Just a Guy

[crossoverse]

The Cast!

Base AU refs for everyone. Some design elements might change down the line.

Height charts below ⬇️

[92-guy]

Wow, Hiccup's outfit is perfect}

10/10

[clickabletale]

How it feels to be an adult rewatching Disney/Non-Disney crossover ships that I obsessed over as an infant:

[92-guy]

Hiccup had been sitting at the same table for a few minutes, checking the same message on his phone for the tenth time.

*Your date will arrive at seven.*

He didn't know anything else. Not a name, not a face, not where she'd come from —the app boasted about "eliminating franchise bias" by hiding that information until the moment of the encounter, a policy that, to Hiccup, that night, felt less like a virtue and more like a calculated form of torture.

Sitting alone now in a restaurant, with the echo of the conversation he'd had with his friends before leaving still fresh, Hiccup understood that the real fear wasn't the fame, or the stories, or someone recognizing him from some book or movie he didn't even know existed in universes other than his own. The real fear was much simpler, much older: the possibility that someone would show up, sit down across from him, and decide within the first five minutes that he wasn't worth staying for.

It had happened to him before. He didn't need it to happen again.

He was so busy mentally reviewing his last three failed dates —a list he preferred not to examine too closely— that he didn't see her arrive until someone's shadow stopped beside the table.

"Are you Hiccup Haddock?"

Hiccup looked up, and for one entire second forgot how language was supposed to work.

The woman in front of him wore a pale dress, almost white, that seemed woven from the same light as frost, with a cape that moved as if it had a life of its own even in the stillness of the restaurant, and loose silver hair falling over her shoulders. He didn't recognize her at first —Hiccup didn't have much practice recognizing anyone from universes other than his own, beyond his two closest friends— but he did recognize, immediately and without any ambiguity, that he was looking at someone absurdly, unfairly attractive.

"I... yes. That's me." He stood up so fast the chair screeched against the floor, and held out a hand with a formality he hoped would hide his nerves. "Hiccup. From Berk."

"Elsa." She shook his hand briefly, with a firm, cold grip —literally cold, something Hiccup decided not to comment on yet. "From Arendelle. Although, technically, I spend more time in the Enchanted Forest these days than in the castle."

"Right, you're the fifth spirit, aren't you?"

Something like a faint surprise, almost imperceptible, crossed Elsa's face. "You know my story?"

"I know someone who knows someone who knows you." Hiccup scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd had since he was a teenager. "It's a long chain of multiversal connections. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker with access to privileged information. I just have friends with a very good memory for interdimensional gossip."

Elsa didn't smile, but she didn't seem alarmed either, which Hiccup decided to count as a small victory.

They sat down.

The waiter appeared briefly to leave two menus and disappear just as quickly, and for the first few minutes, Hiccup did what he knew how to do: try, with all the sincere clumsiness he had available, to build a conversation out of nothing.

"So, is the Enchanted Forest as magical as it sounds, or is it one of those things that loses its charm once you actually have to live there every day?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated good or complicated bad?"

"Complicated."

Hiccup waited, giving the sentence room to become something more, but Elsa simply took her glass of water and drank, effectively closing that line of conversation with the same efficiency with which she seemed to close all the others.

It wasn't the first time that night that Hiccup felt like he was pushing on a door that didn't want to open. Elsa answered —never rudely, never ignoring him completely— but every answer came short, measured, with no obvious hook to continue on. As if she'd spent a long time practicing the specific art of not giving anyone too much to work with.

Undeterred, he decided to change strategy.

"Okay, let's start with something less existential. What do you do when you're not busy being a part-time elemental spirit?"

"I skate."

"On ice?"

Elsa's neutral tone shifted to a wrinkled one, as if the "flowing" conversation they were having had just crashed into a question whose answer was so obvious that being asked at all seemed ridiculous.

"Obviously... Dumb question." Hiccup smiled, undeterred. "Anything else? Books, music, some hobby that doesn't involve absolute control over a force of nature?"

"I read."

"What do you read?"

"Whatever I find."

Hiccup nodded slowly, processing the almost Olympic brevity of the answers, and although the normal, rational thing would have been to end the date, given that the other person didn't seem to be cooperating, there was one detail.

The words "normal" and "rational" didn't exactly go well with Hiccup — "stubborn" and "hardheaded" fit a lot better; he'd managed to get Vikings and dragons to live in peace, so a pretty girl who couldn't hold a conversation wasn't going to be much of a problem, so he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Favorite food?"

"Don't have one."

"Favorite color?" he pressed, already half-enjoying his own persistence.

"Depends on the day."

"Favorite season?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"A little, yes."

For the first time, something that could almost be called amusement crossed Elsa's face, though it vanished so fast Hiccup wasn't entirely sure he hadn't imagined it, and he kept trying to build a conversation.

Elsa looked at him, with that same silent evaluation as before, as if deciding whether the comment deserved a reaction.

"Do you always talk this much?" she asked, without any real accusation in her tone.

"Only when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"Because I've spent ten minutes trying to get more than three words out of you in a row, and I'm starting to suspect you have a daily syllable limit you've almost used up on me."

Something changed on Elsa's face —brief, almost imperceptible, but real: the corner of her mouth lifted slightly, a small, genuine smile that vanished almost as fast as it had appeared, as if she wasn't entirely sure she had permission to use it.

"I don't have a syllable limit."

"Could've fooled me."

"Today I'm at..." she paused, as if calculating, "forty-seven. I've still got a few left."

Hiccup laughed, genuinely surprised, and for a moment, brief but real, the table felt a little less like an interrogation and a little more like two people who, against all odds, might actually manage to have a real conversation.

Hiccup looked down at the menu, searching for something —anything— to give him a neutral topic to keep going, but the options in front of him were written in an elegant typeface with names he didn't recognize at all: consommé of lunar essence, tartare of something that sounded dangerously like a banned ingredient in three different universes, a "deconstruction" of something that was apparently supposed to be mentally reconstructed while eating it.

He glanced discreetly at the neighboring tables, looking for some visual reference of whatever people were eating, and found tiny plates, served with almost surgical precision: three bites of something shiny placed on a sauce that covered more of the plate than the food itself.

In Berk, a portion of food was generally measured by whether it was enough to feed a full-grown dragon in addition to the person. This, he suspected, wouldn't even be enough to feed Toothless on a bad day.

Elsa watched him study the menu with an expression that closed off little by little, reading —with a precision that felt painfully familiar— the long pause, the gaze drifting toward their surroundings, like the first recognizable symptoms of someone looking for the exit.

"The stellar essence tartare is quick," she said suddenly, pointing at something on her own menu without needing to look at it. "It's served in five minutes, eaten in two. If you want, we can order that and get this over with before it gets more awkward than it already is."

Hiccup looked back at her, genuinely thrown. "What?"

"You don't have to pretend." Her voice didn't sound hurt, exactly, just resigned, like someone who'd accepted the pattern a long time ago and preferred to speed it up rather than drag it out. "I can order something quick for both of us, so we don't waste any more time than necessary."

"I wasn't pretending." Hiccup straightened up, with an urgency that surprised even himself.

Elsa looked at him, but before she could say anything else, the waiter reappeared at the table, notepad in hand, and his gaze landed on Elsa with an immediate recognition that didn't escape Hiccup's notice.

"Good evening again, Miss Elsa." The waiter smiled, with the easy familiarity of someone who'd served that same table too many times. "The usual?"

The silence that followed lasted, probably, less than two real seconds, but to Hiccup it seemed to stretch much longer than that.

He watched Elsa's face change —not dramatically, but in a precise, unmistakable way: her jaw a little tighter, her shoulders a little straighter, as if she were physically reinforcing a wall that already existed. The question, innocent in any other context, had done exactly what Elsa had spent the whole night trying to keep Hiccup from seeing: laid bare exactly how many times she'd sat at that same table, with someone else, ending up in the company of yet another failure.

"No, thank you," she said, already standing up, with a calm that didn't quite manage to hide what was underneath. "I think we're done here."

"What? No, Elsa, wait—"

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[92-guy]

The Queen and the Knight

pairing: Elsa x Hiccup summary: Elsa, overwhelmed by suitors who only seek to exploit Arendelle, receives a visit from King Thorgrim, who arrives accompanied by Hiccup and his Dragon Riders to offer military protection in exchange for resources. From their first encounter, a silent tension arises between the queen and Hiccup, which they both misinterpret as mutual disinterest, though in reality an attraction is growing, manifesting itself in small gestures: a cup of hot chocolate, a late-night conversation in the study, stolen glances during training and at the banquet. Everything changes when Hiccup is injured after rescuing a group of hostages from a pirate, and Elsa, caring for him, can no longer deny her feelings. During an intimate dinner she organizes to thank him, the accumulated tension finally explodes in a passionate kiss that leads them, unable to contain themselves, to the queen's private chambers. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, forbidden love, Hiccup is a knight, no powers AU, direct to action, almost no dialogues, unprotected p in v sex, creampie. wc: 2k words. a/n: Hey, this is just a part of a one-shot I wrote for AO3. If you're interested, you can read the full story and what happens before and after. Enjoy!

Hiccup rested his forehead against hers, his lashes brushing her skin.

"Your... your Majesty..." he murmured, the word rough, wrecked.

Elsa started to kiss his cheeks repeatedly, moving downwards to his chin, then his neck—each press of her lips feather-light, hesitant, as if she were mapping uncharted territory. Hiccup exhaled sharply when her mouth grazed the pulse point beneath his jaw, his fingers tightening reflexively in her hair. Hiccup had to check again in both ways trying to make sure no one was spying or looking.

But Elsa didn’t care. Not anymore. Not when his breath hitched under her lips, when his hands—calloused and scarred—tightened around her waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. She kissed him again, harder this time, her mouth slanting over his with a desperation that surprised even her. Hiccup groaned into her, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her flush against him. She could feel the tension in him—the restraint, the hesitation—but then her tongue brushed his, and something in him *broke*.

His hands slid up her back, one tangling in her hair while the other pressed low against her spine, arching her into him. The kiss turned feverish, messy, their teeth clashing as Elsa bit at his lower lip, earning a sharp gasp. Hiccup retaliated by nipping her throat, his mouth hot against her pulse point, and Elsa’s knees nearly buckled.

“Your Majesty—” he panted against her skin, his voice ragged. “We can’t—someone could—”

She silenced him with another kiss, her fingers fumbling with the laces of his borrowed tunic.

“Then follow me,” she murmured, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

Before he could protest, she caught his hand and pulled him toward the hidden servant’s passage—the one only she and Anna knew about.

Hiccup hesitated at the threshold, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Your Majesty—”

Elsa silenced him with another searing kiss, her fingers gripping his tunic to drag him inside. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in the dim, candlelit warmth of her chambers. Hiccup’s breath hitched as she backed him against the wood, her hands sliding up his chest.

He groaned, surrendering, his hands finally finding purchase—one tangling in her hair, the other gripping her waist. Then, suddenly, he took control. In one swift motion, he hauled her up by the thighs, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carried her deeper into the room. Elsa gasped into his mouth, her back arching as he kissed her with bruising intensity, his lips and tongue relentless.

Her fingers scrabbled at the laces of his tunic, clumsy with need, until the fabric gaped open, revealing the bandages beneath—stark white against his battle-worn skin. The sight of his scars, the raw evidence of his sacrifices, sent a pulse of heat straight to her core. She didn’t recoil. Instead, she dragged her nails lightly down his chest, tracing the ridges of old wounds, feeling him shudder under her touch.

Hiccup’s breath hitched when her fingers dipped beneath the bandages, teasing the edge of the fresh wound.

"Elsa—" he growled, no more "Your Majesty", just "Elsa". but she silenced him with another kiss, her tongue sliding against his as she pushed the tunic off his shoulders. The fabric pooled at his elbows, trapping his arms for a fleeting moment—long enough for her to press him back onto the bed, straddling his hips with a smirk.

"Wait," she whispered, pulling away from him, "give me a moment to take off my dress."

But Hiccup’s hands shot out, gripping her hips with bruising force, dragging her back down against him. The heat of his bare chest seared through the thin fabric of her gown, his cock already hard against her thigh.

"No," he rasped, his voice rough with need.

"I want you *now*."

Before she could protest, his fingers tangled in the delicate embroidery of her bodice and yanked.

The sound of the dress tearing was clear and filled the room. There was no difficulty; Elsa felt Hiccup's heat against her body, now with no barrier between them.

Elsa couldn't believe what he had just done. That dress was very expensive, she gasped when Hiccup ripped her gown, exposing her lace-trimmed silk undergarments—the ones she'd chosen carefully that morning, though she'd never admit it. For a breathless second, she froze, her skin prickling with the sudden exposure. Then Hiccup's mouth crashed against hers again, swallowing her gasp, his calloused hands slid down, caressing the cup of her bra that covered her breasts, kneading them, teasing her nipples through the fabric, making her moan into his mouth.

His touch was rough yet reverent, fingers digging into her hips as he hauled her flush against him. The friction of his rough tunic against her bare thighs sent sparks up her spine. She could feel him—*all* of him—hard and insistent against her stomach. Elsa whimpered, her fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat.

"Hiccup—" she gasped, but his name dissolved into a moan as his teeth grazed her collarbone.

One hand slipped beneath the torn fabric of her dress, his palm scorching against the bare skin of her back. The other slid lower, fingers tracing the edge of her panties before dipping beneath, teasing the damp heat between her thighs. Elsa jerked against him, her breath coming in ragged bursts. She'd never been touched like this—never *wanted* to be touched like this—but the way his fingers circled her clit, slow and deliberate, had her seeing stars.

Then he was moving, shifting her onto her back with surprising strength for a man still healing. His mouth followed the path of his hands, kissing down her stomach, nipping at the sensitive skin just above her waistband. Elsa tensed, her thighs instinctively clamping around his head as he hooked his fingers into her panties and dragged them down.

"Hiccup—wait—" she choked out, but he didn't stop, his breath hot against her exposed folds.

The first lick sent a jolt through her entire body. Elsa arched off the bed with a strangled cry, her hands flying to his hair. She'd heard whispers about this—*filthy* whispers, the kind that made her cheeks burn—but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of Hiccup's tongue sliding through her slick folds, lapping at her like a man starved. He groaned against her, the vibration sending another shockwave of pleasure through her. Elsa’s thighs trembled, her body torn between clamping shut around his head and spreading wider—she’d never felt so exposed, so *known*, as she did with his breath hot against her most intimate place. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, holding her open as his tongue traced slow, torturous circles around her clit. Every flick sent sparks up her spine, every suck made her hips jerk uncontrollably.

“Hiccup—” His name spilled from her lips in a broken moan, her fingers tightening in his hair as he dragged his tongue flat against her slit, savoring her taste like it was the finest wine.

She’d been taught this was obscene—that a queen’s body was a vessel for duty, not pleasure. But the way he worshiped her, the filthy, wet sounds of his mouth working between her legs, *ruined* her. His nose brushed her clit as he licked deeper, his tongue thrusting inside her just enough to tease before retreating to swirl around her aching bud again. Elsa whimpered, her back bowing off the bed, her cunt pulsing around nothing.

“Please—*please*—” She didn’t even know what she was begging for, only that she’d die if he stopped. 

Hiccup groaned against her pussy, the vibration sending another shockwave through her. He dragged his tongue flat and slow up her slit, savoring her taste—sweet and salt and something *hers*—before sucking her clit between his lips. Elsa’s thighs trembled violently, her hips jerking against his mouth as he flicked his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves.

“Oh—*fuck*—” The curse tore from her throat, raw and ragged. She’d *never* spoken like this, never imagined *wanting* to, but the way his tongue lashed her clit, relentless and hungry, unraveled her.

Hiccup plunged his mouth even deeper into Elsa's cunt, his tongue spearing inside her tight heat before dragging back up to flick mercilessly against her swollen clit. Elsa's thighs shook violently around his head, her fingers twisting in his hair—half trying to pull him away from the unbearable pleasure, half holding him hostage against her dripping pussy. She'd been raised to believe this was depraved, that a queen's body existed for duty rather than pleasure, but the way his tongue curled around her clit made her see stars.

"Gods—*Hiccup*—" Her voice broke as his teeth grazed her sensitive bud, sending white-hot sparks through her pelvis. He groaned against her folds, the vibration making her hips jerk uncontrollably. His nose pressed into her mound while his tongue worked her in slow, filthy circles—each lick sending another shockwave through her trembling body. She could feel herself dripping onto his chin, could hear the obscene wet sounds as he devoured her like a man starved.

When his fingers replaced his tongue—thick digits plunging into her tight cunt while his mouth sucked her clit—Elsa's back arched off the bed with a shattered cry. Her cunt clenched around his fingers, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Hiccup drank her down greedily, his tongue lapping at her pulsing slit as she came apart, her thighs clamping around his head like a vise.

She barely had time to recover before he was crawling up her body, his lips glistening with her slick. Elsa whimpered at the taste of herself on his tongue when he kissed her—deep and filthy—his cock rock-hard against her thigh. "You're *beautiful*," he rasped against her mouth, his fingers already circling her clit again. Elsa gasped, her hips bucking as fresh pleasure coiled low in her belly. "Hiccup, I can't—"

"I know my lady," Hiccup growled against her throat, his calloused hands sliding beneath the shredded remains of her gown. With one sharp tug, the fabric gave way completely, pooling around her hips as he dragged it down her thighs. Elsa gasped as cool air kissed her bare skin—exposed completely now except for the delicate lace of her undergarments, which Hiccup peeled away with agonizing slowness, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip before snapping the waistband and letting them fall. She shuddered when his palms skimmed up her bare legs, his thumbs brushing the inside of her thighs before spreading them wider. The bandages around his ribs strained as he knelt between her legs, his gaze raking over her naked body with a hunger that made her pulse spike.

"Fuck," he breathed, his fingers digging into her hips as he dragged her toward the edge of the bed. "You're perfect."

Elsa barely had time to register the compliment before Hiccup was stripping off his own clothes with rough, impatient movements. His tunic hit the floor first, followed by his trousers—leaving him gloriously bare except for the stark white bandages wrapped around his torso. His cock jutted out thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum as he stroked himself once, his eyes locked on hers.

Before Elsa could speak, Hiccup bent and hooked his arms beneath her knees, hauling her up against his chest with a grunt. The movement pulled at his wounds—she could see the flicker of pain in his eyes—but then her thighs clamped around his hips, her wet cunt pressing against the length of his cock, and his groan drowned out everything else.

"Hold on to me," he rasped, his hands gripping her ass as he adjusted his stance.

"What...-" Elsa tries to ask, although her body acted on its own, wrapping her arms around Hiccup's shoulders as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His bare chest—still wrapped in bandages—pressed against her own, the rough fabric scratching her sensitive nipples as he adjusted his grip beneath her thighs. She could feel his cock, hot and hard, pressing against her stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum on her skin.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[92-guy]

One of my favorite tropes, and one I most enjoy associating with Hiccup x Elsa, is the idea that she is a force of nature far more powerful than she could ever imagine, while he is just an incredibly stubborn man.

I find it interesting to see Elsa as the one who falls in love first, captivated by the "ordinary" things Hiccup does—cooking, sewing, drawing, even simply breathing, or sometimes bleeding. The idea that someone with so much power could be drawn to the heroic qualities of a man who does good not because there is something to gain from it, but because he genuinely and consciously wants to help others.

She would find his way of loving fascinating. He doesn't touch her with fear or caution; instead, he treats her as if he were the one meant to protect her. There is something deeply compelling in that.

Hiccup, in turn, would see Elsa as a leader who thinks with a cool head, who restrains herself to avoid hurting others, and who helps keep him strong—not only when it comes to fighting, but also when it comes to protecting the people who depend on him.

The celebration began even before the dust had settled.

The inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest surrounded Elsa almost immediately. Grateful voices were raised everywhere. Some congratulated her, others excitedly recounted what they had seen during the mission, and more than one insisted that the forest once again owed them its tranquility.

Elsa tried to respond with a smile. However, Elsa realized that the man in dragon scale armor had disappeared, she saw him cross through some bushes with urgency, as if something was insisting that she come closer. Although Elsa wanted to ignore it, something called her too, worried? It was something I hadn't felt in a long time. Following the trail she had seen Hiccup on, she clearly remembered Hiccup's arm around her as they turned down the hill. It was unnecessary, she has fallen from higher places and without a single scratch, but Hiccup couldn't stop being a hero for just a minute.

She noticed that Hiccup's helmet was on the ground, not left delicately as he always used to do and criticize when they didn't; Now it was lying on the ground in despair.

Then she saw him, kneeling before the river’s edge, cutting a scrap of cloth with his dagger—the blade flashing silver in the afternoon light. Hiccup first wiped the blood from his face and using the reflection of the lake he tried to clean the wound, but it was very complicated to do. The river was cold, but not nearly cold enough for a proper compress—she knew that instinctively, the way one knows the taste of winter air before the first snow falls.

Hiccup heard Elsa's footsteps approaching him and turned his head. They both saw each other for a moment, but Elsa did not flinch, she continued walking towards him and calmly and politely sat down next to him, she raised her hand delicately, palm up. "May I?" she asked, her voice quiet but carrying the weight of command—not the sharp-edged kind, but the kind that glaciers wield when they carve mountains.

Hiccup hesitated, fingers tightening around the damp cloth he'd torn from his tunic. Blood dripped from his temple onto his wrist, stark against the pale skin. He could feel the water from the lake seeping into the fabric, lukewarm and useless. "It's not—" he started, but Elsa’s gaze cut through his protest like winter wind.

Hiccup sighs and gives her the cloth, his fingers brushing hers—briefly, accidentally—but the contact sends a jolt up his arm anyway. Elsa takes it without comment, turning the fabric over in her hands. She exhales, and frost spirals from her fingertips, crawling across the cloth in delicate, branching patterns. The water stiffens into tiny crystals, the linen stiffening with cold. Hiccup watches, transfixed, as her magic works—not the wild, explosive bursts he’s seen in battle, but something precise, controlled. The way a blacksmith might temper steel.

She presses the compress to his temple, and the cold bites—sharp, immediate—but then the pain dulls, replaced by a numbness that spreads like ink in water. Elsa’s fingers are careful, methodical, dabbing at the cut with a gentleness that belies the ice in her veins.

Hiccup tries not to flinch, but his breath hitches anyway, trying to focus on anything but the cold press of the cloth against his wound. It's futile. His gaze drifts—first to Elsa's fingers, long and pale, moving with the precision of a surgeon. Then higher, tracing the delicate bones of her wrist, the faint blue veins beneath skin like porcelain. He notices everything: the way the sunlight catches in the loose strands of her platinum hair, silver-white against the muted green of the forest. There are freckles dusted across her nose, so faint he might've missed them if he weren’t staring—tiny constellations, like snowflakes frozen in time.

Her skin is flawless, unmarred by scars or sun, and it strikes him as impossible. He's spent years among warriors and dragons; everyone bears marks. But Elsa—she's carved from something else, something untouched. He wonders, absurdly, if she’d feel as cold as she looks.

Then Hiccup looks at her eyes—ice blue, impossibly clear, like glacial water frozen mid-cascade. The rest of her had seemed untouchable, but this—this was worse. Her gaze held the weight of centuries, depths he couldn’t fathom. He’d seen dragons with eyes like that, ancient and knowing, but never human. Never someone who looked at him like he was worth seeing.

Elsa, for her part, didn’t notice at first, was trying—and failing—to focus solely on the task. His skin was warmer than she’d expected. Alive in a way that defied the winter in her veins. She traced the cut with careful precision. The blood was darker than she remembered—human blood, not the shimmering essence of spirits. She’d almost forgotten how fragile skin could be, how easily it split. Her own hadn’t bled in years. But Hiccup’s did. His pulse thrummed beneath her fingertips, warm and insistent, a rhythm at odds with the stillness she carried.

Then she felt it—the weight of his stare. Not the awed glances of villagers or the wary eyes of those who feared her magic. This was different. Unflinching. Curious. She lowered her gaze and met his—green, not the vibrant hue of summer leaves but the muted shade of moss clinging to winter stone. Alive. Tired. So painfully human. And his eyes—gods, his eyes.

They stayed like that for a moment longer than either intended—locked in a silence that felt heavier than the forest around them. Elsa then got lost in Hiccup's eyes, they were not perfect, they had imperfections, imperfections that made them unique, imperfectly perfect, something she had never seen before, she found it… beautiful.

The pain flared then, sharp enough to make his vision white out for a second. He gritted his teeth, fingers digging into his knee, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. He didn't want to look away and lose a moment of Elsa's gaze—those impossible eyes, the way they flickered like sunlight through ice. And it seemed they were getting closer—or maybe he was leaning in. He wasn't sure anymore.

Until finally the pain won and Hiccup flinched—a sharp gasp escaping him before he could bite it back. His hand jerked instinctively toward his temple, fingers brushing Elsa's wrist as he recoiled. The contact was brief, accidental, but it shattered the fragile stillness between them like thin ice underfoot. Elsa's fingers stilled mid-motion, the cold cloth pressed against his wound suddenly forgotten. For a heartbeat, neither breathed.

"I—" Hiccup began, but the words died in his throat when Elsa withdrew her hand. She looked away first, breaking the spell with deliberate grace.

"We should go back," she murmured, her voice softer than snowfall. "The others will be waiting." She folded the bloodstained cloth neatly—too neatly—as if it were a shield between them. "The wound isn't deep. It'll heal."

Hiccup reached for her wrist before he could stop himself. His fingers closed around her sleeve, careful not to touch skin. "Wait." The word sounded almost like a plea, rough-edged and unplanned. He swallowed, throat dry. "Please… stay." The request lingered between them, fragile as snowfall on bare branches.

Elsa hesitated. She should leave—should pull her hand from his grasp, stand, and walk back to her people, but she didn´t, instead she sighed and sat back down, closer this time. Close enough that Hiccup could see the faint rise and fall of her chest beneath the intricate embroidery of her gown.

Elsa placed the palm of her hand on Hiccup's cheek that was free—half to hold him and half to feel the warmth of his skin—and pressed the cloth back against his temple. Their knees brushed, barely, but neither moved away. The fabric hissed faintly as frost crystallized along its edges, but the cold didn't matter now. What mattered was the way Hiccup's breath hitched—not from pain, not this time—when her thumb traced the arch of his cheekbone, smearing away a streak of dirt. She told herself it was practical. Necessary. A lie so thin the wind could've torn it apart.

Hiccup, for his part, had stopped pretending to look at the wound altogether. Her gaze traced the curve of Elsa's lower lip, the way it trembled when she exhaled, like snow shaken from a branch. They both exchanged glances appreciating each other's minute details, until they both felt they were getting too close, but there were no complaints.

[92-guy]

Elsa catching her breath, pressing a hand to her chest as if to steady her racing heart. Her fingers trembled—whether from exhaustion or exhilaration, she couldn’t tell. The enormous, moss-covered guardian of the glade had nearly crushed them both before vanishing into the earth as suddenly as it had appeared.

Hiccup braced his hands on his knees, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. "That was incredible."

Elsa’s laughter bubbled up again, bright and uncontained, and Hiccup joined her without hesitation. It was the kind of laughter that came after brushes with death—too loud, too sharp, edged with the giddy disbelief of having survived. She wiped at her eyes, still catching her breath, and when she looked up, Hiccup was watching her.

Something in his expression shifted. The laughter faded between them, leaving only the quiet of the forest and the unspoken weight of everything they hadn’t said. Elsa’s breath caught—not from fear, not from exhaustion, but from the sudden, undeniable pull between them.

Hiccup moved first—or maybe Elsa did. She couldn’t tell anymore, couldn’t parse where her own actions ended and his began. One moment, they were breathless and grinning, the next, his hands were cradling her face, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his armor as she pulled him closer. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was wildfire and relief, a collision of everything they’d held back for months. His lips were warm against hers, insistent, and Elsa kissed him back like she’d been starving for it.

The kiss lasted seconds—or maybe minutes—before Elsa suddenly stiffened, her fingers uncurling from his suit as if burned. She pulled back sharply, her breath ragged, eyes wide with something like panic. "I—" Her voice cracked. "I shouldn't have done that." She turned away before Hiccup could see the flush spreading across her cheeks, her hands rising to cover her mouth as if she could erase the touch of him. "I'm sorry."

Hiccup blinked, his own lips still tingling. "Oh—no, I'm sorry," he stammered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Did I—was that bad?"

"It's not that," Elsa interrupted, her voice strained. She still wouldn't look at him, her arms wrapping tightly around herself like armor. "It's not... you." A brittle laugh escaped her. "It's me. Or—no, it's this." She finally turned, her gaze flickering to his before darting away again. "You’re human, Hiccup. And I’m—" She gestured helplessly at herself, at the shimmer of frost still clinging to her fingertips from the fight. "I’m not. Not anymore."

Hiccup’s brow furrowed, his hands clenching at his sides like he wanted to reach for her but didn’t dare. "So what? That’s never stopped us before. We’ve fought side by side for months—you’ve trusted me with everything. The forest, the spirits, your family—"

"And that’s exactly why this can’t happen!" Elsa’s voice cracked, sharp as winter wind. She took a step back, her boots crunching over frozen leaves. "The spirits barely tolerate that I work with a human. If they knew—" She shook her head, her silver-blonde hair catching the fading light. "You don't deserve that... You don't deserve..." Elsa paused for a moment as if she didn't want to accept reality "This..." She pointed at herself entirely with disappointment.

"Where you come from, they would see me as a witch," Elsa whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of centuries-old fears. But Hiccup didn’t flinch—he stepped closer, his hands finding her waist before she could retreat. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her dress, a searing contrast to the chill of her skin. "I prefer to see you as a goddess," he murmured, and then he was pulling her in, his mouth crashing against hers before she could protest.

Elsa gasped against his lips, her hands flying up to push against his chest—but the moment Hiccup’s tongue slid against the seam of her mouth, hot and insistent, her resolve shattered. The contrast was intoxicating—his warmth flooding her icy breath, his tongue tracing the cool contours of her own as if mapping the taste of winter itself. A shudder ran through her, her fingers curling into his tunic instead of shoving him away. She melted into him, her body arching instinctively closer, her arms winding around his neck to deepen the kiss. Hiccup groaned low in his throat, one hand tangling in her hair, the other pressing firmly against the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. The heat of his body seeped into hers, thawing something she hadn’t realized was frozen solid.

The kiss was feverish, desperate—a collision of hunger and longing that neither of them had dared name. Elsa’s nails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck, eliciting a sharp inhale from Hiccup before he angled her head back further, his lips slanting over hers with possessive intensity. She could feel the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath her fingertips, the way his breath hitched when she nipped lightly at his lower lip. It was madness. It was bliss. And for the first time in years, Elsa let herself forget duty, forget consequence—there was only this, only him, only the wildfire sparking between their tangled breaths.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, both of them were breathing raggedly. Elsa’s lips tingled, still warm from his touch, and Hiccup’s gaze was dark with something unspoken. She opened her mouth—to protest, to apologize, to something—but no words came.

The firelight flickered against the gathered circle of Northuldra elders, casting long shadows as they wove tales of ancient spirits and forgotten winters. Hiccup sat apart—just enough to be polite, just enough to feel the distance. He wasn’t part of this world, not really, and the weight of that knowledge settled heavily between his ribs. The laughter of the tribe washed over him, warm and bright, but it was a sound he observed, not shared. His fingers absently traced the edge of his prosthetic, the cool metal grounding him.

Then—soft footsteps in the snow. A familiar chill, subtle but undeniable, prickled the back of his neck. He didn’t need to turn to know it was her.

“May I sit with you?” Elsa’s voice was quieter than he’d ever heard it, barely above the crackle of the fire.

Hiccup’s breath hitched. He nodded, scooting over on the log without trusting himself to speak. She settled beside him, the space between them painfully deliberate. Outwardly, she was the picture of composure—her spine straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her gaze fixed ahead as if enraptured by the storyteller’s words. But Hiccup knew her. Knew the way her fingers trembled just slightly against her knee. Knew the tension in her jaw, the too-careful way she exhaled.

The silence between them stretched like the frozen tundra—vast and unyielding. Elsa kept her eyes fixed on the storyteller, her posture flawless, her expression serene. Only the slight tightening of her fingers in her lap betrayed her. Hiccup pretended to listen too, but his thoughts were a whirlwind, every nerve in his body hyper-aware of her proximity. The space between their thighs on the log might as well have been an ocean.

A gust of wind sent sparks spiraling from the fire, and Elsa flinched—just barely, but Hiccup noticed. He turned his head slightly, catching the way the firelight danced across her profile, gilding her eyelashes and the curve of her lips. She was so close he could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat. His own heartbeat echoed it, a frantic rhythm he was certain the entire tribe could hear.

Elsa shifted, her boot brushing against his prosthetic. She jerked her foot back as if burned, but not before Hiccup felt it—the briefest touch, electric and deliberate. His breath caught. He dared a glance sideways and found her staring resolutely ahead, her cheeks tinged pink. Slowly, so slowly it might have been an accident, he let his hand drift closer to hers where it rested on the log between them.

Elsa’s breath hitched. She didn’t pull away.

The firelight cast long shadows between them, the storyteller’s voice fading into the background like distant snowfall. Hiccup’s fingers twitched where they rested near hers, the space between them charged with everything unspoken. He could feel the cold radiating from Elsa’s skin, a contrast to the warmth of the flames, and it took every ounce of his restraint not to close the distance.

Elsa exhaled softly, her breath misting in the crisp air. Her pinky finger shifted imperceptibly, brushing against the rough grain of the log—closer to him. Hiccup held his breath. Was it deliberate? A mistake? He glanced sideways, but her face gave nothing away, her gaze still fixed ahead, lips slightly parted as if lost in thought.

Then—her finger moved again. Just a fraction. The barest graze against the side of his hand.

Hiccup’s pulse roared in his ears. He didn’t dare look at her. Slowly, achingly slowly, he let his own pinky stretch toward hers, the tip just barely touching. Elsa went utterly still. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought she might pull away—but then her finger curled, hooking gently around his.

[rotten-m3]

I like httyd

[92-guy]

Hiccup couldn’t miss this opportunity, maybe he could, but he just didn’t want to.

He worked overtime, saved as much money as he could, sold as much as he had, did and let do just to have the opportunity to be there, because she would be there.

As soon as he knew that she would come to his city to give a concert, even reading the news made his heart beat faster, his breathing accelerated and his pupils dilated, seeing her and her city in the same post.

He even checked that it was not fake news made with AI, (he could not identify if he was more nervous waiting for confirmation or when he knew that it was true).

It was the day when the tickets went on sale, nervous and with sweaty hands he could not avoid the involuntary movement of his own foot. When the tickets were on sale he didn’t think twice, nor did he check the prices (he knew them by heart), the first row, he didn’t care about all the sacrifice he made and what he stopped doing, everything would be worth it and more if he can only see her with his own eyes. The tickets were in the front row, but in an almost imperceptible place that would go unnoticed, but for Hiccup it was the happiest day of his life so far, he already had the tickets, his adventure was just beginning.

When it was the day of the concert, he rationed his food, learned his digestive period just so he didn’t have to go to the bathroom during the concert, and didn’t miss a single moment. Nervous, and sweating, even when the concert had not started, he felt that he would faint as soon as he heard her voice.

Angelic voice, which seemed that not even the headphones or horns could do justice to his voice.

And then he saw her.

Rapunzel…

So many qualities that he hadn’t looked for.

Someone who could only live in his dreams.

She made him feel like he was living in a fairy tale.

She must have some power inside that is what makes her feel these emotions inside his chest, that they can’t stay alone in his chest, they run through his stomach, his lungs until they reach his throat and his brain that sometimes forgot to blink so as not to miss a single moment of her.

She exists... and she doesn’t even know how good she looks, he has seen her hundreds of times and yet she can make him saying “Wow...” with her clothing that is a 10/10 from head to toe.

His smile from ear to ear as if he were a child with a new toy.

Without realizing it, half of the concert had already arrived, Rapunzel paused with the music and walked around the stage watching her audience, starting from the right, just the opposite side of where Hiccup was.

Hiccup didn’t feel bad, not at all, this day was already his favorite day, because he could listen to her and see her so closely, he wanted nothing more than to continue enjoying her, listen to her, see her, appreciate her, besides what chance is there that she looks at him?

Then his heart stopped at the same time that she stopped in his direction.

“Well well well, who are you?” Rapunzel pointed in Hiccup’s direction.

Hiccup didn’t want to make a fool of himself by answering when she hadn’t spoken to him, he waited for someone else to answer, he looked to his sides and they looked at him, he even looked back from his both back sides just to make sure he wasn’t referring to someone behind him.

“M—me?” He hesitated in such a low voice that if it hadn’t been because he pointed his finger at himself, he tilted his head down, raising an eyebrow in his face of disbelief, he wouldn’t have heard the answer of his life.

“Brown hair, green shirt, and dumb expression, yes, I think it’s you, darling” Hiccup’s heart had stopped again, it was a dream, it had to be a dream, but he didn’t want to wake up and if it was already a dream, he was going to live The dream.

“H-HICCUP!” He shouted putting his hands around to his mouth so that his name reached her ears. He knew it had come to him when she made the same expression that everyone made when he said his name to them, but in her it looked better than the others.

The dancers who were next to Rapunzel looked at him with contempt and disbelief, covering their mouths while they seemed to criticize him to Rapunzel in the ear and she just laughed.

“Okay girls, I have to say, most men here are very cute, but you Hiccup, you’re hot as hell” Rapunzel looked at him with the same look he only saw in dreams, dying her lower lip, giving him a look from head to toe and finishing with a wink.

Which was the moment that was repeated over and over again until the concert was over.

Rapunzel ready to leave said goodbye sending kisses in the air to the spectators and one especially for Hiccup who had the same expression from their previous interaction, she had noticed him, and sent a direct flying kiss to him and with her hand she said goodbye to him.

As she disappeared from the stage, he looked like he had just lived a dream, but he was already awake.

[princessofghosts-posts]

Rewatching HTTYD doomed me because it brought me to rewatch Tangled and then Brave and then Rise of the Guardians and now I'm deep into the RotBTD fandom obsession again. What a good time to be a multi shipper.

[92-guy]

I hope that some day our Gods can become friends

*Creating a new headcanon*

[snapmite1998]

Hiccup x Rapunzel Gibslythe ship template

Big spoon: Hiccup, naturally. He’s taller than Rapunzel, and definitely would want to hold her close while they sleep together in bed, on the couch, or wherever they can. And Rapunzel would absolutely adore feeling his long, strong arms around her, they would give her a sense of safety and security.

Lending/Borrowing clothes: Rapunzel would definitely take full advantage of wearing Hiccup’s tunic-like shirts or hoodies that are made by Valka, especially if it’s cold. She not only loves the material of the Viking inspired clothing, but also adores Hiccup’s natural scent entwined in the clothing, giving her a sense of staying close to Hiccup even if they aren’t together in person.

Using pet names: We know Hiccup calls Astrid “Milady” and Toothless “Bud,” so I think he’d have a handful of pet names for Rapunzel. He could call her “Raps, Punzie, Sunflower, or Sundrop.” I put Rapunzel in the middle of this on the scale, because she may or may not give Hiccup a pet name (leave feedback on your opinion!)

Introvert & Extrovert: Hiccup would’ve been a natural introvert, having been bullied growing up, but having had enough of being a punching bag for bullies, Hiccup would go to the gym and take self defense classes, courtesy of his dad, Stoick, whose police commissioner of New Berk. Now confident, Hiccup enjoys hanging out with his friends, but also very much enjoys his privacy. Rapunzel is more extroverted, she wants to meet new people and go out and try new things all the time, but like Hiccup, she also enjoys her privacy.

Affection through words and actions: Both of them would show affection through words and actions. Hiccup would constantly call Rapunzel beautiful inside and out especially when she’s feeling like she’s less than she’s worth. And Rapunzel would bake Hiccup something sweet or cook something savory to cheer him up whenever he’s feeling down. They would definitely compliment each other in one way shape or form and it would only strengthen their relationship.

Confession of feelings: Hiccup would’ve made the first move. Years of knowing Rapunzel and seeing her go through countless heartbreaks would only bring them closer together because he would always be the one she runs to for encouragement and support. Tired of seeing guys break her heart, Hiccup would confess his feelings to her through sheer willpower and at first fear she might not reciprocate his feelings, but is reassured when she would kiss him and confess that she had always waited for his confession, but thought he didn’t like her in that way.

Overprotective/Chill going: Both of them are chill going, of course, they would be very protective of each other and communicate on what makes them comfortable, Hiccup more so. But they’re in love with each other and trust each other enough that they know neither one of them is going to cheat.

Relationship experience: They would’ve come out of previous relationships that failed because they secretly hoped that they would be dating each other, so it would be 50/50 in terms of relationship experience.

I love this pairing so much, if Hiccup wasn’t dating/married to Astrid then Rapunzel would definitely be the woman he would be with. I’m thinking about doing a NSFW alphabet for these two, if you wanna see that, let me know.

[92-guy]

I love reading headcanons of my favorites couples.

Please, everyone should do their own headcanons post.

Btw, do the nsfw version

[sasharalarge]

AU Where Hiccup is a pirate and marries a noble woman (Rapunzel)

These are Sketch for a Tik Tok in Spanish that am doing to promote my fanfic.

UA Donde Hiccup es pirata y se casa con una mujer noble (Rapunzel )

son sketch para un tik tok en español que estoy haciendo para promocionar mi fanfic

https://www.wattpad.com/story/393573767 ?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm _content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=RainDeLarge

[92-guy]

Big-little spoon: Clark is not only bigger, but his more affectionate and protective personality drives him to protect those he loves, and Wanda, although at first she could pretend not to need him, would end up thirsty and invite him to hug her

Lends-borrow clothes: Wanda always steals Superman's loose shirts, sweatshirts, especially if they smell like him, they would be perfect for Wanda to use as home clothes.

Pet names: Wanda is more emotional and playful in relationships. Superman uses tender names, but in intimate moments.

Introverted-extroverted: Superman is an extrovert with a modest air. Wanda is an introvert with intense moments.

Affection through words-actions:

Superman: Actions (protect, hug, always be there).

Wanda: Mixture of both, but more emotional in words when she is comfortable.

Confession:

Superman: Wait longer, he's prudent and wants to be safe.

Wanda: She confesses first when her emotions overflow her.

Bugs:

Superman: Lets them out the window.

Wanda: It depends on the mood. If it's bad, it crushes them with telekinesis.

Car: Superman. He has more experience, and his sense of responsibility is strong.

Cooking: Wanda. He can do it magically in seconds, although Superman tries to help in the traditional way.

PDA: Wanda. When she feels safe, she clings to her partner with hugs and public caresses. Superman is more reserved in public.

Overprotective: Wanda, even who knows that nothing could harm Clark, she always worries about his safety

Relationship experience: Superman. She has been with Lois and in different relationships for years, while Wanda has had fewer serious relationships

[92-guy]

RBTFD and their smartphones 📱

Jack Frost - iPhone SE

He doesn’t really use it too much, maybe games or something, but he mostly uses for listening music, chat and post

Merida - iPhone 11

Since she bought it she never changed it, she mostly uses for watching videos, take some pictures and keep them for herself of forgetting to post or share, and mostly uses for remember things

Rapunzel - Samsung Z Flip 5

She love it since she saw it, it makes her feel a nostalgic feeling of having one of those flip phones, she uses for taking selfies of photos, making some notes, a basically uses for a smartphone

Elsa - iPhone 15 pro

Oh course, Elsa is an Apple user and buy the newest phone, even though she doesn’t use all the features from the smartphone, she mostly uses for listening music, taking video calls, organize her digital stuff, watching videos and read

Anna - iPhone 15

Just like her sister, but she’s not a big fan, she constantly thinks of changing to some other phones, but she also wants to keep being in the same ecosystem as her sister. She uses mostly for taking and sharing photos, and videos, mostly listening podcast and chatting with her sister and playing with her and knowing where she is

Hiccup - Huawei Mate X3

Everybody tell him about the problems those phones have, but he’s a hardheaded, so he still using it because it’s the best smartphone in his opinion, he constantly uses for taking notes, pictures, and creating collages about the things and places he saw, even that he knows that he has to do a lot of things to get one done, he still doing it

[onceupona-crossover]

Ercolsea (Ercole visconti x chelsea van der zee) moodboard

Requested by:n/a

-Mod rapunzel

[92-guy]

Your hand in mine and…

We Become We

Hiccelsa

[neytui]

The dragon boy