#But I figured I'd save it for a stream ;)))

[shima-draws]

Hello dear friends and followers just wanted to mention that I will be streaming the Phineas and Ferb movie (Across the 2nd Dimension) tomorrow!! If we finish and feel like watching more I’ll probably put on Summer Belongs to You after ;)

Not sure what time yet but I’m aiming for around 6-7 MST. I will reblog with a more official time tomorrow!

Hope to see you there!

[dashiellqvverty]

i have a headache and can NOT think clearly enough to really gather my thoughts but as much as i really did like atsv there were just. things about it that didnt work for me. and like mostly i was not big on how they did the “canon events” stuff like im not AGAINST it just at points felt like sort of redoing the moment in itsv where after aaron dies the other spiderpeople are able to comfort and relate to miles because they’ve been through similar things and this is like... that but in a technical lore way and not hitting the same emotional beat?? like obvioulsy they’re taking it somewhere different and its about like defying the story that’s laid out for you and i LIKE that but. idk. and im like yeah obviously theres stuff thats part of the spiderman origin story we KNOW this we did it already in the last movie and it was a great scene. and also like theres no way everything they referenced is 100% true for every version of spiderman, even every single one that cameos in the movie?? idk. it just Frustrated me in a way that i truly cannot put my finger on

[dokjaism]

.

[laddertek]

@countthelions (tumblr ate this when I tried to save my answer as a draft, so we improvise 🙃)

This one? :D

This whole stream was delightful. What a way to return 🤗

Tango was so happy energetic.

And from Tango calling Etho's storage system cute and Etho in gamechat going "CUTE?!" (00:41:07). To the razzing (and laughing) over shops (00:49:00 and 01:03:49). Etho taking Tango's head twice, and it all being so playful (00:58:11). Etho using Tango's catchphrases 🥹🥹🥹 It gets me every time! "porkchop power" "flee with extra flee!" And the way he said it was the cutest, and Tango's giggle about it too (01:00:59). Etho offering to give the tour Tango wanted. More mail talk and laughing guilt and planning and razzing and teaching Etho to do the stamps. Tango complimenting the path (and that Etho showed it to him when he first came back when Etho came to say hi) (01:15:41). They still plan on doing their sand-collection-off (01:35:06).

And of course the whole TNTificating with Etho's new "boom boom tech" (01:39:43--02:15:17) was just…the most fun. They are having the most fun together...it's an absolute joy. (And it's also them collaborating on how to figure out a redstone thing together which is just so satisfying.) Just...TOO MANY (!!!) (so many) fun moments in that whole TNT section that I can't even start on highlighting them all 😭 I'd need another mammoth paragraph...

Honestly??? Still smiling. Great great great stream 🥹

Timestamps are for YouTube not Twitch because Tango was so fast on getting the VOD up lmao

[beckyninja]

Revelation

Pairing: Lt. Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warnings: descriptions of torture

Description: Our favorite Ultramarine Captain Lieutenant realizes his personal serf means far more to him than he thought. And all it took was his subconscious concocting a truly horrific scenario.

Alright guys, you seemed to like my fluff. Now I thought I'd try my hand at some angst. As always, please forgive any non-canonical details. And thanks to @solspina who's Dante dream fic heavily inspired this.

Pain.

Demetrian Titus knew this feeling. In his long life as an Astartes, he’d experienced more kinds of pain than most Imperial citizens dreamed of in their worst nightmares. Stab wounds, shattered bones, burns, bites. He’d endured them all, healed, and moved on.

Not this time, though. This pain… lingered. It welled and pulsed within his very nerves, bypassing all attempts by his enhanced body to neutralize it. It stemmed from the chains bolted to his wrists and ankles, from the hundreds of injection sites scattered across his skin.

And from the mind of one Inquisitor.

“Ah, awake again, I see.”

The deceptively calm voice echoed inside his skull. A face came into view, seeming to float in the endless void.

It smiled.

Once, he would have lunged at that smug face. He would have strained against the shackles that bound him, warrior’s instincts screaming at him. Fight back! Kill!

No longer. That time had passed. Days? Months? Years ago, perhaps. Now he simply stared. He would not speak. He could not give the answers this madman desired, and he would not dishonor himself by lying. 

His silence was the only resistance he could give.

Normally, this infuriated his tormentor. He would rant and rail, promising new and varied forms of agony. 

“There is heresy within you, traitor. And I will dig it out, if I have to do so from your broken corpse!”

The Inquisitor often promised death, either as punishment… or reward. At times, Titus welcomed the idea. Then thoughts of the shame such a ignoble death would bring his Chapter filled him and he silently vowed to live another day. 

Eternal service. The vow of an Astartes. The vow of an Ultramarine. It did not matter the circumstances. He would endure. He would-

“I have something new planned for you this time, Titus.”

A sickly light illuminated his surroundings. It slowly revealed a figure crouched at the Inquisitor’s feet. After years of silence, a word fell from Titus’s torn lips.

“No…”

You. It was you. How? Titus’s mind whirled, trying to piece together a timeline that suddenly made no sense. You couldn’t be here. He hadn’t even met you yet! A deception. It had to be.

Then the Inquisitor reached down and yanked your head back. The hood of your serf’s robe fell and Titus looked into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked at him with hope and adoration. Now full of terror.

He jerked against his bonds without thinking, trying to reach you, trying to shield you from what was to come.

The Inquisitor laughed. “Such a reaction! And here I thought Astartes were above such mortal frailties as affection,” his hand left your head and strayed lower, “and desire.”

You yelped as that hand groped your flesh. Blind fury filled Titus and he lunged once again. 

“Do not touch her!”

“Or you will do what, exactly?” The Inquisitor gripped your chin and forced it up. “Look at him, girl. Look at your hero.” Another cruel laugh. “So strong and noble. And now all he can do is watch as I do this… and this…”

Your cries brought a pain greater than all the Inquisition’s tortures combined. Your eyes fixed on him, begging him to save you. He thrashed against his chains harder than ever before.

They only grew tighter.

The Inquisitor’s laughter rose to a shriek. “You swore to protect her, Titus! You swore to never let her come to harm again!”

He drew back his hand and struck you across the face. Again. And again. Titus watched welts and bruises bloom across your skin. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed. 

“This is your fault, Titus.” The Inquisitor grinned.

My fault. 

He had taken you for his own. Your companionship, in a galaxy that had abandoned him, soothed the ache in his soul. 

Now you suffered the consequences of his selfishness. 

For the first time in his life, the proud Ultramarine begged. “Stop, please!”

The Inquisitor threw you to the ground and brought his booted foot down on your arm with a sickening crack! You screamed.

Titus felt something break within him as well. “I WILL CONFESS!”

Silence. Darkness. He found himself alone in the void. He could no longer see you or the Inquisitor. For an eternity he hung there, waiting for something… anything.

Then, a voice whispered in his ear. “She means so much to you, doesn’t she?”

The sound of a blade splitting flesh. The overwhelming scent of blood. 

***

Titus’s eyes snapped open. All three of his lungs expanded as he gasped for breath. He lay on his cot, in his quarters, surrounded by the soft glow of candles. The omnipresent hum of the ship buzzed in his ears. 

His torment at the hands of the Inquisitor had ended over a century ago. You were not there. You had never been there. 

Why, then, did he still smell your blood?

At that moment, a soft beep came from the door as it slid open. You stepped inside, a bucket of cleaning supplies perched upon your hip. You glanced at him with a smile.

The scent of blood grew stronger.

In the blink of an eye he knelt before you, hands grasping your shoulders. “Where are you wounded?” 

“My Lord?” You gasped, the cleaning supplies clattering to the floor.

He noticed the reddish marks on your sleeves and growled, low and predatory. “Who hurt you?”

He’d find them and tear them limb from limb.

“No one, my Lord. I am not hurt.”

“Do not lie to me!”

You flinched. He winced, removing his hands.

“I am not injured.” You repeated. “The medicae are short-staffed at the moment and I offered to assist with the wounded in the infirmary. I know I should have asked your permission, but I didn’t think you’d disapprove. I’m sorry, my Lord.”

“I… I do not disapprove.” Titus closed his eyes and tried to regulate the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “There is no need for you to apologize.”

You were silent for a moment.

“You had another nightmare.”

“Yes.”

“It involved… me?”

“Yes. You were… injured. I could not… I tried to…”

Emotions ran riot through him. Some he could name: anger, guilt. Others were entirely foreign. He felt unmoored, severed from the comforting order of practical and theoretical.

“Perhaps I am indeed corrupted in some way.” He muttered, almost to himself. “Perhaps I deserve to suffer.”

“No!”

Something soft pressed against his face. He opened his eyes to find your hands cupping his cheeks. 

“Forgive me, but I hate it when you say such things.” Your beautiful eyes burned with conviction. “You saved me when no one else would. You are honorable and courageous and deserving of whatever happiness can be found in this life. You, Demetrian Titus, are a good man.” You hesitated then, your voice dropped to a whisper only an Astartes’ ears could have heard. “Emperor forgive me, I love you for it.”

Your words. Your touch. The strange emotions stirred up by his subconscious. All these things ignited in his mind… and Lieutenant Demetrian Titus of the Ultramarines experienced a revelation.

He covered your mouth with his own.

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @lemon-russ @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith

I hope I tagged everyone who asked!

[cherrifire]

Cherrifire I plead I beg please make a VODs channel. I wanted to rewatch the Gartic Phone stream, but when I looked for it the other day the stream was just—gone. All I could find was a clip on Twitch and clips on TikTok.

(I’ve just recently joined Twitch and had no idea it deletes streams. I would have saved the stream if I knew.)

IM SO SORRYY I honestly wanted to rewatch it too. I've been thinking about making a vods channel but I just never have a good judgement on what vods to keep and what to toss. I'm sure I'd figure it out one day but I just don't have the time to figure it out right now, sorry :(

[zodoods]

okay part two im not linking part one bc this is unserious jklhsadflk

💗 knittingfairy Follow

save me adrien agreste...save me...save me adrien agreste

📷 ladyblogger Follow

@adrienagresteofficial

🎧 djnino Follow

@adrienagresteofficial

🎸 guitarhero Follow

@adrienagresteofficial

💗 knittingfairy Follow

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU

2,565 notes

🦊 vixen Follow

met ladybug today and she told me my hair looked cute omg!!!

🐞 ladybug Follow

L + ratio + your hair looks like sausages

#and i didnt see you!!! bitch!!!!

270,565 notes

🐈‍⬛ catboy Follow

stay aloof and whimsical and silly guys or youll end up like my dad

🎧 djnino Follow

what happened to your dad

🐈‍⬛ catboy Follow

hes dead

970,565 notes

🤺 fencingryuko Follow

I went to cool and aloof island and no one knew you . or whatever

2,465 notes

🎵 kittysection Follow

hiii stream our music

1,477 notes

🤺 fencingryuko Follow

If I had a dollar for everytime someone tried to help Marinette get over her crush and then starting liking her, I'd have two dollars. This isn't a lot, but it's weird it's happened twice. Additionally, this would not do anything for me monetarily, as my savings balance is above 7 figures. However I thought it was worth mentioning.

700 notes

🐈‍⬛ catboy Follow

@ladybug do you want to kiss

🐞 ladybug Follow

no sorry had a scary dream about you...seemed really real

🐈‍⬛ catboy Follow

#at least she didnt say she didn't want to kiss me bc she doesnt like me!!!

123, 477 notes

📷 ladyblogger Follow

someone NEEDS to get audrey and chloe bourgeoise OFF tiktok

#i didnt think they could be more annoying but here we are

12,345 notes

okay here u go since u all begged for part two enjoy <3 <3

[starlight-and-snowflakes]

5 strategies that have improved my executive functioning in 2023

1. Preparing tasks in advance

This tip has been one of the most useful things for me to be able to actually get the things I want to do done without getting stuck in the process. I am very prone to difficulties with task initiation and task switching. Basically I've found that if I check what activities are upcoming for that day in my calendar (but you can use any task that you want to do sometime that day) then I set the task up in advance it's a lot easier to actually do the task.

So if my goal is to stream after dinner then I turn my pc on and have my setup ready to go before dinner. If I want to do a Pilates workout I set up my mat an hour before I actually want to do the workout. If I want to go to the gym I get into gym clothes at the start of the day so I don't have to change later.

I basically eliminate all the difficult prep work and then I find doing the task so much easier when I get to it.

2. Task switching when stuck

A lot of neurodivergent people have issues with getting 'stuck' or 'frozen', myself included. Whether it's autistic inertia or decision paralysis or something else it's very common to find yourself unable to do anything at all. You'll know that even if you put your phone away or stop what you're doing you'll just continue to sit there doing nothing.

The solution to this for me has consistently been to switch goal. I want to get up and shower but can't? I'll find that I can pull my laptop out and get some work done instead (and then shower after lunch later in the day). I am stuck when I want to stream? I find I can do my skincare instead (and I ended up streaming the next day).

Yes this means you don't get your original goal done when you wanted but you get something done, and something is better than nothing.

3. Task chaining

I've found that task chaining is the easiest way for me to get multiple tasks done. It's basically building upon your success. Take the example from my task switching section where I couldn't get myself to start streaming so I decided to do my skincare instead. While doing skincare I remembered I wanted to ask my brother about a particular product. So suddenly I'm capable of going to ask him about it. I couldn't even get out of bed before but now I have the motivation to move (I keep my skincare next to my bed so I didn't have to get up prior to this). After talking to him I decide I can go downstairs and make tea (something I originally wanted to do before streaming but was too stuck to do). While downstairs my mother tells me that she has a pile of laundry for me. I decide to take it back upstairs and put it away immediately. While doing so I figure I may as well sort all the laundry that's piled up on my floor as well.

I've gone from not doing anything to completing 4 separate tasks. If I wanted to get up and put the clothes on my floor away originally I'd never have been able to do it. I built on my successfully completed tasks and chained them together. Of course you should still remember to rest after chaining a number of tasks together.

4. Prioritise harder tasks earlier

I get all my energy at the start of the day and feel quite tired by the end of the day. This is how most people feel due to how our circadian rhythms function. Because of this I have found it's a lot easier to get difficult tasks done in the morning.

So now instead of trying to clean my room or go to the gym at 5pm I'll do it at 9am. I'll save 5pm for my easy tasks, things like studying Korean, meditating, studying geography, and coding. Take some time to figure out which tasks you find easy and which you find hard. If you consistently find yourself unable to do a task that's a hint that it's difficult for you. Vice versa if you're consistently capable of a task it might be a sign it's an easier one for you.

5. Using an AI scheduler

I saved this one for last, not because it's ineffective, it's actually made a huge difference in my life. But it does cost money to take full advantage of this so I put it down the bottom. Still there's a lot to be said for using an AI scheduler. I hate choosing what to do and have always preferred to be told what tasks I should do each day. It also takes a huge amount of mental energy to decide what tasks I should do when each week and organise them in advance.

Enter Reclaim, the AI scheduler of my dreams (there are lots of other ones on the market too like Motion! Take a look around and see if you can find one you like but unfortunately they all seem paid). Reclaim does have a free version but for me their paid version is necessary to achieve my goals.

I set up all my tasks and habits in Reclaim, I can customise how often I want to do things, how long they should take, and what hours I have free. Then I just check my calendar each day and see what tasks I'm meant to do. If I end up taking more time than expected I just hit the 'reschedule' button on a task and it's automatically slotted in somewhere else that week. This has definitely made one of the biggest changes to my quality of life I could probably make a whole separate post about using Reclaim.

That's all the tips that have worked for me this year so far, maybe some of them might help you!

[ghoulie-67-baby]

One too many mistakes- Criminal minds.

Summary: You’re a member of the BAU and have been captured by the unsub. You know they’ll save you but you have to be patient.

Prompts: You escape captivity and start running, only to run into your saviour.

Warnings: Blood, mentions of murder, kidnapping, language, crying, vomiting.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader.

Word count: 1,068.

"You're sick." I spat up at the unsub, my hands aching from being tied up. "Why do you do this?" I watched as his chapped lips curled into a sickening grin, revealing rotted teeth and the stench of blood on his breath.

"Maybe I am sick, maybe I'm the normal one." He shrugged, attacking a tube to the cannula in my arm. "Either way I enjoy it." My eyes widened at the horrifying chuckle that filled the room. Silence overcame us as he fiddled with his equipment. I knew what would happen soon enough. He would collect as much of my blood as he wanted, drink it, and repeat for a few days. When he wanted fresh blood he would dump my body just like with all the other women. Two nights had already passed and I knew my time was limited.

"Rest now sweet pet, ill be back soon." My body slid down the wall as I feigned exhaustion.

A few hours had passed since he left and I had been working hard to escape the ropes. I just about managed to fray the one around my ankles using a nail sticking through the floorboard. My hands shook in my lap, the locks on the door echoing through the room. With my head hanging, I faked sleep, holding back a grin when he left the door wide open.

'That's your first mistake asshole.' The thought made me shiver with anticipation but I waited patiently, knowing timing was imperative. Once he turned back around, I readied myself. His second mistake.

Scrambling to my feet, I yanked my arms from the cannulas and sprinted for the door, not giving him the chance to react.

Pains seared through my limbs as they screamed in protest. The ground was uneven and the lack of light from the dense foliage proved it more difficult to guide myself. Heavy boot falls sounded from behind me as he began the chase. Using tree trunks and bushes as cover, I hid myself and tried to figure out my direction.

"You bitch!" I could tell he was stalking closer, his voice getting louder. Taking an unsteady breath, I stumbled through the threes, trying to ignore the dizziness clouding my head. "You can't run forever!" He was right, especially with the state I was in, but I'd give it a damn good go if it meant a better chance of surviving.

"I can hear you," he sang into the darkness, his sickening grin flashing through my head. "I can smell you, almost taste you. All that fresh blood going to waste." My heart raced in my chest, cementing my fear that he could actually hear it.

Tears clouded my vision as I staggered through branches and rotting leaves. The tree roots seemed to latch onto my feet as I ran, making me trip and struggle for balance. With my captor's voice converging on me and my senses overtaken by panic and pain I didn't notice the figures ahead of me.

The howl of a dog broke me from my panicked stupor and I fell back, eyes wide and blurry as the animal barked at me.

"Y/N?" A figure called my name and I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my bound palms. They focused a little better, revealing the angry face of Hotch and the concern and relief of my team. My body flooded with relief as my knees shook, teeth chattering in the autumn air. "Hey, you're okay. Y/N walk to me."

I followed the voice, tears streaming down my face as I tried to stay on my feet. My face came into contact with a bulletproof vest but from the cologne, I could tell it was Hotch. Seconds passed before he pulled away from me, hands holding my elbows as his eyes inspected me for injuries. My bound wrists pressed against his chest as his eyes rested on the bleeding wounds on my arms.

"Tell me sweet pet," the yelling made my head snap up as Hotch untied the rope from my sore wrists. "How close am I? Close enough to taste you yet?" A shiver passed up my spine as I gripped my boss's sleeves, tears still falling as the team moved to shield me.

"He won't touch you again, we won't let him." I faced the direction of the voice, hands clutching Aaron's behind my back as the grimy man came into view.

"Tut tut sweet pet, thought we were exclusive?" Hotch's hands flinched slightly as I shook. Third mistake.

"You can't go anywhere now, man, put down the weapon." Morgan's voice was hard and tense as agents surrounded the unsub. "Put it down!". His eyes stayed locked on mine as he put his shotgun down, a sick smile on his face, and knelt amongst the autumn leaves.

The agents closed in quickly, Morgan snapped cuffs on him before hauling him to his feet. I motioned for him to bring him over.

"Why?" My voice shook no matter how hard I tried to keep it steady. "Why did you really do it?"

"I already told you pet," he leant closer, ignoring Morgan's pull. "Because I enjoy it." With a wave of demented laughter, he was dragged off, laughter mixing with Morgan's commands.

what little colour was in my face drained as I doubled over, hurling up the bile in my empty stomach.

"I've got you. JJ, alert the medics." My hair was gathered back as I heaved what little I could, retches shaking my body.

"M'sorry didn't mean to do that." I chuckled weakly, not even trying to make it sound real as I dragged myself upright. Aaron shook his head, wrapping his jacket around me before guiding me out of the forest, the flash of the ambulance calling my name.

"Don't apologise. I'm just sorry we weren't here sooner. He didn't do anything else did he?" He trailed off, not wanting to imagine what else that monster could do.

"No, he didn't do anything else, just the blood. I'll never look at a doctor the same way ever again." I sighed, sitting on the ambulance step, moving so he could sit with me. "You were here in time, that's all that matters."

Resting my heavy head on his shoulder, exhaustion stopped me from caring that he was my boss, let alone closed off. Instead, I chose to revel in his warmth.

[milkbobatyun]

for you, i'd do it all over again

pairing: illumi x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: you loved illumi, to the extent that you would destroy yourself, work yourself to the bone, with the silver of hope that he would look at you with love in his gaze, but does he ever?

word count: 904

a/n: finally wrote an illumi fic for you @nfekwefdskldm, some creds to you, (¬_¬") *big sigh from me* "miss skibidi rizzler @nfekwefdskldm" for giving me inspo for the last part (smw save me i was held at gun point to say this)

his nen was overpowering, stifling the breaths lingering in your chest. blood ran down your forehead, the scarlet liquid of life streaming from the shallow cuts all around your body.

illumi’s tall figure loomed over your crumpled body, his gaze cold and unfeeling.

“you’re weak.” his emotionless voice echoed around the chamber, the light catching and reflecting off of his golden shiny needles, peeking from his fingers.

“get up.” he ordered, voice sharp and unyielding, as though failure to comply was not an option.

your limbs felt like lead, weighing you down as your muscles screamed in protest. the love, no, the fear you had of him gnawed at your insides, threatening to crush your resolve.

despite the pain, you placed your shaking hands onto the ground, pushing against the cold stone floors of the training room. you were fighting to stay awake. after all, no ordinary person could fight for 36 hours straight, without sleep.

slowly and painfully, you forced yourself to your feet, fire smoldering behind your eyes, defiant and ready.

“good,” he murmured, face unchanging. this wasn’t praise. it was merely a comment, an expectation. it was a requirement that you finished this intensive training before you went onto your mission.

and so, you stood, shaky but upright, facing the twisted monster before you, the one that your heart held true to, knowing that he only saw you as a puppet on a string, not his lover.

the mission had been long and intense, you stalked your prey day and night, sleepless, driving by the hope of going home to illumi. you imagined him, waiting in the foyer of the mansion, despite the ungodly hour of night, impatiently hoping for you to get home, so he could wrap you in a warm, comforting hug.

the poison surged through your veins, a biting pain that kept you awake as you trudged up the mountainous path. you clung to the miniscule shard of hope, that he would be waiting for you. something, anything to make this suffering worthwhile. you had sacrificed many things to be with illumi. your friendships, your family, your self-esteem. all of it, now lost because of your selfish love for this man.

with aching arms, you pushed open the heavy gates, panting for breath. your vision was swimming and you felt nauseous, but you pushed on. home was only a few paces away.

a flash of white hair appeared from the corner of your eye. killua had come to greet you.

“you look terrible,” he commented, nose scrunched in disgust, though his eyes reflected pity. “honestly, i dont see what you see in my brother.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “you’re better off with someone else.”

you forced a wry smile. the heart, you thought bitterly, is a foolish thing.

with a resounding creak, you swung the weighted doors of the mansion open, eyes squinting in the dimly light hallway. shadows danced across the walls, the flames of the candles their dance partner. your vision swam, sweat pouring down your forehead, the floor spinning under your feet.

“you’re home.” illumi’s voice rang out from the shadows. “report on your mission.”

you felt his cold, calculating eyes scan over you. a pause filling the air. you waited for something more—a hint of concern, a tinge of worry in his tone.

“never mind,” he dismissed, voice devoid of emotion as always, though you could detect a faint hint of impatience. not a hint of worry or pity. “come find me when you have cleaned up.”

with a flick of his long ebony hair over his shoulders, illumi turned on his heel, footsteps echoing down the hallway as he departed, leaving you alone in the vast foyer.

heaving a sigh, you slumped onto the floor, clutching your stomach as you fought back the urge to throw up onto the carpet. the poison multiplied the pounding headache ten-fold, as you collapsed into yourself, but worse still was the ache in your heart—the slow, consuming burn of disappointment, sadness, rejection that not even sleep and rest could fix.

you could work yourself to the bone, bleed yourself dry, rip your heart out and present it to him on a silver platter, but nothing—nothing—could make him turn and look at you with a shred of love in his soulless eyes.

you used to find solace in the quiet moments with illumi, but now they suffocated you, tainted by the thought of him. he draws you like a moth to a flame, companionship morphing into ugly manipulation, eating away at your sanity.

you see his presence everywhere—the flickering lights, the air that thickens around you. each encounter tightens the noose around your neck, your laughter turning hollow, joy a distant memory.

days blur into nights, sleep slipping through your fingers like sand. and yet, you find yourself in his room, conversing with the devil who kept you awake, every revelation another thread unravelled, each response from illumi twisting your words, feeding on your vulnerabilities.

you’ve lost sight of who you are, now merely a dried out husk. the noose is tightening, choking you with illumi’s influence, whispering your name, sending chills down your back.

you find yourself losing, fading, in this dance of control, voluntarily following illumi as he manipulated you, trapped in a nightmare disguised as a dream, as illumi watched your life slip away, numbness enveloping you in its cold embrace.

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[yiling-laozu-is-loml]

Every time someone tries to validate Jiang Cheng's feelings about Wei Wuxian saving Lan Wangji, I want them to remember that saving Lan Zhan was akin to fulfilling a life debt YunmengJiang owed him.

He's the one who figured out about the exit route in the stream and Wei Wuxian was the distraction that allowed Jiang Cheng to find said route. If they hadn't, Xuanwu of Slaughter would most likely have feasted on a) most of them including JC, b) would've eaten JC first for daring to swim by. So being jealous and bitchy and petty and going 'should've let him die' shows you the depth of JC's character.

Because who you are as a person, the essence of your character shines through your actions in the middle of life and death situations, and we all know how JC acted...

If it were up to him, he'd be the only one to escape alive because of his selfish 'I am the most important' personality. If Lan Zhan hadn't done that, JC wouldn't have lived to mourn his parents, rebuild YunmengJiang or even raise Jin Ling. So really, he owes a shit load to Lan Zhan.

And if anyone tries to tell me he came back and saved Lan Zhan too, don't bother. Life debts are instigated by the one who saves a person first, so really, paying it back doesn't mean he's a good person. He isn't, he couldnt be selective since he didnt come back to help alone. And really, which honourable cultivator would leave a renowned clan heir to rot after he helped their own heir to escape? So I'd give credit where it's due and say the help he brought ultimately decided to help Lan Zhan. Not JC, never JC.

[j-jared]

hello!!! i just stumbled across your resurgence au (i think that's the name lol) and it looks super cool!!!! :OOO may i ask what is maki's whole deal,,,i love her a lot :3

It's Maki time!

So in Resurgence, like the rest of the V3 cast, Maki is saved from the simulation by Future Foundation. I've touched on this in a few older posts, but their recovery took place in a hastily thrown together field base/hospital in a city that's still pretty deep in despair. It was a matter of not being able to get transport in for everyone right away - they had a set date for the helicopters to come for them all.

By unfortunate coincidence (coincidence, huh) - the day the helicopters come, the hospital is bombed by a Despair mob. They weren't so happy with their show being cancelled by stupid teenagers (THH was streamed to the world, then despair audiences kinda gutted and reverse engineered the Neo World Program after the Remnants were restored to their og personalities, I'd say it's probably because of the brainwashed Future Foundation members that it got out to the world - so yeah "Danganronpa" is a "TV" show in that regard, but its not how the V3 ending explains it)

Maki was in a separate wing from most of the others when the bombs went off, and her escape route ended up on the side where the mob was gathered (a lot of the others got around the mob by going out other exits) - So Maki has to fight her way to safety, and unfortunately, she misses out on the helicopter evacuation.

Now, Maki can take care of herself. She might not be Ultimate Apocalypse Survivor, but she has the training to patch wounds, adapt to harsh conditions, and defend herself. So she's doing about as fine as one can in a city that's basically an active war zone.

Then Kaede shows up.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I chose Kaede, I really wanna explore that dynamic but haven't gotten around to it yet - I think their personalities would blend and butt against each other in a situation like this, it's like a hardcore setting for the killing game with no rules. Kaede was with Future Foundation as a field agent, but her squad got separated during an attack (they were probably looking for the missing V3 cast) - Funnily enough Kaito, Tenko, and Shuichi were on that squad so - yikes on missing them.

So now it's Maki and Kaede vs the world!

Until Kaede's radio starts unscrambling itself and picking up Future Foundation communications again - but they can't reply it seems. The signal seems to fade in and out each time they leave this district, maybe they should investigate, right?

... Oh hi Kokichi and Kiibo!

---

That's about as far as I've gotten in the general aspect of Maki's arc! I could go into detail about points up until now, but this post is already getting long on me. There will be bonding, there will be old scores to settle, there will be... forgiveness? Well, it's too early to say. I think the four of them are an interesting squad to shove into the apocalypse together, especially knowing the later game dynamics of Kokichi, Kiibo, and Maki, and me basically having to figure out Kaede and if the blank slate of her not being around for most of V3 is something that helps them all get along or complete ruins the dynamic at moments.

[snapscube]

i don't know if you said so on your recent Web of Shadows stream, but what are your thoughts on Insomniac's more casual style of web swinging vs. the more difficult, physics-based web swinging? I've been avoiding Spider-Man 2 footage, so I haven't seen any web swinging, but I'd love if they could incorporate some risk/reward aspect to make swinging more engaging.

i think there's been a big push from spider-man game fans to re-contextualize Insomniac's web swinging as underwhelming and too casual that's kinda unnecessary and does it a big disservice. THAT IS NOT TO SAY that there haven't always been people who don't prefer the very low skill floor and relatively low skill ceiling of those titles, and that's also not to say that it isn't a fair assessment when looking at swinging mechanics in a vacuum. something like Web of Shadows ABSOLUTELY has a lot more rewarding moments of web swinging because of its higher skill floor, and when you really get a feel for the mechanics you can pull off some crazy stuff that it feels like insomniac's take isn't even dreaming of.

HOWEVER, i reiterate, this is all totally true and not exactly in Insomniac's in favor when examined in a vacuum, but in reality these mechanics DON'T exist in a vacuum. they're very important yes, they're how you're gonna spend a majority of your time in game yes, so it's important that they have a baseline level of fun and satisfying enough risk/reward to sustain an entire playthrough, or maybe even multiple. but Insomniac's swinging mechanics are in service of a game that not only does MORE with its open world than many others previously, but also does pretty much everything else a LOT better. Insomniac's take feels a lot more like it's in service of creating a much more approachable Spider-Man sim, where you don't have to necessarily "figure out" the swinging mechanics as much as you might in WoS or in SM2 (PS2) because there's a lot of content they want you to be spending more of your time on, and they need you to feel like you are playing an extremely capable and seasoned version of Peter.

playing through even just the opening of Web of Shadows on stream this week really drove home how much the world just feels so empty in comparison. the swinging was admittedly more fun at times!! but that kinda ended up being the saving grace of an experience that otherwise is feeling very bare-bones. and ultimately, as much as i PERSONALLY like mechanics with a bit more physicality, and i don't necessarily think that needs to be at odds with a larger amount of other content, i think my point is that i don't necessarily consider the swinging a FLAW of the Insomniac games, just a representation of the design philosophy of this take. and the design philosophy happens to be one i really appreciate. they want you in there DOING stuff, sure swinging around idly is fun and it's a great way to get you from point A to point B in a more exhilarating fashion than a lot of games even come close to, but these games have a much wider target audience and i don't know how much the average person cares more about the physicality of swinging as much as they care about it being an easy way for them to..... *sigh* feel like spider-man while traversing a larger set of activities.

THAT BEING SAID.... the improvements so far in Spider-Man 2 look SO SO SO GOOD and they will come MUCH appreciated. It looks so much faster. I straight up might turn on fall damage for my playthrough, which IS a new option they added. it's gonna rule.

[callofdudes]

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…

“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.”

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.”

“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…

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.

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.

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.” 

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.

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.

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.”

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. ❤

[mysticmiav]

I wanna talk about Inej cuz GOD I love her so much. Her intro scene is one that I think goes not talked about enough which I think is a crime against humanity and I WILL be making my case your honour so buckle up.

This concerns scenes from SoC as well as CK, so be warned, a load of spoilers ahead.

So in that first chapter of SoC we are introduced to this absolute badass of a girl. She walks silently, steals secrets and defies gravity. The name they call her? The Wraith. How badass is that? God spared yall (and maybe even me but especially my parents) cuz if I was still doing gymnastics I would've broken my ankle trying to be a fraction of as cool as she is cuz fuck you Newton and fuck your gravity laws.

She is smart and quick witted; the whole scene at the exchange, Kaz counting on her to take care of the second guard, knowing she'll figure it out and manage, and her indeed making it on time.

But no, not only that. This deadly storm of a girl not only holds this guard at knifepoint, saving Kaz's ass from an embarrassing plan gone awry, being shot and possibly even death. She goes on and says, and I quote, "I like it when men beg, but this isn't the time for it."

????? Weird way of asking for my hand in marriage but all the same, yes.

We get to see that deadly, fear-worthy side of her, we see how she's an actual threat people take into account, cue the slippery edges so as to make her climbs harder (fools really, as if some grease and oil would stop her of all things)

But as if that wasn't enough, we also learn of the beliefs she holds dear and her kindness. The way she hesitates about leaving Big Bol alone after everyone else leaves, torn on saving him, getting him help or putting him out of his misery, and ends up sparing him a parting prayer.

She's someone who's been through unimaginably lot of shit, never seemed to catch a break, from being literally ripped away from her family, sent across the ocean and sold to the menagerie, a never ending stream of painful and shameful experiences in her life as an indenture there, and then trading that life for one of killing and stealing, and despite it all, despite all she's gone through and all she's seen, she holds dearly to her faith, to her memories and her hopes of better days, of a world free from this kind of pain. Arguably even more so because of her experiences.

She wonders if her Saints would forgive her if she took Van Eck's life not out of necessity, but out of revenge. Either way, she was willing to spend a lifetime of repenting and take that chance.

But even beyond that, she's faithful beyond belief. Jan-if I ever commit a hate crime it'd be against this miserable excuse of a man-van Eck, while not having actually broken her legs (although his only reason for stopping being Inej's words) it was evident he was willing to, he was going to, and he made it clear he still might on the next day if she doesn't talk by then.

Fast forward to the one and only "I would have come for you, and if I couldn't walk, I'd crawl to you," scene (am combusting as well I know).

I find it to be heavily implied which lengths Inej was willing to go before Jan managed to draw a word out of her; her asking Kaz if he would have come for her when she couldn't scale walls or steal secrets for him anymore implies, in my opinion, what she already saw as the outcome of her captivity at Van Eck's hands. She already was thinking of that future, not just because of that growing, nagging doubt of her role in Kaz's life (whether she really was only an investment or if he'd cared in any way more than that about her), but also because no matter what, she wouldn't have given her crew away like that. She already made up her mind; she'd give that icky bastard some locations that had nothing to do with this, and Jan could break every bone in her body but will find no words of hers helpful, and I just worry of and for that girl.

She made that six-story high climb up a burning chimney with a tight time span, she climbed silos that are twenty storys high with an even tighter window of time, she walked a wire on that height and would've walked many more had things gone according to plan (thanks, Dunyasha), she climbed up shipping containers with a knife stabbed at her side, more or less to ensure she did her best for the crew that was counting on her. She would rather end it herself than find herself captive in those enemy's hands, this playing both into her loyalty as well as her history with captivity and what it meant for her.

She is the Wraith, with a reputation that proceeds her, and she also knows how crucial her skills are, how much her crew depends on her, how many of the plans center on and are weaved around her abilities, but she is also fully aware of her limits, fully acknowledging of her betters (Dunyasha you scare me, genuinely). She is religious and holds her faith very dear, but has made peace with the lives she's taken and will continue to take.

Many people see her as Dirtyhand's Wraith and fear her for her association with him, for his uses of her and the things she does at his bidding, but she is scary in her own light and I don't think people should fuck with that.

When she came for Pekka that night, carved in knife right above his heart, promised him a second slash if he thinks of coming back to Ketterdam, she made the once-proclaimed king of the barrel remember pain and fear.

And as if that didn't shake the man enough, she also made sure to replace his son's lion stuffed doll with a fucking crow, so that he'd see it when he inevitably ran to check in on his kid amidst his blood and panic. She gave this man enough mental damage to warrant endless psychiatric help and a lifetime of cowering, fear and paranoia (totally warranted am 100% in support)

She wears her heart on her sleeve; not in the sense of being naive, but in the sense of not being scared of displaying her emotions and thoughts. Her sentiments aren't random, because she always made it clear she cares for the people around her, she will go out of her way to protect them at her own expense and she will nurture those friendships she's built. Her suli subverbs and beliefs don't come off as a surprise, not to anyone around her and not to us as readers because she proudly displays her faith.

Many times, it felt like people, even Kaz, saw her faith as her weakness, something to be exploited, her sentiments something to poke fun at and use to taunt her with, but it's what makes her stronger. It's these thoughts and feelings that keep her going and keep her fighting. It's these friendships and heartfelt moments that she pushes herself over the edge for, and it's that dream just out of reach that rekindles her spirits even brighter than ever, and there's something so beautiful and heartwarming in it and about her that I can honestly spend this new year dissecting and talking about because am insufferable with a rotting hyperfixation. Why are you still here? Jkjk thankyou for reading this brain vomit of thoughts see you in my next tedtalk maybe. Btw if it wasn't glaringly clear I love SoC and Inej lol

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 14 (A Terrible Loss)

Distracted by work and trips to the city to see Malcolm, Heather hadn’t had time to properly explore Brindleton Bay since her arrival. But rather than stress a possible move to San Myshuno - which she wouldn't have to make if Malcolm never asked her to marry him - she decided to explore her new home with her future sister-in-law, Cassandra Goth.

Who better to show her around Brindleton Bay than someone born and raised among the windy coastal beaches dotted with fishing boats?

Unfortunately, when she finally had a Saturday off, it was raining, so their plans to explore the beach fell through. Worse, when Heather, Tut and Boomer arrived for a backup feline playdate at the Goth mansion, she found their elder Siamese, Socks, in a state.

"She just started throwing up everywhere, but she ate this morning without any trouble," said Cass, cradling her pet with fear in her eyes. "I've never seen any of our cats this sick."

"We'll take her to the clinic. I'll work all night to figure out what's wrong if I have to," Heather vowed, trying to soothe her own fears as well as Cassandra's. "Socks is strong. She'll get through this."

Heather tried everything she could to save her, running test after test, taking x-rays, and running through half a tube of belly rub simulation gel. "I've never seen such a severe case of swamp mouth."

"Can you do anything?" Cassandra held her breath waiting for an answer. Heather's heart broke.

"I can make sure she's comfortable. But the infection's spread too deep."

Cassandra sobbed. "How did this happen? She was fine this morning!"

Heather tried to comfort her, but she was wracked with guilt over Socks' death. She'd been fortunate thus far not to lose any of her patients, but the first was Cass' family pet! She knew death could be part of the job, but that didn't make it easier.

"Can you bring me the rest of her food? Don't let your other cats have any of it. Here." She grabbed a few jars from one of her supply cupboards. "I can make fresher jars, but these should be good meal replacements for them for now."

"Is this homemade pet food?" Tiny kibbles chimed against the glass as Cassandra examined the gift.

"It comes in handy with hungry pets sometimes, but I'm not allowed to sell it."

Heather stayed up late for weeks running tests to try to figure out what happened. She suspected Socks’ diet – a steady stream of Landgraab Industries Pet Food for as many years as she’d been a patient at Brindleton Pawspital – but only after she compared other charts was she certain. Landgraab pet food wasn't meat and it wasn't organic. Heather had no idea what it was, but it had FDA approval! Knowing Landgraab Corp., they probably paid someone off to get it.

Heather was beside herself. Whatever it was, or whatever it wasn't, she was disgusted with herself and called her father in a panic. "I signed a contract to own a hospital that isn’t helping pets as well as it should. If I keep Landgraab pet food in the supply closet, I'm helping them. You always knew the food was bad for animals, but there's a contract and I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" she cried.

"It's alright, Buttercup, just slow down."

"I can't sell food that makes pets sick, Dad."

"What about your mother's cookbook? It has all those recipes for homestyle pet treats."

"I wish I had time to make enough to replace what I'd need at the clinic, but I work twelve hour days! And the contract says I have to use Landgraab supplies."

"They can't force you to buy their products."

"What do you mean? The contract says-"

Neal laughed. "I grew beet meat on a garden wall and now Nesbeets ready-made sandwiches are available in practically every cafe, restaurant, and vending machine in Simlandia. I never told you kids how hard it was to get Nesbeets on the shelves in the early days because of exclusivity agreements and other legal clauses. Real boring stuff! The point is, not every great lawyer works for the Landgraabs, and my distributors know a thing or two about that. Let me make some calls, but when I find you the right, eco-conscious supplier, you might have to pay a little more."

"I don't care. It'll be worth it. Thank you thank you thank you, Dad! I love you!"

Heather hung up with her father feeling grateful for her family, and it wasn't long before she was able to offer homestyle pet food and treats that gave partial proceeds to the local shelter. Neal's latest idea took off, promoted as the next great addition to the world of pre-packaged foods from the man who invented Nesbeets! He even branded the puck-shaped treats 'Buttercups.'

Owners were grateful because their animals loved it, and soon her order for Landgraab pet foods had dwindled to the point Petcare executives noticed.

They sent a strongly worded email she pretended she never received.

How would Heather's rebellion go over with the Landgraabs? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: You may be thinking 'Cats don't die at the vet in The Sims' and yes, that's true, unless a glitch causes the exam never to end and the cat never to heal (I've never played the vet owner career before and I did something, not sure what, that broke the examination cycle when the clinic wasn't open, and my only options were close without saving and try again, or be a vengeful Watcher and turn it into plot. And I hate closing without saving and replaying time. 😬