"Ghosts in love" Au, please? I realize it doesn't offer many opportunities for smut, but hell, it sounds cute af. Astrid would be this scary ghost who haunts houses and chases people swinging her bloodied axe. Hiccup would open doors for people. xD
So freaking adorable.
“I just don’t feel comfortable in here,” the middle-aged woman in the corner chair whispered to the other coworker that had stopped by with a fruit basket and a cheesy Get Well Soon card. Hiccup slid a finger into the card and focused on prying it open just a centimeter further so he could read the punchline to the talking cat’s joke. “It’s crazy, but it feels like someone’s watching. Like there’s cameras everywhere.”
Start kitten better soon!
He snorted, leaning back on the couch and rolling his eyes. Awful. Grinning across the room, he tilted his head at the girl in the corner, inviting her to come read the terrible joke. But as always, she glared and bared her teeth, the shadows in her corner creeping over her shoulder and around her bare feet. Shrugging, he glanced back at the newest patient of room 326.
“Hospital rooms always give me the heebie-jeebies,” her friend was saying. “Thinking about all the people who’ve died… Eugh…” She shivered dramatically.
She wasn’t much better off in any other room, he thought with a silent sigh. Good luck finding a single inch of this hospital that wasn’t crawling with spirits. He was still new to this whole afterlife thing, but even he knew that.
The two women didn’t stay much longer. Nobody ever did. They could feel the girl’s glower, somehow sense the negative energy dampening the space. They left their sleeping coworker to her medically-induced nap.
Hiccup lifted a hand to his brow and fingered the head-wound that was still damp with blood. Some came off, and he wiped it on his jeans. Of all the days for him to forget his helmet at home, it had to be that day. Looking up at the girl in the corner, he gave her a friendly smile and patted the space next to him on the couch.
She snarled, and for a second, her cheeks looked dark and gaunt. Then her image cut out, like poor reception on an old television. She reappeared next to him on the couch, and for the first time, he noticed her eyes. A pretty shade of blue. They matched the ice-cold temperature drop that suddenly chilled his arm. In the bed, the patient shifted and pulled her blanket higher. Frost crackled along the window behind them, freezing the corner closest to her with an opaque sheet of white swirls.
Hiccup watched her for a second, staring at the swirl of hate and despair in those blue irises. She seethed, and her shadows gently stroked her bruised and broken neck.
He had a thought. Shifting, he breathed onto his fingertip, and then pressed it to the window.
It wasn’t until after he was done drawing that she finally tore her eyes away from him to look at the window. At the sight of the two stick figures holding hands in the frost, her fierce expression dropped just barely. One of her shadows skittered out from the hem of her hospital gown and slithered away into the air conditioning vent.
The girl lifted a pale hand, extending one finger towards the window. Then slowly, sloppily, she drew a large misshapen heart around the two.