Hakoda the Grief Pirate it's time for Hakoda the Grief Pirateeee
Kya is killed, as in canon. Unlike canon, Bato is killed too. This means that rather than join the war, Hakoda goes mad with grief and gathers a few ships' worth of men - desperate, brutal men who want to repay the cruelty of the Fire Nation in kind. Not soldiers, not sailors, killers.
And he takes Katara.
The first place he goes is the Northern Water Tribe. He gets an audience. He goes to Chief Arnook and the elders and says: either I leave here today with a master for my daughter, or none of us leave this room alive.
Katara gets a master.
As in canon, Katara is a prodigy. With a year to focus on her waterbending and drilled by a man wearing her father's face who tells her "we're all going to die doing this" and "but we'll bleed them a thousand times over for every one of us" and most importantly he says "we're going to avenge your mother" - growing up under that man, Katara becomes terrifying.
Sokka is left alone. The last bit of love in his father's heart was spent on him, though he doesn't know it. It was spent on leaving him. It was spent on sparing him from seeing what his father would become.
Sokka goes out often, looking for traders and sailors and ships. He finds no news and too little fish. Until one day, an iceberg cracks open.
The boy is young and Sokka hasn't been a big brother for a while now, but it turns out that it's like riding a penguin - you never really forget. So when Aang gets kidnapped by some ponytailed jerk, of course he goes after him.
That he only manages to ruin Aang's escape and get them both captured is beside the point, okay? The Fire Jerk cheated.
(Appa follows them, if you're wondering. Aang doesn't seem to be in any real danger. Zuko isn't an especially merciless captor, no matter how he tries.)
Sokka finally gets some news. The Frost Wolf is believed to be a Northern raider (to protect his tribe from reprisals) and he is feared. He leaves only one survivor in each of his raids. He tasks them to deliver a simple message: the seas are no longer safe for the Fire Nation. He replenishes his crew with convicts and pirates. They say he has a crazy mechanist working for him. They say that an icy fog follows where he goes, blocking out the sun and chilling Firebenders to the core. They say he can't be killed.
-
"So, these guys of yours -" Sokka began and paused to let the answering "they're not my guys!" wash over him, "do they say anything about a girl?"
The Prince's ears reddened. "I don't listen to that kind of filth."
Which means you have listened, Sokka might have said if he felt like teasing. He didn't.
"Not like that! A girl, a little younger than me. Have you heard anything about that?"
Sokka held his breath. This was it. Of course, it didn't mean anything if Zuko hadn't heard...
"No." The Prince's voice was unusually quiet. Zuko's good eye glinted in the orange light of the torches.
Sokka couldn't help that his exhale caught in his throat on the way out, it wasn't - it was just a shock, he reasoned, it didn't mean anything that Zuko hadn't heard...
Zuko stood up and made to walk out. He stopped at the door.
"I'm sorry," the Prince said. "I have a sister, too."
The door closed and Sokka was left alone and with questions. Questions like:
How did he know?
-
The trip to the Fire Nation is long. Any experienced commander could have told Zuko to limit his interactions with the prisoners. To rotate out their guards and never have their meals brought by the same person if he could avoid it. Any experienced military commander would have seen the risk of two child prisoners, one of who is particularly genial and charming while the other is funny and sarcastic.
Iroh, one of the most experienced military commanders alive, encourages Zuko to learn all he can about his enemy. It's an advantage, you see.
(And if the watch lists are edited to put crewmembers with children into frequent and close contact with the prisoners - well, that's Iroh's prerogative. He is a General. And if there are a few minor navigational errors that lenghten their journey, well, that he knows nothing about. He's a General, not an Admiral.)
Meanwhile, Princess Azula is tasked with putting an end to the Frost Wolf's provocations. It would be terribly inconvenient if she were to have frequent encounters with another bending prodigy, about her age and wearing blue robes and a mask. They should make out about it.
Eventually, they'll all have to reckon with their monstrous fathers and murderous siblings.
a/n: post-war, it is up to ur own interpretation but is written with the intent on reader being aemma’s younger daughter, cregan is the bday boy and his wife takes care of him!!
Hisses of snow clawed at the tall window panes of Lord Cregan Stark’s solar. Charcoal-hued eyes lingered over the recent trade made between House Cerwyn and House Hornwood, who now have brought their dispute before their Warden.
Maester Kennet stood cross-armed to the side, the glint of his chains bouncing off with the firelight. “The sale was struck before the deep frost,” He explained, “But both report thinning stores now.”
“These men marched with me,” Cregan grunted, as he did so frequently, rubbing his temples, “They’ll achieve nothing divided. Let them speak their grievances before me— send word at first light.”
The maester bows and slowly rises, “Yes, my lord. Riders shall be sent early on in the morrow.” A soft sigh left Cregan’s mouth, and the maester left shortly after.
Kennet would attempt to turn the corner as he passed the halls but, he was interrupted in doing so--he was met with you, who appeared before him, wearing a knowing smile.
“My Lady,” Stiffly, he bowed to the Targaryen princess, now Lady of Winterfell, who stood, assertively, with her dark furs and silver curls.
"Maester Kennet,” You began, a sly smile forming—and one would almost mistake you for a fox, not a dragon— “I presume you already know I heard all which was discussed. You are aware it is your lord’s nameday on the morrow?”
The maester raised a brow, puzzled, then nodded, “…Yes, my Lady, but duty calls—“
“And you know I am relentless, so be no fool— you will send word immediately, yes?”
You cocked your head to the side, continuing, “I want full accounting of grain stores from both Castle Cerwyn and Hornwood. Barley, oats, root vegetables, livestock numbers, fodder remaining. I want it tallied and sworn,” Your eyes narrowed, “And it will be ready by the first light, before my husband wakes.”
To argue against a Targaryen princess, and this one especially, would be a foolish thing to do. To reason, perhaps, would be smarter, “My lord has given instruction.”
“And I amend it. This dispute will not reach Winterfell. It will be resolved before it does."
“…And this is for Lord Stark’s judgement?”
You observed your nails, feigning disinterest, “Call it what you will, I do this in his good name. I will arrive on dragonback with our steward. It will be quick,” You sighed, “My husband’s nameday will not be tainted by petty lords. By the time he wakes, he’ll find this matter resolved.”
Kennet could only incline his head and comply, "...It will be as you wish it, my lady.” For if the wolf could be matched in wit and bite, it would be by none other than his own wife.
Blankets of pure, white snow stretched over the northern lands. Wagons stood on each side. Northern men would carve one another into oak if they could, but community meant everything in the North, and it could not afford a moment of fragility.
Even in conflict, they had one thing in common. Southerners repulsed them, and moreover, they shied away from southern politics. So to be summoned by a southern woman in their own lands, much less a Targaryen dragonrider who was now their overseer, needless to say— they were not happy, not at all.
A shriek echoed throughout the vast void that was this blizzard of a field, and a large shadow was cast above the men. You descended beyond the skies, with your dragon landing safely.
Groups of men bow to the Lady of the North. Without much flourish, you dismount your companion, and waste no time:
“Which party withheld grain first?” Stern. Stable, in control. Your past shaped you into what you were now; if not adored, you were at least respected to a degree here.
Lord Cerwyn shivered. Was it from the brutal chill of winter, or the possibility of getting smoked like a little lamb?
“Payment was delayed.” He'd finally manage.
Lord Hornwood’s eyes widened, “Our granary roof fell! We asked f'time, not mercy!”
You raised your hand. Your steward opened up the pamphlet of the tallies gathered at dawn, and handed it over elegantly, “…The contract stands." You began, "The purchase was made under law, and payment shall be honored,”
Hornwood protested, “My Lady—“
“The laws of trade cannot be disrupted. However,” You continued, “Lord Cerwyn shall release the withheld grain immediately. Half of the original amount will be paid now. The rest repaid in spring with added barley from the first harvest.”
You fixed a shocked Cerwyn with a level look, as he returned it with one of oblivion, “If Lord Hornwood’s stores fail, your east flank weakens. May I remind you, that the North must always stand united as one. A slip of one house, and you will not fear wheats my lords, already raiders.”
The lords shared a look.
You continued your judgement, “No grain wagons move without the seal of Winterfell. I will see to it. This, it is shared survival.”
The men bow. They dare not protest, only follow your word, “It will be done, my Lady."
The two houses do not hold hands and sing off into the flakes of the cold. They don’t hold each other in affection.
But they are all bound in necessity and in survival. You understood. They understood.
And perhaps, that is enough.
Frantic and heavy footsteps left marks in the deep snow. Cregan Stark, in all his disarray, headed over to the dragonpit he had built for his princess all those years ago. Humble in comparison to the original, now ruined one in King’s Landing, but a sweet gift.
What his dear wife did, was not so sweet. Once Cregan rose in the morn, he had grasped the empty sheets next to him, which had already grown cold. Only to hear from his maester that his lady rode off into the skies little after dawn, to solve a conflict you had overheard (you sneaky minx).
You hadn't been back for hours.
Thankfully, your dragon was a little less discreet than you were. He stormed into the pit, the slam of the doors echoing throughout it as they hit the walls. He rolled his eyes once he spotted you getting off your dragon, as if he were the princess and not you.
You turned to find your slightly agitated husband standing still. You rushed toward him, but he had already begun his monologue.
“What have you done? Did I have to pray to the Old Gods and new that some raider did not shoot you down—“ Clasping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down till your foreheads met, and you whispered against his lips,
“Happy nameday, love,” You giggled at his little frown, and crashed your lips against his before he could retaliate. There was nothing for Cregan to do, other than return it, before you pulled away and he grumbled at the loss of contact. “May your winters be many.”
"My winters will be scarce if you do not quit." He snaked his arms around you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t adore the way he hovered over you completely, “Is that your gift to me? A heart attack?”
You could but laugh at that.
“A haart-uh-tack.”
Cregan scoffed, and a truly devout smile made its way to his lips, as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. You laughed, and once he set you down, he went in for more.
He smelled of firewood smoke. Even amidst all this cold, you could smell him— take him in, all of him. The way pieces of his hair tickled your forehead, how the black furs of his attire loomed over, prickling at your chin and neck, how he could unapologetically swing you around if he wanted…
And despite all the fieriness you held, Cregan found patience in his heart for you. He learned to be gentle with you; not in the patronizing way, but out of true admiration. A soft sound left you once you felt him pull away. When he looked at you again, he was serious,
“I trust you to do just about anything. But,” His gloved hand stroked your cheek, “Just tell me you’re flying off next time.”
“I thought I would be back by noon,” You leaned into his hand, and intertwined your two arms around his singular one, “I helped some men carry over logs on dragonback, their barrow broke in the heaps of snow."
“Still—“
“It saves you the hassle and the headache,” With your hands on his chest, you gave a kiss to his jaw, “You deserve peace on this day. Your day. And I am sorry for worrying you."
He searched your eyes, and a certain spark overtook his. “You are good.” He rested his chin on your head, hugging you wholly, “So good to me. Only sometimes, you like to tip me over the edge, wife.”
You murmured an unusually unapologetic sorry in the ruffles and layers of his clothes, giggling when he’d respond, “No, you’re not.”
You’d take him riding afterwards on your dragon, which he was (more than he’d like to admit) always quite scared of, but he and the big thing grew friendlier each day. He loved looking down on Winterfell, its tall walls of granite and castles circling the Godswood.
The Great Hall of Winterfell bristled with crowds of nobles. In it, lords and ladies alike toasted and indulged in the banquet, a lively image.
The Lady of the North took it upon herself to curate this feast. Walked the markets, made spares as not to endanger the winter reserves, and commissioned fishermen and hunters expensively to gather food.
Your long curls hung over the chair, and you observed every move. You’d fix a smile at every lord that would bow in passing, and have already indulged in the crude gossips of the ladies. Your lord husband sat beside you, having drunk a cup or three of black beer.
You felt the scent linger as he leaned in to whisper, “You’ll scare ‘em off,” A wolfish smirk graced his features, “You’re scary, got more fangs than a direwolf."
“I am simply making sure all is well,” You placed your hand over his, and though yours paled in size compared to his, it still weakened him in the knees. You traced your fingers over his knuckles, smiling, “You’re quite pretty today, nameday boy.”
“Boy.” Cregan huffed, planting a soft kiss to your head. “Pretty, aye. You’re the only one who thinks so.”
A gasp feigning shock left your lips, and you gently rubbed along his jaw with your thumb, “Non-sense. You’re quite the beauty. Had I been born a man, I would joust and crown you king of love and beauty.”
He laughed, a deep and rough sound it was— but managed to still be kind on your ears. “You’d joust, even as a lady, I fear.”
“You fear?”
“I fear for the men you’d cripple.” Without a beat, he said, as if it were not even a question in his mind.
“I would not cripple them,” You waved him off, “But it would hurt them...” Your finger trailed over the interlaces of his braid. It made you smile, the sight of it.
You scooted over, closer to your husband, “You let me braid your hair, Cregan.” You murmured softly, “You are adorable.”
To see a man so big, both in reputation and size, be reduced to almost a pup of sorts— He blushed at your words, but retained a tight hold of your hand. “Yes. That I did. It made you happy… obviously.”
He turned to you fully, and scattered small pecks atop your head. Men and women could simply watch off to the side, the two of you being continuously enveloped around each other. Whether it was inappropriate or not, mattered nada amount to either of you.
“Thank you,” He cooed against you, “You did not have to do this.”
“No, I had to. Gods, your eyebags have been getting horrendous lately.” You smirked, and he pinched the skin on your hand.
“...Well, if I was born a man, would you love me the same?”
Cregan tilted his head, “You are still on the talk of that jousting bit,” He rolled his eyes, those beautiful greys of his,
“I would love you the same, were you a cedar-tree, moonbloom or dragonfly.”
“That is quite more complicated than the proposition of me having a cock.” Which elicited a harsher pinch now, and it made you squeal and lightly slap his hand away, but he grinned so hard, you could only smile back.
A dramatic sigh departed from you, “I love you too,” You said finally, and grasped around your cup of wine. It was not long after, that the two of you abandoned that feast, in search of a different dragonride.
I won’t have time to write this out for a long while, but I wanted to contribute to the discord Bingo! This is for oviposition 🥚 😈 I wrote this in bullet points, which is how I start writing most stuff so this is like a rough rough draft. Please steal! 🙏
- Zayne got too close to Ever and “disappeared”. They faked his death and locked him up and let their scientists do what they wanted with him.
- We know Ever is turning people into wanderers on accident, but this one is on purpose.
- But Zayne isn’t a normal human, and so he doesn’t become just another mindless weapon for Ever to use. He’s intelligent, and continues to rebel against the researchers.
- But he’s not the same Zayne. His mind is fractured, with periods of lucidity and periods of feral behavior.
- You get kidnapped by Ever, but since you’re not a docile child anymore, you fight against their experimentation
- They get ‘frustrated’ with you and send you to a different facility to teach you how bad it can be.
- Eventually you’re thrown in a cage with Zayne, and you don’t recognize him at all. To you, it’s just a large, strange-looking Wanderer. Abyssal plated skin, with fractures of pale blue radiation that leaks in between the armor. It stalks on all fours like a wolf, but there’s an extra pair of front arms, smaller that signals something about this creature is human— or used to be.
- It’s the face that unsettles you the most. Flat and featureless except for piercing golden eyes, and a jaw that opens to exhale a sparkling plume of smoke. But it’s not heat that emanates, but frost. Like the fog from liquid nitrogen it spills from between his sharpened teeth.
- You might not recognize him, but he recognizes you. Even through the layers of mutation and trauma, the core of Zayne’s soul would always recognize you.
- He didn’t have a reason to break out until now, because he was fine being locked away from society when he became…this.
- Zayne doesn’t take pleasure in violence— but that was before. It’s almost comical the wide eyed terror on the Ever researchers’ faces as he tears through the reinforced steel like paper.
- If Ever is good at one thing, it's making mistakes. And they severely underestimated Zayne’s willpower.
- With his accessory arms, Zayne cradles you to his chest, keeping you close as he crashes through the rest of this place and out. Away from Ever and Linkon forever.
- It’s miles away, in the dead of night, when he arrives at an abandoned house.
- It’s here that Zaye tucks you away, hides you and gathers every soft thing in the house he can find to build a nest for you.
- It doesn’t make sense, but it does to his altered mind. He’s building up to something but even he’s not sure what, but instincts are driving him forward.
- Over the next week, you slowly grow to trust him. And you realize who he was– who he used to be. Zayne’s eyes are unmistakable, and he brings you some token that gives you a sign during one of his more lucid moments.
- For some reason, the distant deepspace tunnel keeps acting up. Bursts of energy like lightning that makes Zayne flinch whenever they happen.
- He slowly gets closer and closer to you. Keeping you the only place that feels safe, which is right up next to him,.
- One night, with the thunder of the deepspace’s rage high above, Zayne pushes you to the soft nest he’s built for you.
- The air is hot, humid, but you feel the cold brush of his heavy exhale as he pulls you closer. Dragging you down the soft bed he’s made for you and underneath his massive body.
- You’re scared at first, because something clearly isn’t right. But, his hands are still gentle as they paw at you, caress you, squeeze you.
- His tongue is icy cold against your skin as he tastes the sweat that beads up, and just like Zayne slowly regained your trust, he slowly gets you to melt in his hold.
- A wordless seduction that makes the primal part of your mind squeal with warning. Danger. Danger. Danger.
- But he feels so good, and the soft rumblings from his chest let you know he feels good too.
- Zayne is meticulous, even now. He doesn’t relent until you’re squirming on his tongue and riding the maw of his new face, begging him for more.
- When he places you back beneath him, you’re moving along with him. He doesn’t even need to pull you hard to get you to arch your back, ass in the air for him.
- The thickness of his cock takes your breath away, sliding inside slowly. Zayne keeps you firmly in place with his extra arms, and the heavy weight of his torso curls over your prone body.
- The fucking is slow at first. Testing. Zayne’s never used this new body like this before, and his mind is having a hard time remembering that you’re breakable. He tries to retain his senses, but there’s something louder inside him that has him fucking harder.
- The thrusts feel shallow to him, because you’re so much smaller compared to him now. He needs to be deeper, but he doesn’t know why. Deeper and deeper.
- It’s like the staticky radiation from the deepspace tunnel is whispering to him. He’s chasing something that makes his chest flutter and gut twist– something terrifying and inevitable.
- His cock is thick, and ribbed down to the softer base. The texture is so irregular there’s no getting used to his powerful thrusts.
- Not even Zayne knows what’s happening when it slowly gets more difficult to pull out, a flare growing the closer he gets and catching. It doesn’t matter how wet you are or how wide he stretched you on his massive tongue, the stretch mixes a little sting of pain with all the melty pleasure.
- Zayne pushes your face further into the nest, and pulls your hips up and against him lifting your knees up off the bed.
- You dangle off his knot, and feel the heavy throb inside as he comes. The vibrations of his moans rattle the cracked windows, and for a moment— among the inhuman snarls, you can almost almost hear Zayne’s voice again.
- It startles him nearly as much as you, feeling the swell of something travel down his length. It’s round. It’s cold. It’s amazing.
- You’re drooling, eyes crossing. Unbeknown to you both is that his come and saliva have turned your brain to mush. So full of dopamine and oxytocin that you couldn’t feel pain even if you wanted to.
- And it’s Zayne. No matter what, Zayne would never hurt you, not even now.
- With each little egg that pushes into you, a sense of deep, ambrosial satisfaction grows in Zayne’s chest.
- It was like you were made for him. Like the both of you were made for this.
- There’s not a lot, only five of six. But by the time he’s done and gently sets you back down— still nestled inside, of course— you feel so perfectly and wonderfully full.
- Zayne purrs softly, licking at your sated, limp body to clean you up and then carefully bundles you back up in the blankets.
- He curls around you, arm placed protectively over you. The haze from his mind has faded and he feels— almost — like himself again.
- He wants to tell you he’s sorry. He wants to tell you he loves you. He wants to tell you to run. But his animalistic maw can only form growls and snarls that sound vaguely tender. You smile at him, and Zayne feels the acute agonizing pain of having everything he wants and yet not quite.
- Fun little twist?
- EVER gives you another week before interfering. Truth be told this was all a part of the experiment.
- The eggs? Their little hollow protocores. During their experiments, Zayne’s body could only create weak or powerful cores. They need to be charged somehow….and what better incubator to charge them than you? An endless renewable power source.
(I use google translate okay.. THE PICTURE IS NOT MINE!!)
First of all, I’ve read several “character studies” about Flins on Tumblr, and for the most part I strongly agree with both their questions and their analyses. Oh, how I wish I could analyze a character I love with that level of dedication, writing paragraph after paragraph without getting tired. Unfortunately, since English isn’t my first language, I still have to rely on Google Translate to make sure of certain words I don’t know. I really admire the people who analyze Flins—it helps me understand his “character” on a much deeper and more intentional level than before.
Okay, most people probably already know this, but from Linnea’s story and the website I checked, there are actually several different types of fae. For example:
• The Vila
• Domovoy
• Leshy
• Volkodlak
• Snegovik
• Jack Frosts
There are also less common fae, such as Lantern Fae, Sirens, and Augury Birds.
That’s what I found from the website. Then after doing some research:
• Vila
According to Natalie Kononenko, vilas are female nature spirits who have an ambivalent relationship with humans. In fairy tales, they may act maliciously (killing people, destroying crops), but they can also help the hero by giving magical objects or mounts. They may also display warrior-like qualities. They’re even divided further—some live in forests, some are water nymphs, and others are associated with clouds. I wonder if in Snezhnaya they’ll divide these groups based on their “legends” (like different locations).
• Domovoy
They are described as household guardian spirits—small, old-looking beings with glowing eyes who protect families. However, they can become hostile if the household is messy or neglected.
• Leshy
A forest guardian. Protector of wild animals, etc. They’re even known as shape-shifters.
• Volkodlak
A term referring to wolf-like or vampire-like creatures (usually depicted as intelligent but savage beings, whether due to a “curse” or other reasons).
• Snegovik
Associated with winter. Folklore suggests that a Snegovik has a cold touch that can freeze skin and cause weakness.
• Jack Frosts
Often depicted as mischievous sprites or “winter fairies” responsible for cold weather, icy window patterns, and nipped fingers. Originating from Norse traditions (Jokul Frosti), they’re associated with creating beauty through frost but also bringing harsh cold. One example of this type is none other than Lumi. Because her element leans more toward Geo, unlike other Jack Frosts who tend to have blue tones, it makes Lumi feel “different” (and you already know the rest).
• Augury Bird
One example would be Linnea and her sister. They seem to have wing-like features on their heads, and during their burst, those wings briefly expand (which is both cute and funny at the same time). Linnea’s skin also looks crystal-like and colorful. Based on the name “Augury Bird,” it clearly symbolizes a bird—probably because of the wings.
• Sirens
They tend to use sound/sonic waves to lure their targets. Naturally, they’re closely associated with the sea.
• Lantern Fae
OKAY, this one… one of the ones we know best—who else if not FLINS! According to the wiki, lantern fae are based on will-o’-the-wisp.
This type of fae is incredibly interesting. Why? If they ask to “have your name,” they may literally steal it.
Saying “thank you” implies a debt that you now owe them. And I REALLY want to emphasize these two points. Just imagine (yes, I’m talking about Flins) when he casually says, “May I have your name?”—and someone actually gives their NAME. Or maybe the person instead says, “You may know my name,” because those two feel different somehow? (I’m not sure how to explain it.)
I also once read a fanfic where, back when Belyi Tsar still ruled, Flins helped a human—and when that human tried to thank him, Flins quickly silenced them, saying it would be better not to thank a fae like him.
Because of that, in the trailer it’s said that fae cannot lie. But that doesn’t mean they can’t twist their words to get what they want. They won’t hesitate to give incomplete information, leading humans to misunderstand and accept something incorrectly. Just like when Flins wanted to “accuse” someone in the trailer—he said that as a lightkeeper, he couldn’t possibly be suspected as a “thief,” right?
Flins never said that the journey would be more “terrifying” for ordinary humans. And to him, that seems to be something entertaining—even something that amuses him. This side of him keeps making me think.
The fact that Linnea has a weakness to metal/iron suggests that each type of fae has different weaknesses. Meanwhile, Flins wears a lot of metal and can even go to Aino's place (Which is a place full of metal and iron) without any problem.
Have you ever wondered what would happen if Nikita discovered Flins’ true identity? Would they research and use metal or iron as a way to prove that Flins is a fae? Also, Flins’ true form is just a “blue flame,” known as an “azure flame.” He can shapeshift into anything, which explains why he doesn’t have the typical pointed ears of a fae—though he does lack pupils, which is interesting. And it makes me wonder… does he actually have a gender? His name is Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins, but does he truly have one? It’s funny to think that his true form is basically a flame, yet he has a gender. Or maybe he just got used to appearing male and decided, “I’ll just be a guy,” which is why he uses he/him pronouns.
But then again, he used to be a noble in Snezhnaya, right? Would he really appear as a noble in his “true form”? I feel like he’s been using his human form since long ago (correct me if I’m wrong).
(We won’t talk about his sexuality…)
THE POINT IS I AM SO, SO EXCITED FOR SNEZHNAYA’S RELEASE ON AUGUST 12. I really hope that when we use Flins, there will be interesting interactions and new voice lines about that place. After all, he left Snezhnaya after Belyi Tsar’s reign ended.
I NEED 9999+ PARAGRAPHS ABOUT FLINS’ BACKSTORY, HOYO PLEASE!!! I CRAVE MORE!!! I really hope that in Snezhnaya we’ll get to learn more about this race. I’m serious. I’m so excited and can’t wait!
(There’s actually a lot more, but most of it has already been discussed by others, so I don’t feel the need to write it all out.) THAT’S ALL FROM ME.
It was just another night living in the home of what you quite affectionately referred to as your “Frat Pack”. You’d been living with Ruhn, Declan, and Flynn for decades, and you wouldn’t trade your best friends for the world. Even when Ruhn moved into an apartment with Lydia and you gained a trio of fire sprites, along with the fucking new Prime of the Valbaran Wolves and your favorite Hot Mess Express merman, you still loved living with all of them.
The chaos comforted you, even with Flynn’s shitty playlist blasting in the background. The thump of the music beneath your feet melted just right with the lingering hazy smoke all throughout the house. It was just another normal night. So why was Ithan acting so weird?
From where you sat curled up on the couch next to Declan, you had a perfect view of him standing halfway up the stairs, leaning against the railing while looking over the living room. But the wolf that you knew to be decently steady and quiet was acting oddly fidgety. And all night, he would switch between staring at you and looking away the second that you would glance back at him. And even what might have been even more concerning: despite the fact that you mandated that this house stay at a perfect temperature of 68 degrees all year round, you could spy a thin layer of frost covering the steps.
Deciding to finally get an answer about what the fuck was wrong with him tonight, you jumped up from the couch and walked over to him. Making sure to melt the frost under your feet, you sidled up next to him, both of you leaning against the creaky wooden railing. Not wanting to spook him, you gingerly laced your fingers with his, letting him squeeze your hand.
“What’s up with you tonight?”
He finally tore his eyes away from the chaos of the party downstairs and looked down at you before shrugging. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
From the tension in his broad shoulders and the trepidation in his honey brown eyes, you knew damn well that wasn’t true. You hitched an eyebrow up at him and scoffed. “You’ve never been a good liar, Pup. And you’re making it snow.”
True to your word, you reached up with your other hand to brush a small pile of snow flurries off his shoulder. He deeply sighed and glanced down at your entwined hand. “I just missed you, I guess. Didn’t want to bother you.”
The fuck? Since when did Ithan not spend most of his free time all over you?
You turned to look at him, cupping his jaw with your palm and pulling it up to look at you. “Why would you be bothering me, love? There’s no reason for you to be up here all by yourself.”
The tips of his cheeks flushed a beautiful rosy pink and you felt his breath hitch. “Well, I guess I wanted to be close to you but didn’t want to make you feel awkward.”
It was fucking adorable to see the otherwise confident male nervous and blushing in front of you, even if you still didn’t understand what was bothering him.
You tilted your head at him in question. “So…why didn’t you just come sit on the couch with me? There was room.”
His eyes fluttered shut momentarily. “I, it’s stupid because I know that it’s different for all of you because you’ve known each other for so long and that’s why you’re so comfortable around each other, but I guess I’m just not there yet. I haven’t been that close to someone since Connor, besides you, of course.”
He opened his eyes back up and your heart jumped at the longing written there. “Is it that bad that I just want you to myself sometimes?”
You took another step up and into his arms, wrapping yours around his waist. “Of course not, love. But why didn’t you just say that? We could’ve been up in your room the whole time.”
His entire body shivered as his pupils dilated. “Frankly, I’m not sure I trust myself to be in a room with you and a bed right now. I can’t do the things I want to do to you with so many people in this house.”
A warm rush flowed through you as you rose up on your toes to swiftly press a gentle kiss against his lips. “And why not?”
Ithan pulled you into his chest and you melted into him almost instantly. He then leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Because no one else needs to hear that besides us.”
You softly giggled into his shoulder at him being so careful. Pulling back, you looked back into his eyes, carefully toeing a line of love and incredulity for the male. He was being quite silly about all of this in your opinion.
“Ithan, do you know how many times I’ve heard Flynn fucking someone in his room over the years? Enough that we don’t give a fuck. I mean, Dec was practically laying on top of Marc while I was sitting next to them. It’s not a big deal. And I can guarantee you that they’ve heard me having sex more times than anyone should, so it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
He playfully rolled his eyes at you before moving to nip at the soft skin right believe your ear. “It’s not you that I’m worried about them hearing.”
Well, if that didn’t make you just want to drag him right upstairs.
You moved just about as close to Ithan as your position on the stairs would let you. Tilting your head at him with a sneaky little smile gracing your lips, you leaned forward to whisper into his ear, your sharp canines grazing the shell of it. “Is that right? Afraid I’ll make you scream for me, Holstrom?”
A low growl echoed from his chest into mine and a hand moving far quicker than I expected curled around your waist. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. You and I both know that its only the pretty little sounds you make that get me going.”
You pulled your head back to look into his eyes, seeing the very evident challenge there. “And if I were to promise to be quiet tonight?”
Ithan’s other hand wrapped around your wrist and started to pull you up the stairs. As he led you along, he threw a low whisper over his shoulder. “I’m not quite sure that you’re capable of that, sweetheart. But I’m definitely willing to find out.”
As soon as you both stood in his room and the door snicked shut behind you, Ithan whirled around and pushed your hips back into the wood. The door creaked behind you as he kissed you, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair and wrap around your neck.
Ithan Holstrom never half-assed anything in his life, always giving nothing or his all. And that certainly held true when it came to you. It didn’t take but a few seconds for his tongue to slip past your lips. His hands started roaming your body; one hand slipping under your sweater and the other large palm gripping your ass.
The territorial, almost feral way he held you against his body already had you clenching your thighs and whines threatening to crawl up your throat. But you promised to be quiet, to save what little of pride remained. You knew he was just a little embarrassed at how loud the two of you had been a week or two ago, and the boys had been teasing him about it. Not that they had any room to speak, Flynn and Ruhn had never been shy about bringing random girls around and fucking them with no concern for anyone else in this house, not that you didn’t do that too.
But you made a promise, so you swallowed down your moans and leaned into him. Ithan’s tongue flicked along yours as he continued to run his hands along your body. The one under your shirt slowly squeezed your breast and pinched at your hardened nipples through your thin, lace, pathetic excuse for a bra, and fuck did that make you wet. His other hand had curved around to the front of your jeans, rubbing the thick seam between your legs right against your clit, already brushing into the rough fabric through the almost nonexistent layer of your soaked panties.
His lips moved down to kiss along your long neck. Your hand that was curled into his hair tugged at the short golden-brown strands. Rolling your eyes back in your head and biting your lip, you were just barely able to bite back the moans begging to leave your mouth.
You wanted him So. Fucking. Bad.
There was no possible way you could think past the cloud of heady pleasure wrapped around your entire body. Kicking your legs apart with his foot, you felt his sharp teeth brush against your shoulder and almost bite down, a godsdamn beautiful growl echoed from him.
Ithan’s hand slowly crawled up from between your thighs. In less than a minute, he’d unbuttoned, unzipped, and slid your jeans down, a finger hooked in the waistband of the sluttiest pair of lacy underwear that you owned. Honestly, Ithan should’ve gotten the clue earlier when he saw you get dressed. Hel would have to freeze over before you went to bed tonight without having him fuck you.
But first, you had the perfect way to tease him and keep yourself quiet. You slowly pulled back, grabbing his hands and bringing them down to rest between you before letting go. You looked right into his blown-out eyes as you pulled off your sweater and threw it near the hamper behind him. Ithan’s eyes snapped down to stare at your full and exposed breasts before him.
Soon after, your bra and his shirt joined your sweater, leaving only his jeans between you. Before he could move, you started to slide down the back of the door, falling to your knees right between his. You stared right up into those pretty brown eyes, letting your hands move on autopilot, easily undoing his belt. Before you knew it, his pants were dropping to the floor, and you were taking the pink tip of his cock past your lips.
A strangled groan left Ithan’s lips as he slowly thrust into your mouth, setting a steady rhythm. With your head trapped between his hips and the door, you were content to sit back and let him use your mouth. His thick, heavy cock moving along your tongue felt fucking amazing.
Before long, his hands were wrapped in your hair, and his thrusts started to become desperate and erratic. Those pretty little groans and vulpine whines coming from him sounded just amazing and it was all you wanted to hear.
Gods, did he turn you on. You spread your thighs and slipped your hands down between them. Two fingers plunged right into your soaking wet pussy and the other moved to swirl tight circles around your clit. It wasn’t even near enough to make you come, but it at least took the edge off.
Still looking up at Ithan, you almost smiled at the pure pleasure you spied there, seeing how close he was to coming down your throat. And when you hummed and took him right up to the hilt, his strong thighs trembled and he started to fall apart, shooting thick strands of his cum onto your tongue.
Slowing the slide of your lips, you coaxed him through his orgasm, all while looking up at that pretty face. Reluctantly pulling your hands from your sensitive cunt, you let him pull you up to your feet.
You let Ithan hold onto your hips as he kissed you deeply. Pulling back, he moved the two of you to stand at the foot of his massive bed. Suddenly, he flipped you around and pushed your chest down towards the bed, leaving your calves hanging off the end. He quickly pulled you up by the hips to your hands and knees, and bending over to whisper in your ear as he nibbled on it.
“Good girl. Now keep that pretty mouth closed for me, Princess. But I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
Without any warning, he kneeled behind you on the bed and thrust his huge cock inside you in one go. The burning stretch took your breath away, just like it did every time. Ithan slowly started moving, the pull of his cock in and out of you sending shocks up and down your spine.
A flurry of delicious moans and groans left Ithan’s lips, but he was far quieter than you were used to. Perhaps it really was your own sounds that affected him so much. You were honestly surprised and a little impressed with yourself; you’d never been good at keeping your mouth shut. And with how hard he was fucking you, it was more than a considerable effort to do so.
His large, calloused hands gripping hard around your hips and pulling you back onto him felt fucking fantastic. You moved down from your hands and wrapped your arms around a pillow. With your face buried in the plush pillow, you groaned as your torso bent into what was likely a purely demonic arch. The new position made his cock feel even bigger inside you, as if that was possible.
You already felt like you were practically floating when one of Ithan’s hands slipped down to rub at your clit. Narrowly avoiding screaming into the pillow, you ground your hips back into him, your brain narrowing in on the pure pleasure growing in your body. With the combined effort of holding yourself up and not begging for Ithan to make you come, your entire body was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
He felt fucking amazing, pulling you right to the edge. You almost couldn’t take it anymore. So when your vision started to blur, you lifted your head from the pillow and muttered out a tiny whine.
“Please.”
Behind you, Ithan growled and slammed his cock deep in you three more times before groaning and releasing inside your tight pussy that was squeezing him just right. The feel of his cock twitching as he filled you up finally pushed you head-first into your climax.
Whining into the pillow, shockwaves of pleasure continued to wreck your body. Ithan’s pace slowed, and his hands gently rubbed up and down your back and aching thighs, fucking you through your orgasm.
After a few minutes, he slowly pulled out and gently moved you to rest on your back. Your vision was still a bit spotty, and you barely even noticed as he moved around the room, grabbing a comfy shirt of his to slip you into and taking a warm washcloth and cleaning between your thighs.
Once your brain had gone through a full reboot cycle, you looked up at him, his golden tan chest still heaving from exertion as he pulled a pair of sweatpants on and nestled up on the bed next to you. For a while, neither of you said anything; you just curled up into his chest while his fingers gently ran through your tangled hair.
You looked back up at him and poked his cheek with the tip of your finger. “For future reference: while that was fun, I do enjoy hearing your pretty voice, and I don’t give a damn if anyone else hears you.”
Ithan just rolled his eyes at you and pressed a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Your irreverence never fails to shock me.”
This post has been gathering dust in my drafts since January 2025 because I haven't touched Investigations 2 in ages but I finally finished it this week so now I can talk to you about my favourite interpretation of the game's main theme: how legacy is presented through protégés. Almost every character has one, so let's take a look at the list:
Gregory Edgeworth -> Eddie Fender & Miles Edgeworth
Excelsius Winner -> Eustace Winner
Manfred Von Karma -> Franziska Von Karma (& Miles Edgeworth)
The reason this theme is so well-integrated throughout the story is that there's a variety in its interpretations. Some of the parental figures try to endow knowledge onto their successor and have genuine chemistry (Lotta & Tabby); some of the protégés feel like they will never live up to the legacy of their predecessor (Eustace & Excelsius, initially), while others strive to do right by them (Judy & Samson, Shi-Long & his dad). Simeon's situation contrasts so nicely with Edgeworth's because we see him try to desperately reject his father when, in reality, they share many commonalities. Simeon's entire existence hinges on revenge and he even goes so far as to exploit his second father figure, Kanis, by using him as a pawn in his grand plan - we can compare this to Edgeworth's relationship with Manfred, who was also a villainous second father, and how he overcame that situation by eventually breaking away from the Von Karma legacy.
Then, we have the characters who don't belong on this list and struggle because of that. In his capacity as a parental figure, Shi-Long is dealing with the aftermath of the first game (Shih-na's betrayal and his 100 men disbanding) and is persistent on working as a lone wolf. Oppositely, Kay is trying her best to recruit new friends/ potential Yatagarasu members because she has to carry that mantle alone after the original trio's fate. It's interesting because, although she and Edgeworth are challenged differently by this theme, they're both given the same resolution in the end.
As the protagonist, Edgeworth embodies this theme in its totality through his game-long identity crisis. With Manfred's shadow looming in the background and Gregory's legacy being resurrected via Fender, we see Edgeworth question his career and character as a prosecutor by flirting with the idea of becoming a defence attorney, and then ultimately come to the conclusion that pivoting to that would be him succumbing to the pressure of his father's posthumous presence so he becomes a prosecutor again because he genuinely wants to. In the game's conclusion, both he and Kay redefine what it means to do what they do and for what reason...... and then Edgeworth returns in Dual Destinies wearing secretary glasses and acting a fool.
Been trying to put my thoughts all in order ever since I watched the live action Httyd yesterday. Had a night to sleep on it.
Everything of what I liked and didn't like is under the "keep reading" for the sake of spoilers and length.
Things I liked:
Mason Thames as Hiccup.
Nico Parks as Astrid.
Actually, I like how all the Dragon Riders were portrayed. Fishlegs in particular!
Toothless didn't end up bothering me as much as I thought he would.
I actually really ended up liking the design of the other dragons, of Hookfang in particular.
An even bigger Red Death!
Also the Red Death appeared red to me!
Astrid taking on the Red Death's teeth just to give Stormfly a chance to escape.
Phlegma, glad she had a more prominent role in this one. I didn't even know who she was in the animated movie.
The subplot of Snotlout and Spitelout that was ripped straight from the shows.
Nick Frost. (I also greatly enjoyed him in the Cornetto Trilogy)
The new backstory of Berk; not just a Viking tribe who came and made this island their home, but instead warriors from several different tribes who came together to fight for a single cause. So many different cultures mingling together, it makes me wonder how much of their cultures has stayed throughout the generations and which have evolved and intermingled.
Giving Astrid a new kind of purpose was interesting.
The implication that Stoick was keeping his eye on Astrid, which made her basically turning her back on him to stick to Hiccup's side even more meaningful. It's been confirmed that she, who came from nothing, stands to lose everything if she stuck by Hiccup and yet she still did.
That moment between Stoick and Astrid when they thought they had lost Hiccup. Nico Parks was so good at portraying Astrid who wanted to break down crying as well, but kept it together for her chief and the now grieving father.
I had to come around to the fact that it's basically a shot-for-shot remake, but the extra added scenes like the one during the first voyage to the nest were enjoyable.
It's a Live Action and so it's more grounded in reality, but it also didn't lose the typical Httyd thing of people getting thrown around and yet basically being fine.
I love Astrid as a lone wolf in the first animated movie, but I also love her when she's friends and hyping the other would-be Dragon Riders up.
I love that Hiccup and Astrid interact more prior to the Romantic Flight scene. It's like we got that delete scene from 2010 animated movie returned to us, even if she was a little bit mean, lol.
Hiccup wasn't used as a reason/threat to get the majority of Berk to go on that first voyage in the movie.
Fishlegs' cards already appearing in this movie and probably due to him making them after reading the Book of Dragons hundreds of times.
LOOOOOOOVED whenever Stormfly was on screen. I could just watch an hour of her flicking her spines at people. (Likewise, I could just watch Astrid cartwheel all over the place.)
The appearances of the Rumblehorns and the Skrills.
Forbidden Friendship.
It's no longer just an analogy, the Red Death is a queen dragon.
The Red Death's control over dragons has been confirmed as well. (Like how Stormfly had a hard time ignoring her.)
They kept Hiccup losing his leg! (despite the appearance of amputees played by actors who aren't amputees in real life, I still kind of worried, but they kept it!)
The outfits were cool!
The environment looked and felt more real and "accurate" to how Vikings lived. (no wooden bed with just one thin little blanket, lol)
Things I didn't like as much:
Surprisingly enough? Gerard Butler reprising his role as Stoick. I was very much in the camp of liking his return to the Httyd series in the live action, but for some reason I did not like Stoick as much in the LA as I ended up doing the first time I watch the first Httyd movie.
The pacing was off in places. Some scenes that should've taken their time went by too fast and some that were drawn out could've picked up the pace a little.
Test Drive in particular felt very long and the emptiness when they were falling, which should've felt jarring and suspenseful, felt awkward instead. I feel like that pause in the sountrack could've done with some muffled noises, maybe a rapid joint heartbeat. It's a cliche, but it's a good one!
Test Drive was also very hard to watch because of the near constant shaky cam. I felt myself becoming just slightly dizzy. ;-;
No idea how I feel about Astrid being the leader of the Dragon Riders instead of Hiccup. I mean, it is a concept very much started in the tv-shows and only implied in the movies. But still, it's "Hiccup and the Dragon Riders," no? ;-; It always felt so special to me because Hiccup was this outcast and now he has these ride or dies with him!
Toothless could have emoted more. (I really missed his threatening gazes and his realization when Hiccup was doing something to his tail.)
Toothless was clumsier? I legitimately wondered if there was something wrong with his wings as well, but that may just purely be a me problem.
The Book of Dragons was just kind of glossed over? The Thunderdrum and the Timberjack were mentioned, but all the others like the Whispering Death, the Skrill, the Changewing, the Boneknapper or what all of these dragons could do? Not mentioned.
I don't believe Toothless was trying to draw Hiccup this time. I certainly didn't see a face in it.
Toothless appears less powerful. (Or perhaps, that's just what it looks like because they tried to make the live action more realistic.)
BIG BOY spoilers for season 5 but I really wanna talk about how brilliant episode 1 is (I just woke up and I'm not in the fuzzy headspace I was yesterday)
Off the bat also I do wanna mention the art style is changing again a little! It's a bit different from season four so far. I really like the way it's looking though. Seven looks fucking GOOD in so many of these scenes
Anyways it took me an EMBARASSING four fucking minutes to realize that 1) this was not really happening irl and 2) that the dome was supposed to represent Seven's headspace
anyways The place they're standing in at the start is really interesting to me. They're on Chicken Island obviously but it's Chicken Island in Seven's head. And the way it is in his head is it's foggy, cloudy, and absolutely deserted. I mean there's already not many people on Chicken Island, but it's like dead empty. Much like this scene from the s3 outro:
(didn't know this ED had twenty fucking variations of this scene now jesus christ)
It also feels like it's littered with a lot of references from past episodes. The ducky floatie feels like a reference to the episode where we met DaChun in season 1, the coconut Hua's messing with feels like a reference to that as well, this all feels very reminiscent of invading Captain Jack's ship, the episode even starts with the "First mission" title card, which the show doesn't really use anymore. There's a lot of like, old references in here that all seem kind of tainted and dulled by this grayed out, melancholic perception of Chicken Island.
The second I saw this I instantly thought of the scene from season 3:
I just I dunno I really really like this. I like how they chose to represent his mindscape and the references to the past experiences he can remember.
And I also really like how the different levels represented the different poisons in his body. The first being a puzzle about Manjusaka, the second about the Dark Frost blade
(which also: there are random figures hidden in the ice in this scene that made me tweak out.
is that fucking blackbird? who the fuck are you)
I love how the wolf is drawn and reflects the exact effects of the blade. The animalistic, heightened senses, the fact it's not inherently an evil entity, it's capable of being nice, it's just got heightened aggression it can barely control. Anyway and then the fucking final layer.
Literally the exact spot he once stood in.
And the fucking. The thing that fights him. That tries so hard to stop him from opening the door. It's not just himself, it's a fucking amalgamation of every reason why he shouldn't, why he originally did this to himself: the Shadow killers, faces we don't even recognize, the girl in white, faces we'll probably never see again but that will haunt some deep corner of him, and it's himself. and it's not the thousand demon daggers that kills it, it's just the girl in white's blade. Her dinky little run of the mill sword.
I think it's really, really important that the "past him" asks: If you could've done this too, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you have run away? You would've wanted a new life too. Don't do this again. Don't do this to me.
I started this season worried we were gonna hard pivot at "oh, Seven and the past Seven are two different people" but they're not and this, to me, clearly illustrates that they're not. He wanted this. He wanted this life to end. He wanted to run away, he didn't want this life, exactly like I've been saying since fucking season 3. He wasn't a ruthless, cold hearted killer, at his core he was a child who did what he needed to. He only fought on missions, he was told directly to kill Stanians on sight, but he wanted to be empathetic, he wanted to care so badly, and he wanted to protect somebody. The FIRST fucking time he EVER gets to directly, blatantly, and loudly protect somebody he even MILDLY cares about, it's enough to convince him to never want to do this again. And now with the added context that the Thousand Demon Daggers was slowly killing him - he didn't just fight some demon and won but he signed his fucking life over and was bound to this sword that was ripping him apart, he wanted to leave so badly, and the only way he did was in a way that almost killed him anyways. Episode 2 made me afraid too, because of the way the flashback controlled him, but ultimately, he's already had these flashbacks THE ENTIRE SHOW. These have happened to him before, but now they're so much louder, they're overwhelming and powerful, he's conscious but he's not, he doesn't know how to stop, sometimes he doesn't even actually know where he is. He's not being 'possessed' by somebody else or something, he is somebody riddled with PTSD taken over by those memories.
I also really wanna know what it is 'Seven' is saying here. His mouth is obviously moving like he's speaking but there's no audio or captions to it, (Netflix if you love me you'll give me something good god,) but it looks like Seven doesn't know what he's saying here either. and I just really really really wanna know. This is going to become my new "what was in the letter."
Anyways feel free to pile on more thoughts cus thats all I have right now. I ran into this season (foolishly) (once again) praying I'd get end game Seven x Thirteen but it seems I will spend the duration of season 5 in the trenches, fighting for my life, kicking and screaming, shitting my pants and sniffling, begging, "NOOOOO HE'S THE SAME PERSON HE WAS BEFORE!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! THEY'RE NOT TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Thirteen save me, save me Thirteen, Thirteen, Thirteen save me.
