#alternative universe - modern with magic

[azysia]

Hello everyone!

I need your advice real quick. I'm writing a modern setting no magic AU for Agatha All Along where everyone is alive (at the beginning at least) and I'm in need of some ideas or headcanons that you would like to read. I have many of my own but I'd really like to hear something from another perspective. I have ideas for three stories right now but I'll start with one at a time. Which one should I write first? Do you have any ideas for any of it that I can add here?

1. Where Agatha is a little girl living in an orphanage after her mother abandoned her (better for Agatha tbh). Agatha makes friends with Alice and it turns out they have more in common than it seemed. They become friends. Now option A. Alice is living with Lilia after her mom died or B. Alice is living with Lorna but Lorna and Lilia are friends. Alice talks about Agatha all the time and when Lilia hears it it makes her think of her own past and upbringing. Lorna knows that Lilia had lost her family before they met. They talk about it for a while. Lilia eventually adopts a girl and she's living with her (alongside young Alice in option A and alone with Alice and her mother as neighbours in option B). Jen is Alice's friend from school and Rio is a girl from around somewhere (where? Not gonna tell you yet). Don't know where that story is going, I have it mostly planned for like just a half. (Teen went out the window for this one)

2. Agatha is the youngest here, she's a teen. Alice is Agatha's only friend (Agatha's in denial and she doesn't acknowledge it but Alice knows). Lilia is Evanora's friend (like they talk much but don't really see each other) so she doesn't know what Evanora's doing to her daughter. She finds out and tries to confront Evanora but the woman's a delulu bítch. Evanora's committing suicide and Lila's doing everything she can to take Agatha in, because they already know each other somehow and she doesn't want her to end up in foster care with random people. She's blaming herself for not noticing sooner and for Evanora's death, even though it wasn't really her fault. After some time she takes Agatha in and chaos ensues. (can't tell you what. I know where Rio is in here, can't tell you either. Where is Jenn and Billy? I don't know, you tell me)

3. Agatha's like 20 in this. She's dating Rio but her mother doesn't know about it. She's in some kind of Westview gay club groupchat and that's how she met Rio, Alice, Jen, Lilia and Billy. Billy goes to her house but Evanora opens him (Agatha's not there) and she's asking who is he. So he tells her about why he's here and Evanora finds out about the groupchat (Billy doesn't know Evanora doesn't approve, Agatha doesn't talk about her and his own parents are really understanding). He's kicked out so he calls Agatha and tells her what happened. She decides not to come home so she does best second thing she can. She runs. The she's missing for a few days but only the groupchat cares. Eventually Jen finds her (they're not really friendly with each other but Alice likes them both, so they're putting up with it). Then she comes to live with Rio while trying to avoid her mother at all costs, but she's guilty about it.

And Sharon is like that nosy neighbour in every one of these cause I can't imagine her differently, sorry.

I can't give you like full details but that's mostly what the stories are about. Maybe not that straightforward, I'm gonna make it a little more dramatic (I love seeing people suffer, don't mind me) but I need your opinion.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Wish Nightshade didn't ruin the picture quality, but it does. Nothing I can do about it that I know off. At least, I managed to tone it down a little by removing the texture I put over the drawing.

Anyway, Magic AU!

Please do not repost or misuse in anyway.

[nightmare-magic]

1

And away we goooooo...

“You know I wouldn’t be calling if I had another option.” Vollrath growled as his teeth ground. He looked around, hating to even have to be there meeting with Morpheus. How did he even get himself into this position. He was a fucking Master Warlock. Shouldn’t he be able to vanquish nightmares? YES! Yet here he was having to ask for help from a being that he hated, and who he was sure hated him.

“Would you prefer to negotiate with Melinoe?” Morpheus smirked, knowing the answer to that. While Melinoe was less of an asshole than he was, she also had never had a run in with Vollrath before. The other three men who sat at a table near them, obviously hating this as much as Vollrath was, would make her no less pleased than dealing with the jackass warlock in front of him. “So, what did you fuck up to need my help, warlock?” His eyebrows rose in amusement.

“I didn’t fuck anything up. Someone is coming after my wife through her dreams. My brother, and both of the warlocks who serve under me have tried figuring out what’s going on, and neither can. I’m worried, Morpheus. Nothing we can do through our magic is working. The goddess is not helping and even Sylvan seems unable to vanquish whatever is coming to torture her dreams. The ancestors don’t seem to be able or willing to help, they are not communicating which. I’ve never run into anything like this.” His jaw clenched and his hand ran through his auburn hair as Vollrath admitted that he was powerless to fix the problem. Mahala was already afraid to fall asleep and even had to be drugged most nights. Her fear kept her from being able to relax enough to sleep, so it was either drugs or she���d stay away until she passed out.

Morpheus sat back as his eyebrows drew together. That was not what he’d expected. The last time that he’d been called by Vollrath, it had been a witch who’d called a nightmare demon and couldn’t vanquish it. Of course, Morpheus had been able to take care of the problem easily. This situation was a lot more personal and touchy though. Vollrath requesting personal help from him was something that Morpheus knew was not something that the warlock would do lightly. It was one thing to ask for help for someone in the coven, or to undo something that had been done by someone in the coven, but this was different.

“Of course, both Melinoe and I will be glad to help. We also have another team we work with, that we have personally trained. No one should be tortured by nightmares that sound that powerful and violent.” He could see the powerful warlock before him relax, as did the three others at the other table, when they saw Vollrath relax. “I need to know how long it’s been going on and any details that you are able to tell me. That will give my team an idea of what we’re up against and how we want to take it on.” Anything or anyone taking on the wife of a Master Warlock had to be pretty ballsy. To withstand the powers of four powerful warlocks, like the ones before him, meant that they were going to have to call in help from Lorien and Rua as well; which is why he mentioned them. Morpheus had a sinking feeling that they were once again up against something new, or dark.

“About a month ago, it just started suddenly. It was a random nightmare unlike anything that she had ever had before. Mahala, my wife, had problems waking up from it even with me trying to help her using spells. When she did, she was disoriented and unlike herself; and kept falling back into the same nightmare. It was as if there was a tether to her even when she was awakened that pulled her back into sleep and into the dream. I had to give her a potion to stay awake. Then, every night since then, whenever she falls asleep, she falls back into the same nightmare. It is violent and dark….” Vollrath began with how the nightmares started.

From there, he gave details of how the nightmares involved witches that seemed to come from ancient times, chanting in ancient language that she didn’t understand. They were doing rituals that she did not understand, burning her, cutting her, poking her, hitting her, and even warlocks taking place trying to rape her. Vollrath had to pause at times, obviously becoming overcome by emotion at what his wife had gone through, the obvious emotional and physical toll it was taking on her. He did mention that he was always able to wake her up at least before the rapes took place. She would start screaming to please not rape her and he knew that is what was starting. He was afraid, though, that one day he would not be there, and that the emotional trauma would be too much. At times tears made slow rivers down his face, his hands fisted, he shook, and his voice cracked as he recounted all that had been taking place.

The more that Morpheus listened the more disturbed that he became at what he was hearing. His eyes scanned all four Warlocks and it seemed that they all shared the same emotions regarding the situation, which meant that most likely all had tried to help regarding it and failed. This wasn’t the situation that he had wanted, but rarely were you handed one you did.

There had to be some kind of tie in with Vollrath’s history, or that of Mahala. Maybe something in the past of their family, or of the coven. With them both being strong in power and married to one another, there could be no coincidence in what the nightmare was showing them. It didn’t mean that the dream agents couldn’t help her, but it would be more complicated than if it had just been a nightmare assassin of the normal kind that they dealt with her. He was sure by the end that all four of them as a team would be best, if for no other reason than to watch one another’s back.

“We will find out what is going on. All four of my team will help. We will end this. I vow it. We may have our differences, Vollrath, but no one should suffer like that. We begin tonight. I’ll go back and round my crew up. I’ll call you when we’ll meet again so everyone can become acquainted and you can learn what we’ll need from the four of you.” Morpheus was resolute, his voice firm. Whatever was going on with Mahala, he had no doubt that he and his crew could handle it. He just hoped that they were in time to prevent any lasting damage to Mahala.

Share banner: @cafekitsune

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Enigma: Chapter 2

Rogue Magic Part 1 - Astrid

Summary: In a world where magic exists, it’s of the utmost importance to know how to control your abilities. Hiccup has been plagued by his own brand of magic for as long as he’s been alive. When his powers are accidentally outed in front of Astrid, she gets him into the same school of magic she’s going. He hopes to learn how to control his magic and find answers to the enigma that is him and his powers.

Warnings: /

Rating: General

Words: 3 722

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Dagur, Heather

Pairing: /

Author's Notes: It took a little while, but here's the next chapter! I don't have the entire outline done, but I did get the outline done for this story arc, which is what I'm writing now. Got a little bit stuck on this one, but I got it done in the end.

Enjoy!

[onceandfutureclotpoll]

Title: The Student Prince

Author: FayJay

Rating: Mature

Summary: A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

This story was inspired by the thought of Prince William of Wales (and indeed the current Max von Hapsburg) studying at the University of St Andrews; it is also, as the title suggests, at least a little inspired by the operetta 'The Student Prince'.

[lockwood-fic-recs]

ad meliora

by chahakyn on ao3

Rating: E | Category: F/M, M/M, Multi | Relationship: Lockwood/Lucy/George

(Click for summary)

“Oh, yes, do come in, I’ll pop the kettle on and we can have tea and biscuits at three in the morning,” George mutters him himself, shutting and bolting the door with an idle flick of his wrist. “Why am I saving Lockwood’s life?”

“Because I’m your best mate—”

“Not if you keep waking me up in the middle of the night—”

“Because Lockwood went and got himself cursed.”

Lockwood gets possessed after a case. The effects of this ripple out farther than anyone would have predicted.

[dakato]

Took part in a Sendai Frogs Big Bang event on Twitter a few months back and had an absolute blast!! You can find the fic here and moon's accompanying art here

[starriskyy]

Out of the Frying Pan (and into the Fire)

My second Genshin Impact one-shot for my creative writing homework. I hope you like it!

TW: Mild violence, mentioned bruises and lack of self-preservation

[viaetor]

as much as i love genshin interactions, lately i've been craving writing aether in other universes/fandoms or maybe exploring more about his past pre-teyvat. i have so many ideas for him, and i'd love to explore the process of him slowly developing a heart and a mind of his own (instead of just being an order-keeper that travels through worlds guided by the stars). just!!! the process of him relating to mortals and falling in love with mortality yknow! itd be pretty neat 🥺

[chibi-pix]

Finally. Quiznaking. Finished. So. A couple nights ago, my brain was hit with a screenshot redrawn that I’ve seen of one lady pulling a sword from another in magical summoning glowiness. And. I didn’t know what that was from. AT ALL. So I spent like half an hour trying to figure out what it was and I did.  And my brain said “We should draw this with VLD Pidge and VF Larmina.”  And. While thinking of differently from Revolutionary Girl Utena (which I ended up watching the first two yesterdays), I loved the pose and the concept of summoning the sword from another. It was cool.  So, in the end, I had to do that with Larmina and Pidge for some AY that hit my mind.  And while I hated drawing the pose initially and figuring out the background, I am pleased with it in the end.  I’m proud. Also, Larmina has an undercut. This was based on @toasthoneyandstardust’s concept with Larmina and that was the best idea ever. She looks so amazing with it.

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this one. Until next time!

[gretsonfic]

i wanna feel all that love and emotion by amessofgaywords

She itches to remove her mitten and Greta’s simple glove and feel their skin pressed together, but this, she understands – she respects Greta’s boundary. If every time she touched someone, she knew what was going on in their heads, she would probably hate that too. It’s already too much to hear what’s going on in everyone’s hearts. As much as she longs for Greta to know exactly how much time Carson has spent thinking about kissing her. or: gretson know everything and they're still emotionally unintelligent, and also it's christmas.

[crazyjoystickgraphics]

AU rough drawings of Hex in a Modern Fantasy setting as a Magical Girl character.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Go To Sleep Little Baby

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 26. Set in a Modern Magic AU. Hiccup’s uncontrollable magic has been with him since birth. As a baby, his parents were at a loss.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Stoick, Valka, Gothi

Pairing: Stalka

Words: 2 275

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Magical exhaustion or injury, Curse

Whumpee: Hiccup, Stoick, Valka

Author’s Notes: Went through a lot of ideas for Day 26, which all had to do with the same AU, but I eventually ended up settling on this one. Can't wait to finally share the main fic soon. :)

Also this fic originally ended at a little over 1,7k words. Now it's a little over 2,2k, lol.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

Ever since the day he was born, Hiccup has been a difficult child. At 3 months old, all the boy has done is cry. Cry, cry, cry and hysterically so. Even with his belly full, his diaper clean, and after a nap, the screams would still erupt from his tiny lungs and his tears would fall. He’s not well.

Stoick and Valka took him to every doctor they could find with the same list of symptoms. He barely eats, he's almost constantly running a fever, and he's always crying. But no matter where they go, whether the clinic is on Berk or on the mainland, every visit ends with the same conclusion.

"He is as healthy as they come."

His ears are fine, his throat is fine, his belly isn’t tender, … Beyond a fever, there’s nothing physically wrong with him. Yet as fresh parents worrying about their first and stumbling through parenthood, it's a slap in the face each and every time.

Valka stomps to the car in a huff, Hiccup held securely to her bosom. It's one of the very few places where he might be persuaded not to cry. Even now he still sniffles, his lip trembling, and seeking solace in his mother’s embrace.

“Valka, wait!” Stoick hurries after her. His wife stormed out of the seventh or eighth doctor’s office with their son, she wouldn't even wait for him as she left.

She stops in the middle of the street to face him, a storm rages in her eyes. Stoick takes her arm and gently pulls her towards the parked car. He can see the tears she's struggling to blink away.

"I have to put him in the car seat, Stoick," she tells him, deciding against talking about the disappointing doctor's appointment. He knows why she tells him this. She's hesitating because the second she puts him down…

Stoick's gaze brings him to his son. Hiccup sleeps now, dressed in a baby blue onesie and tiny winter coat. It's been a cold and wet spring so far. Though it’s May, the warmer days still seem far away.

“Why can’t any of them help us, Stoick?” Facing the dread of putting their son down, Valka asks. “This doctor didn’t even want to look at our boy!”

The reminder makes Stoick clench his fists. It’s true. They had to beg for an appointment when they tried to deny them, simply stating “Babies cry!” And then, after they finally got one, the doctor barely examined Hiccup before declaring him perfectly healthy and sending them on their way. “First time parents, right?”

Valka wipes the tears from her eyes. They’re both exhausted after three months of literal hell. Hiccup isn’t the only one kept from his sleep by his crying. Not that a good night’s sleep would be a cure for just how draining listening to a constantly crying child can be. An infant can’t be reasoned with either. There’s a reason why he’s like this.

And now she’s stalling for time, not wanting to put Hiccup down. Because if they did…

He would simply erupt.

It’s like the world is just too much for the boy.

Stoick places a strong hand on his wife’s shoulder and she gazes up at him.

“Gothi.”

She blinks in confusion.

“What if our problem isn’t physical at all, lass?” He asks. “What if it’s magical?”

Valk stares down at Hiccup, flashes of his birth run to the forefront of her mind.

Her pregnancy had been strange. Not unexpected with two parents in possession of mystical abilities, though one underdeveloped. But even so, it was strange. She got,visions, remarkable dreams, her powers surged… And still, his birthday stands out like a sore thumb.

With every contraction, glass from windows and screens broke. She screamed, the lights overhead would flicker. She pushed, equipment would spark. It was like a scene out of a horror movie as the room descended into chaos. At least two nurses suddenly became unwell and the doctor came close to passing out. There was a power outage on the entire floor.

And then Hiccup arrived after nine long months. He cried and hasn’t stopped since. The only way to make him stop is if his parents cradle him. His parents and no one else. The nurses came to call him “devil spawn” when they thought his parents weren’t listening.

“Maybe you’re right,” Valka agrees. Maybe they never should’ve left Berk in the first place.

-XOXOX-

Elder Gothi was the oldest woman on Berk at the young age of 500 years old.

Or that is what they think her age is. She could be much older than that, she never gives a specific number when asked.

She is a witch, the wisest their tribe has ever seen. She is capable of a great many things, impossible things. So perhaps, she’s the best person to help these troubled parents with their bundle of joy.

Hiccup is once again a hysterical wreck. Lying on Gothi’s table in just his diaper now. He uses every ounce of his little lungs to scream. His face is a deep red and a mess of tears and snot. His fists and toes are clenched and his limbs still as if tensed stiff.

Almost unbothered, Gothi examines him while his parents cower, even Stoick. There’s a deep grimace on his face. The elder witch checks his eyes, his tongue, his liver, but it aren’t physical symptoms that she’s searching for. She’s not looking for the same things that a pediatrician would be looking for.

As her final step, she grabs his tiny fist and makes him uncurl his fingers, reading his tiny palm. Her eyes widen and she gasps.

Stoick and Valka both straighten, worry etched on their faces as she backs away from Hiccup.

Quickly retreating, she hurries to one side of her hut. The entire place is decorated in things of mystical origins. Amulets are pinned to a beam, chicken feet and other animal feet hang from the ceiling in bundles, rocks with certain properties hide in every corner, … anything the mind can think of, Gothi has. But she passes it all to go to the very back. Shoving things aside with her staff, she reaches a cabinet that hasn’t seen a decent dusting since the 1800s at least.

She’s mute, but her lips still utter a spell and the cabinet’s doors unlock audibly. Peeking inside, a web stretches along with the door she swings open. Gothi wipes it away with her bare hand before reaching inside and grabbing a small and black clay pot.

Her visitors can’t see it, her back faces them, but a thoughtful expression crosses her features. She wonders if she really has need for what’s inside. She hasn’t needed ithis in literal centuries for it only works on a select few people.

It’s worth a shot.

Opening the pot, she finds scales as black as the night within. She takes a few, concealing them in her hand and returns the pot to its original resting place. Never to be disturbed again.

With no clue as to what the old woman is doing, the desperate Stoick and Valka watch as she runs from one place to the next, surprisingly fast in her old age. She crushes something with a mortar and pestle, then runs to the other side of her hut to grab something else and crush that as well. She grabs several ingredients and the parents can’t keep up. It’s almost like Hiccup’s crying is a physical barrier, they can’t pay attention.

Finally, Gothi returns, hands clasped together and some of her concoction held within. She blows into her hands, the dust-like material falls gently above the crying child like a cloud of dust, fluttering down without a care in the world. Hiccup sneezes twice, his crying reaches a higher volume.

“Gothi…” Stoick speaks her name, fingers rubbing his temple.

Gothi reaches into the mortar again and with blackened fingers returns a second time to draw a rune on Hiccup’s forehead.

“Gothi?” Valka’s brows frown. Despite their age, she recognizes these mystical runes quickly as the witch places a second on his heart, a third on the back of his left hand, a fourth on his right.

“Stoick, she’s stunting him!”

“What?!” Stoick rises to his feet.

“She’s stunting his magic!”

Gothi finishes with a fifth rune on his belly. They all say “protect” and “contain.”

“Gothi, what’s the meaning of this?” Stoick is immediately perturbed. They came here to help their son, not hurt him!

With the slightest bit of magic touching his skin, something inside of the three month old lashes out. An orange glow like fire erupts from his underweight frame. His parents have to step back, taken off guard by the heat filling this tiny space. Gothi tries to draw the same runes around the boy on the table, drawing a perfect circle, but she’s thrown back and hits a chair behind her.

Stoick tries to come to her rescue, but finds himself frozen in place. There’s an impossible weight filling this room, choking them. It’s like several spells are used all at once. A buzzing drums in their ears, it almost overshadows Hiccup’s crying.

Gothi manages to finish the circle of runes. Glass shatters explosively, destroying her windows, breaking jars, things fly off the shelf as if thrown, the hearth is set ablaze.

The elder witch begins a wordless incantation. The buzzing grows louder, the heat hotter, her posessions levitate. She, Stoick, and Valka’s feet are lifted off the ground.

And suddenly all is quiet.

The ashy runes sear into the babe’s flesh without a single howl of pain and leaving not a trace. Everything floating in the air falls to the ground, the glow disappears, that suffocating weight is lifted. The three drop to the floor.

And Hiccup’s crying has stopped. Relaxing, curling up, and suckling on his fist, he’s suddenly sound asleep.

Valka and Stoick rise to their feet, staring in utter shock at the power displayed by their son. This was ten times worse than his birth at the hospital. They’re both shaken to their core.

Gothi hobbles to find her staff and then throws a thick layer of sand over the ground to begin her explanation.

Stoick can’t read it, but his partner can.

A hand to her beating drum of a heart, she soaks up every word.

“His own magic was hurting him?!” Valka repeats in shock and her husband shares that sentiment. Gothi nods before continuing.

She tells them how out of control his abilities are, how his little baby self had no idea what to do with them, that every second he wanted his magic to leave him alone and to stop hurting him. As a result, all he could do was cry. Cry and cry and cry and cry.

His parents were his sole comfort in his personal little hell.

“You stunted him…” Valka repeats, giving the elder witch a look. Gothi nods, it was for the boy’s own good. He may be okay now, but his abilties would’ve torn his little body apart before long. He wouldn’t have made it to his first birthday if they hadn’t come to her.

Telling his parents this makes the two grow cold inside.

“Gothi, what did we just see?” Stoick finally asks, uncertain how to describe what just happened inside her hut.

“A temper tantrum,” she starts. But rather, his powers were throwing one. Hiccup sensed the slightest bit of ‘hostile’ magic touch his skin and instinct bound to his abilities sought to protect him from it. By any means necessary.

“What now, Gothi?” Valka asks.

“Raise him like any boy on Berk would be raised. His magic is still there, simply mostly repressed. But watch out, this containment spell will erode over time. The older he gets, the weaker the spell becomes.”

With no more words to share, Valka picks the sleeping Hiccup up from Gothi’s table. The two thank her, Stoick makes sure she knows of his gratitude. As far as he’s concerned, the three of them are indebted to her.

They leave and Gothi retreats to the darkest corners of her hut, diving into her many books. She didn’t want Hiccup’s parents to know, but she’s left with questions herself.

Without a doubt, Valka is talented and Stoick contains a might that is sorely neglected. The man doesn’t know a single spell. But two powerful parents don’t mean a powerful child and certainly not one of this caliber.

The elder witch finds herself filling with concern. In her long life, she’s had the displeasure of knowing magic users of extraordinary strength and sometimes that kind of might is a curse. It certainly is for Hiccup, whose powers needed to be repressed, lest they slowly tear him apart cell by cell over the course of months. There is not a shadow of a doubt in her mind, he was in terrible pain.

She settles with a single book. It’s ancient, it practically falls apart in her hands. She skims through the pages to find the right one and dread settles in her old bones.

She feels sorry for the 3 month old. His life won’t be an easy one. Great and terrible things lie in his future.

For now, he and his parents are blissfully ignorant of it all.

Stoick and Valka bring a different child home that night. They put him to bed, he hasn’t stirred once on the way home. Both crash onto their bed, exhausted beyond believe and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning a happy child greets them.

[reiignonme]

🐍 @motherfuckingmaneater ——— liked the one liner starter call.

——— 🐍 ❝ 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈'𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 am, I know I am. Please teach me, mother. ❞

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Enigma - Chapter 1 - Prologue

(Because that's how Ao3 works)

Summary: In a world where magic exists, it’s of the utmost importance to know how to control your abilities. Hiccup has been plagued by his own brand of magic for as long as he’s been alive. When his powers are accidentally outed in front of Astrid, she gets him into the same school of magic she’s going. He hopes to learn how to control his magic and find answers to the enigma that is him and his powers.

Warnings: /

Ratings: General

Words: 1 278

Characters: Hiccup

Pairings: /

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Author's Notes: I've had this prologue stashed away finished for a few months now. I've been wanting to post it, finally get this fic going, but I was always missing something. Now it feels just right.

I don't really have an official end in sight for this fic, just a bunch of story arcs, so I will be writing this fic by the arc.

And yes, you read that right. This fic is going to be a Vigcup/Hiccstrid. It started out as solely a Vigcup idea, but Hiccstrid just feels right for this idea, too.

The line that mentions that everything hurts is definitely a reference to 'Go To Sleep Little Baby', also a part of this AU. 👀

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

It is always the same dream of a city. It is thriving and the people are happy, they go through life with a smile on their face and their lives fulfilled. Steel and glass don’t rule here, plenty of green overshadows their uncaring nature. It is a beautiful place, unreal place.

Every single time he returns, he stands in the middle, passed by on all sides by the smiling faceless masses. They’re never the star. Instead, the true stars are high up in the sky where they belong. They’re creatures big and small, some have two legs, some have four, some have talons, some have horns. But what they all have in common are wings and fire.

They are many and they are what makes him smile.

He extends a hand towards them, the numbers in the sky above grow. They begin circling as if one collective, a dark figure breaks away. It dives down, its shadow casts over him when it slows, large bat-like wings spread wide

Even so, he reaches for it and the bat-like shadow reaches back with a big, black head.

He has a connection with that creature. Just their eyes locking, green on green, causes something to swell inside of him. Something good, warm, fierce. It’s like he can feel his every inch tingling with power, his veins boiling, but in a rather good way.

The creature comes closer, the warmth turns into a heat, he’s so desperate to connect.

But that is where the dream ends. That's where it always ends. On that fantastical sight of the skies, his hand reaching, but never touching. Something reaching back, but never arriving.

A connection never forged.

-XOXOX-

When Hiccup rouses, it’s to the smell of something burning.

The scent is awful, burning his nostrils and shaking him from his sleep like a horrible alarm clock.

“No... No, no, no, no!” Panic immediately settles in when he rolls out of the fetal position he’d been lying in for warmth and faces the source. He should’ve known he was a little too comfortable, a little too warm. The bookshelf he happened to fall asleep against the night before is catching fire.

It always happens when he has that dream.

There are embers that spontaneously ignite, tiny trails of smoke, an orange-ish glow that wants to eat away at precious words. Grabbing his blanket he uses it to quickly extinguish the fire before it can start properly, before it actually destroys these books.

Before he destroys these books and burns down this library.

It wouldn’t be the first building he levels by accident.

“Come on, come on!” When the smoldering finally stops, he takes a look at the damage caused, fearing the worst.

Well, the old wooden shelf has certainly been signed, here’s a surface level of char and some of the books have been blackened. Nothing unsalvageable by a much more trained magic user, but all he can do is stare on in shame.

If only that dream would leave him alone. He would stop setting things on fire in his sleep if it did.

Or that’s what he certainly hopes. The morning he could add “spontaneous acts of arson in sleep” to his long list of issues was certainly one of the worst.

Hiccup coughs, lungs sadly not immune to smoke inhalation. And neither is he immune to feeling stiff and sore and cold after sleeping another night on the wooden floor of this library, the spot where he curled up also black. It doesn’t help that it’s been a chilly fall so far. He stretches his back, drowsiness returning as he takes a look around.

Attempting to get up from his knees, there’s a couple of pops and he feels like he’s 40 rather than the 18 year old he should be. Everything hurts. Everything always hurts.

Managing to get up, he spots a pile of books that he took off the shelves to, ironically, try and stay awake during the night. On account of his habit to set things on fire in his sleep. Among them were some sci-fi novels, one informative book concerning runes, one on the mythologies of the world he didn’t get to read in the previous library he squatted in, but he mostly read the sci-fi books he took. An adventure in space sounds so much more fun than possessing out of control magical abilities.

He’d come here with a specific book in mind- or rather, a specific genre of books- but found nothing helpful. He bends down with a groan and takes the pile to return the books to their proper shelves, though pretending that he can leave without leaving a trace of his presence behind is out the window now.

Giving the blackened shelf another look, he feels his gut growing cold in embarrassment. Why can’t he just make everything a little chilly in his sleep? Why does he have to commit arson? If he was more proficient in water and ice, perhaps he wouldn’t be so bothered by the cold either.

A shirt beneath a long-sleeved blouse underneath a flannel and all of that under a jacket and he’s still cold. Maybe it doesn’t help that it’s all old and worn either. His jeans are the newest thing he owns, because he outgrew his last pair. And a pair of jeans and a prosthetic leg simply don’t mix.

After returning the books, he uses the bathroom in the back, toiletries kept inside a plastic bag usually used to preserve all kinds of food in the freezer. He brushes his teeth, lets the hot water run over his hands in an attempt to feel just a tad bit warmer and soon after exits to collect his stuff. He gathers his plastic bag and blanket, stuffs them, a notebook, and his scraps from dinner in the backpack that’s just as worn out as his clothes are and then makes his leave.

Through the back door. Which is where he entered after closing time the night before.

Outside, the cold air greets him like a slap in the face and he immediately begins to shiver. Winter comes closer with every passing day and the wind just goes through his clothes as if they aren’t even there. Still, he bites through it. He knows he’s been taking a risk, squatting inside the same library for the past week, but he certainly won’t be able to return for another night. Not after practically setting fire to the shelf he’d curled up against.

Closing the door behind him, crouching in the barest light of dawn, he takes a look around to make sure this alley is as abandoned as it seems.

He closes his eyes and hovers his left hand over the lock. He knows there are words that could make this process easier, spells he can use, but they’ve never worked out for him.

Attempting to visualize the lock, feel the build of the mechanism, he imagines that he has the key. No wait, that he is the key and he can make those bolts and what-have-yous move. He concentrates, he just needs to convince it that they’re one and the same, his will is its as well.

There is that familiar tingling in his fingertips, that exhilarating sensation of his blood boiling, he can feel his heart beating beneath his sternum.

To his satisfaction- and relief- he hears that click he’s looking for. The back door is locked again.

Making sure one more time that he’s still alone, he stands and leaves to brave another cold day alone. Alone and with none of the answers he was hoping to find here.

[onceandfutureclotpoll]

Title: The Bet (The One with the Las Vegas Wedding)

Author: Detochkina

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Merlin Emrys is used to living life on the go. As an agent for the Agency of Magic, Merlin’s days are consumed by travel, exotic locations, and battling a faceless rival -- an officer from the competing Bureau of Corrections, who is always hot on his heels and ready to one-up him.

When Merlin is sent on a mission to Las Vegas to secure a powerful artifact, he allows himself one night off. Just one, because he bloody deserves it. Drinks and foreplay lead to a bet with a hot financial advisor he just met. Merlin ends up as a newlywed. Oops.

Part Two: