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[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

I don’t remember if it was you or another darksiders blogger who headcanon that Death has a fear of dolls, either way, it’s freakin hilarious.

Death would probably avoid my room like the plague cause I have shelf after shelf of Monster High, Rainbow and Shadow High, Barbie, and Bratz dolls.

Possible scenario?

(If I'm being real honest, I can't remember either.)

Have you ever seen a cat eye another strange cat through a window? That's about the vibe that Death gives off when he enters the room. It's not as if he's never heard of regular dolls before, but in his experience dealing with dark magic, dolls were usually stuffed with malevolent spirits that were determined to act on behalf of their vengeful masters. Those ones were terrifying, but these ones? What kind of sick person had a legion of cartoonishly deformed women anxiously on the tips of their toes as if preparing to get a running start at their next order? Psychological warfare to boot. He didn't know you had it in you. He'd be impressed if he wasn't so scared that at least 6 of them were staring right at him.

"They don't bite or anything," you laughed a little nervously at the sudden intensity of the room.

"Don't not can't." He flinched at the initial sound of your voice and threw you an accusing look at what seemed to him to be a purposeful choice of words.

He backed out of the room slowly without taking his eyes off any of them as if one of them would move if given the chance.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Been a real long while since I sent one of these, so what the hell why not?

What sort of hobbies would Death have that he might get caught doing in private? Anything from reading, to various art stuff, etc etc. And what would his reaction to being caught by a Y/N or his siblings be? Just wondering.

I'm a fan of the idea that he makes tea. Not that he actually drinks it, he just enjoys the process of going out to find herbs, drying them, and then brewing them when he needs to clear his head. He's switched to doing this with herbal tea because it's better for Dust. If Y/N or his siblings walk in on him making tea, he'll prepare himself and his guest a cup as well (it's not optional).

Death likes peace and quiet, that's a given, he's also struck me as something of an academic as well. He spends a lot of his time in books, both reading and writing. For reading, he'll read just about anything if he's bored enough, though he's focused mostly on human works since angelic works lack perspective and demon works are rarely written down. He doesn't mind people seeing him do this, usually pointedly ignoring them, though his siblings have figured out that annoying him about his book will usually get him to pay them some attention.

His writings are usually more academic in nature, equal parts memoir, encyclopedia, and philosophy. Unlike his other hobbies, he never allows anyone to see him write, though a gentle enough Y/N could eventually watch him scribble away at a distance. Among the tomes he's written over the years one can find several, harshly honest accounts of the Nephilim-- the attempt at a complete record of their relatively short, militant history-- and a history of his experiments and creations that detail the trial-and-error path he took to master necromancy that he adds to from time to time.

In general, privately he does the things one would expect of an old man who's seen some pretty awful stuff, and he's palpably irritated and viciously sarcastic when he's interrupted.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

"I'm glad you finally grew a spine. If you talk to me like that again, I'll rip it out and beat you to death with it."

— Death, probably

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Horseman Mornings: Death

The Pale Horseman seldom slept. No matter what time of night, you would open your eyes and he'd be staring back at you. When asked why, he always looked confused and said someone had to keep watch.

One morning you awoke with his forehead lightly touching yours and his eyes tightly shut. His hands flexed and relaxed with the subtle air of contained magic. The words he was speaking weren't ones that you understood, but his tone was frustrated at whatever ghosts had come to haunt him in his dreams- of which you imagined he had many.

"Shhh. It's my turn to keep watch, Papa Bear. Get some rest."

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

How They Say “I Missed You”

((Not me coming back to this hellscape of a website after months and wondering if these guys miss people.))

Death: He has to deny that he misses you, which is something he’s very good at. It makes him feel lonely, which makes him unfocused, and unfocused necromancers have a way of ruining everyone’s day. His “I missed you” is when he reaches over to gently brush your leg, to check if you’re still there. If his hand is met with nothing, there’s a flash of panic in his eyes as he searches the room to see where he may have misplaced you this time.

Fury: Her “I missed you” is in the huffy way she cuddles you when you get home. She doesn’t like being left behind. She can do things. It hurts that you felt she couldn’t help you on this trip. On the off chance that you took one of her brothers instead of her, be prepared to not be spoken to for a hefty length of time (she’ll still take those cuddles). She really did miss you, though, just invite her next time so she doesn’t have to worry that you fell face first onto a spike or something equally as human.

Strife: His “I missed you” is explosive. He’s the only one of the Four that checks in on a regular basis and makes sure you know he notices your absence. Humans don’t have much time, so he’s not going to waste it pretending he doesn’t miss looking at your face.

War: “[Y/N] will be back.” He says it often, free from any shadow resembling a doubt. Unlike the others, he haunts your favorite places to feel a little closer to you, because there’s no question that you’ll be back in them soon enough.

Bonus:

Azrael: “Welcome home.” It’s simple but genuine. He doesn’t move your things, but rather just cleans around them and dusts over them: your book is still on the nightstand, your shirt is still on the ground, your side of the bed is still unmade. He cleans them once you’re back, of course.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

First Kiss Short: Death

"Close your eyes." It wasn't said in a particularly harsh tone, but with names like Kinslayer and Reaper, you knew every seemingly innocent demand had the potential to be final. In the pitch black of the darkened bedroom, this one had a particular danger about it.

However, you, like every Nephilim’s ideal love interest, were built with a little less self-preservation than everyone else, and made a show of gleefully closing your eyes and stuffing your hands in your pockets. You did a happy little dance as your skin tingled with fear as his hands threatened to engulf your face.

His thumbs gently brushed over your eyelids, possibly as a romantic gesture but more than likely to make certain they were closed.

“May I?” his breath touched your lips.

You weren’t entirely sure what was about to happen, but you regardless breathed back, “Yes.”

His lips touched yours with the precision and purpose that he embodied, but with a softness he showed only you in your most private of moments. You took the time to study him blindly, from the way his skin moved over his ribs to how his wet hair smelled like the last rain of autumn.

“You’re leaving.” You had known him too long for it to be a question.

“Yes,” he answered anyway.

“Come back.”

Reverently, he kissed both eyelids and then your forehead, “I have before.”

Even after you felt him leave, you stayed as he had left you, eyes dutifully closed, dreading that the next thing you would see wasn’t him. If this was your last memory, you wanted none of it to slip into the void beyond remembering.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

How They Help You Study

Except They Haven't The Faintest Idea What You're Talking About

((Sorry I've been absent lately y'all, I've been up to my eyeballs with college stuff. BUT, I felt the urge to write to relieve stress.))

Death: A true savant at anatomy and mathematics, but he um... isn't as good at biology as you thought he might be. He mostly leans back in his chair, embarrassed as you stumble through your write up on epidemics by yourself. He's stealing those books tonight. You'll find him dead before you find him lacking again.

Fury: Asks a few seemingly silly questions, mostly because she doesn't know enough to ask about the major points of the essay. But it helps. You were going too fast and forgot some very simple things and answering the seemingly silly questions helped you bridge the gaps in your writing.

Strife: You know what? Physics isn't what he's good at, and he's comfortable with that. You know what he is good at, though? Nuzzling. He's an accomplished nuzzler. He's worse than useless as a study companion, but you feel much better afterwards.

War: You're pretty sure he's following you. As you talk him through some of the more complex problems, you begin to figure out where you went wrong. At the end, you give him a satisfied peck on the cheek. He gives a brief nod before making sure you're done talking before asking what an exponent is. You thank him again for being such an amazing listener despite him not understanding a word of it.

~~ BONUS ~~

Azrael: Yeah, don't do it. Sure, he's helpful if you need some help with polishing up written works, but he asks many, many questions and will 100% take you off topic with them. But his eyes just sparkle when he gets to learn new things and he hangs on your every word like a starving man does to bread.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Strife, looking to ruin Death's day: Brother?

Death: What is it now?

S: I love you.

D, lacking the emotional tools to process this information: Why?

S: You're my elder brother and you take good care of our family, I love you.

D: A-Are you dying?

S: No.

D: Am I dying?

S: Why would I know that?

D: Are you trying to fuck me?!

S: No, I'm not trying to fuck you. Anyways, I'm off to train with Fury, so I'll see you later.

D: *obsessively thinks about this for the rest of the day*

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

This scene gave me so much Strife vibes, man. I wouldn't put it past him to occasionally refer to himself as "daddy" to instill unease and chaos into the general public and/or annoy his siblings.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

I was just thinking about this the other day and how nice it would be to cuddle up to a shirtless War and gently rub and pat his lil chonky stomach. And he would kinda feign annoyance but would secretly enjoy every second of attention for being soft and squishy.

Cute Horsemen Quirks #8

War has trained his body for strength, not looks. Therefore, he does not have a six pack when he's not flexing. In fact, seeing him shirtless while he's relaxed one would even venture to call him "a lil chunky".

That being said, he's vain as all hell when he has to compete with the anorexic Death and Strife who can eat whatever he wants and still stay thin. So he's constantly flexing in public.

Here's just a little thing I found on a body building website a long ass while ago and I can't remember the name of:

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

War, trying his best to be supportive: Excellent, I give it two thumbs up.

Strife: But you don't have two thumbs, Brother.

War: Yes, I know that.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Me: I mean yeah, being raised by emotionally negligent Christian extremists wasn't fun, but I've moved past it and I'm fine now.

My comfort characters:

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Azrael v. Lucien 2

Abaddon: I'm going to go talk to my scout now, if you two can manage not to kill each other for 5 minutes.

Lucien: Oh please, we're not children.

Abaddon: *leaves*

Azrael: Eat shit and die

Lucien: Yes, fuck you.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Abaddon: How did your meeting with Archon Lucien go?

Azrael: I've never raised my hand in anger, but if he doesn't let it go I'm going to punch that goose fucker in the nuts so hard it'll knock that dick-licking smirk right off his shiny ass face.

Azrael, realizing his scribes are in the room: ... With my prayers.

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Horseman Interacting With Human Humor Part 3

War: Fear not, Brothers, I will get answers.

Human: Soooo... How'd you lose the arm?

War: :(

Human: My money's on some kind of sexual misadventure.

War: >:(

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]

Pigeons At Heaven's Gate -

Episode 1: Azrael and The Chips

((A short, light hearted, and mildly chaotic pilot "episode".))

Archangel. General. Dragon.

Abaddon didn't prescribe to the belief that the Creator engraved every Angel's fate onto their souls like an artist signing their work. If everything was a cog desined to run a grand, perfect machine, then why was the machine always breaking down? If the machine was built to break down, then what was the point of it?

He tried not to dwell on it too much. But for some people, dwelling didn't seem to be optional.

"You can stay home from school, Bubba, but you can't miss work. Let's go."

"I'm not going to work today." Azrael pulled the blanket over his head.

Archangel. Scholar. Gatekeeper.

Abaddon had no doubt that one day he would be all of the things in his Kismet. But for now, the lanky mage had to make do with being just his best friend.

"I know I'm going to regret this: but why aren't you going to work today?"

"Because," came the muffled reply, "I'll have to do the runestones. So I'll get there and I'll realize the work table is dirty, so I'll have to clean that, then I'll have to sweep the floor in the work room because I got the chips on the floor, then I may as well sweep the rest of the shop, then I'll notice something or other isn't organized and so on and so forth and by the time I get back to the runestone table, it's closing time. I don't want to do all of that today, so I'm just not getting out of bed, Ot."

Abaddon bit back the obvious response, mostly because it never seemed to help. "What do you want me to tell the boss?"

"The truth: I've grown tired of my disobedient brain and if I survive the process of removing it, I'll live my life as a halfwit scrawling nonsense on the walls under the dim, uncomprehending gaze of a fascist syphilitic pinworm."

"That seems a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Was I being too subtle?"

As if summoned by the sheer amount of stupidity radiating down to his shop, Ulthane grumbled indistinctly at the doorway to the boys' room.

Although he hadn't exactly heard a question, Abaddon answered anyways, "He's going to cut out his brain and work as a scrivener for Archon Lucien."

"Eh? The lad with a head like a sack of shiney spuds? That seems a wee bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Don't forget his dim and uncomprehending gaze," Azrael couldn't help but add.

"We all got problems, lad." Ulthane said as he roughly pushed the bundle of unkempt blankets and feathers to the floor. "Yer shifts started 30 seconds ago, if either of you are late again you'll be out on yer arses faster than a constipated greyhound."

"But what about the chips, Ulthane?!"

"Again with the chips, lad? If you put a towel on the floor, the chips will fall on that and then you won't have to sweep up after."

[furiousqueenmarmaroth]