#toothless is the untamable

[argentavis-paws]

At its core, httyd is a horse movie and Hiccup Haddock is a horse girl

[ziracona]

Showed family some of The Untamed during my holiday visit, and when I say everyone got invested, I mean everyone.

[artteristly]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍.𝐁

SUMMARY, you’ve been daphne's best friend since forever, to the point you were considered family toward her family. Though there was always this one boy who you didn’t see as family, simply as your future lover, that was daphne's older brother, a boy your age, a flirtatious boy who you mistook as someone who always jokes around, it was actually the opposite, he meant every word he uttered towards you, a sweet dream indeed.

MASTERLIST, 𝓌ord count, 4.2K

𝒮weet, a nice word Colin would always use to reminisce about his childhood. His love of the wild, the feeling of walking in the gardens alone, and simply enjoying his peaceful days. However, one summer, when he was the age of nine, Daphne waltzed into the house dragging a very clueless girl inside. 

His mother, who greeted the girl asked her what was going on, and you simply replied with a childish smile. You had told her Daphne had spotted you admiring butterflies and tagged along with you, and as the day got later, you thought it would be best to walk the six-year-old girl back home. 

Daphne insisted she should show you her home garden, talking about how multiple gorgeous butterflies passed through there. You had asked Violet if it was okay with her, and she told you it was fine but only to be careful. Colin watched you that day from a window, admiring how connected you were with nature, which he now wanted to be engulfed in. 

“That is a Morpho, a beautiful insect indeed.” You smile at Colin, who is caught off guard when you appear behind him. You crouch right next to him, making him inhale air as he turns nervous. You held out your finger to the insect and let it attach itself to your finger, slowly bringing it to Colin's face. “Pretty isn’t it? It’s quite similar to your eye color!” You smile. 

His eyes looked at you then the bug who crawled around your finger, somewhat sending goosebumps through your body, making you laugh in response. “Are you not afraid?” He muttered, pulling his knees deeper into his chest. You look at him then the bug, chuckle, and nod. “No, I like to admire beautiful things, My father also likes to do the same.” You told him, flickering your finger and making the butterfly fly away. 

“My name is Colin.” He told you, making you look at him again and smile. “I know, Daphne talks a lot about her older brothers.” You stood up, making him hastily stand up again too. “I heard you want to travel the world, correct?” You asked him, and his response was nodding his head furiously. “Then when you can, you must visit me in Italy!” You giggle. 

“You’ve been to Italy?” Colin asked you, and you saw stars in his eyes, making you blush. “I go every summer since my mother’s family lives there.” You grab his hands, making him pipe down. “You and Daphne must visit my home, I have many travel souvenirs from my trips there!” You told him, and he nodded in acceptance. 

Since then he never saw you as family, he always saw you as his first love. 

You, however, fell in love with Colin at first sight. You were studying with your father, who told you some bug facts and let you touch them. Then the sound of horses rang in your ears, and you saw a man and three boys approach your father. “Edmund! How are you, old man?” Your father smiled at him, making the other laugh. 

You looked over to see the man your father was talking to, only for your father to introduce you. “My daughter.” You look up, smiling at the man kindly making him smile towards you. “Ah, my three sons, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin.” He moved out of the way for the two of you to see. 

Your eyes widened as they laid on him, his untamed hair, and his somewhat toothless smile, as he joked with his other brother. You nod your head at them, as they do the same, and say hello, before leaving them to look at the bugs as your father talks to the other man. 

As they depart, you look over to catch him one more time, he was the first one to gallop away. He looked like a prince in your eyes, enchanting and alluring. 

Your childhood with him was a happy memory, but now times are different. You were a young lady who was about to be introduced into society but with terrible news arriving hastily to your estate in London, you couldn’t as your mother was being summoned back to Italy. 

 “Oh, how I wish you could be here for my debut.” Daphne sniffled some tears that made you giggle. “My dear Daphne, do you think I would leave without giving you something?” You bit your lip, not wanting to smile too big. Daphne looked at you in confusion but gasped when a maid handed you a box. 

“Here are your debut shoes, your mother gave me permission to get them for you, as a farewell gift.” You smiled, letting her hold the box and look at the shoes in amazement. She squealed in delight, putting the shoes aside and hugging you. “Oh, I’ll miss you! Three years will be far too long.” 

“Three years?” Violet frowned, hastily putting her teacup down. “What about your debut year, dear?” She asked all Bridgerton sisters to look at you. You sigh and frown “I will have to debut when I'm twenty and three.” You cradle your cheek with your hand, making everyone frown. “We will surely miss you, dearest.” Violet smiled sadly. 

“So will I! I already promised Daphne that I would write to her.” You held her hand, making her smile at you. “My, what is happening?” Anthony called out, breaking the tight atmosphere as he, Benedict, and Colin walked into the drawing room. “Miss Sinclair will be leaving us for three years.” Violet frowned at the news once again. 

Colin's eyes widen as he looks over towards you, only to see your face forming a frown. “Whatever for?” Colin asked, making you look at him. “My mother has affairs to attend to since my grandfather is somewhat ill.” You place down your teacup.

“Do not worry, It’ll just be for three years, I will come back, hopefully.” You smile at them, making them express how they will miss you once again. When it was about time to leave, Hyacinth begged you to bring her something back from Italy, to which you nodded to reassure her you would. 

“Now Hycinth, why don’t you let me walk her down?” Colin grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his arm, making you jump in surprise. As you two leave the drawing room, you look up towards him, smiling kindly. “I will write to you.” You told him, making him look down towards you. “I will miss you, perhaps I will visit you if I were to start my tour.” He smiled, making you laugh. You pull him into a vacant room, pulling out a wrapped gift just for him. 

“I did not want to give you this in front of your family, since I did not bring gifts for them, just you and Daphne.” You hand him the wrapped gift, making him look at you. You both heard your name being called out by a maid, meaning your carriage was ready. You told yourself ‘now or never’ as you did, you stood on your tippy toes and landed a kiss on Colin's cheek. “Goodbye, Colin.” 

He stood utterly shocked as you left the room, making your way out with a flushed face. Colin felt like a boy who had just gotten a new toy when he ran upstairs towards his room. He breathed in and out while looking at the wrapped gift, he panted as he tore it open. 

A journal? He hesitated as he undid the tie around it, watching as a note fell from it. 

‘Dear Colin, I gift you this journal to write in if you were to start your tour, to express your feelings when I am not there or when you are struggling. A journal for only your eyes. – sincerely, your girl.’ 

The room had simply gotten too hot to be in, as Colin rested in his bed and read over and over your handwriting. He groaned at the thought of your lips on his cheek, a moment he had been waiting for, and when it had finally happened, you were gone—three years of pure torture. 

He never got the opportunity to visit you in Italy when he had embarked on his journey. His tour never crossed paths in Italy, therefore he wrote to you, about how the world was different, the way of life was different, and how he wished for you to see it. When his letter got your sweet responses he would dream of you, how you would whisper the words you wrote into his ears, the texture of your lips on his neck, sweet torture. 

Three years, everything would change. He would change, and so would you. He turned into a man, a man who was no longer seen as a young boy, and you were no longer a young lady, you were a mature lady, who had seen her fair share of society. 

When the news got out that you had returned to London, Colin was bordering the next ship to go back home as soon as possible. He just groaned in annoyance as he arrived on the day of Francesca's debut, as well as yours. He just wished to see you before the event. 

He followed his family to the presentation, waiting anxiously as they called debutante after debutante. “Will you finally make a move on her?” Daphne leaned over towards Colin, making him raise a brow towards her. 

Daphne looked at him, giving him a look. “You will make her our new sister, right?” Hyacinth butted in, making him look at all three of his sisters. “You should hurry up if you are, I feel this season will be different.” Daphne smiled at him, before turning over towards Francesca who rose from her curtsy at the queen, leaving quickly as she came.

“Miss Sinclair, presented by her Mother, Duchess of York, Lady Amelia Sinclair–Bianchi.” 

Colin felt his airways clog up as he watched you gracefully present yourself to the queen, a gated beauty now being unlocked to the public. He hated the fact you caught the attention of the queen, you might have been announced the Diamond of the season until he saw the queen just smile and wave you off. 

You looked rather mature now, your posture was straight and your smile was now on display to the Ton who faced you with curiosity. He let his eyes wander your covered body, he shouldn’t, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second. 

“The clock is ticking brother, it is now or never,” Daphne whispered into his ear, making him swallow at the thought of confessing to you. She was right, now or never. 

“Miss Sinclair, Ma’am.” A valet called out to the family who was in the drawing room, making everyone cheer up. It had been a few days after the presentation, and since you were preoccupied with potential suitors, you hadn’t gotten the chance to visit the family. 

Colin fixed his posture on the sofa, making everyone tease him. “Good day!” You’re cheerful attitude was brought into the blue room, making every family member cheer when you showed up. “Dear, good to see you!” Violet stood up and hugged you, making you giggle. 

“It’s good to see you all, it’s been a long time hasn't it?” You leave the hug to study the faces in the room, but you can’t recognize two. “Ah, you must Simon? Daphne has mentioned you in her letters!” You place a bag on the floor, offering a hand to the man who took it politely. “You must be her dearest friends is that so?” Simon smiled as you nodded furiously. 

You turn over towards the other figure in the room, making your smile widen more. “You must be Kate!” You rush in to hug her, making her stumble a bit back. “Sorry, It’s a pleasure to meet the person who captured Anthony’s heart!” You apologize quickly, making the new Viscountess laugh. 

“The pleasure is mine, I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.” Kate smiled, and the thought of her clumsy sister came to mind, seeing you made her smile warmly. “Again sorry I couldn’t attend your weddings, Italy has been a bit troublesome.” You look at every face in the room, they have nothing but questions. 

“Oh my!” You tumbled a bit when Hycinth and Gregory hugged you tight, making the rest laugh. “My have you two grown!” You smiled as the two started to bicker about who grew taller, but you interrupted them with a cough. “Neither the less, I come bearing gifts!” 

You laugh as the youngsters sit down, giving the floor to you. “I suppose I’ll go from oldest to youngest.” You mutter as the first two sons cheer, making the younger ones groan. “Violet.” You start, by making the oldest groan, making the others laugh at their behavior. “A pearl necklace.” You handed it to her, making her gasp at its beauty, standing up to kiss your cheek. 

“For Anthony, An Italian-style quill.” You take out of the bag and handed it out for him to study. “Italian brandy for Simon.” You handed the man, making him utterly speechless. 

“Daphne wasn’t particular in her letter about what you liked, so I took a wild guess, I hope you like it.” You explained, making him reassure you it was adequate. “Benedict, I heard you were no longer into paintings but had already purchased it, I hope it makes you want to paint again, Italian paint oils, for you.” You handed him, making him look at the paint, then giving you a small smile.

“To match with Anthony, Kate, I got you an Italian-style quill in purple.” You handed her, making her gasp and hug you. “Colin.” He looked at you, making him sit still as he took in your tone. “I got you, Italian maps and a new journal.” You handed him, making you smile as his blue eyes met yours, smiling at you. 

“Daphne, a perfume set to match with Hyacinth, a rather popular book series in italy for dear Eloise, An Italian music sheet for Franny, and a Bow and arrows for Gregory.” You wrap up, watching as the four squeal at their gifts, making you smile. As you sit back down, right next to the brunette, watching as everyone interacts with their gifts.

“Thank you for the gifts,” Colin whispers into your ear, making you burn up. “Of course, but I will say I must need something in return for yours.” You tease him. 

He was now looking at you directly, making you smile. “What would that be?” He asked raising a brow, making you tap your chin, acting as if you were thinking about it. “Perhaps you can let me read a page or two of your journal?” You ask of him, making him still. 

Colin’s mind wandered to the many things he wrote inside his journal, to the late-night adventurous, then to the thoughts of you, dear little you. He opened his mouth, about to answer until his brother interrupted. “Well, let’s head to dinner everyone.” Anthony stood up, guiding his wife to follow him. 

You two watched as everyone spilled out of the drawing room, leaving you and Colin to be the last ones in the room. You took a glance towards him, breath hitching as you saw him already staring. “Would you care to accompany me to a late evening stroll after dinner?” Colin smiled, that smile, the one that made you want to melt. “How could I decline.” You smile, walking downstairs with him. 

During dinner, Colin noticed how much he missed you. How you brought the mood up by answering questions, making light jokes, and playing with the younger ones. Simon and Kate had taken a liking to you, making you blush. He saw his mother laugh at something you said, a laugh so childish. 

Everyone seemed at ease, forgetting the hardships they fought last season. A feeling he had missed dearly while at sea, missing you. As everyone departed from dinner, you and Colin walked through his outdoor garden. “You’ve been to three cities in three months?!” You gasp, making you look at him, him laughing at your face. “What like it’s hard!” 

“It is unless they were all next to each other!” You whack his bicep, gasping at how firm it was. “My goodness, Colin!” You release your arm out of his, making him laugh. “Last time I saw you, you were still bones!” You knocked him over a bit, but it didn’t affect him at all. “Your style too! Who changed you!” You giggled. 

“Paris changed me a bit, why? You don’t like it?” He told you, the last bit catching you off guard. He looked at you for your response. You take your time studying him, you can’t deny it, he did look good. “I do, it makes you look more mature.” You huff, walking away from him. 

He walked right behind you, trying to catch up to you. “Seems like Italy changed you too, you look pretty.” Colin grabbed your hand and brought the back of it to kiss. You watched as he kissed it, bending down to your height to do so. “You jest around too much, Colin.” Colin heard you say so and could feel your hand trembling as he did so, making him smile. “Look! A Dandelion!” You snatch your hand away, marching where you saw the plant. 

He watched as you bent down to pick some, he noticed you two were quite far from the house. There you stood in front of a miniature field of Dandelions. Colin looked at you as you picked some up but they blew away before you got a chance to blow on it. “Hurry Colin!” You looked at him with such joy in your eyes, that his heart couldn’t take it. When you look at him, he has never felt so alive and free, only something he could muster up by being with you. 

You giggled as you walked back towards Colin, offering him a dandelion. “I could never find one of these in Italy, how I missed them.” You smiled at him, making him quiet up. 

“Let’s make a wish!” You told him, bringing his hand up to yours. He could only watch as you counted to three, making him lean in and blow on it the same time you did. He wished for many things, such as courage and luck. 

He wished for you, he wished you could be his, he wished he gained your father's blessing to marry you. If one thing came true, he would wish on every dandelion here if it meant he would get you. As he opened his eyes, he only saw you. 

You smiled as you could see his blue eyes, making you laugh. “What did you wish for?” You asked but then bit back. “Wait! Don’t tell me or it won’t come true!” You said but kept rambling on about the rules of wishing. He stayed quiet, he only looked at you with desire. Not daring to break the gap between you two. “Colin?” He felt his heart palpitate as you usher his name quietly. 

“I wished for you.” He whispered, making you quiet up. “I can’t hold these feelings in anymore, dear.” His tone made you only focus on him, his words felt sweet as a dream, was it a dream? 

“Colin, what are you talking about?” You murmured as you wanted more information. “I love you, very very much.” He brought your hands to his lips, hiding his face in them after. “I’ve loved you since we were nine, when you compared me to a Morpho.” You just looked at him as he rambled on. 

“I wanted to visit you in Italy, and to propose to you immediately, but then Anthony stopped me, telling me to wait until you were introduced into society.” Colin went on. “Then when I saw you in your white ball gown, when I saw you dolled up, I wanted you.” 

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you being with someone else, I would be a fool to not take the chance now, so here I am, begging you to give me a chance.” He begged. “I want to cherish you, love you, grow old with you, please allow me to do so.” 

You looked at him in shock, tears brimming your water line. “You’re not joking with me, right?” You sob, blinking as you let the tears float down. “This isn’t a dream, right?” You crouch down. Colin watched as you sobbed, confused but followed you. “This isn’t a dream and I’m not joking.” Colin wiped the tears away, cradling your cheek gently. 

“Why would I joke about that?” He asked you, making you sniffle and reply. “I always thought you were joking around with me.” You wipe your tears away. “I would never!” 

“I love you till the day that I die!” Colin grabbed your hands, declaring how much you mean to him. You watched as he defended himself from your silly little statement. You giggled, making him stop. “You’re still the same after all.” You watch as he becomes confused. “You’re still the childish and sensitive Colin I know.” You smile as you watch him groan in his hands.

“I love you too, Colin, ever since we were children I wanted to marry you, you were my prince charming.” You say, making him still as a rock. Colin hugged you, effortlessly picking you up into the air, making you shriek. “Is that a yes?” Colin asked you hurriedly, making you raise a brow. “To marry you?” 

Colin nodded hastily, he pulled something out of his waistcoat pocket. A ring was presented to you, making you look at him in awe. “I would love to marry you, Colin!” You exclaim happily, not being able to contain your happiness you jump into his arms. 

He spun you around in delight. As he placed you down again, he gently placed the ring on your finger, making you lightly sob again. You two laugh and giggle as he offers his handkerchief, and as you walk back into the house, a valet tells you that your family has arrived to pick you up. 

“A good way to break the news, no?” Colin smiled as he looked down towards you, you laughed and nodded in agreement. As you walked into the drawing room, you couldn’t help but tear up again, making your parents worry. 

You and Colin looked at each other and nodded, he declared that you two were engaged and you just watched as everyone reacted. Daphne was the first one to cheer, happily approving of this union as she hugged you tightly. “Finally!” She jumped happily hugging her brother next. 

The whole moment felt like a sweet dream, you were scared it was all an Illusion. 

Then everything went black, the sweet moment torn away from you as you fell into an abyss. “Dear?” A faint voice called out, making you groan. “Dear.” It called out again, making you open your eyes, as you were vision was flooded with a blue-colored ceiling. 

“Finally you awoke.” A warm voice called out, making you hum and turn to see who was speaking. Colin, it was Colin who was leaving a trail of kisses on your collarbone, to your cheek. You look around you to see your surroundings, a room mixed with baby blues and baby purples, your nightgown flung on a chair as well as Colin's nightshirt next to it. 

Then returning to reality, you sighed as you two were cuddled in your warm bed, melting back into his embrace. “What happened?” He asked as he snuggled closer into you, making you scrunch up. “I had a dream.” You spoke out, he hummed out making you aware he was listening. You brought your hand up to your face to scratch your nose, only to see your wedding ring on your finger. 

“I had a dream about when you declared your love for me, and when you told me to marry you.” You told him, shuffling around to look at him in the eyes, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“You still remember that day clear as day?” He smiled at you, making you smile as well. “Word to word, every single thing.” You kiss his nose as he turns a flustered color. “Impeccable remembrance my wife has.” Colin drags you into his chest as you two stay in bed for a little longer. 

“How could I forget it? One of the happiest days of my life.” You mumble onto his chest as he sends a vibration of his laugh down to your ear. “One of mine as well.” He agreed. 

After a pinch of silence, you spoke again. “It was a sweet dream.” You snuggled into his warmth, wanting nothing more to melt into him. Colin allowed you to do so, whispering sweet words into your ear making your naked body heat up with warmth. Then after a slight moment to yourselves, a squeal ran across the hall to your door. “Mummy!” A little one called out right after. 

[nightfury-2001]

The other thing about the Light Fury being "Untameable wild beast" or whatever is it's just not true!!! She's like that because she was abused by humans! ALSO! She literally saves hiccups life at the end of the movie! And is okay with being around humans (If not still skittish and scared a little bit) and lets hiccup touch her! Like she's not "Untameable" she's literally just scared of humans for valid reasons.

Yeah that's definitely yet another reason why "She's a clarion reminder that wild dragons will attack a human when they see them!!!!" and all that shit makes literally no fucking sense, even when specifically talking about her. Like, isn't the main reason she was so aggressive towards Hiccup and the other vikings at first because her only previous experience with humans was getting captured and muzzled and thrown in a cage and drugged by them? Wasn't her throwing Hiccup right out of his saddle an attempt to rescue Toothless from him because she thought that humans were all bad at the time due to her experiences? Oh no I guess it's just because she's so ~wild~ my mistake.

And yep in the end they let her save Hiccup and at least show some small amount of affection towards him. Had to attempt to make her at least somewhat likeable I suppose. (Too bad that little bit of character growth is undone two minutes later when she's literally the first dragon to leave, and in Homecoming when she gets upset about Toothless trying to tell their kids about his pal Hiccup.)

[e-wills-afterhours]

Pretentious Coffee, Chapter 6

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Hiccstrid

------

The first thing Astrid noticed was how clean and organized Hiccup’s bedroom was compared to the rest of the house. His carpet was spotless, unlike the living room and hallway floors sporting questionable stains. The second thing she noticed was Hiccup shutting the door behind him, muffling the party until the blood pounding in Astrid’s ears easily drowned out the rhythmic bass beats.

She was anxious, but she wanted it—to be alone in that room with a guy she hardly knew, open to just about anything that transpired between them. One bottle of beer was not enough to obscure her judgment and completely level her inhibitions. It was her decision alone to take the risk, not the alcohol.

She was not acting like her usual self, but her usual self had not done her too many favors. Life as expected had left her bored, miserable, and stewing over years wasted.

Wasted on what?

She had been certain once, but she didn’t know anymore.

The only clear thing was Hiccup, crossing the room in those sweatpants, like he paraded around that way in front of strange girls on the regular.

He pulled out his desk chair. “I hope you like dogs,” he stated in a manner that more implied she had better like dogs.

Astrid furrowed her brow, confused. “I—yeah. I mean, sure. I like them. Why?”

No sooner had the question fallen from her lips when something stirred on the bed, and she nearly yelped, taking a step back. Her nerves had made her initially blind to the large, black German shepherd curled up on the dark comforter.

The dog raised his head, seeming to eye her with equal wariness. In his stare was something wild and intelligent, reminiscent of his untamed ancestors.

“Allow me to introduce you to Toothless,” Hiccup said, his voice saturated with fondness. “It’s usually just him and me around here. Tuffnut’s often sequestered in his room, doing God knows what, and Snotlout is hardly ever home unless there’s a party. I would guess he was studying on campus if I didn’t already know he hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together.”

Astrid nodded distractedly, eyes locked on Toothless and the way he sniffed at the air, like he could smell her trepidation.

“It’s okay. He won’t bite you,” Hiccup said, joining his dog on the bed. He scratched Toothless behind the ear and added, “Unless you give him a reason.”

“I can’t imagine I would,” she replied.

“He, uh, well…he never liked Heather much.”

Astrid grinned. “Smart boy.”

Hiccup chuckled and gazed up at her expectantly, making her bristle.

Was it some kind of test? A screening process, perhaps? Did she really have to appease his dog before he would get any closer to her?

She stared down at the inquisitive animal, hoping that Hiccup was not the kind of owner who was in denial of his own pet’s temperament. Too many people got injured that way.

Toothless’s ears were perked up, and his muzzle was smooth and relaxed, not wrinkled back to bare what was surely an impressive set of fangs. Knowing the tiny bit about Hiccup that she did, the name “Toothless” was likely in jest.

It was very fitting.

Astrid took a deep, inaudible breath and held out her hand, praying that if the dog took a snap at her, he’d at least leave her with a few fingers intact. Thankfully, she did not tremble, betraying her fear. It would have been a blow to her dignity—a side of her she was not ready for Hiccup to see.

She needed to come across as confident and collected, to project a “don’t screw with me attitude” that would ensure Hiccup didn’t knowingly, or unknowingly, take advantage of her recent vulnerabilities. She was treading in new waters, far out of her comfort zone. It was exhilarating, but she didn’t want to get swept away in the undertow—that  heady rush of the new and drastically different. She was still Astrid Hofferson, and her knees buckled for no one. She swooned for no one. She was not the type to be seduced, and in all honesty, there was nothing about Hiccup that could be described as particularly sexual.

The way he carried himself was less flirtatious womanizer and more unassuming, highly intellectual introvert. His physique didn’t turn heads. That voice wouldn’t make girls shudder with desire. In all likelihood, his demeanor would sooner earn him a slap in the face than a phone number.

And yet, after being stuck in dead end relationship with the kind of jock every girl seemed to chase, Astrid wanted Hiccup’s unique appeal for reasons that didn’t entirely make sense, beyond the fact he seemed to fit perfectly into a void that needed filling. It didn’t matter, though. She had thought too hard about relationships for too long, and she was prepared to fall into his gravity.

Consequences could be dealt with later.

Astrid pursed her lips, feeling awkward with her hand outstretched for a non-compliant dog. “Is he just going to stare at me, or…?”

Toothless was undoubtedly powerful, with substantial bulk beneath his glossy coat, and he seemed happy to make her squirm, taking a brief eternity to consider her.

Finally, a large, wet tongue graced her hand from palm to fingertip. Both she and Hiccup smiled when the Toothless nudged her. Whatever reservations she had toward the dog melted.

“Oh, Toothless, you’re not so bad, huh?” She sat on the other side of him, scratching at his thick neck with both hands. “You’re not so bad!”

It registered with a sudden jolt to the gut that she was on Hiccup’s bed. There was an inherent suggestiveness to it, regardless of what unfolded. Or didn’t.

Toothless rolled onto his side, shamelessly drawing up his leg to better expose his chest. His tail thumped against the bedding.

Hiccup seemed satisfied, even a little relieved. Astrid was optimistic she had just earned his favor. After all, Toothless had not been so welcoming to his owner’s previous girlfriend. She already had a leg up on Heather.

“Well, that settles it,” Hiccup said, leaning back on his hands. He glanced down at his dog and shook his head with pity.

“Settles what?” Astrid asked, humoring Toothless and rubbing his chest and belly.

“I don’t have to kick you out,” he teased.

Astrid snorted. “Good thing. Think of all the ex-hating gossip you’d miss out on.”

“Hm. So, this is all about badmouthing Eret and Heather in private, sharing secrets and giggling about all their intolerable quirks? Wonderful. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a teenage girl,” he quipped.

Astrid shot him a sardonic stare and he laughed, lighting up the space around him again, like he had back in the kitchen.

She could get used to it—his unusual sense of humor, their playful exchanges, and the secondhand happiness she absorbed just by being near him. Once she got past the somewhat off-putting first impression, there was something about Hiccup that was infectious—unconventionally charismatic.

His smile faded, replaced with a compassionate furrow of his brow and an uninvited hand on her knee that woke every nerve in her lower half.

He said, “In all seriousness, I’m sorry for what Eret put you through—not that it’s really much consolation, one jilted lover to another.”

His voice was as soft as the contact, hovering just over the line of innocent and acceptable.

“It’s fine,’ Astrid replied, trying to make her brain focus more on the conversation than his touch, assaulting her senses despite its gentleness. “I—thank you, by the way—I figured you’re the only person I know who actually gets it.”

Hiccup nodded and Astrid once again appreciated the understanding, though the circumstances were not ideal. She didn’t have to explain herself or show more of her wounds than was absolutely necessary. Hiccup knew they were there, but he was not interested in making her show them off, to give words to the bitterness that they shared.

“If I had only known, I would’ve given you free coffee that day. I wouldn’t have given you a hard time,” he said.

It was as close to an apology she would likely ever get for his behavior in the shop, but Astrid found she didn’t need one.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t know how to do anything else,” she teased.

Hiccup’s eyebrow quirked up and Astrid decided it was endearing.

Everything, from his freckles to the gap in his teeth, to his inexplicably magnetic wiry frame, hit the right notes. Maybe it was because she was desperate and delusional, swayed by rebound goggles that made any man that wasn’t Eret potentially worth a lay?

But surely there was a wealth of options besides a sarcastic coffee barista, yet she had zeroed in on him.

“I’m full of surprises, I’ll have you know,” Hiccup retorted with a mock-scowl. He started counting off with his fingers. “I’m a pretty decent mechanic.”

“Ohh,” Astrid hummed with a playful shimmy of her shoulders. “How irresistible.”

Hiccup grinned and continued, “I can make my own pizza, I’ve seen every episode of Doctor Who…”

He rambled off a few more things, but Astrid wasn’t listening. She was watching his lips instead of hearing the words they spoke. She was mesmerized by the upturn of his lips and the exuberance in his voice. The way the brightness of his smile extended to his eyes made her own recently burdened heart feel lighter. She wanted to card through his hair—a rich auburn—that sat in a sort of organized mess atop his head, fanning out over his ears.

Her gaze continued to his jawline, sharp and defined, unlike Eret’s rather broad structure. He was sporting the beginnings of facial hair, likely the result of shutting himself away from Snotlout and Tuffnut for the weekend. It only complimented him, and Astrid wondered what it might feel like to graze along her cheek.

She suppressed a shudder. Never before had she thought so sensually about a man—not even when she had been so certain she loved Eret.

She didn’t have any serious feelings for Hiccup, of course. She hardly knew him, and that would’ve been ridiculous.

No.

It was an attraction in the rawest sense of the word. A need, not to feel whole or complete like a dime store romance novel might suggest, but to connect with someone; to get the most out of life.

If she didn’t make a move, the missed opportunity would be a nagging reminder in the back of her head. It was about peace of mind and taking the bull by the horns. She didn’t want to wonder about him; about them; about what they could be in the confines of those sparsely decorated four walls. She could be bold, for no other reason than to simply know and—after weeks of sulking—experience something positive.

She could kiss him.

“…I actually have a sketchbook,” Hiccup admitted. “I could show you if you’re into that sort of—“

And kiss him, she did.

His lips tightened beneath hers and his whole body stiffened, and a flash of panic crossed Astrid’s mind.

Maybe she had misread him? Maybe she had assumed too much?

She grasped at a suitable apology, anticipating Hiccup’s quick break away…

But he did not recoil. His mouth twitched against hers in bewilderment.

Astrid leaned in, hands folded in her lap, hoping to reassure him that it wasn’t some kind of mistake; that she didn’t accidentally fall on his lips. She was asking if it was alright. A little after the fact, but she would take it no further without reciprocation.

Hiccup got the message. When his wide eyes fluttered closed, there came the warmth and gentle pressure of him kissing back.

The weight in Astrid’s chest lifted. She couldn’t even remember the last time she and Eret had been affectionate. It felt like eons ago.

“I guess engineering sketches really do it for you, huh?” Hiccup chuckled against her lips.

“Shut up,” she retorted, snaking a hand up his long torso to tangle in his hair.

It was every bit as soft and pleasant to the touch as she hoped it would be.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Toothless, down.”

Astrid pulled back as the dog nearly sandwiched between them leapt down from the bed. He was rather indignant about it, flopping down on a deflated pillow with a dramatic groan. Hiccup rolled his eyes. Toothless stared back at him, and he scoffed; an entire nonverbal conversation playing out between them.

Yes, it was a very good thing Astrid liked dogs. Hiccup seemed particularly connected to his.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He thinks he owns the place.”

“Spoiled, huh? Whose fault is that?” Astrid smirked.

“Ahaha, yeah…” Hiccup trailed off as she inched closer, her knee pressing against his thigh. They leaned forward simultaneously, the momentum between them was dizzying. “He really is a good…mmm.”

“Dog” was muffled, lost in the slow melding of their lips.

Astrid’s fingertips mapped his jaw, tickled by stubble on the return journey to his hair. She twisted russet strands idly as things escalated. Warm and tender kissing gave way to deeper, open-mouthed drinking of one another.

It was a little awkward, trying to learn new contours while avoiding the scrape of teeth. Hiccup tilted his head, and the new angle was better. Each hot, moist breath they shared stoked the fire growing in Astrid. It fueled a hunger she had never felt so earnestly. Even the simple, loose curl of his hands over her shoulders was scintillating.

He heightened her senses and re-calibrated her body to his touch.

She moved closer to him, capturing his top lip between her own. His grip tightened, sliding down her arms to settle at her waist. She felt the subtle twitch of his hands, wanting her closer without demanding it of her—also a departure from the rougher, grabbier sex she was used to. There was something to be said for the slow burn and exploration, enjoying the journey as much as the destination.

She had not been aware sex was compatible with manners, never giving it much thought. But, she was glad it was.

A simple brush of tongues made her feel like her heart would explode. It was already racing beneath her ribs, fit to burst like contents under pressure. The bolder she became, the more Hiccup responded in kind. The occasional breath was all that could part them before their mouths crashed together again. Both of them were looking for release—a satisfaction that had been denied for long enough.

They needed something more than what they had known.

Astrid grasped at Hiccup’s shirt, falling back against his bed and taking him with her. He landed on his hands, propping himself up, though their lower halves were pressed together. Whoops.

She could feel the beginning of his arousal against her thigh, through his pants. Her own desire spiked wildly and her patience waned. She bit her lip, gazing up at Hiccup with as pointed a stare as she could manage.

In spite of everything—their good rapport and trajectory of lust—he seemed taken aback by her obvious interest.

“Y-yeah?” he asked, a faltering smile conveyed his giddy disbelief. “Really? Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m flattered, but if this is just because—“

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Astrid sighed, grasping the hem of her sweater.

“Yes, on multiple occasions. Nervous habit.”

She paused, cocking her head. “I’m making you nervous?” she replied.

With a wiggle of her eyebrows, she exposed the tiniest bit of skin of her abdomen to titillate him.

“This whole situation has caught me a little off-guard,” Hiccup confessed. “I mean…I don’t even know your name.”

Astrid felt like she had been walloped by a ton of bricks. She quickly scanned her memory and, indeed, she had never bothered to divulge that information.

How cliché of a college party hookup—and they were not even intoxicated.

Her hands shot to her mouth. “Oh my God! You’re right! It didn’t even cross my mind! I just assumed I had told you at some point.”

“You see, only one of us ever had the name badge,” Hiccup said. “It’s an honest mistake.” Astrid laughed and his soft chuckle mingled with it. He shook his head. “I’m all for unorthodoxy, but…”

“Astrid,” she replied, hands falling against the bed,exasperated with herself. “My name’s Astrid Hofferson.”

And she felt like the world’s biggest dunce. He smiled.

“Astrid,” he repeated, testing the way it rolled off his tongue. “I’m Hiccup Haddock. Pleased to meet you.”

“Properly,” she added.

“Right, and now that we got that out of the way…”

Astrid rolled her eyes and grabbed the hem of her sweater again. She pulled it off and threw it on the floor, cursing herself for not picking more exciting underwear—the pair with the polkadots and lace. Things were not unfolding in the way she had predicted when she had left her dorm earlier in the evening. She did not think, for even a moment, she would be lying beneath Hiccup, hot and bothered, and ready to part with some of her long-held moral scruples.

But there she was—and there he was, admiring her shirtless form. He was not the least bit phased by her old, rather dull bra.

He touched her with a warm, gentle hand on the curve of her bare waist. It was a shock to her system, unfurling an almost agonizing heat beneath her skin. His thumb stroked idly just beneath her ribs. It was intimate, but restrained. Every step forward was reintroducing her body to sensations that she had been missing deep beneath the surface layers of anger and wounded pride.

“You know, Eret’s an idiot,” Hiccup commented, running his hand over her tense abdomen.

She relaxed instantly at his tenderness.

“I keep hoping he’ll have an epiphany and realize that,” Astrid huffed.

“Would you take him back if he did?”

It was a loaded question. She could tell by the earnestness in eyes, and suddenly, things were more than casual “getting over it” sex. That night, in that bed, with that particular lanky coffee barista, things were pivotal. Greater forces were at work besides the carnal urges of young adults. She couldn’t give it a name yet, but she felt some kind of cosmic realignment hinging upon her answer.

“No,” she said, brief but resolute.

Eret was a chapter in her life with a definite end, and she was finally voicing it aloud. There would be no revisiting it; she wasn’t just using Hiccup in the interim.

“Good.”

He kissed her again with the same passion, undeterred by the interlude.

Astrid pulled at his shirt and it came off in an instant. They were a tangle of limbs, bare skin, and busy mouths.

Hiccup was much thinner that Eret, but with definition that was uniquely his own. There was an understated power to his back and shoulders that Astrid could appreciate.

She arched up, deftly unhooking her bra with one hand. Keeping the blush from her pale cheeks, she tossed it to the floor to join the pile of unwanted clothing.

Hiccup was accomplishedly ambidextrous, cradling the base of her head in one hand, weaving his fingers in her hair. His other hand fondled her breast, inherently knowing how she like to be touched…

Probably because that’s how Heather liked to be touched, and how Eret was caressing her at night—but Astrid smothered the thought.

Her brain was divided. There were too many pleasurable sensations all at once. Hiccup’s lips ghosting over her neck gave her goosebumps. Every breath they drew pressed their chests together, all the while skilled fingers toyed with a nipple like it was second nature. Their hearts were mirror images, beating in tandem, and the final shred of her awareness was dedicated to the obvious need in Hiccup’s pants.

His mouth latched on her neck, alternating between sucking and a graze of teeth. He was in no hurry; deliberate in effort but languid in pace. He caressed the other breast, and she filled up his palm like they were lock and key.

Everywhere their bodies met was seamless, like some grand hint that they were meant to be entwined. It was an absurd notion, but Astrid still moaned softly at sweep of a tongue along the line of her neck.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and she whispered a tremulous apology. Hiccup breathed reassurances against her skin. His lips fluttered along her pulse—that was the kind of warmth that lingered, leaving her nerves charged and thrumming down to the very epicenter of desire.

“Please,” she murmured; it was a simple and quiet request.

She wouldn’t beg him and she knew he wouldn’t ask her to.

His kisses continued to her collarbone before hesitating the on swell of her breast. Green eyes flickered up to meet hers, and her skin protested when he withdrew his lips.

“I will do whatever you want,” he told her. “I can be pretty agreeable at times.”

Heat pooled between her legs as she imagined quite a few things—mainly, other places he could put his mouth—but their encounter was not the adventurousness of established lovers. What she needed from him, in that moment, was to satisfy a persistent itch.

“Still working hard for that tip, I see,” she teased.

He laughed. “Always.”

“I’m not looking for anything extraordinary, Hiccup.”

Not that she wasn’t already filing away excuses to see him again…

She hadn’t been physical with anyone since days before things had ended rather abruptly with Eret. Sex with Hiccup could be a drawn out experience later. At that moment, it was an obstacle to overcome, to prove to herself there was more that life had to offer—more that she was worthy of.

“What’s wrong with extraordinary?” Hiccup replied, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“Ha,” Astrid retorted dryly. “Just…tonight’s not the night for it, I think.”

She could almost see the cogs turning in his head, figuring her out. He wasn’t upset or annoyed that she wanted to keep things brief. His face was full of that same curiosity he often wore around her, like she was a puzzle he longed solve.

“Not tonight? As in, there could be more nights to come?” he asked, trying to keep his face placid, though he was less successful at suppressing the hope in his voice.

“Isn’t that the point of good service? You garner repeat customers,” she answered.

He chuckled and conceded, “Okay. You win. Just a second…”

He rolled off of her and stood up, rummaging around in the nightstand. Astrid took the opportunity to shed her boots and socks, scrambling up the bed as he turned back around. There was a small, foil packet in his hand and she could’ve smacked herself for the lack of forethought.

At least Hiccup considered those kinds of things.

She didn’t know where her mind was, but it was nowhere in the realm of common sense.

Hiccup gave her an almost bashful sort of grin, like amorous kissing and groping was nothing worth batting an eye over, but contraception was suddenly too risque.

Astrid, however, was more preoccupied with the fact the condom had most likely been intended for Heather.

Once.

She wiggled out of her jeans as his sweatpants hit the floor. He, apparently, didn’t wear anything beneath his lounge clothes—a detail worth remembering.

Her eyes did a quick dart to his naked body and back, trying not to stare. She was so used to Eret that she had taken the male form for granted, but Hiccup made her want to ogle and admire like it was the first time. She wondered if there was any real etiquette about that sort of thing. It had been so long since sex had felt new.

Her eyes settled on the ceiling as Hiccup crawled back into bed. She hooked her thumbs in her underwear, pulling it down while keep her thighs as close together as possible—not that modesty would count for much in a minute.

“Are you alright?” Hiccup asked. “We don’t have to do this.”

The fact that he had no expectations, even though they were both naked and poised, made her more certain that yes, she really did have to do this—because the timing was right, and he was right, and how ungrateful would she be to pass up what the Universe had so carefully arranged?

It was more than coincidence she had agreed to accompany Ruffnut to the party, and that Hiccup lived in the very same house. What were the odds he would have come out of his room the same time Astrid had retreated indoors? Eret and Heather’s arrival has actually been quite fortuitous—the final push Hiccup and Astrid needed to connect on a deeper level than playful banter alone.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, flashing him a confident smile. It was fine, because she was neither nervous nor vulnerable to any degree Hiccup needed to know.

“Are you stalling?” she replied.

His face fell flat. “Yes,” he answered sarcastically, “because I love long chats right before I get down to business. Really builds up the anticipation. It’s not like I’m urgently hard or anything.”

Astrid laughed and buried a hand in his hair, guiding their mouths together again. The kiss was sweet and comforting, their lips brushing and holding, as a shared breath lingered thickly between them. Astrid could taste him in the air with a hint of herself in the relish she left behind.

Somewhere, a foil packet was torn, but she barely registered it over the sensual movement of thin lips over her own.

But no kiss could distract from the hand roaming over the curve of her thigh.

She crashed back to reality, granting him permission with a nod and anxious twist of her stomach—the kind of virginal jitters she never thought she’d feel again.

She anticipated a quick contact, but Hiccup only settled between her legs with measured patience. His arms came around her as their kiss deepened, and she grew accustomed to the weight of him.

She could feel everything—the ardent pulse of her need echoed by the throbbing of rigid flesh in the crease of her groin. She drew her legs up in a sort of intimate embrace, her thighs resting against his hips.

Hiccup pulled back enough to hold her gaze in tender manner that brought the color to her cheeks, more so than his deliberate rubbing against shamelessly wet folds. She imagined he might’ve told her he loved her then, had they been anywhere close to such feelings. Heather had seen that same look and heard those three meaningful words, and yet she discarded all of it without a shred of decency.

Their exes were idiots and they deserved each other.

Astrid curled up, burying her face in Hiccup’s shoulder as he sank into her. It was a few seconds that teetered on the edge of an eternity.

It was different—new friction in new places—as every inch was an unexpected sensation, an unfamiliar length with an unfamiliar thickness. Her body was both delighted and confused, satisfied and alarmed, as years of the same old routine was replaced by a new and unpredictable pleasure.

It was amazing. It was bliss. A tiny voice in the back of her mind dared to whisper it was better.

Hiccup agreed, if his moan was any indication. Astrid could get used to that sound—primal and gratified. it was good and it was right.

Her breath hitched when his hips surged forward with purposeful rhythm. She wrapped herself around him fully, using her crossed ankles to encourage deeper thrusts by pushing down against his ass. She couldn’t get enough of him, and he complied by increasing his pace and vigor.

Astrid’s head fell back against the pillow with euphoria. It felt like they had done it all before. After some initial correction, they moved together effortlessly, rocking to meet each other with mutual pleasure. They sighed together, like a sensual harmony.

She grasped at his hair—the easiest thing to hold onto—and his hand found their way between them. She arched up at the first skilled pulse of his fingers against her clit.

Everything was searing heat and perfect friction, burning away any remaining doubt that she had made a good decision. Hiccup’s skin felt as feverish as her own, gliding over her abdomen and encircling her as they clung together with more desperation.

Minutes flitted by without notice, and Astrid couldn’t care less if they carried on until daybreak. She wanted release, but she never wanted it to stop. It was sex as it was meant to be: more than just the empty mechanics of it. She had always enjoyed the act itself, but Hiccup was taking her to ecstatic new heights.

She was arching into him, and he was driving her down against the sheets; over and over, harder and deeper, while they clung to each other like vices. The room was full of rapturous moans and soft gasps.

Astrid squeezed him as his talented fingers struck up sparks to ignite already slick heat. The tension coiling below her navel finally snapped, throwing her into a blank state of wonderful, where every nerve tingled, and every hair stood on end. She was no more responsible for what spilled from her lips than she was for the automatic grinding of her hips against Hiccup’s unrelenting hardness.

Maybe she said his name, and if she did, she hoped Eret had overheard. Then again, he was quickly dissolving into a vague shadow of a person, and she couldn’t recall why she even cared what he thought.

Hiccup was the only man who mattered. Her toes were curling, and he was the reason. She was enveloped by his scent and his warmth, melting beneath him as he drove through her orgasm with every thrust.

How long had it been since she had a really good climax?

Hiccup wasn’t far behind her, grasping her hips as came. It was the first possessive gesture he had displayed all night, only when overcome by a carnality he couldn’t restrain. He moaned into the bend of her neck, seeming to climb her body with each wave of release, rubbing against her overstimulated sex, drawing unabashed whimpers from her throat as delightful aftershocks coursed through her.

Hot. Damn.

The world was still spinning, but there were no fireworks, and no triumphant horn blaring out their victory. There was only the two of them, naked and panting. Residual tingles and sweat were all they had to show for their efforts, but they shared exhausted, identical smiles. A few soft kisses punctuated everything, and their fingers entwined as Hiccup collapsed beside her.

Still nowhere close to love, they could at least exchange a meaningful gaze. They were, if nothing else, very sated.  It certainly wasn’t a fanfare, but Astrid would take it—a better afterglow than she had ever known.

The mood was only slightly dampened by the unceremonious disposal of the condom. Then, Astrid was curled up against Hiccup, absently connecting the freckles on his chest in invisible shapes with her fingers. He rubbed the small of her back, and maybe they were being too affectionate for a rebound tryst, but Astrid would worry about that in the morning.

“You know,” she murmured, shockingly loud in the wake of such comfortable silence, “I’m glad I took a chance on some pretentious coffee.”

Hiccup laughed and replied, “I’m glad that your not-hangover didn’t deter you from going out again.”

“So, what happens now?” she asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

She wasn’t expecting anything, but she at least needed to know where they stood. Would they share phone numbers? Would they settle for casual, intermittent hookups? Would they simply use a good experience as a springboard into the next relationship?

Hiccup took a long breath, blinking up at the ceiling. His lips pursed as he considered the options.

“Well, I know you don’t care much for coffee, but there’s a diner near here open twenty-four hours. They make good milkshakes, if you care to give it a shot.”

Astrid’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you…asking me on a date?”

He shrugged. “I know we’re doing things a bit backwards, but I did say I’m no stranger to unorthodoxy.”

“Milkshakes, though? In the winter?”

“I, uh…I mean, it was just an idea,” he backpedaled. “I’m not assuming that you—“

She smirked and bent over, interrupting him with a kiss and stifling that nervous habit.

“I’ll take milkshakes over terrible coffee any day.”

And so their first date was set.

[ubuntuify]

Owe Me Nothing by Yours Truly

(AO3)

“Why did you leave?”

Hiccup didn’t really know what to say to that. There were a lot of reasons, really. Toothless was just the breaking point. He’d spent so much time running, thinking life would be better on Berk without him—he didn’t really think on the why he left.

“I don’t know,” he replied simply.

—

“Shut up, Hiccup, you owe me this.”

“I don’t owe you anything—”

“For kidnapping me, remember?” At that mention, he was silenced. It was peaceful, deceivingly so. If they both didn’t know better, it might have been domestic.

The silence however instead was just left with everything that could be. Everything that could’ve been.

She looked particularly soft in this limelight. Her eyes sparkled with a sense of innocence, something untainted yet untamable. Like a river with no end. It was everything Hiccup could’ve wanted.

It was also everything Hiccup loathed, in a sort of looking back kind of way. She reminded him too much of Berk, of the unsustainable suffocation that came with it. With the disdain he noticed before everything.

And she just had to ruin it by saying something, didn’t she?

“Why did you leave?”

Hiccup didn’t really know what to say to that. There were a lot of reasons, really. Toothless was just the breaking point.

He’d spent so much time running, thinking life would be better on Berk without him—he didn’t really think on the why he left.

“I don’t know,” he replied simply.

It feels like both a step in the right direction and the wrong one. He had spent so long running away from that life, it felt like losing. It felt too much like the feeling he had spent running away from.

Or more accurately, flying away from.

None of them wanted to say anything anymore, in fear of ruining what peace this moment held. Tomorrow, he was sure that they’d be at each other throats again, sparring over whatever small issue they had that day.

They had to live together now, didn’t they?

They couldn’t go back anymore. It felt wrong to think that to Hiccup though. To him, Astrid had always been the better of the two of them.

She was always the image of the perfect Shieldmaiden. Something so far, something untouchable.

Everything about this moment felt wrong, but also felt so right. “Why don’t you want to go back?”

Hiccup wanted to laugh derisively at the comment. Instead, he just stayed silent. He was aged the same amount as she was, and while she stayed the same.. somewhat.

He had grown, he had used his wits, the ones that he was mocked for, and thought about it critically.

He found that in the moments where they weren’t sparring each other with the nearest weapon, or whatever could constitute as one. He would listen to anything she’d say.

Even after all these years, he was still smitten by her—by the power she carried with her, with everything—the unlimited and unending bliss that was a person.

Except hers felt wider, more full, something indescribable. Something he didn’t want to define for himself just in case he’d break the illusion.

“I don’t know.”

“After all these years, you really still are an idiot, huh, Hiccup?”

He would be insulted, if he didn’t hear the unmistakable fondness that came with, not like the cruel remarks of his peers, of those back on Berk.

“I guess I am.”

For the first time in a really long time, he smiled. It wasn’t the forced smiles he put up with with the rest of everyone. Not like the seriousness he did when he went around as the Dragon Conqueror or whatever name they gave him in that area of the sea.

Astrid felt the need to support him. It was some old instinctive, maybe even stupid instinct in her. Something old and that never really died as she grew into who she was today.

Something the bitterness of the world could not take from her. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she did it anyway.

It felt like a hidden force was driving her. It felt elusive, like a drive to do something, it felt like the feeling of being drunk but on something else.

“You don’t owe them anything, you know?”

“What?”

“You don’t owe anyone on Berk anything.” She didn’t really know what she was saying anymore, maybe it was some hidden bitterness within her from being offered as sacrifice, maybe it was something else, but she felt the need to say something.

“I know that,” he said, but she didn’t believe him at all. There was a small crack in his voice, something—a small look into the boy she knew all that time ago.

And she couldn’t help but wonder what could have been, if he would’ve become better under the village’s tutelage, if they cared enough to see what they were doing in place of cruel jokes, which while she never participated she was definitely complacent in.

“You don’t owe anything to them either,” he whispered back.

She didn’t dain that with a response as he threw something into her. A storm that was brewing for a long time already.

Discontent perhaps. Or maybe she saw into the broken and wretched hearts within Berk, something that Hiccup’s death worsened.

Where all the cracks started growing leaving something ugly in its wake.

The Berk they both grew up in was long gone by now, or maybe it never existed. And a small part of her, no matter how small, wanted to give in to the promise of that. The promise Hiccup offered.

Running away.

But another part of her, the one that was a sharpened mind, with everything she held dear, didn’t want to do that.

They had a chance now. The fight in her about this particular topic was fading, her hatred of dragons simmering into something more sensible, something softer.

The same sentiment that Hiccup shared.

The same sentiment that drove him to do all the things he did.

She just didn’t know what that meant for her. She didn’t know if that meant she was just like him, a person who abandoned her home for ideals.

Something, even if she did see the value in, she promised she would never do.

Hiccup may have been in the skies, but she was on the ground. Hiccup may have seen, but he didn’t see what was going on like she did.

“I’m sorry.”

And she didn’t know what she was sorry for, but she knew she was sorry.

They didn’t speak a word after, only getting beside each other and holding each other until it was morning, before everything started again.

[kitmon]

And a Half-Elf in a Pine Tree | Eddie Munson x SingleMom!Reader

Summary: There's not much time for holiday festivities over at the Munson residence, so when you ask Eddie to help set up your Christmas tree, he's quick to agree, never one to pass up an opportunity to hang out with his beautiful neighbor and her adorable daughter.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: fluff, cursing, mentions and allusions to impoverished living, it's always implied in my fics that the reader is Latina and in my head she is but I never include physical description so this is accessible to all, she speaks like two words in Spanish

Author’s Note: Some Christmas content! I love Christmas, mostly because it's very close to my birthday but also just because I love the ambiance, it's very comforting and I tried to emulate that with this fic. First time ever writing SingleMom!Reader but I definitely enjoyed it. I loved writing the dynamic between reader and her daughter and I'd love to write more if it was asked for (but it'd probably take me a while since I'm incredibly backed up with school)! And, of course, my lovely darling @queenimmadolla beta read this and did a lovely job as usual! I love you, bae! Anyways, please enjoy and happy holidays!

“Eddie!” You scold, though it’s lessened by the amusement that sugars your voice. “Why did you buy the biggest tree you could find?”

You lift your hand to try and conceal your giggling and the telltale sign of your uninhibited smile as Eddie grunts and whines, struggling to pull the bulky pine through the small opening of your doorway. 

“It’s not big!” He exclaims in a huff, losing his grip on the trunk as the tree slides the few treads down your front steps, miffing the minimal progress he had made. He sighs and plants his gloved hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath, “It’s full!”

“Yeah, Mama!” The chirpy voice gathers your attention as your daughter bounds forward, sliding off the couch and tossing the action figure and the dress-up doll she’d been making conversation with to the side. She crashes into the back of your leg and wraps her arms around your thigh as a bright toothless smile presses her chubby cheeks. “It’s foo!”

Your lips tick up as you look down at her, still dressed in her bulky snowsuit overalls and a Mickey Mouse jumper, her midnight curls a wild fray of flyaways and loose strands, even when kept in two pigtails. You pat her bangs out of her eyes and tuck her untamed eartails behind the shell of her ear. 

Eddie’s gone back to playing tug of war with the evergreen and, though you’d never say it to his face, he was losing horribly.

“Sheena gets it,” he calls out, puffing his cheeks and cinching his brows as he puts all his weight into leaning back on his heels. “It’s a beautiful tree,” his strained voice insists.

“That’s besides the point.” As your eye’s rake over the pine, baffled by the sheer size of it, something finally strikes you. “And I only gave you 30 dollars! How did you pay for this?” Eddie’s body seizes and his ministrations cease for a moment as he rolls his lips in towards his teeth and focuses his gaze on the ground, chancing a peripheral glance your way before shyly refocusing his efforts on the tree, muttering, “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You sigh through your nose as you shake your head, an entertained smile painting your lips. 

“Alright,” you wave your hand and raise your voice, taking a step forward as Sheena’s hands slip from where she held you, “this obviously isn’t working and watching your pride be tested by a fir is bringing down my holiday spirit.”

He stands and props his hands on his lower back, watching as you walk past and begin toeing on your soiled once-white Keds, now painted with years of wear. He licks his lips before he dejectedly corrects you, “It’s a pine tree.” Your eyebrows tick up and you lift your deadpan gaze to meet his eyes as you slip your heel into the sneaker. “Not a fir.”

“Just pull the damn tree, Munson,” you instruct as you sidestep your way out the door.

“Yup, yeah. Got it,” he obeys, pursing his lips.

You ready yourself at the back, crouching down and pressing your fingers into the thick bulk of the tree while Eddie tries to find you, peeking over the dense growth of needles and branches, only managing to identify a few wisps of your hair. 

“Okay, on ‘three,’ you pull and I push, got that?” You instruct, shouting to be heard even through the barrier of green and over the rabble of the radio that blares Christmas classics inside.

“Got it,” Eddie calls back.

“One.” Your knees bend and you try to be mindful of the ice that’s scattered, hidden beneath mud-sullied snow.

“Two.” Eddie’s readjusting his grip on the sap-sticky, crumbly trunk.

“Three!” Progress stalls for a second before you’re climbing up the stairs in uncoordinated, hurried steps, Eddie tripping over his feet as he falls back, suddenly half-crushed by the plant as you fall past the threshold and land in an itchy, prodding heap.

You groan a bit, Sheena’s laughter the first sound that registers as you lift your head and find her cackling a gasping unhinged hyena’s laugh, clapping her hands and bouncing on her calves as she makes a spectacle out of you and Eddie.

“What are you laughing at?” You upbraid with an exasperated smile, your hair roused as pine needles infiltrate the wool of your sweater. Sheena sits and uses both her hands to poorly disguise her snickering, her glowing eyes crinkling as she stares at the two of you. “Not even gonna help Mama?” You chide, “What are you good for?”

Your laugh filters through the air as Eddie comes to; a dazed, tired voice announcing, “Can’t wait ‘till after New Years when we get to do this all again.”

You smack the thicket of foliage at the base of the tree away with your hand so you can see his addled face. “I hate you,” you speak with a smile that betrays the harsh nature of your words.

He lifts his head to counter, “That’s not what Sheena tells me, sweetheart.”

You release a cheated gasp, directing your stare towards your daughter. “What have you been telling him, you traitor?” 

She titters a maniacal sound as she hops off the couch and runs into her room to assuredly hide under the safety of her comforters and quilts. You begin steadying yourself over the uneven plane of tree parts, accidentally stepping over Eddie once or twice, wincing a hurried apology before you’re free and chasing after your two-timing child.

“Hey! Where are you going?” He calls after the two of you but as it becomes clear that you’ve both disappeared down the hall, he lets his head fall against your shag carpet.

After Sheena was thoroughly tickled, the layers of her bedding wrinkled and jumbled with your combined writhing, you lift her up high, her fingers almost able to graze the low ceiling of your trailer, before bringing her back down to your chest where she clings to you like a gracious monkey. You carry her with you back into the den where Eddie’s barely disentangled himself from the burden of the tree, shaking his arms and shoulders, patting down the front of his pants to remove the needles and the debris that’s been transferred onto him. You approach him mildly, bringing your hand that was splayed over Sheena’s back to pick and comb through Eddie’s tresses, extracting the twigs that he missed and flicking them to the ground along with the unpleasant mess of other tree bits that you dread having to clean later.

“Sorry for abandoning you,” you apologize while removing another sprig from his curls. “Had to teach the little one what happens to renegadas pequeñas.” You emphasize your words with a scrunched nose that you bring close to nudge against her own button one, a flurry of fingers that you tease her with, ready to attack with a jab at her side at any moment.

He smiles at the two of you and can’t find it in him to be upset, “Don’t worry about it. You did what had to be done, Captain.” He delivers a faux salute and you shake your head at him.

“Your head doing okay, though?” You ask while reaching your hand out to caress just below his crown where he’d knocked his head a few moments ago. “That tree got you good,” you tease.

“Yeah, m’doing fine,” he assures, taking your wrist into his hand and rubbing the soft, tendon-stretched skin of it with his thumb. “Might just need to lay in the snow for a few minutes to help the swelling go down,” he jests with a cocky smile.

You roll your eyes at him before turning to place Sheena back on the couch, snatching her Care Bear from where it’s fallen on the floor to wave it in front of her. Her eyes light up at the mint-green bear and she reaches for it, yourself handing the plush over to her gladly. She cuddles the bear for a moment before reaching her other hand out for the He-Man figure that Eddie so generously donated to her toy box. She speaks gibberish to the doll before turning it to her bear where she speaks more unintelligible English and shakes her two toys to simulate their conversation. You smile at her and lean down to land a peck over her bang-curtained forehead which she hardly pays any mind to now that she has her very important business to attend to.

When you turn back to Eddie he’s already stood up the tree and closed your front door, finally allowing your three space heaters to garner just a smidgen of heat in your tiny home, the heater having been busted since June, there being hardly any time (or money) to fix it. You help him in securing the plant in its stand, the both of you standing back with a puff of your chests and an earned sigh. Eddie turns to you, his hands slumped against his hips as he sends a cocksure grin your way. You counterback with an unimpressed tilt of your head.

“Don’t look too happy, Einstein,” you warn, pointing up to where the pointed crown of the tree is folded, forced to bow with how short your ceiling is. “It doesn’t fit.”

“Minor setback,” he assures with a trill of his lips and a wave of his hand. He jogs towards the step ladder you’ve propped up near the front door (just in case you’d need it for decorating) and carries it to the tree. He unfolds it with some difficulty and begins climbing it to where he can reach the top. He takes the trunk in his grasp and starts to wrestle with the bush, attempting to break the young, moist fibers.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice laced with placidness as you stare up at him.

“I’m making room,” he grunts, twisting and tugging, “for the star.”

Sheena hugs her Care Bear and He-Man close, nuzzling her color-blotted cheek into the, admittedly, stained acrylic fibers of Bedtime Bear as she simpers and dimples her cheeks with an impish grin. She lifts her head then and figures she’s going to offer moral support, clapping her hands and bouncing on her knees as she shouts, “Go, Teddy! Go!”

“It’s ‘Eddie,’ baby.” You turn to look over your shoulder at her, trying to reinstill it in her mind.

“Teddy!” She shouts, a puerile smile that ruches her nose. You can't find it in you to correct her again.

Eddie shouts a triumphant ‘hurrah’ as he breaks the tree away,  holding his prize as he pants a bit and displays a haughty smile.

He hops down from the ladder, bypassing you—but not before poking your side with the mini-pine—and approaches Sheena.

“I like Teddy,” he construes, beaming down at her as he plops down heavy on the cushion beside her own, sending her into a little jump from the quick weight transfer. “You don’t gotta keep correcting her.” He wiggles the tree in her face, tickling the tip of her nose with the needles at the end. She squeals, shaking her head to fend off his attack before reaching her chubby hands out to grab at the branches and tug on them a little.

“She’s never gonna learn your name.” You take slow steps towards the pair, crouching to be at eye level with your baby. You scratch your index finger over her layered belly, covered by cotton and thick, pillowy trousers but she yelps and captures your hand anyway, playing with your fingers, fascinated by the bendy ligaments.

“I can be Teddy forever.” He grins down at you, a lazy, all too attractive smile that you have to turn away from before it shows stupidly clear on your face all that it does to you.

“You’re both so stubborn,” you sigh as you lift yourself back into a standing position, pulling your hand away from Sheena as she pouts momentarily before rediscovering her stuffie. You cross your arms and walk over to the green storage box stuffed near your record cabinet, ‘X-MAS DECORATIONS’ scrawled across the lid. Eddie smirks after you as you pop the lid off and begin rifling through the jumbled mess of lights, ribbons, and tinsel.

He turns back to Sheena. “You wanna hold onto this for me, little lady?” He shakes the short shrub near her and she nods her head, making room in her occupied arms for the tree, hugging it close despite the irritant of the needles. You watch as you try to neatly wrap the bundle of multi-colored Christmas lights together, the trapping having been tossed crudely into the box last year from your holiday-induced exhaustion, groaning internally as you wonder just how much sap she’ll collect by the end of the night. 

You drop the now orderly ball of lights and reach for a roll of ribbon along with your’s and Sheena’s popcorn-cranberry garland that you stitched together last year (though it was mostly you considering she was hardly comfortable walking at the time let alone handling sharp, easily droppable objects but she ate a lot of popcorn and wrinkled her nose after chewing on a cranberry you offered her and that was enough participation for you to consider it a joint effort).

Now Sheena’s taking her yellow blanket, the one with the satin trimming, and wrapping the stalk of her tree up, tucking it in to “keep it waum.”

While she’s distracted, Eddie stands and stuffs his hands into his back pockets.

Something of yours catches his eye and he asks, “Do you mind if I…?” His words trail off as he points to your cheap acoustic guitar, amateurly propped up against your sound system.

“Not at all,” you encourage as you sift through the reflective strands of tinsel you’ve been searching for, jutting your jaw out to urge him forward as you sport a clement smile.

He bites his tongue cheekily as he swipes the neck and brings it towards Sheena, who’s preening the branches of her pet tree and cooing gentle, unconnected syllables at it. He sits down and situates the guitar over his knee so it’s comfortable, plucking the strings and twisting the keys to produce the chimes of standard tuning.

“Wanna hear a song, pretty girl?” He asks, twisting the key of the little e string.

She nods her head ‘yes’ and scoots closer to Eddie so her knee is touching his thigh.

He strums the strings open, demonstrating the tuned capability of the instrument before clapping his hands over them and halting their vibrations. He’s quick to resituate himself as he begins playing the chords to a familiar Christmas tune.

“I’ll uh-have a-uh blue christmas without you,” he sings with an exaggerated Elvis impression, deepening his voice and adding an indiscernible sort of twang.

You become disinterested in your task for a moment as you turn to find Sheena beaming up at Eddie while he plays. You diffidently fiddle with the shiny material in your hand, looking away to hide the smitten smile you harbor as you begin separating bits of silver, placing them over each branch individually. 

“I’ll be so blue just thinking a-huh-about you.” She giggles that youthful melody and reaches her stubby fingers out to strum the strings to follow Eddie. The notes ring discordantly but he doesn’t mind, only watches her mesmerized face at the way his fingers switch simply up and down the fretboard. “Sing it, baby,” he encourages.

He skips to the chorus and Sheena does her best to follow, “I have a bwoo, bwoo, bwoo, bwoo Chwis’mas.”

She laughs, the sound uncharacteristically timid as Eddie praises her singing chops with an inflated expression of awe, letting his face drop to his usual smile as he continues.

“You’ll be doing alright, with your Christmas of white, but I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas.” His voice peals genuinely as he leans close to Sheena, his smile glowing. She mirrors it and places her hands along the apples of his rosy cheeks, tinted from exertion and the warmth that’s cumulated in your cozy space. He melts under her soft, baby’s touch, eyelids floating shut as he plays the final chord.

She tee-hees a pleasant, delighted noise before tapping her palms over Eddie’s cheeks, causing his face to squinch up as he accepts her tender compliments. She crawls onto her feet and wraps her shortened arms around Eddie’s neck. Her bear’s limb is held snugly in her hand as the toy cascades down his back, the downy material contrasting dulcetly with the worn leather of his coat he hasn’t taken the time to shed. He reciprocates immediately and hugs her tiny frame close with the added difficulty of the guitar between them.

“My little cuddlebug,” he whispers into her ringlets as he sways them a bit.

His features are content as he squeezes her a little tighter, rubbing her back before releasing her.

Eddie can feel the incessant tingle of your stare before he turns and finds you, touched expression and all as you tuck your tinsel-filled fists close to your chest. But, having been caught, you startle and turn back to your work, pretending to have been occupying yourself with the tree the whole time. He chuckles in his throat before turning back to Sheena.

“Wanna go help your Mama with the tree?” He asks, nodding towards you.

“Yes!” She bellows, dismissing him quickly. She hops down from the couch, catching herself as best as she can with one free hand when her knees buckle before running to your side. She tugs at the seam of your pants and opens and closes her fist, asking for some of your frills. You murmur something to her about saying ‘please’ but hand her a decent clump of silver string anyways, her tiny voice complying as she speaks, “P’ease.”

She inspects the decoration and fiddles with it in her tiny palm, abstractedly saying, “‘Ank you.”

“No problem, babe.” You smile down at her before attempting to instruct her on how to lay the plastic on the branches. She nods her head, mouth agape, seeming to be listening intently until you watch her grab a few too many strands and throw them at the tree. You simper at her and shake your head, coming to terms with the fact that you’ll be tidying up her areas later. 

Eddie stands, his joints creaking as he comes up behind you, making a pit stop at the radio as he adjusts the volume, letting the music warm the room.

“You know? I think you’re her favorite person,” you note, noncommittally turning your head to acknowledge him.

He walks up beside you and you hand over his share of the tinsel. He starts laying the strands over the branches above your head. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” he expresses with a suave smile sent your way. 

As you dress the tree in sterling, the three of you bask in a natural silence, Nat King Cole serenading your trio as he speaks of roasted chestnuts and Jack Frost.

The tree is dazzling, the branches adorned in glittering metals and dissimilar holiday ornaments that clash yet somehow combine to create a charming medley that shouts ‘You and Sheena.’ Eddie’s addition of a hand painted half-elf, one he named “Sheena the Bitchin,’” hangs near the top and adds his name to that melange: a medley of ‘You, Sheena, and just a dash of Eddie.’ The lights bathe the room in a pastiche glow of scarlet, sapphire, emerald, and auburn, the tinsel catching the light and throwing it somewhere else as it twinkles and winks, popcorn garland and popsicle stick ornaments hanging rustically against the kitschy glitz. All that’s missing is the star.

“Here you go, baby.” You hand her the fragile, stained glass christmas star, a family heirloom, and she cradles it close to her body, the garnish almost the size of her torso.

“Alright, up ya go.” Eddie hooks his hands under her armpits and lifts her high to reach the crest. She laughs on the ride up, kicking her feet at the spectacle before concentrating as best as she can, reaching her arms out to steady the star over the stump that Eddie left behind. When she releases it, it sits a tad crooked and as Eddie pulls her away, you stand on the tips of your toes to flick it into place.

You step back and away to admire your work. Eddie coddles Sheena close and she rests her head over his shoulder while you place your hand over the other and lay your temple there. 

“Good job, girly,” he whispers to her before landing a kiss over the messy part in her hair.

You turn to look at her and caress your nails over her forehead to smooth over her bangs and pet her hair out of her eyes as they lazily flutter open and closed.

“Looks like someone’s sleepy,” you tease. She defiantly shakes her head but the slow way in which she does it gives her position away as her eyelids fall and her fingers go limp against Eddie’s chest.

You chuckle as you reach out for her, “Alright, say goodnight to Eddie.” She gives easily as he passes her fading body to you. She snuggles into the soft, warm skin of your neck and huffs short even breaths against your pulse. You rub her back and press your cheek to her ear, bouncing her as you watch Eddie search for his gloves and his hat. He meets you at the door, situating his cap as you speak.

“Thank you for helping us.” Your eyes plant a jitter in his knees that nearly makes him tumble over at just the sight, him offering a bashful twitch of his lips in response. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s nice to do this kind of thing. And, I don’t think you realize just how much I care about you guys,” he illuminates, quirking his brow up as he studies you for a moment before focusing back on Sheena, patting his gloved hand over her curls.

At the contact, her eyes slip open again and she mumbles, “‘night Teddy,” before slipping back into her deep slumber.

“Goodnight, punk,” he responds, a beguiled expression smothering his face as his hand falls to his thigh, clapping the shredded denim there.

You take a step closer and falter before deciding on your plan of action, placing a careful hand over his stubbly cheek and urging his head to the side to give you access to the other. You place a chaste, swift kiss and step away with a pleased smile.

“Goodnight, Teddy.”

[ancientfrozenglaciershark]

Something so amazing about Doctor Who is that fantasy or historical or sci-fi crossovers are just so plausible :’) The Doctor can go anywhere!! And does go everywhere! All these worlds actually do exists together in the universe!! I’m just totally set on the fact that the Doctor has friends from Adventure time and Star trek and One Piece and The Untamed and ATLA and Supergirl and SheRa and Voltron and AAAHhHh! I just love crossovers!! You can do anything!! The Doctor is friends with Cleo, Rikki, and Emma?? Yeah!! Hiccup and Toothless? You bet!! Scooby and the gang? Of course!!

[satan-chillin]

Oblivion

Melkor, the Void, and his eternal punishment.

For Angbang Week Day 4: The Void

Also in Ao3

❅ ❅ ❅

He had little fingers, tiny ones that were neither too cold nor too warm, and an overall appearance closely resembling the Incarnates, mayhaps due to the present forms that his parents had at the time of his conception. 

Somehow, Melkor couldn’t find it in himself to loathe the shape of the newborn, fragile that he was from the tuft of red hair a hue darker than his mother’s to the soft humps of his soles. He fit perfectly within Melkor’s single palm, a squirming lump bundled with silk, and yet the combined Song of his progenitors resonated from such a small form, his noise of curiosity and delight already mighty.  

A tiny, wandering fist grasped at the ends of Melkor’s locks, tugging at it with all the force he could muster. Melkor hadn’t minded, liking instead the toothless victorious smile and Mairon’s unrestrained laugh at the display.  

Light glimmered from within the babe’s eyes, a light Melkor had long forgotten for ages. A light that would create and nurture and what he once coveted and sought to claim. 

The light of the Silmarils that burned at the crown of Melkor’s head had nothing against his son’s light, and Melkor felt afraid to tarnish a being of purity that he had somehow managed to create. 

But he wasn’t his and never would be, not when Melkor remained truly chained and alone in a vast nothingness. 

When he opened his eyes in the next beat, it was the familiar Abyss that met and embraced him in return. 

❅ ❅ ❅

Mairon was under the shade of the lone tree that grew on the spoiled soil of Melkor’s territory. 

Amidst the surrounding barrenness, Mairon displayed a contrasting scenery, not dissimilar to an untamed blaze that had sated itself briefly and would be in the path of ravage in a bit. 

The streak of grief on his fair visage was a common sight these days, and Melkor blamed none but those who chose to suppress and limit Mairon’s talent and desire for progression. 

Melkor shushed him without prompting, knowing how to endear and soothe effortlessly. And once, a long time ago perhaps, this had been when he had drawn him in further and coaxed him into his cause. He had overwhelmed him with his adoration, partly natural though mostly fabricated to suit his purpose of spiriting Mairon away.

Melkor did nothing of the sort now and instead remembered the tree starting as a stray root that had embedded itself deep in his lands, the sole piece of vegetation that refused to be beaten down by corrosion, persistent in its thriving. 

Idly, he watched the leaves change their shade into a warmer one instead of dying and falling off, offering his silence and a shoulder to Mairon for comfort and thought of tranquility. 

It didn’t last. Nothing did but this wretched Void that would shake him awake. And awake he did, a phantom of a slight weight lingering by his shoulder. 

❅ ❅ ❅

At times a glint would wink within the gaping darkness until it would come closer and closer to where Melkor was.

It was wont to disguise itself as the Flame Imperishable; how ironic would that be if what it was in truth was akin to a speckle of dust, insignificant and barely distinguishable? 

But more often it was cruel, wearing a familiar face that Melkor yearned to see once more. 

❅ ❅ ❅

Mairon was by his side, basking in his Master’s height of triumph and victory, and Melkor couldn’t think of a more fitting place for him. 

His most loyal and greatest of servants, beautiful without compare. Melkor was not made capable of love, but such a thing could be learned. If not for himself then for Mairon. 

But Melkor was not given the chance to learn, occupied with his grievances with Eru’s Children and his obsession over a light that was not his to begin with. Was there even anything ingrained in him that wasn’t a tool to destroy and ruin, he wondered. 

He was told that he was the one made the closest to Eru’s image, that each part that had built Melkor from within was from Eru’s thought alone, though how could the One Maker be the same with a being that had designs for utter destruction? 

Melkor’s victory was the Creator’s making, a grand fate fulfilled and hollow with gratification, just as poignant as Mairon’s presence that flickered, vanishing against Melkor’s lightest of touch. 

A flutter of a nonexistent wind, and there came the dark. 

❅ ❅ ❅

Melkor heard his name called in an amalgamation of known and unknown tongues, with a voice heard last during the Great Music. 

“Mairon,” Melkor uttered in turn, voice long unused. “Mairon.”

The twist of a smile was laid on his cheeks and forehead, and Melkor thought he could weep at the first brush of Mairon’s mouth. 

And he was gone, like a faraway dream of the past and what could have been that would torment Melkor over and over for eternity. 

In the empty space of the Void, Melkor’s laugh went unheard.

[lumiidragon]

What is your opinion on the Light Fury, as in Toothless’ mate?

Ok, so I'll start by stating that I don't "hate" her. The Light Fury is a very wonderful addition to the HTTYD franchise (despite what I know a lot of fans would disagree with) and she brought a whole new species with her that I am very personally attached to.

However, everything about her was done wrong. This may get a little lengthy, so I've added the rest below the cut~

Let's start with the glaringly obvious issue: she was made solely to be romance fodder. Her being Toothless's mate isn't the issue here, what the issue is is that she was ONLY made to be Toothless's mate. She wasn't made for a story-driving purpose or to lift any characters, she was "made to be like a lioness luring Toothless back to the savanna" as it had been stated. Basically, she literally has no purpose other than to be arm candy for Toothless and that's where her character immediately started to go wrong. In story-telling, if you're only making a character to romance one of the main characters and that's literally their only purpose, then you've made a very flat character to kick things off and that's not good. If she was made to be more of a driving force for the story instead of a useless wedge in between what was supposed to be an inseparable bond between Toothless and Hiccup, then I think that would have given her character a MAJOR boost alone. However, she's just "The Toothless Girlfriend" and frankly nothing more and is never anything more than that, which is a crying shame because she's not allowed to be her own character, she's supposed to be the thing Toothless makes goo-goo eyes at.

Next up, her actual roles in the movie: aka, staring at Toothless most of the movie or flying away from Hiccup. That's...pretty much all she does in the movie. Her only defining time in the movie is when she saves Hiccup, a minute-long part in the entirety of The Hidden World movie. That is the most development we ever get of her. Anything else is just her being there to have Toothless drool and slobber all over or her taking off and leaving Toothless for dead at the mercy of the "scary humans" but they try to claim "it's true love". I'm not against her not liking humans, in fact, I think it's a good trait for her to have, but she needs to have more of a personality and role than that of a deer fleeing from a spooky noise it heard. We never get to see what she's like when she's on her own, we never get to see her have any real driving roles that's not the very-much-complained-about-already romance fodder, we never get to see ANY personality.

Lack of backstory is another issue. We never learn anything about her. She doesn't even get a name and no, it doesn't come across as "but she's a wild animal and her not getting a name leaves her untamed and natural!" it comes across as poor character development and lazy. How was she captured? Why was she outside of The Hidden World in the first place if this was the "perfect home" for dragons and while every other light fury is apparently down there? Why couldn't we see any scenes of her and Grimmel alone when we could have either seen how he took her to Berk or a very satisfying scene of her maybe kicking his ass? (If she was so dead set on trying to kill Hiccup, why not on trying to kill the actual human who had actually hurt her many times already? Oh right, because boyfriend needs her or something I guess). Any kind of backstory, no matter how brief would have also been a huge boost to her character.

Then there's Homecoming, but literally nothing was done right with this short, so I'll just leave it at that.

As for good points, I really do like her design despite what most fans say. No, she doesn't need to be "bigger" than Toothless because light furies aren't as big as night furies. (I've heard the whole "but female reptiles are usually bigger than males!" argument, but people remember that she is not a night fury. She's a completely different species.) Yes, I like her nubbyness and sparkles. I know it's overly girly, but I'm really diggin' it because not every dragon has to look like a badass death machine. Also, her cloaking ability is super cool. This is only ruined when they decided that Toothless had to be special snowflake and have that for his ability too, which will never make sense to me. Also, she is not a bitch for disliking humans, including Hiccup. She's a wild animal. This, once again, is only ruined for a single factor, and that being that it's almost half of her entire personality with the other half being "The Girlfriend".

So in conclusion, I don't hate her-hate her, but she's the weakest character in the entire series and that's stupid seeing as how she was supposed to be the thing people fall in love with so Toothless ditching Hiccup wouldn't feel as shitty, but they failed at that miserably.

[don-dake]

When you start seeing two particular dragons as two particular people and vice versa…

[nightfury-2001]

Was just thinking about HTTYD 3 and was thinking about something particularly weird. That being that they were trying to show that the dragons had been domesticated like dogs. Here’s the problem, that isn’t true in the real world. When I was a baby my Mom put me on the floor so she could quickly do something. My Grandmom tried to pick me up and move me and one of our dogs growled at her (teeth and all) till she put me back down. A lot of people don’t seem to understand that just because dogs are domesticated doesn’t make them any less dangerous.

Tbf, I would say that domesticated animals are generally quite a bit safer to be around than tamed and especially untamed wild animals - they've been selectively bred over many many generations to have desirable traits and behaviors. That's not to say that domesticated animals can't be dangerous or cause harm, but a Labrador or whatever that's literally been bred to be friendly, playful, and to enjoy being around people is going to be far less likely to kill or seriously injure you than an animal that has been conditioned to tolerate and perhaps even like being around humans but still has the instincts, behaviors, and wants of a wild animal.

But anyway yes while I may not agree with your exact reasoning, "The dragons have been domesticated and that's why they're like that!!!" shit makes little sense because:

1. They're not even domesticated, like that's not what domesticated means, the word they're looking for is tamed. At best you could say the Berkians are in the earliest stages of domesticating certain species like Nadders, Gronckles, etc.

2. They can't even decide what they want the dragons to actually be (especially Toothless).....are they like cute "domesticated" pets? Wild animals that belong in the wild and only truly thrive and feel at home there? Sapient beings that are maybe not at literal human levels of intelligence in some areas, but are nonetheless much smarter than any real non-human animal (and so it's a bit weird to be like oh they're "just animals")? It's like they want them to be all three at the same time and it's just a mess lol.

[teddibura]

[howtotrainyourdragongirl]

Things I hate "dislike" within the httyd fandom/httyd itself:

1. NON HICCSTRID SHIPPERS. AS SIMPLE AS THAT. Now I have nothing against the person themselves but when people intentionally go out of their way to make it CLEAR that they don't ship... it gets kind of annoying...

2. Photoshop. Ngl there are some RLLY talented ppl out there and I have seen TONNES of amazing and adorable photoshop, tho hogwarts uniforms? And Astrid as Rapunzel? Really?

3. Cross over fanfics. Now I like the creativity, but can someone tell me who woke up oneday and decided to creat an entire fandom for Hiccup, Elsa, Jack Frost and Merida and then expect everyone to agree with it?

4. Luna(Light fury). I'm really sorry to those who love her, but I... don't... for one thing they just slap her in the third movie without a single f- and just let it be. Toothless took her over his friend who saved him(and injured him in the first place) and ran off with all the other dragons. She also seems extremely moody, untamable and just plain b*tchy. Again, sorry to those who like her. This is just my personal opinion- you don't necessarily have to agree or disagree with everything I say

5. The Nine Realms. This one speaks for itself.

6. Thw. This also speaks for itself. Ik ppl who absolutely HATE this movie, and whilst I definitely don't love it, I'll still watch it(*jazz hands* HICCSTRID WEDDIIIIIIIIIING)

7. *sigh* why the dragons leave..? I MISS YOU TOOTHLESS!! 😢

8. When ppl write fanfics with rlly bad spelling and grammar. Now keep in mind I also have mild OCD so this might also be why it annoys me so much, although I do understand that for some people English isn't their first language.

9. Rlly crazy au's. I love modern au, runaway au, etc. But things like mermaid, cowboy or princess au just... idk... I just prefer not to read them if you know what I'm saying. Way too twisted for my tiny brain.

10. Jk I don't have 10 things I hate dislike, only 9. Also it's currently 11:30pm and I'm half sleep deprived but not enough to get to sleep so um yeah. Usually this is when I'm either blurting out random thoughts or looking through Hiccstrid fanarts. No regrets.

*yet*

Anyways c ya later and imma just- *falls asleep and faceplants into pillow*

4/6/2022

[td-inactive]

Thought I would make a night fury/light fury descendant with cave adaptations.

Basic info Name: Quill Sex: Female Age: Unknown Height: 122cm (4ft) Rider: None (wild/untamed) Location: Hidden World - Family Mate: None Children: None Other: Descendant of Toothless and Light Fury

[scarletjedi]

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fixit AU but make it Mingcheng

@piyo-13

Part 1

Part 2A

PART 2B: GUSU UNLEASHED

Nie Huaisang immediately grabs a piece of blank paper to write a message back to Nie Mingjue, leaving Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian staring at each other. “Well,” Wei Wuxian said after a minute. “Aren’t you going to write to him, too?”

Jiang Cheng startled, he’d been too caught up in Huaisang’s words, “He’s alive!”. He had been prepared to go through the process of meeting Nie Mingjue again, of hopefully catching his attention, of watching A-Jue fall for him the way Jiang Cheng had fallen years ago — that his lover was here, alive, and *knew him* had not had time to process.

Trembling, Jiang Cheng moved from his bed, weak limbs pouring him like water until he was sat up against the table, taking the paper that Huaisang handed him. He stared, blankly. What to *say*?

“Tell him you love him,” Wei Wuxian said from his bed.

“Tsk, he knows that,” Jiang Cheng said with little snap.

“Then tell him you want to fuc—”

“Ah, la la la la!” Nie Huaisang said, covering his ears, and Wei Wuxian fell back laughing. Nie Huaisang winked at him. “Be honest,” he said. “But be short,” he looked down at his own missive. “All of this needs to fit on the bird.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng picked up his brush. After a moment, he put ink to paper, writing in quick, sure strokes. He fanned the paper back and forth a few times to dry the ink faster, and folded the note to hand to Huaisang. Huaisang took it with a grin and ran from the room to send the message back.

“What did you write?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“None of your business.”

Two days later Nie Zonghui would bring the messages to Nie Mingjue, who would open Huaisang’s note, only to have a smaller note fall free. He would pick it up with a small frown before reading Huaisang’s note, smiling — blinking, then reading the note again. “If he put nearly have the effort into studying...” he muttered and Zongui would hide a smile. Then, Mingjue would open the smaller missive, nearly dropping the paper in shock, scrambling to catch it. “Sect Leader?” Zonghui would ask, and when Nie Mingjue looked up, he would be beaming.

Now, Nie Mingjue, who had fought, lead, and won a war, lead a sect, and died a slow, agonizing descent into his greatest fears, finds himself once more at 19, newly made Section Leader, and the clearest minded he’s been in years, without the damage caused by cultivating a war and...well. He wasn’t actually sure *how* Meng Yao managed to kill him, just that he knew he had.

Which was another problem. By this point, Huaisang was safely in Cloud Recesses, but Meng Yao was on his way back to Qinghe. It would take him most of a week to return, traveling on horseback as he was, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what reception Meng Yao should receive.

Meng Yao, long before he was renamed by his father, had acted in ways that were counter to the values of the Nie sect. Even if Nie Mingjue were to overlook the crimes he committed as Jin Guangyao, or the atrocities he participated in as a torturer for Wen Ruohan, his crimes began in Qinghe.

Crimes that, as far as Nie Mingjue was aware, had not yet happened. Even before Meng Yao had used the chaos of an attack to kill the captain of his guardNie, Mingjue was never sure how much Meng Yao spoke was the truth — just knew that at one point he was sure Meng Yao had never lied to him, and then was never sure Meng Yao was not lying.

In his previous life, Nie Mingjue turned most often to Lan Xichen for council, particularly wher Meng— Jin Guangyao was concerned. Then, as years passed, Xichen would turn ever more towards Jin Guangyao first, and Nie Mingjue found himself turning to Jiang Wanyin as their wartime sparring turned to tent-side comfort, to comraderie to courtship.

A-Cheng.

For all that Mingjue had more years of experience leading a sect, Wanyin’s experience was a similar enough trial by fire to grant him insight, and an outsider enough to the triumvirate to offer an outsider’s clarity.

Truly, his love possessed an uncanny wisdom hidden behind brusque words and toothless threats.

He wished for Wanyin’s council now. He wished for his presence. It had already been too long since they had last seen each other before Mingjue made his last, fateful visit to Jinlintai. It would likely be several months, if not years, before their paths would cross once more.

And— he missed his lover as a lover. Wanyin was a beautiful man, strong and proud and fierce and so sweet in private. A joy and a challenge.

Getting Huaisang’s letter was bittersweet because his didi had already suffered so much: even the first time, Mingjue had wanted Hauisang’s youth to be as worry free as possible, to have the freedom to be careless in a way Mingjue never had. And sweet, because it meant that Mingjue wasn’t alone in this.

Getting Wanyin’s message was a blessing and a curse. He had already resigned himself to wait, to reach out to the Jiang Sect in support to save Wanyin his own heartbreak, to court him properly from the beginning. To know that his love was here, and yet still so far out of reach...

Huaisang’s letter boiled down to “plan in motion. Do not engage.” Which...

“Didi,” Nie Mingjue muttered. “What are you doing?”

Because, the thing is, Mingjue would *like* to listen to Huaisang. Mingjue was tired, and doing the right thing was an increasingly difficult and murky task....but Mingjue was also a just and righteous man. Certain actions he would take no matter what...and certain actions he would not.

The facts were thus:

Meng Yao had killed him in a way that was both intensely malicious and duplicitous. (Nie Mingjue was unsure as to his motive. What did Meng Yao gain aside from petty revenge? No, the method was revenge. The act...the act was something different).

Meng Yao had not, as of yet, committed any crime, nor was he currently capable of the technique that had been used to kill Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue could not in good conscience kill a man who had committed no crime, nor could he stand by and allow another to fall off the righteous path when it was within his power to prevent. (Was it within his power?)

So, Nie Mingjue could neither punish Meng Yao for crimes he had not yet committed, nor could was he able to relax in Meng Yao’s presence the way he had the first time around.

...Maybe Huaisang had ideas.

[later] “I can’t believe this!” Huaisang glared at the letter from his brother. Jiang Cheng’s own letter sat in his pocket to be perused later. It felt almost hot, the way his focus continually drifted towards the folded paper, but he knew better than to read his lover’s letter in front of Huaisang. Not if he wanted to keep any pretense to dignity.

“What is it?” he prompted when Huaisang fell silent, re-reading furiously.

“He wants to rehabilitate Meng Yao! His own murderer!”

“Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us,” Jiang Cheng offered. “He’s not the man who killed your brother. Not yet, anyway.”

“You didn’t see—” Huaisang cut himself off, looking away and biting his lip. Jiang Cheng shifted, focusing on the letter to let the heat of its presence chase away the chill of the reminder that when his lover had died, Jiang Cheng wasn’t there.

“A tiger can not change his stripes,” Nie Huaisang muttered, and hid his face behind his fan.

[The discussion over what happens to Meng Yao plays out thusly:

NHS: I don’t want to kill Meng Yao, Da-ge! I just don’t want him alive. Anymore.

NMJ: Didi, no.

NHS: Didi, yes!

Ultimately, NMJ pulls the big brother/sect leader card and says they have time to deal with Meng Yao, and since Meng Yao was currently NMJ’s problem, he would deal with it. NHS threw a tantrum that reminded everyone that yes, NHS is related to NMJ by blood, but finally went: “fine! It’s not like the *whole reason* we came back wasn’t to fuck up all of his shit!” and adjusted his plans again.]

When he goes back to his room, Jiang Cheng finds himself alone. He can bet that Wei Wuxian will be off with Lan Wangji (and no, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why Wei Wuxian hasn’t just moved in with his boyfriend, considering how often he comes skittering into the room just on the wrong side of curfew, mussed and bruised in a very specific way that Jiang Cheng a) wants to know no more about and b)isn’t jealous of, fuck off.), so he has time to read his letter.

Cheng-er,

We never were a pair for letters, you and I, preferring to steal time for each other like a pair of romantic thieves. I regret, now, not making more time to woo and court you properly then — though I fear I already had all you could give — not desire, you showed me your hunger for me readily enough, matched only by my hunger for you — but hours of the day.

I think very fondly of our nights.

This second chance makes me desire to do better, to build you a place in my life from the start, as I hope you build a place for me. We are young, yet, and have time to hope.

I miss you, Wanyin. Cheng-er. Please write to me. A letter is a poor substitute for your fire, but I will cherish even these scraps above silence.

Yours,

A-Jue

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure how long he was there, re-reading the letter, when Wei Wuxian tumbled in, only to stop when he caught sight of Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Cheng! You’re pink!” Wei Wuxian crowed, pointing a finger and laughing at the way Jiang Cheng startled. “Who wrote to you to make you blush? What did he say?”

“None of your business,” Jaing Cheng snapped, tucking the letter away.

A-Jue,

Who gave you the right to write such a letter? Who would believe the NIe Sect leader to be so shameless? You can take a lesson from your brother in poetry if you are planning to continue!

Building a space — as if I did not rebuild my piers with a place for you. As if you had not already crawled into my heart to live.

I lost you once, A-Jue. I will not lose you again.

I await your next letter,

Yours, always,

Cheng-er

Jiang Cheng hands the folded paper to Nie Huaisang, face burning. For once, Nie Huaisang doesn’t tease, doesn’t give him a knowing smirk. Instead, his eyes are kind, and he takes the letter with little fanfare, tucking it neatly into his own missive to be sent off at once.

When the next letter comes, Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother waiting, taking the letter and retreating to the sound of Nie Huaisang’s laughter.

Cheng-er

You want poetry, do you?...

Jiang Cheng’s eyes skip over the page and he gasps aloud, face burning as he looks around to see that no one else is near. To write such things! Shameless! But...oh, how it lights a fire in him, and he’s breathless with his, dizzy with sudden, frustrated want that he cannot satisfy.

In the end, Nie Mingjue was right. The words are a poor substitute, but Jiang Cheng would not trade this letter for anything.

The next morning, Jiang Cheng approaches Wei Wuxian with an idea for a long-distance communication array, one that could be personally powered and used. The reasons he gives are all to do with military strategy, but he needn’t have bothered. The challenge to create something new has Wei Wuxian distracted immediately, and he wanders off to the library mid-sentence.

The next free afternoon they have in Caiyi, Jiang Cheng purchases a wooden box, cleverly built with locking compartments and false bottoms. It is perfectly sized for folded letters.

Time passes. Now that Jiang Cheng has thirteen years of lived experience - and hard years of war and cuthroat sect politics and rebuilding his sect - the lessons aren’t easier, per say, but they have context that he missed the first time. HIs understanding is more in depth, which quickly makes him a favorite of Lan Qiren to call on — even if his actual answer (usually “threaten them with Zidian”) wasn’t the answer he provided in class. Wei Wuxian was also a calmer presence in class - still questioning, still pushing limits, but when Lan Qiren calls on Wei Wuxian to answer his questions, Wei Wuxian’s answers are thoughtful, inventive, but within the bounds of conventionality. Surprisingly, it’s Lan Wangji who suggests solutions that boarder on the heretical — solutions that Jiang Cheng knows come to pass, such as the spirit attraction flags.

It’s enough to make Lan Qiren change colors, and judging by the tiny smirk on LWJ’s face, it’s absolutely deliberate. (The one class that Lan Xichen sits in on is, actually, hilarious, as he seems consistently torn between laughter and exasperation at his brother’s small rebellion).

Nie Huaisang, however, seems to be *genuinely struggling* with the material. So much so that Jiang Cheng takes pity and drags him (and Wangxian) into the library one afternoon to actually study rather than their usual spot by the river where they would refine their plan to keep everyone alive that they actually cared about keeping alive, and killing those who needed killing as efficently as possible. (“That’s a rather blunt way of thinning about this, Jaing Cheng,” WWX said to him. JC had just shrugged. He didn’t see the reason to couch the truth in political double speak when he didn’t have to”)

After an hour or so, Nie Huaisang slumped forward over the table, thumping his forehead against he lacquered wood. “It’s no use. I’m going to have to repeat this year again, *again*”

“I don’t understand it,” Jiang Cheng said. He knew that Huaisang was smart; he figured out Jin Guangyao’s plot, he successfully modified the time travel array — Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he ran Qinghe’s spy rin duing the war, though that had never been confirmed. “I know you know things.”

“I don’t,” he wailed. “I don’t know anything. Don’t ask me.”

“I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning in and keeping his voice low. “But we have a spy in our midst.”

“Those rumors were never proven,” Huaisang said, sniffling.

“Not you,” Wei Wuxian said, and angled his head in a way that he only thought was subtle towards where Jin Zixuan was sitting, stiff and imperious, with an exasperated Luo Qingyang. “He’s been doing that a lot,” he said.

Jiang Cheng watched him for a long moment, trying to remember the frustration he felt with a young Jin Zixuan who hadn’t yet unlearned the smug superiority of Jinlintai...but all he could see was little Jin Ling, awkward from growing up alone and desperately lonely (except Jin Ling had picked up Jiang Cheng’s bad habit of expressing any emotion as anger, and it seemed Zixuan had chosen...smug silence.)

“Aw, crap,” Jiang Cheng muttered, because as soon as he realized it, he knew what he had to do. Pushing himself up, he stalked over to Jin Zixuan, ignoring the hissed complaints of Wei Wuxian, and stared down at him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” Jin Zixuan sneered. Behind him, Luo Qingyang rolled her eyes, and Jiang Cheng huffed.

“Cute. But you got nothing on my mother.” Jin Zixuan blinked, surprise loosening some of the stiffness in his posture. Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng snapped. “Look. You’re not subtle. We see you. So do you want to sit with us or not?” He looked between them. “Both of you.”

Jin Zixuan nodded, then blinked as if surprised at himself. Luo Qingyang stood to salute, but Jiang Cheng waved it off.

“Great, come on,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned around, not waiting to see if they. He sat back in his seat, shifting books to make room. He didn’t really want to sit next to Zixuan, but with Nie Huaisang sprawled over his books and Wei Wuxian practically in Lan Wangji’s lap, it was the only safe place for them.

Nie Huaisang sat back, looking at Jiang Cheng over his fan. “What?” He snapped.

“Softie,” Nie Huaisang said softly, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“He needs to learn, and Luo Qingyang is the only one at Jinlintai right now that I trust,” he muttered.

Wei Ying squinted at Jiang Cheng, as if trying to figure something out, but when Jin Zixuan and Luo Qingyang appeared, he blinked at her, surprised, and perked up in recognition. “Mianmian!”

Which, of course, was the wrong thing to say. Jin Zixuan puffed up, and Lan Wangji hissed a pained Wei Ying, and Nie Huaisang was being no help. So, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes again and translated.

“No offense meant, Lady Luo,” he said. “My brother’s memory for names is notoriously bad, but he means no disrespect by his over familiarity.”

Thankfully Luo Qingyang smiled. “No offence taken, Young Master Jiang. If your offer is genuine, and we are to be friends, then you may call me Mianmian.”

Jaing Cheng smiled. “Then please join us, Mianmian. I am Jiang Cheng.”

That caused everyone to look at him, and he glared. “What?! I have manners.”

“Jiang-xiong is quite a gentleman,” Nie Huaisang agreed, mildly, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. That tone always meant mischief.

“And you’re a pain in my—”

“No excess talking in the library,” Lan Wangji interrupted, staring placidly back when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng both glared at him. Well, Jiang Cheng glared. Nie Huaisang pouted.

After a moment, Jin Zixuan grunted softly, as if someone had elbowed him in his ribs. He cleared his throat. “What are you working on?” he asked woodenly, as if speaking from a poorly rehearsed script. Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Mianmian nod encouragingly.

“We’re trying to help Nie-xiong pass the next exam,” Wei Wuxian offered.

“Who’s we?” Jiang Cheng muttered, flipping his book open once more. “Unless sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap is a new study method.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan as Wei Wuxian squawked, reaching out to smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, only to be hauled back with apparent ease by Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji who, arms wrapped securely around Wei Wuxian, stared square at Jiang Cheng and said. “It is an advanced technique.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested, going pink in the face, and Nie Huaisang’s giggles turned to outright laughter.

Jin Zixuan leaned into to Jiang Cheng. “Is it always like this?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Pretty much. Those two decided shame was for other people a long time ago.”

“I...have questions,” Jin Zixuan said.

Jiang Cheng turned and looked at him. “You know, so do I. But mine might involve yelling, so the library probably isn’t the best place for them.”

(It takes a while to build up to the conversation, a few weeks until Jin Zixuan is comfortable enough to sit with them without Mianmian as a social buffer. He’s still insufferable, but more and more Jiang Cheng sees the kid he remembers from childhood visits, and even shades of the proud yet just man that he almost had a chance to fully grow into being.)

Meanwhile, something is shifting between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the simmering tension between them boiling over, and Jiang Cheng is both sure that they’ve actively started fucking and and sure that he wants *absolutely nothing to do with it.* He does not want to hear it, see it, smell it — which makes it difficult when Wei Wuxian proves that he has no filter, and Lan Wangji proves he has no shame.

What had actually happened was Lan Xichen had approached Lan Wangji and said that he was glad LWJ was making friends, and hey, haven’t you been spending an awful lot of time with that Wei Wuxian kid? Don’t worry, little brother, I’ll keep Uncle off your back.” LWJ was unsure if Xichen knew that LWJ and WWX were together, but was unsure how to clarify. Every time he tried, LXC seemed to double down on his interpretation of their relationship as being the same as his with NMJ (and while NMJ thought LXC was pretty, he was more interested in Xichen’s swordplay than his *swordplay*) - and LWJ decided that the best course of action was to kiss Wei Wuxian as much as possible as often as possible.

For the record, Lan Xichen was well aware of his little brother’s inclinations, and was quite enjoying his own spot of harmless rebellion by encouraging Wangji’s shamelessness. Besides, Wei Wuxian was a good match for Wangji, and it was a relief to see Wangji smiling. Perhaps it was time to begin drafting some marital paperwork. It wouldn’t do to be caught unprepared, afterall.

He hoped they married in the spring. He always loved a spring wedding...

Somewhere, Jiang Cheng felt a chill.

NEXT TIME - THE RETURN OF THE MAIN PLOT