#The Harbinger of Woe

[lady-quen]

Anomaly

Continuing the trend of speed art. Have that one fractal demon Mael again

[isawken]

every day on tumblr dot com past september 1st:

[blastbeatdbeat]

Brodequin - Harbinger of Woe

[dixidin]

Second day of cringetober @_@

If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Do not put my art in any ai or repost it as your own work. You are free to use this as a pfp as long as you credit. Any like or rebblog is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! -dixidin

[apanthropydotorg]

Review 65: Brodequin - Harbinger of Woe

BrodequinHarbinger of WoeSeason of Mist Underground ActivistsReleased: 3/22/24 –1 – Diabolical Edict2 – Fall of the Leaf3 – Theresiana4 – Of Pillars and Trees5 – Tenaillement6 – Maleficium7 – VII Nails8 – Vredens dag9 – Suffocation in Ash10 – Harbinger of Woe– How do you write about an entity like Brodequin? How do you describe a tsunami with words? What do we possess in our language that can…

[onlyhurtforaminute]

BRODEQUIN-OF PILLARS AND TREES

[sunlight-shunlight]

i actually got so much more attached to the concept of varric "centrism dwarf" tethras after i decided that his trash novels were going to be the harbinger of unexpected changes in thedas fhdsgfjhd.

woe! print mass media be upon ye! the chantry HATES him! kirkwall man discovers this weird new trick to reduce the hold of tranquil-run chantry scriptoriums, by getting all of southern thedas hooked on his secular serialized fiction, thus spurring every major city to buy printing presses-

[loveybloom]

︵︵ deity of suffering npts / id pack. ⚰

⠀ ི names —

thanatos ; onyx ; nyx ; erebus ; malakai ; solace ; lachesis ; misery ; caelum ; umbra ; sable ; desiderium ; dolor ; nocturne ; vesper ; moros ; zephyrine ; cyrene ; serenus ; nox ; eirlys ; acantha ; belladonna ; lament ; ashen ; tenebris ; amaranth ; corvus ; melancholy ; obsidian ; lucian ; cimmerian ; caligo ; penumbra ; morpheus ; tristesse ; abyss ; iridian ; maeror ; hecate ; halcyon ; aegis ; revenant ; sylvanus ; umbriel ; ravyn ; solanum ; orpheus.

⠀ ི pronouns —

agony/agonys ; torment/torments ; despair/despairs ; woe/woes ; lament/laments ; anguish/anguishs ; pain/pains ; misery/miserys ; grief/griefs ; sorrow/sorrows ; melancholy/melancholys ; desolation/desolations ; ruin/ruins ; tragedy/tragedys ; ashes/ashes' ; mourning/mournings ; suffering/sufferings ; abyss/abysss ; gloom/glooms ; dread/dreads ; sacrifice/sacrifices ; shadows/shadows' ; curse/curses ; perdition/perditions ; wrath/wraths ; bereavement/bereavements ; void/voids ; anguished/anguisheds ; laceration/lacerations ; heartache/heartaches ; forsaken/forsakens ; crux/cruxs ; dolor/dolors ; punishment/punishments ; penitence/penitences ; solitude/solitudes ; martyr/martyrs ; tears/tears' ; wailing/wailings ; obscurity/obscuritys ; chaos/chaoss ; fading/fadings ; bleeding/bleedings ; despairing/despairings ; dirge/dirges ; resentment/resentments ; 🖤/🖤s ; 🥀/🥀s ; 💔/💔s ; 🕯/🕯s ; ⚰/⚰s.

⠀ ི titles —

the suffering one ; prn who suffers ; the afflicted one ; prn who carries the world's pain ; the harbinger of sorrow ; prn who walks in anguish ; the eternal mourner ; prn who laments in the shadows ; the forsaken one ; prn who weeps for the lost ; the voice of torment ; prn who bears the burden ; the keeper of despair ; prn who bleeds for others ; the warden of grief ; prn who drowns in sorrow ; the cursed one ; the martyr of agony ; prn who whispers of woe ; the shadowed savior ; prn who stands in the abyss ; the veiled mourner ; prn who suffers in silence ; the bearer of torment ; prn who knows no solace ; the guardian of desolation ; prn who carries the dirge ; the silent wailer ; prn who lingers in lament ; the one who mourns endlessly ; prn who shields the broken ; the vessel of anguish ; prn who feels every ache ; the endless sufferer ; prn who breathes in shadows ; the keeper of wounds ; prn who holds despair close ; the fractured one ; prn who bleeds ; the anchor of pain ; prn who walks with wailing souls ; the heart torn asunder ; prn who is shrouded in grief ; the silent bearer of chaos ; prn who is bound to suffering ; the cry of the forsaken ; the harbinger of pain ; prn who haunts the desolate ; the weeping shadow.

[ddarker-dreams]

play wrestling — scaramouche.

Occasionally, there are instances in one’s life where regret embeds itself too deep to safely remove. 

Standing here, your back against the literal and proverbial wall, you’re reacquainted with this humbling reality. A reminder of your mortality. What a delicate substance it is, easily extinguishable like a candle to some. 

Violet eyes piercing enough to sever metal regard you, unamused and faintly malicious. You can’t say you didn’t bring this upon yourself. He pins your wrists above you with one hand. His grip is tight yet falls short of being painful. As much as you want to look away, he won’t permit it, so you maintain unflinching eye contact to prevent ruffling him further. 

“Well?” There’s a sardonic lilt to his voice that makes you shiver. “I’m waiting.” 

You part and close your lips in the same breath. Asking him for clarification won’t do you much good, he delights in watching you piece together his dubious intentions. The satisfaction he derives from it is a bit worrisome. Nonetheless, he offers you one saving grace he’d extend to no one else — patience.

What led up to this unfortunate development? Ah, yes, you saw fit to poke a slumbering beast with a stick. Scaramouche had been too preoccupied to entertain your whims. So, you being the genius that you are, offhandedly remarked that if he didn’t want to wrestle around with you, Tartaglia would certainly be up for it. 

No sooner had his junior Harbinger’s name left your lips did you find yourself pinned against a wall. 

He sighs, long and drawn out, as if you’re the source of all his woes. 

“You’re the one who proposed this insipid game, the least you can do is see it through.” 

One of the best boons from being in Scaramouche’s orbit is how many insults he adds to your vocabulary. His lexicon is vast and impressive. 

Now that you understand what he’s getting at, you push back against your restraints, gauging how effective this method would be. He doesn’t cede any ground. His lithe body belies the immense strength he can wield. He restricts your writhing without overexerting himself in the slightest. Realizing a battle of physical prowess won’t end in your favor, you employ a new tactic. 

The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile at him softly. 

“Kuni,” you speak the nickname he weakly claims to abhor, “Won’t you go easy on me?” 

The tips of the Harbinger’s ears turn red. He scoffs, turning his head to hide how effortlessly you fluster him. “Of course not. If I always indulged you, you’d become more insufferable than you already are.” 

“That’s rude.” 

“The truth often is.” 

While he’s preoccupied with your exchange, you twist your body, placing your best on the element of surprise. He’d need to quickly readjust the angle at which he’s holding your wrist to stop you. For half a second, you think you have him beat, but he leans in, using his torso to block your escape. A wicked grin spreads on his face at your little underhanded tactic. 

You swallow thickly. 

“Awe, don’t look so defeated! The effort was there,” he snickers. “Maybe next time?” 

“Don’t you have things to do? It’s not like you can hold me here all day, right?” 

He stares at you blankly. 

“... Right?” You repeat, chuckling weakly. 

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m starting to see the appeal to this game of yours. Let’s play a while longer.” 

[lady-quen]

Always wanted to do a what-if fully corrupted Mael, and what better opportunity to do so than Isgarren's shady little experiments? Introducing codename "Harbinger", also known as Sun Eater, Fenrir, Shadowlord, Bleak Raven.

As a failsafe in case of the Commander ever losing himself to the demon magic he wields, the Wizards ran a simulation of the worst possible future - orchestrating the deaths of all his loved ones, to the point he finally lost himself to madness. All in all, standard fractal business - except, whoops, the real Mael was never supposed to learn of Sun Eater's existence! And Sun Eater was never supposed to learn it wasn't in the real Tyria! Oh no... what's this about scientific hubris...? A little fucking around and finding out, perhaps?

And oh no! Is the former Pact Commander (the real deal) now plotting to assassinate Isgarren as well as trick the Wayfinder, Maolmuire, into slaying him in turn to prevent the possibility of a very dark future? Maybe.

His mental state hasn't been the best in quite some time and this is the straw that broke the camel's back. Except it was several bricks thrown at his head.

[arrival-layne]

Childe and Zhongli are both very dense. HENCE:

Zhongli actively courting/flirting with Childe, but his methods being so archaic or cultural that it flies right over childe's head. YES. But may I also present:

Childe just not being susceptible to romance in the first place. (That boy only has fighting on his mind, okay.)

Zhongli venting his woes to the traveler:

Zhongli: I don’t understand. I’ve been very direct in my affections. But he is yet to recuperate or acknowledge my advances. 🤨 Traveller: idk. Why don’t you try speaking his language. Dudes kinda battle hungry. Maybe you can woo him through fighting??? Zhongli: 🤔

He’s skeptical. And the traveller is done with both their pining. But I’m talking Zhongli trying to woo childe through his battle prowess and knowledge and it totally working. And it leaves Childe a confused and flustered mess.

✨Some examples✨:

Zhongli bringing up more ancient battles in their conversations and noticing childe engaging a lot more. Complimenting that he thinks childe is just as brave a those heroes of old. Just as strong if not more.

Complimenting him on his battle techniques. His form. His mastery of so many weapons.

Gifting him intricate or rare weapons. Armor, sheaths, bows, etc. (Some even from his own collections)

Flirting with childe under the guise of offering pointers to master the bow. To get close and once again shower him with praise and compliments.

And of course the SPARS. It has childe weak in the knees. The way Zhongli moves and how he can keep up with a harbinger. And overpower him. His deep voice as he compliments his beautiful form. UGHHHH (the tension people!!)

OR ALTERNATIVELY: Zhongli withholding spars all together, having forgone such activities with his retirement (and afraid of hurting childe) it would drive Childe wild.

And of course. Childe still being as dense as a rock. Only now, Zhongli's ‘flirting’ is making it really hard to keep his cool.

additional note:

Imagine after the golden house/northland bank Childe being even more confused and dense. Was this mf messing with me?? Was he just SHOWING OFF????

The traveller: 😒

Oh the possibilities

[fatuismooches]

omg i just read some of my older asks and i am uhmmmm.... wtf was i doing, what am i doing????

anywaaaayyyy

imagine jealous dottore segments hehehhehehe

zandy is [name's] bbg no questions asked, but what if the other segments get jealous that you spend so much time with their child self and not the older, smarter and just overall better segments!!!! they're thankful you care so much about the thing but, hey! they are right here and ready to mingle cuddle, why choose to hold a child like a teddy bear, when you can be that teddy bear?

while all you do is hug little zandy and reading him a book, about Fontaine machines and their science things, for an hour or two till he falls asleep, and this only happens twice a week

when Pantalone found out the segments were jealous he grinned so hard that day, and may have told bina and every other harbinger just to annoy the doctor even more, the gossip is juicy tonight for the agents. you made sure to cuddle every dottore you have available a little more than usual after that.

the fact that Zandik is hearing all these thoughts from different segments is so funny to me, like he's trying to concentrate not think about his lover right now(very hard), and when he finally succeeded theres another one being more jealous than the last, please leave [name] and the child alone and get to work. he's way more jealous than every segments jealousy combined

(i already explored everything in the new area's, theres something too wrong with me)

have you ever heard of a thing called grass? apparently its green and similar to the things you see a lot of in sumeru, i really wanna see some for myself one day :>

-luv ya

It was always rather amusing to see Dottore's segments jealous, although you probably haven't seen real jealousy. Even though they do get jealous of each other, most of the time they don't bother letting it brew - they just simply go up and try to steal you, which usually ends up in a semi-fight that you quickly deescalate with a compromise. However, it's different when the segment is none other than Zandy... after all, it was well known that the child had a certain unknown power that none of them possessed. It was unfair, really. What did a mere child have that they didn't?! Yes, they're secretly happy you're that affectionate to the boy who was ostracized and constantly hurt, but that doesn't trump their grumpiness! Of course, you don't really realize at first, considering the segments seem to be busy most of the time anyway.

Pantalone, however, having to deal with these scholars more than he liked, over time became keenly aware of when his business partners were in a bad mood. Well, it was pretty obvious with the younger ones, but the older ones required some more delving into (which he'd become accustomed to due to his not-so-desirable deals). It had only taken the Ninth a bit of prodding to discover the segments' cause of discontentment, and their romantic woes were perhaps one of his favorite sources of amusement. Although what comes out of his mouth later is certainly... not the best for the fearsome Il Dottore, it's not all bad, just as Pantalone planned. The rumors reached their way to you, of course! And with that, despite the segments denying all accusations, you make sure to give them all numerous kisses.

Prime is exasperated, but not unsurprised at his clones' thoughts. At least for once, they weren't fighting, but rather complaining in uncommon unison about your lack of attention. Still, it doesn't make it much better... their minds should not be so weak as to fall victim to a mere lack of touch and sweet words. It was quite ridiculous...

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[styluswritesdc]

Oh oh oh . How about some headcannons of how would react the rogues to vigilant who is holding back their strenght ? In a battle against a great treat, Vigilant show their true strenght, their capacities and powers of great destructions.

amazing prompt! if I left anyone and/or you'd like me to flesh out anything lemme know!

Bane

is obsessed. strength is the way to his heart.

genuinely infatuated with you. he loves that he doesn't have to worry about you. in fact, its a big weight off of his mind.

bane needs someone of equal or even bigger strength and power than him, even if that strength is not physical.

he might question you on where you obtained this power, whether you're a meta human or you were trained. bane wants to know about it! out of curiosity more than anything.

Riddler/Edward Nygma

OH- well brilliant darling! now if the bat comes along he wont have to worry about being beaten to a pulp!

speaking of... he's going to try (as hard as he of all people can) to not get on your bad side.

is curious about your power too! like a riddle he wants to solve the cause, limits and origins of this power, especially if you're a metahuman!

he's the type of guy to clap his hands and ask you to perform whatever abilities you have! more applause will ensue if you feed his curiosity and show him what you're capable of!

Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane

how beautifully terrifying!

Oh this opens many opportunities to spread fear! i mean your power! it could be utilised for world domination! but he does respect your existing morals and beliefs.

he sees you as some brilliant force for good that oh so wonderfully contrasts with him.

you're a warrior of peace and valour, whereas he is the harbinger of fear and woe.

thinks of you highly, as he did before this great display of strength.

TwoFace/Harvey Dent

Already respected you for your morals and code. this will only make them respect you more.

you've faced trauma and violence head on and now you're a liberator of sorts. They can remember a time when they were that person for Gotham.

they almost feel a sense of peace that you are the one now who is there to protect Gotham's citizens and bring justice to those who deserve it.

does get that sense of "oh shit that's the person I've been fighting?? they've been going EASY on me?"

Harley Quinn

oh my hero!! she loves it! you're so strong and hot hehehe

please please please punch joker in his narstie little face for her please.

Strength is a good thing for her too! she admires how strong you are after all you've been through.

and now you've got these super cool powers! how fun!!

she's already telling you about some schemes or ideas she has involving your powers.

she really hopes you'll take her up on them even if you stay as a vigilante.

Clayface/Basil Karlo

that's hawwtt.

sorry! I'm just telling you that its 100% his first thought about it.

like excuse me but now he admires you even more! (somehow)

he's got posters of you and everything.

he forgets who's side he's on and is suddenly a superhero/vigilante lover!

honestly, he might as well since know he knees THAT power and person has been his enemy?? he's finished.

Killer Croc/Waylon Jones

genuinely that one meme of the guy grabbing either side of his head, mouth agape in shock.

has the same thought as basil where he's like "omg what the fuccckk? he's been trying to fight you and you can do THAT?!

besides that... its cool.

he definitely has even more of a crush on you now.. what can he say? he loves a person in power!

its nice to know you can handle yourself!

also good that you probably wont break if he touches you

[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 9.0 - Prologue for a New Afterlife

Excerpt from "The Afterlife for Gods and Monsters," location of book unknown.

[flashback]

It should be said that the space between universes was not a bar. You couldn't just stumble in whenever you wanted and pour yourself a drink.

Even if you were the most silver-tongued of creatures.

Even if you were fast as the fae.

"Akira Kibo, the afterlife is not a free-for-all," Substance huffs, folding her arms. 

"Yeah, and if you ain't want visitors, you shoulda been faster closing the door." 

It was a technicality. But then again, technicalities were the lifeblood of the fae. 

Substance rolls her eyes. “Your father was like you. Fast enough to slip in here and take something that was ours. I hear the birds are still eating his liver."

"Sounds about right," Akira smirks. “He was kind of an asshole.” 

And there, the creature standing before the Divine Creators demonstrated that he knew the foundational rule of the universe: 

Fuck around and find out.

“Akira Kibo, last one left,” Time observes in her honeyed voice. "Ancient upon ancient. Cursed with the speed that made you at once a harbinger and a relic. You must be lonely."

“I don’t gotta be,” Akira replies. “The Reaper's scythe is not a requirement for a new life.”

It was a law so arcane that the Divine Creators almost forgot they made it.

"You’ve done your reading," Substance allows, "And what would you offer in exchange for this new life? Would you get back what your father stole?”

"In exchange, I will make sure that what my father took ends up where it belongs."

As far as deals went, it left a lot to be desired. The fae can't lie, which wasn't the same as saying they don't lie, so that single statement presented loopholes upon loopholes.

But it was as close to satisfaction as the Creators were going to get. 

"It's tricky, starting a new life without death," Time purses her lips. "All this experience will be muscle memory, a life you feel but can't remember. You and your sister will be in between."

Akira shrugs. "We got over losing godhood. Pretty fuckin' sure we'll survive this." 

"So confident!" Time quirks a brow, "Alright. Have your new life, Akira. But first, a question. Who would you be in a whole new world? What would you do with a new set of circumstances?"

"I wouldn't be the last."

“I would keep them safe.”

It should be said that the Divine Creators were not usually chatty. Usually, they did not tell you shit. But sometimes, when you made a thing, you had a soft spot, and so, just before Akira reaches the doors, Time calls out:

“They will be unruly, Akira. And loathe to listen. They will make you break your rules and forget your vows. They will test your boundaries and leave you wanting. Death will come for you. And woe be unto the creatures standing in the way of the Hunt for your heart.”

With those parting words, the Creators watch as Akira walks out the doors and falls into his next life.

"The screaming is always so loud. We should change things up," Time muses. "What about a nice bayou instead of a warehouse? We could drown everyone in a lake instead of dropping them onto concrete."

“It won’t work,” Substance grumbles.

“Of course it will. I already have the perfect piece of property picked out.”

"Not your swamp. This plan. I don't like it."

Time is unphased. She sinks to her knees behind her wife, placing a steadying hand on her hip. "You worry too much."

“And you don't worry enough,” Substance tilts her head back. She bites down on a moan, fighting against the distraction. “You promised me an eternity of torment, and now we’ll have to free him because if the son exists, so too must the father.”

“You are too tense,” Time plants the softest kiss at the base of her wife's spine, “Remember when we killed all the gods and replaced them? This is like that. It's a good plan."

"But my birds are—"

Another kiss. "The birds won’t go hungry for too long. Akira will remember his task."

“The living don’t remember shit.” Substance snaps, but her voice is breathless. "And anyway, he's too fast. Cursed with it."

“Then Death, my love, will just have to catch him.”

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(I was going to have them pour each other wine, but then this pose by @fallstaticexit came for my throat, and it is PERFECTION)