#assassin born from fire

[deerfour]

Assassin Born From Fire - Part One

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: Mention of behind held at gunpoint, torture, mention of death, trauma, blood, injuries, swearing

Summary: It's not easy to live a double life at a facility that wants to use you to get people killed when one part of you loves to, and the other one hates it.

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist: Here!

~~Part One~~

The only thing that made you terrified was yourself.

Not the way you were, or the way you looked, or the idea of you having the powers of a thousand suns, but the change. How you could go from being a terrified child to a killer without a warning.

It scared the shit out of you every time you woke up and the memories floated back to the surface to give you one more sleepless night. Every time a mission was being put your way, it often ended that way if it wasn't something simple. It was almost never something simple.

The thing that was even more terrifying was that there was absolute nothing you could do about it.

It was those changes that made you the ultimate weapon for others to use as their own, but at the same time it made you the weakest of all warriors. You could kill without thinking twice, or you could crumble to pieces. That was the reason why you never got out on a mission by yourself, why someone held you under constant guard at all times. There was not a point when someone wasn't watching every step you took, every decision you made or every breakdown you had.

You were never alone, but still felt lonely at all times.

Although that was the case not even torturing the scared part of you was enough to keep you doing the job. There was no part of you that could do such a thing. It didn't matter that they had handed you a gun, pointed at a man and ordered you to kill him. After hours of being beaten and left in the dark for not listening to orders you couldn't bring that side of you forward when you had control.

You couldn't do it.

You couldn't kill.

Your reality was a maze of emotions that you gladly avoided. Some days nothing made sense and you just wanted to escape everything, just for it to turn around on one foot and you changed completely. You wanted to prove a point that was hidden in the mist. There was a darkness inside that grew for every time you pulled yourself through a mission and succeeded. But, when the other side of you was triggered, everything fell back to zero.

The first times it had happened you had been curling into a ball, or singing silently to yourself in a corner. Those had been failed attempts to calm yourself down and take you back to the times of smiles and laughter to avoid the stern looks and the radiating pain. Other times you would stare into the wall in waiting for something to happen to get your mind thinking. That didn't happen way too often though. But as the years passed you got used to it. The guilt after every mission she had succeeded with because she never failed.

The scarred child had grown up to a woman that hadn't changed. You had learned, but never changed. You could never in your life kill someone, but you would follow all other orders. If it was going undercover and infiltrating a system, or if it was to interrogate a prisoner. You would do it. Torture someone for days, or weeks, to get them to follow orders that higher ranks had been given them. You would do it. Sit for hours and listen to the screams of children as they were being put into such trauma that most of them died. You could endure.

Everything but killing.

It was a weird thing. To, for a moment, feel like you were a good person that just did your job, that followed your orders. That was the way it had always been and there was no reason for it to change when you got older. But to suddenly turn into a killer that didn't think twice. That made your head spin and nausea hit you without a second thought. How could such a thing freak you out when you had fought agents of all kinds? How could a slight change in your own personality make you want to cry when you had endured so much the past years?

If they wanted someone dead, they needed the other half. The uncontrollable half. The half that could kill anyone at any point. The half that you were terrified of. The half that left you with pieces that you needed to pick up and put together as best you could on your own. The half that returned whenever she felt like it was her time to shine. The half that they loved, because she had no stopping her.

When she took over it was like everything was a game and nothing mattered but the killing and the chaos. To see things getting destroyed and blown up was like a party for that half. When people screamed because of pain she laughed and you remembered that feeling. To feel happy and delighted by someone's pain, and it hurts even more than watching three year old's being tested on. She loved to take over and show her face. But for you, it was terrifying.

They didn't care about you enough to help you endure the aftermath of being locked up with your own thoughts. The only thing they cared about was getting through with their plans that you only knew the third part of, and they were never clear what exactly was expected. To ask questions was properly handled with different methods, whether it was being starved or burnt from the inside or ripped apart by blades was always a surprise to not look forward to. Simple enough, they threw you into a cell after the killing was done, letting you sleep for a day or two before you were yourself again. When that was done you either spent weeks alone in the dark, trained with guards or were being handed missions that didn't require killing. That was until they needed her.

If they needed that other part they could trigger it in a matter of seconds, and they knew that there was a risk of them dying every time, but it was worth it. According to them. According to you? It was a nightmare.

A nightmare that never ended, and the only way to escape for just a little bit was to either let the destruction follow or follow orders. If none of those were possible you would ask for some time to train your skills under supervision. Sometimes you were lucky and got to train for as long as you wished, and other times you got nothing but spit in the face back. During the long winter nights in a stone cell, where your only roommates were blood puddles that weren't all yours and rats that sometimes crawled across your body during the night, you often found yourself in a thinking space that left you feeling empty.

Today was such a day.

You had been locked up for what seemed to be two days with only two cups of water and some bread to keep you occupied. Several times you had asked for the opportunity to go train, but had been neglected every time, no one cared to hear your plea. Even if you couldn't tell time, you were pretty sure it had been two days from what you heard of the change of guards outside. Every third hour they changed guards, that was something you had picked up during a meeting several years from now. With that information you were able to tell the time, at least some of the times. After hours of being drugged to sleep you had no idea how many days had passed by, and you could only make guesses. Same when you slept because you chose to. Guards always stood right outside. Keeping you looked over if a less pleasant part came into view.

The door screeched open, but you kept your eyes slightly closed when the light from the hall hit your face. You hugged your knees to keep the little warmth that you could gather as your head was leaned back against the wall behind you. Footsteps came closer, one person, carrying the usual weapons of a guard, which included both a gun and a taser for long distance and if an attacker got close enough. Even if you couldn't hear it you knew that the guard was holding a needle in one of his hands that he probably held behind his back. But you kept your eyes closed, knowing that it was just a guard. You had heard it enough times to pick up if something were to be different from the usual, and if it was you were always prepared. After years of training and discipline you could perform hand to hand combat with blind eyes.

It was easy to tell which ones were guards and who were directors. Mainly because directors always announced their presence to get everyone saluting them, but also because guards sounded more when they walked with their uniforms and weapons. Never have you heard an intruder who came long enough to get into the cells and escape alive. They simply couldn't. That was one thing you knew from trying to escape several times during your time spent in this prison of a home. Like the first time when you had--

A hand grabbed over your arm and you snapped your eyes open, meeting the guard's. His brown eyes were capturing, his jaw sharp and clenched from what it looked like and his blonde hair was slicked back over his head. You had never seen the guard before.

He had never met you either because he thought you were sleeping. As he jumped back in surprise you chuckled deep in your throat. You couldn't count how many times that had happened when new guards had been getting the mission to take you somewhere or deliver something to you. It always worked. That was the funny part. Two other guards from outside scrambled inside and picked you up from the floor, keeping you standing by grasping your arms. You knew both of them. One being the general for your department from what you had heard, and the other one of the usual with his sparkling blue eyes, making you think of water. That's why you called him Water-boy every time you got the chance, and the best part was how offended he looked when you mentioned your nickname for him. Their gloves left marks that would sit for a few hours after this, but it was nothing that hurt you anymore. You grinned from ear to ear.

Both of the guards had their weapons ready to be drawn, not knowing which part had woken up. The first guard stepped in front of you, staring down at you where you stood grinning like an idiot while biting your tongue, still thinking how you had scared him. How he had been ready for the other half to be the one he had approached, and the way he had almost dropped his face in the thought of meeting her without a weapon in hand. That was a show if anything. That actually might be the only thing you could like about that half, that everyone kept their distance and gave you space. That it was because of fear was more of an unpleasant detail, but it didn't matter to you anyways. You'd rather them to fear you than to underestimate you.

You let yourself memorize his face, just like you had done with everyone else. His nose that looked like it had been broken one too many times. Eyebrows plucked uneven, leaving the right one a little thicker than the other, just so slightly. The way his brown eyes turned serious the moment he stared down at you, trying to scare you with his stare.

This one was new. Interesting.

He looked at the two guards holding you and when they nodded for him to proceed he picked up a flashlight from his pocket. The new guard forcefully opened your right eye and put the light into your eye. It stung as usual, but it didn't hurt like it used to. Just as he stared into your eye you suddenly moved towards him and he jumped once more. He was tense in his entire body and it made you chuckle under your breath, the two guards beside you just holding tightly before motioning for the guard to continue. They didn't have all day standing here holding you in their arms when they had a whole facility to watch over. After he checked the other eye he nodded and both guards let go of you. Making you let out a sigh through your nose so they wouldn't hear it.

"You are very lucky today," the new guard spoke in a harsh tone.

"Is it my birthday or something?" you raised an eyebrow.

You actually didn't know when your birthday was, date or month or year was oblivious to you, but you knew that when the day came you got beaten. That was at least what they told you at the facility. 'It's your birthday today, you're very lucky', and then they kicked your ass without you being able to do anything about it. You had nothing else to believe, so you tried your best to count the days, see the temperature changes and maybe figure out at least a month. You had tried for nothing, because as the years passed you lost count on everything and all turned into a tornado that was too much of a battle to take care of for the moment.

One step at the time.

"Not that lucky," the guard from your left muttered, having been one of those who had delivered a yearly bruise over your eye.

"You're meeting with the head director. He has a mission for you," the first guard continued, ignoring the muttering from his coworker.

"Lucky me," you mumbled loud enough for the guards to hear the sarcasm covering your tone.

Water-boy glanced your way with a raised eyebrow, while the others just looked at you like you were insane. Even if it might be the case, you continued to stare down the newbie, making him feel as uneasy as you could by just being in your presence. The general was so used to seeing your gazes that he didn't even care about it, and instead sighed loudly at his time running away from him. New guard boy turned on the spot before one more of your comments entered the room, and he walked out into the dimly lit hallway. For a second you hesitated, but it was enough for the general to get impatient, so he grabbed your arm and launched you out into the corridor. If you only could fight back you would, but with your powers bound there was no use since the corridor outside was full with dozens of guards. You could never fight so many of them. Instead you followed the new guard and held your head high, not letting the fear invade your system.

The corridor's walls were covered with, not only guards that stared you down, but also doors made out of the thickest iron and steel in the world. Nothing could get through them. As you let your gaze travel over the doors you silently prayed to a god that had never heard you before that those inside of those doors would be freed from this prison some day. You knew perfectly well that there was someone behind each and everyone of those doors that divided the ranks at the facility. They were all different kinds of people, all from small children from this world to the next, and there were elders that had given up on their life but had no choice but to continue fighting. At first when you had arrived here you had thought you were all alone and the only one that knew of this pain, but when the night fell and you heard the cries of pain you knew you were incorrect. There were others. People who got treated just as bad, if not worse, than you. So, every time you get the chance you let your heart get dedicated to them; to somehow save them mentally. Their cries were nothing that bothered you anymore. You just slept through them, and tried your best to not think about how those screams would haunt you for the rest of your short life.

At the end of the corridor the guard locked it up with his green eyeball as a security code, and the door clicked open. You had seen this door unlocked a million times, but it still made your heart jump when you saw the halls beyond. They were a familiar place to you that wasn't special in any way, but the way the cold always seemed to linger there even during the winter gave you goosebumps. The corridors made out of stone and steel to keep you away from reality led through the facility to get to the administration offices. Just because they changed their appearance didn't mean that they gave you less creeps than before. Not only did the general and Water-boy walk at your sides but you were followed by nine guards that walked in unison. On your way there you tried your best not to think about what the mission could be, but you had your suspicions. At the end of the hall that turned left and right a few times that you didn't need to count, you reached three elevators that got you out from the dungeons. Following the new guard you got inside with five other guards that you had seen before at some point, one of them being a woman with an ugly scar that leaped from her forehead, through her eye and down to her chin. Making her blind in the right eye. Still, she fought with her other senses, which made her just as good as anyone else.

Your gut turned as you felt yourself going up, and even as it had happened so many times before you felt your knees buckle and if it hadn't been for the general and Water-boy you would've fallen to the floor. The walls in the elevator were made out of glass, which gave you the opportunity to look at the passing corridors. One being a familiar one. The way up you passed the medical bay where you could spot a man with an open wound screaming for help he didn't get. He had not been given any painkillers and you knew that he wouldn't be given anything any time soon. Either he would die by bleeding out, or he would die later by an infection. If he was strong he might survive a little longer, but from the way you could see his lungs from just a second of passing by made you realize that it would not happen. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, but it still aches in your chest, even if you keep staring without letting them know that the feelings are flattering around inside. They could never know your weakest point. That was a request for trouble, and them thinking that you were slowly turning into the warrior they desired.

A few floors upwards you came to the halls of the laboratories where you had spent hours strapped to a bed while they took blood from your veins. People in lab coats paused as they saw who was going up, and their eyes grew wide. Whatever that meant was their own business. You didn't care what they thought about you, or what the rumors said. That you were a killer was not a surprise, you just wished they could see the difference between a killer and a victim. So, when an old man that had been haunting your nights as a child saw you without giving away his fear you grinned. Nobody noticed the quick interaction between the two of you, but you knew that he was onboard with what you had just indicated. In a day or two he would ask for more tests being taken from you, but you didn't regret it.

As you, finally, got to the administration floor, which was way more sophisticated than the rest of the facility. It was weird how every part of the building looked so incredibly different, from the dungeon's gray stone walls to the plywood walls of the office where the only colors were wooden and black. It looked just as much as a prison as the one you were kept in. As the doors to the elevator opened the leading guard walked out, almost knocking straight into one of the workers that were currently holding a lot of papers in his arms. All of them fell to the floor, but as he was about to complain, you stepped out and he closed his mouth. Your mouth corners twitched as he began picking up his papers while his round glasses were sitting askew at the bridge of his nose, his black hair messy and the brown eyes keeping a target that was the floor. From what you could determine from his appearance he looked like he was in his forties, but of course you could not know for sure. If you were honest you knew that you were one of the best to identify people in the branch, and nobody could say anything else. There was a reason why you went undercover most of the ones the facility had in their grasp.

The guards didn't stop until you had taken thirty-five steps forward, made one left turn and then taken fourteen steps more. The newbie knocked on a big double door that opened just as he took a step back. You knew that inside stood two guards keeping the director under constant coverage to make sure that he was safe from enemies. From enemies that had become mine just as well as his. All of you stepped inside the grand office with bookshelves covering one of the walls, with at least a hundred copies, and the other wall had a fireplace with a pair of leather armchairs in front. The fire was lit and sparkled in your eyes as you let your gaze linger there for a moment, before facing the wooden desk in the middle of the room. A man, that you knew all too well, sat behind it reading through papers, not looking up as you approached. He eyed his papers, picking out a few to place on his left, while most of them were replaced in a drawer he had opened on his right. The head director didn't look up as you left the guards saluting to sit down in one of the black leather chairs before the desk.

"Leave us," he ordered, the guards thinking twice.

You were never left alone.

Not even for a moment, and definitely not with the head director in your grasp.

"Are you understanding English, general?" the man in a gray suit asked, still looking through his paper and writing a few things down in a notebook beside him.

"Ye- yes," the impatient guard that had been showing no signs of weakness just a moment ago, stammered.

"Then, what did I say?"

His voice was like a knife that cut through the air. A smirk crossed my lips as I gazed at the guard, which only made him gulp and open his mouth without any words leaving him. It was laughable. That little power that the director had of everyone, the power that was all that needed to be reminded about to make someone shake in fear. It was hilarious.

"You said 'leave us'," he reported, his gaze averting to yours once more and you saw the anger linger behind his dilated pupils.

"And who is following orders around here?"

"Me," he sighed. "But, she--"

"Will not hurt me. She knows better. I guess you checked her before bringing her up," he let his gaze rise to the guard, making him sweat.

"Yes, sir," he gulped before he signaled to the rest of the guards to leave you alone with the director.

You grinned at the newbie before he turned and walked after the rest of the guards that had already left the office. The ones that had been keeping the director under guard also left, making the office suddenly turn incredibly silent as the door closed behind them. You wanted to laugh at the way the general had been nervously picking around his collar as if he couldn't breath, but instead you turned around to face the director. The man with brown hair, that slowly turned gray as his suit from aging, stood up and began to walk around his desk. His eyes were locked with yours, but you just stared him down without a flinch even though you wanted to curl up in a corner.

"You are getting a new mission today. The most important one in your career."

Career, you wanted to mutter, but instead you kept your silence and leaned yourself backwards, putting your hands behind your head to keep him talking. Either this would end in a reasonable mission that could give you something in return, or it would be a one-time thing that wouldn't give you shit. One of your eyebrows got raised as he chuckled and sat down at the front of his desk before you. He knew that you wouldn't go along with any missions willingly if there was a killing part. Still, if that was the case he would just bring her out and she would burn the whole world, not caring about anything else than the flames. His eyes were a little narrowed from the chuckle, his arms crossed over his chest, and the wrinkles across his face slowly smoothed.

"We need you to go undercover for us, get us intel and then report back here. At the end of the deal, you'll kill the target."

"I won't kill."

You answered quicker than he thought you would, taking him aback, but only for a second before a smirk covered his thin lips. It was three simple words that didn't like being heard by anyone, but you said them nonetheless. You didn't care about what he thought about that one weakness. The weakness that forced him to bring out the messier part of you if he wanted something done. When you began telling him that you wouldn't kill for him he had been beating you personally, but as the years passed he let others do it. Every time there was a beating when you refused. He just waited for you to break enough for him to not have to make you do as you were told through violence. It took his time.

"I know that, believe me," he chuckled and looked you straight in the eyes, burning into your orbs. "But this is different. This mission is special for you and your work here."

"Continue," you spoke as he paused.

"Is it interest I'm hearing?"

"Impatience," you corrected him without moving a muscle.

"Very well then. You will not be having any guards watching over you this time."

"What?"

It didn't mean to sound like you were surprised, but you couldn't hide it in your voice. You cursed yourself mentally afterwards when you saw the cold smile that crept over his wrinkly face. Long ago you had learned that surprise was enough for your enemy to know weakness. The easiest way to bring someone down was to use surprise against them, and even if you knew this better than anyone, this made you still let your chin drop. He clicked his tongue to make this more dramatic than what it actually was. A minute ticked down that felt like an hour. Was he seriously letting you out on a mission on your own? Without any guards watching you from a distance to make sure that you didn't try to flee. This was something new. And that meant that there was a catch. There was always a catch when it came to the director.

"It's too risky. We can't have you being discovered, and people sneaking too close to the Avengers Compound will raise suspicion."

"Avengers Compound?"

You had heard about the Avengers on several occasions during your time in imprisonment. They were the thing that stood between the facility and getting full power, but taking them out had been shown to be harder than they had first thought. It seemed like a new idea had arised, and you didn't like the sound of that for some reason. Other than them being complete assholes to the organization, you knew that one of their heroes had been the Winter Soldier. One of the strongest warriors from the facility. Made into the ultimate weapon with mind control and a code to make him do anything. It had been an experiment that had been prepared to be done to others. You included. Sadly it never did.

"You will go undercover as an intern there, and find everything we want to know about their plans, and how much they know of us. You will be there for as long as needed, and we have found a place for you to live during your time there since coming back here every day might be a bit of a journey."

It sounded reasonable, but you didn't trust this yet. Something was not adding up to you. If you were just getting inside as an intern to find information, then why would you need to kill? There was no reason if the only thing he looked for was facts, because that was something you could gather easily.

"So, what do you say?" he asked as you stared at him, drowning in your thoughts.

You looked him in the eyes, knowing there was something he didn't say. Something he was hiding to make this mission easier, and hiding things that you might want to know was never a good idea. You would find the clues to his secrets and find out what he was keeping away from you to keep his ship sailing. Secrets were nothing you had ever appreciated. But at the same time this mission was the first one you would go out on your own. Something you had dreamed to be able to do since the first one you ever went to. After failure and successes you had never gotten this big of an opportunity, and that was something new, something that you wished for. To wish for things here was not a wise choice in life. But you had nothing to lose except for your life, and that was not much to keep protected in the first place. The freedom of being alone in the real world was calling your name, and it made the decision even harder to make.

"How will I report back here if I won't be seeing you any time soon?"

"Simple," the man spoke and got back to his side of the desk.

Phones would've been the easy answer, but they were traceable. The facility never worked with things that were traceable. Too risky. You leaned forwards with your elbows on your knees as you glanced his way. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small little metallic device that was round with an octopus on the top. You felt a chill run down your spine, but he still handed the device your way. Without thinking twice you took it from him. The metal felt cold in your warm hands as you looked at it while the man explained.

"You just simply push the button at the right side and you will call my office," as he said this you pushed the bottom and a similar looking device beeped at his desk. He placed his finger across the octopus and a hologram appeared over it showing your face and half your upper body, currently looking at something. It scared you seeing that face, making you gasp and throw the device across the desk. You could imagine him smiling, not reaching his eyes, but your gaze was trapped at the hologram.

The device landed before the man and he appeared on the other device as well, the one you were staring down. You gasped slightly at how detailed it was, showing all in such a close up that it was impossible to miss out on something. When you gazed back at the one you had been holding it now also showed a hologram, you. It showed both ways. You stood up from the chair and walked around the one that had been on his desk in the first place, but it still showed you. It was showing in all directions. Showing everything with a pulse and warmth to it.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and you felt a sting at the back of your neck.

"No, everything's fine. Who am I assigned to kill?"

He seemed surprised by the question, showing by his body stiffening a little bit, short enough for someone with an untrained eye to look through, but for you. It was clear that he thought you would actually do it. He should know better than that at this point in your deal. The thought of your freedom didn't make you spin that far away. You didn't kill, but followed all other orders without questions. That was the deal for you to keep this little part of yourself standing.

"Tony Stark."

"Iron Man?"

Even here you knew who the famous Tony Stark was. The richest man in all of the United States, might even be the whole world. You had just heard him during a few meetings during brief conversation, and at some point you had gotten your hands on a file about him that you just read the first page off.

"Yes, Iron Man. The one owning the Avengers Facility, or compound, or whatever they wanna call that stone block. I need him gone for my project to be complete. It's your mission to get him out of my way so I can continue without having to worry about him disturbing me."

He sounded bitter. Not focused on what you would say at the moment, giving you the perfect opportunity to slink in a simple question that you hoped wouldn't raise any suspicion.

"And what's your project?"

Somewhere you knew that you wouldn't get an answer to that question, but you still wanted him to tell you more. Maybe you could get him to crack what he was hiding, if only for a moment so that you could read his feelings. This game was being played well from his side, but you needed to win. For once, you needed to win to know if it was worth it.

If the freedom was worth it.

This might be the mission of your lifetime, just as he had spoken. You hated that truth, and you hoped for all your life that it was a lie, even if you knew that it wasn't. This would determine your whole future here. If it went well you would be treated with respect, and might even rise in the ranks for the first time in several years. There was also a possibility that you would fail the director, which would leave him with no choice but to put you down once again.

Just as he had done a million times before.

"Stupid question," he simply spoke before a burning pain ran through your body, before you got a moment to read anything from his body language.

From the randomness of the lightning that spread across your body you fell down to your knees, letting out a yelp in pain. You didn't mean for the sudden scream to erupt from within, but being unprepared for your blood being boiled from within, hurt more than you could remember. If you had been prepared you would've been able to hold in the screams for at least a minute before the tingling would've gotten to you. There was no way you could ignore the pain that pierced your skin when it came out of nowhere. It streamed up and down your body, thousands of nails biting at your skin, trying to poke a hole into it. Your hands turned into fists that you lost the feeling of first. The numbness traveling up your arms. Your screams echoed through the administration offices, but no one cared. The ones that bothered to stop for a moment didn't try to find you. There was never someone looking.

"Are you ready for the mission, assassin?"

The question was hard to hear when the only thing in your ears was beeps and crackling, and the burning of your own skin crawling across you, eating at your brain. Still, you could hear the words as if they were being told straight into your head. There was no way for you to handle the question and get up with an answer as your body twitched and you fell to the floor. Suddenly it stopped and you breathed for air, trying to collect yourself, and getting ready for one more zap. It didn't come. You were just laying there, defeated on the floor, and you tried to think through his question, but it had disappeared. If you didn't get up and said something he wanted to hear it would come back. Your skin burning in a way that you could never manage to do on your own.

So, instead of standing your ground to prove something that wasn't worth the time, you got up. You rose from the ground, slowly but surely as your body was harder to control. Being numb in your fingers, toes and calves made it impossible to get up completely on your feet. Instead, you looked up at him from beneath your hair that had been falling in your eyes. He had a smirk on his face, knowing that you would agree to this. You would follow through, even if you didn't kill him. You would find the information they needed and then they would let her escape. With heavy breaths you let your eyes gaze over to the hologram that showed a clear picture of the director that smirked your way. Knowing that he had defeated you once again, and that there was nothing you were going to do against it. Knowing this, you locked eyes with him through the hologram and let one word escape your lips.

"Always."

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[otaku553]

Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)

Here are the originals:

If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!

So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.

Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.

The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.

Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.

Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.

Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)

Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.

And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.

#one piece #spy x family crossover #sabo #monkey d luffy #portgas d ace #crossover #I have so many ideas for this au #I’ll probably write like a drabble series for it #maybe. if I get around to it #extra things: #Loid and sabo get paired on a nonzero number of missions as siblings #they are only 6 years apart in age and they’re both blond so WISE is like.. ‘it’s free real estate’ #every time this happens sabo finds a way to sneak into conversations that they’re actually cousins instead #this annoys loid a LOT because he thinks sabo can’t keep a cover to save his life. sabo is aware but he only has 2 brothers #and even in disguise he refuses to let someone else take ace and luffy’s place #ace’s codename within Garden is either ‘flame lily’ or ‘pyracantha’ #the latter being another name for the firethorn plant #yor has only heard of him in passing and has not met him in person before. but she knows that she is sent whenever he blunders and lets #someone see his face #Luffy is kind of just chilling! he takes a lot of part time jobs everywhere #to the point that loid is briefly worried that he’s a tail or stalker or something since he keeps seeing luffy around #Anya really loves playing with Luffy though because luffy has such vivid thoughts of the ocean and being a pirate #ok that’s it for now #I am very. brainrotting

[utterlyotterlyx]

ooo i have an idea

just something fluffy where reader loves hugging azriel because he always wraps his wings around her? maybe a little comfort fic after reader and az go on a rough mission together

Your wish is my command x

You Are My Shelter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - No one can comfort you like Azriel can, and after a mission goes wrong, you need him wrapped around you more than ever before.

Warnings - blood, injury, angst, lots of fluff and comfort, happy-ish ending

It wasn't a rare occurrence for you to accompany Azriel on the odd mission. He would never admit it, but you, his mate, was definitely his favourite partner.

You were quick and nimble, observant, and you held yourself with a feline prowess that had him awestruck each time he saw you prowling through a woodland or the bridge of rooftops clad in your matte black second skin and hugged and kissed ever single curve of your body.

Azriel may have been the Spymaster of the Night Court, the King of Shadow, but you were death incarnate, his Queen.

Though, he and your shared family saw a side to you that no enemy would ever be able to catch a glimpse of. Deep down, beneath that harsh exterior, you were the softest thing any of them had ever encountered, and as Azriel lingered back, watching you stalk along the rooftops of Windhaven, did he know that as soon as you reached the cabin that you called home, would you beg him to hold you, to wrap you up in his arms and furl his wings around your form.

It was your favourite thing in the world, your greatest comfort. Despite knowing of his largest than most wingspan and the certain benefits of it, there was nothing you loved more than to have his wings curl around you and block out all of the negativity of the world. As long as you were with Azriel, nothing bad could ever happen to you.

The situation hadn't been so different that night you had met him and your entire life had changed.

Azriel had been your target once upon a time, the one you had been sent to trail, to learn more about, and the moment you laid eyes on him, the tug you had felt in your soul for your entire life had become unbearable. The feeling didn't stop you from doing what you needed to, sauntering after him down the dark alleys where he stalked, sticking to the shadows of his shadows and going by unnoticed.

It was easy to tell how surprised he was by you the moment he had found himself pinned beneath your body, unable to move as could only watch as his shadows danced to the rich tone of your voice.

The infamous Shadowsinger had heard of you, the assassin whose reputation superseded his own, born in Autumn and the personal spy of Beron himself. Azriel should have been disgusted by you, but as your eyes connected and he saw that gentle fire spark within them, he knew that you had no other choice, no other option but to do what you did best. Kill. Azriel could sympathise with the notion.

Beron's assassin was his mate, and there was no way that he was ever going to let you fall back into the clutches of Autumn, he knew what Beron would do if he knew of the bond between you.

Fond eyes followed you, you could feel Azriel peering upward past the treeline as you hopped from beam to beam, not wavering for a single moment, even when he appeared behind you on that thatched rooftop.

"Don't throw me off of my game, Az," your voice was low and tinted with warning as it sang to him, and he had to reign his shadows in from dancing toward your melodic tone. They had a job to do too.

There was no way that you were going to refuse to stay cooped up in your cabin in Velaris whilst Azriel hunted the males who had took it upon themselves to continue to barbaric act of wing clipping.

Rain pattered against the wooden beams and thatched roofs, the gentle sound of it covering the sound of your cat-like movements as you searched every home, every clearing for a sign of those males, excited to tear them apart for even thinking that they could harm a female and get away with it.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," he purred softly to you, his blue siphons dimly glowing in the night, the rain plastering his hair to the sides of his face.

Azriel ran his callused fingers through his locks and looked to you, "You're extra cold today, my love," he motioned to you, namely to the mask you had put on that evening, a mask that even he found intimidating, so gods help anyone else that crossed you that night.

Damn him.

Twin blades idly twirled in your gloved fingers, you had unsheathed them from your thigh holsters the moment you had landed on the thatched shelter, just in case any Illyrian male was stupid enough to attempt to meet you there. Countless moments had gone by when Azriel had watched you take down men three times your height and build, you were as quick as the speed of light, your agility was something that even he couldn't stand against, and he loved you for it.

He had finally met his match and found his equal in one fell swoop.

The tight coronet that Nesta had styled for you glistened in the moonlight, two thin slices fell over your face and they whipped against the breeze as you turned to face him, "I'm just feeling extra broody today is all."

Azriel cocked his head to the side and smirked, too entranced by you to notice his shadows slithering up his legs and coiling around his thighs, "You're due on your cycle soon."

Your eyes narrowed and you took a single step toward him, the beam creaking under your weight but you didn't falter, you didn't wobble, your balance was pristine, "That has nothing to do with it."

Silly moments like that were what made you happy, how, even in the midst of a mission, he could still find ways to tease you and make you smile. Azriel opened his arms to you, his wings unfurling from the tucked back place behind his back, inviting you in, "Do you need a cuddle?"

You could never say no to that.

The resolve within you fractured and fell, and you wasted no time in sheathing your blades, shrugging innocently, you told him, "It would be rude to deny you the comfort."

"It really would."

Azriel was too focused on you, on your bright eyes and curled lips to notice his shadows darting about in warning, and he didn't realise until it was too late.

A metallic tang tinted the air, and you inhaled sharply, stumbling backward a couple of steps before your foot slipped and you were sent tumbling off the beam. Azriel dove off after you, he didn't waste a second, he saw the pain twist in your features, but he wasn't quick enough, and you landed on the ground with a sickening thud, a soft cry flew from your lips.

Arms were around you instantly, his fingers were flittering around the arrow that was burrowed into your shoulder and the nausea hit you like a horse as all of the fire within you vanished from your body. Footsteps thundered from all around you, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact direction of their origin as your world span.

Muffled words enveloped the world where you lay, "Get out of here, Az. They're coming."

Azriel knew it, he could hear their shouting and stalking footsteps, and he cursed himself and his siphons for meddling with you whilst you were so high up, so vulnerable to their arrows. Azriel had stolen your focus.

Faebane held a putrid scent, it had always made his nose burn and crinkle, he clasped your face in his hands, noting your weary eyes that were getting heavier by the second. The arrow was protruding from your shoulder and he could smell your blood mixed with the poison, there was a lot of it, you were loosing too much too fast.

"I'm not leaving you here," he hoisted you up in his arms, cooing soft apologies as you groaned in his embrace with every turn his shadows barked at him to take, half of them scouting ahead whilst the other half wrapped themselves around your wound, applying pressure and doing their best to keep you comfortable, "Eyes on me, Angel."

The sound of his desperate plea gave you enough strength to keep your eyes open, you fought the darkness as hard as you could until you felt the hope that you'd gotten far away enough for Azriel to stretch his wings and soar into the skies.

It was usually a thing you loved, flying with Azriel, he made any excuse he could to take you flying, just so that he could hold you close to him. Not like he needed any reason at all to touch you, but he would always find one.

You had never felt so weak, or so stupid, or so helpless in that moment. Azriel held you close, pleading at you to keep you pretty eyes open, to stay awake, and you tried, you really did, but it was too hard.

Only when Azriel landed in Velaris did your consciousness jolt, purely due to the sound of his roaring voice shouting for Rhys who had appeared moments later with Madja in tow, commanding Azriel to place you onto the bare table thanks to Nesta's quick sweep that sent an array of plates and glasses crashing to the floor.

Sickly paleness clung to your skin, sweat coated your brow and you were shivering so violently that your teeth were rattling in your mouth, and your gaze shifted to Madja whilst Azriel told Rhys, Nesta, and a newly appeared Cassian what had happened with a strained voice.

"Is she going to be alright, Madja?" Rhys' voice echoed, he felt so far away, but from the stoic hand he had rested on your forehead, you knew he was much closer than you thought.

Madja was silent for a moment, her lips were tight as she pulled the arrow from your torn flesh, sympathy flashing in her eyes at the powerful cry that she had pulled from your lips, "She's lost a lot of blood," that much was clear from the red coating the tabletop, "But she'll be fine," Azriel was by your side, releasing a breath he didn't realise he was holding, pressing his lips to your hairline and stroking the matted hair away from your face.

Gauze become embedded into the wound, coated in a healing tonic that made you hiss and trash in Azriel's grip when it touched the gaping hole in your shoulder, and Madja worked as softly as she could as she wrapped thick white bandages around it. Madja left with strict instructions.

Rest. Fluids. Comfort.

Rhys hadn't even finished thanking her before he saw Azriel cradle you in his arms from the corner of his eye and whisk you to the room you two had shared before you had moved to your little cabin in the woods.

He had never been as gentle with anyone like he had been with you, you placed you onto the bed like a feather, pressing a cold cloth to your forehead to cool you down and rid your brow of sweat before he peeled his own clothes from his body and fell into the comfort beside you.

Weakly, you reached for him with trembling fingers, wincing as he pulled you into the position he knew that you needed. Head on his chest so that you could listen to his heartbeat which was racing in that moment, with your fingers tracing serene circles into the muscles of his pecs as his own hands wound around you, his wings drooping over your frame and binding you in their warmth and protection.

"I'm so sorry," he voice was wounded, strained with guilt, his fingers found the back of your neck and he worked slowly to unpin the coronet Nesta had styled for you, dropping the pins to the floor and unwinding the braids as you sighed softly at the tightness diminishing.

A hoarse hum rumbled at your lips, "It's okay, Az," you shivered again and he pulled you in tighter, being careful not to cause you any pain, and his wings curled tighter around your frame, waves of warmth seeped into you and your relaxed, "I'm here, I'm okay," your voice was a hush above a whisper, laced with exhaustion.

"I love you so much," his shadows grazed over your skin, and for a moment you believed that Azriel's hands were roaming over you, but they weren't, it was his shadows waving across every inch of you that they could, soothing you, cooing to you, "Go to sleep, Angel. I'll be here when you wake up, and we can spend all day like this tomorrow. How does that sound?"

The smile that graced your lips was peaceful, your lips parted to answer and Azriel waited, but when soft snores filled the room, all he could do was rake his fingers through your hair and swear to himself that he would never dare to put you in such danger ever again.

Author's Note

Just a little post-work drabble for you all x

#acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #rhysand #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #rhys acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar drabble #azriel fluff #azriel angst #nesta #cassian

[quotidian-oblivion]

How I picture Leon finds out that Merlin has magic:

Merlin was tired.

Not because of the abundance of chores and the fatigue that came from running around after yet another assassin, but because he hadn't used his magic at all for the past month. Yes, even with the presence of the assassin. Gwaine had fortunately been there to knock the guy out and throw him in the dungeons, catching him red-handed.

He had been trying to stay as cautious as possible, which was why he hadn't used magic in such a long time.

But the fact was - Merlin was born with magic. It was as natural as breathing to him. So when he didn't use magic for an extended period of time, he would get tired.

He needed to use magic. Just a small bit.

He would do it in the safety of his room, but he was currently carrying Arthur's armor to his chambers from the training field and it was heavy and he was so so tired and- well, it would only be a small spell.

He put the armor down, checked that no one was around, then held up a palm. His eyes flashed gold and a small fire appeared on top of it.

Just because he had missed his magic, he flashed his eyes gold and made the flame morph into a butterfly. He smiled as it slowly flapped its wings, staying on Merlin's palm.

Then Merlin heard a gasp and he snapped his head to the newcomer.

The thing about knights was that they were trained to be as quiet as possible even in armor. It was required for certain missions as well as hunting. But armor was impossible to be quiet, so Merlin, having spent a significant amount of time with them, had trained himself to automatically hear when they were approaching. And since they were always in their armor anyway, even sleeping in it sometimes, he had relied on that to alert him of anyone crossing the hallway.

After all, anyone else - servants and nobles alike - wouldn't bother quieting their footsteps while walking.

If they did, it would be because of malicious intent so it wouldn't matter if they saw Merlin or not.

But occasionally - very very occassionally - knights walked around without their armor.

That, combined with their light footsteps and silent movements, had caught Merlin unaware.

So when he snapped his head over to look at Leon staring with wide eyes at the butterfly made of flame in his hand, Merlin was surprised. More than that, he was afraid.

The two of them froze, with Leon's gaze on the fire butterfly and Merlin's on Leon, standing rigidly like deers caught in the wild.

Then Leon raised his eyes from the butterfly to Merlin, then back to the butterfly, then back to Merlin again-

Before he spun on his heel and walked the other way whistling jovially like he hadn't seen anything.

Merlin was still frozen like a deer. He didn't move until several minutes later when he did hear armor clinking against each other. That was when he got rid of the butterfly and hefted the armor up, walking back to his room, leaving Arthur's armor in favor of panicking.

~

When Merlin met Leon in the armory that evening, he tried to approach him. Leon, recognizing what Merlin was trying to do, let him, moving into a secluded changing room far from the armory with the other knights and squires and pages.

Leon nodded at Merlin in greeting when Merlin closed the door.

"Leon," Merlin started. "What you saw-"

"That you were shirking Arthur's chores? No worries. I didn't give you away before, I won't do so now."

Merlin blinked. "What?"

Leon sighed. "Look, Merlin. I don't get paid enough, even as a knight. Not with all those missions and calamities that keep getting Arthur into trouble. So I refuse to deal with anything above my paygrade. Even you avoiding chores."

Merlin blinked again.

Leon clapped a hand on his shoulder, and with a smile, left the room.

Merlin looked after the knight, wondering for the first time, exactly how many times the knight had committed or aided or turned a blind eye against treason for him to be this casual about it.

#Mhgmgmhmgmghm not sure #but i wanted to write #quotidian writes #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin's magic reveal #merlin's magic #merlin emrys #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #leon #sir leon #bbc leon #leon bbc #knights of the round table #merlin #merlin tv #bbcm #arthur pendragon

[battymommastuff]

Revenge... (Final Part) (GRAPHIC)

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Batmom and Jason did what needed to be done...

Part 1 Part 2

How far had you fallen? From the sight you and your second oldest left for Gotham City left the broken city divided in half.

Too far...

or not far enough...

That sight? Joker's corpse lying on the Bat-Signal. That sick, and sadistic grin still on his face. It made you sick to see it, but you were satisfied that he was gone, "It doesn't fix it. That bitterness I feel." You said as you watched the GCPD conduct their investigation from a nearby building. You didn't know if Batman was lurking about. Was he too scared to face you? Or was he just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce?

"It'll never go away. Trust me, Mom. You're taking that to the grave." Jason said coldly as he polished one of his guns. The other was tucked safetly in your belt. One bullet had been fired from each gun. One shot for Jason's revenge, and one for yours. Was it poor form to take him out while he was in a coma? Sure, but it was much more satisfying than pulling a plug.

Jason's bitterness was ever growing. When his eyes first opened, he was floating in a green pool surrounded by the League of Assassin's. Once his memory returned, the seed that was already planted before his death began to grow. That seed kept growing, and growing once he learned of your fate after his death. How did he find out? He had to listen to Talia praise you without seeming affected. She was proud of you for avenging something so precious to you. Then she turned around, and degraded you for allowing yourself to be throwing in the Asylum.

That didn't matter now, you were free. The Joker was finally gone. The disgusting, smog filled air seemed lighter now that he was gone.

Meanwhile...

Bruce sat in front of the batcomputer. The biggest image on the screen was of your face. The last image of you before you left the Asylum. That cold gaze with the evil smirk. He knew what that meant...he's seen that gaze several times throughout his vigilante life.

You were coming for him. His wife died the night he carried Jason's dead body into the cave. Something else was born, and grew within the walls of the Asylum. Now you were coming for him. He couldn't fight you. You were the love of his life. His reason for breathing, and yet...he made the biggest mistake of his life. Bruce changed the image from you to the one of Joker's corpse. The scars from your vicious beating paired with the two bullet holes. One in his heart, and the other between his eyes. He couldn't blame anyone, but himself for this.

Now he has to prepare for the hell you and Jason are about to unleash upon Gotham's Underground. No villain or evil doer was safe now. He couldn't stop you, and he knew you would never let him hurt Jason. He created two monsters, when it was so easy to prevent it.

Gotham was going to burn, and you were going to be the one holding the matches.

@igotanidea @rosalindatheog @khaylin27 @zbeez-outlet @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth @emily-roberts @grandstrangerphantom @oilyb1tch @kurxxmi @rl800 @dtsyoongs @viperbaroness @lovepity @avitute @bitchyexpertprincess @amieliaine

#batman #batmom #batmom imagines #damian wayne x reader #dc comics #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd x batmom #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #red hood #robin #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batman x reader #batdad #batfamily #nightwing

[gxthicwxrm]

Hi! Saw you were looking for hotd requests.

How about arranged marriage au with Daemon x fem!reader. They have 1 or more kids but Daemon doesn't seem to like her. After an attack on her and the kids (she's a trained assassin/warrior), he realizes how much she does for them. Maybe she goes unconscious for a few days and Daemon has to look after the kids.

Ignore this if you don't want to do it! But thanks and have a good day!

Hello! I am so sorry for the late reply!! I did a few changes, I hope you don't mind. I plan to use this prompt for Aemomd and Aegon as well. However I hope you enjoy!!

Fire Like A Targaryen

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Wife!reader

Warning: blood, assault, mentions of rape and murder, angst

Word Count: 1,907

Masterlist - Part Two

---

You drums you fingers against your swollen belly, feeling little feet meeting the flesh beneath your hands. "Hello, my little love." You hum to the unborn baby that dances in your stomach while the baby's father disappears somewhere, surely his doting niece following closely behind. 

You have been married to Daemon long enough to know the feelings he has for his niece, even if he doesn't realize himself. His neglect of husbandry duties always increased as we spent time in King's Landing, nearing the Princess of Dragonstone. However, you didn't blame your husband's inability to love you, on the Princess or even her lover. Sometimes people just don't love each other.

Giving up long ago for his affection, you decided to make the best of your time with simple pleasures: reading in the garden, learning to cook with the maidens, painting with the richest of colors. Quickly, you adapted to the riches of the Targaryen's royalty which dulled the ache you felt for her husband. 

The night of the wedding, the pair never consummated the marriage, it left you feeling like a pawn in a game. He stumbled in drunk, tripping over his feet before dragging himself up the bed, practically crawling towards you. Unable to deny your growing love for this mess of a man, you reached your hand out and guided him towards yourself. 

Slowly, he looked up at you before clasping your cheeks in his hands, pressing his cold lips against your warm ones. Hungrily, his hands fly to your sides and pull you against his bare chest. Moaning into your kiss, both sets of hands begin exploring each other. For once, you felt at home, like this was how the two of you were supposed to be, together. However, your bliss died when his lips whispered one that was far from your own.

"Oh, Rhaenyra!" He mumbles into the flesh of your neck, leaving little bruises training down your chest as he moves towards your breast. His words crash around in your head as you lay beneath Daemon who finishes and falls asleep beside you, wordlessly.

Despite the pain of that night, you gained motherhood. Daemon was happy to be a father, scared but happy. He never told you, but you could tell when he'd ghost his hand over your bump or give you an extra piece of bread with dinner. He even held your hand during the birth of your daughter, Alysannne.  He may not love you, but he loves his child. Although, a small part of you wished this child would make him love you. You were naive to think Daemon would ever love you.

But, years have passed since your daughter was born. Alys is five, running around her father as he brushes Caraxes in the Dragonpit. 

"Mommy!" Her tiny voice echoes on the stone walls once she sees you walking towards herself and her father. Looking up, Daemon's eyes meet yours, offering a small smile before turning back to the huffing Caraxes. 

"Hello, my little one. What are you doing out here? Look at you, you are all dirty!" You pick at your daughter's ripped gown, covered in soot. 

"We were playing with Caraxes! Daddy said he'd let me fly with him!!" The little girl runs between her parents and the Blood Wyrm, kissing the dragon's cheek as she pets him. 

"Well, she is her father's daughter." Daemon chuckles, putting his hand on the small of your back as Alys dances around in front of you, twirling her ruined skirt. Affection from him was no longer rare but quick. His thumb caresses the exposed skin of your back, soothing the pain of carrying a child. His unused hand finds itself cupping your belly.

"How has he been treating you, today?" Daemon's smooth voice steals your attention from the girl before you. Looking down at his hands, you rest yours beside his but he moves, so his fingers are right over yours.

"He's been good. Hasn't been kicking me a ridiculous amount which is a new change of pace." Your attempt at a joke brings a smile to your husband's face who kneels down before you and kisses your clothed belly, much to your surprise.

"Be good for your mother. Cherish her, my little Dragon." He whispers, but you were still able to here his words. Standing back up, he cups your face.

"I'm going to take Alys flying before she makes Caraxes eat me. He listens to her more and more these days." With a peck on your cheek, he's running towards his daughter and his dragon. 

"Don't forget Alysanne needs to bathe before dinner with your brother. She may be a dragon but she will not smell like one." You call them, laughing at your own words. 

"Yes ma'am." Daemon smiles at you before telling Caraxes to fly,just streaks of red melding into the blue sky above. 

Waiting for your family, you sit in your chambers, rubbing oils on your stretched belly while the water for Alysanne is being gathered by your maids.

Grabbing a book from Daemon's bedside table, you absently flip through the pages; glimpses of words and stories fly by along with the pages.

A creak of the door alerts you, bring you to your feet as you cover your stomach with the slits of your gown.

"Mommy! We flew so high!" Alysanne pushed the door open enough to slide between the wood, running to her mother's side, a severant boy coming in behind her with two buckets of hot water. Alysanne leans into your side as you take in the dirt covering her face.

"Oh, my little girl, what did they do to you? Did they roast you?" You giggle, tickling at her sides. The servant moved slowly beside you as he filled the white tub.

"No, I roasted them, mwah ha ha." She laughs, stomping and pretending to breathe fire as she runs around you in circles.

"Okay my dragon rider. It's time to bathe. Come on." She taps her daughter's shoulders, moving her towards the steaming bath. Looking towards the lingering servant, Y/N felt bad dismissing him but was cautious why he was staying so long.

"Thank you, sir. Your kindness won't be forgotten." You turn towards your child and still feeling the man in your room, pull the curtain around the tub closed, canceling your still clothed daughter. She was eerie of this man in their room, unsure what to think of him.

Slowly, he straightens to look you in the eye, a cold shiver runs through your body as you see the glint of a dagger in his hand. 

"No! Guards! Daemon!" You shout as the man lunges, knife pointed towards your belly. The man kept coming at you, backing you in the furthest corner away from your daughter, who peeked from the curtain. Moving to run around him, his arm grabbed you by the stomach and shoved you down. Flying backward, your head hits the ground, a loud crack echoing through your mind as you look around for a weapon. The man is stalking you while you try to move toward the bed across you. You knew Daemon kept a dagger under the left-hand side of the mattress. If you could just get to it, you could save your children's lives.

The sound of glass breaking stops you and your attacker, both looking toward the direction of the crash. The tub. 

A fear like no other took over you as the man started towards your daughter's hiding spot. Reaching for his legs, you try to pull him down, screaming but to no avail as he kicks you. One landing in your swollen belly, making black dots cloud your vision. Wetness trickles down the side of your face, but you keep dragging yourself behind this man, desperate to stop him from hurting your child. 

Using the table nearest, you pull yourself up and grab Daemon's letter opener. This man would not leave this room alive; you'd make sure of it even if you died trying. The man throws open the curtain but pauses. Creeping behind him, you see Alysanne isn't behind the curtain anymore. 

"Where is she?" The man asked himself. He turns, locking eyes with you before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you to your knees. "I said," Where is she? You dumb bitch!" He goes to smack you but stops as you shove the letter opener into his hand. Letting you go, you drop back down before dragging yourself to your feet.

"You fucking cunt! I was going to let it be quick, but now you will watch me rape your little girl and slit her throat before I do the same to you." He spits, pulling the blade from his hand and coming at you. His words once would've made you cower and hide, but now light you up like a flame. A fire burned in you to keep going and fighting despite the pain radiating over your body.

"You won't lay a finger on her. Over my dead body." You knew this would be a fight you'd lose. You have no weapons, training, or husband to protect you. It was up to you to protect these children, and you would do it even if it killed you. The Man grabs at you again, but you slap, scratch, and claw at his face this time. His hands find their way around your throat while yours dig into his eyes, a gut-wrenching scream comes from the man as he yanks away from you, but you don't stop. Lunging at him, you push his body against the tub, hitting his head before you wail on his chest, tears flowing down your face as the man beneath you go limp.

A scream of frustration leaves your throat raw as the adrenaline leaves your body. 

"Alysanne? It's okay to come out now, darling. It's okay." Your thoughts cleared. Where is your daughter? Stumbling off the man, you pull yourself up and turn, trying to find your daughter, when suddenly she slides from under the bed, rushing to your side. 

"M-mommy! I thought, I thought he was-" 

"Shh, it's okay now. Everything is going to be okay." You hold her to your chest, trying to soothe your nerves. The door swings open to your relief, and Daemon rushes in, sword drawn with the Gold Cloaks rushing in behind him.

"What happened? Are you okay? Alysanne? The baby?" Daemon's questions shoot at you, each before the words can find you. Staring up at him, blood smeared across your face, bruises forming, and tears filling your eyes. Daemon has never seen you like this and never plans to again.

"Mommy killed the bad guy. He tried to hurt us, but she saved us!" Your daughter summarizes to her father, who turns to his wife, shocked, before pulling her and her daughter into his arms, kissing each other on their foreheads. He always thought she lacked the fire a Targaryen has. But at every turn, she has proved him wrong. Not only did she give him a dragon and another coming, but she became one in the process.

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fic #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you

[gglitch1dd]

Blood of my House Pt1

Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader

Context: Eijiro's plan to claim back his family's throne is put on hold when you appear, as the rightful heir. You get on his nerves but you both need to work together in order to get the usurper off your throne. Lets just hope you both don't fall into the stereotype of your house.

Game of thrones inspired- The Kirishimas are basically the Targeryens. Credit given to George R Martin and the mastermind that he is.

Warning: this story deals with topics of cousin incest and referenced incest ( I don't condone this IRL), violence, taboo lust, blood, fire, time period specific misogyny and dragons. So be prepared. No smut... yet.

[P A R T 2] [BLOOD OF MY HOUSE MASTERLIST]

“If we advance our forces forward and take them from atop the valley, we can exterminate at least two thousand of their forces.” Bakugou Katsuki spoke as he moved the figures of black painted dragons that represented the Kirishima army. The blond man stood up straight as he motioned to the large map that was on the table that was in the shape of the continent that was the realm. He looked up from the table at the men that were around the table. “That way we can kill all those fuckers before the moon reaches it’s peak.”

Lord Taishiro Toyomitsu looked to the head of the table. His golden eyes on the man who was the centre of their cause. “Your grace.”

Kirishima Eijiro looked up from where he sat at the head of the table. His ruby eyes looking at the man who had unwaveringly and unquestionably joined his cause before looking around the table. Suffocating ruby eyes that gleamed with a fire so hot behind them. He looked back down at the table. He nodded his head. “Let it be done.” He stated as he stood up from his chair. Immediately everyone stood up, allowing him to leave the room with Katsuki following after him.

Eijiro exited out of the room, moving down the hallway, servants and lords bowing their heads to him as he moved towards his personal chambers. The stone walls of the castle were made out of dark black stone that was said to be burnt from an old dragon that melded the rocks together. Eijiro entered his room, placing down the heavy Valyrian steel sword against a table as he fell back down on a cushioned chair. He let out a sigh as he draped a hand over his eyes. Today was a long day of meetings and strategy.

Katsuki chuckled as he stood at the door. “Should I send dinner to your room?” He asked.

“Please.” Eijiro groaned. “And send for a Meyster.” He stated as he rubbed the side of his head. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat up. “I have a headache.”

Katsuki’s eyebrows twitched but he let out a grunt and closed the door.

Now alone, Eijiro put his head back with a sigh, glad to finally be alone. He didn’t think that leading a war against the Todoroki’s would be so difficult but he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised. He opened his eyes again as he looked back at the view from the mountain top. The Sunvaile manor was built into the mountains with its village surrounding it. Eijiro never thought he’d ever be here in his ancestral home, at least not leading it as Prince and rightful heir to the throne.

Eijiro barely remember his parents, he only knew of the tragedy that befell on their house. It was a great gathering here to celebrate the birth of King Kirishima Ryosuke the second’s second born, a son, after having had his eldest daughter a few years before. It was a tradition that the Kirishima family had whenever a baby was to be born. Having the babe born in their ancestral home where dragons were said to have first been discovered in this world, was said to be good luck. The parties were extravagant and with such a big house with so many members, Eijiro could only remember faces of people that looked so similar to one another.

However Todoroki Enji, Lord of Turnes, had plotted in secret and assassinated nearly every member of the Kirishima family to ensure that there was not a single person to claim the throne. Fortunately, Eijiro’s mother and father, Lord and Lady of Summersvale, managed to hide him away with a loyal sword that would send him far away so that when the time came he would ascend the throne. The last thing Eijiro remembered of his mother, her hair being the deep red of her house Toyomitsu and not the inherit trait of Kirishima black, and the whispered spell she had cast over his hair.

One of the most noticeable features of Kirishima lineage was the inky black hair and ruby eyes, a pair of traits that never separated from one another. Many of his elder siblings, his father, aunts and uncles had the same trait. A dominant gene that never left. However, the next time Eijiro looked at his reflection in cold water while on the run away from Summersvale, his hair was a crimson red, similar to that of his mother.

Unfortunately the loyal sword that had managed to get him out of Summersvale had fallen at the ends of smugglers and Eijiro found himself sold into slavery at the age of five. He was fortunately bought by the Bakugous, the family that led the BakuLands. He was young and was quickly taught the ropes, making sure to do what he was told as a little errand boy in exchange for food and a place to sleep. However, Eijiro always had an interest in the sword, and that’s how he met his best friend and brother at arms, Bakugou Katsuki.

Katsuki was an annoying little shit, but he was loyal and a good friend. He easily befriended Eijiro mostly because Eijiro was the only boy willing to befriend him other than the son of Katsuki’s former wetnurse, Midoriya Izuku, the bastard. Lady Mitsuki rather disliked Eijiro, not liking the fact that her son had made friends with a servant but it was the most she was ever going to get out of him. Eijiro trained beside Katsuki in secret and served him.

That was until Katsuki’s parents had taken Katsuki and consequently Eijiro as Katsuki’s personal servant, to Summersvale. It happened purely by chance that their hunting party had stumbled upon the caves that the dragons nested in. With a flash of fire, Eijiro trying to save Katsuki’s life, Eijiro was left unburnt and unscathed, however, like a phoenix’s burnt wings, his red a flame hair turned black like ashes. And ever since then, the whispers moved around the realm saying how one Kirishima had survived that night.

Prince Kirishima Eijiro.

Or at least, that’s how Eijiro remembered it.

Eijiro wondered what life would had been like did his parents survive, if that fateful night had not happened. He wondered if right now he’d be surrounded by his sisters, if he would be sitting down having dinner in a hall that was filled with laughter and bright smiles. If he would learn under his father to become the next Lord of Summersvale or whether his eldest sister would have taken the title (unlikely but a thought regardless). He wondered if he’d still be the same man as he was now.

He was taken out of his thoughts at the sound of racing footsteps out in the halls. Eijiro’s eyes flicked to the door before it opened. Katsuki stood there with heavy breaths as he kept the door opened standing in the doorway. “Eijiro, you must come and see this.”

Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood up from his chair, grabbing his sword as he did so and heading with haste out of his chambers. Katsuki escorted him out of the room and down the hall. “What is the matter? Is it the Todorokis?”

Katsuki shook his head as he headed towards a window that faced the front of the castle. “No. They bare a different banner.”

“Whose?”

Katsuki motioned for Eijiro to look outside. The setting sun had bathed the tops of the mountains in orange but otherwise darkness was quickly overtaking the land. But that did not stop Eijiro from seeing the banners that were being carried by a hoard of men, soldiers that were heading towards them, close enough to be concerning. At the sight of the black banners that bore the red sigil of a dragon curled up with flames surrounding it like the sun, Eijiro stiffened.

Katsuki sighed as he nodded. “They bare your banners.” He stated.

It didn’t take long before both men made it outside, Eijiro grabbing his clock and throwing it over his shoulders, a black furred mantel resting on his shoulders. It was once his fathers and he had always been shy of wearing it, but he prayed that it would give him strength right now. Both Katsuki and him headed down the outside stairs into the courtyard as the gates were opened to allow the visitors through.

Entering on horseback on a white stallion was a man neither Eijiro nor Katsuki thought they would see again. Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Deku?!” He let out surprised. “You bastard! You’re still alive?”

Sitting atop the stallion was a green haired man with freckles that littered his skin, his green eyes looked down at the blond with an amused glint but a deep dangerous poison brewing underneath. He scoffed as he got off of his horse. “I see you haven’t changed, Kacchan.” He stated as he landed on the ground with a thud as he walked over to the two men. Izuku’s eyes went to Eijiro, his eyes assessing him. It had been years since he last saw the other man. He bowed his head. “Your grace.”

“Izuku, it’s been a while.” He let out offering his hand.

At the sign of friendship Izuku took it with a smile of his own. “It has. Last time I saw you, your grace, your hair was red, not black.”

Eijiro chuckled. “A lot has happened.”

“Indeed.”

“Deku,” Katsuki folded his arms over his chest with a frown. “How are you alive and why on earth are you and your forty thousand men baring up Kirishima banners? Have you finally come to help our cause?”

Izuku hesitated before an amused chuckle came from his lips. “I am here to fight a Kirishima cause yes, just not yours.” He revealed before motioning up to the sky. “Hers.”

Eijiro looked up to the sky, clouds seemingly undisturbed however as he kept looking he noticed something strange moving closer, rippling through the clouds. An odd sound went through the air, a loud roar that sounded different from his own dragon. His eyes widened as a large dark dragon came flying in the air over the caslte. The force of the wind, nearly knocking many back but Eijiro stood his ground.

He noticed a person was riding a top of the dragon as it circled around, gradually getting lower to the ground. Finally, the large dragon settled on one of the thick walls of the castle, made to be that thick due to the dragon claws and weight. The large beast let out a loud roar, snaking its head up to the sky almost in victory at being back home. It ruffled its wings before lowering its head to pear down at the men that were staring up at it in fear.

Eijiro’s men had sort of gotten used to his own dragon, Riot, but that was mostly because she was the only one left. Or so they thought.

Sitting perched on the dragons body was a woman, who’s eyes bore into Eijiro’s like a mirror. Something twisted inside of him, wondering who on earth you were. The dragon lowered his head with a scuttle as you unseated yourself, using his wing to slide down and land on your feet. You were dressed in black, in a jacket and suit that suit you well as you walked forward to stand before Eijiro and Katsuki.

Izuku stiffened and bowed his head. “You stand in the presence of Y/N of House Kirishima, first of her name, eldest daughter of King Ryosuke Kirishima, second of his name, rightful heir to the throne, the princess of skies and speaker for the broken, the unscorched lady of the night.” Izuku introduced as you stood looking at Eijiro unwaveringly.

Eijiro blinked at the introduction. He turned to look at Katsuki. Katsuki looked at him then quickly got the jist. “This is Eijiro.” He stated plainly. Eijiro punched his side. “OF House Kirishima.” He continued with a glare at his best friend. He cleared his throat and motioned back to Eijiro. “He’s Lord of Summersvale.”

You raised a slight eyebrow at the short introduction but it was more in amusement than anything. You chuckled as you looked over at the man in front of you. He was undoubtedly a Kirishima male. The long thick black hair that cascaded down his back like a mane and the burning intense ruby eyes that he had were enough to tell you. “Cousin.” You greeted with a smile.

Eijiro’s eyebrow twitched as he recognised you. Despite having spent years apart, the sight of one of his kin was enough to assure him of your identity. Blood could recognise blood. “Cousin.” He acknowledged. At his acknowledgement, Katsuki looked at him shocked, but Eijiro couldn’t didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“It has been far too long.” You started, your eyes moving over his figure once more. Despite seeing him and seeing what was once your little cousin Eijiro, his size surprised you. He had grown to fill the large disposition that was infamous of the men in your family. Large broad shoulders and a tall thick muscled demeanour. He was taller than any man you had ever seen and carried himself with such prowess. “Last time I saw you, you were but a boy still young enough to be attached to your mother’s tits.” You let out snidely, earning a humeroued smirk from Izuku and stifled chuckles from his men.

Eijiro’s eyebrows twitched. “Last time I saw you, you were but a girl who didn’t have any.” He shot back earning some laughs from his own men behind him.

You stood your ground, your smile not faltering as you looked at him. “We have grown.”

“Yes...” His eyes moved down your figure, your stomach tightening in knots as you watched him. His eyes flicked back up to his face. “Yes, we have.” He joined his hands in front of himself as he glared down at you. “What are you doing here Y/N?” He asked with a furrowed gaze.

You let out a breath. “How about we discuss this inside? It is getting late and cold and I’d rather give my men some rest.” You stated.

Eijiro was silent for a moment but nodded his head. Katsuki gave him a pointed look that Eijiro ignored. “Katsuki arrange for her rooms to be ready. We are heading inside.” He ordered as he turned around and headed inside.

You followed after him, motioning for Izuku to tell your men to set up camp for the time being in case you would have to leave the following day. You and the rest of your advisors headed into the castle. You looked up at the formidable entrance, stone dragons perched near the entrance, the size of young dragons barely able to be ridden yet. You turned to look at your own dragon. He was getting herded away by dragon chamberlains, them speaking to the large beast in High Valeryian. You trusted that he would behave himself and so walked in after Eijiro.

Eijiro did not speak as you followed after him. But you didn’t want him to speak as you looked around the castle halls. It had been so long since you had been back home here, back to your ancestral home. A part of you felt as though you could feel your family’s embrace even though shrouded in the darkness of their demise. You saw a family portrait hanging formidably.

Your uncle Takeo and his wife Yua with four little girls surrounding them and a little baby boy in Yua’s arms. You knew it was Eijiro and a part of you wanted to scoff at the little thing. He seemed like such a brat.

You continued to follow him into a room you were never allowed in as a child. A room where all the men of your family sat, often talking plans when it came to governing the seven kingdoms or when it came to the family. Your eyes looked at the table, the map of all the kingdoms set before you. Your fingers slid on the obsidian marble that was the table in front of you. Your eyes moved to the head of the table where your father used to sit.

Eijiro watched you, how you silently reminisced as you slowly walked through the room. It was quiet as you did so, everyone spectating you. Your eyes moved up to him, noticing how he had moved to sit at the Head of the table. You gave him a tense smile as you sat the opposite end. Izuku took his place beside you and Katsuki stood beside Eijiro.

Eijiro’s hands were joined together in front of him as he watched you with a analytical gleam. “I assume that this visit isn’t a familial one amongst kin.” He started, now that everyone whose ears needed to be in the room, were there.

You hummed as you leaned against the chair you sat in. “Indeed.” You nodded your head agreeing with him. “I heard about your cause all the way in Chalrogo. After some thoughts and talks amongst me and my councilmen, it was decided that the best course of action was to find you and join our causes so that I shall take my rightful place on the throne.”

“Your rightful place on the throne?” Eijiro asked with a scoff as he looked at you up and down. A humoured chuckle left his throat as he did so.

Your eyebrows twitched in annoyance as you sat up. “Do you find something humorous?”

Eijiro nodded his head with a smile. “The fact that you think you belong on the throne, is humorous.”

“And why is that?”

“Why?” Eijiro asked with a scoff. He motioned to you before leaning to the side with his hand supporting him. “No woman has ever sat upon the throne.”

You knew he would say that, every man has said that. “I am the eldest born and only child left of King Ryosuke.” You reminded him. “I have a greater right to sit on that throne more than you.”

“Ah, but you forget, cousin.” Eijiro let out with a tsk as he shook his head. “I am the oldest male of the Kirishima House left, which automatically makes me Head of the family and King by default.”

“Your father, swore an oath to his older brother, my father, that he would be loyal and dedicated to our reign.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you kept your eyes on Eijiro. “Your father owes me that vow and you, as his son, are the only one left to uphold that.”

Eijiro frowned at your excuses. He found them pathetic and rather humerous. He couldn’t ignore the matter at hand that was your new found existence in his life, but this all seemed a bit much for him. Katsuki stepped forward. “Excuse me, Y/N-”

“Princess Y/N.” Izuku corrected with a glare.

Katsuki rolled his eyes at Izuku’s interruption. “Yes, yes, your grace,” He said dripping in sarcasm. “But last time I checked, your brother was born and named heir on the night of the Burnout flame.”

You rolled your own eyes. “Oh please. My younger brother had barely lived longer than an hour before his life came to an end due to the usurper that is Todoroki Enji.”

“At least there is one thing we agree on.” Eijiro pointed out. “You want to join our forces.”

You let out a breath, trying to regain control of yourself and a sound mind. You nodded your head. “The blood of our house is stronger together, is it not?” You asked. “I have 45 000 men and fifty ships ready and waiting at my disposal, as well as enough gold to burn.”

Sero Hanta’s eyebrows twitched as he tilted his head. “How much gold?” He asked.

You glanced to Izuku. He nodded as he turned to the door and opened it, allowing two of your armed men to carry in a chest filled with gold. The chest was brought down on the floor with a heavy thud, coins already spilling out of it. Eijiro and his men had wide eyes at the sight of it.

“I have fifty of those.” You revealed bluntly.

Eijiro was silent as he looked from the chest over to you. He wondered what on earth you had been through and what you had done in order to have such power at your back and call.

“Your grace,” Both him and you had turned your heads to look Toyomitsu Taishiro. He looked to Eijiro with an earnest look. “Joining your forces under one banner would give us the advantage. A hundred thousand men strong would be enough to defeat the Todorokis with the right plan.” He acknowledged. Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed but he listened. He owed this man, his uncle, his life and a lot more. He trusted him. Taishiro turned to look at you. “Besides, your house must be united now more than ever. And forgive me for saying, my princess,” You smiled. “But you look just like your mother. Even now.”

You smiled gently at the complement. You nodded your head in gratitude. “Thank you, Lord Toyomitsu. My house will always be grateful for the loyalty and fealty to us.”

“Yes, my nephew has told me.” He acknowledged as he motioned to Eijiro.

Eijiro frowned as he looked over at you. Here you were, sitting in front of him almost as if you dropped out of the sky. Eijiro was not sure what to do. He let out a grunt. “I think it is obvious that together we are stronger than divided.” You nodded at the obvious. “Then I agree. We will work together to unseat King Enji from the throne.”

“Then who will sit on the throne?” One of your advisors, Lord Aizawa Shota asked as he leaned back in his chair tiredly.

You turned to look at Eijiro and he stared at you right back. You forced a smile to your face. “I think we can determine that like adults, can’t we, Eijiro?” You asked with a smile that Eijiro wanted to pull off of your face.

He nodded curtly. “Of course. But please, we shall show you to your rooms and we can eat dinner together, as one.” You nodded your head as you stood up from opposite him. All of your men stood up and followed you out of the room, followed by a servant that was summoned by Katsuki. Once you finally left Eijiro let out a groan as he leaned back and dragged a hand down his face.

“So…” Kaminari Denki started lowly as he tapped his fingers on the table. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that she looks like every man’s best dream?” He asked openly.

Eijiro glanced at the blond man with a glare which quickly shut Denki up. He wasn’t wrong, you had grown a lot since he had last saw you. You were a woman now. In every shape of the word and it haunted him. Suffocatingly so. You were smart, he could tell by the arsenal you had behind you but you were also beautiful and deeply aware of it too. He could tell by the way every single man in the room was unable to look away from you.

“This could be a trick.” He let out lowly as he thought about every possible scenario.

“If so, she’s a very needed trick.” Sato acknowledged, his arms folded over his chest. “She comes with men, ships and a hefty sum to her name.”

Commander Hounddog nodded his head with a low grunt. “She’s perfect to your cause, your grace.”

“But then comes the real question…” Taishiro started as he adjusted his seating, minding his large belly as he did so. His golden eyes moved to Eijiro and the younger man knew that he was going to say something that would make the entire room uncomfortable. “Are you going to wed her?”

Eijiro let out a loud laugh at the thought. “Wed her?!” He asked motioning to the door. “She’s my cousin!”

“Yes but… It’s kind of what your family does.” Sero let out with an awkward smile. “You’re a Kirishima, she’s a Kirishima, you both have blood that stems from a time of old magic and dragons.”

“It would solidify your claim to the throne.” Tetsutetsu recognized earning hums from around the room.

Eijiro scoffed as he stood up from his chair. “Oh please! That’s appalling. I don’t have to marry her in order to stake my claim. My mother was not a Kirishima and I have the same claim as she does!”

“But that is because your grandfather, King Shinyo first of his name, wanted to cement the ties between our two families.” Taishiro reminded his nephew with a pointed look. “But your grandparents were both from House Kirishima, her parents were both Kirishimas.”

Katsuki nodded with a hum. “Siblings in fact.”

Eijiro glared up at the blond. “You are not helping!” He told his best friend. “If marrying a woman is so important, fine I will do so, but it damn well will not be her! My blood is thick enough to not need her for anything other than her assistance to the throne. By the end of the season cycle, I will be seated as the next king of the realm, whether she likes it or not.”

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #mha x y/n #mha #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #eijiro kirishima #bnha #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha eijirou #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijirou #eijiro x reader #mha fantasy #mha fantasy au #dragon kirishima eijiro #dragon rider kirishima eijirou #dragon kirishima #dragon kirishima x reader #tw inc*st

[radiofreederry]

Happy birthday, Fred Hampton! (August 30, 1948)

A prominent revolutionary Black American leader of the 1960s, Fred Hampton was born in the suburbs of Chicago to parents who had moved from Louisiana in the Great Migration. His activism began in his teen years, as he led walkouts in protest of Black students' exclusion from activities and for more Black faculty at school. By 18, he had come to identify as a socialist, with the revolutionary struggles of the third world resonating with him. He became a local leader in the NAACP, but soon felt more attracted to the approach of the Black Panther Party, which he also quickly rose through the ranks of. Hampton led efforts to stamp out sexism in the party, and forged a non-aggression pact among Chicago's street gangs, while also working to build a multi-racial revolutionary coalition with groups such as the Young Patriots Organization and Young Lords; Hampton would call this alliance the Rainbow Coalition. Hampton was also largely responsible for the party's free breakfast program, an evolution of his efforts in his youth to keep his community well-fed. The FBI came to identify Hampton as a major threat, and through its COINTELPRO program launched efforts to strip him and the Panthers of their influence. Finally, after being betrayed by a comrade, Hampton was assassinated by the Cook County State Attorney's Office, with aid from the Chicago PD and FBI, which organized the raid.

"We got to face some facts. That the masses are poor, that the masses belong to what you call the lower class, and when I talk about the masses, I'm talking about the white masses, I'm talking about the black masses, and the brown masses, and the yellow masses, too. We've got to face the fact that some people say you fight fire best with fire, but we say you put fire out best with water. We say you don't fight racism with racism. We're gonna fight racism with solidarity. We say you don't fight capitalism with no black capitalism; you fight capitalism with socialism."

#birthdays #fred hampton

[mhsdatgo]

Alicent crowing aegon exposing her children to more risk than just letting rhaenyra became queen. Rhaenyra wanted that throne, there is no way she would have accepted those "terms", and alicent is 100% aware of this in the book and in the show as well. By crowning aegon she start a war and put her children DIRECTLY on the battlefield against people who were more experienced in war like daemon or ride dragon longer like rhaenyra and rhaenys amd consequently may control their dragon better. If you didn't want to consider a crash between two or more dragons, even if they were on a dragon against an army the danger is very high, look at rhaenys the conqueror or aemon the first son of jaehaerys, they were on dragon's back and yet both of them were killed by arrow. Not to mention that both in the book and in the show alicent spend years creating animosity with rhaenyra, If you TRULY believe that someone may hurt your children you do everything you can to maintain at least a civil relationship, and not constantly provoke them and then cry about how your children may be hurt by your stupidity. Because that what alicent has done in the book starting hating rhaenyra, pray viserys to name Aegon as heir and constantly share gossip to damage rhaenyra's image (with a 10 years old girl, meanwhile Alicent was a GROWN woman), and in the show the situation is not different. The truth is that alicent’s action were based on her own ambitious in the book and on her resentment to rhaenyra in the show, but NEVER in the interest of her children. In fact aegon never wanted to be king, he was forced by her and has to endure all the consequences while watching all of his family die

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have someone who quite literally didn't get a single thing about Fire and Blood.

See, anons like these are what makes my blood boil at the writers of HotD for making Rhaenyra appear like a saint which not only made most of the decisions she'll take from this moment onward out of (show) character (as far as character building and development goes) but also fucking boring.

I'm always one to listen to different points of view and interpretations of books as complicated as these, but something that has always bugged me is the way this fandom CANNOT DIGEST the type of tragedy that is just inevitable.

It was never about picking sides, it was never about sexism, it was always about kin torn apart by kin and their own flaws dragging them down. There was no way to ever avoid that and I cannot have a proper discussion about F&B with anyone who doesn't understand this first.

Moreover, just what do you think Alicent should've done? Shut up, be quiet, sit still and look pretty while Daemon's spies turned her children into bloody shreds? Allow them to be assassinated because of the threat they pose to Rhaenyra's claim? Does everything revolve around her? Is she some kind of Twilight Sparkle?

Let me tell you this: no woman would willingly step back and leave their children to their own devices when their own lives pose a threat to someone else's interests.

I have respect for Rhaenyra and her will to fight for what she believed was her birthright (although let's be honest, it was a feeling born out of nothing but the entitlement of a spoiled brat, it turned into a war of parents after one of each faction's children was killed) but I also have so much more respect for Alicent and her courage to bare teeth and claws and plan a coup to be allowed the upper hand and more possibilities of looking after her children if one of them is ruling. It's not "stupidity" it's awareness. And acting according to it.

It's true that Alicent has her own ambitions, but to say that they started growing in her when she was nothing but an 18 year old girl marrying a 30 year old man... Do you hear yourself? That's a girl getting graduated from high school. Oh shiver me timbers, we're scared of young adults here.

Everyone likes and loves and adores to talk about the way ALICENT was having beef with Rhaenyra as a 10 year old but nevermind Rhaenyra placing a bounty on two toddlers and one of them getting ripped apart because of it. Nevermind her refusing that bastard Corlys' advice to take Daeron as a hostage and demanding that he be killed instead. (Because this bitch was the #1 threat to her rule, but y'all aren't ready for that conversation)

She never "prayed" for Aegon to be named as heir, what she DID pray for was for him and Rhaenyra to be betrothed to one another. I hate Rhaegon personally, (no hate to any Rhaegon stan that reads this ♥️) but honestly this is the only marriage that could've MAYBE prevented the Dance. It started because there were two claimants to the throne. Just marry them to each other and the issue was solved. Both of them get crowned, no Dance, peace.

But noooooo, Viserys, the incompetent twat, as always had to act like an incompetent twat and be like "lol but they don't get along". IT WAS HIM WHO DOOMED HIS CHILDREN, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF HIS SONS AND DAUGHTERS. ALL. OF. THEM.

Everyone else acted as a consequence to the cluterfuck that the sick old man created. Namely, chaos. What else did you expect?

#hotd #house of the dragon #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #anti rhaenyra stans #anti team black #anti viserys i targaryen

[deadpresidents]

Everyone knows about Lincoln and Garfield and McKinley and Kennedy, the quartet of America Presidents who fell victim to assassination. Even the most casual observers of Presidential history can probably name the four Presidents who were murdered while in office, and many even know the names of the four assassins responsible for their deaths: Booth, Guiteau, Czolgosz, and Oswald.

There have also been quite a few (in)famous unsuccessful assassination attempts, where Presidents barely escaped with their lives, that many Americans are familiar with, including (but not limited to):

•Richard Lawrence's miraculously unlucky double misfire on the steps of the U.S. Capitol in 1835 which left Andrew Jackson unharmed but resulted in Lawrence -- who would be found not guilty by reason of insanity -- getting viciously pummeled by the cane-wielding President Jackson until Davy Crockett intervened to save the would-be assassin from the 67-year-old President. •The shooting of former President Theodore Roosevelt in Milwaukee as he sought another term in the White House during the 1912 Presidential election. Despite being shot in the chest, Roosevelt decided to go ahead and deliver his campaign speech before being taken to the hospital where doctors discovered that the bullet lodged inside of TR had first passed through a case for his eyeglasses and the thick pages of his speech in his jacket's pocket, lessening the damage from the gunshot. •The attempted assassination of President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt in Miami in February 1933, just seventeen days in before FDR's Inauguration, which wounded four people and killed Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak. •The ill-fated 1950 attempt by Puerto Rican nationalists to storm Blair House (the temporary Presidential residence during the renovation of the White House) and kill President Harry S. Truman as he was napping. Truman was not hurt, but a White House Police Officer and one of the two assassins were killed during the wild shootout. •President Gerald Ford's trouble with two California women who separately tried to kill him in Sacramento and then San Francisco just two weeks apart in September 1975. •The shocking shooting of President Ronald Reagan in broad daylight from just a few yards away as he exited the Washington Hilton following a speech in March 1981, which left four people wounded and very nearly killed the 70-year-old Reagan just two months into his Presidency.

But what is amazing is that, in this age of instant information and the constant regurgitation of media coverage via the 24-hour news cycle, very few Americans know that there is a man sitting in prison in the former Soviet Republic of Georgia for attempting to assassinate President George W. Bush. What even less Americans realize is how close Vladimir Arutyunian actually came to accomplishing his task.

On May 10, 2005, President Bush spoke to a large crowd at an outdoor rally in Tbilisi, Georgia. In one of the photos at the top of this post, Bush is seen speaking from the stage in Tbilisi. The other photo is of Arutyunian holding a plaid handkerchief close to his chest. Wrapped in that handkerchief was a live hand grenade.

As President Bush spoke, nearby sat his wife, Laura, Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili, and the Dutch-born First Lady of Georgia, Sandra Roelofs. They had no idea that, during the speech, Arutyunian tossed his handkerchief-wrapped grenade towards the stage. The grenade landed just 61 feet away from President Bush, well within range of causing serious injury, if not death.

Of course, the grenade did not explode. At first, it was thought to be a dud, but upon closer inspection it was discovered that the only reason the grenade didn't explode was because Arutyunian's handkerchief -- used to conceal the explosive as he stood in the crowd -- was wrapped too tightly around the grenade, preventing the firing pin from deploying. A Georgian security official noticed the grenade, grabbed it quickly and disposed of it as Arutyunian disappeared into the massive crowd and President Bush continued speaking.

After Bush's speech was over and once it was recognized that the President had only narrowly escaped a legitimate attempted assassination, Georgian police worked closely with the United States Secret Service, the FBI, and the U.S. Justice Department to investigate the assassination attempt and find the would-be assassin who seemingly melted into Tbilisi after his brazen, albeit unsuccessful attempt on Bush's life. Using DNA evidence and tips from informants, the Georgian police ultimately tracked down Arutyunian two months later. When they went to arrest Arutyunian, a gunfight broke out and Arutyunian killed Zurab Kvlividze, a top counterterrorism official with Georgia's Interior Ministry. Arutyunian was wounded before finally being captured with the assistance of Georgian Special Forces.

The Georgians tried Arutyunian on the murder of the police officer, as well as the attempted assassinations of President Bush and President Saakshvili. Arutyunian was sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. A federal grand jury in the United States also indicted Arutyunian on the federal charge of the attempted assassination of the President of the United States, which is a felony. The U.S., however, has not attempted nor has any potential plans to extradite the failed assassin from Georgia, and Arutyunian will almost certainly spend the rest of his life in a Georgian prison.

#History #Presidents #Presidential History #Presidential Assassinations #Presidential Assassination Attempts #George W. Bush #President Bush #Bush 43 #Bush Administration #Presidency #Georgia #Tbilisi #Mikheil Saakshvili #Vladimir Arutyunian #Attempted Assassination of George W. Bush #Presidential Assassins #Assassination Attempts #Assassins #Unsuccessful Assassination Attempts #Politics #Georgian History #European History #Assassinations #Failed Assassination Attempts #Richard Lawrence #Andrew Jackson #President Jackson #Theodore Roosevelt #John Schrank #Attempted Assassination of Theodore Roosevelt

[daegustae]

lion’s den | jeon jungkook

pairing ; mafia boss ! jungkook x assassin ! reader.  

genre ; mafia!au, smut, angst | one shot

summary ; your mission was to kill jeon jungkook until it became something more.

word count ; 5.8k

warnings ;  smut (18+), fingering, clit slapping, slight rough fucking, hickeys bigdick!jungkook, some dirty talks, choking, voyeurism, explicit language, unprotected sex (yall do it without the un), mentions of blood (not too extreme), blackmailing, use of guns, daddy issues. 

a/n ;  im backkk pls let me know ur thoughts on this one :D 

¯¨’*·~-.¸¸,.-~*’ •·.·´¯`·.·• `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.· •´`·..íì..·´`•

You walk down the familiar hallway, the sounds of your shoes echoing, getting the attention of the guards waiting at the end of it, you take a deep breath as the door you curse your whole existence opens revealing a fancy and clean office clearly opposite from the one who owns it. 

You despise the man sitting behind his desk, looking at you with a smirk that you wish you could wipe off his face. The room reeks of cigarette and alcohol, you crunch your nose in disgust.

“Have a seat” he motions with his hand signaling you to do as he says

“Just tell me what I have to do” you cross your arms tightly, impatiently tapping your feet on the expensive hard-wood floor, refusing to sit, making him narrow his eyes at you. 

“Are you really going to disobey me now?” his tone threatening, you send him a death glare doing as you’re told. He hums in satisfaction, lighting up a cigarette before inhaling the smoke and exhaling it right in front of your face after. This fucking old bitch, You close your eyes tightly, holding back from killing this man right here and then. 

“Where is he?” his eyebrow raises at your question, tilting his head as if contemplating whether to answer you. 

“Do this job and I’ll tell you” you growl slamming your hand on the table in which he didn’t flinch, his grin only getting wider taunting you. 

“Give him back and I’ll do it” your heart aches at the thought of his little figure, scared and confused about what's happening without you by his side. 

“Not happening. He should be the least of your concern right now, kill this man for me” He says putting a photograph of a man on the table for you to look at. He looks young, clean and pretty even but you can never judge a book by its cover. You can’t help but notice the piercings on his eyebrow and lips. Few of his tattoos are exposed, who is he? 

“Jeon Jungkook. Son of my greatest enemy. As you know, his father died last year with my own hands, and now he is taking over. I would just let him live, but he is taking my customers, recruiting the best people even those idiots who I fired. You know, very bad for my business. He’s building an empire and you have to stop it.” 

“Why me?” eyes narrowing as you look at him with hatred 

“He doesn’t know you, in fact no one from our enemies knows you. You’re my greatest possession, dear I made you for this very mission. Also you’re pretty, he likes pretty women.” You clench your fists by your sides. Loathing at how he sees you as an object that can be disposed whenever he pleases, like you were born to be one. 

You stand up without a word, stopping to your tracks as you near the door. “And if I fail?” 

“Oh you won’t, you don’t wanna see his tiny corpse inside his favorite backpack, do you?” You stomp your way back to his table, grabbing him by his collar with your hands. 

“He’s your son”  your words echoing around the room 

“Not biologically.” 

“I’m going to kill you after this.” you tell him sternly pulling him close as you look him straight in the eyes. The eyes that you hate the most knowing it’s the same as yours. He laughs loudly completely unfazed by your threat

“Do your mission first eh?” You drop your hold gritting your teeth before walking away. 

“Oh and take care, my lovely daughter.” He yells from behind you, your nostrils flare with one thing in your mind. Burn this place down. 

-

“Don’t fuck this up.” Your father tells you through the small earpiece, you roll your eyes. Fixing your hair making sure it covers your ear and the earpiece which is almost pea-sized. 

“If you shut up, then I won’t be as distracted” you snap, you nod at the person who opens your door. Dusting off your black long dress that hugs your boobs and body perfectly. The thigh high slit on the right side and simple jewelry you’re wearing completes the look. 

You scan the area, putting on the half black lace mask on your face. Who the hell still even throws a masquerade party?  

You nod at the security guard, showing the invitation you were able to forge easily. A crowd of people soon fill your vision. It’s dark and big but the only light that is provided is from the disco ball and bar. 

You make your way to the corner of the room, observing the people around you. If you were a normal person, you would have just simply thought this was an elegant and good party. But you weren’t, so do the people here. Few of them could be murderers, hell you already assumed everyone in this room has at least killed one or two people in this lifetime. Everyone here is dangerous. 

“Find him” the annoying voice orders. You crouch down, pretending to fix your heels, making sure the gun you strapped on your calf is still there and will stay hidden. 

“I am trying, why did you have to send me to a masquerade ball? I could just kill him in his sleep” You bite your lip looking for your target. The lighting is a good cover-up but it makes your work harder knowing everyone is wearing masks, you can’t just spot him in one go, or so you thought. 

“I’m telling you this is now or never, we won’t get a chance as close as this.” He warns  

“Shut up, turn this off if you have to.” Your breath hitch as you spot a figure on the second floor, his sleeves are rolled up revealing some of his tattoos, his arms are leaning on the railings, looking at the crowd below him. Looking at you. It’s not hard to find him considering that he carries this aura you can’t put your finger on. You gotta blend in. You curse under your breath, looking away as you make your way to the bar to get yourself a drink. That’s definitely him. 

“Straight up” you tell the bartender thanking him as you get your glass. You glance at your target, only to find out that he’s disappeared. Fuck where did he go?  

“Looking for someone?” You jump slightly from the voice behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck reminding you of how you are with each other. You take a sip of your drink, the taste of whiskey immediately burning your throat, composing yourself before responding. 

“Are you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrow at him. He chuckles lightly, putting his hand on your lower back to pull you closer to him. You gasp, grabbing his shoulder with one hand the other on your drinking glass. 

“Straight up? You're supposed to drink whiskey on the rocks” He tells you, taking the glass out of your hand for him to finish your drink as you frown at him, watching his every move. This is your chance. Don’t fall for his antics.  

“No you’re supposed to drink it with your own preference, now if you’ll excuse me” You remove his hand on you, widening the space between you both before you find yourself walking away from him. You look over your shoulder subtly, making sure he’s following you. Just like what you planned. 

“I prefer you entertaining me” He pulls you into him, your back hitting his firm chest as you feel his hands touching your hips delicately but with pressure. The feather of his mask tickling the side of your face as he brushes your hair to the side, his breath on the back of your neck feels like electricity making you tilt your head to the side giving him more access. 

“I’m not a whiskey” you lean your body on his, almost losing your balance as he turns your body around making you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Don’t you know me?” you can see his quirk eyebrows, his flirting tone not faltering though. Your face only inches away, lips hovering but not completely meeting each other. The masks clearly are a bother for you both. 

“Should I know you?” You are so close you could feel the heat of his body. Your hand making its way to the nape of his neck. 

“No, but you’re about to.” you gasp softly as your lips connect, slow and then desperately. You pull away catching your breath, he takes off his mask knocking the breath out of you, god he’s pretty that picture didn’t do him any justice. He put his finger under your mask tapping it as if asking for permission to take it off. You nod. This wasn’t part of the plan but I guess I can improvise.  

“Never seen a pretty girl like you before.” He presses his lips against your neck, making you moan and pull his hair before he’s chasing your lips again. His hand wanders through the slit of your dress, palming your pussy making you jolt in surprise. The other on your back, keeping you steady. 

“Fuck you’re so wet already.” he growls nipping at the juncture between your neck and shoulder that for sure will leave marks. And you can only suppress your moans, grinding on the hand that’s between your legs. His warm fingers tracing your clit through your lace underwear, putting pressure then pulling away teasing you. 

“W-wait here?” You shriek quietly, holding his wrist. Afraid that you might get attention from other people especially now that you both don’t have your masks. He chuckles looking at you with lust. 

“Look around angel, no one’s paying attention” You do as he says watching everyone minding their own business. Either too busy dancing or doing god knows what with this poor lighting room. “Tell me to stop and I will” You can kill him later. 

“Don’t” He towers over your body, hiding you from the crowd with his broad figure. You feel him set your panties aside, as you both stand in the corner of the room. You watch him retrieve his hand, gripping your chin to bring your face closer to his. Tapping your lips with his tattooed fingers. 

“Open” you open your mouth, Jungkook inserting his two fingers inside. You look at him directly in the eyes, licking his fingers delicately, before he has them shoving down your throat choking you. 

“Fuck I’ll let you have my dick in your mouth, next time” he swears taking them out and thrusting his fingers inside you with a warning. You keep your thighs shut earning a tsk from him. Slapping your pussy sending you in shock. 

“Keep them open”  You let out a loud moan in surprise, feeling his fingers stretch your walls. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, kissing his lips sloppily, leaving kisses on his neck to his jaw. Leaving your prints all over his skin to suppress your moans. 

“Oh g-god” you meet his fingers, grinding and tightening your walls as you chase your orgasm. “S-so good” 

“Yeah?” pride is evident in his voice, pushing his fingers knuckle deep inside your pussy. His thumb rubbing your clit in the process. 

“J-just like that please I’m gonna cum” you beg

“C’mon princess wet my fingers” you arch your back, Jungkook leaving sloppy kisses on your chest as you release. Feeling your slicks runs  down your legs. He helps you gain your balance as your legs shake in pleasure. You watch him bring his fingers in his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you. Licking the remnants of your pleasure. 

“Delicious” he gives you a satisfied smirk “Let's get to know each other more, yeah?” squeezing your butt one last time before dragging you across the room. 

“Jungkook” He tells you his hand enveloping yours as he leads you out of the crowd to the hallway upstairs. He looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow at you expecting you to say your name. 

“Doesn’t matter, this is only a one time thing” He nods at your response before continuing to walk, 

“What the fuck are you doing?”  a hiss from another line calls out, you scratch your ear, jungkook won’t hear him with this distance, you try to catch up to him as the noise from the party fades away, reaching another hallway with guards waiting at the end of a door. 

You gulp already calculating your moves and keeping in mind your exit points in case you get busted. You make it to the door, moving closer to Jungkook as the guard attempts to check you. 

“No need to search her, she’s with me and your job is done for the night” You quietly let out a sigh of relief, watching the guards eye you up and down before Jungkook’s pulling you inside. You don’t have time to scan the room as he immediately pins you against the floor-to-ceiling window. Your back makes contact with the cold glass, sending shivers down your spine. 

He pulls down the top part of your dress fully exposing your chest as the strap of your dress fights for its life to stay on your body. He quickly devours your nipples, giving each a lick before sucking them. He continues his assault on your breasts, nipping at the skin under to leave marks. You moan as you pull his hair in pleasure earning a growl from Jungkook. He leaves sloppy wet kisses about to go down further making your eyes widen. 

You cup his jaw with both hands stopping his ministrations. He raises his eyebrow, standing up straight to look at you with concern. You almost got hypnotized goddamn  “What’s wrong?” 

“Just .. just fuck me” you beg masking your surprise with lust, if he finds your gun down there then it’s all over. You hastily unbutton the black sleeve shirt he has on, throwing it somewhere and gulping at the sight of his abs. He quirks his eyebrows at you, chuckling lightly before nodding, completely oblivious of your plans. 

“As you wish” he quickly pulls down his trousers and underwear just enough for his length to be set free, you almost drool with how it slaps his stomach. “Condoms” he mutters to himself. You shake your head the sooner you’ll start, the sooner this will finish. 

“I'm on the pill” as if something pushes his button, Jungkook turns your body around your hand laying flat on the window glass for balance. 

“Be a good girl, yeah?” His voice sends shivers down your core, you lift your dress, just enough for him to see your behind, but not enough to notice what you are hiding. You’re both horny, he won’t notice. 

“Mhmm” setting your panties aside, you both moan in unison as he presses inside your tight cunt slowly, his long and huge girth stretching you in every way possible. 

“So tight.” He growls, the lack of condom only adding to both of your pleasure as you feel his veins. You look at him through the glass window, watching his face contorted in pleasure. You look ahead of you, if someone decides to get some air, they would clearly see you and Jungkook from there. Jungkook notices you being distracted smirking like he knows what you’re thinking. 

“You like the idea of being watched?” you can only moan, breathing heavily. Only realizing that you have someone listening to what’s happening on the other line. “Fuck you just got tighter” You clench on his dick even more, getting turn on by the moment. Jungkook’s tattooed hand makes its way to your neck, tightening the grip just enough to cut off some of the air from you. The other on your breast to keep you still and pull you closer. You yelp, hand on the back of his head pulling him possibly even closer. 

“I-m gonna cum” His thrust becomes rougher, every thrust feels like he is arranging your guts. His balls slapping your ass. He grabs your chin from the side, nibbling your earlobe and giving your lips hard, and deep kisses as you chase your high. 

“Fucking hell, princess wet my dick just like that.” your body shakes as you release your 2nd orgasm for the night, meeting Jungkook’s hips to help him chase his own high. He drills inside you, fucking you through your orgasm. He groans, the sound of skin slapping and heaving breathing fills the room. It’s not long before his thrust becomes restless filling you with his warm seeds within seconds. His dick pulsating inside you. He pulls out of you before you hear rustles from behind. 

You lean your head on the glass, fixing your straps and taking time to process your thoughts smirking as you hear something breaking. And a gun clicking behind your head. 

“Did you break it? Is he gone?” You title your head looking at the broken earpiece before he’s shoving you on the glass window. Pinning both of your hands on your back with one hand. The other holding you at gunpoint. 

“Rescue won’t come for you” he growls, you can feel the hatred in his voice, damn he’s so fast you didn’t even notice him pulling his pants up. 

“Good” you bite the inside of your cheek maintaining eye contact with him through the glass before crouching down to get your gun fast. Using all your strength to get out of his grip. “Because I won’t need it”

“You do know this is my territory right? Even if you kill me you won’t even last a second before you’re on the ground too.” you point your gun at him, Jungkook standing to his full height, you’d be lying if you say he’s not scary. “Who do you work for?” 

“No one” 

“Bullshit” you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath before dropping your gun and putting your hands in the air to surrender. Jungkook looks at you confused before pointing the gun at your head yet again. Making you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“Kang, Kang Dae” you say slowly “he sent me to kill you” Jungkook laughs, a genuine laugh as if you told him a very funny joke. 

“Isn’t that obvious? That bastard huh my father’s life wasn’t enough?” he says sarcastically “Any last words, princess?” His eyes show no remorse, the concern look before now changed to bitterness. 

“I can help you kill him” you propose, this is your plan all along, you assume Jungkook is smart enough to put everything together. 

“What makes you think I want to kill him?” 

“He killed your father” 

“Which I am in favor of, by the way. He’s a bad man, he deserved it.” He shrugs “Tell me more” 

“He’s going to kill you one way or another, I can help you kill him first” he tilts his head, lowering his gun thinking about what you said for a moment before pointing it against your temple this time making you suck in a harsh breath. 

“You’re gonna have to convince me more than that.” 

“He has something of me” You growl but decided to beg you can’t die today “please” you tell him softly he can detect the desperation in your voice. 

“How do I know you’re not gonna betray me?” 

“You’ll have to trust me” he isn’t pleased with that answer “I won’t be out of your sight, if you find me suspicious you can kill me.” you tell him truthfully, he licks his lips, lowering his gun and tucking it to his waist. 

“Help me get what’s mine and I’ll help you kill him.” you add he nods. Watching you straighten your back and gain your composure. 

“Who are you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“It does actually, you seem to know alot about him and vice versa, you must be so special to him that he blackmails you to make you stay.” you didn’t respond to him, peering out windows and checking the parameter before closing the curtains. 

“Ahh I know you” you stop in your tracks looking at Jungkook who’s already looking at you with a smirk on his face. Hands on his hips, he still hasn’t put back his shirt on exposing his v lines. “The Knight, that’s you, yes? Unknown name, unknown face, but very known for the works you’ve down for Mr. Kang, didn’t know you’d be a woman though” 

“Something wrong with being a woman?” 

“None I think it’s great, you’re great I’m a fan of your works” you shake your head of course he would know. You are Kang’s greatest weapon, he has made that clear with every enemy of his. You have taken down all the blockages he has faced, and facing. It was fun at first, the adrenaline of killing bad guys and watching them beg for their lives. But eventually you get tired of being boss around, risking your life, fighting for a fight that’s not even yours to begin with and that makes him angry. You are always in stealth mode, no one has come close to identifying you. Kang planned that from the moment you were born. He was ahead of his enemies, until you make sure he isn’t. He thought taking your brother hostage, the only precious thing your mother has left with you, was a good idea to keep you working for him, well he thought wrong and now he’s gonna pay for it. 

“I need to contact him, he needs to know I’m alive and you’re not so he won’t be suspicious.” he nods hesitating at first but eventually agreeing, 

“I’ll tell my team to fake my death and announce it through the people of the streets. Make it easier for him to believe you.” you watch him rummage through the cabinet that sits in the corner of the room. He puts on a black shit, his chest prominent, he catches you staring at him, looking away as you clear your throat. 

“Thank you” 

“Don’t thank me yet” 

-

“Shifting hours would be from 6 in the evening to 6 in the morning, we should be there at 4 they’d be tired and won’t see it coming” you tell the people around the table, a sketch of the mansion spread out on the wooden desk. You left the party with Jungkook, going to a more hidden place where you assume that this might be his home. 

“The package will be here, whoever gets there first will protect the package at all costs” Jungkook tells his team sternly, no wonder why he’s the leader, he’s got the potential and that look. Even with his stance alone he looks intimidating. “Get ready, make sure all your equipment is loaded” he nods at the crowd as they disperse outside the meeting room, leaving you and Jungkook alone. 

You look up at the ceiling sighing in frustration as anxiety starts to creep in. This needs to work. “You okay?” 

“No” you sit on the edge of the table looking at Jungkook who’s standing beside you. You flinch as he grabs both of your wrists, observing it before rubbing an ointment from god knows where. His warm hands calming you.

“I’m sorry about this” you didn’t even notice the marks on your skin until he says so, you pull your hands away, shaking your head as you chuckle lightly, 

“It’s fine” he’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. You pull the oversized coat closer to you body, it was given to you by Jungkook the moment you left the room, telling you he can’t have his team getting distracted by your body when your face is more than enough already which made you blush of course you didn’t let him see it.  

“I’ll let you rest, you can use the room upstairs on the left. No one will bother you there” He walks away from you, not giving you a second glance before you stop him. 

“Jungkook” he turns around waiting for you to continuum looking at you with the most gentle expression he has. “The package, it’s my brother, he’s only 4” you look down, biting your bottom lip, preventing yourself from breaking down right there and then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth only to close them, not knowing what to say as he watches you fiddle with the coat you have on. You walk towards where his figure is, standing in front of him as you stare at each other. 

“If all else fails, you have to save him. It’s him over me” the words feel bitter on your tongue, but it’s the reality you have to live with. It’s either Kang’s body or yours on the ground. You know him too well to even let you live for a second the moment he finds out about your plan. 

“You’ll both be okay” he assures, patting your shoulder, you shake your head you need to hear it from him 

“Promise me, you’ll protect him” 

“I promise, but can you at least tell me your real name?” he asks curiously you chuckle about how to respond but he’s already putting his hands up in defense “I know, i know only a one time thing yeah?” 

“Just tell me why he’s doing this to his own children, so I can make him suffer a little more” he gives you a small smile in which you return 

“y/n and it’s a long story” it takes him a second to process what you just said, before his grinning from ear to ear, his bunny teeth showing. He looks normal. He stares at the clock on the wall. 

“We still have 5 hours” and those 5 hours are filled with you and Jungkook talking about everything you can think of. He also shared his story. Listening to him made you realize you weren’t the only one with the same fate, you both shared some common interests. You tried your best not to spill everything, but for the first time, for some reason, with Jungkook it feels nice to talk and share about your life with. 

- 

“You ready?” you nod at Jungkook, watching everyone around you surround the house you grew up in. Making their way inside as quietly as possible with their guns. You can only trust Jungkook and his team that was set to rescue your brother. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll make it in time” He assures you, as if he’s able to read your mind. “We have to get to Kang first before, he gets suspicious” you make you way to the hallway, a couple of dead bodies on the ground hidden in the corner of the room, you look at Jungkook once you spot the guards, communicating with your eyes as the two guard walk to your direction, ready to leave their post

You jump on the guard, letting Jungkook take care of another one. You had the man on chokehold, using his body to cling on him to tighten your grip on his neck and squeeze the life out of the man. You hear him grunts, taking out his knife to stab your side. You hiss trying to ignore the pain as adrenaline pulses through your body. You made sure he had no time to scream for help. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, the other man following suit. 

You both creep out of the hallway, nodding at each other with pistol in hand before barging into your father’s office. The feeling of hatred and disgust every time you come inside is still the feeling you have now though you can’t ignore the small part of you that’s afraid of what this man can do. 

You pause looking at his silhouette, his back turned against you. “Ahh you’re here” he chuckles 

You walk closer to him pointing the gun at his head as he turns his chair around slowly, a light cigarette on his hand. His face shows now surprise as if he has been waiting for this moment.

“Great plan by the way. You look just like your father, a shame he’s not here to witness this” He grins tilting his head as he looks at Jungkook behind you. You tighten your grip to your gun, wanting to pull the trigger so badly. 

“Had a good night last night? You can thank me for that, she has you wrapped around her fingers no?” he teases, god you wish you could wipe off that smirk on his face right now. 

“I told you I was gonna kill didn’t I?” you give him a piercing look, maintaining a good distance from him in case he tries to fight back. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes before it turned back to pride. 

“I know I’ll get killed eventually, it was either you or one of my enemies.” he chuckles, puffing out smoke unbothered. “Daughter, I know you you can’t kill me” he challenges 

“No, but he can” you rush to his back, pinning his head on the table as you put cuffs behind his back and tie his legs on the chair in which he didn’t flinch. Jungkook is now standing in front of him with a gun pointed at his head. 

“Did you really think I didn’t plan this through? The moment he pulls the trigger you know you’ll be the one to take over and my enemies they’re going to come for you” he growls, you can’t help but feel a little weak over his threat because you know it’s the truth. Jungkook looks at your faltering figure tilting his head, motioning you to come over to him and you do so, purposely hiding behind his figure to compose yourself, you can’t show emotions now. 

“Goodbye Kang” 

“Oh I almost forgot, you might wanna have to check on that brother of yours, he should be drowning by now” He laughs you look at Jungkook with horror he mouths a “go’ before you’re sprinting towards the door 

“You like her boy? I bet she’s as delicious as her mothe-” 

“You disgusting old piece of shit.” the sound of a gunshot stops you in your tracks looking back at your father’s grin fading as his body goes limp on the floor. A loud thud is heard when his body hits the ground. One last look and your footsteps echo through the empty corridor, making your way to where your brother is supposed to be, passing through dead bodies on the way. 

Loud footsteps follow behind you. Your heart beats faster as you come to the scene. 

“Ji woo?” you yell brushing off the crowd that has formed. You hear Jungkook shouting make way , his team doing as he says. Your heart drops at the sight of a water tank, it’s not huge but huge enough for a 4 year-old to drown. Eyes frantically looking for a small figure. 

“Y/n” you gasp at the voice, eyes stopping at your brother who’s currently in the arms of one of Jungkook’s men. A towel wrapped around his small body. 

“We got him out before the water reached his waist” you nod, thanking the man before scooping your brother out of his arms. You enfold him into a hug, his small arms circling around your neck as he sobs. 

“It was scary, yes?” he only sobs harder, if your mother was here this wouldn't happen in the first place, she won’t even get to see him grow and fall in love. You feel pity for both of your brother and mother. If only you could have saved them both sooner. “I’m here now it’s okay” you rub his back, hoping it will give him more warmth. 

You grunt as his knee bumps your side, Jungkook notices your pain observing your side before reaching his hands out to get Ji woo. “You’re bleeding” 

“I’m fine” Jungkook only shakes his head because of your stubbornness. 

“If you want to live and stay with him, then let them check that wound.” You sigh in defeat, handing over Ji woo to Jungkook, he was scared at first but Jungkook gives him a genuine smile and a nod of encouragement. 

“Can you be my brother forever?” Ji woo asks innocently, his eyes widening in curiosity as he looks at Jungkook who’s carrying him in his hips. 

“Of course” they both giggle, Jungkook brushing his nose to his. You walk side by side, going straight to the medics with your wound. It didn’t hurt earlier but now it definitely hurts like a bitch. 

“We need to check him too, he might develop hypothermia” you nod reassuring Ji woo that you’ll see him again soon before Jungkook hands him over to the professionals. He stays beside you, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the space in front him. 

“You okay?” 

“H-huh of course” you nod, watching the paramedic tend to your wound, gritting your teeth in pain. 

“Just a few stitches, it’s not deep.” you lay down on their bed, Jungkook sitting beside you. You grab on the bed as you receive the local anesthesia to numb your side. It isn’t long before you’re done with your stitches. Now you’re looking at the place that has been your home and nightmare at the same time. 

“The bodies have been taken care of, and they’re in the process of cleaning up the blood and such. Your father will be buried too, do you wanna know where?” 

“No” 

“That’s fine, if you want to continue to live here I can have my team clean out everything, save the things you want to save.” save the things you want to save. There’s none. All the things that belonged to your mother had been burned by Kang, she now only exists in your memory and your brother is the only reminder that she’s been here. 

“Just burn the house” You see him looking at you in your peripheral vision, completely taken aback by your statement. You’re going to start over .

“About what he said earlier, if anyone comes for you or if you need help-” you’re thankful for Jungkook, but you can’t afford any more losses. Meeting him in the future will only mean danger for the both of you. 

“Thank you Jungkook, but we won’t need it. I will not continue my father’s doing” you tell him honestly, giving him a small smile. For now, you will leave as far away as possible from this place with your brother, it will be hard hiding from the others who want your head but you can worry about that later. 

“Will we see each other again?” you feel your heart skips a beat

“A one time thing, remember?” you both laugh wholeheartedly, pausing as you stare at each other. 

“Goodbye y/n”

“Goodbye Jungkook” 

¯¨’*·~-.¸¸,.-~*’ •·.·´¯`·.·• `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.· •´`·..íì..·´`• 

taglist : @beebahbarbie  

#jjk smut #Smut #jungkook smut #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jungkook fic #jjk imagines #bts imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine

[scuttlingcrab]

The Devil's Archive

Behold! All the Raphael fiction I've written so far.

I think of each story as a writing exercise and opportunity to grow, so I feel (and hope!) my pieces have gotten better since the initial fic.

I am always open to receiving prompts and getting more inspiration. The day I stop writing about Raphael will be a sad day indeed, and I don't intend on that happening any time soon.

In regards to the types of prompts:

I love everything focused on Raphael - from prompts about Raphael being a magnificent bastard, his internal monologues on various aspects throughout his dealings, to Raphael x Tav, Raphael's life in the Hells, etc.

I haven't done any NSFW, Durge, or Haarlep prompts yet, BUT I am always open to receiving them! It might take a while to churn those out, but I love devouring them and will try my best.

Miscellaneous

The Stranger

Bored at a party, Raphael seeks a delicious new soul.

A Night at the Symphony

Raphael goes to the symphony to check in on a client.  

Too Close for Comfort

What happens when Tav gets a little too close to the devil?

No Time for Love

Don't wish Raphael a Happy Valentine's Day...

Late Night Intruders

Tav thwarts an assassination attempt against Raphael during the wee hours of the morning. And from Raphael's perspective, everything is going according to plan.

A Perfect Fit

Raphael receives an unexpected gift from Tav.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Hangover from Hell

Raphael wakes up with a hangover, only to find Tav sleeping on his chest. He desperately tries to make sense of the entire situation.

Dance with the Devil

Raphael attends the annual Baldur's Gate Masquerade Ball and accidentally runs into his little mouse.

Shadowy Deals

Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

The Devil's Muse

Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Fiendish Rewards

Raphael appears at Withers' party, hoping to finally collect the Crown of Karsus from Tav. However, an unexpected turn of events causes Raphael to re-think his plans.

A Devil's Lament

Raphael brings Tav to an abandoned chapel, hoping to complete one final task before he begins his conquests of the Hells.

Inferna Victoria

With the help of Tav, Raphael fights against Zariel for his seat in Avernus. Much to Raphael's dismay, the fight ends up being more difficult than he anticipated.

Trial by Fire

Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Mortals

Mortals is a collection of short stories about Raphael, where he meets various mortals who have impacted him someway or another throughout his existence, loosely tying into the main plot of Baldur's Gate 3. Each story is stand-alone.

The Curse of Lady Luck

Raphael calls upon his old friend, a priest, who he reluctantly made a deal with many years ago.

A Warlock is Born

Korrilla summons Raphael to aid her in a fight at the Devil’s Fee. Raphael recruits a new warlock to his cause.

A Warlock's Sacrifice

Raphael seeks the aid of his prized warlock after he finds an intruder has broken into his House of Hope. Raphael confronts Tav in the aftermath of combat.

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #bg3 #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav

[teddie-bear420]

Swap Au!! I call it “cold hazbin hotel”

Emily moonstone wants to redeem sinners and get to heaven with the help of her butler lute!

Lots of doodles and ramblings under the cut,

if you have any input or jokes or questions send them to me!!

So this swap starts at the very beginning! Lucifer is a big goodie two shoes who doesn’t express his real feelings and is kinda just heavens doormat. Sera on the other hand is driven by fairness and when she sees Adam mistreating Lilith she intervenes. This gets her sent down to hell with Lilith and they start ruling hell with all the sinners. At some point both Lilith and sera stop caring about the state of hell and the sinners establish the overlords that rule territory’s and all that. Around the time that Emily is born sinners like alastor and husk are well established overlords.

Back in heaven, corruption spreads to leadership and Lucifer (as head archangel) kinda just lets it happen. He still runs the show but he doesn’t stand up for what he believes in anymore. Very weak man, thin wrists… dainty even. Adam is still the general of the Exorcist army and nobody holds any one accountable in heaven and the requirements to get into heaven are raised to in unachievable amount!

Sera and Emily are very close, they talk almost everyday, when Emily starts to grow into an adult sera kinda panics and strains the relationship (Emily’s got mommy issues). Emily’s time spent in sin city leads her to starting the hotel with the Dino chick to hinder the overpopulation in hell (jk she just really wants to see heaven)

So Emily is the heir to a stolen kingdom

Lucifer still has Charlie in heaven and she fills Emily’s role of keeping everyone happy. In this swap he shelters Charlie for any hardships or even having her work for anything, so Charlie is a nepotism baby (in the normal show Charlie went no contact with her dad and built the hotel ground up) her job is to keep everyone joyful!

Charlie is ignorant to the horrors

Vaggie and lute are a little harder to explain cuz I still have no real idea how to approach making lute a sinner cuz uhh.. she already is one. I do know I wanna keep her antennae bangs…Pink to blue….Bug motif…Transition allegory?? You decide

Lute will probably have butler butch vibes, she’s very servant like

But! I see vaggie getting to second in command and becoming a beast. The most ruthless demon slayer ever man, she fights the biggest demons she can find just for the fun of it. She still bulks up (you can take buff vaggie from my cold dead hands)!! She is assigned to protect the arch angel Charlie from quote…

“naughty individuals” -Lucifer (he means Adam)

Their dynamic is very silly, vaggie has to keep Charlie safe from things like assassins, perverts, technology and a goose. We all know that lute struck vaggie down cuz she was gay right? Well that still happens, but vaggie wins the fight (also being egged on by Adam) and ever since she’s looked for a fight so bad she ends up joining lute (warriors bond and all that)

EMILY IS A LAWYER HAHAHAHAHHA AND A BUTCH

Basically she wants to change the heaven standard the lawful way (sera was a court judge after all) think musicals like legally blond, that one Hamilton song, and the death note musical.

She and Charlie get along well enough, it does gag Emily when she finds out that Charlie doesn’t know what a minimum wage job is.

Ok so the main cast gets swapped with the over lords as you can see, the overlords I chose now look much younger, tho carmilla and Rosie are my milfs forever. Velvet is now an intern trying to get out of hell (she hates the heat) vox is now kinda just an obsessive fan boy, carmilla wants to go to heaven to see her daughters again. That Dino chick is the first guest, Emily wants to tame her inner fire (girl style)

Emily has always wanted to see the garden of Eden, so when she comes up with a way to redeem sinners she hopes to visit heaven with them! I’m gonna doodle around with her demon bits,

THATS IT FOR NOW

Will maybe post more

#teddz stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin hotel emily #charlie x vaggie #lute x emily #swap au #cold hazbin hotel

[raayllum]

Gift Giving & Primal vs First Elves :: Or Going Off Into the Deep Lore Deep End

Remember that meta I compiled about Greek mythology, deceptive gift giving, and TDP? Yeah it's time to talk about the gift motif properly as well as some other deep lore things because these excellent thoughts ( @spicyviren, @kradogsrats, and @its-leethee) got the wheels in my brain spinning.

AKA an unknown amount of sectioned word vomit into the nature of magic, where it comes from, how deep magic operates, some gifts and motifs, and Leola, just a little.

Let's go.

Gift Motif

The gift motif is one that's a bit of a slowburn in TDP. While characters will often pass and hand over objects — tools, artefacts, metaphorical responsibilities or trust (handing over the egg, for example) — to one another, there's not a big emphasis on gifts in the first three seasons.

There are some, such as Callum's letter from Harrow (that he's given by Claudia once again initially as a goodbye), Ezran giving Bait to Barius in S3, and Rayla's family pendant, but most of these, as you've might already noticed, are contextualized within Goodbyes. Whether the gift motif will amount in arc 2 to escaping this "final gift" context remains to be seen, but that's how it tends to work in interpersonal relationships.

There is an element of peace offering in hoping that returning Zym — a gift and/or gesture of good will — will help usher in peace, but I think (as of now at least) that ties further into the series' theme of Reciprocal Exchange (the assassin mission being an eye for an eye vs olive branch for olive branch) than outright gift giving. (Although we will probably talk about Exchange and gift giving at some point because there is also a thematic tether there.)

However, there is one other thing that is more and more often referred to as a gift in Arc 1, and that's Magic. Specifically, dark magic.

Now, this actually isn't that dissimilar from what the Goodbye gifts amount to, either. In Harrow's letter, he gifts Callum the Key of Aaravos believing it to be a powerful magical relic of some kind; Rayla's pendant makes its way from Ethari to her to Callum, who then uses it for magical purposes; and Bait, as a glow toad, is connected to an arcanum himself.

I do think it's noteworthy though that in Arc 1, (dark) magic being a gift is emphasized upon, specifically because of these lines for Khessa:

Upon first watching it back in 2019, it made sense that dark magic would be referred to this way, even when I just thought maybe it was that humans had been given 'nothing,' as Claudia says. Dark magic is closely tied to ideas of theft and thievery — stealing magic from others to harness its power for yourself — and the series is deeply interested in concepts of ownership or who has 'true' ownership over something, in magic, a throne/crown, a price to pay, etc. This follows neatly into Arc 2 (for ex: why Karim seeking to steal the Sun Seed is a metaphorical dark path even if it didn't outright involve dark magic through Kim'Dael), which we'll build on later.

That said, given the depth of the knowledge at the Great Bookery that is open to Sunfire elves more than any other type of elf, and the information that Tales of Xadia and Ripples gives us...

While elves warned that if humans were meant to wield magic they would have been born with it, [Leola] gifted the wisest humans with secrets: the language of the dragons and the runes that shaped spells. With the unicorn’s gift, the most determined minds among the humans could finally harness primal magic.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters [...] Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. And so there came a calamity.

It makes it more than likely than, unlike other elves such as Lujanne or Ibis, Khessa had reason to believe/know that there used to be primal human mages in the past... and that it wasn't 'enough' for them ultimately, because they still hungered and developed (and were given?) dark magic. "Your kind could not be satisfied with what you were given" was about the rejection of primal magic from Leola (the unicorns) in favour of a darker kind that involves theft and "dirtying yourself" (5x08) with dark magic.

But at the same time, this complicates the Gift Giving motif of including not just dark magic, but being also for primal magic — for humans, at least.

And also for elves. (Ignoring how "great orb" is very similar to "great one" for now.)

Janai: It was a gift. But there's more to it than that. The great orb began as this. Karim: This is... a sun seed?

Now, the Great Orb being grown from a Sun 'literal' seed makes sense. We've known for a long time that in Xadia, "magic is everywhere. It's just part of the vibrance or spirit of things" (1x05). Primal magic naturally occurring in plants, animals, and elves likewise makes sense on that note. Just as not "many could bear the gruelling path of a rune mage," Karim cannot bear to have patience and faith in something that will only come to fruition centuries later.

That said, I raise the question: how functionally different is the Great Orb from say, a sun primal stone would hypothetically be? If primal stones and primal magic were gifts to humanity from unicorns — from creatures connected to the Star arcanum, for lack of a better understanding — then why not magic from Startouch (?) elves to other elves.

How do we know that all magic isn't simply a gift that was given once upon a time?

From the First Elves to the Primal Elves.

Primal vs First Elves

So what's the difference between First Elves and Primal elves?

Well we have a few pieces of lore:

1) Zubeia's status as a "heavenly majesty" (which we'll come back to in the next section) gives her authority to speak in the name of the first elves, who are effectively gods to humankind and/or Xadians ("Have our Gods died? / Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?" —the Epic of the Void

2) It seems that the First Elves are, as of now and for a while, exclusively in reference to what would otherwise be called Startouch elves, although the latter is seemingly a name that came later given Rayla's affirmation of "ancient legends". This is reaffirmed in Tales of Xadia's two lone mention of First Elves:

No group of elves presents a greater mystery than the Startouch elves. Sometimes called the First Elves, those bound to the Star primal are rumored to have made great marks on Xadia’s ancient history—but beyond story and legend, little real evidence is left to us today [...] Among the few extant records of Startouch elves are the Scrolls of the First Elves, now kept in the Great Bookery of Lux Aurea.

3) At a post-S2 con in 2019 (how's that for a far reach?) we got a timeline of the events of Xadia laid out for us. The description of the very first piece of history and era we know of goes as follows, with the Rise of Elarion happening 2000 years ago re: the Dragon Prince era ("The Return of Aaravos"):

The Era of the First elves is the first recorded era 5,000 years prior to the current era. Dragons and elves were not allied during this period. There were no distinct primal elves. This is an era before all that. Humans suffered during this period. 

—2019 con timeline

4) Justin and Aaron reaffirm this at the 2:30 ish minute mark of this video (a couple of months before even S3 was released) by reaffirming distinctly to Primal elves. Later (7:40-ish mark) we see this distinction reaffirmed again through the statement of, "The patterns have been that these primal based elves have grown cultures and civilizations that have become separate and differentiated from kind of whatever the early days were with the First elves were."

Okay, so there was 100% a time where there were only First Elves, and humans, and Primal elves as we knew them (maybe still with the hands and horns, but no arcanum? Or no singular, distinct arcanum) didn't exist. Why does this matter?

This is where the deep lore timeline gets tricky, as we don't know precisely when 1) humans received magic and 2) at what stage the First Elves / Great Ones / Startouch elves 'left' Xadia, only that they did, apparently, when Elarion (the human city) needed help: "Elarion, unworthy whelp / Wept as the stars turned black the sky / They donned their masks / They turned their backs / And left Elarion to die". Why abandon the city (beyond indifference/cruelty as Aaravos would likely claim), who knows.

However, we can assume the timeline looks something like this:

Era of the First Elves

Primal elves (and presumably archdragons *) are crafted / develop into being, whatever that means

Humans are magic-less and are having a bad time

Unicorns / Leola extend sympathy despite the fact that the First Elves tell her not to (Book One: Novelization / Tales of Xadia)

Humans have primal magic (Ripples / Tales of Xadia)

This attracts negative attention, consolidated in Elarion ("the stars she asked their light to cast / and stop the dragons’ fiery might" / "as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted")

Elarion asks for help and the Stars leave

Aaravos, the last star — presumably already Fallen from the First Elves — gives them dark magic under the guise of protection even though it will inevitably help him (i.e. give him the ability to possess people)

Dark magic replaces primal magic as the primary form for humans

Tension and violence escalates (unicorns are hunted to near extinction). Sol Regem is removed as King of the Dragons

Under Dragon Queen Luna Tenebris, the daughter of an elven leader suggests the Judgement of the Half-Moon, causing for humans to be banished rather than eradicated, and the continent split in two

Again, nothing too crazy / not too much we haven't already known or guessed at for a while.

But like I said, I'm gonna propose two theories, so bear with me:

Theory #1: What is Deep Magic?

The First Elves engaged with what we're gonna call Deep or Old Magic, for lack of a better term. There can be an assumption at times that this magic would be more 'pure' or less 'diluted' than dark magic or even the primal magic we've seen on screen. However, I think that's less than likely. Dark magic is often times a bad path for good outcomes, and primal magic can be a 'good' magic for bad outcomes (the blood freezing spell, for example).

While dark magic is a more textually malevolent magic system and primal magic is more true neutral — able to be used as a tool and a source of connection for the user — I don't think this necessarily means that Deep Magic is inherently enlightening (we see with the Ocean arcanum and S5 that knowledge can be an immense burden) or that it's on the opposite end of the spectrum and is outright benevolent.

What, then, am I suggesting Deep Magic to be? Well, we have some clues likewise from the same old interview post-s2 that we haven't had much basis to (potentially) understand until now, in which it's stated:

Deeper magic and deeper gifts that the original beings received [...] practical, usable, powerful magic is drawn from the six primal sources, right? But there is this idea that there's this earlier, less differentiated power kind of magic that's deeper and more - I don't kind of want to say what all of them are. It's not that important now, it has more to do with the history of beings and their interactions with each other. But Aaravos cares about some of this stuff. The best I can say is that one of them's Power — but well, what does that mean?

The six primal sources — potentially just five (hence why only 5 gemstones seem to occur naturally in nature, and Star seemingly doesn't) — are all based around physical, somewhat tangible principles. Earth, Ocean, Sun (fire/light), Sky (wind/weather) are perhaps the most tangible, with only Moon dipping into something into something more metaphysical: illusions and questioning the nature of reality, the nature of death, etc. However, I'd argue that the Moon arcanum's emphasis on death still makes it something that is particularly important to creatures who are mortal (but more on that later).

What I am arguing for is then, therefore, that Deep Magic is magic drawn from Concepts and Ideas > tangible things found in nature or parts of other magical creatures.

Three concepts, to be exact: (translated dark magic screenshot from Cartoon Universe spells reversed).

Zubeia: He chose as his instruments those who had strong hearts and strong minds, but who had an insatiable thirst and fascination with magic (power).

Three quasar diamonds, three deep magic concepts. Heart, Mind, Power.

("To know something truly and deeply, you must know it with your head, hand, and heart. Mind, body, and spirit." / "She laid before me her scales, her blindfold, and her sword, and told me to choose.")

Now, I don't know if it's these three concepts exactly — I could Truth, or Justice, or something like that — or even if it's three. But given what little we know about Deep magic thus far and how much the series' likes its threes, I think that's the likeliest number and combination.

We've known for a while that there's something weird with the connection between dark magic, spells that use blood, and 'star' magic. We know it's unlikely that Aaravos being able to possess people who have used dark magic was just a happy accident discovered after humans started using it. We know that when Callum is offered the dark magic version of the cube in his dreams, the symbol is blood red: "You can have unlimited power." And that dark magic "became the key that unlocked a place of power for humans in Xadia" (Tales of Xadia).

So what if dark magic stems from the vein of Deep magic that's taken from the concept of Power? What if when Aaravos offered his pawns "unlimited" Power, or when Kpp'Ar accused Viren of (potentially using star magic) "making the same choice you always made: the one that gives you Power," they meant it?

Alternatively, this could mean that most other Startouch elves — their longevity, their indifference — comes from the vein of Mind and subsequent intellectual detachment? Enough intelligence and reason not to hunger for more (Power), but not enough compassion and empathy to sympathize with others (Heart).

And it would also tie into Leola being unique among her own kind for her heart taking pity on the humans, and giving them primal magic — perhaps in the vein of Heart, if we're keeping things consistent — and why love ("To know something truly and deeply [...] I love you with all of myself, and I always will" / "To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep") has been consistently tied to Callum unlocking arcanums. The "Narrative of Strength (power)" vs "Narrative of Love" being even more literal than we thought.

This wouldn't be too out of line since Moon arcanum philosophy already borrows heavily from Plato's idea of the forms/reality (Plato's allegory of the cave, anyone?) and the forms basically mean "your imagined ideal of the object in your mind is going to be more perfect than any tangible, 'real' version of the object could ever be." That being applied to living beings who are literally in the sky would track a certain amount, in addition to the idea that however primal magic is set up in Xadia right is "the whole world is like a giant primal stone; sky magic is all around us, and it's also in me, with every breath we take." But I digress.

With the distinction of Deep Magic as 1) separate and a sea that flows into the primal as well as 2) older and earlier than primal magic, now onto the next theory:

Theory #2: First elves and the Archdragons?

Now admittedly this one is more speculative since beyond knowing 1) the First elves = what we'd call Startouch elves, 2) the rest of them except Aaravos 'left' Xadia a while ago, and 3) the aforementioned possible 'Mind' deep magic thing, we very quickly run out of set knowledge into full blown speculation. Beyond

With that in mind, I wanna talk about the... weirdness, I suppose, between the Archdragons / draconic royal family and the First Elves.

There's a few notes to this: we know that Ancient Draconic is the language of primal magic, indicating that dragons existed and presumably had primal magic before elves did, and that elves had to be given that linguistic knowledge at least to a certain degree.

Then we also have the way Zubeia is referred to being mirrored with the way she describes Aaravos later:

Likewise, the one person/creature we've seen referred to as a god outside the Epic of the Void poem is Avizandum by Harrow (bonus points for the game motif of "entire armies have fallen like toys" because of him):

Bloodmoon Huntress also asserts that from an elven point of view (or at least Lain and Tiadrin, and presumably Runaan, too) that "Dragons are the lifeblood, the very core of Xadia" and generally assumed that dragons have the most powerful connection to their individual primal sources.

So I'd be willing to wager (esp since Sol Regem is at least 1,2000+ years old) that Archdragons at least once upon a time had been contemporaries of the First Elves if not peers. What and why that connection exists and how relevant it is for today, I don't know, but I do think there's something there, especially since the one example we have of a First Elf-Dragon relationship in Aaravos, Avizandum, and Zubeia, was perceived to be positive somewhat on all sides — a matter of trust on his end (in order to be "betrayed") and a matter of reverence and importance on theirs; "admired and loved by all" / "you meant something to him".

There is also something to be said for the Archdragons being the most powerful embodiment of the primal sources (alongside maybe some rare and noteworthy elves, like Queen Aditi) still being "unable to risk a direct confrontation" with only one singular and Fallen Startouch elf. What would a whole slew of them at the height of their power look like? (And yet it is implied that the Nova Blade is "ivory draconic" so... maybe you just have to get a First Elf close enough to the mouth to be consumed / bitten? Or perhaps the Nova Blade is made from the tooth/claw of a 'Star' arcanum dragon.)

TLDR; it's looking more and more like Startouch elves as we understand them and First Elves in generally are — while emotive and feeling the way humans and elves are — something very different from anything else we've seen thus far in terms of knowledge and power skill, and that distinction is only going to be made more and more apparent as the story goes on.

Theory #3: Where do we go from here?

So if Deep Magic is distinct from Primal, and is distinct from 2/3 kinds of Deep Magic in dark magic (derived from 5-primal and Power deep magic thoughts)... where do we go from here, magically speaking?

Well, the important thing to note is that the story has given us some thematic clues. Aaravos is concerned with exile and power, both things we see thematically most represented by human characters (with some elven exceptions like Karim and Kim'Dael). The other Star touch elves are very on brand for "Xadian exile" as their favourite punishment as well as extreme isolationism ("I knew I had to be strong alone" etc). Therefore, whatever answer we give Magically also has to reconcile these issues from a thematic and character based standpoint.

It seems like a switch of where people are concentrating energy — for Startouch elves and humans — needs to have a drastic shift to one of the other veins/concepts of deep magic that will hopefully heal the rifts. If Aaravos is Power (humans) and the others are 'Mind' (Xadian indifference/isolation and banishment) for lack of a better idea, then subverting that binary and shifting more to a third 'Love' path seems to be very on brand for TDP. Holding both at the same time but being guided by a higher principle of peace and harm reduction is what Ezran's 4x03 speech is all about, after all.

Something something both Xadia and magic and the First Elves being reunited with Xadia / humanity and elvenkind as TDP's endgame, something something.

Other Gift Giving Thoughts

The other thing I wanna talk about now that everything else is laid out is how gifts are Given, in TDP. We see time and time again relationships and magic systems being framed on the idea of whether they are giving, taking, both in a bad way or in a good way. There seems to be two main indicators for gift giving, therefore, either that in the receiver is worthy, or that the exchange is going to be reciprocal.

At its best, a gift works as intended.

Humans (and elves?) are given primal magic and generally use it for exploration and to care for themselves / one another The sun seed is given to the Sunfire elves, but they must nurture it. Callum gives Rayla her father's bow and she uses it to protect them. Callum achieves enlightenment and understanding of him and is rewarded with primal magic twice, even if the Ocean in particular is a bit murkier than he'd probably like. Gifts and belongings are relinquished or restored for freedom, for hope, for peace.

Here we have to wonder if Leola's Last Wish reconciles both the Goodbye gift motif and the gift of Magic motif, possibly resulting in the gift of the sun seed or more likely something to do with primal magic / alleviate the fallout of dark magic's consequences.

For example, to get an answer from Rex Igneous — a seeming wealth of knowledge — you have to give him a worthy gift that is also a sacrifice of some kind, according to Nath'an.

However, Ezran points out the major flaw in this line of thinking, as "We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." Not everyone is going to value the same thing or think the same thing is worth the price that was paid.

We see this interpersonally most with the mage fam ("Maybe the world would be better off without magic" from Soren, whose life was saved with it) and with Rayla and Callum (as Rayla's gift of sacrifice by leaving is something Callum did not want and rightfully did not receive well, alongside her moonstone pendant). Again: what is defined as worthy, or worthiness, is in the eye of the beholder.

Just like one of the initial thoughts that inspired this meta, Khessa asserts that dark magic is a magic that "takes" > being reciprocal for both parties, nevermind a gift. The irony, however, runs a bit deeper, as Aaravos thinks the same of his fellow stars:

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. No, the stars do not know patience, for they have no need for it. The stars want for nothing, and take all to their liking.

And we see this idea of a 'false gift' show up time and time again in the series. Nyx pretends to offer passage but actually wants to steal Zym; Rayla's act of love in leaving is a curse upon Callum's heart and wellbeing; dark magic itself is a false trade of sorts, given how unevenly it tips scales in Aaravos' favour and how much it ruins both the environment and body of its caster.

[The elven thief Lasair] never saw the precious blossoms fade and turn to cold ashes when exposed to the dawn. They never learned their gift was perceived as a curse, not a trade. 

—Tales of Xadia

Kim'Dael goes to Queen Aditi under false pretences ("The Queen's Mercy") but the gift that Aditi gives her is nothing good at all:

What pretty bauble, she wondered, had she tricked the queen into forging as a token of protection? What could be powerful enough to ward away the wrath of dragons?

Just as humans sought the stars' help to protect them from the ire of the dragons, Kim'Dael sought Aditi's. And just as Aaravos offered them a false magic that would protect and ultimately trap/destroy then, so does Aditi, with magic that doesn't seem to be entirely dark or primal:

“But know this: the binding around your neck—it is made with magic not unlike your own. It is a magic that demands, that takes."

A form of magic even maybe that demands sacrifice for that kind of Power.

You could almost say it's something Deeper.

Conclusion

Hope you enjoyed going completely off the rails with me, and that this long (winded) post got you thinking! I'll probably do a followup discussing the implications of what we have here for potential Laurelion-Aaravos later. In the meantime, take the fruits of my labour, and spin your own hamster wheels if you'd like.

#the dragon prince #tdp #tdp meta #gift motif #analysis series #dark magic #primal magic #worldbuilding #analysis #deep lore dive #i'm also pretty sure aaravos or someone got cast out bc of the primal magic thing too #stars wanted a punishment of some kind. yeah #but more on that later #something something 'but this isn't true strength. it's only power'

[starfreak]

Random Elden Ring Rant (Contains Spoilers, VERY LONG)

So, the Numen. We can choose it as a character preset, which tells us they come from another world, or another land. I say "or another land" because historically, America is referred to as the "New World," but it's not a separate planet. However, translations from the Japanese version of the game suggest that the world they come from is one of spirits, the dead, etc., so it could definitely be a Literal other world.

Marika is (rumored to be) a Numen, as are the Black Knife Assassins that participated in the Night of Black Knives.

If Marika is Numen, then it stands to reason so is Radagon, since they are the same person in the same body. This means their children together, Malenia and Miquella (and now presumably Messmer since he has red hair like Radagon, but Miyazaki said that he's the child of Marika, so unless there's another red-haired hottie running around the Lands Between, Radagon is the father), are also Numen. This also means that other children of Marika/Radagon are half-Numen.

It seems Numen are not a single ethnicity, but a whole race of people, with various different contradicting skin tones and hair colors. The template in the character creator has medium-dark skin and brown hair. Marika has pale skin and golden hair (possibly changed to be gold from the Greater Will's influence) and Radagon has the same skin with fiery red hair. We know from the Giant's Red Braid item description (below) that Radagon was either cursed by the Fire Giants or simply born with red hair. I mean...no item descriptions suggest he was born with it...but if I was born with hair I hated, I would blame it on a curse too. Though, to be fair, it IS the same color as the Fire Giants' hair.

Also the Black Knife Assassins have no physical form, so we can't discern their hair or skin colors.

So skin tone seems like a non-factor, but Hair is much harder to parse, due to half the Numen in the game having fiery hair and pronouns. The game says nothing about Marika's hair changing to gold, so it may have always been that color, leading me to believe that indeed, Numen are just...magic humans from a land far away...she's just blonde.

WELP.

That's all cool, but what is the culture of the Numen like? Well we can see that they have a very strong affinity for women and femininity. Not only is Marika, the most powerful Numen we know, a woman...all of the Black Knives are women. Additionally, if we choose to believe that Malenia and Miquella are Numen, this fact is further evidenced by Malenia's being a strong warrior woman (she is literally a Valkyrie) and Miquella's own complex gender identity. Miquella was (supposedly) born male, but presented as rather feminine/androgynous all his life. While Malenia is a masculine woman and reflects Radagon, Miquella is a feminine boy reflecting Marika. Not to mention that Miquella is ALMOST DEFINITELY Saint Trina, who is exclusively referred to as feminine.

In addition to the stong feminine aspects of Numen society apparent in the overabundance of strong fem-presenting characters, the description of Marika's Hammer suggests that women in Numen society (like Marika) have a role as destroyers and warriors, while men (Radagon) have a role of construction and repair.

"Queen Marika shattered the Elden Ring and Radagon attempted to repair it."

Again, this is just speculation, and the mythological actions of Radagon/Marika are likely motivated by a mutlitude of things (namely, the Greater Will constantly looming over them, the presence of the Elden Beast constantly lurking just under the surface), but I'm making do with what I have.

Also, back to genetics of the Numen again for a second, of all Radagon and Marika's children outside of the ones they had together (Messmer and the Twin Empyreans), most of them seem to inherit Radagon/Marika's hair.

Radagon and Rennala's kids, Radahn, Rykard, and Ranni, (presumably) have red hair. We never actually see Ranni's hair pre-doll form, so I'm assuming it's red lkke her brothers'.

Marika and Godfrey's kids, Godwyn, Mohg, and Morgott, all have either pale hair or no hair (Mohg has no hair visible on account of all the omen horns).

So it seems like the genes of Numen are incredibly dominant, even dominating the gene pool multiple generations after the first. Godwyn's kids, Godrick and Godefroy, have the same hair color as he does. Malenia's "daughters," although not genetically related to her, all seem to have gained her red hair through exposure to her Scarlet Aeonia. This may also be true of the Cleanrot Knights, but they could also have plucked the red hairs from Fire Giants or Leonine Misbegotten and used them as decor for their armor.

Even merely interacting with a Numen as powerful as Marika, or her direct children, can change one's appearance irreversably. Sure, this could all likely be from her status as a God, but who knows how powerful the average Numen could become if granted the strength? We become Elden Lord after all.

#elden ring #messmer the impaler #malenia blade of miquella #miquella the unalloyed #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring theory #numen #radagon of the golden order #marika #greater will #erdtree #elden ring lore #mohg lord of blood #morgott the omen king #godfrey the first elden lord #godwyn the golden #ranni the witch #rennala queen of the full moon #praetor rykard #starscourge radahn #godrick the grafted #godefroy the grafted #saint trina

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

The Hazbin Timeline

I'm just making a timeline list of the Hazbin Hell residents biological and death ages. It's fun and interesting to see who is around who time period and such.

It might make help fanfic writers with backstories to know who existed at what time.

Im making the "current" date in the Hazbin universe 2019 as that's when The pilot aired.

Oldest: Lucifer. Existed before the dawn of mankind.

Adam: First man, existed since the dawn of mankind

Lilith: First woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind.

Eve: Second woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind, after Lilith.

Zestial: Information unknown beside oldest overlord, but going by his Shakespearean speech, death around the 1600's making him about 400 years old.

Possibly witness in his lifetime: Mary, Queen of Scots, executed for treason by order of Queen Elizabeth I, Galileo's experiments, Pilgrims from England arrive at Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the Mayflower.

Charlie: Appears to be in her 20s but

Despite her youthful appearance, it appears that Charlie's age is a matter of question. Although Vivziepop thinks that Charlie does celebrate birthdays with the standard kind of party, she is still unsure of how demon years and time work for someone like Charlie. In a later stream, Vivziepop stated that demons age in "hell years"] This may hint that Charlie's biological aging is different from how humans age, although it is unknown if hell years are similar in length to Earth years.

In one of the Hazbin Hotel pilot teasers, a portrait of the Magne family taken in the year 1871 hints that Charlie is decades older than she appears. Although this detail is omitted in the final version of the pilot, Faustisse has corroborated that Charlie is over 200 years old.

Rosie: Tricky, giving by her preferred time period, her death would be about 1890ish and her birth near 1850s-1860s making her 170 years old BUT Faustisse stated Rosie never died, suggesting that she was born in Hell. Which may subject to change as the show progress but if she's Hell born, they grow slower. So if we doing the same math as Charlie, she been around for 400 years. Which is similar to Zestial but not mention she on par with him in age so I think her being Hellborn not going to be finalized in canon. Rosie human age would be a little older if not similar to Alastor mother ages which is probably why he so easily bonds with her along with similar interest.

Sir Pentious: Biologically 40s, deceased 1888 making his soul 170is years old. His birth year is in the 1840s (This guy live through over 100 exterminations, and turf wars and challenging Alastor?)

Witness in his lifetime. The great famine in Ireland, the great Chicago fire, the pony express, the civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Carmilia: Going with my headcanon that Carmilla was the lead ballerina in swan lake. Swan lake composed in 1877. Also, we have to consider her daughters to figure her death as I think they all died the same day. One of them goes by the name Clara...which is character in the nutcracker composed in 1892. So their deaths are after that date. Swan lake had a revival at 1895 so we just making their deaths at that time for sake of making it easy. Carmilla is vibing near 40 but I wouldn't push her past that as I think it be tough to be a 40 year old ballerina in the late 1800's. So her birth year is 1860s So I'm just going to guess her age be no older then 35 making her soul 160ish.

Her daughters being little after that. Being 150ish years old.

Witness in his lifetime. The civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the great Chicago fire, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Tom Trench: Biologically in his 40s, died 1910-1920s. Assumed during ww1 making his birth year late 1870s. His soul being around 150ish years old.

Alastor: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. So being born just smidge before the turn of 1900s. His death is 1933. Making his soul about 120 years old.

He witnessed 3 states included in the Us (up at 48 at his death) Wright brothers flight, Titanic sink, WW1, Great depression, Woman can vote, and prohibition.

Husk: Biologically 60-70, to make is simple 65. his death in the 1970s. Making his birth year about 1910's. About a decade after Alastors birth. Husker soul age about 110 years old. Husker has nearly the same timeline as Alastor and Angel except Husker lived an additional 40-50 years. Husk is about 10 year difference between both Alastor and Angel in either direction. So Husker being one the very few characters who lived a full life could at some point crossed paths with most of the characters in his living life, especially its been noted he was a world traveler to increase those odds. Alastor, Mimzy, Angel, Vox, Nifty, and Valentino. Husker is the unique character we get to witness that he an "old soul" because he lived the longest while alive, yet is in the same soul generation as Alastor, Angel and Vox, yet one of the youngest with his afterlife and still managed to be Overlord at one point. His overlords years being in the 1980-90s. As it takes time to become an overlord with the exception of Alastor. But I believe Husk did raise to Overlord fairly rapidly but lost it nearly as quickly as it seems Alastor had him under contract for a long while. Husk was in his 20s during Alastor death, in his 30s going on 40s for Angel Death, and 40's for Nifty and Nox death. Husk and Valentino share the same Hell afterlife timeline.

Angel Dust: Stated his age is in the 30s...and it most be very early 30's because I do not get the impression of him being 30 but more in the 20's. It so weird to know Angel meant to be a few years younger then Alastor biologically. Death year 1947. Making his birth year around 1917. His soul being just over 100 years. about 20 year difference from Alastor. Alastor hitting the age of adulthood while Husker not even a preteen at the time of Angel birth. Angel was in his mid teens when Alastor died.. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Angel would witness the news that would arise from it. Possibly heard some of Alastor broadcast. Angel is assumed gone by the name Anthony for a few decades in Hell before adopting his porn star name when he signed on with Valentino.

Vox: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. Died in the 1950's. Making his birth year about 1915 his soul just over 100 years old. He was a teen at the time of Alastor death. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Vox would witness the news that would arise from it. Angel and Vox lives and death are about in the same timeline, Angel died no more than a decade before Vox.

Witness in his lifetime: Great depression, prohibition start and end. all of WWII, holocaust, Hindenburg, Mount Rushmore finished first motion picture with sound The Jazz Singer.

Niffty: Biologically 22. Died in the 1950's making her birth year about 1930's. Her soul is about 90 years old. She possibly the youngest biological age character we seen. She as an infant when Alastor died. A preteen to late teen when Angel died. Possibly watched Voxs programs. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). Died about the same time as Vox. Husk was in his 40s at her time of Death. Husk was in his 20 at the time of her birth.

Valentino: I'm placing him similar to Vox age so 35. He died in 1970's making his birth year about 1935. Just after Alastor death. Was in his late teens at the time of Vox death. Possibly watched Voxs programs growing up. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). His soul is about 85 years old. Angel is older than Valentino even if Angel biological age might been slightly younger.

Angel been around longer than Valentino and its easy to forget that. Angel been uncontracted for a few decades before Valeninto became an overlord.

In his lifetime, the last two states was added to the US. Beatlemania, the space race, woodstock.

Katie Killjoy: in her 40's and died in 1992. Her birth year being late 1940-early 1950s. Making her soul little over 70 years old.

Zeezi: No information but giving her blatant 80's style she dies in the 80's and her personality seem of someone in early 20s...she was born in the 1960's Making her soul just about 70 years old. Same age as Katie, but Katie lived longer making Zeezi a citizen of Hell longer.

Cherri Bomb: Biologically in her 20s, and died in 1980s. Her birth year being 1960s. Living the same exact timeline as Zeezi. Cherri is possibly the youngest character we witness so far.

Velvette: No real information released but appears to be in the 20s. Her "age and death age" don't really match up to her character, but since maybe that's because she just good at updating and staying on trend. I headcanon it takes a minimum for a soul to become an overlord 10 years. So going by that, early 2000s since she not a brand spankin new overlord, she vibing she been overlord for a few years-close to a decade. ? Her birth year being in the 1980's which....doesn't seem to match. But giving the show timeline is 2019 subtract having years of experience as an overlord, and years to accomative the power and climb the ladder, and add her age...its near 1980s. Only way she can be an overlord with her birth being later in the 90's and death close to current year frame is that the other Vees saw potential and her and adopted her immediately and steamline her into being an overlord. But why would they do that if they just make a deal for her soul and use her potential that way?

That it for now. Hopefully someone enjoys this or could use the information I gathered, some venture a guess on the characters timeline and who may overlap who. I hope it wasn't terribly dull.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel theory #alastor the radio demon #hazbin thoughts #hazbin theory #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #alastor hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin overlords #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lilith #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #hazbin eve #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam