#valkyrie headers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artficlly · 6 days ago

Text

wolves at the gate [part one]

marvel viking / historical au jarl!bucky x jarl's daughter!reader

Your twin is dead. Your home is full of strangers. Now your father wants peace, and you are the price—married off to the Jarl Bucky, a man who is your sworn enemy.

Tags: 18+ content minors dni, arranged marriage, forced proximity, enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (in later parts), viking au, historical au, christian vs pagan, violence and death. grief, mourning, norse gods, mentions of witchcraft and magic, alcohol, arguing, bickering, no use of y/n, header does not represent reader's appearance, probably a lot of historical inaccuracy lol, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: hello! finally getting started on the winner of my 2k now 4k follower celebration poll! this was supposed to be a oneshot but i'm making it into a series. smaller word count than my usual stuff, just a bit easier for me to manage update wise. if you enjoy, please let me know! thank you to @azriona and @societyfolklore for the encouragement to post! thank you all so much. as always, sorry for any typos!

main masterlist | series masterlist

The last time you lit a candle at Freyja’s altar, the wind from the open doors snuffed it out. A bad omen, the Gythia said. But what of it? A daughter of war could expect no gentler fate.

The Ambarhof stood high above the Skjoldholt Hills, a great hall of timber and stone where the scent of pine and tallow filled the air, and the smoke of a thousand candles darkened the rafters. At its heart towered Freyja’s likeness, a goddess carved in stone, her sides worn smooth by the touch of countless hands, her base blackened by flame. You had knelt there often, in the hush of dawn, whispering prayers into the stillness. That morning, you’d watched your candle flicker once, then die, the smoke curling around the base of the stone like a serpent.

And yet, as the last coil of smoke rose to the roof beams, you felt it. As if some breath, carried on the wind from leagues away, had reached you. The final sigh of a soul untethering itself. Your fingers had gone stiff around the stub of wax, and a weight settled in your bones. A knowing. Something, no, someone had been lost.

It was only when the letter arrived, written hastily in your eldest brother’s hand, that you knew the full significance of that loss. Your twin, your other half—though you had not seen him in ten years—was gone. Slain not in battle, not with sword in hand or shield at his breast, but in his sleep. Murdered in his own hall beside the woman he had wed, a wife you had never met, in a village you had never set foot in. His people butchered, his home burned, his bones scattered to the crows. The armies of Saint Edran had seen to it that no glory would find him. No chance to fight, no chance for the Valkyries to come. Valhalla’s doors remained shut, and his spirit was left to wander, bound for the frozen halls of Hel.

There would be no burial mound to raise, no stone cairn to mark his rest. His body, like those of his folk, was lost behind enemy lines, deep in occupied land. Your brother, who once shared your cradle, your games, your secrets. Your brother, who had lived as a jarl in his own right, ruling his village, raising a family you never knew. A wife, children—all gone, as if they had never drawn a breath.

Your eldest brother’s instructions were clear. No matter what news arrived, you were forbidden to leave Ambarhof, to remain under the protection and guidance of the Shield-sisters of Freyja. The Saint’s armies were combing the countryside, killing any followers of the gods they stumbled upon. And yet blood called to blood, grief’s voice louder than any vow sworn.

So you would go, as duty called, to your father’s hall of Hrafnvik. To a home that was no longer your own.

—

Many had called your father mad, as they had his father before him. Madness, they said, ran in your blood—a curse whispered down the generations. Men who read prophecy in storms, who heard the gods in the cry of unseen ravens, who ruled by dreams instead of reason. A family touched by madness. A family that truly believed the Allfather himself had chosen them to rule.

But what was a ruler, if not a little mad? You had always been of the belief that any ruler needed a thread of madness in the tapestry of their life, the spirit of risk woven through every choice. A city wasn’t kept by sense alone. What was rule, if not a gamble? What was power, if not the courage to wager everything for a prize no man could see? The line of Hrafnvik, chosen by the Allfather, or maybe damned by him.

Hrafnvik was just as you’d left it, and nothing like it at all. As your horse carried you along the frozen road, the city materialised before you from the mists at the fjord’s edge. It crouched like some ancient beast at the mouth of the sea—the dark timber walls its teeth, the smoke and sting of the salt wind its breath, the glow of fires beyond its eyes.

As a child, you had believed Hrafnvik’s walls would always keep you safe, that your father’s ravens watched over every roof and every ship in the harbour. But now the city seemed smaller. The stake wall leaned with age, the docks, once so grand in your memory, were choked with too many ships. The city boiled with life, jarls and their men, horses stamping the muddy streets, banners whipping in the sea wind. Torches flared against the dark. Music clashed with argument. The stench of fish, roasting meats, wet fur and the sour tang of spilt ale thickened the night air. Smoke from a hundred fires hung low, as if the city itself struggled to breathe.

The gates stood open. That, more than anything, told you how dire things had become. Once, no man entered after nightfall without a challenge. Now the doors gaped wide, as if inviting the enemy directly into the belly of the beast. It was the type of confidence, the type of madness, only your father would have.

And then you saw it.

Banners lined the streets as thick as a forest, the raven of your father and brothers, Leif, Sven and Torvald. The bear of the west, the axe of the north. But they weren’t what drew your eye. The chill of the night seemed sharper. The snow fell heavier, clinging to your furs, to your hair, cloaking you in a creeping dread.

A swirl of pale cloth among the dark and bright banners. A wolf’s head, black and coiled, jaws gaping, teeth bared.

Vargheim.

The White Wolf’s banner flew within your father’s walls. The men of Vargheim, the enemies your blood had fought for generations, stood now as guests in Hrafnvik’s streets. The old feud meant nothing now. War had driven your father to open the gates to those he once vowed to see burned to ash.

You tried to see it as you had as a girl, the walls that once seemed unbreachable, the longhouse that once felt like the heart of the world, the docks where you’d watched your brothers sail with promises of plunder and glory. Instead, you were left with a sickening feeling in your gut.

A hundred jarls. A hundred banners. The White Wolf himself among your kin, at your hearth. For the first time, you wondered if the world itself was breaking apart. If peace were being forged here tonight, it would not come cheap. And whatever price was asked—you knew, deep in your bones—you would be a part of it.

You threaded your horse through Hrafnvik’s streets, the mud beneath half-frozen, slick with ice and filth. Around you, the city seethed like a storm hardly held back by the walls. A woman’s laughter, high and breathless, filled the night as she fled down the lane, skirts bunched in her fists. A drunken lover stumbled after her, boots slipping in the muck. The crowd roared with approval, like wolves howling at a kill.

Men leaned from doorways, watching you pass. Broad-shouldered, hard-eyed strangers with unfamiliar banners. Jomsvikings. Vikingr sworn to rival jarls. The occasional farmer or tradesman caught up in the storm. Even those whom you suspected to be hired hands lingered, wanderers and berserkers lured in by the promise of blood and silver. War attracted the worst of men, you had long known that. Their eyes followed you, heavy with hunger, with caution, as if unsure whether you were prize or threat.

And there, at the city’s heart, the longhouse loomed.

As tall as a ship’s mast—no, taller. It rose into the snow-hazed sky, a dark mass against the gloom like a ship run aground. The turf roof sagged under snow’s weight, icicles thick as a man’s wrist bristling from the eaves. Icewater dripped steadily, hissing as it struck the torches below. The great pine doors stood shut, barring out the night, like the longhouse itself mourned. No firelight leaked from within. No voices reached the street. The carved pillars at the threshold, once proud with painted ravens, were crusted with frost, their colours dulled beneath grime. Inside, you knew your father hid in the shadows, either consumed by grief or communing with the gods to conjure a plan of attack.

He had left the disorder to spill into the streets like guts from a split boar.

Everywhere, men drank as if they might not see the next dawn. Brawls poured from doorways, a bard shouting half a song before his breath was stolen with a punch, a young boy chased after a drove of loose pigs with a stick and a man folded over, vomiting up the contents of his stomach while a group nearby snickered and jeered. It was closer to a battlefield than a city, one of bruised pride and broken teeth. It seemed in your father’s absence, the people governed themselves with drink and fists.

It was chaos. Absolute, unbridled chaos.

It wasn’t hard to find your brothers. The tavern bled firelight and noise into the street, hunched low across from the longhouse. Its roof had been patched with hides, drooping under the packed snow, darkened by the belching smoke. Inside, men crowded so tightly that tables and chairs had been dragged out into the streets, dice clattering on tabletops as the drunken crowds shouted, sang and wept all at once. There they were, tucked away at one of the quieter tables on the street, hunched over greasy platters and spilt drink.

They looked smaller than you remembered, shoulders slumped under their furs. Worn by grief, or drink, or both. Older too, though of course they were older, you reminded yourself—you hadn’t seen them since you were a girl. They were sulking and grumbling between themselves in the low light. You searched yourself but couldn’t find a lick of sympathy. Pity, maybe. But never sympathy.

You swung down from your horse, boots splashing in the half-frozen muck, and crossed the street with the letter clutched tight in your hand. The tavern fell into a hush, even the drunkards holding their breath.

The parchment hit the table with a crack.

Sven and Torvald started like struck dogs, ale sloshing from their horns. Only Leif remained still, as if he had sensed your presence long before you entered the light. He refused to meet your eye.

“Well,” you hissed, your voice cutting the hush. “This is a pitiful sight, isn’t it?”

Sven squinted up at you, swaying in his seat with a crooked and loose grin on his face. His beard was a scruffy mess, clinging to his jaw and glistening with ale. He had filled out since boyhood—broader through the shoulders, the softness of youth long gone. He was only two years older than you, having barely passed into manhood the last time you saw him, but the glint of mischief in his eye was unchanged. “Either I’m very drunk,” he slurred, blinking as if to clear his vision, “or there is a ghost standing before us—”

He swayed, his elbow slipping in a puddle of ale, and for a moment, you thought he’d topple clean from the bench. Laughter bubbled in his throat, but it died as quickly as it came as Torvald shot him a look.

“That is our sister, you fool—” Torvald muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. His eyes raked over you, as if he too was debating if you were made of flesh or spirit. He was nearly identical to how you remembered him, though he sported a new scar through his brow. The sides of his head had been shaved down to reveal the ink across his scalp and neck, the little hair he had left tightly braided into a coil that reached his back. His fingers drummed the table, restless, as if searching for words.

And then Leif, as stern and abrupt as he had been in his letter.

He looked up at last, and for a beat, the breath froze in your throat. The firelight carved his features into shadow and flame, and in that moment, you saw your father’s face staring back at you. The set of the jaw, the weight in the eyes. He was the most well-groomed of the three, his wife was obviously ensuring he maintained appearances in line with his status as heir to Hrafnvik. His hair, darker than you remembered, was bound back with a leather cord, the knot tight, the strands clean and orderly. His beard was full, neatly kept, with no patch of stubble out of place. Even his posture, shoulders square, arms folded across his chest, made your gut twist. He had grown into the man your father had raised him to be. And for the first time, you wondered if you were a stranger at this table.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, and it scraped like a whetstone on steel. It held no warmth, no welcome, only the heavy weariness of a man who had run out of patience for surprises.

Sven gave a soft, hiccuping laugh that soured into a groan, rubbing his face with one calloused hand. “Gods, Leif, let her sit. She looks half-frozen. Or are we to stand on ceremony while the world burns?”

Torvald grunted, sliding a bench out with his boot.

You didn’t sit.

“My brother is dead,” you began, voice taut, “and you thought it best to inform me by note?”

You leaned in, knuckles whitening where they pressed against the table. Sven shifted with a loud gulp, edging away until his shoulder knocked into Torvald, who sat still but tense, his eyes flicking between you and Leif like a man awaiting the clash of swords. Leif, meanwhile, didn’t so much as blink. He stared at you, unmoved, as if trying to measure how much of the girl he once knew remained in the woman standing before him.

“You couldn’t have come yourself?” you demanded. “Or sent someone with enough spine to speak the words aloud?”

Leif’s jaw clenched, the muscle jumping along his cheek. His voice came quiet and composed, controlled, but only just. “I went against our father’s wishes by sending you that letter. I did you a favour, you should be grateful. I had hoped you were old and wise enough to understand that by now—”

“My brother,” you cut over him, louder now. “My twin brother is dead, and I’m to be grateful for a scrap of parchment?”

You saw the exact moment his composure shattered. The flare of disbelief quickly made way for anger. Leif surged to his feet, his palms slamming flat against the table with a dull thud that rattled the empty plates.

“Father didn’t want me to tell you at all!” Leif snapped, voice like thunder. “He feared you’d do exactly this, return home and cause a scene—”

“I’m not causing a scene—”

“You are causing a scene!” Leif roared, and you recoiled like you had been struck.

The tavern had gone deathly still. Tankards hung mid-air. Dice lay abandoned. Men turned in their seats, quiet now, their eyes gleaming from shadowed corners. The only sound was the low whistle of wind slipping through a crack in the eaves.

You straightened slowly, drawing your shoulders back, but the tremor lingered in your spine. Not far behind Leif sat a table of strangers, all crowded at the darkened edge of the alley. One of them, broad and silent in the half-light, watched you for a flicker of a moment. Then, just as quickly, he looked away.

You had a sudden creeping feeling that, despite you not knowing a single face in this tavern besides your brothers, all the men certainly now knew who you were.

It was Leif who caved first, voice softening, as if suddenly aware of the weight of unseen stares. “It is not safe for you to be here. You were safe back at Ambarhof with the Shield-sisters—”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Don’t tell me Father’s filled your ears with curses and tales of seiðr. Spare me.”

“I’m not speaking of witchcraft,” Leif ground out. “I’m speaking of the war.”

“The war?” you repeated, incredulous, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. You glanced at Sven and Torvald, hoping for a glimmer of sanity, but both looked away, suddenly very interested in their drinks, in the cracks on the table, in anything but the argument at hand.

You turned back to Leif. “Do you hear yourself? The war is everywhere. I watched the Saint’s armies march over the Skjoldholt Hills not two days past—”

“And you thought it wise to come here?” Leif asked, brows rising.

“The temple is no safer than the farmsteads. Or the forests. Or here.”

“She has a point, you know,” Sven muttered, slumping forward, but let out a small yelp as Torvald elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Leif exhaled through his nose and rubbed his brow. “But what is done is done.”

Leif said nothing more, but the lines of his face softened—not with warmth, but with fatigue. You could see the fight bleeding out of him. You stood there a moment longer, fists unclenching at your sides. For a brief heartbeat, you considered sitting, sinking down at the table with your brothers, just as you had when you were children crowded around the hearth.

Then Sven blinked at you, bleary-eyed through the haze of drink, and tilted his head. “Gods,” he muttered, a slow, stupid smile curling at his lips. “You do look exactly like mother—”

The table stilled, and within the blink of an eye, it was like Sven was suddenly sober enough to understand what he’d said, the horror blooming too late on his face.

Torvald muttered a curse under his breath before he hissed through his teeth. “Sven, enough—”

Leif didn’t speak. His eyes simply shut, slow and deliberate, as though the sight of you wounded him. His jaw tightened with a click.

You stood there, suddenly exposed, like you’d been flayed alive. Shame prickled across your cheeks. If it had been intended as a compliment, it had struck like an accusation.

Did you truly look like her?

It had been so long. And you had been so small… your memories of her were smoky, burnt at the edges. You remembered her scent like crushed herbs, the gentle weight of her hands threading through your hair, the low hum of lullabies sung in the old tongue.

But, there was a sharpness to those memories, it slipped beneath your ribs like a knife between bone. For every pleasant and sweet memory, there was a sourness. A knowing of what happened, of what she did.

Madness, they whispered. Madness of the Hrafnvik line.

It was one of the reasons your father sent you away, among others. Madness that he was so terrified you would inherit. Curses that he was so terrified would pull you into its grip if you remained in these lands. How hypocritical, you thought bitterly, that the only truly mad person in Hrafnvik was your father himself.

And yet you were the one to carry the guilt, and a part of you hated her for it. You hated how her choices clung to your name like rot, how, despite it all, you still loved her, even if she left you here, forever in her shadow.

None of your brothers dared look at you.

The moment was lost.

You cleared your throat. “Why are the White Wolf’s banners flying within our walls?”

The spell of silence was broken, and Torvald groaned low in his throat, dragging a hand down his face. Sven muttered something that might’ve been a drunken prayer to Odin, slumping forward until his forehead kissed the rim of his horn.

“Spare us,” he whispered, “just this one night…”

Leif had gone still in that unsettling way of his, like a hound scenting danger. His jaw was tight, and his eyes had narrowed to flint-edged slits. “I am not doing this here—”

You didn’t let him finish, nor did you cower. “And how many of our men, our kin, have they slain?”

A flicker of irritation passed through his eyes, and his nostrils flared. He answered like a man reciting a fact he’d had to say too many times. “We are all aware, trust me. But they have lost good men to the Christian armies, just like us. They wish to unite and destroy our common enemy.”

“And you chose to believe that?” You scoffed in disbelief. “You saw the wolves at our door, and just let them in?”

“Yes.”

Your breath caught at the simplicity of it. “And Father agreed to this?”

Leif gave a slow, bitter nod. “It was Father who had to persuade me.”

That knocked the breath from your lungs.

You stared at him and saw the strain in the corners of his mouth, the tightness in his knuckles where they gripped the table.

You stepped back like you’d been pushed, lips parting.

“Unbelievable,” you breathed. “Last I heard, he’d have rather cut off his own arm than side with the White Wolf—”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, unreadable flickering firelight. “Much had changed since you were last here, Sister.”

You stared at him, trying to see it, the shape of the years between you, the weight of battles he never wrote about. You swept your gaze over the table, unable to hold his stare any longer. Torvald still wouldn’t meet your gaze, and Sven was too busy drowning in his cup.

“And where is Father?”

Torvald snorted, leaning back in his seat with a grunt that was half irritation, half weariness.

“Communing with the gods,” he muttered. “Wished to be left in solitude.”

You let the words settle a beat too long, then gave a humourless smile.

“Well. The gods will have to wait, won’t they?”

---

hello! thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts! i no longer have a taglist. if you want to keep being notified of my updates please follow @artficlly-updates and turn on post notifications! <3

282 notes · View notes

yourlocalsmutwriter · 6 months ago

Text

Unsurvivable ride - Fernando Alonso x reader

Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of person who loved to boast. Sure, when he was young, he was cocky. Impressing female reporters with his card tricks or the fact that he could crack a walnut with his neck. A line that didn't make it to air was him saying, "So you don't need to worry about sitting on my face, I'm strong, I can take it, see?" right after. And even with "Fernando is faster than you," even with the "villain" comments in drive to survive, he wasn't prideful. He was just honest. You wouldn't see him flaunting his wealth or doing noveau rich stuff. Yacht aside, luxury cars aside. Yes, he had those things but didn't ever mention them or use them as props, the way some of the other drivers did. Fernando Alonso was the king of quiet luxury, old money. But, with every job came its little quirks. And in Nando's was the new car.

Don't get him wrong he loved the Valkyrie. It was truly a beautiful car. Fast, too. Perfect for him. But having to prep your shared Monaco living room for it was not fun. Fernando loved having pictures of you two around, the framed memories were a must-have. Whether it was in the tax paradise where most F1 drivers lived, in Spain, to even his garage. Everyone was seeing that Fernando was with you. It was almost funny to see new people guess the nature of your relationship. With you being closer in age to your 20s than your thirties, people assumed you were his relative, a cousin, or perhaps a sister. Some even thought you were his daughter. Then he pulled out the vacation pictures of himself, taking down your swimsuit with his teeth. That cleared up the fact that you were his girlfriend. All the pictures were gone for the day. Any magazines or books that didn't seem like they fit him. Your clothes that hung on the hooks, everything. Truth be told, now the living room looked white and sterile and, thus, perfect for a video. Fernando had to film, and it was fun. Driving around the streets of Monaco in this custom beast didn't suit him still. But he had to do it again and again. That was in his contract.

Despite him having to take it around all the time, you didn't get a chance to ride in it for a long time. Truth is, you avoided it. The two seater was way too fancy for your taste. You couldn't shake the sinking feeling that you'd scratch it just by opening the door or something. So you didn't even come near it. Took public transport or walked. Used the excuse of "I know it's Monaco, and people don't film you as much, but in this, they definitely will.". And that was literally the point. The Aston Martin marketing person called it a mere exposure theory. Show something to people enough, and they will remember it. Then something about the car creating organic word of mouth and this driving sales. Nando thought it was a little ridiculous that all he drove week in and week out was an Aston Martin. Especially after Brazil.

But duty called. And the word of Lawrence Stroll and co was law. So Nando took the Valkyrie out, again and again. Finally, he managed to get you in it. Seeing you in the Valkyrie did something to him. Maybe it was the triple header. Maybe it was you in a mini dress pressed up against him. With the seat belt between your perfect tits, he was a goner. Lord knows how he made it to the restaurant without slipping his fingers inside of you while driving with his left hand. It was a miracle. The fancy restaurant he had picked out had no vallet. Only an exclusive underground parking. Fernando got out of the car with a plan in mind. By the end of the night, your first ride in the Valkyrie was going to be a memorable one.

Everything went smoothly. Then it was time to go. Fernando put on an Oscar worthy performance of looking for his car keys. A pat down of his jeans, a scrunched up face, a low swear in Spanish. All the while, they sat snugley in his jacket pocket.

"I must have left them on the dash. The car, it has this app that lets you do certain functions remotely. Can you look after I've rolled down the window, doll." He asks. Sometimes, he loves how serviceable you are. Others would call you ditzy, but he knew that all you ever wanted was to be a good girl for him. So you didn't question why the Valkyrie's windows could be opened remotely. You assumed it had something to do with its confusing butterfly doors. Fernando rolls it down, and you twist your body inside. At his plea to "really look, make sure the keys aren't somewhere on the floor," your entire upper body is pretzled in. Leaving your ass to stick out. And that's when Nando strikes like a viper. The window moves up. Not enough to hurt you, but it is definitely enough to make you stuck. He unlocks and locks the car again to taunt you, to show you that he wants you there.

"Can I touch you, pretty girl?" He asks, but you can already feel his fingers near your bare legs. He's flipped up your skirt, completely exposing your underwear. As soon as you say yes, he traces the seams of it, enjoying how you get excited over that.

"Look at you, already getting wet for me. We'll have to be quick here, princess. Is that okay with you?" He asks, and he's happy when you practically beg for that. Truth is, he can't stand to tease you right now. He needs you like a fish needs water. Fernando wasted no time in taking off your panties and putting two fingers inside of you. He curls them and tries to get them to hit that spot inside of you. When he uses his other hand to rub your clit, you're a goner, clenching against him. But he doesn't stop.

"You got yours, doll. It's time for me to get mine." He says. Fernando's belt clangs on the concrete, his pants pooled against his ankles. He takes his fingers out of you, and you can hear a loud suck as you guess he puts them in his mouth. The same fingers wrap around his shaft as he guides himself inside of you. The position is driving you both crazy. You can feel his deeper than usual, and you can't squirm away from him. You're at his mercy, and he has none. He thrusts inside of you, almost bottoming out and then slides almost all the way out. He squeezes your ass and hips. Watches himself wreck your pretty weeping pussy with his cock. Feels you get tighter against him. Sees you cum and then clench against nothing as he pulls out. Wonders whether his cum might somehow damage the paint as he watches it on your thighs.

"There goes one incentive to keep driving this thing. Now I'll think of this every time I get in it." Fernando says, to see you squirm and tell him to shut up. Yep, he was gonna make you warm up to the Valkyrie, one way or another.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso drabble

191 notes · View notes

spideyns · 5 months ago

Text

nessian headers + jessica alexander icons

like if u save/use

20 notes · View notes

mmitsusora · 2 months ago

Text

ra*bits - valkyrie - knights headers 🧸

#enstars #tomoya mashiro #nazuna nito #mitsuru tenma #hajime shino #shu itsuki #mika kagehira #tsukasa suou #leo tsukinaga #izumi sena #ritsu sakuma #arashi narukami

88 notes · View notes

edelgard-more-like-baedelgard · 1 month ago

Note

I dont know who she is, would you like to infodump? (Regarding your new pfp and header)

Alright anon, I'm finally ready and I just have to warn you that you've brought this on youself <3

All those girls are from a game called Honkai Impact 3rd, which (ignoring the problems inherit in all games unfortunate enough to be gacha) has some of my favorite characters and one of my favorite video game stories EVER. Part 1 of the story, which features these girls, finished like... 3 years ago? And they have not released me from the brainworms for a single fucking second.

Pfp girl specifically is the main character of Honkai Impact, Kiana Kaslana. Now, the other 2 girls in my header with Kiana are just as heavily entwined with the story, but the purple haired girl, Sirin, is particularly Extremely Fucking Important to Kiana as a character and her whole backstory and character progression we see in-game so we WILL be talking about her specifically as well. However, due to Kiana being the main character and her story being so heavily entwined with 90% of the lore this also means I kinda have to explain big chunks of the game, so uh... have fun reading the massive essay I'm about to write lmao.

To start off, Honkai Impact is an AU of the real world where humanity is constantly under threat from an extradimensional force called "The Honkai" which can do everything from irradiate you in its base form of Honkai Energy, create Honkai Beast monsters to kill you, or create natural disasters (The Honkai canonically created the Black Plague in an effort to kill humanity in Honkai Impact's alternate history). Figuring out how to survive/eventually finally defeat whatever the Honkai throws at humanity next and the Honkai as a whole is the central conflict of the setting.

Now I'm gonna start with a general overview and then go into details from there.

Kiana

Enter: Kiana Kaslana.

At the point in the timeline the story starts, Kiana is an orphan who is training as a enhanced warrior called a "Valkyrie" with a secretive paramilitary group called Schicksal that is dedicated to responding to Honkai related threats. The principal of the school is a woman who knew her father and has promised to tell Kiana his wherabouts if she manages to complete her training AND get promoted to an A-Rank Valkyrie (The ranks don't particularly matter as far we're concerned with the wider lore but in the beginning this is particularly important for Kiana in her search for why her Dad abandoned her, even people in-universe question how good a system it actually is. All you need to know is they go D, C, B, A, S and A-Rank generally means "Powerful competent fighter" and S-Rank means "This person could challenge the strongest Honkai manifestations solo"). She starts very much your usual spunky hot-headed anime protagonist type girlie, constantly talking back to/ignoring authority figures, one of her very first scenes is her ignoring orders to instead run over to team up with her girlfriend one of our other main characters, Raiden Mei.

As the story moves forward and the larger plot begins to take shape around her, we see how despite this overconfident, carefree attitude she displays to everyone else, most of it is truly a front. A hurt girl who never knew her mom, was abandoned by her dad, and had to wander the world from ages 12-16 (until she met Mei) on her own searching for an answer to why she wasn't good enough for her dad to stick around. A hurt girl who desperately clings to the only thing her dad left her, which was the oath of the Kaslana family to defend the world from the Honkai even at the cost of their own lives, something which comes back to majorly bite her in the ass as it fuels her self-sacrifical tendencies to throw herself at danger believing she needs to try and save the world all on her own. Her relationship with Mei becomes a major part of her life, with her saving Mei's life after they met and both of them growing extremely close, and their relationship evolves and matures along with them.

Another major part of her early story arc is realising that she has the power of one of the Honkai's most powerful manifestations within her. That of a human-turned-demigod called a "Herrscher". And comes to see herself as the cause of the world's (and specifically her loved one's) misery after the Herrscher inside her takes control, causes a global disaster, and forces her to watch as the Herrscher fights and kills her teacher/mother figure Himeko Murata, but not before Himeko helped Kiana begin regaining control of her body. Over the next several arcs we see her go through suicidal depression (to the point of actually almost killing herself at one point) in the wake of her teacher's death, begin learning how to control her powers, and start to become suicidally self-sacrificial in an effort to redeem herself by saving the world on her own. Honestly you could probably get some pretty good detailed analysis from this part of her story about depression and how some people will find ways to hurt themselves that aren't the obvious things like cutting or starving themselves. Instead Kiana is going to use what little time she has left to be a hero even if it kills her faster. Even if it's obviously paining Mei with how much she loves and wants to protect Kiana.

One of the best story arcs in the game is when this all comes to a head. She's left her friends after regaining control of her body and been on the run for 4 months, she's helped stop a city from being destroyed by a Honkai radiation bomb at the cost of her own health, and due to how much Honkai energy that blast made her absorb, has travelled to the destroyed city where she first met Raiden Mei and her bff Bronya Zaychik to die alone. When it comes to Mei's importance to Kiana the writers spare no effort in making sure you know THEY ARE GAY. THEY ARE IN LOVE. In every way that won't get them censored by the CCP again (they already had to remove and change around some dialogue after being too blatant with the lesbianism, though they still kept in 1 line where someone does straight up call Mei Kiana's girlfriend). The way their characters entertwine with each other and the way their relationship grows is so so satisfying to watch.

Now needless to say, their relationship in the beginning while very sweet and extremely gay, was not the healthiest. Mei became extremely codependent on Kiana which was now conflicting with Kiana's insistence on sacrificing herself for the good of the world. A new antagonist that was introduced when Kiana saved that city from the Honkai gives Mei an out. A way to save Kiana from herself. I think this convo right here perfectly illustrates where they're at at this point and how Mei is getting pushed further and further to being willing to take an extreme option to stop Kiana:

So Mei takes this other option that could lead to a peaceful life for Kiana and this inevitably leads to conflict between the two and eventually a physical fight in one of the best boss sequences in the game from a story perspective imo, with a weakened and dying Kiana still desperately trying to stop a now much more powerful Herrscher of Thunder Mei from leaving her and Mei literally slicing apart flashbacks to how her and Kiana met and grew close that appear on screen. And also leads to this iconic line:

This whole event with the most important person in her life seemingly turning on her in order to stop her basically knocked some sense in Kiana. After the initial shock and depression passed, we get to spend several chapters watching Kiana learn to start relying on her friends and family more instead of trying to shoulder everything alone, and she is even able to save one of her close friends from sacrificing herself because "This is my mission" just like she was doing when Mei went to extreme lengths to stop her. She slowly begins to brighten up again. Now, of course she doesn't return to exactly how she was at the beginning of the game, but we see a return to a Kiana that smiles, cracks stupid jokes again, but also has moments of deep reflection where she shows she really has gained a deeper understanding of herself and how she had been hurting those around her with her self-sacrificing and has formed a more solid base for her philosophical beliefs and her goals. She becomes confident again, not just in herself but in her friends and family and their ability to overcome any obstacle together. And this includes Mei. During the culmination of this new arc, of watching Kiana come into her own and mature, of seeing her learn how to approach her goals of saving the world in a healthier way, she says several times that she's never held what happened against Mei. That she understands why she did what she did, and that if nothing else, it makes her still hold an unconditional trust in the woman even when others consider her a traitor.

They even have a sweet scene together when connected by their powers when Mei shows up to help Kiana reaffirming that they still want to support each other even if they can't fully have that reconcilliatory talk right here and now.

Kiana, as someone who has become a leader in humanity's fight against humanity, learned to shoulder these burdens with support rather than alone. As well as accepting her past and what that means for her moving forward, embracing the legacy her teacher left her and gaining even more power in THE best cinematic in the ENTIRE game, no shot, don't even question me. It brings together Kiana's entire character arc and besides being her learning to embrace what her power means as a hope for the future also draws multiple parallels between her and her teacher, Himeko as her fire powers are both literal as well as symbolic of how she's inherited Himeko's flame (i.e. her hope for Kiana and her trust in her student's ability to change the world).

As well as the symbolic nature of the way she uses her friends powers throughout the fight instead of only her own.

Her new form she gains is literally called the "Herrscher of Flamescion" which might be a rather obvious mashing together the Herrscher of Flame and "scion" but it does its job and she looks fuckin awesome while doing it.

If anyone says another cinematic is better than Everlasting Flames, they're fucking lying, the only thing that even comes close is Lament of the Fallen, the animation for Mei beating Kiana into the ground in a bout of lesbian angst.

Anyways, after that peak the writing kinda falls off imo but that's a whole other thing to talk about in a different post, I still mostly love all of Part 1. After this culmination of Kiana's entire story arc and finally reuniting with Mei, she takes it a step further and fights god alongside her girlfriend and best friend, finally achieving her goal of saving humanity from the Honkai by becoming the literal Goddess of the Honkai. Now, there's so much I could go into with just how much this probably fucks her up that in order to save humanity she has to shoulder being the only one to remain inhuman and seperated from them, but this is supposed to be In General so I will save it for later. The Goddess of Earth is where she stands today, after all those trials and tribulations and watching her grow every step of the way. Playing through the hours and hours of this game and watching this character development (alongside Mei and Bronya's own, I could do another entire essay like this just about Mei) Kiana is just so... idek how to put it in one word. Inspiring, I guess? To watch her go from the literal rock bottom of her life to gaining a circle of friends and family that give her the strength to take on the burden of being a lonely god. Honkai Impact quite literally ends with Kiana winning throug the power of friendship, but instead of making me cringe it has shot her up to one of my favorite characters of all time, because for the most part the writing in Honkai Impact is Pretty Fuckin Good and with how long you spend with her on this journey you get very attached.

Sirin

You see, one of the other major plot points of Honkai Impact is that the Honkai has an intelligence behind it that will every so often select a human with enough Honkai resistance and usually some animosity towards humanity to concentrate Honkai energy around and transform them into a "Herrscher". Now with Kiana I briefly mentioned this, how each Herrscher becomes basically a demigod capable of bending reality/breaking the laws of physics and each can generally do this in dangerous ways, but with Sirin we're gonna be going into more detail. Each Herrscher also has a specific specialty such as the 3rd Herrscher controlling electricity/lightning/electromagnetism or the 2nd Herrscher controlling "The Void", which manifests as her being able to open portals between two points and shift into other dimensions n shit, all that jazz, she's breaking the laws of space all over this bitch. Kiana's backstory specifically revolves around the 2nd Herrscher.

The Herrscher of the Void becomes an ever present antagonist for Kiana as her power is within her and the Herrscher begins to invade her dreams and tease her with bits of info about her past, her parents, how she was orphaned, until she drives Kiana to a point of mental spiralling that she can take over Kiana's body.

And here's where we talk about the purple-haired girl. Sirin. The Herrscher of the Void before Kiana ended up with her abilities. Her full story is told in a fucking EXCELLENT manga Mihoyo published called Second Eruption and I have read it multiple times at this point.

Sirin was also orphaned as a child. Though later we find out this was purposeful. You see, in order to further develop Honkai powered technology, including the implants that give Valkyries their enhanced abilities, Schicksal needed to experiment. Needed test subjects. And so children who had high Honkai resistance would mysteriously "disappear" or in Sirin's case, her mother would suddenly die of a mysterious illness so she could be taken in by Schicksal.

Schicksal then, of course, subjected all these orphans to horrifically painful experiments, injecting them with liquid Honkai and watching as it tore them apart from the inside so they could get more data on how it effects the human body until they died, which she shows to another one of Kiana's mentors, Theresa Apocalypse.

These events, of course, are what led to Sirin's deep seated anger and hatred towards humanity which led to the Honkai choosing her to be the next Herrscher.

Everything that comes after this is the named Second Eruption, as Sirin's awakening as a full Herrscher causes a massive spike in Honkai energy that manifests thousands of Honkai beasts and eventually kills most of Siberia's population due to the massive amounts of Honkai Radiation. Schicksal and their opposing faction called Anti-Entropy team up to fight back and this, including the First Herrscher, the Herrscher of Reason, who is also the first Herrscher to turn their back on the Honkai to help humanity instead. This manga also reveals that there is truly an intelligence behind the Honkai, with an entity they call the Will of Honkai guiding Sirin in her attempts to kill the Herrscher of Reason and wipe out humanity, an entity Sirin considers to be god, with her often calling herself a Holy Seraph or servant of God (there's a whole other conversation that can be had about how she was a child praying for salvation and the power to stop her suffering and the Will of Honkai used that spirituality to manipulate her into trading a physical cage for a metaphorical one). The Will of Honkai guides Sirin to four other dormant Herrscher cores on the moon, basically supercharging her, and Sirin puts a piece of these new powers into her friends' corpses, sort of resurrecting them as psuedo-Herrschers. While her dead friends each pick a city to decimate, Sirin starts chucking pieces of the moon at Earth and takes out several cities herself. To really hammer home how much damage she's causing, the manga even starts quoting the christian book of Revelation.

As for how all this relates to Kiana, well, for one thing both of her parents were involved in this. Siegfried Kaslana and Cecilia Shariac were both part of Schicksal and both deployed to Siberia to fight Sirin. Sirin stole a piece of another protagonist's power to create illusions and intended to trap both of them in a nightmare. However, instead, it looked at Sirin's true desires and instead created an illusion where the Honkai no longer existed, and the Kaslana family was all together and happy. Sirin was then pulled into it as Siegfried and Cecilia's daughter and Kiana's sister. This is probably one of the most important scenes in the entire manga because it's an encapsulation of everything Sirin's character is about.

A child who suffered horribly and lashed out at the world that had hurt her, but despite the pain she had inflicted in return, she was still just a young girl who- more than anything- wanted a peaceful life and a family that loved her.

And so she lets herself indulge, lets Cecilia take her clothes shopping, finally gets to just enjoy her childhood for a moment. Eventually her anger comes back and she lashes out once again, only to realise that Cecilia had never been tricked by the illusion and had known full well who Sirin was the entire time, yet still tried to treat her like her own daughter. It was through this moment that when Sirin was finally seriously wounded by Siegfried, Cecilia had used her own abilities to disperse the Honkai radiation around Siberia with her own blood to the point she would die soon, and the leader of Schicksal decided to bury Cecilia, Sirin, and everything that had happened with a barrage of Fission missiles, Cecilia hugged Sirin one last time and told her "I love you" in german. Ich liebe dich.

And now we circle back around to Kiana. Because the Kiana we know and play as in the story is not the real Kiana. You see, Sirin's Herrscher Core was damaged but still intact after everything was vaporised by the missiles. And so the Schicksal Overseer, Otto Apocalypse, took it and used it to create clones using the real Kiana Kaslana's and Sirin's DNA to make an artifical vessel because he wanted to utilise the power of the Herrscher of the Void for his own ends. And when he finally put the core into one of the clones after hundreds of failures one of them, K-423, achieved sentience.

This is the big twist of Kiana's character. Her consciousness isn't there by chance. Both her, and the Herrscher of the Void that fought her for control of their body are continuations of Sirin born from the Herrscher core in their body, with Kiana representing Sirin's desire for love, and her Herrscher of the Void persona being Sirin's continued hatred towards the world. This is also the reason Siegfried left her as a child. Siegfried turned on Schicksal for all the shit they'd done and attempted to steal Kiana away, however instead of his real daughter he got the Kiana clone with Sirin's core. He raised her for several years but eventually Sirin's hatred for him caused the Herrscher persona to awaken in a 12 year old Kiana. She promptly murdered a squad of Valkyries sent to take out Siegfried and recapture her, and Siegfried lost his left arm surpressing the Herrscher Persona. He then left Kiana by herself in order to avoid Sirin awakening again because of his presence.

For 25 chapters they struggle for control, and Kiana struggles to come to terms with the fact that she only existed to be a pawn, the being that her consciousness was derived from being the person that ruined the life of the real Kiana, wherever she was, and nearly destroyed the entire world twice, once while Kiana was stuck in her own mind only able to watch. It is in chapter 25, the same chapter the Everlasting Flames cinematic takes place at the end of, that she fully comes to terms with how she is tied to Sirin, how she doesn't have to let that past define her, but also how her goal to make the world a better place was now a promise to Sirin as well. The trials she overcame had also finally proven to the Herrscher of the Void persona that Kiana was capable of shouldering Sirin's memories and forging her own path, and she ceased fighting Kiana and allowed her uncontested control of the Herrscher of the Void's core (despite still not agreeing with Kiana's pov) before disappearing from her mind.

It is a very poignant moment, to finally have their conflict resolve through Kiana's view of Sirin going from hatred and considering her a monster that could only hurt people, to seeing Sirin for the hurt and traumatized child she had been and growing to sympathise with her instead despite their disagreement on how to handle humanity. And this then leads into the extremely fulfilling moment that is Everlasting Flames, which then leads into the bittersweetness of the girl who had been fighting for humanity, to have her own humanity acknowledged, to fulfill her promise to Himeko to give Earth's story a happy ending, becoming a lonely god. Trapped on the moon as she slowly siphons all Honkai energy off of Earth to finally give the people the peace she had fought for. Watching from afar while her family and friends make new lives for themselves without the Honkai, yet her life will now forever revolve around the Honkai, doomed to be an observer while everyone continues their growth without her. Sure they visit her and find ways to keep up communication with her, but it could never be the same as actually being there with them.

Tumblr won't let me put any more pics in this post but there's one moment that will always be stuck in my head forever, in the final cinematic of Part 1 called "Graduation Trip" showing Kiana walking through the peaceful life she's made for everyone with Mei until she steps away to assume the mantle of Herrscher of Finality, where she stares at her reflection, at the Herrscher of the Void looking back at her there, and asks if she has anything to say.

And instead of the usual disparaging comments, threats, or insults, Sirin tells her "You've done well."

The small smile Kiana has after those words carries sooooo much weight behind it it KILLS me every time I watch it.

Bianka

Last but not least there is the blonde girl in my header. Bianka "Durandal" Ataegina. I might keep this one a bit shorter because I can't add more pics and this post is already insanely long but she is too important to not say ANYTHING.

Long story short, Bianka is the real Kiana Kaslana after Otto kidnapped her, used her to make the clone Kiana we know as the MC, and wiped her memory before training her as a Schicksal Valkyrie under this new name she had chosen for herself. She was mentored by the Valkyrie who led the squad that was eventually killed by Sirin when attempting to apprehend Kiana and Siegfried. After this she formed herself into the model student, smart, attentive, extremely self-disciplined, the type of professional that people wonder why she has such a stick up her ass. She eventually became the youngest S-Rank Valkyrie in Schicksal history, choosing Durandal as her middle name after some inderdimensional shenanigans (there's lots of shit involving other dimensions and quantum physics in Honkai's story that I am NOT getting into here), which eventually becomes the name the public knows her by. By the time of the actual events of the game, Bianka is so strong she had become Schicksal's trump card plan against Herrschers as she was capable of 1v1-ing them without having any Herrscher powers herself. She's completely loyal to Otto for most of the game and as such becomes a bit of an antagonist for a little bit when she's sent to capture Kiana after she ran away following Himeko's death and clashed with Raiden Mei, who was also trying to bring Kiana back.

As the story progresses, the protagonists end up working with her at several points, but it's not until the final arc during the leadup to Kiana becoming Herrscher of Finality that events happen to confirm that she is the original Kiana. While the game could have done a lot better with how people react to this information, Bianka and Kiana do have a very sweet and emotional talk about themselves and this situation and eventually settle on considering each other sisters, Bianka not having any qualms with Kiana continuing on as Kiana Kaslana, as with her memory gone she has no real connection to the name, and prefers the legacy she has made for herself as Bianka Ataegina. It's at this point that white streaks of her original hair color start appearing in her Otto-modified blonde, which you might see around in fanart or official art/screenshots of her.

They also are able to both reunite with Siegfried, who readily accepts them both as his daughters, though Bianka is extremely awkwrd around him since she has no memory of him. It's with her family and her Totally Not Girlfriend Rita that we get to see through the professional facade and see Bianka acting much more like a loveable dork who can come off as a bit airheaded sometimes just like her sister when off the battlefield.

I'm not AS big on Durandal as I am Kiana and Sirin but I love them all v much. I think that's it for my way too long info dumping afgdaklghdskalghkljdasgask hopefully it's not too incoherent because I really am just rambling like I'm infodumping to someone standing next to me. I adore Kiana as a character and she will forever be one of my favorites of all time.

#las's asks #honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #kiana kaslana #Sirin #bianka ataegina #If any of this doens't make sense I just blame it on me being constantly exhausted recently #This is the longest fandom post I have ever done #Someone asked for a Kiana Kaslana understander and so I have Locked The Fuck In #I might not be the most eloquent autistic bitch in the world when trying to put these things into words but I did my best agfjdkslghdskjal #I PROBABLY could have talked about Mei's relationship with Kiana more but I was trying to not go on ANOTHER ramble just about Mei

15 notes · View notes