AND HE DOES IT ON HIS PEG LEG TOO.
Artist, writer, fangirl. Animation is one of my favorite story-telling mediums. I dedicate my free time to HTTYD and Gravity Falls.
nrd4lyfe said: Omygosh, I would love to see the explosion when Astrid offers to braid Eret's hair. Could you please make it a drabble, if you have the time?
(My laptop is with the laptop doctor and I have to do stuff on mobile wahhhhhhh)
Hiccup has only hit Astrid once in his life— a lucky shot landed against her neck during a sparring match that immediately filled him with such a dark, gut-shredding guilt that he wouldn’t practice with her for weeks. Even thinking about that one clumsy blow makes his insides feel cold and slick. He could never imagine being violent with her. He’s never been a fighter, never been one with a temper. That’s her— his complement, his other half.
But the sudden blaze in his chest at the sight of her fingers reaching for damp black hair makes his hand shoot out. And he finds it gripped tight around her wrist.
"Hiccup?" Astrid says, her tone colored with shock. Her eyes, blue as the sky and innocent as a child’s, have gone wide.
His are almost inclined to do the same—grabbing her was instinctive, a sharp bark from some animal-like place that he’s not familiar with. But there’s still a simmer of agitation that keeps his expression twisted with irritation. And the entire table has gone silent at the look on his face.
"Eret son of Eret can braid his own hair," he mutters low. Illogically, his gaze is pinned on the man in question.
Eret’s jaw drops a little at the steely way Berk’s chief says his full name. His eyes flick from the blonde to her fiancé and back. It does nothing to staunch Hiccup’s annoyance.
She returns the look, giving the baffled ex dragon trapper a clueless shrug. Then her eyes slide back to Hiccup. “Of course, babe.” Her tone is easy, even though he knows she’s perplexed by a reaction even he doesn’t understand.
He clenches his jaw. Peels his hand away from her wrist. A faint panic in the back of his brain is yelping, asking if his grip was too strong, if he’s hurt her or bruised her skin. But the ire still boils in his blood.
"Weeeird," Ruffnut comments from Eret’s side.
It’s the thought of her fingers tangled in his hair— curled and twisting in a way too similar to how she pulls during love making. He doesn’t want to see the pale flash of her hands creating raven-colored plaits. It’s the thought of the tiny, easy braids she leaves while sitting closer than propriety cares for. How close she’d have to be sitting for her to tie them in another man’s hair. Those thoughts fuel a strange possessiveness.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust her. Or Eret. But he shares so much now. He shares his mother with the dragons, his time with the villagers. He even shares Astrid with a dozen other distractions— still a few months away from ending the day with her all to himself. So it’s not distrust that drives his jealousy. It’s a need to have one thing she saves just for him. One thing.
Whether she understands that or not, Hiccup’s not sure. But she doesn’t begrudge him his moment of envy. The conversation stumbles back into something comfortable. And after a few minutes, while she’s in the middle of explaining the current expansion project for the dragon stables, Astrid absently reaches over and ties a little braid, just below Hiccup’s ear.
I love love love love love jealous Hiccup.