Welcome to the circus, feel free to request one-shots to fill out the master list!
Requests Open!!!
Fandoms I write for;
HTTYD, MK(X,11,1), AOT, TLOVM/Critical Role, GOW, Overwatch, Vikings, One Piece (more acquainted with live action), RDR, NSR, Pokemon (sun & moon), LOL, Demon Slayer, Moon Knight, The Sandman, TF2, Resident Evil/Biohazard, Valorant, etc
I write head cannons, one shot, miniseries (if the oneshot is popular enough), fluff, angst, au's, Drabbles, yandere (no sa), platonic, romantic, familial, etc
If you want to know if I write for your fandom or prompt just ask!
Title- pairing (gender of reader) romantic/platonic/general
general= can be interpreted either way
HTTYD:
Daggers & Daffodils Master list -Dagur x Reader (Fem) Romantic
MK (Mortal Kombat):
Smoke & Ice Master list - Bi han & Smoke x Reader (Fem) Romantic
Night at Madam Bo's - Raiden x Reader (Fem) Romantic
Slither In - Syzoth (Reptile) x Reader (GN) Romantic
Breeze in the Garden - Titan Fujin x Titan Reader (GN) Romantic
Bi han x Sunshine Reader Headcannons (GN) Romantic
Hawaiʻi is currently in the midst of a natural disaster if you didnt know
Apparently there isn’t much news coverage of this outside of the islands
Towns are flooded, homes destroyed and collapsed, roads collapsed, lives at risk, gas leaks from the flood damage
Haleiwa and Waialua are currently evacuated because the 120 year old dam is at risk of bursting
Mind you that damn is owned by Dole. Theyve known about it needing to be fixed for years and years and years. Despite having more than enough money they refuse
The state has been trying to buy it out from them for years so they can fix it, but the sale hasn’t gone through
Keep in mind that the Dole family were the ones who illegally imprisoned Queen Liliuʻokalani and illegally overthrew the monarchy.
If I see another goddamn person say how sad this is for the tourists whose “trips were ruined” and compare a messed up vacation to people losing their homes, belongings, and livelihoods, I’m going to lose my mind
I am so lucky that my family or friend’s are safe and the few whose houses flooded didnt have it too bad, but so so so many were not as fortunate
If you haven’t heard anything about this until now, I suggest looking into it
The sirens didn’t go off until the flood had been going on for hours. Our state government is spending so much money on a fucking monorail we don’t need rather than fixing the infrastructure.
It’s been the locals and Kanaka doing the most to help get people to safety from the start
lol also can't get over our boy having the world's worst rbf
Hey everyone. super late chapter and I think I should be honest about it, while I am not ending or scrapping Daggers and Daffodils It has gotten to the point where I find it hard to work on. This is from a mixture of my personal life getting in the way, but largely with how removed I feel from it. I started writing d&d in 2021, which is now 5 years ago, which is crazy to say. And I do apologize for taking half a decade to not be done with it lol. But this was my first fan fic, which I do love, but struggle to know what to do with given its large gaps in writing, changes in style, and personal developments. I've even come to amicable terms with first person is SELECT situations (still don't like it). That being said, enjoy the new chapter. So far I have a draft for the next chapter so I'll do my best to have it out soon.
Dagur Pov
"Sir, unfortunately we've had some injuries and several deserters" Savage reported, posture stiff and uncomfortable.
"Deserters?!" Dagur's voice cracked, before settling in a befuddled "who?".
"Sarsgaard, Nygren, Lars number two-"
Dagur waved Savage off, "Completely expendable all three... including 2". This didn't seem to sit well with the big man, sneering, "Lars number two is my cousin" he said, shoving his finger in Dagur's face as if that changed anything.
"Oh, well isn't that a great show of family support" he smacked Rykers arm away from him, leaning into his personal space to make a point, "Things get a little sticky, and old Cousin Lars leaves us with our swords in our hands!".
Rykers irritation grew with the scowl across his ugly mug as Dagur pushed into his space. "Tell me, is that how you hunters do things? Cuz, I'd rather know now tha-", a stern look and growl hissed from the canyons he calls nostrils was enough to know to stop.
Just like he thought. Family drama. Such an embarrassing weakness, Dagur could smell the insecurity when he met him but after meeting Viggo? Yikes. It was like all Dagur had to do was bring up family to rage bait the big brute.
"Relax I trust you" he held his hands up taking a few steps back "every family has a Lars number two. Now, back to the attack, I was think-" a large hand wrapped around Dagur's throat cut him off lifting him a yack hoof off the sand.
"I don't care how you do it! Just get it done! " He yelled before unceremoniously dropping him back to the ground, "Do not let anything happen to the dragon eye".
Calmer? no. Slightly more collected, Ryker sneered at the crazy nut job in front of him before turning to walk off "everything else can burn to the ground".
A flurry of emotions flashed across Dagur's face, watching him leave.
Irritation. No, hatred. Loathing? Whichever best fit how he felt, it made him want to pop that man's skull like a grape. What? He was supposed to listen to this mutton head yelling orders at him like he were a 12-year-old.
He could practically hear his sister's thoughts.
'Bite your tongue bite your tongue', he would.
He wasn't dumb, she could at least give him credit for that. He rolled his eyes at her cutting gaze, doing its best to keep him on a leash. He didn't need it, he knew when being quiet was the wise choice. He just liked pushing as far as he could without breaking anything.
It was good that she did though, knowing what was smart also didn't tend to be enough with Dagur and he could admit that. Mood swings are a hell of a gamble on his self-control, so some 'sisterly support' did enough to keep him from doing his best imitation of a pouncing cat on the lug.
He was just out of earshot when the dam broke, and he let his temper loose. "I don't have to take that from that guy!" his arms flew out wildly, teeth grinding and muscles tensed. before he paused expression shifting from seething spiteful rage to confusion and humorous banality, "Do I have to take that from that guy?". Savage's mouth hung open catching flies, unable to imagine an answer that could please either or both sides of his temperament.
fed up with his fish-like gaping Dagur ignored him.
Oh, he would get that dragon eye. Then purge it of all its hunter secrets to make his own. Maybe when he was done with it, using it for all it's worth to create the greatest Berserker empire imaginable, he would share. That would hit a nerve. Viggo more so than Ryker, but the idea of bleeding the hunters of all their worth before tossing their ancestral knowledge to the world; spent, used, and worthless... if felt petty enough. That would have to wait for much farther up the road, however.
any attempt to force the suave or tricky grin he had before was gone. Face relaxed yet still holding a relaxed but cold scowl. Everything else can burn to the ground. That didn't slip past him. He knew the insinuation Ryker was making. Dagur came for blood, that was true. He was never above murder. That being said, the implications in what he said were intentional. Everything.
Human, building, or dragon. He didn't care.
Naturally Dagur didn't either, but that threat didn't sit well with him. He could tell what he meant. everything and everyone.
You
"He better not be going back on the plan"
"He won't. At least he better not. Not until Vi-" she cut herself off. Dagur gave her a raised brow.
She cleared her throat, "not until we've reunited the family".
The hairs of Heather's neck stood on edge as she tried to gage how acceptable the answer was to him. He wasn't scowling or yelling at her. But the silent emotionless stare wasn't assuring.
"Heh" she smiled awkwardly.
And as of the long uncomfortable pause had never happened, he slipped back into his 'regular' snide jovial self.
"If he tries something. End it"
And with a snap and gesture of the neck, the attack party collected for their assault.
Heather couldn't read minds, but the stretched closed grin across his face as they approached the tree coverage beyond the beach, left a pit in her stomach. She didn't want to know what went on in his mind. And found it all the more disturbing that she did.
For now, like the others, she would have to focus on just making it through today without anyone getting hurt.
Leaving the sight of his sister, Dagur craned his neck to the side, attempting to ease the ache in his neck.
Any more out of savage or the big man and the vein in his neck was going to burst.
Heather was being weird but at least he could trust her to keep an eye on Ryker in case he got any ideas while he was gone. Though he knew the safest option was to get you himself as soon as possible, before any unfortunate opportunities presented themselves.
Honestly, how hard is it to follow through with a mutually beneficial agreement. Well, Dagur wasn't planning on keeping his either but...
Dagur was insane. What was his excuse?
________
"Nice try Astrid!"
Sieging the hills through the forests for what must have been the third time Dagur laughed as the dragon rider's spine shot soared past its intended target by an embarrassing margin. That was, until a familiar stench reached his nose, rotten and foul.
"Wait I know that smell. It's Zippleback gas" the sounds of flint striking steel shot cold down his spine at the realization, "Don't! It's a trap! Not the flaming-". A second too late, in a flash of searing heat the explosion caused by the hunters flaming arrows ignited the gas and seared the hunters thoroughly, "Arrows".
"Oh, real nice, Astrid!" He yelled. The echoes of laughter from above giving his ears a tint of red only challenged by his hair. "You know what you and Hiccup deserve each other! You both SUC--Can anyone else not smell?" He turned towards his limping and charred hunters several missing eyebrows and pitch black in the hands.
"Oh, when I get my hands on that Nadder I want a RUG! And a Zippleback bedsheet! And a Nightfury-" he paused. No Nightfury. And now that he thought about it, no Gronkle, no Monstrous nightmare, no Storm cutter.
You split up
A wide toothy grin split across Dagur's face, wicked and boisterous laughter bubbling to the surface and breaking through his weak attempts to stifle them.
How perfect.
A grandstand as they held off wave after wave of his hunters' onslaught. Delaying the inevitable as long as possible in hopes their 'noble' and 'heroic' leader would return to their aid.
That left Astrid and the boy twin guarding the edge. No, he was certain he heard your laugh ringing in the cliffs as logs rained down on him and his men like a song of destruction. Unless he hit his head and gone crazy?... No probably not that.
You, Astrid, and the other blond idiot. Three people and 2 dragons. Easy enough, all it would take is a full-frontal assault. Your defenses must certainly be depleted or at least run thin this far along into the siege.
all it would take
damn
"Sir! Where are you going?" a bowman called after him as he darted away.
"Keep on that hill!" He warned with a point of his index finger.
"B-but won't they burn us again?"
The glare he threw over his shoulder was enough to make even the most likely deserter hold their post, but in case it wasn't he threatened "I'll burn you if you step foot off this mountain!".
Though in the end it didn't matter, pain guaranteed in either outcome.
Leaving his hunting party behind he took off in a different direction towards the beaches. The sounds of his men bracing from dragon fire solidifying his swift exit. Across three people they would be balancing hunting parties, with his now exposed and foolishly still advancing troupe, he could slip through with ease.
But that did leave the question. Where was he going?
Sliding to a halt against the sand and dirt panting, Dagur, finally considered if he knew where he was going.
He was on the forest line of the beach closest to the cliffs. Looking past the trees, he could see the wide winding stairs that zig zagged from the docks to the top of the edge; a line of hunters preparing to storm them.
Dagur could tell them the edge was only guarded by three people when they inevitably fail to climb to the top thanks to whatever crafty tricks you came up with. But he wouldn't.
After Ryker's little power trip this evening he wasn't telling him anything. At least until he was sure you weren't there. And as an added bonus had the dragon eye in his grasp. The sun was beginning to set, shadows stretching long and providing ample cover.
Looking behind him in the direction he came from, he could hear his men flee, followed by a beating sound growing louder.
Dropping his weight like a dead body Dagur fell to the ground, keeping his face against the dirt.
Dragon wings
The beating sound grew louder, pauses in-between growing shorter and shorter before-
Thud!
It was landed.
Dagur couldn't see it. But the low growl like chuff may as well painted a clear picture of the scaley creature. It sniffed the air long and slow, sneezing at whatever particles tickled its nostrils. Or, his mind wandered, him. No that couldn't be it.
A sharp ringing sound signaled a Nadder's tail. An angry rumbling sound from its chest momentarily sending his heart into his feet. They always did say you could never really wash away the smell of a Berserker.
Holding his breath he didn't dare move. The ground shaking under the weight of each slow step it took.
"C'mon girl they need us back at the front" the beast 'whatever its name was', let an almost irritated chirp, reluctantly taking to the sky against its own wishes to heed its rider's.
After a moment of waiting, he picked himself off the ground wiping the dirt from his face. Great, now he hoped you weren't here. Here he was, clothes stained in dirt and sand in his beard. He had planned to sweep you off your feet and scoop you away. Steal you in the dead of night and never bring you back.
Before Ryker inevitably caught on and realized your ruse and turned the island into a bloodbath.
It would be easier if you weren't here now, he could slip in unnoticed and take the eye for himself, kill the other riders and their dragons, and wait for you to return with a bundle of flowers.
But that was if you weren't here. And something was nagging at the back of Dagur's mind, screaming to him that you were. Maybe it was more of his dreams bleeding into his waking life. That tended to be how his 'delusions' went. Hells, he often found himself 'seeing' you in crowds you'd never walked. Or 'hearing' your voice in crowded halls you'd never visited.
Memories blurred into the present, the smell of your hair still clear in his mind. Basil, pressed oils, and mint. Though the Basil was the strongest among all scents. It stained your hair, fingers, and clothes.
It stained the letters you wrote him in your youth, the hilts of your knives, and though he'd never been close enough to tell he would put money on your saddle smelling similar.
Dagur, scratched at his face, shaking loose the grains of sand caught in his facial hair. He was having one of his delusions now.
Basil
wafts of it, faint yet insistent.
Over the salt of the sea, the dirt staining his chin, or the stench of dragon.
Wait, but he could smell those things. He could smell again!
And if he wasn't imagining those smells then-
Looking around, Dagur couldn't make out anything nearby that could be the source. So, he allowed his nose to guide him, pushing through the brush and trees. Following the unreliable and confusing scent trail, Dagur's ears and face went red as he came face to face with rock.
Standing in front of the cliffside of the edge Dagur was sure the lure of your scent was strongest here. "Mad boy" he could hear the voice of his mother chastise, "Chasing smells through the woods".
Dagur, tapped his left foot wildly, staring at the stone slap to the face unblinking. She would think him mad if she could see him.
'If she could see him' he thought, an idea flashing into his mind. Tearing his gaze from the cursed dead end he looked up towards the sky, up the cliffs. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, just a near vertical angle the average man would call unclimbable without a hook and rope.
It was a good thing he was a mad man.
Gritting his teeth and careful to create the best grip possible he launched upwards, grabbing a loose rock. Ignoring the pressure in his fingers and how the jagged edges felt like knives against his palms he swung up and to the side, fingers finding purchase on a thin ledge.
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face nearly missing his eye in a move that would have likely blinded and sent him falling downwards. Looking upwards Dagur began to make out what looked like grass, peaking over the edge of the cliff side.
The top.
There was a considerable distance left he had yet to climb, and less and less to grab onto. cracking his neck with a flex to the side and a shaky breath, Dagur lunged directly upwards, falling briefly back downwards before he secured his grip on a thick dried and dead root. Allowing himself no rest to make the most of his momentum he swung far to the right to a large crack within the stone he shoved both hands into.
Then adjusted his grip so he could rest a moment and plan ahead.
Now was the hard part.
There was nothing to grab onto for nearly a full yak, beyond that Dagur was spoiled for choice stable and deceiving options alike.
Taking a steady breath in through his nose Dagur let loose a toothy smile. Basil. Stronger than before. Serves him right, his nose has never led him astray before. Well, except for the time it guided him into an armed enemy camp, but that was more of his stomachs fault than anything.
Regardless, now he knew he was right. And that made what he was about to do worth it.
Pulling his feet upwards to replace his hands in the crack one at a time, he stood up. Balancing was a nightmare, and he caught himself about to lean back twice. Realizing he had far less time to act than he thought initially Dagur shot up.
Nails scraping against stone and feet kicking wildly upwards, at the cost of most of his nailbeds his hands managed to grab onto out jutting stones. However, under the pressure of his weight, the hold in his left hand crumbled. Dangling from one arm, he watched as the crumbled rock fell down down down to the ground, exploding on impact.
That was close.
Using all the power in his right arm, he hoisted himself upwards enough to grasp the cliff top with his left. With a huff of exhaustion Dagur lifted himself over the edge collapsing into his back.
"Made it" relieved and closing his eyes he took the moment of victory in, the grin of satisfaction morphing into a sadistic laugh.
It was fortunate that prison left little for him to do except work on his arms. A world where he was a smear at the bottom of a cliff too close for comfort.
The burning in his fingertips he could do without, but what better way to feel alive? Anything was better than being back in that cell. He'd do it again if he had to. Or wanted to. It would be a fun challenge to have to do it one handed carrying you down. Maybe next time, when he had all of his nails back.
The sounds of waves crashing below pulled him from his thoughts. Jumping up with a grand tada as though it were an ovation, he ignored the slight buckle in his right knee with a wobbly stand.
Your hut.
He knew it was yours. He had never seen it before, but he could tell. Every bit of it screamed your likeness.
Pressing against the door did nothing, "Locked". At the sound of his voice, a rumbling reverberating through the house, the wood of the door trembling. You weren't here, but something was.
Your beast he'd assume, the big one. Best to stay quiet he thought. That thing always did hate him; it was probably listening to him now.
He preferred your small one. Manageable, travel sized and knew how to grab the mail. He'd let you keep that one. Only fair, the terror had always been your signet anyways.
It'd be hypocritical to keep a Skrill
A loud thud shook the hut as what was likely the big one threw itself against the door. Catching Dagur off guard he flinched; it probably smelled him too. Your dragon was here locked inside and grounded. That meant you must be here too.
Not one to tempt fate and the dragon's nose he stepped away, abandoning the hut Dagur moved towards the fenced garden.
The smell of basil that had led him to his destination humorously was impossible to make out this close. Buried under thick dried rolls of lavender and other fragrances. The thick blanket tickled his nose.
Reaching over the gate he dislodged the wooden bar locking it, letting himself in.
Plants weren't particularly Dagur's field of interest, he couldn't name half the things in that garden. There were a few things of interest that did catch his eye. Basil, just as he'd expected, wasn't trimmed; flowers allowed to bloom to their fullest.
The clusters of yellow flowers spread across the expanse of the grass were by far the biggest in numbers. Were they your favorite? If they were he could finally give his florist a concept for the service.
But most interestingly was a plant that he could recognize. One that he did not think you would have.
"Dragon root? Now why would you be here?" whatever the reason, a plan was forming in his mind. A wicked one.
________
You closed that gate. Locked it. You were sure of it. So, the only fathomable reason it could be swaying free in the cool breeze was that someone had let themselves in. Your front door was still closed but it was also quiet. Silver Tongue was anything but quiet.
Reaching into your boot you grabbed your dagger, silently approaching the gate. Blood stained the wood, red not brown. New.
And though the gash in your hand could just as easily be the culprit, you know it wasn't yours. Said gash was also on your dominant hand, making dealing with whatever hunter stumbled into your garden a difficult task. The concussion and sleeping drought-soaked clothes? impossible. But you've faced worse odds.
Keeping low to the ground you slipped past the gate and hid behind the shed peering around the corner to spot this intruder.
And just as fast as you could stick your head out, you swung it back in. You were wrong, these were far worse odds than you've faced before.
You could not make out a face. His back was turned to you, hunched over in your daffodils.
You didn't need a face to know who it was.
------
Thanks for reading! I tried to tag as many people as possible, if I missed your request I do apologize. If you'd like to be added please let me know!
The first time he got called uncle he was emotionally destroyed for weeks. He was 24.
Those glasses are absolutely ray bands
Gets scolded by his wife for wearing shoes in the house because he thinks "crocs don't count".
Wife guy (cannon)
Doesn't actually really care for poi, but pounds poke.
Has a tan line where his lab coat opens
Actively trying to teach himself Hawaiian (Burnet helps him/they study together)
Absolute dork, but do.not.underestimate this man's tolerance. Caffeine? Alcohol? Takes a lot to get him feeling anything
LOSER!!!
HATES Yungoos! With a passion.
Has an older cousin that bullies him/sets him straight
Got lickins when his family found out about the vandalism. He now has to do the walk of shame from his parent's car to community service because they don't trust him to show up on his own
Has a habit of acting out worse and or more often in better off neighborhoods, especially areas with large amounts of tourists.
20% the day to day in team skull is battling Pokémon, 10% is spent doing anything actually productive (team skull's standard of 'productive'), and the other 70% is fucking with tourists.
Professional Rage baiter. Like it's a superpower. She knows when to use it, keeping it minimal so she can maintain her nonchalant persona.
Absolutely uses it against Guzma to get out of work tho
Knows most of the Skull teams families, the aunties love her
Ghost writes most of Guzma's bars
Holds the record for biggest spear fishing catch in the squad, a nice 60 pounder. Though she swears she's caught bigger. (no one knows whether they believe her or not)
Got called a titah once and beat the guy unconscious
Plans to get another tattoo on her next birthday
Did the eyeliner "guyliner" (they insisted it be called that) on team skull once, they never ate harder
Has a personal vendetta against cricket. Never understood it. Never plans too.
Bonds with soldier over baseball cards and talking about players "God bless Americas favorite pastime"
Do not ask this man to do anything with metric measurements, he will fail.
Didn't eat strawberries until he was in high school, then realized he's allergic to them
Is surprisingly good at laundry. He got used to having to do it himself or for others and tends to catch people off guard with how meticulous or patient he is.
He also likes to do it himself so he can make sure to use extra softener on his sheets and shirts.
Don't tell anyone though! He plans to take this to his grave.
It's the French in him.
Got grey hairs early. Like mid to late 20s.
Actually, prefers the piss jars to public restrooms for 'cleanliness reasons'
Dad sneeze (not a dad but y'know what I'm talking about)
Whispers one liners to himself when he head taps (pretty sure that's cannon just wanted to reiterate he's a loser)
Loves whittling. Favorite wood to carve is driftwood
He also collects animal bones and teeth, he enjoys cleaning them to turn into decorations or jewelry
Can't remember the last time he drank pure water, our boy drinks a lot of coffee
Meticulous when he brushes his teeth bc hes lowk scared of coffee stains
Do not let this man cook when he's wasted, has caused several grease fires
In the few moments between hangovers when he's sober, he can make a mean breakfast sandwich
gets in fights with scout and soldier because oppositely he hates the imperial system and exclusively uses metric
Lactose intolerant, like the bad kind. I don't think they invented Lactaid yet, but he chances it anyway
Despite arguing a lot, their combined short-term memory makes soldier his best friend on the team
Was obsessed with fireworks as a kid which fed into his destructive fixations
attends heavy's book club but never does the actual reading, just summarizes from the cliff notes
Professional rage baiter. loves getting under spy's skin the most because of how much effort it takes to make him break character. And Heavy the least because of how easy it is. Also, because when it inevitably goes wrong, he favors his chances with a salty Frenchman than a ticked off heavy.
reader is gn, mid 30s so around brims age range. wrote this across multiple writing sessions. Many of which blasted, so if parts don't make sense. Good! Cuz I ain't proof reading shit and I want something to laugh at reading later <3
---
"Shit.... that look dryer than a Mu' fuka " you struggled to hold back your laughter. Laughing would send you into another coughing fit.
Opening the fridge in search of a solution to your little problem you reached for the milk only to be met with the horror of an unusually light carton.
"Who the hell puts it back in empty!?" heathens, that's who. But it would be hypocritical of you to judge, given your current activities.
Restrictions and inspections lightened recently, so sneaking things on site was much easier. Conveniently, around the same time, your friend gave you a gaudy and brightly pink pipe. So, here you stood, or leant rather, 4 am in the on-site kitchen, struggling to make some instant mac n cheese in your confused and freshly baked state.
Normally you wouldn't consider something this reckless, but the kitchen being its own building on base, paired with the giant fans actually made it more convenient to air out. Not that it was a skunk. In fact you had gone out of your way to get a cute strain that smelled faintly of strawberries. It wasn't particularly sweet, much to your chagrin.
Weed made you hungry enough to make you ignore how much your body hates dairy, it also had your rationality and impulses arm-wrestling for control constantly but that was the fun part.
"Yeah, that just looks all kinds a wrong" you said to the clump of dry fake powdered cheese stuck to the spoon. Damn. It's fine, don't stress just take a step back a chill for a second.
Stopping for a moment you closed your eyes and leant against the countertop. You hadn't registered when you had taken another hit until you were coughing up a storm, but muscle memory had a habit of setting you up.
"Hoo--- Now I got cotton mouth" first dry mac' n cheese now dry mouth.
Ok. No milk, but you swear you saw yogurt in the fridge... it wouldn't be the most sacrilegious thing you've done today. Yogurt came from milk, cheese came from milk, and you were out of milk.... the math did itself.
you weren't exactly sure how, but--
"What the hell are you doing?" It came from behind; you knew that voice. Brim!
Shit.... hide the weed!
"Hey Brim!" you slid yourself in front of the sinful little pink glass pipe
His face was notably scrunched, whatever that meant. His beard was recently trimmed, but somehow, he also has a visible jaw line that could cut diamonds. Damn... wut were you thinking about? oh right you are currently getting caught smoking weed by your boss.
unfortunately, currently you struggled to connect facial expressions to thoughts and emotions on others. But if it were you,
You.Wouldn't.Buy.Shit
Ok, face is a bust. Body language.
ohohoh body language
focus
Ok, his hands are on his hips so that has to be something along the lines of either a scolding, or his back finally giving out.... both possible.
'anyone's back would start giving out if they had to carry an ass that big'
You ain't even hear a word I said-"
"huh?" was he talking this whole time!?
-STOP THIRSTING OVER YOUR BOSS-
"I'm sorry. I'm tired, say that again",
"Burning the midnight oil? " oils would be more accurate but so far no yelling. That was a good sign.
"Felt a little hungry. Thought I'd grab a snack" snack indeed.
Focus
"At 4 am? " ok he was definitely getting closer now.
"Never heard of a midnight craving.... At 4" ok that wasn't great for a defense but-- WHOAH he is close.
"New shampoo? " kinda random but ok, "Uh, no. Not really".
"Oh ok" He nodded taking a step back.
"Why? "
He gives you a raised brow before begining to riffle for something in his pocket, "just wondering why you smell like a fruit bowl and a bowl".
SHIT
"Listen Brimstone I can explain. I called off for the next 2 days and--"
Brim shifted to lean on the counter looking into the pot to leer at your sinful abomination "The fuck is this?! ".
On second thought maybe the weed wasn't the most embarrassing thing you'd be caught doing tonight.
"Why is it chunky? And... Jiggly?" The glare was scathing.
"We were out of milk! Milk is dairy. Yogurt is dairy" he pinched his brow.
"Why not just use water?"
"Runny Mac n cheese is nasty!"
"You put month old Greek yogurt in a pot and burned it with powdered cheese! That shit taste good?"
...
He crossed his arms, making his delts extra prominent to your delicious, stressed, and horn dog mind, "thats what I thought".
"We'll just use heavy cream and cut it with some water" he shooed you from the stove pulling out a lighter from his jacket to take a long slow drag before closing his eyes and letting the smoke pool out in thick clouds.
Hot.
"I take it this is not your first time then" he laughed. Genuinely.
"Hell no! " he clutches a rib before taking a second smaller drag, "when I was in my 20s my squadmates and I used to take those big standard issue flashlights and-" he trails off wheezing to himself. Coughing and choking on his own spit.
"And?!" You throw your arms up, at the edge of your metaphorical seat.
"We turned them into pipes! " he's wheezing like a history teacher at this point, gripping the counter hard.
Me next!
Shut up brain!
*Gasp* "Commander! How scandalous" you mock being horrified.
"Course I was already smoking by then" he turns off the stove, shaking his head with a smile as he fiddles about with the final product.
Feeling much more comfortable you relax, propping yourself next to him, and taking one last full diaphragm inhale.
Humbled immediately you choke, wheezing with elegant strings of drool and tears sending him to the absolute moon and back.
"You dying?!"
"Shut the fuck up! Its been a few years! "
Smiling, he hands you a bowl, much different from the mess you left in the cast iron pot last you checked.
"Red?"
"Paprika and pink salt. Should be enough to fix whatever it was you were calling Mac n cheese".
"So the old man's got tricks" you tease.
"I got a few I think could surprise you" he said low, blowing a stream through his smirking teeth.
"Any *fun* ones" it was said half jokingly, half accidentally, the still bricked up part of your mind controlling the words before you could stop them.
"Wanna learn?"
Was he... Was he into this?
Nah! Thats just you being high and confused.
Pfft- you laughed it off. It's not like you've never joked with him like that before. Thats all it was. A joke.
"Only if it's a hand on lesson" you raise your brows suggestively. Almost immediately breaking character and coughing up a storm in laughter.
"Oh I'll keep my hands busy if you let me" it was said seriously.
Oh shit he's into this
"Promise?" Did u just say that?!
Oh fuck you're into this!
Brim leaned down towards you.
"Even through the hand cramps"
Oh you were jumping this old man.
It didn't take much before you were essentially pulled between the mountain of a man and the kitchen counter. Holding his mouth randsom while the lower section on your body seemed more accurate to a, far more focused on figuring out what made this man's bones creak.
Ok maybe that was a bit too far, but if the noises he was making were any indication, he was enjoying it.
It was certainly awkward at first, grinding fully clothed, you were out of practice and the both of you were definitely stoned, but that didn't stop the movements of your hips from lining up every other thrust.
The thick denim of his pants and his belt getting in the way was a slight road block. But damn if he wasn't making up for it on his own.
A quiet pop sounds and the methodical movements halt. Brim hisses, "Shit" you couldn't put it any better yourself.
"Fuck. Already out of breath?" You scold jokingly.
"Im getting too old for this" he rubs a hand down his face exhausted and embarrassed.
"If it makes you feel better" you. Curl your hand in his, "I think I threw out my leg".
"You still--? " pfft
"On a bed? In a room with ac? Ill ride ya 10 ways to church" you got him to break with that one.
"No more sativa for you. Last thing I need is you throwing out my back... Again".
If your name starts with k and you're my mutual (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE): do not read this
Thanks for the kind words, everyone, fortunately the data set was destroyed from the scrape! Got me in such a good mood I sped up the process on this one a little.
I haven't been this motivated and excited to write for D&d in years. To the point that I even drafted a concept for a Viggo fic. But that's for much later. This chapter has a dream sequence in the beginning so sorry if anyone gets confused. Also, this chapter is THE delulu fan service chapter.
edit: I quite literally finished the entire chapter. then had the damn draft deleted. Thankfully my beta reader saved about over half of it but sorry for the delay.
Soft.
It's the best description for the feeling of your hair wrapped in his hand. A small strand, gently stretched and curled around his index and middle fingers.
The summers of Berserk, much like her people, burned hot and shined bright. The sun fills the entirety of the room despite the early hours, casting a golden sheen onto your still peacefully resting form.
He had mentally begged for this moment. When his home would become yours. It was strange, he hadn't been home in years, but nothing could pry the pride he felt for the rough yet beautiful island. Maybe that's why he loves you so much, you remind him of home.
Dagur, careful not to tug against your scalp, unwinded the strand from his fingers, raising them to his face.
No matter how long you bathed you still smelled like your herb garden. When he was younger it used to tickle his nose. But now, just a faint whiff of basil made his mind race with you.
Dagur wasn't a humble man. So, he had no difficulty in calling it his greatest gift to you yet. It took months to finish, and it would have taken longer if Dagur hadn't put the fear of Odin into those poor builders.
But oh, did it pay off. The way you wrapped your arms around his neck and thanked him before scurrying away to play with your new collection. The way you were now more than content to spend your days within the safety of your shared home. The way you whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he laid his head in your lap on the lush grass.
It was only right that his final betrothal gift outshone all others.
Dagur's eyes dropped to the many small gold ringlets and more sentimental trinkets Heather had braided and pinned into your hair on your wedding day.
Dagur was almost confident the reason that he could never imagine the wedding itself was because it would be impossible for his unconscious mind to imitate. But this was a blessing enough.
"You're staring" your eyes didn't open, but the smirk in the corner of your mouth struggled not to reach your ear.
"Hard not to" a scoffed laugh breaks your attempt to remain at rest.
You were looking at him now. Only him. Bliss.
He made no attempts to hide the pleased sigh when your hand reached for his face. "Then I'll have to let you do it more often". The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as your fingers lightly combed and scratched the small unshaven stubble across his chin.
The way your eyes glazed over with thoughts of your own left him giddy. Would you like it if he grew it out? He loved the way your eyes roamed over him.
Your interest was apparent when he found you on the reaper. He knew you still loved him. The way your breath would hitch when he leaned in, your face would turn pink when he did anything ‘scandalous’.
"You have that stupid smile again. What are you thinking?" You chastise, slowing your movements into long smooth tracings along his jaw.
"...my wife" it was said entirely to himself. A silent reverence at the mere idea.
you gave him a look, expectant and waiting "...Yes?".
His heart stopped. Or it felt like it did.
That was it. The final straw. The crack in the wall. The bludgeon to the head. The chase was fun at times he'll admit. But not anymore, he's done playing. This was meant to be his years ago. Stolen from him because his brother decided he wasn't what was best for you anymore. Dagur wants his wife back. And by Thor, not Hiccup or any of his little riders were getting in the way of that. You were waiting for him.
Basil, mint, and something sweet invaded his senses as you pressed yourself into his chest, gold and beads jingling lightly, resting gently and cool against his skin.
"You keep leaving when things start getting good" he attempted to joke, but it came out bittersweet and tired.
"Hurry up and find me then"
A part of it drove Dagur mad. To see such a tangible and pure vision of heaven only to have it stolen from him as a sharp stabbing pain in his rib jolted him awake.
"Get up, we're here" Dagur's hand twitched violently as he woke. Though when he registered the source of his unwanted wake-up call he quickly set aside his rampant thoughts of brutal murder looking up to the crossed armed form of his sister.
"You know. You catch a lot more flies with honey than vinegar" Heather scoffed as he rose slowly. Rolling his shoulder.
"Well, you're not a fly. You're a flea, who needs to hop to it and get out" she said dryly, despite how ridiculous it sounded. Dagur huffed a laugh, it was good to see he wasn't the only one in the family with a sense of humor. Hiccup was a lost cause for more reasons than one, you had your moments, and dear old mom and dad weren't exactly coming up with one liners anymore.
..... Damn it
The air tightened as the tired yet playful expression on Dagur's face dropped. Heather held her ground, finally having gotten to understand him enough to not shift uncomfortably.
Dreaming again.
Dagur had been ecstatic when Heather had approached him about reconnecting as siblings and rebuilding their tribe. She hadn't expected him to believe her so readily.
Sure, he had said he would welcome her with open arms when she came crawling back, but she didn't expect him to be there with LITERAL open arms.
But he did, even as the crew fixed her with sharp and threatening glares, he warned every. Single. One of them that anyone who so much as bothered her would answer to him.
She learned about his... Routine early on. The same recurring dream. Not his only one mind you, but the only one that mattered in his mind.
He described it like the world was giving him a vision. Warning?
It took all of Heather's willpower to keep a neutral expression as he raved about the garden thing he was planning and something about Basil.
She was becoming fairly confident that she could fairly predict her brothe- Dagur!
She really had to not make a habit of doing that.
It made the most sense that to stay undercover in his good graces it was best to feed into his delusions, as guilty as it made her feel towards you.
Though you did lie to her about being engaged with her brother. Calling it even seemed fair. And in truth, now that she was in her right mind and had time to calm down, she knew it wasn't you or any of the rider's fault.
She would have kept that detail to herself too.
It's why she was doing this. Firstly, it was to avenge her village and get close to Viggo. But knowing she could keep an eye out for the riders made her feel strong. Like she could finally keep the people she cares about safe.
"Same dream?" Dagur didn't answer, not at first.
"Are you going to be able to do this? " That finally got his attention. His face twisting in mock offence.
"Oh, ho ho I can handle myself against hiccup and his little" he cleared his throat, "riders" he said changing his voice to be higher and nasilier in a mock imitation of Hiccup.
"I'm not talking about the other riders" she presses, being stern.
"..." She thought for a moment before deciding to continue "she could get hurt if you're not careful".
"I'm always careful-"
"No, you're not" she dead panned, pushing her luck.
"Every time you make a move on Hiccup, Toothless, or the dragon eye. Something goes wrong".
Dagur kept his temper, but he was still put off by his sister's insistence. He honestly didn't get irritated with her often.
"Hiccup and his little riders will be halfway across the archipelago with that blabbermouth Johann. We just need to grab the undefended dragon eye and wait for them to come back and spring an ambush" it was said, remarkably casual despite the sinister twisted smile he wore. Likely finding amusement in how she began to pace
"You couldn't have told me that sooner?"Heather couldn't help the bubbling anger in her chest. The entire plan was last minute (to her at least), and she hadn't been given enough time to warn you all. To make things worse Ryker was always hovering, keeping a close eye on how many messengers and terrors were on hand. He didn't trust her, that was obvious.
"Hey, you're the one all stressed out about meeting Viggo, though it would do you some good to relax for a change".
Knowing Hiccup, he never would have ignored trader Johann's distress call. That means that much to her dismay, Dagur's plan was brilliant. If Ryker wouldn't listen, he was her only hope for calling the whole thing off.
"I just think this all feels off" she moved to avoid eye contact. Dagur's light demeanor dropped. Replaced with skepticism.
"You're not scared, are you?" she rolled her eyes. "Hardly, I just don't need you getting excited over little miss Haddock and screwing this all up" she went on the offensive.
She failed to notice the way pupils got deadly small, and his back straightened while she was turned away. "With the plan to double cross Viggo still so vague, maybe we should leave her and the others alone for a bit?".
"I'm bringing my wife home" he said matter of factly.
"Your wife? Dagur, stop being crazy. You're not even married. You can stand to wait a couple-" With a sharp turn her breath hitched at the imposing form of her brother.
"I'm bringing my wife home" Neither moved. Forcing herself not to swallow the thick tension and saliva in her throat she put on the best smile she could.
"Ok. Just a thought" Shit, she pushed it too far.
He stared at her like a wolf looks at a sheep. Calculating and dangerous, challenging her to look away.
"Pfft" his mouth and nose twitched as Dagur tried and failed to stiffen the bubbling laughter growing in his chest.
Heather looked at her brother mortified. She takes it back; she doesn't understand him at all.
Dagur nearly choked and cried, ribs burning as a hand clutched the side of his face like it would fall off. Thankfully this seemed to keep him from registering the abject fear, confusion, and disdain pooling from his sister, "The look on your face!".
She needed to get the Hel out of here already.
--------
Ruff is gone. Tuff is overstimulated. Astrid is entering battle mode. And Scabbard's tail is starting to make your neck itch. These are the four things you allow yourself to process at the moment, in fear of a mental breakdown.
"Ok what's the plan? We need to get my sister back" Tuff was breathless from running up the stairs. Astrid was holding herself together firmly, swiftly scanning over the map of the edge before jotting down an SOS message and handing it to you, "first thing is back-up. Scabbard is our fastest Terror so we can only hope this message reaches the auxiliary team".
You press your head against your sweet angel of terror before with a slight jostle tossed her into the air towards Berk.
"How do we know she'll get there in time?!" Tuff asks, struggling not to bounce off the walls with his jittery movements.
"We don't"
"Well, how do we know they'll get back here in time?"
"We don't"
"There is a terrible lack of clarity in those answers!" Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.
"It's all going to be ok, Tuffnut. We're going to hold down this edge, defend this base, and we will get your sister back, okay?".
"There is no possible way we can defend the edge against an all-out attack with only one flyable dragon. But maybe we can slow them down until help gets here of, we use our spears and arrows sparingly--"
"Wait! I know an even better way to slow them down" Astrid tried to cut him off, but Tuff put his foot down, "no you need to hear this, Astrid!".
She looked at you for a moment as if looking for backup. The conversation from earlier sounded in her mind. And with a sigh she told him to continue. "Ok, well, as you know, tricking is my area of expertise. I'm kind of the official edge trickster. What if we tricked them into thinking there are more of us than there are".
Tuff began to ramble, jumping into action and listing countless inane and wild ideas. While she did wince more than twice. You could see her push down any snide comments and move to prepare.
"Would you be able to make something?!" Tuff was now right in your face, ignoring personal space.
"Like?--"
"Acid! Poison? Acidic Poison!" you tugged him out of your bubble by the ear.
"I'm a doctor, Tuff. Not an Assassin" He paused.
"I thought you were a witch. I didn't say anything about an assassin" giving you an unconvinced onceover. before slowly backing out of the clubhouse without turning his back to you.
Poison was absolutely out of the question. But maybe Tuff was on to something. Ok two things. The Ziplines he set up were a miracle on your feet.
Back in your hut you rushed to test a theory. Silver Tongue growled in a low bellow and hiss to the dreaded root.
"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to have this near the huts, but I need to be sure of something". Grinding root, boiling extract, refining, you set yourself to work. The dragon root that had done this to him was a cruel and vile tactic for cowards. But something about Tuff calling you a witch that made you think.
'Hiccup does reckless things all the time when he has an idea'
Carefully, you slide the bottle towards Silver Tongue.
"So? How do you feel?" your breath hitched as he began to twitch eyelids flickering.
'nononononono---' his twitches stopped in favor of chuff-like coughs.
"I'm so sorry! I thought I did it right-" splat
Wet. And then the unmistakable sound of amusement from your dragon.
This rotten eel brain just sneezed on you, and to top it off, he also splashed the bottle contents on you.
"Ugh you're disgusting!" he mimicked your outrage with garble noises.
"You're lucky I'm just glad you're ok" it worked, a neutralized dragonroot, gods above you would be so ecstatic if you weren't so tired.
Actually, now that you were thinking of it, you weren't this tired a few moments ago. You could faintly make out the sound of concern from Silver Tongue before you hit the ground.
Why was your body so heavy? I mean, you 're supposed to get rest anyways. What was the harm in resting for a bit? Not too long, just enough to rest your hand a bit.
Freja above you thought you closed the curtains. The sun was blinding you...
The sun?
Ignoring the foggy headache, you sat up blearily. You fell asleep! A large head shoved itself into your chest.
Silver Tongue. He still smelled like salmon and sea bass.
"Sorry" it sounded pathetically drowsy and yawn-like, "I guess this can be useful too".
A sleeping drought this effective would certainly go for a good price, and you wouldn't put combat use out of the question. Especially since it seemed to be ineffective against dragons.
Dragons.... SILVER TONGUE
Fully awake you took in the gravity of your situation.
Silver Tongue wasn't going to be able to be moved to the pens. That was the harsh reality of his condition. You couldn't move him this close to a likely attack. Gods above, they probably needed you. You swiftly closed all your windows and doors, sure to lock your compost bin, shed, and garden gate.
"Tuff you genius" ignoring the slight sting from your bandaged hand you held firm on the handle of the zipline.
"Y/N! About time that you got here" Astrid yelled from the catapult. Tuff was manning the ballista taking out a ship.
"Slept in" Tuff let out a jealous huff before his eyes caught on the half empty bottle strapped to your waist.
"Acidic poison! I knew it! An assassin in our midst! Someone warn the chief!" he was cut off by a loud boom. A fiery boulder smashing into one of the hunters' ships.
"Perfect aim as always Astrid" She held back the pride you undoubtedly gave her.
"it's not over yet".
--------
First you shot down ships until you ran out of ammo, next were the fire lines. Careful not to start a forest fire, but enough to deter them from the side of the mountains with underground tunnels. You spent what must have been ages managing the south side of the island rolling logs onto hiking hunters.
Currently, you sit on the ground, cleaning and rewrapping your hand for the third time. The cut was closed still, thankfully, lightly scabbed over, but the friction from the bandages and rushing around the edge left it pink and sore. Astrid had sent you off to wait in the clubhouse while she launched her final defense.
Tuff meanwhile busied himself, carving a path into the floorboards as he listed more and more wild ideas.
Now it was his time to shine.
Some held promise, the ziplines were already amazing. But others were... on the more alternative wave of thinking. But as someone who grew up with Hiccups innovation and Dagur's mood swings you were more than trained in dealing with it.
The sun was setting. That meant limited daylight, decreased visibility, and doubtlessly another attempt to break past your defenses.
"There you are!" Tuff called as Astrid dismounted, somber and defeated, "Listen I've been thinking a lot and--".
"It's over Tuff. We tried but there's just too many of them. My plan didn't work" for a moment so one said anything. Before Tuff broke into a big smile, "I found the Dragon Eye. Someone buried it".
Astrid swiped it from his hand, "I did that, to keep it from the hunters".
"You want to be captured and tortured by crazed Dragon Hunters, or listen to plan Tuffnut?" Astrid gave a look the closest to fear you've ever seen her make.
Relenting she sighed, "What do we have to lose".
--------
For once the anxiety that had plagued you all day had been temporarily replaced. Mind you, with guilt. But also... satisfaction.
"Ropes soaked with monstrous Nightmare gel? I wouldn't have thought of that" Astrid complimented Tuff.
"I really hope this doesn't become a complex" you held back a smile at the choked and scared realization of the hunters. In one swift move, Stormfly ignited the ropes dangling down the sides of the cliffs. Sending the invaders crashing down into the water.
wait a minute, they were starting to get higher.
"What's next?" Tuff gave Astrid a sly grin.
"You're gonna love this"
Tuff was quick to rush towards the Docks. Astrid looked at you carefree and excited for the first time in weeks, "If it works, I guess" and took off after him.
Something was nagging the back of your brain.
"It's fine just pick four things to focus on", you closed your eyes;
One.
The Wind- inhale-cool against your skin, picking up speed; a sign of rain, hailing from the north
Two.
Hand Pain- exhale-stinging, constant, getting worse, probably not the best thing to focus on right now
Three
Crashing Waves-inhale- just faint enough to make out.....
Shit!
Your hut! If the hunters managed to climb this high, it wouldn't be much further until they could reach your hut. You ran to the nearest zipline as fast as you could.
Halfway down the line a sharp pain shot from your palm to your spine, sending you plummeting downwards.
Crack
Burning, your hand was burning. The bandages wrapping it were tattered and practically gone. The wound was reopened. No doubt about it; it would scar.
That wasn't what scared you most, the growing cool and wet feeling growing across your abdomen felt like a question you didn't want answered.
With shaky fingers, you dragged a hand across the damp cloth and raised it to your nose.
Met with a familiar and pungent odor you quickly took them away from your face and stripped off your coat and apron.
"Just the drought" ignoring the sting, you balanced yourself and stood.
"Can't even take your own advice. And you call yourself a doctor" you chastise trying to slow your breathing.
not now. Just a bit longer.
"Four things. Then I'm back home";
One.
Moonlight, bright enough to walk without need for a torch-inhale- you pulled yourself onto a path above you that would lead to the main path
Two.
Sweet herbal oils, scent still staining your hair and invading your senses- exhale-You swapped paths twice, finding your staircase and bracing your knees for an uphill battle, literally
Three
waves faint, but still loud enough to hear from the hut- inhale-you run up the last of the stairs, hut in plain sight now
Four
The creak of the open gate in the wind- you don't breathe- there's someone in your garden
______
Thanks for finishing the chapter. Special thanks to my two beta readers!
OK so update.
To celebrate over 40k reads across all platforms I have some oneshots planned,
Some will be cannon to D&D, others will be au's such as
Dagur x yandere/reader (role swap au)
The Summer Dagur tried to kidnap you to Berserk (canon)
I literally finished the damn thing. and right as I'm copying sections of it to give to my beta reader. it's just gone.
Thankfully because i was in the process of giving it to the beta reader I managed to save over half of it. but until its either resolved or i rewrite it. It will be delayed a couple days. I won't say a week. Because I've already written it once.
Hey, this is for Daggers & Daffodils, the newest chapter is longer and was written in sections based on how i was feeling vs, in the order u read it. so, if you're already up to date and would like both early access and to lend a hand. comment or dm me. I'm not set on how many people can beta read so just reach out.
edit: also, please specify if you are interested in beta reading one chapter or being a repeat beta reader (however many times you want or permanently)
Spent all of last night reading your Daggers and Daffodils fic,, I can’t get enough, not enough fics about him imo. I’d love to be tagged for any future chapters if that’s ok. Please and thank you
I don't keep it a secret that I'm Polynesian but I guess I'll come out and say specifically I am Kanaka (native hawaiian) . And holy shit the live action lilo and stitch has me heated.
Do. Not. Watch. This. Movie
It is genuinely pure government and anti-hawaiian propaganda they reshaped to advertise their new resort.
They removed any and ALL conversations about the negative effects of tourism on locals. Casted non native actors for major roles. And made Nani GIVE UP LILO. then leave her homeland to study for a degree she could have gotten for free back home.
For context, native Hawaiians and native Americans have TERRIBLE history with the us government and CPS. They have historically stolen native kids with no warning and placed them in unsafe conditions as well as physical labor. They also used this tactic to assimilate us and destroy our culture. Aka banning the Hawaiian language in their private schools that they would kidnap them to.
On top of that, majority of Hawaiians live outside our homeland because they're priced out thanks to gentrification. Nani leaving one of the best places to learn where she would have gotten a free education in one of the best programs in the world is tone deaf and ridiculous.
To be even more open I am also a queer writer, and it doesn't need to be said that pleakly being out of drag is blatantly Disney executives being homophobic and greedy.
The way every interview pushes the fact that Disney made this movie a nightmare to work with but breathing down the crews neck while giving them a terrible budget to work with.
Everyone I know hates this fucking movie
I still live in Hawaii which is rare and a privilege for Kanaka. Do not be fooled this is them pushing they're new resort at the expense of creative freedom, native independence, and fans of the original.
do not go to this resort!
If you are absolutely dead set on coming to Hawaii, please be respectful and support local businesses and culture.
Anyways sorry I got heated. But anyone pushing this movie can go fuck themselves. Hawaiians have been pretty damn clear how we feel about this movie and the fact that some of y'all don't care speaks volumes about yourselves. The same goes for anyone harassing the child actor for lilo. She did amazing and was the one good thing from all of this.
To my mutuals and people who have also called out the Bullshit respect and love y'all so much.
