frystsnow

[frystsnow]

“a kiss would make me feel better.”

the exalted son of stoick the vastㅤ/ㅤfriend of dragons,ㅤfoe to menㅤ/ㅤfear struck simply with the utterance of håkan haddock's name.ㅤbefore jack sits the man feared / revered across the archipelago.ㅤthey live in a rare period of calm where tribes have found contentment within their territories,ㅤyet fables of the berkian's accomplishments have only continued to spread and grow.ㅤbards sing their false tunes, believing that dragons bow to his command.ㅤin truth,ㅤthe dragons are his charge,ㅤand any who dare to harm what is his are doomed to a righteous reckoning.

however,ㅤthere is a crucial core missing from the cacophony of every praise chorused of jack's betrothed.ㅤlike now,ㅤas the moon heir purses his lips in amusement at håkan holding up his weeping finger in offense.ㅤdroplets of blood spatter where stray skerries around varghal had once been.ㅤaggravation furrows the chief's brows as he stares at the angry crimson of the spreading blot and—in a display that jack isn't emotionally ready for—pouts.ㅤchildish and defeated.ㅤhåkan haddock,ㅤfearsome first rider of sky's piercers,ㅤalso happened to be an adorable fool of a man.

it takes unbelievable effort for jack to keep his laughter quelled,ㅤnot wishing for håkan to notice and only further deepen his moue.ㅤbut dancing glacier eyes speak enough volumes of his mirth even through pressed lips.ㅤhe raises his cloak and begins to wipe håkan's offending appendage clean.ㅤ❝we can patch the stain up with a layer of parchment. but you still should've rested. you've been sketching that map out the whole day, you blockhead.❞ㅤa sigh,ㅤbut the sound is more affectionate than exasperated. ㅤack withdraws the dark cloak from håkan's hand and squeezes around the cut to keep the wound flowing.ㅤ❝could you remind me where we keep the salve, kærr? i think it was up those shelves—❞

but the berkian hums before jack can move away,ㅤjutted lip gone to give way for a lopsided smile.ㅤunoccupied hands find one another to fill the gaps between their fingers and hearts.ㅤ‘a kiss would make me feel better.’ㅤthe playfulness makes jack's heart clench with bittersweet affection.ㅤboyish,ㅤeven with the new rigidness of his shoulders.ㅤjack squeezes their fingers back and imagines soothing the tension in his posture,ㅤif only for a moment.ㅤbut this is not the right opportunity to preach respite for his betrothed.ㅤhe'll have to save the genuine scolding for another day.

❝to ask for healing from the moontouched is no inexpensive matter,❞ㅤjack chides,ㅤthough the same cheerful glint remains in bright eyes.ㅤthey have long known each other far too long by now.ㅤeverything that is jack's—everything that is jack—wholly,ㅤunequivocally belongs to håkan.ㅤstill,ㅤthere are moments where jack reminisces the thrill of of uncertain chases,ㅤlonging glances, and unsaid words between the dramatics of banter.ㅤso jack pretends,ㅤthough yearning is easy to embody when he has only wanted the man who has always been in front of him.

ever the generous kindred of the moon,ㅤit is the obvious choice for jack to brush his lips against such a serious injury.ㅤthe frost prince traces the open line with the tip of his tongue to free it from all stain.ㅤtaste of iron and scent of torchfire lingers in the back of his mouth,ㅤand jack is more than eager to swallow håkan even at his most minute essence.ㅤfor all his titles,ㅤthe chief of berk is not above the northmost of north's incarnate as a selfish winter ofㅤtaking, taking, taking.

an exhale passes and ends the moment.ㅤa final kiss on the back of his beloved's hand.ㅤ❝there you go. 'n look at that, you've even stopped bleeding.❞ㅤeyes widen with an unconvincing oblivousness paired with tongue swiping over the remnants of his own blood-stained lips.ㅤa rite dutifully accomplished.ㅤand yet jack makes no action to away from his perch.ㅤdares to shrink the gap between them,ㅤto share the space that separates them until they are together and whole.ㅤ❝now tell me, how do you plan to repay me then, ástin mín?❞ㅤa futile ask,ㅤnot when jack leaves the answer welcome for håkan,ㅤshown by a sly gaze and an open heart:ㅤyou, you, you.

[frystsnow]

haha hey how you doing. you should uhhh totally check out my sexy new webpage because it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous! a long overdue big shoutout to @drakyns who gifted me this so we can match aesthetics, i'm kissing your face so much!! and to the talented corvus @aurivore for taking up this commission. i can't stress how satisfied i am with the website and how easy it was to install everything, and i highly recommend approaching them to have your own beautiful neocities!

on more technical updates, please note that i've: (1) updated my guidelines with compressed but still necessary information; (2) have a full dossier page now, though my canon-divergence post is in the works and i'm hoping to have that out this week, (3) made a headcanon masterlist while i was working on this! and (4) honestly just. look at the website. it's SO pretty, the aesthetics are so COOL (pun intended) that i spent a while just clicking on everything KHASDKHASD

[frystsnow]

[frystsnow]

thinking thoughts about how jack deserved to be a villain in his story... to become winter, to become what others believe him to be; hellion, loner, didn't need anyone! but he's got such a soft and warm heart beneath the cold, a genuine soul if not a little bit jaded from what he's gone through... he deserves everything and so much more and i'm emotional about it

[frystsnow]

haha whoa dude it's been a hot sec huh

[frystsnow]

@batoushoujo: she meows directly in his face. it is a meow full of smoke

RESTRAINING ORDER

[frystsnow]

would jack meow. for her

❝i'm not here to feed your wacky pet play kink, thanks!❞ㅤ

[frystsnow]

"Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother, I cannot click the book. Help. Turn the page. My hands are full of pudding."

❝why would you need bare hands to turn the page. don't think of it as two hands, it's four limbs.❞ㅤproceeds to swipe the other jack's tablet ( ??? ) with his bare feet.

[frystsnow]

HAHA HEY SO WHAT'S UP WITH THAT HUH

sighs. puts on clown nose

[frystsnow]

𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺 : BOLD . . . always applies. ITALICS . . . sometimes applies. STRIKEOUT . . . never applies/not comfortable with.

𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 & 𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑺. is submissive | is dominant | switch | prefers to top* | prefers to bottom* | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with any sex / gender | enjoys sex with aliens | enjoys sex with androids | enjoys sex with monsters | enjoys sex with multiple people at once | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | will have sex anytime | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual | fluctuating sex drive.

𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀 & 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 small build | medium build | athletic build | muscular build | curvy build | voluptuous build | wears boxers | wears briefs | wears lingerie | goes ‘ commando ’ | shaves / waxes | manscapes | doesn’t shave / wax | cup size a – c | cup size d – f | 1 – 5" in length | 6 – 9��� in length | 10” or over in length.

𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑺. is silent / makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand / partner / pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | growls | groans/grunts | fakes / exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud / appropriately vocal partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk.

𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵 𝑶𝑵𝑺 & 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺. having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched ( by their partner ) | being watched ( by a third party ) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘ daddy ’ | being called ‘ daddy ’ | calling their partner ‘ mommy ‘ | being called ‘ mommy ‘ | calling their partner ‘ master ‘ | being called ‘ master ‘ | calling their partner ‘ mistress ‘ | being called ‘ mistress ‘ | calling their partner ‘ sir ’ | being called ‘ sir ’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting / marking | being bitten / marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshiped | worshiping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | being pegged | pegging their partner | being edged | edging | anonymous sex | blood play | breeding | chastity devices | clothed / partially clothed | deep - throating | gun play | intercrural sex | knife play | lingerie | nipple play | orgasm denial | overstimulation | pregnancy | prostate milking | public sex | rimming | roleplay | sadism / masochism | size difference | squirting.

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑺. airplane | alleyway | bath | beach | bedroom | boat | bus | car | cathedral / church | cemetery | closet | concert | dressing room | elevator | empty or abandoned building | field | forest | gym | home bathroom | hospital | kitchen | library | movie theatre | museum | ocean | parking lot | planetarium | pool | public bathroom | rooftop | school | sex club | shower | tent | terrace | train | workplace.

notes:

¹ :ㅤjack is an unreliable narrator for his preferences. it's a bit... difficult to know what you like and don't like when you're not touched often, even when you crave it so badly! consecutively though as a result, it gives him a lot of open-mindedness to try new things, hence there's a lot of turn ons here that aren't striked out! so long as you give him room to adjust and adapt to sex, he's a bit of a sap and will like anything his partner likes.

² :ㅤthat being said, a few discoveries i've personally made is that jack is a switch. he'll say he prefers to top though is versatile enough to go along with whatever his partner prefers, but in reality he very much enjoys bottoming! as a person, he's a giver at heart and will enjoy whatever his partner prefers, but there's something about the sensation of being so inherently desired to the point of being touched and held so intimately that fills something ( pun intended! ) in all the years he's been alone. he'll never say it outright. i don't even think he's aware of how he likes to have sex for a long time. all this to say, i think you should dick / peg him down, but also let him absolutely spoil you (*/ω＼*)

³ :ㅤtemperature difference is a primary ( and perhaps jarring ) factor to consider when it comes to loving jack since his body temp is much lower than most. he's very much conscious about this quality and is one of the biggest reasons why he's initially timid about touching at first despite wanting to be close. you'll need to assure him that he can touch you, and that you're not uncomfortable. if anything, touching jack during sex feels like a cool breeze on a refreshing spring day.

⁴ :ㅤhe's also a very responsive lover! incredibly vocal in sex ( whether he be on top and giving your muse so much praise for feeling so good, or if he's at the bottom and moaning about how much he loves being together with his partner ), the absolute need to be touched and the safety and pleasure that a warm body brings, and being so sincerely honest and open about how much he enjoys being together with his partner. though he's generally closed off and doesn't often let his feelings be known, getting to the point of making love / having sex with him means he has absolute trust and adoration for his partner to make his feelings known. he's a truly sap at heart and wears his heart on his sleeve. i think it's why he enjoys overstimulation so much because he gets to feel good with his partner and only them alone. <3

[frystsnow]

ind. original character.

　　　as an empath, 　　my heart really aches when you guys are losers.

tem green. rules / about dark themes, silly nonsense, multi-fandom.

[frystsnow]

“How would a melody describe itself when asked?” ( flee )

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗡𝗨𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗦ㅤ♡ㅤ@xheartpages, flee.

❝philosophical today, aren’t we? i’m sure making fun of my music has nothing to do with it.❞ㅤhe releases the musical leaf to join the chorus of rustling trees above them,ㅤshivering to the reeds of autumn air.ㅤthe most dignified response flee returns is—simply sticking her tongue out at him with the sourest expression she can muster.ㅤit is a glowing example of all the ways he has been an astounding role modelㅤ(ㅤdepending on who asksㅤ)ㅤto his little sister,ㅤwhilst standing as a testament to all the ways she grows into their mother’s hair day by day.ㅤjarpr laughs in surprise at the thougt, the wind swirling around the sound as if he were still whistling tunes into a frond.ㅤperhaps he is the one with deep thoughts today to be contemplating how his little sister is growing too fast,ㅤtoo soon,ㅤyears gone in flitting wings. 

the hand around flee’s shift to intertwine their fingers together,ㅤlittle hands filling the space in his palms to shield them from the autumn air.ㅤhe hums,ㅤas if testing how the breeze were to echo his own voice back.ㅤhow does the sea understand its depth?ㅤhow does the wind know its heights?ㅤhow is a mother certain her love expands beyond both?

❝y’know i don’t actually know everything even though i say that, right?❞ㅤhe sighs in dramatic exasperation,ㅤswinging their arms together as they trek down the long road home.ㅤstill,ㅤas any responsible brother should,ㅤjarpr does try to pull an answer skyward where the skies are sure to know the answer even if his other hand comes down empty and his heart full.ㅤ❝what matters is that it… is! just—meant to be that way. it knows what it is, and continues to be.❞ㅤhazel eyes flick down to identical ones,ㅤsmile bright with the surety of a boy who knows the universe.ㅤ❝just like how we’re meant to be partners-in-crime, aren’t we, little bug?❞ㅤit is, it is, it is.

[frystsnow]

realized that july marks this blog reboot's 6 month / half a year since the resurrection™️ and i'm feeling. a little sappy about it! 🥹 to old friends who've been with me since i first had jack years ago, and to new friends who've been so encouraging and kind, thank you so much for being here in my little brainrot corner 🩷 it has been a wonderful time rediscovering this frosty boy into my adulthood, the experience has been incredibly cathartic to the kid in me ( 〃▽〃)

[frystsnow]

Another wip hehe ❄

Here's a wild Jack from @sboochi 's story Heirs.

GO AND CHECK IT OUT IT'S SO GOOD

I'm SO in love with these outfits!!

[frystsnow]

❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞

ㅤthe prince crowned by the moon liked to tease. that was no secret—neither in berk nor hrím—though it felt crueller now, in moments like these.

ㅤthe stone walls still held the last warmth of the sun, long since swallowed by berk’s jagged cliffs. beyond the shuttered window and oak door, the sounds of festivity still lingered—faint strings, bursts of laughter, the stomping of boots upon mead-slicked earth. drengr and commonfolk alike roared in celebration of a treaty sealed on the western borders: chiefs, lords, and wandering princes had gathered from across the archipelago to toast their berkian brethren, newly returned after two moon-cycles. / jack, though his smile remained that of a snow fox, bowed, and performed all the elegant tricks of etiquette as if they’d finally tamed his wild spirits. the glint in snow-playing eyes revealed to håkan that they didn’t. but the lunar herald nonetheless kept a respectful distance—far too respectful for håkan’s taste, the poor addict to his touch—for politics’ sake, whilst all tribes gathered in festivities.

ㅤberk’s chief had been confined to the high table, flanked by elders with sea-bleached beards and long-winded stories of wars past, and eager warlords feverishly telling stories of their favourite conquests and all their scars. he half listened. roasted yak smothered in cheese, strawberries, honeyed apples, and spiced wine—all his favourites—rested untouched on his plate. he tried to swallow, to use the spoons and knives, but the ache in his gut only grew, and his lips remained parched. @frystsnow kept dancing from afar; spinning skirts, lifting lads, laughing like it cost him nothing, always meeting his gaze. ‘later’, hiccup thought he saw those damnly pretty lips move in a promise. so he waited. and he waited. and he waited. and in those few torturous midnight hours of cheer, håkan was certain that he had waited more than any man on midgard ever had.

ㅤback to his quarters, alone at last and waiting still, hiccup thought madness might claim him. but lady freyja was a rewarding goddess, for she made the great door of his hall swing inward, inviting a gentle breeze of cold air and a figure that seemed to draw all light towards himself. jack. he hadn’t even knocked—of course he hadn’t, just like blizzards, he needn’t permission—he let himself in with that cocky tilt to his brows, sea-wind still clinging to his shoulders, eyes sharp as ever and mouth too smug for its own good. he looked over him, and felt his throat grow thirsty. he looked like the dusk of a fever dream, wearing a mixture of gifts: draped in white furs that cascaded around his frame, silver bracelets made only for his wrists and neck, and a silken robe that did little to disguise the lean strength beneath, the petit breadth of his chest, the curve of his waist. the dragon-kinned understood at that moment why so many chieftains were crazed by silver. if only he could gift him more rings of gold and finest laces.

ㅤhe kept on walking towards him as offerings do, stopping only one breath away, the scent of pine and distant northern lights clinging to him. håkan’s eyes narrowed, and he couldn’t help but swallow dryly. ‘i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i?’ it was a murmur, that grin wicked with mirth, a sleek thread weaving through the rough tapestry of the hall. he wanted to tear him apart.

ㅤ(his mind supplied, here are a few reasons why you shouldn’t kiss him now: 1) chieftains do not chase after their offerings; they endure, even if it kills them, and you’re already wearing the skin of black wolves on your shoulders. 2) your hands are thickened by forge work, bloodied still from battles fought abroad, your hair reeks of smoke, and your canines are as sharp as those of the dragon you ride; is it truly fair to taint him like such? 3) you were not raised to love tenderly; you had to train yourself, but in this stretched silence of months spent apart, you seem to have forgotten your own teachings, even if you know he deserves love-making. 4) you are so bad at rehabilitation, and he already has you weak on your knees to pray and beg for more of him; it’s dangerous, it may ruin you, and this may be how tragedies are written because you know that the gods like to make you lose things and people. 5) your eyes are green with hope and greed, and you’ll never have enough of him, you’ll want to live inside him like a beast in the walls of his cave, and this will be your undoing and his.)

ㅤ(his stomach retorted: i want his teeth, i want his nails, i want his bones, i want his tissues, i want his fibres, i want his blood, i want the sinews that bind him together. i want to hold him and strip him off the tones and textures of his skin; i want to bite his lips and fill his mouth with reasons why he should never leave and why he belongs with me; i want him to make my back bleed with maps of his despair; i want to burn him with my warmth and have him beg for more until all we know is that we are both flames mingling together, blue and red like candles are; i want to sink my hand in his wind-tossled hair and for him to forget how to breathe without me because i forgot who i am without him; i want us to bite each other as if we were starved worms under the earth, looking for nutrition in each other’s essences; i want to kiss his wounds and make flowers bloom from their crevices until he’s overtaken by the roots of my tree; i want to hold him until our ashes mingle in the roots of yggradasil; i need him, i want him, i need him, i love him, i want him, i need him. i love him, i love him, i love him.)

ㅤhe finally managed a rough breath, the words escaping him like a confession, and his heart replied to the rest of himself and to him: “you know the answer to that.” his voice was low, torn raw at the edges as the accusation laced with a relief so profound it bordered on pain; he refused to wait any longer. instead, he stepped forward and seized him by his throat, shoving him towards the stone wall and pinning him there. mouths met in a clash of ale and heat, the kiss messy and too desperate, teeth catching against lips, breath stolen like plunder, hunger shared through the pressing of bodies. his prince laughed into it—gods, he had the gall to laugh—and håkan bit down his shoulder in answer, just enough to draw a gasp and the faintest taste of blood to make him hum. the sound jack made in response stirred something primal in håkan’s spine. ‘you always know how to get under my skin’, he thought, not saying it. instead, he pressed his knee between jack’s legs, inviting himself to lodge between there, rolling his hips just enough to feel the answering tension, the eager pull.

ㅤ“you’ve been teasing me all night,” the höfðingi muttered into his mouth, voice hoarse, and jack’s lips would surely be bruised by how harsh his promised one was being and by how his growing beard now prickled him. håkan found that, just for tonight, he didn’t care. “you think i’m not going to make you pay for that?” he didn’t wait for a reply. they undressed in a blur of possessed motion—tunics over heads, belts hitting the floor, the chill air kissing skin that had been hidden too long. håkan pushed jack down onto the furs beside the fire, the warmth gilding the lean lines of his body in amber and anticipation. for a moment, håkan just looked at him; this man who had haunted his nights, who had always been more than hiccup knew how to name. jack, who he grew up playing in the snow with. jack, who hugged him through his grief. jack, who tasted like promised honey after a long day. jack, jack, jack.

ㅤ(i touch your mouth with my bruised and trembling thumb, i touch the corner of your lips with this thumb, and i’m caressing your bottom lip as if i’m sketching something, as if it’s the first time you opened your mouth this way, and i like to indulge myself that it is so that i may see you in all your first times. and all i have to do is close my eyes a little, to erase your mouth, to start this blueprint baldr has created all over again, and i sigh, thinking that every time i move my thumb i can make the mouth i want appear, the mouth which i long for, the mouth on your face. and i know, and i know, and i know, for i have entertained myself with the wonders of crazed plans and projects, i know this is the perfect mouth, and every time i think about mouths, and lips, and kisses, and grins, and love, it is you i am sketching. if art remembers its admirers, i want you to never forget me.)

ㅤhe dragged his hand down the curve of jack’s thigh, gripping hard enough to bruise, before sliding between his legs, watching him shift and open with ease, with need. he was already wet, made for him. gods above, how he loved him so. “fuck”, he muttered as if it was a prayer, and then, with a guttural sound that tore from his very core, a sound of pure, unadulterated longing that had been suppressed for too long, håkan moved, trembling and starving. his breath caught as he began to slide inside—the tip at first, letting him stretch, testing to see if jack remembered his shape. he did, he did, he did. jack’s fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails biting, mouth parted in something between a moan and a curse.

ㅤhe caught his lover’s breath between his teeth, spreading his legs wider while he fully sheathed himself inside in brute force, as if that was his right. and with his dick warm inside, he rasped, “fuuuck, i missed you,” eyes rolling as the words slipped out before he could stop them. they sounded too soft for the act, but they were true. his hips kept on thrusting, and he kept on biting, and he kept on eating, and he kept on scratching, and he kept on loving. he loved him so, so much. he wanted to fuck him until he unlearned how to say everything but his name.

[frystsnow]

WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU

im so amused, most of my best writing are just ns/fw replies. im so sorry to all of shipping partners, this is just who i am i guess 😔

[frystsnow]

❝uh, yeah! the wind, who else? you can’t expect me to ask for favors from them without something in return.❞ㅤwithout further biding,ㅤa gale billows around the winter spirit with the anticipation of being needed.ㅤalbeit too impassioned in its excitement.ㅤan unexpected draft surges in his direction with a force that nearly has his cloak swatting his face.ㅤ❝ack! okay okay wind, just hold on a second...❞

recovering from his stumble,ㅤjack casts a sideway glance to håkan with a meaningful look in wintry eyes,ㅤakin to a playful taunt.ㅤfree palm parallels on the side of his mouth to conceal his words from hiccup, ever conspiratorial with his first and best cohort in mischief.ㅤthe winter spirit takes in the ambience of crackling leaves and whispering snowflakes and does his best to respond in kind.ㅤwindspeak isn't a language he's quite accustomed to yet.ㅤthough lips pull into a smile of secretive amusement when the breeze relays him the near-matching breaths of håkan and toothless at a distance.ㅤit is not often the wind finds fondness for man.ㅤbut if anyone deserved its favor,ㅤhåkan's wanderlust for flight is as endless as the heavens itself.ㅤfreedom becomes him,ㅤand jack admires him deeply for it.

with a final giggle,ㅤjack’s arm drops to his side as his head lolls backwards.ㅤ❝right, dragon rider!❞ㅤhe declares in a tone that sounds suspiciously like a poor parroting of håkan’s voice.ㅤa grand spring of his step,ㅤuntil bare feet step above the snow and hovers over the berkians.ㅤ❝let us mount now. the skies have something in store for us!❞

whistling wind and seasalt air fills his lungs until the islands and ocean shrink behind them.ㅤin mere moments,ㅤthe trio leaves the earth behind with only the wordless wind as their lone witness.ㅤbeneath the white,ㅤbeyond the world,ㅤthe ether awaits them with familiar and welcoming arms.ㅤits vivid azure is a sight jack has notㅤ(ㅤand will neverㅤ)ㅤtire throughout the centuries past.ㅤa quick glimpse at håkan's breathtakingly awed expression reminds him of all the ways they are similar and how felicitous their friendship is after time spent invisible and alone.ㅤthe hollow in his chest throbs with a pang of affection that nearly throws jack off his momentum,ㅤthe sensation so much like flying and falling altogether.ㅤit isn't a bad feeling, jack concludes with a hand over his chest.

he doesn't realize that he'd fallen into his old habit of staring prolonged until the wind has to usher him in håkan's direction,ㅤhaving lagged behind amid his introspection.ㅤshaking off his embarrassment,ㅤjack refocuses onto the pair ahead and darts toward them with new speed.ㅤfrigid fingers clutch onto the dragon rider's shoulder to steady his landing. jack eases his body to perch on the dragon and settle behind his rider.ㅤpale lips hover just behind the shell of håkan's ear to ensure his words carry through,ㅤaware that he must contend with the whipping wind blanketing them.ㅤ❝those wings of yours ready, hicc?❞ㅤcold hand had drifted onto håkan's arm,ㅤan action he hadn't even been conscious of until he feels tunic instead of leather beneath his palm.ㅤsqueezing in quiet reassurance,ㅤjack leans forward to seek out forest green gaze and flashes him a wide smile.ㅤ❝so, the wind'll hold you up for as long as you need, even if the dragonfly starts to falter. you'll be able to study up on any kinks the wings have without worrying about falling even at this height, no sir!❞

but then the current bends.ㅤtoothless' head raises likely with an expression of surprise that must mirror jack's own.ㅤdid the wind just—❝that wasn't part of our... but, i guess it's safer that way, sure?❞ㅤdark brows furrow whilst seemingly staring into nothing as head cants to the side.ㅤthe wind flutters with a newfound excitement that jack doesn't understand.ㅤhis next words come slow.ㅤshy, even.ㅤ❝uh. the wind also said that they'll need you tethered to a source of magic, otherwise they won't be able to carry your weight. you'll, uh, have to hold my hand for this to work.❞

ㅤthey always stood a little too close, as if drawn together by something unseen: magnetism, gravity, or one of those other natural forces that physics and poetics tried to explain in the pages of books far too lengthy to be fully comprehended. their shoulders brushed in passing, voices mingled in the crisp air, and there were moments—fleeting, yet undeniable—where håkan forgot where he ended and jack began. that may be why this felt slightly different than other times.

ㅤthe almost-chief liked to think that he knew how to bargain, how to coax, how to understand and try to make others see his plea, too. often, he had to convince or nudge the lord-chief and the riders with other alternatives to their actions, and it hadn’t been rare for him and jack to go through the same process. but this was new, wasn’t it? how jack’s lips parted, just slightly, like he had caught a breath of something stuck in his throat. there was a flicker of softness in the depths of those blue eyes, and his grip tightened around his shepherd’s staff, knuckles whitening for a second or two. he hadn’t expected this. they had known each other for years by now, weathered winters together, argued over the best way to carve a wooden chest, fought side by side until their ribs ached with laughter and bruises. but he had never seen that reaction before. huh. interesting. maybe it was just his imagination? he liked it, nonetheless: his pulse quickened, curling somewhere in his stomach, a sense of swelling pride. surely from the lingering rush of adrenaline after tumbling into the snowdrift.

ㅤand here i was thinking you’re a fair diplomat. håkan grinned wider. he raised a finger in mock authority, puffing out his chest to make himself look larger as he deepened his voice, mimicking his father: “a chief must always know what his allies need,” he declared. then, dropping the act entirely, he threw up his hands in dramatic surrender, shaking his head as if jack’s poke had been a dagger to the ribs. laughter threatened to spill out of him. it was so easy to lose himself in these moments, to let the world shrink to just this: the teasing glint in his foxish visage, the way the tension in his shoulders slowly unwound, the way his breath curled into the space between the two of them. “i’ll buy you the best apples of the northern markets.” that, at least, was no exaggeration: the hersir knew where to find the reddest, sweetest ones. he would even bake something for jack as thanks for all his help, gods knew his forge experiments tended to go awry. ( and, perhaps, just perhaps, because hiccup enjoyed the way jack looked at him when he tasted something new—how wonder warmed his winter-blessed features, how joy and awe suited him so. håkan would never forget the stunned look on pale-moon’s face when jack first ate a honeyed fried apple. he wanted to see that smile again. )

ㅤazure’s gaze narrowed for a bit, expectant of something more, however. that reaction, håkan had learned its meaning well: the winter herald wasn’t the sort to accept half-measures. so the rider lifted his hands, palms open; a sign of honesty and his typical well-kept oaths. “and we will race later, too, i promise”, he added, tilting his head. “so, do we have a deal?” but then hiccup realised something… he blinked, as if making of what was just said a tad late. “w-wait, hang on, hang on, what do you mean, ask the wind?”