#but also toothless doing the cat thing of making sure his human is following the routine yes pls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

masterwords · 2 years ago

Note

I’d love “Five times Character A helped Character B up off the ground, plus one time B helped them up.” for Hotch and Jack.

Well...5.2k words later and we have whatever the hell this is! I love you for sending me this, but you might hate me for what I did with it. (No, I know you won't. I'm kidding.)

No ships. Just Hotch & Jack through the years (with Haley & Jess along the way). Lots of darkness, lots of light. Sweet and sour. lol

Warnings: Haley's death is mentioned, head injury, blood, grief...it's all mostly canon-compliant with 100, Route 66 & Mr. Scratch

(If anyone wants, I'm working through things very very slowly...like a damn turtle...but you can send me a 5+1 prompt if you want, I like that whole list. Please keep it to ships that I normally write for or request it as gen.)

(1)

Haley wants a shower. It's all she can think about. Her eyes are tired, it feels like real work to drag them open after she blinks but a shower will definitely fix that. It'll also fix the way her hair falls limp in her face every time she leans forward. She could really go for a wash and a blow dry. Soap feels like a luxury right now.

“Aaron?” She calls for him, and she smiles because he's home. He's actually home. Sure, he's working, but he's in his home office right down the hall and it makes her feel good. “Aaron can you come here please?”

“One minute!” His voice sounds light after a week off. Not really off, but not there, not in those walls, not staring at death. He's on light duty, just doing the grunt work so the team can focus on everything else. It was either that or he didn't take any time off at all...felt like an okay compromise. Earlier, while she prepared a bottle for Jack and threw out a dirty diaper, he rocked Jack and spoke to Gideon on the phone. Things were going well, better than she'd anticipated.

“I need a shower,” she announces the minute he walks into the open room. His eyes roam from her to Jack and back again before he cracks a smile and nods.

“I didn't want to say anything, but you are a little ripe...”

“Oh shut UP.” She extends her hand and he pulls her up, dipping her in a goofy attempt at clunky romance and kisses her. His eyes sparkle and she grins, but then he wrinkles his nose and says something about her needing to brush her teeth before letting her go down the hall. She flips him off as she walks out of the room.

He crouches, listens to the pop and click of his knees. They had only recently begun protesting. “Hey,” he says, staring at Jack curiously. Like he's an alien, something from another planet, and Jack kicks his chubby little legs. He can't help it, he pushes the tip of his finger into the little crease of his thigh, that magical place halfway between hip and knee that only babies seem to have. It's fleeting, like the soft spot on the top of his head that's perfect for kisses, perfect for breathing in that sweet baby smell.

Jack seems content, so he just crouches there and watches him. Those little eyes are blinking dreamy and slow around the room, taking it all in. He's only been here a week, he's so new, and everything is filled with some kind of filmy wonder. And truthfully, he's still a little wary. His big hands feel enormous and scary beside such a small little thing. He never wanted this, fatherhood, but he already can't imagine his life without it. That abrupt change frightens him.

Jack's legs start kicking furiously, he's rubbing his heels together as one knee straightens and then the other. The beginnings of a fit, tiny muscles tensing and relaxing. Soon his arms follow, and then his face scrunches up and he lets out the first wailing cry through his toothless little mouth. He snorts when he cries. It sounds more like an angry cat than a human and makes Hotch's stomach twist. He glances down the hallway and wonders how close Haley is to being done, knowing completely that this was on him.

He's not sure he's qualified for this. The fear settles into his belly.

With shaking hands, he reaches out, one on each side of his tiny little rib cage. He nudges his fingers under and begins to lift him before sliding one hand up behind Jack's head. Quickly, he's being raised to Hotch's chest and cradled there, still kicking his legs, still whimpering but the screams had ceased. Now he was staring up at Hotch's face, brow furrowed like a little mirror image of his father's thinking face, and Hotch smiles. It's not so scary now.

When Haley finishes, her entire countenance is brighter. She is smiling and her hair is fresh and the color of golden autumn straw. “Did he make a fuss?”

Hotch smiles, rocking Jack who is now sleeping against his forearm, one leg dangling over his wrist. His little toes twitch and Hotch bounces a little, just to keep him asleep. He makes it look easy. Haley knows otherwise, she can see the fading fear in his worn honey eyes. “Nothing I can't handle. Super dad to the rescue.” His words are flat but he's trying his best.

Haley's eyebrow quirks up and she can't help but smile. This isn't how she pictured any of it, but right now, somehow...it's better.

(2)

Hotch wonders what it was like to learn how to walk. He's watching Jack pull himself up on the couch, fat little legs unsteady but somehow so sure of himself. So much confidence. Each time he's up, he falls backward and lands with a bouncing little plop on his diaper. Padded falls. There is so much trust there. Jack will crane his neck backward to make sure Hotch is still there, eyes locking briefly, and then he's climbing again. It never seems to phase him when he falls on his butt again.

And again.

He never stops. Hotch shifts where he's sitting, stretches his legs out. His knees ache from sitting cross-legged too long. His feet are asleep.

And then it happens. Jack turns around to look at him, cracks this tiny little smile, and stands. But this time, his hands come free from their hold on the couch and he doesn't fall. His knees are locked and he's just...standing there. The way his eyes light up makes Hotch's heart come to a stop. He's afraid to move, he feels electric. One shift in the atmosphere might ruin it all so he doesn't even breathe.

Jack's toes twitch and scrunch up beneath him and he looks down, breaking the spell. Down he goes, thump, right on his butt. Hotch lets out the breath he was holding and waits for it. But there is no cry, he just sits there stunned at his accomplishment. Hotch finishes his coffee and rushes to work.

This becomes their morning routine. Every day, Haley showers and he sips his coffee on the floor with Jack. Just sitting there while it steams beside him, and Jack tries and fails over and over. He wonders if his mother remembers how long it took him to take a step.

He could ask her, but dredging up those memories feels like a minefield.

He was never as precocious as Jack, he knows that. His father had always called him slowpoke, like it was affectionate. “C'mere slowpoke,” he'd say with a smile, with a frown, all the time. For a while Hotch wondered if that wasn't his name. Slowpoke Hotchner, even his mother would say it. And he did, he walked slower, he did things slower. He was methodical and quiet, shy to a fault. He gave things more time and thought than anyone deemed necessary. He'd overheard his parents talking one night while he brushed his teeth, and his father said he might be “touched”...he didn't know what that meant but it sounded bad. When he asked his mother later what it meant, she only smiled her sad smile and said not to worry about it.

That made it worse. But the next time he heard it, he understood. “Is that boy touched in the head?!” It had come after he'd knocked a glass on the floor. He knew now to associate that with bad. Stupid. Slowpoke.

But Jack, he's not a slowpoke. He's careful. His eyes study the ground, the couch, his father behind him and now he stands. Days later, he just stands there swaying...and then his foot slides forward. Just one and it jerks his body enough that he falls, but his face...Hotch can't believe the exhilaration on his features.

“Haley!” he cries out, like something magical is about to happen and he can't imagine she's going to miss it. She rushes in, panting, her hair still half in curlers...and Jack crawls along the floor to his pacifier and grabs it, smushes it in his mouth, and lays down. His eyes are sleepy, he's done whatever he's going to do and that's it. Ready for his morning nap. It isn't a let down though, they can both feel it coming.

The next morning, they do it again. Only this time Jack's foot slides a little further and he looks...well he looks so thrilled, until his body careens to the side and he slams against the floor with his full force. He doesn't know enough to try and catch his fall and Hotch knows instinctively that Jack expected his hands to be there...but they weren't. They're both crushed in different ways, and when Jack screams, Hotch stretches his arms out and pulls the crying almost-toddler into his arms. He cradles him there, one large hand splayed against the back of Jack's head that has just made unfortunate contact with the floor, and he feels the hot sting of tears too. They're both crying. “I know buddy, I know. I'm so sorry...”

Jack takes his first steps when Hotch is on a case, halfway across the country. After all those mornings, he misses it.

Haley sends him a grainy little cell phone video, and he's absurdly happy in spite of missing those first real steps. He was there for the building. He doesn't show anyone at work because he can't imagine them caring that much, but he desperately wants to shout it from the rooftops.

(3)

“Mommy and I, we're going to do things a little different now.” That was what he said, because he didn't know what else to say. How does he look his child in the eye and say he's failed? Well, he has. And maybe that's what he's saying in his own cowardly way.

Jack doesn't cry. “You still love mommy?” he asks, and Hotch can't help nodding. He doesn't even think about it. What a silly question. He loves Haley to the ends of the earth, but he no longer serves a purpose in her life except to make it harder. “You still love me?”

“Always,” he says, his voice thick with tears. It's the first time he's cried over Haley leaving, over her filing for divorce. This was supposed to be forever, didn't she remember the vows? But, as Jessica would argue over coffee a week later, didn't he remember his vows? To love, honor and cherish...yeah he loved her, but what about the other parts? Things get lost along the way, he figures. There are no saints here, only sinners.

“It's okay daddy. Don't cry.”

In Jack's simplistic way, he puts a band-aid on the pain. Hotch has to go, his team is on a case and he needs to be there. They're waiting on him. But his son is sitting on the floor in a pile of legos and right outside the door Haley's listening to make sure he doesn't say anything untoward. Nothing to spin this, or her, in a negative light. She knows he won't, but she's hurting and she's wound up. He doesn't say a thing.

And yet she can't help but think about the man who used to compromise. The man who tried to give his entire self to her and their life when he had time, but now...now he doesn't make the time to even try. A shift happened and she knew without a doubt that it would get worse, and wasn't it better to cut and run while they still had a chance at making diamonds from the dust? She was doing this for all of them and she hoped that someday he would see that.

He bends over and lifts Jack into his arms, hugging him close. His back protests the weight of the child, he's getting so big and this is a dead lift. “Daddy has to go now,” he whispers. “I'll see you soon. Take care of mommy, okay?”

“Okay daddy.”

(4)

The house is quiet. It's eerie, there are so many people and yet...he can't hear any of them. Feet falling on once plush carpet, now trodden and blood stained. Shattered glass everywhere, in his hair, at his feet. Blurred faces, familiar but far away, he's in a world of his own. And then he wakes up and he knows that he's been dreaming again.

He's left only with loneliness and regret. His shoulders ache as he pulls his jacket on and he wonders why he's doing this at all. No one wants him there. He doesn't want him there.

But he shows up and he gives his speech and he honors her better in death than he did in life, of that he's certain now.

He visits her graveside, stares at the marker with her name written in block letters by someone who never met her in life. There will be a beautifully engraved headstone soon, but not yet. These things don't just happen overnight, and no one expects to make a marble headstone for a young woman in her prime.

The day it's placed, he takes off of work. Tells Dave he's got to take care of some things and right now everything is so fresh and they're worried enough about him that no one questions him. Derek is glad to take the reigns, attend budget meetings, do whatever he has to. Hotch folds peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in wax paper and shoves them into little paper lunch sacks with mandarin oranges and Capri Suns. Jack's favorite lunch.

They sit by her headstone with a bouquet of flowers handpicked by Jack and play a game of Go Fish. Jack is so little he doesn't really understand why they're eating lunch in the weird park with no playground, but he watches his father eating the sandwich curiously slow, like it's making him sick to put the food into his mouth. Truthfully, it is. He hasn't eaten a full meal in weeks. But he's got to start doing better for Jack, so he does.

One sticky bite at a time. Slowly, eyes barely focused on what he's doing, he pokes the straw into their Capri Suns and watches Jack slurp his happily.

It's apple juice. He likes all the flavors fine, but apple is his favorite.

“Daddy, can mommy hear us?”

The question catches him off guard and he clears his throat, setting down what's left of his sandwich. He thought he'd eaten a lot but really he's barely touched it. His stomach cramps. “I like to think so.”

“Can I talk to her by myself?”

Hotch closes his eyes and nods before pushing up to his feet. His knees protest angrily, he's still stiff and sore weeks after his battle with Foyet, and he offers Jack a small smile. “I'll take a little walk, okay buddy? You talk to mommy all you want.”

Jack beams, and Hotch walks away slowly. He keeps his eye on Jack who spreads the blanket on the little patch of marble beneath the headstone and lays himself down there. Curls up on his side like he would in his bed, and Hotch doesn't see any further movement. He wanders around the little path, watching the headstones wind around him like baby teeth speckling the field. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Jack, until finally he thinks it's been long enough and comes slowly back to their picnic.

Jack is asleep with his hand just beneath her name. He looks so peaceful.

Hotch sits and finishes his sandwich, just him and his tears, before he packs everything up and lifts Jack's sleeping body into his arms.

At home, they nap in his bed and they both sleep well into the evening. He doesn't dream of the house, of the glass, of her body. He doesn't dream at all, and for that he's grateful.

(5)

The hospital room was noisy at first. All day, people in and out. Penelope had stayed to visit with Jessica long past the time she was needed, and Hotch just slept through all of it. He had wanted to stay awake, it just wasn't possible. Tiny droplets on a glass pond, ripples in the bag and then a hissing sound before a dose would snake its way through the tubing and into his waiting vein. Over and over, time irrelevant except when the pain crept through and then he would watch and wait again. How many times he had no idea, but those last few minutes before another dose were his only lucid spells in his bone deep exhaustion.

They'd fixed him, but he didn't feel much better.

The team came through, trickled one by one after getting off the jet. First Derek who had been silently on edge the entire time and snapping at people a little more than necessary. He didn't stay long, just enough to see him lying there asleep. JJ and Spencer hung around for a few minutes in the hopes that he would wake, but they were exhausted so they wrote a silly little note for him on the whiteboard beside his current nurse's name and left. Dave stayed the longest, made himself a cup of waiting room coffee and visited with Jessica.

Jessica. The only constant. She'd come with Jack and hadn't left. She was just biding her time until she could load him in her little Subaru and drive him home.

While all of this happened, Jack sat curled up on the floor beneath the doctor's desk with a book. For the longest time, Hotch forgot he was even there. He forgot a lot of things.

“I'm starving,” Jess announced, seeing the weary look in Hotch's eyes. He'd woken midway through her conversation with Dave and now he was holding onto being awake so desperately for Dave's sake that he looked peaky and pinched. She couldn't let it continue, he needed to sleep. “Dave, would you like to have dinner with me? I hear the cafeteria is featuring Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes tonight. My treat.”

Dave isn't keen on anything she said, but he also knows what she's doing. He's being asked to leave in a way that Hotch won't argue with and he's more than a little impressed with her skillful mastery of his reactions. She presses a kiss to Hotch's clammy forehead and smiles.

“Sleep, you.”

He hums in response and after whispering a brief goodbye to Dave, his eyes drift shut. He's nearly engulfed in the black pool of dreams when he hears a faint rustling, like pages turning, and then a sniffle. It takes him a full minute to realize what it is, that Jess has left Jack in the room with him. He licks his dry lips and tries to speak but his mouth won't work, his vocal chords are a desert and the arid wind that blows through them carries no tune. He's out of breath after two attempts, his body failing him so completely.

And still, he doesn't know what possessed him, but he shifts in the bed and slides his legs over the edge. He's not supposed to get up, not on his own, but here he is planting his bare feet on the cold floor. One and then two, he wiggles his toes to life and focuses himself in order to push up and away from the bed. It takes more effort than he really has in order to achieve it, and for a moment he thinks he's going to fall but some deep reserve of strength (another page flipped) guides his feet into motion. One large hand splayed against his midsection, its gaping wound still fresh and barely stitched together (another page flipped), his other hand firmly against the bed, he makes his way toward Jack. Just a few steps, not even far enough to tangle his cords or bring up the alarms. (Another page flipped. This time it's more hesitant.)

“Jack?” His voice barely works, like a gentle breeze through reeds in the summer and Jack peeks up at his father from beneath the desk. He looks too sad, too grown, and Hotch tries to force a weary smile. Tries to conjure up the images of that newborn baby, that toddler just learning to walk, the days when Jack looked at him with wonder instead of fear and sadness. “Come out of there, please?”

Jack stares at him and shrugs before looking back down at his book. He's feigning disinterest, protecting himself. Hotch feels his chest constrict painfully and the heart monitor speeds up. “Jack?” He extends his hand to the boy who won't even look at him now. A large tear lands with a plop right on the page he's looking at, soaking in and spreading over the tiny black print. And then another. “Jack, please.”

Jack finally give in and takes his hand, and Hotch pulls him upright. It hurts his stomach and the instant pain makes the heart monitor jump again, but he pays it little mind because he's about to make it worse. Jack looks up at him and Hotch can't help it, he sees Haley there for a moment, when she was innocent, when she still looked at him like he could move mountains and all she wanted was to stand beside him while he did it. Back when he hadn't taken all of her joy and all of her wonder, before he made her choose between him and happiness. There was a time those two were synonymous, he was one with her happiness, and somewhere they separated. But for Jack, there was still that spark, faded as it were.

He pulls Jack against him, grunts when Jack hugs him a little too tight. He holds his breath and sees stars, splotches of white coursing over his vision but he doesn't ask Jack to stop. He would rather pass out than make Jack step back. “Dad,” Jack whispers. “Are you gonna die?”

Hotch can't find his breath. He's barely standing and is glad for Jessica's sudden intrusion. He doesn't want to hear that question, let alone answer it. “Aaron!” she exclaims, rushing toward the two of them standing there. “You aren't supposed to be up...god, you could have fallen...what were you thinking?”

The look on his face, the exhaustion in his eyes, Jack with his face buried in Hotch's belly tells her all she needs to know and she nods. They don't have to say it. “Come on, back to bed you. I brought you some juice.”

(6)

There is an air of some strange electricity in the apartment. He's been wandering between these walls for two days now, restless. Jack is at school, and then he does his homework at Jessica's house before coming home. Just to give Hotch some time to himself, maybe, he's not really sure. He's got a concussion, it's a bad one this time, but he suspects there's more to it. Some aftershock of Peter Lewis' cocktail that she knows about...Dave called her, he knows it. Keeping her in the loop. But she leaves Jack there overnight so she must not be too scared of him or what he can do.

He's harmless, though, he's fairly certain. Can barely hold his head up for longer than a few minutes at a time before the intense throbbing starts in his temples like a university marching band during the homecoming game. This concussion hurts worse than some in the past. Some of it, he thinks, must be because of the filmy memories that Peter Lewis put there...memories he would carry forever...memories of things that never happened. He dreams of Derek's blood on his cheek, and for ten minutes after he holds his phone with trembling hands wondering whether he should call or text.

Again.

Just to make sure.

But he clicks into his last texts from Derek and they're only from earlier that day. Derek checking up on him.

How do you feel?

Better, thanks.

Short and sweet, no follow up, and he knows part of it is Derek making sure that he knows what he saw wasn't real. It's not a fun game and he's just wishing for his moments of being lucid to turn into hours to turn into days and to forget these false memories entirely.

Jessica drops Jack off just after she feeds him dinner, and she brings Hotch a plate made just for him. Macaroni and cheese. Meatloaf. Green beans. Jessica cooks like her mom, like all the moms he grew up with. She's never stopped envisioning the food groups set out sectioned off on a plate. If all of them are eating together, she'll even butter a plate of bread for the middle of the table and serve everyone a glass of milk. She's a trip and he mocks her endlessly for it.

“I am going to watch you eat,” she threatens, unwrapping the wobbly plastic after heating the plate in the microwave. It's steaming and he realizes he hasn't eaten anything at all that day.

She leaves when she's convinced herself he means to eat. A few green beans, a bite of macaroni and she's satisfied that he's going to eat it. Sometimes she has too much faith in him. Then it's just he and Jack while he puts the plate into the fridge to eat later. He's just not hungry. He's not allowed to watch TV yet, or read books, nothing too taxing. Even those few seconds on his phone checking his texts are more than he's supposed to do until his doctor clears him, so he lays on the couch with his eyes closed beneath a cool wash cloth while Jack watches a show. It's not even tempting for him to try and watch.

They do fine until the apartment is quiet, until it's all dark. That's when the memories start to flicker to life like old black and white film. Everything is disjointed, he hears sounds and feels things that never happened and then Derek's blood is on his face warm and fresh. He wakes with a start and stifles the cry, pretends it didn't happen. He can't wake Jack.

He's thirsty. Slowly, he wills his aching body out of the bed and his legs decide to give out. Right there beside his bed like a toddler's first failed steps. His head spins dangerously and the earth is rocking beneath him. He came down hard on his knees and now they're throbbing in time with his head.

Some part of him thinks it's so bizarre that he questions whether he's still in the dream, whether this is real. The world feels on a delay, like he's watching things happen a moment before they actually do. He's living in the future and the past, his present is nothing but mist.

He's on the floor. He knows he's on the floor, but the room keeps changing. Shifting around him.

Blinking changes it every time.

He tries and fails to get up to his feet. There is darkness creeping toward him, threatening to swallow him, and he tries again to get up but his knees just won't do what they're told.

Footsteps, small and hesitant, creep down the hallway. A voice far away. He can't trust his senses. Hasn't been able to for days now but it's worse at night, worse after sleep.

“Dad?”

He sucks in a breath and holds perfectly still. He's sitting beside his bed, his back to the mattress, facing the door. His knees are pulled to his chest like a child, fingers rubbing at the sore places he landed on absentmindedly, like it'll help. Like that's the problem. And there is Jack looking small but also somehow impossibly grown. “Dad are you okay?”

He mumbles something that he knows is incoherent and scares Jack because suddenly Jack's hand is slamming down on his cell phone and he's pressing a button. It's not 911, it's Jess.

“Aunt Jessica? Something's wrong with dad...”

He blinks owlishly up at Jack and tries to listen to the conversation, he keeps the volume on his phone up so loud as his hearing gets worse. Nothing breaks through the muffled chaos in his head though, but soon Jack is rushing out of the room and coming back with something shiny and silver in his hand. For a split second Hotch cowers, it's a gun his mind tells him it's a gun. Where would Jack get that? He panics, and then Jack extends it to him and he blinks again.

Capri Sun. It's apple juice in a tiny little foil pouch. He takes it warily and with trembling hands fumbles at the little yellow straw, trying to break it free. Yeah, this is going to help...he hasn't eaten more than a few bites of food in days, this is going to help.

But he can't get to the straw, his fingers won't work. Jack drops to his knees with the phone still in his hand and he trades his dad. Gives him the phone, takes the drink pouch. Hotch doesn't do anything with the phone, though, he knows already that Jess is on her way so he watches Jack with fascination instead. Steady hands pulling the glue apart and opening the tiny yellow straw, poking it through the foil and into the pouch just the right way. He wonders how many times in their lives he's done this simple task for Jack, remembers the first time Jack tried it on his own and jammed the sharp end of the straw all the way through the pouch spilling juice everywhere. All of this goes through his mind and he smiles because those memories are all absolutely real.

He sips the cold juice, feels the way the sugar coats his tongue and instantly he feels revived. And stupid, so stupid, letting his blood sugar drop so low that he scares his son.

“I'm sorry, Jack,” he whispers and the words come out correctly. Jack stands and reaches out his hand, helping Hotch to his feet and onto his bed so he can finish his juice more comfortably. Jack is big enough to help him up. His hand is engulfed in Hotch's but he's strong, he's growing, soon his hand won't disappear like that inside of his father's. He used to cradle Jack's entire little body there, and now his hand just barely fits. Time is a thief.

“Aunt Jess will be here soon,” Jack says and Hotch nods. He knows. He'll have more apologizing to do, as always, but for the first time in days Hotch knows that no matter what tricks are being played on him, this has to be real.

Peter Lewis dealt in fear and in pain. He could never conjure a vision so serene, so inherently good as Jack and this Capri Sun.

#aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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knowerofuselessfacts · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 4,537 times in 2022

That's 674 more posts than 2021!

317 posts created (7%)

4,220 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lifbitch

@evilwriter37

@ashleybenlove

@seven-of-seven

@derinthescarletpescatarian

I tagged 974 of my posts in 2022

#food - 50 posts

#long post - 50 posts

#gravity falls - 45 posts

#stanley pines - 38 posts

#cats - 32 posts

#dogs - 31 posts

#lol - 29 posts

#httyd - 29 posts

#how to train your dragon - 22 posts

#fanart - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i waited to see if she'd figure it out but then she started making the 'actually starting to get distressed about this' cries so i helped

My Top Posts in 2022:

I love having disabled friends because they’re so much more understanding when I say “my symptoms are getting really bad, I have to go”. Disabled folk are like “yes, please, shoo before you get hurt”. This is an appropriate response. A lot of non-disabled people act as if it’s a huge hassle.

26 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

I really wish people would understand that when it comes to LGBTQIA+ identities, "I don't get it but I respect you" is good??? Do not make fun of identities you "dont get". You don't *have* to get it. The human experience is weird and chaotic and that's why it's beautiful

28 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Strange Gifts

Apparently I wrote a bittersweet Valentine’s Day Vigcup fic for @evilwriter37. Hope you like it!

Rating: General Audiences

Pairings: Vigcup, Hiccstrid

Characters: Hiccup Haddock III, Viggo Grimborn, Astrid Hofferson, Toothless

Warnings: None that I would have to mark on AO3, Not exactly HTTYD 3 compliant, Viggo Lives.

Of course, it’s on Ao3 if you want an easier reading experience: Strange Gifts

But also under a read more if the hellsite is more your speed:

It was the winter after they left the Edge, Stoick had thrown Hiccup into the deep end. His days were filled with shadowing his farther in decision making, aiding repairs, wrangling Sven’s sheep that got out for the millionth time (and this time they were not allowed a dragon race). The moments he could get to himself during the day, used to take care of his leg and Toothless’s saddle and fin from the cold, weren’t enough to refresh his mind. As he shlumped into his room, body sagging from the exhaustion of the day, he almost didn’t notice the small bottle on his bedside table. He looked at it, not remembering putting it there, and picked it up, examining it. It was a nicer bottle of ink than he had ever bought himself, he could never justify the cost for a bottle this nice, let alone the quality of the contents. Suspicion grew when Toothless sniffed the bottle and the room, narrowing his eyes with a slight growl, but he never found the source, nothing else had been changed in his room.

A year later, he had nearly forgotten about the bottle of ink. His mind was on other things, mending the frayed edges of his and Toothless’s relationship-- it wasn’t his fault but they both needed to remember that-, making sure the tribe had enough rations to last the cold months that remained—especially if they ran long, getting Gobber to stop being pushy about his and Astrid’s relationship, building a relationship with his mother, keeping Ruffnut from harassing Eret too much, and more filled the list. But when he went to his room, still up the stairs—he couldn’t bear to take his father’s room even though he was told he could—on his table he found an intricately carved comb and case, laid out as if to show its impressive craftsmanship. Surrounded by patterns on the edges of the case, was a stylized Night Fury, missing the left tail fin. Yet, there was no trace of whoever left it. It raised his concerns for a few weeks, with the look that Toothless gave it after smelling the room, not quite furious, but definitely giving the item a suspicious glare.

Somehow, the gifts had followed him to New Berk, the same time of year, another obviously well-crafted item, a cloak pin made of gold that looked nearly woven into the shape of dragons curled around each other. This time, since in New Berk his sense of smell was better during winter compared to original Berk for some reason he couldn’t explain, he could smell a slight amount of ash and ozone. He took it to the other Dragon Riders, explaining that this was the third year in a row, that nothing else had ever changed, but Toothless had always seemed suspicious, and they had followed them. With the smell of ash, he was worried it was a threat, although it was rather expensive for a threat. For the safety of their people, they kept an eye out for clues for whomever must have followed them. They found nothing, not even any suspicious footprints outside of Hiccup and Astrid’s home.

This time, he had nearly expected the item on his table when he came back from his duties. A leather-bound book awaited him, the designed tooled into the leather made him feel like he was missing something, as if he knew what it was but couldn’t bring it to the front of his mind. Inside was details of some of the locations of useful herbs and plants within the woods and along the neighboring islands, although he was suspicious of the gifts still and the writing itself also triggered the nagging feeling as if he recognized it but couldn’t place it, he couldn’t say he was completely ungrateful. They still had much to learn about the area and knowing that Gothi and her future replacement would have the herbs she needed to take care of the tribe’s health took some of the weight off the young chief’s shoulders.

To the concern of the tribe, thunder-snow had come upon their new home, but it wasn’t the only commotion of the day. It had started slow, with Terrible Terrors flocking to Gothi all to familiarly, but over the day, the dragons had found them, as if they missed them too much to stay away even for their own safety. Toothless had greeted Hiccup with a lick all up his front, and Hiccup struggled to even pretend to be mad about it not washing out. The Light Fury had followed Toothless, but stayed away from the people, instead leading several other dragons into the woods. He couldn’t figure out what changed, or why they were back, but having his best friend back made him feel more complete, even as he argued with Toothless that they had to go back for their own safety. Toothless merely made a judging face, nudged Astrid’s stomach incredibly gently, before looking at Hiccup as if he was asking ‘You think we aren’t raising our hatchlings together?’ Hiccup stared at Astrid, question in his eyes, and grinned as she nodded back. It was only as he walked back into their room when he remembered the time of year, only reminded by the darkened silver and ruby pendant, that must have been custom due to its similarity to Toothless. He looked out the window, wondering if he could see any trace of who left it, and once again was met with nothing. But when he looked at the sky, he could have sworn he saw the shape of a Skrill with a person on its back illuminated by the lightning. The pieces clicked in his mind, the reason everything was so obviously expensive, well-crafted, the familiar handwriting-- if a bit changed, the familiar patterns, and why they had smelled faintly like ozone when he noticed it. He couldn’t be certain, he had never actually seen a trace of the man—he kept his word, but he knew.

44 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

Headcanon time!

I dont know how it works, but Titan Wing Skrills definitely can have storms following them.

52 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Twitter: Oh no! Musk is buying Twitter! We'll have to go back to ... *shudders* .... Tumblr....

Tumblr: Just some volcanoes sitting here

89 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post

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companion-of-the-dragonmark · 4 years ago

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My HTTYD Books Fanfic Ideas

Greetings, my fellow Dragonmarkers! I just wanted to post this for you guys as I tell you what my plans are in regards to fanfics for the HTTYD Book Fandom.

Besides my “A Birthday to Remember” short story which is still in-progress, and the odd one-shot, here are some projects that I’d like to do for 2020-2022:

Companions of the Dragonmark — Platonic Pairings Series

This work, as you already know from a previous post, focuses on platonic pairings in this series. There will be various types, such as human/dragon, human/weapon, human/human, human/pet, etc. Also includes friends, family, mentor/student, and stranger relationships. This will be the main series I will be working on after “A Birthday to Remember”.

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Antagonistic Pairings Series

This work is something that I’ve just recently came up with, which focuses on antagonistic pairings. This can be pairings between hero/villain, villain/villain, villain/antagonist, hero/antagonist, antagonist/antagonist, etc. Pairings can include, Hiccup and Alvin, Snotlout and Thuggory, Alvin and Excellinor, UG the Uglithug and Excellinor, Madguts and Big Bertha, Snotlout and Hiccup, etc.

I’m liking this because nobody really writes fanfics that focuses on antagonistic pairings. Only romantic and platonic pairings.

What do you guys think?

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Wilderwest Whumpfest

This idea was cooked up thanks to recent posts announcing Whumptober 2020. Granted, I don’t plan on doing it for this Fandom, but I do plan on still doing this work — a collection of one-shots focusing on whumping various characters in the series. I’d LOVE to hear what you’d like to see and if this sounds like a great idea. ^_^

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A Tale of Two Swords

This idea has been stewing in the back of mind for about a year now. This is basically a story told from the perspective of Endeavor, the Dragonsword, as he narrates the story and tells us how he came to be and we’ll see his thoughts and perspective not only throughout the lives of Hiccup the First and his line, but also Grimbeard the Ghastly, Hiccup the Second, and Hiccup the Third, and following up all up into the finale of Book 12. Essentially, this IS a Saga. Somewhere along the way, the Stormblade will be introduced and we’ll get into his POV as well once he is born. needless to say that there’ll be a rivalry between the two — though Endeavor just doesn’t care and ignores Stormblade whenever possible. I mean, the Dragonsword is around 1000 years old already, and the Stormblade is acting all macho for a newborn hunk of shiny metal. In Endeavor’s “eyes”, Stormblade be an infant. lol XD

Also, I just REALLY love Endeavor. (I have an old post that talks all about that here.) One of my favorite characters in the series, despite it being a sword and not a human or an animal character. But I can feel him humming with personality... if that makes sense? But I’ve always had a special love for personification. Ever since I was young and studied literature in middle school, personification has always been my most favorite plot device. I can’t really explain why. Maybe it’s because it’s fun? Getting into the minds of inanimate objects, animals, nature, etc and imagining what they would say and act and feel if they could speak and communicate? It’s fun for ME, at least. ^_^

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Exile on Cannibal Isle

This story idea is another one that’s been stewing in my brain for about a year or less, give or take. (I’m quite proud of the title, if I do say so myself. Hehe.) This is basically a what-if scenario, a canon divergence, that focuses on what would happen should Hiccup and the others were exiled the night that they should’ve been. That would’ve been interesting to see. I mean, of course, it would mean that 800+ Hooligans and Meatheads would perish, but such is the life of a Saga character(s). ^_^

Other alternative (and more likely) scenarios could be:

1) Hiccup, Thuggory, and the others still get banished after the demise of the Green Death (because Vikings are jerks).

or 2) Hiccup fails to get Toothless in time so he ends up being the only one in his group to NOT have a dragon, and thus is immediately exiled (in winter, yay).

(If you guys can come up with better scenarios, let me know.)

Now, Cannibal Isle is on the map on the Book of Dragons extra book. You won’t find it anywhere else. (That being said, the Isle DOES get mentioned by Hiccup in the epilogue of Book 4: “How to Cheat a Dragon’s Curse”. Only other time.)

Now in Book 1, while they mention that the kids will be exiled on the Mainland, it mentions cannibals. Of course, in Book 8, it mentions that the Vikings of the Western Archipelago hate sailing anywhere near the Eastern side (the Mainland), so it seems contradictory, in my opinion, for them to send the kids there into exile. So when I saw this map, and saw that there was an island called “Cannibal Isle”, it made sense to me. A place where cannibals exist, and it’s close by from the Inner Isles.

What do you think? Should they be exiled on Cannibal Isle or on the Mainland? Which sounds better?

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Thuggory’s Tale

This story idea is yet another one that I’ve been thinking on doing for awhile now. This essentially is Thuggory’s story, and focuses on HIS POV throughout the 12 books — including and especially his views and thoughts concerning Hiccup. I mean, the guy DESERVES to have a book that’s all about HIM, right?! He’s so cool! I’m such a Thuggory fan! I wish I had a brother like him. I envy Hiccup. lol ^_^

The bromance is strong with this one. lol XD

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Quest for Wilderwest — Quest for Camelot AU

This work, as you already know on a previous post, will be a Quest for Camelot AU involving the HTTYD Book characters. Since I’ve already gotten a lot of feedback on this already, I might end up doing this story first as my first multi-chapter story. But we’ll see. ;-)

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Fishlegs’s Impossible Quest 2

This work I just thought up about a month ago. This is what the title says. Fishlegs SECOND Quest! This time, trying to win Barbara’s hand in marriage — much to Hiccup’s ire. (What is with this guy and these Valkyrie princesses?) I’m debating whether Hiccup should tag along, or if he should stay since he IS the KING. Maybe give Fishlegs Camicazi, instead? Along with some warriors from his Tribe, of course. Him being a Chief and all that. Needless to say, Hiccup and Camicazi will NEEEEVER let Fishlegs live this one down, regardless if he succeeds or not.

Speaking of which, SHOULD I have Fishlegs succeed? Or should I let him fail... again? I mean, would Barbara even be interested in a guy who’s allergic to her CAT?!

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The Wilderwest Saga

The title is what it says it is. It’s about the story AFTER the series, that focuses on the reign of King Hiccup the Third and co. and how the Wilderwest came to be, what Hiccup did during his life, his future wife and family, etc. It’ll also focus on the other characters and their lives as well. I’m very excited about this one as well. And I’m sure you are, too.

Maybe I’ll get lucky one day and Cressida Cowell will read it and be like, “Oh, what a great idea! I’ll write a sequel series focusing on Hiccup the Third’s reign and finally bring a conclusion to Hiccazi.”

I mean, it’s wishful thinking, but a guy can dream, can’t he? lol XD

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Hiccup the First’s Saga

This work will be a Saga focusing on Hiccup the First and his story, from his birth, to the events of the First Dragon War, to him being the First King and the details of his reign, of his conflict against the Romans and the Uglithugs — essentially filling out the blanks in the life of one extraordinary character that most resembles Hiccup the Third.

Hiccup the Second’s Saga

This work will be focusing on Hiccup the Second’s story, and will be the sequel of Grimbeard’s Saga (or Hiccup the First’s Saga). It will focus on his life with the dragons, his reunion with his father, his life at the palace, his adventures, his conflicts with his father and eldest brother... his death (which, even in a saga, was messed up).

Oh, aaaaand I might have him find love as well. Hehe. Because the books never specify how old he was when he died. And if he was a rebel and went to the library, spoke Dragonese, took the Dragonmark, freed the slaves multiple times, I have a feeling that Hiccup might’ve fallen in love with one of these slaves and married her in secret and had a child through her, whose line eventually led to the Druid Guardian.

So, yeah, this Saga’s gonna get messy... and juicy. Hehe. ^_^

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Possible Projects:

Hiccup the Third’s Saga

This work will be a more realistic version of the HTTYD Book series — similar to what you’d see in a Viking Saga, like those for the other two Hiccups. However, this does not mean that the plot will be seriously changed. It just means that I’ll be getting rid of some of the more... exaggerated and absurd parts of the plot that wouldn’t happen in real life. I’ll also be getting rid of the horned helmets and make the Tribes more Viking-y. And I’ll be adding more historical elements into the story, along with those of the previous two Hiccups.

I’m debating whether to get rid of the Dragonese/talking dragons element to the story (having it like the movie franchise), or if I should keep it. What do you think?

Termagant’s Tale

This work will be a story focusing on Fishlegs’s mother, Termagant. How she grew up, how she lived, how she met and fell in love with Alvin the Fake Fisherman, how she felt when he disappeared and how she gave birth... and how she was forced to get rid of her baby. Every single thing. I’m not sure whether to do this from Termagant’s POV, or if I should do it through the eyes of Arrogance, Patience, and Innocence, her Deadly Shadow, and have it be as if they’re telling Fishlegs the tale of his mother from their eyes.

What do you think?

Grimbeard the Ghastly’s Saga

This work will be focusing on the life of Grimbeard the Ghastly, from his birth to his death. Every detail will be noted, every story shall be heard, and every scene shall be seen. Even the stories of him that you DO know won’t tell you everything. This Saga will further detail and add on to those stories. Including his marriage to Chinhilda, his war against the Uglithugs, his raiding expeditions, his reign as King, his questionable and outright foolish decisions — the whole shebang!

Disclaimer: While I will try my very best, it is most likely that he won’t be such a nice and relatable character to like.

Modern AU series

This work will a collection of one-shots focusing on the HTTYD Book characters in the modern day. The reason why I have this here, rather than farther up, is because I don’t have many ideas for one-shots in this AU. So I would appreciate any prompts and character choices to help me in this, and maybe I might just get working on this if I end up getting enough.

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Anyway, these are the projects that I hope to do in the next couple of years. (If I’m still alive by then, that is.) These stories will probably take time and I’ll probably be focusing on the top 3 since they’ll be one-shots, basically, so they’ll be easier for me to write. But I will be choosing a multi-chapter story idea and working on it.

While I won’t be working on these quite as much since I have other accounts and other Fandoms that I place higher priorities on, I will be working on these as much as I can, despite my schedule. This Fandom holds a special place in my heart and I want to contribute as much as I can so that fans can continue reading recent fanfics for this precious Fandom. ^_^

So tell me what you think? Any titles that interest you? Let me know either in the comments or reblogs.

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melodiouswhite · 5 years ago

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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.

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #ocs #loss #grief #mournin #comfort

13 notes · View notes

nerddface · 6 years ago

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The Fight & The Fall

Characters: Eret, Son of Eret , Reader

Warnings: Nothing :)

Word count: 2600 whew

Notes: this is v late and has a v bad cheesy title. Shoutout to Men in Tights for the reference ;)

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Eret wasn’t even on Y/N’s radar. She had bigger priorities than this new human member of their team, like figuring out how they were going to integrate another dragon with her incredibly sensitive scaredy-cat of a dragon. Muds was small for a Stormcutter, only slightly more than half the size of her cousin, Cloudjumper, and somewhat dim in comparison, as well. The sharp, innate ability of Stormcutters to distinguish between friend and foe was duller in this poor creature, and it took some doing to earn her trust. Because of her size (or lack thereof), she was meticulous about knowing who was in her surroundings. She knew where every other dragon in a formation was, and attacked just about anything out of place. It took several weeks, quick reflexes, and dozens of treats to teach her a new strategy, and that was just with the original five, familiar dragons. The momentary addition of Heather back on the Edge hadn’t gone well, and Y/N and Muds were grounded most of her stay. Just looking at Eret’s loud, brash Rumblehorn gave her a headache.

Muds, of course, didn’t like him, either. She had a particularly difficult time understanding the shift between “Strange-Hostile-Person-Whom-We’ve-Never-Met” to “Eret-Now-A-Friend-Of-Dragons”. Stoick had visited infrequently with Skullcrusher before, so they were essentially starting from square one. Stormfly, bless her, had done her best to show the younger dragon that the new additions to their team were not threats, but poor Muds just hadn’t grasped the concept yet. Y/N kept Muds and herself at a distance from them, only exchanging short words with Eret over supper to remain civil. He seemed to keep his distance, as well, perhaps not fond of being the odd one out as the new guy, not to mention Ruffnut would hardly leave him alone. Y/N knew too well what the twins’ attention meant, in any capacity, and she couldn’t blame Eret for being scarce.

Hiccup, apparently, had had more than enough of both of their reclusive habits and had called them to the arena at the crack of dawn. He stood now with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand gripping a leather-bound notebook and a stick of charcoal, considering both of them across the sizeable distance they’d put between each other.

“Closer.”

A glance over at Eret revealed to Y/N he was just as confused as she was. “What?”

“We’re here to acclimatize Muds to Skullcrusher, and, by extent, the two of you. That’s not going to happen if you’re standing an ocean apart. A step closer won’t kill you.”

Y/N frowned, but took a step forward. Muds followed close at her back, her head swiveling and the end of her tail flicking as she tried to make sense of the two across the stone from her.

Eret followed, Skullcrusher rumbled up behind him, and Muds chittered.

“I have an idea.” Hiccup leveled both of them with his I-mean-business look. “It should work if both of you cooperate.”

Y/N shrugged. ”Yeah.” Eret also nodded his agreement.

“Great. It’s pretty simple. Eret, Muds is comfortable with Y/N, and the smell of Y/N. I want you to wear her cloak, and Y/N can re-introduce you slowly. Muds may be a little easier to convince that you’re friendly if you smell friendly.”

Surprisingly, it worked. By working gradually, with plenty of gentle assurances and praise on Y/N’s part, Eret could stroke both of Muds’ sides from nose to tail, and Skullcrusher could make a full, slow circle around her at a moderate pace, even without Y/N’s scent draped over them.

“Great,” their leader conceded after about an hour of exercises. “We’ll pick back up tomorrow morning. Y/N, I’d recommend giving Muds a good break.”

Eret handed Y/N her cloak back, and their hands brushed momentarily. She threw it over her shoulders, catching a hint of his scent still clinging to the material. For some reason, it made her strangely nervous. She decided she was not a fan.

“Wonderful. Great lesson. Bye, Hiccup, bye, Emmet.”

Eret didn’t have enough time to process what she’d said and correct her before she was swinging herself into her saddle and taking to the air.

Hiccup sighed and scribbled something in his notebook, leaving them in momentary silence, save for the skittering of dragon claws on the stone as Toothless tracked circles around a disinterested Skullcrusher.

“Sort of quiet, isn’t she?” Eret commented, watching her and Muds leave the arena behind. Hiccup tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chortling laugh, and the newest rider turned to him with a frown.

“What?”

“Y/N is anything but quiet. We thought the same thing, at first, but don’t let it fool you. She’s got a tongue sharp enough to cut off that fluffy braid of yours.”

“Really?” He paused before asking further, “Why doesn’t she speak to me?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Sometimes I’m not sure if her or her dragon is more wary of strangers. I guess neither of them-- ahem-- quite like you.”

Eret’s brow creased further as he looked back up to see Muds’ tail flick around a sea stack and out of sight.

With the dragon bonding underway, the others tried to help the two humans in the equation, in their own way. The twins tried their “T’n’T” (Tried-and-True Tightrope) Method, which thankfully did not involve any explosives. Despite having worked on Dagur and Mala previously, it wasn’t the best approach for Eret and Y/N. The newcomer tumbled off before any semblance of a match could begin, while Y/N, long-accustomed to wave-riding on dragons, balanced atop the swinging tightrope cooly, examining her nails as Eret spat dirt out of his mouth.

Fighlegs tried meditating. It seemed to work-- until he realized the reason they hadn’t been making sarcastic jabs at each other was because they had both fallen asleep.

Astrid just shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get over each other.”

Snotlout was the last to assist, and had led them both to an open patch of beach on the far side of the island.

“Hiccup is wrong,” he announced as Hookfang found a comfortable spot to nap. “He’s great with dragons, but people are my speciality. I know what you two need.”

Y/N and Eret both stared, silently, waiting for him to continue. He shifted his weight and sighed. “Listen. In the Jorgenson household, we handle things the old fashioned way. The correct way. The only way. No dragons, no ‘talking it out’ or whatever soggy garbage.”

He gestured to behind Y/N with a wave of his arm. “Astrid, if you would.” Y/N turned to see the blonde atop Stormfly, who was coaxing Muds down the beach. Her dragon was, albeit a little cautiously, following at a steady pace. She could play with the Nadder for hours if she was allowed. Y/N frowned and quirked a brow but let it happen.

“Never expect another favor like this, Snotlout,” Astrid called over her shoulder, jabbing a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah, screw you, Snotlout, I get it, just take the Stormcutter somewhere else. Far away.”

As Muds got further away down the beach, the viking produced a chicken wing from the bag slung across his shoulders.

“You too, big guy.” He waved it before Skullcrusher’s nose until it caught his attention, then slung the chicken and the bag as far as he could, into the trees. The Rumblehorn chased it, rumbling happily, and leaving the humans alone.

Snotlout picked up a large stick from the ground and began tracing a large circle in the sand around them. “Sometimes,” he explained, “You’ve just gotta throw a couple punches. Really brings people together.”

“What, exactly,” Eret questioned, peering over Y/N’s shoulder as Snotlout completed his ring, “are you suggesting?”

Snotlout bonked the stick on the top of Eret’s head. “Fight.”

Y/N snorted, sparing a glance to Eret, who seemed just as apprehensive. “Sorry?”

“Sparring,” Snotlout assured. “Nothing serious. Just to get to know one another.”

“What do I win?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Eret scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Uh, the thrill of victory? Eternal bragging rights? My praise?” Snotlout tossed his stick aside and waved a hand dismissively. “Now get to it. That chicken isn’t going to last forever, and I will not be responsible for that dragon when he comes back.”

When Y/N looked over to Eret, she found his gaze already on her, one brow raised, as if he were asking her agreement to continue. She heaved a short breath.

“Why not? Not like you could do much damage anyway, Egret.”

The comment was sharp, but her voice wasn’t, and a smile tugged at her mouth as she planted her feet shoulder-width apart and balled her fists.

“You’ll see what Eret, son of Eret, is capable of. I’ve taken on whole crews single-handedly!” Eret struck first, feigning to the left before striking at her with his right fist. She missed it with plenty of room to spare. She kept up her defense, knocking half-hearted blows away with ease.

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed. “Are you throwing fists, or flowers?”

Eret’s stance widened and he pulled his fists closer before lunging forward with more force. Y/N had to compensate heavily on her right foot to get out of the way in time, and attempted a feint to the left to get her balance back. It wasn’t very convincing, and he almost got her to trip up before she got her feet right under her, still trying to find an opening in his defense.

He laughed sharply as she dodged another meaty fist. “All bark, but no bite, are you?”

Y/N chuckled breathlessly, and dropped close to the ground and changed her tactics. She swiped a leg out, trying to catch his heel. He jumped over it, but that was what she wanted; she balanced herself on her palms and swung herself around, slamming her other leg into his ankles just as they touched the ground.

He lost his footing and hit the sand with a heavy thud, but recovered quickly, and rolled to avoid her pinning him down. He used his momentum to swing an arm at her head as he got back to his feet. She ducked beneath it and managed a sharp jab to his ribs before he twisted out of her reach.

Eret’s hair was disheveled from his momentary grounding, and his face was flush with effort. Y/N was struck, for a moment, by the glimmer in his eyes and the flash of his teeth. The tattoo on his chin distorted slightly as he frowned with concentration, When did his face get to be that handsome? She was so lost in this moment of admiration that she didn’t catch his palm coming to box at her ear. The sharp blow shook her head out of its bizarre little mood and back into the fight, but as she caught his calf mid-kick she found her breath trembling like the muscle beneath her fingertips.

If Eret noticed her mind was elsewhere, he didn’t ease up on her, and pressed his offense forward, pushing her to the edge of the ring. She was back on strict defense, deflecting blows and dancing out of the way of his rapid punches.

He tried a kick at her at the same time she made a move to duck under his range of fire and strike at his abdomen. Her right leg hooked with his left, and her shoulder collided with his hip, sending them both to the sand. They ended up in a tangled heap, winded both from the fight and the fall.

Eret groaned, and Y/N felt it more than she heard it. He struggled to brace himself up, but only got to his elbows before wincing. His hiss of breath sounded sharply in her ear, and she was sure he could feel the same pain that was blooming in her shoulders. She shifted the knee that had buried in his side, and he lifted his heavy chest off of hers. One of his hands had trapped her bicep above her head, and a thigh was snug between hers.

She cracked her eyes open through the ringing in her head, and met his. She sucked in a breath, of either shock or something else she didn’t know-- the scent of leather and the sea filled her head, and the space between them superheated in an instant. Was it just her imagination, or did she see the same expression of hesitant wonderment in his face? She couldn’t be sure that he had leaned forward just a hair, but she was sure that her heart rate took another spike.

The world seemed to grind to a halt around them, until Snotlout kicked Eret’s thigh. “Round’s over! I didn’t need you two to get that close.”

Eret scrambled off of her, and offered a hand to help her up. Y/N accepted it, hoping he couldn’t tell her hands were getting clammy. She very pointedly studied the sand around them as Snotlout sighed.

“Eret landed top of the pile, so he wins, but really, we all win, don’t we?” He slung his arms around both of their shoulders, yanking them down to the same height. “Would you consider you to be friends, now? Wouldn’t you say that sparring match was just what you needed?”

Y/N wriggled away, but her sneer was breaking into a smile. “Not to your credit, Snotlout.”

“Nonsense. Another rift mended by the expertise of one Snotlout Jorgenson!” He released Eret but ground a fist into his bicep with a grin. “My dad will be so excited to hear that it worked!” He climbed into his dragon’s saddle and jerked his horns. “Let’s go do the family name proud, Hookfang! Have fun being friends! And don’t worry, you can thank me later!”

The pair of troublemakers took off, leaving Eret and Y/N in relative peace. Distantly, Skullcrusher was rumbling through the brush and crunching on bones, but they still had a good minute or so before he returned. Muds was likely still scampering about with Stormfly somewhere out of earshot.

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to regain the confidence that had until just recently come so easy to her. “Well, Amit. Since you won, I guess it’s only fair that you pick your prize.”

He mulled it over for a moment, hoping the blush that flared up on his face was still hidden under the pretense of exertion. Half of those thoughts did not have any right to be in his head at that moment. He schooled his voice into steadiness before speaking. “You... could help me with the training arena? I’m on cleaning duty this week.”

Y/N shrugged. “Sure. Maybe I could get some dusting done with that little brush back here.” She ruffled the spiky end of his hair, and he laughed.

“Bad idea. Dust makes me sneeze.”

“We’ll figure something out, Achoo, son of A-sneeze. We may need a lot of water. You could use a bath, anyway.”

She was joking, but he was suddenly trying to remember the last time he’d washed. “Really?”

Her laugh lifted his chest and the corners of his lips. Her eyes sparkled as her gaze sidled over his face. “No, Eric. You’re fine.”

“It’s Eret.”

“I know, Aaron.”

Eret sighed, but didn’t complain. For her favor, he could take a couple new names. And maybe... one day she’d be saying his name right.

#eret son of eret #eret x reader #httyd fanfic #minimal editing lmao #i've been trying to grind through this #and it was mostly done for like the LONGEST TIME #but there was this one little bit #that just wouldn't fit together quite #and it was KILLING ME #KILLING ME I TELLYOU #eret

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thanksfornothinguselessreptile · 6 years ago

Text

A Shifting World Chapter 10: Back to the Ship

First Chapter

<–Previous

Work Summary: Things have been going great since Hiccup and Toothless have defeated the Red Death. He has his father’s approval, a group of friends his own age, and is leading the integration of dragons and the Vikings of Berk. When neighboring tribes call together a meeting to discuss rumors of Vikings riding dragons, however, Stoick decides to keep their alliance with dragons under wraps. Hiccup must decide whether he should listen to his father or seek to teach the other Vikings of the archipelago the truths about dragons.

AO3

Rating: T

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stoick, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout

Pairings: Minor Hiccup x Astrid

Chapter Summary: The Thunderdrums are safe and everyone returns to the ship, but there are still a few loose ends that need tying up before reaching the Thing.

Chapter Warnings: Death Mention

Despite the hours of rest everyone got, by the time they left an hour past sunrise Hiccup still felt on the verge of slumping over on Barf and Belch’s back and taking a nap, chances of being pranked or not. He’d kind of expected it, since he’d been too worried to sleep after the rescue. Of course he’d been concerned about waking up to find the Thunderdrums gone or seeing the remaining enemy ships back for a second attack. But the thought of just how upset his father would be made those seem like the best-case scenario in comparison.

It’s kind of hard to get some rest when considering all the different ways you can be grounded.

Things had been going so well for the past few months. Stoick had been more patient and open with Hiccup ever since he’d woken up with a new leg and impact on his village, and when they talked it didn’t feel like they were two actors tasked with improvising when neither were good at it. But after this fiasco with him freeing the Thunderdrum behind his back, his father would be furious. Worried, yes. Furious, also yes. And for reasons that Hiccup could understand.

And he hadn’t even gotten the chance to get to the Thing and convince the Vikings dragons weren’t their enemies yet. Regardless of the outcome that would have, Stoick wouldn’t find Hiccup going against his wishes particularly amusing.

A warm and scaly nose bumped Hiccup’s hand, and he turned around, making sure he didn’t fall from Barf and Belch’s back.

Sure enough, Toothless was there. He was perched precariously on the small of the larger dragon’s back, crouched awkwardly in a struggle not to block the path of their wings.

“Are you okay?” Toothless’s head was tilted, his mouth set into a large frown.

Hiccup forced a smile and hoped that it wasn’t a sad one. “Yeah, bud. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’d be worried if I were you.” Hiccup straightened out to glare at Tuffnut. He was half-turned around, a big smile on his face. “Stoick’s going to be so upset.”

“I know, right?” Ruffnut was sitting up straight, looking thrilled. “He might even yell louder than when we go yak-tipping!”

Tuffnut puffed up in indignation. “Wait, are you implying that Hiccup might break our record?” He placed a hand on his chest. “Unbelievable.”

Toothless snapped his jaws together, clacking his teeth in a bite to the air. Hiccup had seen dragons do this when they, or other dragons nearby, were squabbling. He guessed it was something of a rebuke to be quiet.

Hiccup reached out to pat Toothless’s shoulder to calm him down. “I wouldn’t be so sure he won’t be yelling at you, too. He seemed pretty angry when Toothless told us you had snuck off after us.”

“Toothless, you traitor!” Tuffnut threw out an accusatory finger at him, clutching at his helmet as if in disbelief.

Toothless’s response was simply to roll his eyes.

“I don’t know, bro.” Ruffnut shook her head, looking overly serious. “I don’t think he’s supposed to be here, either. Hey, maybe he’ll be the one breaking our record.”

As the twins starting arguing over who’d break whose record, a squabble that seemed to warrant multiple punches and kicks and more than one near-fall from the dragon, Hiccup tried to screen them out and focus on how beautiful the sunrise was.

It didn’t really work out well.

Since Barf and Belch were carrying three humans and Toothless on his back, and the blue Thunderdrum was flying with the purple one on his, it took a while to reach the ship. When they did, though, Hiccup had to wince. All the oars were out and churning the water at full speed, and the ship seemed to be headed in the direction the blue Thunderdrum had taken Hiccup.

As they approached, though, the rowers stopped and the anchor lowered. Even from a distance, he could see those onboard running to the side of the ship to see what was happening.

Hiccup didn’t need a spyglass to see the tallest Viking with the reddest beard was among them, and didn’t look happy.

Grounded for sure.

Barf and Belch led the way down to the ship in a calm but gentle descent, while the Thunderdrums followed more warily. Toothless bumped Hiccup’s shoulder to get his attention, then glanced at his back. Following the unspoken direction, he climbed onto the Night Fury’s neck, right where his harness would be if he were wearing it. The moment the Zippleback drew close enough to the Hooligans’ ship, Toothless leaped clear during a downstroke of their wings, clearing several heads and landing on an empty space of deck. Hiccup slid down and off his shoulders, feet meeting wood with an empty “thunk.”

The moment the ship steadied after Toothless’s landing, the twins leapt onboard as well. For all the clumsiness of their brawling, they landed on the handrail as surefootedly as cats. Their back now clear, Barf and Belch splashed down into the ocean next to the ship, the boat not being large enough to support their weight.

Getting the purple Thunderdrum onto the deck was more complicated. Thunderdrums weren’t exactly known for jumping with their small legs, and with his wing injured there was no way for him to glide clear. Ultimately, the blue one had to roll while over the ship and the purple one had to leap onto it at just the right time. The ship shook as if caught in a sudden but invisible storm, and Hiccup had to make a lunge to the railing to keep his feet. He consoled himself with the fact that most other Vikings had to latch onto handholds and each other as well. Stoick was among the few not affected. He stood in the middle of it all, feet planted firmly on the wood and watching the proceedings with a stern gaze.

The blue Thunderdrum made one large circle, then two, his eyes fixed on the Vikings below in a narrow glare. As they showed more interest in righting themselves and staring at the newcomers, he finally dove into the ocean and began to swim around the ship.

“Hiccup!”

The sound of Stoick approaching made Hiccup give a quick prayer to the gods for a quick and painless grounding. That done, he turned to face Stoick and gave him the smile that used to give his younger self a chance to get somewhat out of trouble. “Hey, Dad.”

Stoick’s expression didn’t change the slightest bit. “What were you thinking?” Stoick waved a hand in the general direction of the blue Thunderdrum. “Flying off on a wild dragon like that! You could’ve been killed!”

Hiccup winced. Definitely not lightening this punishment. “Yeah, sorry about that. But at least I wasn’t, right?”

Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose. The gesture covered most of his face not already hidden by beard. “By Odin’s ghost, son, you need to stop being so… so reckless, and acting like risking your life is fine.”

Hiccup swallowed, hoping the motion would help with the sudden feeling that some invisible force was constricting his throat. “I’m sorry, Dad.” And he was, he really was. He knew he wouldn’t change a thing even if he could, but even so, he didn’t mean to worry or disappoint Stoick in the process.

Stoick glanced around at the twins, Barf and Belch, the Thunderdrums. His expression didn’t relax, but Hiccup felt grateful that at least he didn’t look angrier.

“Hey, Chief!” Tuffnut waved at him cheerily, as if he was an old friend who’d bumped into him on the street rather than having been caught following the ship against unspoken orders. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ruffnut glanced around at the ship. “Love what you did what this place. The scratches in the hull really sell the whole Viking look.”

“So how much trouble are we in?” If this was anyone else, they’d be sounding nervous and on the edge of running away. But this was Tuffnut. He sounded almost eager to be yelled at.

“Oh, a lot.” Stoick’s voice had lowered in volume, but no less angry.

Ruffnut leaned over to bump helmets with her brother in triumph, causing Stoick to sigh so much that if the sail had been raised they probably could’ve sailed all the way to the Thing on it.

“What even made you all think that this–” Stoick gestured at the Thunderdrums, the Zippleback, the Night Fury, and the twins “–was a good idea?”

Hiccup had thought he’d been nervous talking to the Thunderdrums. It turned it that they had nothing on Stoick. But he stepped forward. “I figured out that the Thunderdrum was in trouble.” He explained his and Toothless’s reasoning, and how it led to their decision to leave the ship. He made sure not to mention Astrid at all, in case Stoick was upset at her too. Not that he wanted any of the other lookouts punished for not noticing their departure, but she shouldn’t pay for his decision.

He also kept the part about the Thunderdrum’s betrayal rather vague as well, but from the thunderous look on Stoick’s face as he glanced in the blue Thunderdrum’s direction, he wasn’t quite sure how successful he was about that. But when Hiccup reached the part about the ships, Stoick spoke up, his expression troubled rather than stern.

“What tribe?” His gaze was unsettling, like he was looking through Hiccup rather than at him.

Hiccup shrugged and tried to swallow down any nervousness. “I don’t know. They looked like Viking ships, but they had no images on their sails, and they didn’t look like any I’ve ever seen.”

“No clue here either.” Tuffnut shrugged, the motion loose and fluid. Hiccup couldn’t tell how he or Ruffnut could be so relaxed under the circumstances.

Ruffnut shook her head. “They were pointy,” she offered.

Hiccup nodded. “They had spikes everywhere.” Stoick’s gaze snapped back at him, his attention back to him rather than some mental image. “And dragon skulls on their stemposts.”

“Outcasts.” Stoick’s voice was almost a growl. He turned his glare to the horizon, as if searching for them.

“Oh, Thor.” Fishlegs’s voice cut through the tense silence. Hiccup silently agreed with the sentiment. The Outcasts were the archipelago’s most hated residents, more even than dragons, and for good reason. Formed from Vikings who’d committed crimes too heinous to punish merely with imprisonment but not extreme enough for execution, they carried god-sized grudges against their former kin for casting them out.

Spitelout scoffed. “Outcasts don’t usually come out here just to hunt dragons.” He raised an eyebrow at Stoick, his arms crossed against his chest. “You sure they aren’t lying?”

Stoick turned to face Spitelout, his shoulders raised in anger. “You calling my son a liar?”

Spitelout stepped back, though the belligerent expression on his face didn’t change. “I’m not saying Hiccup is, but the Thorston twins?” He nodded at them.

“Normally you’d be right, but not this time.” Tuffnut raised his hand as if swearing an oath.

“And anyways, if you accuse us of lying when Hiccup is saying the same thing, aren’t you still saying he’s lying?” Ruffnut squinted at Spitelout.

Spitelout snorted, but didn’t respond.

“If those Outcasts are still in the area, then we’re in deep trouble.” Stoick rubbed at his head, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there. “If they’re out hunting dragons, they’ll be heavily armed. More armed than we are. And with this becalming, we’re sitting ducks.” He glanced at Toothless, who was watching him with a head tilted with sympathy. “It seems that we’ll have to ask your dragons to stick around in case they decide to test their luck.”

“So does that mean we’re not getting sent back?” Ruffnut asked, her eyes narrowed.

Stoick sighed. “No. It’s too dangerous to risk sending you both back with your dragon alone, especially if Outcast dragon hunters are in the area.” Before she or Tuffnut could react, he pointed at the two of them, glaring so sharply Hiccup was surprised they didn’t flee at the sight. “But you aren’t to prank anyone or cause any trouble when we are at the Thing, or you’re going to be swabbing every ship in our harbor for the next five years. Every day. At dawn. On top of whatever your parents decide. Understand?”

Tuffnut gave him a salute, though any respect behind the gesture was undermined by how loose and sloppy it was. “Oh, yes, sir. We understand.”

Stoick stared at them for a moment longer before he decided the matter was out of his hands and sighed. He turned back to face Hiccup, face worn. “Hiccup, you and your friends are very lucky to be alive. You may have had the advantage of surprise on your side this once, but you cannot count on it next time. When we get back to Berk, you’re grounded. You understand?” There was no anger behind the words, just tiredness. Somehow that made it feel worse.

Hiccup nodded. “I understand.”

Stoick nodded and moved away. As he moved to the front of the ship, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut headed for Hiccup. Fishlegs fidgeted with his fingers giving Hiccup a look that was both concerned and sympathetic. Even Snotlout looked less confrontational than usual.

“Are you all right?” Astrid asked. She was staring at Hiccup as if expecting him to collapse at her feet.

Hiccup put on his most confident grin. He was pretty sure it looked more tired than he wanted it to. “Don’t worry, Astrid. I’m okay. I told you nothing would happen, right?”

She bit her lip. “Fighting Outcasts isn’t exactly nothing. I’m really glad that you’re okay.”

Ruffnut jabbed a finger at herself. “Hey, what about the people who actually did the heavy lifting?” she asked, though there wasn’t much heat in her words.

Astrid shook her head with her eyes raised to the skies, though Hiccup was sure he could see the corners of her mouth slightly raised in a barely unnoticeable smile. “I’m glad Barf and Belch are okay, too.”

A gurgling sound caught Hiccup’s attention. He glanced over at the side of the ship to see Barf and Belch watching them, their heads bobbing and faces set into draconic grins. Whatever they were saying, Hiccup couldn’t understand, but he could hear the mirth behind the burbles.

Ruffnut shrugged, any false annoyance immediately gone for amusement. “That’s fair.”

“I don’t mean to spoil the fun,” Snotlout said, speaking loud enough to interrupt even the twins, “but those Outcasts are still out there. You saving those dragons aren’t going to matter much if they find us floating out here, all alone.”

“I know.” Hiccup wished there’d been some way to drive them off and ensure that they’d never bother any human or dragon ever again. But while they’d been in the perfect position to kill the Outcasts and never have those ones, at least, hurting anyone else, it just didn’t feel right. Especially not while they were running.

“At the very least we’ll be safer at the Thing.” Astrid placed a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “My mom says that even tribes under a blood-feud will come to save each other from the Outcasts.”

“But we aren’t at the Thing, Astrid.” Fishlegs’s eyes darted from place to place, as if expecting an Outcast ship to rise directly from the waves. “And we’re becalmed.”

“You certainly aren’t becalmed.” Tuffnut leaned right into Fishlegs’s personal space, squinting as if trying to determine whether or not Fishlegs was really panicking. “You’re more…be-panicked.”

“Fishface is right.” Snotlout didn’t look at all happy with agreeing as he pointed toward Fishlegs. “You can’t predict a becalming, or when it ends. Do you have any bright ideas up your sleeve to get us moving?”

Ruffnut raised her hand. “One of us could get out and push the ship to the Thing.” Hiccup could swear that he saw her grin grow just the slightest bit as Snotlout opened his mouth to make some retort.

But the sound of water rippling distracted Hiccup. He glanced over to see the blue Thunderdrum still circling the ship, surfacing every so often to cast a wary glance at the Vikings within. He was probably trying to keep an eye on them to make sure his friend wasn’t hurt.

His friend that he’d flown there on his back. A feat he’d managed because he was strong even for his species.

“Ruffnut, you’re right.” Hiccup didn’t realize he’d said that aloud until all his friends, even Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were staring at him with jaws at various states of dropped.

“Are you okay?” Astrid was the least surprised, but even she had an eyebrow raised.

Hiccup nodded. “Be right back.” And he headed for Stoick.

His father was still glaring at the horizon where Thing Island must’ve been. But when Hiccup approached, he turned to face him. His face was still creased with stress, but Hiccup was thankful to see the frustration vanish at least somewhat as he saw him.

“Son, what’s going on?” Hiccup could hear that behind the surprise, Stoick sounded tired. He must have been up for hours before sunrise, worrying about him.

“Do we have any rope?”

Stoick blinked, the sudden question confusing him. “Rope? We’re on a ship. We have probably have more than enough for whatever you need it for.” He narrowed his eyes, frowning. “Why?”

“Ruffnut just gave me an idea.” Hiccup didn’t want to steal credit for her idea, but from the suspicious look on Stoick’s face made him wonder if he should’ve kept quiet about who originated this plan.

“If this is for a prank…” Stoick placed a hand on his face.

Hiccup shook his head. “No, but I’ve got an idea for how to get to the Thing without the wind. At least for now.” He described the kind of rope they needed, a long and straight one, something strong that couldn’t easily be ripped through.

Stoick’s face flickered as his caution warred with hope. And then his eyes widened as he cast a quick glance at the blue Thunderdrum. “You think he’d be on board with the idea?”

Hiccup shrugged. “I don’t know, but it can’t hurt to try.”

He signaled Toothless over from where he’d been talking with the purple Thunderdrum before leaning over the side of the ship and waving to get the blue one’s attention. “Hey, bud, can you ask him if he’ll do us a favor and help tow the ship?”

Toothless leaned over and shared a few words with the Thunderdrum. From how back and forth it was, and how the Thunderdrum’s pupils narrowed, he had his reservations. But whatever they’d been, Toothless managed to put him at ease.

Meanwhile, Stoick managed to get ahold of some rope and tied them to the stempost as securely as Gordian’s knot. When he threw the resulting loop into the waves, the blue Thunderdrum hesitated. Then, with a snort, he dove after it. A moment passed, and then he surfaced, rope in hand. The ship rocked back and forth for a moment after the rope went taut, before moving in the direction that Stoick gestured.

Cheers filled the air, even as the rowers went back at their job with twice the effort.

All the energy seemed to drain from Hiccup’s body, and he found himself resisting a yawn. It’d been a long night, after all.

But before he could properly considering finding someplace quiet to lie down and take a nap, a hand descended on his shoulder to get his attention. He glanced over to see Stoick looking at him, his expression serious.

“I’m glad you came back all right, son.” Stoick’s voice was deep with what could only been relief. “When I woke up and found that you, Toothless, and the Thunderdrum were gone…” He glanced out at the horizon.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” He hadn’t expected it to get so dangerous, but he couldn’t walk away when the Thunderdrum needed help. And he knew that Stoick wouldn’t have either. As much as his father was intent on only concentrating on protecting their own, he wouldn’t sit and do nothing about people who needed help who were right in front of them, either.

Stoick nodded. “I know, I know.” He tugged at a lock of his beard. “And I am proud that you stood up for what you believed in. Though I would have preferred if you hadn’t jumped into such a dangerous situation with both feet.” He glanced over at Hiccup, a wry look on his face. “And before you say it, yes, I’m aware one of them’s a prosthetic.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh a little, barely audible even to himself. “Am I that predictable?”

Stoick shook his head and laughed himself. “Well, you can't have that, can you?”

Hiccup grinned. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes. Can’t let you get too bored with your chiefing.”

For a moment, they both laughed. Hiccup couldn’t help but relax. He’d made a big deal out of nothing, worrying about how upset Stoick would be.

But after a few moments of silence, Stoick cleared his throat. “But still, take better care of yourself, Hiccup.” He glanced at Hiccup, and Hiccup could’ve sworn his face looked more worn and wrinkled than he’d seen it. “The gods were kind with you this time. You cannot always count on having their favor.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I know. But I had to do something.” He couldn’t just ignore a dragon that needed help, even if he refused to admit he needed it.

Stoick nodded and exhaled, as he glanced out toward the dragon. “And you really came through for him and his friend today. But as much as I’m glad you resolved the situation as well as you did, it could’ve gone so much worse.”

Hiccup shrugged. “It’s an occupational hazard.”

Stoick’s shoulders tensed, just a little, and Hiccup could’ve sworn he saw something like regret pass through his eyes. “You may be willing to lay down your life for peace, son, but your life is too dear a price to pay for the first stranger you find who needs help. Too dear for me, yourself, Gobber, your friends.” He ran a hand down his face, and Hiccup could’ve sworn the gesture made him seem older, his face more creased, his hair and beard duller. “Understand?”

Hiccup nodded. “I’ll try.”

“You will.” It had all the air of a command. Hiccup couldn’t see even a god disobeying an order in that voice.

“Okay.” He nodded and looked out to the blue Thunderdrum, still pulling away at the rope.

It occurred to him that he’d never learned his name, or his friend’s.

He turned to Toothless, who’d been standing to the side with a tilted head and wide, almost sad eyes fixed on both him and Stoick. “Hey, bud, did you happen to catch those guys’ names?”

Toothless nodded. The grave contemplation turned to an expression that was more thoughtful.

First, he gestured at the purple Thunderdrum. He was currently settled toward the back of the ship, gazing at the Vikings going about their business with a wary curiosity. And he wasn’t the only one doing any observation; Fishlegs stood not too far away, staring at the dragon as if this was the only time he’d ever get to see a Thunderdrum up close.

Toothless made a sound that Hiccup hadn’t learned the meaning of, which brought his attention back to the Night Fury. The moment Hiccup was looking back at him, Toothless spun in a circle and repeated the word.

“Spin?” he guessed.

If that wasn’t the word, it was close enough, because Toothless immediately said something else. It wasn’t a word that they’d covered yet, but when Toothless extended his left wing, Hiccup didn’t need to guess.

“Spin Wing?” No, that sounded a bit clunky. What Norse word was the same as spin? “Whirlwing?” Much better, with the added bonus of wordplay.

Toothless nodded. It must’ve been a good enough translation.

“Okay, so his name is Whirlwing.” Stoick nodded, and from how creased around his eyes he got Hiccup assumed that he was committing it to memory. “And what is his name?” He turned to face the blue Thunderdrum.

Apparently, his name was harder to translate to Norse. Toothless hummed and half-closed his eyes, an ear twitching as if it’d suddenly gotten an itch. But finally, he perked up as if struck by lightning.

Whatever Hiccup was expecting, it wasn’t Toothless bounding across the deck and peering over the rails at the shields hanging on the sides, as much for decoration as for transport. He glanced at a couple before batting at one at about the ship’s midpoint.

Hiccup reached the shield and pulled it over the rails. It was a solidly built shield, a bit worn from the elements, but fine nonetheless. Painted on it in fading colors was a representation of Thor. Or rather, just his face, frozen in a dramatic yell that made it look like he was about to sink his teeth into the metallic center of the shield. Sparks of lightning flew from his mouth at whatever had gotten him so angry. The fact that metal didn’t make a good meal, perhaps.

“Thor?” Stoick asked, his nose crinkling up.

Apparently, Toothless wasn’t quite happy with the translation, but he nodded anyway, so it must’ve been the closest equivalent. At least, one which wouldn’t require hours upon hours of Dragonese lessons to get to a point where he could explain.

Toothless then brushed his paw on the bolts of lightning coming from Thor’s mouth.

“Thor Lightning?” A bit excessive, if you asked Hiccup.

Toothless wrinkled up his nose and shook his head. “No.” He then blew out a mouthful of air and beat his wings, creating a cold gust of rotting-fish-scented wind.

“Thor Thunderstorm?” Stoick sounded like he was raising an eyebrow at that one.

Toothless hummed. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either. And not close enough to get a “That’ll do.”

As Hiccup wondered what could possibly be the dragon’s name, Toothless spun in a circle again.

“Thor Cyclone?” Hiccup was relieved to see Toothless shift more toward the “That’ll do” end of the spectrum.

“Thornado.”

At Stoick’s voice, Toothless nodded. It looked like wordplay was going to be the naming scheme for these dragons, at least with their Norse translations.

“Huh.” He nodded at the dragon. “Fits him, at least.” He said this begrudgingly, and Hiccup could tell that it would take him some time to forgive him for attacking the ship, and for probably sinking the other one.

Hiccup supposed that he couldn’t complain, as long as Stoick was okay with the dragons hitching a ride until they could be taken back to Berk for medical attention.

He just hoped he’d be as understanding when he revealed the truth about dragons to the other tribes.

Next–>

#useless reptile writes #a shifting world #finding another way series #hiccup #toothless #tuffnut #ruffnut #thorston twins #barf #belch #barf and belch #astrid #snotlout #fishlegs #stoick #stoick the vast #death mention cw #httyd fanfiction

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inyournightmares97 · 7 years ago

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Antipathy, part eight

In which Park Jinyoung, a possibly murderous cat hybrid, makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.

Warnings: Strong language, hybrid!Jinyoung and mainly just fluff. Also, Jinyoung with kids. That needs it's own fluff warning.

Word Count: 3.1k+

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part nine

The morning wore on lazily. You slumped against the couch with a sigh while Minnie sat cross-legged on the floor watching episodes of some inane cartoon. The cartoon characters were getting up to all sorts of meaningless antics and you were personally still suffering from your hangover. Your head throbbed and you groaned as you leaned back against the sofa. Jinyoung, curled up next to you on the sofa, seemed concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asked you quietly.

You pouted. “I drank too much last night,” you whispered back miserably.

Jinyoung nodded in understanding. “I wanted to make you some hangover cures but I couldn’t find all the ingredients. And what are we going to do about lunch?” he gestured towards Minnie, who was singing along to the theme song of the next cartoon, clapping her hands whenever the character on screen told her to. “What do small children eat?”

You cursed under your breath. “Dammit, I forgot that my sister doesn’t let Minnie eat fast food anymore. We’re going to have to make something. You say there’s no ingredients at home?” Jinyoung nodded in response and you sighed. “Fine, then we’re going have to go out shopping. Minnie! Get up, we’re going to the grocery store!”

The girl turned and blinked at you. “But this episode’s not over-“

“I’ll buy you ice cream if you come without complaining,” you promised her simply. Minnie’s eyes brightened and she beamed and ran over to you, grabbing Jinyoung’s leg happily. He smiled down at her and let her wrap her arms around his legs.

“Jinyoung-oppa, let’s get ice cream! Do you like ice cream?”

He nodded and picked her up. “Of course, who doesn’t like ice cream?”

“What’s your favorite flavor? Mine’s strawberry. It used to be chocolate until last week, and before that I liked mint chocolate chip but now it’s strawberry because strawberry’s pink and I like the color pink!” she rambled on. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed your wallet and keys. Jinyoung went into your study and emerged a few seconds later with a snap-back on his head. You blinked at him in surprise and he let out a small cough.

“Sometimes people get freaked out by the ears in public,” he muttered in explanation.

You blinked. “Uh, okay. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You noticed that Jinyoung was fidgeting nervously on the way to the grocery store. You glanced at his stiff posture in the seat and how he kept fiddling with the obviously uncomfortable snap-back on his head. You had to wonder if it was squishing his ears, and why he felt it was so necessary to wear it if it was uncomfortable. You glanced in the backseat to make sure Minnie was distracted, before blinking at him.

“Are you okay?” you asked. You watched him doubtfully. “Jinyoung, you don’t have to wear the hat.”

Jinyoung cleared his throat and turned to you, a hint of nervousness in his dark eyes. He held your gaze for a few moments before looking down at his lap and speaking quietly. “No, I’m fine. I’ve just never been to a grocery store before. I don’t go out to public places a lot actually. They don’t let hybrids leave the shelter premises, so I… I don’t have a lot of experience being in crowded places with a lot of humans.”

You blinked at him in surprise. “Not even with your previous owner?”

“He didn’t leave the house much himself, and he never let me leave either.”

You bit your lip and looked at him. You couldn’t help but feel curious about Jinyoung’s previous owner, this old man who had supposedly died. What kind of owner never even took their hybrid to places like grocery stores? Jinyoung’s behavior occasionally lead you to the conclusion that he hadn’t been treated very well in the past, even during his life before the shelters. But you didn’t want to pry. He kept shifting his snap-back and he was fidgeting so much that you knew this was not the time to discuss his past.

“Well, don’t worry. Supermarkets are pretty boring places,” your reassured him cheerfully. You noticed that your words relaxed Jinyoung a little so you kept going. “Just don’t eat anything before we’ve paid for it and we should be fine. Besides, maybe you’ll finally tell me what kind of food you like, huh? You’ve been pretty mysterious about it so far.”

Jinyoung bit back a smile. “I like everything you make.”

“Liar. I saw you struggling to eat the oranges I cut up the other day. I know cats generally don’t like citrus fruits and I was waiting for you to say something about it,” you admitted with a laugh. It had been rather funny to watch his expression as he struggled to eat one and then pretended he wasn’t hungry.

Jinyoung blinked. “That’s a little mean.”

“Just buy whatever food you want, Jinyoung. As long as it’s not too expensive or from the gourmet section; I don’t think my wallet can afford it if you took a liking to imported cheeses or something. And we should find something that Minnie will like too. That’s the challenge right now.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung smiled softly.

You parked outside the supermarket and Jinyoung hurried to help Minnie out of the backseat. She demanded that he let her climb up onto his back again so he agreed, hitching her up and following you into the store. You could tell that Jinyoung was tense as you grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it down the first aisle, but Minnie was humming happily and tapping a tune onto Jinyoung’s snapback with her fingers.

“Jinyoung-oppa, can I have a chocolate?” she demanded, pointing at one.

Jinyoung looked at you doubtfully. “I don’t know, can she have a chocolate?” he wondered.

“No. I already promised you ice cream, Minnie, eating chocolate too will be too much sugar in one go. You can choose your ice cream once we’re done shopping… but nothing else sweet.”

You turned back to face the aisle, trying to pick out some olive oil for the pasta you intended to make later but you could hear Jinyoung and Minnie behind you. The little girl was leaning down, whispering into Jinyoung’s ears not-so-conspicuously.

“She’s mean…”

“She is. She tried to make me eat oranges the other day,” Jinyoung’s voice whispered back playfully.

“Ewwww…!” Minnie squealed.

You stiffened, whirling around to scold them but they’d already started walking further down the aisle without you. You sighed and let them go, dropping things into the shopping cart that you needed. You needed to focus on feeding Minnie, and somebody had to be the harsh one. Jinyoung didn’t look like he was capable of denying Minnie anything. He was clearly smitten with her. You checked your shopping list and strolled the aisles grabbing other things you needed for a few minutes, before Minnie suddenly came running over to you at full speed.

“Look what we found!” she chirped happily, grabbing your jeans and tugging on them to get your attention. “Ears! Jinyoung-oppa got me ears!”

You were confused for a moment until she held up a small headband and showed you a pair of black Minnie Mouse ears; with the little red bow and all. Her face was flushed red with excitement as she rattled about how pretty they were. Jinyoung suddenly turned the corner, looking out of breath and his eyes wide.

“Minnie! Don’t run off like that, I didn’t know where you went!” he scolded, rushing over to pick her up.

Minnie pouted. “Sorry. I just wanted to show off the cat ears we found.” She turned to face you, her eyes large and hopeful. “Can we buy them? Can we buy them, can we buy them, please, pretty please?”

You exchanged a glance with Jinyoung and sighed. “Yes, okay, you can buy one pair.”

“Yes!” Minnie pumped her fist in the air. She squirmed until Jinyoung put her back down and then skipped down the aisle, clutching the Minnie Mouse headband to her chest and singing happily. You giggled at the sight of the adorable girl and then turned to Jinyoung, who had a slight frown on his face as he watched Minnie. You nudged him in the side.

“Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure whether I should break it to Minnie that those are mouse ears and not cat ears,” he admitted.

“Does it matter?”

Jinyoung turned to you sharply, with a slight huff. His arms were folded across his chest. “Are you kidding? Mouse ears are much rounder and uglier, they don’t have half the aesthetic or functional value of a cat’s ears. It’s a little bit insulting that she can’t tell the difference but she’s still a child so I suppose it’s forgivable. But those ears look nothing like mine.”

You chuckled. “How about we don’t break her heart? I’m not even sure if we could find a headband with cat ears right now and I’m not about to go around town searching.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. She looks happy anyway.”

Minnie was dancing happily in the middle of the aisle, having placed the Minnie Mouse ears on her head with the price tag still hanging off them. She’d gathered a small audience of people who were commenting on how cute she was. An older lady passed by and gave you a slightly toothless smile. “You have such an adorable little daughter,” she said fondly, smiling at you and Jinyoung.

Your face flushed red and you cleared your throat. “Uh, thank you…”

“It’s so nice to see young couples like yourselves-”

“Yes, thank you,” you repeated a little forcefully, pushing your cart and walking away from the talkative woman. Jinyoung followed after you too, his own cheeks slightly pink. He might have been inexperienced but he was extremely sharp and he’d clearly picked up on the older woman’s assumptions. You pushed your cart until the spot where Minnie was dancing and grabbed her hand.

“Come on Minnie, let’s go get your ice cream and pay for that headband, okay?”

“Cat ears!” she corrected you indignantly.

You exchanged an exasperated look with Jinyoung, who was chuckling, and then nodded at the little girl. “Yes, okay, let’s go pay for your cat ears.”

“I’m going to look just like Jinyoung-oppa!”

You finally managed to finish shopping and lugged all the groceries back to your apartment with Jinyoung’s help. You had to admire how he managed to carry the heavier bags along with Minnie still clinging onto his back, but Jinyoung was clearly stronger than he looked. He finally sat Minnie back down in front of the television to resume her cartoons and came into the kitchen where you were unpacking groceries.

“Need help?” Jinyoung offered, taking off his snapback and setting it on the kitchen counter.

“No, I’m fine, you can go play with Minnie,” you reassured him lightly, turning to look at him. You gasped when you saw the state of Jinyoung’s black ears. They were squished against his head, flattened by the hat he’d been wearing and one of them was crooked. “Jinyoung! That looks so painful! You honestly didn’t have to wear the snapback if it was pressing your ears so badly!”

Jinyoung froze as you stepped closer to him and reached up to gently smoothen his ears with your fingers. He let out a soft purr as your fingers stroked the soft part of his ears and you gently unfolded them to sit straight on his head again. You sighed when you noticed that they were still crooked. “You don’t need to hide your ears in public. If people have a problem with the fact that you’re a hybrid then they’ll deal with it. I don’t want you wearing those hats anymore,” you scolded him.

Jinyoung looked down at you, his gaze soft. “Okay,” he agreed quietly.

“I want you to be comfortable. You know that, right?”

He nodded, reaching out and pulling you into his arms tightly. Your heartbeat thudded as he nuzzled his head into your neck and let his nose brush your collarbone. Jinyoung’s grip around you was tight and comforting. It wasn’t your first time in his arms and you were starting to realize that you really enjoyed the feeling. It made you feel warm and pleasant, the way his strong arms wrapped around your waist and you could hear his soft heartbeat. You wrapped your arms around him as well, inhaling his soft scent before gently pushing him back.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said with a laugh. “I have to cook.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You stared at him, shocked. Had you just heard him right? Did he just ask if he could kiss you? You gaped at him for a long moment, your mouth falling open lightly. You could tell that Jinyoung’s intense gaze was on your lips and he looked up into your eyes nervously. No matter how much you tried, words wouldn’t come out. Your heartbeat just kept thudding. “I…”

“I know you told me that what I did last night wasn’t okay,” Jinyoung muttered quietly, his gaze flickering nervously between your eyes and lips. His arms still held you in his grasp. “I just did it on instinct because I couldn’t stand Jackson’s scent on you. But then I remembered watching this one scene on a drama when you were in college last week and… well, the guy asked before he kissed someone so I thought maybe I just needed to ask.”

You tried to clear your mind. “Uh, it’s… it’s definitely a good thing that you asked, Jinyoung, but…”

“So I can kiss you?” Jinyoung asked hopefully, leaning forward. He looked disappointed when your eyes widened in panic. “Or was it the other thing that the guy said? Are you worried that I didn’t say that? Because I can say that too.”

“Huh? What other thing?”

“I love you.”

Your mind went blank. There was just something about the way this gorgeous, handsome man held you in his arms and looked down at you so adoringly while whispering the words I love you, that made you wonder if you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real. But Jinyoung was looking down at you patiently. His dark ears were crooked, his dark eyes expectant and his beautiful lips slightly parted as they stopped inches away from yours.

“Jinyoung, I… that’s not… I mean…”

“Help me understand,” he pleaded quietly, his warm breath brushing your face. “What can I do that will make it okay for me to kiss you?”

Nothing, you thought to yourself silently, heart sinking. Nothing will make it okay, because you’re a hybrid and you don’t really love me. It’s your natural instinct to obey me and respect me because I’m your owner. Nothing in the world could ever make this relationship normal or healthy.

You felt like you were ripping a part of yourself away as you gently placed your hands on Jinyoung’s chest and pushed yourself away from him. His eyes looked disappointed, arms subconsciously reaching out for you again before he forced himself to drop them at his sides. You wanted to cry at the look of hurt on his face. You cleared your throat and stepped back.

“It’s difficult to explain, Jinyoung. Maybe we should, um, hold off on kissing for now, okay?”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “But I want to understand-“

“Let me make lunch? Minnie’s going to start crying from hunger in a while and I don’t want to have to deal with that,” you said, trying to force your voice to sound light and casual. Jinyoung didn’t look convinced. His eyes scanned yours for a long moment, clearly searching for something before he dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay. If you don’t want me to do it then I won’t. I want you to be comfortable too,” he said quietly. “I’ll go sit with Minnie.”

The rest of the evening was slightly awkward, but you could tell that Jinyoung was still trying hard to enjoy himself and keep Minnie entertained. He came up with some fun games to convince her to eat the pasta and they played around until the little girl finally fell asleep, exhausted. By the time your sister came to pick Minnie up, she was out like a light and didn’t even stir when Jinyoung carried her all the way down to your sister’s car.

“Today was exhausting,” you muttered, once Minnie and your sister were gone.

Jinyoung smiled and shrugged. “I had fun.”

“You’re surprisingly good with kids. I would never have expected it of you,” you said with a laugh, nudging Jinyoung. His cheeks flushed a little pink and he looked down at his lap shyly. Part of you wondered if the Jinyoung that you’d dealt with during the first two days of his stay here even existed anymore. You couldn’t see any traces of his past self. You tore your eyes away from him and looked around.

“But damn, my apartment is always such a mess when Minnie comes over,” you complained.

You were flustered when Jinyoung leaned over and pressed his lips to your forehead lightly. His hand squeezed yours and he gave you a gentle, heart-warming smile before he spoke. “You never even treated your hang-over properly, and you have class tomorrow. You should go to bed. I’ll clean up here. I made most of the mess myself while playing with Minnie anyway.”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yup. Good night.”

You couldn’t help it; you wrapped your arms around Jinyoung shyly and gave him a quick hug. Your sudden rush of affection for him wasn’t coming out of nowhere. You realized how grateful you were that he helped you deal with Minnie all day, came out to the grocery store even though it made him nervous, and didn’t even question you when you told him not to kiss you.

“Thank you for being so amazing today,” you mumbled. You released Jinyoung and noticed that his eyes were wide, his entire face flushing a deep red as he gaped at you. He looked more flustered than you’d ever seen him and his mouth opened and closed like a fish before he finally choked out.

“That’s… that’s okay,” he muttered. You nodded and smiled at him, before turning to go into your bedroom. Just before you closed the door behind you though, you swore you could have heard Jinyoung whisper I love you. But when you whirled around to look at him, he was picking up stray DVD cases from off the floor with his back turned to you. Maybe you’d heard wrong.

Yeah, that was it. You’d heard wrong. He wouldn’t say something like that twice, would he?

Did he even understand what it meant?

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 fluff #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung hybrid #got7 hybrid #hybrid!au #jinyoung angst #jinyoung cute

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p-artsypants · 6 years ago

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Boy Toy (Act IX)

I have been reading each and every review that comes in, and I appreciate all of them! I also understand some of you are worried about the ending. And I promise, all of my stories have happy endings! (Because it makes the suffering worth it.)

FF.net | AO3

—

With the collapse of Bludvist, its seemed like the whole Kingdom as they knew it did a complete 180. Daily, Stoick received letters asking for loans and building permits to finally fix some essential buildings. The hospital was on the top of the list. It had been knocked down, looted, and burned over and over again, but Stoick had been adamant that building had to survive, no matter what. So now, with the threat of constant destruction gone, an entire new hospital was being built.

Next on the list was the orphanage. For obvious reasons. Stoick was also offering, what was essentially, free money to those who needed it the most. Families were coming in groups, each collecting a sum and then pooling them together to make enough for a really nice housing unit. Once spring broke in a few weeks, the building could begin, and life would go on.

But that was not so for everyone. Almost immediately after the attack, three men came to Stoick, groveling. They spoke of a plot of assassination on the Tsar’s head, and begged forgiveness since they turned themselves in.

Since none of them knew any helpful information on the matter, they were thrown into the dungeon, and security in the palace was doubled. There wasn’t much else to be done.

Meanwhile, Hiccup and Astrid continued their daily walks. Slowly this time, as Hiccup was still recovering from his grievous wounds, and he had a new leg to get used to. Toothless likewise was recovering, but the brave little thing was doing fine.

“Astrid, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“When…before I was taken…I had this feeling.” Though he had decided to brooch the subject, he couldn’t quite find his words. “Were there days when you didn’t wind me up?”

Astrid glanced to the snow. “Yes,” she stated, softly. That was before she knew he was human, when she thought she could do what she wanted. “It was days when the calendar was just full of meetings and brunches…I knew I wouldn’t have any time to really interact with you…so I just left you off.”

He furrowed his brows as he studied her. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”

God, had he already learned to read her so well? That was a painful thought.

“You got me.” She admitted. “There were days I didn’t start you up…because…” She couldn’t say it. It was just to horrible, and just confirmed everyone’s hateful words about her.

“You started to grow tired of me?”

Her eyes slammed shut. So he figured her out? Well, it was fairly obvious. In the past months, he had proven his intelligence and had already come a long way from the naïve puppet he was at the beginning.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not.” She frowned hard, holding in painful thoughts. “You’re my husband…my best friend. And I treated you like dirt.”

“Astrid, you didn’t know…”

“I should have!” She shouted, disrupting the peaceful snowfall around them. “I spent the most time around you, so I should have seen it! I should have seen that you had a heart and feelings—“ She turned her head away from him, hiding her shame. “But I was so blinded that I missed it all.”

Warm hands encircled her shoulders. “But that was then, and you came for me. Now, you’ve opened up to me. I forgive you, Astrid.”

His words allowed her shoulders to relax and her head to roll forward. “I…I’m going to make this up to you, Hiccup. You’ve suffered your whole life, and now I want you to enjoy your time you have left.”

He smiled at her gently, and let his fingers dance across her cheek. “I don’t remember much of my old life. My purpose now is just to make you happy. So don’t worry about me, okay?”

Though she audibly agreed, on the inside, she had a much different plan.

—

The next morning, she awoke to see Hiccup still asleep next to her. His body was still, not breathing like a normal human, but pressing her head to his chest, she still heard the ticking of gears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “But I need you to stay asleep today.”

She dressed on her own, before Ruff or Tuff even arrived. And when they did, she surprised them by opening the door before they could knock.

“Oh, you’re up early.” Ruff acknowledged.

“I have business to attend to today.”

“Like the brunch with Heather Zerker?”

She had forgotten about that. “I need to reschedule. Today I’m doing something for Hiccup.”

The twins stared in awe, and then scrambled to take care of the necessary preparations.

“Yes!” Cried Ruff, glancing at her list. “We’ll take care of everything! Don’t worry a bit!”

“And, one more thing...” she warned them. “Hiccup is powered off for the day, because what I’m doing is a secret. Leave it that way.”

The twins saluted.

“Good,” she stated, adjusting her cloak to cover part of her face. “Now fetch Snotlout. I’m going out.”

—

The first stop on her errand run was to Gobber’s.

The toy maker was busy at work, he and Fishlegs were repairing some of the more salvageable toys she had in the basement of the castle.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.

“Your majesty!” Fishlegs nearly shouted, dropping a screwdriver.

“As you were,” she stated cooly.

“Well Princess,” greeted Gobber. “What can I do you for? Is Hiccup alright?” He noted the boy’s absence.

“My husband is doing well since the incident.” She provided. “But I’m here on a private matter, one that must remain secret from him.”

Fishlegs stopped his working and listened in interest.

“Oh?” Asked Gobber.

“I would like his name, his real name.”

Gobber sighed, “Are you sure about this? He doesn’t have any memories and he—“

“His name, Gobber.”

“…it’s Henry.”

The memory of the woman during the parade came to mind. She had also called him Henry.

“And his last name?”

“I don’t know.” Gobber shrugged. “When the lad was still a little thing, maybe around 8 or 9, he came and asked me to teach him how to make toys, because he couldn’t afford to buy them himself. So I took him in as an apprentice. He said he didn’t have a last name, and that he lived with his mother in the narrows.”

The narrows were a part of the town down by the docks. Where most of the buildings were abandoned warehouses, there were a handful of shacks, some being only a room with a whole family in it. Being so far from the market meant they were far from the Berk Guard. There was no protection from criminals, but there were rarely raids from Bludvist all the way down there.

“So he was your apprentice?” She asked, “for how long?”

“Up until he died, actually. Fishlegs joined us about two years ago, when we made that working catapult.”

Ah yes, she remembered that one. A great deal of fun.

“You met him a few times too, on birthdays and Christmas.”

Her eyes widened. “What? I did? I don’t remember…”

“He never introduced himself, but he was there when we delivered presents. He said he enjoyed seeing your reaction.”

A guilty knife stabbed her in the gut and made her weak in the knees.

“I met his mother on occasion, but she seemed like a very private person. Didn’t say much, and never stayed for very long. But she loved him immensely. He never knew his father.”

“When did he…you know…?”

Gobber sighed, sitting on his bench. He glanced to a room in the back corner, that was covered by a sheet. “I should have noticed sooner. He never ate the food I gave him, instead wrapping it up to take home to share with his mother. He was always skinny, skinny as a twig. But then one day, he fell in the snow and broke a few ribs. It wasn’t a bad fall, so I knew something was wrong. Turned out, he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His mother was ill, and he gave her every morsel he could scrape up. All the while, he was lying to her that he was eating his own portions. So we sat him down, and forced him to actually eat. But by then…it was too late. His mother came to me crying, and said that he went to bed feeling sick, and never woke up.”

Tears came to Astrid’s eyes, hating everything that was being said.

“We buried him, and then we came to your birthday ball.”

Her eyes widened. “Right after?”

“It was a good distraction.” Provided Fishlegs.

“When you said ’I want you to make me a husband’ my immediate thought was ‘we should bring Henry back.’”

“How?” She asked, “How on earth did you do it? In three days, no less?”

Gobber beckoned her and Snotlout into the back room. It was a workstation, and it looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. “Is this…?”

“His work room, yes. Henry was extremely smart and creative, despite having no education. He taught himself how to read, and did research on physics, aerodynamics, human and animal anatomy…everything that caught his interest.” Gobber picked up a journal that sat on the workbench. “It started innocent. He found a little black cat that was missing a leg, and nursed it back to health, creating a fake leg for him.”

“Toothless!” She exclaimed.

Gobber stared at her in surprise. “Yes, that was what he called him. How did you know that?”

She smiled, fondly. “He…Toothless was following him. Hiccup found him in the courtyard and took care of him. He dubbed him Toothless out of the blue, and the name stuck.”

Gobber smoothed his mustache. “It seems…some of his memories are coming back to him.”

Astrid nodded, but said nothing, urging him to continue.

“Not long after people noticed Toothless walking everywhere with him, a little old woman came to us. She had lost her cat to old age, but she wanted her companion with her for the time she had left. So Hiccup designed a…system of sorts. Something that worked like an artificial heart to keep the body running like it normally would. Only, it had to be powered by a hand crank. Therefore, the wind up key. When it worked, we kind of thought he was crazy, but he promised never to touch it again.”

“You mean he designed…that whole thing?”

“Yes, every detail and note is contained in this.” Gobber handed her the journal. “He didn’t create it with the intention to revive a human, and if I hadn’t been drinking, I probably wouldn’t have tried to do it either. It is rather…morbid and wrong.”

Astrid didn’t say anything, just held the journal in her hand.

“But, of anyone in Berk that deserved a second chance…I think he definitely earned it.”

Astrid wiped her eyes.

“Does that give you closure?”

She looked to him. “Does he have any other journals? Can I take them to him?”

Gobber frowned. “Are you sure? If he reads these…it could bring back old memories.”

“That’s what I want. I know he suffered, but he deserves to know the truth about who he was.”

Gobber sighed, knowing there was no arguing with the Princess. So he simply nodded and got to work packaging up all his notes and sketchbooks. “Just be careful.”

She nodded.

—

The next stop was the graveyard. she wasn’t quite sure why she decided to come here, but she just wanted to see his grave. Maybe to cement the fact that her husband was dead at one point.

Problem was, the graveyard was fairly large, since Bludvist tended to keep things busy.

“Do we even know if his graved was marked?” Asked Snotlout.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I should have asked Gobber.”

“Pardon me,” a voice spoke.

Turning, they were greeted by a man not much older than the Princess, looking rather large and imposing. He wore red robes, those associated with the church, but had three blue lines inked on his broad chin.

“You’re a—“ Astrid began, taking a few steps towards her guard.

“A milk drinker?” He asked, pleasantly. “Yes, I was. Don’t worry, it frightens everyone. I may have been born up in the mountains, but I don’t consider it my home. My name is Eret, I’m the undertaker here. Now that you know that I’m not going to hurt you, can I help you?”

Astrid smiled in relief, but Snotlout did not relax his guard. “I’m looking for a grave. The name Henry, buried around November 13th.”

“Hmm…last name?”

“No last name.”

“No last name? Oh! I think I actually know who you’re talking about. This way.”

The Princess and her guard followed Eret past all sorts of statues of angels and headstones, until he stopped at a little plot. It was only marked with a puny wooden cross. “Well, this is it. Young Henry, died of starvation.”

“Yes, this would be the grave we’re looking for.” There was no body in it, but just the sight of the cross sent a real, true coldness to her bones. She crossed her arms a little.

“Did you know him?” The undertaker asked.

He obviously had no idea who she was, since her hood hid her identity. And it was safer that way. “No, not really. Did you?”

“A bit.” Said Eret. “I began to keep an eye on his mother after his passing. She’s quite ill, and it’s only a matter of time before…”

“What is she ill with?” Astrid asked, not hiding the concern in her voice.

“Not sure. She can’t afford a doctor. We here call it poverty disease. It’s when someone gets sick, and then can’t afford any care. Eventually it’s just exacerbated by them trying to continue working…”

“Where is she? I’d love to help.”

“She lives down in the narrows, by the old fishery. Her name is Valerie.”

—

Astrid, for being the Princess of a country, had never been to the narrows before. Surely, Stoick would throttle her if he found out she went there with only one guard.

“Hey Astrid?” Snotlout asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re good at fighting too. This place makes me nervous. Not that I can’t protect you, but…”

“I wonder how many times Hiccup was jumped coming home from work?”

Snotlout sneered, “once would be too many.”

They spotted a woman doing laundry, and asked her if she knew of a woman named Valerie. Then they were pointed in the right direction. Despite the grittiness of the area, the folks were helpful enough. Though Astrid did receive a few too many lewd looks while Snotlout received the finger.

“I dressed down,” Astrid noted, looking at her plain clothes. “But I still look a lot nicer than all these people.”

“Lets just find Hiccup’s mom and get out of here.”

Finally, they came to a little shack. Smoke rose out of the little tin chimney, indicating that someone was home. Astrid knocked, “Hello? Miss Valerie?”

A weak voice answered from within. “Who is it? What do you want?”

“I…am a friend of your son’s. I would just like a word, please.”

There was a pause and then, “come in.”

The shack was in order. A small room with two beds opposite of each other, and a fire pit in the middle of the dirt floor. Nothing else was there to mention.

In one bed laid a woman, looking incredibly thin and frail. She fought to sit up, coughing a few times. “Hello?”

Astrid didn’t know what to say. A few months ago, she had mocked this woman, and called her crazy. But now, she was meeting her mother in law, and didn’t have a clue how to proceed. “Uh…”

“You knew my Henry?” The woman’s eyes were filled with sorrow, and the dirt on her hollow cheeks made her look like a skeleton.

Oh, Astrid should have put more thought into this. Yes, reuniting Hiccup was his mother sounded like a wonderfully kind thing to do. But the woman had already lost her son once, and now he was going again. This wasn’t fair to her.

“Please,” said Valerie. “Tell me how you knew him...I miss him so much.”

With a sad sigh, Astrid stepped forward, and took a seat on the bed, pulling her hood from her face. “I know your son…”

“You’re…the Princess Astrid? But…how? Why? Here?” She shook her head. “Your husband, during the parade…”

“He is Henry,” She confirmed, holding the woman’s hand. “He’s alive.”

“He’s a—…” The woman dissolved into tears and curled in on herself.

Snotlout watched in awe as his princess embraced this filthy beggar woman in a comforting hug. He had fairly recent memories of Astrid spitting on such people.

But that was before Hiccup came along.

“Snotlout,” Astrid called.

“Highness,” he snapped to attention.

“Can you fetch a carriage? She needs to come with us to the palace.”

“No, no please...” the woman begged, her tears making streaks in the dirt on her face.

“Listen,” Astrid said, taking a firm grasp of her arms. “Henry is...he’s not the same boy that you knew. He did die, that is true. But the toy maker brought him back. He doesn’t remember who he used to be, and his body is entirely dependent on machinery now.”

“...what?” The woman breathed.

“Unfortunately...there’s been a malfunction.” She looked into the mother’s eyes, and felt her voice die in her throat. This wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be doing this! “He...he won’t last much longer. But you deserve to be with him, too.”

Valerie shut her eyes tight as she continued to cry, overwhelmed in grief and relief.

“But you’re very ill, and I can’t let you stay here.”

“I can’t!” Valerie protested. “I can’t go with you!”

Astrid pleaded with her, earnestly. “I’m not leaving my mother in law to starve like a wretch in this squalor! You’re coming with us!”

“No!” She cried. “It’s not safe for me! It’s not safe for Stoick! I can’t go back!”

Wait.

“What?” Asked Astrid, leaning closer. “What did you say?” No one ever called the Tsar by his first name alone, well, except for her.

Valerie shook her head. “I’ve already said too much, I can’t…it’s not safe…”

Gently, Astrid grasped the woman’s arm again. “Please. If this a threat to our safety, you need to tell me.”

The woman wiped her eyes, trembling. “I’m sorry…I…Valerie isn’t my real name.”

Astrid just stared at her, eyes narrowing.

“My name is Valka, Valka Haddock.”

Silence reigned as Astrid stood suddenly, shell shocked. Haddock was Stoick’s last name, a rare fact because of the royal status. And Valka…Valka had been the name of his late wife. The one taken by Bludvist.

“I don’t—“ Astrid stuttered, “I don’t understand. You’re the queen?”

Valka hushed her, “you mustn’t speak so loud!”

“I’m sorry,” Astrid took a calming breath and returned to sitting on the bed. “Please, continue. I’m all ears.”

Valka gnawed at her lip, nervously. “Stoick and I…we were married. At first, it was…a rough marriage. Arranged.”

She had heard a little about the marriage from Stoick. He wasn’t keen on talking about it, but when prodded, he admitted that he had been fond of her before she was lost.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” began the woman, “I was…overjoyed. Stoick was a nice, gentle man, but he didn’t love me the way I loved him. With our baby, it was like…I’d finally have a part of him to love me back. However…the Chancellor, Osvald Zerker, was not happy about this news.”

“The Chancellor? Why?”

“Because if anything happened to Stoick, he would win the crown.”

She had heard nothing of this before. “What? Since when?”

“Since Stoick was an only child with no heirs. Technically, Spitelout, the Captain of the Guard, was the closest relative, but he was not deemed competent enough to rule. So Osvald was deemed viceroy. That is…until the crown prince was to be born.”

A cold fear crept into the back of Astrid’s mind when she remembered Dagur. During a the fight that ensued over Mala’s pregnancy, he had carelessly mentioned that he was only interested in her for her power. Now it seemed like Dagur hadn’t gotten that idea on his own.

“Osvald came to me one night, two guards with him,” Valka continued. “He gave me a choice. I could purposefully lose my baby, or I could save him and kill Stoick in his sleep. If I refused to both, they would take me to Bludvist, and that would be the cue to start the raids on the royals.”

“So…Osvald wanted to take the throne?” Astrid asked. This would confirm the plot of assassination those men had warned them about.

“Yes, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get it.”

This was turning out to be a very interesting and insightful day. As soon as they returned to the palace, she would make sure that Osvald was jailed.

“I chose to run. After a while, the guard stopped looking for me, and assumed I was taken by Bludvist. In this way, I was able to protect Henry and Stoick.”

“Oh my god!” Astrid said suddenly, the last bit of information clicking into place. “Hi—Henry is Stoick’s son!”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“He’s the Crown Prince!”

“Yes.”

Astrid put her hands on her head, dealing with this information. What a strange twist of fate. She shook herself out of her trance. If all this was true, she had a lot of work left to do. “Well, it’s safe now.” Astrid assured. “Osvald can threaten you all he likes, but I personally saw that Bludvist was eradicated. And we are aware of the assassination plot, so the guard in the palace in on alert.”

“But some of the guards are plotting with Osvald!”

“Never the less,” Astrid pressed. “I am next in line for the throne. If he wants to hurt Stoick, he’ll have to get to me first, and I will personally make him suffer as Fragonard suffered.”

Uncertainty was still violently within Valka. After all, she had spent her whole life hiding, and just a few words were supposed to put her at ease?

“You’re coming with us. I’m not giving you a choice.”

Resigned, Valka closed her eyes. “Alright then, I’ll come back.”

#boy toy #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #hiccup #astrid #Astrid Hofferson #Snotlout #fanfiction #hiccstrid #pinocchio!AU

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frostyviking · 7 years ago

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Hey, maybe you could check out a counter pov for the whole light fury romance plot which is posted on my Tumblr? It's too long to fit in an ask box. I know you might not like the fact that the light fury is being used as an excuse to separate Hiccup and Toothless, but I have a feeling Dean will be able to develop her as a decent character and convince us all that she is indeed something that Toothless is currently missing in his life, in the same way that he showed the need for Valka.

Post here

my reply is under the read more because oops this got long

My issue with your argument is that you’re kinda reducing Toothless to be a basic animal. You’re saying that it has to be a female night fury so that Toothless will be interested and choose her over Hiccup. “it can’t be just any ordinary night fury either as Toothless would surely pick Hiccup over any random night fury” I’m sorry but that just rubs me wrong. Animals (Toothless too) can be motivated beyond sex. If the cons of staying is more than the pros, animals will leave.

I think the opposing ideas is because we’re seeing this issue differently. You’re trying to see what will entice Toothless to get him to leave, while I’m seeing what will happen that will force him and the other dragons to leave. Just note that in the books, Toothless never leaves Hiccup. All the dragons are leaving, but Toothless chose to stay with Hiccup for the rest of his life.

And this is exactly my issue with romance stories. The romantic interest is seen as more important, more valuable, than friends or family. It’s still choosing to abandon platonic relationships to pursue this romantic one.

I believe there doesn’t even need to be another night fury. The books didn’t have any love interest to convince the dragons that they need to leave. Hiccup and Toothless didn’t need some other dragon to be willing to explore their world further. I personally believe that posing the issue of the dragons leaving as something that is personal wants vs needs of the society to be much more powerful than including a love interest.

“I have a feeling Dean will be able to develop her as a decent character and convince us all that she is indeed something that Toothless is currently missing in his life, in the same way that he showed the need for Valka.”

I trust Dean, I really really do. But I don’t want there to be a new reason to explain this female dragon. I don’t this to appear so everything is okay now. It’s not. I think we have different thoughts on Valka’s purpose. Valka in the books was also never really a mother figure. She’s not here to be a mother. I really believe she’s to take on the position of a world of dragons away from humans. “People can’t change” and maybe she’s right. How many nice words and forbidden friendships do we need to change people like Drago? People who will use dragons for their own gain.

What is Toothless missing? We were never shown that he even slightly misses other night furies. Is he even aware of this type of thought? That he may be the last of his kind? A cat wouldn’t know, wouldn’t care if it was the last one on earth. That’s an advance form of existential thinking that not many animals possess. The only thing we’ve seen Toothless miss is flying on his own from gotnf. But that was just to get Hiccup his helmet. He gave up that gift right after. As far as we’ve seen, Toothless has everything he needs already.

Honestly trying to convince me a potential romance being okay is moot. I’m personally very against romance. I don’t ship things, I simply despise it. There’s no convincing me. I also want to address other parts of your post

The thing about your comment about the “carbon copy Forbidden Friendship” is that there’s already rumors that Toothless meeting this light fury is going to be a forbidden friendship-esque scene.

Also yes, httyd2 showed that Hiccup can do more when it comes to the whole “A chief protects his own”. He was able to save the dragons from Drago and Berk. But at what cost? Hiccup ran away, so Stoick, Gobber, the other kids went after him. Berk was pretty much left defenseless. Hiccup saved the dragons, but what about the Vikings? We never learned if anyone got hurt from the ice. And what if “his own” are the ones that are hurting the dragons? That’s the dilemma Hiccup and Toothless have to deal with. httyd is all about Hiccup showing other people that humans and dragons can live in peace. It’s possible. But proof of it just isn’t enough.

I believe that the ending of httyd is a comment on the selfishness of human nature, and how our stubborn refusal to change can be harming to others. Just like how we’re a cause for the extinction of animals. We just take their homes, have animals as pets in spaces that are much too small for them to live in. I think having this romantic component is not necessary, there’s already so much here to use. It just muddles this issue.

As for the light fury design, too many people are trying to find reasons through biological examples. But this isn’t real life. People deliberately made each choice to design this light fury exactly as she appears. Even then, this post brilliantly explains why the biological reasonings people have been using don’t work. Of course there are exceptions, but this doesn’t make sense when considering what the majority of animal patterning looks like. (I won’t say anymore, the post covers it perfectly). We shouldn’t be justifying things as an exception. “This woman in engineering is just an exception, all other women aren’t capable of this” calling the woman an exception is ignoring the larger question “why aren’t there more women in engineering?” Saying this light fury is an exception to natural patterning, is ignoring “why did the artists choose to do this?”

I can’t accept this light fury because 1) she’s been described consistently as a love interest and 2) she is following the female-anthropomorphized animal trope that too many companies do. The first point is already hard for me to accept but the second one is just making this impossible. I love and trust Dreamworks, but not Universal. I’m afraid they had influence in this film.

I hope you don’t see this as me just ignoring your thoughts. I just cannot accept any justification for this. Especially not when comparing to how the books approached the issue. I know different mediums, different ways of approach, but this is still imo way out of whack to how httyd usually is. Hopefully the movie will prove me wrong, but everything we’ve gotten is just the opposite of what I’ve been expecting in the past 4 years.

#jeremykuan #frosty messages #thanks for asking #note: logical arguments probably won't work for me because this is an emotional issue for me

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bovivinator · 7 years ago

Text

Conversion - HTTYD Fanfic

While Hiccup sleeps, his world transforms around him. Some changes are big, some are small, but he is the unknowing catalyst for them all.

Dedicated to @httyd-was-a-great-movie for letting me request stuff all the time, and to @dragondecker for lots of fun hours in plants class. Good luck in animation! Merry Christmas!

Takes place near the end of the first movie, before Hiccup wakes up after the Red Death battle. I tried subtly focus on changing perspectives. Hint: pay attention to the pronouns.

Fanfiction.net | Archive of Our Own | DeviantArt | Other Stories

Gobber heaved his way up to the Haddock home, grimacing when his peg leg was jostled by a loose stone. In his good hand, he clutched supplies to take measurements for Hiccup’s new leg. He had seen Gothi and her assistant entering the Bjarnesen home several minutes earlier, no doubt to attend to Snorre’s badly-burnt arm, and had taken the opportunity to start his project without getting in her way. A Nadder shrieked as it swooped close overhead and he flinched, clamping down on the urge to rush for a shield. Strange and unnerving as this days-old peace with the dragons had been, he had no desire to reignite the past violence with a too-hasty reaction. Never let it be said that Vikings preferred an uneventful life, but the Hairy Hooligans were not as stupid as his apprentice seemed to believe. Some battles were worth avoiding.

Still, this transition was proving to be a difficult one. The communication barriers between the two groups were much more obvious now that they were actually trying to get along, and there had already been several minor injuries resulting from unavoidable misunderstandings. Hiccup’s survival had certainly been a gift from Odin, but Loki had gotten his say, too, in keeping him asleep where his ability to befriend dragons was out of reach. His fellow trainees’ attempts to spread what little he had taught them when they teamed up with the training dragons were welcome, if rather paltry in the face of this enormous task.

Thankfully, the dragons seemed as eager as the humans to play nice and not hold grudges, or the whole situation might have quite literally gone up in flames already. That these seemingly-bloodthirsty creatures would take deliberate care around their new neighbors, often choosing to fly away from a conflict instead of fighting back, was going a long way to convince Gobber that dragons were also much more intelligent than they had been given credit for.

The biggest proof of that, however, was lurking behind the chief’s door now in front of him.

He tapped on the scarred wood with his tongs-attachment and it opened inward a few moments later. Stoick squinted as the sunlight met his eyes and sagged in relief when he saw his visitor wasn’t there with another dragon complaint. “Gobber. I’m glad you’re here.” His head was bare and the lines in his face were noticeably deeper than they had been only a week before. The main source of his stress lay unconscious in the bed behind him.

Gobber nodded by way of greeting. “How’s the lad holding up?” He glanced around the room as he hobbled in, but there was no Night Fury in sight. Had it finally gone to join the other dragons? “He’s not woken?”

“No.” His friend closed the door behind him. “Mumbled a bit when Gothi changed the wraps, but never opened his eyes. We have Eir’s blessing, though, he’s healing well.” He eyed the bundle in Gobber’s hand. “Is that…?”

“For the leg, yeah. I could whip up another peg in a jiffy, but I’m thinking he’ll be wanting something a little more, ah, unique.”

Stoick smiled at that. “No, I can’t imagine he’d settle for anything simple.” His voice was layered with equal parts affection and sorrow, and the smith clapped a supportive hand to his shoulder.

“Don’tcha worry, Stoick, he’ll be back to driving you up the wall in no time. Then you’ll be wishing you’d appreciated the peace and quiet a little more. And there’s a bright side, too, he won’t have to worry about sock-stealing trolls anymore!” The chief leveled a flat stare at him and Gobber chuckled.

He moved to the bed and used his tongs to lift a corner of the bedcovers. Something creaked above him, and he glanced upward only to jerk back and swear as his eyes met a green, slitted pair that almost seemed to float in the air. Draped over a rafter, the dragon’s body was difficult to see in the dim lighting. It had tensed into a crouch, probably in response to his approaching Hiccup. A rumbling noise spilled from its mouth, not a growl, but still a warning. A reminder of the creature’s watchfulness over its rider.

“He won’t stop you,” Stoick said, when the staring match didn’t seem likely to end any time soon. “He let Gothi do her work just fine.”

“How long has the beastie been up there?” Gobber directed his question to Stoick, his gaze not leaving the Night Fury.

“Since Gothi changed the wraps. He was lying by the bed before, but wouldn’t leave the room when she needed him out of the way. This was the compromise.”

“Huh.” Finally looking back down, Gobber pulled the covers away from Hiccup’s stump again and began to work, eyes occasionally flickering up to the occupied rafter. He hadn’t intended to be ungentle to start with, but his actions held an extra level of care prompted by the feral presence above. The dragon, for its part, relaxed after a few moments, settling against the rafter like an enormous winged cat, tail twitching from time to time. It never stopped watching, though.

“What’d Hiccup call it, again?” Gobber’s question broke the silence. “The Night Fury?”

Stoick grunted in an amused way. “Toothless.”

“Toothless?” The smith’s eyebrows shot upward, and he glanced at the menacing shadow above, which had perked up when the wholly-inaccurate name was voiced. He shook his head and reminded himself that Hiccup’s mind worked in strange ways.

Gobber finished quickly, despite the pressure. Measurements taken and injured boy tucked back in, he sat next to the weary father to keep company a little longer. “The leg should be done day after tomorrow. I’ll make sure to strap it on so he don’t wake up stuck in bed.”

That got him a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I want him stuck in bed for a bit. You know he won’t be as careful with that injury as he should.”

“No, Stoick, the last thing he needs is to feel trapped. It’ll be hard enough as is.”

Nodding, Stoick acquiesced. “I won’t argue with that. Besides,” he sighed “if he couldn’t walk, he’d probably just ride Toothless out of the house anyway. There’s no keeping him down.” This time it was pride that warmed the chief’s voice.

“Too true.” A chortle sprung from Gobber’s lips. “Y’know, maybe I won’t make him a leg after all. Walking’s far too mundane for him, he’ll just fly on dragonback everywhere he goes! Just think of it!”

Stoick began to chuckle as well. “Ay, no need for a prosthetic limb when you’ve got the offspring of lightning and death as your shadow! It’s just the sort of dramatic thing he’d love.”

They laughed together, the oppressive weight of the sickroom lifting with their cheer.

Suddenly, the door banged open and Alva, the village tanner, burst in. “Chief! We need—”

Her interruption was cut short when a black blur shot from the ceiling and tackled her to the ground, hissing and growling. The woman gave a very unvikingly shriek at the sight of the fanged maw (see, Hiccup, plenty of teeth!) and angrily narrowed eyes above her. Stoick shot to his feet.

“Whoa, now!” Gobber cried, following. “Back off, dragon!”

The Night Fury ignored him, continuing to snarl at the villager pinned beneath its paws. Its ear-plates were pressed flat to its head, and its wings were spread to make it look bigger and more threatening. Though it made no move to attack further, it was an intimidating sight.

Stoick approached carefully, hands held out. “Toothless,” an ear rose, “let her go.” The black-scaled head swung around to give at the red-bearded man a look Gobber would almost call questioning. “She’s not a danger,” Stoick stressed, coming closer.

The dragon eyed Alva for a moment longer, then stepped back and slunk over to Hiccup’s bedside, where it kept watch on the Viking men.

Eyes wide and face pale, the woman took the hand the chief offered her and stood on shaking legs.

Gobber released a heavy breath. “Perhaps it’d be wise not to come barging in somewhere a protective Night Fury’s holed up in, eh?”

“What do you need, Alva?” Stoick asked with a hint of exasperation.

Eyes still glued to the dragon on the other side of the room, she couldn’t seem to remember. “Ah...there was a thing...um, a problem with some, uh, Gronckles…”

The giant man sighed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, go tell everyone.” Alva left quickly, still rattled.

As soon as the door closed, the Night Fury turned away and started tending to Hiccup, nuzzling at his brow and giving little licks to his face. Gobber watched in amazement, the gentle behavior so different from the ferocity it had displayed only moments ago. Stoick crossed to his bearskin cloak hanging on the opposite wall and swung it around his shoulders.

“Hang on,” Gobber started. “you’re not leaving the dragon here alone with him?”

“I can’t depend on Spitelout to do everything until he wakes up, not with all this upheaval.” His friend placed his helmet on his head.

“I can’t stay, I’ve got my work to do.”

“I’m not asking you to. It’s only for a bit, and...they’ve likely already spent more time alone together than I like to think about.”

Gobber now remembered the sketches he’d found in his apprentice’s backroom the day before. He considered their subject, who had now climbed onto the bed and was carefully arranging his body around Hiccup’s so as not to jostle his stump leg.

Stoick opened the door. “Besides,” he said, pausing in the frame. “You were right, Gobber.”

The smith turned back towards him. “About what?”

“I can’t protect him forever...but that doesn’t mean nobody will.” The not-so-weary-anymore father shared a look with the creature next to his son, and something passed between them, an understanding revolving around the boy asleep in the bed. Stoick nodded, Toothless blinked, then they both turned away. The chief left the house and the dragon rested his chin next to the pillow, nose buried in his rider’s auburn strands. Hiccup mumbled something unintelligible and turned his head to press against the scaly snout before settling again.

Gobber regarded the peaceful pair for a few minutes. The Night Fury was so quiet and still, he couldn’t tell if he’d gone to sleep as well. He shook his head and laughed, prompting one green eye to open and peer at him. “Him having a dangerous shadow really isn’t that far off, is it?.” He looked straight at the black beast, who opened both eyes and tilted his head curiously. “You, beastie, are not at all what we expected. But then, things never do happen like they should when Hiccup’s involved.” He smiled at the small form under the covers. “And sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”

Toothless looked down at Hiccup as well, and purred in agreement. Gobber jabbed a finger at him, regaining his attention. “This means it’ll be your job to make sure he doesn’t go and blow himself up again.”

The dragon huffed, offended.

Gobber crooked a grin. “Yeah, you would already know that. He’s very good at it, after all.”

There was a snort of amusement. Toothless laid his head down again and curled closer to his rider. A great black wing unfolded and laid itself across the boy like a blanket.

The blacksmith sized up the asymmetrical tail with its lonely fin. He remembered another part of Hiccup’s sketches and came to a decision. Turning away from the friends snuggled together on the bed, he muttered to himself, “Suppose Stoick’ll have to wait a few more days on that leg. After all, it’s not every week I have to put together a matched set for two amputees.” He limped outside and blinked down at the path before him.

It had never seemed brighter.

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jemwolf · 5 years ago

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Alright, y'all asked for it so here's my essay.

Before I start this off I want to say this is in no way meant to attack those who enjoy the sequels! I'm really happy for you if you do! This is just my personal analysis and you can feel free to ignore or disagree with me, but please don't come at me saying I hate the movies or anything, these are just things I noticed personally and my stance on then isn't going to change.

(Also to those who stated it in the replies, of course I don't blame Toothless for this; he had no say in it. He is, after all (and unfortunately), a fictional character!)

Gonna put this under a read more 'cause it got kinda long.

I'm gonna start with appearance. In the first movie, Toothless is very streamlined and rounded and smooth. In the movies following, he's more blocky and square in appearance, stands more upright, and has much more prominently humanized features.

This is shown very nicely in this little study done by Floranse.exe/floranse33 on Instagram:

Why was this design change done? My guess is that it was made to further anthropomorphize Toothless. He's now got these very prominent eyebrow... ridge.... things??? That were barely or not at all present in the first film. These give him a wider range of expression, which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but the design from the first movie is already so expressive without sacrificing the fact that dragons are, in fact, wild animals.

I honestly have no clue about the more blocky look of his design, except maybe to up the cute factor of him, and make him more dog-like by design. His eyes are rounder and closer together, pupils bigger, and nose smaller. Again, "cuter".

Also (and this irks me to no end because I cannot for the life of me figure out why they did it) they more or less got rid of the ball python styled markings he had in the first film (and TV series!) They lightened his overall palette to more of a dark gray instead of a deep charcoal-black color. To make him look friendlier, I guess??

"But Jai, what does it matter what he looks like, it's still Toothless!"

I would agree with that, except that these new design elements go hand in hand with how they portrayed Toothless' personality, and that's where things get frustrating.

In the first film, Toothless (and the rest of the dragons) were portrayed as animals. Dragons are wild animals, intelligent, yes, but feral animals all the same. This was written and shown very well with Toothless. He had his own mannerisms and quirks that were reminiscent of, but not identical to, various real-life animals.

A lot of these were taken from cats, dogs, birds, horses, and reptiles, and combined into something unique. He worked with Hiccup and was intelligent enough to understand what he wanted (and could seemingly understand at least some human speech) but it wasn't overly anthropomorphized.

The second movie... wasn't too terrible with that but... there are a few things that rub me the wrong way.

Toothless' posture is more upright by default; he kept his head raised a lot more in the sequels, instead of his default posture from the first movie which was lower to the ground and more catlike, reptilian, and feral.

Then we get that scene where Valka shows Hiccup that trick with Toothy's spines. It's cute, sure, but how on Earth would Toothless not know he can do that? That seems like something that would be instinctual. This became a running theme, especially in The Hidden World.

The third film. Toothless has been completely reduced to a hyper-intelligent (but only when necessary) giant, scaley dog. He's a dog. He plays fetch. He seems to completely understand human speech. He can actually draw for some reason??? Like, he drew an actual picture??? Again, he's a wild animal which brings me to my next point.

Animals, even domesticated ones, instinctively know how to court a mate. Nevermind the fact that Toothless was a solitary wild dragon for the majority of his life (he's only been with Hiccup for five years, and it's said that they're the same age, but it's never explained if that's like, comparatively or literal but still.) There is no reason at all that Toothless wouldn't have just known how to court/woo the Light Fury. That whole "oh look how silly he doesn't know how to flirt" was 100% human behavior and was only there for the laughs.

To add to this; Toothless' lightning powers? Again, how would he not instinctively know this was something he could do? Yes, dragons are portrayed as intelligent animals, but even still, natural abilities (like that's implied to be) should be instinctive behaviors, not learned.

I'm not going to touch on the Light Fury or how the movie ended because that's not what this post is about and it's already long enough anyways. (But you'd better believe I have thoughts on both.)

By changing Toothless in this way, I feel it kind of undermines the tone and message of the first film. In HTTYD, Hiccup learned that these wild animals were not attacking their village just for fun, they literally had to to survive. The sequels kinda go, "These aren't wild animals they're big dogs why would dragons ever attack unless literally mind-controlled by an evil human?" (I'm also not going to delve into how HTTYD was a Man vs. Nature movie and that was really cool and unique but then both sequels were Man vs. Man)

In conclusion, yes, this is technically my opinion, but I've just been stewing on it for far too long. HTTYD has been my all-time favorite movie since it came out, and I was honestly a bit bummed out by the sequels. Visually, absolutely stunning, gorgeous movies, but something was lacking, and I really think that what they did to Toothless (and the rest of the characters but this essay is focusing on him) was a big part of it.

Again, if you enjoyed the movies, great! I'm so glad you did and I honestly hope you loved them! This is just my two cents and you can elect to ignore it if you wish.

tl;dr In the span of three movies, Toothless was simultaneously anthropomorphized and reduced to a big scaley dog.

Hello friends I'm in the mood to talk about Toothless and how drastically his appearance and personality changed between the movies and why it kinda messed up the entire point of the first movie in this essay I will

#httyd #how to train your dragon #Toothless #analysis #jemwolf talks #sfw

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ezatluba · 6 years ago

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WHY IS LIL BUB SUCH A FAMOUS CAT? IT'S IN HER BLOOD. LITERALLY

LIKE MOST PEOPLE, Daniel Ibrahim remembers exactly where he was the first time he came across a tiny, bug-eyed, toothless, limp-tongued cat called Lil Bub, the internet-breaking Queen of Cute. It was September 2014, during a mild night in Berlin, when the molecular geneticist found himself watching a Vice documentary on social media-famous felines by the blue light of his computer. But unlike most people, Ibrahim’s next move wasn’t to buy a Lil Bub shirt or join the ranks of her 2.1 million Instagram followers.

First thing the next morning he bounded over to the office of his fellow Max Plank Institute postdoc Dario Lupianez, who now heads a lab at the Berlin Institute for Medical Systems Biology. “You’ve got to see this,” Ibrahim told him, pulling up the video. Specifically, the part where Lil Bub’s veterinarian examines her X-rays and points to her dense leg bones, curving bizarrely like the contour of an Erlenmeyer flask. They looked exactly like a human case of osteopetrosis—a rare genetic limb malformation disorder that the pair of scientists were studying. “We should really sequence this cat,” said Lupianez.

Now nearly five years later, with the help of a successful crowdfunding campaign, an international feline genome consortium, and Lil Bub’s “dude,” Mike Bridavsky, they finally have. In her internet-royal blood the scientists uncovered two genetic abnormalities that help explain her signature squee-ness—extra toes, short stature, wonky gait, and a tongue that is forever lolling out of her mouth. Their discovery, which they posted on the preprint server bioRxiv in February, is not only helping Bridavsky care for Lil Bub as she ages, it could one day aid doctors in better treating human patients of osteopetrosis. And just as Bub blazed a trail for viral cat celebrity, by having her DNA sequenced she is once again leading the way, only this time toward precision veterinary medicine.

It didn’t take long for Ibrahim and Lupianez to track down an email address for Bridavsky, who had adopted Bub—the runt of a litter found orphaned in a tool shed outside of Bloomington, Indiana—when she was just a kitten. But it took the scientists a few weeks to figure out how exactly to ask him what was on their minds. They wrote draft after agonizing draft before finally hitting send from Lupianez’s computer. Ibrahim had not yet finished walking the corridor back to the lab before they got a reply.

“I was like, absolutely yes,” says Bridavsky, recalling the exchange. “I’ve always thought that Bub was magical, and what’s magic but everything that hasn’t yet been explained by science?”

At her next vet appointment, Bridavsky had some of Bub’s blood drawn and sent to Berlin, where it went into a freezer until the scientists could figure out how to pay for their DNA sequencing project. It didn’t exactly fit the mold of conventional research grants. The idea to crowdfund the endeavor came a few months later, over beers with a University of Pennsylvania molecular biologist named Orsolya Symmons, who quickly joined the project. “We figured if we were so curious, other people around the world might also want to know this as well,” she says. They raised more than $8,000 from 250 people in a matter of weeks. Piecing together the puzzle of Bub would take the next four years.

In human cases of genetic disease, tracking down a rare mutation often works like this: You sequence the patient and then you sequence their parents. If both parents are healthy, you can rule out any overlapping stretches of DNA that they share with their child. That wasn’t an option with Bub. “We didn’t have any information about her parents or their DNA or anything, nothing at all," Lupianez says. So they compared her genetic material to a completely unrelated cat named Cinnamon, the first feline to have its genome decoded. By using her as a reference they could begin to map out Bub’s unique sequence and figure out what it all meant.

It was grueling work. The two cats had single-letter differences between their DNA in 6 million places. That meant there were 6 million places to look for the mutations causing Bub’s singular physical traits. To narrow the search they looked first at genes known to be associated with some of them—including her extra toes and osteopetrosis. In a gene called Sonic hedgehog they found a mutation only present in a Key West colony of six-toed cats descended from Ernest Hemingway’s personal pets. Which means Bub probably comes from that long line of famous felines.

To find the cause of Bub’s osteopetrosis, the scientists looked at about 120 genes known to be associated with abnormal bone growth in humans. In one of them, called RANK, Bub had a single letter deletion never before seen in any mammal. Ibrahim and Lupianez pored over the literature and found a mouse with a similar (but not identical) mutation in the same gene. In X-rays, its limbs looked just like Lil Bub’s, only smaller. “This is in science what we call the eureka moment,” Lupianez says. “We needed to pinch ourselves to see if this was really happening.”

To make sure what they were seeing was real, they compared Lil Bub’s DNA to a stockpile of 131 cat genomes, compiled by the 99 Lives consortium—the world’s largest feline DNA database. None of those cats had Bub’s RANK mutation. Leslie Lyons, who started 99 Lives at the University of Missouri in 2014, says that Bub’s DNA is likely to help doctors better identify and treat patients of osteopetrosis. But more than that, she’s hoping it will inspire more cat owners to get their animals sequenced.

“There’s just so much we still don’t know about cats,” she says. Compared to dogs, which have been sequenced to verify their pure pedigrees and for biomedical research purposes because they get cancer at similar rates to humans (cats don’t), feline DNA is starkly underrepresented. That means there’s just a lot less scientists know about cat health and fewer treatments to cure what ails them. Lyons hopes to change that. “The long-term goal is to help save cats, either by setting up genetic tests for breeders to avoid passing on serious diseases or to do precision medicine in the clinic itself.”

Perhaps Lil Bub’s magic will help make that a reality one day. For Bridavsky, having genetic knowledge of his favorite feline has mostly provided him with a sense of security. Bub’s mutation, it turns out, causes one of the least severe forms of osteopetrosis. Which means that her strange bone growth has slowed, probably even stopped. Birdavsky doesn’t have to worry about it getting worse as she gets older. (In other forms of the disease, the persistent bone deformities often lead to early deaths.) “Right now gene sequencing is kind of a fun, schticky thing,” he says. “But it would be cool to see it transition to being valuable for the health of the pet. I’d be honored for Bub to be the poster cat for that.”

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