#httyd drabbles

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

Hiccstrid Drabble | Crime Scene

Prompt: I accidentally kicked a rock too hard and it broke the window and you saw it

Astrid stomped outside. The pristine grass crunched her boots. She tipped her head back in hopes of catching a breeze to cool her off, but the air was just stagnant and hot.

Ugh. The slime-mecketing song of a rat-faced half troll never failed to get on her nerves. Fate had decided to be cruel today; Fishlegs, who was Astrid’s usual deskmate in all her classes because he was one of the few boys that never dared to hit on her (i.e. Snotlout) was absent, which had left aforementioned Snotlout to sidle up and take the seat next to her. She had been subject to his disgusting pick up lines for nearly the whole class, and Astrid had been trying to hold in her temper, but she had known she was only a moment away from snapping.

So, she had excused herself to go to the bathroom, and gleefully didn’t return. She never would have skipped class any other time, but this situation called for drastic measures, and it wasn’t as if she had been learning anything.

She howled her frustration to the sky, trusting the music class next to her to mask the sound.

“Argh!!! That awful, no-good, bulge eyed, hairy chested-” she kicked around her ferociously, uprooting the grass around her. She delivered a particularly hard kick to a fist sized rock before she could stop herself, and to her horror, it flew straight towards one of the windows.

“No!” she gasped in panicked terror, just as she saw the missile collide with the glass and shatter it.

No screams erupted from the room, so she supposed it was empty, but the fact brought her little comfort. She stood there, hands pressed to her mouth.

A rustle sounded behind her, and she whirled around to come face to face with another student rising from behind the cluster of bushes. She screeched and reflexively shoved him back down.

“Ow!” the nasally voice cried as the twigs pricked him unceremoniously. “What the- What’re you - why?” he scowled under thick reddish brown bangs.

“You shouldn't sneak up on people like that,” Astrid snapped reproachfully, her version of an apology.

“Alright, geez! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, but you pushed me! You don’t just go around pushing people, y’know! Or breaking windows, for that matter.”

Astrid paled. “You saw that?” she asked tentatively.

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p.’ “and even if I hadn’t, you standing there all guilty by a broken window would’ve been pretty obvious.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, as if it had been his window she had just broken. “I don’t - can you - What do I do?” She wrung her hands. She wasn’t good with controlling her temper, but she had never caused damage before.

He looked surprised for a second like he couldn’t believe she was asking for his advice - to be honest, she didn’t know why she was either - before he quickly regained his composure.

“First rule of crime-doing, flee the scene,” he advised, a dry note in his tone. Astrid couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. He grabbed her hand and began pulling her into a run. Astrid followed, despite the fact that she normally would have punched anyone who ever tried to hold her hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere to hide, he responded, cutting across a lawn and tugging her behind another school building.

“Do you do this a lot?” she questioned. He turned to look at her, and she realized with a start that this boy was actually taller than her, and he had big green eyes.

“What? The hiding, or the breaking windows?” he snarked. She didn’t reply, still taking in his eyes, slightly large nose, and the wrinkled school uniform. His tie was undone and he had grass stains on his collar, which matched his bright eyes that she kept looking at. “I’m Hiccup, by the way,” he dropped her hand and extended it to her to shake.

“Astrid.”

[mathitas]

Leo Valdez would be obsessed with How to train your dragon and we all know it.

[home-of-renn]

One thing that I wished they kept throughout the franchise was Hiccup being the smallest Viking. I wish they kept him scrawny and stringy and shorter than Astrid and the rest of the gang.

Hiccup was ostracised by his entire community for many reasons, one being his weak build and small stature.

Snotlout may be shorter than Hiccup in the movies, but he's got bigger muscles and puffs himself up. He makes up for it by acting like a proper Viking, being loud and obnoxious and always ready to start a fight - that and he can actually lift a weapon.

The name Hiccup is meant to mean small and frail - the runt of a litter or the black sheep. I want Hiccup to be the absolute epitome yet antithesis of his name. I want Hiccup to be small and unassuming and shorter than the rest. But I also want him to be Great. I want him to be brave and stubborn and hard to kill. Awkward and sarcastic at the worst of times but still kind and friendly and always dependable.

I want him to be everything a Viking is and isn't. I want him to be a peacekeeper and a warrior, an adventurer and an inventor, the son of the chief and the hiccup of his tribe. Someone who can't wield the same weapons as his tribesmen so he makes his own. Someone who wants to uphold the traditions and culture of his people yet always thinks outside of the box. The representation of this new age that's fast approaching, the line in the middle where old and new clash.

I want Hiccup to dress like a Viking, talk like a Viking, eat, sleep and walk like a Viking yet be the very last thing anyone ever thinks of when they think of a Viking. And most of all I want there to be absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I wish they hadn't made him tall and appealing in the end. I wish they'd kept him the way he was. A Viking born too early and too weak in the middle of one of the harshest winters ever experienced by the barbaric archipelago. A Viking who beat the odds and survived. He's braved every terrible winter since his birth and lives in a place where it snows nine months of the year and hails the other three. He can endure bone-freezing chills and frozen oceans but never fails to catch the common cold. He's always been a bit sickly, ever since he was a child, but he always bounces back. He's got scars and a missing leg and his hands are filled with callouses, cuts and burns, but he's soft-spoken and loves to read and never skips a meal yet can never seem to get any bigger.

I wish they could have kept Hiccup the way he was. I wish they didn't have to change him in order to have him become a worthy hero.

I wish the entire village could look at their little runt of a chief and still crack jokes about his long-overdue growth spurt. I want them to look at him and be filled with pride, cause despite the fact that he hasn't grown an inch since he was sixteen, there isn't a single person on Berk who can look at him without seeing just how far he's come.

[imfinereallyy]

‘How To Train Your Dragon’ scene where Stoick says “You’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” But make it steddie and everyone lives.

[saturnniidae]

I think we should have more httyd or rotbtd horror

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

astrids character development in thw makes no sense like you're trying to tell us astrid went from axe-weilding warrior to wise tender mother? we're not in the modern world here, this ain't 2023, astrid should be training even HARDER with her axe in order to protect her kids. maybe drop the whole berk guard thing because obviously you want to stay alive for the sake of your kids but girl you're a viking, you should be prepared to kill a bitch for the sake of your kids. maybe this is a hot take but idk i just dont like it. and you KNOW she wouldntve had that character arc if it werent for the fact that they wanted hiccup and astrid to have kids together canonically in the epilogue. like you KNOW it

[zuzufromtheafterlife]

Waiting For The Rain

The night was cold as Toothless and Hiccup slummed their way into a cave to use as shelter for the night. After a mission went south, resulting in them being separated from the rest of their team, they had nothing else to do but take cover for the night and attempt to wait out the storm.

Toothless was the first to drop to the ground after warming it with his plasma, Hiccup following not long after as he used one of Toothless' massive paws as a pillow. Nothing had to be said for one of his mighty wings to extend out over Hiccup, acting as a blanket as they huddled together to wait out the night.

Though Hiccup did nothing but steal the warmth that Toothless supplied, the two stayed curled up for the whole night. Hiccup may have been out cold, the steady rise and fall of his chest giving him away, but Toothless stayed in a light sleep, ears perking at the faintest sounds, ready to defend the defenceless Viking if need be.

As the rain slowed, making it clear enough for Toothless to fly the remainder home, he allowed his Viking to rest for a little longer.

Read here on ao3 @eclipsingbingo @fandom-free-bingo

[telleroftime]

I'm having major Mer!Sun and Mer!Moon brainrot right now, so...

Imagine you're living a nice and peaceful life near the ocean, maybe even having a small part of an island to yourself with an old house looking out at the water. You help your community as best as you can. You help with the fishing trips. You help the little school that's in the centre of town. The general 'tiny fishing village in the middle of nowhere' stuff.

And then one night you happen to look out of your window and see a bright light in the sky. Falling and falling, until it crashes into the ocean with a loud enough noise that has the slumbering birds squawking in terror.

You run out, barefooted and in your pyjamas as the townspeople swarm around the coast. You join them there and squint as the bright light that illuminated the sky dims. It grows faint as it quickly disappears beneath the ocean's surface until the water returns to nothing but dark void. It's silent and everyone looks at one another, waiting for something, anything...

But nothing happens.

It's a nothing that drags on for the first few weeks, one day after the other of looking into the rippling waves and slowly forgetting anything ever happened. Time ticking at a snail's pace until military choppers start flying overhead and men in suits come to ask questions. Everyone has the same idea. Lie. Fib as best as you can. "What light?". "It must have been a shooting start". "Nothing happened".

It takes another few weeks after the military ease off and the ocean grows quiet once more when you actually spot them. Creatures swimming in the shallows of the bay by your house. They look almost alien with bright colourations, long limbs and aquatic tails. So close to being human yet looking nothing like one. Sea-monsters from old fairytales.

The yellow one tries to grab onto a fallen, overripe fruit whilst the other stares from beyond the shadows, red eyes prominent even in the day.

They're larger than you and yet you sneak closer, grabbing a better looking fruit and rolling it towards the creature. It finches then looks past the fruit and straight at you.

You're not sure how to act. Though uncanny they still resemble a humanoid, so surely you could try... talking? But you weren't sure whether these things would understand you. Were they animals? They had to have come from whatever fell from the sky. Would it attack you? Was it dangerous?

The two of you just stared at each other.

Then it blinked.

Then it took the fruit and shuffled back into the water, the darker companion following with a growl.

This was one of the many small interactions you had with the creatures. You spot them and they spot you. You leave them food and they take it with a scurry. You see them more and more often and all the time you have no idea how to treat them.

But you still try to interact.

You try to bait them closer. A dangerous little experiment but you try nonetheless, holding a freshly caught fish in one hand as the sunny being shuffles towards you on the sand. It comes close enough to you that it blocks out the backdrop of the sun and hesitantly reaches out.

Its sharp fingers grip the fish and take it from out of your hands and for a moment you can feel its slimy scales brush against your skin before it pulls away. Its mouth opens, the gleaming teeth exposed, and it chomps down on the fish. Scratch that- half of the fish.

The other half is carefully placed in your lap with an expectant glare. The darker creature chitters behind it.

Did it... expect you to eat it too? You shake your head and then attempt to hand the half to it but it moves away, tilting its head as it points to you. Your lips thin. Did you have to eat it too?

You gesture the half-fish to the darker companion, its chittering stopping. It hisses and dips back into the water.

Great.

This can't be good for you, you think and bring the fish to your mouth, taking the tiniest bite you can manage. It's just as gross as you thought it would be but it has the creature's tail wagging.

It wags its fins everytime it sees you from that moment onwards and you know there's no way of getting rid of them. Not like you would want them to leave. But they follow you around and are there to stay.

Kinda an abrupt end but I had no idea how to finish it.

[cloverofhope]

Taste of Freedom

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 100

Pairing: Viggo/Hiccup

Summary: Viggo gets a taste of freedom when his soulmate goes flying

Got the idea from this reblog from @evilwriter37 on my soulmate au post- finally decided to write something about this au lol

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

Hiccstrid Drabble | A Difficult Interview

“Mr. Haddock - if you please, there are a few questions I-”

Hiccup Haddock, heir to ‘Vast Inc.’ and celebrity amputee, whirled around to glare at the reporter, his stunning green eyes flashing dangerously.

“I don’t care,” he grit out, “I’m in no mood for an impromptu interview.”

“Sir, this is by no means impromptu; I scheduled this meeting with your agent two weeks ago-”

Haddock sighed, cutting off the fierce blonde reporter yet again. “For the last time, I have zero interest in sharing my story with anyone, and WestWings should know this, considering I’ve turned down their offers hundreds of times.”

She straightened, adjusting her notepad and tucking her pen back behind her ear, her thick braid holding it in place. “With all due respect, Mr. Haddock, the four different reporters they sent were unable to retrieve your intriguing story, but they sent me now. And I have a . . . highly successful record in being able to extract difficult information.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you do, looking like that,” he commented snidely. Her carefully polite expression shifted into one of furious outrage.

“Excuse you,” she hissed. “Would you care to elaborate on that?” Her voice was dangerously low. He was completely unaware, rolling his eyes and continuing in a patronizing voice.

“Not at all, you only have that awful scary look on your face that strongly suggests death if I don’t spill all my secrets to you so you can broadcast my personal struggles to the rest of the world,” he snarked.

She drew back, surprised. “Oh.” She had been expecting a different explanation. So many people she interviewed thought the only way a beautiful professional woman was successful was by sleeping her way up to the top.

He blinked, noticing her expression for the first time. His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Oh no, I - I’m so - I didn’t mean to imply that you . . . uh, no. Sorry. I’m not hitting on you or anything. I mean, you’re plenty pretty but I’m sure that’s not - I don’t - ugh.” His throat bobbed in apology and for the first time, she supposed she could understand some of the tabloids gushing about his good looks. He wasn’t wearing a full suit, only a crumpled white button up shirt with no tie and untucked out of his trousers. His green eyes were definitely pretty, she decided, especially when coupled with those high cheekbones.

“You know, I think I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she said easily, smoothing over the awkwardness. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to answer a few questions-”

“Fine. One.” she bit her lip against the annoyance that bubbled at his incessant interruptions. “As an apology,” he continued.

“I don’t need a pity answer,” she tried not to snap. She exhaled sharply. “Anyway, Mr. Haddock, where would you like to start?”

“Let’s start with losing the ‘Mr. Haddock’ crap. Makes me feel like my dad. You can call me Hiccup.” Interesting insight into his relationship with his father; more to unpack there. “And how about somewhere not in the open lobby?”

“Very well, Hiccup,” she said, trying out the name. “You can call me Astrid. But I’m not leaving here until you answer that one question you promised me before you can escape behind made up excuses and appointments.” He smiled wryly.

“Caught on, didn't you?” he huffed. She smiled at him.

“I did. Which is why I believe I’m the best person to pass your story to the rest of the world. Whether you like it or not, things will make themselves known, and you can either have people put together a distorted version of everything, or share an accurate, clear account of what happened. We can work together, Hiccup,” she persuaded him, leaning forward, letting that passionate side of her weave into her voice; it was her true secret of how she could obtain any information, infusing her subject with ardor until they were sharing everything, too caught up in the eager flow of their own words and emotions. She saw the effect on him, how he stood a little taller, the spark in his own eyes.

“You’re really good with your words, Ms. Hofferson,” he chuckled. “But you’re right, and I do believe I can trust you enough with my story to not tarnish it with overly dramatic details.” Astrid shrugged an elegant shoulder, pleased she’d broken through his unreceptive exterior.

“I can understand if you’re uncomfortable imparting your story in what seems like an unfeeling and formal environment. Would it be better for us to arrange to meet in a more casual setting? Perhaps a coffee shop?” She was willing to make accommodations if it led to the result she wanted.

Hiccup’s eyes flicked up to meet hers uncertainly. “Professionally,” she clarified. He nodded, ducking his head slightly so she couldn’t quite catch the expression in his eyes. Was he . . . disappointed? Astrid was certainly not averse to getting to know him more . . . privately, after she completed her article about him and solidified her career.

“That sounds good,” he agreed. “Now, as for that one question . . .”

[mathitas]

I am now obsessed with Dragon Trainer, so if anyone wants to ask for a fan fiction, I’m open to it!

[that-crazy-skz-stan-uwu]

can i pitch an idea to you

same person

Thank you for the ask Lux! 🩷 Fr they both give off the same vibes! Dragon Rider Chan would be so cool! (i apologize if this ask has been here for a while and i haven't seen it!!!! 😭) Quick drabble of my ideas about it: Dragon Rider Chan spends to much time on his inventions for the dragons. He's drawn up some of the most ingenious gadgets and gizmos you could think off, both for battle and for Berk to make it more comfortable for the dragons. The rest of SKZ as his fellows riders would follow Chan to the ends of the earth, and into the hidden world, if he asked. Chan and the rest of SKZ have made it their mission to keep all of the dragons safe from those who wish them harm. Much like Hiccup he is an excellent strategist and plans missions down to the T. Whether they go as planned is another question... Personally, besides Toothless as the best choice of dragon, I'd think that another dragon that Chan really likes is the Death Song. He probably already has some ideas on some gadgets that are inspired by the Death Song too. For some reason, baby dragons absolutely adore Chan! They would be allover his house and lab, following him everywhere. At first it was kinda funny and a bit annoying while he was trying to work, but now Chan has a huge soft spot for the babies. He lets them sleep on his desk and lap while he works and pets them when he's reading.

[evilwriter37]

Battles got messy when the dragons ran out of shots. The smell of blood rivaled the sickening smell of burning flesh, sharp as a sword in the air. Scarlet stains adorned the decks of ships, made themselves known on the clothes of the riders. Bones broke, heads rolled, teeth gnashed, talons slashed. The screams were almost the same, but instead of being cut short by fire, they lasted, turning into gurgling as the enemy choked and drowned in their own blood. Viscera was a painting across the battlefield, a painting the leader wanted nothing to do with. All was quiet. 

[ryan-says-hi]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

Hiccup does not trust Emily.

(With his life? Sure, of course. She was an Overland, after all, and one of the brightest kids he’d ever met. She could guide him in an electrical storm. It doesn’t hurt his conscience that Jack has guided him through an electrical storm before, and Hiccup knows she inherited the same steady hand as her brother.

So, yes. Hiccup would trust her with the membrane of his tailfins.

With his heart? Never. Not in the slightest.)

“I don’t know about this.”

Emily scoffs beside him, tapping her fingers idly against the trunk of the tree they’re somewhat hidden behind. It’s a weirdly loud noise from such a tiny girl, like she can somehow summon the dragon slumbering in her bones. “Relax. He’ll get it this time.”

“No, not—” Hiccup vaguely waves the hand not holding Jack's flowers. Predictably, it clears up nothing, if the deepened deadpan on Emily’s face means anything. It always does. “I mean, are you sure he’s sleeping?” 

A good ten tails away from them, Jack is laid sprawled in the grass under another oak, one knee propped and his ankle swung lazily over it. Maybe Hiccup’s spent too much time around Jack when he’s napping, but he’s not entirely convinced Jack is nearly as deep asleep as Emily says.

. . . which, on rewind, sounds very creepy, Hiccup realizes with no small amount of shame, his tail flicking in irritation against Emily’s legs.

Emily rolls her eyes. It’s alarmingly reminiscent of Astrid. “Would I lie to you?” 

“Probably.”

She kicks at his tail. Hiccup barely avoids the blow, instinct being the only thing that saves her toes from bruising. It wouldn’t have hurt him. “Well, I’m not,” she insists, poking at his side. “Now go give him your stupid flower.”

With that, she tucks her tiny arms behind his back and gives him a shove. Hiccup stumbles, his tail thwacking her in the torso as he fights not to fall over. 

“Ow!”

“Serves you right!”

The glare she gives him should kill him on the spot, but it doesn’t. He must have earned a god’s favor. He’s not sure which one, but he sends a vague prayer to all of them and scurries away from their tree before she can retaliate.

By now, the sheep are fairly used to his presence. They used to scramble anytime he got near, but now they don’t even bother batting a sheeply eye as he makes his way over the pasture to Jack. The sight of it makes his heart constrict—how trusting they are of him now. 

The sight of Jack makes his heart clench worse.

His hair is a shock of white on his forehead, like all his time spent with the sheep made him blend into his flock. His mouth is open, face slack, and staff crooked idly against the base of the oak, as though Jack were completely content when he settled down in the grass to bask under the shade of the tree. It’s a sweet thought, one that Hiccup turns over in his mind like a syrup stick, something chewy and delightful buoyed in his chest at the idea of Jack being so at ease that he could trust Hiccup (and Emily) to keep an eye on the sheep without his staff clenched tightly in his fist.

Wind rustles through the grass, swiping at the hair on Jack’s forehead and sending it tumbling over his eyebrows. Hiccup isn’t thinking when he crouches down, already reaching out to brush the hair away from Jack’s forehead—

—when a pair of hands land on his back and shove.

Now, look.

Hiccup may not be the most physically gifted dragon, but he is a dragon. That fact that Emily managed to sneak up on him at all is astonishing, and makes him second guess just how human she actually is. It’s his complete and utter surprise that Hiccup blames for why his wings snap out, smacking Emily in the face as he topples on top of Jack, all bones and armour and dragon-limbed weight of him.

Jack jolts awake.

“Holy—!” 

“Oh Gods, are you—”

“Hiccup? What are you—?”

Emily’s laughing. Emily is on the ground cackling like a witch, and Jack is staring up at Hiccup with huge eyes, blinking like his vision is still blurred with sleep, and Hiccup wants to set the pasture ablaze. “Are you okay?” he asks Jack.

“Uhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes dart past Hiccup, toward where Emily sounds like she’s rolling in the grass. His face settles into a frown. 

He brings his hands up, setting his palms on Hiccup’s chest plate. All thought in Hiccup’s brain whooshes straight out of his ears, confusion and delight making an emulsion where reason should be, up until Jack opens his mouth and says, “Can you please get off of me? You’re heavy and that hurt, like, a lot.”

The emulsion vanishes mysteriously. It’s replaced by an all-encompassing embarrassment that makes plasma well in Hiccup’s throat. 

He scrambles off of Jack in an instant. Jack sits up, rubbing at his chest. He squints at Hiccup, his focus darting to and fro before settling somewhere behind Hiccup. “Emily,” he says, in that tone of voice he uses when he’s trying to be the stern big brother, but whatever affection he has for his sister is making him miss by a mile.

Behind him, Emily’s cackles have died into giggles. When he turns, he sees she’s sprawled out in the grass, obscured by pampas and greens except where her knees sway side to side, rising and falling as she twists on the ground. Hiccup isn’t sure if he’s irritated by her smug facade, or amused by her childish glee.

He doesn’t get a chance to decide when a cold hand meets his, and pulls the flower from his grasp. 

He whips around, heart in his throat and every excuse in the world on his tongue.

Jack is—

—well.

He’s handsome, first and foremost. So handsome it makes Hiccup want to bang his head against a wall sometimes.

Secondly, and more importantly, is the bewildered look on his face as he twirls the semi-crushed flower between his fingers, the green petals bristling despite his gentle treatment. His eyes are huge, flickering across Hiccup, and if he doesn’t say something in the next several seconds, Hiccup’s fairly certain he’ll cave to the urge to take to the sky and never be seen again.

“Wow. Where, uh,” Hiccup starts. Stops. Swallows around the lump of panic in his throat. “I didn’t hurt you too badly. Did I?”

“Where did you find this?” Jack asks, completely ignoring Hiccup’s question. He lunges into Hiccup’s space, the hand not holding the flower landing on Hiccup’s shoulder and did the temperature rise? Did it just spike, suddenly and rapidly, or has the plasma in his bile sack somehow melted into the rest of his limbs? ���Did you see who left it? Where they went?”

“Uhh,” Hiccup says, eloquently, his brain racing to keep up. Jack pulls away abruptly, standing up to pace, and Hiccup can breathe again, thank the Gods. 

“Someone’s been leaving me these—these flowers for me.” Jack waves the flower at him. As if Hiccup hadn’t been the one delivering it in the first place. Hiccup nods numbly. Seemingly satisfied, Jack runs a hand through his hair, something incredulous crossing his face. “I’ve never seen them before, I have no clue what they are, and—!”

“Green Gamblers,” Hiccup says. 

Jack stops in his tracks. “What?”

“They’re Green Gamblers,” Hiccup repeats, resigning himself to his fate as he sinks to sit cross-legged in the grass. He’d known, realistically, that he couldn’t keep delivering Jack flowers forever. He knew he was going to get caught in the act eventually. He just thought he might have a little longer to try and—and—well. His brain supplies him with the word “woo,” but that isn’t right. He just wants to be close to Jack. “They’re a type of flowers that show up on the mountains of Berk in spring.”

He curls his tail over his legs, getting comfortable for the inevitable rejection he’s about to receive. Jack’s bewilderment hasn’t exactly felt positive or negative, so he can’t be sure what to expect, but—

He feels the rush of Jack’s movement moments before Jack appears two inches from his face. 

“So you know these?” He asks, breathless, eyes shining. 

. . . Huh? “What?” Hiccup asks.

“You know these,” Jack repeats, more confident this time. “So the person delivering these is a dragon.” Jack sits back on the balls of his feet, looking beyond pleased with himself, which—huh? “I mean, I didn’t think they were human, but it’s nice having confirmation and all.”

Hiccup blinks at him. Jack . . . can’t be that dense. He can’t. “Jack,” Hiccup tries, a new sort of panic rising in him, but Jack steamrolls ahead. 

“Did you see who left them? Or catch anyone leaving the field? I haven’t been asleep long.”

What does Hiccup say to that?

Behind him, there’s a stirring in the grass, and then Emily appears in his line of sight. Her face is scrunched like she’s in pain. She reaches out a hand to Jack. “Jack, that’s not—”

Something clicks in Hiccup’s head.

“No!” He blurts suddenly. Both Emily and Jack whip their heads to him, but Hiccup hardly takes notice, seized by the gift horse being presented to him. “No! I–I didn’t see who it was. I just saw a silhouette fly off. I thought maybe you had other dragon friends aside from me, but now I know to, uh, stop them. Interrogate ‘em for you.”

Hiccup knows he’s an awful liar. Every word he says stutters drunk off of his tongue to land in a sheepish heap at the Overland sibling's feet.

Jack visibly perks up. 

Emily sends him a deadpan look that would make Astrid cry with pride.

“Well, you don’t have to interrogate them,” Jack drawls, even as a pretty smile lights up on his cheeks. “But, yeah. You think you could get a name for me?”

Hiccup swallows hard, and does his best to smile in return. “Sure thing, Jack.”

__________

@aura2023 Ehehe one more part to go! This was based on the scene Aura wrote of Hiccup being pushed by Emily while trying to deliver flowers. Part Three will be about hugs at night : ) You can read a preview of the plot summary Here!

Also, Green Gamblers, because my partner suggested a green flower as a way for Hiccup to present something rare and cool to Jack:

[useless-moss]

The Story

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Vigcup

Description: He'd heard the rumors. Knew the basics. But he'd never heard it from the source. He may as well ask, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"... Soo..." Viggo stared absentmindedly into the water still swirling within the cup he held. It moved with the gentle, soothing motions of the boat. Motions that would have lulled him to sleep long ago if he wasn't acutely aware of and watching the young, tense as a board brunette who was begrudgingly sitting across from him.

"... Um, so..?" The question and raised eyebrow made Viggo realize he'd let the silence stretch too long. Let it become uncomfortable as he zoned out, listening to the subtle creaks that echoed through the ship with every gentle wave that hit it.

"Ah, apologies my dear. I just, well, I've grown a bit curious. I'd like to hear the story."

"The... Story..?"

"Of how you lost your leg." Viggo smiled, making sure the expression was as soft and sympathetic as he could possibly make it. He figured it was a sensitive topic for the chief-to-be, regardless of how long it had been since the injury had been sustained. And he didn't want to make Hiccup uncomfortable. Or, well, anymore uncomfortable then he already was.

"Oh-oh, yeah. That story. Well..." Hiccup trailed off. He didn't seem nervous or even necessarily apprehensive, no. If anything he seemed to be wondering where to start. Wondering if he should share the tale to begin with. Then again, why not? There was nothing in the story Viggo could use against him. He didn't think so, at least. And if the older man was simply curious, which appeared to be the case, there was no real harm in appeasing the interest.

Viggo, however, took the prolonged silence as a sign of discomfort.

"You don't have to share if you aren't comfortable. I don't mind. I can remain curious, if it's what you'd prefer. I imagine it was quite a traumatic event."

"Huh? Oh-no, no. It's fine. I was just-well-it's a long story-"

"We have all night, my dear." And they did. It would be at least until morning before help would arrive for Hiccup, and the sun had only recently gone down. They had an entire night. Hiccup let out a breathy, nervous laugh and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, it started after I shot down Toothless..."

And the story was told. With every other sentence Viggo's eyes grew slightly wider, his expression slightly more impressed, and his posture slightly more slouched as he leaned forward. He was fully invested in the tale. Fully enamored. He watched as Hiccup visibly grew more relaxed as he talked. As he tried to talk with his hands despite them being tied together. By the time the Red Death was even mentioned Viggo was more infatuated with the younger man then he'd ever thought possible. Was nodding along with the story and asking the occasional clarifying question. He caught himself holding his breath as Hiccup recounted the battle that had cost the brunette his leg and a small bit of his sanity. As he described how the airborn fight had been both exhilarating and terrifying. How wonderful it had felt to fly with Toothless like they were one singular unit and how the Night Fury had saved him during the plummet to the ground. How, for a while, he was convinced he'd died. That the queen had won, and he'd, in 'true Hiccup fashion', failed everyone once again.

Viggo felt his heart racing as the story was concluded. He'd gotten so into the tale, been envisioning what he could so vividly, it was almost like he was there. Like he was a helpless bystander left to watch the chaos unfold. Left unable to do anything about it. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and downed half of his cup of water in one go. He had never before in his life held so much respect and admiration for another human being. But Hiccup, scrawny, future chief Hiccup Haddock who had taken down a Red Death and walked away with only a missing leg at fifteen years of age, had completely captured the remainder of his heart and soul within the twenty or so minutes it took to tell the story. Had left him even more enamored with the younger man than he thought possible.

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

AU where Hiccup was actually secretly sorta friends with the gang prior to shooting down Toothless, and his dragon killing class size is doubled in size with another group of kids who mercilessly bully him, and post-Red Death incident that group tries to befriend him and his actual friends step in and are like bruh noooo what are you on about lmao you were assholes to him.