#vikings got crossover

[dianagj-art]

Hey everyone! Just a heads up that 2 Arms Left creator @intotheelliwoods and I wanna tie on the @tmntaucompetition!!!

Reasons: Poptart and One are besties (no, One is not aware, but they are) and it'd be really fun if they move trought the competition together

[pap-het]

[asexualdindjarin]

being prone to obsess over things but also getting bored quickly is a fun combo because my fixations just develop into weird branches of interest that sound wild if you retrace them like yeah I'm writing fanfic about the TV portrayal of a real guy who died in 1914 yeah it's gonna be all day. why? star wars obviously

[viikingwitch]

ELENA ( @feylived ) SAID : can you walk on it?

PROMPTS FOR CARRYING/BEING CARRIED

               “Yes – ouch.” Her reassurances are caught short the moment she tries to walk, the pain striking up through her leg like a thunder. This is what she gets for agreeing to spar with a werewolf: a twisted ankle, aching muscles, a bruised ago.

               Feeling rather nauseous, she leans on Elena. Much as she loathes showing vulnerability, this is better than throwing up or, worse yet, fainting. “I don’t suppose this will suffice as proof that I can, indeed, hold my own in a fight?” she asks, dryly. She can. She would rather leave fists and claws and fangs to them, however, focus on her magic. It does require significant focus not to let her power respond in kind and send her partner flying ( with the right spell, she can take down the entire pack with a literal flick of her wrist ).

               That is one explanation. Elena being trained in hand-to-hand combat is another. Apparently being one of them means she gets put through similar training, a thought that puts fear even in a wicked witch’s heart. “I can fix this before Jeremy notices.” She pauses. Sighs. “Who am I kidding? Now he will never relinquish this futile idea.”

[pinkytoothlesso11]

would you ever write a historical stricklake au? if so, is there a time period you’re partial to?

Yes, yes, yes!

Predictably I would love to write a fully fleshed out AU set in medieval times, not necessarily the time of Camelot but probably around that era. The basic setting would be that peace has been made possible among the magical and non-magical communities, but not so much so that inter-species relationships are common. They're actually frowned upon.

There was a treaty between Wizards, Gumm-Gumm’s, good trolls anf humans, and it is agreed that changelings should be allowed if a troll whelp is unusually sickly or a runt, and the human familiar is likely to die. They're raised by their human family until adulthood and then integrate with both troll and human society.

Walter and Barbara meet at a courtly function, Walter is an ambassador of changelings, Barbara is half common/half noble and is in some disgrace as she is a single mother and also learning magic from Morgana.

Walter and Barbara start a relationship in secret and then accidentally stumble across a plot to frame a troll for the murder of Guinevere. To turn Arthur against troll kind. And it seems to be instigated by a mutually beneficial truce between Gunmar and Merlin... Who don't like how the truce has played out for different reasons.

Cue medieval drama, plots and conspiracies, and a subplot of forbidden romance/star-crossed lovers as well as slight political intrigue. And of course plenty of magic.

[callofdudes]

Call of Duty's How to Train Your Dragon pt1.

A/n: Is this finally being created after @itsscromp finally got my brain worms wiggling again? Yes. Is this also a get better fic? Yes. Is it an entire script for a move? Also yes.

Yes, it's also just shy of 20K words so... This half of the post is only about 12K. If you like httyd/cod crossovers you've come to the right place. But if you want to give it a chance and have a shit ton of free time. I'd also be honored.

Hiccup: Y/n. Astrid: Ghost. Fishlegs: Gaz. Ruff/Tuff: Soap. Snotlout: Graves.

I will reblog with the second half of the fic. Cred for the divider used goes to @straywords

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

The only problems are the pests. Even if they carry away all our food… You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…

Y/n opens the door of the large house structure, watching Vikings go running by, a monstrous nightmare stalking across the ground, talons digging into the stone. It turned it's gaze on the door, letting out a stream of fire from its gut. 

Y/n quickly slams the door shut as fire flicked up between the cracks and fades into dark smoke.

-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. 

Y/n rushed outside, smoke billowing into the clouds from the fire torching into the wooden buildings.

My name's Y/n. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Y/n falls back against the ground with an earth quaking tremor as another dragon flies into the area. Several Vikings greeting them. You. This is you. Flabby skin tight arms wrapped around thin layers of barely noticeable muscle.

Clothes seeming too big and too small, hands as soft as a newborn despite the experience in the forge. The only place you ever seem to be helpful no doubt. 

What a life a Viking like you lives. You're bloody useless! Even a newborn baby could wield an axe better than you could.

You rush up one of the paths along the hills of Berk, multiple Vikings looking at your sorry figure and asking why you were out during a dragon attack. You only ever caused trouble. When you weren't being useless you were being an expensive clumsy step.

“What are you doing here!?” One Viking says before you rush past.

“What are you doin’ out??” Another.

“Get back inside!!”

You're grabbed up swiftly by the collar of your shirt, your stubby feet dangling above the ground. A dragon's fiery breath drawing a line in the road, barely were you saved from its wrath.

“Y/n?! What are they doing out again-?!” He looked at you, baffled. “What are you doing out?! Get inside!”

That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. 

You watch as the large burly man grabs a cart along the road, swinging it and throwing it violently at a deadly Nadder in the sky. The dragon struggled and went down as it burst into splinters.

 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

While the others rush to the scene to take the dragons on, you cower and rush into the smithing shop nestled near the middle of the town road. The only place not burnt down by now.

Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.

“Oh, nice of you to join the party, I thought you'd been carried off!”

You turned briefly to another large man, his appendages having some work done, what with missing both an arm and a leg. Always wondered what kept him alive… it clearly wasn't his limbs.

“What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all…” Your lack of any muscle is incredibly. Being born into the generation you were, how you managed to stay the same length and width of a stick was quite the sight. “...this.”

You moved a rather large weapon and opened the smithing window, a Viking immediately grabbing a weapon from the desk before you could take them back to the smelter.

He hums. “Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” 

You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.

The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.

You look out the smithing window as Stoick tackles another dragon. A dragon landing on another roof and blowing fire into the scorching wood. It crumbling beneath its talons.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

“FIRE!!” A Viking shouted, followed by four teen rushing out with buckets of water.

Oh, and that's Gaz, Graves, Soap, and... Ghost. Oh, their job is so much cooler.

You watch the group walk from a fiery explosion as Vikings pass by, led by the snappiest rackater of them all. 

Ghost may have been a hard head who bullied your entire existence in a subtle way that made you feel like you were the problem, but that didn't matter. 

Graves was a real hard ass. Always following said lead teen around like he was gonna get a chance for even a morcel. Considering no respecting person in the village would take that…

There was Soap. They say he had a twin, but, had. Considering no one knows what happened or where said twin ended up. Easiest to say Odin didn't want them to live the hardships.

Or they got eaten by a dragon. 

Gaz, well, no one really knew what his problem was. He was a tad odd, but damn smart, and somehow more popular than you, skellington.

You lean out the smithing window, a hooked hand pulling you back in. “Oh come on! Please, let me out! I need to make my mark!”

“Oh you've made marks all right, in all the wrong places!”

“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get noticed!”

“You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!” Gobber lifts a bola to express his exasperation, only for it to be pulled from his hook and thrown at a dragon, taking it down.

“Okay, fine, but this will throw it for me!” You smiled excitedly rushing back into the shop, showing off your cool canon mechanism.

“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!” Gobber sighed, exasperated. Watching you fiddle with your contraption.

“Mild calibration issue-” You fiddled with some levers and the string on the draw.

“Don't you- no- Y/n. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.” He gestured vaguely to you, looking you up and down.

“But you just pointed to all of me?”

“Yes, exactly! Stop being you.” Gobber smiled, thinking you were getting it. Poking you in the chest.

“Oooh…”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Viking-ness... contained? THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.” You pointed your finger up, brow turning down angrily.

Gobber looked bored at you. “I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now.” He dumped the sword into your frail hands, leaving you to your devices.

One day, I'll get out there. Because, killing a dragon, is everything around here.

You can look out the smithing window while you put the sword on the grindstone, sparks flying from the blade as you contemplate your options of execution.

A Nadder head is sure to get you at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get you the spot light. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.

And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

You watched from the window as one crawled up the wall of the tower and onto a catapult, lighting itself up and scaring off the Viking manning the device.

Stoick slamming his hammer into its face to ward it off from the top of the tower.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-

There's a high pitched whistle across the sky. Vikings retreating desperately as they call out.

“NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!” The Vikings rush to get down. From nowhere a catapult is torn apart with a plasma blast.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself, and... never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why you're going to be the first.

“Man the fort, Y/n. They need me out there!” He attaches an ax piece to his hand, rushing to the door.

“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” Gobber runs off, leaving you in the shop. You tore off your apron and ran back to your catapult set up. Steering it out the doors and running up the hill along the catapults. 

Vikings yelling at you to get back and go inside. You can't be trusted outside when the island is in chaos. They can't trust you not to make chaos.

“Y/n!” One yelled.

“I know! I'll be right back!” You led your catapult on wheels up the old path, Stoick pinning down a group of Nadders. 

The others fought while you reached the edge of the cliff. Looking out at the darkness, a surprisingly peaceful corner of the island away from the chaos feet away.

You opened the catapult and set it up, the small aiming needle and the leader strap that held in the bola aiming around. You looked at the night sky, out at all the stars.

“Come on… Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.”

You watched the sky. Hearing the low cry of the dragon. Seeing the dark figure blacking out the stars, the only possible way you could see the creature that blended so easily into the night.

Attempting to track the shadow with the scope of your catapult.

You heard the dragon make its move, dive bombing from the sky and shooting a plasma blast into a nearby fire, knocking the tower down. As it cleared the explosion you clenched your eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

The catapult blasted you back on your butt, hearing the cry as the creature went down. 

You hit it. For once in your miniscule life you hit it!! A dragon!! A night fury!!

“I hit it!! Yes! Did anybody see that??” You turned around, a monstrous nightmare creeping up on you, its narrowed face making it look like a devilish thing.

“Except… for you.” 

It growled at you and you screamed, attracting the attention of Stoick. He sighed in exasperation, pulling away from the tied down Nadder heads. “DO NOT let them escape!” He commanded some others as he rushed to your aid.

You ran and stumbled from the dragon that stalked after you, firing at you. Hiding behind a pillar as your heart pounded in your chest.

You just killed a dragon and now you're dead. You're a goner. Oh you should have stayed inside.

It blasted a fiery blaze against the pillar, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut. Slowly forcing one open and inching around the corner. 

The dragon growled as its head turned, coming around from behind you. Before it could fire, Stoick slammed his fist into its face, getting the attention onto him.

It belched out the last of its flame, looking weakly down at the splatter and up at Stoick.

“You're all out of juice.” He clenched his fists and punched the monstrous nightmare, bullying it until it retreated desperately back into the night.

You tensed up, feeling the burning hot metal of the pillar crunch and crumble. The wooden pole leaning and the flaming bowl of coals on top spilled as it toppled. Falling to the side and crashing into a fire gust of ashes into a small pool of water.

Vikings gathered around you as you timidly looked up at Stoick.

Oh, and there's one other thing you should know…

A woman cried and gasped, the coals flickering and landing across the ground and the dirt. Your shoulders tensing and rising with each noise. Slowly turning to Stoick who did not look happy.

“Sorry… dad..”

You and the others all watched as the dragons flew by, the sound of the sheep they'd captured from the island sounding off as they left. 

Slowly pursing your lips you turned to your father. “Ok but I hit a night fury-”

Stoick grabbed you by the back of your collar, dragging you off effortlessly.

“Ah! It's not like the last few times, dad! I really actually hit it.”

“You guys weren't around. I was alone when I hit it. I had a clear shot.” 

Gobber watched regretfully as you were dragged. “It fell just off Ravens point I say let's get a search party out there-”

“Stop!” Stoick interrupted you, making you purse your lips again silently as he now stood you in front of him. “Just stop.”

“Every time you get out, trouble follows. Can't you see I have bigger problems?? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed.”

An awkward pause before you speak. “Well between you and me the village could use a little less of that? No?”

A Viking behind you silently disagrees as he rubs his round stomach. No, no, the village can stay well fed. They like it.

“This is not a joke! Y/n!” Stoick sighs. “Why can't you just follow the simplest of orders??”

You bounce on your feet. “I-I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it.” You twist your hands, looking up at him. 

Yeah, right. Like you could ever kill a dragon. 

“It's who I am, dad.” You say, sighing. You're full of crap.

Stoick rubs his face. “Ey… you are many things y/n, but a dragon killer? Is not one of them… get back to the house.”

He looks up at Gobber, motioning him. “Make sure they get there.”

Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 

“I have their mess to clean up…” Stoick walks past as Gobber leads you sulking home.

To make things worse you passed the other teens, Soap snickering with Gaz. “Quite the performance.” Gaz commented.

“Wow, I've never seen someone mess up that badly.” Graves leaned in your face. “That helped.”

You sulked by, noticing Ghost admiring his axe in the background, leaned up against the stone ledge.

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”

As you pass Gober grips Graves helmet and shoves him back, making him choke. “Ow-!”

You two walk back to the house, your annoyance stewing. “I really did hit one.”

“Sure you did.”

“He never listens.”

“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.

“And when he does it's always with this disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”

You turn just before the door, making a mock impression of your father, raising your eyebrows in anger. “Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring.” 

You raise your arms in annoyance, doing wild gestures. “I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!”

“Now, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand.” Gobber offers you a smile, to which your expression drops.

You sigh flatly. “Thank you for summing that up.”

“Look, I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to be what you're not.” Gobber says as you open the door to the house.

“I just.. wanna be one of you guys..” You say, closing the door behind you. 

Gobber sighs sadly, starting to leave, giving you space.

All the space you needed to sneak out of the back of the house. Immediately rushing down the back of the hill the house was set on…

“Either we finish them, or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in.” 

Stoick looks around the Meade hall, slamming his knife into a map on the table, seeing all the hesitation. 

“Those ships never come back!” One Viking calls out from the end of the long table.

“We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now who's coming with me?”

“Today's not good for me. I've gotta do my axe returns.” One mumbles.

Stoick leans back from the table. “Alright. Those who stay behind can look after y/n.”

Immediately every hand at the table went up. And Stoick nodded. “That’s more like it.”

Gobber sat at the table, finishing off a tankard of drink. “Alright, I'll pack my undies.”

Stoick came over to him, sitting next to him at the table. “No, I need you to stay here and train some new recruits.”

Gobber mulls over his cup, before replying sarcastically. “Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Y/n can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to themself... what could possibly go wrong?”

Stoick sighed, slouching slightly. “What am I going to do with them, Gobber?”

“Put them in training like the others.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

They look at each other, Stoick leaning his arm on the table. “They'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!”

“You don't know that.” Gobber goes back to his drink.

“I do, actually.”

“No, you don't.” Gobber points a finger at him.

“Listen, you know what their like.” He got up from the table. “From the time they could crawl, they've been… different.”

He walked around the table by the fire against the wall.

“They don't listen,” Gobber chokes on his drink as he listens. “They have the attention span of a sparrow.” Stoick goes on.

Gobber looks into his drink for his missing tooth which he previously choked on.

Stoick is still on. “I take them fishing and they go hunting for- for trolls!”

“Trolls are real!” Gobber points his drink arm at Stoick. “They steal your socks. But only the left ones… what's with that??”

Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”

“Oh here we go.” 

“My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him.” 

Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”

“You got a headache.”

“That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could- He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!” He gestures loud. “Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.” 

Stoick goes and sits at the table again, slouching. “Y/n is not that kid.”

“You can't stop them, Stoick. You can only prepare them. Look, I know it seems hopeless.” Gobber gestures his drink arm.

“But the truth is you won't always be around to protect them. Their going to get out there again. Their probably out there now.”

And he was right. Out the forest at Ravens point, he exasperatedly crossed another X in your book. You'd been searching everywhere for this damn dragon, eventually giving up.

“Oh the gods hate me…” you snapped the book shut. “Some people lose their knife or their mug, not me.”

You scuff your feet. “I manage to lose an entire dragon.” You walk down the path, angrily slapping a tree branch that comes right back at you.

Turning your attention to the part of the part that is disturbed. A large dirt train plowed through the land. 

You frown, following it up to a small hill. As you climb it, your eyes land sight of the dragon. You gasp, your heart racing as you immediately duck down. 

Your eyes go wide as you hide behind the mound, panting. What do you do?? What do you do??

You sat up, immediately searching for your knife. Grabbing it out shakily and holding it like your life depended on it.

You slid down the hill, hiding behind a large rock before poking out. Seeing the dragon tied up and caught in the net you'd flung it into. 

You disastrous human. How could you? How could you do this?

You smiled though, shocked, in pure shock. “Oh wow, this- this fixes everything!” You walked over, putting your foot on its shoulder. “I have brought down this mighty beast-”

The dragon bellows in pain, shrugging its shoulder to push you off, making you jump and scramble back.

You shake and pant as you hold your knife out in front of you, walking closer. You can see the dragon's blue green eyes on you, staring at you.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!” You hold the knife down, pointed at the beast.

The night fury breathes heavily, clearly scared as it stares at you with a sharp gaze, awaiting its horrific fate.

You raise the knife above your head, steeling yourself for the moment, peeling an eye open to look down at the dragon. It still stared at you, helpless, and scared.

You readjust the knife, taking a deep breath. The dragon moans, laying its head down and closing its eyes. Scared, but knowing it's fate. 

And that breaks you. It's the last noise of distress going unheeded to any cruel human that would have found him. 

You attempted to shoo the thought and claim its life, but instead.. you couldn't. You groaned, slumping the knife handle to the top of your head. 

You slumped, rubbing the side of your face and looking at the knife, then the dragon. No, no you couldn't do this. 

“I did this…” You slowly back up, returning to leave, but looking back at those ropes. 

You went back, and you started to cut. The dragon’s eyes shot open in an instant, looking over as you sawed the blade through the ropes and pulled it free. 

As soon as the last rope that freed its legs was off, it jumped at you, growling in your face as it pushed you to the ground.

Your head hit the edge of the rock as its claw kept your chest pinned. You gasped for air, looking up at the dragon, into its sharp eyes. 

The dragon growled down at you as you leaned your face away, your heart pounding. The dragon leaned his arm off your chest, slamming you down and roaring in your face. 

It turned and dashed, flying off, taking off lopsided and flying into a tree. It wailed when it hit the ground and then tried to take off again, wailing in pain as it flew into the fog.

You slowly reached for your knife, clutching your heart as your eyes remained blown wide. 

You tried to stand, your knees shaking like a deer and weak. You felt wheezy and like you would vomit at any moment. Not making it far before hitting the ground with a thud and falling unconscious.

It was late by the time you came home, walking into the house to see your father, Stoick stoking the fire, waiting for you.

You slowly closed the door, seeing him and attempting to rush by and head upstairs. Going full hands and knees rushed, but it was futile. 

“Y/n.”

“Dad, uh…” You swallowed awkwardly, your thoughts immediately rushing back to earlier that day and the shit you'd probably get into if he knew you let a night fury free…

“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”

Stoick stood, coming over. “I have to talk to you too, y/n.”

Both of you took deep breaths.

“I've decided I don't want-”

“I've decided it's time you learn-”

“To fight dragons. What??”

Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”

“No, no you go first.” You started to sweat a little, gripping the stairs, feeling your collar getting tight.

“All right.” Stoick sighs, massaging his knuckles. “You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.”

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” You panicked a lot, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, looking away.

“Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?”

Stoick leaned over, picking up an axe. “You'll need this.” He hands it to you, making you huff with the weight on your incredibly toothpick durability, q-tip quality arms.

“Gah-” you panicked, looking at him worriedly. “Dad, I don't want to kill dragons.” You protested. 

Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”

“Rephrase… Dad, I can't kill dragons.” you held the axe, your legs weak and your stomach churning sickeningly with the thought of being ignored in this.

“But you will kill dragons.”

Your worry grows, gripping the axe. “No, I'm very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time Y/n.”

“Can you not hear me!?” You ask desperately and exasperated.

“This is serious, y/n.”

He gestured. “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you.” Stoick picks the axe up from your arms and adjusts it. 

“Which means you walk like us.” He bunches your shoulders together and fixes your slouch. “You talk like us. You think like us. No more of…. This.” He gestured vaguely to you. 

“You just gestured to all of me.” You pouted.

“Deal??” Stoick asked, making your heart sink at once again being completely ignored.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.

“Deal…”

“Good.” He nods to you, not even touching you. He picked up his sack for the voyage and his Viking hat. 

“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here… maybe.”

“Welcome to dragon training.” Gobber says as you all enter the ring. A large stone pit tug into the groups full of armory and cages with chain domed across the top.

Ghost leads the group of teens into the ring, holding his axe firmly in his hand. He looks around, parts of his slightly long blonde hair hanging in front of his sharp brown eyes.

Such a warm color, such a cold stare. “No turning back.” He said to mostly himself, the others checking out the place.

Oh and there's you in the back. Toothpick. 

“I hope I get some serious burns.” Graves says.

“Yeah, I'm hoping for some maulings. Like on my shoulder or my lower back.” Soap commented with a grin.

Ghost spoke up, tilting his head. “Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.” He already had a few. From dragon fights? No. But scars nonetheless. He wanted a scar from the dragon's he killed. 

Even if he would have to force the mark. 

You mumbled sarcastically from the background. “Oh yeah… pain, great.. love it..”

They all look back, simultaneously looking at you with disgust, while Ghost just scrunched his nose. “Oh great, who let you in??” Graves complains.

“Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.” Gobber said, motioning you all into the middle of the rock pit. Closer to your doom.

“Well, Y/n already killed a Night Fury, so, does that disqualify him or…?” Graves smirked at you antagonistically.

“Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?” Soap added on to the taunt as they walked away without you.

Gobber got closer to you, smiling softly. “Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target! They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.”

With that Gobber explained the essence of dragon training. Behind each of the doors is a dragon. The training sessions will focus on an aspect of fighting. The person last standing against the dragon is to be the winner of the round.

Whoever wins in the end?? You get a brag tag for a good chunk of years.

Gobber went on. “Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight! The Deadly Nadder!” 

“Speed: eight; Armor: sixteen.” Gaz finally spoke up.

“The Hideous Zippleback!”

“Plus eleven stealth times two.”

“The Monstrous Nightmare!”

“Firepower: fifteen.”

“The Terrible Terror!” 

“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”

“CAN YOU STOP THAT?! And... the Gronckle!” Gobber snapped, getting to the last door. He hooked his interchangeable arm to the latch. 

“Woah, hang on- aren't you going to teach us first??” Graves asked in disbelief.

Gobber shrugged. “I believe in learning on the job.”

He pulled the door open and released the Gronckle. The others tensed up and watched the thing as it flew toward them, eyeing them all like snacks.

It swallowed some of the rocks set out and blasted it's fiery molten liquid at you four.

“Today is about survival. If you get blasted... you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?”

“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.

“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.

Ghost eyed the dragon, then around the ring. “A shield!” 

“Shields! Go!” Gobber instructed, Ghost being the first to turn and run for one. 

“Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!” 

You rushed to grab one, picking it up and heaving up the heavy thing. You attempted to find the arm strap, searching rapidly before Gobber came over. 

Exasperation filled as he lifted it up and shoved it gently into your chest.

Graves grabbed a shield with skulls on it, Soap frowning. “Hey!” The only shield left being one with flowers.

“Take that one, that one has flowers.” Graves teased, pouting his lip at Soap. 

“But- ah!” Soap was thrown to the ground when the Gronckle’s tail hit him in the side.

“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.

“What…??”

“Shields are good for another thing. Making lots of noise. Throw the dragon's aim off!”

You, Ghost, Graves, and Gaz all start banging your shields, the Gronckle's eyes crossing and trying to shake the disorientation off.

“All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?” Gobber asks.

You all circle around the dragon, it's eyes trying to focus on anything. You rush back to a corner, hiding back behind one of the armor walls, holding your shield in the crack. 

Pussy.

“Uh, five??” Graves replies while he rushes away.

“No, six!” Gaz counters. 

“That's correct. Six. One for each of you.”

The Gronckle gets its surroundings back and blasts molten at Gaz’s shield, making him cry with surprise.

“Gaz, you're out!”

Gaz gulps and yells as he runs for safely of the out zone. 

Gobber notices you. “Y/n! Get in there!!”

You attempt to move away from your wall only to get a blast thrown at you. Fearing you scuffling back away, Gobber ones over and pushes you into the ring again.

Ghost faced the Gronckle as it came around again, ready to take it down, distributing his weight well. 

Graves came right up behind him, rolling his shoulders. “So, anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out.”

Ghost rolls his eyes and starts to move, Graves looking surprised. “You look like you work out!”

The Gronckle fires it's shot for Ghost at Graves, hitting his shield. “Graves! You're done!”

Ghost rolled over next to you, both of you the only two left. You looked nervously over at him. He's so cool. Just a tad taller than you. Lanky but you can see he has muscle definition on his arms. 

He's just.. ah! A real Viking. That's what your dad wants you to be.

“I uh.. guess it's just you and me now huh?” You ask him nervously.

He glowers before lifting his head. “Nope, just you.” He dashes out of the way, the Gronckle fires. 

“Gah!!” You raise your shield to take the blow meant for Ghost. The shield knocks from your hand, barely missing you. 

Without shield and one shot left you run back for your shield, the Gronckle hot on your track. The shield rolls away from you across the ground, looking back and you panic seeing the dragon right there.

“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.

It manages to corner you to the wall. Face right against your chest. Your heart pounds, your limbs feel cold and rigid, and on fire all at once. 

It opens its mouth and down its throat the molten glow of its last shot, before a hook pulls it away. It blasts it's shot into the wall and you cover your head, curling up.

Gobber drags the dragon back away.

“And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!” He shoves it back into the pen and closes the door.

“You'll get another chance, don't you worry.” He says to you as he walks back over, bending down. “Remember: a dragon will always- always- go for the kill.”

He grabs your arm and picks you up. You looked at the wall where the charred remains of the burn flickered down the rock incline…

Leading you back to the site of the crash, your curiosities got to you as you picked up one of the rocks on the bola. Where you'd freed the night fury from.

“So… why didn't you??” 

Why hadn't the dragon gone for the kill. You would have stabbed it, you had a weapon for crying out loud! It had every opportunity… and it didn't.

You place the bola down, standing and hopping over a log. Walking the path down to a split between two rock digs. You slipped through the small passage, which opened up. 

The tall rock face harbors trees and a small lake. It was nice… peaceful. The tall walls of rock keep it hidden and closed.

“This was stupid.” You say, moments before looking over and seeing a couple of black scales resting down the dirt incline down into the small crop.

The dragon.

You kneel down and pick one up, looking it over before hearing a roar. In an instant you jump back in fear as the Night Fury dives up over the small passage, climbing at the walls.

It's claws dig in, scrambling frantically and attempting to flap its wings and get over the edge of the rock.

You watched as it wailed and gave up, falling back and gliding awkwardly over the pond and landing on its side across on the other side.

Pant, scared but fascinated. Watched the dragon moan in sadness and pain. You hop down from the ledge, scrambling onto another rock stool and watch the night fury as it moves about.

It tries several more times to fly. Flapping its wings and hopping up but never managing to pull itself over the ledge. Crying angrily as it lands.

Your eyes widen, pulling out your sketchbook. No Night Fury had ever been recorded, you had to do this. Wow wow.

You quickly sketched up a drawing of the dragon, watching it snarl angrily. 

“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 

The dragon snarls and shoots a plasma blast at the ground.

Looking at the dragon you notice it only has one tail fin, while your drawing has two. You rub away the charcoal with your sleeve, your curiosities only growing.

The dragon tries to fly, swerving along the rock and slamming down onto the ground. It whines in pain, it's nose near the water's edge. Noticing some fish. It perks up in hope, diving its head into the water, but the fish are fast enough to escape its attempts.

It whines, still hungry.

In a moment of weakness, you feel bad for the creature. Why was this happening, why was it stuck here?? Your pencil rolled from between your fingers. 

Your eyes widened but before you could grab it it fell down the steep rock. Bouncing on the rocks and attracting the Night Fury’s attention.

You froze, and it froze. Both of you are looking at each other. It glares at you, growling low. But it looks.. curious in a way.

When you finally make your way to the Meade hall it's late. You'd spent all your time watching the night fury and becoming so fascinated that you didn't care to come back. Until now.

Walking in and seeing the other teens gathered around Gobber. Talking over strategies and what happened in the ring.

“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”

“I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble.” Ghost said with some sarcasm as he poked at his food.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.

“No no, you were great. That was so… “Ghost.”” Graves said, once again attempting to land an unflattering attempt.

“He's right, you have to be tough on yourselves.” Gobber notices you walk in soaked, coming to the table. “Where did Y/n go wrong?”

“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.

“Their didn't get eaten??” Graves said.

“Their never where they should be.” Ghost said, watching you with a nasty look as you scoot yourself over to the next table, knowing you weren't welcome around them.

Gobber walked over to you. “Thank you, Ghost.” He smacks Soap and Graves in the head. “You need to live and breathe this stuff. The dragon manual.” He holds up a book. 

Leather bound with a dragon symbol burned into the front, tied with string to keep old pages together.

He cleared a part of the table and put the book down. “Everything we know about every dragon we know of.”

Thunder crackled overhead, Gobber sighed, knowing lightning to come. “No attacks tonight. Study up for tomorrow.” 

“Wait, you mean, read??” Graves frowned, crossing his arms.

“Well maybe it would do you some good.” Gaz spoke up.

“Shut your mouth, I don't need to read nothing! Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you about??”

“Oh! I've read it like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And- And there's this other one that buries itself for like a week-”

“Yeah, that sounds great. So there's a chance I was going to read it…” Soap starts.

“But not now.” Graves says, causing Soap to glare at him a little.

Even if they all were irritable brats at the age of sixteen, they all had some kind of friendship with each other. Some kind… more than they had with you. Because you're a loser. 

Your eyes drift back over to Ghost who hadn't said a word about the book while the others bicker. Dragging his knuckles along the side of his tankard. 

You could see the scars that started just before his wrist guards hid them away. Occasional Knicks and scratches along his arms and biceps. 

Must have been from falls or accidents because he'd not properly fought a dragon or a hunter…

The others move from the table to go back home. You get up, going to the book by where Ghost sat. “So I guess we’ll… share??”

“Read it.” He pushed the book, getting up and walking off.

“Oh, uh, all mine, then. Wow. So, ok, I'll see you…” You looked up as the door shut. They were already gone…

The hall was dark with only you in it. You sat down at the table with a candle and opened the book.

Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class.

You started to read. Reading through the book, the endings of each of the entries being extremely deadly: kill on sight.

Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.

You continued to flip the pages. “Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out.”

“Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…” 

Through every page of every class. Until you got to the end.

You flipped the last page. At the top it said Night Fury. The page being otherwise almost completely empty.

“Night Fury: Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon.” 

You hesitated on the last part. “Your only chance: Hide and pray it does not find you.”

You pulled out your sketchbook, dropping the sketch of the Night Fury on the page. You had found a Night Fury. It had let you close. It .. hadn't killed you.

You stood the next day in the training ring, in the middle of a training session. Holding your shield and axe, you shifted from one foot to the other. Surrounded by a maze of tall builds all put together for the Deadly Nadder to find and kill you.

“You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?”

The Deadly Nadder jumps atop one of the lofts, firing at you, taking off the head of your axe. “Gah!”

“Focus y/n! You're not even trying!” Gobber scolds. 

“Today is all about ATTACK! Nadders are quick and light on their feet! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!” Gobber continues.

Gaz gasped, running away as the Nadder searches him out. Throwing spikes from its tail at him, sinking into the wall above his head and his shield.  “Ah!! I'm really starting to question your teaching methods!!”

Gobber, undeterred, continues. “Look for it's Blindspot. Every dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike.”

You rush by as Soap turns a corner, coming face to snout with the Nadder. He gasps, holding in a breath as it moves its head, attempting to stay in the Blindspot. 

“Steamin’ hell… this thing stinks.” He wheezes. “Do you ever bathe??” He gags, trying to cover his mouth.

The Nadder turns its head, growling and spitting fire at him. “Ah!”

“Blind spot? Yes. Deaf spot? Not so much.” Gobber grins, leaning his face against his palm as he watched from above the chain net. 

Seeing Ghost running through the intricate maze, you hanging on his tail like a mouse finding safety with the cat.

You pause, looking up at Gobber. “Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?”

“No one's ever seen one and loved to tell the tale.” He snaps his fingers. “Now get in there!!”

“Y/n.” Ghost whispers your name. You turn to see Ghost kneeled down by one of the platforms, Graves behind him, nodding to you to be quiet. You skip over, hiding against the wall.

Ghost pokes his head out, seeing the Nadder coming around. He hides again, taking a deep breath and preparing himself before rolling forward on his shield. 

He pushes off, hiding behind the next wall, Graves following and doing the same. When you attempt it, the shield does not follow your small body through the roll, trapping you against the ground.

The Nadder sees you, and runs. “Gah!” You scramble up and run. The Nadder roars and flies up on top of the walls, jumping down in front of Ghost. 

He readied himself but Graves pushed him aside. “Watch out babe, I'll take care of this.”

“Hey!” Ghost growls at him, seething at him as he throws his weapon, completely missing.

The Nadder growls, Ghost glaring at him. “The sun was in my eyes, Ghost.” The Nadder roars, Ghost making a run for it away from that meat head. 

“What do you want me to do?? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don't have time!” He dodges the attack, running after Ghost as the Nadder makes chase.

Graves continues rambling, looking back and making a swift turn down another aisle. Ghost looks back, gasping and crying as the Nadder is seconds away from him. He dashes around the corner and turns, slamming into the wall.

The Nadder follows, roaring at him as Ghost scrambles and runs, the walls starting to knock over from the collision.

You were still rambling to Gobber like an idiot. “Like so they take the daytime off?? Like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one, napping??”

Gobber looks up from his bored expression as Graves run by. 

“Y/n!” 

The walls of the maze collapse, the Nadder snapping at Ghost’s heels as he jumps up across one of the falling walls. He jumps to another wall, and you're right in his landing path.

“Y/n!!” He yells, and jumps. You scramble back, falling on the ground as he lands with a thud on top of you.

“Ooh,” Soap teases. 

Ghost glares at you, shoving your face away and attempting to stand, his axe lodged in your shield. 

“Hey, why- let me… why don't you…?” He shoves your chest down, standing up, his knee between your legs causing you to gasp in pain. 

He does not care. Grabbing his axe angrily trying to pry it away. The Nadder turns back, readying its shot for you and Ghost.

Ghost sees it and grows more panicked, grabbing his axe, his foot landing on your cheek. “Ow! Ow! Ow!!”

He attempts to pull his axe away as the Nadder comes closer.

He finally pries it from your arm and swings his axe at the Nadder’s face, your shield splintering. 

The Nadder cries in pain and turns, walking off. Ghost pants, looking off in panic as he grips his axe.

“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.

Ghost doesn't respond, the interaction having a grip on his core. Before his fear replaced with anger and he turned to you, curled up in the fetal position.

“Is this some kind of a joke to you!? Our parents' war is about to become ours!” He points his axe at you. “Figure out which side you're on.” 

Back to trying again with the Night Fury. You head down to the cove, bringing a new shield. Propping it between two rocks and tossing a fish into the open. You slide under it, crawling on your hands and knees.

Once on the other side you attempt to pry the shield out but it's stuck. You sigh, heading over to the fish and picking it up by under the fin. 

You look around, slowly walking into the open. Feeling slightly panicky, but you've had decent luck with this dragon so far. What with it not eating you the first time. 

Perhaps it was wise enough to know you weren't worth it. You'd be more of a chew toy than a hefty meal.

You walk along the pond, looking around for the night fury, aware it had eyes on you minutes earlier. It peers out from a rock as it watches you pass. It's eyes focus on you, tail swishing.

Finally it comes down from the rock, and you see it from your peripheral. You gasp, gripping the fish tight as the dragon comes down and around, sniffing the snack in your hand, growling at you.

You hold the fish out. Would it take it?? It cranes its body sideways like a cat, tilting its head and sniffing the treat. 

It's pupils softening before growling and jumping back. Your hand retreats with the fish, gasping softly. 

You pull your sweater open, your knife tucked into your clothes. When you reach for it, the dragon snarls. 

You gasp, feeling your heartbeat picking up again, slowly removing the knife and dropping it.

The dragon's ears go down, growling away, and you kick the knife away into the pond.

Afterwhich, the dragon relaxes, pupils softening again. It sits, ear flicking. It continues to hold its body arched like a cat as it comes over when you extend the fish again.

“Ah, Toothless.” You say, seeing his gummy mouth and lack of teeth. “I could have sworn you had-” His teeth suddenly snap out and he snatches the fish from your hands. 

Your eyes widen as he scarfs down the snack. “-Teeth…”

He enjoys his snack before looking back at you, lowering his head and coming over.

“Ah, ah.. uh, I don't have any more.” You stammer, backing up and tripping over your heel back against a rock.

Toothless gurgled, looking at you before starting to regurgitate his food. You tense up, cringing a little when he spits up part of the fish in your lap.

“Ugh…”

He sits back, looking at you expectantly. His eyes move from the fish, then to you when you do nothing.

You sigh, hesitantly taking a bite of the food, retching it up, putting a hand over your mouth and forcing yourself to swallow it.

Toothless perks up, you shudder and look up at him, attempting to smile after that…. Delicious cuisine.

You smile awkwardly. Toothless frowns, before attempting to smile back. His lip twitching and showing his gummy smile that he gives you. 

Your eyes widen a little. This… was not a kill on sight dragon. This wasn't something you'd slaughter for sport. 

He was smiling at you. Why, from all the dragon's you'd ever been taught about, the most deadly was smiling at you. Sharing his food…

You slowly stand, extending your hand, to which Toothless’ smile drops. He growls, and flies off, crying as he spirals against the wind, only able to drift and hit the ground a ways away. 

He huffs against the dirty, slowly getting up and shaking himself off. He walks over to a small hill, blasting a controlled amount of heat against the ground, charring it into a nice warm bed.

He looks up at a bird in its nest, chirping and flying away. And then… he sees you. How unsightly. No one wants to see that before bed.

He groans and curls up. Folding in his wings and wrapping his tail around his face to keep him well hidden and secured.

You smile, inching a little closer. You boldly reach out to touch his tail, but Toothless is one step ahead. He lifts his tail, huffing at you. 

You quickly stand, wobbling on shaky legs and awkwardly walking away from him. Toothless stares dully, getting up and moving from his spot, somewhere you surely couldn't get him.

Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.

You let him be. Sitting on a rock a couple feet away. Wasting away the time until the evening rolled around and Toothless slowly came out of his nap.

Moving his tail and looking over at you, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

He gurgled, hopping down and quietly coming over to see what you were doing.

You rested your cheek against your fist, aimlessly drawing a little figure of Toothless in the dirt.

Toothless watches curiously, purring a growl and getting up on his back legs. He waddled away. You look back when you hear the snapping of a tree branch. 

Toothless comes back with his own drawing stick, purring and trailing it around in the dirt.

You watch him in shock and surprise as toothless drags the stick around, smiling and clutching it tight in his mouth. 

He purrs as he swirls and twists around, finally finishing his creation of spirals and mapping trails between you and him.

You finally stand, looking around at what he's created. All the lines and the paths. You walk out toward one of the lines. When your foot steps on it, Toothless growls. 

It shocks you a little, looking over at him and quickly taking your foot off the line. Toothless raises his head, purring at you in response.

You put your foot on the line, and he growls.

Taking it off, Toothless purred.

You did it a couple of times before understanding. It's trust. Toothless is offering trust. You smile softly, stepping over the line, aware of where your feet when as he stepped around and over the lines. 

Finally stopping with your back to Toothless. You sink a little, feeling a warm breath fan across the nape of your neck and down your back.

You turn and look up at him. Toothless’ gaze is soft. You pant softly, reaching your hand up. Toothless pulls his head away slightly, growling a little.

You pull your hand back, looking into his eyes. So you turn away. Closing your eyes and extending your hand again. 

Toothless’ eyes soften. He looks at your palm, leaning his head forward and hesitating, before gently leaning his nose into your palm, closing his eyes.

You exhale softly in surprise, feeling it. Toothless… trusts you. This was trust.

You looked up at Toothless. His eyes narrow again. He pulled away, wriggling his nose and huffing before dashing off.

The incident didn't leave your mind. Even when you went home, you couldn't face anyone after the thought of Toothless. 

Sat atop the watch tower with Gobber and the others, roasting food over the crackling fire while he went on about a tale.

You weren't particularly listening, your gaze focused on your fingers, slowly turning the stick that was jabbed through your fish.

“...And with one twist, he took my hand, and swallowed it whole!” Gobber waved his stick, with a whole chicken on the end of it. 

“And I saw the look on his face: I was delicious. He must have passed the word, because it wasn't a month before another one of them took my leg.”

Gaz frowned in concentration, digging into his food. “Isn't it weird to think that your hand was inside a dragon?” He motioned one of the meat legs toward Ghost, who glared and shifted away.

What was that idiots problem. Ghost was close to biting his arm off.

“Like if your mind was still in control of it, you could have killed the dragon from the inside by... crushing his heart, or something.” Gaz continued, Graves staring at him from across the firepit as it grew silent.

“Right…” Graves muttered. “I swear, I'm so angry right now! I'll avenge your beautiful hand and your beautiful foot. I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight. With my face!” 

“Un-unh. It's the wings and the tails you really want. If it can't fly, it can't get away. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” Gobber said, snapping a leg off his chicken.

Your eyes slowly widen. Toothless. Toothless was down. That's the first thing you'd listened to all night. Pulled from your stupor of pointless thoughts.

Gobber yawned and got up. “Alright. I'm off to bed. You should be, too. Tomorrow we get to the big boys. Slowly but surely making our way up to the Monstrous Nightmare. But who'll win the honor of killing it?”

“It's gonna be me! It's my destiny, see??” Soap rolled up his sleeve, showing his arm.

“Woah, your mom let you get a tattoo??”

“It's not a tattoo, it's a birthmark.”

“I've known you literally since we were babies, and I've never seen that.” Graves replies. 

“Yes, it was. You've just never seen me from the left side until now.”

After hearing what Gobber had said about dragons, your interests turn to the forge. If you're going to get Toothless out of there alive you'd need to help him. 

It wouldn't be on his own…

Ghost watched you, cold gaze following as you walked away from the fire and back down the watch tower. 

You headed to the forge quickly, pulling out your sketchbook and laying it out on the table. Alright, now for something that could help Toothless. Time to get to work.

You worked long into the night. Heating the forge and putting together a device that you knew would help. You worked until your eyes were heavy and the sunrise poked over the edge of the water.

Finally putting out the flames and grabbing what you could, you headed back to the house. Stumbling inside and slumping into your hard bed for just an ounce of sleep.

After a bit of rest and recuperating you headed out a few hours later, ready to help Toothless. Your plan was foolproof. And you brought along a giant basket of fish just for it.

When you got back to the cove, Toothless was waiting for you. “Hey Toothless, I brought you some fish.” You set down the basket and kicked it over with your foot. “We've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod…”

Toothless began to sniff through the fish, nudging through to find the good stuff.

“And a whole smoked eel…” You slowly stepped around the pile when toothless growled. He backed up, snarling at the pile. 

You tilted your head and reached in, pulling out the eel. Toothless saw it and expanded his wings in defense, roaring loudly.

“No, no no no! It's ok!” You quickly threw the eel away and placed out your hand to him, your contraption firmly under the other.

He huffed and you wiped your hand on your coat. “Yeah, I don't much like eel either…”

And Toothless went sniffing through the pile of fish again, wolfing down a few without wasting time.

“That's it…” you slowly backed up behind him. “That's it. Just stick with the good stuff.” 

You slowly set up the wing you'd made. “And don't you mind me I'll be back here…  minding my own business…”

You attempted to wrangle Toothless’ tail. Strapping the belts around it as he dug around the basket. Having to sit on his tail and gently spread open the fabric.

When you finally got it hooked on, you sat back. “Hey, doesn't look half bad.”

Toothless’ head perked up as soon as he felt it. A weight on his other tail. He slowly patted his feet into the ground. He could fly… he could fly.

Toothless spread his wings, and took off. “Woah! Whooaa!!” You gasped, seeing the ground suddenly falling away from you. You leaned down, grabbing and holding onto Toothless’ tail tightly.

“No no no!!” You cried as Toothless darted for the coves edge. You watched wide eyed, your adrenaline pumping.

The tail had closed and was flailing in the wind, Toothless starting to lose air. 

Oh fuck oh fuck. You managed to pry one sweaty hand from his tail and pull it open. Toothless caught air and zoomed up into the sky. 

“Oh, my…! It's working!!” You cried as Toothless flew away from the island. He twisted in the air, flying back over the cove and back across the pond. 

“Yes! Yes! I did it!”

Toothless looked back. What the?? Why is this toothpick still hanging on to me!? 

He twisted upside down and flicked his tail, tossing you into the pond and flew away. 

Losing control of himself, he shrieked as he slammed back into the ground across the lake. He looked at the folded in tail angrily. 

You swam above the water furiously, smiling. “Yeah!” You splashed.

The next day at training you were faced with the Hideous Zippleback. Teamed up with Gaz, your goal was to work together to disarm the two headed dragon of its abilities.

One head spreading flammable gas, the other head lights that gas.

“Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion. Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-”

You frowned at Gaz, gripping your bucket tight. “Would you please stop that!?”

As more gas filled the arena, Graves and Soap turned back to back, looking around for any sign of the dragon.

“If that dragon shows either of his faces, I'm gonna- there!” Graves spotted something through the gas, both him and Soap frantically throwing their buckets of water.

The gas cleared, and there stood hell itself. A soaking. Wet. Ghost.

Oh.

“Oh it's just Ghost, we thought you were a dragon!” Soap shrinks back, smiling like an awkward idiot. 

“Well, clearly,” he snapped coldly. “I am not!”

“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”

Graves hit Soap with his elbow. “Not that there's nothing wrong with a…” Ghost was already marching toward him.

“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 

Ghost punched him hard in the nose, sending him back. He landed on his butt, before he could get up something snatched him into the gas.

Ghost put his arm in front of Soap. “Wait.” He whispered. 

There was a cry and Graves ran from the smoke. “Ow! Ow!”

Gaz gulped, you and him still back to back. “Chances of survival are dwindling in the single digits now…”

One of the dragon's heads peered out from the smoke and came toward you two. Sharp yellow eyes trained on Gaz.

“Woah, Woah!” He scrambled back as it cornered him, and he threw his bucket of water onto it.

The dragon rippled a growl, gas billowing from beyond its maw. 

“Oh… wrong head.” He smiled awkwardly. It drenched Gaz in gas, Gobber calling out for him, and Gaz made a run for it.

Leaving you the last one with a water bucket. Both of the heads now coming around, the dragon facing you from both sides. 

One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.

“Now y/n!” Gobber said.

You raised your water bucket. “Eh.” You threw it up, the water barely hitting the dragon. “Oh come on…”

You. Are completely… and utterly useless… be thankful you have a dragon now or you would not survive let me tell you. 

The dragon surrounded you. “Y/n!” Gobber yelled, coming over.

But I admit, what you lack in physical strength you make up in your capacity to learn. 

Standing up slowly, the dragon snarled and whipped back. You pulled the eel from your vest, holding it out to them.

“Back! Back!” You snapped, the dragon snarling and backing away from the eel.

“That's right! Back in your cage!” You corralled it back in, slamming the door shut with all the might you had. Which isn't much.

The others watched. Ghost’s signature glare burning into your skin. This was fucking ridiculous.

You clapped your hands together. “So uh… are we done??” They all stared at you wordlessly. “Because I uh.. I got some stuff to do so I'll just… yeah. See you tomorrow!”

You smiled, spending the rest of the day at the forge. Creating some more things you could use in your adventures with Toothless.

Putting together a saddle.

You brought it to Toothless and when he saw it he smiled. Perking up and running away. “Hey!” You laughed, running after him. 

Toothless gurgled and fled around the ground as you chased after him.

After getting the saddle on you learned pretty quickly you'd need some way to hold on. After a failed fly test force Toothless to panic and throw you off his back into the water again. 

No problem, just a little waist retainer was all that was needed. Hooking it onto the saddle and having another go.

The second time was slightly better. You'd tied a rope around your ankle that would help you pull the tail fin open. 

Toothless roared when you tried again, losing control in the air just after getting out of the cove. 

“Hold hold ha!!” You cried as Toothless squirmed and fell into a bed of tall dragon nip. 

You stumbled, looking around the tall grass and going back to see Toothless rolling around comfortably in the grass. Relaxing fully in total relaxation.

Huh. Odd. 

You picked up some of the nip, looking at it curiously. Again, it's best you have a bigger head than bigger biceps. 

When faced with a Gronckle for the next training exercise, you ended things quickly. It crashed into Graves and went for you. You held up the dragon nip you had taken and it immediately slowed down.

The Gronckle crashed to the ground and you rubbed the dragon nip against its nose. 

The villagers gathered around the top of the pit to watch you in awe, the village elder also noticing how much you'd suddenly improved your dragon prowess in recent days. 

After which all the teens were gathered around you. Well, almost all of them.

“Wow, how did you do that??” Soap asked.

“I never would have thought about that-” Gaz piped up.

“I've never even seen a Gronckle do that!” Graves blurted. 

Ghost trained behind, watching as you laughed awkwardly. “Oh I uh, I left my axe in the ring.” You turned, bumping into Ghost as you did. 

He jumped, pushing you lightly and you went around him. “Sorry, sorry.” 

They watched, the others smiling excitement. Ghost glaring down your whole existence.

Spending more time with Toothless, you began to introduce the fondness of scratches and pets. Scratching the patches of scales along his neck and ear fins.

Toothless groaned, leaning up into it, turning his head and closing his eyes. You scratched under his chin and he went limp, falling to the ground with a content exhale. 

The next day, back in training. 

Ghost yelled, throwing his axe at the deadly Nadder that turned, running back over to you two. It roared loudly, pushing Ghost to the ground, skinning his upper arm. 

You readied yourself, quickly dropping the axe as the Nadder ran to you. 

Ghost scrambled back up, grabbing his axe. His heart pounded as he lifted it and ran. You noticed him and turned quickly to the Nadder.

You reached up, scratching behind its ear, down to its chin and right… there.

The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.

Ghost panted, lowering his axe in disbelief. You smiled at him and shrugged.

This continued on. Spending time with Toothless you learned he was just like a cat. 

Using a hammer to shine a light across the ground, you watched with amusement as Toothless chased after it. Hopping and purring to catch it.

Training faced you with the Terrible Terror. Which admittedly you didn't expect it to be as small as it was.

“Meet the Terrible Terror.”

A small door attached to the main door opened, like a cat door. The tiny dragon scuttling out, licking its eyeball, staring at you all.

“Aw, it's like the size of my- ah!!” Soap jumped back as the Terror jumped at him. You all scattered as Soap landed on the ground, the terror chewing on his nose. 

“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”

The Terror perked up, seeing a light moving across the ground. It flicked its tail, smiling and rushing from Soap after the light. 

You guided it with the shiny part of your shield back into its small hut, closing the door with your foot.

“Wow, he's better than you ever were.” Soap rubs his nose, looking at Ghost.

After which you spent more time working on a harness and a better string attachment for the tail fin.

When rushed through the woods up ran into Ghost, throwing his axe into different trees, training his aim.

He raised his axe, pausing when he saw you. You two looked at each other, and then you rushed off. You couldn't let him see Toothless. 

When Ghost turned to follow after you, you had somehow already disappeared. 

Fuck!

You began to work on the positions of your contraption with Toothless. Strapping him to a tree stump so you could write down the number of each foot turn.

Able to move your heel and shift the position of the tailfin through the rope.

“Position one.” You shifted the lever, writing it down on your little piece of paper. “And position two.” He shifts it, Toothless' wings catching air and the rope snapped. 

“Gah!” You gasped as you were thrown back to the ground. 

Toothless groaned and rolled over, pulling you up by the waist, the waist retainer stuck to the clip of Toothless' saddle.

“Oh brother…”

Forced to drag Toothless back to the village while still tangled together, you snuck past a few guards and led him into the smithing shop. 

You looked around for something to pry the hook open, Toothless shoving his nose in a basket. When he flicked it off, it hit one of the weapons on the wall, causing noise.

Ghost who was passing, heading back, begrudgingly home, heard it.

He walked over to the smithing window. “Y/n?? Are you in there??”

Both you and Toothless looked up. You quickly dropped what you were doing and pushed yourself out the smithing window, looking at him. 

“Ghost- hi, Ghost. Hi, hi… hi Ghost.” You fumbled with the waist trainer. Toothless sniffing around and pulling you back against the doors.

Toothless looked around, spotting a sheep. The sheep spotted him, immediately rushing away. 

“I normally don't care what people do but you're acting weird.”. Ghost points an accusatory finger. “Well, weirder.”

You huffed, stumbling back. The trainer lifted you off your feet. Ghost stared at you as the doors of the smithing window gave in and sucked you back. Ghost immediately rushed over and opened it, seeing the smelter empty. 

You and Toothless sneaking away and flying off. That. Was. Way too close…

That day was the day your father arrived back. One of the boats with several holes in it and barely survived. Their search for a nest of dragons once again produced no fruit.

Gobber was there when Stoick arrived back. “Well, I trust you found the nest at least?”

“Not even close.” He growled, walking past with a fixed frown.

“Oh. Excellent.” Gobber said sarcastically, following Stoick. 

“I hope you had a little more success than me.”

“Well, if by success, you mean that your parenting troubles are over with, then... yes.” He took a basket of supplies over his shoulder while he walked.

Various different Vikings congratulating Stoick on his kid actually becoming vikinglike. Can you imagine that eh?

“Their gone??” Stoick asked.

“Yeah... most afternoons. But who can blame them? I mean the life of a celebrity's very rough. They can barely walk through the village without being swarmed by his new fans.” Gobber replied.

“Y/n??”

“Who would have thought it eh? He has this… way with the beasts.”

Stoick’s eyes widened. Yes. What he'd been waiting for your entire life!

Off somewhere near the edge of the island, you were busy with Toothless. Having written up your complete cheat sheet, you secured the small paper with all of your positions to Toothless' saddle. Slowly gliding through the air.

“Alright bud we're gonna take this nice and slow” You looked over the sheet. “Here we go, here we go. Position…” 

“Three. No… four.” You looked down at the foot pedal and positioned it, the tail fin opening. Toothless looked down at it, wiggling his head and getting used to it. 

The gentle glide turned into a slow fly, Toothless guiding with your help through the winds, his wings catching air flawlessly.

Toothless flew you up into the air, passing some clouds. You held on, looking back at the tail fin. “Alright. It's go time, it's go time.”

Toothless roared and dove down toward the sea stacks littering around the island ocean.

“Come on buddy! Come on buddy!” You encourage. You held onto the saddle tightly when Toothless flew down over the water, the waves lapping up to touch his belly as you went by. 

You looked up as you passed through two connected sea stacks, watching the birds startle and fly off. “Yes, it worked!” 

The tail was holding up so far.

You flew up away from the water, attempting to make a turn and throwing Toothless into a sea stack. He growled and flapped violently. “Sorry!” You winced.

Barely recovering you saw another stack, attempting to pull him up sharply and hitting another. He growled again. “It was my fault.” You cringed.

He hit you with his ear. “Yeah yeah, I'm on it. Position four- uh, three.” You shifted the foot pedal and took off into the sky. Soaring up over the sea stacks and into the fluffy clouds.

“Yeah!! Aw this is nice. The wind in my -” the paper attached to the saddle flew off and into the wind. “Cheat sheet!” You reached back to try and grab it. 

“Stop!!” 

Toothless flapped his wings, halting as best he could, sending you forward. The hook on the waist belt and the saddle came off. 

“No!!” Toothless saw you and panicked, falling back and scrambled. “No!! Oh no!!” You yelled as you fell and spiraled in the sky down toward the sea.

Toothless roared when he saw you falling faster than him. “Oh, gods! Oh, no!!” You cried your lungs out.

“Alright! You gotta kind angle yourself!” You flipped onto your back, trying to help Toothless. “Okay, no, no, no... come back down towards me! Come back down-- YOW!” Toothless’ tail smacked you as you fell. 

You flipped onto your front, reaching out to grab the hook on the saddle, just out of reach. 

Toothless wailed and cried when you finally grabbed it, managing to pull yourself on. Reattaching and gripping the saddle, angled downward. 

The cheat sheet hit you in the face and you grabbed it, putting it between your teeth. You zoomed straight toward a downward plain of trees, trying to pull Toothless back up.

He roared and whined, zooming down at an angle over the trees, his wings catching wind. As you zoomed down to the bottom you pulled the cheat sheet again. With all the wind you couldn't read anything on it.

Looking between the sheet and some sea stacks, you tossed the sheet,grabbing the saddle and readjusting the foot pedal. 

Toothless roared and zoomed to the side, making the corner before you could hit the stones.

You zoomed through the various passages, shifting the foot pedal again through the fog. Coming shooting out the other side into the clear open air. 

You panted, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Yeah!!” You raised your arms. Toothless smiled and shit a blast into the air, ruining your celebration. “Come on…”

You were pummeled into the fire, pushing your hair back and covering your clothes in specs of dirt and char. 

You flew with Toothless some more, your adventure leading you back to a sea stack, there you got some fish and made a small fire.

Toothless laid down, retching up one of his fish heads while you leaned back against him, cooking your own dinner over the fire.

“Uh, no thanks, I'm good.” You refused the fish head. 

Some small dragons spotted you and flew over to your little set up. Those tiny Terrible Terrors. Toothless growled, protecting his fish as they came over, snapping at one.

You watched as one of them grabbed the head of the fish Toothless had belched up and shot at another dragon who tried to take it.

Toothless watches unimpressed, when his food started moving. One of the dragon's trying to sneak a fish from his pile. Toothless growled, grabbing the fish in his teeth and pulling it back. 

The Terror whined, causing toothless to bellow a low laugh. 

The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 

You looked between the two as it stood up on its back legs and inhaled. Before it could do anything Toothless shot a small blast at it, inflating it and it puffed out smoke, whining. 

You chuckled. “Not so fireproof on the inside are ya?” You tossed one of your fish. “Here ya go.” It scuttled over and wolfed it down quickly. 

Licking its eyeball and cautiously wandering over to you. It whines, curling up beside you, purring softly.

“Everything we know about you guys… It's wrong.”

Unfortunately it won't let me post this much so to read the rest of it please see the reblog I did for the rest of the post. ❤

[puppetmaster13u]

I am slowly rotatin a crossover idea. A Batman and Flight Rising crossover, but perhaps slightly httyd themed-ish. Because I am just weak to feral cryptid batfam, and I am also weak to dragon-rider batfam.

So there are dragon hunters, vikings, general people living on islands, by shore, etc. Less modern, more httyd-fantasy-esque. But there's also things like the mechanical golems and such that can be found in FR. So less technology, more magic and spellwork and runework. Which I mean, already exists in base DC anyway.

Now the batfam specifically, I adore and love the idea of batfam living with dragons almost Valka style with a hint more feral.

Now here is what I think each of their backgrounds and an idea for each dragon would be.

Alfred- He still raises Bruce after his parents death at their request, but also might have gotten carried off by dragons. Thankfully, they were not part of the local Queen's nest meaning he didn't get eaten. He's done his best to raise Bruce- and the children he keeps bringing back the the dragon Nest to not be completely feral.

Bruce- Like Alfred, he was carried away by dragons in the middle of a raid. Technically he was actually in Alfred's arms but y'know. He was about nine at that point and spent a large chunk of his childhood playing and wrestling with dragons. Will I be including dragonese in this? Good question. Despite Alfred's protests the moment he was old enough he started sneaking out of the Nest and both watching and gathering things from any nearby- or far away in some cases- human settlements. Eventually Alfred gives up and goes along with him to properly teach bartering and such- and Bruce ended up in a couple of apprenticeships, including a couple with blacksmiths. Which helps when he starts creating his own designs and ideas.

Dick- Bruce kind of just spirited him away after the death of his parents. They were part of a circus of sorts, that did different shows, including a dance of sorts on dragon-back, which they did. So Dick finds the dragons around the nest comforting, especially when he just arrives. He also, much like Bruce, starts sneaking out, despite Bruce's own attempts to stop him. Which is how the whole dragon-people (thanks to clothing and armor covered in dragon scales, alongside wing-capes and such) myth starts gaining traction.

Barbara- Now I feel like she's more of a Hiccup-figure, albeit well liked by the rest of her village, as her father is either chief or the captain of the guard. Her and Dick befriend each other during one of the 'civilian' outings, aka when Dick & Bruce weren't all cryptid. But it also, Dick does slip slightly and accidentally gives her the idea of dragon-training and taming. Her goal is to train a dragon and convince the rest of her village of it, and sometimes joins Bruce in dragon-trapper raiding thanks to Dick insisting,

Jason- This lil gremlin wasn't exactly trapping dragons, but he stole broken traps and other things and traded the scrap to anyone he could for food and other supplies. He also has a bit of a pickpocketing habit. Dick might have laughed when he got Bruce, which is how he kind of got caught. He was very wary at first, but already half feral and the weird dragon-people have food and oh my stars, Flying! He is still a child after all, and was very excited about that sort of prospect.

Tim- So can't exactly do the whole neighbor thing with him, seeing as the batfam lives in a dragon nest. That doesn't stop him from seeing them- and the dragon flocks- fly by from his window. His parents are merchants, and he's left alone a lot. Which directly plays into how he eventually runs into the batfam. Well, technically he runs into Jason first, though recognizes Dick from the Grayson show. Look, what was Jason supposed to do, there was a small child at the edge of a building that was on fire! And he recognizes Dick, so it's not like he can't take him, right?

Steph- Steph is easy. Tim ran into her while she was freeing dragons from her father's ship and honestly, he did not kidnap her. She, kidnapped herself. Honestly he doesn't know where the heck she even came from, she just climbed on one of the dragons without a care in the world, smoking mask and hood and all. She almost explodes herself more than once and has a lot of insider information about the dragon trappers, and happily tells her new friends. According to her she was practically an orphan anyway, but at least with this she doesn't have to worry about being a "proper girl" according to her village elders.

Cass- Similar to Steph, her father is a dragon trapper, albeit a far more notorious one. Also a bit of a mercenary for higher, who isn't afraid to steal and murder, and used her to his advantage in assassinations. Similar to canon she fled upon her first kill, albeit with any caged dragons who hadn't already been killed for skin and parts. She kind of just wandered for a while, before the dragons led her to the batfam's Nest. And she's gotten far more used to dragon body language than human, so it's a relief to be able to communicate and understand once more.

Duke- Duke was in a bit of an accident, thought he knows it's not that despite what everyone else in the village said. He knows his parents were poisoned, and he knows that the house bursting into flames wasn't from a dragon. Well, technically not from a wild dragon, he saw the chains and armor and everything else even if nobody listened to him. Which is what spurs him and his friends into attempting to find out why and who is attacking the villages little by little. Bruce and them aren't entirely sure what exactly happened, but Duke and his own dragon were the only survivor on that stolen boat, and they can recognize both acid and fire.

Damian- Damian, I am unsure about, because I'm not entirely sure where the League of Shadows would stand in a world like this. But he would still be Bruce's son. And I am thinking that the league would use magics, that's probably a part of the whole Pit. Which actually could fit with a lore thing with FR. But still, not entirely too sure, y'know? But he would end up with Bruce eventually, already with a dragon or would get one upon arrival.

And that's all I have for now lol. Thoughts?

[autisticlalna]

okay. full episode analysis coming later because i have so, so much to say about that one clip, but:

so. Dominion references. that's the big thing. we got two of them back-to-back in a very hard to ignore way if you're familiar with season 2.

but it's not just been Dominion. that's been what we're all excited about, obviously, but there's been some other stuff blending in.

after all, we have Viking surviving the apocalypse and talking about how he has experience working with tnt bombers-- something said ooc, maybe, but he has been working with them on both Hardcore and Twitch SMP, and died on TSMP because of getting caught in the explosions.

there's also the moment earlier in the trial where M1G starts ripping into Milkman for what he did on Pleasantcraft. again, line between ooc and in-character is blurry here, but either way Viking recognized what M1G was getting at. (Viking also cut out the part where it got called into question if that should count as testimony against Milkman seeing as it happened on another server and Elffe said "let's get multiversal". god, literally everything elffe did in the trial was great)

but, speaking of multiversal, i'm going to bring up something i've been calling "multiversal bleed" for lack of a better term. sometimes the lines dividing the Vikings are... wiggly. history likes to repeat and mirror itself (as shown in the trial), but some stuff slips in regardless of reality echoing itself. this is the obligatory part of the post where i pull up the TSMP transcripts.

because, for some reason, this specific line from tViking sticks in my head:

Viking: [cat beckoning noises] Frickin’ cat, like the cat I had one time. C’mon.

the reason this is filed under multiversal bleed is because Viking had a cat in Gilded Hardcore. (Also in Dominion, but Cranberry is better remembered.) tViking also could've had a cat during the gap of time between his arrival in TSMP's world and tRuby's, but either way the reaction was "wait, Gilded?"

there's also an equally brief example in the solo Skyblock series, where Wanderer recognizes Avid despite neither of them having crossed paths on-camera before... or those specific versions, anyway. again, Gilded Hardcore.

multiversal bleed is kinda a consequence of mcyt in general when you have multiple series running with different iterations of your character. there's bound to be crossovers and quick jokes and the like. but, considering that Viking's lore has been steadily building up to his status as a universal constant, it's more on the table as "something with canon repercussions".

going off of what moxijunk has suggested before, Summertime might be having heavy bleed from other versions of himself. he's still a separate entity from dViking, or Hardcore, or tViking, but when things get a little too familiar, memories that aren't his start to spill through. it seems to be what's happening to Cherryby, after all.

there is another route, though. on some level, we know the Vikings are aware of each other... maybe. again, most of my evidence is going to be from Twitch SMP, seeing as that went deeper into the overall storyline that's been building since the introduction of V.P. as a concept.

Navigator, local Viking that knows about the multiverse and is very involved in keeping it on-rails, told Sapphire at one point:

Navigator: You won’t tell me anything. And none of the others seem to know… or know even he exists.

and Sapphire later brought up:

Sapphire: Well. I am me as much as this one… is nothing. Hm. Y’know? Me, myself, and I… always work together. We’ve always have. Just as all Vikings. And… Navigator: So you work together… Sapphire: Even to an extent, VP, back before… Well. He didn’t, anymore.

...so there's some level of communication going on between the Vikings. Navigator keeping himself hidden from tViking probably has more to do with "tViking being an unknown and dangerous variable" rather than "Vikings aren't supposed to interfere with each other". maybe. basically anything with Navigator involved is vague, though.

and then, of course:

Viking: So for me, [laughs] I may not build these things myself, but I wake up and they’re done, and I know it’s me, because me wants to help me. Vikings help Viking. That’s how it works.

Vikings help Viking.

this hinges on Summertime being aware, either consciously or subconsciously, of his other selves.

in a TSMP stream i don't have a clip of at the moment he did swap places with tViking / Navigator, but there was no meeting of the Vikings and we don't know if he understood what was happening or if he even remembers it. most of the evidence here is from Navigator, who is an outlier and probably should not be counted, and tViking, who has been voted "most possessable Viking" since near the start of TSMP's storyline.

good lord this post got long. i'm going to go get coffee. draw your own conclusions because i forgot mine

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for tagging me @timetravelingpenguin1066 <3

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

111.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

413,187.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Actively: House of the Dragon, The Last Kingdom and Ewanverse characters. Previously: Vikings, MCU, Game of Thrones, and a few miscellaenous characters played by the Skarsgård brothers.

4. top five fics by kudos

Who Taught You How to Love Like That?, Unbearable, Ride, Mine, Perzys se Rūkla (wow, I am popular with the Daemon crowd on AO3, who'd've thunk it?!)

5. do you respond to comments?

For a really long time I didn't, simply because I am a creature of procrastination and AO3 isn't a platform I check often. I think it got to something ridiculous like 400 unread comments, so I wiped them all and started fresh and since then I make a point to go in once a week and reply.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Either Careless Words or My Body is a Cage

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably The Shielded Heart.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I did for As the Gods Intended - this person was really bent out of shape about the incest and abusive dynamic within the fic, but I went onto their page and all of their fics were Lucemond ones, which seemed hypocritical to me, so I blocked them!

9. do you write smut?

Yes.

10. craziest crossover?

I don't really do crossovers - I did a Tom Bennett/Billy Taylor cross over once. That's my only one. It's called Body Electric.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not an outright copy and paste, but I have fallen prey to mosaic plagiarism, and it feels equally violating. Especially when the person admits to it, but then refuses to rewrite the portions they've lifted from you.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, Unbearable was translated into Portuguese for Wattpad (with credit).

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, the unpublished Socussy fic - @bottlesandbarricades @targaryenrealnessdarling @em-writes-stuff-sometimes and I all created something nightmarish. It lingers in Google docs, like a beating heart beneath the floorboards.

14. all time favorite ship?

Floki and Helga from Vikings (I have previously written fics for this) and Tifa and Cloud from Final Fantasy VII (never written fics for this and never will)

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have yet to leave a WIP unfinished!

16. what are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, clear and concise prose.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes I can be too objective.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Love it. I never use a translator, as I prefer the challenge of figuring it out myself. Particularly High Valyrian.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Vikings.

20. favorite fic you've written?

I'm currently very proud of Cozened Indigo.

No pressure tags: @vampire-exgirlfriend @emilykaldwen @targaryenrealnessdarling @moris-auri

@flowerandblood @barbieaemond @superprincesspea @exitpursuedbyavulcan

[fuckyeahhiccannamonth]

HIIIII HICCANNA NATION, long time no post!!!

Sooooo long story short, a bitch overcommitted HARD last year, and had like 17 Hiccanna month posts that I completely ran out of steam to finish. And then because I felt so guilty I didn't finish THOSE, I also didn't reblog all the incredibly awesome posts the rest of y'all made, and I'm really sorry for not giving my people the love and appreciation they deserve!!! And then, of course, my life from like October through like March became an absolute shitstorm, and I got semi-threatened with eviction and then friend-dumped by one of the most important people in my life D: It was a whole Ordeal™️, and sadly, my brain was too fried to think about my favorite awkward blorbos 💔

BUT BY GOD, THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO GET MY LIFE TOGETHER AND PULL THROUGH FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO HAVE MADE THIS FUNKY LITTLE EVENT COME TO LIFE!!! I WILL finish reblogging all of last year's Hiccanna Month posts before the end of this month if it kills me!!! And by god, I WILL have this event again, because it's what y'all deserve!!! I don't have the spoons to post much of my own stuff this year (except maybe some leftovers from last year lol), but I'm going to be more on top of my shit about hyping anyone and everyone who decides to participate :3 I'm so grateful for each and every one of you, and I can't tell you how happy it's made me that you all have made this event for my little rarepair OTP bigger and better than I ever imagined 💚🧡💚🧡

I am, however, following suit for some of the other RotBTFD ship months and cutting down from one prompt a day to two per week for 8 prompts total, with an overarching theme for each week. I honestly don't have the spoons to do a prompt every day this year, although for future Hiccanna months, that could change. The two-a-week format seems to work better for a lot of people anyways, since I've gotten feedback that 31 prompts in a row is, er…pretty overwhelming, to say the least ^^; So two prompts a week for this year, and we will see if people like this format better!

@gryffindorkxdraws a tag for you, as promised 🩵

AND NOW, the prompt list!!! Apologies for only giving you guys a couple weeks of prep time—I know it's usually more ^^; But y'all know I'm flexible about late submissions, and it's totally fine if you submit for Hiccanna month after July! And who knows??? If I'm feeling spicy, I might tack on a bonus week for the first week of August 👀👀👀

WEEK 1—MUSIC Special thanks to @lovestrucklyuniverse for suggesting a focus on music from Hiccup and Anna's movies—I'm enamored with that!!! Of course, these prompts are just suggestions, and if you'd rather make something inspired by a pop song, alternative rock jam, or Eurovision ballad that reminds you of Hiccanna, then have at it!

1. For the Dancing and the Dreaming—A re-imagining of our favorite Viking wedding song with Hiccup and Anna! They're certainly the sort of people who would do all manner of impressive feats and grand gestures to win each other over, but the joke is on them—they don't need to! Sometimes, pledging love and devotion is enough, and there's no need to slay monsters or gift troves upon troves of treasure to prove yourself worthy of someone.

2. More Than Just the Spare—One of my absolute favorite things about these two is how they rise above being overlooked and underappreciated and accomplish some truly spectacular things. This prompt is all about Hiccup and Anna showing that they can be more than anyone ever expected them to be—preferably together, while being madly in love!

WEEK 2—MOVIES AND TV Let's be real—we've all dreamed of seeing Hiccup and Anna interact (and adorably butcher flirting several times) on the big screen. Whether it's through an epic Disney-Dreamworks crossover (god, we all wish, right?!) or imagining Best Awkward Blorbos in your favorite TV show, this week is all about Hiccanna slaying in visual media!

1. Romcoms—Have you ever watched a romcom and gone "You know what would make this better? If it was about Hiccanna!"? Furthermore, have you ever watched a romcom and gone "Well shit, this is literally just about Hiccanna!"? Well, now's your time! Make something inspired by your favorite Hiccanna-coded romcom, or a romcom you desperately believe needs more Hiccanna energy in it! Or, hell, make up a brand-new cheesy romcom plot for these two and make us all swoon 💞

2. Dramas—We forget it sometimes, but not everything in these two dorks' lives is sunshine and rainbows. Hiccup lost a whole-ass leg! Anna almost froze to death! They both grew up lonely, friendless, and (relatively) isolated from their communities! For this prompt, take your favorite drama and Hiccanna-ify it—or aplify the Hiccanna you already see! It can be any subgenre you want—coming-of-age drama, period drama, weird avant-garde indie drama, you name it! Subject those guys to some Dramatics™️ and let us see :3

WEEK 3—LITERATURE AND TEXT PROMPTS This week is all about something so many of us long to have an excuse to do--write about the blorbos! Whether you're looking to try your hand at fic for the first time or you're coming back to add more much-needed Hiccanna into our ever-sparse internet ecosystem, these text prompts will hopefully get your fanfiction juices flowing. Pick your favorite(s) of the four for each day, and write away! If you want to try and do all of them then have at it, but don't stress yourself out!!! I wanna make sure this year's event is as chill and no-pressure as possible, since I know a lot of options can be overwhelming, especially for Anna and I's fellow ADHDers! And if you don't want to commit to writing anything, or writing just isn't your strong suit, that's okay too! Use this week to make something based on any literature that brings Hiccanna to mind, or any literary world you'd love to see our favorite awkward ship in. Happy creating! Also HUGE shout-out to @lilandraws for helping me narrow this down from 40 fucking prompts, because when I tried to just casually make a list of text prompts I liked, I got, um...a bit carried away ^^; Also for giving some absolutely hilarious commentary that singlehandedly got me through the workday, bless 💚💚💚 And thank you to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompts themselves!

1. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) “Two bros, chilling in a small bed…” b) “Someone just handed you a cat?” c) “Sorry I tried to kill you.” “It’s fine, but next time you should try harder.” d) “Takes one to know one.”

2. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) He had prepared himself for all the different ways she could reject him. But what he hadn’t prepared for was for her to actually say yes. b) “Want to hear some random facts about geese?” c) “What are we?” “Human. At least I hope we still are.” d) “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.” “And what are you going to do about that?”

WEEK 4—COMIC BOOKS And now, for the ultimate kick-ass combination of visuals and literature—the visual novel and comic book!!! Since Hiccup and Anna are, fundamentally, animated cartoons (as much as they are much more to all of us!), it seemed fitting to wrap up with this one :3 This week is all about comics, and what epic shenanigans and hijinks can come of Hiccanna-ifying them!

1. Sci-Fi/Fantasy AU—One of the things comic books and visual novels do best is exploring fantastical scenarios and limitless possibilities. The iconic superhero AU is probably the most well-known, but your options don't end there! Do you have a favorite comic about guys on spaceships exploring the galaxy and battling aliens? Or a comic about a party of DnD-style adventurers taking down an evil wizard? Throw some Hiccanna in it and let us see! The sky's the limit, and really, you don't even have to stop there! (Note: Using AUs for ANY of these prompts is real and valid and encouraged, so don't feel like this is the only place where you can use wacky AUs! This is just the one where they have a special focus/emphasis. But AU away whenever you like—Hiccup and Anna kinda require an AU to even be able to interact, so it sort of comes with the territory!)

2. Favorite Comic Book Adaptation AU—Many of us have been lucky enough to see a comic we like be adapted into something else, and can say with confidence that the adaptation kicks absolute ass,, whether it be a movie, TV show, novelization, video game, or whatever else! Like with the previous prompt, superhero comics might be the first thing to come to mind. Of course, I'd be delighted to see Hiccanna in the world of the Spiderverse, Invincible, or your favorite DC or Marvel movie, but keep in mind these aren't your only choices! Something like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World or Netflix's The Sandman would be a totally valid option as well! Have fun and go crazy :3

Aaaaaaand that's all for now! Tag those posts with hiccannamonth2024 or hiccannamonth24 so I can see them and reblog, and happy Hiccanna month-ing! Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with and shower all my love on it 💗💖❤️‍🔥 See you next month!!! We will go through all of July…and beyond >:3

As far as content goes, literally anything is welcome--edits, art, drabbles/fanfic, videos, interpretive dance you record yourself doing that has Hiccanna motifs, it is all fair game as long as it’s Hiccanna-related!

Your ever-determined Hiccanna month hoster person, Fuckyeahhiccannamonth 💚

[nightingale2004]

Hotd/Got fans and Httd fans. I just had an idea au/crossover.

Ok, so we know the doom of Valyria and how the Targaryens were the only dragon lords to survive, correct?

Well, what if that wasn't the case? What if very few members of House Belaerys and Aurion escaped the doom of Valyria by ship but were separated from their dragons and the Targaryens?

What if instead of regrouping in Dragonstone, they set sail near to the north and landed themselves on viking Land, and for their own survival, they lived amongst them?

As many generations passed, their bloodlines lived on, but they had forgotten who they once were.

As for the dragons that were separated, they found themselves an isolated island where they lived and repopulated. Making their island, an isle of dragons.

But dragons still need food to survive, so they tormented the viking island nearby, stealing their animals and food for many years to the point where the vikings fought back and only killed very few dragons.

For GENERATIONS, the bloodlines of the dragonlords still ran strong, but the descendants had forgotten who they were. But then Valka was taken by a dragon to their island, and her son Hiccup Haddock, who is the son of chief Stoic the vast and future chief of their island Berk, tamed his dragon and taught his friends how to tame theirs. Unbeknownst to him, his group Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut are also descendants of the dragonlords of Old Valyria.

Hiccup and his friends defend their home and people with their mighty dragons and defend and protect the wild dragons who come under their care and treat them as one of their own, along with great respect and care.

Although the language of Valyria is unknown to them, their dragons understand them nonetheless.

Hiccup is also known to not just be a mighty dragon master, rider of the alpha dragon and strong future chief, but he is also known for his engineering, protector of Berk, his one leg (obviously), and the dragon games champion 4 years running.

(I also need someone to make fanart of the Httyd dragons in Grrm style, please, and thank you)

[racefortheironthrone]

Since we're on a Viking bent at the moment, how did they come to be badasses within popular culture?

This is an excellent question!

I think Western pop culture has a weakness for historical warrior cultures in general - there was a big fad for samurai starting in the 70s thanks to Kurosawa films becoming crossover hits, there was a big moment for Spartans after Zack Snyder's film in 2006, there was another one for Romans between the HBO show in 2005 and the Starz Spartacus shows in the early 2010s - for complicated cultural reasons that keep historians like Bret Devereaux busy.

Vikingers had been around as a thing in pop culture off and on for decades - there was The Vikings in 1958 with Kirk Douglas and or the 13th Warrior with Antonio Banderas in 1999 - but it tended to be hit-or-miss one-offs rather than a general pop cultural trend until relatively recently. Sustained interest in Vikingers really does kind of trace back to the huge success of the History Channel show which ran from 2013-2020 - which is funny, because originally it was a pretty naked attempt to find something that would tap into the Game of Thrones audience, for all that Hirst hates the comparison- which prompted others to tap into the same audience with Assassin's Creed: Valhalla and The Last Kingdom and God of War, and so on. It's rare that one show hits big enough to cause a trend, but I do think you have to hand it to them in this case.

So why did Vikingers hit so big?

Part of it is that they come pre-packaged with visual iconography (the dragon-ships, the distinctive helmets and shields and axes, the rather inaccurate hairstyles, etc.) and mythology (Norse mythology has the virtue of being decently well-known enough that people recognize who the gods are, but not well-known enough that people complain if you make shit up that wasn't in the Eddas), so a lot of the "branding" has already been done for the creators.

I think another big part of it is that Vikingers kind of act as a cultural Rorschach test that allows people to see what they want - you can go all the way along the spectrum from right-wing Neo-Nazis seeing them as Aryan supermen destroying Western decadence through the will to power to left-wingers thinking that the Vikingers were progressive because they were relatively gender-egalitarian and didn't like Christians very much.

And finally, I think that Vikingers have the benefit of being far enough back in history and niche enough a historical subject that it disarms a lot of people's critical faculties. Here's what I mean -thanks to decades of historical research and activism, more recent and prominent examples of slavery and/or colonialism no longer make for protagonist fodder in pop culture. There's a reason why Benioff and Weiss' "Confederates Win" tv show got canned before it started, and there's a reason why something like Zulu could not get made today (and that's a good thing). But just like the Spartans after 300, the Vikingers are seen as "ancient history" and because their oppression was visited on white people rather than POC, you can show them raiding Lindisfarne and colonizing a third of England (although you'll notice showrunners generally leave out the trans-continental slave trade) without anyone asking if this is problematic.

[dragontamerhiccup]

Hey there. Seems like it’s been long enough for me to finally introduce myself, huh?

Name’s Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, current chief of Berk. Except apparently none of that matters cause I’m stuck in a world full of magic animals, I guess.

That big dragon is Toothless, king of dragons, unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, and most importantly- my best bud. If you don’t recognize what kind of Pokémon he is, that’s probably cause he isn’t one. He’s a Night Fury and he fell here from my world with me.

I’m just trying to find a way home, maybe study the… “unique” dragons of this world while I’m here. (Yes I know about the palm tree dragon. Yes it drives me nuts.) Not looking to start any trouble.

Here’s my trainer card, they didn’t let me put Toothless on here unfortunately…

Other Pokémon:

-Snowstepper (M Hisuian Zorua)

(( hi everyone! so in case you’re wondering what this is, basically it’s a crossover pkmn irl blog with How To Train Your Dragon. the summary is that our poor dragon boy and his buddy got ultra wormhole’d to the Pokémon world and now are two losers from the Viking ages lost in this wacky modern world where people call palm trees dragons.

this Hiccup is specifically from between movies 2 and 3, closer-ish to 3 because he has his dragon armor n stuff. this is a mostly just for sillies blog with like a sprinkle of angst (bc boy misses home a bit) and doesn’t really have an overarching plot rn, I’m just playing with the idea of Hiccup n Toothless living in this world. I might participate in high stakes stuff if ppl invite me to it, idk yet

anyways that’s all I can think of to say rn pls enjoy the dragon boy and his autism swag 👍 ))

(( OH ALSO: I have rlly bad social anxiety so I might take a minute to reply to stuff, esp if I get overwhelmed, and might miss social cues ))

[carebooks]

ideas for the Lockwood & Co. crossover with Bridgerton

beware, this gets pretty dark for the Bridgertons

Lockwood and Co. are investigating an old mansion in Mayfair, ever since they’re recent adventures surrounding the bone glass they’ve been moving up in the world a bit. And now it was time to locate and contain a Type 2.

When they arrived, they were faced with a much worse terrifying feeling of dread than from their previous cases. Yet, it was also twisted and different, not quite the same as they usually expect. It took a while to find any ghost at all, let alone a Type 2, and most of what Lucy could hear were happy memories from the house of different people, a family most likely.

Finally, she started hearing a low buzzing, and so did the boys too eventually. They made their way to the mansion’s cellar and that’s where they discovered:

“Please tell me that is not what I think it is,” spoke Lucy since no one else would. The boys remained in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

“That looks like…” Lockwood trailed off.

“The bone glass.” George finished for him.

A warped copy of the bone glass they had dealt not six months ago sitting in the middle of the floor.

They froze finding that thing, but the strangest bit about it was despite looking like the bone glass, it was missing the most crucial part of the relic: its center.

The rest of it resembled the first one they encountered, only slightly bigger, almost the size of a Viking shield. But the center was missing, it was just gone, an empty circle where they could see the cement floor beneath it.

When Bickerstaff first made his infamous bone glass, not many knew that it was not the first attempt. Nearly fifty years before when he was a young man he made his first attempt.

His first try was on a rich family of the ton. In his older age he would come to regret going after such a well-known family, but they were accesible to him and the perfect number he needed. The mother had eight children, they were all more than enough for his glorious venture.

That night, the Bridgerton family were all together, they were celebrating Hyacinth’s twelfth birthday, it was the whole family minus their spouses. Daphne came with her son as Simon and her were going through a small tiff at the moment. And Anthony’s wife, Kate, was visiting her sister out of town. It was supposed to be a lovely affair, filled with laughter and dancing. And birthday hats, of course.

Unfortunately, that night came a man. He was a Lord, from what Violet could remember. A Lord that lived a bit far off from their city and was always invited to the ton’s balls, especially during the matchmaking seasons. He had danced shortly with both her oldest daughters if she remembered correctly.

No one knew what Bickerstaff was doing there. No one expected him to commit such heinous, morbid, inhumane crimes. He went after the servants first, killed them and made sure the home was isolated. Then he went after the men, easier to subdue the women with them out of the way, it may have involved threatening their mother. Then after that it seemed easy to just go oldest to youngest. They screamed and they cried and he didn’t care. But as he went through them all he noticed something by the time that all that was left was the mother. He had taken his seven souls, seven Sources, but she had eight children. Who was missing?

He tried forcing her to tell him, threatening to kill her if she didn’t speak the truth. But what good was that when she was already dead by the time he cut into her firstborn? She would never tell him where her last living child was, she’d rather join the ones that were taken from her. And just as he was going to torture it out of her, she got the upper-hand, he was too distracted, she was gaining some adrenaline. And so she took the knife he had been wielding and drove into his torso, leaving him on the floor and taking the macabre object he made with her children’s remains. She refused to leave what was left of them with their killer.

And so he chased after her until he caught her near the up the stairs. It didn’t take long for a fight to ensue and she realized what she would do. She didn’t know what this strange relic was or why he had to destroy her family to make it, but she didn’t care. She lost what was most precious to her and now so would he. She made a determined step to the balcony overlooking the foyer, it had been bent and open during the earlier fights with her boys fighting the intruder. Still gripping the bone glass, she stepped off the ledge and made sure to aim it at the ground. She died on impact as the glass shattered around her. Her revenge complete and his crimes wasted.

He tried repairing what was left back in the cellar, but to no avail. It was damaged beyond repair. He left it there and didn’t look back.

Hours later, the third daughter and sixth child had arrived. Francesca Bridgerton had arrived late, coming all the way from her private studies in London. With gift in hand for her little sister, she didn’t know she would arrive to her home only to find her mother and siblings all horribly murdered. Her screams were heard throughout the neighborhood, alerting all of the ton practically.

The papers called it the Butchered Bridgertons.

Simon drank and barely left his manor when news of his wife’s and son’s murders made their way to him.

Kate, now a grieving widow but with no son to inherit the Viscount title, started living with her step-mother again. She goes back to India a few years later.

Penelope lost her best friend and her long time crush in one swoop, she stopped writing as Lady Whistledown for a year.

Lady Danbury visits Simon often, at this point just trying to make sure he doesn’t drink himself to death, and when she passes in her sleep six years later, he does.

The Queen had ordered her men to find the criminals responsible for her own subjects being murdered in their home. Mainly because the ton started talking of how the King and Queen cannot protect their own people. Everyone has become even more distrusting ever since.

Francesca Bridgerton is the last remaining Bridgerton left alive.

She cannot inherit her brother’s title and it’s passed on to a distant male cousin she barely knew. She cannot stay in Mayfair any longer. Rather than become some stranger’s ward and be forced to live in the place where so much death happened, she took what money she could find, her mother and sister’s jewels, and her brother’s hunting knife. She headed North, as far as she could get from the ton and from that house.

She eventually settles in a small town, finding work as a serving girl, and a few years down the line she marries a kind man and they have four children, two boys, two girls. She names them after her siblings and her mother.

When Violet Bridgerton jumped off that ledge and smashed the bone glass, something happened. One might never know what caused it: her self sacrifice, the love and grief of her children, or perhaps just blunt force to the relic— but something she did changed the bone glass. It no longer had those tormented souls, its Sources were in pieces and they suffered less. But it was still powerful. With her death, her ghost created its Source: the bone glass. And all her ghost ever wanted was to go back to a time when her children were happy and alive.

And then it did.

For decades, Violet’s ghost just kept going through the bone portal. Watching her children laugh, cry, and fall in love. But it never lasted, it always ended the same way. She still kept going back to it. She carried it on like a loop. Because that’s what it was.

Two centuries later and Francesca’s descendant would be finding her way to the Bridgerton manor. Finding the remains of the family and discovering what kind of ghost still haunts the area, eventually leading to the activation of the bone portal.

Her source was uncovered and the pretty girl fell first. The boys cried out for her, the taller one diving trying to catch her before it was too late. But as his hand barely grasped hers, he was being pulled down too, and then the third one did his best grabbing the boy’s ankles, to no avail. Soon, all three went falling through the bone window.

When they woke up, to their surprise, they were still alive.

They just weren’t in the right time.

[joestarlight]

a bit of writing good news

hey tumblr folks, I keep this blog separate from my professional blog even though there is some crossover, because I want to be able to go fandom hog wild on here and have fun and write fanfic. so I didn't announce it here and I can't link it directly, but in December I got published for the first time in a lit zine!!! It was a short story featuring the characters and some of the lore from my longer novel. It's nothing famous and the pay was tiny, but seeing my name in print as well as my character's names just took my breath away. I'm in my thesis semester in my writing MFA program with a lightly edited draft of a historical fantasy novel set in Viking era Ireland. It has a lot of Irish folklore and Norse mythology woven in. There is SO much left to do but I'm proud of my work so far. As this is my fandom space I can say this here - this book is my love letter to Geraskier. While I still take the characters into what I hope is a different enough direction, the tropes stand true. The wounded warrior who did not have a choice in what he became, and the sassy storyteller searching for his own truth DESERVE a chance for love and happily ever after. I love the Witcher, but the truth is I love those tropes more, and no matter how much queer representation they give in the adaptations, that is never going to be the space where I see it happen. so I made my own.

maybe some day people will like it! till then just keep writing, just keep writing... Geraskier fandom, thank you for being here and creating! and thank you for listening to this post. I know it's self indulgent but writing original stuff is a lonely road, thank you for letting me celebrate my tiny win with you all <3

[heroofshield]

10 shows meme

tagged by @scknight05 and these are in no specific order also tagging anyone who wants to do this! <3

CBS SWAT

yes it's copaganda but at the same time it went the B99 route and addressed how fucked up the police are when it comes to interacting with minorities and what they can do to address it.

2. Legends of Tomorrow

still salty at how they brought on Donald Fazon only to cancel the show and not give us any closure. I love my band of queer idiots

3. Vikings: Valhalla

spin-off of Vikings and it's really well done. A bit convoluted/Game of Thrones-y at times but I enjoy it

4. Sex in the City

Never watched the original run since we didn't have HBO growing up, but it's comforting to see that the issues women face in their 30s never change

5. Bridgerton

Love my anachronistic Regency romance show, lol give me my disaster bi Benedict season goddamn it

6. The Middle

If you're not in the midwest of the US, just watch this show and it's 90% accurate lol

7. Gilmore Girls

would come home from school and watch this until dinner was ready, it's a comfort show for me also the more i work a front desk, the more Michel is A Mood

8. Charmed

Another show I would watch reruns of when home from school (that and Angel). Recently rewatched it and it's still good (even if TNT lost the rights to the music and replaced it with horrible stuff and you can tell when the budget got slashed)

9. Star Trek: Next Generation

My sister and I would watch reruns of Next Gen during the summer and it introduced sci-fi to us. To this day, I can see a summary of an episode and know which one it was.

10. Supergirl

we don't talk about the last season Very good show highly recommend. Loved the inter-show crossovers (even if they were a pain in the ass to film) and the friendship between Kara and Barry, which IMO wasn't shown enough. Also totally gay for Katie McGrath in this