imagine sub!top!hwang in-ho squirming down below dom!bottom!male reader wherein reader is riding in-ho on the bathroom stall.
read at your own risk.
inho was breathing heavily each time you raise up then suddenly slam yourself down to him. his ears with a deeper red shade as he looked into your eyes desperate.
his hands gripped down to your waist like his life was depending on it, whimpering just below you as you whisper him praises he never knew he wanted to hear.
"such a good boy, filling me up.." "do you like what your cock feels right now, hm?"
words came out of your mouth while he cant stop whining and whimpering as your insides felt hot around his throbbing cock inside you.
his hands guided you to thrust more to him but you siddenly stopped. you didnt want to be instructed to do such things.
"im almost there.." "that doesnt mean you have to lead me in."
he whimpered as he looked into your eyes, so desperate as he leaned towards you, his hands let go of his strong grip on your waist.
"im sorry.."
you thought he will let you continue doing your thing to him. instead, he gripped down again to your waist as he pulled you up, your insides felt empty as he pulled his cock away, he the quickly alligned his tip to your entrance as his large length thrusts into your insides agressively.
you arched your back, your eyes widened with tears as you almost felt your insides tearing apart just from that sidden movement as you felt hot liquid filled your hole.
"you fool.."
he earned a smack on his chest from you as he whimpered slightly from the pain,
"im sorry.."
he said while his cock was still cant stop cumming, filling your insides until it didnt stop after filling you up, dripping down to the toilet's cover when he pulled out his cock that was still throbbing.
he silently admired your hole that was aching red dripping out the semen he released inside of you, while you looked at him noticing how he stare at you made you punch his chest again.
not proofread
Yk That trend where people jump into a random persons car and hop’s on the owner in the driver seat’s lap to make their ex whether a friend or lover jealous? Well that trend but as payment as to not kick them out of their car reader requires said character to let them fuck them in response! Who would be in this situation and what way would they be fucked.
-Souya’s anon lover
I actually don't know that trend, but I like your spin on it heehee. I'll stick to tokyo rev, genshin, HSR, and BSD characters for this.
—
Who ends up bouncing on your dick right there in the car:
HANMA, Kazutora, Souya, Aether, TARTAGLIA, Dottore, Furina, Venti, Wriothesley, CAELUS, Jing Yuan, Jingliu, Nikolai, Mori, Ranpo
Who ends up getting bred in missionary/mating press in your house:
Baji, Draken, Kakucho, Rindou, MIKEY, Capitano, Baizhu, Zhongli, Scaramouche, XIAO, LYNEY, KAVEH, BLADE, Kafka, Welt Yang, Jiaoqiu, CHUUYA, Sigma, Verlaine, Fyodor
Who ends up giving you a blowjob/handjob in a public bathroom/an alley:
Chifuyu, Nahoya, Ran, Kisaki, Sanzu, Shion, GAMING, Alhaitham, Sethos, Arlecchino, Ororon, Firefly, BOOTHILL, Atsushi, Fukuzawa
I’ve got a request my dear! Can you please do bottom Nanami who just had rough day and finally gets the chance to relax and be a pillow princess.
Love you dear!
𓇼 🌊 🐚 -Nanami Kento x Dom! Male Reader
𓇼 🌊 🐚-Cw: Overstimulation, dacryphilia, praise, Some sir and daddy kink, like one spank and manhandling (readers a strong boy 💪🏽)
It really didn’t take anyone special to tell how hard Nanami Kento worked. From a busy salaryman who hated his job to a sorcerer who still couldn’t stand the business, just had less of a hatred towards it. That was life though, grinding through shit you hate. It was worth it he believed, eventually retiring to Malaysia with his sweetheart was worth any challenge.
It would be awhile until that point though. For now he was a slave to the workforce. Nanami was returning back from home after a long day as usual. He looked over to see the kitchen was clean and some delicious looking cuisine in a container. Must’ve been your cooking.
He kicked off his dress goes and took his suit coat off before trudging upstairs. A few annoying comments from Gojo always got him exhausted and annoyed. He entered the room to see you relaxing on the bed lazily scrolling through you’re phone. You glanced up to see your husband with an annoyed expression on his face.
You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyed and flustered look. You could tell he was aggravated, not at you of course. “Hey there handsome, work got you down?” You smiled teasingly. Nanami Kento was no submissive man by any standards. A wise and reserved man which could be seen by anyone. Though, sometimes a man needed a break.
He got on his knees crawling over to your side of the bed as your large hand cupped his cheek. “Please sir….” He pleaded. The alias rolling off his tongue sounding like sweet honey in your ears. “Please what handsome?” You inquired with a knowing eyebrow.
“Please, fuck me…” He spoke softly, cheeks flushed with a pretty pastel dusted across them. You couldn’t help the mean grin that graced your lips. “Was that so hard baby? So hard asking you’re husband to make you forget about every little thing?” He shook his head no.
~🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
“Shit! You’re squeezing me so much handsome..” You lick your lips panting as you gripped his hips from the back pulling him into you. Kento had his face buried in the pillow as he moaned and cried. Pretty hazel eyes red from crying so much.
“S’ too much- can’t take it! Can’t take it! Mercy~!” You smiled softly at his pleas giving a small slap to his plump ass. “Shhh, know you can take it… because you’re a good boy right? Good boys deserve good things right?♡” You didn’t really expect an answer but you were pleased when you heard a whine. “Yes- I deserve this…”
You nodded in agreement. “You do, so stop thinking and let me take care of you okay baby?” You cooed softly at him as you gripped his sweaty locks. You gently ran you’re fingers through them before tugging to get him to arch. His face was pulled off the pillow leaving his mouth open to let the groans and moans escape.
He had no idea how many times he’d cum already. All he knew is that he’d been manipulated into position after position by you. Pretty head blank from everything except you’re dick in his ass abusing his prostate with each Plap! Plap! Plap! You gave so graciously to him.
You felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm as he constricted tighter around you. You lifted you’re leg to plant beside his torso and adjusted you’re hands to his broad and muscular shoulders to pull him back into you. You leaned your weight over him making your dick hit even deeper from the forced arch. You smiled softly as you heard him cry out, hands reaching up to the drool covered, sweaty pillow to try and pull himself away from the burning pleasure.
“Nope, don’t run away from this dick baby…” You grinned as you pulled him right back to you’re pelvis. “Shhhh, shhhh, let daddy hear you scream for him m’kay???” You asked, but he knew it was a demand. The coil in his stomach stretched to its limits, face dripping with sweat, toes curling and eyes rolling back.
He peered up at you from wet lashes, a pleading look on his face. You smiled at his manners. “You know you don’t have to ask to cum…. Nut on daddy’s cock…” you gave a final sturdy thrust and his orgasm came crashing down like a wave on the coast. He gave a final drawn out groan mixed with a gasp as thick, ivory rivulets spilled from his shaft.
You came just in time with him as you filled him to the brim with your own release. You sighed in relief as you rubbed small shapes in his hips to ground him. After a few moments he felt you pull out and quickly flip him over before climbing back atop. You lined yourself up once more with his entrance as he let out a whimper from feeling you invade once more.
“You’re still coherent prince… can’t have that can we…? My sweet pillow prince needs to have his pretty head drained isn’t that right?” You asked with a slight mocking tone as he nodded. His legs raised as he wrapped them around your torso, burying his tear soaked face into your shoulder. You smiled brushing a small start tear from his cheek.
You kissed his temple before gently thrusting. “Just a little more for me baby… just let go of all those inhibitions hmmm?” You asked in sickly sweet tone. And who was he to deny or say no when you asked like that?
A/N: It is so nice to be back and writing for JJK! Thanks so much for the request Jason, I missed all you sm! Things have just been busy. Anyways, keep requesting! Im on a writing kick. :)
could I ask for more nanami content? just a drabble would be fine, I'm so hungry for subby nanami fics 😭
˙✧˖°🎂 ༘ ⋆。˚- this is literally perfectly timed for his birthday bro, you’re crazy my friend 🙏🏽
˙✧˖°🎂 ༘ ⋆。˚-Nanami Kento x Dom! Male! Reader
˙✧˖°🎂 ༘ ⋆。˚-Cw: Rimming, face-sitting, multiple orgasms, asphyxiation (?) and some spanking
Kento had always been the type of person to not like his birthday. As he grew older and there was less things he wanted he began to not care for it anymore. It was another day to him, a day to represent he was getting older. If you asked him what he wanted for his birthday he’d say nothing really, but you still managed to figure something out.
When you and Kento eventually got married you got a better gauge on what he wanted from being so close to him. He’d always looked towards simpler things like baked goods, quality time or just cuddling. Though you couldn’t help but spoil him occasionally with some fancy watches, shoes and wallets. Of course he appreciated after you convinced him that it wasn’t too much.
Gojo had decided to throw Nanami a surprise party and asked you some questions to see what everyone should get him. You explained to the man how much he hated surprises but, it was Gojo. Yuji helped decorate and made sure to invite everyone who Nanami liked. Everything was ready cake from the local bakery, decorations and presents all set up perfectly.
Everyone hid as you checked the time. Kento would be home at 5. No earlier or later. Within a few seconds the door unlocked as he looked around confused on there being no lights or noise. That’s when Gojo flipped the lights back on and everyone jumped out with a big, “Happy Birthday!”
As much as Kento wanted to be annoyed, he couldn’t. Seeing everyone’s bright smiles and happy looks warmed his heart as much as he wouldn’t admit it. You walked over giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek before smiling. “We spent all day getting ready, I don’t want to hear any complaints.”
He smiled softly rolling his eyes before nodding. Everyone went up to him to ask him about his days as they led him to your backyard to show him everything. You smiled at the sight of the energy of the house. Lively and fun.
The party was amazing, the teen and Gojo capitalized on the piñata and it was just fun to see Kento actually enjoying something like this. You two were mostly sat back on the couch the whole time enjoying the scene and some cake from the local bakery. He gave you a kiss on the lips before smiling. “Thank you, this is really nice.”
You smiled at his admission before nodding. “Gojo and Yuji really went all in.” You checked your watch, it was getting pretty late and everyone seemed to notice too. After gifts everyone left and you made sure to clean up around the house which didn’t take long.
~⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
After Kento finished in the shower he had a towel wrapped around his waist. You smirked to yourself before walking over and grabbing him, mouth immediately latching onto his neck. He laughed as he threw his head back to give you more access. “Eager are we?”
You wasted no time carrying him to the bed and putting his legs over your shoulders. Instead of the usual sex though you couldn’t help but indulge a little. You gave a firm slap to both of his cheeks as he let out a little gasp. “You gonna let me treat you birthday boy?” You questioned, your face moving lower and lower.
He knew exactly what you were suggesting and he wasted no time spreading his legs. You quickly gave a lick from his shaft all the way down to his sensitive entrance. He let out a groan as he felt your skilled tongue teasing the ring of muscle. You wasted no time burying your face into him as you peered up at him through heavy lidded eyes.
Kento loved the feeling of your tongue in him, it came a close second to your dick. When he tried to close his legs around your head you gave a warning slap to his ass to make him loosen his muscular thighs. “Shit- s-sorry, ah!” His back arched a bit as you used all the tricks you knew to make him cum quick.
Your hand trailed up to his cock as you began stroking the appendage. It eventually became too much for the 7:3 sorcerer as his back arched and he released. You pulled off as you quickly stroked him through his orgasm, twitching and pulsing through the sensitivity.
“Sit up, ‘m not done with you yet sweetheart.” You spoke as he came down from his high. He knew exactly what you were suggesting when you leaned back on the pillows. He rolled his eyes as he straddled you’re face, thick thighs on either side of your head as he hovered above you. It took everything in you to not start drooling like dog.
“Sit down Ken, wanna taste you some more.” You smirked as he blushed. No matter how many times you two did this he always had his concerns. Breaking your neck and suffocating you were the biggest ones. You didn’t care though, you quickly pulled him down by his hips.
Being Kento’s chair was privilege and an early birthday gift for you. It was like being in heaven. Seeing his toned back arched and head thrown back as he did his best not to grind down on you was like a drug. With your hands ground on his hips you ate him like a man starved. Reciting Shakespeare on it would be an understatement.
“Honey- oh god… your gonna choke…” He moaned out as you focused intently on the scene ahead of you. The feeling of your hands beginning to move him against you immediately told him, you couldn’t give two fucks whatever the hell happened while you were under him. So he leaned forward as he placed his manicured hands on your chest as he began grinding.
When he was this drunk off the feeling of your tongue he lost all cares in the world which is exactly how you wanted him. Animalistic and horny just like you were. You smiled dumbly to yourself under him as your tongue met his humps. “M’ gonna cum from your tongue…” He whispered shakily, sounding on the verge of tears from the overwhelming sensations.
He brought his own hand down to palm at his cock as he continued to grind against you. With a loud groan his body shook as his head tipped over. You peered over to him to see the ropes of white on his fist. He leaned forward with a tired grunt as you wiped your mouth off.
“You’re…. Not done with me yet are you….?” He raised a curious eyebrow to which you smiled to yourself. “You’re birthday isn’t over till 12am now is it handsome?” You asked tilting your head to which he just smiled to himself before nodding. “Guess not.”
˙✧˖°🎂 ༘ ⋆。˚- More cake for us ig, yall don’t understand the things I’d do to be under that man’s ass. My tongue WILL fall off after. Anyways, another diabolical write from me, thanks yall. Happy birthday Ken 🥳 btw chapter 263 of the jjk manga coming out tonight yall, lock in ☝🏼
hey daddy, could I get a subby nanami fic with some gentle sex? Maybe it's the reader and his anniversary night? with lots of praise, riding, and nanami as a pretty pillow prince plzzz <33
✮❁•°♛°•❁✮- lmao, of course
✮❁•°♛°•❁✮- Nanami Kento x Male Reader
✮❁•°♛°•❁✮-Cw: mention of daddy kink but it’s used once, creampie, overstimulation, praise, anal, fingering and blowjobs
Being Kento’s husband was an easy task. He was the definition of a perfect man. All the acts of service he did for you really sealed the deal. Whether it would be climbing Mount Everest for you all the way to cleaning the dishes for you, he would do it with all the same effort.
It was currently your two’s anniversary night and Kento made it clear there would be no overtime tonight. He decided to stop at the bakery to pick up the cake he ordered for you two as he then got into his car and drove home. Everyone wondered where that sweet man was going in such a hurry so happily, and he didn’t say much.
“Just going home to my husband, it’s our anniversary.” He’d say in his usual tenor tone but with a small smile on his lips. Though, they really didn’t know the 7:3 sorcerer how you did. They didn’t know every time he excused himself to the bathroom he was fingering the life out of himself while sending you photos of the aftermath.
Pictures of a messy disheveled suit, dazed hazel eyes and blonde locks slipping down to his face. The more lewder ones consisted of pictures of his leaking cock, pre cum slipping down the shaft all the way to his full balls. Then the ones of his slick fingers shining with spit, plump ass spread so you could see his toyed-with hole. No one knew that about Kento, and no one would know except you.
He finally pulled into the garage as he kicked off his shoes and set the cake on the counter. He then set up the rose petals so you’d see them whenever you came home. He quickly showered so he smelled fresh, more delectable for you. He sat on the satin sheets waiting with his cock standing in attention as he played with himself teasingly.
╔══════✮❁•°♛°•❁✮ ══════╗
You smiled to yourself as you entered the house to see the royally decorated cake. As you took your shoes off you couldn’t help but notice the smell of roses alongside the hot temperature of the house. You glanced over to the thermostat and saw the degrees were higher then usual making you feel all bothered. You walked over to the stairs pausing at the rose petals.
You smirked to yourself realizing what this was as you began walking up the stairs. Head getting cloudier after every step. When you made it to the bedroom you saw Kento on the bed with a silk robe loosely hanging on his body. He stood up as he immediately buried his face into your neck with a shaky inhale.
“Miss me prince?” You smiled teasingly as Kento led you to the bed before slipping between your legs. He immediately unbuckled your slacks as he pull out your hard cock. Mouth enveloping your shaft with sloppy precision.
“Shit- someone’s eager.” You spoke with a breathless chuckle as he slurped at your length. Head bobbing up and down. Kento was a patient man, but this blowjob was anything but it. He usually had so much technique when it went about pleasuring you.
Now, he was just going at it with no care in the world except making you cum. It was so pleasing to see how such a reserved and calm man could lose his patience when it came to you. You slipped your hands up to his blonde locks as you begin ramming yourself into his mouth. He gagged loudly, tears welling up on pretty long lashes.
“Shhhh, breathe through the nose. Doing so good… let me use you baby.” You praised, contrasting with the harsh treatment of his body. He gripped your thighs as his eyes crossed when he peered up at you. Your orgasm quickly washed over you at the sight of his fucked out face as you brought him down to the hilt.
He inhaled the scent of you as he swallowed every drop you so graciously gave him. You pulled out slowly as he let out a small choked out noise. Throat no longer bulging with your cock lodged down it. You smiled softly at him as his swollen spit covered lips quivered in anticipation.
He climbed atop the bed as you slipped your fingers down to his hole seeing already prepped. “Guess you weren’t joking with those videos you sent huh?” You questioned with a teasing tone as he nodded. “Needed you.. couldn’t even cum.”
He spoke in a frustrated tone as you cooed. “Couldn’t hit deep enough huh sweetie?” You spoke with a smirk as you slid two fingers inside with ease, feeling around his walls. He threw his head back as he almost came on the spot. You began scissoring him as you kept hitting his prostate.
“Sweetheart… need more of you…” He pleaded as he grabbed your arm. You tilted your head. “What would that be honey?” You asked with a sickly sweet tone. A tone of mock and smugness. Kento was a good boy, when you asked for answer, he’d give it.
“Need your d-dick… been thinking about it all day.” He spoke softly to which you kissed him passionately. You looked into his eyes before you hummed. “Okay then.” You lay down on the bed, back against the pillows as he looked over confusedly.
“Ride me. It’s only fair since you made me so hard at work today because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” You retorted as he was reminded of his desperate display. He mentally cursed himself now for sending those videos, he didn’t want to ride you! He wanted to be pampered with his face shoved into the pillows while you fucked him!
But, he knew better then to disobey you. He slid his leg over you as he straddled you. He leaned up on his knees as he put your cock against his hole. With slow calculated movements he slowly began to slide down on your shaft.
When he bottomed out you two both let out content moans. You gave a smack to his ass as you smirked. “Well? Ride.” You retorted as he put his hands up onto your chest with a desperate look. He began rocking his hips back and forth with needy movements, letting out wanting moans as you shuffled around his guts.
Slow and steady grinding movements is what Kento did. You looked up at him with a soft smile, the sight of your husband so desperate, so needy, was adorable. You tracked your eyes from his face, down to his body as you observed with a noise of interest. You then put your hands on his soft hips as you looked up at him.
“Go faster.” You demanded as he let out a whine. His thighs burned as he tried to pick up the speed. The feeling of your cock impaling his prostate with every slow drag of his hips. He was already so close while you were telling him to go faster.
“I- ah, hmmmphhhh…” He bit his lip as his eyes rolled back. You let out a grunt as you felt his walls vice your cock making you almost whine. You glanced down to see his flushed cock dripping onto your stomach, painting it in his fluid. You raised a soft eyebrow as a small smile graced your face at the pathetic display.
“Oh gosh- honey, I’m so sorry.. I-I, you were just hitting me so deep and I hah-“ he let out a noise of surprise as you slipped out, turning him over to lay on the fluffy pillows. You immediately saw the apologetic look slip out as his hazel eyes glazed over. He lost all train of thought as you smiled softly.
“Well, daddy’s gotta cum right? And although it was so hot to see how you rode him… he needs to feel you deeper and faster okay baby boy?” You asked softly as you slipped back into him with ease, toes curling as he wrapped his long legs around your torso.
You wasted no time pounding your beloved into the mattress, and he wasted no time as his eyes rolled back and he began crying and whining. Kento was always such a baby when it came to being pampered. You leaned in as you kissed his tears away before leaning down to kiss him fervently. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him by biting his tongue just a bit.
You pulled back as you let out a groan, a telltale sign you were close. And by the way Kento’s eyes were rolled back into his head and the feeling of his walls twitched, so was he. You slid a hand down as you squeezed his shaft as you began stroking. You felt him tighten as you pulsed.
“Cum for me love..” you spoke into his ear as he let out a sob of pleasure. He painted your stomach and chest once more with his cum as you painted his insides with your own. You lay on top of him for a moment as you caught your breath. Kento shakily breathed as you slipped out of him, you replaced yourself with your fingers in hope to prevent the sheets from getting soaked with your fluids.
Eventually you lay beside him as you both caught your breath. “Happy anniversary baby.” You smiled softly kissing his cheek. He glanced over to you with heavy lidded eyes as a soft smile graced his face. “Happy anniversary…” He repeated as he wrapped his arms around you.
A/n: Thank yall so much for the upcoming requests AND 1000 FOLLOWERS WOOOO!!!! That’s been my goal for a while and I love all you❤️. This was a really fun one to write since it was pretty versatile lol. Anyways, requests are one as usual, feel free to send as many as you all want! I’m doing my best to get them out pretty much every day. Peace! ✌🏽
I saw you’re requesting Jjk so maybe you and Nanami agree he can quit working since it’s tiring him out so much if he’s your cute househusband (the art you reblogged inspired this) and he treats you right when you come home because it’s what master deserves (is that too much? Feel free to ignore if it is)
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Sub!Afab!Nanami Kento x Dom!Male!Reader
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Not to much at all! Ngl breeding kink kind of jumped out of me at the domesticness of this so I made him afab 😭 (I need to impregnate him)
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Cw: Cunnlingus, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink (more of just filling him up but baby mention), slight baby talk at the end and soft sex lol
Kento was a man who couldn’t stand working. Whether it be long hours and overnights spent at the office as a salaryman, or fighting horrific curses and protecting people as a sorcerer. He grew up knowing and understanding the purpose of hard work. But god, he fucking HATED it.
Though, after he met you and married you, it made it more bearable. He had a reason to come home, to be happy, to work. He wasn’t just running on autopilot waiting for something or someone to take him out anymore. He had a new purpose, you.
After Shibuya Kento had gotten enough money to run away with you to his dream, Malaysia. The two of you bought that dream house you always wanted right by the water. Seeing it was amazing, experiencing it was like paradise. Paradise with you.
Since you two made enough money to leave thanks to Kento, you decided to take the brunt and work on his behalf. He’d done so much, ‘it’s my turn’, you thought to yourself. So with that revelation Kento decided that he would be the one to take care of the house. You always joked with him about being your househusband and now he finally was.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You soon returned home as you parked your car in the garage. You took a deep breath inhaling the ocean air before you walked up the steps. You grabbed your keys opening the door and kicking off your shoes. Your nose was directed to the sound of humming. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth of the house, and the smell of something yummy pulling you to the kitchen.
“Hey honey.” You smiled softly as you saw Kento with his apron on. He currently had flour dusted over his forearms, hands and cheeks. You hummed as he glanced up to you with a soft smile. “Hey handsome.” You walked over as you kissed him on the lips.
“Food smells delicious.” You smirk to yourself as he helped you take your suit coat off after washing his hands. He saw how tense you were as he trailed a hand down your back. He sighed as he gently put his hands on your broad shoulders. You spoke softly, “I’m okay for now, let’s eat.”
He then pulled his hands away before nodding. “Yeah, let’s eat.” He smiled softly at you as he kissed you on the cheek. He sat you down as he got you a plate of pasta and the homemade bread he made. He then poured you a glass of red wine as he gave a wink.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
As you were getting ready for bed you felt Kento’s hands run from your waist to your chest, his head going to the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent as he then brought his hands to the waist of your belt giving a gentle tug. You gripped his wrist gently as you pushed him back on the bed. He gave you a look of protest but you shot him your own which shut him up.
“You know this calms me.” You spoke softly as you pulled his pants off leaving him in his navy blue boxers. You smiled as you ran your finger along his clothed pussy feeling the heat emanating from it. “Please…” he spoke softly.
Who were you to deny your sweet man? You pulled his briefs off with a slick move as you observed his soaked center. You trailed your thumb between his lips as you softly rubbed his clit in tight circles. You watched as he clenched around nothing, slick dripping like a waterfall.
You saw how much he wanted to beg but he stayed quiet, this was your time to wind down. You continued inspecting his pussy as you gently pushed a finger to his hilt. He moaned softly as he moved his hand to your shoulder. You began slowly pumping a finger in and out as you looked up to see his reactions.
He had his head relaxed against the pillow as he moaned softly. Groans and whimpers slipping past his slick lips. Another finger was pushed into him as you began curling your fingers inside. You listened in awe to the squelch and wetness of his dripping pussy around your fingers.
You smiled softly as you leaned down, mouth enveloping his swollen clit as you circled your lips around the bud. His toes curled as he let out a loud groan. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked down at you. Heavy eyes peering up at him as you lost yourself in the taste of his musk.
Kento began groaning and grunting increasingly louder as you felt his walls begin to tighten. You pulled your fingers out as you roughly rubbed his clit with two precise fingers back and forth. His back arched as he let out a cry, liquid spurting out in small streams onto you and the sheets.
“There he is… shhhh, atta boy…” you smiled as you popped your fingers into your mouth sucking on them. He stared at you dazedly before he registered you sliding your belt off. “I’d eat you out longer but…. I’m aching for you honey… think you can take some more?” You asked softly.
He nodded quickly as you chuckled. “I’m going to pound you nice and deep… cum in you nice and deep.. I know that pussy wants it… doesn’t it?” You asked softly knowing he wasn’t really going to give you an answer. Though the flush on his face was enough to tell you.
You slid your pulsing flesh back and forth on his sloppy cunt before you gripped yourself and slowly pushed in. You slid into the hilt as you pulled his legs together and put them along your body. You wrapped your arms around them as you began thrusting.
He gripped the back of his pillow as his jaw dropped open with a soft moan. As much as you wanted to fuck him slow and soft… the stress from work and his warm vice around you was driving you up a wall. You began thrusting back and forth focusing on each expression his handsome face gave.
Slicked back blond strands falling in his face, hazel eyes squeezed shut, face scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex arithmetic problem. You smiled softly at him as you thrusted back, forth, back, forth. His pussy sloshing around you as he sucked your dick back in as soon as you pulled back.
“Sucking me in soooo tight…. You want me to cum in you? Fill that pussy and give you my baby?” You asked curiously with a coo as you trailed a reassuring hand down to his hip as you gave a squeeze. “Y-yeah- ah~ so good… m’ so full!” He exclaimed as his hazel eyes peered open.
You adjusted your position so that his legs were over both of your shoulders. You leaned over him as you put your elbows on his side as you kissed him passionately. You watched as he brought his hand down to his clit, mewling into your mouth as he began vigorously rubbing his clit.
You began feeling that telltale sign of orgasm impending as you cooed. “You want to cum with me? Want to cream on my dick honey?” You asked softly. Tone not at all fitting the filthy words coming out your mouth. He nodded rapidly as he threw his head back.
He wrapped his arms around your neck as you brought your own hand back down to his clit. You picked up your pace on everything as he clamped down on you. You let out a groan into his neck as you both were set over the edge by one another. You felt your orgasm deep in your stomach as you came inside him, heavy balls emptying inside while he squirted all over your stomach and the bed.
You hummed as you stayed in him. “Think it’s gonna take?” You asked him softly to which he smiled holding your hand with his ringed one. “Hopefully… I think a little one would be a nice addition to the family…” he looked down to where you guys met. “They’ll be perfect huh?”
He nodded with a grin. “Just like you..”
A/n: Hopefully you guys fw afab Nanami. Ngl, love writing with pussy involved lmao. Certified munch 😚🤳🏽. Anyways, see you guys in the next!
Summary: A series of occasions when the JJK sorcerers required your comforting embrace ...
(x Reader)
Featuring: Gojo, Kusakabe, Nanami and Ijichi.
Genre: Fluff, romance, humour.
CW: Suggestive language.
"On a scale of 10 to 11, how blue do my eyes look this morning?"
"Satoru, what do you want?"
One arm raised, elbow crooked in nonchalant allure against the doorframe, Satoru blinks in feigned innocence. He shifts such that the torso-hugging shirt he has on slides against each defined line of his pectorals.
"I just wanna know. It's nice to hear how handsome I am, from time to time."
"Seriously?"
He cradles his chin between thumb and forefinger.
"I mean, my jawline alone can cut diamonds - "
"Come here."
He grins, having conveyed his message clearly, if a tad ham-handedly. Elbow dropping from the doorframe, he steps into the bedroom, his tall frame stooping until his nose is level with yours.
If you intended to initiate anything at all, you can shelve that idea. Satoru's arms are already sliding around your waist, drawing you impossibly close. His face drops to your shoulder, blowing a playful puff of air against you before he presses into the crook of your neck.
He feels solid in your arms, present. A cloud of pale hair, silky and fragrant, drifts across your vision. The scent of him is warm, vital, alive. You trace gently across the contours of his back before your embrace finally encloses him, feeling his exhale blow heatedly against your skin.
These are the rare occasions when he seeks you out for reassurance under the guise of mischievous ribbing, when he grounds himself in the staid, reliable nature of your presence, when he needs you.
Slowly parting from him, you glance up at the slightly muted brilliance of his glance, the softness that hovers at the edges of that almost ethereal countenance.
"Ready for work?"
"I am now."
You pat him solidly in the middle of his chest, resting your palm there for a minute before pushing him towards the door. The residual humidity of his breath lingers on your throat.
"Now hurry up and go, before I get sliced with that lethal jawline."
"And then I said, why the heck can't we just take the safe route, not track through the fucking woods in pitch darkness, with a hurricane lamp that could attract every goddamn curse in the region - "
Atsuya cuts off, the scrape of the blade through the lather on his chin punctuating each point he deemed significant.
" - but of course, they didn't wanna hear it. "That's what sorcerers do, they take the dark path." Ha. They can take that poetic allegory shit and shove it."
You complete the task of drying yourself, fingers tracing lightly over the muscled wall of his back as you pass him, reaching for the hairdryer plugged into the wall just outside.
"Were there any injuries?"
"Miwa got a few scratches, but nothing serious."
He rinses off the blade, white foam circling around the drain of the sink before raising his arm again, skin appearing through the curtain of white on the sharp edges of his cheek.
"I told those kids before, you can't rely on anyone else. In a sticky situation, you gotta analyse the environment, know your opponent, observe their abilities, think and act at the same time - "
The noise of the hairdryer temporarily drowns out his voice, and he turns slightly as he sees your smile. You reach for him with your free arm, hair blowing across your face, and he grunts in amusement.
"I've still got shaving cream all over - "
"And when has that ever stopped you?"
No further convincing is needed because Atsuya's bare chest is now against your back, his arms coming up and around your middle, strong fingers linking securely over your abdomen. The coarse scattering of hair across his torso tickles between your shoulder blades. The heat of him is intoxicating, as always.
You squirm slightly in his grasp as the cool shaving cream smears across your shoulder, where he rests his chin, the dim light of the bathroom temporarily shading the green of his eyes to a subtle olive. Prickles of stubble, tender as the new growth of shoots in spring, sink into your still-damp skin.
You turn off the hairdryer, for now. You can't help yourself when your Atsuya is this close, the clean, warm scent of him wrapping around you, infinitely soft. You press your lips in a trail across his cheek, watching as his eyes close, as the rigidity of his powerful shoulders ease under your ministrations.
Drawing away, you see his eyes flick sideways at you, and you can feel the laugh that reverberates like low thunder through his chest. Your face is smeared with white.
"If you wanted to shave too, you should have just said so."
"What if I said I borrowed one of your shaving blades for my legs?"
"No wonder they're so silky smooth."
"Not as smooth as that tongue of yours."
"And you're the first person who's ever thought so."
Kento had been pristine, as always, when he'd left home. You'd seen his clothes prepared the previous day, the suit and shirt hung neatly against the closet, socks laid aside, shoes polished to high shine.
You'd watched him comb back his hair that morning, your fingers gently caressing his undercut as you'd made your way to the kitchen to deal with breakfast. You'd watched the small smile curve the corner of his mouth as he'd fastened his watch in place.
Orderly and somewhat fastidious, was your Kento, punctual to a fault, even in the way he kissed you at exactly 8 am at the door, the Jujutsu Tech vehicle waiting outside to swallow him into its cool, dim interior.
His lips had lingered softly on yours, as always, stealing moments from the impatient clock on the wall behind you. You'd straightened his tie, one palm smoothing the slightly hollowed cheek (which had filled out a little recently with your cooking) and then you'd stepped back and treasured the softening of his eyes before the glasses were placed firmly on the bridge of his nose.
So, it was with a sense of growing concern that you watched the same clock that had governed your separation that morning. He was three hours late, and counting. He'd managed to send a brief message earlier that day, that things were gearing up to be a little troublesome. Still, you worried.
You always had.
At 10 pm, the sound of the key slotting into the latch heralds his return. Kento pushes the door open, a heavy sigh reaching your ears as you approach.
He is no longer pristine.
His hair hangs down to his eyes, greasy and disshevelled, the tie nowhere to be seen. His shirt is stained and crusted with darker patches under the arms and across his chest and back. His pants are ripped and you see the bandages beneath where he must have received treatment already. His tired eyes meet yours, and you hold out your arms to him. A soft laugh sounds against the noise of the pot bubbling on the stove.
"I'm filthy. And covered in - "
"Do you see me complaining? No more questions, love."
He grumbles good naturedly, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it when you take charge at home.
In one stride, he is within the welcoming bracket of your arms, head drooping tiredly against the softness of your chest. He is tall enough that the position is slightly awkward, but he has anchored himself to you for support, and you brace your knees as you take his weight.
He smells of sweat, dirt and something damp and unpleasant that reminds you distinctly of a sewer. You smile and bury your nose into his hair, the unique, masculine scent of him, of Kento, now cutting through the other distractions.
You hold him like this, cradling his head close, whispering soft endearments meant only for his ears, until the stretch in his spine wears him out. He rouses from your embrace, eyes puffy and a trifle unfocused. Long lashes brush slowly together and he yawns.
"Had a good rest there?"
His voice rumbles delightfully through your frame where you are still pressed together, mellow and slightly slurred within the familiarity of these walls.
"A most peaceful one."
You tap the area where his head had been a few moments ago.
"Would you like to rent this space out, sir? It's available, every evening after five."
There it is, that quiet, mischievous smile, the one that spreads tender crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
"Only after I've inspected it thoroughly, ma'am."
You pause in the doorway. Kiyotaka is pacing the courtyard outside, phone balanced between shoulder and ear. He flips aggravatedly through the folder in his hands.
"Yes, yes, I understand - No - I will - Listen, please. Yes, company cars are expensive, I know better than anyone. However, forcing a trainee to shoulder the full burden of compensation just because he - "
He notices you, out of the corner of his eye. You wave to him and gesture to the files in your hand. He gives a harried nod before a frown marrs his brow.
"No, no, I don't think the fact that he saw a spirit and screamed like a little girl, as you put it, affects his level of accountability in any way. Our policy states that - "
In two quick paces, you reach him, snatching the phone out of his hand. Barking sharply at the person on the other end, you complete his statement.
"Our policy clearly indicates that trainees are exempt from damages incurred during any coursework. And that includes driving. Goodbye."
Ending the call, you huff out an annoyed breath before handing the phone gently back to him. He sighs and you see his glance hover sideways, alighting on the files you're holding. You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand.
"Oh, these can wait. Don't worry. How about we go in and have some coffee?"
"Actually ..."
"Yes?"
"I'dratherhaveahug."
"Pardon?"
"I'd ... rather have a hug."
"Oh!"
Your eyes widen slightly as you drop the files haphazardly on a nearby bench. Ijichi eyes them worriedly.
"Wait, what if the wind - "
"Then we'll say Fushiguro's dogs ate them."
"Eh?"
You laugh at his bewildered expression before tugging lightly on his tie, drawing him close. A flush steals over his cheeks, as you lean in and brush your nose against his, fingers slipping from the tie to the surprisingly strong line of his shoulders.
"Here's the hug you ordered."
"W - Well, yes, but let's be - "
He cuts off as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, one hand sliding stealthily under his coat to caress his back. You feel his Adam's apple bob as he returns the gesture, relaxing slightly into the embrace as his breathing evens out, stirring your hair slightly.
You both stay this way for some time, as the wind whistles in the corners between the statues all around you, mercifully leaving the files intact. You lean back and are about to release him when his hand clasps firmly on the small of your back, and he dips you, smiling as your delighted laugh echoes within the enclosed yard.
As he draws you back up into a brief kiss, you marvel at his sudden bravery. But then again, this is what you love most about Kiyotaka. As shy, anxious, stressed and fatigued as he is (mostly), there was a side to him that always warmed you pleasantly when your thoughts drifted to him.
He was the man who brought you regional treats from wherever his job happened to take him, who made sure that you were safe at all hours of the day, who would pursue you with an umbrella when you'd forgotten yours, who ensured that you'd eaten on time, even when he was swamped with work.
As you separate, you see that in spite of his daring, debeonair action, his ears have turned a startling shade of scarlet. You pinch one of them lightly and smirk.
"Looks like you've been eating spicy food again."
He clears his throat.
"The only spicy thing I've consumed is ... you."
Slapping a hand against your chest in feigned shock, you gasp theatrically.
"Why, Kiyotaka! How positively scandalous!"
A rare grin crosses his tired features.
"If you really want to see scandalous, you should have a look at Yaga's internet search history."
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Fic type-> NSFW + Drabble
Tags-> Sub Jayce, bottom jayce, degrading kink, kinda exhibitionism? both parties get off on getting caught, gn reader but they have smth to fuck him with whatever that might be lol, choking
Word count-> 705, about two pages of a book
AN-> I’m alive it’s a miracle! Anyways there’s not enough sub or bottom jayce fics just saying 🤷♀️. And as always, requests open!
AO3 | Masterlist
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It was Jayce’s idea. Not yours.
Honestly, blowing his back out in the lab wasn’t really what you had in mind when you said you wanted to try something new. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before- just this time it was in his lab, over his workbench, scarily close to the door. It didn’t help that Jayce didn’t know how to shut up during sex.
“Yes, yes- fuck!”
You apply more pressure against his wrists held behind his back, pressing him further into metal workbench- a silent warning.
“Jayce.” A hushed tone compared to his strained cries.
“‘m sorry, jus’ too good…”
You tug his trousers further down his ass since his loose belt buckle was clinking against the bench with every thrust.
You glance towards the door.
“Gah- god-“
You watch as his face distorts into one of pleasure as you’d just adjusted the angle of your movements.
“If you don’t know how to shut up-“
“Make me.”
His comment surprised you, he didn’t sound bratty when he said it. And no, he’s too good to disobey you. He sounded desperate for it. Like he needed you to keep him under control, even if he was perfectly capable of keeping quiet himself.
So you lean in, and let your breath caress his tanned shoulder blades.
“Oh, is that what this is all about then huh? Riling me up, teasing me?”
He hesitates before he answers,
“…no, please that’s… it’s not-“
You hook your hand over his mouth, only muffling his moans to your disappointment. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot down to his dick, smearing more pre against the underside of the workbench.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it? Getting me to slut you out in the lab in hopes of, what- getting caught?”
He could only moan into your hand as you pull him up so his head rests on your shoulder, his hair splaying out across it.
“You’re such a whore, who are you imagining walking through that door right now huh?”
You turn your head towards his ear letting your breath hit it, eyes flitting up briefly. You only grin.
“Is it Mel? Or perhaps Viktor?”
You let go of his mouth and instead opting for his neck to hold onto for leverage.
“Both-“
“Both? And what would they do if they saw you like this? Man Of Progress against his own workbench, taking dick like a bitch huh?”
Jayce can’t help but groan at the idea, someone so close to him walking in on such a scene.
“Come on, what would they do…”
You grip his hip harshly to re-adjust your position slightly, his mouth drops open and his now free hands flailing to try to bring you ever closer to him. You know you hit the spot with each thrust too when he stammers before he replies.
“I-I don’t know-“
“I think they’d like it, someone finally having the guts to fuck all that arrogance out of you.”
As you talk you sneak in kisses along his jawline and neck, even leaving one dark mark along the side of his neck.
He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, imagining Mel’s and Viktor’s sneering faces. Perhaps they’d be muttering between each other as they stare at him like he’s a common whore.
“Just- fuck- I’m gonna cum.”
“You gonna cum ‘round my cock and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Please, please let me cum- I’ll be-“
“Good? You gonna be good if I let you cum?”
“Mmhmmm…”
“Well… go on, be a good boy and cum for me.”
Like the flick of a switch he arches his back into you and cums across the underside of his workbench, your final few thrusts making it smear all along his dick afterwards.
You feel him go fairly pliant against you as his heavy breathing gets gradually slower, his eyelids slip closed.
You simply smile as you hold his jaw and tilt it away from you. He lets it loll to the side like you want as he pries his eyes open.
Of course mel and viktor are standing in the doorway, and of course they both look rather flustered.
— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -
Now that reader and maria has an interaction imagine if Reader dies instead of maria? Like they saved her and dies in the process? Idk if they still will do the whole destroy the world thing or not but it would be cool tho (like dr. Gerald start to see reader as his own grandchild)
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)
warnings: Sonic 3 spoilers, character death
summary: while trying to escape the GUN Base you and Maria are almost caught by the guards, realizing you won’t make it
a/n: I think if Maria survived she wouldn’t want to destroy the world, nor would Gerald (to an extent cause Maria wouldn’t want him to do that) but he would definitely want some type of revenge, same with Shadow but we won’t go that far into it, it’ll be just the basics of what happened that day you died instead, tysm for the request I’m not really good at writing angst but I tried🥲
Quiet. The day started off quiet. Although you sensed something was off, maybe it was the feeling of urgency you felt or the feeling that you should cherish these next hours to come.
Whatever it was you brushed it off, but thinking back on it now, you should’ve paid attention to the signs.
You, Maria and Shadow all sat on the floor, your faces fixed on the small television that Maria had in her room, it played a random movie that you weren’t too interested in. Suddenly you heard an alarm blaring, it seemed like the other heard it to as they both looked towards each other then to you.
“What’s going on?” Maria shouted, expression extremely worried. You shook your head, your hands covering your ears trying to block out the loud noise.
As you three sat there confused, the door to Maria’s room opened “Kids! We have to go!” Dr Gerald yelled at you three, ushering you each out and pointing down the corridor. Shadow held onto your left hand as Maria held onto your right and her grandfathers left.
The four of you ran as fast as you could, Maria still trying to find out what was wrong but her pleads for answers falling onto deaf ears.
As you ran, you took a quick glance, noticing the amount of guards running after you, their guns raised, ready to shoot down children.
Your grip on Shadows hand tightened, you didn’t want to die, you wanted to live with your friends; you were so scared, the fact that not only you would have to suffer this fate but also your friends.
After a bit of running you’d almost made it out, you saw the exit was near, but then you’d heard it, “Don’t shoot, they’re kids!” You turned back and saw it, the gun aiming at you guys, but then it was pushed. It was pushed towards one of the radioactive containers that you knew was unstable.
Things were racing through your mind, the hope that maybe you would all survive, the dread that dawned as you realized you wouldn’t, but maybe, at least you could ensure your friends would survive.
Before the others noticed what was happening, you pushed Shadow behind you, and then you turned your body and hugged Maria, using yourself as a shield.
And then, you smiled. It was short and small, but you smiled. You made sure both Maria and Shadow were covered by you, the majority of the blast only attacking you.
They say when you die your brain replays your best memories for the next 7 minutes. You’d always wondered if that was true, you guess now you’d really find out. You hope it’s true though, because you just wanted to see your friends one last time.
Your body was getting colder, the three no longer running for the exit, instead they stood there shocked, seeing what you’d become.
Maria was the first to try and wake you, her shoulders shaking, she was crying. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Gerald was next to get down, he was checking for any signs of life, there was nothing.
Then there was Shadow, he stood there unsure what to do, before he fell to his knees. His eyes were wide as he just stared, seeing how even in death you could smile, it was so bitter for him.
The guards didn’t give them time to mourn though, as they dragged the three of them away, putting cuffs on Maria and Gerald. Shadow was treated harsher, he screamed your name a few times as they used a taser to forcefully push him into his container.
He tried to get a look at you, he tried to find Maria and Gerald but he just couldn’t, they took you from them, and now they were going to let you lay there all alone. Any of the warmth your body had was gone.
It was no longer a quiet day, it became a day full of sorrow and despair. A day that changed the lives of people, but one thing was set in stone. That you would be avenged one day, no matter how long it would take.
summary: four years after the flood, you move out of gotham to start anew in metropolis — the cute reporter that steals your heart is just collateral damage.
pairings: clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)
all dividers by @cafekitsune!
i. one (2.2k) — One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.
ii. like him (tbd) — Mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know who he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know where he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, do I look like him? Or: you've never realised how much you look like your parents until the press points that out. How can you miss something that you've never had?
more chapters to be added!
im sorry i but i have to get in on this sonic movie s shadow train i love this movie so much as well! And ive been dieing for some movie shadow x readers to pop up. Is it alright if i request something? Can we have a shadow the hedgehog x reader where you also are living in the g.u.n base maria and shadow were? Your father or mother being on of the scientists and one day maria and shadow find you alone in a corner of the base writing music or playing with toys something (your marias age). Thrn they introuce themselfs and maybe you become part of their gaggle of fraggles to always being with them to the point your mother and gerald agree for you and maria both to share a room. With you shadow and maria being so close in time till your all like siblings? Idk this just sounded so cute. Thank you of your able to write this!
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)
warnings: none!!!
summary: after being brought to work with your mother, Maria and Shadow stumble upon you, deciding to invite you to join their little group, from then on the three of you became inseparable
a/n: this is such a cute request! I was gonna end it with both Maria and the reader dying but I think Shadow has been traumatized enough for now…
“You stay put! I have work to do in the lab okay?” Your mother’s voice was stern; being a single mother was tough, especially because she had no one to take care of you while she did her work. You gave her a small nod, acknowledging her request.
A slight sigh escaped her lips as she lightly caressed your cheek, “Just, behave for me please,” was the last thing she told you before she walked into the door to your right, the words ‘Laboratory’ in bright white above the area.
You slowly sat down on the floor, she’d asked you to not leave and you really wanted to respect her decision, even as a child you knew her life was harder than she’d let on.
Unfortunately you were a child with a small attention span. You dug into your pockets and found a small notebook with equations, probably from your mom and a small pencil. Since there was nothing better to do maybe it was best to just draw a little bit, maybe some flowers and animals you liked.
Sitting there, you slightly hunched over, trying your hardest to draw the most beautiful roses and some bees and landscape you could. Suddenly a voice rang out from above you, “What are you doing here?” Your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of a small blonde girl and a strange black and red hedgehog.
“Uhm my mom works here..” you nervously answered her, “What are you doing here?” You asked her exact question but back at her.
“My grandfather works here!” She proudly exclaimed. The hedgehog looked between the both of you, he stood covered behind her, he had a mean face but you could tell he was more curious than anything.
The girl taking note of the awkward silence decided to introduce herself, “I’m Maria! And this is Shadow! What’s your name?”
You looked between the two, taking in who they were before you quietly responded with your name, Maria let out a big grin and Shadow silently repeated it to himself, “What are you drawing?” Maria asked, looking at the small notebook in your hand. You looked down at it and turned it over so the two could see; it looked like a small rabbit with butterflies and flowers around it, “Woah that looks really cool!”
Shadow silently nodded, agreeing with her. You thanked the two of them, fidgeting with your pencil. As Maria continued to talk you took notice of her outfit, she wore a pastel rainbow long sleeve shirt and loose pants with skates on her feet instead of shoes. She must’ve noticed you staring at them as she suddenly asked, “Do you wanna try them!?”
You hesitantly shook your head, as much as you wanted to you didn’t really know her and if she would even be okay with that. Maria reassured you that it was fine and actually really fun, before you could tell her a definite no she’d already taken them off, placing them in front of you, “Try them! Shadow can pull you around,”
Shadow looked between the both of you, clearly not having agreed but Maria nodded her head yes, leaving Shadow to only agree. Surely your mom wouldn’t notice if you were gone for a quick second.
Once you were geared up and Maria found a rope to tie onto Shadow and for you to hold, she grabbed her timer, “Ready, set, go!!” Before you had time to really brace yourself Shadow had already set off, he ran through the base, his face held a small smile as he checked back a few times to check if you were still holding on.
He saw the wide smile you had, your laughter was echoing throughout the hall filled with the other agents. Quickly you already finished the lap and had made your way back to Maria, but unfortunately you didn’t exactly know how to stop, so as Shadow had slowed down you still held a generally fast speed. Too fast actually, causing you to trip and fall face first; thankfully the fast hedgehog was able to grab you and hold you up before you fell and ate concrete.
Maria ran over to check and make sure you were okay, feeling guilt if she somehow made you upset from almost falling. As you stood up, you turned back to look at the two, your extremely wide smile shocking them both, it was almost contagious as Maria started to smile and laugh and Shadow breathed a sigh of relief but you could see the small twitch in his lips making them quirk up.
Suddenly you heard your name coming from beside you, turning you saw your mom as well as her boss Professor Gerald Robotnik looking at the three of you, “I thought I told you to stay put!” Her expression wasn’t one of anger, more a mix of stress and lack of sleep.
“Mom! I’m sorry I just met Maria and Shadow and they’re really fun and I thought it was okay, we didn’t cause any trouble-“ You started to ramble feeling immense guilt for betraying your own mother, but you were suddenly cut off.
“Now now, I think it’s quite alright, you see Maria is my granddaughter, and I trust her and your child doesn’t seem bad” The professor interrupted and explained to your mother, “I actually think it’s good for the kids to hangout and get along” he advocated for you.
All three of you nodded your head, even Shadow was agreeing! Your mom reluctantly nodded her head, agreeing that he was right.
And so you came daily, until your mom had to start working 24/7 and so Gerald let you stay in Maria’s room, even getting you guys a bunk bed. It was nice, the three of you became like the three musketeers, you’d never see each other alone anymore.
Sometimes Maria would play music and you three would all dance and jump around together. At some point you even got your own pair of skates so that you three could race, although Shadow always won.
Life was fun, everyday was like an endless sleepover, sometimes the three of you would sneak out and watch the stars, even falling asleep under the moonlight. It wasn’t bad, not at all.
These were the best days of your life, just you and your two best friends.
Don't get angry with him, he was patient enough. :(
content; Jayce Talis x reader. nsfw. blowjob under a desk. male! reader. needy! jayce. light overstimulation. mention of body fluids. established relationship. Jayce loving everything about you. you are not in a public place as such, but it is not the right place to do that kind of stuff. word count: 5.2k
a/n; he's so stupid, I love him, ugh. english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
You swallowed saliva with difficulty, unable to avoid letting out a trembling gasp as you tried to maintain your sanity and continue working with what you had in front of you. But you reached a point where what you were supposed to do had been lost along with the rest of the coherent thoughts that resided in your now blurred mind. The tool you held in your hand slipped, making a loud — sharp noise upon contact with the surface of the desk.
You bit the back of your hand in a failed attempt to muffle your moans. For God's sake, you could hear the lustful sounds that Jayce's mouth made while eating you under the desk.
The plans and annotations in front of you began to become less readable; you were fighting against the impulse to succumb. You couldn't let him get away with it and give him, on a golden platter, what he wanted.
His big hands wrapped almost completely around your thighs while his face was buried between them, taking you completely at a desperate rhythm. He knew that this was the least suitable time and place to do something like that, but he was starved; he needed you, and he was sure you would understand, right?
You felt a chill invading your whole body, along with a wave of pleasure that wrapped your stomach. Your legs felt weak, and you had the desire to grind your hips against his pretty face. You whined, clinging with one of your hands to the edge of the desk.
It wasn't his fault, of course not. No one ask you to look so good while you were working.
“No distractions, got it.”
Well, it could probably be just a little his fault.
But he truly made every effort to listen to you, to be attentive to every word you said, but he couldn't help it. Not with you looking so handsome in front of him. All he could focus on was the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way you bit your lip in thought, the way you had your sleeves rolled up and your hair was slightly tousled. The smudge of grease on your face, he find it strangely endearing. You were so invested in your work, so dedicated and passionate. It was... kind of hot.
God, he really loves you so much.
He lost count of all the times he moved around the room, trying to distract himself with anything other than you. Swallowing nervously, waited for you to realize what he wanted — that he wanted you — but that was impossible. You weren't paying attention to him, and he didn't dare tell you anything because he was embarrassed enough to open his mouth — but not enough to get between your legs. You made him feel like a damn teenager in love, and he had to admit that deep down, he liked it.
A moan choked at the back of your throat, eyes rolling back as your fingers tangled in your hair, combing it back. You sighed tremulously, feeling your hips contract with the effort you were making for not to cum. You almost did when Jayce pushed your length all the way down his throat, with a hand gripping you firmly by the waist. He knew what he was doing.
“S-Shit!” you whimper loudly, unintentionally throwing the objects near you to the floor with your arms. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling right now.
He really tried to push those thoughts away, but they just kept creeping back into his mind. He tried to focus on his own work, but his mind kept wandering back to you. You caught his gaze a few times, giving him a quizzical look, but he quickly glanced away; pretending to be focused on the tool he was holding. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he knew he was probably blushing like an idiot.
He found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. Every so often, he'd catch a flash of that beautiful smile, and it would make his heart flutter all over again. He watched the way your fingers moved with such practiced precision — oh your beautiful hands, he couldn't wait to feel them on every corner of his body; just like your magnificent and pretty fingers, which were not only agile to create things.
You two had been working for hours and he had kept his patience as much as he could, but he couldn't keep waiting. You wouldn't blame him, would you?
“Jayce…”
“Mhm?”
The vibration of his throat caused you an involuntary moan. You cursed in low, tilting your head lower, peeking between the edge of the desk and your body to look at him kneeling in front of you. Your cock was still between his lips, with a mixture of his saliva and your fluids dripping from the corners. He looked at you attentively, with dilated pupils, observing your face. His hair was a mess, but it still looked cute as always.
“Stop, this… this is not the-!” He stopped you, sucking your tip and stealing a hoarse moan in the process. You bit your lip, watching his pretty mouth move up and down for your entire length. It was much better to see it than just to feel it.
You rested your back against the chair, bringing your hand to his hair; where your fingers tangled between his brown locks. Your legs opened more for him, being the only sign he needed to realize that he had obtained what he wanted.
He didn't take his eyes off you for the rest of the night; he wanted to make sure he remembered this moment well, capturing every expression on your face and the sound of your voice.
And don’t worry, you will make sure to collect your debt later.
© dansroo.2024. If by pure chance you recognize me, hi again! ;) I'm so sorry for deleted my account without giving explanations, I had some personal problems, really sorry.
thinking about giving some relief to your stressed husband before he has to attend an important meeting with his colleagues later in the afternoon…
you’re awakened by the shower of gentle kisses from your neck and face provided by none other than your own darling husband. your gaze softens when you notice that desperately hungry look in his eyes. then, when your eyes travel downward, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your husband’s naked body. the sunrise shone through your bedroom window, basking your husband in a golden light. he looked near damn ethereal.
you greedily took in his meaty thighs, toned arms, rock hard abs, and his useless, thick, leaking cock. sometimes you wondered how in the hell you were able to marry a hunk like him. you could distinctly remember that your husband had many admirers in his life who would give anything to be able to have a chance with him.
you felt pride bubble in your chest knowing that none of them would ever be able to see your husband like this: looking down at you with pleading eyes, not even having to say a word to let you know what he wanted. for you to fuck him like a cheap whore until your bedroom stank of sex. how could you deny your baby when he’s been good for you all week long?
“you look so pretty on top of me baby, mhm, move your hips just like that,” you praised as the grip of your husband’s quivering legs tensed around you as he raises his hips until just your tip is inside him before plopping down, his skin slapping sinfully against your cum stained pelvis; evidence of your previous rounds that your husband was so desperate to keep inside him as it continued to leak out with every frantic movement of his hips.
“yer cock feels so good, i needed this so much— ah!” he gasped when you grab hold of his waist and snapped your hips up to match the pace of his feverish riding. you could hear the tear of fabric beside your head as your husbands claws at your pillows, his breathless moans increasing as you continue to plow into his hole.
“oh fuck yes! please go faster, i’m so close,” your husband begs so beautifully as he rest his forehead beside your neck, he pants against your ear as his climax creeps closer. the final straw for him was when you wrap your fingers around his girth and stroke him along with your erratic thrusts. he muffled his whine by biting into your shoulder as he added more to the white mess of your abdomen. overstimulation cuts him like a knife as you continued to use him until you quickly follow suit and you slam balls deep into his ass and fill him with warm cum.
you husband lays flat against you like a puppet without strings as you both try to catch your breath. he lifts himself from your shoulder to stare down at you with so much tenderness. only you had the privilege to see your husband in such a mess. a mess that you had created to perfection.
you felt yourself grin as your husband starts to slowly ride you again, making your cock harden just minutes after your previous session. your handsome man was just as greedy as you. if not more.
ghost, gaz, soap, price, miguel, choso, sukuna, vander, jayce, gojo, geto, ur fav characters <3
Synopsis. You bring Viktor home from a long day in the lab. He wakes up and finds himself needing you.
A/n. No specified gender/genitalia of reader.
Viktor ignored the small voice in his head that tried to tell him to go home. “Just a few more minutes,” he murmured aloud. His fingers tinkered with the project in front of him.
“What’d you say?”
Viktor whipped around to see your lanky build leaning against a desk. He relaxed as you tilted your head with your familiar smile. “I- I missed you, my darling,” he whispered, rising to his feet. He hobbled into your arms and felt his weight sag against you. “I didn’t realize how tired I am.”
You shushed him and carded your finger through his hair. “I’ve been telling you, V. You need to care for yourself,” you coo into his ear. He relaxes completely, leaving you steady on your feet with his freakishly tall body in your arms. “But I admit, I love taking care of you.”
Viktor exhaled shakily. “Y/n?”
You hum.
He nuzzles his face into your neck and breathes in your scent. “Will you take me home?”
“Of course, my love.”
It’s the middle of the night when Viktor wakes, arms latched onto your strong form. Visions of the dream previously flickering behind his eyelids make him pant heavily as he looks down to see his pelvis grinding down between your legs.
“Fuck,” he croaks, wrapping his arms around your neck as he degrades himself for taking advantage of you while you slept. “I’m sorry, my lover.”
Viktor’s hips move slightly fast as your hands unconsciously grip Viltor’s waist. “Y/n, please.”
You blink awake. Viktor’s pathetic humping had been the actions to wake you instead of his quiet pleads. “You’re so needy,” you inform him wryly. Your head fell back to the pillow under you. “I can’t even sleep without-“
“Y/n, I need you,” Viktor pleads, leaving kisses from your exposed neck all the way up to your eyelids. “Please give me what I need.”
Viktor’s hips stutter. His breath catches in his throat as your hands trace down his back to squeeze his ass. “You have me right here, Vik. Take what you need,” you coo in his ear.
At your breathy words, Viktor whines as he pistons his hips down. “Ple-Please y/n,” he whimpers. “Talk to me, tell me- tell me I’m yours.”
You look at the famous, world-renowned scientist in front of you and wonder how you were blessed with the ability to turn him into the pitiful, whining, horny man in front of you. “You need my voice, is that it? I love how much you need me Viktor… I love you, Viktor.” He smothers a particularly loud groan by shoving his face into your shoulder. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? You don’t need to tell me, V. I know what my good boy likes.”
Just to tease him, you buck your hips up to grind onto his core. “Y/n!” He cries out, chasing your heat. “Fuck,” he whines.
“So reactive,” you murmur absently. “You’re doing so well, Viktor, so good for me.”
“Please, y/n, I need you. I ca-I can’t cum without you.” Tears leak from his eyes as his movements turn jerky and desperate. “Help me, please.”
You click your tongue. “Oh, Vik. This is how I feel when you’re off in your lab every day and every night. I’m showing you mercy by just being here, my love,” you tell him. “If you make yourself cum right now, I promise I’ll fuck you so good you won’t know any other words than thank you,” you coo. He sinks his teeth into your flesh as he gets closer to his orgasm.
“I’m going- I’m- y/n,” Viktor rambles as his hips unceasingly grind on you. “Y/n!”
His arms tighten around you as he spills his cum into his pants. Viktor is temporarily free from the pain in his leg as his legs twitch. “I love you,” Viktor slurs in your ear, feeling you roll on top of him. “I need more…”
You pull away from him to see how pretty he looks underneath you. The moon glinted in his eyes, and his list was evident in his gaze. As your nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants, you let him pull you back down to his lips in a lazy kiss. “Insatiable,” you chide when you pull away for air.
Viktor pulls your shirt off of your body. “I just crave you. In every way, all the time, unceasingly.”
You chuckle and grasp his chin. “I love you too, Viktor.”
THE BAAAAD TOUCH!
synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.
tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)
a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.
“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”
he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity.
“fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory.
“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there.
“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.”
you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair?
“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?”
“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle.
he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust.
“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?”
“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.”
“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.”
“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.”
“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.”
jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really.
“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?”
he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him.
“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.”
and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it.
his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.
VANDER
. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes.
“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…”
he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide.
there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty.
vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care.
it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is.
“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust.
“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.”
who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were.
“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock.
hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it.
before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed.
the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it.
“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.”
he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted.
“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.
SILCO
silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon.
“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?”
silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes.
“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts.
“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.”
“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?”
silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through.
“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.”
you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that.
“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.”
“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?”
“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.”
“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?”
but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?”
“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.”
you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content.
he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good.
“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?”
“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.”
the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly.
you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything.
“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy.
“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.”
you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name.
you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.
VIKTOR
“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.”
his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it.
“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?”
viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so.
“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.”
it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him.
but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?
he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself.
it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is.
maybe it’ll fit.
“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.”
“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all.
“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…”
you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only.
he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.”
you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak.
he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.
it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined.
“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.”
you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.
masterlist!
‼️RANT‼️
TW: porn, sa, rape, pedo, this is a commentary.
Im so tired of the Bsd fandom. Like i like it sometimes, i won’t deny that, but there is too much porn 😭😭.
I want family fond, fluff, anything! I want teen reader who acts too much like a bsd character when they were their age. I want a teen reader in the beast au whos dazai right hand like how dazai was moris right hand. I want dad/mom bsd parent. I want teen reader taking the place as the new demon prodigy, i want intelligent reader. I want child of chuuya or dazai meeting someone who is just like chuuya or dazai. (Idk how to explain well but here you go. Ex: Child of chuuya meets someone who acts just like dazai when chuuya met dazai, or child of dazai gets body slammed by someone who acts like chuuya). I want a sassy child reader. I WANT PLOT. PLEASE IM BEGGING, IM SO BORED OF JUST READING PORN AFTER PORN CAUSE THERES NOTHING ELSE. ITS SO DRY IN HERE. IF YOUR GONNA MAKE PORN, MAKE IT INTERESTING. I DON’T WANT TO SEE DADDY DAZAI, THAT MAN IS NOT A DADDY, HES A MANIPULATIVE TWINK. At this point its not even nice to read it. I can just hear my pussy shrivel up and die every time i stumble across smut or lemon or whatever people call it nowadays. Also side note non-con, pedo shit, etc is way to normalized in this fandom.
Edit: i just want to add im not against porn, do whatever you want i can’t control you. What im so upset about is the fact its only porn. I can’t find a x reader (Platonic or Romantic) without it being anime characters raw dogging it. I just want more variety.
Edit 2: I’m being overdramatic as a joke. I don’t like complaining without adding things that will make me laugh, sorry I didn’t make that clear. If you don’t agree with my opinion scroll away, this wasn’t made to start any fights. This is just mindless ranting about what bugged me at the moment. Please don’t give me solutions or try to treat me like a I’m stupid. I already know what solutions to take, and I’m already taking them. I also want to add again: I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH PORN. DO NOT DEBATE WITH ME ABOUT IT.
Edit: Ya’ll are porn addicts. This is a commentary, its my opinion. Mindless rambling. But the way im seeing people get straight up attacked for saying it’s weird how much porn there is, especially since most of the topics are not okay. Im lucky to have only a few try to fight me. And I want to add, Im not talking about consenting adults. Im talking about yandere (Yandere is debatable, if it’s executed well), rape, sa, pedo. I find it disgusting. I understand if you’re using it as a tool for comfort but understand that is not healthy. My conclusion is, porn, no matter what form it is, is just as addictive, and If you find something you don’t like scroll, if you keep getting that something then block, if you see something not okay then report, block, then scroll.
I got a little silly
Good Dad Mace Windu strikes again!
I love to show how I think Maul would fight against the constant call of the dark side, and how Mace is absolutely amazing at regulating his violent instincts!
mace in shatterpoint is so good
"You are better prepared than most." Mace balanced his lightsaber on his palm. "But like all those others, you've forgotten the only piece of equipment that would actually do you any good." "Yeah? What's that?" Mace's voice went cold, and his eyes went colder. "An ambulance."
[Image ID: The two-panel "Call the ambulance! / But not for me!" meme. The old man pulling out the gun has been labeled "mace windu." /End ID]
we’ve all watched the scene of logan putting out the cigar on himself and it got me thinking about him with a reader whose mutation allows them to burn people. (he’s such a freak i need him).
-
he’s a squirming, whimpering mess underneath you. such a gorgeous sight, and one that only you get to witness - the big, bad wolverine turned into a moaning mess through the use of your power, completely at your mercy, his hands tied so he couldn’t fight you off even if he’d wanted to (not that he ever would).
you were anxious to try this. your power wasn’t one that could be used for good. it only ever caused pain, suffering, family and friends leaving you once it had manifested, spitting out words that felt like venom. you burn people when you touch them, like fire licking over their skin, making them cry and scream and beg for mercy.
you have gloves of every colour of the rainbow, an array of different fabrics and patterns and textures, pairing them with your outfit every day. you hate touching people, hate hurting them.
but logan has a thing for pain. he’d admitted it to you, under the cover of a dark and cloudy sky, when you’d asked him how he could possibly stand to be with you when you’d never be able to touch him, never be able to kiss him without hurting him.
he’d begged you, actually begged you to touch him, to burn him, to hurt him.
for the first time ever you can touch someone without a layer of fabric in between. you can drag your fingers along his thighs and watch the red burn marks it leaves behind, watch the colour fade and the texture smooth over as his body heals itself. it’s like he was made for you, a perfect match, both with cracked and broken edges, but somehow you fit.
“fuckin’ touch me,” he spits, “c’mon.”
“i am touching you,” you reply, pressing your hand down onto his hairy chest. his skin is warm, slightly damp from a thin layer of sweat, alive and real. he cries out, but it’s not the sound you’re used to hearing when you touch people. it’s a whine, higher than you thought his voice could go, pain and pleasure mixing into something he hadn’t been able to describe to you in words.
“y’know what i mean,” he pants. you just smile, serene. you’re not teasing him on purpose, though you must admit it’s certainly entertaining to watch him fall apart, rather you’re taking the opportunity you thought you’d never get, exploring your lover's body with your touch, breathless at the feeling of skin against skin.
you finally grab his cock, feeling the thick, warm weight of it in your hand. you can feel the telltale buzzing under your skin, the sign that your powers are burning him, but he doesn’t try to pull away from you. rather, his hips jerk up, chasing more of the feeling. a bead of precum pearls at the tip, and you rub it down his shaft.
“you actually like this,” you muse, “you’re such a freak.”
the degrading comment only makes him groan, rutting his hips up to fuck into your fist. and he’s just so pretty, so lovely when he’s desperate, so as much as you want to play with him, spend hours making him beg, you don’t. because you need to see what he looks like when he’s falling apart.
you jerk him off slow, never letting the pressure relent. it’s a fight with your instincts, your mind telling you to let go before you hurt him, before he decides that he doesn’t actually like this, before he leaves like everyone else. but he heals as fast as you burn him, again and again.
you watch his face instead of your hand, focusing on the way his lips part with each sound he makes, the pleasure contorting his expression. he gets louder, warnings filling the space between you, and then his hips stutter, faltering, and you watch his eyes roll back as he cums, shooting thick ropes of white all over his own chest.
your eyes widen slightly at how quickly you’d made him cum, but he’s already hardening again in your hand, chasing the pleasure of his orgasm even as it fades.
“do it again,” he orders, though really he’s in no position to be making demands. still, you oblige, because it feels good to be able to hurt him and know he’ll always come back. you could definitely get used to this, and isn’t that a terrifying thought.
this is a multi-chapter fic
warnings: mentions of order 66, war (it’s star wars…), violence, loss of a mentor, injury (to reader and others)
notes: there are many original aspects to this fic, such as the names of planets, reader’s master, and their venator. some force methods in this story are original too. theory on lightsaber colors, some drawn from legends.
summary: the bad batch tells omega the story of the reader (through the memories of the reader)
A/N: i’ve been working on this idea for a few weeks now & it’s my first multi-chapter fic for tbb! there is not a set update schedule for this fic. if you would like to be tagged in this fic, fill out this form!
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Unorthodox
Chapter 2 - Attachment
Chapter 3 - Favorite Clones
Chapter 4 - Safe
Chapter 5 - Return to Coruscant
Chapter 6 - Reunited
Chapter 7 - Result of Anaxes
Chapter 8 - TBA
Chapter 9 - TBA
Chapter 10 - TBA
Chapter 11 - TBA
Main Masterlist
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. ❤
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. ❤
Imma starting moving all my sw shit to here
Chapter One
Swirling your brush in a cup the clinking sound echoes in the open space, reminding you of the click of a gun. The once red color in the cup turned a murky violet. A dark dusk of sorts. Your head spun as you tried not to focus on the color, fire filling your vision before it disappeared as you pulled your paintbrush back and dipped it in a soothing blue, some light green tipped on the now wet brush end.
Staring at a picture of a blurry silhouette with sharp clothes you hum wondering what color eyes they had. As you stir new shades and tints on your pallet you imagine what the person's nose shape was like. If their mouth was big or small. Where they belonged in the jumble that was your brain and the locked past it held. The fish swimming around the person's head was a stylistic choice but as you mixed the blue and green you wondered if there was more to it. If the person enjoyed the aquatic creatures or perhaps lived near the river edge?
"(Y/N)." Not looking up from your latest artwork as Caitlyn walked in you frowned, taking a step back to try and piece it all together. The last light of the day leaked through the giant studio windows giving your work a golden halo, putting it in a new perspective. Studying the edges and the details you'd painted they became blurry with the sunlight. Clutching your pallet knife you tilt your head, this piece had less detail on the person than your other ones. However, the colors were bolder and more defined with sharper lines. The background was the emphasis but for once you felt like you actually knew what this person looked like. You just weren't able to paint it yet, not fully committed to the details.
How strange that you remembered this outfit so clearly, having drawn it a million times but not the features of the person who wore it. Mixing a different color on your pallet without looking down you purse your lips trying to concentrate as you add something else to the background. You could faintly remember sea blue. Maybe a soft gray or green. A lighthouse or the ocean perhaps? Is that why you added the fish?
Whoever he was, he was important as this wasn't the first portrait you'd done of him. He was a lanky man in a red and black suit with a white dress shirt. The background was a blur of grays and greens with purple brush strokes that looked like fish but maybe smoke if you squinted. The whole picture was odd. Staring at it too long made your head hurt because it felt strangely familiar. He was important to you. Whoever he was. Just another piece of the puzzle that was your past.
"You know usually I'm the one obsessing." She states referring to her yellow tape and red thread board back home. "Come now you can't wear your smock to the art show tonight." Caitlyn scolds as she places a nice outfit down on the cleared part of your glass art desk. You shook your head in response tsking softly.
That was a risky move given the fact paint somehow always got on your clothes no matter what you did in this room. Briefly glancing at the ensemble you wonder if she was trying to ruin the clothes to make an excuse to skip the event, whatever it was tonight.
As the natural light began to fade the painting no longer glowing, you signed placing your brushes and pallet down. The blank face of the man you were trying to paint wasn't going to get any more detail any time soon. Though you guessed that's just how it worked. Reaching out wishing you could pull the man out of the painting, ask him all your burning questions, you paused not wanting to touch the wet paint.
He wouldn't be able to answer you anyways. Bits and pieces, never the whole picture. Always searching and wanting for more. Insatiable…
"(Y/N)." Caitlyn states again as she tries to gain your attention but your focus was elsewhere, lost in this room and your work. Taking a deep breath to try and gather yourself for whatever she was going to say next, you could feel a headache coming on and you didn't like it. Rubbing at your temples you hum indicating you want her to continue but she remains quiet waiting for you to speak.
Rolling your eyes before staring at your painting as your hands touch the glass of your art desk behind you, you try and ground yourself. To bring yourself back to a safe space. Instead you think of your endless collages, or the box of failed faces. As one hand came to press against your forehead pushing your hair back and giving you some clarity you spared a glance at said box which you'd pushed into the corner out of frustration. Another recently failed project. You'd tried placing different details from different paintings and projects together, overlapping them over one another to try and get a full person. They always came out looking horrid. Like some kind of twisted nightmare rather than a real person from a memory. Very occasionally you'd get a full face but mostly you had slightly warped portraits or very blurred places. Nothing solid if it was anything before you came to Piltover.
As your fingers touched the box observing the torn pieces of canvas and failed attempts you realized you'd crossed the room without noticing. Humming you paused, wandering if you should worry about that. About to sass Caitlyn, your words suddenly die on your tongue as your eye catches something. One of your shredded pieces that had bright pink and blue. Your hand shook as your thumb grazed the ungesssoed canvas and faintly you heard distant laughter. Echoing in an alley.
"Art… Art show?" You finally question Caitlyn, composing yourself as you let your hands fall to your sides so you could steady them and let her untie your messy smock. As you let go of the canvas and stepped back from the box slowly your mind was getting out of painting mode. You began to relax as you focused on your friend and what she was saying rather than your lost memories. The woman in question groans in exasperation before pinching her nose as she steps back letting you shrug off the apron. Noticing she's in her enforcer uniform and not a dress for what you assume is a galle event you smile and shake your head as she takes the apron from you hanging it up on its hook with the others. Stepping towards your curtains as she does that, you close them before the room's timer goes off and gas powered light fills the space with an artificial glow.
Only gone a minute and you already missed the sunlight.
"Honestly I thought I was the obsessed one. Your dad rented out the gallery again," She informs you like a mother scolding a child who forgot something important. Needing to do something not able to sit still as you come out of your trance state she begins walking around the room cleaning up things in the messy space as she tries to get you ready to go. Scraping paint off pallets and dumping them into soapy water to soak you watch with an amused smile as she places your brushes on the counter to be cleaned later. She paces nervously fidgeting with one of your brushes before turning towards you looking worried. Her Violet eyes seeming unsure.."... Don't you remember? He's showing your work tonight. He's been talking about it all week." Caitlyn states before she pushes off whatever emotions she was feeling as she crossed her arms. You briefly remember that conversation but was that really tonight? The week had been a blur of research and projects and events, flashing cameras and reporters all over the campus as you tried to study and work. There was barely a moment's rest to yourself until you locked the door to your art studio for some peace and quiet. Groaning as you pinch your nose and clench your eyes you wish one of your maids had reminded you but with how distracted you'd been lately maybe they had.
Swallowing you looked towards a vase in the room. Flowers your father had dropped off while you were deep in thought and surrounded by your artwork. Thinking back you couldn't remember the conversation but logically it was likely about the gallery. Pulling at your hair out of habit you hummed, you really were a mess as of late. With the anniversary of you being found soon you guessed that made sense. Your thoughts and feelings all being in disarray, your "spells" being worse than usual.
Staring at the water cup with the swirling purple you see the smoke again, you taste the gun powder. Thinking back that was one of your more clear memories, the first you were sure was true. Blinking you were back on that bridge again. The smoke making you choke before the rush of clear air as your dad's heavy enforcer mask settled over your face. You could feel yourself being small, feel his uniform as he pressed you into his shoulder and took you home. The question had been deeply ingrained in you for so long but you still didn't know the answer; What were you doing on that bridge?
Closing your eyes not wanting to think of that right now you took another deep breath to steady yourself. You didn't want to spiral.
"That's tonight?" You ask not sure how you forgot as you begin to take off your shirt to change. Caitlyn's face goes red and she turns away from you before tapping her foot angrily. The sound bounces around in your head and something about this feels familiar in a way you can't quite explain.
Sharp blue eyes on a stern face and crossed arms come to mind as a black boot taps impatiently away but the flash is gone as soon as it comes. Touching your desk feeling cool glass under your fingertips you swallowed. Did you take your meds today, your headaches were worse than usual, these flashes more frequent… your therapist warned the incoming anniversary of you being found could trigger some repressed memories but this felt excessive. You'd been doing so well.
"Yes, now hurry up and get dressed! I'm your escort and bodyguard tonight. Marcus tried to put me outside but I didn't want to miss anything. Just..." She hesitates and you smile softly as you put on the white shirt with the looped gold collar. The golden hoop of the white dress shirt hung heavy around your neck as it looped and clicked behind your shoulders but sliding the black slacks on you admit Caitlyn chose well, never one for fashion didn't mean she didn't have a good eye. You'd be lost without her in more ways than one. Slipping on a dress jacket that was your favorite color you hum glancing at the wall of mirrors in your studio. Doing a little spin watching seven you's spin back in response you nod to yourself.
"Just in case." You finish her thought for her as you smooth out the shirt and jacket with a blank face. Seeing your reflection she sighs and you hum smiling as you keep adjusting your clothes to look presentable. Your headaches had been at an all time low before today and despite your forgetfulness and the dreaded upcoming date you felt confident. I mean your skull was pounding and the flashes were more frequent but you knew you could handle the gala tonight, you had done it before with way worse pain and you didn't want anyone to think something was wrong.
You were fine, everything was fine…
"Just please tell me you didn't forget! I couldn't get off duty tonight to attend as a guest. To schedule myself at your gala as a guard I had to take a double shift at work and to be your personal escort and guard that was a whole nother mountain of paperwork and personal favors. A lot of enforcers like your work ya know, and all the new guards want to meet you. I mean you are your father's child. Everyone wants to show their support. Or get… favors." She states matter of factly with slight distaste making you chuckle. The both of you were no stranger to your families status and the luxuries that came with your last names.
"Right, my hero." You hum a teasing smile on your lips as you watch your friend rant getting out her emotions about these type of events and what people really wanted from them. They were meant to help people and yet help was often the last thing on people's minds unless it was them getting it. You had to admit as she lectured the wall she was cute. Her overprotectiveness always made you feel special and even as her new job as an Enforcer you were always on her mind. Maybe not in the same way as before but you could accept that. As you adjust your jacket, sticking your hands into the pocket, you send her a playful smirk.. "Oh and you do know escort has a double meaning, correct Caitlyn darling?" You ask in a sultry voice wanting to tease her hoping it'll loosen her up a bit. She turns and staring at her, her violet eyes scan your form. Puffing out her cheeks embarrassed as she understands what you mean you walk out of the studio with her following close behind.
You catch her smile in the corner of your eye but say nothing simply walking outside into the hallway and through the large manor to the awaiting carriage outside.
~~~
The ride had been quiet the last few minutes. You'd joked about opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate but Caitlyn gently informed you she couldn't drink tonight and you didn't want to be sipping alone. A rock had formed in your throat and as you fidgeted with your hands every jolt of the carriage put you on edge. What had started as a fun ride was slowly turning into your worst nightmare as the Galla got closer.
Caitlyn these last couple months had gone from your closest friend to your body guard, one of her most frequent Enforcer jobs being to watch you. As work and friendship crossed you were unsure where your new relationship stood. If you were just overthinking and if it had changed at all.
As the carriage stops suddenly you hum feeling your stomach doing flips. Adjusting your accessories and clothes nervously, you close your eyes feeling the pulsing behind your eyes worsen. The thought that you could claw your temples open to feel some relief crosses your mind but you stay silent not voicing that thought. Caitlyn frowns noticing your unsteady state before she takes your hands into her own.
Eyes snapping to look at hers at the surprise contact her thumb brushes the back of your palm. "You're not looking very well. If you're not up for it we can turn around. Say you got sick…" She suggests softly before looking towards the curtain separating you from the driver. Staying quiet not wanting to be teased, one of her hands goes to your cheek and leaning into her hold you close your eyes taking a deep breath. What a nice thought…
"I'm just tired. I'll be fine after some wine." You joke before sighing deeply as she just stares at you waiting for the truth. You shift in the plush seats and just breathe. These events could be fun or cumbersome, tonight seemed to be the later. Shifting the curtains when you no longer feel bumps you realize you'd arrived. As you watch cameras flash, high society people get their pictures taken before entering the galla. You were no stranger to being in the spotlight and yet you felt you never quite belonged there. Your art told a story, your story. And you weren't sure if you wanted to share it. Especially since you barely knew your story yourself. You don't remember how the Gallas started, only that once your first piece was put up it hadn't stopped since.
A prodigy some called you. An imposter you told yourself.
"I-" She starts but your hand is already on the carriage handle before you lose the nerve. Twisting and pushing it open light floods your eyes as your regular driver waits outside for you. Voices surround you and you feel woozy as you're transported to a different place with different sounds. Your driver bows, snapping you back before holding out his hand. Feeling disorientated you reach out, your touch going from cold metal to warm leather. As he grips your hand firmly your eyes widen. Stepping down from the carriage into his hold you get a memory of someone holding your hand as you hop down from a curb. A man in a red and black suit…
As people chatter away excited to get a glimpse of you, reporters ask questions as cameras flash. The drivers grip remains and each step down the carriage steps contains a different image but right as your about to get the whole picture, the flashes are over in an instant. Just like the camera shutters around you.
As you stand there eyes wide in surprise, Caitlyn puts her hand to your back shocking you. You snap out of it, grounded by her touch and knowing smile before you begin to walk forwards at her silent instruction. Waving at reporters from famous newspapers you act normal. Enforcers nod keeping the crowd contained but the familiar faces do nothing to soothe your feelings.
Standing tall you walk forward with practiced elegance, reminding yourself you only need to make it to the entrance. As journalists fire off their usual questions about your outfit, your art, and if you've had any recent episodes you smile and wave not answering any of them. Caitlyn stands close as she follows you, her hand pressed firmly against your back and soon you stand in front of two polished doors. The enforcers on either side glare at Caitlyn before smiling at you as they bow and let you both inside. You don't miss Caitlyn's frown but it's gone as quick as it comes, similar to your flashes.
Unable to dwell on it, you walk through the open entrance and into the large art gallery. As you hear the familiar click of the heavy doors behind you, the light changes as you go from outside to inside. Your familiar work hangs from every wall in the space and you know every guest in this room.
Breathing heavily Caitlyn opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. You're grateful, only needing a minute from her. Leaning down and closing your eyes you hum, taking a deep breath before you nod and compose yourself.
Observing the space you took comfort in seeing your work. Some of the pieces are projected as holograms lighting up the room, while others are sculptures scattered about, and elsewhere are large oil paintings and mixed medium collages. Letting out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding you let yourself relax. While the night isn't over it feels safer surrounded by things you understand. With Caitlyn's hand moving from your back to more comfortably settle on your shoulder you nod at her feeling the episode pass.
A real smile begins to overtake your face as you take in all your old work. Your father was good at asking before picking some of your pieces to sell and getting his friend who owned the gallery to hang and price them. While some were harder to give up then others you always said yes putting all the money you made towards the Undercity and the relief effort you'd started there. The orphanage and jail always appreciating your efforts. It wasn't much compared to what else you could be doing but your father liked to organize these for you to give you some peace of mind about the UnderCity and its limited resources. You know he'd much prefer you'd paint full time and let him handle the charity affairs. He didn't want you going into any dangerous job options like Caitlyn and him had.
"A full house tonight. You never cease to impress." Caitlyn states as she bumps your shoulder. Nodding as you come out of your haze, seeing a lot of familiar faces and some new ones in the corner of your eye you watch as people mingle and talk about your art. Trays stacked high with hor de vours and various selections of alcohol pass making the guests smile and laugh as they took their fill.
Searching the room you get a wide smile on your face as you see Jayce and Victor standing off to the side. They're looking at one your father insisted on displaying so he could buy it and support your cause. Running towards them you hug Viktor before he can respond. He stumbles back leg nearly buckling but hugs you back with the same enthusiasm you do him. His laugh lightens your mood as Jayce helps support his fellow inventor and you hum as he squeezes you tight. Jayce joins the hug with his own laugh before he takes you from Viktor and picks you up spinning you around.
"Show off." Viktor teases as he taps his cane against Jayces leg. Jayce simply snorts and puts you down much to the amusement of onlooking guests. He ruffles your hair before doing the same to Viktor with that same hearty smile. Caitlyn, while seeming unamused, has the tinest smile on her lips at your childish behavior.
"Look at you. You're a regular Divinchi." Jayce compliments before he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gestures to your work. Feeling your cheeks darken you lean against him happy he could make it with his busy schedule. He chuckles at your flustered expression and tucks some stray hair behind your ear as you smile up at him.
"Often insanity and creativity walk hand in hand I admit. Though Divinchi is a high title to live up to." You respond making him shake his head. His chocolate eyes shine as he squeezes you close.
"And a poet too. Viktor look at our little idealist, they're all grown up now." Viktor rolls his eyes at Jayces antics before he stares at you. Shifting his cane to be center he leans slightly forward and nods agreeing.
"You my dear have many talents. I envy them all." He says genuinely tilting his head towards the piece they'd been looking at. Staring at it you smile, the portrait of you and your father making you happy. You'd wanted to gift it to him but he wanted to support you, so here it hung with his bid already placed. A man who's actions spoke louder than any words he'd ever said.
"Oh." You state eyes widening as you notice a large canvas with the school painted on it next to your family portrait. "Is Heimerdinger here?" You question, suddenly curious about your teacher and the oldest council member. You had no idea why they came to these things but the council members always stopped by to show their support, ever since your first galla. It was only kind of you to return the gesture by thanking them for coming and catching up. Even if you didn't always want to.
"You know Heimerdinger he's… everywhere." Caitlyn lets out a snort at Jayces unhelpful comment and Jayce flicks her hats feather in response. As they begin to argue you turn to nod your head at Viktor before you slip off into the crowd to find the council members and maybe your father.
Grabbing a glass of champagne as it passes the waiter nods his head at you before he goes to service other guests. Smiling as you sip at the bubbly liquid your eyes scan the space looking for various people to say hi too.
Catching a glint of metal from across the room you pause turning your head to get a better look. Spotting Marcus you smile before waving at him, holding up your champagne to toast. His associates all have wine glasses but his hands are suspiciously empty. As he nods his head at you politely holding up his hand to give a small wave you chuckle gesturing for him to come over. He shakes his head no and waves his hand away gesturing for you to go back to your friends. Humming you take a step closer noticing he's with an odd crowd. One you haven't seen at your galas before.
Beginning to walk towards them to see what they're all looking at you pause before pushing that feeling of suspicion away. As you stop shoes no longer clicking against the tile you swallow. Caitlyn told you to have fun and the night was young, you couldn't be focusing on your delusions now. Blowing him a little kiss he shakes his head and taps his chest on the opposite side of his badge, gesturing to you that he received the kiss and was keeping it safe. An old and bit odd inside joke. But one you refused to let go of regardless. You wave before turning to disappear into the crowd. Taking another sip of champagne you do your best not to feel anxious as Marcus's strange friends stare a hole into your back.
As a hand grabs your shoulder you quickly turn eyes wide as you get ready for a fight. "You can't just wander off!" Staring at Caitlyn your body unstiffens and you once again relax as you almost finish off your champagne. Just a few hours anyone could do this for a few hours.
"Sorry, just saying hello." You hum much to her displeasure.. Smiling softly as she relaxes you once again sip at your drink trying to soothe your rattled nerves. Nothing was wrong, you needed to calm down. You could do this.
Wandering around with Caitlyn looking for various people you pause as you reach a quieter part of the galla. Someplace more in the back. Tilting your head in front of a painting with a blue haired girl your eyes trace her face. Caitlyn was usually pretty stiff during her job but she puts her arm on your shoulder leaning on you in a rare moment of loosening up. With no one around to witness this you feel more open then you had in awhile. Short blue hair that frizzed at the end and had odd knick knacks woven and tied into it.
"She's pretty." She says softly and you nod wrist shifting to bubble your second glass of champagne. The liquid swirls as you do the repetitive motion and Caitlyn frowns concerned as she studies your action and face.
"I've been calling her Sapphire." You say suddenly, your eyes flicking up to stare at the faceless girl with blue hair.
"Cause of her hair?" Caitlyn questions and for a second you get a flash of sapphire eyes staring up at you as you braid choppy hair. Laughter ringing lightly in your ears as a girl with pink hair sits close by. She's smiling as you giggle tying trinkets into messy blue locks, giving the girl little braids. Three boys sit in the room observing but not interrupting as they do their own things. A smaller one occasionally handing you little knick knacks that'll sparkle in her hair.
"Yeah something like that." Taking a sip of your drink you frown as it goes down rough and not smooth like the other sips. "Hey you saw Marcus with those people right?" You suddenly question feeling like you knew them from somewhere despite not recognizing their faces. The woman in purple especially catching your attention.
"Marcus is here? He wasn't supposed to come tonight. I guess he made time for you." Caitlyn hummed surprised before she turned towards you. "I know my boss can be suspicious but tonight is about you. Your father wants you to be happy and unlike my parents he really tries. Let's just get through tonight since we already committed before we're back to the red string and endless questions." She suggests and you nod slowly but that feeling in your gut doesn't disappear. As much as you tried to dispel it, it kept creeping in the back of your mind.
As Caitlyn goes to lead you away you pause as a familiar face greets you.
"Your art has come so far. I marvel at your talent and envy all your fans." Mel teases. Caitlyn bows her head in respect and you nod at her. The girl swallows but nods pointing to where she'll be waiting as you chat privately with Mel.
Smiling at the Council woman looking at the work she's observing you hum seeing a large canvas you'd done of her and the Council at a meeting your father had asked you to attend. It was one people had flocked too all night you observed from the bidding stickers but it was just you and Mel looking at it now.
"Mel it's been awhile. We should schedule a painting session together. I miss those." You respond smiling warmly as you settle next to her.
"Yes, well life has been busy as I'm sure your father's told you." Swirling your glass of champagne faster you hum frowning softly. Staring at your reflection in the golden liquid you look back up at the painting. He hadn't. Not lately.
He wanted you away from his work. From him. You and Caitlyn knew something was wrong but as two high Noble society children your concerns were often brushed off and not taken seriously. You were close to something big and yet…
"Dads been quiet about work. You know after all I've worked for and all he's prepared me for he wants me to switch careers. Caitlyn and I may have passed the physical and mental exams with flying colors but he... worries." You murmur quietly as you fidget with your glass. "Caitlin's dad supports her but my dad... he'd prefer I chose to continue my law studies. Or change my schooling altogether and focus on something else." You state solemnly. As much as you loved your father you felt it was unfair. Like there was something bigger that he and everyone else was hiding from you.
"Hextech?" She asks surprised bringing you out of your sprailing thoughts. Smiling at the name Jayce gave his invention, that explosion that kick started everything felt like it happened yesterday. It felt like you were found on the bridge yesterday.
"More medical field I believe but I think he'll take anything other than Enforcer at this point. Even regular old painter." You remark as you observe the details of the meeting you'd chosen to paint.
"And that bothers you?" Mel asks. Tilting your head you squint at the details of the picture in front of you. Such a different piece than your other ones which were blurry and indistinct. And yet everyone kept hovering to this one. Easier to understand and more straight forward you supposed. Something from your new life and not your old. They always seemed to prefer that.
"... Mel is something going on I should be worried about? Some kind of civil unrest? The undercity. I've heard rumors and my dads making excuses for me not to go to any of the prisons or my charity anymore. I have friends there. People I'm trying to help. I need to know the truth. You need to tell me the truth." You state.
The woman remains quiet for a moment. Her brown eyes seem to search for the right words as she sips at her drink slowly. A red wine that seemed too much like blood to you. "Perhaps focusing on work outside your father's would be good. He worries about you. We all do. With your..." She hesitates before waving her hand dismissively trying to change the subject.
"My spells?" You demand and her brows furrow as she glances at you. The silence is all you need for confirmation. Sighing you look away from the Council Meeting and towards a different picture. A silhouette of a man with a halo around his head. You see that blue green color again. You can hear a chuckle. Mel's touch brings you back as she squeezes your shoulder.
"... I've said too much. Please be kind to him. Your father loves you much more than you know. You're very lucky to have him. You know," Mel hesitates, something you've rarely seen her do. As she looks at your painting and you stare into your glass a wistful look crosses her face. "My past is tricky when it comes to family and relationships." She admits in a rare moment of sincerity, no politics, no deals. Just the truth.
Or perhaps it's manipulation. You can never tell with Mel, you do your best not to dwell. You like to think your relationship and mentorship with her is genuine, but in a place like Piltover… you never know.
Nodding you look away from your least favorite piece onto other things. Your eyes stop on a more symbolic painting, an older one. It was crudely done as you hadn't cleaned the edges or made the details fine. Fangs and claws and fur. Oh to be the fox and wolf as Mel often told you.
"... Mingle?" You question and her eyes light up like the fox in your painting sensing your planning something.
"You don't usually enjoy networking." She observes watching you carefully and you shrug before finishing your flute of Champagne in one final swig.
"Feels like a night to try something new." You state waving down a waiter to take your glass so you could grab another.
…
With Mel by your side you'd avaded Caitlyn and most of the Enforcers walking around the party. While you loved having her around having her around as an Enforcer was much harder than having her around as your friend. While you'd tried to stay calm the whole night and not make it into a conspiracy your suspicion grew every time you saw Marcus from the corner of your eye with that group of people. As you inched your way closer throughout the night you glanced around. No one was watching you…
Slipping away from Mel while she was distracted with a council member you kept your head high as you walked with purpose. As you get closer to the odd group, your focus goes to one of the people Marcus is talking to. Your eyes catching on her arm and how it's covered by a pretty velvet cape.
"No you can't talk to them-" Marcus insists, not yet noticing you as you got closer. The lights on this side of the room were dimmer as there were less art pieces. It made your curiosity burn brighter as you wondered what Marcus and this strange clinte were talking about. If they were clinte at all.
"Why are they painting him? Who are they? He's mad Marcus! He wants some serious answers." The woman snaps back angrily. Coming closer and getting more questions than answers the woman notices you staring and shifts to better cover her arm. Her friends stiffen at your presence and adjust their suits and dresses which you notice are more worn than anyone else in the room.
"They're nobody. It's a side hobby, just a thing they sometimes do-" Marcus states and you tilt your head unsure if you should be insulted or not. Was he protecting you from something? From someone?
"Marcus?" You question finally catching his attention as you take in his new friends. He immediately goes pale hearing you call his name and turns to face you. As the woman smirked you could see him getting stressed like you weren't supposed to be here. Squinting you hum as you observe the chief, what was he up to?
"(Y/N)! Why aren't you with Caitlyn?" Marcus demands and you step back at the tone of his voice. The intensity of his question. As the group continues to stare you begin to piece together that they're from the Undercity or at least a lower class section of Piltover.
"She's talking to Jayce. Marcus I need-" You start but he ignores you. Unlike his playful disposition earlier he was being much colder now. As you swallowed something about this whole situation didn't settle right with you. This clearly had nothing to do with your galla.
"I'm sorry this is a private discussion I need you to-" Marcus starts in a much kinder tone trying to direct you away but the woman ignores him. Stepping in front of him to get to you Marcus glares, his fists balling at his sides. She tilts her head observing you before she smirks. Maroon lipstick catching the limited light.
"(Y/N) Right?" The woman was tall, elegant, and walked with authority. Several scars of different sizes littered her face and shoulders. Taking in her physique she seemed like she'd had a harder life. A laborer perhaps?
Her purple slit dress with the black velvet coat stood out amongst the other dresses tonight and you found yourself intrigued. Almost pulled in by her. As you studied each other you could see Marcus gritting his teeth. Knowing you'd walked into a possibly dangerous situation you smiled feigning ignorance.
"Yes, that's my name. I guess you could say this is my Galla." Acting shy at the attention you reach up to fiddle with your jewelry and hair. Something about this woman seemed familiar. Maybe it was her voice or maybe it was her face but you had this odd itch in the back of your brain. Like when you were painting right after a flash.
"I'm Sevika." She introduces before holding out her left hand. Confused, you peaked under her cloak to look at her right only for her to take a step back hiding her arm behind herself. Shaking the left trying not to be bothered by it or ask any questions that could get you in trouble you smiled at her.
"Are you interested in this one?" You hum tilting your head towards the canvas as you try to subtly change the conversation. "I don't know if you know this because I haven't seen you at any of my shows before but my paintings are all for charity." You explain with a smile. "All funds go back to the community. As someone so fortunate I try to give back to those more in need then myself." Sevika paused for a moment before her hand wrapped tightly around yours, her grip firm but not crushing like you'd first expected.
"... I'll keep that in mind." She hums softly. "My boss, he's interested in this one." She explains before letting go and gesturing to the painting they'd been talking In Front of for the past few hours.
"Oh your boss? What do you do?" You ask curiously. It was always the same faces at these Gallas, Sevika didn't seem like an average socialite. She screamed adventure but also safety. You feel like you knew her and that wasn't something you felt often when it came to new faces. While there was a danger with interacting with her that you could sense, she knew more than she let on.
"We work in…" Glancing at Marcus amused she focused back on you, eyes seeming to study your every move. It reminded you of an Enforcer or someone running from one. "Exports." She explains and you nod slowly, not sure if you believe her or not. Looking at the painting when she does you suddenly freeze, familiar blue eyes greeting you.
"My dad wasn't supposed to grab this one." You murmur as you step forward. It was one of your favorites hidden behind a sheet so he wouldn't see, one of the only full faces from your past you'd ever been able to complete. You were working on some fine detailing and had moved it from the safety of your room to the studio. It was a bit fuzzy on the edges still and some of the detailing was blurry because you couldn't seem to decide on things like sharp or round features, smooth or bumpy skin but it was an important piece to you.
"Oh?" Sevika questions and you frown looking at the bid at the bottom. "My boss, he'll pay a small fortune for it. Guaranteed." Sevika swears and you turn towards her.
"They said it wasn't for sale. Can we continue-" Marcus tries to regain control of the conversation but Sevika seemed more interested in you than him. The people also focused on you suddenly ignoring Marcus' presence. She stepped closer leaning in to observe your face. As their eyes focused on yours, really taking you in you noticed the sudden way she stiffened. Like she was seeing a ghost.
"Think of all the people in the UnderCity it could help, that is what you're doing isn't it? Your charity?" Quirking a brow at her surprised, you turn your head suddenly. The intensity of her stare suddenly making you uncomfortable.
"I don't like to announce it because I get less sales which means I can help less but yes… That's true." You admit quietly. Did Marcus tell them that? How did they figure it out? The longer you stayed in this corner the more questions you had.
"So a small fortune to help others is surely worth this painting?" Pausing you think of the deal, of what you would be giving away. Reaching your hand out you tap the bottom of the canvas, tracing the intricate picture frame. Was this some sort of psychological test from your father? Did this even have anything to do with you or were you misinterpreting the entire situation?
Focusing on the painting to remain calm, the ravenette man with blue eyes and sharp features made you feel at ease. Swallowing you hum. You wanted to know more about this woman, about the group with her, and her relationship with Marcus.
"And this bosses name? I'd love to meet the man giving so much to my charity." You offer watching Sevikas' body language closely.
"He doesn't do names." She responds quickly and you nod.
"A picture then?" You question. "It's customary for all customers to take a picture with the piece they're buying." Before she can say no like you assume she will, you grab her hand in another firm handshake and smile wide as a flash fills the dark space. As Sevika blinks in surprise and her friends slink into the shadows you take your chance to leave back to the main party. As the photographer walks away you do the same disappearing into the crowd with stolen film in your hand.
While you had a lot of questions you're sure they could wait until that photo was printed. You think you just found another piece of the puzzle.
...
Taglist: @pinkninja200 @shadow-pancake9 @athenapspspsps @mercenarystrike @strawbebe-dk @joscelyn02 @wanna-plan-world-domination @meep-moop-mystic @ebony-wolf @shadow-pancake9 @zeros-rot @beasalmeh @ihatemylifeuwu @domoron @ackermanbitch @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression
Just having a normal conversation with @ghostymarni TBB left us with so many questions, where Clone Rebellion show?!?
Paring: Jaster Mereel X Jon Antilles
Jon has been away for a while, working on a mission in the outer rim. Jaster feels lonely as he tries to keep it together for him and the children.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: angst, pain and comfort, Jaster was missing Jon, pre established relationship, Canon Divergence, heavy petting, not beta read, we die like men.
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pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader
warnings: heavy Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, crude humor, violence, swearing
summary: Since being saved by Wade after your encounter with Cassandra, Logan makes you lead the way in the wasteland in hopes you know where they are.
Part 1 / Part 2
a/n: Per-chance I may have disappeared but that doesn't mean I won't finish this story, sorry for being gone so long, please forgive me with this 2000 word update! Enjoy the long awaited part 3
Currently the three of you were all walking through a grassy field, Wade was annoying Logan like usual as you walked in front of them—to be completely honest you were exactly sure where you were going but you knew you’d get there.
It was like the blind leading the blind but they didn't know that.
As they continued to discuss whatever...dumb things Wade could produce, a loud bark rang in the distance, seemingly catching everyone's attention.
You looked forward, as a strange little dog began to run into view. It was ugly, in an oddly cute way, it's tongue jumping up and down with each step it took.
Logan had a disgusted look on his face, while Wade seemed star struck. Wade began to take his mask off, his mouth agape; as the dog got closer the man fell to his knees, and opened his arms, letting the creature jump up on him and lick his face.
"Look at you!" Wade exclaimed, clearly excited, "She's coming with us,"
"No she's not," The man in yellow protested, obviously not wanting the extra company.
While they bickered you took the opportunity to get a closer look at the dog, it made a strange noise as you did. Although you could tell it enjoyed the affection it was being given.
"Sorry, sorry about that girl!" A voice rang, the group turning to look, saw a, what seemed to be more attractive Deadpool with long hair.
You looked between both men, confused at seeing two Deadpool's at once, more so one that said 'sorry' upon first interaction, "Who are you?" Wade asked, noticeably confused.
The other man stopped for a second to catch his breath, "Oh, I'm Deadpool, and I guess you're Deadpool too," He gestured to the Wade you've been traveling with, "But in here, everybody calls me 'Nicepool'."
You snickered at the name, the thought of a nice Deadpool now in your mind.
"Oh my goodness, wait till you see Ladypool. She is gorgeous," Nicepool began to ramble on, "She just had a baby too and.. woosh. Can't even tell." He told you guys, making a gesture with his hands to show you guys what he meant.
Logan gave him a confused face, while Wade added on, "I don't think you're supposed to say that."
"That's okay," Nicepool told you three, as his right hand went over his heart, "I identify as a feminist."
No longer being able to hold in your laughter from this entire interaction you let out an audible snort/chuckle.
All three men looked at you, Wade had a subtle hint of amusement within his eyes, Logan was just confused and Nicepool looked disappointed you'd laugh at the fact he's a feminist.
"Right," Wade said, deadpanning. Before he suddenly perked up, his attention caught by something, "Are those gold-plated 50 caliber Desert Eagle pistoleros?"
" 'Course, to match my ear huggie," Nicepool responded, a smile on his face while he showed off his gold.
"Can I have 'em?" Wade asked, sounding like a child wanting to open their birthday gifts early.
Nicepool laughed at him, "Over my dead body!" He responded still smiling.
You grimaced at the man, "You're gonna regret saying that to him.." you said, knowing Wade would take it seriously.
"You're fun!" He said looking between you and Wade, "And I guess you've already met Mary Puppins, AKA Dogpool. Careful where you touch her, she's 90% g-spot and she'll let you know it."
You looked back at the dog as Wade adjusted her in his arms.
"You let this little flirt out of your sight for one second and she starts shopping for a new papa!" Nicepool exclaimed, still smiling throughout the whole interaction.
You looked back towards Wade only to see Mary Puppins licking his lips and mouth, slightly disturbed by the strange sight.
"If you can't be a responsible pet owner then maybe you don't deserve this little unicorn!" Wade spoke as if a dog wasn't literally eating at his face.
Nicepool only smiled at him and put his hands together, "Guilty on all charges your honor. Shan't happen again" Nicepool bowed to Wade.
"Why are you so nice?" Wade asked, confused why this alternative version of him was so strange.
Nicepool once again smiled at him, "It cost nothing to be kind."
"Shutting the fuck up is also free," Logan added on, seemingly annoyed at the fact he was surrounded by technically three Deadpool's.
"Caliente!"
"This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he let himself go since the divorce." Wade introduced as he tilted his head towards Logan, "And this little thing right here is Y/N, they're our little time jumper!" You wave a small wave, not wanting to be rude. Nicepool gave you a smile.
"Where's your mask?" Wade asked, a look of suspicion and maybe even a hint of envy on his face.
Nicepool, although still smiling, gave a confused look before regaining his happy demeanor, "Come on guys," He pointed at his face, a knowing look on his face.
Logan just looked disgusted and Wade was annoyed, "Ugh this guy, we're looking for a group of survivors."
"Oh they're out there, but merc to merc, you better hope you don't run into the Deadpool corp, yeah they're crazy!" Nicepool began to explain who they were and what they do, you've been in the void long enough to know who they were, fortunate enough to have never come face to face with them.
You didn't listen much after that conversation, only being asked by Nicepool if these hooligans were bothering you and if you'd like to go with him instead but you declined, more interested in leaving this place then having to be stuck with another Deadpool for the rest of eternity.
As you three were led through what seemed to be a corn maze you stumbled upon a car, that Wade did not seem to like one bit.
"No, no, no. Absolutely not, nu-uh what the- No, no" Wade continued to protest.
"Just get in the car" Logan told him, his tone already showing how he was getting annoyed.
"What's wrong with the car?" You asked Wade confused on why he didn't want to get in.
Wade looked offended when you asked him that, "This isn't a car, this is a Honda fuckin' Odyssey, throttle response sucks a cock, dated infotainment system. When Honda saw that the untreated chlamydia was makin' a comeback, they invented the Honda Odyssey to compete."
You looked at Wade, shocked at how much hate he held for the Honda Odyssey and at the relation he was able to make between chlamydia and a car.
"Get in the fucking car."
Nicepool smiled, his creepy little happy smile, "She'll get you there safe and sound, old Besty always does." Both you and Logan walked up to the car, getting ready to leave as soon as possible, "You're gonna have to give me my dog back though."
"I know. Listen, yes child.." Wade spoke to Mary Puppin's, as he pet her, showing his strange attachment to the furball, "If you ever wanna give her up, or if she needs a new home or if something should.. happen to you, I'd love to be her papa."
Nicepool laughed at Wade's subtle threat, "What would ever happen to me?"
Casually Wade replied, "Lots of stuff," This time the threat didn't seem to go over Nicepool's head.
He gave both you and Logan a nervous look, you could only reply with a sigh before you nudged Logan with your elbow, nodding towards Wade and the dog.
He sighed before standing up and walking towards the two, "Jesus" He muttered under his breathe.
Wade catching on quickly turned away, trying to run into the corn maze, being met with clear failure. "No! We're running away!"
You shook your head in disapproval still leaning on the car, "Give me that." Logan said grabbing the small dog from Wade's arms.
"We were so close girl" He tells Mary Puppins before she is given back to her rightful owner.
Logan handed Mary Puppins back to Nicepool, which then let him get into the car, while Wade slowly entered as well, clearly upset he wasn't able to take her with him. You got in as well, in the backseat of the car, giving a small wave to the little dog and her weird happy owner.
Logan started the car and began the long drive, giving you a little time to rest. Shockingly Wade didn't really speak much, until Logan got to the forest.
"Okay, I'm just gonna ask," Wade started off with, you slowly opened your eyes, still leaning against the window, your arms crossed as you listened in, "What's with the suit? First thing I did when I flamed out I took mine off."
"Drop it," Logan warned him.
"It's not that ugly,"
"Stop talking about my suit."
"Did you make it yourself? Been there."
"Quit. Now."
"The X-Men make you wear it? Those sons of fuckin' bitches. They are not your friends I'll tell you that!" Wade was not getting the hint at all, Logan looked as if he was about to burst, "Friends don't let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the Los Angeles Rams."
Logan replied snappily, not even looking away from the road for a second, "Shut the fuck up about this"
"Woah woah woah, watch your frown lines, angel baby, I'm just trying to bond a little bit."
"Yeah, well then talk about somethin' else," Logan let out an annoyed scoff.
"Fine!" Wade hesitantly said, you let out a quick sigh, thankful that Wade realized he should keep his mouth shut. Slowly you began to close your eyes again, hoping to get a little nap in during this ride.
Slowly but surely you drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of today finally catching up with you. Although the peace wouldn't last long.
You had at least 15 seconds of nap time before the cars sudden stop made you hit your head against the back of Wade's seat.
"Ow!" You exclaimed, grabbing your forehead in your hands, Logan glanced at you, a glint of what you could only assume was worry evident on his face, before he turned back towards Wade.
"What do you mean if?" Logan's voice was raised, mad at whatever Wade had told him during your 15 second nap.
"I mean-"
"You lied to me, you don't have a fucking clue of they can help me fix things do you?"
"No I mean-" Before Wade could even finish his sentence Logan had let out his metal claws, digging them into Wade's leg.
You jumped back, a look of fear on your face, not worried that'd they attack you but that you'd get caught in the cross fire.
"Kid, get out of the car, now" Logan said, not even looking at you, his eyes stilled fixed on Wade. You knew you didn't have to listen twice, you quickly unlocked the door and jogged over to the thickest tree, hopping to use it as protection as the two men fought.
You thought the worst of it was over, you'd heard them yell a bit and assumed it was over once it went quiet but before you could walk back up to the car you saw Logan get thrown out of the car, that right there was your sign this would be an even longer day then it already was.
You watched for a bit before ultimately sitting down against a nearby tree and deciding you might as well take that nap now. You covered your ears and slowly drifted off to sleep.
You began to stir awake when you felt some arms around you and you heard the car turning on, but you assumed it was just one of them men thinking it was best to keep going on with the journey, so you put aside that thought and went back to sleep.
Until you suddenly were jolted awake by the sudden voice and quick movement of Wade, yelling what you assume was Thor.
Pairing: Tech x Jedi!reader
Word count: 1,063
Tags/warnings: angst, grief/mourning, there's alot of signs of autism shown in Tech in this fic but less obvious ones.
Summary: After finding your name in the Imperial obituary, Tech doesn't know how to move on.
A/N: How many aura points do I lose for crying while I wrote this even though it's not that good? I was originally going to have a part two of the reader's perspective where it's reveal that oh my god you're actually alive, but I dont know whether to do that now purely because of how deeply Tech is shown to be grieving and I kinda don't want to take that away from him. Yk what I mean? But if people say they want a part 2 who am I to deny them? Also, yes, the title is based off of that one ABBA song cuz I was listening to it while I wrote this.
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The Marauder was tingling with tension. The genocide of the Jedi, the betrayal of the Empire, the loss of Crosshair and the gain of Omega all happened over the course of twenty-four hours. Everyone had their own reasons to be on edge.
Tech's mind had been on autopilot for days. As soon as he saw what Master Billaba's men did to her and how quickly Crosshair became bloodthirsty for all Jedi, time seemed to stop. He had frantically typed on his datapad to try and find an explanation for such a brutal attack. When Tech saw that it was a full fledged genocide, he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. The only thing that kept him from having a panic attack was his advanced biology.
When they got to the Marauder and fled Kamino, Tech was instantly searching the Imperial database for the list of the dead. He never thought he'd have to check an obituary to find your name, but there you were. Jedi Knight. Executed on Lothal. The reference image they used for you was haunting. To see you stood there, just so alive, with the word executed next to you was enough to make bile stir in his stomach.
It didn't feel real. Tech looked at your information in the obituary again and again and again, but his mind just couldn't process the information. He felt like the only way he could believe you were dead is if he saw your body laying before him and he could never bring himself to do that.
Everyone noticed the difference in their brother. Even Omega, who hadn't even been with them that long, noticed his irregular behaviour. His brothers were puzzled by his reaction to their new living situation. Out of all of them, Tech should be the least likely to get emotional over this. Then again, change has alway been a problem with Tech. It always takes longer for him to process things like this.
They began working for a trandoshan called Cid to do some seedy work. It was obvious why Hunter made them work for her, obvious to Tech anyway. It was because being sent out on missions that have various conditions is all they ever knew. The concept of settling down on a planet and ignoring the war raging on outside is foreign to them.
It's been ten months, three weeks and five days, since your death. Tech's behaviour hasn't changed and his siblings have assumed it's all because of Crosshair up until this point. Tech had been understanding with Crosshair on Kamino and held only mild hatred for his decision.
No. This is something else entirely.
Hunter's heart aches at seeing his brother's despair and having no idea what's making him feeling this way. Tech being Tech, will never say.
He finally snapped when one of Cid's workers, Phee, persistently kept making moves on him. Tech couldn't help the pure emotion radiating off of him in waves, as he shouted and yelled at the woman. It should be you laughing at his sarcasm, it should be you calling him pet names, it should be you with him. He just wants you and that's the one thing he can't possibly have and it hurts, it makes it feel like his heart has been ripped straight out of chest.
Tech stormed off to the Marauder which was a mistake, because everything in there reminds him of you. Your first kiss on his bunk, your late night conversations in the cockpit, your shared experiments at his desk.
He wants to scream and yell at how unfair everything is. Out of everyone in the galaxy, why you? Why did death have to take you? His perfect cyar'ika who could do no wrong and managed to cling to the little faith you had left through the most devastating battles.
Grief is something Tech has experienced only a handful of times. The feelings still feel new and uncertain and that unnerves him. Tech's emotions are usually filed away in organised compartments that only he understands. Now, everything is overflowing and overlapping. Everything is too much.
It's like a bad dream. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants the comfort of a familiar routine, back when his biggest concern was what days him and his cyar'ika would be on shore leave at the same time.
Tech sinks down into the far corner of the bunk room, ripping off his goggles and letting them clatter agaisnt the durasteel floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, before leaning his forehead agaisnt his kneecaps.
The last time he found himself in this position was back when he was a cadet. As much as he tried to ignore it, the regs had gotten to him. 99 had found him curled up in the corner of an embryo lab. He had said nothing at first, just sank down next to him and let him know that he was there if he needed him. Tech found himself wondering for years why he couldn't have been like everyone else, why the Kaminoans made his mind work this way. Tech would give anything to be "normal". He never asked for any of this.
A set of footsteps stomp their way up the ramp and Tech doesn't bother looking up. He's prepared for the demanding yells, the overbearing questions and the looks of outrage on his brothers' faces. What he isn't prepared for is someone sliding down the wall next to him. Tech almost flinches at the feeling of someone placing a hand on his back and tenses all the muscles in his body instantly. Eventually, his body goes back to being lax and a shaky sigh leaves Tech's lips, as he leans into his brother's side.
Tech doesn't want to talk about you to his brothers. If he talks about it, then it's real. Your body is rotting on Lothal and he'll never see you again. He can't face the reality of it. It's too real. He can't do it.
The hand on his back rubs soothing circles into his spine. I'm here, if you need me.
Someday, he will tell the tale of his beautiful cyar'ika and you'll become an honoured part of their mismatched family, even though they had never met you. You will forever live on in his heart.