Swords, Sass, and Snotlout
26 parts Complete Since the dragons left, Snotlout's been quieter. The swagger's still there, but it doesn't reach his eyes-and without Hookfang, the fire's gone. He still cracks jokes, still plays the clown, but the silences in between say more than he ever will out loud. Everyone thinks he's fine. He isn't.
Eret didn't mean to stick around Berk. But something about Snotlout's too-bright grin and the grief just beneath it makes it hard to leave. What begins as harmless teasing turns into long conversations by the fire, shared scars, lingering glances.
Sorry this is my first ever fanfic so I'm sorry if it's bad.