#female!hiccup

[howtodrawyourdragon]

A late piece for AU-gust 2024's Day 1 "Canon Divergence." A late piece because I really wanted to come up with something for that day and I just could not come up with anything until I had the brilliant idea to genderbend the blorbo of our shows.

Her hair is a mess because she's Hiccup and she just spend some time either flying or wrestling with Toothless, probably.

Is she looking guilty? Worried? Did she get caught with her dragon? Perhaps!

-XOXOX-

Please do not repost or misuse my art.

AU-gust card and gradient layerless version below.

[northernbluetongue]

Found this AMAZING Fanart because of this AO3 fic

Heika Haddock's fit, before I forget I'm supposed to write her wearing this shi.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

would love to request a "friends to lovers" story between Hiccup and the reader.

They could have been friends since childhood, but I’m not sure what you think about the idea where, as they grow up, it becomes completely normal for them to hold hands or even share more intimate moments, like a kiss. (Don’t let it show how much I love this dynamic).

I’d love to see how you would develop this story (only if you feel like it, of course). I seriously ADORE your writing! Blessings and kisses, MUAK! ❤💗

One of These Days

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,740

You didn’t know when it started; maybe it had been when he’d smiled at you for the first time, or he’d held your hand, or leaned his head over yours. 

Tags:  httyd 1, httyd 2, friends to lovers

It was growing darker outside. 

Frigid air licked at the frame of your back, slithering and scraping past cracks in the walls and shutters. It tasted just as cool as it smelt.

You didn’t know when it started, nor were you sure how to feel about it, what with that odd thing sitting between the two of you. You could tell he expected something, what with the way he often shuffled closer than was necessary and fumbled over his own words in an effort to impress.

“Pass me the hammer?” He asked you without looking, lanky shoulders square, hands pressed against parchment, fingers sliding absentmindedly over scrawled-out charcoal and past thick-handled tools.

You snuffled, blinking from where you sat just beside him.

It was just to the right of you on one slightly uneven workbench, closer to the forge’s main window than away. You grabbed at it with slightly wobbly fingers, grimacing as it nearly fell from your hands.

At twelve winters, you still had some time left before you’d really be expected to bloody your hands, and by bloody your hands, you meant to be able to take down a full-grown dragon on your own.’ Of course, most children by now had done their fair share of slaughtering, both animals and otherwise, but none had been able to make it during a raid without help. While you hadn’t done any of it, putting you sorely behind, you were still fine.

For Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast, feared dragon-killer, the deadlines were a little bit tighter.

You placed the hammer firmly, determinedly into Hiccup’s open palm, the tips of your fingers dragging against slightly sweaty skin.

Gobber had been generous enough to let you in. He didn’t often or ever stop the two of you from doing things. Even still, this was the first time you’d been invited into the forge, and he hadn’t said anything.

Hiccup had also been generous enough to invite you in. You hadn’t quite recognized the invitation for what it was, nor did you think Hiccup did, either. Really, the experience was proving to be rather close. It was the first time you’d ever seen him so enraptured in his work, though, to be fair, you hadn’t known him for long. He’d hardly talked about it.

You doubted he’d told anyone else- it was going to be a larger machine. He definitely didn’t have everything he needed to make it. Not the wood, which would make up a frame large enough to swarf half your body, or all the metals and ores he’d need to make all the levers and rods.

He wasn’t wearing any fur coat, just an apron and his green tunic. He scribbled notes down like the world might be swallowed if he didn’t. You could tell he’d never done that before- made such detailed instructions, thought up such an elaborate contraction.

You liked him happy. You’d seen him frustrated and you thought that was alright too, puzzling over his own work, tongue peeking out slightly from between two teeth, not comically. It was more a subtle, awkward thing.

With his back to you, he worked with a dedicated, single-minded focus, almost tireless. He worked from the moment he sat down to the moment he finished his task with a passion usually only meant for the battlefield, spotted in the eyes of the hungry past floating ashes and spraying gore. It was a passion that said that nothing had ever come natural to him.

He taught himself how to try.

You thought that he must be daring, more than any Viking warrior.

Maybe he wasn’t yet a man, but you could see the shadow of the man he would be-mature, confident, skilled, focused. The way he worked in the forge- his need to shoot down a dragon paled in comparison.

You wondered if anyone else would ever get to see him the way you did, red-and-orange firelight warming his cheeks.

He caught you looking and he smiled, something almost half-toothless and completely crooked, revealing brown-auburn hair made to glow in the light of the fires, spotted gaps in rows of teeth, freckles dusting over a nose’s bridge like speckles on bird’s feathers.

He spoke almost hesitantly, confusedly, as if he’d just realized he’d forgotten to respond, and hadn’t realized it was that important, or that you would have been expecting it, though that didn’t matter to you, because he’d hardly needed to, “Thanks.”

Even unsure, he was much more at home here than out in the open world.

You felt your head perk, shoulders dropping as a soft, gawky thing curled and writhed bashfully in your stomach, not unlike the way a worm reveled in soft, blooming dirt.

Wow.

It hadn’t occurred to you that during all of a fortnight, you hadn’t seen him smile. Now that you’d seen it, you weren’t sure how you’d ever lived without it. 

You thought you could feel the heat radiating from his body as you shuffled closer to him, your fingers curling around his bicep, slightly damp through thick cloth. Your legs were nearly brushing then, leather smock teasing against cloth trouser as you pondered what it might feel like to be handed back soft, honeyed flowers by those very same sooted hands.

You shifted, the grass beneath you wet, dew clinging to the sides of your skirt like a few shiny glass beads. You felt the warm sun against your face, tickling against small hairs and soft skin. Your journal was to your front, scratched up leather cover pressed to your hands, a charcoal stick laying abandoned across empty parchment.

Nearby was a trickling stream, water weaving past water, spraying hollowly against rocks and moss- you could have likened it to yourself and the feeling in your soul, knotting up your chest and mixing up all kinds of squishy insides.

The last you’d seen, Hiccup had been walking. Now, he was nearly falling over himself, legs jerking as his saddle’s straps and reins restricted the movement of his ankles. His shouts echoed around the whole cove, sound bouncing off cold, stone-basin walls.

His dragon slunk off in the distance, still apprehensive and avoidant. It hadn’t quite gotten used to you yet, which was fine, because you were alright with keeping your distance.

Even after you’d had your hand on its slightly-sticky snout, whenever you saw it, you thought of wide, razor-sharp maws and torsos torn from small bodies. A dragon was always going to be a dragon and they were very much deadly creatures- his reassurances of the fact that the Night Fury was just as harmless as any man did you no favors. After all, the only creatures as deadly as a dragon were, in fact, bears… and men. It made you nervous.

It had large, slitted serpent’s eyes, though its scales were flatter and its skin more leathery than warted or slimy as you’d expected from such a fearsome beast. Its face was oddly symmetrical and squat in an abhorrently off-putting way, its horns or fins or whatever else that came sproutings from its skull sort of floppy and bashful and sort of too-big and not-grown-into-yet, just like it’s bulky, soft-looking paws, sort of like Hiccup.

“T-Toothless!” Hiccup practically yowled, distressed and scolding as he fell over, face-planting into dirt and short grass, half helped-along by the wet nose of his dragon. The difference- you felt almost enraptured by it.

He was awful and very often sort of standoffish and sarcastic though not often crude. He was picky and sort of insensitive and he often trampled over boundaries like he was dancing hand-in-hand with trouble, except he didn’t know how to dance, and the hall’s fires hadn’t been lit in a while- not for a celebration, at the very least. 

In that moment, though, you remembered the way it felt to have his folded knuckle digging slightly into your shoulders as he nudged against you distractedly,  just out of view behind the wooden barricade as he was scolded by Gobber. There was something about it that you thought might be either meaningful or accidental that turned over something in your stomach, most particularly because -and not in spite of- the fact that it had come from such a scrawny, lanky, often very, very clumsy-footed boy. 

The way he’d seemed, looking off reminded you of his father a little bit. You saw it, really- all the good and awful parts of the Chief that he’d most definitely inherited, even when most others couldn’t see it. You were scared of it somewhat; of how confident it made him, how distracted and sort of brave-like he could be, even if it only ever ended up making things work for the worst.

Past all your yearning, aching, wanting, and needing-to-have-ings, it scared you just as much as you thought you could watch forever. Did he ever feel the same way about you?

You hadn’t noticed as Hiccup had untangled himself from his trappings. He must have though, and quickly, as during the time you’d spent thinking, he’d walked up close enough to you to cast a long shadow over your face, pulling you out of your own reverie. 

You blinked aimlessly as he settled down next to you. You spoke hesitantly, “So, uhm, how did the saddle…?”

“He didn’t let me put it on.” Hiccup grumbled petulantly. While nothing more or less than sort of scrawny, with the way you were slumping and the way he was sitting with his back straight, he looked sort of tall. It did nothing to erase the pout from his face or the nasal from his voice.

You started, squeaking as his dragon -for the dragon was most definitely his, now- stepped out from the shadows, melded to its back like a fresh set of armor as it stalked its way around the clearing, eternally predatory. 

Hiccup seemed to relax some as you leaned against him, sort of using his shoulder as a shield, scooting behind it as the Night Fury grew closer. You felt particularly offended, even as he let you drape his arm over your middle, leaving his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. Protect me!

“Wow. What did I do?” Hiccup asked, half-smiling, shifting where he sat, unintentionally pressing your shoulder into slightly jagged rock as he got comfortable.

Sometimes you caught him looking, eyes agonizingly blank though the rest of his expression looked to be somewhat soft, the corners of his mouth pressing into a sweeter-looking half-smile. 

You grumbled incomprehensibly as you felt yourself once again eclipsed by shadow, much bigger this time. 

You leaned harder against his shoulder, one hand coming to tangle in his sleeve. You eyed it apprehensively, feeling thin twine catch against the place nail met skin. He didn’t get it.

“Don’t leave me behind.” You said suddenly, abruptly. “Ever.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, freckles and thin fingers easily losing themselves under the mop of your hair.

“I-ah, yeah, okay.” Hiccup said, brows crinkled, slight confusion evident in his voice, though it didn’t seem any less calm or comfortable for it. He especially didn’t seem to mind as you clung closer to him, something in his face glowing a blotchy, raw pink. “Alright.”

You were in danger. Really, if enjoyment was all he could bother to feel for your predicament, then you took back all of your praises.

You scoffed miffed-ly at a brown, quirked, knowing brow. The devil- He was such a boy. 

It didn’t matter what configuration of the face you had or your height or size of hair color. That wasn’t what he thought of when he thought of you, at least not at first. 

He looked back at you, sitting in the grass, leaning behind him and he couldn’t help but to think about how pretty your smile was, the way the sun lay over the side of your face and made you look as if you were glowing. Something in his neck twinged as he did, probably sprung or pulled earlier while he was trying to wrestle the saddle onto Toothless.

You were smart- a lot smarter than him on a lot of fronts, though he was pretty ingenious on his own, something anyone, even you, was hard-pressed to match.

Now, he realized, you were just as squirrely as you were cynical.

He’d never really thought of you as someone that needed shielding. You were just as capable and incapable as him in equal measure… mostly. But  in that moment, the realization came to him that maybe you… wanted to be?

He looked at you as you muttered something foul under your breath, feeling the same way he did trying to figure out a puzzle and the same way he felt piecing axles, barrels, ropes and wheels together to make up something interesting.

There really wasn’t much else to it, was there?

Really, if that was what you wanted, Hiccup was anyone but the right man for the job, but, well, if you wanted him… Hiccup winced as you dug your nails into his arm, leaving what was probably a deep set of crescent-shaped imprints in his arm, even through his tunic.

Yeah, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“It’s cold,” You mumbled absentmindedly, eyes shutting some as a breeze brushed over your cheeks and past your ears. 

You were right. It was chilly, of course, so high up in the watchtower. It was only your second time up there.

“Yeah…” Hiccup said, leaning closer to the fire.

The two of you bumped shoulders, using a spare piece of kindling like a chair. Your ankles were hooked together, tied like a knot in a rope. The sides of your legs were so closely pressed together that they were nearly flush, despite the fact that no one else was there besides the two of you, everyone else having long since packed up their things and left. He wasn’t sure what they’d talked about. He couldn’t remember.

Hiccup kept his eyes exactly where he shouldn’t, watching you.

Your eyes were half-lidded. You leaned over your knees more than not as you turned over a small, split spit, a chunk of lamb speared over one end, his fur coat draped over your shoulders, one hand clutching at the opposite, empty sleeve. You looked very pretty like that, contented.

“They’ve got to add some walls up here, you know,” You said, your head tilting upwards as you examined a particularly soft bit of meat, thumb sliding up your skewer as you tilted it slightly downwards. 

Wow. Hiccup’s eyes were half-lidded, even as he poked at the fires with a stick, nudging the ends of charred logs closer to the fire half-heartedly.

He could hold you by the waist and sway with you and touch your foreheads together and you could play-wrestle and fight in the grass but he couldn’t kiss you and tug his hands through your hair unless he was braiding it and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to or have to but now that he knew he could, he thought about it pretty often. He was a teenage boy and you were a teenage girl and he’d always been curious, so of course he’d considered it.

He needed to. He had for years with all the force of a child who’d just learned how to dream. It was- It was… The feeling was surprisingly moral, but no less impassioned.

“One of these days…” HIccup mumbled distractedly. 

One of these days. He thought that every morning, now.

Hiccup blinked, the two of you standing in front of each other, curling your fingers around each other, with your fingers still relaxed. It was comfortable, warm… easy. He turned it over in his head, again and again. 

The cheering of the arena was nearly deafening to his back, the sound of metal weapons crashing against cage bars grating to his ears. They wanted him, blood, the Nightmare… Astrid was waiting behind you, eyes burning holes into him with all the conflicted feelings of a lost warrior. Even past all that, it wasn’t hard, he found, to focus on you; the lines of your face, the soft and hard curves, each and every blemish and soft patch of skin.

Huh. He thought.

He leaned forward and pressed his face against your bowed head, your forehead touching his shoulder dully past thick brown furs. He felt the split of your hairline against the tip of his nose. His eyes were closed tightly shut.

He reveled in the feeling for the moment, taking in the way your hair felt against his cheeks and the way the leftover grasses and burnt wood and juniper left a scent that laid thick over your scalp, both dusty and spiced, a lot like pine.

Ultimately, he was doing this for Toothless, but now, today, he thought that he might be doing it a little for you, too.

The whistling of Toothless' -no, the Fury’s- wings nearly stunned him, loud enough to make it more difficult to think.

Hiccup nearly choked on wind as he gripped onto the handles he’d built into Toothless’ saddle. For a moment, he thought they wouldn’t hold. After all, one small strap of leather was nearly nothing against the full force of the Gods’ cursed offspring.

They had never gone this fast before, his body felt hollow, both as if he was being nailed to the back of his dragon and as if he might just float off at any moment. The feeling It made him cautious just as much as he was focused.

Even past all of that, the space to his back felt abhorrently empty, and not just because of the way they pierced through the sky. Your tears staining the back of his shirt as he and Toothless dived and shot… He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you cry before. He still hadn’t- it was silent for the most part, and he’d just felt it, really. If he ever had, it hadn’t been like this.

He couldn’t bring you up with him. He couldn’t. Just as he’d almost died in the ring, you had too.

It wasn’t merely a roar, more of a phenomenon, something that shook even the air around him. It was all-consuming and nearly inescapable. The Queen had followed.

Hiccup furrowed his brows and kept urging his dragon upwards.

Rain beat heavily against the roof of the Chief’s hut, making the world around you feel even more cold, weak and hollow. Thunder roared violently outside as the storm raged on.

“Hiccup,” You choked on air and spit and half a sob as you stared down at a sickly, freckled face, sweat running down both too-pale and blotchy red cheeks, staining his shirt dark. Freshly-changed bandages bled a deep crimson, changing with the color of hot blood and foul puss as his knees, one foot-less and the other not, jerked reflexively against the sheets of his blanket.

He’d been consistently out between long bouts of delirium and fever, his eyes rolling beneath his lids, just barely visible under the flickering light of a single, dying candle, twitching viciously. You clutched at Hiccup’s slick palm with both hands as he fitfully fought his way past conscious dreams.

You’d stayed- you’d stayed all night and day.

If dedication had ever really meant anything, if worship and hope and work had ever really meant a damn, if the Gods had ever been real and if their decree had ever meant anything, you hoped your will reached the heavens.

“Lass,” The Chief rumbled deeply from behind you, his heavy weight causing old floorboards to creak deeply as he shifted. 

You didn’t even have the energy to shake off the nearly unbearable heat of his father’s palm on your shoulder as you cried yourself nearly sick with tears and snot and spit gathering at every orifice. It was an ugly cry, an undignified, ungainly one, followed with all your fears and hopes and despairs.

You had your own injuries to tend to, yet you felt as if you couldn’t, not in that moment, not even if it meant that you’d have to be fighting off your own pains and fevers later, if you hadn’t already fallen under their grasp. The only thing you could do was watch and feel a need for Hiccup to be okay so deep it rendered you helpless. Ultimately, though, you knew his recovery had nothing to do with you.  

Hiccup’s dragon had left to cauterwal outside, to wail and wreak havoc and feast on the latest fisherman’s catch. He seemed less worried than you and the Chief but more worried than everyone else, and rightly so.

Suddenly, you started.

With a voice both intensely raspy and wet, Hiccup mumbled your name. It hadn’t been anything special, more a simple expression of his recognition, yet you sniveled as Hiccup clutched back at your hand, his grip weak compared to yours, his eyes dull with the force of his fever. For a very long moment, he held it.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

The Chief’s hand tightened over your shoulder, squeezing already stiff and sore muscles.

The last time you’d seen his eyes, he’d been staring you in the face, mouth opening and closing pointedly and yet no words had come out. He’d dropped you then, right before rushing up into the sky on Toothless’ back.

Parts of you had been pinned by the rubble after and you had nearly been left behind. You could barely think past the pain, yet you still remembered how it felt to be left on the ground, hands clutched to your chest, mind completely fogged with pain and fear, hoping and hoping and hoping, cringing and in pain as the sky flashed. The terrifying outline of the dragon queen in the sky, smoke and fog larger than life, everyone certain Hiccup was going to die, himself most certainly… It seared a painful picture into your mind.

Part of you had been in danger, then. You weren’t anymore. Now, you really loved Hiccup Haddock, and you needed him to be okay.

He hoped you were safe. He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.

He couldn’t ever let you go. Never. Not until- Not unless he died, even if it hurt and his forehead felt weighted with the pressure of all the world’s fires.

[midnight-xx]

hello can you do a hiccup x reader one where reader has a whole night fury army with her in httyd 2 or 3 🥰

Ofc I can!! 🫶🫶 I love writing for Hiccup

ESCAPE

Pairing: Hiccup x Fem!reader

Timeline: HTTYD 3, the fight against Grimmel

Synopsis: You save the day with the help of your personal “army”

TW: Blood + injuries, mentions of weapons

Also (Name) doesn’t show up until a little bit later

—

—

Hiccup backed up against the wall of the ship, clutching his abdomen. He groaned in pain as he applied pressure to the wound, blood seeping through his armor.

“It seems like you’ve lost, Hiccup. Give the night fury up to me,” Grimmel commanded.

“I’d rather die,” Hiccup spat.

Grimmel hummed dismissively. “Then you will die.” He raised his weapon above his head, and the smaller man turned away and shut his eyes.

The clang of a sword and no impact influenced Hiccup to open his eyes. Snotlout stood in front of him, along with Tuffnut. The pair shoved him away from the barely awake young man.

“Stay with me, man,” Tuffnut rasped.

“Yeah dude, don’t die on us!” Snotlout added as he faced down with Grimmel.

“I’ll be fine, Tuffnut. Go help Snotlout,” Hiccup said. He attempted to stand up, but curled into himself as he coughed uo blood.

“Dude, you’re not okay,” Tuffnut asserted. He called for someone else as he begged Hiccup to open his eyes.

Hiccup’s last coherent thought was I never got to ask her to…

A deafening screech echoed on the water, and Grimmel looked up from his battle with Snotlout, only to shrink back as the late evening sky became dotted with Night Furies. However, the one that stood out was the girl on the Night Fury in front of the army.

(Name) signaled with her hand, bringing it down in a chopping motion. Plasma blasts flew like comets towards the fleet of ships. Panicked screams overlapped one another as fire spread across the ships.

“Hiccup!” (Name) screamed as she clambered off of her dragon and ran towards the aforementioned man.

“Wake up!” She slapped him, and the brunette woke up with a start.

“Agh- huh?” Hiccup groaned, using what little remaining energy he had to rub his cheek.

“You scared me! I thought you died!” (Name) shook the man as he spoke, and he became dizzy from blood loss and the rapid motions.

“S…stop” The brunette coughed.

“Sorry, Hiccup” You apologized.

“Let’s get you home,” The woman hoisted the chieftain into her arms and draped him across her dragon’s back.

—

links

ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ

@toydynesianimation13

[fandomnerd9602]

Hicca and Y/N stand together among the falling snow…

Y/N kisses her cheek…

Y/N: happy winter solstice my love

Hicca: (giggles) same to you. Where are Toothless and Snowstorm?

They hear dragon purrs coming from Hicca’s hut…

The two venture in to find said dragons attending to little dragon eggs…

Hicca: and when were you two gonna tell us?!

Toothless shrugs shyly as Snowstorm purrs happily…

Hicca and Y/N share a hug and kiss, happy for their dragons…

[northernbluetongue]

🐉🐉🐉

New reference sheets for myself of my precious baby

I was bored and wanted to draw her with all the details I usually imagine her with but are too lazy to draw, but now I love this and also made myself a few brushes to make all the details easier so, I might just start always drawing her this way

Also now I want to do a few short animations of how all her weapons work, specially how she uses the Gronckle bombs and the sword with the lighter

[eryngiiz]

Toothless art practice

[sk-yay-sk]

Honestly, my only real complaint about HTTYD 1 is that Astrid, who is very strong physically and a combatant and the model Viking(-in training), has the same body type as Hiccup, whose physical weakness and small size are part of the reason why he's outcast and, well, a hiccup; not a proper, model Viking.

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Chapter One: A Lightfury’s Guide to Stealing A Dragon Rider

Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fem!oc

Word count: 3.1k

Chapter Summary: When a destroyed fleet of dragon hunter ships wash up at Dragon’s Edge, with all that is left behind are white scales and scorch marks, it leaves some questions to be raised within the dragon riders and what could have caused this. On the other side of the archipelago, a girl that appears and disappears at Northern Markets makes her presence known, planning to stick around until the heat calms down.

Overall Summary: A mysterious new dragon rider has been starting to make their presence known by tearing through dragon hunter ships and leaving nothing in their wake. What dragon they ride is unknown. What they look like is unknown. Why they are hunting the dragon hunters is unknown. The only thing that is known is that they will stop at nothing to destroy every dragon hunter ship at any cost.

N/A: Make sure you check out the prologue for this series! I feel like near the end of the chapter it sort of goes off the rails a bit. Hope you enjoy :D

*Art and gif is not mine.

Hiccup started his day like any other; waking up relatively early–at least earlier than the twins or Snotlout–and getting Toothless for a morning flight, usually to be met with Astrid as she finishes her rounds of the island, insisting she does a sweep of the island to make sure no hunters had found their way onto the beaches.

Toothless was already awake and bounding around Hiccup’s hut. His teeth were retracted as he watched Hiccup stir awake.

Not waiting for his rider to fully wake, Toothless jumped onto the bed, shaking it as Hiccup startled awake, trying to sit upright only to knock his head into Toothless’ snout. A disgruntled groan left the dragon at the contact.

“Sorry bud,” Hiccup began to say, cutting himself off as the grumbled scorn from Toothless. “What's got you so rowdy this morning?”

A gargling noise rang out from Toothless, flashing his gums before hopping off of Hiccup and his bed before jumping towards the hut’s door, large steps shaking the wooden beams the hut is balanced on. With the rustling from behind, Toothless looked back with a toothless smile to find Hiccup slowly awaking from bed, getting ready for the day on the Edge ahead of him.

“Alright bud, I’m on my way. Don’t worry,” Hiccup muttered with a yawn as he paced after the Nightfury. A steady hand landed on Toothless’ head, pushing him back a few paces so he could push open the door. The sun had started to rise by now, nearly set high enough to commence breakfast. Toothless raced forward, bumping Hiccup with his tail and causing him to stumble forward, a laugh rolling in his chest. “Perfect morning for a flight, isn’t it?”

Before Toothless could rumble a reply, Stormfly came barreling up, Astrid sat on her back as she stared worriedly at Hiccup. “Hiccup, there’s something you're going to want to see,” She announced upon her arrival, causing Hiccup to stumble out of his hut a couple of steps faster.

“What is it?” He hurriedly asked, resting a hand on Toothless’s head, ready to mount his back at any given second to follow after Astrid.

“I think it would be better if you took a look for yourself,” She called out, head flicking around to look down at the docks she and the other dragon riders had built when they first started working on building the Edge.

Hiccup didn’t have to be told twice.

Before Astrid could blink, Hiccup and Toothless were already in the air and flying towards her. His eyes hadn’t yet locked on where Astrid had come from, waiting for her guidance to lead him.

The two of them were in the air for only a few seconds, a quick glide down before their dragon’s claws were touching down on the wooden planks that made up their docks. That was when Hiccup was finally able to see what had Astrid so spooked.

In front of them was a fleet of half-destroyed ships.

Each ship had a number of scorch marks that plunged through the wooden decks, the sails that had the dragon hunter crest torn to shreds. Most of the ships also had discarded weapons and helmets, left behind by the hunters that had sailed on these ships. But something stuck out on one of the ships, the largest out of the lot. There was a variety of cuts and indents in the ship, looking to be placed there by a sword or some other kind of weapon, perhaps claw marks along with a few scales white as snow scattered around the destroyed ship.

“Astrid… what do you think could have done this?” Hiccup questioned, his head whirling around to face Astrid only to find the blonde girl staring hauntedly at the ship graveyard.

“More like who.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite customer from beyond the archipelago," A middle-aged man boasts as he sees a young woman walking up to his stall in the Northern Markets, his arms spread wide and a yellowing smile. His loud comments forced many heads to turn as Sindri was one of the best weapons traders within the isle, the man always having something to please any form of customer.

A dry chuckle escapes the girl as she steps up to the stall countertop, her boots digging into the muddy floor as she rests one of her gloved hands on the counter. "You should stop spoiling me with the praises Sindri," She says with a grin, her eyes briefly scanning over the items the man had on display for the day. “Your words might start to get to my head after all.”

"Maybe I'm just trying to make sure I get into Valhalla when my time comes," He says with a booming grin, leaving his prior task behind as he walks up to the girl. "I do after all need a Valkyrie to take me there. Your ego is free to inflate as much as you wish," He comments smugly, wiggling his eyebrows at the girl as he stops in front of her.

"Just because the name Valkyrie belongs to me it doesn't mean I will be flying you anywhere in the afterlife," She chides the man loosely. "And besides, you need to die in battle to be sent there. I don't think selling these weapons counts as so," She says amused at the slight drop in the man's shoulders.

"You might be right there," The man comments, an eyebrow being raised by the girl across from him in question at the might part. "So, what can I help you with today? It's been a while since your last visit to the Northern Markets," Sindri asks, both his hands leaning on the countertop as he waits for the girl across from him's request.

Valkyrie absently looks around the stall, staring at the many weapons discarded around the wooden crates and countertops. "Do you have any more of those Hideous Zippleback exploding boxes? The ones where the gas pours out of it until it gets lit," She asked, going into explanation since she knew that wasn't the name Sindri had given her when he first sold the items to her, and that exploding boxes could be quite vague.

"Of course, I have those in stock! I make them myself, remember?" He asks, grinning wildly as he bends down to reach for something hidden in a crate. Pulling out seven rectangular-like boxes, all made from vast metals and wood. He places them on the counter just in front of the girl’s hands. "Now, Valkyrie, these are the last ones I have in stock since you keep forgetting to bring the empty ones back to me." He says with a slight scold to his words.

"So there worth a pretty penny?" Valkyrie asks, staring up at Sindri slightly sheepish and with her shoulders bunching to her ears as she raises a brow in question, both palms facing up in front of her.

"Precisely," Sindri says with a sharp nod. "Now, I'm willing to trade them off for something, but if not, I'm going to need about two bags worth," He states, his face losing most of its joy as he goes into trader mode, making sure he gets the best deal for himself.

"Two bags?" Valkyrie questions with a huff of air, picking up one of the canisters loosely. When a hum of agreement leaves Sindri, Valkyrie places it down on the countertop rather harshly. "And here I thought I was your favourite customer," She says slightly dejected, pulling out a small pouch of coins from her waist. "How about this? I give you half of this, and the next time I sail in, I'll bring you two double-edged axes?" She offers, loosening the string that was keeping the pouch sealed and flashing Sindri a toothy smile.

Sindri's eyes narrowed at the girl, one of his fists balling as he study's her for a long moment. An air of silence dragged on between the two of them before he came to his final decision. "How do I know you’re not just going to fly off and never return?" He questions with a glower, an opening statement for something further.

A fake mortified gasp escapes Valkyrie's lips as she brings her hands up, resting them on her chest. "You wound me Sindri," She states, closing her eyes like she was crying. Bringing a hand up to wipe at a nonexistent tear, she says, "And here I thought we have built some trust up over the years."

The man across from her rolled his eyes with a huff before he shook his head with a grin stretching across his face. "I’d be in safer hands while wrestling with a Nightfury than putting any trust in you. But fine, I'll take you up on that deal," He mutters. His agreement got a crooked grin slipping onto Valkyrie's face as she raised her chin slightly in accomplishment. "But if you don't return in two moons, I'll be putting a bounty on your head."

The thing with Sindri is that he totally would, which only made Valkyrie grin more. "I'll be back in three then," She said, emptying half of her coin pouch onto the countertop as she pulled another brown bag from her waist. This time the bag was empty, and a lot bigger than the last as she started to load the Hideous Zippleback gas canisters into her bag.

Sindri only looked slightly amused at her words as he tested each of the coins, roughly gauging how much each of them weighed. Valkyrie attached the bag of items back to her hip as he did this, waiting until he had finished the task and put them into his own pouch. "Is there anything else you might need before you vanish without a trace again?" He questions.

"I think this is all I need for the moment," Valkyrie says, her eyes going distant as she racks her brain for any other possible items she could need for the next following days. She couldn't picture any dire situations arising where she would have to prepare for, everything already thought out in her own mind as they had repeated this process a number of times. The only reason she was buying the Zippleback gas was because she would be going in solo and she would be dealing with a larger number the usual.

Sindri gave her a sad nod. "I'll see you next time you decide to grace the aisle with your presence." He comments, lighting up with a grin before he is turning to a new customer—or maybe it was the person he abandoned to talk to Valkyrie.

Turning away from the stall, Valkyrie begins her way back through the trading village. She kept her head high as she began to weave through the different stalls, a steady eye on anyone who decided to get too close for her liking.

A certain thing that came with the Northern Markets is that there is a large number of dragon hunters always running around getting weapons fixed or buying new custom traps to help them capture dragons that they would later sell to a select few from this very island. It never mattered how much she attempted to avoid them when on the island so she gave up long ago, accepting the fact there was no getting around it.

So when a certain hunter clad in dragon hide started to approach her, there was nothing Valkyrie could do except hide her finds and ready herself for conflict.

Keeping her head held up, she planned to walk past the man, keeping her eyes from the mace hanging at his hip where his hand was starting to itch for. But as she passed a hand shot out, fingers enclosing tightly around her upper arm. Valkyrie was instantly on the defence, a hand shooting to her hip where a broken down sword lay wrapped around her waist. With a hiss, Valkyrie spoke, “Can I help you?”

“Do I recognise ya?” The man spoke, spit flying from his mouth.

“I would hope not,” Valkyrie started. “Now, if you would be so kind as to get your filthy hand off of me, I would be glad to let you leave with all your limbs intact.”

The two stood off, neither being the first to back down. As Valkyrie’s hand slid forward, fingers wrapping around the loose handle of her broken-down sword, another hand came shooting out and wrapping around her shoulder. “Why don’t we all take it easy for a second.”

Turning to see who had spoken, Valkyrie’s eyes landed on a tall boy with auburn hair and pale green eyes. He didn’t look directly at Valkyrie, his eyes instead focused on the hunter that she had previously been threatening.

“Mind your own business boy. This doesn’t concern you,” The hunter spoke with a sneer, attempting to pull Valkyrie closer towards him but when Valkyrie didn’t budge, the hold that the boy had on her keeping her grounded, he let go.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Of course, this is between you and this helpless lady,” The boy said, releasing Valkyrie as he raises both hands in an act of surrender.

Valkyrie’s head whipped around to face the nameless boy, eyes wide with her top lip curling up. “Helpless?” Her voice rose an octave, once again her hand shooting down to where the handle of her sword rested.

The boy flashed Valkyrie a sideways glance with an almost pleading look on his face before he turned back to the hunter. “It’s just, I didn’t want to see anything break out when it was so clear that she wouldn’t be walking away as steady as she came in.”

The hunter pondered the boy’s words, face slowly starting to light up. “Aren’t you the chivalrous type?” The man huffed out before turning away, casting one last fleeting glance at Valkyrie before flashing his teeth and blending into the crowd and fleeing from Valkyrie’s sight.

Valkyrie glared at the man even long after he vanished from her sight. Only when she was sure he was gone did she turn to the nameless boy, putting an end to his stuttering responses as one of Valkyrie’s hands slammed into his chest. “I could have handled that myself,” She scorned, going in for a second shove where the boy’s hands mixed with hers, trying to deter their path. “And come on, a helpless lady who can’t fight her own battles? You couldn’t come up with a slightly more justifying cause?”

“It’s the first thing I could think of,” Came the strangled response from the boy, his grip tight as he stopped Valkyrie from pulling her hands away where she would most likely go in for another hit. “I didn’t exactly think of a plan when I came over.”

“You clearly didn’t think much if you had the bright idea to come over here in the first place,” Valkyrie snapped, tugging her hands free in a quick pull, making the unknown boy stumble and fall towards Valkyrie.

Valkyrie quickly raised her arms, bracing herself as the boy collided with her. A soft grunt escaped her lips at the close proximity of the two of them. “Uh hi?”

Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed at the boy’s words, their eyes meeting through the gaps in her arms. “Bye,” Valkyrie said in return, shoving the boy back one last time before turning on her heel, not caring for the startled yelp that came from the boy as she walked away. She told herself as she left, ready to disappear from the island and the views of the world once more, “I don’t have time for this.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” The boy called out after Valkyrie and said girl found herself gritting her teeth at the sound of hurried footsteps running after her. As the nameless boy came to her side, falling into step with her as they walked through the markets, he said, “I’m Hiccup by the way.”

“And I didn’t ask for that knowledge nor do I care for it,” Valkyrie said, earning a soft chuckle from Hiccup in return.

“Normally when someone gives you their name, there's an unspoken rule that you are meant to give it to them in return,” Hiccup said, gesturing loosely with his hands out in front of him, quickly drawing Valkyrie’s eyes to them and the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists. “And, I mean, I did kind of save you from a fight with a dragon hunter.”

“Something which I didn’t ask you to do,” Valkyrie stated. But at the sight of Hiccup's dejected face, one of his hands bounding up to scratch the back of his neck, Valkyrie find herself speaking without her conscious permission. Turning her head straight and keeping her eyes off the other boy she said, “But if you must know, my name is Valkyrie.”

“Like one of Odin’s warriors?” Hiccup quickly questioned, his face lighting up as he put two and two together.

“Yes, like Odion’s warriors,” Valkyrie muttered, shaking her head as she answered the common question aimed her way once she revealed her namesake.

“Did your parents know you would be just as fierce as a Valkyrie when choosing a name for you?” Hiccup asked another question, seeming to have several more lined up for her to answer.

“More like vicious,” Valkyrie commented. “And I think they trained it into me when I was younger. Had to look at the world as a proper Viking one way or another.”

HIccup’s thick brows furrowed but he chose not to say anything. “What brings you the Nothern Markets?” He tracked back, changing the topic quickly. Before Valkyrie could say anything, Hiccup's head swivelled to the side, something catching his attention from another stall. Valkyrie was about to use these few seconds of distraction to slip away when Hiccup's head came swirling back towards her, large green eyes staring at her expectedly.

“Originally, before I got ambushed by two Vikings?” Valkyrie questioned, hiding a smile at the sheepish look that flickered over Hiccup's face first before a stubborn fierceness took over his eyes. Valkyrie quickly cut him off before he could once again go into why he had to help. “I came here for the same reason anyone else would. To trade and gather.”

Hiccup slowly nodded his head, wringing his arms back and forth and preparing to say something before a loud bang caught both of their attention, two heads of blonde hair fleeing from the scene. “Oh Thor, not those two,” Hiccup mumbled, dragging a hand down his face before looking back to Valkyrie. “You wouldn't be willing to wait here for me, would you?”

“No promises,” Valkyrie shrugged.

“Yeah,” A soft sigh escaped Hiccup's lips. “I didn’t think so.”

Prev | Next

[eefkakiss]

༺.𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖑𝖋𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖒: 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖁 𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖋𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙.༻

..Path of Alfheim: Chapter V outfit concept..

I wanted to illustrate how I imagined the FMC dressed during the feast in chapter 5.

I'm a sucker for loose tunics and leather corsets and a lot of my original characters tend to include these items in their wardrobe.

With that being said, this version of the reader is a bit more female-presenting in comparison to the assassin version I've designed. While the fan-fiction does tag the protagonist as female I understand if someone may not, explicitly, like to show off their more feminine features. It's something that I, personally, experience from time to time.

While these character/outfit illustartions are created to my own liking and preferences I want to keep up with the more androgynous concepts since some readers relate to my designs. (Which I appreciate so much!) (シ_ _)シ

I feel like this ambiguous, grey blob (as ms. @𝖍3𝖑𝖋𝖆𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊 herself, so kindly put it) is the perfect base to use for representing the FMC and it makes it easier for others to reference. But I will, definitely, be posting more doodles/drabbles with my rendition of the protag (scars and all).

[howtodrawyourdragon]

❄️12 Days of Christmas 2024 Day 1❄️

First Snow

Summary: Set between Httyd 1 and Gift of the Night Fury. Femcup, canon divergence. Hiccup's still healing body won't stop her from watching the first snow fall before Snoggletog.

Warnings: /

Rating: General

Words: 483

Prompt: First snow, "Your hands are so cold"

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Stoick

Pairing: /

Author’s Notes: Randomly got the thought to turn this into a Femcup fic about halfway through, lol. Just because.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Hiccup has always despised the cold. She’s done so for as long as she can remember. Perhaps, that has something to do with just how cold she always is. Her father, her peers, everyone in the village can walk around sleeveless in the barbaric north, but not Hiccup. No, Hiccup needs sleeves and a fur vest. She needs some semblance of warmth wherever she goes.

So she never would’ve thought she would ever welcome the cold.

While her burns have somewhat healed by now, she’s still covered in bandages. Even so, Hiccup still wanders outside because she wanted to watch the first snow of the season. It falls down so softly, so beautifully. It’s nearly enough to distract her from the worsening burn in her lower back and legs. No matter how much they’ve been healing and scarring, her burns still scream in the cold.

Even so, she watches the snow.

Hiccup is crying before she realizes it, her pain growing worse. Toothless appears next to her and whines, he wonders if it’s such a good idea for his human to be out here and standing on her doorstep. Out of the two of them, he has healed from their battle the fastest.

“I’m okay, Bud,” Hiccup tells him, though she isn’t certain anymore if her legs can carry her inside anymore.

“Daughter,” a voice brings both of their gazes down the steps. Their home stands on the hill, where the stairs up to the Great Hall begins. Lower down the hill, Stoick stands and looks up to them.

Hiccup says nothing, worried what her father might say to see her out here. He constantly reminds her how it’s too soon for her to be outside. Though he can’t keep her in here for much longer, Snoggletog will be coming soon and she needs to celebrate it.

Stoick walks up the steps and stops before his daughter. He places his hands on her cheeks and the chill goes through her.

“Your hands are so cold,” Hiccup tells him, but she says it in a way that she almost appreciates it. It’s just distracting enough to get her attention away from her healing body.

Then they go away and her father stands at her other side to watch the first snowfall, too. There was once a chance, shortly after the Red Death, that she might’ve never seen another snowflake again. And so, they both take this moment to just watch them fall.

They watch until Hiccup trembles too much and a light dusting of white covers everything.

Unhooking his cloak, Stoick wraps it around his heir’s shoulders. It falls around her like a wave of warmth, enveloping her chilled body. Hiccup looks up to him.

“Come on, Hiccup, it’s time to go inside,” he tells her and she doesn’t fight him as her father picks her up and carries her healing body back inside.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Sheer

Summary: Written for the Kinky Things Happen Bingo and the Any Fandom Angst Bingo. Set during RttE. Dagur found something to use against Hiccup and Berk and now has her for his wife. He treats her like his.

Warnings: Dubcon, Arranged Marriage, NSFT

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1 955

Prompts: Worship (Kinky Things Happen Bingo), Arranged Marriage (Any Fandom Angst)

Fandom: How to Draw Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Dagur

Pairing: Dagcup

Author's Notes: Made a poll a couple of days back because I had this concept of a fic, but didn't know who to partner up with (female)Hiccup. The choices were Dagur, Viggo and Drago and for a long time it looked like Viggo was going to win, only for Dagur to take the win by, like, 10 out of 20 votes.

So now this exists.

Enjoy!

[your-favourite-space-girl]

Romantic Flight

Requested: yes or no

Note: it's pretty much like how to train your dragon 1, but a tiny bit different

Title: Romantic Flight

Paring: Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader

Summary: Damian found that Y/N has a pet dragon

Warning(s): there might be some spelling and grammar mistakes, the dragon is male

Song Inspired:

Keywords: Y/N-your name, D/N-dragon name, Y/D/C- your dragon color, N/N- nickname

==================

Time: 8:49 P.M || Saturday || Y/N is about to show Damian something in the enchanted Mau Forest || the Mau Forest is a dark forest with lots of lakes, ponds, mushrooms, water falls and rocks

================

”Beloved, where are you taking me?” Damian asked as Y/N dragged him through the Mau Forest. The Mau Forest is a dark, and swampy Forest, so Damian was confused why his girlfriend would like it there.

"You'll see" Y/N said while dragging Damian's hand deeper inside the Mau Forest

As they got deeper, The Mau Forest starts to look less creepy and more pretty

When they got there, the Mau Forest wasn't super dark anymore, but it was still dark but not as dark as before.

The Mau Forest was beautiful. There's no litter, or anything, just tree's, rocks, ponds, waterfalls, and mushrooms

Y/N approached a pond. The pond was more sparkly then the other ponds there

Y/N crouched on the grass near the pond and gently grabbed a weird looking shell out of the water as Damian watched

Y/N blew on the weird looking sea shell making a weird noise, sounding like a dragon roar

Y/N kept blowing the sea shell whistle and after a few minutes Damian got impatient

"Look Beloved, i know you like collecting and testing out weird stuff, but it's getting dark, and i need to go on patrol" Damian sighed while starting to walk away until he hears giant flapping wings and landing near Y/N

Damian turned back to Y/N and he's see's a giant, Y/D/C dragon and he see's Y/N feed it fish

"Y/N! Get away from that... That.... That thing!" Damian yells

"Don't worry Dames, he's friendly"

"Who is he?"

"his name is D/N"

"How exactly did you find.... Him?"

"Uhm, long story. But he's really friendly, i promise"

"uhm I'm pretty sure those creatures are NOT friendly!"

Y/N didn't answer as she gently grabbed Damian's hand and walking him up to D/N as Y/N gently and slowly places his hand on the head of D/N as Damian looked at D/N with wide eyes

"He's.... He's not biting?"

"I told you, he's friendly"

Before Damian could answer, Y/N sat on D/N's saddle

"Get on" said Y/N while motioning Damian to sit on the saddle behind her as Damian hesitated but went on

D/N starts to fly high in the sky as Y/N spoke to D/N

"D/N, be slow and steady. This is Damian's first time riding a dragon" Y/N whispers to D/N as D/N starts to fly slower and more steady as he went above the clouds

The moon was beautiful and shimmering bright as Damian looked down, he could see all of Gotham from up here, Damian looked at the clouds, some were under them, and some were next to them. It felt truly amazing.

[northernbluetongue]

🐉🐉🐉

I love seeing other people's takes on a genderbend hiccstrid but also is so weird because I've been stuck in the "fem hiccup" pit for years now, and I have very specific headcanons and ideas for her that when I see someone else's idea on it that is diferent than mine Im always like "No, that's not how it is, that's not canon" for like 2 seconds before I remember that none of this is canon so 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Anyways Hiccup is taller than Asher and you can't change my mind, and every time I see someone else's fanart with Asher being taller I imagine he's standing on a box or something like this is going on

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

I saw this edit on Pinterest..... do what you want with this but I was literally freaking out on this part. I wanted to see if it's possible to write something based off this .. *look.* Maybe the reader just constantly likes to tease Hiccup but one day he just had it and just did ... The look. I would be flabbergasted. <3

Thistle, Scout and Scottish Bluebells

Pairing: Grumpy!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2094

Things don’t happen the way they’re supposed to. The universe sends you to compensate.

Tags:  httyd 1, aged up, au, time travel

Next>

 The sounds of rustling ferns and the ends of pine trees larger than you’d ever seen them, of crackling twigs and wind whistling past fauna and over dirt made its way inside past thin wooden walls and through large cracks in between shuttered window sills and other things.

You sat, knees touching, head resting over folded arms. The chair below you was slightly wobbly, the table beneath your hands uneven.

You listened to the sound of gently sloshing water, watching as boxy, freckled hands dipped unevenly fired and sealed clay into an old, scratched bucket. One of the bucket’s handle’s hinges was broken and the metal bars holding it together were discolored in many places, scratched and dented in others.

A man crouched before the table on the side opposite to you by the door, donning a long, old worn tunic in green. It’d been torn and hastily sewn back together many, many times. That much was obvious.

“...And you have no idea how you got here.” He grumbled. He was crouched along packed dirt floors, wiping cribs and washing leftover bits of stew off your one shared plate.

He boasted a head of slightly fluffy hair, verging on auburn. It usually looked much darker, but he’d washed it recently, though ‘washing’ was a particularly strong word for whatever it was he’d done, going over it with a slightly damp cloth and ridding it of the thick oils and soot it’d worn like dressing.

“None at all.” You responded, the same way you’d been saying it for the past… However long you’d been here. The words spilled awkwardly from your mouth, tongue running over unfamiliar vowels and deeper tones.

Honestly, you missed home. You missed the convenience of a washing machine, for both dishes and otherwise. You missed the way the sun felt on your face, the way the sidewalk felt beneath your feet, the sound of people moving about, the sound of cars, the way paper felt beneath pen and the way the world sounded when it wasn’t filled with the constant sound of war, animals bleating and screaming and great, scaled beast letting out fervent death-cries and the dwindling numbers of a miserable warrior people.

“Any idea how to get you back?” Hiccup asked from the floor. He wasn’t near as quirky as he had been in the first movie, but that was just as well. He was a teen, then. He was a man, now.

“Nope!” You said, voice bordering on mischievous. As you spoke, something quite melancholy made itself known somewhere deep and sensitive. You made efforts to suppress it.

You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t sure how you’d gotten here. You were lucky, you guessed, that you’d been found by who you had been... Or maybe it was that you had been unlucky. 

You weren’t sure yet.

You thought he probably appreciated the company- or he detested it. It could go either way, really. Regardless, he never kicked you out.

“You… You’re....” He started, grumbling, “The worst.”

You heard the sound of drizzling water, watching small drops hit the bucket again as he stood, sighing.

“Says you.” You rolled your eyes. “Hiding away in the woods like a, ah, a hermit.”

“I was never this annoying.” He kept on grumbling.

The ‘he’ in question was your host. This was his shack, technically. His own miserable fortress of solitude.

You hadn’t… You hadn’t really figured out how to say his name, yet. Not in Norse. It was only the two of you here, see, which didn’t give you many opportunities to learn, even as you went romping around the village. 

It hadn’t posed a problem yet- it was mostly just the two of you, and so all you really needed to address him was ‘you.’

“You probably weren’t.” You shot back. “Maybe.”

It was mostly supposition, half based on what you saw and mostly gleaned from what little of the first movie you could remember. 

You weren't that close. You’d had maybe one or two conversations, some serious talks about life and other things that had only been half understood, at least by you. Now, whatever acquaintanceship had grown in the silence between you two as you struggled to learn more about Berk had dampened slightly as you’d begun pestering him.

You kept your arms carefully positioned over crinkled treatise, fingers gripping the edge of one splayed piece of cloth off to the side.

You were careful not to smudge the charcoal marrying each page, though your efforts were probably all for naught. Charcoal was a flakey medium, and your sticks had been perhaps left in the fires for much too long.

Perhaps too tired to say much else, he grunted and looked away, shaking his head slightly. 

You knew you were wearing his already thin patience even thinner.

“I want to shoot down a dragon.” You said, lifting your head and leaning it against your hand.

You’d been asking for a while now.

It was stupid, to keep pushing and pushing and pushing this way. You kept doing it anyway.

“Hand me the rag.” He said without looking at you, holding out one hand.

His hands were littered with scars, small and medium, from a life spent working in the forge. They dusted his knuckles, lying in wait in between and around patches of small freckles and moles and little croppings of baby hairs.

You’d never felt them either casually by accident, nor did you intend to, but still, his palms looked both rough and nice-to-the touch.

You shifted your elbows over your papers, slightly jostling your notes and resting your weight against a cleanly sealed note. The rough face of the cloth was scratchy against your thumb. “If it will lead me closer to dragon-shooting-”

“For just a moment, can you-” Your host stopped himself, gritting his teeth and looking you in the eye.

He had a nice pair of forest green eyes and tapering brows, moles and freckles scattering his cheeks. His face was slightly red from the sun, something which lasted the whole summer months, growing as the sun got brighter and staying throughout the colder nights. 

His chin was lined with a hearty dusting of fuzzy, peachy hairs.

His shoulders were set wide, mouth slightly handing open, as if to expel the force of all of his annoyance from his slitted open mouth, his head tilted downwards with a glint in his eye that might have looked menacing on any other person but only just looked a measure exasperated on him.

 He stared into your eyes, looking at you sideways for a very, very long moment. 

In that expression, you could almost see the shadow of the man he was supposed to have been; perceptive, determined, and a few other things, too.

Right now, those were the eyes of a man who knew exactly what you were doing

You kept your face resolutely blank.

“Help me shoot it.” You responded stiffly.

All in a moment, the man you saw was gone.

If you really thought about it, you might say that whatever spirit he’d once had had been killed a long time before you’d met him.

His brows were almost perpetually furrowed, his eyes weary, the lines under his eyes prominent, mouth stuck drooping. 

His shoulders were almost always dipped, too. If he wasn’t slouching, his shoulders were at a most imperceptible incline.  

While his face was not nearly wrinkled enough to be easily mistaken for the Chief, he looked a great deal older than twenty. He looked like his father- or, what you could remember of his father.

The darkness of the shack and the waning, settling light from the outside made it all look that much more severe.

“You’re not being serious.” With cinched brows, he looked at you as if to ask, ‘Are we really going to keep playing around like this?’

The answer was, ‘Yes-’ as long as the Night Fury remained in the sky and as long as your own project -the one hidden out back by his poor excuse for a well and hand-water pump- was in pieces, you felt quite obligated to keep going. 

“...No.” Your host finished, finally.

He looked down pointedly as you pulled your feet closer to you, heels just missing your chair’s legs as they came to rest before the pile of junk you’d hastily hid underneath. 

You dipped your head back towards your arms, miming bashfulness, though you didn’t feel too bad at having been caught. Stubbornly, petulantly, you continued on; “Why not?”

“Because-” He started, grimacing deeply.

You raised a brow, half expecting him to give up- to go silent.

“Because I said so.” He ended firmly, emotively.

“No.” You said, stubbornly.

“You’re- we’re doing this now?”

“As long as we need to,” You paused, “Until you help me shoot down a dragon.”

“You can just go and do it.” He snapped.

You didn’t mind it. You didn’t intend to stop, even if you drove him crazy.

You could be as crazy as you wanted here. You could run around naked, screaming in tongues and It’s not as if anyone would listen. Your words held no merit. The people were busy and you were just… not a member of society.

 You tried talking to people, once. People other than Him. They’d probably assumed you had brain damage. 

Honestly, you very well could have. When you’d woken up, your head had been aching pretty bad. 

Maybe this was all just an illusion and you really were still back in the real world, probably wandering around the streets, homeless, or locked up in a hospital or a mental facility somewhere, talking nonsense about Dragons and wanting to go home.

Wouldn’t that be a hoot?

There was also a very small part of you that didn’t want to say anything to these people. Really, you didn’t trust your host any farther than you could throw him. 

You hardly knew him.

“I need you to do it.” You insisted. Truthfully, you felt encouraged.

This was probably the most you’d heard from him. Ever.

You might have heard more if you’d spoken to him more, but to be fair, a man of little words attracted very little conversation to himself. Despite what you’d heard, he wasn’t… He wasn’t an easy conversationalist.

“Then you’re not going to be the one shooting down a dragon.”

“So, will you do it?”

He didn’t respond, shaking his head slightly, less so as if he was telling you no and more so as a general expression of his disapproval and of his frustration.

You tapped your finger against wood and paper, feeling at thick, packed paper ends.

It was time for a change of tactics.

“There was, uhm, a missive.” You said, “Someone delivered it while you were out. I think it’s from your dad. It says…”

Dried pulp felt rough against your hands, the wax seal clumsy and easy to peel apart as you unfolded the note. 

You wondered if opening someone else’s mail here was illegal. Hopefully you wouldn’t be arrested… Or thrown into the dungeons, or anything else. Beheaded, maybe?

You resisted the urge to snort.

You made a show of opening it and reading it, which was bullshit and you both knew it because you couldn’t read old norse. You kept your expression still, voice as serious as you could make it, “It says you have to help me shoot down a dragon.”

“No, it does not.” The man hunched for just a moment before turning back around quite abruptly, “Give me- Give me that.”

He reached over the table, snatching it from your hands.

“What does it say?” You asked curiously.

He shot you a look.

“...I think I’d rather shoot down a dragon.”

“So are we-” You tried again, feeling some sort of joy shoot its way up your chest and burst into a million little adrenaline-filled pieces.

You needed him to agree. Now, preferably.

You didn’t know why you were here. What you did know was what the movies told you and, well, you had two eyes, you could tell, quite obviously, that things had not happened the way you’d been told.

It was a one-plus-one sort of situation; a bunch of half-assed guessing and clumsy hoping, but you worked with what you knew. Maybe, if you made things right, then you’d finally be allowed back home from wherever this was. 

“No.”

You huffed. Instead of Hiccup the Useless, his name really should have been Horrendous the Stubborn.

You’d wear him down eventually.

[galaxyregent]

So when baby number two came around it was less of shock, Hiccup was still mildly convinced conceiving her son so easily was a fluke, and yet, here was was with a one year old son and another in her belly. Hiccup's family has always had fertility issues. Dagur's did not.

Dagur was always thrilled when they were getting a new member of the family. I imagine of the two, Dagur had a stronger parental instinct, and was very nurturing. It was almost like he was able to channel his more violent impulses to something more productive. Mostly true. It's been shown to be the case in the show that once you find yourself in his affections, he does everything in his power to protect. Dagur of course does everything in his power to make Hiccups' pregnancies easier, drawing baths, feeding her cravings etc. Dagur desperately wanted a daughter, a daughter he could raise to be a great warrior. He's gotten lucky, baby two was little Sigrid, a great warrior with a gentle heart.

This was actually somewhat based on my late grandfather. My grandfather had two brothers and two sons, so when he got three granddaughters, he was ecstatic. The three of us could do no wrong.

To be clear Hiccup is not upset she's pregnant per say. She was happy to have another addition to the family. But being pregnant means she can't go jumping off cliff to test flight suits, ride Toothless into unknown territory for dragon research or work in the forge. It just means she can't be the feral little gremlin she is at heart. Hiccup struggled more with the role of parent, not helped by how easily to seemed to come to her husband. It seemed supremely unfair how naturally fatherhood came to a borderline madman.

Also she finds Dagur's doting, both annoying and embarrassing.

And kind of sweet.