flipped the last page. At the top it said Night Fury. The page being otherwise almost completely empty.
“Night Fury: Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon.” 
You hesitated on the last part. “Your only chance: Hide and pray it does not find you.”
You pulled out your sketchbook, dropping the sketch of the Night Fury on the page. You had found a Night Fury. It had let you close. It .. hadn't killed you.
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You stood the next day in the training ring, in the middle of a training session. Holding your shield and axe, you shifted from one foot to the other. Surrounded by a maze of tall builds all put together for the Deadly Nadder to find and kill you.
“You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?”
The Deadly Nadder jumps atop one of the lofts, firing at you, taking off the head of your axe. “Gah!”
“Focus y/n! You're not even trying!” Gobber scolds. 
“Today is all about ATTACK! Nadders are quick and light on their feet! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!” Gobber continues.
Gaz gasped, running away as the Nadder searches him out. Throwing spikes from its tail at him, sinking into the wall above his head and his shield.  “Ah!! I'm really starting to question your teaching methods!!”
Gobber, undeterred, continues. “Look for it's Blindspot. Every dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike.”
You rush by as Soap turns a corner, coming face to snout with the Nadder. He gasps, holding in a breath as it moves its head, attempting to stay in the Blindspot. 
“Steamin’ hell… this thing stinks.” He wheezes. “Do you ever bathe??” He gags, trying to cover his mouth.
The Nadder turns its head, growling and spitting fire at him. “Ah!”
“Blind spot? Yes. Deaf spot? Not so much.” Gobber grins, leaning his face against his palm as he watched from above the chain net. 
Seeing Ghost running through the intricate maze, you hanging on his tail like a mouse finding safety with the cat.
You pause, looking up at Gobber. “Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?”
“No one's ever seen one and loved to tell the tale.” He snaps his fingers. “Now get in there!!”
“Y/n.” Ghost whispers your name. You turn to see Ghost kneeled down by one of the platforms, Graves behind him, nodding to you to be quiet. You skip over, hiding against the wall.
Ghost pokes his head out, seeing the Nadder coming around. He hides again, taking a deep breath and preparing himself before rolling forward on his shield. 
He pushes off, hiding behind the next wall, Graves following and doing the same. When you attempt it, the shield does not follow your small body through the roll, trapping you against the ground.
The Nadder sees you, and runs. “Gah!” You scramble up and run. The Nadder roars and flies up on top of the walls, jumping down in front of Ghost. 
He readied himself but Graves pushed him aside. “Watch out babe, I'll take care of this.”
“Hey!” Ghost growls at him, seething at him as he throws his weapon, completely missing.
The Nadder growls, Ghost glaring at him. “The sun was in my eyes, Ghost.” The Nadder roars, Ghost making a run for it away from that meat head. 
“What do you want me to do?? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don't have time!” He dodges the attack, running after Ghost as the Nadder makes chase.
Graves continues rambling, looking back and making a swift turn down another aisle. Ghost looks back, gasping and crying as the Nadder is seconds away from him. He dashes around the corner and turns, slamming into the wall.
The Nadder follows, roaring at him as Ghost scrambles and runs, the walls starting to knock over from the collision.
You were still rambling to Gobber like an idiot. “Like so they take the daytime off?? Like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one, napping??”
Gobber looks up from his bored expression as Graves run by. 
“Y/n!” 
The walls of the maze collapse, the Nadder snapping at Ghost’s heels as he jumps up across one of the falling walls. He jumps to another wall, and you're right in his landing path.
“Y/n!!” He yells, and jumps. You scramble back, falling on the ground as he lands with a thud on top of you.
“Ooh,” Soap teases. 
Ghost glares at you, shoving your face away and attempting to stand, his axe lodged in your shield. 
“Hey, why- let me… why don't you…?” He shoves your chest down, standing up, his knee between your legs causing you to gasp in pain. 
He does not care. Grabbing his axe angrily trying to pry it away. The Nadder turns back, readying its shot for you and Ghost.
Ghost sees it and grows more panicked, grabbing his axe, his foot landing on your cheek. “Ow! Ow! Ow!!”
He attempts to pull his axe away as the Nadder comes closer.
He finally pries it from your arm and swings his axe at the Nadder’s face, your shield splintering. 
The Nadder cries in pain and turns, walking off. Ghost pants, looking off in panic as he grips his axe.
“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.
Ghost doesn't respond, the interaction having a grip on his core. Before his fear replaced with anger and he turned to you, curled up in the fetal position.
“Is this some kind of a joke to you!? Our parents' war is about to become ours!” He points his axe at you. “Figure out which side you're on.” 
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Back to trying again with the Night Fury. You head down to the cove, bringing a new shield. Propping it between two rocks and tossing a fish into the open. You slide under it, crawling on your hands and knees.
Once on the other side you attempt to pry the shield out but it's stuck. You sigh, heading over to the fish and picking it up by under the fin. 
You look around, slowly walking into the open. Feeling slightly panicky, but you've had decent luck with this dragon so far. What with it not eating you the first time. 
Perhaps it was wise enough to know you weren't worth it. You'd be more of a chew toy than a hefty meal.
You walk along the pond, looking around for the night fury, aware it had eyes on you minutes earlier. It peers out from a rock as it watches you pass. It's eyes focus on you, tail swishing.
Finally it comes down from the rock, and you see it from your peripheral. You gasp, gripping the fish tight as the dragon comes down and around, sniffing the snack in your hand, growling at you.
You hold the fish out. Would it take it?? It cranes its body sideways like a cat, tilting its head and sniffing the treat. 
It's pupils softening before growling and jumping back. Your hand retreats with the fish, gasping softly. 
You pull your sweater open, your knife tucked into your clothes. When you reach for it, the dragon snarls. 
You gasp, feeling your heartbeat picking up again, slowly removing the knife and dropping it.
The dragon's ears go down, growling away, and you kick the knife away into the pond.
Afterwhich, the dragon relaxes, pupils softening again. It sits, ear flicking. It continues to hold its body arched like a cat as it comes over when you extend the fish again.
“Ah, Toothless.” You say, seeing his gummy mouth and lack of teeth. “I could have sworn you had-” His teeth suddenly snap out and he snatches the fish from your hands. 
Your eyes widen as he scarfs down the snack. “-Teeth…”
He enjoys his snack before looking back at you, lowering his head and coming over.
“Ah, ah.. uh, I don't have any more.” You stammer, backing up and tripping over your heel back against a rock.
Toothless gurgled, looking at you before starting to regurgitate his food. You tense up, cringing a little when he spits up part of the fish in your lap.
“Ugh…”
He sits back, looking at you expectantly. His eyes move from the fish, then to you when you do nothing.
You sigh, hesitantly taking a bite of the food, retching it up, putting a hand over your mouth and forcing yourself to swallow it.
Toothless perks up, you shudder and look up at him, attempting to smile after that…. Delicious cuisine.
You smile awkwardly. Toothless frowns, before attempting to smile back. His lip twitching and showing his gummy smile that he gives you. 
Your eyes widen a little. This… was not a kill on sight dragon. This wasn't something you'd slaughter for sport. 
He was smiling at you. Why, from all the dragon's you'd ever been taught about, the most deadly was smiling at you. Sharing his food…
You slowly stand, extending your hand, to which Toothless’ smile drops. He growls, and flies off, crying as he spirals against the wind, only able to drift and hit the ground a ways away. 
He huffs against the dirty, slowly getting up and shaking himself off. He walks over to a small hill, blasting a controlled amount of heat against the ground, charring it into a nice warm bed.
He looks up at a bird in its nest, chirping and flying away. And then… he sees you. How unsightly. No one wants to see that before bed.
He groans and curls up. Folding in his wings and wrapping his tail around his face to keep him well hidden and secured.
You smile, inching a little closer. You boldly reach out to touch his tail, but Toothless is one step ahead. He lifts his tail, huffing at you. 
You quickly stand, wobbling on shaky legs and awkwardly walking away from him. Toothless stares dully, getting up and moving from his spot, somewhere you surely couldn't get him.
Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.
You let him be. Sitting on a rock a couple feet away. Wasting away the time until the evening rolled around and Toothless slowly came out of his nap.
Moving his tail and looking over at you, drawing in the dirt with a stick.
He gurgled, hopping down and quietly coming over to see what you were doing.
You rested your cheek against your fist, aimlessly drawing a little figure of Toothless in the dirt.
Toothless watches curiously, purring a growl and getting up on his back legs. He waddled away. You look back when you hear the snapping of a tree branch. 
Toothless comes back with his own drawing stick, purring and trailing it around in the dirt.
You watch him in shock and surprise as toothless drags the stick around, smiling and clutching it tight in his mouth. 
He purrs as he swirls and twists around, finally finishing his creation of spirals and mapping trails between you and him.
You finally stand, looking around at what he's created. All the lines and the paths. You walk out toward one of the lines. When your foot steps on it, Toothless growls. 
It shocks you a little, looking over at him and quickly taking your foot off the line. Toothless raises his head, purring at you in response.
You put your foot on the line, and he growls.
Taking it off, Toothless purred.
You did it a couple of times before understanding. It's trust. Toothless is offering trust. You smile softly, stepping over the line, aware of where your feet when as he stepped around and over the lines. 
Finally stopping with your back to Toothless. You sink a little, feeling a warm breath fan across the nape of your neck and down your back.
You turn and look up at him. Toothless’ gaze is soft. You pant softly, reaching your hand up. Toothless pulls his head away slightly, growling a little.
You pull your hand back, looking into his eyes. So you turn away. Closing your eyes and extending your hand again. 
Toothless’ eyes soften. He looks at your palm, leaning his head forward and hesitating, before gently leaning his nose into your palm, closing his eyes.
You exhale softly in surprise, feeling it. Toothless… trusts you. This was trust.
You looked up at Toothless. His eyes narrow again. He pulled away, wriggling his nose and huffing before dashing off.
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The incident didn't leave your mind. Even when you went home, you couldn't face anyone after the thought of Toothless. 
Sat atop the watch tower with Gobber and the others, roasting food over the crackling fire while he went on about a tale.
You weren't particularly listening, your gaze focused on your fingers, slowly turning the stick that was jabbed through your fish.
“...And with one twist, he took my hand, and swallowed it whole!” Gobber waved his stick, with a whole chicken on the end of it. 
“And I saw the look on his face: I was delicious. He must have passed the word, because it wasn't a month before another one of them took my leg.”
Gaz frowned in concentration, digging into his food. “Isn't it weird to think that your hand was inside a dragon?” He motioned one of the meat legs toward Ghost, who glared and shifted away.
What was that idiots problem. Ghost was close to biting his arm off.
“Like if your mind was still in control of it, you could have killed the dragon from the inside by... crushing his heart, or something.” Gaz continued, Graves staring at him from across the firepit as it grew silent.
“Right…” Graves muttered. “I swear, I'm so angry right now! I'll avenge your beautiful hand and your beautiful foot. I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight. With my face!” 
“Un-unh. It's the wings and the tails you really want. If it can't fly, it can't get away. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” Gobber said, snapping a leg off his chicken.
Your eyes slowly widen. Toothless. Toothless was down. That's the first thing you'd listened to all night. Pulled from your stupor of pointless thoughts.
Gobber yawned and got up. “Alright. I'm off to bed. You should be, too. Tomorrow we get to the big boys. Slowly but surely making our way up to the Monstrous Nightmare. But who'll win the honor of killing it?”
“It's gonna be me! It's my destiny, see??” Soap rolled up his sleeve, showing his arm.
“Woah, your mom let you get a tattoo??”
“It's not a tattoo, it's a birthmark.”
“I've known you literally since we were babies, and I've never seen that.” Graves replies. 
“Yes, it was. You've just never seen me from the left side until now.”
After hearing what Gobber had said about dragons, your interests turn to the forge. If you're going to get Toothless out of there alive you'd need to help him. 
It wouldn't be on his own…
Ghost watched you, cold gaze following as you walked away from the fire and back down the watch tower. 
You headed to the forge quickly, pulling out your sketchbook and laying it out on the table. Alright, now for something that could help Toothless. Time to get to work.
You worked long into the night. Heating the forge and putting together a device that you knew would help. You worked until your eyes were heavy and the sunrise poked over the edge of the water.
Finally putting out the flames and grabbing what you could, you headed back to the house. Stumbling inside and slumping into your hard bed for just an ounce of sleep.
After a bit of rest and recuperating you headed out a few hours later, ready to help Toothless. Your plan was foolproof. And you brought along a giant basket of fish just for it.
When you got back to the cove, Toothless was waiting for you. “Hey Toothless, I brought you some fish.” You set down the basket and kicked it over with your foot. “We've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod…”
Toothless began to sniff through the fish, nudging through to find the good stuff.
“And a whole smoked eel…” You slowly stepped around the pile when toothless growled. He backed up, snarling at the pile. 
You tilted your head and reached in, pulling out the eel. Toothless saw it and expanded his wings in defense, roaring loudly.
“No, no no no! It's ok!” You quickly threw the eel away and placed out your hand to him, your contraption firmly under the other.
He huffed and you wiped your hand on your coat. “Yeah, I don't much like eel either…”
And Toothless went sniffing through the pile of fish again, wolfing down a few without wasting time.
“That's it…” you slowly backed up behind him. “That's it. Just stick with the good stuff.” 
You slowly set up the wing you'd made. “And don't you mind me I'll be back here…  minding my own business…”
You attempted to wrangle Toothless’ tail. Strapping the belts around it as he dug around the basket. Having to sit on his tail and gently spread open the fabric.
When you finally got it hooked on, you sat back. “Hey, doesn't look half bad.”
Toothless’ head perked up as soon as he felt it. A weight on his other tail. He slowly patted his feet into the ground. He could fly… he could fly.
Toothless spread his wings, and took off. “Woah! Whooaa!!” You gasped, seeing the ground suddenly falling away from you. You leaned down, grabbing and holding onto Toothless’ tail tightly.
“No no no!!” You cried as Toothless darted for the coves edge. You watched wide eyed, your adrenaline pumping.
The tail had closed and was flailing in the wind, Toothless starting to lose air. 
Oh fuck oh fuck. You managed to pry one sweaty hand from his tail and pull it open. Toothless caught air and zoomed up into the sky. 
“Oh, my…! It's working!!” You cried as Toothless flew away from the island. He twisted in the air, flying back over the cove and back across the pond. 
“Yes! Yes! I did it!”
Toothless looked back. What the?? Why is this toothpick still hanging on to me!? 
He twisted upside down and flicked his tail, tossing you into the pond and flew away. 
Losing control of himself, he shrieked as he slammed back into the ground across the lake. He looked at the folded in tail angrily. 
You swam above the water furiously, smiling. “Yeah!” You splashed.
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The next day at training you were faced with the Hideous Zippleback. Teamed up with Gaz, your goal was to work together to disarm the two headed dragon of its abilities.
One head spreading flammable gas, the other head lights that gas.
“Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion. Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-”
You frowned at Gaz, gripping your bucket tight. “Would you please stop that!?”
As more gas filled the arena, Graves and Soap turned back to back, looking around for any sign of the dragon.
“If that dragon shows either of his faces, I'm gonna- there!” Graves spotted something through the gas, both him and Soap frantically throwing their buckets of water.
The gas cleared, and there stood hell itself. A soaking. Wet. Ghost.
Oh.
“Oh it's just Ghost, we thought you were a dragon!” Soap shrinks back, smiling like an awkward idiot. 
“Well, clearly,” he snapped coldly. “I am not!”
“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”
Graves hit Soap with his elbow. “Not that there's nothing wrong with a…” Ghost was already marching toward him.
“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 
Ghost punched him hard in the nose, sending him back. He landed on his butt, before he could get up something snatched him into the gas.
Ghost put his arm in front of Soap. “Wait.” He whispered. 
There was a cry and Graves ran from the smoke. “Ow! Ow!”
Gaz gulped, you and him still back to back. “Chances of survival are dwindling in the single digits now…”
One of the dragon's heads peered out from the smoke and came toward you two. Sharp yellow eyes trained on Gaz.
“Woah, Woah!” He scrambled back as it cornered him, and he threw his bucket of water onto it.
The dragon rippled a growl, gas billowing from beyond its maw. 
“Oh… wrong head.” He smiled awkwardly. It drenched Gaz in gas, Gobber calling out for him, and Gaz made a run for it.
Leaving you the last one with a water bucket. Both of the heads now coming around, the dragon facing you from both sides. 
One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.
“Now y/n!” Gobber said.
You raised your water bucket. “Eh.” You threw it up, the water barely hitting the dragon. “Oh come on…”
You. Are completely… and utterly useless… be thankful you have a dragon now or you would not survive let me tell you. 
The dragon surrounded you. “Y/n!” Gobber yelled, coming over.
But I admit, what you lack in physical strength you make up in your capacity to learn. 
Standing up slowly, the dragon snarled and whipped back. You pulled the eel from your vest, holding it out to them.
“Back! Back!” You snapped, the dragon snarling and backing away from the eel.
“That's right! Back in your cage!” You corralled it back in, slamming the door shut with all the might you had. Which isn't much.
The others watched. Ghost’s signature glare burning into your skin. This was fucking ridiculous.
You clapped your hands together. “So uh… are we done??” They all stared at you wordlessly. “Because I uh.. I got some stuff to do so I'll just… yeah. See you tomorrow!”
You smiled, spending the rest of the day at the forge. Creating some more things you could use in your adventures with Toothless.
Putting together a saddle.
You brought it to Toothless and when he saw it he smiled. Perking up and running away. “Hey!” You laughed, running after him. 
Toothless gurgled and fled around the ground as you chased after him.
After getting the saddle on you learned pretty quickly you'd need some way to hold on. After a failed fly test force Toothless to panic and throw you off his back into the water again. 
No problem, just a little waist retainer was all that was needed. Hooking it onto the saddle and having another go.
The second time was slightly better. You'd tied a rope around your ankle that would help you pull the tail fin open. 
Toothless roared when you tried again, losing control in the air just after getting out of the cove. 
“Hold hold ha!!” You cried as Toothless squirmed and fell into a bed of tall dragon nip. 
You stumbled, looking around the tall grass and going back to see Toothless rolling around comfortably in the grass. Relaxing fully in total relaxation.
Huh. Odd. 
You picked up some of the nip, looking at it curiously. Again, it's best you have a bigger head than bigger biceps. 
When faced with a Gronckle for the next training exercise, you ended things quickly. It crashed into Graves and went for you. You held up the dragon nip you had taken and it immediately slowed down.
The Gronckle crashed to the ground and you rubbed the dragon nip against its nose. 
The villagers gathered around the top of the pit to watch you in awe, the village elder also noticing how much you'd suddenly improved your dragon prowess in recent days. 
After which all the teens were gathered around you. Well, almost all of them.
“Wow, how did you do that??” Soap asked.
“I never would have thought about that-” Gaz piped up.
“I've never even seen a Gronckle do that!” Graves blurted. 
Ghost trained behind, watching as you laughed awkwardly. “Oh I uh, I left my axe in the ring.” You turned, bumping into Ghost as you did. 
He jumped, pushing you lightly and you went around him. “Sorry, sorry.” 
They watched, the others smiling excitement. Ghost glaring down your whole existence.
Spending more time with Toothless, you began to introduce the fondness of scratches and pets. Scratching the patches of scales along his neck and ear fins.
Toothless groaned, leaning up into it, turning his head and closing his eyes. You scratched under his chin and he went limp, falling to the ground with a content exhale. 
The next day, back in training. 
Ghost yelled, throwing his axe at the deadly Nadder that turned, running back over to you two. It roared loudly, pushing Ghost to the ground, skinning his upper arm. 
You readied yourself, quickly dropping the axe as the Nadder ran to you. 
Ghost scrambled back up, grabbing his axe. His heart pounded as he lifted it and ran. You noticed him and turned quickly to the Nadder.
You reached up, scratching behind its ear, down to its chin and right… there.
The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.
Ghost panted, lowering his axe in disbelief. You smiled at him and shrugged.
This continued on. Spending time with Toothless you learned he was just like a cat. 
Using a hammer to shine a light across the ground, you watched with amusement as Toothless chased after it. Hopping and purring to catch it.
Training faced you with the Terrible Terror. Which admittedly you didn't expect it to be as small as it was.
“Meet the Terrible Terror.”
A small door attached to the main door opened, like a cat door. The tiny dragon scuttling out, licking its eyeball, staring at you all.
“Aw, it's like the size of my- ah!!” Soap jumped back as the Terror jumped at him. You all scattered as Soap landed on the ground, the terror chewing on his nose. 
“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”
The Terror perked up, seeing a light moving across the ground. It flicked its tail, smiling and rushing from Soap after the light. 
You guided it with the shiny part of your shield back into its small hut, closing the door with your foot.
“Wow, he's better than you ever were.” Soap rubs his nose, looking at Ghost.
After which you spent more time working on a harness and a better string attachment for the tail fin.
When rushed through the woods up ran into Ghost, throwing his axe into different trees, training his aim.
He raised his axe, pausing when he saw you. You two looked at each other, and then you rushed off. You couldn't let him see Toothless. 
When Ghost turned to follow after you, you had somehow already disappeared. 
Fuck!
You began to work on the positions of your contraption with Toothless. Strapping him to a tree stump so you could write down the number of each foot turn.
Able to move your heel and shift the position of the tailfin through the rope.
“Position one.” You shifted the lever, writing it down on your little piece of paper. “And position two.” He shifts it, Toothless' wings catching air and the rope snapped. 
“Gah!” You gasped as you were thrown back to the ground. 
Toothless groaned and rolled over, pulling you up by the waist, the waist retainer stuck to the clip of Toothless' saddle.
“Oh brother…”
Forced to drag Toothless back to the village while still tangled together, you snuck past a few guards and led him into the smithing shop. 
You looked around for something to pry the hook open, Toothless shoving his nose in a basket. When he flicked it off, it hit one of the weapons on the wall, causing noise.
Ghost who was passing, heading back, begrudgingly home, heard it.
He walked over to the smithing window. “Y/n?? Are you in there??”
Both you and Toothless looked up. You quickly dropped what you were doing and pushed yourself out the smithing window, looking at him. 
“Ghost- hi, Ghost. Hi, hi… hi Ghost.” You fumbled with the waist trainer. Toothless sniffing around and pulling you back against the doors.
Toothless looked around, spotting a sheep. The sheep spotted him, immediately rushing away. 
“I normally don't care what people do but you're acting weird.”. Ghost points an accusatory finger. “Well, weirder.”
You huffed, stumbling back. The trainer lifted you off your feet. Ghost stared at you as the doors of the smithing window gave in and sucked you back. Ghost immediately rushed over and opened it, seeing the smelter empty. 
You and Toothless sneaking away and flying off. That. Was. Way too close…
That day was the day your father arrived back. One of the boats with several holes in it and barely survived. Their search for a nest of dragons once again produced no fruit.
Gobber was there when Stoick arrived back. “Well, I trust you found the nest at least?”
“Not even close.” He growled, walking past with a fixed frown.
“Oh. Excellent.” Gobber said sarcastically, following Stoick. 
“I hope you had a little more success than me.”
“Well, if by success, you mean that your parenting troubles are over with, then... yes.” He took a basket of supplies over his shoulder while he walked.
Various different Vikings congratulating Stoick on his kid actually becoming vikinglike. Can you imagine that eh?
“Their gone??” Stoick asked.
“Yeah... most afternoons. But who can blame them? I mean the life of a celebrity's very rough. They can barely walk through the village without being swarmed by his new fans.” Gobber replied.
“Y/n??”
“Who would have thought it eh? He has this… way with the beasts.”
Stoick’s eyes widened. Yes. What he'd been waiting for your entire life!
Off somewhere near the edge of the island, you were busy with Toothless. Having written up your complete cheat sheet, you secured the small paper with all of your positions to Toothless' saddle. Slowly gliding through the air.
“Alright bud we're gonna take this nice and slow” You looked over the sheet. “Here we go, here we go. Position…” 
“Three. No… four.” You looked down at the foot pedal and positioned it, the tail fin opening. Toothless looked down at it, wiggling his head and getting used to it. 
The gentle glide turned into a slow fly, Toothless guiding with your help through the winds, his wings catching air flawlessly.
Toothless flew you up into the air, passing some clouds. You held on, looking back at the tail fin. “Alright. It's go time, it's go time.”
Toothless roared and dove down toward the sea stacks littering around the island ocean.
“Come on buddy! Come on buddy!” You encourage. You held onto the saddle tightly when Toothless flew down over the water, the waves lapping up to touch his belly as you went by. 
You looked up as you passed through two connected sea stacks, watching the birds startle and fly off. “Yes, it worked!” 
The tail was holding up so far.
You flew up away from the water, attempting to make a turn and throwing Toothless into a sea stack. He growled and flapped violently. “Sorry!” You winced.
Barely recovering you saw another stack, attempting to pull him up sharply and hitting another. He growled again. “It was my fault.” You cringed.
He hit you with his ear. “Yeah yeah, I'm on it. Position four- uh, three.” You shifted the foot pedal and took off into the sky. Soaring up over the sea stacks and into the fluffy clouds.
“Yeah!! Aw this is nice. The wind in my -” the paper attached to the saddle flew off and into the wind. “Cheat sheet!” You reached back to try and grab it. 
“Stop!!” 
Toothless flapped his wings, halting as best he could, sending you forward. The hook on the waist belt and the saddle came off. 
“No!!” Toothless saw you and panicked, falling back and scrambled. “No!! Oh no!!” You yelled as you fell and spiraled in the sky down toward the sea.
Toothless roared when he saw you falling faster than him. “Oh, gods! Oh, no!!” You cried your lungs out.
“Alright! You gotta kind angle yourself!” You flipped onto your back, trying to help Toothless. “Okay, no, no, no... come back down towards me! Come back down-- YOW!” Toothless’ tail smacked you as you fell. 
You flipped onto your front, reaching out to grab the hook on the saddle, just out of reach. 
Toothless wailed and cried when you finally grabbed it, managing to pull yourself on. Reattaching and gripping the saddle, angled downward. 
The cheat sheet hit you in the face and you grabbed it, putting it between your teeth. You zoomed straight toward a downward plain of trees, trying to pull Toothless back up.
He roared and whined, zooming down at an angle over the trees, his wings catching wind. As you zoomed down to the bottom you pulled the cheat sheet again. With all the wind you couldn't read anything on it.
Looking between the sheet and some sea stacks, you tossed the sheet,grabbing the saddle and readjusting the foot pedal. 
Toothless roared and zoomed to the side, making the corner before you could hit the stones.
You zoomed through the various passages, shifting the foot pedal again through the fog. Coming shooting out the other side into the clear open air. 
You panted, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Yeah!!” You raised your arms. Toothless smiled and shit a blast into the air, ruining your celebration. “Come on…”
You were pummeled into the fire, pushing your hair back and covering your clothes in specs of dirt and char. 
You flew with Toothless some more, your adventure leading you back to a sea stack, there you got some fish and made a small fire.
Toothless laid down, retching up one of his fish heads while you leaned back against him, cooking your own dinner over the fire.
“Uh, no thanks, I'm good.” You refused the fish head. 
Some small dragons spotted you and flew over to your little set up. Those tiny Terrible Terrors. Toothless growled, protecting his fish as they came over, snapping at one.
You watched as one of them grabbed the head of the fish Toothless had belched up and shot at another dragon who tried to take it.
Toothless watches unimpressed, when his food started moving. One of the dragon's trying to sneak a fish from his pile. Toothless growled, grabbing the fish in his teeth and pulling it back. 
The Terror whined, causing toothless to bellow a low laugh. 
The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 
You looked between the two as it stood up on its back legs and inhaled. Before it could do anything Toothless shot a small blast at it, inflating it and it puffed out smoke, whining. 
You chuckled. “Not so fireproof on the inside are ya?” You tossed one of your fish. “Here ya go.” It scuttled over and wolfed it down quickly. 
Licking its eyeball and cautiously wandering over to you. It whines, curling up beside you, purring softly.
“Everything we know about you guys… It's wrong.”
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Unfortunately it won't let me post this much so to read the rest of it please see the reblog I did for the rest of the post. ❤
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dante-mightdie · 19 days
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Well, now we've got to hear about what viking!Gaz is up to!!
gaz my beloved allow me to bestow a single kiss upon your forehead
c/w: nothing really, smut, pinv sex, loss of virginity, very fluff, gaz is a sweetie who loves his wife
viking!gaz is husband material. it’s as simple as that. raised by a single mother after his father died in battle and being the youngest of the family, after 4 older sisters meant he held nothing but the greatest respect for women
he was well known amongst the clan for being a real charmer, a dashing smile which had all the ladies swooning for him. you fell for him the second he defended your honor against some rude drunkard at a feast
unlike the rest of 141, he courted you properly. lavishing you with gifts from his travels and pillages, taking you on walks around the town and earning the favour of your family before he proposed
firm believer in viking!gaz saving himself for marriage. his parents were deeply in love and his mother always wanted the same for him and his sisters. was incredibly respectful even on your wedding night
you both clumsily undressed each other, smiles and soft giggles leaving your mouths as you kiss. curious lovers exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in the soft moonlight, gentle affections mumbled against each others lips when he slips himself inside you for the first time
intense eye contact when you both cum at the same time, his hips stuttering as he revels in the feeling of finishing inside his wife’s pretty cunt for the first time :(
heavily into cockwarming, loves to fall asleep with his dick inside you and waking up the next morning to his load spilling out of you
wants a big family with you and wastes no time in getting started. was by your side the entire time during your pregnancy. he helped you bathe in the late months when you struggled, he even went on a two-day journey to a neighbouring village to fetch this very specific treat you were craving
he cried his eyes out when you delivered a pair of twin baby girls :( buried his face into your hair, thanking you over and over again for having his babies. that he’ll never let anything happen to you or his daughters
is very invested in being a father. always makes time for his family no matter how busy he gets. knowing he has a beautiful wife and two amazing daughters waiting for him back home gives him a reason to fight
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ghouljams · 5 months
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Viking!Gaz thoughts, he has a love back home that he thinks of while he's out with the rest of the viking party. Just the sweetest thing in the world you are. He nearly runs home every time the ship docks back at port. Always gathers you up in his arms and presses his face against your shoulder just the breathe you in, get his fill of home before he has to go back and help unload the ship. You meet every kiss with a smile as he mumbles how much he missed you against your lips. He has little trinkets and gifts the he pulls from the bag at his hip, some beads from a little village in the Faroe, a little bear he carved, black sand from a beach so cold he thought his fingers might freeze.
He tells you all about the excursion in the bath. Both of you settled in a wood tub, your back against his chest as his fingers drag through the warm water. He sits on the floor in front of you afterwards, tips his head back into your hands with his eyes closed as you untwist his braids. Working your quiet magic and scratching at his scalp to spread various sweet oils and ease the tension of rushing home. You'll braid your little love knots into it again, hook your charms into his hair and kiss his forehead before he leaves. For now Gaz fusses with his curls in the mirror, trying to decide if he wants to cut it or not. You're gentle and kind, you're a heaven Gaz always returns to. He can't stay with you forever, but the time he catches with you is filled with joy. Neither of you could ever want anything else.
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miguel-owhora · 2 months
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cod - viking au; pt1
hardcore thinking about viking!mreader fucking his pretty wife gaz hgngh the size difference goes hard. like, viking!mreader is literally a whole foot taller than gaz, and outranks him in broadness alone. he's all big, all muscles and strength, whereas gaz is all lean and lithe.
i imagine that in the beginning, you'd probably starve gaz into obedience. without access to three meals a day, as opposed to his usual meals in his former village, gaz weakened and didn't have much of a chance to fight against you in the beginning. but ever since he became more 'willing', he's been rewarded with food and gained enough fat to become healthy again.
anyways, point is, you dwarf gaz - and anyone else - and gaz is definitely into it.
im just imagining a scene where one of the other boys, one of your pets, barges into your room on accident, midway through a special bonding time with your wife. and they just... stare, mortified but also turned on.
turned on at the sight of you hunched over gaz, your big cock bullied into his tight hole, nearly tearing him in half. gaz is all moans and squeals, trembling legs lazily resting on your shoulders as you pummel into him. your balls hang heavy and fat, smacking against his ass with every thrust, and there's a sliver of annoyance when you realize you have a one-man audience.
you don't stop, but you slow down, slowly thrusting into your sobbing wife as you face your pet with a look of annoyance on their face. and it takes a moment for them to remember why they barged into the room in the first place, too distracted by the idea how much they'd gape if you were to fuck them.
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octopiys · 8 months
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I've been rewatching HTTYD and of course I had to combine my two interests
John MacTavish (27) is a native to the village, most recognized for his shaved sides and long mohawk. He's the village blacksmith, with an affinity for crafting new weapons, large ones that counter even a dragon's fireball.
Once when he was a teenager, he got his hands on a craftsman's items, and decided that he needed some of it to slick down a part of one of his contraptions. It exploded, as those kinds of things do, into a mass of bubbles and sweet scents, earning him the nickname of Soap.
John Price(37) is a trainer. He was an older viking whose battle seemed all but over when a dragon took his arm. He was still the same, just more experienced, and 10 years older.
He's had a few apprentices, his most recent being a younger man named Kyle Garrick(28), or commonly referred to as Gaz. If you ever ask why he's called that, Price will mutter something about it being "need to know", and he'll sick a particularly nasty dragon on you the next time you train with him.
There's a common pattern amongst Price's protégés.
Most of the times they're outcasts, alone. Gaz's parents were killed in a dragon attack when he was a child, but he didn't consider himself alone. He had plenty of friends, of course he did, there's Soap...-
No but totally, he was fine. He's fought dragons! Sure, he hasn't killed any yet, and sure, Price has saved his ass more than once, but he's come out unscathed!
Most of the time.
But Price's most famous protégé, or shall I even say very close ally, was the Lieutenant: Simon Riley
From the stories, Simon Riley was a man who fought dragons like no other. They both learned from each other, Price and Riley. He was a beast of blades and man, they slayed more dragons together than the entire village combined.
It would be a lie if I said that the two boys didn't look up to him, a lie if Price didn't see Riley in each of them.
It would be an even bigger lie if he hoped they didn't turn out like him, either.
Neither Gaz, nor Soap had ever met Simon Riley.
He was killed in one of the worst dragon attacks the village had seen in its entire 300 years of history.
They descended from the heavens, flying warriors sent from hell, carting off men and cattle, snapping them up in powerful jaws and flame. Price was one of those men, it was how he lost his arm. He was also the only one to survive a personal attack of that scale.
Riley had thrown everything he had to save Price. There were tricks he had up his sleeves, some that not even Price had known, that he used to get the Captain back when even he thought he was done for.
All they knew was that Simon Riley had been killed that night in place of John Price.
Those parts of the stories were left untold.
It wasn't a sensitive subject, but Price had a tendency to shatter the glass he was holding if someone asked one too many times.
It had been ten years since Riley's disappearance. His name was inscribed on the village memorial in the square, a remembrance statue to all the greatest warriors in the village's history.
It was a particularly late night when Price had let Gaz go early, as the dragon tournament was coming up, and he wanted the man to get some rest. That's how both Gaz and Soap were out by the bluffs overlooking the ocean. It was hidden through a mile of brush and trees, but tonight was one of the first clear nights since the winter, and they were excited to see the stars.
It wasn't until stars had started blinking out, half the sky was black, that they realized something was wrong.
"Dragons...." Gaz breathed suddenly, as mouths began to light up, hundreds of feet in the air above them. "It's dragons!"
Gaz pulled Soap to his feet and they began running like their lives depended on it, which in this case, it did.
Their lungs were already sore, their voices hoarse as they shouted to a few men on the outskirts.
"Swarm! Swarm!"
Vikings readied their weapons, and minutes later, the beasts shot overhead. Flashes of red, blue, greens, and yellow, silver glinting unnaturally in the moonlight.
There had been rumors about dragon riders. Those who had tamed the beasts, or maybe found a common ground with them.
There was nothing more dangerous than a man-tamed dragon.
"It's Kingfish!" Someone down the hill had shouted, and Gaz's blood ran cold.
There were whispers about a man they called Kingfish, one who hid in the shadows with armies of the scaled monsters, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting villages and pillage them for himself. No one knew his real name, where he came from, or where the nest was. But everyone knew that once Kingfish set his sights on a village, they were as good as dead.
They saw Price leave his house, half armored, but a fire in his eyes as he heaved his Warhammer behind him, disappearing behind the body of a massive dragon that was scaling the watchtower down by the water.
"Soap! C'mon!" Kyle shouted, dragging his friend down the hill. The Blacksmith paused at his shop window, pulling a few weapons away from the sill and into his arms. They kept running. Soap passed an axe to Gaz, and they ran first to a house that was lit aflame. A few people were tossing buckets of water, while a woman pulled arrows at a Whispering Death.
Farther away, they heard the crunch and splintering of wood, and Gaz looked over in horror to see the watchtower fall, both the dragon and Price going with it.
"No!" He had screamed, all but dropping his axe as he started running like mad down towards the docks. "Captain!"
"Gaz!" Soap was shouting behind him as a trebuchet fired, throwing a large stone at some dragon above him. "Gaz, look out!"
Large, leathery wings kicked up a storm of dust around him as he was tackled to the ground, rocks digging into his knees and elbows as he fought to get the beast's claws out of his shoulders. It pressed his face into the dirt as he struggled to fight against it. It cut through his shirt, digging straight into his skin. He cried out, fighting against it, but his movement was impaired, he wasn't able to swing his axe around to-
The dragon opened its mouth and screamed, the shriek going directly to his ear drums, and springing the worst headache he'd ever had, his head felt like it was going to explode, he couldn't feel his shoulders. Gaz squeezed his eyes shut, praying to Odin to make it stop, make it-
A dagger sunk directly in between two of its center scales, shocking the dragon into dropping him as it turned on its next enemy. Someone was shouting, but Gaz couldn't get his eyes to focus enough on the figure.
They were waving wildly at the dragon, now weaponless, and shouting for its attention. The dragon cocked its head to the side and stepped over Gaz, who was struggling to stand to his feel, his whole equilibrium thrown off from the noise.
And he glimpsed the the mohawk just behind the scales as the dragon lunged forward, grasping Soap in his claws and shooting off into the air.
"No!! Soap!!" Gaz shouted, chasing after the dragon as it flew. He could just see the outline of Soap, struggling, screaming as the claws pierced his leather armor, sinking into his chest. He was too high, and there was nothing Gaz could do, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try. He shoved past people, ran through fights, passing the dark clad enemies of Kingfish's men, all while shouting for his friend, never once taking his eyes off the Whispering Death that was slowly growing smaller and smaller in the night sky.
An arrow pierced his shoulder and he cried out, stumbling, but he kept going forward, ducking behind a house. "Soap! Soap!"
A fireball exploded the wall next to him and he hit the wall hard, his consciousness leaving him before he even realized what had happened.
Soap was helpless as he squirmed, gasps being torn from his chest with the leather apron that fell away into the ocean below. He was gonna die, this was it. He couldn't see the island anymore, but he wasn't giving up. And yet this wyrm of a Whisper wouldn't let up, only shrieked until the pounding behind his eyes made him too lightheaded...
He wasn't sure what was happening when he woke up from a faint, but he sure as he'll knew he shouldn't be plummeting to death, rocketing towards the sea below him in a free fall. "Och! Shi-i-i-ite!" He flung himself onto his stomach, spreading his arms and legs apart to catch the air. His braid had come loose, whistling around his ears as the moonlit waves approached him too quickly.
Something else snatched him up like he was free prey and he shouted out again, the wounds on his chest screaming from the strain. His hands scrabbled at the beast's nails that wrapped around both his shoulders, carrying him like he was precious cargo. This was a different dragon, unfortunately for him. It was red, from what he could see, with long claws and a pale underbelly. There were antennae like appendages that dropped off the sides of its head, fading from red to orange to yellow towards the end, like leaves in autumn. But what jarred him the most was the straps of a saddle that tucked underneath its belly, and wrapped up the sides. There were a few ropes attached to the tail and- oh fuck he was falling again.
"No no no no-!" He shouted, flailing in the free air, before he hit something hard beneath him. But he wasnt.... dead...? No, he was sitting-
He was sitting on a dragon.
There was a man who sat in front of him, blond hair peaking out of his hood and helmet. Most of the helmet covered his face, save for the dark brown eyes glaring at him from behind it. In the darkness, the moon light shone off of the raised texture of pale skin that Soap could see, before smoothing off. He'd seen scars like those around the village, but only rarely. People like him never usually survived dragon's fire.
This person wasn't wearing black like Kingfish's men were. Instead, he was wrapped in a camouflage of browns, greens and furs, similarly to the dragon. He was tense, his shoulders bunched up as he glared at Soap, radiating a dark, or in other words, mysteriously powerful energy.
It occurred to him, then, that he wasn't staring at just a dragon rider.
And it occurred to him, then, that they had been wrong.
This.... this was Lieutenant Simon Riley.
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queermentaldisaster · 3 months
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Random HTTYD!au information (INFODUMPING!!!!)
So, because Skrills eat electric eels, and DeathSongs literally couldn't care less about them, DeathSong!Soap often brings back electric eels for Skrill!Ghost.
Laurel and Misty have a special way of communicating, and that is tail gestures. For example, when Laurel flicks his tail frill four times, that means he wants cuddles.
Rider!Roach has special signs. For example, a ‘y’ sign, using his thumb and pinkie, when he flaps it, means fly.
Rider!Gaz will often go out and sunbathe with Laurel (it's an excuse for both of them to nap for a while on stressful days too)
Misty, Laurel, Smokey, and Tater all know how to write and read Viking (English)
Rider!Price will randomly get bursts of energy and destroy all the training dummies. Roach scolds the shit out of him.
Death Song!Soap has the world's BEST puppy dog eyes. And yes, he abuses this power to get Ghost to do whatever he wants. :3
Tater is an enigma. Even to his own rider. No one knows where he came from, why he looks the way he does, he just kinda...showed up one day with a mouth full of potatoes and never really left?
Laurel has been with Gaz since he was small. They're both 25. Gaz doesn't even remember why Laurel is called Laurel.
Misty stumbled out of the mist one day, after she got into a fight with other dragons. It's where she lost her left tail. She collapsed in front of Roach, who took her in, treated her wounds, and made sure she was safe.
Smokey got his name for two reasons. One, he was constantly chasing after smoke when he was little. (Still does, it's a whole ass problem.) Two, you cannot look at that behemoth and tell me he doesn't like muscular smoke.
And yeah, that's it! :3
(Taglist: @im-here-and-im-confused @the-starry-raven @thegreyjoyed @forestshadow-wolf @myriadblvck)
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canthavetoomuchchaos · 7 months
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Viking
Simon Riley x sniper! Reader
Call sign: Viking. VI for short.
Specialty: sniping and stealth.
Viking wears Norse war paint, any type of your choosing.
A new recruit is added to the 141, they have been specifically chosen for the task force by Captain Price. What happens when Ghost can't seem to read this new member?
The day I arrive on base is slightly overwhelming, the base is about the same as my old one, but seeing as I've been chosen for the special task force 141, it's a little intimidating.
I hop out of the helicopter, my duffel slung over my shoulder and it's now that I'm glad I decided to wear my paint. A man wearing a skull painted balaclava stands a few feet away from the heli. I see who I assume is Captain Price, based on his facial hair and infamous hat. Next to him stands a man with a mowhawk, I've been told this guy is called Soap. I walk towards the group, my face still like a stone in a neutral expression, my eyes scanning the area before approaching any further.
"Viking, glad you could make it. As I'm sure you know, I'm Captain John Price, just call me Price. This here is ghost," he gestures towards the man with the balaclava, he gives no response. "And this is Soap." He gestures to the man with a mowhawk. So I was right then. Soap gives a nod, I give one in return.
"glad I could make it sir. Do I need to do anything before I find my way to the barracks?" I say, my tone flat and waiting for a response. Ghost huffs and turns around walking away, I ignore it. Price and Soap shrug, allowing him to walk away and Price answers my question.
"No, no tasks need done for the moment, Soap here will show you to the barracks. There's a briefing in 0200, don't be late." He says, then walks off in the same direction Ghost had gone.
"Well, seems you're comin' with me to the barracks then. This way." Soap says with a nod. I follow after him and watch as he fidgets with some loose wires.
"you're the demolition specialist." I say, though it was meant to sound like a question, it came out as a statement. He huffs a small chuckle and nods
"that would be me yes, the wires give it away?"
I nod, adjusting my duffel on my shoulder so it's not digging into my neck as much. We finally reach the barracks and soap shows me which cot will be mine and where my locker will be in the bathroom. I place my duffel next to my cot and nod to Soap. He looks at the time on his watch.
"you've got about 30 minutes before the briefing. See you there Viking!" Soap then leaves and I'm alone in the barracks. I look around slightly and start placing my things in their places. I adjust my shirt and make shirt the black holster on my thigh is still attached, tightening it slightly and placing my pistol in it. I check just above it for my knives and find all 3 are still secured. I then leave the barracks and make my way to the main building, Price meets me at the door and walks me to a training room if sorts.
"this briefing will be a smidge different. You'll be showing your skills to your new teammates in the dark." He says, a slightly smug expression on his face. The others in the room, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz I assume, all stare at him, clearly not having been informed until now.
I turn to Price and nod, walking to one corner as they all watch, Price counts down from 5, turning the lights off at 3. The hunt begins. I blink twice whilst my eyes adjust, remembering where the equipment in the room is as I feel the vibrations of someone approaching from my left, I jump and kick the air near me, landing a kick to someone's jaw. I'll feel bad later, right now, I need to survive this drill. The more I stay in place the easier they can find me, I calm my breathing to be silent as I silently run towards the last place I saw ghost, I see the shadow of his hulking figure and approach it slowly, carefully jumping onto his back and covering his mouth through the mask, his hands come up to grab me and I take my opportunity to swing around his waist, using my grip on his head and his weight to my advantage, flipping him onto his back, tapping him twice as a silent drill kill.
Price suddenly turns the light back on and I'm blinded for a moment, soap runs at me, blood running from his nose, and he swings a nasty right hook into my jaw, I recoil and quickly recover, dropping down and swinging my leg underneath him, effectively taking him down, I tap him twice like I did Ghost and he stays down, knowing the taps. Price is behind me putting me into a tight headlock before I can think. My eyes widen and I quickly throw an elbow to his ribs, lifting my arms to his face and plunging my thumbs into his eyes, pushing enough to hurt but not to injure. He yells and releases me, a hand over his eyes as he backs away.
I turn and Gaz is running at me, a fake knife pulled as I fight him off, keeping the hand weilding the knife away from my body. I finally tripped him and he goes down, I tap his chest two times and stand up, still silently moving as I return next to the door.
Price stands up and a small smile is on his face at my empty expression.
"you live up to your reputation. I was expecting as much but you can never be too sure. Good work soldier. " the other men stand up and I accidentally make direct eye contact with Ghost. He holds it and I refuse to look away, not allowing his dead looking eyes to deter my confidence in my skills. He blinks after a minute and walks out the door, a quiet grunt coming out of his mouth as Soap explains to him how I kicked him before he even knew he had found me.
This is going to be one interesting task force.
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lowsodiumscifi · 1 year
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Call of Duty headcanons - 141's favorite metal bands/metal genres
This headcanon was personal for me, so I didn't rush this one.
This is pure fluff!
Includes Phillip Graves
Comment what headcanons you guys wanna see, because I'm running out of ideas fast lol. It can be anything, any pairing, any headcanon, any character. You ask, I'll do it.
Enjoy my self indulging headcanons about heavy metal.
John "Soap" MacTavish - Hair/thrash metal
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If you ever asked Soap what his favorite kind of rock music was, he would say "party rock by lmfao" He's an airhead, be patient with him lol
In all seriousness, hair/thrash metal is more his style.
If you couldn't tell by the way Soap takes care of his mohawk, homeboy loves the crazy hairstyles. Goes feral over it.
Soap wears tight jeans that extenuate his thighs all the time on missions, so he loves to just dress in the tightest of pants and pretend to be in an 80s music video.
Leather, animal print, spandex, even studded or spiky chaps. You name it, Soap will do it.
Will definitely put on some sensual 80s metal song during sex. Kingdom comes's "what Love Can Be" Sounds about right.
Soap once brought the 141 to a Pantera concert, and ended up brawling some punks in the moshpit for bullying Gaz.
They ended up getting kicked out by security and Ghost ended up dragging his sorry ass through the parking lot.
Price was definitely a disappointed dad that night. Mostly disappointed at himself for letting his children get too rowdy on his watch... and joining in on the brawl.
Simon "Ghost" Riley - Melodic/doom metal
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When the cold weather begins to come around later in the year, and bands like Katatonia, Opeth and Swallow the Sun put out more music, Ghost is always there.
Ghost is from Britain, so he appreciates any music that comes from Europe.
There are two types of moshpits when it comes to melodic/doom metal - The ones with viking chanting and feral animal noises - and the ones with the tear jerkers, the ones that go just to feel things.
Ghost once took a trip to Sweden with Soap for work, catching a Katatonia concert while there.
By the time the fith or sixth song starts playing, Soap is baffled and emotionally drained by how heavy Katatonia's riffs and lyrics are.
Standing in a sea of swaying, rowdy and possibly drunk crowd of thousands of Swedes, Ghost takes the opportunity to hold Soap's hand.
In Ghost's defense, it's an outdoor event, and it's so cold outside, hell could've froze over. Soap knows the real reason, though.
By the end of the night, everyone is headbanging and swaying.
They both plan to go again next year.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - Alt/nu/rap metal
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Gaz is that "I listen to everything" kind of friend.
Is definitely open to new groups, genres and sounds.
Leans more into the early 2000s rock/metal a little more.
Gaz is more "cultured" like the younger generation is, and loves the memes that came with the generation too.
Some of the rookies will catch Gaz singing along to a Rammstein song, and fail... miserably. His German sucks.
Soap and Gaz got so drunk one night that both men started belting "bring me to life" by Evanescence every time Ghost would walk into a room, and laughed so hard they almost threw up.
Some 90s rap metal is cheesy, but Gaz tolerates it. Since he mostly grew up with hip hop, Gaz feels obligated to like some rap metal.
Loves any kind of metal song with movie references or influences.
Gaz doesn't go to a lot of concerts, no matter how much of an extrovert he is. It's just not his thing, especially when it comes to heavy metal.
HUGE fan of Linkin Park.
Gaz definitely cried after Chester Bennington's death. Has a whole Playlist dedicated to the singer. 💙
John Price - Alt/classic/grunge metal
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Price is a man who loves the classics.
Just because something is "classic", doesn't necessarily mean it's "old".
Yes, Price is older than all of them (probably), and grew up with a lot of 70s and 80s music, but surprisingly, Price loves bands who are with the modern times.
The cure, Deftones, Bush, Red Hot Chili Peppers, REM. You name it.
Tried to get into punk metal once, definitely wasn't for him.
Like Gaz, he's the "I listen to everything" friend.
Price goes into bars once in a while while off duty, with the boys and Laswell and will hear a Soundgarden song playing. He likes it. A lot.
Cigars, whiskey, company of friends and some metal is what makes his nights better. It lifts his spirits tremendously.
Definitely doesn't go to concerts anymore. Will flat out say no if you asked, end of conversation.
Why go to concerts when you can watch them at home on YouTube? Lol
Will cook breakfast to the sound of Alice in Chains playing in the background.
Phillip Graves - Metalcore/post-hardcore
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Like the all American he is, Graves likes to fucking party. The best kind of parties? Metalcore concerts.
Graves' journey through his metal listening experience started tame enough. It soon turned into being fascinated with groups like Lorna Shore, the Dillinger Escape Plan and Atreyu.
Tried to once attempt a fry scream. Ended up blowing his vocal cords out.
He'll put Lorna Shore full blast on his headphones and let Will Ramos' voice numb his brain until his head is buzzing and his ears are ringing.
Likes to test people's ability to point out vocals. "Is this an animal? Or a human being making this sound?" LOL
Will throw shit with every breakdown in a song.
Comes up behind someone and will yell a "BLEGH!" just to scare the shit out of you. Lol
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