#if anything we need to talk about Astrid’s anger because some shit she gets away with just shouldnt fly.

[eemoo1o-tfrmoo]

I don’t like the episode Snotlout’s Angels purely because we go from Astrid “being Astrid” and ready to bludgeon Snotlout from him saying something to her during an argument from him taking her axe, which is one thing, to making the moral about Snotlout being boarheaded about women? When he’s never really shown that much level misogyny before, just a bit of a douchey flirting streak (aimed solely at women because of Haze laws… or character analysis). He’s a boarhead to everyone, he’s Snotlout, I don’t get why they had to do this.

#they even point this out in the episode! from snotlout himself! what the fuck? #httyd #race to the edge #snotlout jorgenson #episode observations #snotlout’s angels #the winged maidens #original post #if anything we need to talk about Astrid’s anger because some shit she gets away with just shouldnt fly.

[cadaceus]

C2E141

One last time, y’all. This campaign and these characters have meant so much to me, and this seven hour finale was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. (Yes, I shed actual tears at one point, which rarely happens to me with media. But this is a special occasion.) These liveblogs are nearly as long as the episode itself, so grab a snack! With that being said, here are my very last liveblogs for Campaign 2 of Critical Role. As always, major spoilers below, so beware. 

- Veth taking a level in Wizard, god I am really gonna cry ten minutes into this thing...  😭

- We got our first “stay with us” to Essek, I am emo...

- I was fully not expecting to say goodbye to Frumpkin, but now I’m on the verge of tears... farewell dear fey friend (Marisha saying “that wasn’t supposed to be what broke me” me too me too)

- “You’re a good person.” “I could be.” “You are.”

- “I think you’re a good person” I never thought that I’d hear Beau say that about Essek and this genuinely might be what breaks me... she thinks he’s a good person.... redemption is possible.... maybe love is real....

- If I end up crying over wizards, look away

- Jester lifting up Fjord’s arm to snuggle beneath it made me say “awww” out loud  🥺

- VETH GOING FOR A DIP IN THE POND, I AM GENUINELY SO PROUD OF HER

- “Aahhh!! It’s me! Your wife!” I am going to miss Jester’s sending so much

- Okay that accent bit was so funny, I am going to miss all of them so much

- REAL MOLLY IS BACK REAL MOLLY IS BACK REAL MOLLY IS BACK

- Oh but he doesn’t remember them... and Yasha is trying so hard to help him remember, it’s so so sweet 

- Something about the way he said “Tealeaf’s nice” made me tear up... I was neutral on Mollymauk early campaign because I went into things knowing that he passed away, but this whole conversation with the Mighty Nein is So Much. Also “Kingsley Tealeaf” 

- “Everyone should have a brother” as someone with three of them, I vouch for this  🥺

- a) I love Marion Lavorre (and Jester ofc!) so very much and b) I can’t believe that Jester’s parent trap actually worked??

- “I do not think Exandria is ready for how you’re going to change it” got to me... and it’s also so true. jester has already changed the world just by being kind.

- Good bye Marion... I love and will miss you so much! (And many thanks to Laura and Matt for creating an agoraphic single mother who raised a wonderful child <3)

- Beau and Jester teasing Marion for having a complicated relationship with Babenon reminds me of Caleb saying he has a complicated relationship with Essek...

- LEAVE CALEB ALON E FUOIKJLKGKNL 

- THIS IS ....... SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE.

- Caleb’s biggest trauma(s) coming back to haunt him, I am genuinely going to cry I’m not ready for this I’m not okay

- Beau saying to Jester “Thanks, cutie” I love themmmmm

- INITIATIVE AAGJASKHDKJ AAAAAHHHH

- Essek’s Gravity Sinkhole did nothing? uhhhhh Mr Stark...

- EADWULF???? HELLO?????

- Essek using his entire turn to save Caleb last battle 🤝 Caleb using his entire turn to save Essek this battle

- ASTRID???? I TRUSTED YOU??? WE ALL TRUSTED YOU????

- Another Counterspell chain sdfdghjkdl wizards !!!

- “It’s just business” is literally the Neutral Evil line, it always gives me chills when any character says it

- This hurts more after Liam confirming on Twitter that Astrid/Caleb/Eadwulf were all three a romantic item... please stop hurting Caleb, you loved him  😭

- THE FJORD VS EADWULF SWORD FIGHT IS SO CINEMATIC I LOVE IT HERE ACTUALLY

- Essek taking every opportunity to pull Caleb to safety makes me so emotional...  😭

- “You’re not the first student I’ve had to put down” I am burning with my anger for you, old man 

- THE DISPEL WORKED LET’S GO CALEB.....

- Remember when Matt said that Essek doesn’t openly show concern/emotion? And now he’s saying “I’m scared” in front of his closest friends and his worst enemies.... growth my love.....

- BEAU AND VETH LETS GO CHAOS CREW LETS MF GO BABEYYYY!!!

- FJORD COUNTERSPELLING THE DIMENSION DOOR..... and Matt having him describe it.... is this taking the place of a “HDYWTDT” *eyes emoji*

- CALEB GOING DOWN NO, THANK GOD FOR THAT DEATH WARD

- Veth’s illusion of Caleb’s parents flanking Caleb in the flames.... that got me too, Liam

- “Stay down.” yeah, okay, that was sexy

- ASTRID BEING THE ONE TO ACTIVATE THE COLLAR IS LITERALLY POETIC JUSTICE... Trent being beaten by the student who stuck with him longest I love this so much, she deserved that moment honestly

- Break Time, AKA Emma Makes Her Weekly Mug Brownie Interlude

- Sometimes I feel like “death is too good for you” is a copout, but in this case it fits so well, I want this mf’s reputation destroyed and the entire operation exposed and overthrown let’s goooo

- “I loved you both so much”.... Astrid and Eadwulf walking away.... oh, Blumendrei... I know this is not the end of your story. What’s past is prologue, loves

- The Empire Siblings are gonna burn down the whole system because it’s the system that enables individual corruption... I am so fulfilled by this, god i love them

- “I love you too” OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, FJORESTER ARE THE CUTEST FOR REAL

- Jester and Essek’s friendship still means so much to me btw just in case anyone wanted a check-in

- Veth giving the flask to Kingsley!! Good for her, good for her!

- OH Blumenduo are back already! I truly thought that was going to be their last appearance of the Campaign, why is this taking me more by surprise than Trent’s appearance

- “[Caleb] notes how similar Eadwulf and Fjord are” this is Widofjord adjacent... this episode we have gotten Widomauk-adjacent, Widojest-adjacent, and Widofjord-adjacent (and Blumentrio ofc), now come through Shadowgast and we can get a full Bingo on the “Bisexual Maelstrom” card

- Speaking of relationships, I am lowkey into the Fjord/Jester/Kingsley dynamic LOL no one look at me I’m in hiding

- I’M NOT READY TO SAY GOODBYE TO VETH AND CAD 😭 It makes sense and the fact that they have their families back is beautiful but also consider this: I’m sad and I will miss them 

- The goodbyes to Caduceus..... I am going to cry aren’t I?

- “If he’s anything like his mom, you won’t see him until it’s too late” Okay that made me giggle, I love Veth and I love Luc and I love their little family

- IS ESSEK LEAVING TOO? THAT’S GONNA BE WHAT BREAKS ME ISN’T IT

- If Essek leaves and we never see him again, getting a triple whammy of goodbyes I will be so incredibly sad, I cannot do this  😭

- If anyone is interested, no I am not doing well

- I was lowkey ready to get an Essek’s feelings for Caleb confirmation tonight, I guess it makes sense that we didn’t but I hope that this is not the last time we see Essek... I want to write another emo post about him and about how much he means to me but I will refrain

- CALEB BEING A TEACHER IS THE ENDGAME I WANT FOR HIM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

- Wow, I really was not ready to see Caduceus and Essek go for some reason... I really wanted this Campaign to end on the image of the Mighty Nein together as all nine of them... I’m feeling so numb right now having to say goodbye  😭

- Oh, we’re in the epilogue now!

- When Fjord said “[the sea] is my favorite place to be” I genuinely felt that on a spiritual level... the ocean is home, it truly is and always will be for me as well

- “I CAST MODIFY MEMORY” FJORD LMAOOOOOOO

- Okay, that Widobrave ending is what made me shed tears for the first time this episode... not to be Personal but my biological brother graduates High School tomorrow, and for some reason this conversation just reminded me so much of me and him and now I’m emotional

- NOT THE SYPHILIS BANDITS DSYUHDFJKLSFJ;DS OKAY I NEEDED THAT LAUGH

- “I’d like to hear about your friend” Kingsley aww

- Beau giving Kingsley her first diary to help him realize who they all are is actually so perfectly fitting, I love that!

- “The other eight and I, yes” Caleb counting all nine of them again  😭

- CALEB BEING OFFERED AN ASSEMBLY SEAT WTF AAAHHH

- Oh shit, Astrid took the Assembly seat... I’m not sure how I feel about this, I feel so bad for her for having to stay in the system that abused her for so long and I would have loved to see her burn the whole thing down, but I hope that she at least has a sense of contentment with this title

- “I go where you go, baby” Beauyasha.... my darling loves....

- Beau’s dad??? But also Beau being the one with power over her father is so Good, I’m glad that she got justice on that front as well!

- This talk with Artagan... “I didn’t want you to be a god. I wanted you to be my friend.” and in the process my love you created divinity... maybe divinity is the friends we made along the way

- OH SHIT WE ARE GETTING ALL THE VANDRAN LORE TONIGHT I’M READY LET’S GO LET’S GO

- VANDRAN AND AVANTIKA WERE AN ITEM???

- Wait crack theory: Sabian was a half elf right? Could he be the son of Vandren and Avantika? Or is that too much of a stretch? 

- Vandran going with them!!! Also I feel like that moment between Fjord and Vandran was lowkey a tease to a post-campain Uk’otoa one shot and I am ready for it already 

- THIS BEAUYASHA MOMENT... “i’ve never known anyone as deeply as i know you” & “explore every bit of you in multiple ways ;)” & “your past doesn’t scare me, it only makes you beautiful” .... this is so much they are so much i love them so much

- “I will have you and then some” Beauyasha   😭

- I’m torn between “oh my god there’s still half an hour left?” and “how is there only half an hour left??”

- “You will let this Skyspear live at least?” oh my god so Yasha killed the last Skyspear then? Oof...

- YASHA GIVING ZUALA(’S GRAVE) THE BOOK OF FLOWERS, OH DEAR HEART

- And Beau’s talk to Zuala about being the luckiest woman alive and sacrifice.... 😭  

- PLANTING FLOWERS AT ZUALA’S GRAVE... “NO BETTER GRAVE MARKER” THIS IS MAKING ME SO EMOTIONAL, I KNOW I’VE SAID THIS A LOT THIS EPISODE BUT THIS TRULY IS SO BEAUTIFUL

- So... I may or may not be crying again

- Shadowgast with a steel chair??

- Caleb’s plan for saving his parents... it’s clear he has thought of this so much, oh my darling love  😭

- Caleb burning down his chance to change his past is so symbolic and something he really needed to do, it does make me emotional though

- The other book was him writing to his parents?? Oh bby boy  😭  

- While I would have loved for Caleb to open his own magic school (especially with Essek, or the Mighty Nein, or someone else as well), I am so pleased that he stays with Veth and that their friendship continues for the rest of their life because again: they mean so so much to me, and in a way they remind me of me and my biological brother (which I never realized before this episode) and yeah. They just make me Emo

- Also. Caleb being a professor was my Number One Endgame Hope for him and the fact that it came true is just so surreal in the best way possible. I’m so used to being robbed of happy endings. The fact that the Mighty Nein all got theirs makes me incredibly happy. A story does not have to be sad to be impactful. Happy stories and happy endings, especially during a time period of tumultuous real life circumstances, have just as much value and meaning and they always will. Caleb is teaching the next generation magic, and he is teaching them to be Good, and he is nurturing them, and that just means so much

- MATT CRYING IS GONNA GET TO ME

- “Let’s do it again” Please, let’s.

- Okay, everyone. I made it all seven hours in one piece with surprisingly minimal tears (though who knows, this might all sink in tomorrow.) I already wrote my thoughts earlier today about how much the Mighty Nein mean to me and how much this show and these characters have kept me holding on during quarantine and today... I’m still not ready to let them go, but I know that I can always revisit to say hello and to say thank you for changing me. Until then though... I love you all more than you could ever know. And for the last time of Campaign 2... is it Thursday yet?

Good night 💗

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c2e141 #critical role #my liveblogs #cr2 #i genuinely can't believe this is the end y'all... what a journey. what a freaking journey 💗 #to anyone who has ever interacted with even one of my liveblogs: i love you and i think about you every damn day dfghjkflf #it makes me Emo knowing that i'm not just speaking to the void and that there are ppl out there listening etc #also this liveblog was TWO THOUSAND WORDS LONG i checked it in a google doc sgdhjkdl #so if you made it through all that you may be entitled to financial compensation #but in all seriousness: i love you mighty nein. and thank you for everything. #is it thursday yet? #queue #(i always queue these for the mornings dgfhjk!) #and yes i WILL be liveblogging campaign 3 #also mayhaps this hiatus will be time for me to catch up with vox machina?

[silverlysilence]

Taliesin’s Apothecary and Bookery (Part III)

I Don’t Mean to Lie, But This Will Be Four or Five Parts

Hiccup breathed heavy, spent but sated.  He was content to enjoy the moment.  Allowing the bliss to linger as he hugged the heated body closer.  Delicate fingers idlily tracing random patterns against his bare chest.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?” Hiccup asked, green eyes staring up at the ceiling fan doing little to cool down their overheated bodies.

The finger on his chest paused before waves of golden hair pooled on either side of his head as soft lips pressed against his.  The lips lingered, nipping at his upper lip before pulling away, Hiccup tried to chase after them but deceptively strong hands pressed him back on to the bed.

“Can’t a girl just blow off some steam?” Astrid asked, straddling his hips.  Naked flesh rubbing against naked flesh and he couldn’t hold back a groan as his body automatically responded.

“Astrid,” the auburn-haired man groaned as the woman deliberately squirmed on top of him in the way she knew drove him made.  The blonde was a minx and knew how to play him like a fiddle.  Not surprising seeing how they’d growing up together, fought side by side, and died together.  Multiple times in fact.  It meant she knew him too well, but he knew her just as well.  So despite his flesh being willing, he grabbed her hips and held her still.  “Astrid, you know I love you, and I know you know you I can tell when somethings bothering you.  So, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?  You don’t get like this unless someone has upset you.  Do I have to kick some asshole’s ass?  Not that you couldn’t do it better yourself, but the offers there.”  

“Awe, you say the sweetest of things,” Astrid grinned, leaning over to peak him on the lips once more before rolling off him to lay by his side.  Turning his head to glance into hazed blue orbs, Hiccup waited, knowing the blonde was gathering her thoughts.  Thinking before she spoke.  He needn’t wait look.  “I ran into Eret, he’s the UPS delivery guy at the office.”

Hiccup’s immediate reaction was to be excited for her.  They hadn’t been able to find Eret in any of their last few reincarnation cycles, try as they like.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been reincarnated, they’d found evidence to the fact, pictures, news articles, obituaries, they just missed him, sometimes by mere hours.  He knew those instances hurt Astrid the most, the budding hope at finally being reunited with her partner only to arrive too late.  Those were the times where the two of them would marry, because society demanded it of them and neither one of them wanted to be alone.  Though, they both knew if Eret turned up, Hiccup would find himself a divorcee.  Which didn’t explain why Astrid was with him instead of Eret.

“He didn’t recognize me.”

Hiccup gave her a weak smile.  “Well, it has been a few cycles since you last meet, I’m sure with a little time he’ll start to come around.  Just talk with him and I’m sure he’ll begin to remember.  It’s not that odd, Fishlegs didn’t start getting his memories back until nearly two months after we first met up this time and we still haven’t met the twins yet.  I’m sure it will work out.”

“Hiccup, I’ve tried.  This isn’t the first time we’ve seen each other,” sharp nails dug into the sheets as Astrid drew the covers tighter around her.  “He’s been the office’s delivery guy for the last six months.  He asked Nyx out for drinks this evening while I was standing right there.  He…he isn’t remembering.”  

The auburn-haired man opened his mouth before closing it, having no words to comfort her.  Eret wouldn’t be the first to not remember. Snotlout had been the first to stopped remembering around five cycles ago.  He hadn’t been reincarnated since.  Heather hadn’t taken it well and the next time, she too hadn’t remembered and when she closed her eyes in that life, it was for the final time. It hurt, losing the two, but this was different.  This was Astrid’s partner.  If Eret died not remembering, Hiccup didn’t know how Astrid would continue without the hope of meeting him again.

Knowing there were no words he could say to sooth her tormented soul, the auburn-hair man chose to pull her into a much-needed hug.  She readily returned the embraced and the two just laid there for some time, letting the silence stretch between them.  Hiccup almost dozed off but Astrid’s softly mumbled question him kept him from reaching the land of dreams.

“Do…do you miss—”

“I’m back!” the sound of the fount door opening had Astrid shooting up.  

“Shit!  My roommates, back.  She’s never back this early on a Thursday night,” hastily, she scrambled out of bed, sifting through their discarded clothes and throwing them at him while she pulled on her jeans.  “You gotta go! Come on, get dress.  Move…move…out you go.”

“Hey Astrid, I got us some sushi from the place you like,” the call echoed through the apartment followed by movement in the kitchen.

“She’s back?  Hasn’t—” Hiccup hissed, too busy tugging on his pants that ended up tripping when Astrid threw the red shirt he’d been wearing at his face.  The resounding thump did not go unheard.

“Astrid, you okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the blonde called out, searching for her blouse she’d been wearing and when she couldn’t find that, pulled on an overly large shirt and slipped out the door.  Hiccup could hear the two talking as Astrid bought him time to get his stuff together and hopefully slip out without being noticed.

“You won’t believe who I saw there—you!”

He didn’t make it.

“What are you doing here, Haddock?” Hiccup winced, having rounded the corner just in time to come face to face with Astrid’s roommate.

“Hi —” the man gave the glaring raven-haired woman a little wave that only earned him a scowl.  “Heather?”

She didn’t seem to care for what he had to say and rounded on Astrid who still wasn’t recognizing who was standing before her.  “What is he doing here?  I thought we had a deal; I don’t bring my brother over and you don’t bring him over without talking with each other first.”

“Heather, it was a spur of the moment thing.  You’re never here on Thursday nights, I didn’t think you would mind if he left by the time you got back.”

“Well, that didn’t happen.”

“Come on, Heather, don’t be like that.  Hiccup’s a good guy, if you just took the time to get to know him.”

“I already know all I need to know about him,” Heather’s confession had Astrid opening her mouth only for it to slam shut as her eyes widened in recognition.

Hiccup stalled there.  “Wait, Heather, do you remember?  How are you even here?  We thought you were gone.”

“What’s it to you, Haddock?” the sharpness of her words had Hiccup reeling.

Astrid took a step forward, really looking at her friend—her best friend she hadn’t seen in too many lifetimes—for the first time. “If you remember, why haven’t you said anything?”

“Why should I?  I want nothing to do with him.  Not after what he”—a finger was jabbed in Hiccup’s direction— “did to Jack.”

Astrid bristled.  “Hiccup hasn’t done anything to Jack.  He hasn’t shown his face to any of us in several cycles.”

“And do you know why we haven’t seen him?” Heather shot back. “Go on, Haddock, tell her why Jack hasn’t come looking for us.”

“Heather,”

“Tell her, Haddock or I will.”

“I don’t know what you think you remember, but I’m sure if we sit down and talk it out, we can find where the strings have crossed,” Hiccup tried to coax the two shieldmaidens down.

“Snotlout was there!  He saw everything!”

“I don’t’ know what Snotlout think he saw before died...”

“He didn’t die, he was turned to stone, there’s a difference.  The spell—”

“—That Jack casted!” Hiccup roared, slamming his fist into the wall.  “You want me to tell you what happened that night? Fine!  I’ll tell you!  Jack turned on us, he showed his true colors and fought alongside Grimmel, he fought against us.  He managed to hit Snotlout with his spell, I was lucky to get away. Wasn’t lucky enough to get away from Grimmel’s little Deathgrippers though.  They poisoned me.  That’s how I died.”

“Fuck you Haddock.  Snotlout could see everything, but you wouldn’t know that would you?  He tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen.  That spell was to save your fucking life.  If you hadn’t of dodged, the Deathgripper’s strike would have struck stone, not skin.”

“How would you know that anyways?  Snotlout hasn’t been reincarnated since then. He’s dead!” Hiccup shot back, his anger clearly rising at the mention of his cousin.  A cousin he hadn’t had since that fateful cycle.

“Oh really?” Heather pulled out her phone and it play on a voicemail.  The speakers blared as a voice that shouldn’t have been there came out of the little piece of technology.

“Hey babe, sorry I can't make it to our Thursday Night Date Night, but something came up.  I’ll make it up to you later.  I swear or my name isn’t Snotlout...well, technically, it isn’t this time around but I’m not going by Samuel.  Who in their right mind would go with the name Samuel when Snotlout is clearly superior in everyway?  Love ya Babe.”

Heather shot a sneer towards Hiccup. “Yeah, dead.  Though I can assure you, my respected for you is definitely deader than Snotlout after what you did to Jack. You told him you wished you never met a demon like him, that he was the reason we were cursed.  News flash, Haddock, he didn’t.  You did! You and your shoddy Bidding Spell.  You bound him to you and those closest to you—to Jack—were drawn into the spell because you didn’t close it.  But by denouncing him, you broke the spell.  Let eons worth of accumulated magic free with no thought of the consequences, the backlash should have eradicated our souls from existence.  Do you understand how much you fucked up?  Jack, after everything you said to him, everything you did, took that burden on himself.  It nearly killed him.”

“Good.”

“You would sentence him to Hell?”

“It’s where a demon like him belongs.  He turned on us.  He fought at Grimmel’s side.”

“God do you even hear yourself?  Yeah, Jack isn’t a demon!  He’s a cambion.”

“The Offspring of the Daughter of Man and the Son of the Fallen, yeah I know.  He told me so himself, right before he brought my father back to life.”

“Really, you know?  So you also know that cambions don’t have the power to bring back the dead?  Those that do, the necromancers, are forever stained by the dark magic and I’ve been around Jack enough to know he doesn’t have such a stain.  He didn’t bring back your father, Haddock.  He made a deal.  In the time it took for him to snap his fingers and return you to Berk, he’d spent a year on the outskirts of Hell trying to get someone to raise the dead for you.  He managed, but he would owe a boon to the demon who agreed.

“He owed a boon to Grimmel, for you.  That night, Grimmel called on the boon and Jack couldn’t refuse.  Yes, he fought by Grimmel’s side, but not against us. He did everything he could to keep us alive and kept your father’s soul safe.”

“Excuse me, what does my father have to do with it?”

“Because it was your father’s soul that Jack bargained for and if he reneged on the deal, then Stoick soul would be forfeit to Grimmel for all eternity.

“If that’s true, why didn’t he say anything?”

“Because, he tried, Snotlout tired.  You just wouldn’t listen.  You called him your curse.”

#Taliesin's Apothecary &amp; Bookery #Hiccup Haddock #Jack Frost #HiJack #FanFic #SilverlySilence's Fanfics

[tysonrunningfox]

Toothless: Return to the Black Pony of Second Chances: Part 4

No one cares if fanfictions have equal length chapters (that’s my mantra) no one cares if fanfictions have equal length chapters (it’s still 3300 words) 

Ao3

The first time I saw Stormfly, she had a blue bow around her neck and was eating my mother’s marigolds.  Half the planter box was mowed flat in the time it took my Uncle Finn to come inside and get me, but I didn’t stay to hear the resulting argument.  I was up in the shiny new saddle and down the driveway before the ‘thank you, Uncle Finn, I love you so much” was done echoing off of the covered porch roof. 

And yes, Stormfly was a little rough around the edges.  She still is, these days, spending so much time checking fences and begging treats off of people, but she’d never…oh, I don’t know, break down a fence at someone’s horse farm and lure their prize herd out the morning the bank was coming to appraise assets. 

“What’s wrong with its leg?”  Hiccup asks, pressing his face to the stall bars, stupid ripped jeans covered in driveway gravel dust. 

“It’s infected,” I answer, taking a step closer to the stall to gesture at the obvious swelling on the horse’s back, left haunch, but pausing when he starts to rear again, staggering sideways against the wall. 

Hiccup glares at me.  Something resembling fierce for a second instead of the petulant expression I hate that I’ve almost gotten used to in the last couple of hours.  I also hate that he thinks he’s some kind of protector to this dangerous horse just because it liked him for a fluke second, and I cross my arms, daring him to keep up the expression, but Mr. Haddock enters the barn and I take a step back. 

“The vet’s almost here,” Mr. Haddock says comfortingly, rolling his eyes when the little black horse tosses his head, red-rimmed eyes wild, spit frothing from his lips. 

“Is the vet going to help it?”  Hiccup asks, a little too eager, boyish under all that sarcasm and I can’t help but wonder how Ruffnut sees him as the same age as we are. 

Then again, Ruffnut seems young too, her farm’s loss rolling off her back instead of sticking like mine has. 

“Hiccup,” Mr. Haddock’s gentle tone is lost on his son, who’s angry again, a flippant, disrespectful kind of angry that I don’t know how to tolerate.  “He didn’t sell at auction, he won’t let anyone near him, he’s a danger to the other horses and now, to people.” 

I know that Snotlout ate shit chasing the horse and scraped up his elbow, and usually I wouldn’t consider that human harm, but anytime that a horse gets out it’s dangerous.  Especially a horse who won’t be caught.  Especially a horse who’s torn down fences in the past. 

“So what?  You’re just going to get rid of it?  Of him?”  Hiccup swallows, gawky Adam’s apple bobbing, and I should go bring the groceries in.  I should let them yell without an audience, no matter how much I want to tell Hiccup how inappropriate it is to yell at his father. 

Of course, he wouldn’t understand.  Maybe he was born here, but he’s obviously a city boy now.  Sometimes, animals die.  It’s hard, it’s always hard.  It’s hard enough at the right season, loading a herd into a trailer and knowing where they’re going, and it’s worse when it’s an injury or an illness. 

But it happens.  And it’s one of a rancher’s most important jobs to face the problem head on, with empathy and dignity in mind. 

“What’s my choice here, son?”  Mr. Haddock’s frustration shows in his posture even as his voice stays even.  “The animal is in pain, he’s not going to get any better without medical care.  It’s been a month now and he’s only getting worse—”

“Because no one’s been taking care of him.”  Hiccup raises his voice but the little black horse doesn’t react with any of its usual anger, instead taking him in with wide eyes, sweaty chest heaving a little more evenly. 

“He won’t let anyone near him,” I try to hold my hand out towards the stall door and the horse tosses his head again, pawing at the ground with a clumsy front hoof. 

“I caught him just fine,” Hiccup snaps at the world at large and a horse down the stall row stomps and stirs at the loud interruption. 

“The way I see it, son, and I’ve been around horses longer than you’ve been alive—”

“You’re old, ok, what does that have to do with this horse right now?”  Hiccup points into the stall, rude and belligerent and stupid, if he doesn’t know the answer to that question. 

I don’t think that’s true, I think he wants his dad to say it out loud so that he has a reason to shame him, and the thought makes me sick.  After everything Mr. Haddock has done for all of us, to make him feel guilty about not being able to save the little reject mustang that no one wants is…I almost turn and leave, but it feels like part of my responsibility to witness. 

“It’s a kindness, Hiccup.”  Mr. Haddock has more patience than I ever will, “to do this quickly, inside where he can be comfortable—”

“Instead of trying to help him?”  Hiccup’s voice cracks. 

“Look at that wound, Hiccup.  He’ll probably be lame—”

“Oh.  So, it’s not worth doing then.  Ok,” he barks back flatly, sarcasm a veil over the words, “I get it.” 

“That’s not—”  Mr. Haddock sighs, and I’ve never heard him think about backtracking before so it takes me a second to recognize the pause for what it is, especially as it’s interrupted by tires on the gravel driveway.  The vet, surely, we aren’t expecting anyone else.  “Your mother and I thought coming here would help you learn some responsibility—”

“By watching horses die because a leg injury means there’s something irreparably wrong with them,” Hiccup rolls his eyes, flippant anger simmering under the words, “are you getting parenting advice from Old Yeller again?” 

“If the horse means so much to you,” Mr. Haddock’s vast store of patience runs out and his booming voice quiets all of the stalls but one, where the little black horse stomps and snorts, “then you take care of it.  Talk to the vet, find the money for what he needs, and nurse him back to health.” 

“I don’t know anything about horses—”

“You should have considered that before you started this argument, young man.” 

I wish I’d left.  Really, I do.  I wish I were cleaning the chicken coop or checking the cows or hell, watching Snotlout talk ad nauseum about proper bull riding technique, because any of those things would be better than standing here watching this. 

“I don’t have any money,” Hiccup continues in a small voice, hands in his hoodie pockets, “can I get a loan.” 

“Loans get paid back, son.  With interest.” 

“I’ll do that,” he insists, “and if it doesn’t work—just let me try, Dad.”  The title comes out in a different tone, an earnest one, and I take the chance to leave, striding out of the barn and greeting Dr. Goethi on the way back to the house. 

Snotlout is sitting on the patio railing, nursing his scraped-up elbow, “has anyone dealt with that thing yet?” 

“Your lack of balance and inability to chase something without tripping over your own feet?”  I quip back without thinking, trying to think about dinner as I open the screen door and slip inside.

“Lack of balance?”  Snotlout follows, “come on, Astrid, usually when you’re mean you don’t stoop to being stupid—”

“What’s going on?”  Ruffnut looks up from the potatoes she’s been lackadaisically peeling, “how’d it go?” 

“The vet’s with them now,” I let myself sit, probably for the first time since the sun came up, unless I was driving, and it makes me even more tired.  “I should go get the groceries out of the truck.” 

“I’ll help,” Ruffnut offers, selfless like she only is when she needs something, and as soon as we’re back outside, she’s peppering me with questions, “what did you guys talk about?  Did he remember you pulling his hair?” 

“What are you talking about?”  I’d hand the box to her but I’m half-sure she’d drop it, so I prop it on my hip to shut the back door of the truck.  Someone parked it properly during the commotion of getting the runaway horse into the barn, and I double check for the keys before locking it and starting back towards the house. 

“You and Hiccup having a long car ride together—”

“Hiccup?”  I stop short, irritation and curiosity and irritation at that curiosity all prickle the back of my neck as I try not to glance towards the barn.  The horse isn’t shrieking.  That probably means it’s almost over.  He said it himself, he doesn’t know how to take care of a horse, much less a sick, violent one who doesn’t want to be here.  “You’re asking about Hiccup right now?” 

“No, I care about the stupid horse that got out and chores or whatever,” Ruffnut rolls her eyes, “of course I’m asking about Hiccup.  He’s new and he’s going to be here all summer and you were alone with him for the first time since the fated second grade hair-pulling incident—”

“He says he’s going to take care of the mustang,” I cut her off, stomping back up towards the house.  “We’ll see if he survives the summer.” 

“It did seem to like him,” Ruffnut misses my tone entirely, craning her neck to see through the open barn door instead of getting the door into the house for me.

00000

By the time the Haddocks are done with the vet, Gobber has arrived to save us all from whatever Ruffnut was going to call dinner, and everyone has returned from their last afternoon chores to help set the table.  Ruffnut won’t stop looking at me like she thinks I’m keeping a secret and I do my best to ignore her, quizzing Fishlegs about the back pasture and looking anywhere but at the door. 

When it opens, Mr. Haddock walks in first, followed by Hiccup, who’s dragging muddy feet and clutching a bottle of some kind of medicine in his hand.  He tucks it into his pocket before anyone can comment and I look away, back at the table, waiting to see if he’s going to take my usual seat on Mr. Haddock’s right. 

Gobber surprises me by sitting there before Hiccup can, and Hiccup stares at the table for a second before sitting next to Gobber, apparently choosing somewhere neutral.  I take Mr. Haddock’s left, daring anyone to mention it and hating that I’m a bit relieved when Snotlout and Tuffnut start up an under their breath conversation about the best way to get the money to enter some rodeo next month. 

“How’s your first day back in town, lad?”  Gobber starts the dinner conversation as food is handed around and Hiccup shrugs.  Rude. Again.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Anything interesting so far?” 

“Interesting,” Hiccup chuckles under his breath at an inside joke he’s decided not to share.  Probably for the best, I haven’t liked any of his other ones.  “I don’t know if that’s the word for anything.” 

“Hiccup has decided to take care of that horse,” Mr. Haddock nudges Gobber’s knee under the table, “the little black stowaway from the Hofferson herd.” 

“Not part of the herd,” I interject and Hiccup’s gaze flicks at me out of the corner of his eyes.  It makes him look even younger than he was acting earlier when he tries to be sneaky, like a kid hiding behind the curtain with feet fully exposed, and I look back at my plate. 

“A horse, huh?  That’s a pretty big commitment for day one.” 

“First of many,” Mr. Haddock encourages, and I can’t help but wonder how Hiccup would be acting if his dad weren’t being so gentle with him.  If I talked to anyone the way Hiccup has talked to his father today, I wouldn’t be seeing Stormfly for a week, let alone getting a new horse to take care of. 

Not that I’d want the black mustang anyway. 

I look at Hiccup again, the growing nagging question in the back of my mind searching for some clue as to what made that horse stop instead of plowing him down like a crooked fencepost.  His sweatshirt sleeve falls down over his skinny wrist as he limply pushes a pile of green beans around his plate, not hungry enough to ignore the taste and eat what he can get. 

“Well, I had an exciting day,” Gobber forces the table-wide conversation along even as Fishlegs and the twins try to start a separate whispered argument, “first theft at the general store in a decade.” 

“Oh?”  Hiccup shoves a forkful of green beans in his mouth and proceeds to talk with his mouth open, big city manners on full display, “guess we should call the governor and rewrite the century’s crime statistics.” 

“What happened?”  Mr. Haddock asks seriously, hand on Gobber’s knee under the table, “is everyone ok?” 

“Everyone’s fine,” Gobber shrugs and looks directly at Hiccup, “Mr. Wrigley’s still unaccounted for, but I’m working on it.” 

“Mr. Wrigley?”  Mr. Haddock looks at me like I might know who Gobber is talking about and I shrug. 

“Hiccup,” Gobber raises an eyebrow, “do you know anything about the pack of gum you stole from my store earlier?  I thought I’d start my sleuthing at the source.” 

“What?”  Hiccup chokes on a green bean and Snotlout makes no move to thump him on the back, instead cradling his elbow and shaking his head. 

“The pack of gum you took from my store when you didn’t think I was watching,” Gobber strokes his moustache. “Any news on its whereabouts?” 

“I don’t—”  He clears his throat, green eyes looking wild around the room, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Gum?  What gum?”

“Empty your pockets.”  Mr. Haddock leaves no room for argument, but Hiccup tries anyway. 

“The warden searched me at the gate, I swear, you can ask her.”  He looks at me like I have something to do with this and I try to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when I realize that he used me as a ride to steal.  From Gobber. 

“Empty your pockets.  Now.”  Mr. Haddock stands up and the room is silent except for Gobber happily snacking on a dinner roll and waiting for the drama to play out. 

The horse meds come out first, a brand-new orange bottle.  Then a thin wallet patched with duct tape. 

Then a nearly new pack of gum that Hiccup opens to demonstrate the one missing piece. 

“You see, I actually got this at the airport.  In New York, actually, because my ears always struggle to pop on the plane and don’t you just hate that—”

Mr. Haddock flips the pack of gum over to reveal the “General Store 0.99” orange sticker on the back and Hiccup’s mouth flaps a few useless times. 

“Not even a day and you’re stealing?”  The whole room flinches at Mr. Haddock’s yelling this time, except Hiccup, who just sinks down further in his chair, arms crossed, expression petulant. 

I wish that stupid horse would let me near it, just for an excuse to grab those pills and leave, to not have to see another Haddock family tussle today. 

“I didn’t think anyone was watching,” Hiccup mumbles, “I’ll pay for the gum—”

“How am I supposed to trust you?  I just loaned you money for antibiotics for that damn animal—”

“Oh, so since I stole a pack of gum you’re just going to go shoot the horse out back?  Great, that’ll teach me, really proportionate response,” Hiccup gripes as his dad takes the bottle of pills, sarcasm flat and eyes trained on the table. 

That is until his dad plops the bottle down next to my unused spoon. 

Then Hiccup’s eyes go wide.  Probably about as wide as mine. 

“I was going to try and trust you with that beast, but obviously, you aren’t responsible enough.”  Mr. Haddock stands up, plate in hand, face as red as the shag carpet downstairs, “and I’m too furious to deal with you myself, so I’m giving these to my foreman—”

“Foreman?”  The word sounds foreign in my mouth, the promotion that could convince my parents to let me stay through the year suddenly thrown into the rest of this gigantic mess. 

“My Foreman Astrid,” Mr. Haddock continues, “you do what she asks of you and when she thinks you’ve earned it, she’ll give you what the horse needs.” 

“Dad!”  Hiccup acts like he still has room to argue, even with the evidence of his illegal activity staring up at him from the center of the table. 

“It’s about time that you learn some things need to be earned.  And if you can’t earn Astrid’s trust, how are you going to re-earn mine?  Or Gobber’s?”  He exits with that, stomping into his bedroom to eat and slamming the door behind him. 

Everyone stares. 

Gobber claims the pack of gum from the center of the table and tucks it into the breast pocket of his shirt before resuming his dinner. 

“If it makes it any better, laddie, I didn’t trust you to begin with, that’s why I was watching.”  He waves his hook around by his temple, “living with all those lights on all the time does things to a person.” 

“So, it’s the lights fault?”  Hiccup asks flatly, avoiding my eyes like he apparently avoids all concept of responsibility, “can I use that?” 

“No, you can’t,” Gobber coughs, “in this case, this is entirely your fault, and if you want to help that horse, you best start asking Astrid what you can help her with.” 

I’m used to being the bad guy.  Really.  I’m the bad guy when Stormfly wants treats or when Ruffnut wants to sleep in or when Snotlout is trying to sneak out the night before we need him.  I’m the bad guy when I remind my parents that their ranch used to mean something, that Hofferson used to mean something. 

It’s second nature to stand up and pocket the pills, glancing at Hiccup’s untouched green beans before speaking. 

“After you’ve cleaned your plate, follow me out to the barn, you can help me feed.” 

“Not hungry,” he gripes, pushing the food away from him, oblivious to the way Snotlout eyes it like he’s weighing how gross it is to eat Hiccup’s food. 

“I meant at the sink.”  I look towards the kitchen then back at him. 

“Dishes?”  He raises a challenging eyebrow, “you’re not going to give me my horse’s medicine if I don’t do dishes?” 

“Among other things, I’m sure,” Gobber chirps, grinning at me even as the pill bottle feels like an anvil in my pocket. 

“I’m going to ask you to pull your own weight around here.”  I put on my best bad guy voice and Snotlout sighs, whispering behind his hand to Tuffnut. 

“Finally, she has someone else to bitch at.” 

I hate that I recognize the flash of realization across Hiccup’s face as he encounters everyone’s favorite corner.  When there are two options and one of them involves agreeing with Snotlout, there’s really only one option. 

“Fine,” he stands up, slouching to the kitchen and scraping his food into the trash before making a production over double scrubbing his plate before dropping it loudly into the drying rack. 

“You’ve got this, lassie,” Gobber tells me, unnecessarily, “a few days under your thumb will whip him right into shape.” 

“What shape?”  Snotlout snorts, flexing his bicep at Hiccup as he stalks back outside, and if weren’t directed at Snotlout, I’d call him out on the middle finger he doesn’t quite hide against his leg. 

#t:rttbposc #i need more horse girl hiccup #httyd fic #modern au #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #remember this dude #he's in for it now

[drcsmdws-blog]

have you been re-introduced to DORCAS MEADOWES? last we heard, the PUREBLOOD was most familiar with TIMELINE ONE. I don’t recall if they were always a RAVENCLAW, but I’ve heard the SEVENTH YEAR. is still LOYAL, STRATEGIC, OBSERVANT and INDECISIVE, OVERTHINKING, RETICENT, so that’s familiar. at least SHE remembers her way around the castle.

PINTEREST. | PLAYLIST.

CHARACTER INSPO:  Astrid Leong ( Crazy Rich Asians ), Veronica Lodge ( Riverdale - i’m so sorry ), Rory Gilmore ( Gilmore Girls ), Peyton Charles ( iZombie ), Prue Halliwell( Charmed ), Celeste Wright ( Big Little Lies ),Carla Rosón ( Elite )

character history ( mentions of suicide, death, ocd, alcoholism )

HISTORY:

MEMORY ONE: THE FIRST WIN AGAINST BELARUS MEADOWES.

“Dad, why is my name Dorcas?”

          “Why is the sky blue?”

The two had a chess date every Saturday afternoon that carried into her Hogwarts years. He’d make the trip to the castle just to spend some quality time and when Dorcas was old enough to go on Hogsmeade trips, they’d find their spot in Madame Puddifoots amidst the couples and giggling girls in the shop. Belarus loved being surrounded by so many happy and smitten people, Dorcas could see how he thrived, how he practically fed off of it like he was in deficit of it  – of love. If Dorcas was being honest with herself ( which, she rarely was)she knew that things with her parents weren’t right, she knew her father and her mother didn’t really love each other the way they should’ve, the way the couples around them did, but she didn’t concern herself with that then.

         She was playing to win and this chess game she might’ve had a chance.

Belarus gave a knowing smile, he knew his daughter well, he knew she was really really trying this time, but he was not going to give her the win. No matter how much she tried to distract him with nonsensical questions.

“It’s because it fits you,” he started, while Dorcas shot him look that said how could you think the name Dorcas fits anyone. “I’m serious, I knew you’d be a dork the minute you came out of your mother’s womb.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

     “I like to think I’m clever, yes.”

“You’re not quick, though,” Dorcas announced triumphantly as the final move was made, a checkmate about to be declared. A semi-stunned Belarus leaned back in his chair and admired his daughter’s resourcefulness, her quick wit, he didn’t know if in that moment she’d have made a better Slytherin than Ravenclaw, but he thought she could’ve been a brilliant one. An argument could’ve been made that Dorcas, in another life, would’ve been a Slytherin, maybe if she’d grown up differently, maybe if she had to rely more on self-preservation than she did at cleverly hiding things away she didn’t want the world to know. If she had a quick wit that stung because hers soared, it carried her above the masses, it made her a formidable chess rival because she was able to see more from the towers than the dungeons. From Afar. Observant for the sake of learning, not just for survival.

Maybe she’d learned from the best, watching her father all these years, an imitation act that became an identity.

“Checkmate,” Dorcas smiled, bouncing in her seat, a bright smile on her face. In that moment, she could’ve screamed with joy, but it wasn’t the victory that was the most important to her – it was finally giving her father a worthy opponent. It wasn’t just student surpassing teacher, it was finally a meeting of EQUALS. Belarus would always complain to Dorcas about how dull the people at the pureblood societal events they went to were, the older she got the more he felt comfortable complaining and being so open, but he was never open enough. Even though he was her father, Dorcas knew he needed a friend, she hoped she could be as much as a friend to him as he was to her.

Dorcas had a ready mind, she could tell that her father was not happy, that he was pretending more often than not, it was something they had in common. At least they could brave this world. Together.

MEMORY TWO: THE FUNERAL OF BELARUS MEADOWES.

No one gave any speeches. No one remembered Belarus like Dorcas did. Her father, her monument, her soul – no one gave a shit, not a real one, besides Dorcas. No one wanted to give more attention to the shameful tragedy that was Belarus ending his life, they all thought him weak, unmanly, pathetic. Some say that death sweetens the memory but for Belarus, for everyone else but Dorcas, it made the memory of his existence and how it ended left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths. They barely spoke his name. The family who he’d left behind barely able to comprehend what he’d done – Dorcas was no exception. She was the closest to him.  She remembers begging her mother to let her give a eulogy, to do something for her father’s memory, but it was all a cut and dry affair. There could be no tragedy if they didn’t mourn him like one, denial was their friend, her mother would coo into her ear and though Dorcas knew she was right ( denial had been a dear friend over the years ) it didn’t feel like the right thing when it came to her father’s passing.

This struck Dorcas Meadowes as she was often NOT concerned on whether or not she was doing the right thing.

Every year she leaves a charmed Peace Lily that lasts an entire month without any additional care ( because who else besides Dorcas would visit him? ), every year there’s a period of time where Dorcas just shuts herself in her bathtub and reads. Not the Prophet, which once held Belarus’ obituary and a small section reserved for the Meadowes family and their contribution to society, but the books she used to read with her father that she doesn’t touch any other days of the year. Dorcas, who has always had various preparations for anything she did now lived by the little rituals to help her get through the monotony of her life without her father. The extensive skin care routine. The bi-weekly hair masks made by her own hands, diligently crafted in her cauldron. The way she redid and color coded the notes she had for all her classes every Saturday afternoon at the end of the week. Making her bed, the corners perfectly in place, every morning. Rituals which help her maintain some semblance of balance without him around, to help her cope, that have become staples in her life that help her gather up the endurance to continue being her.

She goes on that way, the Dorcas Meadowes shown to the world is clever and knows what to say, know how to say the right things and when, is kind and is your friend, but not your best friend. She’s popular and known, she’s warm but distant, she’s an enigma to some but really she’s just a girl who knew the art of surviving and knew how to make the best out of a situation that was impossible. That she couldn’t escape from. That she wouldn’t dream to escape from because why should she? The money, the access, the lack of personal fulfillment was easy to mask, she had the privilege to do so much – she could do so much more from within should she ever want to lift a finger to do more than she did. There was nothing morally against her life, it might’ve killed her father, but how could she leave? Her friends who meant the world to her were still by her side, the ones she’d grown up with, her mother may not have loved her but she had a legacy, a birthright, she had a place in society that was too precious to give up and she knew it. Dorcas knew it, even if it killed her too, that her life was textbook-ly too good to leave.

Still, she wondered, why couldn’t her father have stayed? At his funeral she looked at him, his body, one last time before he was put into the ground and could only wonder why?

She always thought she understood him, that she understood how he felt, but had she? Had she ever? Had she really? When she could still stay in this world while he was gone?

MEMORY THREE: THE MOURNING OF BELARUS MEADOWES: BARGAINING.  

Had Dorcas Meadowes ever been loved by her mother? Truly loved? Given a hug not based on merit but because when you love someone so much you just can’t help but to physically cherish them, their existence, to express it in physical touch. Had she ever given her daughter a kiss on the cheek before bed, wishing her sweet dreams, reading bedtime story upon bed time story until her imagination was quelled into a sleep filled with dreams&technicolor fantasies?

( Dorcas doesn’t dream anymore.         If it’s not a dark sleep, it’s a scene.                 It’s a flashback. It’s the coroner’s report.                         Her father’s casket buried into the ground.                                       Bottles of Merlot broken upon marble floors –                                              was his blood that red too when he passed?                         It’s question after question,                        It’s maze after maze. Dorcas doesn’t dream anymore. )

Had her mother ever made her laugh so hard her mascara smudged, had she ever ever spent hours upon hours playing chess with her? Had they read in their library in tandem, sitting in a comfortable silence for hours on end? Had they ever sat on the balcony in their villa at Lake Como and talked about the world, about the stars ( she never listened or cared much about them but when Belarus talked about the stars, about anything, you listened ). Had she ever gone to Paris with her and serenaded her on the tip top of the Eiffel tower? Had her mother spent hours answering every question Dorcas ever had? Had she run through the streets of Rome with her, flown on a broomstick at night around the Colosseum ( What fun would being a wizard be if we can’t break into muggle monuments, my Doe? ). Had she jumped in the turquoise waters of Santorini and spoken extremely horrible Greek with a tired Dorcas carried on her shoulders?

Had she ever helped her when it wasn’t in her best interest to do so? Had she ever let her daughter have the option of being ANYTHING but her own personal Atlas?

( Her mother spent hours lost in booze, lost in anger, in a rage that Dorcas could understand, could feel herself some days but with a Sterling Silver Role Model like her mother she vowed to never ever be like her. Her children would never know their mother blacked out, slurred speech, screaming, her children would only know chess, kindness, laughter, charms&gentleness – this she VOWS. )

Dorcas wishes she could’ve lightened the load he felt, she hopes, she ( dreams ) knows that having just one month with him she could finally understand why he did what he did, why he left her, why she wasn’t enough to tie him to this Earth for even a few years more when theyboth could’ve made their escape? Didn’t he know she’d follow him to the ends of the Earth, didn’t he know he was her world, her stars, her sky, her ocean? If she had told him more, if only she had written him more letters. It kept her up at night, thinking of why she wasn’t enough and what more she could’ve done because when she looked back, she knew there was always so much more she could’ve been & done for him, Dorcas wondered too –  did he know something she didn’t about leaving this society? Was she forever trapped like him, wasdeath the only way out, was that why he did it? Why, why, why, she made herself sick with the why but that wasn’t as important as the gift that having one more month with him would be. Maybe, with their minds combined – she could bring him back. Permanently.

( At least with a month she could let him know she loved him, she’d go to the ends of the world with & for him, that he was so so loved by her, that at least if she could onlyhaveonemonth, if life was to be even crueler than it already had been by giving her so much yet so little time, Dorcas could let her father know he was loved. Some people would be angry, sure, she was angry, but not at him. At everyone else around him. At his wife, her mother, but Merlin, he was loved. That would be enough. )

Lie. She needed so much more.

REACTION:

Dorcas lets herself live in such denial, lets herself push down every doubt she has and any intent on acting on it easily because there is no need to act. But in the other timelines? There was. In one, Voldemort won – she knows deep down she couldn’t have stood idly by and feels a deep sense of agony at the idea of doing so & getting confirmation that she didn’t is both relieving and terrifying. Abandoning the people she grew up with ( because that’s what it is at the end of the day to those in pureblood society, abandonment ) is something she couldn’t see herself doing in her original timeline, but knowing she could should the political climate call for it, that her morals won out, that they always will –  gives her hope. It’s intriguing as well, getting proof that other timelines and alternative universes exist. Fascinating for someone who’s already interested in the great beyond and fantasy worlds she’s read in her books but realizing she was living in a utopia compared to the other timelines is sobering. Seeing the people she cares about in other timelines suffering through other universes while she’s in her ivory tower is guilt-inducing as well. It’s a wake up call, because Dorcas never would’ve described herself as unhappy in her timeline now but seeing other timelines makes her realize things she’s been trying to hide from herself for so long and it’s scary.

#diversions.i #i decided to copy and paste my app bc im TOO LAZY TO MAKE AN INTRO #ill post wanted connections soon #also ill never use the gif of her playing cello in game SO here's a gif of gayoung playing cello

[astridthevalkyrie]

That’s All She Wrote

“If you want to be questioned by me…” He suddenly gripped her throat as Astrid gasped for air. She started to deliver blow after blow to the man’s chest, which seemed to have no effect on him. “Then just remember, you asked for it.” Oneshot.

@jayalaw It’s done! I hope you like it, it was kinda tough to do.

Tagging some other people who might like to see this: @athingofvikings, @evilwriter37, @ashleybenlove, @howtodrawyourdragon, @thewarriorofberk

Trigger warning for rape and torture.

“The bigger question is, who are these dragon hunters and what do they want from us?”

Astrid heard Heather’s voice from behind her answer the question. “You’re about to find out.”

She glared at the other girl, who smirked lazily as the guards opened the cell and walked in. Astrid’s fists clenched - she wanted to punch her. They took in this woman, and this was her way of repaying them?

“Ryker wants to have a little chat with you.”

She grit her teeth as Heather pushed her out without letting her take even a glance at her friends - just who the fuck did she think she was?

“You’re lucky these guards are here,” she snarled quietly, one hand of Heather’s on her shoulder as they walked. “Or I’d take your head off.”

Heather scoffed. “Ha, you’d try.”

“After everything we did for you, took you in, taught you to ride, saved your life - more than once.”

“And I thank you for all of that. But I have to follow my destiny.”

Astrid growled lowly. “Betraying your friends and joining these dragon hunter scum?” She didn’t care if the guards heard her.

“Hey,” Heather said sharply, “you don’t know what it’s like to be truly alone, Astrid. Dagur is my brother. I trust him with my life.”

When had this woman become so stupid?

“You’ll regret that. Believe me.”

A smirk appeared on Heather’s face again. “Well, your concern is touching, but if I were you, I’d be more worried about myself.” She knocked on the door, and Astrid heard his voice.

That man who had taken Stormfly. Ryker.

“Come!”

“Ryker wants information and he can be very persuasive.”

Astrid fixed her with a hard glare as she walked in. She was a Hofferson - no matter what Ryker did, she’d stay strong. She wouldn’t tell them whatever they wanted to know, no matter what it was, unless she was telling him where he could stick his information.

 The first hour or so, Ryker didn’t say a word.

Dagur and Heather questioned her loudly, and she enjoyed getting Dagur more and more worked up by the second. Heather was more cool about her emotions, but every time a flash of anger passed through her eyes, Astrid felt triumphant. Apparently, the hunters wanted information about the Dragon Eye and the Edge.

And all the while, Ryker sat down on his throne of sorts, and watched them. He looked bored, although Astrid tried to look just as disinterested, if not more.

“You are going to tell us how many people are guarding Dragon’s Edge or so help me I will run you through!” Dagur picked up a sword for emphasis. “Hiccup won’t like seeing you all cut up, you know!”

Astrid rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, although she did feel a twinge of annoyance that he thought her biggest problem to herself being hurt would be Hiccup’s reaction.

“Eat dragon shit,” she told Dagur, who snarled and seemed ready to lunge at her until Heather put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

So they weren’t supposed to kill her. Well, that was a huge advantage on her part.

“Hey.” This time, she addressed Ryker personally. He raised a brow. “Why don’t you question me yourself, unless you’re a cowardly troll’s arse, that is.”

Her Advanced Rudery skills were pristine as always.

But she really shouldn’t have tempted fate.

Ryker stood up, and Astrid caught a quick flash of something - something - in Heather’s eyes. He walked up to them and grabbed both her arms so fast she gasped,slamming her against the wall. Dagur cackled.

“Oh, good one, Ryky! Again!”

“If you want to be questioned by me…” He suddenly gripped her throat as Astrid gasped for air. She started to deliver blow after blow to the man’s chest, which seemed to have no effect on him. “Then just remember, you asked for it.”

Astrid screamed.

She screamed so loudly she thought she might burst her own eardrums.

And that wasn’t the first one he got out of her.

She heard the crack of the whip again and managed to muffle it this time, but that didn’t stop the searing hot pain from spreading across her bare stomach, that didn’t stop her from hearing Dagur’s maniacal laughing, or keep her from watching Heather, who showed no emotion at all.

The pain was only one part of it - the humiliation added in too. It would be worse if there were others watching, but it was only the three of them. She prayed they wouldn’t bring her friends in.

In her mind’s eye, she saw her friends hearing her, and them screaming out as they broke through the cell and rescued her, but even as she fantasized about it, she knew that the walls were thick because she would have heard them yell out by now.

Ryker whipped her again, and Astrid’s vision went white for a second.

“Where do you hide the Dragon Eye?” he asked calmly.

Astrid cried, and her response came out shaky. “Fuck...you.”

“In time,” he said, and she barely managed to process it before he whipped her again, and gods - she knew she was bleeding, she could feel something hot and sticky sliding down her stomach.

They must have noticed it too, because she heard the whip tossed to the side. Astrid gasped in relief as Heather kneeled down and placed her hand on her stomach. “Dagur, towel.”

He complained, something about wanting to see the blood, but he complied, and she was wiped off. Then Heather wiped the towel around her, squeezing it tightly enough to make her cry out again.

Surprisingly, they let her take breaks. There was no questioning during those times, although Daur paced back and forth furiously, and they were never long enough.

They never whipped her enough to make her bleed again, but her upper half still felt like it was on fire.

And Ryker kept taunting her, saying all they needed was a bit of information, but…

But she’d die before she gave up her friends.

She wished for death once she figured out what Ryker was about to do next.

“Hold her still, Dagur.”

He didn’t need to squeeze her arm, Astrid thought, she was barely moving. But Dagur was as sadistic as ever, gripping her arm as tight as possible and whispering in her ear, “I bet you’d scream louder if it was Hiccup we were doing this to. Gods, you have no idea how much I’d love to do this to him.”

A sharp swell of fear shot up her spine and she felt nauseous. Suddenly she wanted the pain. She wouldn’t mind it if it was someone other than these psychos hurting her. She wanted to get out.

She wanted to get out!

Tears started streaming down her cheeks again as she struggled against Dagur’s grip. He started laughing again, he knew his words had gotten to her.

“Stay still,” Heather commanded.

Ryker had unbuckled his armor. With a start, Astrid realized what he was about to do.

“No!” she screamed in horror, actually managing to get free from Dagur but falling back. “No, no, no, I’m his, I’m going to be pure for him, leave me alone, let me out!” Astrid tried to run for the door. “Let me out!”

Ryker grabbed her braid and yanked it back, throwing her into Dagur’s arms. She screamed and writhed to no avail as Ryker tore off her clothes.

She hardly noticed the pained look in Heather’s eyes.

As he pushed into her, she screamed as loud as she could, clawed him and fought him, but he only laughed.

Gods above, it hurt so bad.

And she finally talked.

She lied.

But she still talked, and the shame of even doing that much was worse than anything they could do to her.

This, though? This was pretty fucking close.

It felt like it went on for hours. Torture, rape, torture, rape. Whips, small blades, hot iron. Ryker, then Dagur. They used her in ways she didn’t know she could be used.

Sometime along it she realized that Heather hadn’t actually joined the hunters.

Maybe it was how she looked away, maybe it was the slightest flinch she had whenever she saw them taking her. But Astrid knew.

That made it worse, somehow.

Light shone through the window when they were done with her.

They had kept going even when she gave them information. She had begged and pleaded, much to her own humiliation, and they hadn’t stopped.

She’d kill them one day.

She lay naked, battered, and bruised as they left for something as casual as breakfast. Only Heather remained.

As soon as they were out of earshot, she dropped down next to Astrid and cupped her cheek, looking horrified. “Oh my gods, fuck - why didn’t you tell them what they wanted, Astrid?”

She couldn’t answer, and there was no point in saying anything anyway.

“Astrid, look what they did to you - oh gods, Astrid.”

She wished Heather would stop saying her name. All she could do was look at her, shaking.

“I swear, I’m going to get you guys out of here.”

What was the point? Would anyone look at her the same again after this night?

“I promise.” And then Heather kissed her gently, just like she had the day before she left all those years ago on Berk, just like when she had wished her goodnight on the Edge, and Astrid had kissed back, those other times.

This time, though, she pushed her shoulders with what little strength she could manage and shook her head, pressing into the wall.

She wasn’t pure anymore. She wasn’t honorable. She wasn’t a Hofferson. What didn’t Heather understand about that?

“Come on, Astrid, talk to me.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“Tell my friends that I’m fine.”

She didn’t let Heather tell her that that was impossible before she passed out.

If she wasn’t going to be a Hofferson, then she’d be stronger than one, at least until she killed Ryker and splattered his blood and humiliated him the way he humiliated her.

And that was her promise to herself.

#httyd #astrid #rtte #heather #ryker #dagur #tw rape #tw torture #valkyrie stories

[winterbarger]

🎧 *eye emoji*

don’t you 👀 me ( @henrybcwers )

sometimes we’re up, sometimes we’re down.

I. HURTS SO GOOD BY ASTRID Syou say you’re not, but you’re still a liarcause i’m the one that you run to firstyou pull away and i come in closerand all we ever stay is torn

Okay, so I can imagine them in this like, broken relationship right? Like, all they ever do is hurt each other, but they keep running back towards each other. And like, both are so used to pain that in a way, they can’t imagine a life without it. They are used to getting hurt, a paperman and a corpse girl, and she’s not supposed to be drawn to him because he’s a bully and racist and mean and stuff, but a big part of why he lashes out is because his dad. And she gets that? Because her dad hurt her in a very raw, very deep way; that has scarred her in a way that It never has, and never will like that hurt is one thing that her dad has carved out of her. And maybe he comes to her expecting to be fixed, maybe, instead to discover that she’s… she can’t fix herself, not really. She’s stitched herself back up in a semblance of a human being but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still broken. And hurt is a secret, shameful comfort in a sense, because it’s familiar, because it’s normal. And no matter how hard they try, they can’t stop hurting each other. They can’t make anything better than what they already have. Also touching is a Big Thing for her, and I can imagine that somehow, they can gentle their hands for each other. But the emotional and mental hurting is still there, yeah.

II. TALKING BODY BY MIKE SCHIAVO (COVER)smoke, smoke me broke,i don’t care, i’m down for what you wantday drunk into the night, wanna keep you herecause you dry my tears, yeah

I’m…. I’m so sorry? I literally don’t even know how to- casual sex? Uhhh, first times and shit, and then the first turns into a lot of other times. I guess taking whatever from each other, whether it’s love or lust or whatever, and using each other to repress their emotions, helping each other in a sense? Whether it’s because he’s about to break down and cry because of his dad, or for her when the nightmares become too much, they reach out for each other? Him getting drunk, sneaking his dad’s beers and her with a pack of cigarettes and them just being teens together? Like it doesn’t even matter if some days they’re only in pieces, and can’t be fucked enough to put themselves together enough to be whole, because they don’t need to be whole around each other??? IDK THIS SONG TOOK ME BY SURPRISE.

III. ONCE IN A WHILE BY TIMEFLIESbut once in a while, i catch myselfonce in a while, i ask myselfwhat am i doing?once in a while, i need your help

Good times, lighter times. Kids being kids - spinning around in a circle, arms linked, tumbling into the grass, dirty but lungs burning from laughing too hard. Older; parties with drinking, and more laughing, meeting in empty but chaotic kitchens as the stereo pounds from the living room, eyes meeting, leaning against kitchen counters, heads propped against walls, enjoying the moment. Moments of doubt during thrown punches and 13-year-old kids brunting his anger, a decidedly selfish moment of kindness from a blonde haired girl. Wondering what the fuck they are doing with their lives - wondering if they could do better?

IV. MOUTH TO MOUTH BY EMIKAi’m gonna make you all believethat i’ll be all you ever needand with a mouth that wants to playi’ll keep my finger on your lips

Uh, firstly sex, ngl. But more deeper - there’s a sort of ingrained necessity to Its existence in their lives? Her: survivor, would-be victim of its teeth and he: vessel, taken control of by its power. And its scarred them for sure, both of them, made them who they are where past experiences didn’t. And belief is such a huge part of Laurie Ann’s character too, of what happened to her and how the adults believe something different, of her belief and faith in God and Jesus as a crutch. And for like Henry, people believe what they want to believe about him - that he’s a bully, that he’s a terrible person that in a way, people don’t want to believe otherwise. And of course, that he did to the Losers’ Club what IT did to them. So much so that he was framed and convicted for all those murders.

V. WE DON’T TALK ANYMORE BY CHARLIE PUTH FT. SELENA GOMEZthere must be a good reason that you’re goneevery now and then i think youmight want me to come show up at your doorbut i’m just too afraid that i’ll be wrong 

Trying to move on with their lives, to the best of their abilities. What used to be a complicatedly simple comfort is now in the past, along with It and all of that happened to them. And sometimes, in moments of weakness or perhaps nostalgia, they want for old crutches. He must be in that Asylum for a good reason, right? She must’ve left Derry and moved to a big city for a good reason, right? Fear has plagued the both of them, and it never really leaves, does it? But it does leave its mark. 

#henrybcwers #( answered meme. ) #( playlist. ) #tbh i skipped one song cuz it was a christmas song and i was like... yeah no lol #it was Leslie Odom Jr's cover of First Noel from his christmas album btw #BUT YEAH THIS WAS FUN BUT ALSO WEIRDLY HARD #also i apologize for my predominantly mainstream trash spotify #i'm a fake

[astridthevalkyrie]

Hurt

Trigger warning for abuse. Astrid Hofferson finds herself getting increasingly hot headed as she sees a brown haired man receive more and more harsh words from his girlfriend.

All Astrid Hofferson wanted to do on her day off was get a muffin and some hot chocolate, and then lounge around her apartment and do nothing. For once, to be relaxed.

What a laughable thought that was.

She had just stepped into the shop, the pleasant smell of the bakery filling her nose and making her drowsy. It was still in the wee hours of the morning - which was perfect, because the shop got busy later in the day. Besides the man behind the counter, there was another guy sitting at a two seater table alone, and her attention was drawn to him quickly, because there was a dark red bruise on his cheek.

It contrasted with his pale skin. He had brownish-reddish hair, and bright but downcast green eyes. All in all attractive, but that bruise hadn’t come out of thin air.

Probably a fistfight. Some people were crazy.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, but they both looked away. She walked past him, yawning softly before giving her order to the man behind the counter. He gave her the muffin right away, and got started on her hot chocolate.

The door flew open, and Astrid shivered as the early November breeze seeped in. She really needed to get a better jacket. A young woman had walked in, and she looked furious, plopping herself down in front of the man with a glare.

Oh boy. Someone was mad. She didn’t know the relation between the two people, but she could guess that the woman might be mad about wherever that fresh looking bruise had come from.

Astrid was just about to let herself get lost in her thoughts when the woman hissed, loudly, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

That got her attention real quickly. Astrid didn’t look their way, but she was attentive now. It wasn’t eavesdropping, the woman wasn’t even trying to whisper. Instead, she continued to talk in that loud hiss of her’s.

“Not a single text. You think you’re allowed to just walk out of my house, you fucking moron? And then all I get is a text? I’m your goddamn girlfriend, and you better start treating me like it.”

This earned a side glance to the couple. The man was still looking down, and as Astrid noticed, he was shaking a little too. She averted her gaze as the woman looked up.

“You see that girl over there? You should thank her,” the woman snarled, “because she is the only reason I’m not beating the fucking shit out of you right now. Just fucking wait until we get home, Hiccup, I swear.”

Astrid clicked her tongue, and her mouth felt dry. Had that bruise on the man’s cheek come from this woman, his girlfriend? Oh, something was very wrong here. Another glance proved that the man, Hiccup, was still looking down, only now he was shaking and cowering very noticeably. She swore a tear slipped down his cheek.

Right, yeah, she had heard enough to gauge the situation.

The server came back and handed her the warm cup. Astrid took a deep breath, thanked him, and then slid into the table next to the couple rather than going back home like she had planned. It felt like she was on some reality show, the ones that would gauge people’s reaction. There was a slightly nauseating feeling in her stomach.

She was a cop. She shouldn’t have let these things affect her whether they were inside or outside of a case.

There was a minute of silence, and then finally, Hiccup spoke, in a slightly nasally voice, “I - I ordered for you.”

The woman scoffed. “Oh, great, What did you order this time, you idiot?”

He swallowed, and Astrid wanted so badly to reach out and hold his hand and hug him. “I - I got what you ordered last time. The - the…”

“The what?” she snapped, and Astrid’s fists clenched.

“I f-forgot what it’s called, but I pointed to the picture on the menu. It’s the one you liked last time,” he whimpered, shifting in his seat. The woman started to mock his stutter.

Oh fucking hell, would it look way too bad for her if she just decked the woman in the face?

Sure enough, two minutes later, a hot, sweet treat was brought from the kitchen and placed in front of the woman. Astrid gauged her reaction carefully.

“Oh, look at that, the dummy actually did something right for once.”

There was a second where absolute fury passed through the blonde and she knew she was going to speak up now, but she needed just a moment to calm down or she would be jumping on the woman.

As she took a huge bite out of her treat, Astrid leaned forward with a steely glare.

“Excuse me?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you on drugs, or do you get off on being a bitch?”

The woman’s eyes widened, and Hiccup’s head snapped up to face her. He was still trembling, so Astrid stood up right next to their table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your ears work,” she spat, glaring down at the woman, “I asked, do you get off on being a bitch? Because from what I see, this guy hasn’t done anything to you and you’re being a jerk to him.”

The woman opened her mouth and closed it as Hiccup pressed back into his chair, looking afraid. “Listen, sweetheart. This is none of your business, so I think you should just -”

“I’m a police officer,” Astrid interrupted, gazing coolly, “and, you know, someone with morals. I really think you should leave.”

“Oh, like I wanted to stay in this dump!” The woman’s lip curled in disgust, and she reached out to grab Hiccup’s arm, but Astrid grabbed her’s before she touched him.

“Nuh uh.” Her words were laced with anger. “Don’t touch him, because I can see how bad that bruise on his face is. And if he’s got others, which I’m betting he does, you might well be charged with attempted murder. Oh, sure, I know,” Astrid said, seeing her mouth open in protest, “you would never let it go that far, you love him, yadda yadda yadda. Get lost.”

With that, she let the woman’s arm go, although she kept her hand in front of Hiccup, who was staring wide eyed at the spectacle. The woman’s fists clenched, but at least she seemed to have accepted that she lost. She stood up, turned to her boyfriend and said, “Call me, got it?”, and left the shop, making the drumming in Astrid’s chest calm down, just a little.

Slowly and hesitantly, Astrid sat down where the woman had been sitting, and she peered at Hiccup, trying to notice anything she had missed when he walked in. He was scrawny, although very close to looking underweight, and he couldn’t seem to look her in the eyes at all.

“T-t-thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it. So that was your girlfriend?”

He nodded shortly.

“Alright, well, you...you don’t have to be with her, if you don’t want to. What she was saying and doing, that all looks like an abusive relationship, you know?” “Mmhm,” he mumbled softly.

“Can I order anything for you?” Astrid tried. “My treat. Anything you want.”

Hiccup shook his head frantically, his hand twitching on the table. “N-no. Please. I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, do have anywhere to stay?”

“No. I-I’m sorry, I live with her and she made me move out and -”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Astrid soothed, reaching over to place a hand over his. He flinched, and Astrid realized his hand was freezing cold. She stroked it gently to warm him up, and his cheeks turned a bright red.

“Do you want to go to the station with me?” she asked quietly. “I could make sure that she won’t come near you again, and...and you don’t deserve to be with someone who hurts you.”

Finally, he looked up at her, and his eyes were shining with tears, and he choked out, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Astrid repeated, and the she stood up, took out her phone, and pressed the first number on her speed dial. “Hello? Yes, it’s Hofferson, Captain. There’s a young man here at the bakery on Hooligan Street, he was just with a woman who was threatening to hit him and there’s a huge bruise on his cheek. She’s left, but...yes. Yeah, Peralta is - oh, okay, is Santiago free? Okay, okay, thank you.”

She hung up, and then leaned down next to Hiccup, holding his other hand and looking up at him. “An officer is on her way here, she’ll look a lot more dignified than I do, I promise.” She cracked a smile and the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

“Until then, are you sure you don’t want to eat something?”

“I’m sure,” he said quietly.

“Alright. I’m Astrid, by the way. Astrid Hofferson.” She stretched out her hand with a light smile. “And you’re Hiccup?”

“Henry. But Hiccup is fine. It’s what everyone calls me.”

Astrid held onto his hand, nodding. “Alright. Hiccup. Are you ready to put her behind you?”

Hiccup didn’t say anything, just looked at her with a slight hint of fear in his eyes. But there was also relief, and as he squeezed her fingers gently, Astrid realized this might have been one of the most rewarding feelings she had ever experienced.

#httyd #hiccup #astrid #short #i don't know what this is #valkyrie stories