#The Harbinger 2

[claraoswalds]

This is a brand new science for me, and I love it. The language of luck. 'Cause what is a coincidence but a form of accident? Two things bumping together unexpectedly. Like you and me.

[novicere]

The Harbinger.

An experimental drawing I made of Harbinger Lifeweaver. It was a lot of fun and so different from what I usually get to draw. ♥

Prints, Charms and Pins here: etsy.com/shop/novicere

My Twitter: https://twitter.com/novicere

[comickergirl]

Unpopular (?) opinion: I kinda dig the Tomorrowverse Crisis movies, and in particular I love the weird, dysfunctional father/daughter dynamic these two have going on.

[cluescorner]

Every other harbinger: My coworkers are fucking insane and I hate them. I'd probably have killed them by now if we weren't on the same side. Why in the fuck am I forced to put up with these selfish, pathetic, obnoxious imbeciles?!!!

Capitano: *Exists*

Every other harbinger: omg Capitano

[merry-fagoland]

when ur a rarepair fan or a multishipper you need to stop going "haha wouldnt it be interesting if-" as a joke because pretty soon IT'S NO LONGER A JOKE!!!!!!

[skellygearz]

BE NOT AFRAID 🪷🪽

[harbingercr0w]

STAIRWAY TO HELL

—

my piece for @fbczine ‘s oceanview guestbook zine! it was an absolute blast and pleasure to be able to contribute to such a passionate project full of incredibly talented contributors. be sure to check out the full zine! everyone did absolutely amazing!

[flightlessribbons]

They are war criminals.

Transcript under the cut!

BRIDGETTE:

So you guys never revealed your identities either? Was Richard Sphinx like Hawkmoth, or worse?

SABINE:

It wasn’t worse... It was different.

We’re still not sure what Hawkmoth’s goals are…but Sphinx was an open book. His methods were also different so we had to fight a LOT different than you kids did.

BRIDGETTE:

Different how?

*picture pointing at Richard Sphinx*:

ORGANIZED CRIME KINGPIN

SABINE:

Aha…well there were reasons we were the “infamous gang of masked vigilantes”...

*In flashback scenes*:

*Stray and Adonis smiling in front of Sphinx Co. Headquarters on fire*

HIVE:

Oh, getting them for embezzlement was easy- but the tax fraud had some issues but I got them.

MINI MENACE:

Tell me a riddle, Sphinx.

VULPUS:

Yeah, it’s an illusion. They don’t know that.

[doodlingwren]

I'd love to have something witty to say here, but I think this one post speaks for himself in a way no words could.

Originally, I wanted to do a "simple" redraw of a silly meme, I have no idea HOW it eneded up being a four pages comic. And WHY there's also a JOJO reference within of all things. So uhm, anyway...

✨ Sources and references ✨

The "Dilf Detected Comic" [original unedited comic, meme format, meme format if you want the rebloggable tumblr version]

The "Oh? You're Approaching Me?" panel from the manga JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (chapter 143)

Hope you've liked the Aries™ Rizz©® ok bye

[incorrectfatui]

Dottore: *dies*  Signora: Timer starts now! When is he coming back? I say two months!  Crucabena: Bullshit. One month.  Pierro: Nah, half a month.  Pantalone, new to the Fatui, sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DOTTORE JUST DIED!  Columbina, scratching chin in thought: One week.

[pachimation]

its pride month,,,,,but none of the harbingers know what that means

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[mothscotch]

some csr/bx:e blinkys for fun

free to use decorate with them idk

[megalophobic-astronomer]

WAKE UP ANGLERHEADS

[inujous]

Portal 2 AU:

Nahida waking up in a facility that the Fatui had long since taken ownership of as being taken (forcefully) form the Akademiya Sages who'd kept her in. As she wakes, she's led by -- and ive debate don it, but im making Zanik/ The Doctor be Wheatley's role.

So it'd be Student Zandik who woke her and is trying to help her escape, and I also decided that when he Betrays her, he shifts to actual Dottore we know.

Glados' role is replaced via Scaramouche/Wanderer

[harbingercr0w]

it’s not a loop, it’s a spiral. 🌀