#Toothless has the most elegant eyes

[guess-i-do-art]

I love book Toothless. He’s so unhinged 😭

David Tennant’s delivery of the line “you can’t eat the cat, I like him!” was PERFECT

[adamwatchesmovies]

How to Train Your Dragon (2010)

It’s been over 10 years since the release of How to Train Your Dragon. Unfortunately, this means you can’t catch it the way it was meant to be seen - on the big screen and in 3D - but it still dazzles. This animated film has it all. A great story of friendship, stunning visuals, memorable character designs, an instantly memorable score, terrific voice acting and a great message. It doesn’t matter how old you are, it becomes an instant favorite.

Much to his father’s disappointment, teenaged Viking Hiccup (perfectly voiced by Jay Baruchel) is hardly the dragon killer his village needs him to be. When Hiccup knocks down a Night Fury - the most elusive and deadly of all dragon species - he finds that he cannot kill it, and instead befriends "Toothless".

We've seen stories about sons rebelling against their parents because they would rather dance ballet, sing, or do anything other than do what they're expected to do before. How to Train Your Dragon differentiates itself first and foremost with its visuals. No dragon we've ever seen looks like the ones in this film. Taking inspiration from the book of the same name by Cressida Cowell, the animators went to town on the creature designs, which range from the two-headed Hideous Zippleback - one head spews flammable gas, the other, sparks - to the bumblebee-like Gronckle. All of them are memorable, as are Hiccups classmates. You’re like the overenthusiastic Fishlegs (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), excitedly looking at these beasts and trying to figure out what makes them tick. I predict in about five to ten years, we’ll be seeing highly detailed and articulated action figures of the creatures in this film sold to adults who grew up with this franchise. That’s how iconic they are.

As you can deduce from the title, Hiccup and Toothless eventually form a close bond and our hero becomes the first dragon rider. The first scene in which they take flight together is pure movie magic. The emotions bubble up inside as if it’s you soaring through the air for the first time. Even on a flat screen, the way they zip alongside cliffs, through rocky formations and above the water is so exciting - particularly with the score by John Powell - it threatens to bring tears to your eyes. You recognize the emotional weight of this moment and the visuals are incredible.

The emotional power of Hiccup and Toothless' flight comes from the character work. Directors Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois have made the genius choice to give a lot of cat-lie attributes to Toothless. He’s effortlessly loveable but also a little wild - if you’ve ever owned a cat, you know what I mean. You’ve seen how Hiccup and his father are. It’s not that Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler) is a bad father, it’s that they just have nothing in common, whereas Hiccup and Toothless? they get along but they do so well. It breaks your heart knowing they’re from two worlds and that there’s no way this is going to work out. Training with Toothless means Hiccup becomes more knowledgeable about dragons than any other Viking. At his school, he’s acing every course, which breaks down the barrier between him and his father. It raises your spirits but creates a dark cloud on the horizon.

In the end, the screenplay by the directors (who co-wrote with Will Davies) finds a surprisingly elegant way to give the audience the happy ending they want and deliver a big action scene that brings together everything we’ve learned about dragons. It’s revealed that every dragon has been stealing food for the biggest dragon of all, a Godzilla-sized mega beast that will eat anything. The genius of this revelation is that it recontextualizes every dragon attack. If only this big bully were gone, then everyone could live harmoniously. In Independence Day: Resurgence, The Great Wall and similar films, this “Queen” that can be defeated to save the day feels artificial. Not here. In hindsight, it all makes sense.

It's one of the best cast animated pictures in recent memory. Christopher Mintz-Plasse as the big, but squeaky-voiced dragon nerd Fishlegs, America Ferrera as Astrid, Hiccup’s rival and possible romantic interest and the other Vikings are terrific. Even these secondary characters are memorable, making you eager to see more. Then we get to the ending, which is mature and somber. How to Train Your Dragon is much more than the sum of its big, action-packed sequences of aerial pyrotechnics, dizzying flying scenes and narrow getaways. It's packed with emotion, action, and fun. I can’t recommend How to Train Your Dragon enough. (On Blu-ray, April 15, 2022)

[dp-medio-muertos]

The Many Names of Death (in México)

(banner images by @andrei-skelepina)

Her most well-known name is “La Catrina”, an elegant, upper-class lady, wearing a hat full of feathers to represent the social inequality rampant in the early 1910s when José Guadalupe Posada drew her (“La Calavera Garbancera”, had been her real name at first [Source ESP / ENG]). But from then on, this identity became forever associated with Death. La Muerte.

She takes you whether you’re rich or poor, “good” or “evil”, it doesn’t matter. Whatever we built in life stays in the world of the living, as we take nothing to our graves. Hence why she’s “La Igualadora” or “La Democrática” because she evens any ridiculous score you thought you had in life.

How funny these names came from a more modern era when the Nahuas/Mexicas believed anyone who died a natural death could liberate their soul after several trials to the Lord and Lady of Death (Mictlantecuhtli & Mictecacíhuatl) to acquire a new form of existence in the underworld, in the Mictlán. (Source ESP / ENG)

But despite Death being amoral, uninterested in what we did in life, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy a good chase in later representations. She’s now shown as someone to run away from, to deceive, to escape. In the end, the game always ends the same. Her thin and bony appearance is seen often in poems (as we mentioned in our Calaveritas post here) dedicated to her cunning, soul-hunting skills. But don’t be fooled: “La Calaca Tilica y Flaca” (the frail, skinny skeleton) is anything but weak.

The hairless skull gave her the name of “La Pelona” or “La Calva” (the bald one), while others wrote odes to her lack of teeth, calling her “La Chimuela” or “La Sin Dientes” as names that reveal her toothless smile. Others steer away from her stench, foul and rotten. “La Apestosa” or “La Hedionda” (the smelly one) they’ll call her while giving her the stink eye.

And again these newer denominations don’t steer too far from older roots and sound similar to how the Mayans from Yucatán referred to Ah Puch as “The Stinky one”, one of the names of the lord of death and disease, ruler of Xibalbá (the underworld… yes, Xibalbá is a place, not a deity) [Source: ESP / ENG)

But now we don’t talk about trials and tribulations, though we do talk about Death in our everyday struggles. “La Chingada” or “La Fregada” (the ruined one) we say colloquially when we feel like it takes us to a darker place when things are not going our way. (“Me lleva la chingada”, “me siento de la fregada”, we exclaim even when something gone wrong won’t call for our real demise.) We even have sayings such as “no hay que cargar con el muerto” when we don’t want to carry an old burden.

To die can be to “petatearse” (lay to rest on a petate or resting mat), to “chupar faros” (take a smoke before being shot), we say someone “(lo/la/le) cargó el payaso” (was carried by the clown, as riders in the rodeo when they got hit by the bull); someone who dies, “estiró la pata” (stretched a rigid foot), “colgó los tenis” (hung their sneakers on the lightpost cables, as people do when someone dies in some neighborhoods), or “felpó” (to refer to torn clothing).

But death can be treated as something more respectful, with fancier names: “La Dama de la Guadaña” (the Lady of the Scythe), “Doña Huesos” (Mrs. Bones), “Doña Osamenta” (Mrs. Skull), while there’s some room to show affection: “La Amada Inmóvil” (the still lover), “La Malquerida” (the badly-loved one) or “La Niña Blanca” (the white little girl).

There’s plenty of respect and some even call her the Santa Muerte (Holy Death), adoring her like a saint, asking for favors, for protection, and honoring her in many ways, mainly in barrios like Tepito in which she even has shrines and temples dedicated to her. (Source ESP / ENG)

No matter what we call her, how we portray her in art or poetry, how our sayings or legends go, there’s this sense of familiarity with Death, as if she were someone we’ve always known and can invite for a drink or have a nice chat with, goof around, show your sorrows.

In the end, as we say “Al diablo la muerte mientras nos dure la vida.” (To hell with death while life lasts.)

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 13

Chapter 1     Chapter 12

“You ready for this?” Dick asked flashing a charming, boyish grin that Marinette imagined many people had trouble saying no to.  She was not one of those people.  If she could say no to Adrien’s most charming, sappy, kitten eyes trained on her and Tikki’s most wide eyed, imploring, big blue eyes begging for cookies after a ‘grueling’ day wrangling the other kwami, she could say no to Dick’s blue eyes.  It wasn’t even a contest.

However, she currently had no interest in saying no. She was actually really excited to swing on the trapeze with him… or alone, really at all.  A bright smile spread across her face as she took in their trapeze rig.  She’d never been on a trapeze, but she was hoping it would be like swinging on her yoyo. She and Adrien had put their superhero days behind them.  They still wore their miraculous and of course she still had her guardian duties, but they didn’t transform anymore, preferring to move on from the painful memories and impossible balance.  They loved being heroes but the strain it put on relationships, the lies, the responsibility… they never regretted their decision.  

Wonder Woman knew how to get in touch with them should their services ever be absolutely necessary, but short of that, they were out.  So this was the closest she was going to get to that feeling ever again, short of a world ending event, in which case, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anyway.

But this, she looked at the rigging again, this was going to be great.  She turned to Dick, her bright smile spreading even wider and her eyes gleaming. “Absolutely!”  She gripped her bag tighter then actually took in what Dick was wearing, tight tank top and bike shorts, and looked down at her own street clothes in realization.  “Well, I mean not right now.  I need to change,” she motioned to herself, “but as soon as I change I will be.”

Dick nodded and opened his mouth to say something but Bruce stepped in before he could say anything.  “Good to see you again, Marinette.”  He leaned in to do a la bise.  He mentally congratulated himself for their first not awkward greeting. It was definite progress.  “Let me show you where you can change.”

Marinette nodded and walked in the direction he indicated.  She looked back over her shoulder to smile at Dick, but he was already turned around and focusing on checking the rigging.  “How was New York?” Bruce asked, bringing her attention back to the two of them.

“New York was good.  It was a good meeting.  Mrs. Bourgeois wanted to speak with me personally about styling the shoot. I was originally scheduled to speak with an associate editor.  I can’t imagine what changed in the last three weeks or so,” she joked with a smile at M. Wayne.

Bruce sighed and gave a resigned nod.  “Yeah, once people find out, they can change the way they treat you.”

Marinette nodded, looking away in thought.  “It was so strange.  I’ve known her for years and all of a sudden she was trying to be nice.”  She shuddered slightly.  “That woman has never been nice a day in her life.  Honestly, one of the creepiest feelings I’ve ever had.”

Bruce grimaced at Marinette’s first brush with being treated differently.  “Sorry about that.  I should warn you… we should sit down sometime and discuss security and social changes.  People are going to do that now, want to get close to you because of your name.  Not that you aren’t worth knowing without it!” he rushed to assure her once he realize what he said.  “I just mean…”

“I understand,” Marinette cut him off kindly. “I have quite a few famous friends or friends with famous parents.  I’ve seen how people try to get close to them because of that.  I’ve even had people try to get close to me in order to get closer to them.”  She rolled her eyes at the memories of the desperate people trying to flatter her and just dropping in mention of Adrien or Jagged.

Bruce looked at her sympathetically.  “Sorry you had to deal with that.”

Marinette laughed at his apology.  She laughed loud enough for it to echo off the walls of the hallway.  The absurdity of thinking that was something to apologize for.  That those experiences even registered on her hurt scale.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  None of that was your fault.  They weren’t even bad.  It was something for us to laugh about.”

Bruce gave her a small smile.  “Hopefully it stays that way.”  He stopped walking and motioned to a room.  “This is your room.”

Marinette waited for the ‘while you’re here’ or ‘while you’re changing’, but they never came.  And there was something off with the way he said it, a gravity that didn’t belong there.  She looked between Bruce and the room a few times and pushed the door open.  Like the rest of the house, the room was luxurious. Only the finest furniture and decorations.  The room was filled with pink, silver, grey, and white.  Everything coordinated and elegant.  She was almost afraid to walk into the room lest she damage any of it.

She walked into the room timidly and tried to take in all the details.  She scanned the room and gasped, her body going rigid, as her eyes rested on a crib against the far wall.  She walked slowly toward the crib, almost like she was in a trance.  Her eyes ran over the crib.  There were still stuffed animals in it.  It was almost like it hadn’t been touched in decades and except for the lack of dust in the room, she would believe it.

“I couldn’t…” Bruce started coming up behind her, “I could never bring myself to tear it down.”  Marinette looked up at him wide eyed.  She was too shocked to say anything.  Her eyes moved to the bookshelf next to the crib.  It was filled with children’s books and baby toys. “I can… I mean we can change it if you’d like.”  His face wrinkled as he forced the words out.  “I know it isn’t exactly,” he paused looking for the words. “I know it isn’t exactly an ideal room for a young woman.”

He sighed and looked around the room.  He made his way over to a nightstand and picked up the framed picture standing on it.  He sat on the bed still holding the frame.  The luxurious bed sagged under him as if it was accustomed to his weight there.  “For a while, it was the only part of you I still had.”

Marinette looked back at him, her lips parting in surprise at his admission.  “Did I spend time here?” she asked quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear.

Bruce nodded.  “You did.  The grey cat stuffie was your favorite, MaoMao.”  He looked up at her with a bittersweet smile.  “You loved chewing on his ears.”

Marinette slowly walked over and sat next to him on the bed.  She looked at the picture he was holding.  He noticed her interest and held it out for her to take.  Marinette took it, almost fearfully.  She didn’t know what exactly she was afraid of, more knowledge?  New knowledge?  Everything changing yet again.  Everything had been in constant flux for the past two weeks.  She wanted things to settle but she needed to know more.

She looked at the image and immediately brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes already tearing up.  The picture was of a much younger Bruce Wayne holding baby her. The look in his eyes was absolutely enamored.  She was looking up at him with much the same expression, a wide, toothless grin on her face as she reached out for his face with one hand and clutched the stuffed cat to her chest with the other.  It was the stereotypical image of a happy family.  She ran her fingers over the image, trying to force herself to remember any part of that day, or any day here or with Bruce.

“That was out in the gardens behind the house.  There’s a little creek back there that you loved. You kept trying to work your way over to it.  Before you could walk, you’d crawl to it.  Before you could crawl, you’d scooch.  Before you could scooch, you’d roll.”  He chuckled as a far off look overtook his eyes.  “You were always very determined.”

“How much time did I spend here?” she asked.

Bruce let out a heavy sigh.  “Your mother brought you once a week for a few hours.”  He frowned.  “Then when you were about ten months old, you spent an entire month here… while your mother was in the hospital.”  Marinette whipped back to him, her eyes wide in surprise.  Bruce gave a small, pained smile.  “You two were caught in an attack that affected your building.  Sabine took the brunt of the damage for you two, but there were other kids…”

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.  Marinette didn’t blame him.  She’d seen similar scenes in Paris, bodies strewn about, children’s bodies littering the street after an akuma attack.  Bodies she hadn’t been fast enough or good enough to save.  She’d had the luxury of knowing it wasn’t permanent and she could save them.  M. Wayne wouldn’t have had that.  

“I still have nightmares about it,” he admitted hoarsely.  She frowned at him in sympathy and laid her head on his shoulder.  He froze for half a second before relaxing and laying his head against hers.  “It’s why you left.  Sabine and I were never going to get married.  We both knew that.  So I would never be able to keep you close enough to protect you.  And if I couldn’t protect you by keeping you close…”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  She pursed her lips.  “Then you thought you’d do it by keeping a distance.”

Bruce nodded.  Marinette nodded too, but didn’t say anything.  There wasn’t much to say.  She understood the reasoning.  She understood making decisions based on nightmares.  She had experience with it.  The nightmares can seem so real, they have just as much effect on you as reality, sometimes more.  They can mess with you in a way reality can’t.  She understood all of it.  And it helped.  It didn’t make it okay.  It didn’t make the hurt go away.  It didn’t excuse not contacting her even after he made sure they were safe.  But it helped.

Bruce suddenly stood up awkwardly.  “Right well, Dick will be wondering where you are. I’ll just… get out of your way.”  He shuffled stiffly for a few seconds trying to figure out if he should give a hug or just leave.  He settled for a wooden pat on the back before retreating out of the room.

Marinette stared after him for a few seconds even after the door was closed before finally moving and slowly changing her clothes. She frowned at the room.  Would it be better to change the room to exorcise the memories, or keep it the way it was?  She really wasn’t sure.  She’d have to get to know M. Wayne better before she could have a hint at the right answer.

She left her room and looked up and down the hallway, trying to remember the way back to the gymnasium.  She made it to the end of the hall before she was lucky enough to run into someone.  She quirked her head to the side.  “I thought you didn’t live here.”

“I don’t,” Jason answered gruffly.  She raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’m grabbing a book.”  He held up his book as evidence of his claim.  She raised the other eyebrow but kept silent.  “I’m not here to see you on the trapeze.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she grinned.

“Shut up,” he looked away and ruffled her hair. She squawked an objection, making him smile.  He motioned for her to follow him and guided her to the gym.  “Just make sure you listen to Dickhead.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Not going to lie, doing what I’m told isn’t my forte.”

“Hey!”  He looked suddenly very serious.  He moved closer until he was almost towering over her.  Marinette looked up at him wide eyed, caught off guard by the sudden change of mood.  “I’m the rule breaker around here.  Ask anyone. That’s my role.  Get your own.”

Marinette held her serious look for a few seconds before her entire body started shaking from the giggles she was trying to suppress. She pushed through the doors to the gym still giggling.  Jason huffed in mock annoyance and leaned against the doorframe.  Dick perked up at seeing them and made his way over with an excited smile.

“Whatever.  Just don’t wear that,” Jason motioned vaguely to her sports bra, tight tank top, and boy shorts, “around Roy.”

“You know Roy?” Dick asked with a frown.

“Why?  He going to give me a workout?” she asked Jason with a smirk.

“No!  He is not,” Dick exclaimed, face scrunching in distaste.

Jason shuddered and wrinkled his nose, making a gagging noise.  “No,” he said definitively.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw up.”

Marinette gave him a mock concerned look, her eyes open wide in innocence.  “Oh no, Jason!  Are you not feeling well?  You really shouldn’t drive yourself home.  Should I call your partner to come get you?”

“Wait, how did you even meet Roy?” Dick tried again.

Jason narrowed his eyes at her.  “I hope you fall.”

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed, his expression suddenly serious.  “That’s not funny.”

Marinette cackled as Jason walked away.  Dick shook his head at her and moved them into the gym. “Okay, let’s warm up first.”  He got down on the padded floor and started stretching out encouraging Marinette to do the same.  He watched her in surprise as she was able to stretch incredibly well for a civilian.  She was better than most of his brothers.  “You’re really flexible.  Did you take classes?”

Marinette froze almost imperceptibly.  If Dick hadn’t spent the last twenty years analyzing body language in order to survive, he would have missed it.  She shrugged in an excellent imitation of nonchalance. “I sit behind a sewing machine for hours at a time so I make sure to stretch a lot.” She laughed lightly.  “Probably a lot more than I need to.”

Dick watched her for a few seconds before nodding.  “Right,” he said slowly.  He looked her over one more time.  “Well it’s working.”

Marinette gave him an overly wide smile.  “Thanks.”

Dick eyed her suspiciously again but got up and grabbed something off the wall.  “Now,” he held up a harness for her, “I’m going to hook up a harness.  It’ll keep you from falling too fast and help with the moves.”

Marinette frowned at the thought.  If she was hooked up, she wasn’t going to be able to fly like she wanted to.  It wouldn’t feel like she imagined, like she just now realized she needed.  She needed to feel the weight of gravity on her body pulling her down.  The harness was going to throw her weight off.  It was going to interfere with her movement.  “Can we try it without the harness?” she asked tentatively.

Dick frowned at the idea, clearly not comfortable with it.  She may have swung a few times with the heroes, but that wasn’t nearly enough to be safe on the trapeze.  Maybe he could convince her to wear the harness for the first few swings and she’d realize how helpful it was.  He looked back in her eyes and faltered.  She was looking at him with wide, hopeful, innocent eyes.  How was he supposed to say no to those eyes?  “I…” he sighed and looked down defeated.  “Do you know how to fall?”

Marinette gave him a deadpan look.  “I’m the world’s foremost expert at falling.”

Dick blinked a few times and gave the deadpan look back at her.  “That’s not making me feel better about not using the harness.”

“Can we try it?” she asked hopefully.  “Just a few swings to get a feel for it and if I’m falling too much, we can try the harness.”

Dick sighed and looked down.  It was the same logic he had been planning on trying, but she was using it against him.  He ran his hand over his face in defeat.  Yeah, she’d fit in the family perfectly.  He glanced over to see Bruce peeking in and his eyes widened in realization.  If he let Bruce’s daughter, his newly brought into his life daughter, get hurt, he’d never forgive Dick.  “Okay, here’s the thing,” he started giving her his most pleading eyes.  “If we do this without the harness and you fall, Bruce is going to skin me alive.”

Marinette gave him an understanding smile.  She laid a reassuring hand on his arm and Dick breathed a sigh of relief and waited for her to agree to the harness.  “I’d protect you, but you won’t need it.  We start slow and build up.  Trust me?”  She turned her hopeful eyes back at him but they were somehow even wider and more pleading.

Dick groaned.  “Fine.”

Marinette grinned brilliantly and jumped up and down in excitement.  “Thank you! Thank you!” She jumped at Dick to give him a hug.  Dick almost startled in surprise.  A family member that wanted hugs and gave them freely?  He hugged her tightly.  Yes, please.  Hopefully, everything would be fine and she was as good as she thought she was and nothing would happen and Bruce wouldn’t kill him, so he would be able to get more hugs in the future.

They climbed up on opposite sides and stood on the platforms facing each other.  Dick got into position and showed Marinette so she could do the same.  When she was positioned, he nodded and pushed off from the platform.  “Okay, let’s start with getting the rhythm.  It’s kind of like getting a swing into rhythm,” he explained.  “When you’re ready to try, go ahead and let go.”

Before he even finished his sentence, Marinette had pushed off and started pushing the bar into a matching rhythm.  Dick blinked a few times at how quickly and smoothly she’d gotten into a matching rhythm.  It was a skill people worked at for days, sometimes weeks.  Getting into a rhythm wasn’t incredibly difficult, most people got that somewhat quickly.  

It was maintaining the same rhythm and matching your partner’s rhythm that took time and training.  Honestly, if learning how to get the trapeze to swing smoothly was all she learned out of this time, he would have been impressed.  But she was already far past that.  She was swinging like it was second nature, like the physics of swinging and gravity were inherent.

“Good job,” he said a bit breathlessly.  “Ready to try a simple move?”

Marinette grinned back and nodded in understanding before remembering he wouldn’t always be able to see her.  She had to be very vocal about everything so he could react properly.  “Yes,” she called out loudly.

“Okay, when I say go, let go of your bar and hold out your arms for me to grab.”

“Okay,” Marinette called out.  She focused on maintaining her momentum and enjoying the way the air pushed back against her as she glided through it, the resistance creating a familiar feeling of a breeze against her skin.  The baby hairs around her hairline, the only hair free of her tight bun, were blowing back and forth as she moved.

As soon as she heard Dick say ‘go’, she let go and arched her back, reaching for him.  She free fell for only a moment before Dick caught her forearms in a strong grip.  She grabbed his forearms too in a tight grip and looked up to meet his eyes.  Their eyes met, exhilarated smiles on both their lips.  

Dick grinned in surprise at the success.  He’d been expecting her to fall, to be honest. The first time doing a catch almost always resulted in falling unless the person was well trained or well prepared, which he admittedly hadn’t done for Marinette.  It was a fumble of arms reaching and tangling, grasping for each other, but moving at the same time, trying to anticipate but guessing wrong. But she understood how to do a catch. She understood to trust her partner to catch her.

He grinned wider at what that meant; she trusted him!  His face suddenly turned serious.  “Okay, here’s the tricky part.  I’m going to count to three.  When I say three, I’m going to let go.  You’ll need to twist around and grab the bar.”

Marinette’s expression turned serious as well, though her eyes still sparkled with delight.  “Understood.”

Dick nodded.  “One… two… three.”  He let go on three and Marinette twisted in time to grab the bar, both of them frozen for a moment in weightlessness while she waited for gravity to take over.

She swung away from Dick but quickly flipped on the bar so she was facing him again.  Dick chuckled and shook his head.  “Let’s get more complex, what do you think?”

Marinette’s grin got wider and her eyes impossibly brighter.  “Yes, please.”

Dick laughed loudly, his laughter echoing off the walls, her laughter quickly joining his.  They swung together for almost half an hour, trying increasingly difficult tricks until they finally got to one Marinette couldn’t do.  Dick’s eyes widened in surprise as she fell in front of his eyes.  He was so accustomed to her keeping up with him, it was a shock when she didn’t.  His heart started pounding and he scrambled to get back to the platform until he heard Marinette’s giggles.  He looked down and saw her bounding across the bouncy net toward the ladder.

When she got to the platform she looked over at him with a grin.  “Try it again?”

Dick grinned at her and flipped back over on his bar.  “Let’s go then.”

The trick ended in the same result, but Dick joined her in the net on purpose this time.  “Maybe try to build up to that?” Dick suggested.  

Marinette nodded as she tried to catch her breath. “Sounds fun.”

“Did you want to try it on your own?” Dick offered. “You seem like you’re comfortable up there.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in excited surprise.  “Really!”

Dick chuckled and nodded.  “Have at it.”

Marinette bounced back over to the ladder and quickly made her way to the bar.  She started swinging and twisting on it, using the zero gravity to do solo tricks. Dick was so engrossed in her performance he almost forgot to get out of the net.  She was so graceful and elegant, like she knew exactly what gravity was going to do down to the millimeter.  It wasn’t at his level, she clearly hadn’t been trained.  But she was also clearly not a novice.

After a while she fell down into the net again breathing heavily.  She grinned at Dick.  “That was amazing.  Thank you! I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Dick helped her down from the net, immediately returning the hug she gave him before he could set her down.  “I had fun too.  Anytime you want to use it, feel free.  Just come on over.”

Marinette gave him a small nod.  Her smile still hadn’t died down at all.  “Let’s cool down.” Dick motioned toward the padded mat again.  He and Marinette sat across from each other and started stretching again.  Dick watched her as she stretched, that spark never leaving her eyes.  He knew the feeling well, that felling you get from flying, the freedom, the release.

Images of her growing up with them, him being able to teach her trapeze from the time she was a baby ran through his head. Fantasies of being a big brother to her, keeping her safe, teaching her, sharing the feeling of flying together… all of it gone.  No chance to happen.  Because Bruce walked away from her and straight to him.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice was heavy, weighted down with guilt.

Marinette quirked her head to the side and blinked a few times.  Her mind raced trying to figure out what he could possibly be referring to.  “Did something happen?”

Dick shook his head, his eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out how to say what he was feeling.  “I.. I’m… he… I was the one he took in after…”

Marinette’s eyes softened immediately.  She laid a hand on Dick’s arm.  “Dick,” she started softly.  “You don’t have to apologize for getting adopted, for finding a home where you felt safe and loved.  You didn’t do anything wrong,” she assured him.

Dick searched her eyes for any evidence she didn’t believe what she was saying, but there was only sincerity and a touch of bittersweetness.  “Neither did you.”  His voice was sure and supportive.  His eyes bored into her, pushing against her boundaries.

Marinette looked away quickly.  She hummed noncommittally.  “Except going to the gala,” she said wryly.  “I should have just let Adrien take care of it.  As soon as I found out I should have…” she trailed off, unsure how to end it.

Dick moved closer to her and threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side.  “But then we wouldn’t have met for who knows how long,” he offered with a bright smile.

Marinette let out a heavy breath and smiled at how hard he was trying.  She looked back up at him from the corner of her eye.  “And what a shame that would be.”

Dick’s grin got wider.  “Exactly!”  He hugged her closer for a few moments as the smile slowly faded from his face.  “I just want to let you know I’m here for you.  I'm sure this is really overwhelming and Bruce has never been good with conveying... or feeling... emotions.  But if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here.”

He moved away so he could see her more clearly. “I missed out on being your big brother growing up and we’ll never get that time back.  And to be honest, I’m extremely upset with Bruce about that. But I’d like to make up for that lost time now.  So if you need anything, I’m here.  You want anything, I’m here.  You want to talk, I’m here.  You want to yell or scream at somebody, I’m here.  If you have a problem you need help with, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette looked up at him in surprise.  She blinked a few times uncertain what to say.  “I…”  She closed her mouth quickly, still not sure how to finish the sentence.  After a few moments she smiled softly at him.  “Thank you, Dick.”

Dick pulled her in for another hug, enjoying the feeling of her reciprocating.  Maybe she could show their other siblings how to do that without it being a life threatening situation.  Dick grinned widely as he squeezed her tight and rested his head on hers.  “Or if you just want a hug.  To tell you a secret, I give the best hugs in the family.”

Marinette scoffed playfully as she pulled away from him.  “I don’t know, Jason gives good hugs.”

Dick snapped his eyes to hers.  “Jason gives hugs!”

They almost jumped with Bruce walked in with a wide smile.  “How was it?”  He watched them with a smile as they stood together and stayed close after rising.  It was absolutely no surprise that Dick was able to get so close to her so quickly, but it was still reassuring to see it.

“It was amazing!” Marinette enthused.  “I had so much fun!  I can’t wait to do it again.”

Bruce smiled.  “Any time you want,” he promised.  “Any time you want to come over, feel free.  No need to call first.”  He paused for a moment.  “Although maybe not in the middle of the night.  “It would wake Alfred up.  He’d be more than happy to let you in but we already put him through so much.”

Marinette smiled and chuckled.  “I understand.  I’ll keep the visits to the daytime.”  She looked up just in time to see Dick giving Bruce a significant look.  Dick played it off with a wide smile that Marinette pretended to buy.  She also pretended not to notice the look Bruce gave him back.  She shuffled a few times before looking quietly between them. “Um… I’ll just… I’m going to take a shower and change back.”

Bruce nodded with a soft smile.  The smile was so convincing, Marinette would never have thought anything suspicious was going on if she hadn’t seen the look they gave each other… immediately after Dick spent the afternoon with her.  “You know the way back to your room?”

Marinette nodded rapidly.  “Of course.  Thank you.” She turned to Dick again.  “And thank you.  This was a lot of fun.”

Dick shook his head with a smile.  “You don’t have to thank me, Marinette.  I wanted to spend time with you.  I look forward to doing it again.”

Marinette nodded to him and left the room as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion.  As soon as she was out of eyesight, she speed walked back to the room, closing the door quickly behind her.  She leaned against the door and banged her head against it lightly a few times. It was okay, she tried to reassure herself.  They didn’t know her yet, of course they would have secrets and want to talk about what they learned about her.  She knew that.  But it still hurt.

As soon as Marinette was out of ear shot, Bruce turned back to Dick.  “How did she do?”

“She’s done that before,” Dick reported to Bruce, keeping his voice low so Marinette couldn’t hear him.

“We knew that,” Bruce answered just as quietly. “She said the heroes took her around sometimes.”  He pursed his lips tightly at the thought.  Even knowing nothing happened, he wasn’t happy about it.  The only thing he could think of was all the things that could have happened to her if their villain would have found out.

“No,” Dick cut in before Bruce could brood too hard. “She’s done something similar enough to be comfortable with it, enough that she soared, she flew.  Enough that her body instantly fell into the rhythm, into trusting someone else to catch her.  Those things are learned, Bruce.  I think she had a closer relationship with the heroes than we think she did.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Dick, processing his words.  He nodded and looked back to the hallway Marinette had disappeared down.  “The heroes disappeared.  Diana said she can’t even contact them anymore.  Marinette’s the only one who can tell us more.”

Dick nodded.  “I’ll see what I can do when we get together on Monday for Duke’s reading.”

“Carefully,” Bruce cautioned.  He glanced over to catch Dick’s flat look.  “I don’t want to push her.  She’s your sister.  She’s family, not a source.  She’s not a suspect.  She’s not even a victim.  We don’t need this information.  It would be nice to know, but we can live without it.  She’s allowed her privacy.  Plus she’s smart.  You start asking questions, she’s going to get suspicious and may get upset we’re digging into things she doesn’t want to talk about.”

“I know how to talk to people, Bruce,” Dick scoffed. “I’m better at talking to your kids than you are, if you recall.”

“I’m well aware,” Bruce conceded.  “I just… I don’t want to upset her.  She’s allowed her privacy.”

“And I’ll respect that.  And her,” Dick assured him.  He paused for a few seconds before he broached the next subject.  It was going to be delicate, one that neither of them wanted to consider.  “So the question is, if she did have a closer relationship with the Parisian heroes, when did her relationship with Adrien start.  And why.”

Bruce furrowed his brow.  “You think he started it because he knew she was close to the heroes? You think he was working with his father?”  He stared intently at Dick trying to gauge how serious he was about this.  “It doesn’t make sense for him to still be with her if that’s all it was.  And Ladybug told Wonder Woman Adrien was not involved,” Bruce said quietly.  “She vouched for him.”

“And we trust her word?” Dick asked in the same tone.

Bruce paused as he thought about it.  They really didn’t know Ladybug at all.  She’d disappeared after the last fight and only Wonder Woman seemed to have had any contact with her, and limited contact at that.  The League had never gotten the chance to gauge her competence in areas outside of fighting.  “She said he helped give evidence to take his father down,” he started tentatively.

“But…” Dick prompted.

Bruce let out a deep sigh.  This was not going to go over well with Marinette, but if Adrien was using her, they needed to know.  “But it could be a cover.  We don’t know enough to completely excuse him and we don’t know enough about Ladybug or Marinette to know how good of a judge they are.”

Dick nodded.  “We proceed with caution.”

“Extreme caution,” Bruce stressed.  “You heard how she talked about him at dinner.  She’s very protective of him.  Questioning Adrien is going to take more delicacy and tact than questioning her, I think.”

Dick nodded and looked down the hallway toward her room.  He would have to spend the next few days doing research before they met up on Monday.

Chapter 14

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[senor-plume]

Marriage by Gregory Corso

Should I get married? Should I be good? Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustus hood? Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets then desire her and kiss her and all the preliminaries and she going just so far and I understanding why not getting angry saying You must feel! It's beautiful to feel! Instead take her in my arms lean against an old crooked tombstone and woo her the entire night the constellations in the sky-

When she introduces me to her parents back straightened, hair finally combed, strangled by a tie, should I sit with my knees together on their 3rd degree sofa and not ask Where's the bathroom? How else to feel other than I am, often thinking Flash Gordon soap- O how terrible it must be for a young man seated before a family and the family thinking We never saw him before! He wants our Mary Lou! After tea and homemade cookies they ask What do you do for a living?

Should I tell them? Would they like me then? Say All right get married, we're losing a daughter but we're gaining a son- And should I then ask Where's the bathroom?

O God, and the wedding! All her family and her friends and only a handful of mine all scroungy and bearded just wait to get at the drinks and food- And the priest! he looking at me as if I masturbated asking me Do you take this woman for your lawful wedded wife? And I trembling what to say say Pie Glue! I kiss the bride all those corny men slapping me on the back She's all yours, boy! Ha-ha-ha! And in their eyes you could see some obscene honeymoon going on- Then all that absurd rice and clanky cans and shoes Niagara Falls! Hordes of us! Husbands! Wives! Flowers! Chocolates! All streaming into cozy hotels All going to do the same thing tonight The indifferent clerk he knowing what was going to happen The lobby zombies they knowing what The whistling elevator man he knowing Everybody knowing! I'd almost be inclined not to do anything! Stay up all night! Stare that hotel clerk in the eye! Screaming: I deny honeymoon! I deny honeymoon! running rampant into those almost climactic suites yelling Radio belly! Cat shovel! O I'd live in Niagara forever! in a dark cave beneath the Falls I'd sit there the Mad Honeymooner devising ways to break marriages, a scourge of bigamy a saint of divorce-

But I should get married I should be good How nice it'd be to come home to her and sit by the fireplace and she in the kitchen aproned young and lovely wanting my baby and so happy about me she burns the roast beef and comes crying to me and I get up from my big papa chair saying Christmas teeth! Radiant brains! Apple deaf! God what a husband I'd make! Yes, I should get married! So much to do! Like sneaking into Mr Jones' house late at night and cover his golf clubs with 1920 Norwegian books Like hanging a picture of Rimbaud on the lawnmower like pasting Tannu Tuva postage stamps all over the picket fence like when Mrs Kindhead comes to collect for the Community Chest grab her and tell her There are unfavorable omens in the sky! And when the mayor comes to get my vote tell him When are you going to stop people killing whales! And when the milkman comes leave him a note in the bottle Penguin dust, bring me penguin dust, I want penguin dust-

Yes if I should get married and it's Connecticut and snow and she gives birth to a child and I am sleepless, worn, up for nights, head bowed against a quiet window, the past behind me, finding myself in the most common of situations a trembling man knowledged with responsibility not twig-smear nor Roman coin soup- O what would that be like! Surely I'd give it for a nipple a rubber Tacitus For a rattle a bag of broken Bach records Tack Della Francesca all over its crib Sew the Greek alphabet on its bib And build for its playpen a roofless Parthenon

No, I doubt I'd be that kind of father Not rural not snow no quiet window but hot smelly tight New York City seven flights up, roaches and rats in the walls a fat Reichian wife screeching over potatoes Get a job! And five nose running brats in love with Batman And the neighbors all toothless and dry haired like those hag masses of the 18th century all wanting to come in and watch TV The landlord wants his rent Grocery store Blue Cross Gas & Electric Knights of Columbus impossible to lie back and dream Telephone snow, ghost parking- No! I should not get married! I should never get married! But-imagine if I were married to a beautiful sophisticated woman tall and pale wearing an elegant black dress and long black gloves holding a cigarette holder in one hand and a highball in the other and we lived high up in a penthouse with a huge window from which we could see all of New York and even farther on clearer days No, can't imagine myself married to that pleasant prison dream-

O but what about love? I forget love not that I am incapable of love It's just that I see love as odd as wearing shoes- I never wanted to marry a girl who was like my mother And Ingrid Bergman was always impossible And there's maybe a girl now but she's already married And I don't like men and- But there's got to be somebody! Because what if I'm 60 years old and not married, all alone in a furnished room with pee stains on my underwear and everybody else is married! All the universe married but me!

Ah, yet well I know that were a woman possible as I am possible then marriage would be possible- Like SHE in her lonely alien gaud waiting her Egyptian lover so i wait-bereft of 2,000 years and the bath of life.

[thegreatbigfourmain]

Royalty!AU

The young chief had a somber expression on his face as he readjusted the fur cloak resting upon his shoulders. Although Drago and the former Alpha retreated to the ocean, the battle had taken many casualties within the village of Berk. Both dragons and Vikings suffered in the crossfire, leaving them with half their population still standing. It left him with the drastic decision of needing a treaty with a neighboring village to keep his people and dragons armed for another attack.

However, that proved to be a problem. No one wanted to encounter what Berk did in their village. Many of his allies rejected his request no matter how much he emphasized the superb protection done by his dragons. Thankfully to the gods, one did accept. The kingdom of Corona could never turn away a desperate plea for help. And Thor Almighty he was in dire need of assistance.

The arrangement showed to be more than what the Vikings bargained for.

As a way to kill two birds with one stone, the King of Corona agreed to the Viking chief’s wishes if he complies in escorting his daughter, the princess. All other suitors were sent away by her highness, though she is compelled to choose one. He tried to weave his way out of it, but the king would not budge. In his words, “It is not an arranged marriage, but rather being a potential candidate for the role.” To his displeasure, he had no choice but to accept it for the good of his people. It forced him to have a very long conversation with his girlfriend, who was livid when she heard of the final decision. It was the cause for the look on his face.

Hiccup Haddock the Third put on a brave face before entering the throne room where her grace awaited his arrival. He did notice how Corona was the complete opposite of Berk. Everything from the buildings to the atmosphere was different and foreign to him. Banners of the kingdom’s emblem hung everywhere. It seemed like these people are obsessed with the sun. He shouldn’t think much of it considering he’s just as obsessed with dragons, something Astrid also poked fun of whenever they trained.

Astrid…

The brunet made his way down the aisle as he stepped on the softest lavender carpet his feet have ever felt. Then again, he hasn’t much use for fancy rugs and such in his home. The closer he moved toward the royal family, the more his heart sank in his chest. A future without Astrid was unheard of, but the world without dragons was one he simply could not live without. Like the king said, it is not an arranged marriage, just a courtship. If the princess prefers not to marry him, she might be willing to tell her father to keep the treaty. It was the only shred of hope he had for his relationship.

Finally, Hiccup stood in front of the three of them sitting in their lavish thrones. He had seen the queen and king before, but never the princess. He bowed respectfully to them before his forest green eyes couldn’t help but glance at the rumored beauty. When he did, it took every ounce of power within him not to gawk in wonder.

In layman’s terms, she was gorgeous. No, that did not fully define the vision before him. Hiccup could not find the words to describe being in her presence. He was utterly speechless. It horrified him.

The chief knelt down before the princess in an attempt to not gaze any longer. He kept his eyes on the carpet beneath him.

“Your highness,” he said as soon as he realized no words escaped his shocked lips.

“I am here to escort you back to my village of Berk. I hope you will enjoy it there for the time being.” Hiccup said while his fingers rubbed against each other, something he does when thinking of his next sentence. If he raised his head, it would only entice more emotions and thoughts within him.

"You may rise, Dragon Rider," spoke a soft, yet confident voice. Despite what his brain was telling him, Hiccup did what the voice told him to. In the back of his subconscious, he knew he would do anything that voice would tell him to do from now on.

Once he looked up, he was hooked.

Just what was it with him and blondes?

The blonde beauty dressed in a lavish lavender gown with intricate patterns stood before him. It felt as if they were the only two people in the room, no doubt due in part to the way his forest green eyes met her emerald irises that reminded him of spring. Her adorably speckled freckles spread across her button nose seemed to disperse once they reached her rosy pink cheeks. Her unusually long golden hair was braided behind her frame and decorated with freshly picked flowers will most definitely be out of place in Berk, though he wouldn't mind if she asked for him to pick those flowers for her every day.

What was he thinking?!

Probably depicting his nervousness, the princess flashed him a heart-piercing smile. If she meant it in a friendly way, it was anything but. It took every ounce of his being not to continue gawking at the princess before Hiccup cleared his throat to form some sort of response.

"Are, are you ready to leave Your Highness?" He stuttered his words like he was back to being a teenager, though his 20 years of age.

She gave a quick nod as she descended from her throne to meet him, the Viking holding his breath for the close encounter. When she was a mere few feet away, Hiccup gulped down the knot in his throat.

"What is your mode of transportation to Berk, Chief Hiccup?" she inquired curiously, with a slight tilt of the head. Could she stop being adorable for a moment while he tries to wrap his mind around everything right now?

"Umm, dr-dragons. Dragons Your Highness."

"Rapunzel. You can call me Rapunzel," she responded with a soft grin.

"Rapunzel," he repeated, testing out how the name rolled off his tongue.

"Is it safe?" A loud, anxious voice asked in the room. The pair glanced behind to the king standing up at the mention of his only daughter riding on the back of a dragon. Hiccup has mentioned their way of living in between the letters they exchanged, but maybe the realization finally caught up to his majesty.

"Very much so, Your Majesty. I built all the mechanics myself and tested them out numerous times. I have the scars to prove it," he chuckled, though it did not seem to ease the tension in the room.

Tough crowd.

The blonde giggled behind him, grabbing the brunet's attention. He didn't think he's heard such a melodious laugh before in his life.

"I'm sure it's fine, father. If Chief Hiccup believes so," Rapunzel confirmed as she stood beside him. Her presence alone was enough to nearly hinder the Viking under her spell.

The king still seemed to be hesitant, though gave the pair a nod in conformation to allow this stranger to take his child on a possibly dangerous journey back to his homeland.

"Very well. I wish you both well on your route to Berk," he replied in a baritone voice, though there was a hint of sadness in his bright blue eyes. Rapunzel must have seen it as well, considering she picked up her dress skirt to rush over and give her father a hug. The whole image might have been heartwarming if Hiccup didn't first notice the fact that this certain blonde seemed to be barefoot.

Just who is this girl?

The princess then gave her equally gorgeous mother a hug, the small family exchanging a few words before the blonde returned to Hiccup's side. Her smile was something his heart was beginning to enjoy.

"Ready when you are Chief Hiccup."

"Hiccup, just Hiccup is fine Your- Rapunzel," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair out of embarrassment.

"Okay, Just Hiccup," she joked before taking the lead to show him outside.

The pair walked through the same elegant doors Hiccup did when he arrived to find his best friend waiting for him. He was accompanied by a guard who nervously kept his distance away from the nigthfury.

"Hey bud," Hiccup greeted, feeling much better seeing one thing familiar in this land. The nightfury jumped over to him like a dog, licking his face.

"No Toothless! You know that doesn't wash out! The princess is here~" the Viking groaned when Toothless backed away when he was satisfied.

"I'm so sorry Rapunzel," he muttered, clearly embarrassed by how informal the interaction was. The blonde didn't seem to mind, evident by the huge grin on her face. Toothless already lost focus on his human, examining the blonde and advancing towards her. His snout sniffed her face, getting close enough to ruffle her bangs. Hiccup noticed the way more guards readied themselves in the chance this might turn ugly. He chuckled, how naive.

"Hello, Toothless. Are you going to be taking us to Berk?" She asked softly. A slow yet confident hand reached for his snout, which surprisingly Toothless went in with no hesitation.

"What a sweetheart," she beamed as her other hand went to cup the dragon's muzzle. Hiccup couldn't help but smile himself. It seemed she could easily adapt to their ways faster than he assumed a princess would be.

While she kept herself occupied gaining more of Toothless' love, Hiccup glanced at the royal couple who gave him a knowing nod. His high from facing the princess quickly faded away with the realization that there was an agreement between the two lands. This was a courtship for potential marriage, not simply showing her around his land. The thought of Astrid returned to his mind and the guilt of anything he felt towards Rapunzel weighed heavy on his chest. She never once passed through his thoughts once he met Rapunzel's eyes.

The Viking mounted himself on the nightfury to ready himself for the long trip back to Berk.

"Are you ready, Rapunzel?" Hiccup asked in a monotone voice as emotions swirled within him. Thankfully, the blonde was oblivious to his change of attitude from playing with Toothless when she heard him.

"Yes Hiccup," she replied, walking over to him and trying to figure out how to mount the dragon. "Umm, Hiccup, how do I...?" she trailed off.

He had been so caught up in himself, he didn't realize her unfamiliarity with riding dragons. It reminded him of when he taught Astrid all about them a few years ago...

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here," he stuttered over his words as he reached his arm out. The blonde gently took it and steadied herself for Hiccup to heave her body weight, which was lighter than the axes he swings around, to settle behind him.

Thor Almighty give him the strength for the remainder of the trip to not have his heart pound like a Thunderdrum's roar when her arms wrapped around his lean form. He could feel her warmth all down his back, his arms frozen in place sensing Rapunzel adjust herself comfortably in her seat.

"Okay Hiccup, I'm ready," she said in a nervous, yet excited state.

Sensing her anxious tone, Hiccup absentmindedly reached down to gently hold her arm to ease her nerves.

"Don't worry. I got you," he muttered softly, sighing in defeat that this girl was doing something to his soul. It must have to deal with the fact her people are still new to dragons, and the more positive promotion they can have, the better it is for future generations. At least that's what he kept repeating to himself in hopeless denial.

"Take it easy with the flight bud, we need her to like us" Hiccup whispered to Toothless. The last thing he needed on his plate was Rapunzel not having an easy time on the way to Berk.

The nightfury seemed to get the message as extended his wings out for the wind to gingerly lift him off the ground. Despite the easy takeoff, Rapunzel still tightened her arms around him while letting out a cute squeak of surprise at the new sensation of being in the air.

This is going to be a long ride.

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 20 - Death

Toothless takes Hiccup to visit his parents. It's not what Hiccup expected. (1915 words)

cw: spoilers for HTTYD 2

Toothless perched on the edge of a cliff, overseeing a long fall towards the wide, open ocean. Hiccup laid on the night fury's back, staring up at the night sky. The dragon's tail swished back and forth, quietly playing a game with the viking's prosthetic leg, each catching and releasing the other in a tiny game of tag. It was a time of quiet thought. Toothless was thinking mostly about fish. Big ones, little ones, raw and cooked, wriggling in his mouth and dangling lifelessly from a human's hook. He silently wondered if whales were fish, or if they were too big. Perhaps all that differentiates a dragon from a large fish is a breath weapon. Toothless imagined fish flying through the sky, where he would dart down and snap them up.

Hiccup, on the other hand, was not thinking about fish. He was thinking about Toothless, and Stoick the Vast, and Valka. "Hey, Toothless, I just realized: you've met both of my parents now." The thin viking chuckled. "I can't say I ever expected that to happen... any time before it actually did. Do dragons keep track of their parents?"

The night fury made an inquisitive sound, then quickly bobbed his head, nodding a confirmation. He wondered if fish had parents, and if it was better to eat a parent fish or a child fish. Maybe a distraught child fish would make itself easier to catch after Toothless ate its parents. Maybe the reverse was true. Or, the night fury considered, a fish might grow angry and flop ferociously at him in the wake of his piscematricide. An imaginary fish slapped him in the face; an imaginary version of Toothless ate it for its insolence, and also because it was tasty.

Toothless realized Hiccup was talking again, and decided to stop thinking about fish. For now. Probably.

"...so, it would be cool to meet your parents. I mean, if they're not dead. That would be, uh, awkward." Toothless's rider lost confidence and spoke more quietly as he kept speaking. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen any other night furies, actually. I hope you're not the last of..."

Toothless snorted and rose to his feet, jostling his human off. He flicked his tailfin open and wiggled his body, inviting Hiccup to mount up and fly. He had something to show the human. He trusted him more than enough.

The human in question, however, kept talking, mostly stammering as he continue to try to apologize for what might have been a slight but almost certainly wasn't, and several other silly human things. Toothless rolled his eyes, growled for attention, and wiggled again. It was time for Hiccup to be quiet and get on his dragon. And fortunately, Hiccup did just that. Toothless crouched as soon as he felt Hiccup's foot and fake foot slide into place at the controls of his tailfin, then leapt into the air and plummeted off the cliff.

Hiccup couldn't see so well in the dark, so Toothless pulled up early; as he not only expected, but knew in his heart would happen, Hiccup snapped open the fake fin as soon as the black-scaled dragon began to pull up, leaving them shooting off over the water, between a sea of stars and a sea of fish.

They approached the forest of rocky pillars, and Toothless built up the fire and magic within him. The dragon pulled his teeth in to avoid them getting hit, and a ball of superheated gas shot from between his lips, a shock of lightning on its tail. It zoomed into the cluster of stone, burst in a purple, white, and blue explosion, and sent several small sparks of lightning crackling and crawling around and through the pillars. Toothless watched as the lights all but disippated, then approached and vocalized a few noises, their signal for "let me fly." The dragon felt his human's feet disengage from the tailfin mechanism, and he flew silently into the darkened maze of stone. It was a familiar, yet unused pattern. With just the moon and the stars shedding light, the night fury was nearly invisible as he banked left around a few rocks, circled one, dove and rose through an invisible pattern of flight. The dragon landed on a pillar of stone and leapt off it, then ran down another before flaring his wings and zooming through a shallow slalom.

At last, Toothless soared back up, spiraling up around a towering spire of rock to shed speed. He burbled another signal to his rider, and felt the comfort of his partner ready for backup, to once more fly WITH him rather than merely ON him. And, all set, Toothless flapped leisurely out of the maze of stone, directly towards an island that he was certain Hiccup had never seen before.

The island was lit with torches that did not burn, and the weather was pleasant, even in the cool night. Toothless landed in a run, slowing to a trot as he neared the familiar - to him, at least - stone and wood buildings. Hiccup shifted to untether himself and dismount, but Toothless raised his wings up to either side. It wouldn't physically stop Hiccup, but he hoped it would let him know to stay on the night fury. As the brown-haired viking settled back into position on his back, Toothless relaxed and gave a low, approving warble as he walked along the island, headed towards a large house partway up. As he neared it, the night fury opened his mouth and shrieked a greeting. He stopped in front of the large front doors and patiently waited until they opened. Once inside, he let his wings droop, and Hiccup slid off his back, walking side-by-side with Toothless.

From a doorway ahead, a woman peered into the hallway, then smiled warmly when she saw Toothless. "Oh, hello dear," she said, stepping out and opening her arms for a hug, "it's been so long. You should visit more often!" She wore what Toothless remembered her often wearing - a loose, elegant, black shirt with a ribcage done in faint, light blue, and a pair of pants in the same style, long enough to cover even her feet, but never seeming to trip her up. Toothless leaned his head and neck into her as they embraced, the woman's bracelets of bone a stark contrast against both her clothing and his scales. "Your father is off brewing a storm for some big contract he has, otherwise he'd be here to see you too. Oh, and who's this?"

Hiccup was still busy staring, utterly bewildered, between Toothless and this strange woman, when she turned towards him. "You didn't tell me you got a boyfriend!" she said; Toothless hissed and grumbled, and she laughed. "I'm only playing, dear. I suppose I should be thankful one of my children thinks to introduce me to his friends outside of professional matters."

Hiccup awkwardly waved his hand, then offered it out to shake. "Uh, hi. I'm Hiccup. So, you're Toothless's... mother?"

"Oh, is that what he's going by now?" She looked over at her son, who moaned and brought his wings tightly against himself, trying to shrink away from sight. "And yes, though you can just call me Death." Hiccup jolted back, though he immediately looked more sheepish over his reaction than scared of the woman. Toothless rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what joke his mom was about to make. "Oh, don't you worry, Hiccup, I'm off the clock. The only thing I'm interested in killing right now is the stew I've been heating up." Yep, there it was. "Anyway, come in, come in. I'll get some bowls out for you both; I'm sure there's nothing like some fresh mutton stew after a flight, and I always make far too much for just me."

As they made their way into the dining room and to the table, Toothless watched as his viking's gaze went from him, to his mom, then back to him, doing that little thing with his mouth whenever he thought really hard. After a few seconds, he saw him mouth a few words, then his face went slack with shock. "The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself..." he mumbled.

Death returned with three bowls of stew - Toothless's being the widest and shallowest, with a nice, big piece of meat in the middle - and quirked an eybrow at Hiccup. "What's this about my boy being unholy?" she asked.

The viking blanched. "No, not that - he's amazing, trust me, saved my life more times than I can count - it's just, there's this book of dragons we had- have, I guess, but that was only in the old version-" he rambled. Toothless watched calmly after bolting down his meat, keeping his eyes on his rider while he lapped at his stew. "-and most dragons, they had these ratings and descriptions, like 'speed four, strength two, breath seven, extremely dangerous, kill on sight.' But for night furies-" Toothless flicked his focus to his mom, catching a glimmer of satisfaction at the phrase "kill on sight."

"-almost never seen, and certainly never captured - until me - so it was just 'speed unknown, size unknown, never engage; hide and pray it doesn't find you.' And the description it gave was 'the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself,' that was all I knew on it - on him - before I started learning about him from, well, him." Hiccup finally took a break to breathe and try some stew, then finished his thought, "anyway, so that's why I said that. I certainly don't think there's anything unholy about him. In fact, he's sort of the reason Snotlout isn't chief, and I-"

Toothless and Hiccup froze as the night fury and his rider considered the unsaid word, "chief," and the weight behind how Toothless granted Hiccup that title. They and their friends - the riders, for Hiccup, and the Berkian dragons, for Toothless - had spent such a long time trying to help them work through their guilt and sorrow of that event. And, luckily, their efforts had borne fruit. They soon calmed back down, although Toothless found himself much more interested in his lamb stew.

If there could be one saving grace of that moment, it was that both boys figured that they wouldn't have to explain their silence. Death, of all people, would know. "Well," she said, to break the silence and change the topic, "I'm glad my son has found such a 'very good friend.' One he felt was important enough to convince him to visit his mother after so many years."

It worked; Toothless moaned a complaint while Hiccup chuckled awkwardly. "Ah, that's partly my fault. He hasn't exactly had a natural tailfin for a while now, it was lost when he crashed in my net." Toothless helpfully raised the tip of his tail to show off the mismatched fins.

"Ah. Well." Death took a sip from her cup. "All's well that ends well, I suppose. Perhaps it's a good thing your father isn't home; he can be very protective of our scaly son."

Hiccup took another spoonful of stew, then looked back at Death. "Wait, if you're Death, and Toothless is of... does that mean that his dad, who'd be upset at me, is-"

Death smiled. "Lightning, yes. I believe you might know him as... what's that moniker, Thor?"

The viking's eyes unfocused. "Good to know. Now, if you'll please excuse me."

Hiccup fainted.

[whipped-stream]

I watched: The Night Manager

I find spy stuff a bit difficult really. It’s so smug - long, indulgently complicated stories chock-full of smart men in smart suits drinking man-drinks like whisky or martinis, surveilling each other out of the corners of their eyes, skulking around the charming alleyways of some architecturally opulent urban space. No one is ever insecure in a spy story; no one ever has a moment where they’re at a loss for words; no one ever has acne or eats a burger or even drinks a latte, because the only coffee appropriate for a spy story has to be something tight and elegant like an espresso. Oh, and very few people in these stories are ever female, fat (unless they’re evil) or gay (unless they’re evil).

Of course, this is all completely endemic to the genre. Asking for a spy thriller without these qualities would be like asking for a Judd Apatow comedy without a bunch of scruffy beardy blokes. But like - it’s 2021 now, and you’d think we would be gradually nearing the point where we were ready to retire all the tiresome, difficult stuff about the genre and do something new and interesting with it. Alas, The Night Manager has proved to me that we are nowhere near this possible future.

Don’t get me wrong, this is an enjoyable, easy show if you don’t think about it too much. It’s polished, gorgeous to look at and the basic plot revolving around illegal arms trading in the Middle East is absorbing, albeit a little toothless (for all the action and violence in the Middle East scenes we never really engage on any level with the human impact of this nefarious trade, besides one anecdote which never really lands). Tom Hiddleston and Hugh Laurie are both, predictably, also amazing in this show. Tom Hiddleston is perfect as a hotel manager; his earnest, twinkly-eyed politeness fits perfectly in the luxury hotels his character glides through, just as his luxury suits and luxury face suit the luxury décor. Then, as a secret services mole amongst gangsters, he is perfect again, charming everyone into smitten trust with a gleaming smile as they fall into the glacier-blue lagoons of his eyes, barely noticing him surreptitiously gathering all their secrets.

Hugh Laurie is as charismatic and sinister as a cartoon devil and makes for a terrific villain, fiercely dedicated to chewing the scenery at every opportunity. It is unclear to me why they chose to give him a sortof shabby Friar Tuck haircut for the role, but perhaps he is doing a Harrison Ford and just exerting his Great Actor Famepower to refuse to undergo any kind of personal grooming before a scene.

But yeah. Every time I was enjoying it, the dang show did something to ruin it. Firstly it was the ‘Bond women’. Sure, stunningly beautiful and sexually inviting women are a staple of this genre, and this show tries its best to show good faith by making sure that the stunningly beautiful and sexually inviting women in this instance have some kind of personality and plot relevance. It’s a pathetic effort at best. The first gorgeous woman chivvies the plot along for all of two minutes before flinging her fabulous self at Tom Hiddlestone and being a charming bedfellow just long enough for him to be distraught when he discovers her moments later in a pool of her own blood. Ahh, yes, a classic Woman in Refrigerator - gosh, I haven’t seen one of those employed with such efficiency in quite some time. Despite barely knowing her, Tom Hiddlestone is so devastated that he moves into some kind of massive concrete bunker right at the top of a Swiss Alpine mountain (what IS that house, dude!?!? Do you live in a weather monitoring facility?) and eventually agrees to become an agent for the secret services - which of course presents even more opportunities for some top totty.

The other stunningly beautiful woman in this show is in a relationship with the baddie played by Hugh Laurie, even though the two of them don’t so much have an age gap as an age chasm. She is called ‘Jed’, and she truly is only here for the camera to make long, indulgent pans up her svelte legs and delicate back. The show leaps at any opportunity to show a bit of her boob and at one point she fully disrobes and walks slowly and teasingly into the sea, pointing her arse right at Tom Hiddlestone, in order to make a point about living a carefree life. All the personal details about this woman are arbitrary - she has a kid that she never gets to see, I guess, and like she’s kind of suspicious of her boyfriend the arms dealer or whatever, but the show refuses to waste any time giving these story points any more than a cursory glance. Jed is a hollow, objectified character whose clothes fall off at the slightest jostle.

And then there’s the other thing. The torture thing. What is up with these spy shows? And how the only thing they love more than sexy women is the spectacle of sexy women being battered, tortured and lying dead in revealing poses? Just like her predecessor, poor Jed barely gets to do anything interesting or even proactive before she is ‘found out’ and we have to endure a really queasy scene where she’s being beaten up and repeatedly almost-drowned for her treachery. As her sore, blue-purple face is thrust over and over again into the brimming bathtub and she thrashes for air, her naked breast dangles out of her top in a tactless mush of raunchy objectification and vicarious misogyny. It’s one of the most troubling things I have witnessed on telly in a good while.

Okay - there is one other woman in this show. Olivia Coleman plays the head of this secret service operation, and she is written as a fierce, ambitious agent who knows exactly what she’s doing. Oh, and she’s pregnant, so I guess we’re doing Fargo too, a bit? For the entirety of the programme, which seems to span several months, she appears to be at the end of her third trimester. No one ever asks her when she’ll be going on maternity leave and who will take over this spy operation when that happens. As part of the final showdown, she travels to the Middle East, stalks around a hotel filled with murderous gangsters, shoots people in the knee and hides from even more murderous gangsters WHILE SEEMINGLY MOMENTS AWAY FROM HER FIRST CONTRACTION.

Essentially this woman’s pregnancy is a decorative character quirk, like having an eyepatch or an eccentric moustache. The story doesn’t let the character engage with her pregnancy in any human sense: and sure, the logistics of being pregnant is not exactly thrilling espionage content, but then why bother doing it at all? Leave her unpregged, and let her run around with guns to her heart’s content, or do it properly, and engage with interesting ideas of how we see and define modern motherhood; how we see pregnant women as vulnerable and in need of protection rather than being the protectors; how a woman’s career clashes and harmonises with her biological fate to be the child-bearer. Fargo did all that stuff effortlessly. Watch Fargo. The film, not the telly programme.

I also feel that it’s worth pointing out that this character was a man in the book, which makes it pretty clear that she was the hail-mary gesture to preempt any complaints that the only female main characters are bland eye-candy.

I have one last complaint. Remember that thing I said at the beginning about how the only gay characters allowed in this genre have to be evil? Well yeah, stamp that one on your bingo card too. I cannot believe that we are at a point in society where we can generate edible meat in a lab and yet the most frequent gay characters we see in mainstream TV are still either camp BFFs or acid-tongued villains. Tom Hollander is a completely wonderful actor and I urge you to watch basically anything else he has done besides this. There is no need for this character, Hugh Laurie’s snide and suspicious right-hand man, to be a creepy, predatory homosexual man. He is preposterous - constantly leering at Tom Hiddlestone and making blunt innuendos or just full-on grabbing Tom Hiddlestone’s giblets. A clear conflation is being made: this man is a threat, and the threat he poses to Tom Hiddlestone’s mission is mirrored by the threat he poses to Hiddlestone’s hetero-masculinity, his sexual autonomy. It feels like this character is a charicature of how homophobes see all gay men: malevolent and sexually rapacious, on a mission to assault, harass and render uncomfortable all hetero men who are just minding their own business.

I truly don’t understand this show - how they made such an effort to shoehorn so much deeply troubling messaging into a story which needed none of these things. The bare bones of the spy story is solid and it could have been turned out in so many different ways, but this was what they chose. It all feels so retrograde, so unnecessary. This is the kind of thing that Netflix would not have toyed with - whatever you feel about that streaming platform, they create stories with real, three-dimensional women and all kinds of diverse characters from the LGBTQ+ scene and beyond. Amazon Prime still needs to work on getting woke. But I guess we shouldn’t expect too much from the platform that snapped up Jeremy Clarkson.

The Night Manager, available on Amazon Prime

[3milesup]

Webgott for the ship ask? I’m a sucker for them 🥺

Aah, thank you so much for the ask!! 🥺 Yeah, they are great... I hope this won’t be too off:

Who digs through the toy bin at thrift stories

 Web. He loves children, and giving them things and making them happy, one toothless grin will make his day anytime, and with Joe’s many nephews and nieces he gets quite a few of those.

 Who gives better hugs

They aren’t too compatible when it comes to hugs (are they even compatible in anything, really?!). Liebgott feels awkward about those casual hugs out of the blue, he mostly gives back an almost-bro-hug, with a pat on the back, and goes about his day. But when he feels like there’s a reason to hold David, he will hold him for dear life; for as scrawny as Joe is, he’s hella strong and for as much as he’s playing it cool, he loves Webster a lot and cares to show it at least that way, because he’s still better with embraces than with words.

 Who does absolutely nothing on a day off

Joe. What with juggling two jobs, he’s only happy to spend a day with his feet on the table, mindlessly flicking through the tv channels and eating junk snacks.

 Who prefers gold and who prefers silver

Not really huge on jewelry, these two, tbh. But Lieb does have two silver chains he won’t take off, one he had already, and one Web has bought him. And he got himself a gold watch once, in a fit of vanity, because he thought it looked super fancy spinning there in the shop window and “I deserve at least that much for working my ass off all my life, right?” Web just gave him the eyebrow of who knows they will eventually be right, and he was. The watch is chilling in Liebgott’s nightstand now, because he has enough taste not to wear it with his less-than-casual outfits neither in taxi nor in the barber shop, and if he dresses up, it is mostly to go out with Webster who a) doesn’t approve of said gold watch right from the start and b) is keeping it so lowkey-elegant that Lieb’s watch really feels over the top.

Web just wears these silver & leather bracelets. And since a certain day, a white gold ring, because silver seemed too cheap to Lieb for such occasion but he had come to understand Web really doesn’t like the look of gold, so a compromise it was. He didn’t forget to mention it was actually gold that looks like silver, not just silver; not that the teary-eyed Webster cared. He would’ve been happy with a twist tie around his finger, at the moment. (Later on, when the moment passed, he really appreciated Joe’s choice.)

Who looks better in stripes 

In Liebgott’s mind – and you won’t change it – stripes are for grandpas. He owns one striped sweater that someone gave him ages ago, tucked at the back of his closet with the tag still on it. No stripes in this household. (*he says, and then proceeds to shamelessly check out Web in his button-up with thin vertical stripes in color of his eyes because he’s quite a look, but still, stripes are just lame ok*)

Who wears “dad hats” 

Totally Lieb, and he has shifted the bill from backwards to forward over the years, but still totally rocks them. Yeah, and he wears them in the car, too, because he can’t be bothered with the visor. (He might or might not have broken it in rage over a customer a couple of times, so it’s probably better if he forgets the visor is even there. Or maybe it’s for the best if the visor in fact isn’t there.)

Who excessively quotes shows or movies 

Lieb, especially the movies and shows Webster didn’t like to piss him off. But he doesn’t even quote the movies as much as he excessively comments them. Like, replies to the characters, states the absolute obvious and makes up plot twists. (And no way in hell is Web going to admit it truly amuses him, but it does.)

David Webster comments on what he is watching only when he spots some apparent bullshit going on, because he can’t let it go unnoticed, and then he gets lost in his rant about it and misses ten minutes of the movie, then keeps asking what was happening in the meantime and gets lost in the storyline as well. (To put it simply, when you just want to chill after a long day and see things blowing up, badass guys that don’t need to reload and clichéd story that is basically a block of Emmenthaler - cheesy and filled with plot holes, Web isn’t the guy to watch it with.)

Who saves everything because “we could use it for something someday” 

Web, and deep down “using it one day” is more of an excuse for just keeping it because he gets attached to things, every trifle reminds him of something, a moment, a story, or – if he’s feeling down – just of the times when grass was greener.

 Who piles on the blankets

Not for the cold, but Joe sleeps with three, minimum, for convenience, as Web tosses and turns for the most part of the night and steals Joe’s blankets, while his own end up on the floor somewhere.

 Who drowns everything in chocolate

Liebgott, and you wouldn’t say, just by looking at him, but the guy does have a sweet tooth. Webster is more about raw fruit tarts and things of sort, a very dark chocolate at times, but Joe crams down at least a Hershey bar a day, no regrets. (Web has tried to explain to him the antioxidant benefits of cocoa and the minimum amount of it in milk chocolate, but Lieb just waved him off because he needs “sugar not some fucking antioxidants, because unlike you, Web, I am doing something,” and the good old argument about working vs. pursuing a degree full-time followed. No chocolate discussions since.)

.

Sorry, I don’t know if this is any good but yay, it was fun! Thanks! 🥰

[melodiouswhite]

Quiet

(Lady Summers, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde struggle to cope with their immortality, as their loved ones pass away one by one. But they find comfort in their friendship.)

Most people found that with the end of Victoria's reign, it was finally time for progresses that hadn't been made before.

It was December 1926 and many things had changed.

While she was all for progress, she was a child of the mid-19th century and this new era seemed so foreign to her. So fast. So fleeting. So different.

Women had won the right to vote.

Medicine progressed like never before.

The Great War had ravaged the whole world just a few years earlier and changed everything.

She still could see the scars. In form of shell-shocked soldiers, of people who found no work, because of the poor economy, of invalids, who were reduced to begging in the streets.

She had more patients than before – most of them traumatised from the War.

She had buried herself in her work as a therapist. It was all she had left.

For Lady Summers, the beginning 20th century was a time of grief. After decades of wearing no mourning attire, she had returned to wearing nothing but black.

Her villa, which she had loved ever since she had moved in, had grown quiet.

While she hadn't aged a day, her servants had and most of them had passed on by now. The fact that most of them had been her half-siblings made this even more painful.

Philippine had been the first to go.

The night nurse had always been of delicate health. So it had been no surprise, when she had succumbed to scarlet fever (proving once again, that scarlet fever was no children's disease).

Her older sister Julie had died a few years later.

One day the Frenchwoman had styled Lady Summers' hair not with her usual braids and fourragères, but with a fashionable, beautiful and complicated style. It had been the last time – a farewell gift, maybe. Aoimoku was now the one to do her hair, as the Countess hadn't hired a new stylist. It just wasn't the same.

After that, they had died like flies. Some of the losses were worse than others.

The worst was Marie.

The cheerful and hardy Austrian day nurse had been one of her closest servants and the oldest of her half-siblings. And she had been her closest confidante, even closer than Aoimoku. But tough has she was, she had been the last of her deceased servants to pass on. Just a month ago, she had died at the age of 80 – the only one of her servants to die of old age so far.

Lady Summers had sat beside her elderly younger sister's bedside, as she had died.

“I know that you have lived a long time, but it still seems too soon”, she had whispered.

Marie had laughed faintly: “Now, now. Don't be sad, because it's over. Be glad, because it happened. I'm content. It was … a beautiful life. Being your nurse … and your little sister … was more than just … a great honour. It was a gift from Heaven.”

And with a last feeble squeeze of the Lady's hand, she had fallen asleep forever, smiling.

Just the memory made the Lady's heart bleed.

Of her over a dozen servants, only three were alive now: her butler Sameer Singh, her first lady-in-waiting Kurogawa Aoimoku and her driver Sean O' Connor.

Sameer, just like herself, hadn't aged a day. She attributed that to his Rakshasa heritage. He was more demon (or spirit, or whatever those beings were) than human. But it was a comfort, that he would always be there, her loyal butler.

Aoimoku was 71 years old now, but still held herself with a unique grace, elegance and nobility. The wrinkles and the grey strands in her raven hair had in no way tarnished her beauty.

Sean had gone from being her coachman to being her chauffeur, as Lady Summers had traded her coach for a car. Probably better. He was 76 now and his hands were too stiff from rheumatism to hold reins. His red hair had grown thin. Lady Summers dreaded the day when she would no longer hear his cheerful singing and see his goofy smile.

The only other one of her half-siblings still alive, was Alma, who was now sixty years old, but had never been part of the household. The half Irish, who had once caught everyone's eye with her fire red corkscrew curls, ice blue eyes, red lips and tall and slender figure, now looked more like a crazy old witch (she was even keeping cats – Aoimoku hated them).

Lady Summers sighed.

There were other losses she hadn't recovered from – maybe never would. Coping with loss had never been her strong suit.

Most of her friends and family had passed away as well and each loss had been painful.

Of course her former father-in-law, Lord Summers, was long gone. He had lived on to eighty-two, a feisty and kind old man.

Her brothers-in-law were also gone, the last tie to her first husband.

“Say hello to my darling copperhead from me”, she had asked his oldest brother Edward, the last of them to go – a hardy gent like his father.

He had responded with a toothless laugh and a twinkle in his eye (so much like James): “Will do.”

Gabriel John Utterson, her oldest and best friend in England, had passed away of old age fifteen years ago. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, his lover(s), had been left behind to grieve.

But the worst loss was Dr. Lanyon.

Her dear soulmate.

Shortly after the incidents in 1886, they had entered a morganatic marriage with Queen Victoria's permission.

But he had been a bit older than her without having her immortality.

And he hadn't wanted to be immortal either. She had accepted and understood, but it still had broken her heart.

He had passed away in 1910 at the age of 80.

He had been long ill before, so it had only been a matter of time. He had died awake and promised her that, if rebirth really existed, he would meet her again one day.

“Auf Wiedersehen … my lady, my love, my wife …”

It had been sixteen years now and her heart was still as shattered as it had been back then.

Lady Summers didn't know the future, like her dear half-sister and her old friend.

Lanyon had always kept his promises, but the lady just didn't know, when “one day” would be.

It could be tomorrow or in a hundred years and the thought was unbearable. Worse, her old friend Johann (who now called himself John in response to the anti-German sentiment) had implied, that it was closer to being a hundred years.

So the only thing she could do was wait … and grieve.

It was so quiet in her house… so empty.

It was unbearable.

“Sahib?”

Her butler's voice tore her out of her spiral of depression.

Sameer truly had the best timing.

“What is it, Sameer?”, she asked.

“Doctor Jekyll is here to visit you”, he announced.

Suddenly she felt a surge of relief.

“Show him in then.”

The butler left the room and returned with a tall, blond Englishman.

Dr. Jekyll hadn't changed at all – he was still the dignified, handsome gentleman she had met more than forty years ago.

“Hello, Henry”, she greeted him and stood up. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

They had been on first name basis for a long time now.

“Actually, I think I do”, he replied smiling. “Hello, Luise. I would ask you, how your day has been so far, but your facial expression sort of gives it away.”

She chuckled bitterly, but invited him to sit down.

“Do you want some tea and cake?”, she asked. “It's tea time anyway.”

“Yes, please.”

Sameer saw this as his cue to make his way down to the kitchen. He returned with a full tablet for his mistress and her friend, before seeing himself out.

“Do help yourself”, she invited, “My new cook is quite a good one.”

Dr. Jekyll was obviously a bit apprehensive, when he tried the muffin, but his face brightened up quickly.

“Oh, they're scrumptious!”, he exclaimed, “Your butler must have a really good eye for picking your servants.”

“He certainly does”, the Lady agreed. “Then again, he is part Rashasa. They can see and are aware of things that are beyond human comprehension.”

Dr. Jekyll chuckled: “I remember how you and he identified the impurity in my special salt. Speaking of which, I have never thanked either of you. Had you not found out, what was different in my first badge of salt, ohhhh boy! I don't know, if Edward and I would have learned in time how to properly share control of our body. Sooner or later he would have overpowered me without even wanting to and without the proper formula, I wouldn't have been able to transform back. And what's more, you two helped me learn to shift without my formula.”

Lady Summers nodded: “Yes, that was fortunate. Don't forget to thank him personally.”

Suddenly she sensed Mr. Hyde stirring inside Dr. Jekyll's conscience.

“Did somebody say my name?”, the androgynous, guttural voice piped up.

Dr. Jekyll just rolled his eyes, but the Lady smiled lopsidedly.

“Hello, Edward. Did you sleep well?”

“Eh, it was okay. Hi, Luise.”

“Speaking of sleep”, Dr. Jekyll spoke up again, “How has yours been?”

She sighed and didn't answer.

It wasn't necessary.

After more than forty years, the Doctor knew her so well … and he was one of the few friends she had left.

His face became sombre. “It's so quiet here without Marie.”

“It is”, she whispered. “It really is. Without all of them … and so empty …”

She didn't bother keeping her act up and broke into sobbing.

“I … I miss them so!”

Soon his arms were around her and she was crying into his shoulder.

Lady Summers didn't cry often. It just wasn't in her nature.

But she had been strong for too long now.

It seemed to be the same for Dr. Jekyll; at some point she felt his body shake and knew that he – no, she could hear Hyde sob too – that they were crying with her.

This way they sat, hugging each other and crying together.

They wept for their lost loves, their dearest friends and all the other familiar faces, which had one by one faded away, wept because they could never follow (they had promised to Gabriel and Hastie, that they would never end their own lives), because almost everything they had once known and loved was gone and because all they had was each other.

Sure, there were the three alchemists and Victor and Adam and they all knew the pain of losing someone dear. But these five had chosen immortality; they had wanted it, had strove for it.

Luise and Henry had never wanted to be everlasting, had never asked for this cursed existence.

When they finally stopped and withdrew, a glance at the clock told her, that they had wept for three hours.

“Are you feeling better?”, he finally asked kindly.

She nodded and blew her nose. “A little. And you?”

“Me too”, he replied.

“Me too”, Hyde echoed from inside Jekyll's head. “Holy shit, we three really needed that, huh?”

“Indeed so”, the Lady sighed. “Listen, you two, I have never apologised.”

Dr. Jekyll tilted his head in confusion. “Apologised for what?”, he inquired.

“For doing this to you”, she explained softly. “It's my fault that you're ageless and immortal now. I know, you never asked for this cursed existence.”

He smiled gently. “Hey now. We know you didn't mean to. In this moment, our life was at stake and if it hadn't been for your blood donation (and that of Gabe and Hastie), Edward and I would have died. And maybe … maybe it was supposed to come to this. Maybe it was fate, that Edward and I should remain on this earth and keep you company, my friend. Anyhow we're both glad that we can finally return the kindness and sympathy you have given to us all these years.”

“Couldn't have said it better”, Hyde agreed.

The Countess chuckled hoarsely.

Dr. Jekyll patted her hand. “You know, I'm glad that we three are together in this. I know what loneliness feels like. But when you and I can just sit together as old friends, the silence becomes so much more bearable.”

Finally she smiled back. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

A knock on the door made them look up.

In the doorway stood Sameer, with a table cloth, and the Lady's new nurse, holding a carafe of water.

“It's time for dinner”, the butler reminded his employer and laid the table.

The day nurse nodded. “And we saw you crying earlier, so we thought you might want some water afterwards?”

Lady Summers laughed: “Thank you two, that's quite considerate. We could indeed use some food and drink. Ah, and bring a second set, Dr. Jekyll is staying for dinner.”

The two servants nodded and saw themselves out.

Dr. Jekyll turned back to the Lady. “Isn't your new day nurse the granddaughter of your hairstylist?”

“Indeed”, the Lady confirmed, “She even looks a bit like Julie. But in her personality she comes more after her grandaunt Philippine.”

The Doctor chuckled: “Mademoiselle Desmoulins never truly left you, did she?”

“No”, the Lady answered fondly. “She didn't.”

“And you know what? Perhaps your butler is right about the reincarnation thing. I think someday we will see them all again, in one form or another. We just have to wait for that to happen.”

His trusting smile warmed her to the bottom of her soul.

Yes. They just had to wait.

All of their friends and loved ones would return one day, because true friends never truly left.

And then Luise's and Henry's homes wouldn't be quiet and empty anymore.

[howtodrawyourdragon]

A Warm Snoggletog Heart

Summary: Set during RttE. The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? A celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

And this year, they have something particularly special in mind for Hiccup.  

Rating: General

Words: 1 481

Author’s Notes: Wrote this in a day because someone from a whump Discord server I'm a part of gave me the motivation for it. Usually, I wait with posting fics until the weekends, so there's a little bit of time between finishing and revising it one last time before I post it. But I wanted it out before tomorrow and since I'll probably be gone tomorrow, I decided to do it all today.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? Again, a celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

So when Snoggletog came around, Hiccup and the Dragon Riders returned home to share this time with their families only to then go back to their base away from home to share it with just each other.

It wasn't as crazy as their parents probably thought it was going to be.

Astrid used her iron fist to make sure the decorations put up were perfect and up to her standards as she and Tuffnut worked together on that. Snotlout and Ruffnut were put in charge of gathering the favorite meals of the dragons so they would have something of a feast as well. And Fishlegs was made to help Hiccup get dinner ready.

All in all, it wasn't supposed to be a big celebration. It was rather small and intimate, held in the clubhouse.

That was where they were. They'd just eaten dinner, it was time for presents.

Snotlout may have actually squealed in excitement. Astrid already promised him she would never let him live that down.

"An axe! Yes!" Astrid shouted excitedly, holding the double-headed weapon. It was much like Heather's, except more her style. Less rough and more elegant. With complimentary skulls. Her cheeks and eyes lit up.

"Oh yay! Another one!" Snotlout rolled his eyes next to her.

"Thank you, Hiccup!" She told him, though her smile was more than enough of a gift for him.

"Uh, how do you know it didn't come from us?" Ruffnut asked.

"Because it's an axe, Ruff. Do you know how to make one?" She asked, though she wasn't particularly annoyed. Her day was made.

"Heather and I actually collaborated on that one. She mentioned to me how you really wanted one like hers, so we worked on it together. We each did one half and we exchanged some secrets. Blacksmith to blacksmith. It's like a Snoggletog gift and a "thank you for letting me stay in your hut" gift combined." Hiccup explained. As Astrid took a closer look, she did see some marks she didn't recognize as made by Hiccup's hand.

So this was Heather's signature. She would remember them too.

"So... What did I get?" Fishlegs could hardly wait. He was having a hard time sitting still on his chair.

It was Snotlout who gave him his present.

"From me to you." He told him and gave it to him in the most dramatic Snotlout-esque way possible.

"Awww, thank you, Snotlout!" Fishlegs responded as he accepted the gift. It appeared to be a book. Opening it up, he found detailed sketches of plants inside and he gasped.

"Is this what I think it is?!"

"The Beauty of Botany Volume Three? That's exactly what you're looking at!" Snotlout exclaimed. It was hidden behind a smirk, but he was just as excited as Fishlegs was. Snoggletog was one of the few times a year he let his generosity shine. This side to him was exclusively for Snoggletog and birthdays only.

Fishlegs grinned from ear to ear as he skimmed through its pages. He was as happy as a Nadder at a Chicken buffet.

"So everyone's got their presents, only one victim remains." Ruffnut was particularly menacing as she spoke up, leaning on her knees with her elbows.

Snotlout's gift had been a bludgeon similar to his very first, which he had lost again. The twins had absolutely nothing to do with its disappearance, they had assured Snotlout of this.

What Tuffnut was given was something made for Chicken. It was a little custom-made bed for her because Tuff had complained about it being unfair that he got a bed, but not Chicken.

As for Ruff's gift, it was a handmade lotion of fish oil for her hair created out of rare and exotic ingredients that were quite expensive on the market. She had immediately slathered her hair with it.

Hiccup was the person she was talking about, but for once, he wasn't particularly worried. The Riders watched as Tuffnut got up to grab it.

He quickly returned with something obscured by cloth and he handed it over to Hiccup, who took it.

He stared at the gift his friends decided to give him. He was certainly curious, that was for sure. It was the only one wrapped up.

He didn't quite notice it, all of his attention was on the object held in his hands, but anticipation amongst the Riders grew. They were all sitting on the edge of their seats as they watched Hiccup unwrap it.

It turned out to be a plush toy. Of Toothless! Well, he was pretty sure it was a stuffed animal version of his Night Fury, it looked quite odd.

"It's Toothless!" He was puzzled, but he was smiling nonetheless. The Night Fury himself came over from his corner to sit closer to look at the toy when he heard his name leave Hiccup's lips. He was intrigued.

But Hiccup's smile slowly faltered as he took a closer look at Toy Toothless' oddities.

He had tiny, tiny skulls for eyes. The kind he knew only one person to wear, except they were even smaller. He recognized Snotlout's stitching. The "hide" was knitted patches of black wool. Toothless' "nubs" were braided in a very specific way. And if he had to guess, the stuffing must be chicken feathers.

That's when it hit him.

His friends had made this for him. All of them had left their marks on it. This was something they worked on together. For him!

He was speechless.

"Take another look at the skulls." Hiccup didn't know when his friends decided to move in behind him, but he noticed when Astrid spoke up and pointed towards the plush's eyes. He did as he was told and saw that they were painted a dark green. Forest green.

"Do you think he realizes we made it for him?" Tuffnut asked his sister in whispers loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Oh yeah, I think he does." Ruffnut replied, proud of herself. Her arms were crossed in fulfillment.

As Hiccup looked at its eyes, there was one more detail on the doll left for him to find out.

Turning it slightly, he noticed that his emblem had been stitched onto it.

They had all put little bits and pieces of themselves in the toy and they made sure a little bit of Hiccup was in there as well.

"We saw that you brought the toy your mom made you to the Edge and thought "Hey! You like that one! Why not make another one?" So we did!" Snotlout explained. It looked like he'd been waiting to do so.

The Riders had expected many different reactions from Hiccup. Long ago, when the idea had first struck them, they even decided to take a bet and see who could nail their leader's reaction.

They hadn't expected him to cry.

Tears spilled from his eyes and he sniffed. His smile was the biggest they'd ever seen on his face.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked, hands on his shoulders. Hiccup let his head hang as a single sob escaped.

"Oh no, we broke him!" Tuffnut loudly exclaimed with his hands on his helmet. Ruffnut smacked him hard.

"Look what you've done to him!" She accused him of an utmost heinous crime. Snotlout came and banged their helmets together.

"Ugh, muttonheads!"

Maybe it was all the stress getting to him or maybe he truly was that touched by their gesture, but Hiccup couldn't help himself.

"Hiccup?"

"I'm-I'm fine, guys. I'm fine." The level of control in his voice backed it up.

"I'm just... I'm just really touched, I..." He tried wiping his cheeks dry with his sleeves, but it was useless.

Smiling sympathetically, Astrid bend down to wrap her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug. The waterworks were going with her too, albeit slightly less than they were with Hiccup.

"So sensitive!" Snotlout complained with a shake of his head, even though he jumped on the chance to share a group hug with the rest of the Riders. He grabbed both Astrid and Hiccup into a hold that was more of a headlock than an actual hug. They laughed.

"Ah-ha! A way to fix this!" Tuffnut joked and embraced the three of them. Huffing, Ruffnut joined in.

"Oh, you guys!" Fishlegs spoke and completed the hug by wrapping his arms around the entire group.

All of them smiled, nobody let go. The toy dragon his mother made for him so long ago now had a friend. And Hiccup, he found this to be the warmest Snoggletog yet.

[iamnotbrianmay]

in the arms of life and death

Hi, its me, since I couldn't physically stop myself from writing another fanfic when this idea came to life I was forced by my brain to write and post this chapter. Now I'm writing two fanfics, which is great if you ask me. Less time to do homework, more time to write!

I hope you like this one, its a very weird concept I have had for three days, now its written down and I am shaking with terror about your reactions.

Description: Roger Meddows Taylor is born with blood in his hands and death in his heart. An unbreakable curse with the lamest silver lining he had ever heard of— he had a soulmate. A single soul made just for him to love, cherish, and be happy with.

What a load of bullshit. How could he be happy with anyone if anything he touches will surely die?

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep.

Roger Meddows Taylor is born with blood in his hands and death in his heart.

The doctors treat him with utmost care, making sure that his head is held upright, his skin is cleaned from all blood, and he is wrapped tightly in a bundle of warm blankets. However, they type his birthmark into the system with anger, because people start pitying and being angry in Roger's behalf from the moment he is born.

His mother cries once he is taken into his father's arms and she is sure she won't drop him. The Hemlock which adorns his skin is nearly a death sentence, and ironically it's the most beautiful flower mark anyone had ever seen. It blooms right above Roger's heart, a bunch of delicate and elegant buds which looked as if the most talented painter in the world had taken hours to draw.

Of course, it's only right that the most terrible curses get the most beautiful flowers.

His father holds him tight against his chest, cooing at the newly born and blinking back the tears. The five-leaved clover that covered Michael's heart burning; taunting him with his never-ending bad luck. Luck that had passed down to his baby.

The blond boy gurgled, and Michael let out a soft sob. A single tear fell onto the boy's cheek, and the doctors left the trio to grieve alone. It was then that Michael Taylor started begging for his son's forgiveness, even if the boy was too small to even understand what was being said to him.

I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow,

In the beginning, and for a long time, Roger remained giftless.

He is still branded as a Cursed, though, and forced to go to a school meant for Cursed children only, until his gift shows. At first, he has dozens of friends, his toothless grin and charismatic personality does wonders for him. He goes around charming students and teachers alike, and by the end of the first semester, there is barely a Friday afternoon in which he finds himself at home.

But things inevitably change, and the first one to go is a little girl called Rosa. She had a mane of red hair, and a grin that makes every boy and girl fall in love with her. They are all sitting in a classroom, attentively listening as their teacher reads a book about a lost bird trying to find his family when Rosa asks the question that changes everything.

"Miss Pearl?"

"Yes, Rosa?"

"Can I sit in your lap?"

"Of course, Rosa. Anything for my favourite girl."

It's a simple request, something that shouldn't have sent alarms ringing, but suddenly the class is buzzing with anger. Shouts and complains ring all over the room and poor Rosa is left in the middle of the chaos, with fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Roger is the only one unaffected by the gift, he has never been and will never be a jealous person. He looks around the room as children jeered and insulted Rosa until his head feels like it's about to explode and his ears are ringing. He grabs Rosa's hand and runs out of the classroom, ignoring the screams from their teacher.

Once they are alone, sitting on the lid of one of the boy's bathrooms, Roger urges Rosa to show him her flower. All of their flowers are well-kept secrets, only meant to be spoken out loud once their time comes, intended to warn or guide people once their gift showed.

Hesitantly she lowered the hem of her yellow, cotton, dress and Roger let out a soft 'oh' once he saw the mark.

"Hyacinth bloom." She whispered, lisp making it hard to pronounce the name correctly.

"Jealousy."

She nodded and let the hem settle back to its original state. He gathered a little bit of toilet paper and dried her tears, the ones that were still falling after the stressful event.

"My mom says it's not our fault when our gift makes people act differently." He tried to comfort her, but her bright eyes look weary.

"Is it because your flower is similar to mine?"

Roger freezes. He is barely six years old, barely over his toddler-age; he should be innocent and believe that maybe his flower wasn't as bad as people thought it would be. But he had stubbornly learned how to read to find out more about his condition, and had heard his mother crying through the thin walls of the house.

He looked at her in the eyes and shook his head, trusting the little girl with the only piece of information he was allowed to give at that moment, "No. It's much worse."

The next morning Rosa had already been transferred to a school for the gifted, and people had come to explain that every single one of them was going to be transferred unless their gifts proved too dangerous to be around other children. The lecturer's eyes zeroed in on Roger, even if he had no idea of what Roger's gift might be, it felt like a premonition of the years to come.

I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.

He is the last one to get his gift.

The classrooms became smaller, the lectures more private, and soon only he and three other people were left out of a class of nearly seventy children.

They are trying to complete a science experiment, and Roger doesn't fail to notice how he is the only one in the classroom that doesn't need to wear thick leather gloves. The other three people had been cursed with the gift of Bellwort, Holy, and Marigold, and therefore had been deemed too dangerous to be around other children until they were at least fourteen years old.

The day starts like any other, he laughs with Khandra, makes fun of Luis, and nearly gets into a row with Anthony, before his gift gets revealed.

He sticks his hand into the fish tank, trying to catch one of the slowpokes to test their experiment, but when he puts the fish back into the water, it dies immediately.

Roger frowns and pokes at the floating fish with one of his slender fingers, then watches horrified as the meat rots under his touch and falls away, leaving only the skeleton. The other children jump back, trying to put as much distance between Roger and themselves, and he doesn't blame them.

The teacher watches as the chaos unfolds and locks the door. He manages to calm down the three other children in the room and then zeroes in on Roger, who is holding his hands as far away from his body as he can.

The teacher, a balding man with soft brown eyes, kneels in front of Roger and talks him into a state of faux calm that is bound to break at any moment.

"Roger, can you show me your flower?"

The blond shakes his head, as fat tears roll down his cheeks.

"Can you tell me what the flower is, then?"

Another shake of his head, and more tears rolling down his face. He looks back at the fish tank, watching as the remaining flesh drifted to the bottom of the tank.

"Can I call your parents?"

Roger is hesitant, seemingly speechless for the first time since he learned how to talk, but then he nods. The man takes out his phone and dials his mother's number. The conversation is short and grim, and once his teacher is turned back to Roger the older man is looking at him with pity in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Roger."

The tears won't stop coming, and his teacher's eyes are misty.

"I'm so sorry, sweet boy."

He braces himself for the hug that he knows his teacher is prone to giving, but instead, Mr Amourne takes a step back and runs towards the door, screaming at his colleagues for help. He is left standing in the middle of the classroom, alone, terrified, and confused, waiting for something that would never come.

When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.

Roger Meddows Taylor never gets to leave the school for the Cursed.

He grows into a beautiful young man, and his teachers do everything to the best of their abilities to make him as smart as he is good-looking. He teaches some classes for the younger children in his spare time, takes music lessons to drown out his boredom— and grows talented at the art of not touching people.

His gloves help him in unavoidable situations, as does his thick clothing. But for the most part, Roger Meddows Taylor hasn't touched a single living human for more than a fleeting moment since he was nine and a half years old. In fact, he can't even remember what it felt like.

His mother hasn't combed his long blond hair in years, his parents' lips haven't peppered his face with kisses since the morning before the accident, and he has had to sleep alone in cold winters for ten years and counting.

The gloves help with almost everything, including things like his passion for banging the shit out of drums and his ironic talent of gardening. What they don't help with is with his parents' near-constant pity party of their first born.

They only served to worsen it.

They watched with sad eyes as Clare, their beautiful Crocus blessed Clare, took the mantle of the charismatic child. They observed as day after day as she bloomed and he withered.

And when the time came for him to leave school, they had to watch Roger, their Roggie, fall apart.

His already brittle soul chipping away as each of the people he had grown used too wished him the best in life, bowing before him like he was something holy, worthy of admiration. Which in his mother's eyes he was.

Roger, however, hated it when people bowed to him. It was a constant reminder of the fear he had placed in all of their hearts, of the terror they had of what lived inside his veins and was tattooed upon his chest.

But he accepted it, nonetheless, knowing that was the most he was ever going to get, and bowed back.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

The day he meets Freddie is the happiest day of Roger's life.

It's the first day he has ever been out of his house in months, and he is headed to one of his teacher's art exposition. An extravagant event hosted by the same woman who had once taught him how to draw people with their hands entwined, or in the middle of a passionate kiss. He wouldn't miss it for the world.

He walks into the gallery with his best suit, thickest long coat, stunning sapphire tie, and his trusty black, leather, gloves. He fits right into the scene for the first time in a while, and he even allows himself to loosen up. He drinks one flute of champagne, knowing precisely what would happen if he drank more and walks around the gallery, engaging in conversation with whoever is brave enough to get close to the Child of Death,as they had nicknamed him a few years prior.

He still didn't allow himself to brush with people, expertly dodging and slithering between crowds to avoid contact. And people, upon seeing his face made way.

But something was inevitably bound to happen.

And while he weaved his way through the crowd, twirling and ducking to avoid contact, he ended up crashing into someone.

Fear gripped his heart in a vice grip as he landed on the floor. He scrambled to his elbows as fast as possible and saw that the person he had crashed into, a thin boy with raven black hair, was looking at him with wide eyes. They stared at each other, waiting for the worst to happen, before the other boy spoke.

"Jump up and down and twirl around."

The body-numbing fear was instantly replaced by endless amounts of confusion. Roger made a face, shook his head as if trying to see if the boy was real, and then rubbed his eyes for good measure. "What?"

The relief that rolled of the other man was palpable, "Oh thank God, I thought I had touched you."

It was only then that Roger noticed the thick leather gloves on the man's hands, and the Wax plant pin attached to his coat.

"Sorry for the weird first impression, by the way, I'm Freddie Bulsara, Susceptibility."

Roger raised his eyebrows, "Not scared flaunt your curse, I see."

Freddie shrugged, "Better to warn people before they get a nasty surprise. My gift is something you can't quite shake off."

Roger eyed the boy with curiosity, taking in his white tuxedo and silver coat. He scanned the flawlessly applied makeup, the hundreds of necklaces and chokers he was sporting, and the gorgeous Wax plant pin made out of crystals. He also admired the way that he was laying on the floor, talking with a random stranger about the bane of their existence while looking like he did just that every single day.

"Roger Taylor, Death," he said while fiddling with the cuff of his coat, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Do not stand at my grave and cry,   I am not there; I did not die.

         - Mary Elizabeth Frye

Okay so the flowers mentioned in this chapter (and their meanings) are:

Hemlock - You will cause my death Five-leaved clover - Bad Luck Hyacinth - Jealousy, sorrow Bellwort - Hopelessness Holly - Am I forgotten? Marigold - Cruelty Crocus - Cheerfulness Wax Plant - Susceptibility

Comments and Feedback are highly appreciated! In fact, I am a slut for comments! If you want to be added to the tag list, just send me a small message! I love you all, hope you enjoyed it! 

[glassnightfury]

Cry Havoc Chapter 2: If You Could See Me (Part I)

ao3 || fanfiction

previous

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III is a normal 17-year-old. If you don’t count the missing leg. Or his father, the sheriff. Or the strange dog he found in the woods. Or the strange man he met in the woods (really, anything he did in the woods). Or the family secrets he just can’t seem to put together. Or the mysterious disappearance of his mother 16 and half years ago. Or the cryptic veterinarian family friend that keeps showing up in the strangest of places. Or how wild he gets around a full moon.

So, maybe not so normal.

Hiccup hears the crackle of his father's police radio echo through the house.

"All available units to New Berk Preserve, we got a 10-54," the dispatcher recites in the same dispassionate tone she's always had. "Be advised, only half has been found."

Any internal battle Hiccup would have had about following his father into the woods again ends before it begins. Dead body in the woods. Missing half.

The full moon's light streams through Hiccup's window brightly enough he doesn't need to turn on his lamp. Toothless stirs from his bed when Hiccup starts to roll on his prosthetic liner, a telltale sign of trouble at this hour. He grumbles and stretches more luxuriously than a 177-pound tripodal behemoth should be able to before he gets up. He finds Hiccup's jeans from yesterday abandoned at the foot of the four-poster bed. With a flick of Toothless's head, the jeans fly and hit Hiccup square in the face as he's wiggling the air out of his prosthetic socket.

"Thanks, bud," Hiccup says, uncaring of Toothless's attitude. He yanks his jeans on, only taking care with the magnetic closure on the inseam around his prosthesis. Toothless's nails click-clack against the hardwood floor, and the bright red service dog harness lands beside him on the bed before he can jam his foot into his adidas high top.

They both freeze when they hear Stoick's heavy footsteps pass the bedroom door. His normally booming voice is as hushed as he can make it as he relays instructions to his deputies over the phone. The front door opens and shuts, and they spring back into action, their routine practiced and precise from the go-bag in the back of the closet to the jeep keys hanging by the door.

The jeep awaits them as it always does, and they take off.

Hiccup parks a mile away from the entrance. Toothless has his head sticking out the window, and he's scenting the air before the jeep is even parked.

The search dogs bark restlessly at the main gate, but Toothless doesn't waver from his task of leading Hiccup through the trees. It's an exercise of trust. Hiccup's flashlight serves only to illuminate twigs or stones that would pull his legs out from under him. The leash hooks them together at the belt and the harness. He's not quite sure what scent they're following—for all he knows, it could be a rabbit or squirrel—but feeling the uncharacteristically cool air settle around them in a fine mist is liberating enough that he can't bring himself to care.

Toothless leads him onto an old path, well-worn but overgrown and blocked in places. It strikes a chord of remembrance that Hiccup can't place. They keep walking, the voices of the search party growing quieter and quieter behind them. Toothless is determined, but at every obstacle he turns to watch Hiccup pass it successfully. The house at the end of the trail knocks Hiccup breathless.

"More of a mansion, really," he says to Toothless, but he doesn't bother to explain the root of the thought. Its walls are charred black, the glass of the windows shattered and boarded up. The roof slopes down in the middle, and an assortment of lichens and mosses are splotched around. "At least it used to be."

Toothless whirls around, a growl starting deep within him and pointed at something behind Hiccup, leaving him scrambling to find the source of Toothless's ire.

"This is private property, kid," a voice says from within the thicket. A tall, dark-haired man maybe a handful of years older than Hiccup himself steps out, and a spark of recognition ignites in the back of Hiccup's mind, although he's sure he would remember someone with a face tattoo.

"Sorry," Hiccup says in his best unassuming voice. "We're just looking for something."

"I'll bet you are," the man scoffs, and it's an accusation.

Toothless growls again, tugging at the lead with his hackles up and his head lowered. He puts himself between Hiccup and the man, who seems unconcerned with the fierce protectiveness of the unholy offspring of a Newfoundland and a German Shepherd. When Toothless glances back to make sure Hiccup is safely behind him, Hiccup swears he sees those strange green eyes glowing.

"Is that thing always like this?" the man asks with a scowl.

"Where are our manners? I'm Hiccup Haddock," he says wryly, noting the recognition in his eyes at his last name, "and this is Toothless." He gestures to him in a dramatized sweep.

"Hmm. He definitely has teeth." The man's eyes never leave Toothless.

"So everyone reminds me."

"Eret," Eret says after a beat. "Eret Eretson."

Hiccup resists the urge to comment on his name. It has never worked out well for him. The name Eretson, however, rings a bell strongly enough to jog a memory of his father's work.

"Eretson, like the Eretson House fire?" he asks. Eret's face screws farther into its scowl, etching heavy creases.

"What's it to you, Haddock?" Eret spits his name at his feet like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "You think I don't know exactly who your daddy is?"

His hostility is matched when Toothless doubles down, but Eret steps forward anyway, backing him up into Hiccup's legs.

"You think I don't know exactly what—" he cuts off with a heavy sniff. "Does your father know you're a werewolf?"

"A—what?" Hiccup splutters.

Eret's hazel eyes change in an instant, glowing a bright ice blue. Hiccup freezes. Eret bares his teeth to reveal fangs where Hiccup was sure human teeth had been before. He feels Eret's growl deep in his chest. It bores a hole in his gut, and he can feel his own teeth changing in his mouth.

As quickly as the confrontation begins, it's over. Eret steps back again and pulls his phone out of his pocket, holding the camera in front of Hiccup. His teeth match Eret's, but his eyes glow yellow-gold instead of blue.

"A werewolf," Eret says. His head snaps to his left, and Toothless redirects his anger to exactly where Eret is looking. "You don't know how to fight, do you?" His voice curls up hopefully.

"Fight what?" Hiccup feels panic spread through him while he touches the tips of his fangs—his fangs—and his feet unfreeze, but the only thing he can do is take a couple steps back from Eret, pulling Toothless with him. There's a black smoky mist rising from his fur, leaving Hiccup to wonder just how many pieces of the puzzle he'd been missing.

"Untie the dog."

"What? Why?" He knows he sounds stupid, but his head is spinning from all the information being hurled at him at once.

"He'll protect you."

Against his better judgement, Hiccup listens. Before he can consider regretting that decision, a huge black creature with glowing red eyes stalks out of the thicket. The roar it gives is ten times more powerful than Eret's. Hiccup's feels his fingernails turning into claws.

"What is that?" he asks around his fangs.

"An Alpha," Eret says. "An angry one. Run."

Before he gets the chance, the monster rushes at him. The impact knocks him back hard into a tree. As the monster gears up to attack again, Toothless and Eret launch themselves at it in a strangely elegant attack.

"Run, kid!" Eret shouts.

Hiccup obeys.

Hiccup's heart pounds in his ears. His legs move far more quickly than they ever have before. His body feels brand new to him, but he doesn't take the time to revel in it as he escapes. He becomes aware of Toothless catching up to him, and he allows the relief to pour over him. A tree branch comes up too quickly for him to dodge, and the shoe on his prosthesis catches underneath it, sending him sprawling into an all-too-familiar gully.

When his eyes open, he is face-to-face with the clouded, unseeing eyes and frozen slack jaw of a corpse. He can't stifle the yelp that escapes him. Toothless completely ignores the body—or rather, the half body—as he pulls Hiccup up by the backpack, helping him to right himself. With Toothless helping, it takes seconds to get out of the gully that Hiccup never would have escaped if he were on his own. Such are the benefits of having a service dog bigger and strong than it's 'master,' Hiccup supposes as Toothless barks a clear hurry up message at him.

The search party gets louder and closer as they run, but Hiccup's adrenaline is starting to flag. His body is giving out. He needs to stop. Toothless keeps going as Hiccup leans against a tree, sinking down to the ground. He thinks he must have blacked out for a second, because when he opens his eyes, Toothless is licking his face.

And his father is standing over him.

"Hey, Dad," he huffs, still out of breath. He points back where they came from. "I found the other half of the body. It's that way." His dad just scowls.

"You're grounded, Hiccup."

The first day of school is always a rough one for Hiccup and Toothless. As if it weren't enough that he has to tell every freshman in the school not to pet his service dog, everyone else seems to forget the rule as well. Toothless, for his part, is not particularly amenable to being touched by anyone that's not Hiccup while he's working, and most of the time his cat-like glares are enough to put them off when he's curled around Hiccup's shoes.

This one is a whole new ballgame. They're both exhausted from the night before, and Hiccup is still reeling. It takes everything he has not to excuse himself to the bathroom just to watch his fangs and claws protract and retract over and over and over, and first hour hasn't even begun yet.

A phone rings when he sits down for first period English, and its shrill notes drill into his brain. None of the students filing in seem to even notice as he searches for the source of the pain, and even Toothless is unbothered as he sits watch. The ringing stops mid-melody.

"Three calls on my first day is a bit much, Mom," a girl's voice says breezily. Movement outside the window catches Hiccup's eye, and he spots Astrid Hofferson sitting outside on the bench. Talking on the phone. He doesn't believe he's really hearing her until she digs around in her bag. "Ugh," she says into the phone, and he can see her mouth form the words. "I can't believe I seriously forgot a pen on my first day. No, please don't drive down here. I gotta go, Mom, love you."

"Mr. Haddock," Mrs. Ack calls. "Something interesting out there?" Hiccup's face catches fire. On the chalk board is written "Kafka's Metamorphosis," and he realizes he missed the bell and the greeting.

"Uh, no, ma'am,' he says. "Sorry."

The class is well into the syllabus when the door opens to reveal Astrid with the vice principal. Hiccup is well into not paying attention, but he tunes in when he sees her.

"Class," the vice principal says, "this is Astrid Hofferson. Some of you may already know her."

And Hiccup tunes out again, his eyes never leaving Astrid's face. She catches him staring, but before he can look away, she smiles at him. The only open seat is right in front of him.

He holds up an extra pen in front of her as she sets her notebook on the desk. Her smile burns a hole in his brain.

"Thanks," she whispers, and he just catches the tail end of her confused face before he goes back to pretending to take notes.

Maybe this won't be all bad, he thinks.

Astrid's locker is, of course, right between Ruffnut's and Snotlout's. Hiccup watches from his own locker as she falls right back in with them as if no time has passed since third grade.

"Hey, Astrid," Snotlout says, "the lacrosse team has a party every Friday night at the twins' house. You wanna come?" Hiccup nearly jumps out of his skin when it sounds like they're right next to him.

"I wish I could," Astrid answers. "Friday is family night."

"She's been back, what, five minutes?" Fishlegs says next to Hiccup. "And they're already all chummy again. How's that?"

"Cause she's pretty and perfect and Astrid," Hiccup replies distractedly.

"Oh, come on," Fishlegs whines. "You're not still crushing on her, are you?" Hiccup scrunches up his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lies. "Are you gonna be home tonight? I've got a project I want to run by you."

"After lacrosse practice. You can wait if you want. How do you have a project already? It's the first day."

"It's a personal thing." Hiccup finally breaks his gaze off Astrid to look at Fishlegs, who snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Okay, weirdo."

The paint on the lacrosse field is all but gone, but the bleachers have a fresh coat of currant red over the designs in preparation for the upcoming season. Hiccup sits on the edge sketching in a notebook, and Toothless lounges belly-up. His harness lays forgotten by Hiccup's backpack.

Before he lost his leg, Hiccup was on the lacrosse team. He never played in a real game except when they were winning by an insane margin, and he only joined to impress his father. The amputation provided a convenient excuse to quit playing a game that had given him several broken bones.

"Hey," Astrid's voice says beside him. "Is this seat taken?" He freezes.

"Uh," he drones. "Yeah, uh, I mean, no, it's free. Not taken. Totally available for whoever wants to—"

"Great," she cuts him off. If she hadn't, he knows he would have kept going. "I kind of need to talk to you."

"Me?" he squeaks. She's just as beautiful as he remembers—more so, probably, and it throws him off.

"Who else?"

"Uh…"

"That was rhetorical, Hiccup," she says, and she's smiling. It knocks the wind out of him. Her hair is white-gold in the sunlight and her eyes the color of his aunt's hydrangea. He's aware that his answering smile is probably—no, definitely—totally dorky. "I just wanted to thank you, again." Toothless wakes up with a jolt and wiggles his way to his feet ridiculously, pushing his head into Astrid's lap. Her laugh sounds like music.

"Thank me?" He snaps out of his daze. Her nose crinkles for half a second.

"Yeah, I mean, if you hadn't gone looking for me that night, I probably would've, like, died of exposure, or something, so," she keeps going, but Hiccup just watches the way her words shape her face, the way her freckles move with her lips until what she's saying dawns on him.

"You were the jogger in the woods two years ago," he realizes. Her posture deflates. She grimaces.

"Yeah," she says with a frown. "And if they hadn't found you, they wouldn't have found me. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have lost your leg." Hiccup thinks about it for a second.

"I wouldn't have Toothless, either," he reasons. Toothless is still trying to wriggle onto Astrid's lap subtly, as if he isn't approximately a million times her size. She laughs again. "I'd trade a leg for him any day. All three of us were in the woods that night. We all needed help. It was just the universe working out for us."

"Look out!" Fishlegs calls from the field, and time slows down. The ball is headed straight for Astrid's face, but Hiccup has all the time in the world to catch it. It's almost too easy. His hand stops the ball two inches from her nose. Her jaw drops, her hand finding its way to his shoulder. A current runs between them, pulling them in closer together. She glances at the watch on her wrist and snaps to attention.

"I have to go," she says, standing up suddenly. "My mom's picking me up, like, three minutes ago."

"Wait, Astrid!" Hiccup calls as she starts away. She turns. "Can you get out of family night on Friday? I hear there's a party."

She grins, and he grins back.

"Family night was a lie," she admits. He raises his eyebrows in expectation. "Pick me up at seven."

[harleyquilt]

Through The Years

Summary: A trip through the many years of the Kaneki family at snapshots of their lives whilst Touken watch their family mature. 

Words: 4144

Notes: So this is for my really wonderful and perfect friend @beneybunny. I actually wrote this as thanks to a favour, but since I’m a lazy and terrible friend, this is now her late birthday present. The fic itself is just really fluffy and silly and I hope you enjoy it! 

It was a quiet morning, as tranquil and lazy as any morning could be really. Kaneki opened his eyes slowly to find himself alone in his bed and sitting up, rubbing his eyes, he heard Touka’s soft whisperings from Ichika’s room. He smiled to himself and leaned back, eyes glancing to his opened window where he could see the wide and vast countryside field nearby. The almost picturesque scenery was nothing compared to the city, which was still in shambles from the attack almost a year ago. He visited there often, the image of the ruins and crumbled buildings and roads were engraved into his mind as a reminder of his actions and despite the pain it brought to remind him of the damage he afflicted, it also reminded him of what he had now; a chance to start again and redeem himself with a beautiful family to support him whenever. Whether he deserved it or not he wasn’t sure, he just knew he couldn’t let this opportunity pass because he was busy wallowing in self-pity.

“Oh, you’re awake, sleepyhead.” Touka smiled and she leaned against the doorframe to their room, cradling their small baby girl in her arms. “I was just feeding our little sleepyhead here, I’ll make you some coffee in a minute.”

“Don’t trouble yourself.” He insisted as he got up, heading over to her side where he gave her a quick peck on her cheek and leaned down to do the same to Ichika. He caressed Touka’s cheek and she smiled warmly, their eyes on each others. He then looked down, feeling Ichika tug at his shirt and carefully taking her from Touka’s arms, he lifted her up, watching her give him a wide toothless smile.

“What a beautiful smile our princess has!” Kaneki beamed and lowering her, she pinched his cheeks, giggling. “It’s as beautiful as the queens’.”

Touka slapped his shoulder lightly, heading off to make his coffee as he continued to play with Ichika. She was so perfect, a mix of both him and Touka in her features: she had Touka’s eyes and his grey colour, Touka’s face with those chubby cheeks and his...hair? Actually, the hair left him baffled more than anything. He knew Haise was his own person in a sense, but this simply didn’t make sense. Touka seemed completely fine, if anything more amused, at the ‘sesame pudding’ hair she ended up having, yet Kaneki couldn’t help but consider this as Haise’s last act of revenge for disposing him back into the tormenting depths of his own mind. Nonetheless, he loved her regardless of her looks - she’d be perfect no matter the appearance.

At the minute, she was only a few months old, and Kaneki was always chuffed at how tiny she turned out to be. He never held a baby before - never had the opportunity to - and when he held Ichika for the first time...He almost squealed at the sight of her. Everything about her was so tiny, especially her hands that’d barely wrap around his pinkie finger. She was so warm too and he felt completely at peace when he simply sat and held her in his arms, talking to her softly about how much he loved her and of all the things he’d do for her once she grew up some more. She watched him with wide eyes as he headed over to Touka, showering his child with kisses as he smelled the sweet fragrance of the coffee Touka made for him.

“She’s such a happy baby.” Touka commented, taking a sip of her own coffee and she leaned against the counter. “She especially loves that apple mush Yoriko told me to feed her. She threw it all over me yesterday.” She shuddered at the memory. “I can still smell that disgusting scent of it even now.”

“Hey, you eat apples too.” Kaneki chuckled as he set down Ichika onto her cushioned seat nearby, giving her a toy to chew on. He gathered Touka into his arms and embraced her tightly, pressing his lip to the top of her head. “If you want I can give you more of that cake again. Kimi did say we had to adapt our palates if we want to change our diets. I’ll do it with you if you want.”

“Please, it’s enough just smelling the stuff as it if. Give me a break.” They stayed still for a brief moment, Touka letting out a low sigh as she listened to his slow heartbeat. After a quiet moment like this, she looked up to watch the scar that went down from his eyes, like black tears had stained his cheeks. “Hm, they’re not fading it seems. Or at least not completely.” His smile dropped then and her fingers lightly traced the marks, her eyes wide and curious. “Not that I’m complaining, they look pretty cool. They don’t hurt, do they?”

He shook his head and turned to kiss each finger tip. He knew she’d have no issues with his appearance. As she said, she’d love him even if his hands were covered in scales or if he had no arms at all. Still, he wanted to be proud to stand by someone as elegant and beautiful as her, even if his insecurities were simply silly concerns. Ah, but no matter; her words always gave him the comfort he needed and he took a deep breath, his smile returning as he allowed himself to take in those words.

“I wonder how I'll explain it to Ichika.” They both looked back at their daughter, who was banging her toy against her seat with some annoyance. “Don't worry so much about it.” Touka reassured, pulling away and patting his head. “She'll think they're cool too.”

“You really think so?” Kaneki chuckled, grabbing his drink.

“I know so.”

. . .

Ichika stuck her tongue out as she concentrated on her reflection. Her mother's makeup bag was tipped over and all the different brushes and ‘clippy boxes’ (as she liked to call them) were scattered across the dresser table. She held the black pencil in her hand, turning it this way and that. She really didn't understand how this wasn't used for colouring, but considering how she saw her mama draw with it under her eyes, it must be to draw pictures on skin instead of paper. With a confirmed nod and smile, she silently christened this pencil as the ‘body drawer thingy.’

Touka sat besides Kaneki at the dining table as they looked through different holiday locations through the travel magazine they held between them. They were in the midst of arguing whether to go with Kaneki's suggestion and go to Rome for a romantic getaway or to go with Touka's choice of Disney World.

“Look, maybe we can go to both.” Touka suggested with some mild frustration. “We're getting Tsukiyama to pay anyway.”

“Touka-chan, we can't make him pay for us for the sixth time.” Touka raised a brow in confusion as to why they couldn't. He sighed and was and was about to protest once again before they heard a loud tumble in their room. “Ichika! What are you doing?”

She came running in quickly, a slight skip in her step and a beaming smile. There were dark streaks of black pencil across her cheek under her ghoul eye, mimicking Kaneki's scars. She also drew a nice flower on her other cheek and head with lipstick, her artist skills apparent.

“I'm just like papa! I'm just like papa!” She jumped onto his lap, knocking the air out of him and both he and Touka looked at one another - they didn't know whether to feel heartwarmed or angry at their child. Touka was now growing more concerned at the noise she heard in her room just before.

“Don't I look just like him?” Ichika asked her mum with bright eyes, shaking her dad by the shoulders. “Don't I look cool?”

Kaneki felt his eyes water with tears and he lifted her up, a sappy smile on his quivering lips. She giggled as he hugged her tightly, all anger vanished with his pride and relief. Cool! She called him cool! She was truly the most perfect daughter.

“Don't coddle her! Do you even realise-”

“You, my beautiful princess, are getting cookies today.” Kaneki declared, Ichika and him cheering loudly whilst he stood up. Touka only stared in disgust. “And the queen gets cookies too!”

“We all get cookies!”

Kaneki, despite the joy he had felt in that moment, had not considered the lecture he would receive that night as his wife punished him by making him clean up all the mess in their room. And no, she didn't forgive him even after the cookies.

. . .

“He's so small.” Ichika cocked her head to one side as she stared perplexed at her baby brother her mother held in her arms. His face scrunched up every now and again, his tiny pouty lips opening and closing with quiet whimpers. “Is he even alive?”

“Of course he is, silly.” Kaneki sat besides Touka, admiring their newly born child with his daughter. He couldn't seem to stop hugging his wife, kissing her all over with his head leaned against hers.

Ichika, with her eyes narrowing, leaned forward to examine her brother's face. He wasn't quite exactly how she imagined him to be. After all, she did write that letter to the baby factory with specific instructions on how to design him. However, when she felt her brother squeeze her finger, which seemed so much larger compared to his whole hand, her lips parted and she smiled a gappy smile. Kissing his head, she commented how he would make an ‘adeequit’ brother for her, Touka and Kaneki offering her warm smiles.

“What's his name?” Ichika asked, knowing how her parents were still indecisive, even as they were going out the door to the hospital, otherwise known as the baby factory.

Touka smiled smugly at her husband, who nudged her playfully, knowing she was all too proud at being the one to pick the name.

“Well, it's-

. . .

Asuka!” Ichika stormed down the hallway to his room, slamming her fist against her brother's door. “Get the hell out of there, you rat! I know you're the one who broke my ant farm. Open up!”

“I didn't mean to, they just scared me and I panicked!” His usually small and timid voice yelled back, his back against the door. He knew she could, and probably would, easily break it down though. “It's not my fault you're a weirdo!”

“You shouldn't have even went into my room.” She hissed, slamming his door again. “You won't know fear until I get my hands on-”

Touka cleared her throat behind Ichika, who froze with her body now tensed up. Slowly, the girl turned around with an apologetic smile and her hands raised in hopes that her surrender would elicit mercy. Her mother had this cold stare that chilled Ichika to the bone and her arms remained crossed, an unnerved frown on her face. Asuka started to chuckle when he heard her silence, but continued to keep his door locked.

Touka took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Now.” Ichika almost flinched, her lips pressed together. “What's happening here?”

“W-Well, you see, mama-”

“She threatened to kill me. Her own flesh and blood!” Asuka yelled from behind his door, Ichika’s head turning back with an appalled scowl at her snitch of a brother. “He broke my ant farm!” Ichika quickly added, pointing accusingly at his door.

And just like that, they broke out into another argument. Touka sighed as she rubbed her temples, Kaneki soon joining her. He stared for a moment, feeling a sense of deja vu from seeing this sceme from only a few hours ago.

“Alright!” Touka yelled, making them all jump. “Asuka, you better get your ass out here and apologise to your sister and Ichika!” Ichika flinched, silently pleading for her father's aid. But he was already whistling and walking off, minding his own business. “You're fifteen now, there's no need to act like this. You can always get another ant farm after you clean up the one that broke. And you!” She pointed straight at Kaneki, who was so close to retreating to their room. He stared, with wide, terrified eyes at her aggressive tone. “I'm not done with you either!”

She stormed over to his side and practically dragged him into their room, shutting the door behind her - though not before giving one last glare at her daughter. With Ichika sighing and moving back to her room, Touka she dumped herself onto their bed. Kaneki sat besides her, pulling her deadweight body onto her lap.

“I'm guessing you want me to continue the massage now.” Kaneki chuckled, kissing her neck lightly as his hands moved up to her shoulders. She made a noise of confirmation and nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.

She glanced over to the picture that stood on their bedside table; it was a family photo, with a slightly younger Ichika and Asuka stood besides her and Kaneki, along with Yomo, Ayato and Hinami, with her and Ayato’s baby in her arms. It's been a year or two since that picture was taken and it always brought warm memories whenever Touka set her eyes on it. Their family has grown so much after the tension from the Dragon War cooled down. Ichika stood proudly, clinging to her dad's arm. Her hair was tied up in a cute messy bun, her clothes a lot like Touka's when she was younger - baggy and boyish, though she did like her bright colours. Asuka was hiding partially behind Touka's leg, his wavy, thick dark hair partially hiding his big blue eyes, his face still a little chubby and body slim and petite. He didn't have the brash boldness his sister had; he was much more tame like his father, though he was surprisingly hot headed like...well, it doesn't matter who he got that from.

“Hm, they really have grown.” Kaneki said quietly when he caught her staring at the picture. He pulled her against him, squeezing her tightly and rested his head on her shoulder. “In more ways than I'm comfortable with.” He chuckled afterwards.

“It's weird.” Touka added, turning her head to face Kaneki. “Every now and again, it just strikes me that all of this is actually happening. It's...overwhelming.”

He smiled, understanding her completely. It still felt like a dream sometimes and even if it was, they never wanted to let it go. Even with the squabbles and petty fights, even with the glum and moody days, all of it just seemed too perfect to be true. Kaneki pushed Touka's hair to one shoulder, trailing kisses from her bite mark to her ear, where he nuzzled her and pulled her down onto the bed. She giggled as he started to her kiss her softly, whispering her name as he did so, until another loud yell interrupted their moment.

“THERESANTSINMYBED-” Asuka shrieked, along with Ichika laughing loudly. “ICHIKA, YOU DID THIS, DIDN'T YOU-”

“Kaneki, hold this.” She tossed him the cardigan she was wearing. “I don't want my kagune to ruin it.”

“Touka-chan, no!”

. . .

There were butterflies in her stomach and she clutched the hem of her shirt, staring nervously at her reflection. Ichika was dressed in her best casual outfit, with her white shirt that hung off her shoulders and light blue jeans, her hair in a side bun with a white flower clip on one side. She kept the makeup simple, even though that was the only way she knew how to do it, and looked over to the clock to check the time. That was when she heard the doorbell.

She rushed out of the room in an attempt to stop anyone opening the door, but she knew it was too late when she saw her mum and dad already there, greeting their guest warmly. This was terrible! She heard the chipper voice of her date nervously respond to Ichika’s parents, her dad turning to wave over his nervous daughter to the door. With little success, she tried to put up her best smile and forced herself to her dad's side.

And there she was. Ichika’s date. She was beautiful, like she always was, with her long black hair and gentle face. She had these big, dark brown eyes that complimented her soft features and she stood nervously, dressed in a cute, light blue sundress and sandals.

“What a beautiful girl you are!” Touka complimented warmly, inviting the guest inside. “We've heard so much about you, Emi.”

She blushed and Ichika felt her own cheeks heat up, her dad nudging her with his own smile. He squeezed her hand, trying to calm her nerves he knew she had. Touka continued with her gushing compliments, which only embarrassed the two of them further, until Kaneki decided now was the time to save her.  

“Come now, Touka-chan.” He took his wife's hand, tugging her to his side. “You've had your fun, let them go and enjoy their date.” She mumbled that he was a killjoy with a smirk, but nodded with a sigh. Ichika kept her focus on Emi though.

“Hey, you should be careful.” Ichika’s teenaged brother warned as he passed by, playing a game in his hands. His hair was still as bad as it was in the morning, with it all ruffled and sticking out in odd places and he looked up with his dorky round glasses slipping down his nose. “The last boy she dated ran away crying when she nearly bit his tongue off-”

Ichika let out an odd noise that was half a shriek and half gibberish. He chuckled and with and disapproving look from his parents, he ran off to the next room, Touka mentioning how this was somehow Kaneki's fault.

“Ichika-chan, it's fine!” Emi grabbed her hand, making her freeze with her becoming all flustered. “Everyone knows that story.”

“H-How...is that supposed to make it any be-”

“Come on, you dunce, don't keep her waiting.” Touka started nudging her forward, prompting her to take the lead. “Don't be like your dad.”

“Hey, that's not fair.” Kaneki whined, but Ichika sighed and did as her mother told, finally smiling and bidding her goodbyes. Once the door shut, Kaneki took her hand into his and gave her a quick kiss.

“She reminds me of our first date.” He said, his voice low and soft. “Even though we were already married then.”

“Hm, maybe she'll learn from you then.” Touka teased and when he gave her that usual pout she was very familiar with. She pulled him in for another kiss. “But if she doesn't,” she continued, pulling away only slightly, “then everything would still turn out perfect.”

Asuka walked in and made a gagging sound at his parent's sap, hating, though always secretly admiring, how romantic they were to one another. They both amusingly turned to him with their own knowing smirks, Kaneki being the first to tease him.

“I don't know why you're reacting like that when we had to watch you get all cute with that Hitomu girl.” He then made his own high pitched protesting sound, his voice cracking, before he stormed off to his room, his face bright red.

. . .

Asuka checked his watch, half running to his parent's home in realisation of how late he was getting. With him now in Kamii, it was hard to keep track of time sometimes, but he did promise to meet with the family during his break. Besides, he missed his dad's apple pie he always baked for him and Ichika. Well, he'd be lying if he said that was the only reason - he loved his family after all.

Jogging down the street, he finally saw his old home, which was still the same as ever in his eyes. With a warm smile, he went up the small steps and rang the doorbell a few times. He was more than overjoyed to see his mum behind the door and immediately gave her a tight hug.

She was still the gorgeous woman she always was, along with the stray grey hair and crease beneath her eyes. Her hair was shorter again, but he always thought that suited her better. She welcomed him inside, where his dad stood with his pink frilly apron.

“You're too tall!” He exclaimed as he gave him a hug, Asuka almost suffocating. Pulling back, he saw his dad also kept his young looks, even with the few wrinkles around the eyes. “You were shorter than me when you left.”

“Damn, what have you been taking, Asuka-chan? Well, at least you cut off that fugly mullet you had before.” Ichika teased and Asuka smirked, staring at his sister. She has changed herself, though not entirely; her hair was longer, her black roots almost capping her head, and she was dressed quite professionally. She must've just returned from work. “Aren't you going to give me a hug too, brat?”

They share a brief hug and they all sit in the living room, catching up after the few months they last saw each other and sharing the news they’ve heard around Tokyo. It seemed the older members of the TLC were now making their retirements and picking their replacements from the new generation and Kaneki had seemingly no more duties to attend to with Tokyo now fully repaired. Hide had made his last rotation around the continents with his plans of peace and it held some effect with more countries opening their doors to ghouls, though some still saw them as a threat that needed to be eradicated.

They then moved on to their personal lives. Touka and Kaneki were thinking of their retirement themselves, with Kaneki tying loose ends and Touka thinking of handing the cafe to her neice and they hoped to move to a more peaceful and remote area afterwards before travelling to the different countries they had wanted to see. They also planned on spending more time with their friends whilst also taking care of Renji. Ichika seemed to be doing well in the labs, Kimi continuing to teach her as always and Nishiki kept her company every now and again with his son. Asuka always admired his sister for her intellect - he could never pass biology - and she was always so passionate about her being a half ghoul like him and their dad. Asuka never had much an opinion for such a thing and so he instead wanted to refine his writing skills, since his dad wrote such an inspiring book about his messy life. He hoped he could perhaps encourage peace between species through words, like Kaneki and Hide, since he couldn't do so with science.

“What happened to that Emi girl, Ichika-chan?” Kaneki asked with a bright smile, though Ichika could only offer a wry one.

“It didn't work out.” She admitted, all of them offering their own apologies. “It's fine though! It wasn't anything dramatic - it just sorta drifted apart. Besides, I have my work to distract me.” She laughed it off, but Asuka took her hand and squeezed it tightly, both him and their parents offering sympathetic looks.

“Well, it's a good thing I made us apple pie!” Kaneki got up, clapping his hands together. Ichika jumped up excitedly, asking if she could have a big piece like she always did and Asuka and Touka followed behind them to the dining room.

“I always love these moments.” Touka confessed, linking her arm through Asuka’s. He glanced over at her curiously, her gaze fondly watching her lovey dovey husband and enthusiastic daughter. “Isn't it amazing how everything turned out so perfectly.”

He laughed lightly at her comment, nodding. “Well, my hair is still fucked up. It's so thick and knotty.”

“You can blame your dad for that. Or...well...a part of him.”

“W-Wha-”

“It doesn't matter.” She reassured and reached up to kiss his cheek, pinching it. “You're still a handsome boy. Invite Hitomu next time too, you're always polite when she's here.”

As he let out loud protests, they sat around the table, all of them taking a slice of the delicious looking pie. Touka reached beneath the table and held Kaneki's hand. He glanced over at her, her cheeks bright and her eyes crinkled. Of course, that left him smiling all goofy too and neither had to utter a word for them to know the gratitude they both felt. With their children bickering with their own inside banter whilst they both joked with them, and with Kaneki still by her side just as he was twenty years ago, nothing could've felt better than this moment.

Nothing could've felt better with any of their moments.

[bubmyg]

can you write about being all dressed up and going out with bts and best friend yoongi cannot take his eyes off you bc he thinks you're sooo pretty and is also lowkey protective (and maybe has a crush idk)

word count: 964

Your first move was toward Seokjin, fingers grasping at his crooked bow tie with a click of your tongue in soft reprimand. Five other figures stalled, speech catching on tongues, coughs covering stutters, awkward shifts padding expensive leather dress shoes into the wood threshold. 

“There,” You teased, patting the clipped silk over Seokjin’s clavicle. You peered up at him, taking the same sanction of your fingers to tap at the underside of his jaw, “You’re welcome.”

Jeongguk was looking at you like you’d grown a toe from the tip of your nose. You blinked, snapping your fingers over the exaggerated hang of his ajar jaw, startling the unabashed laser of Hoseok’s gaze in the process. You turned to Jimin, catching the panicked aversion of his dilated pupils from your own as he nearly toppled over a rocking Taehyung. 

You turned to Namjoon, “Where’s Yoongi?”

Heavy footsteps shuffled from the hall, catching the acute attention of seven turning heads. Yoongi swore under his breath as he approached, fingers fiddling at the loose buttons attached to the cuffs of his fitted long sleeve. One was particularly difficult, sliding under the stitched hole in time with his stature sliding next to you. 

“Hey,” He greeted with a slight huff, pouted bottom lip drawing up into a toothless smile as he peered at you. 

You flicked your gaze to the fabric secured underneath his array of sparkling bracelets, “Did you get it?”

Yoongi was caught off guard, blinking once, twice, stuttering, “What? Oh, yes, I got them,” He leaned closer, plush cheek dimpling as he bit the inside of his mouth, “You look really nice.”

“Thank you,” You ignored the stir in the pit of your stomach, nudging his side with your elbow, “I’d say the same for you, but-” you shrugged, “-eh.”

The full weight of his unabashed gums blinded you, bumping his hip into yours as he straightened. Six knowing gazes pierced over the small bubble the two of you had created, burning a slight blaze to the back of your neck. Yoongi’s smirked died into a thin line, frowning at his members. 

“Did you tell her?” He quipped. 

A small murmur of confusion filtered into the ambiance. Namjoon was the gentle voice of reason, “Tell her what?”

Yoongi deadpanned, “That she looks incredible.”

Stunned silence wasn’t allowed for long, Jeongguk blurting, “She looks hot, hyung.”

Delicate digits crushed between the spaces in your own, squeezing to mirror the laced annoyance in his tone, grumbling, “Not the most elegant way to put it, but yeah okay-” 

Taehyung tucked his shoulder against Yoongi, taking a languid sip of maroon wine past stained lips. “You’re glaring,” He said gently, following the blazing path of Yoongi’s gaze to you. 

“I’m observing,” Yoongi huffed, pushing the broad shouldered man off of him. You laughed in that moment, a loud trill he could hear across the room, eyes crinkled, unabashed to the strangers milling around you. 

The younger hummed in acknowledgment, downing the last drop of tangy liquid across the curl of his tongue. His lips smacked thoughtfully, rolling the taste around his tongue in time with the balance of his glass between his index and middle finger. “She’s truly radiant,” Taehyung mused, “beautiful, really.”

Yoongi’s lipped scold was tighter than he’d intended, “You’re just now noticing?”

You turned, catching the brunt of Yoongi’s stare. Your cheeks tinged with warmth, smile small, wave shy. Taehyung watched as the smaller man waved his hand in acknowledgement, hard gaze immediately bursting with fond, the adoration radiating so thickly from his aura that it was nearly sickening to stand that close. 

“You’re blushing,” Taehyung pointed out, bottom lip rubbing absently at the rim of the empty glass clutched in his knuckles. 

Yoongi’s pliable cheeks puffed in annoyance, blotched in three separate shades of patchy red, the high apples of his cheeks dusted in cotton candy pink. “I’m not,” He muttered, the sole of his shoe scuffing into the tile below his stature. 

“When are you going to tell her?” The younger hushed, half teasing, half serious. 

“Tell who what?” You chirped as you approached. A lazy smirk curled over your lips, index finger reaching out to dig into the hunch of Yoongi’s side. “Interested in someone?”

“No-”

“Yes,” Taehyung sang. “He hasn’t stopped talking about her all night.”

Yoongi glared. 

“Oh?” You turned over your shoulder, scanning the slight thrash to the crowd gathered about the small club. “Is she here? Do I know her?”

“Forget it-”

“Yes, and yes,” The younger smiled deviously, wielding the emptiness of his glass in front of his eyes as he took a step back, “Now I have a date with a refill.”

Yoongi glared harder. 

You gripped the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt over his elbow, using the leverage to turn his stature toward you. “Really, though. You didn’t tell me you were into someone.”

I have been for months. “I don’t know,” His chuckle was tentative, nervous, “just intrigued, I guess.”

“What’s she like?” You revealed in the bashful blink of his bright honey eyes to your own.

You. “Pretty,” Yoongi shrugged, tilting his head as he eyed the soft contours of your features, “really pretty.”

“You can tell me more later,” You released your grip on him, deciding to spare the intense embarrassment seeping from the hunch of his stature. Instead, you jerked a thumb behind your back, “Now, do you want to dance?”

His voice was small, shy, hopeful, “With you?”

You gently pushed at his torso, “Unless your mystery girl is here, yes. With me.”

Yoongi was beside himself, tripping over the numb stall of his feet in search for your hand, giddily lacing your fingers. 

No, I’d really like to go home. With you. 

“Yes,” He beamed, “I’d love to dance.” 

[z-brooke]

So my thoughts on How To Train Your Dragon 3

spoilers, even though some of it is painfully and devastatingly predictable (the only surprise is that some elements are so old and cliche that they’re even here at all)

So first thing I want to address is the girl night fury (”light fury”) that everyone went bonkers over. Personally, I enjoyed the jokes, but I didn’t mind the design choice entirely...

Because HTTYD doesn’t really have diversified dragon models within their species, (bc the most important trait for them is either being Toothless, or being ridden upon) let alone sexual dimorphism, so it would be rather odd that only night furies would be the only ones with differing models, imo (it’s pretty clear that even if they��re different species, dragons function essentially as a pack of the same animals). And with the same model/base, you have very few options. The first thing, which I hate, was removing textures. Light fury has no scales, which makes her look really unnatural and rubbery compared to Toothless. (not sure what it is? maybe the black disguises how odd some of the facial expressions are and it’s more visible with white? hm...) Another one I disliked was making her tail and wings more ‘elegant’ looking, more rounded and iridescent. Doesn’t really look bad but it doesn’t really help, either.

The third choice, the one that got the most attention that I actually think is the better choice is to go with changing the color. Making her white makes reading them as distinct characters at a distance where you can’t see Light’s freakish lack of face-scales much easier than if they were both black/dark. And just as a little bonus (If you don’t want spoilers and clicked on this anyway out of curiosity this coming up is a spoiler so turn back now) - her coloring isn’t a dimorphism thing. No one comments on it, but later (REAL SPOILER I GUESS) when Toothless and Light have babies, they’re shown to have a mix of white and black markings, indicating that she actual has a mutation. (And perhaps it even suggests that she’s one of the last surviving night furies because her white color made her initially not classified as a night fury and thus avoided being hunted?) 

Idk I really appreciate that.

But the night fury relationship was soooo dull and bad. Like very generic “boy meets girl, and is stupid-gaga over her and is already love stricken and has to go find her again” kinda deal... which I almost understand from this point of view of “they’re animals, they mate for lives, they have instinct” so maybe Toothless imprinted on the first female he ever encountered past adulthood and this is his one and only mate (but this doesn’t explain why the same doesn’t seem to be true of Light? Like she returns for him again and again but seems easily turned off by his antics and will just leave?). And I’m totally not against Toothless being romantic with his species’ last chance at survival, but the very cartoony and goofy displays of this infatuation was really weird imo.

I didn’t care for most of the whole courtship things, either. (The flying scene was kinda cute, but a tad long). The whole thing could have been handled better if for the most part it didn’t just look like Toothless was badgering the fuck out of her and she was trying to tolerate it.

The next Bad Hetero thing was the classic “Competent women are here as emotional support” but twice! Half the mom’s role was urging Astrid to go be emotional support. It’s really annoying, a little distracting, and the worst part of the movie in my opinion, and probably the worst HetTrope present.

And the last bad hetero thing (which is like four in one so buckle up - also this is about endings so fucking spoilers if you’re still here kicking yourself) how everyone pairs off. In the beginning of the movie, Astrid is kind of pressured to marry Hiccup because she has sense and would be a good ruler (hello can of worms, i’ll crank you open in just a sec) and later the two talk about it and Astrid says the two of them aren’t ready (with it implied that Hiccup does want to get married) but it isn’t mentioned too much after that, least not seriously. Cut to an ending montage where they’re getting married. What made them ready? There’s really nothing to indicate this was way in the future, and seems to have happened shortly after the conclusion of the conflict. Fishlegs cries and hugs Ruffnut at the wedding, and she hugs him back and says that she likes sensitive guys. (I think this is hinting at them pairing off, and Ruffnut had expressed an interest in getting married a few times in the film, and an interest in Fishlegs, but not really the same from Fishlegs.)

Anyway, cut to the future where Hiccup’s finally old enough to have a beard of his own (the models are so good in this movie, throughout the movie Hiccup has small whiskers and it’s just *mwah* looks great, cute detail, love that), and he’s holding a baby Hiccup. But wait, this one is blond! And he also has a daughter, who looks like Astrid, but has reddish brown hair!!!

Idk if ive mentioned it here, or if anyone would have notice, but the “a boy and a girl that are clones of the parents, but with swapped hair colors” is probably the most boring het trope that I make fun of the most often. This is my go to “bad het story writing” trope when giving examples. I don’t know why I was so suprised but boy howdy! I couldn’t believe that they topped off some really generic hetero storyline stuff with this garbo. 

I am on my knees thanking Jesus that they didn’t do the same with the baby furies (which are the greatest thing to come out of this movie, holy shit). Esp. because the babies suggest that Light has a mutation that makes her white, which isn’t mentioned or speculated on in the movie, and that it has co-dominance with black. Good stuff. I would have been even more disappointed if we got only two babies that were black and white (and maybe swapped eye colors? or something even worse somehow)

And that’s my complaints about the relationships, at least. I’ll talk about general plot stuff in the next post~!