#darksiders young death

[granddaughterogg]

Do you think Death had a wife/children before the Four ended the Nephilim?

Here we go, answering asks from literal years ago...just to see if the ol' word making machine still works.

I don't think pre-Kinslayer Death has ever had a wife. To me young D reads as someone immensely arrogant and callous (you can still see those lovely features glimpsing through here and there in DS2 - even though age has matured him and taught him humility.) This man used to be a complete arse with a profound disregard for intimate relationships and for women in general. He used to be the worst nightmare of any lady entering the dating pool; a man so sharp, so intoxicatingly charming - yet heartless.

He'd have girlfriends, one night stands and fuck friends. More often than not he'd manipulate someone into thinking that he wants a relationship with them when all he ever cared about was having a good time, not a long time. Men like that do not marry. Why would they?

As for children...that's another story altogether.

You know, there's this obnoxious thing that playboy men sometimes do. When asked whether they have kids, they shrug and quip: "Not any that I know of."

[fanfic-obsessed]

No Memories, Just Vibes

There is a part of the Jedi Apprentice series that has sparked two different ideas, of which this is the first. 

Early in one of the books, before Obi Wan is taken as a padawan, Qui Gon Jinn witnesses a duel between him and another initiate. Qui Gon perceives that these two pre teens (if I remember correctly, Obi Wan is a few weeks away from turning 13 and Bruck Chun was a few months to a year younger) are too angry and tells Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, that training Obi Wan would be a waste of time. 

As traumatizing as this speech is, when we take into account Obi Wan’s entire story it is also, objectively, the single most hilarious thing that Qui Gon Jinn could say to Obi Wan Kenobi. 

From this Two ideas were born. 

IDEA 1

The first is that as soon as Qui Gon tell Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, the Force drops post Death Star Qui Gon into current time Qui Gon’s head. Except there are no memories, just vibes.  So between one moment and the next Qui Gon goes from ‘I will not teach you. Get away from me’ to ‘this is my baby padawan, my little boy! Isn’t he precious?’.

And the Masters watching, particularly those responsible for assigning the Master/Padawan pairs, go ‘we were going to let you take the baby, until just now. Now we need do a psych eval’

And Obi Wan (twelve years old) is a mix of emotions that he is not sure there is a word for.  Ten minutes ago he was hopeful that Qui Gon Jinn would take him as a padawan. Three minutes ago the same master shattered that hope and left him devastated. Now the Master who devastated him is now hugging him and babbling about a padawan braid and how Obi Wan is his son.

Nothing makes sense.

Eventually, after innumerable medical and psychological tests, Qui Gon is allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan. At some point, during the evaluations, Qui Gon comes to two ‘realizations’ (based on nothing but vibes). The first is that he decides that Obi Wan must be the chosen one, but Qui Gon cannot tell anyone, believing that Qui Gon would not be allowed to teach him (left over vibes from the High council not letting him take Anakin as a Padawan) and to not put excess pressure on the baby. He also decides that Obi Wan’s goodness (the vibe that Obi Wan is incapable of falling) is just what is needed to bring Xanatos back to the light. 

It should be noted that Qui Gon communicates this plan poorly to Obi Wan, who perceives that Qui Gon took him on to be bait for Qui Gon’s fallen former padawan.  Obi Wan, though lacking in much of the trauma that we associate with him, is fairly fatalistic and just shrugs, thinking ‘well, this might as well happen’.

As soon as Qui Gon is released from medical, he takes himself and his shiny new padawan haring across the galaxy looking for Xanatos.  It takes long enough to find him that Feemor hears about what is going on and, out of concern for the child involved, goes to find them. When he arrives Qui Gon is waving Obi Wan at Xanatos going ‘I got you a baby brother.’

Feemor, somehow both too young and too old for this shit, goes ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ and briefly steals Obi Wan. 

At some point Obi Wan and Xanatos bond enough that the next time that Xanatos tells Qui Gon that Xan is going to kill him, Obi Wan pipes up saying that Qui Gon was the only master ho would take him and Obi wan really wants to be a Jedi.

Xanatos now has a new mission, to find a new Master for his little brother, so he can go back to trying to murder Qui Gon. (For handwavy reasons, we’ll call it the repudiation, Feemor is not allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan-Xanaots asked). 

So now we have the weirdest chase in history. Qui Gon is vibing and chasing Xanatos. Xantos is leading Qui Gon on a chase and looking for another Jedi Master without getting skewered (because of the darksider thing). Obi Wan is being dragged along with Qui Gon, hoping that he gets to learn something about being a jedi before he is killed? He is not even sure. Feemor is following Qui Gon and Obi Wan, occasionally confiscating Obi Wan, because he is not sure anyone should be exposed to this much Qui Gon over any length of time. 

They are also utterly ignoring both the senate and the Jedi council. Well Feemor and Qui Gon are ignoring the Jedi Council and the Senate. Xanatos, since he is not part of the Jedi Order any longer, is not bound to either.  Obi Wan is actually filling out the required reports to the best of his abilities but the information boils down to ‘We continue to ignore the assigned mission, I am thirteen (having had a birthday in the interim) and cannot change that. Feemor is quite kind when he abducts me.’

You may or may not have guessed but this clusterfuck lands on Galidraan.  Just before the fighting between Jango Fett’s True Mandalorians and Dooku’s Jedi is due to erupt.  Qui Gon wanders through the tense standoff, stops and with no context whatsoever goes ‘Oh, everyone here is being tricked’. With him is thirteen year old Obi Wan, a tiny child.  Xanatos, who beat them to the planet by about an hour strides dramatically as fuck from the other side of the potential battlefield shouting out ‘Qui Gon Jinn, you ass…’ before clocking the Jedi and going ‘Jedi’.

Feemor also lands and exits his ship from yet another direction, already looking like he had a headache, going ‘Qui Gon, what he Kriff’. 

Now the tense standoff between the Madalorians and the Jedi is derailed as everyone involved goes from violent rage to baffled rage. Also everyone recognizes that there is now a kid on the battlefield and no one wants to be the one to fight a tiny child. This does eventually defuse things enough that contacts can be exchanged and everyone gets to realize that the governor is the asshole.

Qui Gon refuses to elaborate (and frankly is unable to elaborate, he has no information only vibes) on the ‘Everyone is being tricked’ thing. Or what he meant when he wandered up to Jango Fett, peered at him, and told him ‘You’re not the right one, but I won’t hold it against you’ (what Qui Gon means, even if he doesn’t realize it, is that Jango is not Cody).  At some point or another during the time that they are figuring this out, everyone in the combined party of Jedi/Darksiders/Mandalorians/Other says ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ (This includes two Deathwatch prisoners captured during the campaign).

Throughout this Xanatos keeps trying to corner other Jedi to get them to take on Obi Wan, except he is also not great at communicating his intentions, so it is perceived that he is trying to get rid of Obi Wan so that he can have Qui Gon to himself.  No one is willing to question any further, though most are a little freaked out. 

IDEA 2

The second idea is not quite as detailed. It’s a Read/Watch the series.  Again we start from Qui Gon telling Obi Wan that he is destined to fall. The Force pulls everyone (initiates, knights, Masters, and the Council members) in the area outside of time where they watch the Movies and shows (Starting with TPM and watching in chronological Order: The prequels, The Clone Wars, Kenobi, the OT) with a focus on Obi Wan Kenobi.  

So everyone gets to go ‘Oh, Obi Wan is actually awesome’. Except of course for Obi Wan, who nearly has a breakdown believing that this is proof that he should not be a Jedi knight (somehow convinced that the Purge/Order 66 is actually his own fault). 

So now Obi Wan has a plethora of Masters who want to train him (including Qui Gon, who again believes that Obi Wan must be the Chosen One) , additional trauma of survivor's guilt before the events that he survived, and a shiny new appointment with the mind healers. He also has the admiration of the initiates that had previously bullied him. 

The Jedi council is able to piece together enough information on the Sith to try and change things, with varying results.

[stealingpotatoes]

some ppl very kindly loredumped abt the organa-solo kids for me so gonna put that + responses below the cut!! ↓

@erkhyan asked:

Don’t mind me, just dropping some Organa Solo kids lore, hopefully summarized enough. Anakin: both motivated and intimidated by the fact that his name was supposed to redeem that of his grandpa. Had his grandpa’s qualities (excellent pilot, great warrior, very strong in the Force) but none of his negative trait. Traumatized by being unable to save Chewie. Died a hero at age 16 during a successful mission to destroy a Jedi-killing weapon. Jacen: a big, empathetic goof as a teen, but was traumatized by the war that killed Anakin. The war and the trauma of Anakin’s death turned him into an introspective monk who went to learn weird non-Jedi Force powers. Returned, fathered a secret daughter, fell to the Dark Side because the Force told him that every timeline in which he’s not a Sith ends badly for his daughter. Became a Sith Lord by killing mara jade Skywalker. Eventually died when he found himself having to choose between saving his daughter from an Imperial plot, and dodging his sister’s lightsaber. Jaina: best pilot, best lightsaber user, best warrior, earned the nickname of Sword of the Jedi. Unfortunately, people mostly remember the fact that she was stuck in the world’s most annoying love triangle for two decades in-universe. And that time she processed the trauma of Anakin’s death by trying to seduce her Jedi Master. And that time she was in a bug hivemind that tried to solve her love triangle with a sexy threesome. And that time she went to train under Boba Fett so that she could kill Jacen in Luke’s stead. And also because the Jedi Order finally recognizing that she should have been a made a Master years ago, was almost the LAST thing that happened in the Legends continuity. Heavily implied that her husband would have eventually become Emperor (but a good one) if the continuity had been allowed to go on.

CHEWIE DIED??????????? also christ thats a lot to put on poor lil anakin jr-- ALSO AGAIN. POOR LEIA. HASNT SHE BEEN THRU ENOUGH (poor han too but LEIA)

WHY ARE THERE MORE STAR WARSES!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!! a secret daughter hi i love those but AGAIN. POOR LEIA. A SITH. FR HE KILLED MARA JADE WHAT???????????? oh my god.

i support jaina's turboslaggery she's been thru so much also WHAT potential emperor husband????????? wow ok legends gets wilder n wilder

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@novastargalaxydesigns asked:

I saw your Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin from Legends! And as someone who freaking adores that trio, I'd love to help point out a few things! In Legends of the Force, Jacen starts to affiliate himself with the Dark Side with his cousin, Ben, as his apprentice. Anakin was killed before the book, The Joiner King, and I didn't get the book that he was killed off in, but if I remember correctly, it was told in The Joiner King that he was killed during a mission as a fighter pilot. Jaina, in Legends of the Force I believe if I remember correctly, she gave up being a Jedi to be a pilot. I don't have all of the Legends of the Force books so I may be a bit spiffy on a few things. But we cannot forget Chewbacca's nephew, Lowbacca aka Lowie, and Jacen's childhood and teen hood crush, Tenel Ka whom is a princess and he accidentally cut her hand off with his new lightsaber during the book Young Jedi Knights Lightsabers. And Zekke who went to the dark side in the series Young Jedi Knights (I only got the first 3), but was redeemed. Anyone please correct my nerdiness if I'm wrong. But anygays, you has been educated by a fluffy bean. Had a lovely day!

JACEN CORRUPTS LUKE'S KID??????? HUH?????? CAN THE SKYWALKERS NOT CATCH LIKE. ONE SINGLE BREAK FROM THE DARKSIDE EVER???????? PLEASE

sorry all i can think w the tenel ka thing is:

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@m0th-person asked:

To follow up on the solo kids ask, Jaina had a weird love life. Her love interest that she eventually married was Jagged Fel. He is the son of the former baron of the empire , Sootir Fel, and Syal Antilles-Fel (Wedge Antilles sister) . (a picture I found on Wookieepedia when he was imperial head of state, the white streak in the hair seems to be genetic) Jag grew up in Thrawn’s empire of the hand (and was grown up with the chiss expectations, that’s literally the second quote on his wookieepedia page)

he had 3 out of his 5 other siblings die. He eventually became the imperial head of state (he first lost to his rival political candidate for the role because abeloth messed with it) and flash forward to the legacy comics, his descendants have revamped the imperial remnant into the Fel Empire. It’s mostly believed that his descendants are also Jaina’s because both Roan fel and his daughter empress Marasiah Fel are both force sensitive. And Jacen Solo’s descendant , Ania Solo, says she’s a distant cousin of Marasiah. (Roan)

(Marasiah and her love interest) ( the imperial knights were grey Jedi that served the Fel empire) — and in legends Han actually had a family tree (ancestors, specifically, Jonash e solo (who was Corellian royalty and the admiral-prince during the old republic time period)) , and him and Jagged fel’s father used to rivals in the imperial academy. Darth Vader attended his class graduation and I only find this funny because Han became his son-in-law.

jaina was rlly living that booktok enemies to lovers life back in the 90s huh. go girl i love her and support her weird love life decisions so much

omg go han having fancy royalty ties <3 see hanleia IS politically advantageous

[darkdemeter]

Hey hey, could i please have a request?

So imagine that the reader is traveling with death to restore the humanity and they get along so well and are kind of flirty and the reader is falling for him. One day they meet Vulgrim and she out of curiosity falls into his serpent hole and is transported to the past to meet the young and unruly death, who we know was a menace when younger. And then they have their interactions the reader goes back to the current version of death. How do you think that would go?

Have a lovely day and thank you for your work!

EVEN DEATH WAS ONCE YOUNG

◤✘DARKSIDERS COLUMN | Death x Female Reader

NOTES: ↳ OH. MY. GOSH. ANON! Writing this was the bomb!! Interesting concept, a wonderful opportunity to explore pre-horseman "younger" Death. I tried to keep a balance between his more mature personality while also having some fun with giving him a bit of spunk -- I couldn't stop giggling! WARNINGS! ↳ Just death being a bit of a young menace, but he kinda cute doing it sooo.... but like there's also fluff/hurt stuff?

✎5.4k ────────────────

When people used to say: “I wish I could meet the younger version of you.” They don’t actually know what they’re asking for. Because who in their right mind would want to meet Death in the prime of his bloodlust? 

The thought struck a fancy with you after your encounter with the demoness, Lilith. Her presence exotic and threatening without explicitly doing anything remotely violent. It was the sensual octave that carried her words like a lullaby you had found forbidding to hear, yet you fall prey to the temptation to hear just one more word.

That didn’t stop you from hiding behind Death, his back rigid to the point the knocks of his spine straightened slightly when her hand lingered a little too close to brush a stray framing of hair out from your face. 

But it was what she recounted that piqued your curiosity. Her children. Enriching lore of a species most loathed from long ago, a bloody crusade where they met their end by Death’s hands. From her retelling and the mystical pulse of life that beats in the embedded shards in his chest, even speaking of them appeared to pain him both physically and mentally. A burden you could never carry for him nor tell him to abandon. 

For a human, whose patience often wanes at the smallest of inconvenience, you show a lot of compassion and understanding for the weight on his shoulders. And never would you know exactly how thankful Death has become for your company. At times almost yearning for it whenever you are but a few feet away, or the thought crosses his mind to take you back to the Tri-Forge and leave you in the Maker’s care. Your fragility means more to him now than it has before, sometimes just looking at you eases just a fraction of that guilt he pushes deeper down. 

You’d both formed far too much of a bond so unnatural to the opinion of others, yet it fell into some assortment of right for you. 

You can’t possibly imagine being left behind, not now. Not after how far you have come all this way together. 

But yes, that saying. Did people ever realise what it was they were saying? 

“Meeting the mother-in-law already, baby albums and all.” Your voice crackles on the hot, muggy wind that travels through this slice of inferno, sky a spiral of darkness and hellfire smog. “Dare I say it, I wish I could meet the younger—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” he warns with a low and thorough rasp that rattled in his chest. 

You cannot help but spare him a teasing wrinkle of your nose and puckering your tongue out between your teeth, body twisting from side to side innocently.

You can’t help but chuckle with a slight bounce in your step. “Sounds like you were quite the bad boy.”

You merely roll your eyes as he gruffly replies with a huff, “Your perception cannot possibly begin to fathom the prime of my youth… or handle it.”

Despite his attempt of coming off cool and collected, you could hear the bitter coil of something else underline his words. 

Oh, how mystical and dark and brooding he always was and portrayed himself to be. You’re sure that there is something a little less grim beneath that rough exterior. Hell — and that saying excludes your current locale — you have witnessed it before in the engagements of fun conversation that go back and forth to the point that a victor who gets the last say is indeterminable sometimes. So he’s not completely a lost cause of being impenetrable, he’s entertained you before with quite a few situations that you classified as flirting. Who knew that Death himself could make you blush bright and red?

He was close to claiming that title of victory this time, until you pad along to stop right in the middle of his tracks, his chest barely able to stop from bumping into you and causing your balance off kilter for a moment. 

“Come on, Death, at this point of travelling together, I can handle anything.”

He looks past your nonchalant grin and over your shoulder, seeming to cock a brow beneath the greying bone of his mask.

“Really now?” he hums, “Duck.”

“Wh—” you dare not finish to question him as you immediately take to assuming position, ducking low to the ground in preparation of an oncoming ambush unseen by you.

But it never comes. You hear a gravelly rumble of a chuckle emit from the reaper before you, his shoulders jostling a little with the motion. Your lips purse together and you scowl at him with everything you can muster to no avail of affecting him.

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny,” you snark back, walking alongside him as he continues to set your traversing pace. 

Noticing that he was heading back the way you came, you jutt a thumb to point behind you “Aren’t we meant to be going that way?” 

“Your sense of direction has improved astonishingly, girl,” Death snickers dryly, the slur of flirty endearment almost lost in his words. He continues, “We’re paying a visit to Vulgrim.” 

Ugh, even saying that name brings a ghoulish, slimy chill to climb your spine uncomfortably. 

“Horseman,” The greenish bulbs of his eyes shrink behind a wrinkling brow of pale, craggily skin. Then his eyes see you and the form in which they almost bulge from their sockets sickens you. “And your little human companion! Your scent is just as… lovely as ever, my dear.” 

The gaping maw of his lipless mouth twists into a creeping grin so unnerving it causes knots of fear to tie in your gut. 

“Uh, no,” you say with an adamant shake of your head. No way in this life or the next would you trade your soul to Vulgrim of all fiends. Death had warned you to just keep your soul to yourself in general if offered to sell it for a little something in return. 

“Your dealings are with me, Vulgrim.” Death is clear and quick to establish your presence before the serpent hole. The demon trader, sighing grimly with a black, slimy tongue ringing over his cracked and deformed fangs, addresses Death. 

“Very well. Let us see what I have to offer… and what you can afford.”

Vulgrim usually dances about his serpent hole but never ventured too far if he can help it, usually to usher you away from it with a warning, “If you know what is best for your longevity, stay away from there.” 

And most of the time, Death kept a watchful eye on you to keep you from falling face first into the next trap of trouble. However, this time around, the pool of green mist is left surprisingly unguarded. With a curious tilt of your head and scrunch of your nose, your boots pad on over as you walk towards it. 

You can’t make out a bottom through the wafting cloud of mist that rises from the hole. Still you arch your body to peer over the edge and down into it as though you’d find something soon enough if you just inch that little bit—

“Human!” Death bellows as he rushes to you, only just seeing your form stumble and fall forward. A yelp of surprise turns into a blood-curdling scream as you sink into the smoggy abyss. The green haze around you fades into a darker shade until all around you is black nothingness. Your voice throws over into a thousand echoes that follow you. You’re still falling. At least it feels that way and for a moment you think you’ve closed your eyes; it’s hard to tell with the inky black around you.

A bright tone paints onto the surface of your closed eyes and you fall onto ground, dusty and hard, small rocks jab and scrape as you land. The brunt of the fall knocks the wind from you and you take a moment to recover your bearings, soon to rise to your feet and brush off the smears of dirt on your clothes.

“Okay. Duly noted: do not go anywhere near serpent holes,” you affirm strongly with newfound belief, only to be met by silence.

No scolding words that apprehend your actions. Not the familiar grasp of a cold, large hand that strangely warms you and causes your heart rate to pick up a little faster. No, you turn and shift on your heel to scan all directions about you. 

“Uhm… Death? Vulgrim?” You’ve spun yourself into a circle a million times over by now. “Anyone? Hello?”

For certain this is not the same slice of hell you had accompanied Death to and no serpent hole was in sight. Instead, you're in some cavernous valley of dust land and patches of grass and foliage, in the distance stands the mounds of high reaching cliff sides. 

Where exactly are you? 

As a human evidently from earth, you had never once had the ability to traverse any realm unfamiliar. In fact, you never knew of the possible existence of them. And after meeting Death, you were strictly told to stay close. Realms harboured dangers of their own, a breed of some civilisation that undoubtedly hurt you if you ran off by yourself. 

And now you’re beginning to feel that seeping dread of despair dawn within you. That sulking hopelessness that you have cast yourself to some unknown corner of the cosmos, and Death has no idea where you dropped off to. 

“Death?” You ask aloud again. Were you lost forever? 

You begin to head off in a direction, putting the sun to your left as you look around for ideally any serpent holes that can hopefully drop you back where you belong. With Death. Without him here, you feel like a newborn fawn stumbling on its legs. He always made you feel safe, always ensured he was between you and whatever threat that tried to get you, even if he got hurt because of it. 

You continue to call out to the wind that sweeps over you, the sun beating down hard. You brush aside a flurry of hair from your face, your pace slowing exponentially as you practically stumble through this unknown territory.

That’s when that sixth sense kicks in. You’re not sure if you had been ignoring the signs before or if the feeling just came, but all the same you feel that you’re being watched.

You’ve barely dived out of the way before something large crashes behind you, the scraping of claws digging into the crusty soil and the shifting balance of weight kicks up a cloud of dust behind the force of the leaping attack. Turning to face whatever it was, you grimace at the sight of a mangy looking hound that dwarfs you. Its skin is a burnt hue of reddish pink like it suffered constant exposure to the sun, what matted fur that lined its spine and cuffed around its ribs was a dark, sandy brown with dark, faded stripes. Its ears twitch as a high pitched wheeze passes through its open jaw that pries open like a snake. Rows of black teeth are coated in an oily surface of dripping saliva. 

You see another grapple down the cliff face to join the first, this one notably smaller, but not by much. Then another of the same size joins the second, each one stalking closer to corner you in. 

A piercing sharpness fills your chest and your hand grasps at the handle of your dagger. A simple form of defence, highly unlikely to fend off the predators easily, but better than nothing. 

Right about now, that favourable reaper of yours would be excellent company. There were so many things you wished you had said, times you procrastinated moving that bit closer to his side by the evening campfire meant for your safety and sanity. You fear that this is your end. For your quest in restoring humanity, one more human will be lost today, and Death will have to bear that burden. It saddens you in a way. That the guilt would eat away at him. 

One of the smaller hounds takes no more than a few steps forward, just about ready to pounce at you before a humming force sings through the air and with a meaty crunch of bone and mushed brain, an all familiar scythe fatally sheathed in its skull. 

You fall back on your arse, a relieved grin digs deep into your cheeks as you think Death has somehow found you. 

You look around, eager to see him, barely catching something fast cut through the corner of your vision. The next thing you know, the head of the second smaller hound rolls over, its tongue hanging loosely between its jaws, the decapitated appendage just resting at the heel of your boots. The sight makes you grumble in dull disgust.

However, you are brought into the shadow of the larger creature that now towers above you, caught with a gulp in your throat. By your lucky stars, its attention diverts from you and to your rescuer and dives forward. 

You only just turn your head when a pained shriek howls through the air and a severed limb flies some distance away. Followed by another and then a third limb, leaving the defeated creature to begin crawling away with a distorted whine. 

His silhouette bathed in the scorching sun is a sight of relief, though his attire had changed. Not the draping tabard of violet tied about his waist or the deep purple scarf hung over his shoulders. Mostly an assortment of bandages wrapped and woven around his arms, clad in iron fittings. He steps after the beast, following along the weeping trail of blood smeared into the dirt, scythes coming together as the long staff of Harvester and placed to his back. 

Your face contorts in response to the sheer brutality before you, visage twitching in your frazzled comprehension. Yes, Death had a very violent tendency to be dangerously savage, but he was well versed in being precise, but never at this level. Seeing him utilise naught but his inhuman strength at his disposal and his hands, he rips the hound’s upper jaw clean off until sheets of sinew and muscle were reduced to hair-thin threads. 

He drops the unhinged part to his feet with a wet, clumpy thump. Even you have to internally argue that Death may have lost himself a little there. When his head turns over his shoulder, the flicker of an amber glow catching you in his sights, you cannot help the reaction to freeze as you roll onto your belly. 

Something unfamiliar resides in his gaze like he’s seeing you for the first time. But rather than the confusion of an older entity seeing one of the many souls still alive, there is a frenzy of anger – adrenaline running a high river through him, driving him bloodmad. 

His upper body then begins to turn only to halt when you utter his name, form rigid in his study of you. Again, you try, “Death? Hey, it’s me.”

Immediately you’re met by the unsheathed blade of Harvester aimed against you and you skitter back with a hiss as the massive blade knicks your cheek. 

“Hey! Careful with that— what’s gotten into you?”

“Who are you?” 

Your face scrunches, a morphed complaint of your confusion. He only attempts to raise his scythe to your neck with a threat to render you headless at his whim. 

“I-it’s me, hello!” you laugh with bitter nervousness, “you know me. Y/N, the human you’ve been travelling with.”

He gives no form of recollection. Not that he’s easy to read with that mask of his, hiding all but the expression in his eyes. Or the way he narrows them upon hearing one word: Human. Call it intuition, a gut feeling, a divine touch; you feel that that word held some powerful trigger to the Horseman before you. And none that you had seen in him before. Almost a zeal of intense excitement flourishes in the furnace heart of his eyes. 

“A human?” Harvester balances in his grasp to lean against his shoulder, a curious tilt of his head somehow influences you to mimic the action with an affirmative hum.

“Uh-huh. We were on our way to restore humanity. We went extinct, remember?” 

“Really now?” 

When he begins to stalk closer and inching the gap between you shorter, you find yourself taking a few steps back. Something was… off. Death isn’t like his usual self. The concept of humans didn’t really phase him in such a way before. He just thought of humanity and their restoration as a mere key to gaining his brother’s freedom. Somehow integral to the balance but never once serving importance to him. But now, before your very eyes, he appears with a dark excitement as he looks you over. Like your very existence piques him. 

Was he flirting with his leash ten yards behind him? 

Now that’s very unlike your old reaper—

There’s a thought: he is not… that old. Sure, old by some standard in the scheme of time, but compared to when you were travelling together, you come to realise how noticeably younger he is. And still, he advances towards you until his shadow overthrows you, drowning you in it. 

Even if you wanted to chalk up your thoughts to some conspiracy, you also notice that there is a sore lack of soul-cursed shards embedded into the taut muscle of his chest. 

Alright. Now you’re beginning to put the pieces of this puzzle together. You have somehow landed in the great, great past.

It’s like your wish became a manifested reality. 

Bathed in the sunless dark of his shadow, your feet intend to shuffle back, only for his arm that handles his massive scythe extends forth, the pole of it acting as some guard that keeps you from moving any further away. 

You mumble to yourself then, resigning in your compliance to remain where you stand. He may not be trying to directly hurt you now, but if given the motivation, you could yet stand corrected. 

He continues to stare at you, long and hard pressing, you feel like an ant under the heated blink of a glass scope that is threatened to burn. A matter of curiosity is all you can surmise it to the way his neck extends forward, bending down until the bone form of his masked nose hovers over you, near deathly silent but still largely inhaling your scent.

The act is enough for that heated flush to deep into your skin. 

“Hey—hey, easy there, big guy,” you warn, voice wavering from the way he merely tilts his head before leaning in again. “No, I said n-no! Stop that—no, that tickles!” 

Upon you practically beating him away with the ferocity of your mitten gloves, he then circles you like a predatory beast. 

“How is this possible? Humanity’s creation has not yet come,” he inquisitively says. 

You give a shrug, choosing to be a little more careful of your words. Would anything you do or say alter time itself and affect your supposed present? 

Just with you being here would be enough to do just that if Death’s claim that humans weren’t born yet is true. 

“Uh, well… it’s not so simple to explain. You see, I er—”

Shit this was getting more and more difficult to explain with the growing anxiety dangerously lurking over you like a foreboding cloud. 

“I’m not from here.”

You can almost see his brow curve upward under the mask. “Evidently,” he drawls deeply in response. 

With a roll of your eyes you try again. 

“All I know is that I somehow fell through some serpent hole and got transported back in time. Now, I gotta find a way back.” 

“You mean to leave?” 

Already turning your back on him – unaware of such a grave mistake – you only nod in response, your eyes last to leave him. Who knows how much longer you will have to endure here before Death finds and rescues you from his younger self. 

But that just isn’t in your stack of cards. Again you’re almost blown to the four winds and land on the cushion of your arse, grumbling in pain as you stare up at him, standing right in the way of your path.

Your lips purse tightly together, you hiss, “Death!” 

He crouches in front of you, ignoring the way you attempt to pry him and push him away as he moves a hand forward. He holds your wrist at bay before you can land a firm push to his mask to shove him away, his amber eyes dance with a certain level of intrigue and his head tilting to the side leaves his raven hair to saddle alongside the motion. 

He peels the grubby article off your hand to reveal the bareness of your skin and you find yourself holding your own breath. 

His own hand measures yours, palm to palm and you feel the roughened contour of his skin. His body radiates with an off-centred heat, not entirely cold as he is in the present with you but the morph of warmth isn’t so smothering unlike some infernal realm you know. You almost see the softness that crosses his features beneath the boney helm of his mask, like the cracks of emotion are being revealed without your exact know-how. 

But you’ve known Death for some time now. You’ve been in his company. If this is some revelation of a breakthrough, then you see it before your very eyes. 

Each finger lines to one another. A curtain of silence falls over the both of you until your eyes meet. A smile creeps over your lips then. 

“Must you truly go?” he’s sudden to ask beneath the gravel baritone of his chords. With a sigh, you only nod your head. 

His eyes harden at this, something distraught lines his concealed face only to be betrayed by the levelled glow of his eyes, but nevertheless he stands, no longer keeping you from running off. As you make your way to stand on your own two feet, brushing off the particles of dirt off your clothes, you notice Death’s prolonged stare. 

“What is it?” 

He only shakes his head, a gruff response of, “Nothing.” 

Though his reply is suspiciously vague, you both venture off into the great unknown, however much you believe that Death is more accustomed to the land than you. 

Hours pass as the sun begins to ride your backs and no sight of any serpent holes, leaving you with a feeling of exhausted anguish. As the night creeps in as a shadowy blanket over the sky and turns the humid air colder, you pull your shawl over your body as a chill licks your spine. 

Death — no not your Death, the younger one — takes notice, eying you from the side of his vision. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You jerk your head in his direction with eyes wide in your perked alertness. “Hm? Oh, I’m just cold is all. Usually I’d have a fire set up by now to rest…”

Would it be wise to add that it was him — older him — beside you and ensuring you settle into your makeshift camp? Unsure, you keep that to yourself. 

When he places an overly large hand to your shoulder, you stumble on your heel and pause, watching Death’s head scan the horizon and the upper cliff faces until he stops. You turn your head and notice just in the crevice of shadow and fading sunlight the blackened mouth of a cave. 

Your eyes light up at the thought of rest despite your circumstances and you already begin your trek towards the rocky climb, though you now see the rather steep slope it resides to reach the haven. With a grumble, your determination steers you to climb anyways, your feet stumbling and causing small pebbles to scatter down the face. 

Hands then grab hold of you and before you’re able to fight or protest, Death scuttles up in a matter of seconds with you hanging on for dear life. After he sets you down, you huff out, “Thanks.” 

He gives a gruff sound in response with a curt nod, then turns to scour the new site of camp. It wasn’t so much as a cave as you thought, moreso of a sheltered crop in the rocks, providing enough area to protect you from the elements but also invites the cool winds to breeze on past. 

Making a fire was a challenge than it usually was, making due with what you had on hand, and Death sets Harvester to his side, leaning it against the wall. He doesn’t think you pose that much of a threat to warrant its persistent sheath. 

He however finds some interest in how you kindle the birth of flames, crafting it from almost nothing. 

Looking up at him from your position, you laugh softly to yourself. “Yeah, I know. Humans are so weak and strange. But it’s what we do. How we were made, I guess.”

“I didn’t say anything like that,” Death says with a clearly risen brow. His answer does bring you surprise. After all, Death had many times sighed and chuffed about how humans did the most silly of things – things that were key to your survival, keeping that in mind. 

“Well… you will. Someday.”

“How is it that you know me?” he asks, crouching on the fire’s opposite side, facing you. As much as you think it unwise to share anymore knowledge, you cannot deny that you feel almost safe around him, no matter the fact that he’s younger. In the prime of his bloodlust. 

But he hasn’t killed me yet. Tried to, but hasn’t. 

“It’s going to sound strange but… I’m from the future. And in that future, we are travelling together.”

“Because you said something of Humanity’s demise.” 

He’s Death alright. A keen observant to detail. You nod in reply before continuing, “and as I said, I fell through some sort of timeline and landed here in the past. The way, way past. So far that humans aren’t even created yet, as you’ve said.”

To this, he nods in turn and it brings you to smile. You feel as though he silently applauds your own recollection for detail. 

“Death, how old are you?” 

Yes, it is indeed perhaps a very stupid decision to ask his age, but the nature of curiosity humans are notoriously known for gets the better of you. His eyes flicker with momentary stutter, taken aback by such a question, but one he doesn’t ultimately deny in answering. 

“Today is my day of creation… I’m a thousand-and-one—”

Your eyes go wide and you shoot up to your feet with a cheer. “What? Happy Birthday!” 

Your voice is a loud noise to the shell of his hearing and it spurns him to the defence, beckoning Harvester to fly to his hand within an instant. You’re quickly covering your mouth, uttering your apologies at spooking him. 

Settling back down, this time to his side, you flash him a shy, toothy grin. “But that’s exciting!”

“What is a ‘birthday’?”

You gasp at the shocking revelation. “It’s a celebration. When humans are born on a certain day, it’s a tradition to celebrate it every year.”

Then it pops into your mind, again sending the nephilim beside you to flinch at your motion, you stir up a fuss of plucking a twig from the flames before it’s entirely devoured. Holding it, single flame slow to eat away the kindle, you beam as you stare at Death with large, doe-like eyes. 

“Make a wish!”

“A what?” He scoffs, only to see you dramatically roll your eyes until they’re nearly rolling out of their sockets. “A wish. You make a wish, something you really want, and then blow out the flame. Another tradition on your birthday.”

His eyes narrow to thin points, sceptical that perhaps you were using something to your advantage. When he sees that you don’t have any ill intent to deceive him, he shuffles in his spot slightly to face you, body arching ever so over yours; his height even at this level towers over you. 

You whisper softly, “Like this.” 

Making the motion of blowing out the makeshift candle with your mouth, the campfire casting an orange hue to your skin paints you in a fine detail that the nephilim cannot help but study closely until a there’s a skip in his chest.

His hand raises to his mask but stops and you see the hesitance to continue any further. Understanding that it very well could be because of your presence, you tilt your chin down and squeeze your eyes shut. 

A gust beats across your face, skirting the wisps of hair away and then just as promptly as he’d lifted his mask, he’d lowered it just in time for you to peel your eyes open. Again, you smile. 

He’s the first to crack through the veil of tension between you both, standing on his feet. 

“Get some rest, girl.”

The next day, you finally see in the distance the familiar halo of green and sick looking mists, but it is your ticket home nonetheless. You skip ahead and towards it, laughing at the thought of reuniting with Death and telling him of your adventure.

But then you stop. Not another skip in your step. You turn around to see Death, body rigid but his chin is aimed down and his eyes don’t exactly meet yours. Approaching him cautiously, you halt a few feet before him, hands pinned behind you. 

“I guess this is goodbye…”

You don’t very much like the eternal sound to your farewell. Like you’re losing him forever. 

He drawls out, low and lessened of any sort of emotion, but you swear you note a hint of sadness in his tone. “My wish didn’t come true.”

“What was your wish?”

His eyes rise to meet yours and you feel your heart splinter. Why did it feel so wrong to want to go back to Death in the future? Why did everything that wasn’t with him feel so, so wrong?

“I wish that you would stay here.”

“I can’t stay. I’m not from this time.” Your words do little to ease that which internally troubles him. Your hands coax his jaw to lift upwards until he stands, prouder and much taller over you that you have to balance on the toes of your feet. Then, you sweep your arms around him. His body is stiff to meet your hug but you care little in that regard. He’s always been one less evident of his affections, a tendency you’re completely fine with. 

“But I promise that we will meet again in the future. After all, that’s who I’m going back to through the serpent hole. To you.”

There it is, that flicker in his eyes that reveals in them a shiny glow of fire that you feel warms your heart in many ways. Pressing a chaste kiss to the toughened chin of his mask, you offer one last smile and bid your farewells with a wave, promising that you will see each other again before you jump into the serpent hole, disappearing into the green mists. 

You yelp as the void sends you crashing yet again and you fear that you have stumbled into yet another realm in another time. But for the first time, you find yourself relieved to hear Vulgrim’s slimy voice announce your arrival. 

“Ah! And there she is, the curious little mouse who doesn’t keep away from serpent holes,” he snides with a raspy coil like a snake getting ready to strike. 

“Vulgrim,” you poke your tongue out, brushing your hair from your face and you look to see Death charging his way to you. 

“There you are,” he says almost wistfully, hands pressed to your shoulders. A tender action even with the glare clear in his gaze. “What were you thinking? What happened to you?”

You know that beneath the roughness of his callous tone, he means well. He was worried and the look upon his younger self’s face as you left, you find yourself pulling yourself into him and embracing him. 

“I promised you that we’d meet again.”

His arms weave themselves around your waist, holding you to bear you closer in his embrace. “Yes, you did.”

[marvelstars]

I don´t know if this is an unpopular oppnion, I just have not seen this take often outside of fics but I honestly believe Anakin would not have fallen to the darkside if he stayed on Tatooine.

If he stayed with his mother he would not have been exposed to Palpatine in exchange of getting political good points, he would have been adopted by Cliegg Lars after he married Shmi, became Owen´s brother and Beru brother in law, he could have keep Shmi safe from the Tusken Raiders without resorting to violence because even as a child he had a more nuanced understanding of them enough to talk with them with Threepio´s help, in fact it was precisely this fact the thing that broke him when he found out about them kidnapping his mother, he thought they were simply misunderstood and his mind could not deal with this image and in his childhood they were vs his mother being slowly tortured to death in the space of 1 month, he would not have developed his Jedi skills but would have learned to use his force powers in an intuitive manner, just like Luke did in the OT.

While this happens, Palpatine probably would have taken over the galaxy with the Empire, be it because the invasion of Naboo got extended because Anakin wasn´t there to destroy the main control starship of the droid army or Anakin stayed enough to help Padme on Naboo and then came back to Tatooine to stay with his mother.

In this case, ten years later the clone wars would have started and the Jedi Order has the same trouble dealing with war without the training to do so which later would lead to them still be surrounded by an slaved clone army who would open fire the moment it was convenient. Palpatine didnt have an interest in another Jedi besides Anakin so this would lead to him taking on Count Dooku as his official apprentice.

Meanwhile Anakin at this point would have managed to fight off the Hutts over Tatooine and would just enter in conflict with the begginings of the Empire, just this time he would not have any kind of relationship to the Emperor and would just see them as slavers under another name given the chips used in the clone army and either obi-Wan or another Jedi survivor could have teached him about his force powers without having to sacrifice his mother relationship to him or being isolated from the Jedi order for most of his youth.

I also see Padme and Anakin falling in love here as well, I don´t see either of them staying away from fighting Palpatine´s Empire but this time their relationship would not have the added stress of being hidden or forbidden, Luke and Leia could have been born earlier this time.

I have only seen a few fics that tackle this scenario and most of them are about time travel in which an older Vader version of Anakin takes over young Anakin or personally gets to the past to raise himself as a father figure and fight the Emperor from the beggining of TPM but I believe this perfectly would have happened in canon if Anakin had stayed on Tatooine.

[daisychainsandbowties]

Idk, I just don't see Shin being 30 years old??? Ivanna Sakhno is 25, & Shin gives off even younger vibes. If she's in her early or mid 20s, she still would've been a kid during the height of the Empire & a teen when it collapsed, so there's plenty of angsty backstory to mine. Though as far as how an age gap plays out with Wolfwren... well, older women are sexy, yes? ;)

see this is the thing about characters who don’t get to have a childhood. i’m obsessed with the idea that shin hati is in her twenties, somewhere, but she behaves like a much younger person. part of it is the darkside, how it drives you and you end up lacking the composure of most jedi. how the spitting bright anger makes shin so violently luminous, untethered and lost and therefore childish.

because, in the same vein i think that sabine doesn’t feel settled into her life. there she stands, at the end of a war that really wasn’t supposed to end before she did. rebels all little self-sacrificial lambs who don’t know how to exist when they’re not clawing for every breath of air.

everything sabine cared, fought for, for has shattered around her. she won and lost it all.

her best friend is gone, things with ketsu are too complicated, always too many sharp edges for her to hold. and she’s just… stuck. watches her family die on mandalore and then loses her one chance at being something - a jedi, because she is no longer a rebel. not a traitor to her people but still not truly mandilorian. sabine with her boxes of keepsakes, her mother’s hairpin, the pain of death clutched to her chest and that promise she made to ezra to find him again. rotting inside her.

and i picture shin having been made a padawan around the same age as anakin skywalker. both of them too old too broken for it but. nowhere else to go. chosen to be better, stronger. beaten into the shape of destiny, ambition, want want want want

shin rescued, made important, but it was already too late for her not to be scarred by her life and yeah. for sure it can’t have been good, or soft, or safe. you don’t hand a kyber crystal to a child and watch her turn it red unless she’s seen and experienced terrible things.

but i also imagine that she was isolated in those years with baylan - it’s why she’s so taken with sabine!! because here is an equal to her, finally. it’s why she’s at first so smug and then so angry about winning. this blunt creature is the padawan of ahsoka tano?? how dare she be? so like, why not have her be late twenties and just messy messy messy? same as sabine who just… never was a child. first a soldier a weaponsmith and then at FOURTEEN she was a traitor, she watched her weapon kill her own people and she ran, became a bounty hunter. sabine who is young because when you lose your childhood you claw it back in later days. you never escape from the wreckage.

it really speaks to me, actually; they’re the same sort of thing that always washes up in the wake of a war. children who only know rubble and blood and hunger and death. they’re reflections of each other and also so different. shin who just wants to belong to something and sabine who knows that belonging doesn’t save you.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hello! Do you have any headcannons for the horsemen taking care of a female y/n on their period? Congrats on the 800 followers! :)

WOW, i haven't received anything Darksiders related in a long time!

Death:

Everyone is used to the fact that death is quite capable of everything, but in my opinion, in this matter, he's quite ignorant. It's hard to say if Nephilim were able to reproduce or if they worked just like us, so you can imagine that the first time he saw you bleeding, he almost believed that he wasn't able to protect you against an attack. Then, imagine his disbelief when your only response to that was an annoyed sigh and a whispered "great, that's all I need now". Despite this, he's fast at catching what perios is, why it's happening, and all that. And surprisingly, he's quite good at taking care of it and finding more natural solutions to it—or at least he knows who to ask for help from. Do you need help with period pain? Muira has to know a few herbs that can help you heal the pain. Do you need to relieve some stress? Let's go and try some combat skills with Draven! Your muscles are stiff, and the only thing you want is to relax. Let's try a hot spring. He knew just the right place.

War:

The first time he caught you leaking blood was in your sleep. His sense of smell is quite good, especially with you, and he almost had a panic attack once he found your nether regions covered in your own blood. Once he calmed down (you had to calm him down), you explained to him what a period is, that your race had taken care of it from the beginning, and that it's not lethal. After this explanation, he starts to believe that human women are on a totally different level. Not only are they forced to live with this condition, but some of them are even capable of facing the pain of it! Phisycall and mentally! Unfortunately, he's not an expert in these matters, but he will try everything to ease your pain or help you with it. He'll ask Vulgrim about something that can ease your cramps or make you ride Ruin so it doesn't stress you too much. In your private moments, he'll shield you himself, letting the heat from his body ease your poor muscles.

Fury:

If you think that you can gain some female sympathy from Fury, darling, you're wrong. Not only is she completely ignorant of what a period is, she'll dismiss any possible attempts by you to explain yourself! Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? No? Good, then do not complain too much; we have a mission. Seriously, the only one here who shows some kind of nicety to you is the watcher, but even she is unaware of what is happening in your body. Only after you have collapsed from the pain of the cramps and given a good shout to the horseman will Fury start to consider your condition. The female humans in Ulthane's care will share with you a few of the medicines that they were able to get and give you some spare pants, but after that, finally, Fury will start questioning you about this thing. As I said, she's ignorant about it, but she's fast to learn. Not only that, but she'll start questioning you about your condition, asking you if it's going to happen again. Imagine her relief after knowing that it's a thing that happens once a month.

Strife:

"...How many times?" "Once in a month, around every 28 days." "Ah... and it's painful?" "Well, by human standards, it is almost bearable, but some others suffer quite a lot from it..." "...Seriously, what have you done to make the creator so angry to give you something so horrifying?"

Honestly, Strife's first impression of the human period was a huge WTF? Why?! Why the hell are human women supposed to face that? Why was it supposed to start when you were so young? And why was he not informed about it? He's confused, a little disgusted, and...impressed? No, seriously, you all are taking care of it like pros; you even joke about it! It's not surprising that your pain threshold was so high! After that, he'll become your period knight! He'll carry you like the queen that you are! Providing you with all the requests that you ask of him! Chocolate? Got it, chips? Let's go. Pineapple pizza? A painful experience, but he'll face it for you. No matter how many times you try to convince him that you don't need that treatment, he won't back down!

[doodlesdreaming]

Writing Idea: The other Horsemen learning Death lost a fiddling contest to some random human kid

(Anyone who has watched my darksiders streams will instantly get this joke. If not...well hope you enjoy anyway. XD)

There are a good handful of words that Strife would use to describe Death. 'Sarcastic', 'Cold', 'Jackass,' to name a few. 'Hoarder', on the other hand, not in a million years... until now,

"God damn...just how much stuff do you need!? Half of these is just junk."

The gunslinger tossed aside what looked to have been an angelic relic of some sort. But the piece was cracked nearly in two, rendering it useless. Grumbling, he continued to sort through a large, self made, pile of various gear and weaponry, much like his other siblings in several spots of Death's bone built abode. The sound of steel unsteathing from leather, turned his attention up to Fury admiring a katanta shaped sword.

"Not everything here is junk, Strife." Fury spoke with a smile curling on her lips. Her eyes, as bright as the rest of the Four, seem to gleam in the light of the blade in her hands, just as the hand of her eldest brother promptly snatched it from her grasp,

"None of it is junk." Death retorted, "And if you looked as fast as you move your mouth, Strife, we would be well on our way by now."

"It would REALLY help if you remembered where you put the damn thing to begin with!" Strife glared, temper ever so slightly beginning to boil.

"How did this mess even come to be anyhow?" War questioned as he joined the rest of his kin in the 'master bedroom' of the house, "Your home, empty as it is, is at most organized. But last I was here, there wasn't much to begin with."

"Vulgrim." Death explained, sighing in annoyance. "Apparently, after I was...indisposed, he dumped all my gear in my house. While keeping some of it to himself, as I've come to learn."

"Like Harvester..." War sneered, "I still wonder how he got his filthy hands on your scythe . Or what else he might be hiding in his void holes, like your golden fiddle, for instance. I do not see it among this horde."

"Woah woah woah, his what now?" Strife froze as he was setting aside a pair of boots to turn fully towards his little brother, "His...golden fiddle? You're joking, right? Death? With any sort of instrument?"

"I would not lie about this, brother." War told him, "I distinctly remember seeing a golden instrument hanging up on his wall when I was here during the Battle of the Abomination Vault. I meant to ask about it, Death, but I had forgotten about it after the fight. And now, it appears to be missing."

Death said nothing. He appeared frozen in place, bent over a set of gear. He slowly stood up, turning to face his siblings, with the most neutral face he could pull behind his bone mask, "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about, War."

"I could've sworn..." War mused, beginning to wonder if maybe he had mis-remembered. It had been over several centuries ago.

"Did you so happen to lose it to some kid with musical talents that far surpassed your own?" Everyone glanced towards Fury, who leaned over a rather large set of armor, smirking up at her eldest like a cherisare cat,

"There so happens to be a popular tune the humans like to sing, of a devil who went to some place called Georgia, looking for souls when he came across a young fiddle player. The devil bet his golden fiddle that he could play better and lost." Fury curled her hands under her chin, smiling oh so sweet and innocent like, "Could perhaps that devil be you?"

The silence that filled the room was nearly deafening. War and Strife looked to Death to see what he would say, only to see the Pale Rider slowly cross his arms and turn to look away from his siblings' stares.

"That brat swore he wouldn't tell a soul..."

War and Fury fought to keep rising snickers in check, but Strife did not even try. He roared into infectious laughter that broke the other two. Growling,Death tossed a leather worn boot at Strife’s head. The White Rider promptly ducked and scrambled to flee as Death gave chase.

[elenavr13]

Darkiplier/Damien Playlist (Updated)

172 songs

Evermore- Dan Stevens

Everybody Wants To Tule the World- Lorde

Control- Halsey

Gasoline- Halsey

Dynasty- MIIA

Judas- Lady Gaga

Take Me To Church- Hozier

Castle- Halsey

Sing To Me- MISSIO

Kamikazee- MISSIO

Panic Room- Au/Ra

Isolate- Sub Urban

Elastic Heart (Rock Cover)- Written by Wolves

Crossfire- Stephen

Dead!- My Chemical Romance

Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots

Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift

Smooth Criminal- Michael Jackson

The Voice of Darkiplier- Markiplier

I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys

In His Eyes- Jekyll & Hyde (musical)

Can You Feel My Heart- Bring Me to the Horizon

Feeling Good- Michael Buble

Can You Feel My Heart x Favorite Dress (slowed)- Miro remix

My Demons- Starset

Achilles Come Down- Gang of Youth

Monster- Skillet

What’s the Use of Feeling Blue- Caleb Hyles

Where I Want to Be- Chess in Concert

Can’t Help Falling In Love- Ice Nine Kills

The American Nightmare- Ice Nine Kills

A Grave Mistake- Ice Nine Kills

Left Behind- DAGames

Farewell II Flesh- Ice Nine Kills

Below the Surface- Griffinilla

The Wrecked and the Worried- NateWantsToBattle

You Can’t Take Me Anywhere- NateWantsToBattle

Goner- Twenty One Pilots

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid- The Offspring

Fake You Out- Twenty One Pilots

Miss You- Corpse

Epoch- The Living Tombstone

In the End- Linkin Park

Me, Myself & Hyde- Ice Nine Kills

The World In My Hands- Ice Nine Kills

Popular Monster- Falling In Reverse

Monster- Imagine Dragons

What I Could Have Been- Sting

Hushh- AViVA

Phantom of the Opera

Darkside- NEONI

Broken- DNMO & Sub Urban

Killer In the Mirror- Set It Off

Doubt- Twenty One Pilots

I’m Not Okay- My Chemical Romance

Friends on the Other Side- Princess and the Frog

Poison- WE ARE THE FURY

Apologize- One Republic

My Lullaby (metal cover)- Jonathan Young

I See Red (slowed)- Everybody Loves an Outlaw

Tear In My Heart- Twenty One Pilots

I Hate Everything About You- Three Days Grace

F.L.Y- Ice Nine Kills

Migraine- Twenty One Pilots

Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots

Demons- MISSIO

Snakes- PVRIS & MIYAVI

Villain- KDA

Royalty- Egzod & Maestro Chives ft. Neoni

The Red Means I Love You- Madds Buckley

Loser- Neoni

Not Ready To Die- Avenged Sevenfold

I Want You- Mitski

Poltergeist- Corpse

Life Waster- Corpse

All Of Me (slowed)- John Legend

Young And Beautiful- Lana Del Rey

Dark Paradise (slowed)- Lana Del Rey

How Villains Are Made- Madalen Duke

Love and War- Fluerie

Dark Things- Adona

Wicked Game- Ursine Vulpine

Neptune- Sleeping At Last

Enemy- Tommee Profitt

Far From Home (The Raven)- Sam Tinnesz

City Of The Dead- Eurielle

Throne- Saint Mesa

Paint it, Black- Ciara cover

Man Or A Monster- Sam Tinnesz

Dark On Me- Starset

Hell’s Comin’ With Me- Poor Mans Poison

Wires- The Neighbourhood

Liquid Smooth- Mitski

Little Dark Age- MGMT

Devil In Disguise- Elvis (LLusion)

Toxic- 2WEI

Dark Room- Foreign Figures & EJ Michels

Heathens- Twenty One Pilots

Dance With The Devil- Breaking Benjamin

Black Out Days- Phantogram

Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

Monsters- Ruelle

Whispers In The Dark- Skillet

Salvaged- NateWantsToBattle

Saint Bernard- Lincoln

F*ck You- Silent Child

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead- Thomas Borchert, Brandi Burkhardt

Broken Inside- Broken Iris

Sweet Dreams- Besomorph

EVIL- AViVA

Saints- Echos

Screaming Bloody Murder- Sum 41

Dandelions (slowed)- Ruth B

Master Mirror- Ashley Serena

Everyday A Little Death- The Count of Monte Cristo

FREAK- Jordan Friction

Broken (slowed)- lovelytheband

Michelle- Sir Chloe

Like A Villain- BAD OMENS

If It’s Vengeance You Want- Unlike Pluto

Monster- Fight The Fade

Listen Before I Go- Billie Eilish

Mary On a Cross (slowed)- Ghost

R.I.F.P.- MOTHICA

Nervous- Lola Blanc

Unravel- Johnathan Young

Lost In Paradise- Evanescence

Lies- Evanescence

Haunted- Laura Les

Dread- Unlike Pluto

Monsters- Shinedown

Black Soul- Shinedown

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last

Seeing Red- Saint Chaos

Villain- Bella Poarch

Lithium- Nirvana

Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana

Down With The Sickness- Disturbed

Animal I Have Become- Three Day Grace

Greed- Godsmack

One of Us is the Killer- The Dillinger Escape Plan

All The King’s Horses- Karmina

Gilded Lily- Cults

Haunted & Unwanted- NateWantsToBattle

Symbol of My Regret- NateWantsToBattle

In My Head- NateWantsToBattle

Vendetta- Unsecret & Krigare

Nothing To Me- NateWantsToBattle

Chasing Cars- Sleeping At Last

Villain- MISSIO

Used to the Darkness- Des Rocs

Unforgiven- Ghost Nation

Monster- Starset

Eight- Sleeping At Last

Already Gone- Sleeping At Last

Devilish- The Phantoms

Motherland- Reach

Falling Away From Me- Korn

Just a Man- Jorge Rivera-Herrans & EPIC Ensemble

Something Wicked- Starset

Darkness in Me- Fight The Fade

I Would Die for You- In This Moment

Eye For An Eye- Rina Sawayama

Psycho in my Head- Skillet

Done With Everything- Line So Thin

Monster- Besomorph

Twisted Games- Night Panda, Krigarè

Killer Inside of Me- Willyecho

King For A Day- Pierce The Veil ft. Kellin Quinn

someone i’m not- Layto

[sith-obikin]

FINAL ROUND-UP ❤️‍🔥

Here are the last submissions to the first edition of the Sith Obikin Fest! In total we received over 40 works🔥

Stay tuned for our next announcements / thank-yous and a very exciting project coming SOON!

• Birth Astride A Grave (a play in two acts) by nngi_e

After his defeat on the fiery shores of Mustafar, a captive Obi-Wan Kenobi receives four visitors in the darkness of his cell:

a beloved Master long gone,

a beautiful Queen shrouded in blue,

a cruel Shadow covered in scars,

and the Sun at the center of it all.

• Vader Closes In by ArtisticlyBeautiful

Vader finds Obi-Wan in his cave on Tatooine. He will do whatever it takes for Obi-Wan to feel the heartache he has to live with now.

Set during the Kenobi series.

DW: Non-con, bottom obi-wan, ruthless vader

DNW: Piss, sweetness

• Three Measures of Blood by your cheap thrills (eurosthewanderer)

Sith! Obi-Wan stumbles upon a boy in his travels and instantly feels his great potential in the Force.

He snatches Anakin before anyone else can and proceeds to teach him the ways of the Dark Side.

DW: Go wild. Anything like the Jedi Quest or Rogue Planet, but they are both Sith. Perfect excuse to dive into the Sith lore and create their practices. You can make it as long as you want with Anakin of any age. But the world-building of the Sith is essential.

DNW: Only brief mentions of the teachings. Seriously, you can make it as wild as you can, but details are essential.

• wild animals i have known by travellingcircus

Reverse age AU - Set whenever

Sith Obi-Wan (wild and borderline feral), Jedi Master Anakin (always toeing the line of being a darksider but never falling)

Really I just want sith Obi-Wan to call jedi Anakin daddy (no age play). A plot would be nice, but I am far too happy with nothing but smut.

DW: Daddy kink, possessiveness, obsession, top Anakin, bottom Obi-Wan, they're disgustingly cute about each other but not in a healthy way

DNW: piss, scat, vomit, age play, omegaverse, unhappy ending, major character death

• Rage, rage against the dying of the light by Golden_Daffodils

Palpatine miscalculates. Killing Obi-Wan Kenobi is the reason Anakin falls, but he did not expect the boy to rebel and try to kill him in return when Anakin learns who he is and his role in Obi-Wan's death.

Would love a angst filled fic, with Anakin falling because Obi-Wan is dead, as Palpatine thought he would, and that biting Palpatine in the ass lol

Also it's up to you if Obi-Wan is really dead or not. I just want to make clear that the most important person for Anakin will always be Obi-Wan.

If nsfw, bottom Anakin/top Obi-Wan and lots of tender/passionate sex reunion.

No rape/non con, hardcore kinks, Anakin kneeling to Palpatine, Anakin killing other Jedi (I don't want him to be the instigator but he can kill to defend himself should you wish to go on that route), anidala, Obianidala, QuiObi.

• Bound By You by BlueAreTheStars

Reverse Age AU - Takes place in GFFA

Peace in the galaxy. A shaky treaty resulting in a tri-annual competition to see who reigns for a short period of time: the Empire or the Republic. It is not built to last.

Anakin Skywalker, older but no wiser from his Clone Wars escapades, is of course the Jedi's chosen champion, as much as he does not wish to be. There is no match for his power, his skills, anywhere in the galaxy now that peace has been declared but when a lithe young man steps into the arena, with gold eyes and an obvious hard-on for him, maybe Anakin has finally met one.

• mine, always by DPRen

Set in Rots. Canon divergence. Obi-Wan kills Palpatine in a fit of jealous rage at seeing Anakin kneel to be Palps apprentice. And now Anakin has to try and get his master back from the dark side while fighting his own internal battle. No unhappy endings ( happy sith murder husbands pretty please )

[sailor-hufflepuff]

Posting the full text of my Sith/Dark Side meta/headcanon.

**********

There are two sides to the Force.

This is true.

There is only one Force.

This is also true.

Those sides are the Light side and the Dark side.

This is the lie.

***********

It does not know when it began. It does not know where it began. It only knows that it is not from Here.

*******

The two sides of the Force are the Living (living, dying, growing, chaotic), and the Unifying, or Cosmic (peaceful, sterile, ordered, stagnant, beautiful).

Both are needed. Life requires order: molecules in their proper places, planets in their orbits, warmth from a star and water to drink and atmosphere to breathe. Life also requires change to grow, to evolve, to bring diversity and beauty, to become more than it was.

Neither is good. Neither is evil.

Neither is powerful. Neither is weak.

Neither is Dark.

*******

It slithers through some crack in the walls of reality, falls from some higher dimension, rises is up from some hellish universe.

It is Other.

It is Strange.

It wants to go Home.

*********

Dark is nothing. Dark is absence. The Darkside does not want war, or power, life, no matter what It tells Its victims.

It promises and promises, but only serves Itself.

It flings Itself against the edges of reality.

*********

This is a physical dimension, full of tactile beings and elementary laws. It must take on a physical form if it wishes to create the changes necessary to create a doorway.

But making one proves beyond Its capabilities, so it steals the forms of others.

Microscopic algae at first. Plants. Animals.

Then It discovers sentient life that can move and decide. This, It knows, is better, is superior. It spends a few eons jumping from host to host, reveling in all the pleasures of pains of physicality.

One day, the host is Different. The host is More. The host is connected to the universe in a way that none of Its previous hosts had been.

It discovers Force Users.

***********

The walls of reality are too strong, the laws of physics too rigid for it to create the hole it wants to.

Life too stubborn.

It must grow stronger.

It must find stronger hosts.

*******

Not all hosts can access the Force, It finds. And those that can take time to develop the abilities, like training new muscles. Easier, then, to posses a body already sufficiently strong.

It takes trial and error (and the rise and fall of a few civilizations), but eventually It settles on a system that most suits It.

One Master. The host.

One Apprentice. The next host, for when the current one brings to fail with age and decay, in that frustrating way all life-forms seem to do.

It finds a potential host and trains Its future body up, makes the body strong, promises him or her or them power and immortality. And then, when they chomp at the rules and limitations, they rise up and kill their Master, proving their body the stronger one, the faster, the better.

That is when It makes the jump, from decrepit corpse to Its new host, young and strong, swiftly smothering the existing mind/soul/being that had dwelled there before, absorbing its memories and personality, making them a part of Itself.

Immortality. Power.

From a certain point of view.

********

There are those that worship It, unaware of Its goal to destroy their very reality.

There are those that oppose it, an Order united in the cause of eradicating Its taint from existence.

It takes particular pleasure in using those as hosts.

*********

The Sith, you see, is not an order. Not a long line of beings passing on knowledge and teaching to an apprentice they know will someday kill them. No. The Sith is a single entity, a being, a life, perhaps.

A parasite, jumping from host to host over long millennia in pursuit of its goals.

Palpatine is Plageus is Zannah is Bane.

Every murder, every atrocity, every genocide blamed on that line, in truth committed by one. Single. Creature.

*********

The Dark is not death.

It is not the predator, which kills but does not hate, to feed itself.

It is not decay, which breaks down the dead into the building blocks of new life.

It is hatred. It is destruction. It is the unmaking of reality, of splitting atoms into singular molecules that will never again compose anything.

There is no death, there is the Force, each scrap of energy moving from being to being in a cycle.

This is Chaos. This is Dark.

This is Sith

******

The universe tries to fight the parasite, more and more Force users being born, being trained as Jedi, like white blood cells being sent after a virus.

It only laughs, and hides, and plots.

A child is born strong, so strong units ability to use the Force.

This, It-who-is-Sith-who-is-Palpatine, will be Its next host, finally one strong enough to destroy reality completely and free It from this prison of physicality.

It will watch him with Great Interest.

******

(The Force is life, the Force is death, the Force is predator and prey and a parasite all on its own.

The Force lays a trap.)

********

In its excitement, the Sith overplays Its hand, and the new vessel is damaged beyond use; limbs gone, skin melted, lungs burned. A mechanical monster fit only to use as a tool. A robot guard dog.

Sith is patient, though. It idly brings up a few other apprentices (failsafes), though none of them prove useful. It spends Its time waiting, sowing chaos, burning worlds, setting up systems that will collapse, wiping out entire races, building weapons more terrible than any sentient creature could even dream of.

It is so close, so tantalizingly close to the destruction of all reality when word comes.

A Child.

A Son.

A new host, to replace this body that has become broken and useless as it spends decades channeling Darkness.

Young and healthy and so strong, eyes like his father, words like his mother, It covets, It wants, It needs.

“Strike me down!” It cajoles, kill me, it does not say, so that I may kill you in turn, and take possession of the body you leave behind.

It is so close to Its goal, It can feel it.

******

The Force is Life. The Force is Death. The Force is growth and change and birth and decay.

But most of all.

The Force is Love.

******

It is not the boy that kills it.

It is the Failure.

And when It tries to make the leap anyways, to take that broken and mechanical body as better than nothing…

It can’t get a grip.

For this was the trap:

Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One, conceived of the midicloreans, Son of the Suns cannot be taken.

He can be influenced.

He can be tempted.

He can be corrupted.

But he cannot be possessed.

*******

Starved of Its host, it slips away into the darkness.

A father dies in his son’s arms.

A new Order is born.

Balance is restored.

****************************

[antianakin]

Some sad thoughts on Luminara in the Darksider Ahsoka AU where she's PERFECTLY aware of who Darth Vader is and the complete and utter betrayal she feels in the wake of this because she genuinely really LIKED Anakin, liked his unorthodox methods, liked his biting humor, liked his spontaneity. She might've been one of the people who really helped raise him, who was around him when he was really young a lot, gave him tutoring in classes he struggled with if Obi-Wan was either unavailable or just not quite as good as explaining it as Luminara was.

She's not going to fight him, she has no desire to fight anymore if she can avoid it, no desire for more bloodshed. And she has to work through this for the sake of her Padawans, for Barriss and Trilla and Reva who are all so hurt and betrayed and are looking to HER for guidance. She can't give in to that anger she feels, the guilt for having not seen the truth of his unorthodox methods and his arrogance and his violent protectiveness. She can't just let it consume her the way it consumed him.

But a deep part of her can't help but root for anyone who tries to take him down, can't help the little lurch of disappointment when they inevitably get the news of failure and Anakin's continued existence.

And then of course Ahsoka shows back up, over a decade later, and Luminara remembers her, too. Remembers the brave loyal feisty Padawan who taught her a lesson herself, who protected Barriss with her resourcefulness. She remembers telling Ahsoka that Anakin would be PROUD of her. She remembers laughing a little with some of their friends that Obi-Wan had somehow managed to have two Padawans giving him all the same gray hairs he'd given Qui-Gon, as was his due. She remembers Barriss and Ahsoka keeping in contact as the war went on, clinging to a little bit of connection with someone who understood.

But she also remembers Barriss's increasing distress when those calls ended, worried about her friend seeming bitter and frustrated in ways Barriss had no way to soothe. She remembers the bombing, the deaths of clones and civilians, and how Anakin had let his student run from it all in the end. She remembers Obi-Wan's grief, Barriss's shock, and Anakin's anger.

She knows Barriss says that Ahsoka is different, now, not quite so angry, ready to learn again, ready to HELP again. She's heard Barriss say that Ahsoka had been upset that the Jedi were being led so far away from their teachings and that some part of her had hoped her actions might somehow save the Jedi. She's listened to Barriss say that Ahsoka grieved the Jedi when Order 66 happened, same as the rest of them.

But it's so so hard for Luminara to look at Ahsoka and not see the same mistakes she made with Anakin. She has a hard time trusting that Ahsoka, for all that she's claiming to be on their side now, isn't secretly working with her Master. She sees how similar they are, how similar they always were, and it frightens her. She helped raise Anakin, and she'd liked him for all of the traits that caused him to kill her children and desecrate her home. She'd liked Ahsoka, but hadn't been as close to her as she had been to Anakin, and she doesn't want to get close to Ahsoka NOW only for it to end up yet another trick.

And in the end, it isn't Barriss who changed Luminara's mind and helps her let go of her anger. It's Trilla. Trilla who'd held so much anger over her own Master's perceived betrayal, who had been so distrustful of Luminara in the beginning, who had worked SO HARD to learn how to trust people again and center herself through learning how to heal rather than kill. Luminara can't control whether Ahsoka chooses to betray them or not, all she can control are her own actions. But Ahsoka has been lost and scared for SO LONG now, and Luminara's got experience helping a lost, scared Padawan come back from the Dark.

Luminara will never forget what Anakin Skywalker did to her people, she'll never forget the lessons his betrayal taught her about looking deeper at someone she loves to ensure she does not love blindly. But it does her no good to continue to be angry. If she gets the chance to kill him, she'll take it, to ensure no one else ever has to endure the pain she has gone through. She won't really mourn him if someone else ends up being the one to kill him, she's mourned the loss of the person she thought she'd known for over a decade now already, his passing into the Force just makes that death official. But she is a Jedi, more than Anakin Skywalker ever was apparently, and she does not intend to let his choices control her own.

[sweetcloverheart]

Clover Rants Miraculously: Death Penalty

Look, I need people to understand that my issue with Gabriel dying isn’t simply just that it lets him avoid all consequence to his actions, but that it’s not a good consequence in general in the face of all the crimes he’s committed.

From season 1 to now, Gabriel has emotionally manipulated children for his own ends, arranged for former friends to be harassed or embarrassed so he can use them, has abused and isolated his own son, had a young girl re-orphaned by having her guardian murdered, put the entire world in jeopardy with nukes, had the city (families, children, his own son) placed in peril as the monsters he created destroyed everything in their path, taken advantage of people when they’re at their lowest and most vulnerable, led to his closest ally near killing herself with the same “illness” that took his wife, gave a manipulative young girl free access to his son despite the boy’s clear discomfort and threw her away when she was no longer of use, threatened his nephew and mistreated his sister-in-law, teamed up with a cult and arranged to use his own child as a bargaining chip, abused the magical creatures under his control, and ruined the lives of his son and said son’s girlfriend as they basically sacrificed their childhoods to fight him, and who knows who else that suffered from his rise as Hakwmoth/Monarch - and the only “punishment” he gets is peacefully dying of the magic-induced wound that was already killing him anyways while he gets everything he was mistreating his son and tormenting the city for.

“But he dies! He won’t get to enjoy the result of his wish!”

Doesn’t matter, he still won and got what he wanted in the end, and with no cost to himself or his legacy. He got to peace out knowing his son’s going to live the rest of his life thinking his father was a hero instead of the monster he let his grief twist him into and that the truth of his crimes will never see the light of day thanks forcing the young girl he tricked into thinking he was actually turning over a new leaf into keeping her mouth shut for “his son’s sake”. That sounds strangely like “enjoyment” to me. How do you look at the show practically bragging about how Gabriel all but defying his wife’s final wishes and making a mockery of Marinette wanting to help him find a better/safer way to save her is “good actually” with turning Paris into a “Utopia” and having him being thanked for it with a statue and think he’s in any way being “punished”.

(I would compare this to some those Superman continuities Lex Luthor gets heralded as a hero and avoids consequences thanks to his status as a billionaire, but at least in those, Lex doing that is portrayed as wrong/a tragedy (unless he’s actually on the heroes side in those runs, and even then he still faces some pushback for his past actions)).

“So what punishment would be fitting for you then?”

One where he has to face what he’s done; I wanted Gabriel to have to confront his son (and wife maybe) with how low he sunk, I wanted Gabriel to be faced with the lives he ruined in pursuit of his selfishness, I wanted Gabriel to realize he sacrificed so much for nothing, and most of all - I wanted Gabriel to not get what he wanted, especially not as a result of spitting in the face of Marinette’s mercy. Whether or not he lived at the end, I at least wanted to see him not be rewarded for all the damage he’s done and the lives he ruined, because rewarding your villain (especially one that is as onscreen abusive as Gabriel) for their crimes is just...no. That’d be like if the original starwars trilogy had Han defeat Vader and then be told to lie to Luke and Leia about what a kind and good soul he always was before he uses the darkside of the force to undo the making of the empire and bring Padme back.

There are ways to pull the “Villain dies/sacrificed himself for his goal”, and "Recreation” was not it. Frankly, I would have preferred the doing what was done in HZD at the end of the “Promontory” mission with the brain and fist choices (start at 1:58)

[blood-darkened-moon]

Alexia’s feelings for Alfred

I hate so much how they’ve butchered Alfred and Alexia’s relationship in Darkside Chronicles. The unconditional love these two shared was the best part of the game. Seriously, if you think Alexia secretly hated Alfred, you haven’t played CV. In the infamous video where they torture a dragonfly and feed the ants with it, you can already see that there is some mutual affection between them. It isn’t one-sided. And if this isn’t enough to convince you, Alexia’s reaction to Alfred’s death makes it obvious.

For context, in DC, Alfred survives moderately injured in his final confrontation with Claire and Steve. He wakes Alexia up, and then she kills Alfred because she is bored of him. He was a toy for her, and now he is no longer useful or entertaining. DC-Alexia is childish, megalomaniac, and purely evil. That’s it.

In CV, Alfred barely survives his final confrontation with Claire and Steve. He is heavily injured and loses a lot of blood, but he still makes it to the room Alexia is in, and wakes her up shortly before his death. Witnessing her brother die makes her go fully berserk. Alexia sends her tentacles after Claire and Steve, who have already brought some distance between themselves and the Antarctica Base. In the meantime, Alexia holds Alfred’s dead body in her arms and gently strokes his hair. He is already gone no need to pretend anything. Also, she sits there fully naked on the metal floor, her skin probably still wet from the liquid in the cryostasis tank. It must be freezing cold. Alexia doesn’t care about herself at this point. Everything that counts at this very moment is her brother. Later on, you can see her again. She is still sitting there, but now she is dressed up. I assume this is after she injected Steve with the virus. Let me get this straight. She was with Alfred for who knows how long, took a little break to take care of Steve and Claire, then returned to cradle his corpse in her arms and sing a lullaby for him while the warmth was leaving his body. How can you think she didn’t love him?

Afterward, Alexia places Alfred’s corpse in the cryogenic freezer, probably to slow down or stop the decomposition. She does not accept his death, isn’t ready to say farewell forever. Likely, she wants to use the t-Veronica virus to revive him, if possible, without severe mutations or waiting 15 years. That’s also the reason why she didn’t kill Steve and Claire immediately out of revenge. She needs someone to test it, but everyone else in the base is dead. Steve is male as well. Therefore, he probably will deliver better results, so she uses him first. Claire stays glued to the stairs, otherwise unharmed, as a backup.

The only time Alexia said anything remotely negative about Alfred is when she calls him an “inept but loyal soldier ant” in one of the files, but this is situational. She wrote the text shortly before she went to her cryogenic sleep. At this time, Alfred was a more or less average 12-year-old kid and very clingy too. Her brother was simply way too young for the important and difficult task that lay ahead of him. However, she couldn’t trust anyone else with it. He has to keep her safe for 15 years. Having doubts that Alfred has the strength to do this is a legitimate concern. And yes, in another document, she wrote: ”The ecosystem of the ants seems truly ideal to me. There is one queen ant in each anthill, and the soldier and worker ants are the queen's slaves. They dedicate their lives to the queen. The death of the queen ant means the doom of the entire anthill. However, the soldier and worker ants can be easily replaced as long as the queen ant is alive. This is exactly the same relationship between myself and other ignorant masses.” Things like this are easy to say when you’ve never lost anyone who was dear to you. She may have thought so at the time of writing this, but her reaction to Alfred’s death proves that she was mistaken. He is the only one she ever cared for. Billions of slaves cannot replace her twin brother, no one can.

Alexia is usually a very rational and calculating person, as you can see in the game. Despite her hatred for Claire and Steve, she hasn’t given in to the heat of the moment and killed them. Neither did she allow herself to cry once. Succumbing to sadness won’t help. Crying has never saved anyone. The enemies surrounding her won’t allow any signs of weakness either. She must stay strong and think rationally while the situation spirals increasingly out of her control. But you can see her emotions slip through occasionally. About to lose her brother forever, she goes through a emotional rollercoaster. Alexia isn’t as cold as you would expect after everything you’ve learned about her. There is hatred toward Claire and Steve, who did this to Alfred. She tosses the snowmobile around in a rage, about to obliterate them. There is sadness when her brother’s lifeless body lies in her arms and the unwillingness to accept his fate. When Steve is about to kill Claire, Alexia’s tentacles hold her in place. She wants him to suffer, wants to afflict the same pain on him she is feeling right now. And before the final battle with Chris, Alexia starts one last attempt to make Claire pay for want she did. Also, Alexia giggles like a maniac in every dialogue. But imagine her situation: you wake up after 15 years just to see your brother dying, the base is partially destroyed, you have no idea what is going on, everyone is dead, zombies and BOWs everywhere, and you’re attacked by multiple enemies for unknown reasons. It wasn’t planned like this. She wanted a kingdom, not this post-apocalyptic nightmare. There is nothing unusual about people reacting with laughter as a response to a terrifying, traumatic, or surprising experiences. It's too much to bear for her. Her laughter is likely an acute stress reaction, not a sign of madness.

Let’s skip to the end of the game. After Chris activates the self-destruct system, Alexia rushes toward the control room. The whole place is about to explode. Why doesn’t she escape? Apparently, she only needs the t-Veronica virus for her world domination plans to succeed, and she has it in her blood. Losing her ants and the equipment would slow her down, not stop her. Alexia is patient, she waited 15 years and can wait a little longer.

Is she bent on revenge? Alexia has already proven that she can control her emotions, no need to take any risks. Attacking directly with less than 5 minutes left doesn’t seem to be a logical decision. If she wants to kill Chris and Claire, nothing is easier than this. She can destroy the jet, their only way to get away from Antarctica. They can still get out of the base, but with temperatures below 0 °C, a snowstorm raging, no vehicle, and without appropriate clothes, this equals a death sentence.

And why does she go after Chris, not Claire? Claire is responsible for Alfred’s death. She should be the target. However, after this one attempted attack, Alexia lets her escape. Chris defeating her earlier in a fight was inconvenient, but she can regenerate, no problem. And Chris wasn’t even the one who started it. How can this be worse than killing her brother? Except for this, Chris hasn’t even done anything to her. Girl, just leave.

Also, have you ever noticed how passive Alexia is and that she has surprisingly little dialogue? The only time she actually engages in a fight is after Wesker enforces it. Otherwise, she says only a couple of sentences (usually threatens Chris), giggles manically, and disappears again. And when she’s confronting Chris and Claire for the last time, she doesn’t even say a single word, no elaborated villain monologue, no talk about how superior she is, how she wants to reform the world and turn all humans into her slaves, nothing. She’s completely silent.

At this point, Alexia has already made up her mind. This is one final desperate attempt to stop the self-destruct system and save Alfred or die trying. She doesn’t want revenge right now, nor does she want to escape. World domination is suddenly not important anymore. The only thing she truly wants is to have her brother back. She must have realized how stupid her plan was, a childish delusion. And Alfred had to pay the price for her foolishness. All her powers weren’t worth it. She isn’t a queen ant, and Alfred wasn’t a soldier ant. She cannot live alone without him. Her powers, her intellect, nothing matters anymore if she can’t save him. She must stop the self-destruct system, otherwise, Alfred will be lost. To have a chance, Alexia needs a lab, the cryogenic freezer, and she can’t drag Alfred’s body around in the frozen tundra for hours.

Alexia has tried to threaten Chris, tried to scare him away with Alexander’s remains, and hoped he would leave her alone after he got what he wanted (Claire). It didn’t work. Now she says nothing because there is nothing left to say. Every word would be a waste of time. Chris and Claire are her enemies. She can’t expect mercy from them, especially not after everything that happened. Alexia attacks Chris because he stands in her way and won’t just go. Claire can wait. Alexia has decided that she doesn’t want to live in a world without her brother. The past hours gave her a glimpse of how empty her life would be. It ends here either she can save him now, or she joins him in death.

DC didn’t do her character justice. Alexia was misguided. She was never the plainly evil monster they tried to make of her. Deep down under her cold and calculating façade, she had a very caring side. During her last hours, Alexia must have been full of pain, guilt, despair, sorrow, fear, and regret. Her brother meant the world to her. Not only Alfred was ready to die for her, Alexia was ready to do the same for him.

[darkdemeter]

WATCH IN SILENCE

✘DARKSIDERS FILED CLIPPINGS | Death x Female Watcher!Reader ────────────────────────

To the eldest as your charge, Death remained a permanently perplexing sort. This, from the wit of his banter and blunted sass, often leaves you fixated on the nature of his estranged and cold personality, however much you see the confliction of his inner turmoil within. But that is a personal affair you dare not intrude upon.

Most curious for a Watcher, Death often scowls in the closeted nest of his deepest thoughts. More so than not, Watchers tend to make a grand show of their power over the Horsemens’ leash, whichever sibling they hold to, it is but a taming of a trophy. A display, that in comparison to the feared Horsemen, the Watchers are the ones in power.

Darkened, boastful entities. Infectious, shadowy wisps that are bound and loyal to the Charred Council. Yet compared to the likes of your other wrist-shackled counterparts, you remain out of the way of his carnage-paved path. You don’t conduct yourself as a mouthpiece of sarcasm and venomous snark. Death already covers that trait and far more fittingly if you’re forced to confess. But no, you allow him his way without the threat of restraint, and maybe because he is the eldest of his siblings, he is granted that right.

But for you… well, the reason is not like that at all. At least, not entirely. You revere his strength and might, but in fact, you are also rather ‘young’. By this, you have very little experience amassed when chosen to govern a Horsemen; moreso that this is your first venture in doing so. You could also say you’re an admirer of Death. How precise he is in the midst of his outward battles, the radiance of his exuded power, it’s of little use to convince yourself otherwise by accompanying him as his so-called Watcher that you feel safe in his company.

And that is why you remain to that of a voiceless shadow. Quite literally. Upon first bindings to the one known as Kin-slayer, he has not so much as heard you utter a single word. And he knows not if he should be grateful or reserved. A Watcher that is silent?

He tries to not let it overcome his mind. But it's hard when he takes time of momentary rest such as this, to contemplate the path he treads and his next course of action, and then to lift his burning amber eyes to find you. Either staring at him or providing a level of cared attendance to Dust, adoring the crow’s purring chirps as his dark, crisp feathers quiver and fluff out.

When involving the former, all he can do is glare in return but that does little to deter you, gaze almost dream-like, as if you marvel at the sight of him in your muted presence. Though you may harbour a surmised amount of fear for Death, the dangers of other creatures scare you, and that fear only drives you closer to his side. Nights like this there crawls something sinister in the dark. It lingers there like a beast on the prowl. The wispy form of your blackened silhouette dances in hunched uncertainty, perhaps cowardly to the likes of his perspective, before a simple clutter of rubble ignites the last of your incited panic and you huddle to his side. Who better to protect you than Death? His scythes ring the song of victory without so much as a breath, the task of delivering those unto their demise one he is born and created to do.

Has been for many aeons. But he is still and undisturbed by the shifting of pebbles. He scowls, that much you can tell by the thinning of his amber eyes that burn with a thousand blazes of molten and fire.

“It’s nothing, little Watcher.” His voice is strung by the hoarseness of his remark, reprimanding you and your swiftness to scare easily. How often he’s marked you with such belittlement but you find yourself yearning for it. You interpret it as his term of endearment beneath that coarse exterior of his. Head fluttering in the direction of any miniscule note that sounds in the distance around you, you finally come from your hiding place, tucked close to his ribcage with a curious tilt of your head. Glancing from him to where you’d heard the noise, the trail of black at the end of your torso dances over his lap, stirring him with a chill that leaves a disgruntled noise to rise from his chest.

As ever the curious thing you were and that he’d come to know, your arms raise to bend at the elbows, nervously your tinged fingers ring together within your silent inquiry, Death takes an unseemly approach this time around; that of thoughtful gentleness.

“Nothing will come and harm you.”

This answer calms you. He tells by the fall of your shoulders that ease at his promise, and the way your head turns to view him with your eyes, glowing brightly as if you share with him a kind, thankful smile.

“So long as you don’t draw attention,” he quickly snips and that crinkle of your eyes wears away, that once illuminated smile within your gaze dims.

He’s not entirely sure if that was a necessity to add. By what logic would you draw attention to them? Half the time, your presence is invisible to the masked Horseman. Only made known in times where you guide him through his journey, a suggestive wave or push of his body to indicate a point of interest that may be of some use in his quest.

But other than quick outings to help him, watch over him, you don’t exactly serenade him with a chorus of banter he can combat with his own, and thus, enemies don’t take notice of your being there until you show yourself.

But nevertheless, he watches you hover towards him before coming to curl against him. Though he means to protest and brush you aside, you make yourself comfortable at his side and he’s forced to concede that this is where you plan to stay until you both are on the move again.

You sigh, the sound quiet and echoes faintly in the chamber of your enclosed, unmade mouth. Yet your jaw grows down in length as if to copy the motion to yawn and you rest your head against his shoulder.

“You know, you’re a very odd sort of Watcher,” he says to you, yet your eyes dwindle, slowly closing as you remain untainted by his words. They are not new to you. He’s commented a few times about your oddities. And you’re inclined to agree with a sluggish nod.

Still, he watches you, eyes cast upon you with a glare meant to intimidate you. But seeing the serenity of your peace when pressed to him, it comes to soften his gaze. Unexpectedly, something in his heart… beats. Blooms. A strange force threatens to dominate.

The blackened outline of your form fits to the line of his body, the fading tail at the end of your torso rests over in his lap.

Once certain that you’ve somehow drifted into some realm of slumber, his hand comes to rest along the ridge of your spine, he feels the pulse of energy within your shadowed, ethereal body.

The framing curtain of blackness that shrouds your head moves timidly like hair taken softly to the breeze. Much like a human, it is another quality that sets you far apart from the other watchers to relish in their power below the Charred Council’s will.

What Death finds himself now evermore torn and confused by, is the utterance of one word as you drift off into the sleeping abyss.

The quietness disturbed by a tune harmonic - angelic - that it fits not the occupation you find yourself in servitude under.

It is a word he often claims is in the interest of the balance only. That nothing else restrains him to such an esteemed and honourable title.

“Protector…”

[marvelstars]

Anakin´s fall

I have been thinking how, for Anakin, being separated from his mother was the beggining of his fall to the darkside, while of course slavery played a big part of it because this suffering marked Anakin from a young age and forced him to lose part of his innocense, he still had his Mom and his friends on Tatooine, those two reasons made up a little bit for the fact he was a slave, he may have been one but he was still a person and his name was Anakin.

But between the separation from his mother, leaving her a slave and the separation from his friends while being send to a completely different culture and what it meant to him living in a context in which nobody remembered their birth family or their mother, Anakin was worried about his mother´s well being, he missed her but he could not talk to anyone about this, not even his master, because it could be taken to mean he was attached and so, not a good Jedi tm but also because even if they were sympathetic to his situation, they could not truly understand how much this was affecting him, this was one of the reasons why he was not going to be accepted at first by the Jedi Council or Yoda but even when Yoda changed his oppinion at Obi-Wan´s insistence, there wasn´t really an effort to accomodate Anakin´s need to know his mother was safe and free from slavery.

This also generated guilt, because Anakin felt like he abandoned his mother to a terrible fate without any way to communicate with her or try to help her in her situation.

Another big factor of his isolation inside the Jedi Order was Obi-Wan obedience to the council, Anakin was painfully aware he was only accepted because Obi-Wan promised the Council to train him as Qui-Gon´s last wish but also because he was the "chosen one" even if nobody knew what that meant and with the resurgence of the sith, someone who could be useful for his force habilities, so from the beggining his stay in the Jedi Order is conditional to:

1.- Him being perceived as a "good jedi"

2.- Someone "useful"

Any moment he showed signs of not being a "Good Jedi tm" be it because he missed his mother or because he got angry when other padawans called him a slave, he could not even defend himself because he is supposed to be in the "wrong", his master always takes the council side when he is "wrong" he had not confidants or people who at least tried to see his pov because for the Jedi, especially the Jedi Council, there has always been something wrong with Anakin and it´s Anakin the one who has to make adecuations to become a "good jedi tm", he was bassically the odd one out in his community with nobody to trust his feelings to inside the Jedi Order.

So of course, it wasn´t surprising Anakin accepted Palpatine´s offer to be his "confidant, father figure, fun uncle" because at least with him he could talk about his feelings, about his Mom, about Tatooine as he did with his mother and friends back home and this would have been ok if Palpatine have been someone like Bail or Padme someone interested in his well being or at least turstworthy who cared about him for himself, too bad for Anakin it was Sidious, master of the Sith order, who saw him as something that belonged to him the one who listened to him all those lonely years living in the Jedi Order.

Anakin´s fall to the darkside a tragedy in three acts and his mother´s separation and death were a big component of it.

This is why I believe while Anakin had great habilities, a big heart and already big cualities to become a great Jedi, his particular circunstances didn´t allow him to develop in a healthy way in the Jedi Order the way it was estructured in his time, in fact it had the opposite effect, for Anakin living in the Jedi Order meant becoming bitter, lonely, afraid of losing people dear to him, instead of being the sociable, happy, optimistic and active child we meet in TPM and it would have made him a world of good to be raised with his mother or with an adopted family while knowing his mother was safe, away from Palpatine´s influence and with people who understood him for who he was, people he could trust with all his being, this was also why he married Padme and why FAMILY has always been central to Anakin´s character, it´s such a strong force inside him that he tried to make his own despite being a Jedi.