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﹙ ♱ ﹚ ... a selective, independent and mutually exclusive multi muse blog featuring a range of characters across various types of media. all muses rely on personal interpretation and headcanons, with canon material acting only as inspiration. this blog focuses heavily on plotted threads and interactions. ⸻written by frankie, twenty6, she/her. previously @dragnese.

spotlight muses as of july: all descendants muses.

#PINNED.#DNI.

mcflymemes

PROMPTS FROM DEAD POETS SOCIETY * assorted dialogue from the 1989 film, adjust as necessary

show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and i'll show you a happy man.

there's a time for daring and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for.

i went to the woods because i wanted to live deliberately. i wanted to live deep and such out all the marrow of life.

we don't read and write poetry because it's cute.

the human race is filled with passion.

what will your verse be?

no matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

you must strive to find your own voice.

the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all.

o captain! my captain!

sit down! do you hear me? sit down! this is your final warning!

sit down! i want you seated!

close your eyes. describe what you see.

forget them!

don't you forget this.

for the first time in my whole life, i know what i wanna do.

they're not that different from you, are they?

the world is their oyster.

they believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you.

if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you.

carpe diem. seize the day. make your life extraordinary.

what's going on?

is today your birthday? happy birthday!

what'd you get?

my parents gave me this.

they gave me the same thing as last year.

maybe they thought you needed another one.

you can feel it.

why do i stand up here? anybody?

we must constantly look at things in a different way.

sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone.

now we all have a great need for acceptance, but you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular.

what are the four pillars?

we're not laughing at you. we're laughing near you.

i was good. i was really good.

i just talked to my father.

i can't talk to him this way.

you have to show him who you are, what your heart is!

he'll tell me that acting's a whim and i should forget it.

they're counting on me.

isn't there an easier way?

i'm trapped.

i always thought the idea of education was to learn to think for yourself.

if i don't ask him, at least i won't be disobeying him.

i'll try anything once.

we're just trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us.

stop it! don't be so dramatic!

i've got to tell you what i feel!

we've been so worried about you!

time to inherit the earth.

it's a tragedy. a girl this beautiful in love with such a jerk.

all the good ones go for jerks. you know that.

i've only met her once, and already she's thinking about me.

tell me why they swoon!

you can't be in here. if they catch you, we're both gonna be in big trouble.

come with me.

they made everybody sign it.

i do believe you.

#INBOX.#me: writes one reply.#also me: i think that gives me permission to post some memes.

witchyxwoo

@d4rkmoor sent -- > do you remember anything? at all? from max hatter to chloe charming

"you're going to have to be more specific, max," chloe's expression remained neutral. she had her assumptions for what he referred to. in her mind there were only two kinds of possibilities. he'd want to know what she remembered of the old timeline from before red and herself changed the past. the other possibility being what had happened when she became the evil version of herself. perhaps he wanted to know about something else, but she isn't certain on that. chloe would be prepared for whatever he specifically wanted to know about her memories. really she remembered it all. whether that would be a good thing or not she'd likely find out soon enough.

"i remember being evil and red being able to bring me back from that. i also remember what i know from the old timeline. i can go into more detail for either if that's what you meant," she nodded. the idea of being so heartless and ruthless scared her. she also knew it could be selfish that she'd been glad to see the pocket watch be gone. but she wouldn't want to be in a world without her mother in it. that is something max probably doesn't know about. however, if necessary she'd tell him about it. she isn't sure if red has told him anything about the old timeline, especially in large detail. "there is a lot to unwrap here."

d4rkmoor

𝚆hen Max Hatter set his sights on none other than Chloe Charmings' dorm room, he wasn't exactly sure what he intended to gain from the visit. The peculiar tranquillity that reigned over Auradon, after the war of altered histories, wasn't a familiar silence in any sense of the word. Instead, it's the kind of stillness which follows when the world has exhausted itself from remembering two incompatible truths at once; when the echoes of impossible yesterdays lingered in closed tapestries that slowly began unravelling. The kingdom glittered with the illusion of permanence, every tower standing precisely where it ought to, every royal banner catching the evening breeze with effortless certainty, like the essence of time itself never fractured into splintered possibilities. All Max knows is he hates how convincing it seems - it's hard to know what to believe nowadays.

He snorts, rolling his eyes, tone taking on a sharp, sarcastic edge. "A lot to unwrap? Well, if that's not the understatement of the century." But the softness in his features, the sheer yearning to understand, to cling to what little evidence has been provided, opens the window into his true nature. He's scared to ask, to grasp the full extent of what he's lost. (Just talk to her, like you should have in the first place, rather than persuading her to put on that damn bracelet. Part of him came here to apologise. ⸻He can get to that later.)

Maybe there once existed a version of Maddox whose smile came easily, for he'd never been consumed by an otherworldly obsession; who raised his son in a land untouched by the Isle and the countless tragedies emerging from its core. Such a marvellous possibility lived and died within the same breath, and not because fate naturally unfolded, but because someone changed it under the mere assumption that another future mattered more. How is he supposed to forgive that? No matter how desperately Max tries to will himself otherwise, he can't deny the uncomfortable truth coiling inside his very structure. When everything had been taken from him - when the knowledge of a better reality settled upon his chest like shattered glass - he hadn't reached for acceptance, forgiveness, or even grief. HE REACHED FOR REVENGE.

The realisation disgusted him as it took its course: HOW FRIGHTENINGLY EASY IT HAD BEEN. He'd judged his father all his life, through glimpses of a brilliant man whose heartbreak curdled into fixation, whose desire to reclaim what was stolen eclipsed every gentler inclination until vengeance became indistinguishable from purpose. Max always imagined a clear divide separating them, an invisible boundary he'd never cross. (THIS TIME I'M FINALLY BREAKING FREE?) But when shown a past now forever mourned, he crossed that line without noticing it was still there. He thinks only Chloe might empathise with what he's feeling - even if he, himself, can't. Max heeds her request, narrowing down his questions, asking the one that's weighed the heaviest thus far: "when you and Red - when you used the pocket watch that first time..." He still doesn't know all the details, what they deemed so important to drastically change everything. He shoves both hands deep into his coat pockets until the fabric pulls taut across his wrists, instinct over intention, attention turning uncharacteristically to the floor. It's an old habit, one that surfaces whenever uncertainty hollows out his confidence. "Did you know what would happen?"

He can't share this with Red - NOT YET. There's something unbearable about looking into a familiar face and realising they remembered a different version of you; someone you'd never be. Every conversation carried the weight of another history, one that vanished before granted the chance to endure. He's only left wondering what that forgotten self sounded like when he laughed, what stories he told, whether he stood a little straighter or smiled a little easier.

It's almost like he's spent so long mourning the destruction of the pocket watch that he forgot memories could survive somewhere other than enchanted metal. Perhaps he understood his father now more than ever. He returns his gaze to Chloe's, though doesn't mask his apprehension as much as he'd like. "Did you know it would change my dad? Change me?"

#witchyxwoo.#IC. MAX HATTER.#thank you so much for this!!!#i just think their dynamic could be SO JUICY!#i needed more scenes with them after them literally going bad together!!!!#i set this just a few days after the end of the film but happy to discuss another timeline!!#i just loveee me some good aftermath of traumatic events. <3 #ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG. IM JUST BRAINROTTING ON THIS FILM!!!#but please please dont feel the need to match i promise my next reply will be smaller!!

deweyduck

Brendon Tremblay as Max Hatter in DESCENDANTS: WICKED WONDERLAND (2026)

#IMG. MAX HATTER.#yeah i’m Brainrotting on him…..#so many thoughts ideas opinions!#heartless has literally been on repeat for a week now!

one day i’ll make proper edits with all my pictures from berk but…. can yall believe i WAS HERE!!!! look at it!!!

#out.#delete /#hoping to return in jan but.#the fact that i even got to go even once was such a dream come true. (especially given i live in australia!)#just such a wonderful place UGHHHH my second home fr!#anyway gonna work on some replies over the next few days!!#icb i have had this blog for like two months and haven’t yet gushed about my week in berk!!!#(a second home that only takes like 30 hours to travel to rip.)

hiccups

I bet he’s really frightened now.

requested by @gamedot

#IMG. HICCUP HADDOCK.#IMG. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#DYN. I'M THE PERSON I AM TODAY BECAUSE OF YOU.#god literally one of my fav hiccstrid scenes ever.#the one from the third film.#‘and i have watched you doubt whether you’re worthy ever since’ SCREAMING #that’s my girl.#yeah i have issues with httyd3 but them and THIS SCENE will never be one of them.#love me a good parallel always.

clericwoken

his resolution diminishes with every second that passes. will watches astrid go about her routine with practiced ease and realizes he's lacking fundamentally. he's never done this before, wouldn't know the first thing about dragon flying, and the lack of experience starts to feel like an emptiness in his stomach. he squints at the afternoon sky, tries to imagine himself up there, and he can feel his muscles start to paralyze with fear. what was he thinking? he's nothing like them: hiccup and astrid are valiant and noble; they belong in the sky next to their magnificent dragons. will was barely able to survive the woods on his own for a handful of days, and would have probably never made it back if it wasn't for fireball keeping him warm and safe.

his gaze travels from stormfly's saddle to astrid's earnest expression, a new wave of guilt washing over him after hearing her words. ❛ i do. ❜ he promises quickly. ❛ i do trust you. ❜ probably more than he trusted most people. there was something about her that was different, a tenderness that existed beneath her fierceness that will was able to recognize from their first interaction. ❛ but maybe i'm just not ... not meant for all of this. not like you or hiccup. ❜ he voices his fear, nervously fidgeting with his own fingers. he doesn't dare to look up, unable to face what he imagines is disappointment on her face.

stormfly's nudge takes him by surprise but forces a giggle out of him, his hand reaching out to steady himself before resting on top of her head. she's comfortable, maybe not as comfortable as fireball but familiar enough to make him willing to accept the offer. astrid isn't trying to force him, she's simply offering the opportunity to show him something else. will could easily deny himself the experience and go back to spending his afternoons lazily sketching nature alongside fireball, the timberjack always more than happy to nap while will does his thing.

❛ okay. ❜ it's hesitant at first, nothing more than a quiet mumble. he realizes saying it out loud doesn't make his entire body fill with dread, but rather, there's a certain excitement to trying something new. he looks up at astrid, gifting her a timid smile. ❛ yes. i think ... i think i'm ready. ❜ will sends a determined nod in her direction, before wrapping his fingers around hers and sealing their deal. ❛ were you scared the first time you did it? ❜ will can't picture astrid ever being scared of anything, not with the confidence she usually carries herself with. still, knowing that he wasn't the only one this apprehensive might help be the confidence boost he needs to face this new adventure head-on.

d4rkmoor

before astrid hofferson ever opened her eyes beneath the skies of berk, the old gods had already imagined her. they shaped her from glacier walls, layering strength upon strength until her heart sat inside a cage sturdy enough to survive grief, battle, and love alike... but even gifts bestowed by ancient figures could falter, and unwanted vulnerability could shine. "you think we were made for this? will, nothing about what we do came easy, or is easy. for the love of freya - it's actually really hard most of the time." she admits, ( which to astrid, shield maiden, rider, survivor, is indeed a difficult feat ). she remembers being his age, assuming courage meant the absence of fear; a sentiment which couldn't be further from the truth. "you know you don't have to prove anything to us, right? we won't be disappointed if you decide dragon riding isn't for you."

as their deal is forged, she turns toward stormfly, reaching for the saddle with practiced ease - but her hand stops short of the leather, body stilling, like the atmosphere freezes around her. a breath escapes, slowly measured, and she laughs. it isn't loud or mocking; it's quieter than that, threaded with surprise, like she hadn't anticipated his question to reach so far back. she brushes hair from her face, tucks it behind her ear, and shifts her weight between both feet. itching hands prop on her hips as she looks over the endless expanse of sea, then back to the curious boy before her. it's not a tale she tends to sing from the rooftops, but perhaps a tune or two would help him. the confession arrives smoothly, "oh, i was terrified." when she flies now, the earth is tranquility made real. but back then...

"first time i flew wasn't even on stormfly… toothless had the honour." the name settles and is carried off almost reverently by the breeze. "i didn't trust him," she continues. "or hiccup. everything felt wrong, and unnatural." it's a memory she ponders upon more than she'd openly admit, when a very certain future abruptly changed paths. on the ground, she held herself like a drawn blade, sharp-backed and controlled, every gesture deliberate, every word carefully chosen before release. berk needed more warriors, so a warrior she became. then, at fifteen, she learnt that the sky demanded no performance, only asked for truth. flying stripped the heaviness living within her - the pressure of expectation, of constantly pushing harder and faster than everyone else.

"before that day, i knew exactly where my place was. in my life, the tribe, in the academy - i understood those things. but flying dragons?" she shakes her head. "it was different, i had no control, and it was pretty scary." in the air there is no judgement, no village politics, no concern of appearing weak... only velocity as freedom rushes through the veins so fiercely it bordered on pain. "i remember thinking i'd made a mistake, a huge one, and there was no turning back." not that there was any choice in the matter! "the ground just disappeared, and i didn't feel brave. i swore every movement would be the one that sent me falling." she recalled it the way sailors memorise storms that nearly drowned them: with awe sharpened by terror, every detail polished bright by endurance.

a faint, self-aware smile flickers across her lips, "but it got better." she fails to mention the reason toothless had been so rough with her. "the trust came eventually. not just in them, but in myself. in the knowledge that they wouldn't let me fall. and it became beautiful." before hiccup, she viewed the world as a battlefield divided cleanly between resolve and weakness, where glory was reached only by the hard-hearted. that impossible boy ruined her sole perception of reality, simply by believing things could be kinder. even today, dragons bear the power to unsettle her - not in fear, rather that they awaken something enormous, a primal awareness that humanity was not the centre of all. they belong to a deeper existence, one older than language. how she loved it.

she rolls her shoulders and straightens her back, shedding the weight of exposure. "yeah... safe to say i was scared. probably a hel of a lot more than you are right now." she steps closer, just for a moment, and lowers her voice so the wind can't steal it. "but you tell anyone i said that... and dragon riding will be the least of your concerns." before he has the chance to reply, she punches him lightly in the shoulder, playful, but firm enough to make her point. after its been made, she spins on her heels, signalling silently to stormfly; the nadder lowers herself down so her rider can easily climb atop. once comfortable, astrid throws her hand to @3demos, intending to pull him up next. "you're riding front, kid. so, you'll wanna hold this." with her free hand, she taps the handles attached to the saddle, "and i'll keep you steady from the back. one step at a time, just like i promised."

#3demos.#IC. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#oh you just KNOW he's astrid's favourite guy :')

berkedits

“Toothless, stop! What are you doing?”

#IMG. HICCUP HADDOCK.#IMG. TOOTHLESS.#DYN. TOGETHER WE MAP THE WORLD.#and if i said this scene alone is the biggest issue with httyd3?#would yall agree with me?#no but fr this scene makes me tear up EVERY TIME i fuckin love this short film.

shanehollanderilyarozanov

JACK WOLFE EPIC I recorded live at Prophecy Hall

#IMG. HICCUP HADDOCK.#this blog really is becoming hiccup + secondary characters lmao.#i wish i could be surprised! but i knew this was gonna happen.#also yeah this was originally not gonna be blog that uses icons but.#i love my live action fcs so much i’m literally using icons to look at their faces lmao.

the thing that always stands out to me about astrid in the first film, is that she is not a bully, and she is very much a loner in her own right. i really feel that this is what helps shape her character in a realistic way from the astrid we see at the start of the film, to who she becomes in the end.

she never went of her way to make fun of hiccup or make him feel small. she had no problem with who he was, and she actually felt bad for him. she saw that he was trying, which she respected, all the while knowing he didn't have what it took to be a dragon killer. to be one of them. she was impartial, indifferent, and let him live his life without interference from her. she only started getting down on him for two reasons: 1) when he started showing up to dragon training and wasn't taking it seriously. and, 2) when he did start taking it seriously but was "better than she ever was." she had every right to be mad, to become obsessive regarding his sudden improvements. because she knows him. she knows he is gentle, and kind, and not capable of this. all of a sudden he was stepping in on her territory. all her life she trained to be the best. all of berk expected it since she was a little girl. (if you consider the canon of defenders of berk, it also explains her attitude even more because it was up to her, and her alone, to reclaim respect for the hofferson name, to return her family to their former glory after her uncle's experience with the flightmare tarnished their reputation.) then, out of nowhere, this kid, who was never expected to be anything, is not only becoming something, but is threatening her glory. the glory for herself and her family. her indifference towards hiccup is also what makes their quick romance more realistic. she never hated him. so when he opens her eyes to the truth, it's very plausible for her to grow so suddenly fond of him. if she despised him throws a side eye to the live action astrid there's no way she'd keep his secret. an astrid who hated hiccup wouldn't let herself be vulnerable around him; she wouldn't trust him to hold the entire future of their tribe in his hands; she wouldn't take his word over generations of dragon knowledge.

this all then comes full circle, especially when you consider that astrid is a loner in her own way, much like hiccup himself. she trained her whole childhood to become the best, which left her very little time for anything else, let alone important social interaction. she enjoys the peace of her own company, being in her own head, set to achieve her own daily goals. she is only seen to be part of the group during the raids, working as a team because it's their job. after the raid at the beginning of the film, she is still hanging around them, but is visibly placed further in the back, away from them, sharpening her axe. (because it's still about the mission to her. to be 'fearless astrid hofferson'; and fearless leaders don't bully those who are trying their best.) she is not part of their group. she interacts with them when it's necessary, but would not hang around them outside the training. you even see her casting a sad look in hiccup's direction, unlike the others who are teasing and getting in his face. he's trying, and that's enough for her. being set apart in her own way from the hooligan tribe is what makes her connection, after learning the truth, with hiccup all the more realistic.

#META. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#the live action astrid is truly my number 1 enemy.#'i've got my eye on that big house of yours' SHE WOULD NEVER.#with the way she treats him in the live action i just don't think it's realistic that she'd suddenly develop feelings for him.#wait til i start ranting about my own hiccstrid canon of them being best friends when they were kids. like LITTLE kids.#but societies expectations dragging them away from each other.#one day i'll write allllll about that.

the return to berk is a surrender, not a victory. they land on familiar soil hard, dragons crashing in a flurry of wings and dust, riders dismounting in various states of injury and exhaustion. fishlegs stumbles. the twins bicker as they help each other stand. hiccup's in shambles, checking everyone and their dragons over, refusing to consider himself. while snotlout— snotlout slumps forward on hookfangs' neck, an arrow sticking out his shoulder. they're barely on the island before he's being lifted off the monstrous nightmare by oncoming berkians, blood matting his armour in a way that makes even astrid's stomach tighten. gothi's there instantly, silently sharp, ushering them to her hut with urgency. chaos ensures, topped off by stoick's booming voice demanding the meaning of their uncoordinated return home. astrid intends to explain: it was an onslaught. krogan and the flyers. we had to retreat. berk was closer than the edge. we had no choice. but the moment her boots hit the surface, her leg betrays her. it's subtle, a tremor, but enough; enough for hiccup to notice because that's what he does. this is how she finds herself being steered (against her wishes, though not without purpose) to the great hall, where warmth and necessity mingle in equal measure.

the ambush fell over them, a storm waiting to strike. hunters surged from behind cliffs, out of coves; ships cut through the water with brutal accuracy. nets launched skyward, followed by bolts and arrows— thick, barbed, glinting with a sickly sheen every rider learned to fear: dragon root. no more than three minutes endured before hiccup ordered a retreat; stormfly banked hard in their rush, which was when astrid saw it: one of krogan's men, aiming... not at her, at stormfly. the time to think became non-existent, and astrid acted on instinct— she moved her body into the path of the shot. it was like being struck with fire and ice simultaneously. the skewer drove inside her thigh with precision, poison burning as it mercilessly touched muscle and nerve. the nadder shrieked, nearly losing altitude in an attempt to twist her neck and check her rider, but astrid instructed her forward. i'm okay, girl, i'm okay. keep going! her hand went to the shaft, absent of common sense, and she ripped it out, throwing it away. she yanked it too quickly, and knew it by the shiver that ran up her spine. still, she held herself upright as they caught up to the others, expression carved from stubborn stone; she would not falter.

hiccup trusted joyce, had been fixed up by her more than once; as gothi busied herself with jorgenson, hofferson is taken to the next best thing. he's the sole reason she cooperates, and is now resting on one of the long wooden benches, posture rigid with compelled composure. another bench has been dragged in front and her leg rests across it— straight, unyielding, like sheer stubbornness might stitch her wound together. crimson continues soaking through her skin, refusing to be ignored no matter how she demands it. astrid braces her hands, fingers curling against the rough wood, sitting like a blade left too long in water; still deadly, but dulled at the edges by circumstances she did not like admitting existed. every instinct in her body pulls outward; toward stormfly, likely circling close, believing proximity alone could guarantee safety. toward her team scattered throughout the village, alive but not whole. toward hiccup, who is talking in low, tight sentences with his dad and gobber near the hearth, already thinking too far ahead, wondering what he should have done differently.

just a few more stitches and you'll be good as new. @atmelvalds

joyce's tone is annoyingly comforting. clearly she noticed astrid's desperation to leave, to fix this herself with thread, needle, and a mirror. her constant, frustrated glances around the room; her inability to sit still. astrid grabs the jug of ale on the table (hiccup anticipated she'd need it, probably even apologised to joyce before offering up his betrothed as a problematic patient) and took a long, defiant swig. the bitterness grounds her enough to keep from snapping at every following touch. but only momentarily. "yeah, i know how stitches work." she bites, unreasonable. "i have done this before, you know. all by myself, and everything." pain pulses in vicious waves, each heartbeat a hammer blow driving deeper. the root has done its work; even after she'd wrenched the weapon free, gods, what a ridiculous, reflexive thing that had been, the venom lingered, coiling through without hesitation. "for the love of freya— i'm fine. look, it's basically stopped bleeding, now." it hasn't.

try, a voice in the back of her head urges, be nice. she's on the way to becoming your mother-in-law, for thors sake! shoulders sag, and she exhales slowly, bitterly through the nose. a confession is ripped from some part of her core that very few have witnessed, "i know it was stupid... and i made it worse. shouldn't have pulled it out. i..." she hesitates, words catching like thorns in her throat. "didn't want stormfly grounded." her eyes flicker to the open doors (habit more than anything) but she doesn't attempt to rise this time, to turn the urge to action. she forces the gratitude out, not that her sincerity is false, just that it's hard to express. to be vulnerable. she is trying, believe it or not. "i know i'm not great at saying it, but... i do appreciate this. you fixing me up. i… uh…" she laughs gently, awkwardly, brushing stray yellow strands from her eyes. "relying on others isn't exactly my strong suit." she admits, taking another drink. being sober for this kind of conversation is not inviting. "i'm working on it."

#atmelvalds.#IC. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#SORRY #AGAIN #LONG #WAHHHHH #i couldnt help it i need to set the scene y'know

the forge begins to smoulder in the thin hour before sunrise, its heat no longer raging but enduring— coals shift with soft, molten sighs, as warmth clings stubbornly to stone and skin alike. it's less like a place of making now, and more of an aftermath. outside, the sea mutters against the cliffs, but inside, there's only will, and the stubborn, aching persistence of a boy who refused to let tradition fail those he loved. and so, with that in mind, hiccup haddock worked all through the night. rather, he'd toiled, hunched and intent, a silhouette cut from flame, movements uneven yet unyielding. a hammer rose and fell, and each strike scattered constellations of sparks which rested briefly on his tunic, in his hair, his skin... tiny stars that died before they burned as bright as his determination. three fingers on his left hand are blistered raw, red and angry beneath the grime. he noticed when it happened, distantly, like one notes the weather changing.

in the corner, toothless lay coiled like a shadow unwilling to fully dissolve. his tail thumps once. twice. a low, gravelly sound rumbles from his chest, hovering somewhere between complaint and concern. eyes slitted with the long-suffering air of a creature denied several very crucial hours of rest. "i know," hiccup replies, not pausing. "i hear you, bud, loud and clear! sleep is important. bed is important. not turning your hands into something resembling overcooked fish is also, apparently, important. all valid points." clang. "but... important cultural moment—" clang. "emotional significance." clang. "—very fragile human feelings on the line!" toothless huffs, unimpressed. "and i don't recall the part where i said you couldn't go home." hiccup grins despite himself, breath catching slightly as he sets the hammer down at last. because in the glow, laid carefully upon the anvil between strikes, something beautiful has finally taken shape.

it's a delicate procedure— far more than most things created here. not something meant to conquer or defend, quite the opposite, in fact. this is intentional in a different way; each curve had meaning, each crevice the intention of someone who just wanted to do good. he picks up his creation and lets it rest in his palm; two dragons, wrought in gleaming metal stare up at him. a death song, elegant form captured mid-arc, body flowing like music made visible, and a razorwhip, sharply precise, spikes honed into graceful lethality. hymn and steel. their tails curl inward, threading with careful symmetry until, at their meeting point, they formed something fine but unmistakable: initials. that of a sister he never had, and a mother he always wanted. "toothless, come take a look. tell me what you think." though the dragon is barely on his feet before approaching footsteps announce a visitor.

the irony isn't lost on him as @dontretreat steps inside the forge. she doesn't speak, (perhaps attempting another sneaky glance at his project, as she did two nights prior) nor is she granted the opportunity, for hiccup spins on instinct, carrying the restless, electric awareness that he'd been found out. she'd been circling this mystery for days, sharp-eyed and sceptical, noticing every late night, every evasive excuse, every smudge of soot he'd failed to fully hide. how snotlout and astrid had temporarily taken over certain duties while hiccup snuck away under a cloud of intrigue. his reaction breaks free before he has a chance to compose himself: "perfect timing!" the words burst out gleefully, cutting cleanly through the quiet.

nancy blinks, train of thought clearly dissolving into startled silence. "i was just about to find you," he rushes, a little breathless now, energy spilling over itself. "because you've been so—" he gestures vaguely at her face, "—this about it. you know… suspicious. very obvious, by the way. anyone ever tell you it's fun waiting for surprises?" toothless chirps in agreement, and hiccup, without a lick of warning, sings, "ta-daaa!" and holds the medallion into her line of sight, (still warm to the touch) presenting her with a solid answer regarding her curiosity. however, his grin, for all its enthusiasm, falters a little, excitement dwindling just-so as he realises this is the moment, his secret revealed. he shifts his weight, suddenly conscious of the rawness in his left hand, the dirt streaking his skin; the possibility that he might have gotten this all wrong.

he dials it back a tad, "i've been making this," he continues and shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "for you. both of you. it's a betrothal gift, because, y'know tradition, and berk, and—" he had a whole speech planned... this is not how it went. "if you don't like it— that's okay!" he quickly adds, words tripping out in a stream. "can always make some tweaks, a little update here and there. change the size, the design, or just scrap it all together." his fingers tremble slightly where they hovered, unbandaged and forgotten. he remembered placing his own betrothal gift around astrid's neck, the weight of it, the way it said everything words could not. then he thinks of nancy, who has been ripped from her lineage like a branch deemed too strange to keep. who stood now with no inheritance to pass forward, no blessing wrapped in history.

"whatever you want, i'll do." he finishes, softer. he wanted to give her something. or at the very least, offer it. "i know i'm not— not family. that these things are supposed to come from where you come from." he glances at the gift, then back to her, a small, crooked smile tugging at one side of his mouth; half self-aware, half trying to soften the weight of what he just said. "but," he nudges her lightly with his shoulder, the gesture familiar and automatic, "being chief's gotta count for something, right?" the attempt at humor is gentle, teasing, but active with a subtle, hopeful edge. "like, officially endorsed sentimental value? that definitely feels like a thing i can declare. pretty sure i have the authority."

#dontretreat.#IC. HICCUP HADDOCK.#HELLOOOOO!!!!!#if there is one thing we have learnt.#it's that i will always write a lot when it comes to you rifp.

jackalsraised

Graham Humbert, Once Upon A Time (2011)

#IMG. HICCUP HADDOCK.#no i don't use icons on this blog and even if i did i'd use animated screencaps but.....#i present my hiccup horrendous haddock iii #<3 #pretty boy!

lavender: sender lays their head in receiver's lap and closes their eyes. @everdawn

the great hall fell into a hollow quiet, the kind which arrives after the unthinkable has happened. not the comfortable silence of a village at peace, nor the jovial hush following bursts of laughter— it surrounds, thin and brittle, in the wake of grief. torches burn low, flames wavering as though uncertain they had the right to exist. hiccup sits hunched at a long wooden table, shoulders bowed, mind racing, contemplating, as per usual. maps sprawl before him in careful chaos: berks entire landscape, jagged sketches of drifting ice, annotations scratched in margins where ideas were born, then discarded in the same breath. small markers dotted the drawings, each representing a feeding station planned for displaced dragons, unsettled after drago's assault shattered their home in fragments of cold. unsure fingers hover over one such marker, nudging it a fraction to the left, and back again, as if precision will somehow fix what's broken.

he exhales slowly, in the full knowledge of relentlessness. on himself most of all; but astrid, the others… they followed without question. that loyalty both steadied and weighed on him in equal measure. there wasn't time to stop, to breathe, to be. not since— his throat tightens, he pushes the notion away, unable to let it root. beside him, astrid sits in revered companionship, busy in her own plans and work, presence a constant warmth. she hasn't said anything for a while now, and he hasn't needed her to. that's the thing about her: she knows when to challenge him, and when to simply stay. through the dragged mornings and longer nights, she remained steady. unyielding. his defender, his—

a shift breaks his thoughts. before he can glance up, she's moving, fluid despite her fatigue. without ceremony, she leans sideways and places her head in his lap. for a heartbeat, he merely stares at her, caught somewhere between surprise and something far softer. a laugh escapes him, quiet yet genuine, the sound rather foreign after countless days of restraint. "whoa," he murmurs, affection threading inside his tone, "tired, are we?" carefully, like she's precious and breakable simultaneously, he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. his lips linger for a moment, an acknowledgment of everything she's been when he didn't know how to stand. when he retreats, his fingers absentmindedly begin to trace light, playful scratches along her hairline— fingertips brushing through golden strands, soothing in a way that surprised even him. "you know," he adds, a hint of teasing rising above the familiarity, "if you wanted my attention, you could've just said so."

as he watches her settle against him, the quip fades imperceptibly. he finds himself staring at the curve of her cheek, the slow rise and fall of her chest. playfulness, which came so easily, drains, replaced by tender insistence. "i'll finish up here, astrid," he whispers, resigned. they're both exhausted. the thought of her, so close, trustingly leaning on him… his heart aches, a pressure he can't mend. his anchor in a life of sea and storms that tried to pull him under. was he that for her, too? he's not sure, ever so warped by his own distress as of late. movements pause in her hair as his voice lowers, tinged with a roughened edge of sincerity, "hey." he taps her head lightly, "you should go home, get some rest."

#everdawn.#IC. HICCUP HADDOCK.#i got SO excited writing this it's been way too long since we have written together omg!!!!#also they are cuteee. i'm honoured to get to explore them with you. <3

f1stsarc

“ 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜? ” from astrid hofferson, @dragnese!

𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓, at first, likely appears strangely unfazed [ ... ] the triple stryke plucked at the nerves of most like the strings of a lyre. a dragon was a formidable foe, but it was also a fierce ally. in her way, vi could relate to that.

( people usually shrunk before her as well after a brutal victory. )

that casual glance is soon followed by a shrug, and a barely perceptible smirk into the scarred side of her mouth. ❛ ────i guess you could say that, yeah. why not? ❜ she muses, almost infuriatingly devil-may-care when she leans her weight against the nearest wall.

❛ it was just me and champ for a long, long time. ❜

d4rkmoor

when hiccup and toothless were swallowed by a silence no dragon-call could pierce, astrid wore said silence like armour, sharp and suffocating. she barked orders, mapped contingencies, led searches cutting through the sky and sea alike— and beneath it existed something raw and unspoken. fear. not the kind mentioned aloud, rather the kind that settled in deep, stayed coiled inside. without them, the archipelago tilted. the horizon looked wrong. but they're back— and not alone. a creature so rare, so mysterious followed them: a remarkable act which almost made the ordeal worth it. a dragon who chose to remain instead of vanishing back into whatever shadow realm birthed him. though remaining is not the same as joining, and the notion forces astrid to consider the intentions of their second follower. ( hiccup has a tendency to take in strays, and he certainly doesn't bare her cynical streak, which both frustrates and enamoured her. they've been betrayed before... )

a stranger from a place of iron bars and bloodsport, dragged from an arena where survival was spectacle and mercy was weakness. vi carried it in the set of her shoulders; the way fists clenched even at rest; how her eyes measured exits before allies. hofferson recognised the instinct, respected it. "champ, hey? he got a proper name yet?" festering doubts hardly means she can't hope for the best, welcome this girl into their group... if hiccup trusts her, astrid can try. ( fondness scarcely comes easily; it has to be earned, forged in shared danger and proven loyalty. it's nothing personal against vi herself. ) she casts a glance into the great beasts direction, a smile chipped into her lips; he keeps to the periphery of dragon's edge like a living myth. he's beautiful, there's no denying it: three barbed tails curling into question marks against the dawn, a silhouette moving too smoothly to be entirely real. scales gleaming, similar to molten metal in the dark.

"the twins are seriously debating over calling him sizzly scaleback or scaly sizzbleback and... i can't handle them naming another dragon on this island. so i'd really appreciate one from you sometime soon." tone is light, teasing, but holds a hint of seriousness. ( smidvarg and the gang may have grown on the others... astrid, not so much. ) "he seems to be warming up to stormfly pretty nice— but she has that effect on most." she shrugs casually, as if it's common knowledge. "how about you? any progress? i know he likes hiccup just fine, but it doesn't stop him trying to take a chunk out of his good leg when he gets a little too close."

#f1sts.#IC. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#i love them already i think they're awesome.#ALSO LOOK HOW FAST I REPLIED TO SOMETHING!

ohisms

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 . ( a collection of action prompts. feel free to reverse roles as desired. this prompt will be updated. )

[ REDWOOD ] sender lashes out at receiver when it isn't their fault.

[ WILLOW ] sender embraces receiver in a moment of extreme distress.

[ PINE ] sender fervently resists receiver's attempts to comfort / care for them.

[ BIRCH ] sender finally ends a tense argument by reaching out to apologize.

[ POPLAR ] sender mentors receiver through learning a new skill.

[ PALM ] sender and receiver avoid / ignore the stresses of real life together.

[ ELM ] sender lends receiver aid in a time of urgent need.

[ MAGNOLIA ] sender, believed to be dead, arrives at receiver's door.

[ DOGWOOD ] sender gifts receiver a token of good luck / protection.

[ MULBERRY ] sender and receiver take a long walk through nature together.

[ HAZELNUT ] sender begrudgingly patches up receiver's wounds.

[ CAMPHOR ] sender suddenly pushes receiver out of danger's path.

[ CASHEW ] when they're finally alone, sender invites receiver to dance.

[ LAVENDER ] sender lays their head in receiver's lap and closes their eyes.

[ BEECH ] it comes to light that sender has betrayed receiver.

[ HIBISCUS ] sender invites receiver to go traveling with them.

[ HICKORY ] sender pushes receiver to admit that they need them.

[ MAPLE ] sender shakes receiver's shoulders, begging them to wake up.

[ CHERRY BLOSSOM ] sender revels in receiver's beauty, stunned.

[ JOSHUA ] sender offers receiver a safe place to hide / crash .

[ ASH ] sender and receiver become reacquainted after many years.

[ FIG ] sender, knowing receiver is hungry, pressures them to eat.

[ YEW ] sender beckons for receiver to join them in the water.

[ CYPRESS ] sender shamelessly flirts with receiver.

[ LINDEN ] sender cares for receiver, who took a hit to protect them.

#INBOX.#action prompts action prompts!

the afternoon sun bled through jagged pines, each shaft of light glinted off the specked grass like a drive of stars fallen from the heavens. astrid was preparing for a rather important event, carrying an underlying certainty of one that faced storms both literal and emotional— yet her nature softens tremendously in this specific company. a distinct child who knew fear and solitude intimately as most knew the taste of meat and mead. he, who wandered too far at twelve and vanished, only to be found, miraculously, cradled by a timberjack, creature evidently becoming his shield and family... as they so often did. hiccup had brought him home, yes, but she took it upon herself to keep watch, a force in the corners of his life, appreciating the softness and resilience others overlooked, the pulse of courage that made him different.

the last leather strap clicks into place, a satisfying sound echoing in their surrounding stillness. stormfly shifts and stretches, wings expanding as she tests the movement and steadiness of her saddle, a routine reaction. sunlight bounces back and forth between her iridescent scales, driving prismatic sparks at the underbrush. astrid brushes a lock of hair from her eyes and turns, scanning the boy standing relatively close, boots rooted heavily inside the mossy ground... she carefully observes as every flicker of emotion crosses his expressive face. the hesitation, the worry, the longing to remain in the safety of the familiar. still, she pushes: "you ready?" bearing that hofferson grin of hers, she gives stormfly a rub beneath the chin, but keeps her focus planted on will.

are you sure about this? @clericwoken

"come on, now. i've already told you: i'd never put you in danger. and you trust me, right?" astrid sternly reassures, and rests a warm palm over his shoulder, squeezing for good measure. "i know you prefer the quiet, you and fireball against the big wide world— there's nothing wrong with that. i like it sometimes, too... me and her all alone." she allows the words to hang for a moment, letting him comprehend that she sees him, understands him, before continuing. "but it doesn't mean you shouldn't try new things. skies the limit, yeah? you don't..." voice drifts into nothingness as the nadder announces her opinion with a happy squeak. she trots in will's direction, approaching steadily before she nudges him in the chest, a playful, affectionate pressure which nearly sends him stumbling backwards. you'll be safe with me, stormfly silently urges, then bows her head at his side, resting there, comforting and close.

astrid is given permission to continue: "i'll be with you the whole time. we'll take it slow, just fly over berk and see how you feel. but if you really hate it, we'll come straight down." she promises sincerely, and extends a hand towards him, fingers wiggling playfully in an attempt to entice him inwards. to allow her to be his guide. "what do you say?"

#clericwoken.#IC. ASTRID HOFFERSON.#ASTRID TAKING WILL FOR HIS FIRST EVER FLIGHT!!!#you said will wouldn't be a dragon rider and that's fine we love that!!!#but it doesn't mean astrid won't get him to test out flying and see how he likes it!!!!#i actually luv them so much already because she'd really go out of her way to be interested in the things he's interested in.#and always make him feel like he's being heard.#because lbr astrid is a bit of a loner in her own right too.#but she knows when to let people guide her into new experiences and things that she'd never have done on her own.#(though she won't exactly say this to anyone rip.)#so her wanting will to step outside of his comfort zone because she has stepped out of her own many many times just!!!#speaks to me!!! i love them.

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