🍻ಥ_ಥ🍻

I swear, I'm active! I just never post... or reblog... I have a problem. And it's me

[crazy-nerdy]

Who Am I? Who Am I?

(it's a song)

✨Bunny ✨

(the sparkles are important),She/Her, Aries, I'm in my 20s~

INTP-T, if it matters. Not sure what the -T stands for ¯\_( ￣ -￣)_/¯

Requests: Not taking any. I realised that while I have many WIPs I suck at finishing them, so it would be for the best not to take any.

Masterlist:

HTTYD

Hiccup x reader

Dangerous Game

Grounded

She is my wife!

[crazy-nerdy]

Colour Tag Game!

Thanks for the tag @mrskennedy-07!!!!

(and the template✨)

I wasn't sure if the character was supposed to be a favourite or one that reminds me of me. I went with the first option.

[starkissedverses]

"The Love You Left Behind"

Synopsis: After returning to Raccoon City nearly 30 years after its destruction, Leon comes to the rubble of your workplace. Within it, he finds the walking remnants of you, his lover from 28 years ago. Ship(s): Rookie!Leon & Requiem!Leon x girlfriend! medical student! reader (slight canon divergence, Leon was not late on his first day because of a breakup) Theme(s): Angst, hurt with NO comfort, story told through several flashbacks, people do dumb things in grief, inspired by "The Love You Left Behind" by Michael Schulte and "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane (blue denotes lyrics to the songs) Content Warning(s): character death, some violence and potentially intense description of Leon putting down zombies, swearing, one mention of wanting to throw up, long because I'm insane, an unkissed brick, Leon cries again does that count?

Raccoon City didn’t look any smaller than it did 30 years ago. In fact, memory had a bad habit of making everything bigger- the Raccoon City in his mind had wider roads, skyscrapers reaching for the heavens. Now, though, everything had changed. Roads were littered with the rubble of those towering skyscrapers, decrepit and caved in like the roads that had once carried ordinary citizens to and from work, school, other activities of daily life. The first Raccoon City in his mind had been one of neon and noise- life milling about as it did, a bustling city that he had once upon a time taken an oath to protect. Leon had joined the academy to see the lives of ordinary citizens safe, to ensure that the children in Raccoon City would be able to live lives without fear, without going through what he had in his own youth. But he had never gotten to see that version of the city in his dreams. Instead, his first day- once intended to be an initiation into the city’s police force- was one that would come to haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future. He no longer awoke from his slumber each night drenched in cold sweats, the visions of the B.O.W.s plaguing his dreams until he could no longer rest- those nights were fewer and more far between- but he could never quite erase it entirely from his memory. Quiet reminders of that night always lingered in the back of his mind, feeding the reminders that he couldn’t save anyone- not even himself. September 30th, 1998. The end of Leon Kennedy’s beginning. Thirty years ago, he had run from this city with blood on his hands and a promise at his back, an understanding that he would never again see the Raccoon City he had been so adamant to protect. Now, it seemed, that promise had come back to collect. Rubble crunched beneath his feet with every step he took, each footfall kicking up a cloud of dust and ash that burned his nose, filling his every sense with the fallout. As much as he reminded himself to focus on his mission, he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander the slightest bit as he took in his surroundings. The gun shop in which he had met Mr. Kendo…and his daughter. An Italian restaurant he had once promised his partner that he would take them when they reunited in Raccoon CIty. His heart ached, and he stopped in his tracks. His partner.

He had met you when he was in the academy. Still a green, bright-eyed rookie who was all but enthralled by his upcoming assignment as soon as he graduated. You, at the same time, were set to arrive not long before he did, having finally been accepted into a medical school of your dreams and beginning your first clinicals at Raccoon City General. “It’ll be perfect!”  you had joyously exclaimed as you all but threw yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug as soon as you opened that acceptance letter. “I get to go to Raccoon City too! We won’t have to worry about long distance.” You were beaming that day, the elation of being matched into a program you loved and the dissipating worry of potentially having to navigate a long-distance relationship or worse, going your separate ways, had you glowing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, absentmindedly nodding along to whatever it was that you had said. His hands had settled around your waist, lifting you off the ground in a hug, face buried in your neck as he inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume, the scent faint yet consuming all of his senses. The scent of home. “Yeah,” he had rasped, holding you tighter. “Yeah, we won’t. I knew you’d get in. If anyone could, it would be my brilliant, brilliant girl.” He would get to build a home with you. It would be difficult, sure, navigating your respective lives in a new place. Medical school was difficult and sure to occupy a large portion of your time, not to mention your energy. He imagined the first years of your new beginning together would be slow, low-energy dates. Cuddling on the couch, watching the same trash movies you always talked him into watching whenever you were together. Falling asleep tangled in each others’ embrace, your head on his chest and dozing off to the gentle beating of his heart and your soft breathing in a cozy symphony.

He hadn’t thought about you in a while, he realized. At least, not consciously. He would never stop thinking about you, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. Even if his thoughts were not focused on you, as they often were not allowed to be due to the demands of his line of work, he realized that you were often in the back of his mind even in the little ways. Remembering your favorite flower whenever he’d seen one. Humming along to your favorite song as if it were second nature to him. “Leon!” Your voice danced across his memory, and he turned his shoulders to follow the ghost of you in his mind, the same path you’d always traced through his apartment kitchen. “Come on, dance with me!” It was barely a request, already decided by the young woman in his space that he would be joining you whether he wanted to or not. The sound of your playlist filled the kitchen quietly, a backdrop to the comfortable silence that had filled the space between you up until then as you cooked dinner together. Carbonara, you had insisted, was the perfect beginner meal to make together. “I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand…”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide–!” You grabbed his hand before he could even finish the thought, spinning into his arms with a laugh as your arms came to drape around his shoulders. “Alright, alright, Princess. The ballroom floor is yours. But if I step on your toes, you can’t be mad at me.” He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, inhaling your presence as his hands settled on the dip of your waist. There isn’t really space to dance. The kitchen is small, all he could afford reliably on what meager savings he’d put together while he was in the academy, but you made it work. You always did. His other hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together before he begins to sway. The rhythm is uneven at first as he found the rhythm to both the song and you. “I’ll just… have to turn you into a frog, then!” Leon laughed, blonde hair falling into his face as he shook his head. The singer’s voice has blended into the background by now, little more than background noise to all of his thoughts consumed by you, of this quiet moment within your own little world with him. Outside, the world continues- traffic rolls, time passes by- but here? Here, there is only this moment. Everything narrowed down to the now. The faint music, the feeling of your soft skin under his hand as his thumb brushed against your wrist the best he could manage without letting you go. His love pressed against his chest as he looked down to meet glimmering eyes he had all but fallen in love with the first time he’d seen them. “There are worse things to be turned into,” he hummed. “But I could handle being a frog if it meant I still got kisses from you, Princess.” He spun you slowly, hand finding the dip of your spine as he brought you into a dip, his lips ghosting over yours faintly. “Just promise not to let me croak, okay, doc?” You rolled your eyes, half-heartedly attempting to shove him away from you at his dumb joke. His grip did not falter, though, and he held you steady once again as he straightened you out once again, hands pulling you in once again for a proper kiss this time.  "This could be the end of everything, so why don’t we go somewhere only we know?”

His forehead met yours, eyes closed as he savored the moment with you. Slow dancing in the kitchen was almost a date night tradition for the two of you by now. It wasn’t planned, of course, but it was natural. Somewhere over the course of the night, you would find your way into each other’s arms, circling in the few spare feet of your own personal bubble.

He didn’t notice that the song was already over, too enthralled in appreciating the beauty in his arms, the heavy beating of his heart that grew ever stronger as every second passed with you in his embrace. “Do you remember when you first heard this song? When you told me you didn’t like it?” He listened to the lyrics for a few moments before a breathy laugh escaped him when recognition finally came to him.  "Maybe I'm hopeless, but I'm only human..." “I hope that you know that I’d give it all for a moment with you,” Your voice, singing along to the familiar song brought him back to the present. He didn’t answer your question immediately, letting himself fall into a rhythm of dancing with you once again. He guides you across the floor of the kitchen, careful not to crash you into the dining room table as his movements got ever so bolder. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” His head nudged your own softly as he tucked you back into him. “I told you I didn’t get it.” You had carried this conversation on before the two of you were official, when he was still dancing around the desire to ask you to start going steady. Biweekly coffee dates, late night phone calls, flowers every time he saw you, yet no label. Denial was the label his friends had put on it for him- denial that he was actually developing feelings for a girl he knew that he may eventually have to leave behind if their fated courses were to diverge. You looked up at him, eyes glimmering with warmth and chin resting on his chest. “And now?” His lips found your forehead, lingering there for a few moments. “Now? Now, I get it.” He got you. "These cold hands, this burning heart, will always be hollow without you.”

Holding you in his arms for a few more moments, he let himself simply appreciate the space you filled at his side. You’d picked him up after joining the academy, after the separation from his last partner. You’d been friends at first, but Leon’s hopeless heart had done little to stop the feelings that grew ever present more and more by the day. It wasn’t until you’d found yourself staying over at his place during a storm that those feelings came to light between the two of you. “I love you,” he murmured in the comfortable silence, as if speaking it too loudly would shatter whatever this was. “Thank you…” His head dipped to bury in your neck. “Le, what are you thanking me for?” The nickname slipped out so easily now. It filled him with warmth. It was short, simple, and barely a change from his name. But it was wholly, undeniably yours.

“For being here. For not leaving my sorry ass.” Fingers finding his hair, you tugged on the soft blonde locks to get him to pull back and look at you. “Le, you don’t have to thank me for being your girlfriend. Really, it’s–” “I mean it.” His hands gripped your waist again, bordering on painful. “I know this isn’t exactly the life fitting of a doctor. One bedroom apartment in the busiest part of the city. I can’t provide everything for you yet, not until I finish with the academy, but…I will. I promise.” He sounded almost like he was on the verge of tears. “I’ll get there. I’ll be able to give you everything you want. A ring, one worthy of the person who lit up my life like the brightest star in the sky. A house to raise our family in. Our future will be bright.” Your hands found his face, your steps slowing until you stopped, just cradling his cheeks in your hands. “Leon Scott Kennedy-” Gods, hearing his name fall from your lips got him weak at the knees. For a brief moment, he imagined giving that name to you, dancing like this in a different scene. The blue sundress you currently wore longer, and white. Maybe it was too early to pop that question- it definitely was- but your impending move to Raccoon CIty would be one step closer. You’d agreed to move in with him, sharing an apartment in the city that you would both start anew in together. You’d be going first since your clinical rotation started earlier than his assignment began, meeting the movers and ensuring everything was in place before he joined you about three weeks later.  One day. And he couldn’t wait. 

He never made it to that apartment to meet with you. The last time he had seen you in person was the morning he said his temporary goodbye, sending you off with a chaste kiss and the promise to tell you all about his last weeks in the academy, about everything you had missed while you were separated. You had been unable to attend his ceremony, having fought tooth and nail to get an excuse from your clinical shift that week to no avail. You were left to hope that you would eventually see photos, sooner or later.  He wondered where you were these days. Every time he thought about you, fighting back the sharp pain that bloomed in his chest each time, he pictured your escape from the city, getting out and starting anew elsewhere. Had you moved on in the last 30 years? Gotten married, started a family with someone else? He’d always imagined that the two of you would have a daughter together, a miniature version of you that he would get to watch grow up into the same type of intelligent, resilient woman that had raised her. Elena. It was the name that came to mind every time he’d had the thoughts. Bright light, to accompany the nickname he had given you,  his Golden Girl. You were his sunlight, the bright warmth that greeted him at the beginning of every day, and the light that shone upon him at the beginning of every dark night he spent weathering through night terrors. 

Light streamed through the window of his bedroom, bathing the both of you in a warm gentle light as the sun crested the horizon to greet the world and guide it through a new day.

Rolling over onto his stomach, Leon was lured closer by a familiar weight to his left. Reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, he pulled you to him, his chest finding your back as he buried his face in your neck. “Good morning,” he mumbled, tucking you securely into his grasp with a sense of finality, closing his eyes again with the full intention of going back to sleep holding you. “Not time to get up yet. Go back to sleep.” He was successful for a short while, letting himself doze off again when your contented sigh made way for the sound of your rhythmic breathing only a few minutes later. He wondered if you were ever truly lucid, or simply half-awake when he’d slid you closer. You only stayed asleep for another half hour before your eyes fluttered open and the cruel state of consciousness fell upon you. Groaning lightly, you moved to sit up in bed, only to be stilled by Leon’s arms resolutely holding you in place. A soft laugh escaped you and you settled back into his grasp, slowly turning over to face him. He wasn’t quite awake yet, affording you a few minutes to simply observe his sleeping features. He was so peaceful like this, face relaxed with the soft embrace of slumber. His nose twitched every so often as a strand of his hair brushed against his face, and a smile grew upon your features as you reached out to brush it back to protect his peace. A larger hand caught your own as Leon pressed your palm to his cheek for a moment before turning his head to press his lips against your palm, eyes still closed. He lingered for a few moments before his attention was on you once again, baby blue eyes meeting your own. He settled his head back into the pillow, but not before leaning forward to press his lips to yours, something he had once promised you would always be the first thing he did in the morning. “Morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, voice low and scratchy from sleep. “Sleep well?” 

You propped yourself up on an elbow beside him, your other hand idly moving to begin tracing patterns on his bare shoulder. “I always do when I’m with you,” you hummed. “You want breakfast, or do you want to stay here a little bit longer? You gotta go in today?” He shook his head. “Nope, not today. Come here, you.” Reaching out as soon as he sat up to lean against the headboard, he pulled you back to his chest until he had your weight against his shoulder. “No plans for today, either. Do I get a day to do nothing but spend time with my golden girl?” His lips pressed against your shoulder where it peeked from the collar of the t-shirt you had stolen from his dresser to sleep in. “Breakfast can wait.” Tipping your head upward, you observed your boyfriend, warmth growing in your chest. He really had grown into himself more throughout the course of your relationship, namely with showing affection to you. You had to hold back a laugh at the memory of him turning your favorite plushies around before he would even kiss you for the first time. 

“They can’t watch that kind of debauchery!” he had exclaimed then, much to your chagrin, before you pulled him into you, his face flushed pink and breathless in the aftermath. 

“What are you thinking about?” His lips caught the corner of your mouth, you having failed to hide the smile during your reminiscence, and an inquisitive hum rumbled through him. “You.” The answer was simple, honest. “Well, us. Where we were and where we’re headed. Raccoon City is where it’s all really going to begin for us, huh?” “Yeah, yeah it is.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, contemplative, as you thought of the future that was fast approaching for you. You had worked so hard to get here already, many sleepless nights during your undergraduate degree to get the credits you needed to graduate early. Day in and day out, you worked and worked, often wondering if the struggle was worth it and worrying about where you would go if you weren’t accepted to the medical schools you had applied to. Would you have to end things with Leon? Would you be happy knowing you had gotten into a school that wasn’t one of your first picks? Would you get in at all? 

‘Of course you’ll get in.’ Leon’s voice echoed in the recesses of your mind, just as it had every time you had begun to express these doubts to him. ‘You’re my golden girl, and you’ve got a good head on those shoulders. And if they don’t accept you, I’ll…I’ll find a reason to arrest them for you.” He hadn’t been serious, of course, but it had cheered you up nonetheless. In the pause that stretched between the two of you, Leon’s hand had found the charm of the necklace that had dipped under your collar, gently twisting the charm between his fingers. He had made it for you, somehow, during a brief stint with interest in crafting. He had wanted to gift you something to show his appreciation for you as his partner, but nothing he could find was quite good enough to suit the image of what he had in mind. 

“I tried to make it perfect.” He had looked away when he presented her with the box over breakfast that morning several weeks ago. “But…” You’d smiled softly at the gesture, lifting the necklace from the box and examining it. The pendant was small, a dented disk that was hand-engraved with a crude, uneven design. He’d intended for it to be molded into the shape of the sun, if the person looking at it squinted and tilted their head, created while he sat at the kitchen table, fumbling with tools he barely knew how to use. “I’d rather it be yours. It’s beautiful. Thank you, Leon.” She undid the clasp with skilled hands. “Will you help me put it on?” Nodding energetically, he had done exactly that, fumbling with the clasp for a few minutes before finally succeeding in his endeavor. Brushing your hair out of the way once more, he’d pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck before stepping back from you. You’d worn it every day since then. 

“Are you nervous?” He finally asked, slowing his fidgeting with the charm. “A little,” you answered honestly on an exhale, breath light before you let an anxious little chuckle escape from you. “But…I’m excited, too. I mean, we’re starting a new life. Why wouldn’t I be? Besides, we won’t be apart for too long.” “Hey, three weeks is a lot of time for things to happen.” His hand migrated to rub your arm. “The world could end in three weeks, you never know.” You playfully pushed him away. “Even if it did, you’ll still come back to me, you loser.” He laughed, pulling you flush against him once again before finally moving to sit up with the intention of getting out of bed. “I’d always come back to you, golden girl.” He kissed you lightly. “Now, come on. Let’s go get breakfast.”

He didn’t realize that he had gone the wrong way until he looked up at the remains of Raccoon City General Hospital. Perhaps part of him had forgotten his mission objective, letting his mind do more than just wander in passing. It was a source of pride for Raccoon City. Alongside the R.P.D. headquarters, the city hospital featured some of the most ornate exterior decoration, a testament to the history the facility had grown alongside the rest of the population. The inside technology had always been advanced for the times, cutting-edge and attracting patients from even the farthest corners of the large city. 

You had always been enthralled by the technological advancements headed by the hospital under the guidance of Umbrella. You’d been proud of working there, even, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the corporation still had you under its employ, wherever you’d found yourself in the aftermath. Did you know what Umbrella had done to the people you wanted nothing more than to protect? 

His head craned upwards to look at the remnants of the large facility. It stood ahead of him in a broken silhouette, upper floors sheared over by the blast that had cleaved the top half from the bottom in seconds, its concrete bones and wire ribs exposed to the elements. Wind moved through the upper portion freely now, carrying once-white bedsheets like flags of surrender where they were partially trapped under rubble and debris. Nearly thirty years and it still hadn’t finished falling, instead standing as a cold reminder of the night that changed his entire world nearly three decades ago. 

What remained of the facility’s perimeter signage was rusted over the years, the directional signs having faded until they were illegible and any authority eroded alongside them. His gaze traced the outline of the building once more, his current mind attempting to reconcile the signt before him with the one he carried in his memory. There would have been life inside, then, bright lights and people milling about. He imagined you looking down at him from one of those upper floor windows as he passed by during one of his patrols, waving at him as you leaned against the glass. He swallowed thickly, unable to stop himself as he approached the front doors of the facility. His gun hand hovered over his holster as he broke the barricade away, breaching the doors with one swift kick to the hinges, giving way with a dry metallic groan. 

Dust and ash covered the interior of the hospital in a thick blanket, undisturbed over the past years. The air was stale, heavy, and the lobby was barely recognizable now between the caved-in ceiling and broken tiles scattered about like an abandoned puzzle. His gaze found the clock on the far side of the room, long frozen in time at 2 P.M. “Still punctual,” he mumbled to himself. The time you often found yourself calling him on days you weren’t together, having started your lunch break right around that time. “Hope you aren’t mad at me for being late to this one, sweetheart.” He climbed over the reception desk that had been thrown sideways, metal drawers pulled out and long emptied, and ventured further inside. 

He moved slowly, gaze catching on fragments of the life that stood frozen in time. A wheelchair knocked upon its side. 

A child’s shoe, dingy and half-charred. Metal chairs fused to the floor and to each other from the heat.

Had they gotten out? Your first unit had been on the third floor, that much he remembered. How could he forget? You’d seldom stopped expressing your excitement over getting to work in one of the pediatric units. You were perfect for that part of the job. He had looked forward to seeing the change you brought about in their world. 

The climb to the third floor felt much longer than it should have, as if the very building itself resisted the idea of being revisited, and was attempting to keep him away. By the time he reached the unit, the sky was beginning to darken, the whisperings of sunset impending not far off. Muted light spilled through jagged openings in the half-collapsed walls of the rooms where remnants of normal life still clung stubbornly to the notion of normal existence. The horizon spanned wide and indifferent in the distance, not sparing him any more time to reminisce. 

“I was late,” he murmured into the dead-silent air around him as he looked around at what could, and would have been. Colorful paint that once colored every wall was muted, peeling and chipping away from the patterns that had had been painstakingly placed there to keep the young patients from being scared in the cold, clinical white walls of the hospital. “I told you I’d come back to you. I guess I couldn’t keep that promise, huh?” 

A gust of wind threaded through the broken structure as he looked outside, singing a mournful song to carry forth to him. He refused to turn and chase its voice. There was no point. Instead, he found the old paper that he’d kept with him on every mission since then. It was old now, yellowed and worn at the edges, creased from the constant folding over the years. It had been taken after your first official date at your insistence, captured in a moment that had no idea what was coming for them down the road. It had rarely left his side when he was sent out on a mission. Sherry had offered to give him a restored version, rendered again with modern technology and breathing new life into the old, lower-quality photograph. He had always refused, wanting to keep you with him in the same form he remembered you since then. 

“I’m still looking. Just in case you’re wondering.” He wouldn’t stop, that he had vowed the second he was out of Raccoon City. There would only ever be you, even if it took him 30 more years to find you. If you had that much time, he thought wryly, fist tightening at the grim reminder of the growing black splotches up the expanse of his arm and neck. 

Silence was the only thing that answered him, and the wind with its ongoing, mourning song. “Yeah. I figured as much.”

Turning from the hospital room, accompanied only with his thoughts, he paused at the doors. Opening his mouth as if he wished to speak, he silenced himself with a shake of his head before continuing on his path.

Making way towards the stairwell once again, deciding it was high time to get back to his mission now that he was in his right mind once more, his footsteps faded into the hollow quiet of the hospital. 

He had only gotten halfway down the corridor before something slid across the floor behind him. No, not slid. This was soft, carrying a rhythm to it. Something was dragging. Turning around, retrieving his firearm from the holster at his side, he trained his eyes on the junction of the next hallway. Every one of his instincts stood on high alert, decades of training and fighting pulling him still. Sneaking forward closely, he prepared to turn the corner and face the creature that he’d certainly alerted. This was a hospital. If there was one, there was likely more not far behind it. The sound came again, this time closer. Turning the corner, he pointed his firearm at the B.O.W. at the far end of the corridor, moving between the shadows. The figure moved unsteadily, lumbering forward toward him and catching itself against the wall with a jerking, unnatural gait. 

His world narrowed to a single, unbearable point, blue eyes widening in disbelief as they focused on it. Time and decay had taken their share of the body, that was certain. What remained of its hair hung in uneven strands, greyed with dust and ash with each brittle strand. Light pink scrubs, once purchased with the intention of making the wearer more welcoming to the younger population, were torn and fused to char-darkened skin. One arm hung at an angle that would not be seen on a living, breathing human, the other extended straight out with fingers twitching in small, aimless motions. 

But when the setting sun glimmered against a dented, circular pendant, he suddenly felt the contents of his stomach threatening to make a reappearance. 

“No…”

Thirty years was a long time to think of different endings, and Leon Kennedy had likely come up with dozens of scenarios in his mind on how he would reunite with you. None of them looked like this. Not a single one had prepared him for this, for the way his legs rooted him into the ground as if they suddenly weighed two tons. 

“You… You’re not…” He couldn’t find his words. What could he even say? It couldn’t understand him. You couldn’t understand him. 

“Hey.” Despite his more rational brain and better judgement, he found himself trying anyway. Hope foolishly bloomed in his chest for a fleeting moment, unable to be schooled just yet. He knew this was hopeless, he was hopeless, but part of him still could not bring himself to believe that this was the reality he was living. Pinch him, wake him up. Bring him back to the reality where he got to wake up with you asleep beside him again. Anything but this. “You remember me?” The plea escaped his mouth before he could pull it back. “It’s me. Hey, it’s Leon. I-” It lunged. It was erratic and sudden, stumbling. Hunger and instinct were the only things that controlled what had once been you. There had been no recognition that crossed your features despite his reminder. He knew there wouldn’t be. He tried anyway. It was wrong. This was all wrong. He shouldn’t be finding you here. You shouldn’t be here. You should be outside of the city limits, happy and healthy with the family you had wanted to build, even if it wasn’t with him.

Knowing what he knew now, he should never have let you follow him into Raccoon City, into the clutches of the organization that had taken so many people from him. Even if it meant that you would have been led away from him, into someone else’s arms, or to an entirely different path in which the two of you became little more than strangers, supporting roles in each other’s stories. 

His training snapped him back, the instinct to survive driving him to move aside, swiftly grabbing the wrist extended towards him and twisting until he heard a sickening snap as he only worsened what was broken. You stumbled forward, slamming into a nearby wall with heavy impact and a snarl before rounding back on him. His heart pounded in both fear and sickening recognition as he stepped back, hands returning his gun to the space in front of him as he observed her from downsight. He should shoot, his mind screamed at him. Shoot, before this went too far. “No,” he repeated, louder this time. Even he wasn’t sure if it was at his thoughts, or at the situation he had found himself in. “No!” Your hand reached for his chest again. Turning his head away so he wouldn’t have to watch himself do it, he fired. The sound was deafening, a sharp sequence of cracks that shattered the fragile silence. The recoil of his firearm, the Requiem that sang only for you, jolted up his arm as he aimed true with one, two, three shots. The sound of the weight hitting the ground as you crumpled was almost cathartic. His stomach still threatened him, as did the burning behind his eyes that still refused to look at the body on the floor, but in his own dark way, Leon almost felt a semblance of peace for you at knowing that you would no longer have to live as something you would hate. If you had been lucid enough, and still had an ounce of humanity to you, would you have asked him to do the same? To grant you mercy and take you away from the suffering you would undoubtedly face as you turned? 

Would he have been able to do it if you had?

His grip faltered at the thought of you in what had been your last moments. Were you alone? Or had you barricaded yourself in with the children on the unit, holding them close and keeping them calm despite your own rising panic? He hoped it was the latter. You had always been the most gentle presence in his life, and if there was anyone who could keep those kids calm even in the face of impending danger, it would be you. Selfishly, he also hoped it meant you hadn’t been alone at the end. The thought of you, alone and forced to sit idly by as those all-too-familiar black splotches bloomed against your skin tore at the very fabric of his being. He had never wanted you to be alone.

Setting his jaw and remaining there unmoving for a few more beats, his arm slowly lowered, slipping the gun back into his holster securely. And finally, he looked at you. Rather, what had once been you. The version of you in his mind was alive and well, not laying half-decomposed and forgotten in the walls of the hospital you’d thus devoted your time and life to, cursed to wander these corridors until something granted you the kindness of permanent rest. 

“I’m sorry.” The words felt inadequate. “I should’ve been there.” Against his wishes, a traitorous tear slid down his face, leaving tracks in the grime settling on his features. Dust stirred around him as he knelt upon one knee at your side. Wind passed through broken walls again, its wail echoing the one he was warring with himself to contain. A gloved hand brushed back brittle, ash-kissed hair, remembering what it had felt like twenty-eight years ago beneath his fingers, smooth and familiar when he carded through the locks every time you fell asleep against him. 

“You wanted to save lives here.” His voice was rough,breaking halfway through the sentence. “And I couldn’t be there to save yours. I’m so sorry.” His hands were shaking, and his gaze tore from you to stare at them as if they were not his own. They belonged to someone else, surely, and that would explain how they had done what he’d done. 

”But all the love you left behind will always…”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Against his better wishes, a sob tore through his throat, sudden and violent, as he all but buckled, curling over the remains of you as twenty-eight years of worry, of wondering where you had disappeared to, came to the surface at the cruel truth that you had been here. And that he would never get to live out any of those visions of your reunion, even if they were too far in the future to rekindle anything at their age. “You were– Fuck, you were looking at me, but it wasn’t you. I… I’m so fucking sorry.”

He stayed there with you until the sun threatened to set on him, casting him into a darkness that would only bring new horrors alongside it. Part of him didn’t care, couldn’t bring himself to care now that he had lost you officially, but the rational part of him reminded him that he not only had Grace to rescue, but the part of him that you remembered. You wouldn’t want him to stay here, to give up and die, after all. He had promised to become a man worthy of you, and that was a promise he fully intended to uphold, especially now. When he could no longer stay by your side, having no more tears left to cry and leaving himself with only trembling shoulders with each heaving sob, Leon wiped his eyes and slowly schooled his emotions once more. Focus.

Rising to his feet, Leon paused only to remove the sun pendant from your neck. His hands trembled still, fumbling with the clasp just as he did 28 years ago when he had first placed it around your neck. It was old, fragile, and practically melted shut. Finally managing to remove it from your eternally still form, he tucked the pendant into one of the pockets of his harness. It was missing a few of the rays he’d painstakingly crafted all those years ago, having been lost to time and the erosion of nature, but it was so heartbreakingly you.

“I’m sorry I was late. A lot happened in three weeks, but…”

He hesitated again when it came time to say goodbye to you, standing a few paces away and looking back to where he’d left you. 

“Your loser came back to you,” he said quietly, turning his back on the past once again as he took his firearm from its holster again to fight his way out of the facility. “Goodnight, my Golden Girl.” "...Remind me of you"

All dividers by the wonderful @/strangergraphics!

Author's Notes: I had tormented a friend of mine with this idea a while ago and decided it was time to commit to the bit. Big thanks to Enso for sitting with me and making me lock in to finish it! Also... big thanks to Petal for being my first victim in beta...I love you pookie I'm sorry for making you cry even though you don't even go here Likes, comments in tags and thoughts ALWAYS appreciated! I feed off of knowing y'all like what I write And, as ALWAYS, do not feed any of my works through AI systems of any sort. Keep AI out of creative spaces.

[crazy-nerdy]

Break my heart why don't you 😭😭😭

[cure-whimsy]

[hijacksecrets]

SPIDERVERSE HICCUP SPIDERVERSE HICCUP

I've been wanting to draw Hiccup in the spiderverse style for ages and I've been working on this thing off and on xD and now I finally finished it! I added a glitch animation for fun because i love the glitch effects in procreate, hehe

I might do Jack next, we'll see how long he takes me to do!

[crazy-nerdy]

This looks so cool!!!!!

[lo-batteryy]

My delusion is that she looks like this

[crazy-nerdy]

Isekai Idea Concept

The results are out! Well, they were out last week, I just didn't have time to announce them... Oh well.

The winner was the isekai idea! Yayy!

ngl I was hoping that this idea would win because I find the idea of writing a character that can't speak the language everyone else does a fun challenge to tackle.

Anyway, I haven't figured out all the details yet. It was one of those weeks, you know?

But I did write a little concept idea of how the first meeting would go between Hiccup and the reader. So, I am going to name it a beta concept, so there is a more concrete version of the idea floating around. While it's not the first chapter, it can give you an idea of what it will be about.

I wrote this in one sitting, so I am not particularly happy with it, but I think it's okay enough to share.

Hiccup x Isekaied!Reader

Warnings: None, maybe descriptions of injuries, but there are almost no details.

I haven’t watched the episode where Hiccup and Snotlout got stranded in Outcast Island yet, so there will definitely be some timeline inconsistencies

There was something so stupid and so humiliating about being found and captured by the Outcast tribe after all the times he and the rest of the gang had thoroughly kicked their asses. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes internally as he remembered how all the things that could have gone wrong had gone wrong today. He hoped that Toothless would come to save him, but with the basted tail prosthetic, Hiccup was more worried that Toothless would be putting himself in danger. 

Alvin wasn’t as obsessed with Toothless as Dagur, but if his upbringing had taught him anything, it was that a Night Fury was a big prize no matter the final goal. Does that mean that Snotlout was the only one he could hope to help Toothless get him out? 

Yeah… that’s not gonna work out. With wild dragons in cages and a very stubborn Alvin with an island of Outcasts on their heels, whatever rescue mission is attempted can only end in disaster.

He wondered if they would give him a ground or boat funeral. 

“Move it, boy!” The guard taking him to his cage shouted, pushing him forward. 

His eyes drifted to the caged dragons, his footing slowing down just a little as he made a few comments here and there, and Alvin barking orders based on them. Something about how Scauldrons should be given less water if they want to avoid getting boiled alive, something about the Whispering Deaths, the rest he didn’t remember. Too preoccupied thinking about all the ways a potential rescue could go wrong. 

Snotlout with his macho antics and Toothless trying to single-handedly get him out of wherever the Outcasts had stashed him. 

They stopped in front of yet another massive cave-looking cage. What’s up with the people of this island and their massive prisons? Overcompensating for something, maybe? Lack of brains? Lack of prisoners? Lack of everything? The island did look rather barren when they explored it earlier. 

Part of him wondered where they managed to get so much iron that they could be so wasteful with it. 

“Get in there!” Alvin yelled as the door opened and pushed him in. 

As if that was necessary. This was clearly a dragon-sized cage. He could have entered from between the bars with little effort. Like he said, lack of brains. 

Hiccup stashed the information away. If he could get out of here and into the cage of another dragon, maybe he wouldn’t need a funeral after all. Being the size of a toothpick had its advantages.

“You two be nice now, aye?” Alvin closed the door, banging his fist against it before leaving. 

“Two? Who else is he talking about?” Hiccup said out loud, turning to look at the rest of the cage, his eyes scanning for a dragon silhouette. 

Did they put him in a cage with a dragon? Alvin had a thing for trying to make Hiccup use his “dragon master” skills. 

That was either the smartest or stupidest move he could have pulled. 

“Okay, nothing here… Maybe a Changewing? How would they even capture one?” Hiccup chuckled but scanned the cave again, slower this time, just in case. 

“Okay… lets see…Rock, rock, more rock…” He mumbled as he turned his head from one side of the cage to the other. “Hmm… maybe in the darker part…” He walked deeper. “Nope. Rock, rock, person, rock, ah, look more rock.” He chuckled, “Did he think there was a dragon here? Oh, poor Alvin.” Hiccup shook his head, placing his hands on his hips, letting out another chuckle, and turning his body towards the door again.

“Now… Is there a dragon that will not try to kill me on sight?” Scauldrons and Whispering Deaths shouldn’t be anyone's first pick when you are in a hurry or a pinch. So maybe not. 

Wait…

He slowly turns his head back towards the end of the cage. 

Waaiit… 

He squints his eyes as his arms fall to his sides. 

Waaaiiiit…

Hiccup took a step deeper into the cage. He could now make out the outline of a curled-up person, face hidden behind knees and arms circling the legs, keeping the position tightly locked in place.

Fuck there was another person! What why?

He took another step closer. “Are you okay?” 

“I promise I am not an Outcast?” He phrased it as a question, but he wasn't sure how reassuring it was that he wasn’t an Outcast. Probably a lot.

“Can you hear me?” Were they asleep? In this place? He was now standing close enough to the stranger to make the not-so-subtle shaking. How did he miss that? At least they weren’t asleep. 

“Hey…” He spoke softly as he bent down, their hold on their body tightened as if that would keep him from approaching, or them from being seen. His hand extended slowly to touch their knee. “Hey, can you—” 

The stranger's whole body shook and stiffened violently the moment his fingertips made contact with their knee. They untangled themselves, their feet stretching out, kicking him in the process.

“Ow!” Hiccup exclaimed as he rolled on his back, hands clutching his now-injured leg. “Ow! Come on! Not the good leg!” He closed his eyes and bit his lips, trying to hold back in shouts of curses in case he made them even more scared. 

“Why would you do that!? What is wrong with you?” He turned to look at the leg-kicking stranger, eyebrows frowning and expecting the biggest of apologies. 

His eyes took in the appearance of his assailant, who now appeared to be standing, eyes moving slowly from the ground up. Weird foreign shoes, weird foreign clothes, arms nestled on their chest pushing against it as their back pushed against the wall with the desperate need of someone who wanted to get swallowed by it. One arm had a bruise that looked more and more like a handprint. His eyes traveled further up. Dried blood that had rolled down their collarbone connecting to a cut on their neck, and tear-stained cheeks. 

Hiccup stopped clutching his leg as he met their eyes. Red rimmed and puffy from crying and full of fear. 

What the fuck? A hostage? But why? 

Okay… Okay… He got this. 

Hiccup took a deep breath and swallowed as he sat up. He kept his eyes on the stranger, scooting a little backwards to create space between them. 

He watched as you took a few calming breaths and slowly slid down the wall until you were also sitting down. 

“Well, that was quite the introduction, huh?” He made an attempt at humour, but when his only answer was silence, he let out an awkward cough, looking away. Maybe talking wasn’t on the table yet. 

He kept stealing glances as he noticed your shaky breaths and occasional nose sniffing, along with your hands that were rubbing your arms so insistently it was impossible to hear. 

He cleared throat and wet his lips. “Are you cold?” 

Your eyes moved to meet his, but when his only reply was the hunch of your shoulders, he let out a slightly exasperated breath. This was starting to get old. But he was patient and he was understanding, he kept telling himself as he held back a big eyeroll. 

He took off his fur vest and held it out to you, waiting for you to take it. Your eyes met his for a second before moving to the vest and then back to him. 

Hiccup nodded to the vest and then nodded softly as he pushed it a little closer to you. You extended your hand slowly, taking hold of his vest and slowly putting it on. Your attention was taken by the sensation of the fur. As if you were trying to determine something about it. 

You mumbled something he couldn’t quite understand, but then again, your words were so low and muffled he doubted anyone would be able to understand them. 

His eyes wandered around the cage, trying to keep himself busy and from looking at you. He started to move air from one cheek to another, taking his fingers against one leg as he tried to soothingly rub the one you kicked, letting out a hiss every now and again. 

“Ah—” he heard the unknown voice, rough and hoarse from lack of use or maybe from its overuse. You swallowed hard and tried to clear your throat. “Are you okay?” You pointed to his leg. 

Hiccup turned to you, surprised. Groaning as he let his head fall down, one hand holding his forehead while his fingers rubbed his temples. He’s an idiot! Gods, he's an idiot! The answer was staring at him this whole time! Weird foreign clothes, weird foreign shoes. You weren’t playing the silent game! You didn’t speak his language, and from the sound of it, he didn’t speak yours. 

How could he not notice!? 

He lifted his head again to steal a peek at you, taking in your appearance. He groaned again, covering his eyes. 

He should feel grateful that no one else was here to witness his stupidity. Fishlegs would have noticed immediately. 

A few more words left your lips that probably meant something along the lines of ‘are you okay’. Probably. 

He lifted his head again to look at you properly as you poked his knee. 

“Sorry, does it hurt a lot?” Your words sounded soft and sincere, not that he would be able to tell if they weren’t, your eyes a mix of worry and guilt… he thinks. 

This would haunt him for the rest of his days. 

“Dinner time!” The voice of one of the guards echoed through the prison, followed by the sounds of banging metal. 

Any progress made to calm you down had vanished as you hurried deeper in the shadows, curling back into yourself with your hands covering your ears. 

“Here you go, dragon master, Alvin ordered us to feed you well," his apparent title left the guard’s lips sarcastically as he threw a loaf of bread in their direction. “Don’t feel compelled to share.” He laughed.

“It would be a waste.” Another adds as he passes by. 

Hiccup picked up the bread. “What does that mean?” He asked, walking along with the guards for as long as his cage allowed. 

“Non ‘o yer business boy.” 

Hiccup frowned as he stopped his path, now blocked by the wall. 

What did that mean?

Hiccup shook his head as he tried to clean the bread as best he could. He rolled his eyes, turning to walk back towards you. Outcast, he thought with the same sentiment that he would say ‘typical’. 

“Do you think the high lady would offer the girl to Odin?” 

“Probably Freya, since she is the goddess of Seiðr.” 

“No! Odin is the Allfather! A warrior and a man of magics! it makes more sense to give her to him.” 

The fading voices of the guards echoed again. 

Hiccup stopped walking again and turned his head back towards the voices. 

Offer? No that… No… 

He turned to look at you again, eyes widening and biting his lips as his worry broke through the roof. 

Fuck… he had to get you out of here.

[crazy-nerdy]

Story Ideas

Hello, hello! I am slowly but surely coming back from my hiatus!

I am not taking requests yet, but I have had way too many ideas for a Hiccup x reader story

And I mean many.

So I thought you guys could vote on which idea you would like to read about the most. So I don't burn myself out trying to build them all up.

Ignore the titles, I wrote this during my work break, so it was rushed.

Idea 1: At the corner of my eye, I see you:

Hiccup x HunterReader. Gender to be determined later.

Strangers to friends to lovers. Takes place during the first movie. You and Hiccup are both training to kill dragons, but you are in different classes. You have entered the dragon-killing training classes with the intent to be better at handling them while out hunting, and after finding out how Hiccup deals with them during training, you become interested and choose to approach him, asking for lessons.

In this story, you and Hiccup have separate friend groups that don't really interact with each other.

Inspired by Tuffnut’s line in the movie about wanting to be transferred to the class with the cool kids, and someone pointing out that there is no way that the gang are the only teens of Berk.

Idea 2: What the water gave me.

Hiccup x IsakaiedReader gender to be determined.

You are from the modern world but! In this story, HTTYD doesn't exist as a form of media. This takes place during the episode where Hiccup and Snotlout are stranded on Outcast Island. You are pulled through a paddle as if by magic, and end up on Outcast Island, where you don't understand anyone, and for some reason, a really pretty woman keeps trying to kill you. You can't speak the language, you can't read the language, and after managing to run away, you meet Hiccup, and he, along with Snotlout, helps you get away.

In this one, you were pulled to the world of HTTYD as the perfect sacrifice. The pretty woman is a witch/shaman/priestess who, upon calling to the gods for what or who would be the perfect medium for a curse which could help Alvin take over Berk, the gods reveal you to her. As such, she pulls you to their world and keeps trying to kill you as a means of completing the curse. Once Outcast Island and Berk have formed peace, she figures out that she can use you as a medium for any other spell, and therefore, the chase isn't really over.

Inspired by a Manga from the 90s, I read and I fell in love with and the reason why it starts in Outcast Island is because in the Books, Alvin's mother is a witch, and I used that as an inspiration, but nothing more.

Idea 3: How can we be friends?

Hiccup x FemReader

Arranged Marriage to just friends to lovers.

You are from the Berserker tribe. Oswald the Agreeable doesn't have a daughter, and you are the next best option to be given to Berk as a means of strengthening diplomatic relations. But after Dagur takes over as chief and you side with Berk in one of the many negative encounters he had with them, he exiles you, therefore making your and Hiccup's arrangement void. And now you have to refigure out your place on Berk because you are no longer the future chief's future wife.

Which story would you prefer to read?

Idea 1

Idea 2

Idea 3

Voting ended onOct 31, 2025

[crazy-nerdy]

I can't believe I just stumbled across your profile!! You have such an amazing way to write! The Dangerous Game and She Is My Wife fics have such an incredible way to be portrayed, it's just amazing!!

I love you and your writing so muchhh

Thank you so much for liking the things I wrote!!! 🥰🥰

[crazy-nerdy]

hye....i loev ur writinf and was wondering if i cpuld req... smily face (⌒‐⌒)

Hello! Thank you for liking my fics, but I am afraid that I can't complete any requests at the moment 🥲🥲

Life is a little relentless at the moment

[crazy-nerdy]

Oki so imagine the reader noticing tuffnuts ear piercings for the first time and is just in pure shock about how cool he is when you get past the stupid pranking and chaos to see he’s a cool and sweet person I really just like want the reader to be admiring him like he’s the coolest person alive and how he would react to that but like I feel like it would be like a year or so after dating so it comes as like more of a surprise ya know? Anyway thank you!!!

Hello!!! I would like to start by apologising that I haven't completed your request, even though I initially indicated it was okay to send it. Things are happening, and I have no time to fish for it, which is very sad for me.

I did start it, but I got really busy with other responsibilities, and I don't think I will be able to finish it.

[crazy-nerdy]

OH MY LORD THAT LAST FIC WAS ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS THANK YOU I have a question do you write for Tuffnut? I have more ideas per usual and no body else seems to ever be on tumblr anymore☹️

To be honest, I have never written anything for Tuffnut, but I do love exploring different characters, so you can send me an idea if you'd like. Though, make sure that it is a one-shot since I don't have the time to create a story...😅😅

[crazy-nerdy]

HEYYY I HAVE AN IDEA so like hiccup with saying “girlfriend?!?!?! That’s my WIFE” when someone says something along the lines of “tell your girlfriend to get out of my face” after they insult either reader or hiccup or just something like that

She is my wife!

Hiccup x Fem!reader 

Since the words girlfriend and wife were specifically used, I assumed that the reader is feminine.

I had something of a fight with my father, and I had the urge to punch an authority figure, which may or may not have slipped through in this fic.

Warnings: None in particular, there are some curses and the one horny thought from the reader.

You didn’t really get why you were here. No, that was a lie. You understood why you were here. 

One of the tribes allied with Berk had a dragon problem and as the “heralds” of the dragon-human peace and cooperation you and the dragon riders were expected to interfere in order to solve the problem. 

That and Hiccup would use any excuse to get out of Berk for a little while. Plus, it was hard to really entrust that task to anyone else. 

Politically speaking, sending someone other than Hiccup or the dragon riders could be viewed as Berk looking down on the tribe asking for help. On the other hand, someone inexperienced could make matters worse with the dragons in question. 

There was Valka, you supposed, she met all of the criteria as far as experience and status were concerned, but while her dragon skills were unmatched—except for maybe Hiccup— her people skills could still use some work.

So, yes, generally, you understood why you were here instead of someone else. You even understood why Hiccup had insisted you join him. Not that you would have let him go alone. He was prone to getting in trouble when left alone for prolonged periods of time. 

What you didn’t understand was why you were having a strategic meeting with this tribe about the dragon problem. Usually, you would go to wherever you were called to calm down the dragons, inspect the area for what is causing them to act out aggressively and proceed to lecture the villagers about what, why and how the problem occurred in the first place. 

You have been here for what felt like hours listening to the chief go on and on about things you were far too bored and uninterested in to pay attention to. You were sure that you zoned out at some point, only coming back to reality after Hiccup had taken hold of your hand, tagging at it softly. 

“So glad to see that you are back with us.” The sarcastic voice of the man sitting across from you rang in your ears. He was clearly displeased with your lack of attention. 

“Yeah… um, my mind drifted for a moment. I apologise.” You said not really feeling apologetic, but trying to appease the man on the other side of the table nonetheless. 

“It is alright.” His voice sounded rough and aged. “Not everyone can follow along with complex discussions.” He smiled condescendingly. 

The bastard wasn’t even trying to be tactful with his remarks. 

“Must be all the repetitions and dancing around the subject.” You said quickly, stopping Hiccup from answering.

Your hold on his hand tightened as he turned to look at you. He looked confused and a little concerned. Why were you stopping him? There was no reason to indulge this charade if this was how you were gonna be treated. 

You ran your thumb across his arm soothingly, holding his gaze, looking calm, trying to show that it’s okay. 

Hiccup’s lips pressed to a thin line, tightening his own hand around yours. 

“Perhaps you lack your chief’s ability to comprehend difficult words.” The chief’s voice ruined the tender moment.

There was a meaning to be had here. Someone of your station shouldn’t be present in a meeting between chiefs. Other than the obvious insult to your intelligence. Again.

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play it. “Perhaps the problem is that, unlike my chief—” Gods, calling Hiccup by his title felt beyond wrong—“you lack the ability to be concise and to the point.” 

Hiccup watched the exchange with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. So much for diplomatic relations.

“Watch your words, little girl.” The chief raised his voice, getting up from his chair, wood scraping against wood from the force. 

“Or what?” You get up, placing your hands on the table. Your eyes pinned on his, extending a challenge that, realistically speaking… you… would lose.

Hiccup let out a tiny groan as he also got up, placing a hand in front of each of you, trying to keep you both apart. “Aaaalright. I think we are getting way off subject. How about we take a break and get back after we all have—”

“You need to be more mindful of your people, Hiccup.” The chief turned his attention to Hiccup. “I can understand that love can make you want to be lenient, but even your loved ones are not above your rule.” He spoke with such conviction, like he was trying to teach and reprimand Hiccup at the same time. “You might be new to this, but you need to learn. Don’t insult your father’s legacy, boy.” 

Your mouth dropped open. The entire hut fell silent for a second. 

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you. You sad old man.” You said as you moved to jump across the table towards certain death.

“NO!” Hiccup yelled quickly, wrapping his arms around your middle. “No, no, no, no.” He kept repeating as he tried to move towards him. 

“Is this how you establish the law, boy? Get your girlfriend out of my face!” The chief yelled again. “And since she is so prone to acting wild, it is best to have her wait outside with the dragons.” He added, just as Hiccup had managed to get you away from the table and to his side. 

“First of all.” Hiccup’s voice rose as well. “She is my wife.” He emphasised. “And let me be clear that in this situation, you are asking us for help. It would be best to remember that every indulgence and goodwill that has been extended towards you that has nothing to do with your dragon problem has been because of my wife.” 

The chief was looking at Hiccup, surprised. You, on the other hand, felt rather smug about this particular turn of events. 

“We have wasted enough time here. We will deal with the actual reason for our visit now.”

He was so hot like this… You are definitely fucking him once you are back on Berk.

…

Damn your brain does not know how timing works.

He moved to leave the hut, taking hold of your hand and leading you outside with him. You threw a pleased look at the chief as you moved and batted your eyes, letting the feeling of victory radiate from you and further the old man’s shock.

Hiccup kept walking after you were both outside, not slowing his pace or letting go of your hand. Once he deemed that good enough, he suddenly stopped and turned to face you. 

He looked like he was about to say something, looking like a storm was held at the edge of his tongue. Instead, he just let out a deep exhale and let his head fall to your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” 

“Really? I thought I held back for quite a long time.” You said, running your fingers through his hair. 

Hiccup let out a weak laugh, putting his hands around your waist. “Still though…” 

“Still what? I think I did us both a favour. Now we can get on to doing what we actually came for and then go home.” You said feigning innocence. 

“You will be the end of all of Berk’s diplomatic relations.” He mumbled, giving you a quick peck on the lips. 

“Not all,” you said, giving him another kiss. “Just the annoying ones.”

[crazy-nerdy]

GIRL.WHEN IS TH SECIND PART OF DANGEROUS GAME COMING ITS A NEED AT THIS POINT

🙏 make it into a series

A series, you say? 🤔🤔

Well, I am writing part 2 of Dangerous Game, it's just taking a little longer since it's going to be steamy and I am writing it for a gn!reader, so I want to make sure it's done properly.

and I might have something like a prequel written from Hiccup's perspective and possibly a drabble in the works...

But you didn't hear that from me.

[crazy-nerdy]

I need the second part of dangerous game RIGHT NOW PLEASE

"Dangerous Game" wasn’t going to have a part 2, but it shall be done in honour of receiving my first request.

I am currently at uni in the middle of class and smiling like an idiot. I am surprised I can focus in class and that the professor hasn't called me out. 

I will make sure to tag you when I am done. 😘

[crazy-nerdy]

Grounded

Hiccup x G.N. reader

Pre-established relationship

Summary: Hiccup was banned from flying and getting more and more frustrated by the second.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

1.1k words

This is stupid. You thought to yourself. As you watched him pace around the forge.

He was trying to keep himself busy. Too many nerves and even more misplaced energy. His father had managed to tie him down with tasks and chores, and he wasn't happy about it. 

You would tell him to just sit down a moment and think, think about what he wanted to do, what he wanted to make… Hell, even what he can try to tidy up around the forge. 

But that wouldn’t help. All he was doing was think. 

What he needed was to fly.

“Okay, you are making me dizzy with all the pacing.” You said, crossing your arms and sitting down.

“Well, I’m busy.” He shot back as he put on his apron and pressed down on the bellows to heat the coal of the firepit.

“You are not finishing half the work you are starting, no matter what corner of the forge you end up in.” You countered, following his movements with your eyes.

That made him still just long enough to look at you. 

“Not true," He all but pouted.

“You started outlining leather that needed to be cut, and then you moved on to cutting some already outlined leather, and now you are heating up the furnace to— do what exactly?” You started pointing out all the things you noticed from the moment you entered the forge. 

“Yeah, well… there are a lot of things that need to be done.” He said like a scolded child and pressed the bellows down again.

You let out a sigh and walked towards him, “I am sure there are…” you started speaking, placing a hand on his wrist to stop his movements. “But you are not really finishing any of them.” You added gently, guiding him by his hand to turn and look at you. 

Hiccup turned his face to the side, his body radiating with frustration. “I have to finish up here at least.” 

“Why?”

“Because! Dad said I had to! He literally took Toothless away! Saying I can’t go flying until I’m done.” He said loudly, his breathing turning uneven. 

“Hiccup, your father didn’t take Toothless to some faraway land! He’s at the stables with all the other dragons.” You grabbed his other hand and shook his arms a little. “He’s sleeping, and playing with the others and probably stuffing his face with more fish than he can stomach because he is just as bummed out as you about not being able to go flying.” You bend down a little, trying to meet his eyes. 

“You could just walk in there and go flying.” You said tagging at his hands once more. 

“It’s not that simple…” He mumbled, looking at you like you had just suggested he commit some heavy crime. 

“Sure it is. It’s not like you have been particularly good at listening to your father anyway,” you said in a self-explanatory manner. 

Hiccup looked rather unimpressed at the mention of this particular habit of his.

“You start by going to the great hall and having some food—” You start speaking, ignoring the judgment you were receiving.

“Food?” He asked, turning to look at you weirdly.

“Yes, food. It’s lunch time, and even Gobber, who literally lives at the forge, has gone to the Great Hall to eat.” You explained, his face softened a little at the attempted humour. 

“Then, after you’ve eaten. You will take the conveniently placed stairs down to the stables and pick up Toothless, who will no doubt be ecstatic to see you, and fly out those massive entrance doors.” You finished laying out the plan in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Hiccup now had a small smile on his face as he listened to you. He had turned his head straight and was looking at you as he turned his hands to hold on to yours as well. 

“And if my dad has asked someone to stop us?” He said as a joke, trying to find holes in your plan on purpose. 

“Who is fast and dumb enough to try and stop the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself?” You said with absolute certainty. “Not to mention his psycho of a rider that jumps off of said dragon for fun.” You added, throwing him a mock–glare remembering when he used to do that in front of you just to freak you out. 

That did earn you a small laugh from him, the kind that had an argument on the edge of his tongue but found he liked what he was hearing better. 

“My dad will kill me.” He countered half-heartedly, leaning his forehead against yours, already convinced to follow through with your idea.

“No, he won’t.” You said gently, running your thumbs across his hands soothingly. “He will attempt to though, that’s for sure.” You added, earning another laugh. 

“You are a bad influence.” He joked, placing a kiss on your forehead.  

“I am the best influence.”

“And the chores?” 

“They will be here when you get back.” He didn’t look particularly pleased at the idea of a pissed off Stoick combined with unfinished chores that will no doubt double upon his return. 

He let out a small hum as he considered this new variable. 

“Tell you what. Tell me what your dad has asked you to do, and I will take care of the things that are not necessarily Hiccup exclusive. Maybe even bribe the others into helping…” You thought out loud.

“Hiccup exclusive?” He echoed with a giggle.

“Well you know, things that only you have the skills for, like forging, there’s no way I’m doing that. But I can outline the leather.” You explained.

Hiccup shook his head with a smile. “And how will you bribe the others?” 

“I will figure that out when I get there.”

Hiccup placed his hands on your cheeks and angled your head to better look at your eyes. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, giving you a quick kiss.

“Thank me by flying out of here.” You said back, placing your hands on his wrists. 

“I will, promise.” He replied, giving you another kiss and practically running to the Great Hall. 

“And don’t forget to eat!” You shouted after him.

“I won’t!” Hiccup shouted back. Though you weren't sure if it meant that he won’t forget or that he won’t eat.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head as you took in the sight of him running for the Great Hall.

You are gonna get in so much trouble. 

And it’s gonna be so worth it. 

[crazy-nerdy]

Dangerous Game

I don't know... I wrote something and felt like sharing it...

Inspired by the song "Dangerous Game" from the musical Jekyll and Hyde.

I did my best to make the reader as gender neutral as possible.

Summary: Being tasked with helping Hiccup with his injuries was the worst and best thing that could have happened.

Warnings: Semi-nsfw, pretty horny on Reader's part, kissing I guess

1.9k words

Hiccup x gn!Reader

How did they even get to this point? Or more precisely, how did You get to this point? It was a routine check up, after that asshole Krogan ‘what’s his fuck’ got his hands on Hiccup for the bounty and chained his neck like a maniac, it became very obvious that the chains left back bruises.

Which, rightfully, freaked everyone out, and so here you were. On Fishlegs’s request, holding a bunch of hyssop from his garden with a bucket of cold water resting by your legs and staring at his naked back as it flexed and moved every time he moved to strike the metal.

You had told him it would be safer to have a shirt on, not just the apron. But he complained that it was too hot and restrictive and that he was perfectly safe with just the apron. 

You couldn’t argue the point about the heat. It was boiling in here even with the huge door open. Even Toothless had moved outside to enjoy the occasional breeze.

“You are not going?”

“I have been begged by Fishlegs to make sure you put the hyssop on.” 

“Ah.” 

You hummed in response and went back to looking at him. 

So here you were, looking at Hiccup’s back, your eyes following the little drops of sweat moving down his back and meeting his pants that started under his waist just below the curve of his hips.

Your favourite ones were those travelling down his spine and moving down the ribs and towards the stomach. You couldn’t see them once they travelled towards the front of his body, but you had a pretty clear image of where they ended up. 

By the gods, you feel dirty.

“I thought you would have less productive ways of getting rid of your anger.” You said turning the plant in your fingers.

“What do you mean?”

“You know something with a lot less clothes and a lot more movement.” You said without much thought. 

“What?” He slightly turned his head to look in your direction. 

Fuck. 

You cleared your throat and pinned your eyes on the plant you held like it was the only thing in the world. “You know…Sex.” You clarified. 

“Yeah, I know that’s what you meant.” He breathed, letting out a soft chuckle. The kind that wasn’t sure if something should be treated as a joke or not.  

“Oh…” was all you were able to let out. You did not mean to sound so shocked. This was a calm conversation. A calm, chill, friendly conversation. 

But it still was… weird isn’t the right word… unusual? Hiccup was attractive. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could agree to that. Another thing everyone could agree on was that he had admirers. A good number of them, in fact. 

And in this moment, you were one of them. 

Though you would never say that. It was one thing to have people that have thought about fucking you at least once leaving in different islands where you didn’t have to think about them until fate or duty brought you face to face and a whole different thing to have a person like that in the island you lived, in your hut, looking at your naked back and having very vivid images of all the scratches they could be leaving on it. 

His footsteps stopped right in front of you. You lifted your eyes to look at him as you took a deep breath in preparation, and the moment you turned upward to meet his eyes, you stopped breathing so suddenly that you almost choked on air. 

Your body stiffened, and your eyes moved as far away from him as possible.

There he was, no apron and no shirt, more drops of sweat traveling from his neck down the rest of his body. You almost felt proud of how accurately your imagination pictured the drops moving to his abdomen, towards his navel and down the hem of his pants.

The head I’d give this man—

You did not just think that. You scolded herself internally. You did. not. just. think that. 

Nope. This is where you dipped. You were leaving. You could go to Fishlegs's hut and tell him to check on Hiccup’s recovery by himself. You were sure your dragon wouldn’t mind. You put down the hyssop and clenched your hands, and moved on to cross them, taking a deep inhale and flattening your lips in a thin line. 

“Well I should get going.” You said your eyes glued to the floor, taking steady, rigid steps that moved your weight from one leg to another almost looking like you were swaying. 

“You are not going to help me put it on?” He asked surprised. 

“You got away from bounty hunters and other people trying to kidnap you today. I am sure you can manage this.” You said, your eyes moving back to the floor. “Make sure the water is cold.” You added. 

“Not even if I asked?” The question came far too casually. Which meant he was either that dense or that aware. 

You reluctantly made a slow turn of your entire body, your shoulders hunched and biting your bottom lip. You moved your head to look at him, more prepared for what to expect. 

He was looking at you with a kind of quiet intensity of someone who was looking straight into your soul. 

Fuck he knows. He doesn’t.

Why couldn’t he be socially unaware this time as well? He was so good at it during other instances. 

“Do you have a clean cloth?” You asked, doing your best to keep your voice even, taking slow, sturdy steps back towards him. You didn’t look away, but you weren't looking at him—not exactly. You kept your eyes locked on his, letting yourself get lost in the endless forest growing behind those green irises. 

“I do.” He said looking at you. The height difference was very obvious right now. “In the chest under the stairs.” He adds.

You were moving before he stopped speaking. Your steps still held that careful, rigidness in them, but you were moving faster. Maybe you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. 

Hiccup took in your appearance from the back. You were wearing linen clothing, having gotten rid of most of the leather, the airy type meant for hot weather. And no shows.

“Barefoot?” He said, rather than ask, knowingly. 

“It’s too hot outside.” You said, opening the chest and taking a clean cloth. 

“Bad habit,” he reprimanded half-heartedly, leaning against the table behind him. He could think of five different ways you would hurt your feet on the top of his head, just in his hut.

“I will not take advice from someone who works at a forge half-naked.” You shot back, almost sounding normal, almost. But your body flinched at your own words, like you had just remembered something about your current predicament.

Hiccup would pay money on a bet that claimed it had something to do with him. 

“I am far less clumsy.” He said his eyes moved from your hair down to your neck. Uncovered and far too empty, he could already picture bites and purple and red marks in the shape of his mouth decorating it. 

His stomach clenched at the thought, and he looked away. 

“I am not clumsy.” You said, walking back to him, you were holding the cloth far harder than was necessary. 

He waited until you were standing in front of him, and he was smiling. He had no reason not to. “You have the tendency to hit the corners.” He said, tapping your hip bone where another bruise from the last table corner you collided against was forming. 

Your stomach tightened, and you breathed in like the world was running out of air. “It’s not that bad,” You managed to mumble, looking away from him again and dropping the cloth in the water, soaking it and wringing it out, before placing the hyssop on it and turning back to Hiccup. 

You eyed his neck, taking in the sight of his bruises, your stomach clenched for a different reason as you watched the damaged skin. 

“What is it?” Hiccup asked, noticing the tension on your body. More worried and displeased. “You don’t like them?” He added, knowing that you didn’t. 

“No,” You said softly, shaking your head. “Do they hurt?” You asked, looking in his eyes again.

“You can kiss it better if you want.” He said in a husky voice, placing a hand around your nape, keeping your head in place. 

Your heart swelled, and the air in your lungs felt heavy like it had turned into water. “I might,” You whispered, bringing a hand on his chest just above his heart, fingertips barely touching his skin. The words ravelled up your throat like a flood going out of your mouth before you could register them. 

Hiccup took in your expression and felt every anxious beat of your heart under his fingers. You had a kind of determination that only someone who didn’t know what they were saying could have. 

Neither realised the other leaning in until your lips were on one another. Your mind was too busy catching on to the fact that you were kissing the person whom, up until that point, you called your dearest friend and the sun of your sky. 

The kiss was deeper than Hiccup expected, charged with way too many feelings. His body was begging for air, but was rejecting the idea of separating from your lips. Like his soul was tangled and merged with yours, and splitting their lips meant tearing their soul apart. 

The first kiss had left them both breathless. You were holding Hiccup like you might collapse, and Hiccup put his free arm around you like you were an anchor.

Then came another and another and another.

Each more consuming the last, your bodies drowning in the inadequacy of your closeness and every fibre of your beings crying ‘not enough’.  

Your soul was clawing on your chest, calling out, screaming, ‘take me with you, make me a part of you. Let me forget my name if I ever had one.’

Your hold on his body tightened and moved, going to his shoulders, digging your nails in his skin, the image of your scratches on his back flashing in your mind for a second, holding him closer until there was no space between you. 

His hands moved down from your nape and back down to your waist as he turned you slowly until you were the one pressed against the table and lifted you up. 

There was something holy, you supposed, about letting a “friend” you were just lusting over pick you up off the floor, sit you on the table and kiss you until you are lying on it. 

There was a loud gasp as you parted. “I changed my mind,” he breathed between pants as he finally let go of your mouth, relishing the feeling of your chest expanding towards him with each quick breath. He rubbed his nose against yours before he went back to devouring you. 

Your free hand tangled in his hair, your back arching without thinking, letting out a small hum in his mouth as you felt his hand grab the back of your leg, keeping it in place next to his waist. 

“Not having your boots on was a great idea.” He mumbled, with a kind of cheeky smugness in his voice, moving on to bite your neck. 

Fuck. You thought letting out a gasp. 

You had the suspicion that this would end with a lot less clothes and a lot more movement.