This Is The Money Marge. Reblog For Good Fortune

So! Bit of a long one but here we go!!

Emmet enemies to lovers!!

Emmet has a rival that he can’t stand! But as he continues to battle them and thusly spend time with them, feelings blossom and he starts to become friends, and then more with the rival!

However!! Before he can do more than recognize his feelings of love, the reader is eebied to Hisui!! Maybe even right in front of him!!

He’s left devastated! Desperate to see them again, because he loves them!!

And they return! After long, lonely months, they come back and finally Emmet has the chance to tell them his feelings!!

What do you think?

I tried! And I hope this turns out well ^^

Cw : hate is said a lot at the end, just in case.

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Emmet always had issues properly expressing his true feelings, or putting them into words, maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

You were Ingo’s friend and got along perfectly with the older twin. But Emmet didn’t like feeling he was being pushed aside, even if he wasn’t. So, he’d demand battles from you at every turn, you couldn’t take ten steps without the smiling twin stepping in front of you, demanding you battle him.

It was infuriating, you couldn’t visit your friend without his brother being a pain.

Worse yet you two were evenly matched.

One battle you’d win, and he’d be livid and then demand another.

The next he’d win and shove it in your face.

The only reason you didn’t say ‘screw the battle, what are your stats’ is because Ingo begged and pleaded with you, swearing his brother isn’t always like this.

You believed him, you truly did, but thought it wouldn’t be that way between you and Emmet.

Your relationship changed when Ingo got sick, he couldn’t stand without falling over, and his fever made him delirious at times. Elesa was out of the region, and Emmet didn’t have anyone else he could ask for help.

That’s when he called you from Ingo’s phone, after a quick doctor visit of course.

He knew you wouldn’t answer a random number, but he had to speak quickly before you hung up on him. He was surprised to see you already at his and Ingo’s house, arms filled with flu-friendly food and medicine. It allowed him to go to work and keep the subway running, knowing Ingo was in your care.

You’d text him throughout the day, letting him know how Ingo was doing. He’d come home to Ingo either asleep and you on the couch, or you in Ingo’s room feeding him soup. However, it left you and Emmet plenty of alone time.

You’d either make dinner or order takeout and watch tv together, finding out you two had more in common than previously thought. You’d two laugh, and share stories, to a comfortable point you’d ask him how his day at work was.

Your friendship was slow going, but after Ingo got better, he was surprised to see you two not at each other’s throats, but the want for battles never stopped, the only difference was Emmet would get excited and ask instead of demand.

Your rivalry was truly something Emmet adores and wanted more than anything. It was a nice change of pace for you two to be seen alone, laughing and joking around.

His feelings for you came as a shock to himself.

It changed him.

You noticed how he’d flip between how he used to be with you, to how he is now.

It got to the point you messaged him.

‘Hey, I know it’s late, and you just got off work, but can we talk tomorrow? At that café, we both like, preferably.’

His heart sank at that message, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

‘Sure! Time?’

‘Maybe around lunchtime?’

‘That works!’

The next day he went to that cafe like you asked, he got there early just to make sure he could practice what he was going to say.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He checked his phone, noticing you were an hour late without so much as a text.

‘I am Emmet. I'm here.’

‘Are you okay?’

Still nothing, he sat there for hours, waiting for you, constantly looking out the window, hoping he’d see you running up and apologizing for being late.

He’d look up the second the bell chimes, only to be disappointed when it’s not you.

‘Everything okay?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Where are you?’

Every message he sent you never saw, but it says it went through. He could feel his anxiety growing worse by the second, so he called you.

It goes right to voicemail.

He can’t stand it anymore.

He stayed there for nearly five hours, and you didn’t show up.

You must hate him.

He went back home, knowing Ingo would already be back from work, but yet… it was quiet.

His life was changed in only a day, as two missing persons reports went out, one for you, and one for Ingo. What Emmet wants to tell changes The longer you’re gone.

Ingo is found many months later in strange clothes, and no memory, but his brother is here and alive. All that’s left is you. Emmet focused on work and helping his brother, being more than happy he finally came home. But the emotional part of him asks, why does Ingo get to have more stories of you, than him?

News of your return is the talk of Unova, how you appeared limp on the ground in ancient clothes and scars. He figured you’d be in the hospital for a while, given how the news spoke of your injuries. He’s already waited a year for you, what’s a few more days?

Imagine his shock when he opens the door on his day off, and you’re standing right there, covered in bandages when you should be resting.

But given your history, he isn’t even sure what to do.

“You’re…you’re back.” Despite the lack of emotion in his voice, you can hear the quiver in it.

“Emmet-“

“I waited, you know, I sat there at the café and waited. Where were you?” His vision clouds with tears.

You can’t give him an answer, cause even you don’t know who would believe you.

“I still waited, hoping you’d come back like it’s all a sick joke.”

“Em, can we please go inside? I can explain everything.” You step forward, wiping the tears that fall from his cheeks.

He doesn’t move, only leaning into your touch as he sobs.

“I hate you, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn you are! Hate how you just think you can come back as if nothing happened! Hate how you made me worry! I hate that I love you, and you left! H-how could you?”

You pull him into a hug, letting the smiling man hold you tightly as he cries into your shoulder. You can’t stop tears of your own from soaking into his shirt, you both sob your hearts out, clinging to each other as if the other would disappear again.

“I don’t hate you…I can’t.”

“I know. I missed you so much, I was so scared.”

You both stayed there for several more minutes until you two had the strength to stand. He pulls you into his home, closing the door behind you.

“Now, let’s hear those stories!”

You chuckle softly, “Oh boy, do I have a lot.”

Despite everything.

You squeeze his hand.

This might be the start of something wonderful.

May the Force be with you

HAPPY STAR WARS DAY May the Force be with you, always.

The perfect movie scene doesn’t exi-

-the music timing, mr darcys acting, the tva man’s face.

Perfection 😘

(Sadly I couldn’t download any none bleeped ones)

18+ DOM DEADPOOL X M!READER

Thinking about WADE WILSON trapping you in his grasp, his masked chin perched on your shoulder and his blood-tinted leather glove shoved in-between your thighs. He reeks of impending doom, the scent combining with his natural aroma.

“Oh, no, no, don’t run from it, pretty boy.” WADE clicks his tongue, shaking his head as you squirm. His arm snaking around your waist tightened its grip, clutching you firmly against his front.

He sneaks his hand beneath your pants, wrapping it around the base of your hard cock before freeing it from your boxers. But he doesn’t allow the cool air to hit your sensitive hardness, choosing to toy with you by keeping it hidden under your shirt. You grunt, reaching to hold onto his knees. “W—wade.” You croak, trying not to buck your hips up.

WADE hums curiously, indicating that he was listening. With one finger, he maps out the silhouette of your length through the soft material. He’s enjoying this, and that fact is one he isn’t afraid to admit. “Hmm? D’ya want somethin’, baby?”

Despite his question, he doesn’t quite let you answer. Suddenly, his thumb presses down against the side of your tip, staring in great awe at how pre-cum begins to dampen the fabric. Your dick twitches from the stimulation, and you can’t prevent the plea from leaving you. “Stop teasin’ me, please.”

You can nearly feel his lips stretch upwards into a cocky grin. His palm rests flat on your length, gently rubbing up and down. Every time WADE’S finger went to messily massage your frenulum, your shirt would press into your skin and increase your responsiveness, making you uncontrollably throb. “Awww, we both know you don’t mean that. Our buddy over here likes it.” He teases, shifting to properly but lazily jerk you off.

His hand clenches when it curls ‘round your shaft, balancing you on the point of experiencing a high but never enough for you to actually reach it. WADE WILSON knows you can handle a tad of edging. “Be a good boy, c’mon that’s it, just a liiiiiiil’ bit more.”

Void Runners Pt. 3

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.

artwork by @eu--lalia

Imagine leaving Higuruma a bouquet of sunflowers on his desk on Valentine's day.

He'll quickly deduce that whoever left them was making a play on his name and his career as a lawyer. So it's someone he knows.

Although he'd prefer roses if someone was leaving him flowers, he's flattered nonetheless that there's a person believing he's bouquet worthy.

The little card that came with them says 'To balance out your gloominess'.

He'll chuckle to himself 'Gloomy? I'm not gloomy. Broody perhaps.'

The rest of his day is spent trying to figure out who sent them, and he'll have a goofy grin on his face whenever he glances at them. He'll try his best to draw attention to them every time someone comes in the room, like he's not so discreetly saying 'someone sent me a Valentine's bouquet!'

"Pretty bouquet." You comment as you walk in to hand him a report.

"Oh, noticed them did you? Looks like I'm popular around here," he'll drawl, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

"Or it could mean someone doesn't want to look at you again."

His smugness fades. "What do you mean?"

"Oh cmon, you know the old Greek tale? Apollo turned his lover Clytie into a sunflower so that he'd never have to look at her face again after she betrayed him to a sea nymph."

His cheer immediately drops and you feel bad for him. "But I doubt that. Very few people know that fact. I'm sure whoever sent them intends to see your face again. Perhaps the next day morning."

"Next day morning?" he sounds confused.

You nod your head. "Yeah. Sunflowers need to be plucked in the early morning otherwise they wilt. So maybe whoever sent them was hoping they'd see your face the next morning after you've... Wilted."

You give him a playful smirk and walk out.

"Wilted...? What...?"

It takes a few seconds before the cogs in his brain start work.

"Hold on now y/n!"

He scrambles out of the office behind you.

Sunflower divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doin’ out??” Another.

“Get back inside!!”

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

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

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

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

 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

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

Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or they got eaten by a dragon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you just pointed to all of me?”

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

“Oooh…”

“Ooooh, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!” One yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Except… for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry… dad..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”

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

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

“Sure you did.”

“He never listens.”

“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put them in training like the others.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

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

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

“I do, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”

“Oh here we go.” 

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

Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”

“You got a headache.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”

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

Both of you took deep breaths.

“I've decided I don't want-”

“I've decided it's time you learn-”

“To fight dragons. What??”

Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”

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

“But you will kill dragons.”

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

“It's time Y/n.”

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

“This is serious, y/n.”

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

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

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

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

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.

“Deal…”

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

“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here… maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if he would have to force the mark. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Hideous Zippleback!”

“Plus eleven stealth times two.”

“The Monstrous Nightmare!”

“Firepower: fifteen.”

“The Terrible Terror!” 

“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.

“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.

“What…??”

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

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

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

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

Pussy.

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

“No, six!” Gaz counters. 

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

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

“Gaz, you're out!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.

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

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

Gobber drags the dragon back away.

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

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

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

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

“So… why didn't you??” 

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

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

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

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

The dragon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 

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

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

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

It whines, still hungry.

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”

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

“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.

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

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

“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!” 

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

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

“Ooh,” Soap teases. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking it off, Toothless purred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wouldn't be on his own…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Yes! I did it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”

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

“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.

“Now y/n!” Gobber said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Putting together a saddle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh. Odd. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next day, back in training. 

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

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

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

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

The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.

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

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

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

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

“Meet the Terrible Terror.”

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

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

“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck!

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh brother…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Their gone??” Stoick asked.

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

“Y/n??”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tail was holding up so far.

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

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

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

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

“Stop!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 

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

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

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

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

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

Silco's Enforcer Child

...

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.

...

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ANAKIN / VADER - AHSOKA 1x05 THE SHADOW WARRIOR

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"Come here, pretty boy!"

Mihawk stops, turning at the sound of your voice floating through the open door of one the rooms. Were you talking to him? Terms of endearment aren't entirely new between the two of you, but pretty boy is entirely new.

Curious, he strides towards the door, intent on seeing what you need ㅡ and freezing when he finds that your attention is on that damn feline.

Eyes narrowing, Mihawk slips away quietly, leaving you oblivious to his presence. He knows he wouldn't be jealous of Kurai, swears that he isn't ㅡ but what has that creature done to deserve such sweet names from you?

Though he most definitely is not sulking, he dwells on it until after dinner when he looks up from his book to look at where you're curled up with your own propped open in your lap, one hand on the book and the other on Kurai.

"Darling," he begins, waiting until you look up. "I overheard you talking to..." He falters, eyes narrowing on the pleased cat next to you, "Kurai earlier, and you called him 'pretty boy'."

You blink. "I did," you answer, "because he is my pretty boy." You scratch under Kurai's chin.

"I see." He pauses, debating. "....am I not also your pretty boy?"

Your head tilts, brow furrowing. "Of course you are. What is this about?" You glance at Kurai, then back at Mihawk. "Are you jealous of the cat?"

He glares. "No. Jealousy of a creature like that is beneath me."

You nod, amused and wholly unconvinced as you return your attention to your book. "Whatever you say," you intone with a smirk, "pretty boy."

Mihawk scoffs, returning to his own book and sneaking glances at you when you don't notice, all but glaring at the cat.

Okay, so maybe he's a little jealous.