welcome-to-the-cesspool
Anything and Everything.
11 posts
See above. This place is all my hyperfixations in a trenchcoat.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 8 days ago
Text
Random, unrefined fic piece yoinked without any context. Enjoy, and please don't hate me. _________________________________________________________
“You…!” Conquest gripped Acrimony, before taking the maul in both hands and swinging it up behind his head. “You are the one I should  K I L L !” 
The words barely left his mouth before he launched himself at the figure. The hammer fell to strike, and the blow rang true. An immense metallic bang echoed out, and a blinding flash flared from the site of impact.
The light faded in a few seconds, and it revealed Acrimony, still trembling with excess force, held back by the figure with a single raised finger.
“Very well.” The figure passively spoke, but raised a single eyebrow. “Another trial, then.”
There was a flash and the sound of thunder, and Conquest was launched back with a gentle press. Acrimony was miraculously unmarred, but the energy transferred traveled down its grip like a conductive lighting rod. 
Cracks rippled down Conquest’s armor; up his arm, down his breastplate, shattering every bone and dislocating his right shoulder as the force dissipated through his body, snapping tendons and muscles, and causing severe bruising and internal bleeding throughout. 
Conquest landed on his back, skidding across the ground, before rolling back to his feet. His posture was hunched and breathing ragged; several ribs were broken, and one of his lungs was ruptured.
He leaned on Acrimony, head down, like a cane, and hauled himself upright, ruined armor plates and broken bones audibly grinding together with every minute movement. 
…It hurt.
He could feel it.
In surprise, he blinked away the reflex tears he just noticed clouding his vision. He looked up at the figure in momentary bewilderment. For a moment, he almost felt thankful for this gift. 
Almost.
He grit his teeth like a rabid dog, bearing them in anger. Any thanks he could have felt was overshadowed by an overwhelming anger, because he knew that this being was the looking glass of the Lord who cursed him with his power. Who was responsible for not just his suffering, but all that the Endwar reached.
“You knew I would hate this.” Conquest growled, straightening up. “You had to.”
“Child, you are blessed with your gifts.”
Conquest gave a hollow laugh. “Gift? You call the reality of my life a gift?!” 
The figure politely nodded, and, damn him, with a smile; proud and full. “Indeed. The Lord is quite giving to His faithful and chosen.”
A gunshot rang out, and a large round froze by the cheek of the figure. He hummed and turned his head towards the source of the shot, and saw Strife aiming Mercy and raising Redemption.
“You bastard,” Strife said, voice loud and tone condemning. “You call this giving?! Look around!” He waved his arms about, gesturing to the burned and ruined, post-apocalyptic landscape of Earth. Smoke columns from over the red horizon still rose into the blackened, starless sky. Weapons, angelic and demonic, lay broken across the cracked ashen ground. “How many people across Creation died, just as a part of some gauntlet?!”
“It was regrettable, but necessary-”
A bolt of burning lighting lanced the air, hitting the figure instantly, but just as quickly dissolved into harmless static. The figure turned again, and an overhead blow from Scorn’s ax form was frozen in place with a simple hand wave.
“Children ple-”
Choaseater smashed hard into the back of the figure, and, the edge of the blade, while failing to wound, had for the first time, staggered the figure. That opening was enough for Fury to break free from stasis and bring Scorn down.
The figure weaved aside the ax, but one of the candle stands was squarely in the strike’s path. The heavy blade smashed down, and the candle stand shattered, sending particles of the stuff of creation lashing out. Tiny portals to other dimensions cracked open and snapped shut as the sparks fizzled out.
The ensuing explosion threw the two Horsemen back. They landed on their feet, grinding deep gashes into the rock, before recovering their balance. Scorn reverted back into its barbed whip, and Fury snapped it taut with a snarl, her long hair ablaze, glaring at Him.
Behind Him, War’s skin turned to obsidian-black rock, and his veins filled with fire. Chaoseater weeped bloody rage from the faces along its length. His blue eyes turned orange from an internal fire, and his face contorted in his legendary rage.
The figure alternated between looking at the two, and the Horsemen circled Him like hunting predators. A hint of concern flickered in His eyes, but there was also a form of vague disappointment.
“You had no right,” War said, voice dangerously even, “To break and reset the Balance as you did.” “He is the Most High and Mighty. All rules fall under His.”
“The Council thought the same thing, so let’s put that to the test!” Fury barked with rage, and she and War charged; the earth quaking with their sundering advance. 
On fleet foot, the Horsemen crossed the rocky distance in the blink of an eye. Fury threw the arc of Scorn’s whip out in a downward stroke, and War took Chaoseater up two-handed before hacking down on the figure’s neck. 
The figure moved to the right of Scorn, narrowly avoiding getting grazed by the barbed tips of the lash. He elegantly spun, and His hands came together in a strident crash of sound, catching Chaoseater between them.
For a brief moment, the two titans struggled against each other, eyes locked, muscles bunching. One the face of seething betrayal and rage, and the other a frozen portrait of indifferent, dignified disappointment.
Chaoseater trembled, shifting back and forth. One mistake and the blade would fall. War knew this and tried to press the advantage, pushing down for additional leverage. Unfortunately, his efforts would be for naught, as the figure twisted his arms, his hands tearing at the strange, grisly material of Chaoseater.
There was a sickening crack that broke through the air like the snapping of a spine, and War's weapon shattered across its length, scattering pieces of shrapnel.
War’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but it was short-lived, as the magic once bound within Chaoseater detonated from its bladeless hilt. The Red Rider was forced back a few paces, landed on his back foot, and lunged forward. Unarmed, yes, harmless, no. War swung his oversized gauntlet in a punishing arc.
The blow loudly slammed home, knuckles first into the figure’s face, and this time He was forced back. The first signs of harm showed, as blood trickled from His now off-center nose.
All of this happened in four seconds, and was more than enough time for Fury to withdraw Scorn, swung back, causing the lethal lashes to scrape across the stone ground, flicking up into the air for another lethal blow, faster than the eyes could follow. 
But the figure reacted faster. He flashed into the air, also avoiding another punch from War, and caught the razored tips of the whip before they could reach Him.  The cords burned where they touched skin, pennants of vapor issuing from between His unprotected fingers.
He yanked hard, launching Fury, still gripping Scorn’s handle, into the air. But, thinking fast, Fury dragged the lash up with her as she was catapulted up. She reached the figure within seconds, and she nimbly flipped over to the figure’s back, wrapped the whip into a loop across the figure’s throat, planted her iron heel on the figure’s spine, and pulled.
The momentum from Fury’s ascent went into that pull, and the figure was dragged above her, before Fury viciously swung Scorn down like a flail. The figure would have cratered the ground if he landed- if it weren’t for War’s fist meeting Him first.
With cold and lethal precision, War’s blow snapped the figure’s head back, causing Him to backflip midair, and Fury dived, feet first, square into His abdomen. The two crashed into the ground, Fury standing on the figure like a surfboard, and trapping His neck with one of her heels, forcing His head against the grinding rock.
The force of landing transferred, and the figure was brutally ground face-first across the landscape, gouging a new ravine into the earth. Tremors rumbled as they traveled, and rushing air whipped up a dust storm of freshly powderized stone. War sprinted shortly behind, following into the veiled valley from the ruined plains to continue the fight. 
Meanwhile on the Plains of the Damned, Plague was helping Conquest stand. The Lord of Flies checked over his youngest brother. Conquest was hideously damaged, but it was clear his body was still capable of the astronomical expected from the Horsemen.
Conquest was heedless of his own wounds, and focused on the battle he could see through the dense dust cover. “This is a losing battle.” He notes before coughing.
“Damnation,” Plague rattled a metallic breath through his rebreather. “...I concede.”
Conquest tried to place his full weight on his shattered legs. “Urk-!” he choked in pain and surprise. He took a fortifying breath; it shuttered in his chest. “...In other cases, I would be happy about the pain.” he sighed, hesitantly supporting himself on Plague.
“Time and place.” Plague nodded, putting an arm around Conquest and holding him up. “Regardless-” he started, but was cut off by a massive peal of thunder. The sky suddenly turned dark as pitch as an armada of black storm clouds blotted out the sky. The darkness was periodically illuminated by flashes of yellow-orange lighting.
“...I would say we have much more pressing things to worry about!” Plague quickly finished as the mighty roar of thunder shook even the air, and a volley of lighting, the likes of which the World of Man had only ever seen on the eve of Armageddon, furiously struck in the deep divot that formed from the ongoing battle.
Before the bolts hit, time slowed, and Conquest reached out with his senses, and temporarily disabled the eyes of every human still in the area, and covered them in psychic shielding. It was a small mercy, but mercy nonetheless, and certainly better than being unprotected as the electric tendrils made landfall.
The flash of light could be seen from another planet. If you were on the moon, the glare could render one blind for a few hours. Great sheets of earth lifted from their resting places in the blast, before atomizing in the sheer heat of the electricity around it.
Sight was replaced with light, and everything and everyone was swept away in the flood of scorching energy before getting tossed away like a leaf in the wind. 
The blasts lasted only for a few seconds, and the light faded quickly after, but the effects were both severe and extreme. The air was still thick with electrical static, and it all stinked of fresh ozone.
The humans were mercifully unharmed thanks to Conquest’s psychic barriers. Save for two, the Horsemen were not so lucky.
Conquest lowered his hand, dropping the transparent dome from around him and Plague, before slouching over in tandem with the shield’s fall. Plague still held him up, but was frantically whipping his head around, looking for something.
“Strife!” He cried out, voice barely audible over the whipping of violent wind currents. “Death! Famine! Where are you?!”
Conquest wheezed a breath and raised one of Salvation’s talons. “Death and Famine are there.” He rasped, pointing a scythed finger at a scorched rock formation, the rough shape akin to the wind-beaten shoulder of an ancient mountain. “I’ll find Strife.”
Plague furrowed his brow in worry. “What about you?”
Conquest drew and planted Animosity, tip down, and supported himself on the sword like a cane. He shifted his weight off Plague. “I’ll manage.” He breathed. “Go to them.”
Plague hesitated leaving Conquest to his wounds, but ultimately nodded before releasing his arm and making his way to the mound of burned stone. Conquest watched as he started to dig; heaving larger and larger pieces of rubble aside, before turning to where he sensed Strife was.
1 note · View note
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 16 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
From twitter to tumblr, and permission from the artist: I bring greetings Nuzivj fans.
49 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 1 month ago
Text
Mary Sue, or Not Mary Sue: Famine.
So, I'm going to try this thing were I see how...well, Mary sueish my OC's are. Let me be clear: I'm NOT trying to make OOC's, as I find incredibly unsatisfying to write in a setting I love, nor are any of these self-inserts. With that out of the way, let the descent commence! ~What I Consider Mary Sueish~ 1. One of the last remaining Nephilim.
2. Absent from Eden.
3. Was absent from the Nephilim Crusades.
4. The youngest trueborn Nephilim.
5. Has four arms.
6. Is a she (Fury now has a sister, yay!) 7. Incredibly overpowered abilities (a given, sure, she's a Horseman, but I'm still counting it).
8. Became a Horseman through alternate means.
9. Fought/survived a three-way battle between Heaven, Hell, and the Horsemen.
10. (After some VERY spoiler-heavy stuff) Becomes the Darksiders' version of Galactus: The Wraith Queen, The Immortal Hunger, The Eater of Worlds.
~What I did to balance (...ha) things out~ 1. Was physically weak as paper by Nephilim standards.
2. Her power ate at herself all the time; rendering her bedridden for centuries at a time. 3. Uneasy about the locusts and vultures that were always nearby/in the area around her.
4. ALWAYS HUNGRY.
5. Was terrified of meeting the Horsemen in person, especially big brother Death, as she had nothing but the stories Plague (dontworryhesnext) told her to go off of.
6. Fairly naĂŻve and can be tricked. ...So, is Famine an 'okay' character, or are there things here that need improvement? I know seeking validation like this isn't really viable, but I need a second opinion from people who know what they're doing.
1 note · View note
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Meme game time!
343 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 2 months ago
Text
Horus: Magnus won’t come out of his room.
Leman: Just tell him I said something.
Horus: Like what?
Leman: Anything factually incorrect.
Magnus, appearing moments later: I’m sorry, did you just say that the sun is a fucking planet-
643 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 2 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Blood Angels
631 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 2 months ago
Text
Malcador: Today I realised I'm old.
Valdor: What happened?
Malcador: I fell in the Throne room and instead of laughing, the Emperor came running to see if I was ok.
Valdor:...
Malcador: I saw fear in his eyes.
819 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 2 months ago
Text
War: "What is the reason for this, brother?" Conquest: "Strife wished for an additional animal companion, as he was envious of Death for possesing Dust's company." *Everyone looks at Strife*
Death: Careful now. You'll hurt Mayhem's feelings. Strife: [Incoherant flustered spluttering] Fury: Wait, Conquest, what did you do? Conquest: I obliged on the condition I grant the rest of you your own companion to avoid future conflict reguarding such an impulsive desire. Everyone: ... Conquest: You are allowed to state your disatisfaction after the fact. Fury: [quietly] Strife, if something like this happens again, I will personally strangle you.
6 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 4 months ago
Text
Here’s a thought.
Child makers.
Twins Alya and Valus following Eideard around and holding his hands tightly.
Berrarris shyly hiding behind The Keeper when meeting someone new.
Karn trying to lift a hammer for the first time and falling over.
Little Muria growing her first flower with magic and clapping her hands excitedly.
Ulthane and Thane scrapping all the time until one of the elders comes along to lift them off each other.
Valus being bullied and Alya standing up for him, then she comes home sporting a black eye but a broad smile.
Karn sneaking off to adventure but being caught by Thane who hauls him back to the forge.
Muria making friends with old constructs and collecting herbs that grow between their joints.
Berrarris losing his creators and The Keeper is the only one willing to take him in.
Just… just young makers being kids, man.
76 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 4 months ago
Video
If you have Deathinitive go and find the Goldbringer scythes. Thank me later. Turn sound on.  _
347 notes · View notes
welcome-to-the-cesspool · 4 months ago
Text
My ass has no idea what I'm doing but my brain is holding me at gunpoint to ramble about my OC's reacting to The Four's pet human. Imagine_Darksiders, I both blame and thank you for this.
Plauge: Totally cool with it. Finds it strangely but amusingly ironic that beings as old as the Horsemen could build such a relationship with a Human. The Human is at first wary of Plauge because...reasons, but quickly becomes bros. Plague is unoffically the human's wingman.
Famine: Just happy for her silbings. The Human comes down with a case of t h e f e e l s because Famine is as gaunt as Death, minus all The Reaper's strength. Still, overall, they do be vibing.
Life: Happy for the Horsemen (especally Death) and feels this will be a good way for them to branch out and relate more to "the common folk" of Creation. (That, and the fact Death can come out of his shell around one more person is a massive win in her book)
Conquest: Litterally couldn't care less if he tried...Is what everyone thinks anyway. He took one look at the human, just sorta nodded, and moved on. Strangely, the human noticed they had an Exlir of Longevity in their pocket after the fact, and a note, writen in beautfully smooth font: "Senectus excusatio non est."
P.S: I'm trying to 100% DS2's Nightmare Mode and it's whooping my ass.
3 notes · View notes