#darksiders oc

[alexstarksblog]

Oh.. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt pleasant feelings when creating art.. And this is just one of them.. And I haven’t really done anything on Darksiders, so I’ll fix it in small steps :3

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

First entry for Darksiderstober 2024, may be my only entry, no promises as I have some real life stuff going on, but it is practically tradition to do some for Darksiders! Starting with my main Darksiders oc Siva with a new revamped style, and in digital sketch😂🤣. Thank you for the prompts this year @imagine-darksiders , let's see what else I can cook! Besides Darksiderstober, have some announcements I will be making related to new merch besides the Horsemen pins soon so stay tuned!

Art and Siva are mine

Prompts are here

Prompts by @imagine-darksiders

[theelderhazelnut]

OCs for new year!

Yarden belongs to dear @voidika <3

Art Taglist: @inafieldofdaisies @darialovesstuff @elderglocks @cassietrn @admin-pipes @bloody-arty-myths @chadillacboseman @ninibear3000 @strangefable @sinclxirx @afraidofrabbits @vivilovespink @aceghostsarchive @w0nd3rpl4y @cloudofbutterflies92 @graveyard-party666 @raresvtm @imogenkol @malicedragoness @valyrra @tommyarashikage @scentedcandleibex @ash-shark @outworldyuri

[monsuta127]

Another WIP + fun fact about Jay:

After Ulthane rescues Jay, at first she was silent and distant (of course). But after some time and talking with Jones, Jay starts asking more on how she can help and from there, their friendship begins. It was also where she watched Ulthane craft certain tools and weapons using magic, which he enjoyed talking about with her. Even when Haven was under attack Jay wanted to help him fight, but he turned her down, saying that protecting her and her people were more important.

So imagine his surprise when he sees her again 100 years later and with the red rider of all people.

[conejoartillustration]

"Bound in Crystal"

The dim light of the chamber barely illuminated by Disease silhouette as she sat at the edge of the bath, lost in thought. Footsteps echoed, pulling her from her reverie. Turning, she saw him—Death, as cold and resolute as the void itself. There was no warning, no time for protest. His approach seemed almost tender, arms extending as though to comfort her. But the moment his touch met her, everything shattered. A fleeting pain, a whispered goodbye, and then—silence.

She awoke in darkness, a crystalline prison shimmering faintly around her. Her voice, trembling and desperate, called out into the void, only to be met with an eternal stillness. Meanwhile, the crystal hung unnoticed around his neck, hidden among his armor—a silent testament to a burden only he could bear. In her new reality, she was trapped, her essence confined, yet a part of him always. Together, but worlds apart.

P.s. Before Death began to go against his Nephilim brothers, he first killed Disease, the one who was dear to him, and kept her soul separately, which he used in the future as a spy.

[artsolarsash]

Death the Riper aka the Horseman of Apocalypse.

That’s how he would look like if the next game would be like metroidvania genre.

So which the Horseman of Apocalypse would be next?

[cranbree-thinks-sometimes]

Darksiders Oneshot (Using a raw quote as a prompt) 2

“The rage in your heart warms you now but it will leave you cold in your grave.”

(Typed 'darksiders azrael' into Pinterest and clicked on the first image that came up)

If you could have compared Azrael-Angel-of-Death to anything at all, then it probably would have been a sigh, or perhaps a breath of wind. It seemed like a silly thing to do given that he was older than your planet and powerful in a move-mountains-with-mind kind of way. Taking these things into consideration, a comparison to a maelstrom or a hurricane seemed far more apt. 

If anyone was a breath of wind then it was you, along with the rest of your kind - the human race. Brief, barely tangible, and of little consequence. Here today and gone tomorrow in a very literal sense.

But you did not feel like a breath of wind, you felt like you were on fire. All the time. It never stopped. You were overflowing with rage, hatred and the deep yearning for vengeance. It was physically agonising to keep these feelings contained, always threatening to rip through your skin and incinerate all in their path. No one on Earth commented on the very palpable rage you exuded because it was something you all shared. 

Outside of Earth? Nobody seemed to pick up on it, apart from Draven, which wasn’t a surprise. You told him not to worry about it. Maybe being able to sense someone's emotions was a human thing. Or maybe you really were that inconsequential and humanity’s wrath was as perceptible as a worm’s fart. Who knows? Who cares?

Azrael though? You had made your comparisons because he was so…quiet. So gentle. Just like a breath of wind. And just like a sigh he seemed to be the very embodiment of melancholy. The air of sadness and despair that swirled around him was as solid as a brick wall. You had recoiled away from it when you first met him. You had often wondered what he was so sad about but then again he was unspeakably ancient, the list of possible causes (all of which you were ignorant of) was presumably long enough to knit a blanket with. 

Rather morbidly it was the grey cloud that hung over him that earned him your eventual trust. You didn’t really like angels all that much, they had far more in common with demons than they would ever care to admit. They were vain, arrogant and blind to the suffering of those they deemed lesser than themselves. Many of the atrocities you had witnessed on Earth that were forever burned into your retinas were committed by angels. There were only a select few that stood out against this dismal conclusion; these being Nathaniel of Lostlight, Uriel of the Hellguard, and of course, Azrael-Angel-of-Death. 

He did not seem vain or arrogant. His kindly demeanour had gradually chipped away at your defences and led to the situation you were in now: sat on a balcony while cuddled up against Azrael’s side, with a wing slung around you in a companionable embrace. He had been performing such a gesture for a while now, ever since you had introduced him to the strange and foreign concept of ‘hugs’. It was also effective at keeping you hidden from other angels that might pass by, as your presence in the White City was…heavily contested to put it simply.  

“What troubles you? You have been silent for some time.” Azrael’s voice pulled you back to reality, cutting through your dark thoughts like sunlight through fine morning mist. To be quite honest, you were tempted to dismiss him like you had done so many times before. You had always waved away his enquiries into your well-being because your hypothetical and completely truthful response would be ‘Earth is in ruins, everyone is dead or dying, everything is shit and I hate everything’, surely an all-powerful immortal’s eventual response would be ‘who gives a dead dog about your dying planet? Boo-hoo, go cry about it some more.’

It was either that or the fact that there had always been a part of you that had remained wary of Azrael and you did not want to give him a pathway into your mind. Everyone already thought that humanity was pathetic and frail and you knew that even the smallest poke into your mental state would break the fragile dam, resulting in tears, violence, or both. You were reluctant to show that kind of vulnerability to any non-humans lest they belittle you and add another weakness to the no-doubt miles long list that already existed. 

With your mind made up you began to form an answer, a dull and lackluster ‘I’m OK’ all fired up and ready to go. But then you paused. Despite your hesitancy Azrael was still your friend. You liked him. Adored him even. He was kind, gentle, wise and bloody gorgeous. OK, you would never admit any of this out loud. The long of the short was that maybe you had nothing to fear from him. Maybe it was finally time to confide in him rather than constantly push him away. 

There was a long pause in which Azrael continued to wait patiently like the heavenly saint that he was. The silence stretched unbroken. Awkwardness singed your cheeks yet Azrael’s expression remained serene. It was nice, really, No glaring. No passive-aggressive ‘Well?’ But you felt like you were letting him down by not breaking the silence. 

You looped your arm, which previously had been squished against him, through his own in a silent attempt to convey that you weren’t ignoring him; it’s just that words were hard. How could you say how you felt without sounding like a crazed lunatic two seconds away from murder most foul? 

Your mind helpfully pointed out that your dry, dusty ‘I’m OK’ was ready for launch at any time. No. You couldn’t. The silence had gone on for so long that that would just feel like a betrayal. A waste of time. You were no waste of time! You had to commit to this!

Funny, a snarling trauma was a laughable opponent to you now, a buzzing nest of demons was barely worth batting an eyelash at, a bristling angel general armed to the teeth served only as a source of amusement for you and your fellows to taunt and tease, but God forbid you had to talk about your precious little fee-fees. 

Embarrassing. Absolutely embarrassing. Where was that innate emotional intelligence? You sat up a little straighter. You coughed a little and your mouth began to creak open. Come on. Raise the portcullis! Use your mouth and the sound that emerges!

Egads, there should have been some war horns rumbling away to hype you up or something. 

1, 2, 3 - go!

1, 2, 3 - go!

1, 2, 3 - go!

Go!

Go!

…any moment now…

“I’m just not feeling so great right now”, you eventually mumble. Wow. Wow. Pa-the-tic. All that for nothing. You saw a Viking warrior in your mind’s eye, disappointed that all the effort he put into blowing that war horn loud enough to rival the roosters crowing to herald the dawn of Ragnarok, had gone to waste. Boo. 

‘I’m sorry Mr Viking’, you thought glumly. 

Imaginary warriors of a bygone era were of little consequence though, it was Azrael’s opinion you cared about. You looked up at him and nearly jumped out of your skin when you realised that he was staring down at you. 

“Whatever is the matter?”, he asked in such a gentle voice that it made you a little tearful. 

Despite this you laughed anyway. “What isn’t the matter?”, you answered.

Azrael let out a sigh so bone-deep you might have thought that it had been his home that was pummelled into the ground, not yours. He put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him and you buried your face into his silky, not-silk robes.   

“Is there anything you wish to speak to me about?”, he continued while using that same tear-jerking tone. 

Speaking would require retreating from the robe and you didn’t really want to do that because it was quite nice by there.   

“I’m just so angry Azzy”, you said despairingly, making a Herculean effort to not start snivelling into the expensive-looking fabric. 

Suddenly you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze, as if doing so would lower yourself in his eyes. He wordlessly waited for you to continue. You retrieved your face from his robes, your skin already missing his warmth as you took in the White City stretched out before you. It was a vast expanse of could-be-marble and could-be-gold divided up amongst many floating islands loosely arranged in concentric circles. Beneath it all was an endless void of impenetrable cloud. There was little, if any, vegetation as far as you could tell but the place was certainly clean. Pristine even. Perhaps too pristine. 

Earth had never been pristine by any stretch of the imagination. It had its flaws and it had its rot. But it was home. A good home. Your home. For every 100 flaws there had been 100 good things. It had been beautiful. A kind of beauty that the carefully measured perfection of the White City could never hope to match.

Not anymore. Now Earth was little more than a ruin. A blood-stained ruin where tiny pockets of human life endured in the hollowed-out corpses of once-great cities and the charred husks of ancient forests. Now there were few good things to be found. 

You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails left indents in your palms. You inhaled a deep shuddering breath. Your wrath was starting to boil and you zeroed in on it, hoping that it would stave off your anguish. 

“Everything is gone Azrael”, you choked out, “I watched my home crumble around me, I watched all that was good in the world go up in flames…we all did.”

You weren’t looking at him but the grief that rolled off of him was astronomical. He stroked your hair in what was most likely intended to be a comforting gesture but it just made you feel like an animal. Were you an animal? Were humans animals? Many would say yes. 

“I understand how you feel-”, he began before your harsh words smashed through his soft ones - “No, you don’t!!”

Seething and snarling, his warmth became oppressive, so you shrugged off his arm and wriggled out from under his wing. You approached the balcony railing and stared out somewhat enviously at the bustling city below you. 

Look, you weren’t saying that he had never suffered, you weren’t saying that he had never felt bone-rotting, core-hollowing anguish, and you weren’t saying that he had never held a friend in his arms as their life-blood seeped into his clothes, but the evidence was clear: Heaven stood proud while Earth did not. His world was not ash and blood beneath his feet. 

“Have you ever seen such…desolation Azrael?”, you asked with your eyes fixed on the horizon. 

Azrael hadn’t followed you to the balcony’s edge, nor did he answer, but you felt his eyes on your back. 

No sun, no stars, no green. Earth had had its heart torn from its chest. You didn’t even know why. No one did. 

“If I ever catch who is responsible-”, you said more to yourself than to Azrael, “then I-”. You paused, eyelids twitching, fists clenching. Your blood chanted for murder, for battle, for glorious death, for sweet revenge. Your heart thumped out its rhythm - a living, pulsing war drum. Something squirmed in your guts and you lost yourself in the feeling of flesh tearing and blood on your hands. In your mouth. Down your neck. “-we will have our revenge”, you hissed. 

Self-awareness knocked politely on the interior of your skull and informed you that you definitely made yourself look incredibly deranged. You spun around, “Not that I think endlessly pursuing revenge is a good thing!”, you said frantically. 

Azrael stared at the ground, his expression obscured by his snowy hair. He still hasn’t said anything. Oh dear…you must have broken him. 

“I know anger is an exhausting emotion to maintain”, you ventured hesitantly, doing your best to sound level-headed as you stepped away from the railing and back towards Azrael. You noticed that he was holding his knees with an iron grip and his wings trembled almost imperceptibly. Oh no, you must have really upset him. Your wrath melted away completely, leaving you shaking and ashamed. What was wrong with you?

“I’m sorry…I know it’s not good to dwell on negative emotions…I know it’s not good to wish harm on others”, you said quietly, feeling so very small and stupid. 

Azrael finally raised his head and, oh, he looked distraught. Your damaged heart cracked further still. You were crying now, whether you wanted to or not, the tears weren’t going to wait for your permission. 

“I’m sorry Azzy, I can’t let go, not yet”, you said, still trying to keep your voice even and your face calm in spite of the tears that ran down your face unchecked. They seeped into your mouth. They were salty. It felt like a connection. A connection to a home long gone. God you missed the sea. 

“I know that the rage in my heart may warm me now, but leave me cold in my grave…and yet…I can’t go on while knowing that whoever destroyed Earth is just out there somewhere, unpunished”, you said. 

You maintained your dignity as best as you could but speaking about this made unpleasant memories float to the surface. The day it all began. The confusion. The fear. The screams.

It’s Azrael that pulled you back. 

“I’m so sorry." His voice was but a hoarse whisper. You weren’t sure what he meant by that but it didn’t matter as you flung yourself into his waiting arms. He held you close, his wings encircling you until you were hidden from view by a warm, feathery cave. Overcome with emotion you blindly press a kiss to his cheek and he hugs you more tightly than he ever has before. You do not let go of one another for a long time.

Thank you so much for reading. If you have coin to spare I implore you to commission my friend who is an amazing artist (and also in the Darksiders fandom). If you like what you see above and have an idea that you want to see written then don't hesitate to check out my own commissions post.

[doodlesdreaming]

Just cus why not, Ava's reaction to Death without his mask for the first time? Did it need to be removed for a potential injury after Death somehow got incapacitated? Perhaps a situation where Death took it off himself and has forgotten where he placed it before Ava found it. Or did it get knocked off by chance during a fight with something big enough to achieve it like a Stalker swiping his face or something.

Sidenote: The way you draw Death's face behind the mask is just lovely.

Death: You’re staring.

Ava: I-I’m sorry! It’s just…um well…

Death: Spit it out, Girl.

Ava: Strife said that you looked like a wrinkled old crone under your mask.

Death: *slight eye twitch* Oh, did he now?

[deygodraws]

New Year, New Boi! In fact, an ENTIRE NEW DARKSIDERS AU!!!

It’s called Against Creation and this is the first art I have finished related to it lmao

New Boi Anathem’s got dysmorphia, and being turned into a living weapon has actually been really good for him :3

[voidwritesstuff]

Hiraeth for Against Creation AU. Human form + horseman look.

>Dont repost my art. Dont feed to A//I I do not CONSENT. I own the copyright to all my art

[alexstarksblog]

Evening. Plain. Not a soul around. Only father and daughter in the middle of an open field. They decided to take a short break. But they still have a long road ahead...

[scarletknightreterns]

It... It genuinely makes me so so happy seeing how many people like either my art of Cinder and Death or the ship itself. No idea, no clue, I know some of you adore these two, and just.

Y’all are amazing?

Truly.

Have a cute 💜

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

Darksiderstober 2023 Day 14: Relic

After their little disagreement, Siva was more hesitant to give up any relics she found on her scavenging trips, and for the first time Vulgrim learns the ancient concept of Finders keepers. Finally been catching up since mid November got busy, so expect me to post every now and then with finishing each day at my own pace. Hope ya like and stay tuned!

Darksiderstober sponsored by @another-darksiders-blog and @imagine-darksiders

Art, Siva and prompts are mine

Prompts are here

[lec743-my-art]

Two unhappy ladies

[monsuta127]

YALL I JUST THOUGHT OF SMTH-

Imagine Jay and War get into a big argument because Jay has been with him after killing the last 3 chosen but War doesn't want her to go with him to Silitha's lair. So when they head to Ulthane's place, she finds out that War plans to go alone and Jay is against it. In the end War walks away and Jay is left silently crying in the rain.

[conejoartillustration]

War saved Desease (my oc character)