#httyd books fanfic

[everydayarsonist]

Okay but how has nobody made a fanfic set in the world of the Httyd books about dragons waking up or being rediscovered in the modern era? Like Hiccups memoirs are out there in-universe, how has nobody written one of these? If they have please show me.

EDIT: I have read “Tumbling Forward, We Spin On.”

[musicfandomtrash]

Unpopular Opinion:

The HTTYD movies are just super-expensive fanfiction of the book series.

[thereweredragonshere]

Ref sheet from a fic I’m writing over on ao3! Hiccup has what I would like to call ‘chronic microscopicness in comparison to literally anyone except maybe toddlers’

Hiccup gets the ever living shit beaten out of him and there’s a whole bunch of self doubt, angst and just a general bad time 🤗

[milksuu]

Second Magic

Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader

Word count: 2.OK

Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood

Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.

He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.

a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.

There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.

From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.

“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”

“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”

“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”

“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”

She’s still alive?

“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”

There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”

The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.

To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.

Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.

You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”

He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”

With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”

When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.

Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.

“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.

“You could say that.” 

For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety. 

Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own. 

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”

“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”

“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”

Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.

Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”

He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.

You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.

An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.

The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.

“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.

“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”

Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”

He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”

There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”

Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head. 

Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.

“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”

“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”

He blinked with mystification. “Him?”

A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.

“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.

“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”

“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”

The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears. 

“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”

“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”

[acemdzsfan]

Me: Vibing with a movie adaptation I'm watching purely because it is inaccurate and barely recognizable from the plot of the books.

Movie: Slams the exact same ending as the books into the last part.

Me: "wtf? What was the point of setting up this whole world and plot like a fan fiction if you're just going to cram in the tragic ending? At least commit to the bit."

[byoldervine]

If you're aroace, do you still write romance? If so, do you do it differently than allos do?

Tbh it’s made me very cautious of writing men and women because no matter what straight allos seem to think they’re flirting and would make a super cute couple. Back in my fic days that was often how I decided to have my characters date; I’d get loads of comments saying they couldn’t wait to see how X ship pans out when in reality it was just two friends having banter. And romance always seemed to be like a requirement in every story; if you don’t include at least a subplot where the main characters get together, what’s the point in creating them? Even if that mindset isn’t true

But just to show how my sexuality did indeed influence my writing - as well as my writing actually influencing my sexuality - I’ll give you guys an example:

I’ve mentioned it before but there was one character called Indigo who I wrote in an atrociously-written HTTYD fic on Wattpad back when I was like thirteen - all the comments were saying she was totally in love with another character, Plasma, and how they couldn’t wait to see her accept these feelings she has for him

Reminder; I had no intention of having them be in a relationship

But I decided to lean into it and explore why people perceived it this way, then used another character to be raising all the points. I did admit that, looking back as an older and more experienced writer, I did once or twice say things that implied more than intended because I didn’t fully understand the innuendo of them back then, but there was even some newer stuff that I just couldn’t figure out

So I tested my theories; I had the characters banter more, being very careful in that first chapter to keep it purely platonic, and people were going crazy about the flirting. So I figured if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em; I leaned into it, explored the idea of Indigo having feelings for Plasma. Let her get conflicted on it, let her vent that she had no idea what this kind of love feels like, just generally used it as an excuse to vent my own feelings on romantic love in general. I identified as bisexual at the time, but was starting to question things, so I just poured it out onto Indigo because it did work for her character and her general attitude to relationships of any form

Half the comments were about how they were worried about the ship and how Indigo had to realise her feelings soon - but the other half was people predicting that Indigo was aroace. I challenged my readers more directly to guess Indigo’s sexuality and asexual or aroace was the biggest guess. And so I leaned into it again and brought Indigo into what’s all but labelled as a QPR with Plasma, just to see how it goes, and in the meantime I was looking into asexuality. I think you can figure out how the latter went

But I guess what I learned from all of this when it comes to writing romance is that, at least for myself, it’s surprisingly easy to get people shipping them; have a guy and a girl banter. I’ll have to test in future if this works for visibly queer couples, but in general my go-to for flirting is just casual banter and so far it’s done the trick with my other old fics. I’m not flirting, I’m just sarcastic and British

What really scares me is writing sibling dynamics and other familial relationships because if I can make things flirty without even trying then how will this be perceived?

[thewolfwarriors]

Chapter 2 is coming up!

Have a fishlegs until then

I really love this face

[libraryledge]

A Normal Teenage Life (A HTTYD Story)

A/N: Thank you to the person who requested a HTTYD story. Here's a one-shot I wrote about Hiccup being nervous to make an important confession. Enjoy!

Hiccup was nervous. Even though he rehearsed the scene many times in his head, he felt in his gut that he was going to stumble over his words and make a fool of himself. He knew that he was doing the right thing because confessing his feelings to another soul would make him feel better. However, he could not ignore the pit forming in his stomach over the thought of doing so. 

Despite Fishlegs assuring him yesterday that these nervous jitters were not uncommon, Hiccup could not erase the anxiety he was experiencing.

 “It's okay Hiccup. These feelings are part of a normal teenage life. There is nothing to be ashamed about,” he said aloud to himself, to erase his nerves.

“Yeah, Hiccup. There's no need to be a fraidy cat,” came a voice from behind him that rattled his already tense nerves. Hiccup turned around to see none other than his annoying cousin, Snotlout, grinning at him mischievously.

“Thanks Snotlout. I really needed your reassurance,” he responded with his signature sarcasm. 

“Anytime my dear cuz,” Snotlout replied with a smirk. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes at his cousin. As soon as Snotlout was out of sight, he took a deep breath and headed towards the heart of the village. He stopped in front of a hut with a decorative ax hanging over the doorway. For what seemed like the one hundredth time that day, Hiccup inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

“Ok, Hiccup. This is it. You can do this,” he whispered to himself.

Mustering all the courage that he possessed, Hiccup opened the door. Inside, he found the person who had been tormenting his thoughts all day, peacefully eating a bowl of yak noodle soup.

 “I have a huge crush on Astrid Hofferson!” Hiccup blurted out, feeling relieved to finally have his emotions out in the open, but simultaneously wanting to crawl into a deep dark hole.

The other viking stared back at him in amusement and replied calmly, “Yes son. I know.”

Hiccup stared back, deadpanned and said, “You knew?”

His father, Stoick the Vast, smiled and replied, “Hiccup, you are quite easy to read.” 

Taking note of the blank stare that his son was emitting in his direction, he added in jest, “You worry a bit too much for my taste.”

Hiccup, realizing that he spent an entire day filled with unnecessary anxiety, collapsed onto a chair next to his father, who continued to enjoy his yak noodle soup in amusement at his son's newfound situation. 

“Oh to be young and experience the trials of a normal teenage life again,” Stoick declared in good humor.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear your ideas for future stories. Let me know what you'd like to read next.

[companion-of-the-dragonmark]

I'm working on the first chapter of a Thuggory-centric work right now. I'm super excited! Writing it as a birthday fic for myself. I should have it done within the next couple of days.

I know I've been talking about writing fics for Thuggory for the past 2 years without having done anything, but the past 2 years were rather difficult for me and I didn't have the motivation. Now that it's the Year of the Dragon, I have a lot of motivation now!

Thank you for your patience.

— Companion of the Dragonmark

[agikay21]

ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ

Welcome!

ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ

Hey, pretty people! I’m Agikay (but you can call me Agi) and thank you for stopping by my blog! The main idea is sharing my opinions, headcanons, fanfics, outbreaks and everything a fucked up nerd does about things I like and people who doesn’t exist/fictional. So, basically, I write.

In this blog, I’ll use two languages:

Brazilian Portuguese 🇧🇷;

American English 🇺🇸. ← mainly English

Let's look at the "nos" and "yes" of the blog (things I’ll write or post about and won’t) :

YES ✓:

-SFW (and its subgenres);

-NSFW (and its subgenres); ← but be conscious!

-Headcanons;

-Requests;

-Canon;

-Oneshots;

-Fanfics;

-Fluff;

-Film genres (ex.: romance, drama, etc.);

-Aged up characters;

-Acid humor; ← but be conscious!

-Swearing; ← but be conscious!

-Addictions; ← but be conscious!

-Sensitive topics; ← but be conscious!

-Angst.

-Series;

-Films;

-Musical Theatre.

NO ✗:

-Sexual assault;

-Pedophilia;

-Bestiality;

-Incest.

I like many things in the cinematographic world and I am always open to discovering new things. But my main subjects are:

Tales of Arcadia (Contos de Arcadia);

Songs I like;

Stardew Valley;

Good Omens (Belas Maldições);

Hetalia;

How to Train Your Dragon (Como Treinar o Seu Dragão);

Bridgerton;

Heathers: The Musical;

Hamilton: An American Musical;

Ride the Cyclone;

Hazbin Hotel;

Helluva Boss;

Howl’s Moving Castle (O Castelo Animado);

Darling in the FRANXX;

Five Nights at Freddy’s;

EPIC: The Musical;

SIX: The Musical;

Disney;

Pixar;

Dreamworks;

Harry Potter Saga;

The Folk of the Air Saga;

Shitpost; ← what can I say? it’s funny (*´－｀*)

35mm: A Musical Exhibition;

BeetleJuice: The Musical, The Musical, The Musical;

Wicked;

Historic Facts; ← the owner of the blog is a humanities girlie, so don’t mind if some random history shit pops up on your screen (ভ_ ভ) ♡

In conclusion:

owner of the blog = cringe fucked up nerd ♡

The list will keep getting bigger with time, I guarantee to you.

So, about requests, they’re currently open!

-𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈: 𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃

-𝒫𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒹𝑜𝓈: 𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜

That’s it for now. Don’t forget to send your requests if you like the topics I mentioned.

╔═.✵.══════════╗

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔!

╚══════════.✵.═╝

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧

[corvidpaws]

yet another httyd books fic idea- we need content!! I would absolutely write it but i don’t have all the books yet :(

hiccup and his dragons from the end of book twelve gets swapped with hiccup and his dragon from book one. future!hiccup gets dropped there before the dragon training ceremony, but after he’s met toothless.

everyone would freak out because one second it’s a tiny viking kid and the next it’s a twelve year old with a crown, several scars, a slavemark, a black star and FOUR dragons, two of which happen to be seadragonus giganticus maximus’.

past!hiccup: why am i in a castle where’s snotlout where’s my dad what’s happening

camicazi and fishlegs: shit.

[everydayarsonist]

The Prologue chapter of the Rest Stoppers AU is here!

@anhttydbookfan

[50044w44s]

I cringe at how much I enjoy those little silly "characters react" fics. Like most of them are written by twelve-year-olds, unfinished, and on wattpad or ffnet. Which is fine, because I don't want ao3 to be contaminated, but like, its so hard to find one half decent to read.

I swear I'm a whore for them. Characters reading Harry Potter? give me. Watching httyd? PLEASE.

BUT I THINK I'VE READ THEM ALL BECAUSE I CAN'T FIND ANY ANYMORE AND I MAY DIE. so if you know about one just drop the link I'll be thankful for the rest of my life.

[quiet-art-kid]

How to talk to zemy gorynych has been out for a while but i didn’t do the cover for it for a while cause i was scared of doing it wrong

[oliversaurus-ink]

A huff of warm air blew his hair back. Hamish coughed, the rancid smell of dead fish and woodsmoke was so strong it nearly choked him. He looked up. Broad, and scaly, the beast was dark against the full moon. Clusters of barnacles clung to its hide like spots of mold, bunches of seaweed draped over its back like chunks of oily matted hair. The creature stretched out two great wings and beat them, drops of water flew through the hair, splattering Hamish’s cheek. He didn’t even blink.

Illustration from the latest chapter of my fic! Out now!!

[astraechoes]

Whenever my ships has a dragon flight moment: Siri, please, play “Romantic Flight” from HTTYD